#their parents will become an important part of the lore

[kingxgarm]

Who wants to read my Wof x Tsams au prophecy!?

I told you I would write it eventually

BTW, the story's name is Talons of Stars

Let me know if you wanna read it when I get the prologue done

Prophecy

Four dragons have a story unlike any other. Four dragons, the story of brothers.

One born of Ice, the Sea, and Night, forced to run and hide, chased before the smite.

The next born of Night, Sky, and Sand, left alone to never understand.

The third born of Sand, Sky, and Rain, cursed forever to cause and feel pain.

The youngest born of the Sea, Ice, and Silk, shall always run, but never bilk.

The fight for the stars will never be done.

The story of familial betrayal has begun…

These dragons will hold the stars in their talons, but the question is… which one?

[canisalbus]

When Machete became a cardinal, did his parents ever recognize him?

Machete's home village was on the other side of Italy (and separated by the sea no less) and it was small, relatively rural and remote. It's very unlikely many news about Holy See's happenings made their way there. I don't think his parents had any reason to expect to ever hear about him again, he seemed to be somewhat of a lost cause when they dropped him off.

[ruins-of-gods]

Something that I think Warhammer 40,000 storytellers miss sometimes is the sheer scale of their setting. I mean, don't get me wrong - I love the big, dramatic clashes, the characters you can buy in mini form and their convoluted, interwoven lore, the dramatic combats against unstoppable foes across a thousand ruined worlds. But that's the top of the setting, as it were - the most powerful beings in the universe, all fighting for supremacy. And at ground level, the level of the ordinary person, are so many other stories.

Did you know that a Lunar-class void cruiser has a crew of 95,000? Nearly a hundred thousand people, aboard a spaceship five kilometers long. A city, flying through outer space to wage war. Many of those people are proper trained soldiers, fresh from some academy or veterans of long, grueling campaigns, and many more are pressed into service, begrudgingly laying their lives at their Emperor's feet. But, unless the ship is currently actively involved in a really bloody campaign, most of those people were born aboard that ship. Most of their parents were born aboard it. And their grandparents. And their great-grandparents. Lineages stretching back centuries, so far that the original soldier who came aboard has been forgotten. A lot of those people probably know, on some level, that they're aboard a ship flying through space - but a lot of them probably don't, and I guarantee you almost none of them understand what that means. This ship is their world. To look out the window means madness so often that they avoid it - not that windows are readily available anyway. Most of them probably barely even understand that they're fighting. All they know is that when the readouts on their analog instruments display like so, when they hurry to obey the blared orders through the klaxon, the Emperor is pleased with them. They were born into that world. When they were children they did smaller tasks the adults couldn't. Their entire existence was winding metal corridors, laid out according to some archaic design, any logic that might dictate their layout long since degraded after millennia of ignorant maintenance, lit only by emergency lights that have long since become the default. They learned how to read an angle readout or how to relay an order perfectly the way another child might learn history or math. When they grew up, their service was flawless, born of pride and ignorance, and when they grew old and died, their legacy was remembered until it was forgotten. Many were killed in battle, but who cares? They gave their lives to the Emperor - a name whose meaning they don't understand, but whose importance they believe in wholeheartedly, all but synonymous with the commanding officers up above.

Sometimes, the klaxons sound a specific command, and every person on board who understands what it means feels a deep, awful dread as they run to their battle stations. They don't know what a warp jump is. They don't understand they're going from one place to another by the fastest way available. All they know is that, for a time, the ship dips into hell. The corridors go wrong. Things and people might not be where or what they were before. Daemons stalk the halls, and must be killed by any who can hold a lasgun. The overcrowded berths, the little nooks that families find for themselves - they are not private anymore. They are not safe. Things drift through the shift that do not care about the laws of physics, but that delight in killing and torturing human beings. Vast energies shake the ship and tear parts of it away - their home, their world, their existence, the biggest thing they can imagine, assaulted by something bigger. Is it the Emperor's punishment for failure? Is this what battle is? What's going on? They don't know, and no one who does can be bothered to tell them. The dread of those who have seen this before is even worse, because they don't know how long it will be. It might be just a few hours. It might be days, or weeks, or months, or years, or decades. It might be centuries, as the captain of the ship goes hunting daemons deep in the warp - the officers live that long, after all, and have little care for those who don't. There will be people born in hell, who spend their entire lives fighting from the day they can stand, and who die in hell, as old age and need catch up to them and they curl up in a corner to perish. To them, it isn't even hell. It's just the world. The world is death and pain and cruelty, an infinite metal box through which monsters stalk, and sometimes you must run to a battle station and do as you're ordered to do. And sometimes, as they reach forty or fifty or even a ripe old sixty, the ship drops out of the Warp, and, for the final years of their life, they are granted a life of relatively safe service better than anything they ever hoped to dream of.

Those are the kinds of stories I want to see more of. Super-soldiers fighting each other is cool, yes, but I want to see this universe explored. I want stories from the perspective of those that keep the Imperium going, or the aeldar, or the tyranids, or anyone, really. There's just so much potential in this setting. It deserves it.

[devotion-disorder]

If you could choose 3 dol npcs to become LIs who would they be

basic ass answer but wren, bailey and harper :thinking:

Wren is kinda self-explantory. I mean all the scenes with them are SO...............yeah. Gameplay-wise they're already all over town and it feels like they're an important player in terms of the lore too, so it makes sense if they develop a deeper relationship with PC. Though i get it might be sorta ooc for Wren since they seem like the flighty (pun not intended) non-committal kind of person but damn...the blackjack scenes still has me in a chokehold.

Bailey for kinda the same reasons - theyre an important figure in the lore but also a constant presence in PC's life. Hopefully we get a lot more Bailey content in the future that extends beyond their function as 'debt collector', but i also get that its their whole deal to be secretive. Stupid sexy mysterious old man. I think part of me just also enjoys the iffy dynamic of a pseudo-parental figure. OH AND I CANT BELIEVE YOU CANT FUCK THEM ANYMROE NOW WHAT THE FAWKKKK

Harper...well...just take a look at my blog LOL maybe it'd be an interesting idea for it to be some sort of bad ending. I still can't stop thinking about what that vrel said, that among the "villain" charas, Harper ranks second for level of sexual desire...

[ironunderstands]

Topaz appreciation post because she’s been rotating around my brain like a rotisserie chicken and I need y’all to get her like I do 

Genuinely, I believe her to be the most underrated limited 5 star in the game everything wise, because she is so damn interesting and nobody talks about it ever and it drives me nuts.

So, I’m going to make you understand why exactly I love her and what makes her so amazing in the first place.

Her lore 

Topaz’s lore is rather simple, at least compared to other characters in the game, but simple ≠ bad and her story serves her perfectly.

Long before Topaz was Topaz, she was a girl named Jelena, living in a desolate planet at the edge of the galaxy. The economy of this planet was based around mining and industry, which resulted in her home becoming more and more polluted as time went on. The wildlife almost completely disappeared, people had to wear masks to breathe, and it seemed like her planet was reaching a hopeless, dismal end.

Until the IPC came. They promised to fix everything, and heal her planet of its environment problems, in exchange for every person on the planet signing a contract of indentured servitude to the IPC. Seeing no other way out, Topaz’s home accepted, forever tying her and the rest of the planet to the IPC.

Topaz is was (and still is) incredibly talented and competent, excelling in science, economics, finances, math, etc. Her exceptional talents caused her mentor  and parental figure Dvorski, who works in the Strategic Investment Department to recommend her to Jade, one of his superiors. Presumably, this is how she started her climb up the corporate latter, eventually becoming the Topaz we know and love today. 

Throughout this, she maintained her friendly and headstrong attitude, and never abandoned her love for animals or the people in her life like Dvorski, a trait which will be important for later. 

So, I’ve established the basics, so what makes this interesting?

Topaz’s trauma and how it affects her character 

I feel like a lot of people ignore just how much trauma she really has, and how it affects the way she behaves in the present.

For starters, her love of animals. Sure, Numby is adorable and in general this is a rather fun trait for a character to have, it’s not something you would consider to be a sign of something darker. 

However, remember that Topaz’s planet almost lost all of the life on it, and she witnessed firsthand almost every creature she knew and loved either go extinct or become severely endangered. 

So, when you view her love for animals through this lense, it’s easy to see that she’s so attached to animals because Topaz almost lost them forever, and this trait manifests in a lot of the behavior she exhibits.

According to Topaz herself, her efficiency goes up 27% when Numby is with her, and it seems to be blatantly obvious that being around animals give her at the very least a peace of mind/sense of comfort. I mean in game she is Topaz and Numby for a reason, and her relationship with them is a core part of the way she behaves. When Topaz can’t ground herself, she has Numby to help her with that, which hurts even more considering she is likely going on these missions alone 90% of the time, meaning her literal only friend is a pet/animal. 

Considering Topaz’s biological parents never get mentioned, it’s not hard to assume she is orphaned or at the very least estranged from them, likely due to the disaster on her planet, leaving her only loved ones to be her pets and Dvorski. Losing one half of the only support system she has would be devastating for Topaz, which is likely why she brings Numby everywhere (also considering I don’t think she has mentioned him in the present, her pets might literally be the only things she has left). 

In her own home, Topaz collects a myriad of species from across the galaxy, as if to preserve them so at least even if they disappear on their home planets like hers did, they won’t go extinct entirely. 

Personally, I think her fixation around them cooperating and coexisting also reflects on how she feels about other people. If animals from completely different planets can get along, so can people. If she can convince creatures lacking in intellect work together, then she can do the same for ones that possess it, as ultimately Topaz is a massive people person, and believes what she’s doing is best for the galaxy. 

It’s almost like an experiment, with every little change to their ecosystems, every new organism added, every new abiotic feature taken or removed, Topaz can simulate what that might be like in reality. In a way she wants to take care of humans  like she does her pets, however instead of doing it through her own means, she uses the IPC and her power as a Stoneheart as a vector for that.

But why is she so confident? What makes Topaz wholeheartedly believe that what she’s doing really is the best for the galaxy, even if we know it isn’t perfect, even if only ~80% of the planets she works on are “saved”?

Well, like always, it’s her trauma again.

Imagine you’re living on a planet slowly dying due to its people’s greed and ignorance, in which everything you know and love is falling apart, and absolutely nothing can be done about it. But you don’t need to imagine this, I mean this is a situation we are all going through, as it’s already what’s happening to our planet right now, so perhaps instead picture what it might be like to live here in a few decades if nothing changes. How miserable that would be, how upset you would be at those in power, how disappointed you would be in humanity for doing Nothing when we had so much time and already knew the consequences almost a century in advance (seriously we have known about climate change since like the 50s). 

So you give up hope and accept your fate, accept that everything is going down in flames and the humanity, the planet you know and love is going to be snuffed out forever.

Only to get saved when an outside influence comes to your assistance. Sure, they make everyone sign a contract binding their lives to them, but you wouldn’t have a life to give had they not helped. Besides, you owe it to every other thing that shares your planet with you, every plant, every animal, every organism has been utterly wiped out by human greed, so it’s only fair to pay them back, right? 

I mean it’s your whole world at stake, so how could you say no? How could you deem their terms unreasonable if clearly your own people didn’t deserve the responsibility they had over their own lives? If their situations could only be fixed by giving it to others who could guide them? By giving it to the IPC? The Preservation ?

This is the mindset Topaz grew up on and has known for her entire life. She has seen humanity utterly fail itself and is unwilling to allow that fate to befall others. She doesn’t trust other people to make the right decisions, she doesn’t think they know what’s best for them, because the people she was closest to, her very own people couldn’t do that, so how could she ever expect strangers to do the same? 

How could she ever give the leaders of these planets the benefit of the doubt, knowing that doing that for her own almost caused it to be wiped out completely? How could she see them as anything more than the selfish bastards who ruined everything? How could her heart not ache thinking there were people on the planets she helps who would be doomed to experience the fate that almost fell upon her had Topaz not stepped in. 

How could Topaz feel guilty over the planets that don’t succeed? The ones she can’t save? As after all, she thinks they were lost from the get go? Does it eat her up at night knowing she failed them? That she couldn’t prevent the folly of humanity this time, so the next planet she must work harder, be more stubborn, push back even more, so nobody ever experiences what she did instead?

I mean being an indentured servant hasn’t been that bad for her, she’s succeeded in every endeavor she’s set her mind to after all. Sure, she’s entirely alone, and sure, if the IPC no longer deems her or her people useful, they could cast them aside once again. 

But Topaz is smart, she climbed to the top of the latter, she’s been praised to hell and back, she’s known far and wide through the department for her efficiency and drive, surely she hasn’t done anything wrong?

Sure she’s heard whispers, rumors and projects of other departments, of the deep dark secrets of the company she owes her life too. Inwardly she wonders how those who follow the Preservation would even be willing to commit such atrocities, inwardly she hopes they are just rumors. The IPC saved her planet, so how could they destroy others? 

The Preservation’s power will protect all, will save them from their miserable existences. Nothing else matters in the process, no dissenter understands this as like Topaz does. She will save them, she will protect them, even if it means she is detested by everyone she encounters, it must be done. All for the Amber Lord.

I find it very compelling how despite the fact that Topaz has become a Stoneheart, she is still dressed in the fashion of an average IPC worker. As if she is an equal part of the puzzle as them. Equally useful, equally disposable, equally biased, equally ignorant, and equally foolish. 

I mean, how could she be anyway else?

Her future

Belabog was just as important for Topaz’s development as she was to it.

She was wrong. 

As stubborn as Topaz is, she is not arrogant, and when Bronya proved to her that the people of Belabog can and would fight for their future, Topaz did everything in her power to help them.

As that’s what she really cares about, people. 

I think Topaz the determination she has in Bronya and it shook her to her core. 

Because so far, the only way Topaz has seen real progress is from the hands of the IPC.

But Bronya doesn’t give into them, and she puts everything she has into saving her people. Moreover, Jarilo-VI follows the Preservation as well, but they don’t agree with the IPC’s method of it. 

Is the IPC wrong?

That is the question Topaz is faced with, what is the thing she has to grapple with once she leaves the planet. When they demote her for not getting the debt back immediately, does Topaz wonder why they were so concerned about that in the first place? Shouldn’t they be happy that a world blessed by their very own deity managed to pick itself up without their help? Isn’t that the point?

Does she think back to her previous projects, the planets she saved and the planets she failed, and wonder how it would have worked out without the IPCs involvement? 

Did Aventurine teasing her about “failing” the Jarilo-VI project confuse her, because they were still saved like Topaz wanted them to be in the first place? How could they ever be considered a failure?

She believes debts and payback are what holds planets together, but it only ever seemed to cause Belabog to fall apart.

This is the first time Topaz really is forced to reevaluate her priorities, to question if her methods are justifiable, if she’s really doing the right thing.

Belabog didn’t break her, it didn’t topple her worldview and turn everything on its head, but it did plant some seeds of doubt in her brain, seeds of doubt that will grow into a new mindset. 

HOYOVERSE IF YOU ARE LISTENING HOYOVERSE, GIVE HER THE MENTAL BREAKDOWN + PRIORITY REEVALUATION ARC SHE DESERVES!!! DO THAT AND MY LIFE IS YOURS PLEASE.

Like you don’t get it you don’t get it what do you mean they set all this up and they might not go anywhere with it. Please hoyo please please please let her break away from the IPC’s condition and warped perspective, please let her truly follow the Preservation, please make her turn away from them, please make her an emanator of Preservation after she does this. Topaz stoneheart form, Topaz emanator form. Please please please let her save the crew let her save her subordinates let her save the people she failed previously let her save Aventurine and Ratio let her save Numby let her save herself.

Her instability 

I have already somewhat touched on this in point #3, but Topaz just cannot exist in the state she is now permanently.

Like a radioactive element she’s going to slowly decay over time until she ends up in a more stable form, and who that will hurt in the process, and how long that will take, we will have to see.

Hypocrisy is not something that can exist for long within characters, as due to its inherent contradictions, it messes with the way they are characterized until they are eventually forced to either eliminate it themselves or have the story do it for them.

Topaz is a hypocrite, desiring to do good and help people, but she ends up hurting them in the process. 

However, she has only just begun to realize this, and as more and more of the IPC’s atrocities get revealed, it gets harder and harder for both the audience and her herself to justify her behavior as we witness the extent of their crimes.

So how has she remained this stable for so long?

Well, the IPC has done everything in their power to keep her that way. From a young age she was involved with them, as they not only saved her planet, but her only known parental figure worked in the Strategic Investment Department. Soon, he recommended her to Jade due to Topaz’s exceptional talent, and presumably the other Stoneheart quickly picked her up and took her under her wing, causing Jelena to rise fast within the ranks and become one herself.

The IPC has been Topaz’s only frame of reference for how things should be done, her only perspective on write and wrong for so long. The only hints she gets of other points of view are that of the people who destroyed her planet, her own people. Unintentional or not, Topaz has been made to feel her whole life like the IPC are heroes and the common people are foolish and greedy and evil, and only now has that worldview started to crumble piece by piece.

Sure, we have always known how terrible the IPC was, a perception that has only gotten more and more true over time. However, Topaz is not the audience, and in universe the IPC presents themselves in a very positive light.

Think of the Myriad Celestia trailer and how it portrays the IPC; that’s quite literally how they want to be viewed in game, how they market themselves to other people. If Topaz has only ever known them to be that great, shining, progressive company who vows to follow the Preservation and improve the universe, how could even begin to criticize them? After all, she had never known any other perspective. Even when she did fail in the past, Topaz viewed it as a strike on her own record and an unfortunate situation in general, not as a demonstration of the IPC’s misdeeds. 

The IPC is good, the IPC saves people, the IPC follows the Preservation, Topaz is a good person, Topaz does good things, Topaz helps people, Topaz saves people, there is nothing wrong, there won’t ever be anything wrong.

Until Belabog

They don’t want to cooperate with the IPC. To roll over and let themselves be gutted for all they are worth. 

Well that’s fine, that’s happened before, at least that’s how Topaz justifies it to herself. She thinks of their massive debt, it must be paid after all, otherwise how could the galaxy remain stable?

But the weapons the IPC gave Jarilo-VI were never used in its defense. The thing they owe the IPC for never ended up being valuable. Belabog stood on its own, without the help of IPC in its defense.

They saved themselves.

As if it couldn’t get worse, they did it with the power of the Preservation.

And it didn’t come from the IPC, it came from them.

The Interastral Peace Corporation, who claim to be followers of the Preservation, standing against people who really do have their blessing and being proved wrong.

Do you know how that would feel to Topaz.

She’s wrong, and she’s proven wrong by the very deity she claims to follow, she believes she follows.

So Topaz makes her choice.

Stick with the IPC’s plan, or stand with the people of Belabog 

And she stands with them.

Topaz’s character never changes. I hate when people act like she switched up on them and changed her whole worldview, but in reality that was the most in character thing Topaz has ever done in her entire life.

Because she cares about people, so when the opportunity presents itself, she will always stand with them. 

This is the first time Topaz goes against the IPC’s wishes, and it won’t be the last.

She made her choice, she demonstrated who and what she truly cares about, and that will only drive a wedge between her and the IPC further and further until she snaps.

I find it funny how Topaz is a fire type character, when the song core to Belabog’s themes is “Wildfire” 

However, maybe it isn’t just about them. I think it’s about the Preservation, about what the game in general is trying to tell its players.

How fighting for your right to exist will hurt, but it is not impossible, and that pain will be the only way to enact change.

Well, Topaz,

you made your choice

go fight against your fate 

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed making this and I hope you at least understand why I think Topaz is such a compelling character. I need an arc centered on her in the future and if I don’t get one then trust me things will be dealt with. She will get her just desserts.

[qwardivior]

DEMON BUSTERS!—MIST HASHIRA

Next Part>>

<<Previous Part

Sorry for the long wait, but here’s the next installment of the Demon Busters saga! This one is about our favorite Mist Hashira, Muichirou! For anyone who is new here or hasn’t seen the first part, in this modern kny au people have been dying to demon attacks at alarming rates and the Demon Busters (the updated and rebranded Demon Slayer Corps) need a way to get people to call them. In short, they run ad campaigns. Several characters will be getting these ad campaigns. The previous one was Tanjirou and this next one is Muichirou!

You can find the first Demon Busters AU post here! Now onto this one!

—Lore dump Incoming!!—

In this au, Muichirou and Yuichirou’s parents are victims of a demon attack, leaving the twins alone to fend for themselves. Somehow, they make do alone. But they aren’t completely alone, since Amane Ubayashiki comes around from time to time to see how they’re doing. Muichirou is comforted by her presence, but Yuichirou is just confused on how she got their address. Everytime she comes over, she tried to get them under the care of the Demon Busters. Muichirou thinks this is a great idea, since they’d be able to prevent others from losing their parents just like they did. But to Yuichirou, they seem like sketchy criminals. No matter how much he tried to convince him, Yuichirou’s stance wouldn’t budge. It was too dangerous, he’d say, and Muichirou was too weak to do anything so he’d just go out there to die anyway. The Mu in Muichirou meant that he was nothing after all. This disagreement caused a lot of tension between them, and as a result they drifted apart. Their days were filled with tense quiet, until one summer night. On that summer night they were attacked by a demon. The demon cut Yuichirous arm off as he tried to protect Muichirou. Naturally, Muichirou had to do something about this. So with whatever weapons he could find he was(somehow) able to fend off the demon. But the truth is he really doesn’t remember how. He honestly doesn’t remember much of what transpired during that night. He just barely remembers being carried off by Amane and the sound of sirens and red and blue lights. When he woke up he was at the Demon Busters HQ where he was being taken care of. From then on he swore he would train to get stronger, so that’s what he did. But there was still a large gap in his memory.

Muichirou is an interesting case as far as this au goes. He became a hashira in 2 months, the quickest anyone has become one. He’s a full time slayer, but he doesn’t drop out of school. He balances schoolwork, and Demon Busting, not very well since he’s constantly absent, but he does it. Like in canon, he adopts Yuichirou’s personality until he realizes himself, but his progress is accelerated when the flame hashira Rengoku introduces him to his little brother Senjuro. Him and Senjuro are the same age, and Mui needed someone that he could relate to and connect with. They go to the same school and though Senjuro has issues of his own (more on that in a later installment) they somehow connect with each other. Muichirou’s memory is horrible as he has trouble remembering general information about anything really, including himself. However hanging with Senjuro has allowed bits and pieces of his memory to come back, but not nearly enough for progress. It isn’t until Mui meets Tanjirou for the first time (slightly earlier in this au) that everything he supposed he knew about himself gets turned on its head. Muichirou also makes friends with Genya who is the major reason why he hasn’t dropped out of school yet to focus on demon slaying. Genya thinks an education is important, but compared to slaying demons he obviously has different priorities.

Muichirou thinks he’s completely alone and doesn’t have a family anymore, but as time goes on that doesn’t seem to be the case. He finds out about an “investigative force” that’s interested in the Demon Busters (the usual, their inner workings, how they run, etc), but more specifically in him. This is problematic for multiple reasons with the biggest one being that they’re just civilians. And if they’re Demon chasing trying to catch a Buster, a Hashira no less, then they could be in serious danger. But the names of one of these “investigators” sounds extremely familiar. Rumor has it they have the same last name, maybe even look alike. Initially this coincidence seemed unlikely, but the more he finds out about them, the more their reasons for tailing him become clearer, and it’s almost like he can just picture one of the investigators…he seems to remember them…and their name is at the tip of his tongue…

Oh and did I mention that Muichirou has a warrant out for his arrest?

———

Thanks for sitting through this second lore dump! I know this is long, but I really enjoy sharing the lore with you guys! And thank you so, so much on the support on the first Demon Busters post!! I did not expect you guys to like this au as much as I do!! A quick reminder for this au, even though the backstory seems heavy in this one, this is a mostly lighthearted au that doesn’t take itself seriously, so neither should you! This is all fun and games as we try to ignore the sadness and depression that is canon! Feel free to add to the lore with me! My ask box is open, so if you guys have good ideas or questions share them with me! Thanks again for your support and I’ll see you guys in the next one!!!

[softersynths]

lots of recent rat stuff. updating their design a little (shorter legs fatter tails) and thinking abt ppl morgan knows and musun gender social politics. updated morgan backstory lore dump under tha cut

Morgan's parents were both borrowers. Just as he was becoming old enough to learn to borrow, his mother and father decided to return to his mother's colony of origin, where she had family, so that he could have a more secure lifestyle. However, the journey resulted in him losing both his mother and father - he arrived at the colony alone. His mother's name was the only thing that got him through the door.

The culture of musun colonies can vary, but Morgan's mother's colony - the Farrow - was fairly typical. The colony was a large, interwoven group of families headed by a dominant female. Overseen by her were reproductive females - those who were permitted to bear children - and the dominant male, who oversaw any reproductive males (who were typically few in number). Alongside them were nonreproductive females and males - those that were old and retired, those that were younger, and those who simply had low social standing. Reproductive individuals seldom left the colony, taking roles of farmers, nannies, wet nurses and tailors. Nonreproductive individuals could have any array of roles - including hunting and borrowing for the colony. It is ultimately up to the dominant female who is allowed to bear children - a nonreproductive female becoming pregnant could be punished or exiled, or even have her pups culled. Morgan's mother, Popper, was a nonreproductive female who concealed a pregnancy with a non-colony male - and chose to exile herself to protect her child. Despite his illegitimacy, Morgan carries his mother's name, and was allowed in, largely because his grandmother had become the Grand Dam (despite her daughter's self-exile). Regardless, he's a bastard, and his position is very low. Morgan's duties generally included borrowing, bug farming and seed collection.

He grew up alongside cousins who became like siblings to him - particularly Yarrow. As an adult, his cousin has a child, named Fern, that he helps raise - but for reasons unknown to him, she disappears, leaving him to care for the child. Whether she died or left in exile is unknown - and the topic of gossip. Nannying of children typically falls to reproductive roles, but can be shared more widely for pups that are weaned, and his cousin's pup prefers his company to the people that rejected their mother for associating with him.

Morgan also has a close friend, a nonreproductive male named Aster. He's a watchman and guard, whose job is to sound the alarm if the colony is threatened. He was apprenticing for this role when Morgan came to the colony - he's one of the first colony members Morgan met, and Aster is very loyal to him. Aster is sometimes called "Ash" as a nickname.

Colonies like Morgan's often have strict rules about entry and exit to preserve their own safety. Unrelated musun and outsiders have to petition for entry, and even if allowed inside, it can take years before they are considered "part" of the colony. One of their most important rules is in regard to safety - if someone is being chased by a predator, or are otherwise in danger from a malevolent actor, it is strictly forbidden for them to run home. This is because they risk leading the danger to the colony. If someone is being chased, they are instructed to run away from the colony and find a hiding spot until the danger has passed, at which point they can return home unseen.

Morgan breaks this rule when he is spotted and chased by something that is very interested in him - and runs directly home. This creature then lingers around the area of the colony for days, trying to find its scent and dig it up. It eventually gives up - but Morgan is exiled for his carelessness, leading him to become a solitary borrower against his will.

In the years following, Morgan grows used to living on his own (which is difficult for him, as an extroverted person). Back home, turmoil in the colony continues to grow for various reasons - largely related to issues of dominance and struggles for power. Aster, frustrated with his leaders for Morgan's treatment, leaves with Fern to go and find him. Anything is better than where they are now.

Unbeknownst to him, Morgan has been found and captured by the very creature that caused his exile all those years ago - a huge monster named Bug. Turns out Morgan had made his new nest in Bug's apartment.

Morgan comes to trust Bug. He had been living in Bug's walls, and continues to do so - but spends a great deal of time on Bug's person now, too. Eventually, Aster will find Morgan - who is now having a situationship with a giant monster. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

[bamboozledbird]

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU (Reader's Version) // Prev. / Chapter 3 / Next

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, omc, ofc Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, parental death (rip to your fake mom), depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. Four years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because most days you feel like a shadow, some horrifically sad creature caught halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter. 

You can’t scrub the bitter smell of hospital from your memories, not even with denial. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Scott’s new-found abilities and the murky world they’ve been dragged into is making it pretty damn hard to keep his promise. 

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real and old family skeletons rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive? 

Maybe, the real question is: How long will they want to? Chapter Summary: More information about the animal attack comes to light. You can’t decide if you're more scared of the monster or becoming friends with someone new. 

A/N: You can also check me out on ao3 (dork_knight) for the full lore version!

You were surprised to see your dad’s car in the garage. He wasn’t supposed to be off work for hours, and he certainly never came home early on weekdays. You would be more nervous if there was anyone left in your life to grieve. It was just the two of you now. Your mom hadn’t ever talked about her family; you weren't even sure if she ever had one, and Grandma and Papa Dickinson died before you even had the chance to remember them. You wished, sometimes, that there was someone else in the house. Someone who could fill the cold silence and closed doors. Someone who might chase away the ghosts lingering in the long halls and photographs on the walls. It was a futile dream. You were going to die in this house, and someday a new family would chase your family’s shadows away with laughter.

You felt a bittersweet sense of déjà vu when you walked into the house and saw your dad sitting at the kitchen table. The kitchen was his spot before everything went wrong. He puttered around the island in the mornings with his thermos of coffee and tablet, somehow knowing exactly when to flip the bubbling pancakes on the griddle without glancing up from whatever NPR article he was reading. He only looked up from the screen to kiss your mom on the cheek and give you a side-squeeze until you whined about your inability to breathe. 

That was a long time ago, you reminded yourself as your dad looked up from his iPad. It’d been four years, but he still hadn’t quite figured out how to hug you and the kitchen never smelled like pancakes and cinnamon syrup anymore. “How was school?” your dad finally said after a long moment of uneasy eye-contact. 

Your brow wrinkled, and your head canted slightly, “You really want to talk about my day?”

“Of course,” your dad paused and rubbed his hands over his face, “but there is something important I wanted to talk to you about.” His stubble had grown out enough that you could see where the brown was starting to gray. He looked so old for a moment, and you weren't quite sure how to feel. You never did around him. 

Frowning, you sat down in the chair across from him, “Did someone die?”

“No,” your dad quickly replied, and then he sighed, “well, yes.” He set his iPad to the side and took his thick reading glasses off, “You know about the animal attacks.” It wasn’t a question. You figured that was how this would go; it was easier to pretend you didn’t exist if he monologued to the spot on the wall just over your shoulder. “Sheriff Stilinski and I agree that a curfew is the best course of action, considering the situation we’re in.”

Best course of action. You chewed on what was left of your nails and resisted the sigh budding in your chest. So, this was a council meeting too. You just didn’t get a vote. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Your dad blinked a few times and rubbed at his jaw, like he’d been expecting you to fight him on it. Most of the fight fizzled out in you a long time ago; it was just easier to pretend. You got that from him, you thought. You inherited your dad’s love for mystery novels and his ability to deny reality straight to its face, and that was where the similarity ended. Your face, your skin, your heart—your exhausting curiosity—that was all your mom. It must be why your dad couldn’t keep his gaze on you for long. He ran his fingers through his short crop of dark hair and said, “Anyone under the age of 18 needs to be home by 9:00 every night.” 

“Fine.” It wasn’t like you had much of a social life anyway, and the curio shop you worked for closed long before dark. “So,” you fiddled with the edge of a decorative bamboo placemat that hadn’t seen a plate in years, “do the police have any idea what kind of animal’s going all Pac-Man on people?”

Your dad stared at you for a moment, a deep divot developing above the crooked bridge of his nose. You looked down at your hands and mumbled, “The vampire Pomeranian, not the wimpyass circle.”

His mouth tugged a little, and you would’ve sworn he was fighting a smile if everything else in the world didn’t directly contradict the theory. “Not exactly.”

“Which means…” you shook your head a little and tugged your fingers through your unruly hair, grimacing a bit as they snagged on a few knots where your hair had frizzed together, “they’ve ruled out tiny bloodsucking dogs, or they’ve narrowed it down to a few probable options?” 

He paused for a long moment, and you pulled your shins to your chest, focusing on the tips of your sneakers hanging off the edge of the wooden seat. You turned your cheek into your kneecaps and waited for your dad to make an excuse and leave. You’d pushed. You always had to push. 

“There were wolf fibers on the girl.”

You whipped your head up from your knees, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. You were a little embarrassed that you were more stunned by your dad sharing confidential information with you than a wolf migrating to central California for the first time in over a hundred years. “And the bus driver?”

“He’s still…unresponsive. Stilinski is looking into the possibility that he was attacked by the same animal.” 

“Huh,” you said quietly, eyes glazing over as you considered the possibility.

“Regardless, you need to be home before dark until they catch the damn thing,” he leaned back against his chair, tipping his head back with his bottle of Miller High life. The golden liquid sloshed back and forth with the strength of his swallow. It was the first time you’d seen him drink since the funeral, but you knew about the empty bottles he threw away in the trash outside. Over the years, the number varied; you noticed a significant increase around anniversaries, birthdays, and Christmas. You left extra take-out in the fridge during those weeks, always his favorites, and they were gone in the morning. You twisted the pendant on your necklace and made a note to order Little India’s tandoori chicken after your shift.

“I have to work tonight.” You said quietly, nibbling the bed of your thumbnail, “I’m off at 8:00.” 

You both dreaded and longed for your boss’s absurd take on the situation—though boss wasn’t quite the right word for Maggie Sinclair. Despite the fact that she owned Curio Killed the Cat and approved your paychecks, Maggie was the least authoritative person you knew. You’d say Mags was like an older sister, but older sisters generally didn’t require so much supervision around open flames and sangria—and anything else sparkling enough to distract her sporadic focus. Your mom used to look out for her before she died; you supposed Maggie was just another thing you inherited from her. Your favorite thing probably, but that was something you’d most likely take to your grave.

Your dad’s face went blank for a moment, as it always did when he was reminded of anything remotely related to your mom. It was easier for him, you thought, to pretend that she never existed. You couldn’t even be bitter about it; you hadn’t even cried at the funeral. You cried much later, of course, but by then the pity well had run dry. Nobody cared how you coped, so long as you coped quickly. You’d wasted those precious first few months of constant consolations with numbness, with monotonous, 'Thank you,’s and, 'It’s sad, but I’m okay,'s and then, eventually, everyone stopped asking if you were okay. Time passed. You didn’t touch any of the casseroles in the fridge. People moved on. You lived in the wake and pushed people away with an acrid bite that would disappoint the resurrection right out of your mother. Your dad was just coping. You both were. 

“Right,” he cleared his throat, “come straight home after.”

You shouldered your backpack and stood up, “Always do.”

You still didn’t know how Maggie met your mom, given the 15-year age gap and their vastly different…everything, but Maggie had been in your life for as long as you could remember. You spent so much time in Maggie’s store after your mom died that you figured you might as well get paid for shelving spell books and grimoires while you were there—even if you did think that most of Maggie’s customers were totally off their rocker. Of course, in-person customers were a rare oddity in Curio Killed the Cat.

The store was always slow on weekdays, weekends too actually. Most of Maggie’s business was online; she shipped ‘haunted’ and ‘magical’ artifacts all across the globe to e-goths with bad backs and Wicca wannabes. Truthfully, Maggie didn’t really need your help running the storefront, but she claimed she enjoyed the company—even if said company was bitterly sarcastic and hypercritical of the product she was stocking. 

“Hey, Mags,” you called. The bell on the front door tinkled in the background as you shoved it open with your shoulder. You paused to scratch under Maggie’s ancient tabby’s chin until he let out a sawing purr. You weren't exactly sure how old Gizmo was, but he behaved more like the taxidermied animals on the walls than the stray cats that lived in the small alley behind the store. 

“Maggie’s head popped up from the circle of book-stack pillars surrounding her. A few of her black curls frizzed out from her bun like a chaotic springy bow and her sweater swallowed her whole despite the relatively warm evening. “Babe,” Maggie placed her hands on your shoulders and grinned at you with a little too much teeth, “thorn in my side, light of my life.”

You lifted the large pair of acrylic glasses from Maggie’s nest of curls and then slipped them over her rounded nose with a reluctant sigh, “What?”

“Glasses. That was next on the agenda.” Maggie blinked owlishly behind her lenses as her eyes adjusted, and then they lit up with whatever it was she’d miraculously remembered, “I am so delighted to see you.”

“It’s Monday.” Gizmo curled around your leg and meowed pathetically until you bent down and lifted him onto you shoulder, “I work Mondays.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, “I’m aware; I made the schedule. The Concerta isn’t completely defective.”

You grinned a little, and Gizmo kneaded your chest in agreement, “So: You’re delighted to see me.”

Nodding rapidly, Maggie picked up a lavishly bound book from one of the stacks of new inventory. It was so tall that it reached her chin, and there were four more just like it in the back. “I need these stocked for realsies,” Maggie said, blowing off the thin layer of dust that had started to gather on the cover. She dropped the book back on top of the pile with a loud thump and carefully avoided knocking anything over on her way to the front of the store, “And I’m currently in the middle of a bidding war.”

“Haunted or historical?” you grabbed the clunky price gun off of the tarot card display.

“A little of both actually,” Maggie hummed, fiercely focused on the computer screen. Her nose was almost smashed against the monitor.

You set Gizmo down on the floor, patting his head tenderly when he let out a disgruntled whine and clawed at your thin knee socks. Eventually, the effort became too much for his poor paws to bear, and he waddled off towards one of his many nesting spots. “For you or for the store?” you pulled the stepladder away from the wall of stone runes and protection charms and plopped yourself down on the top step.

“For you, actually,” Maggie grinned a little and winked, “don’t say I never gave ya’ nothing.”

“Wonderful,” you dropped your chin into your cupped hands, “a poltergeist bonus.”

Maggie huffed and shoved the sleeves of her hand-knitted cardigan up to her elbows, “It’s not actually haunted. Not really. It’s like…a spirit router, basically. Whatever. It’ll make me feel better about you walking around with a rabid Cujo on the loose.”

“Aw,” you smirked good-naturedly and slapped a price tag on a book entitled ‘Heal the Witch Wound Inside’—$35.99, and for what? You were too amused to point out the redundancy of rabid Cujo. “You got me a guardian angel.”

“Trying to,” Maggie corrected her under her breath, “but MagikMike9917 is a persistent little bitch.”

You laughed and slid ‘Witch Wound’ into the self-help section, “Just get me a mini-taser; they come in some real cute cases now.”

“Mhm.” Maggie briefly glanced over in your direction and then abruptly whirled her head back towards the thick book in your hands, “Not that one.”

You narrowed your gaze as you examined the cover of the book more closely. You had to admit, it was beautiful. The leather was a deep burgundy, and the spine was hand stitched together with gold thread—but it was the carving on the front that really caught your attention. There were two wolves etched into the leather. Their howling snouts pointed towards the full moon above their heads, and their tails entwined around the roots of a large tree sprouting into the sky. Ornate symbols framed the borders of the scene, and a few scattered jewels glinted in the light. It must have taken at least a week to finish. 

You held up the book, your brow curved into a high arch, “This for me too? ‘Cause I’ve already seen The Witcher; pretty sure I got the gist.”

Rolling her eyes, Maggie reached blindly for her soup mug of passionflower and mugwort tea. The smell of it was truly rank, but you had grown accustomed to the musky bitterness over the years. “That one’s already sold. They should be dropping by to pick it up anytime now.” She raised her cup towards you, “I told you bestiaries are essential reading.”

“For dungeon masters, maybe,” you hummed as you studied the cover again. The red and citrine jewels in the wolves’ eyes seemed to be winking at you when the light hit them at the just right angle. 

“Which is an essential contribution to society,” Maggie punctuated her sentence with a loud slurp. 

Your lips gave way to a small grin as you set the book to the side. You’d stocked around half the stacks of books when the front door chimed for the first time since your shift started. You looked towards the door and squinted at the increasingly familiar smattering of freckles and moles, “Are you stalking me now? I will tell your dad; I’m not above snitching or stitches.” 

Stiles blinked a few times and then shook his head, holding up his hands, “I swear on my jeep this time it’s a coincidence. I ordered something here like a week ago.”

You folded your arms over your chest, “And your jeep is sacred, is it?”

Stiles nodded solemnly and rested his hand over his chest, “The sacredest.” 

If the muttered cursing and aggressive sipping was anything to go by, Maggie was too busy with her eBay war to be of any help with inventory. Stocking would have to wait. You stood up and glanced over Stiles’s shoulder, “Where’s your sidekick?”

Stiles squeezed one eye almost completely shut and looked off into the void with the other until realization dawned over his face, “You mean Scott?” He snorted and shot you a grin that was loaded with self-pity, “I’m usually the sidekick reference. Always, actually.” 

You nodded and looked down, searching for the culprit of the little head butting into your shin. Gizmo was probably the most ineffective, geriatric guard dog in the entire animal kingdom, but you appreciated the effort. You scooped him up into your arms so that he could better inspect the strange boy who’d invaded his den and nuzzled your nose against the black stripe on top of his head. “They do tend to never shut up.” 

Stiles looked like he wanted to argue—a frequent expression of you were beginning to realize—and then his shoulders slumped in defeat, “Holy shit, I’ve been type-casted.”

“You could do an arthouse film,” you tilted your head, “show people you’ve got range.”

Stiles nodded, considering the idea, “My charming wit and boyish good looks are really holding me back.” He stooped down to scratch behind Gizmo’s ears. Gizmo bristled for a moment, eyeing his hand suspiciously, but he eventually flopped back in your arms after a few curious sniffs. “No one takes me seriously.”

“Uh huh.” You watched Stiles pet Gizmo and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying to remember the last man Gizmo hadn’t bit. You couldn’t recall a single one. Warmth enveloped your face when Stiles looked up and met your gaze. He didn’t appear to think much of it, just turned his eyes towards the ground and stroked Gizmo’s little gray toes. 

You set Giz down, despite his pathetic protests, and turned towards the stockpile of inventory, fighting the urge to bite your nails to the quick, “So, what’d you order, boy wonder?” You looked over your shoulder when Stiles didn’t answer. He was smiling a little, mostly to himself, with his hands shoved in his pockets. Your brows quirked, “What?”

“Nothing.” He groaned a little when you kept looking at him, your brows still cocked, and then shrugged with his hands still fisted in his jacket pockets, “It’s just not so bad, the sidekick thing. It’s not so pathetic when you say it like that.”

You swallowed, a little startled by his honesty even though you were the one who’d insisted upon it. “Order?”

“Right,” he nodded a few times and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a thickass book, wolves on the front, about yea big,” Stiles held his palms almost six inches apart from each other. “Please don’t make me say the name; I’m pretty sure it’s Latin.”

You grabbed the bestiary you’d set aside earlier and looked at the cover again; there was a small inscription just below the tree roots. “It’s Greek, actually.” You brushed your fingers over the indented letters, “φυσιολόγος.”

Stiles shook his head and took his frustration out on the air with a dramatic jerk of his hands, “In English?”

“The Naturalist,” your lips curled into a shrewd smile, “so sorry we don’t carry it in Japanese.”

Stiles pursed his lips and snatched the book out of your hands. “Hilarious. Truly. I don’t just watch anime, y’know. I also like…” he trailed off and scratched at the nape of his neck, “very cool, normal things.”

“Such as?” 

He pulled a face that was distinctly reminiscent of a little kid sticking their tongue out, “Such as shut your face.”

“Wow.” Shaking your head, you returned to your task of shelving books—this one was about the spiritual properties of mushrooms—and made a popping noise with your tongue against the top of your mouth, “You better hope there’s an English translation in there ‘cause consider my mouth officially shut.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Stiles continued quickly, words almost overlapping with the speed of his tongue, before you could take advantage of such low-hanging fruit, “I made sure I could read it before I bought it—being comprehensible is literally the least it can do for 50 bucks plus shipping.” He shook his head and held up the book, “Can you believe the library wouldn’t order it for me?”

“Imagine that,” you chided, “and with all the demand for vintage bestiaries too.”

He dropped his order on top of a rickety writing desk that supposedly belonged to a Beacon Hills’ heretic who died in the 1800s—at least, according to the tag hanging from one of the drawers and Maggie’s generous interpretation of her family history. “D&D is coming back in a big, big way,” Stiles pointed at you and winked with obnoxious flourish, “just you wait.”

You smirked, pointedly ignoring your recurrent childhood obsession with Egyptian and Roman mythology, and smacked the side of the price gun until the sticker tape unjammed, “My instinct is to make fun of you, but I’m afraid the hypocrisy will catch up with me.”

“What?” Stiles glanced around the store and smirked, “Are you one of those new-agey astrology, crystal nerds? How many fingers is my aura holding up right now?”

You gave him a flat look and reached for another book. “We don’t sell crystals, actually. They aren’t that common in ritualistic spell-casting.”

Stiles blinked slowly, “You’re joking.”

“Wish I was.” You still weren't entirely sure if Maggie actually believed in all this spiritualist-mythical bullshit. She contradicted herself constantly, and often said things just to make your face pinch in disbelief, but at the same time she still insisted that you keep a protection charm bundle under your bed. The smell of the divination tea, at the very least, was great at warding off unwanted chitchat. “Animal blood is the main ingredient in most of ‘em.”

“That’s…repulsive,” Stiles cringed, restless fingers meandering towards the shelves of books next to you. He pulled out a small illuminated grimoire and flipped through the yellowing pages, pulling a face every so often at some of the more unsavory hex materials. 

You pried the book from his fingers and slid it back into its correct slot. Maggie didn’t actually ask you to organize them; her exact words were, ‘Slap a sticker on ‘em and stick ‘em on a shelf,’ but the idea of such a chaotic setup haunted you until you finally reshelved them all with a revised, occult-specific Dewey Decimal System. “It’s actually just corn syrup and—”

“100% authentic dove juice,” Maggie interrupted from behind the front counter without removing her face from her monitor.

Stiles jerked his head to the side, evidently just realizing that there was someone else in the room with you, and then swiveled back to you with his face stretched out in a toothy grin, “That dove juice discount must save you, like, so much money.”

You watched Stiles, warily and wearily, reach for a meditation journal from one of the heaps by your legs, “I have to stock that.”

Stiles turned the journal over in his hands, “Lemme help.”

You huffed deeply and gestured to the diligently organized bookshelves, “I have a system.”

He gave a staunch shake of his head and hunched down so that he could read the small stickers on the spines, “I owe you—for covering for me.”

You took the journal from his hands and squatted down to the bottom shelf. You quickly found the guided meditation section and managed to squeeze the bulky notebook between ‘Walking the Pagan Path’ and ‘Warding Your Mind' with some aggressive wiggling. You looked up briefly and met Stiles’s eyeline. He was especially lanky from this angle. Lanky and soft, with his layers of sleeves and rounded features. You tucked a loose curl behind your ear and looked back at the line of jewel-toned spines, “How is he? Scott?”

“Better.” He tapped his fingers against the top of the bookshelf to a rhythmic beat that felt familiar, “Exposure therapy is a real pain in the ass.”

“I thought it was ‘low blood sugar.’”

“That too.” Stiles leaned over your head and grabbed another book, and you shivered the soft cotton hem of his jacket skimmed over your face. “He’s hemophobic and breakfastphobic,” he said as he handed you the book. You hummed softly in appreciation as he continued, “It’s a vicious cycle, actually. Dude would totally fall apart without me.”

“That’s nice.” You tipped your chin up towards him and grinned, “Totally bogus, but still nice.”

“I told you.” His smile was smug, but somehow still dopey enough to be charming, “I’m a nice guy.”

Your thighs started to ache from squatting in the same position for so long, so you dropped onto your knees, shivering as your bare skin pressed against the cold hardwood floor. “I’m still not sharing my sacrificial blood discount with you.”

“Guess I have to get a job here, then,” Stiles shrugged and leaned against the bookcase, jerking back a bit when he turned his head and came face-to-face with a yellow-eyed taxidermied owl. He turned it around until the glass eyes were safely pointed in the opposite direction and said, “That way I can drive you nuts all day long and become a master wizard.”

You clicked your tongue; the cluck rang with saccharinely sweet pity, “Sucks that you’re only qualified for the first part.”

“Yeah? How’d you get the job, then? You clearly don’t respect the craft.” Stiles ran his spindly fingers along a row of spines, and you wondered if he could play the piano. He certainly had the hands for it. 

“Mags knew my mom, so…” you chewed on your lip until the metallic tang of copper burst on the tip of your tongue. You abruptly returned your attention to shelving the Wicca section and fiddled with the spines until they were all perfectly in line with each other, “It’s more nepotism than anything else, but I do take the history books home sometimes.”

Stiles looked at you, and the prickling sensation of being seen started slithering through your nervous system again. It took you a few tries to get Greek and Roman Necromancy to slip into the small gap on the shelf in front of you. Stiles crouched down next to you. His mouth was twisted around a sly smile, but you could see the earnestness in his eyes, “Witch training?”

You grinned a little, grateful for the out, “Hardly. I just like the lore.”

“Yeah,” Stiles’ gaze drifted towards the book he ordered; the wolves’ gleaming eyes were almost hypnotic, “me too.” 

“I’d hope so, for 50 bucks.” you nudged his knee with your elbow, and he swayed precariously on his perched toes and then shot you a glare that lacked any actual malice. “There are cheaper D&D monster manuals, y’know.”

He snickered and elbowed you in the ribs, gently but his bony limbs were sharp and unforgiving, “I knew you were a nerd.”

You were tempted to rebut the accusation, but he already had far too much evidence to the contrary. At least, he didn’t know about your Data/Geordi fanfiction phase—and no one ever would, you thought darkly. You’d have to kill them, probably, or at the very least flee the country.

“At least I’m not a sucker.” You stood up and brushed off your socks, though there was nothing to be done about the red indentations on your kneecaps from kneeling on oak flooring for so long, “Just how easy would it be to convince you to drop another 50 on a replica Byzantine amulet?”

Stiles held out his hand, shaking it in the air incessantly for far too long. You tilted your head and tried not to smirk at his predicament. The longer you watched him struggle, the more pathetic his pleading became. Eventually, Stiles groaned and pushed himself onto his feet with exaggerated effort, “Obviously not very. Evil spirit didn’t even crack the top 20 on my suspect pool.”

“Got it.” You propped your arm on top of an antique guillotine, bent elbow crooked along the wooden pillory. Stiles stared at the rusted blade and then gawked at your arm. He looked like he was a few seconds away from shoving you out of the way, even though the edge was dull with age and safely secured to the iron frame with thick rope. Rolling your eyes, you stepped away from the antique and trailed your fingers over a less forbidding oddity. 

You spun the brass globe a few times and said, “So silver bullets, then? I’m sure there’s some kind of bulk-discount we can work out.”

Stiles’ eyes snapped to your face, “What?”

“You know,” you gestured towards the order he abandoned while buzzing after you like an especially tenacious mosquito, “for all the werewolves running around town. Thought you’d already know that, being a wannabe wizard n’all.” 

“Right.” Stiles’s jaw shut with a click as he ran his hand over his head, “Duh.” He rubbed at his bicep and swallowed a few times before clearing his throat, “Didn’t get to that chapter yet. Clearly, I’ve got a lot of studying to do before I graduate from apprentice to master.” 

You squinted at him, mulling over if you should call him out on his odd behavior or just chalk it up to his usual weirdness. Maggie materialized behind you before you could do either. She placed her hands on your shoulders, squeezing softly, and then shuffled you to the side so that she could join your little circle, “I’m strictly anti-gun violence; the NRA hates me—but we do carry wolfsbane essence.”

“Don’t say essence,” you grimaced.

“We have some wolfsbane goo in the back.” Maggie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and pivoted back to you, “Happy?”

“Not even remotely.” You turned towards Stiles, finally grateful for his presence. Usually, you were on your own in your never-ending believer versus non-believer disputes, and Maggie was somehow under the impression that she wasn’t massively outnumbered beyond these four spooky walls. Oddly, Stiles looked lost in thought. The one time you needed his dismissive snark, and he just had to actually consider the opposing side.

“Is this like the dove juice thing?” Stiles watched Maggie’s face closely, astute eyes tracking every minute twitch and flicker in her expression. It was easy to make out all the different pieces of Sheriff Stilinski in his face like this. You could see the calculations running behind his eyes, the strings coming together, the chess pieces moving. The effect was startlingly piercing. “Or is this actually the real deal?”

You stared at him, face scrunched in bewilderment, but Maggie was undeterred, “We only sell the real deal in the back, to the honored few.”

Stiles looked towards you, his right brow raised. You sighed, folding your arms over your chest and flicking your hair over your shoulder, “Real useless, but…yeah. The plants are real I guess.”

Maggie winked, “I’ll even give you the friends and family discount.”

You scoffed, “We aren’t friends.”

Stiles frowned, momentarily distracted from his intense investigation of Maggie’s body language, “We aren’t?”

You licked your rapidly drying lips and shook your head slightly, more confused than indignant. Truth be told, you’d expected him to agree with you. You hadn’t known each other for long, and he seemed to be more interested in your connection to Lydia than forming one with you. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wanted to talk to you about anything else. It’d been a long time since anyone wanted to, that’s all. The friends who hugged you at the funeral, they stopped coming around a long time ago, and they still avoided you at school—like you were contagious, like you’d leak radiation and your misery would metastasize in their bone marrow. You still woke up crying sometimes, throat claggy with stubborn shadows, choking on the hollow bones of picked-apart memories—too busy shoveling dirt to consider tomorrow. 

You scratched at your arm absently and rolled your eyes, slowly, so that everyone could see how utterly unaffected you were, “It’s a couple hundred bucks for a few millimeters of emulsified weeds. If we were friends, I wouldn’t even let you buy something so stupid.”

Stiles’s frown quickly curved into a crooked grin, boyishly charming and vexingly sure, “Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re trying to do.”

Maggie reappeared through the door to the back room, locking it with one of the many keys dangling from her strawberry lanyard. You didn’t have a clue when she’d disappeared to begin with, but the vial clutched in her hand was far more interesting. It was filled with a thick purple liquid, so dark it was almost black. Maggie held it out to Stiles and laughed at his inquisitive stare, “It’s on the house this time, ‘cause you’re such good friends with my darlingest girl.”

Eventually, Stiles took the vial from her hand. “Yeah, darling,” Stiles smirked and rolled the vial between his long fingers, “‘cause we’re such good friends.” The liquid sloshed slowly, a little like a lava lamp, and you kind of wanted to stuff it down his throat.

“Careful with that,” Maggie blinked at you behind her thick lenses. She wasn’t grinning or winking. It was a little eerie to see her so still, like her body had been snatched by a pod person and it was trying to mimic casual human behavior. “It's potent stuff. Shish-kebab a were with that, and they’ll be dead by sunrise—humans too, obviously, so please don’t stick it in your mouth.”

“If you can even get that close,” Stiles muttered to himself as he held the vial up to his pinched gaze.

“To a werewolf,” you deadpanned, looking between the two of them, searching their faces for any indication of irony. Bat-shit. Your grand total of two friends were both certifiably batty.

Stiles was too busy looking at the back of Maggie’s head to absorb your mockery. Your brow furrowed at the intensity of his stare until your attention was diverted to the dusky orange cast over his skin. You glanced out the window; daylight was rapidly fading. Was it really already almost 8:30? “You should probably head home,” you raised your chin towards the door, “if you don’t want to run into the big bad wolf with a purple goo heavy arsenal.” 

He let out a little laugh, more like a breath really, and muttered, “You have no idea.” Your forehead crinkled as you parsed over whatever the hell that meant, and Stiles shoved the book he ordered into his already overcrowded backpack. “I’ll see you at school.”

Your chin bobbed as you gave him a little nod. You lifted Gizmo from his bed of tasseled meditation cushions, for your own comfort this time, and nosed into his matted fur. Maybe, Stiles was just…really into larping, or maybe he was just…a really dedicated collector of supernatural keepsakes—because there was absolutely no way that you just naturally attracted delusional conspiracy theorists. You’d already met your quota of one the moment you were born. 

“Get home safe.” Stiles’s voice pulled your face from Gizmo’s neck. He lingered against the doorframe, clutching his backpack strap. The corner of his mouth cocked into a tight smile, “No more dead batteries after dark, okay? I’ll kick your ass if you get eaten.”

You took a moment to smile, but once you did, it unfurled over your entire face like sunset coating the store in a golden glow. The corners of your eyes crinkled as you shook your head a little, “I’ll try to restrain myself from killing any more cars.”

“Friends,” Stiles grinned and pointed at you, “we’re totally friends.” He ducked out the door before you had the chance to disagree, but you couldn’t decide if you really wanted to this time. 

You almost dropped Gizmo when Maggie bumped you with your hip. “Who the hell was that?” 

“Stiles. He’s…” you waved your hand in the air and eventually settled on, “a friend.”

Maggie stroked the gray fluff on Gizmo’s cheek, cooed when he rubbed his face against her palm, and then pursed her lips, “Uh huh.”

You shrugged and buried your nose in Gizmo’s neck again, taking solace in the fact that at least half of your face was hidden by silver fur, “So he’s more like a fungus in my life.”

Maggie’s grin was insufferable. Her cheeks dimpled, and her eyes nearly disappeared into happy little crescent moons, “Uh huh.”

You glowered at a stuffed crow perched on top of a water-logged armoire; there was a shine in its beaded eyes that appeared a lot like laughter. “You are the single most irritating person I have ever met.”

It was an admirable trait, never getting upset, never getting offended—but at the moment you wished that Maggie wasn’t so idealistic. She simply gave you a smile that was annoyingly wrought with meaning and took Gizmo from your arms. “Whoever the hell he is, he’s right. Get your ass home before the Wolf Man bites it.”

Maggie wiggled her fingers in the air, and you shoved them away from your face. “I’m going. I’m going.” You paused at the door, gave the store one last look and Gizmo a little good-bye wave, “Seriously, mini-taser, Mags. Prime shipping’s gotta be faster than the spirit realm.” At the very least, a taser might actually have a chance against whatever carnivore was hell-bent on ruining your sophomore year.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Hey Sleepy, I was curious about the MI6 lore and about the other members of the mysterious group Jade was in. Like, are they still alive? What they look like and so on

Hello Anon! (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

So, I got this similar question about a few months ago, and I've answered it here !

However since then I've cooked some thoughts on the (fictional) MI6 lore and The Jewels!

💎 The Jewels Project Lore 💎

The Jewels Project commenced in 1975. Initiated by Oscar Fletcher, the Jewels are highly skilled individuals who are experts in information gathering, infiltration, espionage, sabotage, and silent assassination.

Oscar Fletcher picks out the members himself, who, at that time were children at the age of 8-10 years old. He specifically selects the kids whose parents abandoned them, died, or were criminals. In his own words, "start from clean slate".

Fletcher trained them with rigorous and harsh training regiments for years and years, teaching them how to manipulate, eliminate, and act. He forged and shaped them to his liking, executing countless black missions effectively and smoothly.

By the age of early teenagers, they're all sent to different missions, acting like an innocent child, and began their first missions, in which they had to assassinate the targets. If they succeeded, they're deemed qualified and given a code-name, which inducts them into the Jewels.

Throughout 1975-1995, There are 10 members of the Jewels (First Generation), sent out to various missions around the world, aiding British's military efforts and/or simply those who MI6 deems as an ally. The success rate exceeded more than the MI6 initially projected, leaving Fletcher an important and untouchable figure among the MI6 authorities.

By the year 1997, 3 members of the Jewels died, and by 2000, 2 members ran away from Fletcher. In the midst of political tensions and wars, only 5 people remained.

After the events of 9/11, Fletcher recruited another 10 members of the Jewels (Second Generation), made them go through the same training, if not more grueling. Sending them to more missions globally until 2020.

As of today, Oscar Fletcher is no longer an active MI6 officer. But the Jewels are still at MI6's disposal unless they retire.

What do they look like?

They all look like normal people. Oscar specifically picked kids who looked ordinary. No striking featurs, and furthermore, he picked kids who are easy to befriend. Not a lot of people have this trait, so he picked every kid very specifically.

Currently each one of the Jewels live among the civilians. They're accountants, florists, janitors, photocopy machine operator, cashiers, retail workers, sales, and many more. They hide in absolute plain sight, and before you know it, they'll become your acquaintance, and they'll know you more than you know yourselves.

Where is Ruby, Garnet, and Jade in This?

Ruby and Garnet were recruited together in 1975 at 9 years old.

Ruby and Garnet participated in the Cold War conflicts (not with Adler and co.; they're somewhere else), Falklands War, Gulf War, and Kosovo War.

They're already friends from their training years, and they're often paired together in a mission.

Right after The Kosovo War, and along with the growing tension in the Middle East, Ruby and Garnet, who realized that their lives will never belong to them, and they'll always be deployed to warzones, decided to run away from MI6 in the year 2000.

9/11/2001 happened, and Fletcher's need of more Jewels were imminent. He started to look for more new members of Jewels, and search for Ruby and Garnet himself, deeming them as loose ends.

Lottie's orphanage got bombed. Ruby and Garnet found the lone little Lottie in the streets alone, and took them under their wing.

Fletcher caught up to them, and non-lethally shot Ruby and Garnet, declared them dead, and took the little Lottie to be the new member of the Jewels as Ruby and Garnet's replacement.

Along with 9 other additional members of Jewels, Jade were deployed to various parts of the world, preventing potential conflicts before it happens, and ended conflicts before it arises beyond control under the shadows.

at 2019, Jade decided to retire, and went to Verdansk as her last mission, where she met Simon "Ghost" Riley.

---

I think that's all I can tell you so far! ヾ(≧▽≦*)o I'll for sure delve deep into the Oscar, Garnet/Ruby stories once BOPS6 releases.

Stay tuned and thank you for asking!

[singsweetmelodies]

a little while ago, i got this ask asking me if i could make some sort of introduction to the pierre/charles ship and all its lore. and since they are, without question, my f1 rpf OTP, my answer was oh my god yes of course. it's taken me a little while to compile all that lore - because boy, is there a lot - but it's been one of the happiest research projects of my life, without question. and i think it's finally ready to go!! so, with no further ado...

ABOUT PIARLES: a (not-so-brief) introduction to f1 rpf's french friends to lovers ship

so the first thing you need to know about piarles is that they're childhood best friends. not that uncommon in a sport like f1, to be fair - most of the drivers grew up together, racing against each other in karting. but pierre and charles are a little different in that they aren't just karting acquaintances: the two of them (and their entire families) are genuinely good friends.

in fact, if you ask either pierre or charles about the other (and interviewers often do) one of the first things they'll probably say is "we've known each other for a long time," quickly followed by "we used to go on holiday together when we were kids." and they ALWAYS say this with the fondest expressions 🥰 even if you take shipping completely out of the equation, it's clear that these two have a very long-standing and very close friendship, with many fond memories which both of them seem to treasure very much.

in charles' own words:

"Pierre! We know each other since... a long, long time. We used to go on holidays together when we were children with our parents, and uh... we did quite a bit of mess together when we were children, but (laughs) very good memories. And the relationship never really changed throughout the years, even though we have taken different paths, because he was a bit older, so we weren't always in the same categories. But we would always call each other, text each other, go on holidays together... and yeah, I just have so many memories." (source - watch from timestamp 2:06)

pierre tells a very similar story:

"He's definitely one of my best friends. Charles is a very nice person and an incredible driver. We met when we were 9 years old and created a very strong bond. Our parents are very close, and we went on vacations from when we were 10, so we created lots of memories. We were teammates in karting when we were 12, and today we find ourselves in Formula 1. It's a pretty incredible story. But for me the most important part is to see the person he's become, and he hasn't changed since he was young." (source)

i think it's important to note that these aren't the only times pierre and charles have spoken about each other in glowing terms like this - no, it happens quite frequently. pretty much every time they're asked about each other, tbh. (i'm not going to add quotes from every single time here, though, because we would be here for the rest of the month if i tried. 😅) the point is, piarles are pretty damn close, and think very highly of each other.

but it's not just them that are close: like i mentioned in the first paragraphs of this post, their families are close, too. they really are childhood friends in that "your family is practically my second family" sense, which i think is something really special.

here, for example, is pierre's father jean-jacques talking about charles:

Charles is part of the family. We've known him since he was nine and when he started in karting with Pierre. (...) When the races were in England Charles was sleeping at our place, and when the races were in Italy, Pierre was sleeping at Charles's place. Then Pierre moved to F4. I don't think there have ever been a big rivalry between them even though their careers were similar. Charles is part of the family probably even more since Hervé passed away. Our door will always be open for him and he knows.” (source)

🥹

what's more, charles has also said numerous times that it's hard to maintain true friendships in f1 - but his bond with pierre is one of those rare exceptions:

It’s rare I think, it’s very rare to have a sincere friendship in F1, because there’s a lot of competition. So yes there’s friendship, but it’s not always entirely sincere - but with Pierre it really is, and it has always been. (source)

they're friends. they really are friends, not just friendly coworkers, like many of the other f1 drivers are. pierre and charles genuinely like and appreciate each other's company very much - which, even if you put shipping completely aside, is just such a wonderful thing, and always makes me smile so much.

one of my personal favourite moments was when pierre talked about charles on the beyond the grid podcast in 2023:

"That's why I really like these chats that I can have with Charles, because I know with Charles, discussing about both our lives, we won't judge each other... because we know what it's like and we just speak very openly about various things. And I know it's almost like a happy place or a comfortable place where you really feel you can open up. He'll understand, I'll understand him..." (source - listen from timestamp 32:01)

if that doesn't make your heart melt at least a little bit, then i don't know what to say to you.

... no, actually, i do. if this kind of sentimentality won't do it for you, how about a bit of silliness and humour?

that's right. like any good childhood friends, pierre and charles also have an embarrassing nickname for each other: "calamar," which is french for "squid." (we know that they call each other that courtesy of charles' insta).

what on earth is the origin of this nickname, you may be wondering? well, according to pierre...

"It goes back to a long time ago when we were kids, like... nine, ten years old. We would go on holidays together and spend more time. I don't know. It just came, like one day we decided to call each other calamar, which is not really such a beautiful nickname, but yeah it was just for fun. We were kids and we were laughing. And actually, we have many other nicknames because we were teammates also in karting and we spent a lot, a lot of time together. So, a lot of nicknames came alongside all this time. And this kind of stayed with us." (source)

as pierre said in this quote, "calamar" is not even the only nickname they have - pierre sometimes calls charles "charlito" and also "charlo," while charles calls pierre "mon petit."

and as if that's not enough, they're also that pair of boyfriends friends who always have to bring each other up in conversation. if there's ever an interview question along the lines of "which f1 driver would you...." then you can pretty much bet pierre will answer "charles," and charles will answer "pierre."

for example, here is pierre choosing charles as the one f1 driver he'd take for a drink. and here is charles naming pierre as his best friend in the paddock. oh, and here is pierre saying he'd choose charles as one driver to take with him to a desert island. there's more, but i think you get the idea 😆❤️

so yeah! that's a quick(ish) overview of the background/context of piarles - AKA the french (yes, i know charles is monégasque, but he SPEAKS french) friends/boyfriends on the grid.

(if you'd like to know more details about their friendship, especially about their pre-f1 years, then i recommend this post and its follow-up compiled by the incredible @vegasgrandprix. these posts really are a treasure trove for piarles history & lore!)

but now that i've painted a pretty clear picture of their friendship, let's move on to some more shippy moments, shall we? the "lovers" part of friends to lovers <3333

believe it or not, eveything up till now was just the background information about piarles. it's more than enough to build an OTP on already, i'd say - but wait, there's more!

the thing with pierre and charles is that along with being friends, they are also french (or....french-adjacent. close enough) which means that they have absolutely zero problem with being very openly affectionate with each other.

this has given us some very delicious shipping moments, which i will now try and give an overview of. (my fellow piarlies: if i've left out one of your favourite moments, please forgive me - they have so many moments with each other, and tumblr has a post character limit, so there was just no way for me to include everything, much as i wanted to. but i do think this is a good introduction!)

let's start with perhaps the most iconic piarles moment of them all: monza 2020, aka pierre gasly's first win in f1.

that was a crazy, wonderful day in so many ways - first of all, the race itself was insane. pierre started 10th on the grid, and with a lot of luck + a safety car that really worked out for him, ended up leading the race and defended from carlos sainz with DRS to get his maiden win. this was almost exactly a year after he'd been dropped from red bull, so the win was pretty much the biggest fuck-you to everyone @ RBR and comeback moment for pierre that was possible. it was also a dream come true (every f1 driver dreams about winning a race!) and you only need to look at any interview pierre did afterwards to see how much it meant to him.

what makes it even more insane, though, is that charles was right there to congratulate him and watch his podium. keep in mind that, in the same race, charles crashed out - both ferraris did, in monza of all places. i don't think anyone would've been surprised, or held it against him at all, if charles just kept his head down for the rest of that day.

but no. even though he wasn't medically cleared after the crash yet (!!) charles went to parc fermé anyway to congratulate pierre. remember that thing i said about them being french and very open with affection? well:

here are some pictures of the monza piarles congratulations hug. (am i the only one who thinks it looks like charles wants to kiss pierre in that second pic?! god....) here and here are some more angles of the hug to go insane over, if you like.

you can also watch it in video format here - and yes, charles really did pull pierre out of his hug with romain so that he could congratulate him himself. i know. (also, yes, pierre does pat charles' ass just before they go their separate ways. what can i say? french.)

as if that's not already insane enough, charles also stayed to watch pierre's podium despite not being medically cleared yet after his crash. (we have to thank netflix FOREVER for providing us with that specific behind-the-scenes shot 🙏 drive to survive - you did well that time, you really did.)

and afterwards, charles said:

It was just a dream for one of us to get into F1 one day. In the end we’re both in F1, we’ve both won a GP, both of us in Monza. (...) I was really happy that day, even if my race went wrong, his win made it a good day. (source)

your honour. who says that about another driver's win, especially on a day where you yourself had an awful race? if that's not love in a sport like f1, i don't know what is!

i really could talk about monza 2020 and how much it means for a very long time, but i will rein myself in to just one final comment: isn't it rather beautiful to think that pierre & charles' names will always be next to each other in the monza winners list? charles won there in 2019, and then pierre won there in 2020. talk about soulmatism ❤️💙

now, moving on to another absolutely iconic (and delightfully gay) piarles moment: baku 2021, aka that time pierre and charles had an awesome last-lap battle for the P3 podium spot.

it was very close racing, with them swapping positions several times down the straight - but they kept it clean. in fact, they kept it so clean that someone remarked it's like they know each other by heart. yup. totally a normal thing to say about two men racing.

equally normal was charles' comments after the race:

"The last lap was my favourite part of the race. It was crazy and had a lot of actions. With Pierre it was hot. I'm happy for him for his podium." (source)

and as if that's not enough, he also GRABBED pierre into a hug in parc fermé, and then held him incredibly close while congratulating him.

you can watch this hug in video format here and gif format here, if you want - and i really recommend doing so, because it's insane to see how charles quite literally crashes into pierre's personal space and yanks him into a hug. (here is a close-up of their helmets during said hug - and you can just say it with me. GAY.)

that's still not all, though: charles congratulated pierre twice after the race. once on the outlap (with a thumbs-up and a middle finger as pierre's car drove past his, LMAO) and then on social media as well (with a nickname and a kiss emoji).

he ALSO commented on pierre's instagram post about the race with another kiss emoji:

so, apparently, charles was thinking about kissing pierre quite a lot in baku 2021. 🤭 an iconic day all around!

and as it happens, 2021 brought us another iconic piarles moment - though this one is a whole less happy. i'm talking about styria 2021, aka that time pierre and charles had contact in a race, and pierre had to retire from that grand prix.

here is the official f1 news article about the incident - the long and the short of it is that charles misjudged on lap 1 and crashed into the side of pierre's car, ending pierre's race. naturally, pierre was furious and upset, especially because the alphatauri was actually a good car in 2021, and he'd stood to score really good points that sunday.

now, for most f1 girlies, an incident like this between childhood friends immediately brings up vivid brocedes flashbacks. and, to be honest, it wouldn't have been that much of a surprise if this had indeed soured pierre and charles' friendship - we saw exactly this happen with pierre and esteban, after all.

but no. charles went to see pierre post-race to clear the air between them, and although pierre was furious with him, he didn't let it ruin their friendship. in fact, when he was asked how the incident affected their friendship, pierre had the following to say:

"Yeah... I was really sad to end 15 years of friendship. He is no more my friend (laughs). No, no, it's... honestly, it was really painful, you know, you work so hard the whole weekend for Sunday to score points, and then after literally like 20 seconds, the whole race was over. So, quite a difficult one to swallow, but, you know, we know each other, with Charles, we have a lot of respect for each other. He came to see me after the race - I was still pretty pissed off with him, but, uh, we knew before last Sunday, nothing ever happened between us on the race-track, and we knew one day it would happen. Unfortunately I paid the price more than him, but yeah, it's racing, unfortunately. (...) It's painful, it's racing, it happens sometimes - I just told him to make sure it doesn't happen another time, and... we're fine." (source - watch from 17:01)

i think that styria 2021 is vital piarles lore not because it's a fun shippy moment, but rather because it shows the strength of their connection. an incident like this could easily have destroyed their friendship, but they didn't let it. they mean enough to each other that they let what happens on-track stay on-track and not affect their closeness off-track. and that, i think, is something truly special - they were tested in a way which has destroyed f1 friendships before, and yet they still came out stronger.

iconic indeed.

on a happier note again, now, there is also montreal 2022, which many piarles fans consider one of THE seminal piarles moments. the race itself was not so memorable for our boys this time, but what they did off-track is.

that is to say: pierre and charles went on a dinner date. then, they were spotted driving around the streets of montreal in a white ferrari. and THEN, as if that's not mind-blowing enough already... charles posted, to his public instagram story, a video of pierre wearing his charles-leclerc-16 branded ferrari hat.

these screenshots are peanut quality, i'm sorry, lmao... but all of montreal 2022 feels a bit like a fever dream in the best way, so i think the blurriness just captures the vibes, tbh.

we're not quite done with montreal 2022 yet, though - earlier on the same day, charles also had a very sweet hello with pierre's parents. you can just SEE how much pierre's parents love charles, and isn't that just the most heartwarming thing 😭❤️

now, one final thing about montreal 2022: pierre never posted his infamous photo dump after that race. that might not seem particularly important, but... this is the only race of 2022 for which pierre DIDN'T post a photo dump.

there are a thousand and one theories about why he didn't - maybe he just forgot, maybe he had a busy weekend, maybe he didn't have any photos he wanted to share. or, in a more shippy interpretation... maybe he does have photos, especially photos of charles, but he doesn't want to share them/wants to keep them all to himself. we don't know!

one lucky piarlie got to meet pierre in london in 2022 at an alphatauri event, and actually asked him about the montreal photo dump thing. here is what he said (courtesy of the lovely @they-call-it-traffic 💞)

the descriptions there... you can just picture pierre's expressions & smirks SO perfectly, right? he is insane. they are insane. #investigatemontreal !!

anyways. moving on one year again: 2023 brought us pierre and charles' basketball date:

as well as two tennis dates:

(i call them "dates" because pierre and charles spent a significant time together during them, hanging out & enjoying each other's company and looking at each other with major heart-eyes. obviously, irl, they aren't officially dates - in fact, both pierre and charles had their irl girlfriends along with them when they attended wimbledon. but who cares too much about irl -- this is a rpf post 😉)

i'm not going to spend too long explaining the lore behind these, because i'm already flirting with the tumblr post character limit 🙈 but basically, what happened is that on all 3 these occasions, pierre and charles chose to hang out together at events completely unrelated to f1, simply because they are friends and like each other's company. (that, to me, is always a measure of how much f1 drivers actually like each other - whether or not they choose to spend time with each other when they're not forced into proximity by f1. pierre and charles pass this test with flying colours.)

the basketball date is particularly insane, because that day was actually an event which charles, pierre and esteban attended. but you wouldn't know THAT from charles' post about it. charles fully cropped esteban out of his post - he really said "esteban who? i only spent time with my friend pierre 😌" and he said it with his whole chest.

ALSO, while we're on the subject of the basketball date and social media - pierre and charles co-posted a reel about it on instagram. yes. CO-POSTED. you know, like a couple co-posting about their date.

piarles basketball date, you will always be famous!!

(P.S. - a lot of piarles fans refer to this 2023 basketball date as "basketball date 2.0" - and this is because pierre and charles have actually done this before, in 2021. i really can't talk too much about that date - character limit, my beloathed - but let me just say that pierre draping his arm round the back of charles' chair is something that lives rent free in my mind. rent free.)

another thing that lives in my mind rent-free is charles being interviewed at their first tennis date, and calling pierre his best friend <3333 love is friendship set on fire, etc etc!

... so, okay, when i said i wasn't going to talk too much about the lore behind the tennis & basketball dates, i lied a little bit. but in my defence - they were insane for these, they really were!

anyways. now, let's skip back in time a little - because i would be very remiss if i didn't include pierre and charles' 2016 joint championship celebrations.

in the year 2016, pierre was the GP2 champion and charles the GP3 champion (GP2 and GP3 are the old names for F2 and F3). in a very pretty twist of fate, they both clinched their respective titles at the same circuit, in the final race of their respective series - and then, of course, they celebrated together.

here is an adorable gifset of them celebrating together after the final GP2 race. and here are some more pictures from the official Prema photoshoot for the GP2 & GP3 champions (yes, they did a joint photoshoot together. even Prema ships it, apparently!)

actually, while we're on the subject of celebrating together: pierre and charles almost always congratulate each other for their significant achievements in f1. see: charles making a point to congratulate pierre on his podium in baku, as i discussed earlier in this post, and again in zandvoort 2023. (both times with a kiss emoji, mind you). similarly, check out pierre seeking charles out in parc fermé to congratulate him for his bahrain 2022 season-opener pole, and then congratulating him for his win twice over on social media. (and these are just a few examples out of many!)

this is one of those things that sets them apart from many other f1 rpf pairings: they both seem genuinely happy when the other does well. and like. they are COMPETITORS - but they're good enough friends that they can still celebrate each other's achievements genuinely and happily. that is insane!!

yes, sure, it's good sportsmanship to congratulate other drivers for wins/podiums - but that is usually done with a handshake in person or a copy-paste "congrats to XYZ" in the post-race interview, or something like that. one rarely gets the sense that it comes from a place of genuine, deep happiness for the other driver being congratulated.

pierre and charles are just on a whole different level. they specifically seek each other out in parc fermé, hug each other with so much enthusiasm that it looks suspiciously gay, and also post about each other's achievements very fondly on social media.

again, this is something you might see a driver do for their teammate - for example, charles congratulating "carlos and the team" for a win in singapore - but almost never with a freaking KISS EMOJI. and a pet name. and so much genuine joy.

just... yeah. they care about each other so much, and are each other's biggest supporters ❤️

it's not just in good times that they're there for each other, either: 2019 was a truly difficult year for both pierre and charles (pierre especially) but they were still there for each other when it mattered.

the prime example of this is monza 2019, which was one race after pierre's demotion from red bull, and also one race after anthoine hubert's death. because the fia has no sense of basic kindness or decency, naturally they put pierre into a press conference that very weekend.

the video of that press conference is very hard to watch - every time pierre is asked a question, you can hear how much he is struggling to hold it together. honestly, the sole good thing from this presscon is that at least pierre had charles beside him.

here is a post i made where i discuss this in a bit more detail, but essentially: charles sat as close as possible to pierre for the entirety of that conference - close enough that their shoulders were practically touching - as a non-verbal gesture of support. you can see the difference in space between charles & pierre vs all the other drivers, and there's no way that was accidental. charles might not have been able to voice his support for pierre out loud right then, but it's there in every part of his body language.

another very meaningful moment is also from 2019, when pierre went up to charles pre-race in spa:

"I told Charles before the race, please win this race for Anthoine." (source)

and charles did. 💙

then later in 2019, when pierre got his first podium in brazil, guess who was right there to hug and congratulate him? that's right.

this was another case where charles' own race fell apart - he had a crash with his teammate, in fact - but he still made a point of going to hug pierre after his P2, and going on social media to tell pierre and also the whole world that pierre deserved that podium. that's what i call supporting your best friend.

now, at this point, you might be thinking... well, pierre and charles have it all. whether you're looking for happy moments or deep emotional moments or suspiciously gay moments to fuel your shipping fire, it's all there.

and you'd be right! they do have it all. though i will say this - one of the complaints i've heard whispered around this fandom is that piarles is a fun ship, but they don't have any content videos together like teammates do. so it's harder to ship them, because you don't get to see them actually interact with each other aside from like 5-second video clips...

to that i say: well. they might not have any teammate videos together, but oh boy. as of 2023, they do have something else: the squeezie video.

i could talk about the squeezie video for MONTHS, i really could - but let me try and keep it brief. so, squeezie is this french youtuber who has this "who's the impostor?" video series in which he gets a couple of celebrities to join him on the show, plus some people from a certain profession, and then they have to guess who actually does that profession and who's the impostor.

the day that pierre and charles were guests on the show, the professions were "firefighter," "midwife," "flight attendant" and "school counselor." this resulted in absolute chaos of the best kind - ah, man, i cannot even begin to describe to you what a glorious mess it was. that video had everything from charles & pierre cradling fake babies, to charles & pierre extremely dramatically accusing each other of lying, to pierre making dirty hand gestures while charles blushes profusely, to charles & pierre play-acting being naughty schoolkids (feat. charles saying he fell asleep in class and woke up from a nightmare screaming "box box" 😭)

here are some screenshots of some of my favourite moments:

the way they LOOK at each other... GOD.

anyways! you can watch the video here. my recommendation is to watch it with the original french sound track - there is an english dub available, but it sounds incredibly strange to hear american accents coming out of pierre & charles' mouths, off-sync with what they're actually saying. it's a MUCH better experience to watch in french, so you can hear what they actually said, and enjoy how they interact with each other. (english subtitles are available!) alternatively, you can find some translated highlights here, courtesy of the incredible @sedicii <3333

aside from all the still-can't-believe-they-actually-did-this-on-camera content, one of the things that makes me feel the most insane is that pierre and charles both chose to appear on this video. there was no contractual PR requirement saying they both had to participate in it, like with teammate challenges - no, they did it in their free time, because they wanted to.

i mean, sure, that video was definitely good for PR for both of them, but the point stands that they didn't have to do it, and they certainly didn't have to do it together. they CHOSE to - and what's more, they said at the end of the video that they'd do it again.

that's so central to pierre and charles, i think: they choose each other, time and time again. they freely choose to spend time with each other, because they genuinely like each other and enjoy each other's company. so much so that you will find them together at least once on almost every race weekend.

no, seriously. it's a very unusual race weekend if pierre and charles aren't spotted together at least one time. whether it's being glued to each other's sides on driver's parades, or chatting in the background of some or other interview, or just walking through the paddock together... they will find each other.

there are SO many instances where this happens that i would be here for over a month if i tried to list them all - and i'd still probably miss some. but here are some of my personal highlights!

pierre and charles finding each other pre-race in jeddah

pierre and charles chatting in the media pen in the background of one of alex's interviews

pierre and charles walking together in vegas (feat. fond smiles)

pierre and charles being baby gossip girls in 2018

more baby piarles in 2018

even more baby pierre and charles chatting in 2017

and just to round things off: most recently, pierre and charles walking together in jeddah 2024

and many, many more... including a whole bunch of moments we'll probably never know about.

that's another thing that makes me more than a little insane about these two: pierre has actually said, in so many words, that they'll never share everything about their friendship.

In the end we have the same life, we grew up together. We've done many things together, but you won't hear about all of it. (source)

all these moments that we see, that we go insane over... that's probably not even the half of what they've actually done together. and that makes me feel some type of way. if this is just the small pieces of their lives & interactions that they choose to share with the public, then just imagine what else there could be...

....buuuuut that'll start becoming a fanfic if i let myself carry on with that line of thinking too long. (can i just say one thing about that, though? the piarles fanfic community is absolutely INCREDIBLE. such talented writers, such wonderful people... just, chef's kiss all around!!) but, yeah! i think this post has gone on for more than long enough now, haha.

so, to conclude: pierre and charles really are the epitome of a friends to lovers ship: they get along famously, they genuinely seem to love each other's company and are always laughing together - and they can very often be found giving each other the heart-eyes/looking at each other like they're in love. if it's warmth, joy and friends to lovers feels that you're after, then look no further <3333

thank you so much for reading! and i do hope that after all this, you're at least a little bit in love with piarles, too ❤️

[blog-moved-lol]

Dick Grayson Canon Lore Stuff:

(TW for Batman stuff, like spoilers and mention of injury/death) Hello, I know very little about the canon Batfamily because I can't exactly just read all of the comics (there's way too many, and they're very expensive T-T) so instead I spent like an hour reading the entire Fandom . com entry on Dick Grayson, and this is pretty much my timeline of important events that I got from that (I'm typing this in hopes that it'll help me remember it).

Dick Grayson Canon Lore Stuff:

•From a very young age Dick Grayson was trained as an acrobat, hence his job as a performer in his family's circus act.

•When he was eight years old, he overheard a well known crime boss threaten the circus performers if he wasn't paid by the circus owner. The owner didn't pay him, and that night Dick witnessed his parents high wire snap, leading to both of their deaths. (He felt responsible for not warning them)

•He was put into a juvenile service system, because social services in Gotham were full. In this system he was often beat up by the others, which led to him eventually being put into a Catholic orphanage instead.

•Bruce Wayne adopted him, but Dick didn't want to replace his deceased dad with a 'stuck up' billionaire, plus he felt like Bruce didn't give him enough attention (Probably because Bruce was still dealing with the trauma of his own parents death and didn't like getting attached to people in case he lost them as well), so he snuck out in hopes of solving his parents murder himself.

•He met Batman, also investigating the murder, which led to him finding out that Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same person.

•They find the crime boss, but he 'dies of a heart attack' before he can be arrested.

•Since Bruce saw so much of himself in Dick, he asked the boy if he wanted to become his sidekick and Dick decided to name himself 'Robin' after what his mother used to call him.

•He was trained for six long, hard months before he was allowed to do any real missions, and he had to go through one full night eluding Batman without help before he was allowed to officially become Robin.

•For the first year or so Dick had a lot of fun with his job, and treated it as a fun adventure he and Bruce participated in together.

•That was until he had a fight with Two-Face, in which Batman and the DA were both stuck in nooses. Dick cut the rope around the DA with a Batarang, but Two-Face had crafted a double trap and this made the floor fall out so the DA landed in a pit of water in which he drowned. This was Dick's first time witnessing an on-the-job death which would serve to haunt him for years to come, plus he got himself a beating from Two-Face (Okay but like, wouldn't he have been like 9 or 10 max Jeezums- 😭🖐).

•Bruce temporarily 'fired' Dick, not wanting to see him get hurt any more.

•Dick served as Robin for a while longer, still working with Bruce and also forming his own Titans team.

•When Dick was 17 he got shot in his shoulder by the Joker, which prompted Bruce to officially fire him out of fear for his safety. Dick decided that he didn't need Batman anymore, plus he had some issues with the way Bruce did things, so he moved from Gotham to New York to be more involved with the Titans, and he dropped out of highschool.

•Bruce didn't really like this, and told Dick that if he was no longer going to work with him he would have to retire the Robin title. Dick left Wayne Manor afterwards, and handed over leadership of the Titans to Wondergirl.

•Unsure of himself and what he should do now, yet not wanting to give up crime fighting now that it was such a big part of his life, he went to find Superman. For a brief while Dick stayed with Superman, and Superman told him of a Krypton hero who had been known as Nightwing. Because of this time with Clark, Dick decided to finally become his own hero free of Batman. He named himself Nightwing after the Krypton hero, and made himself a costume based off of something his father once wore back in the circus.

•Now as Nightwing he helped lead the Titans, though his relationship with Starfire was worsening over time.

•Jason's death was a bit of a turning point in his character. Even though originally he hadn't seemed to like Jason (mainly because Jason acted as his replacement, and because of his not so great relationship with Bruce) Dick seemed to grow into a kinder/gentler person after the event.

•A while after this, Dick discovered that the mob boss who had killed his parents was not actually dead but was in a coma instead. Dick went looking for him, but witnessed him being gunned down before he had a chance to do anything for himself. Bruce claimed that he was worried that Dick would seek revenge for his parents death if he knew the truth, so he told the young boy that the mod boss was dead instead. Dick was obviously upset because of this, and his relationship with Bruce stayed strained.

•While he was still serving with the Titans, Tim Drake sought him out and asked him to return to being Robin (Because after Jason's death Bruce was going crazy without a Robin by his side), but Dick refused because of his bad relationship with Bruce and his enjoyment for his current job. He did help Tim become Robin, though.

•A lot of bad things happened with the Titans, people passed, people left, people changed, but Dick fought to stay the heart and center of the team through it all.

•Despite their strained relationship, Dick tried to impulsively marry Starfire, but the ceremony was interrupted, which eventually led to Starfire leaving and returning to her home planet.

•Bruce was brutally injured by Bane, but because his relationship with Dick was so bad and he didn't want to 'force' his son to return, he temporarily gave the Batman title to the not-so-stable Jean Paul Valley, with Tim there to help him out. Jean proved too unstable, however, and Dick returned to Gotham to help Tim deal with him. Dick decided to step away from the Titans to focus on Gotham, and the still healing Bruce asked him to be Batman until he was alright again which Dick agreed to.

•During his time acting as Batman, Dick built a great brotherly relationship with Tim. In addition, Bruce admitted that he hadn't originally asked Dick to act as Batman for him because he didn't want to force him to come back, and the two finally began to fix their relationship.

•Dick pretends to be a villain working under Deathstroke for a while, until Deathstroke betrays him and kills at least 100,000 people with a bomb. Dick tries to find and help any survivors, but is unable to because of the radiation which weighs heavily on his mind. He also proposes to Barbara Gordon around this time.

•Dick recovers and Bruce asks him to join him and his current Robin in rediscovering his roots. Dick is hesitant, but Barbara insists that he helps, and suspends their engagement for the time being.

•Dick returns to the Titan's tower, because there's someone there pretending to be him. Turns out it's the revived Jason Todd!

•While on a case, he gets buried alive by a mysterious voice that tells him he's 'supposed to be dead'. He has a hard time finding work because he's in a cast, and is having some trouble due to his injuries.

•By this point his relationship with both Bruce and Tim have improved dramatically, and he's close with both of them.

•The Titans decide to reform their group.

•Okay I'm gonna try and put this as simply as possible… Bruce was targeted by a group called 'Black Glove', supposedly going insane and running away. Dick doesn't want Tim to have to deal with everything himself, so he returns. He gets kidnapped and drugged by the International Club of Villains and is scheduled for a lobotomy, but gets out of it because Bruce's 'insanity' was made up to expose the Black Glove. Batman fights with Doctor Hurt on a helicopter, but the helicopter explodes. Batman is fine and works with the Justice League, but then is seemingly killed in his confrontation with Darkseid. In his will, Bruce begs Dick not to become Batman. Because of his refusal to become Batman, someone else takes up the job instead, calling himself Batman but using lethal methods that Bruce would never allow. This 'Batman' is actually Jason Todd, who shoots Damian and almost kills Tim with a Batarang. Dick and Jason fight and Dick shoves Jason off of a speeding train, seemingly killing him though Jason says they'll 'Meet again soon'. Dick finally decides to become the official Batman, but refuses to make Tim his Robin because according to him, he sees Tim as his equal and not his sidekick. He instead makes Damian his new Robin, which of course pisses off Tim. Tim, believing Bruce to be alive, takes up Jason's old Red Robin mantle and goes searching for Bruce. Dick moves base because the Batcave reminds him too much of Bruce, and struggles because Damian is constantly reminding and taunting him over the fact that he will never truly be able to replace his father. When he next fights Jason, Jason remarks that if the Lazarus pit could revive him, it could revive Bruce too as he's being arrested.

There's quite a bit of stuff that happens in between here, most notably the death of a young boy called Baby D which influences Dick's future character, but since I've been typing for hours:

Thinking about what Jason said, Dick takes Bruce's body from his grave and takes him to the Lazarus Pit. While it does reanimate the corpse, the revived 'Bruce' is angry and violent. This is because it was never Bruce at all, it was actually a clone of him. This gives Dick, Damian, and Alfred a similar hope to Tim, that Bruce is actually still alive. Tim brings evidence that Bruce is actually lost in time, and after a bit of digging and more evidence finding, they manage to bring Bruce back.

•Dick finally becomes Nightwing again, now with red on his costume which reflects his darker and more grim outlook on life and humanity after his time as Batman.

•Nightwing gets stabbed on a mission.

•He also, on a different mission, momentarily dies but they manage to start his heart again.

•Dick puts down his Nightwing title for a while and becomes a secret agent for Bruce, but the wiki has no info on this.

•Dick goes back to being Nightwing, finally returning to his original black and blue suit instead of the black and red one. He reforms the titans, but after working with them for a bit, but ends up moving back to Blüdhaven soon after.

•Someone is sent to assassinate Dick, and he gets shot in the head. He manages to survive, though he has amnesia and for a brief while becomes 'Ric Grayson' until he gets his memories back. When Ric tries to restore his memories he is kidnapped by the Joker who brainwashes him into believing that he was the Joker's sidekick, though he's eventually rescued and gets his memories back. After this event, he officially rejoins the Batman Family as Nightwing.

•There's no info after this.

Extra fact: While not mentioned in the fandom wiki, Dick Grayson was r[😬]ed by a female villain named Tarantula. (As in yes, he has a nice ass, but he would canonically be very uncomfortable with how some parts of the fandom oversexualize him.)

[rooniper]

The inevitable Ralph Lore Masterpost

Here it comes. After my second re-read and a week of talking about this fictional cringefail tragic girl dad to anyone who would listen, here it finally is, because I felt a need to write all of this down for future reference and also because I am very close to exploding at any given second of the day.

Also: do keep in mind some of this is my personal speculation/theories/ramblings and probably not canon, but I did try to stick to just the book as much as possible. This is not a coherent essay. Really, it’s a word vomit because I can’t stop thinking about the funny Phone Man. I still probably missed some things, feel free to chime in in the replies, might make a Part 2 unpacking some of the lore/non-Ralph related bits in the future who knows.

Anyways, in no particular order (AND OBVIOUSLY; SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT):

Pre-Freddy’s Era Details I Couldn’t Fit Anywhere Else (Or: Upbringing, College and some Coppelia’s Mom Speculation)

There’s not much info about Ralph’s childhood from what I could gather, except two things: he was bullied in school to the point where he had to hide in a locked bathroom stall to get away from his classmates, and his father was a major a-hole who had extremely high expectations for him and also used to scare him out of wanting to play hide-and-seek with him which. Goddamn. The quote “all your life you’ve gotten used to not pushing buttons” really, really doesn’t help the horrible parents allegations. So yeah the man has daddy issues, jot that down.

Expanding on the previous point: a lot of his parenting of Coppelia seems to be directly influenced by his own upbringing. The paragraph-long tangent about how he’s purposefully awful at hide-and-seek because he never wants Pel to feel as scared as he did is an obvious example, but he also brings her gifts from work pretty much constantly (and sidenote: he thinks of taking things from his job that he never breaks the rules at to bring to her all the goddamn time, while being actively hunted by murderous animatronics. That’s so goddamn wholesome I’m sorry even when he’s scared out of his mind he’s constantly thinking of her). He never puts her down the way it’s implied he was put down as a child, he seems really supportive of her hobbies by the way he talks about her reading. I have more to say about his parenting skills, but the fact that he’s terrified of becoming like his own father/parents seems to be a giant part of them.

He’s a college dropout who majored in psychology, aiming to specialize in child psychology, which makes so much sense but also I find incredibly ironic considering he later exhibits very VERY obvious signs of what’s probably PTSD and doesn’t clock it at all. But that is also going to be its separate point, put a pin in that.

It’s not just implied, but pretty explicitly stated by Ralph himself that he’s a massive overachiever. He was probably pretty academically successful in college, considering he mentions it was a surprise to most people that he’d drop out to get into security work. It’s pretty strongly implied this was mostly because he was pressured into succeeding by his parents. My man has that helicopter parents burnout syndrome, and escaped it by going into a job where he could still interact with kids like he wanted to as a psychologist but actually be happy, and that means a lot to me actually.

(Very important sidenote, because I don’t know where else to put this: the fact that his real dream job is to make children’s toys is just so real to me, especially as someone who’s also experienced academic burnout. It makes so much sense for him to want to do something with his hands where he can create something tangible after being pushed into being traditionally ‘successful’ in academia by his environment. Also put a pin in this as well because I have another point to make about the whole toymaker thing)

He seems to be at least low-contact with his family, which is understandable from what we know about his father - I’d say it’s likely he even cut contact completely after dropping out of college. The fact that he never mentions his parents as a possibility when he talks about babysitting options, or the fact that he doesn’t even consider them taking care of Coppelia when he is literally about to die seems pretty telling to me. I mean, alternatively, they could both be dead, depending on how old Ralph is, but since Coppelia’s only eleven that seems a bit unlikely.

Coppelia’s mom is a mystery. There is exactly one mention of her in this entire book and it doesn’t come from Ralph, but from Pel, so we know she does in fact exist but that’s about it. When Ralph talks about parenting Coppelia he never mentions her mom, even as far back as when Coppelia was one year old. They probably divorced when Coppelia was really young, and Ralph likely has full custody, since he never mentions Coppelia going to her mother’s for the weekend or anything like that. And that’s all we know.

Freddy’s and Related Tidbits (Or: I Stuffed Everything Related to his Relationship to Fazbear Entertainment in this Section)

He’s worked at Freddy’s for at least eleven years, because he mentions Coppelia being a month old when he already had the job and recorded his first training tape. If FNAF 1 indeed takes place in 1993, that means he was already working at Freddy’s by 1982 and likely earlier. Which, side-tangent, would imply that either Fredbear’s Family Diner was removed enough from Fazbear Entertainment by then for him not to know anything beyond the vague existence about the bite of ‘83, or that FNAF 1 takes place after 1993. But at this point the timeline is confusing enough that who knows.

He’s never moved up to management despite being there for more than a decade, also doesn’t appear to know Henry or William (especially if you believe the whole Dave-is-probably-William theory).

He was employee of the month 22 times. He also likely competed against his murderer ex-boss in disguise for the longest employee of the month award streak which is the best goddamn thing I’ve ever heard.

He’s written some of the rules at Freddy’s. Because of course he has.

He leaves passive-agressive notes to the dayshift guard and also thinks about shoving a ballpoint pen in the cleaning staff’s faces. And also talks about reporting people for slacking off. What I’m trying to say that he’s probably not the most popular of people with the rest of the staff, and doesn’t appear to realize why that could possibly be. Worst enemy of folks who don’t want to take their shitty minimum wage job extremely seriously.

On a related note, he takes his job so seriously oh my god. He does like twenty other jobs each night while the animatronics are trying to kill him. He’s probably the only person still doing reports. Management is very much implied to never read them. He writes them anyway. The fact that he was genuinely called ‘the Phone Guy’ and also was in training videos is also amazing (and also pushes the Trans Phone Guy agenda for anyone who considers Kim from the FNAF movie to be a stand-in for him).

This is specifically night-shift related: While it’s true that his survival instincts are absolutely shot, he is, when pushed, demonstrated to be capable of extreme violence against animatronics, which actually good for him. He kicks Bonnie’s head off. He beats Chica to death with a mop. He shoots Foxy with a watergun and also throws a lightbulb at him. This is not particularly important to anything but it’s extremely important to me.

Anyways, he’s really, really loyal to this company. Like, too loyal. Like, he was very much responsible and instrumental in shutting down rumors and speculation among staff after the bite of ‘87 and likely after the MCI as well too loyal. He’s management’s mouthpiece for their dirty work and that makes me feel a certain way because it’s so obvious he cares a lot about this shitty kids’ restaurant, enough that he’d defend it at all cost even when there’s so much evidence against it. This will come up again when I talk about him gaslighting himself.

This is mostly me speculating on the previous point, but I’m pretty certain a lot of his defending of the company is also a coping mechanism that he uses to grapple with the trauma brought to him by the fact that he’s spent a huge chunk of his life working for a conglomerate that’s gotten people killed. He genuinely insinuates Jeremy was responsible for getting chomped, because he must’ve done something wrong, the animatronics would never attack anyone without reason (right?). When he talks about how the media blew children going missing out of proportion, it seems less like he believes it and more like he doesn’t want to believe it - especially considering he’s only brought Coppelia to Freddy’s once in her life. He never lets her near it. He shuts her down immediately when she talks about working at it. Which, at least to me, demonstrates that on a subconscious level, he knows what he’s saying isn’t true. It’s just easier to say it than face the facts.

And lastly, he’s so clearly and passionately loyal to the Fazbear’s franchize. This fucker genuinely loves working here and is sad to go, even though management treats him like shit. We already knew that, but still, dear god those people could not care less if he lived or died and he STILL takes his night guard duties so goddamn seriously. He’s so clearly really invested in it, he talks about what a magical place Freddy’s used to be for kids, he talks about how much the job means to him, all the while it’s actively trying to kill him, he defends it to the point that it’s actively ridiculous, and in multiple endings he still gets blackmailed, disappeared or worse by the people he’s defending. And- I don’t know. It just makes me really sad. Again, I do believe his over-the-top enthusiasm for his job is probably him compensating for the fact that he doesn’t want to face the incredibly traumatic stuff happening to him, especially because as the week goes on, he gets less and less enthusiastic with every night, and just- Yeah. Fazbear Entertainment doesn’t deserve him.

Characterization, Diction and Things Like That (Or: Everything Else)

Let’s get the more positive stuff in this section out of the way first: we already knew this from the phone calls, but the way this man talks just sends me. “Time to make the donuts” when walking into a shift my favorite of his Phone-Guy-isms, but also unironically saying “oh boy!” and “what rotten luck!” right when you’re about to die is equally important to me.

Kind of related but not really: this man truly is a dad through and through because MY GOD the amount of bad puns and/or stupid references he makes is criminal. The fact that they get him actually killed in some of the endings because he keeps laughing at his own terrible jokes is also great. My favorite examples include thinking “my, what large ears you have” immediately before Foxy mauls him, the Irony Curtain, the how many night watchmen does it take to change a lightbulb, and so on. The fact that he also finds all of this absolutely hilarious means so much to me. Ralph truly is a cringefail girl dad, RIP to him he would’ve loved those awful shirts with puns that were popular with dads going to Disneyland in the 2000s.

Not gonna lie, and I’m not sure if this is just me reading too much into it, but he also reads as at least slightly neurodivergent to me. And I am ready to die on that hill. He doesn’t really seem to be the best at social interaction or with figuring people out, from the way he talks about not being able to tell if his coworkers are only laughing at his jokes to be polite or not and how he doesn’t seem to understand why they would be upset with him shoving minimal errors in their faces. He notices a single hat out of place in one of the Party Rooms and immediately goes to correct it. He makes a point about how much he hates messes and the whole “you need order, you crave order in your life” quote resonated so deeply with me that it’s uncanny. He’s a “stickler for rules”. The fact that he worked at one place for eleven plus years also makes me think he’s probably not the best with change. I could go on. I don’t know, I wouldn’t be able to tell you why, but I just can’t see him as fully neurotypical.

He’s also just a really curious dude, to the point of his curiosity overriding his survival instincts. Which is a horror protagonist trope if I’ve ever seen one. The scene where he lifts up a strange robot cupcake he just found directly to his face with zero hesitation is just. Yeah.

He loves Foxy, which we already knew, but also the fact that he explicitly states that he’s still scared of him and Pirate Cove by association makes me kinda sad. Also, related point, he’s a self-proclaimed fan of pirate stories, so I’m pretty sure that’s where Coppelia gets her taste in books from, but that’s besides the point.

In general, he just really loves the animatronics, too? Like he waves at them after his shift. Like I already mentioned, he talks about how much they mean to him, and how much he loves the fact that they brought joy to kids. It’s kinda sweet.

The most questionable thing about him is the way he. Uh. Talks about guns/cops in a way that kind of makes me remember he was raised in Utah around the 1960s. There are a few specific passages that make me extremely concerned about what his opinion on the second amendment is. But that is luckily left unspoken so I’ll be moving along.

The job stresses him out so much he consumes a packet of raw poptarts because he’s so hungry by the end of it. Which, while iconic, is also very deeply concerning. Which brings me to my biggest point

My god this man has Trauma. So much Trauma. He represses so much. The entirety of the beginning of Night 3 is just him describing that he forgets details about his shifts as soon as he leaves them. He gaslights himself constantly that nothing bad is happening (after Night 1, for example, he calls the entire shift the night before a bad dream and convinces himself he’s just “misinterpreting” events, which is goddamn concerning), but he’s also actively wasting away despite telling himself he’s not (my man looks into the mirror and his only and first comment is that he looks terrible). Not to mention the dissociation. He spaces out when he comes home on two seperate occassions, and loses and entire hour each time without realizing it. God I hope in the endings where he survives he eventually gets therapy.

Coppelia and Life Outside of Work (Or: This Section is Concerningly Short)

This man loves his daughter so goddamn much. So, so much.

No but seriously the interactions between him and Coppelia are so pure and well written and they were my favorite part of the book, somehow, even though I wasn’t originally sold on the concept. The “with what?” “excellent point, I’ve got nothing” kills me still. The scene where Coppelia curls up next to him after he comes home from his shift makes me want to sob. He makes her pancakes and they banter and she test limits but it’s obvious she also loves her dad, and that is- AAAAAA

Back to my bullshit, though: Ralph does kinda read as the type of parent who’d spoil a kid rotten if given the opportunity to do so. At some point Coppelia directly says that he “gets her everything she wants”, and- yeah. This is similar to the point I made previously about him bringing her gifts all the time. She does seem like a good kid, though. He’s just a girl dad to the extent that he’d probably wear a shirt with girl dad written on it, you know?

He’s also really protective of her. And worries. A lot. Not just when he calls home or rushes home to check on her, but also when he talks about being a security guard at her school and whenever he forbids her from ever ever going near Freddy’s. Say what you will about him defending a company to a possibly unethical extent, but he’s not about to endanger his daugher over it, and I respect that.

The only concering thing about him and Coppelia is the fact that Coppelia apparently drew herself stabbing him when she was little. Which is. Well. Not ideal. The fact that he finds this completely normal is very in character, though.

On Coppelia by herself, though: the fact that she ‘tinkers with stuff in the basement’ concerns me. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if after the canon ending, she ends up to be a technician at Freddy’s at some point. Also, the fact that she’s a gamer warms my heart.

Now, on other outside-work activities: I love the implication that my man not only bowls and always pays for dinner, but that he bowls and pays for dinner while dining with his serial killer ex-boss. God, that’s awesome, I love that so much.

Tying back to a point I made previously and also to a point I saw some people make that I really, really resonated with: there are actually a lot of parallels between Henry/William and Ralph, especially concering parenting. I don’t think the fact that his dream to be a toymaker is accidental, either, or the fact that he goes out of his way to point out that he wants to make toys that aren’t at all mechanical. Because even though he’s also a dad trying to make his kid happy with his creations, unlike William and/or Henry, he doesn’t want to make anything bigger than himself, or anything innovative; just wants to make simple things and make a kid’s day better. I don’t know man keeps me up at night, you know?

And, because this is only important to me: he owns a Kit-Cat Clock. This is somehow the most fitting thing I could’ve read about his taste in home decor.

And because I don’t know how else to end this: that’s a wrap! Was this book perfect? Hell no. The Bronwen plotline makes my brain hurt. But was it incredibly fun? Oh hell yes. And now I have a reference point for any future writings I do where Ralph is an active character, so that’s a major bonus. I have many thoughts but not enough time to put all of them down so I’m stopping here, major thanks to @graceandtheidiotsquad for pushing me over the edge and making me actually finish this with a reply lmao. And that’s all! Phone Man please get out of my head now before I go insane.

[grimmcheems]

Yakuza Hinami AU🌸

This has been brewing in my head as an idea for like years lmao😭. Idk but I always thought it’d be kinda cool if Hinami’s father was also an important figure in the underground of ghoul society aside from being a doctor bc Jason fr tore him up and Mado was on his ass too. That mixed with the fact that Hinami does become involved with ghoul society later on in canon made me love her even more.

They have her father’s kagune up on display as decor, she obtained it at some point and Akira is pissed about it(though she does not know it is being used this way), newer members don’t know why it’s there and think better than to ask directly, so the older members just got used to referring it as “Daddy”😬

I rly need to start providing the initial context to my ideas bc there’s so much that goes on in my head for my AU lores before I draw a particular setting of it and which characters I choose to include. Hinami is basically a selective mute in the beginning of this after her father is killed by Mado and her and her mother form a close relationship with a ghoul investigator (Nakajima, but before they figure out that Ryouko is one of heir suspects but after his partner is killed by Touka) Later on Hinami is on the run and living in disguise with Touka until her parents followers find her and try to raise her to be the next leader of the group.

The yakuza group is named “The Winds , which is sort of a play on how her parents were inspired by it when naming her, and sort of used as a one liner by elite group members and those who manage to escape the hands of the Doves by saying “it must’ve been the wind”(or something similar to that phrase, it it also how the Doves speak about them in public settings as to not cause alarm and used to brush off any inconveniences they experience from the group itself).

Uta is the spokesperson of The Clowns and they often butt heads with Hinami over territorial disputes and whatnot, so his visits are frequent and he is rather surprised when he sees her for the first time again when she’s older and sees just how far and high up she managed to climb in ghoul society. He mostly teases her and Yomo does not appreciate it. Yomo joined her group at some point because he wanted to maintain ties with Ayato, and he does reveal himself to be his and Touka’s uncle and last living relative (it always bothered me that he never said anything to either of them about that in canon but at least he treasures his niece)

I also gave Uta a lot of color, he was gonna be paler but I thought more color to his face would suit him. He also has a soft expression bc his eyes are closed.

Banjou sort of takes care of the more visual side of things when it comes to Hinami(he does her hair but who does her nails?!?), I love how they have a bond in canon but in this he’s mainly like a big brother and he is always concerned with the way she is presented to others because she’s their leader.

She practically becomes like a legend and spoken of like a myth by the CCG and has a SS(-) rating. They’ve never seen her in combat and only have her combat with Mado on her file record so they base it off that, and she never really has to step in because other people take care of things for her. However being the head of the group they gave her a high rating as well as factoring in her chimera type kagune she’s sure to deal a lot of damage to anyone who’d cross her path. A lot of the wierdo investigators dream of having parts of her like a trophy someday, hence the dialogue of an investigator wishing he could see her kagune up close and in action someday.

[onebrainsel]

The Culling

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Child death, suc*dal ideation, suc*de attempt, domestic abuse (not from Aegon), suggestive content, terrible parenting from several parties. No use of Y/N.

Summary: A Prince and a Lady learn they have much in common, becoming inseparable when they realize the other might just be their reason to keep going. A story about two broken people healing themselves by healing one another.

Word Count: 14.3K

Chapters: One, two, three.

Author's Notes: I spent a ridiculous amount of time looking at Westerosi maps and hunting for lore because I wanted to make this feel somewhat plausible. I also wanted to add some politics to this, but how good of a job I did is highly debatable. Lastly, for this chapter specifically, do heed the warnings above. It's a rough one.

AO3

Chapter II: The Kettle Is Wheeling, My Love

Morning came in the blink of an eye. Aegon was fairly certain he had slept just before the sun had risen, and woken just a little ways afterwards. He couldn’t sleep the night before, consumed by his mother’s words. And determined to prove her wrong. So he spent his hours devising a plan. It wasn’t something he was adept in, he knew that much. But for once he felt entirely unwilling to back down without putting up a fight. He wouldn’t just bend over at his mother’s whim. Not this time. Not when he had a real reason to stand up against her. Though he wished he didn’t have to do so. He wished his mother would choose him, just once. Unfortunately for him, he knew it was not to be.

And that’s how he found himself in the most unlikely of places for the first part of his plan: Rhaenyra’s chambers.

They had never been close. His half-sister felt more like a stranger in his home than family. He could never recall her looking at him as anything but an inconvenience at worst, or indifference at best. Ironically, he recognized the same look coming from his own mother too. But he wasn’t going to dwell on that then. He was focused on one thing, and one thing only. And for that, he was willing to put aside any misgivings he had towards Rhaenyra.

He stood by her door has her guards announced his arrival, and part of him expected her to refuse him. He is surprised that she doesn’t; her guard pushed the door open for him, and shut it on his back once he entered. When his eyes found her, sat comfortably on her couch, part of his resolve crumbled. The firm stare of her violet eyes had him rooted to the spot, he couldn’t even find it in him to turn tail and run. So he swallowed and pushed on.

“Princess.” He greeted her, his voice tense, slightly unsure of how to address her. She was his sister, but he never called her that. Because his mother never did. It was always ‘Rhaenyra’. Never ‘your sister’, not like Helaena. No. Rhaenyra was something else. And her name felt too intimate, as if he should not speak it. He chose her title, but even that felt wrong, too formal. In truth, he knew that not just her name was wrong, but the entire situation itself.

“Aegon!” She spoke, surprised. Her brows drawn in a frown. It was no secret that she was estranged from her half-brother. They never saw one another outside of her father’s attempts at family gatherings, and only spoke to him in public when strictly necessary. To have him alone in her chambers was aching to the stories people told of being visited by elusive entities.

“What brings you here, boy? I must say, I thought I misheard the guard at first.” She asked with a slight tilt to her head she adjusted herself on her seat. Her hand caressed her belly tenderly, her third child due any day.

Aegon fidgeted slightly where he stood, his nerves getting the better of him for a moment. But he quickly schooled his expression, drawing a deep breath.

“I... wanted to talk to you about something.” He replied, eyes locking with hers. “It’s rather important.”

“Take a seat, then.” She motioned to the chairs in front of her sofa. A curious expression on her face.

Aegon did so, and he was glad to be seated, if only because it gave him something to do with his hands has he gripped the armrest tightly. Still, he was unsure how to proceed. Saying the wrong thing might just ruin his already slim chances. He glanced at her for a moment, eyes studying her face. He had never thought so thoroughly about his words as he did then.

“We’ve never really been close, have we?” He asked quietly, instead of going directly for what he was actually there for.

Rhaenyra could not help but notice a hint of melancholy in his voice. “No, we have not.” She agreed, entirely too curious as to why the boy was there. She wondered if The Greens were setting him up to something. Her latest pregnancy neared its end, and there was a tension permeating the Keep. Everyone waiting with baited breath to see if this one would look any closer to her or Laenor.

Aegon felt the tension building within him, around him; his nerves and his uncertainty making it difficult to find the words he needed to say, try as he might, he wasn’t particularly gifted in the art of diplomacy. Never had the patience for it. And he thought that much like his dance lessons, he should’ve paid more attention to what people had attempted to teach him. He looked away, his gaze fixing on the floor has he gathered his thoughts again. Then, finally, he raised his head to meet Rhaenyra’s eyes once more.

“I... I need your help.” He said quietly, voice laced with a mixture of anxiousness and hope.

The boy’s eyes — so much like Alicent’s that it made her heart sting — were so vulnerable. Hopeful. Pleading.

“With what?” She inquired.

Aegon’s heart thumped in his chest, her stare made him want to shrink into himself, but they were not cold. Not this time. They were… curious. Cautious. He took a deep breath, his fingers twisting in his lap.

“It’s about a girl.” He confessed quietly and quickly, his cheeks tinted a faint pink. He hated how that sounded. He must be making a horrible impression, but he needed to see this through the end. And had to at least try and make it work.

“Well, your mother could help you with that? Why come to me?” Her brows furrowed, confused about his intentions. Ones she was still to parse if they were truly his, or some plot against her.

Aegon let out a frustrated huff, shaking his head slightly.

“Not like that.” He clarified, embarrassment clear in his voice.

“Then what is it like?”

He looked at his sister, his voice firm. As firm as he could sound with how anxious he was. “I want to court her, Princess. I want to make her my wife. And I need your help to convince father. And the council. I need your support.” He spoke, finally laying his plan out loud. His reason for coming to the one person be never thought he would.

That was not anywhere near what she might’ve expected him to be there for. The boy looked nervous, but so determined she almost didn’t recognize him. But then again, she did not truly know him, did she? She ought to know more, this such a fascinating situation to find herself in.

“And who is this Lady that has stolen your heart?”

Aegon’s cheeks flushed a bit more at the question, and he looked away for a moment.

“Lady Gaunt.” He answered. And the mere mention of her brought him ease. Speaking her name reminded him why he was there, and why he had to do this right.

“Ah, her. Lady Esme’s eldest. She is indeed a special one.” She said. She had met the girl a few times during her stay. Rhaenyra liked the fire she saw he her eyes. And her attitude. If anything, she could see why Aegon would take an interest in her. “I see why you need help.”

“Do you think father would agree to my proposal? And what of the council? You know them better than I do.”

“You speak as though I’ve agreed to help you.” She said and he recoiled in his seat.

“I merely wanted to ask-” He began almost frantically, but she rose a hand to silence him.

“I haven’t refused you either.” She clarified, and she saw the exasperated look on his face. “I think it is possible to get what you’re looking for.” She told him. She wanted to see where this could lead. It seemed to her, that Aegon was here of his own volition. She couldn’t see an angle for the Hightowers in this. If she was reading the situation correctly, it would seem Aegon was here because Alicent was not going to help him. She saw no reason other than a refusal from his side of the family to have him running to her.

Aegon leaned forward, eyes bright with expectation. “You truly believe that?” He asked.

Rhaenyra nodded. “Father once granted me leave to pick whichever lord I wanted for myself. He said he wished for my happiness within the constraints of duty.” She explained to him. “I believe that if reminded of such, he'd have no reason to deny it.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

“The council is the one that you have to concern yourself with the most. You’d be marrying way below your station, her house is small. There’s naught to be immediately gained from marrying the Gaunts, and the council members will pushback against it.” She emphasized.

“Your mother and the council are planning to wed you to our sister. A symbol of Targaryen might that is hard to deny.” Rhaenyra said, but left out that she knew the Hightowers wanted to do so because it strengthened their own house, and weakened her own claim, because Aegon and Helaena would have the pure-looking Valyrian children she did not have. And that led her to believe that supporting Aegon in this, would actually benefit her personally. His marriage would not be a particularly strong one politically. And by doing this she might just be ensuring his loyalty to her. Or at the very least a debt to be paid. He was, by birth, her biggest threat. Removing him from the Hightower board would have them scrambling for their spares. Perhaps indulging him and his young love would be the upper hand she needed.

“But,” She started, “the benefits of marrying other houses are not to be ignored.” She thought out loud, so he could follow her. “Her house might be small, but having an alliance with them directly might yet be fruitful. Their lands are situated near the river, are they not?”

Aegon eagerly nodded. He spent the night pouring over everything he could find on House Gaunt and the surrounding area, anything he could use. And their location was something he took note of. “They are just south of Saltpans. Before Maidenpool. As far as I know they do not have direct ownership over any river areas, but they are close enough.” He told her. Hoping that showing her he had information on the matter, that she’d see more value in him. That she’d see that he wasn’t just begging for favors while being useless.

She looked to the distance, thinking on what could be done with that. “Well, not yet, but nothing an expansion with the aid of the crown couldn’t change. It would mean we’d have easy access to the Trident, should we ever need it.”

Aegon nodded along.

“There’s room here to convince the council of the usefulness of such a match in the long run. And even if they do not see it, father has the last say in it. Convince him; and you’ll likely get what you want.”

Aegon listened intently to his sister’s words, his heart swelling with hope. The way she described it, it wasn’t far from what he had thought during the night. He needed a strong argument, and she seemed to think he had it.

“So, there’s a chance?” He asked quietly, his eyes fixed on hers.

“I believe so.” She nodded with a reassuring smile. She wasn’t terribly fond of him. She never had any reason to be. But he looked young and in love, and there was a undeniable innocence to it all that she found endearing. Maybe she found herself thinking if it was one of her boys asking her for help to be with their beloveds, and how she’d have a hard time denying them.

Aegon let out a sigh of relief, but he still needed to be sure. To hear her say it. “You’ve given me advice. And I’m thankful for it.” He started. “But would you back me? Help convince father, and the council?” He wished she would. He wasn’t part of the council, his father spared him little attention, his mother saw no value in his feelings. He needed Rhaenyra. Her power and her sway.

She thought briefly of how to answer is plea. “I could.” She said, letting the affirmation trail off. “But what would be in it for me?” She held his gaze.

Rhaenyra was testing him, because she knew she intended to back him regardless. She wanted to see if he had more to give, and this was a perfect chance to learn just how useful he could actually be to her.

Aegon was displeased, of course there had to be a but. Of course no one would ever do anything without expecting anything in return. And he is reminded exactly why he wasn’t fond of Rhaenyra.

“I would be forever grateful.” He said. The implication that he owed her something for her to collect when it suited her was left unsaid. Rhaenyra looked almost disappointed; then, he said something more.

“And, if I’m betrothed to Lady Gaunt, Helaena is free to marry someone else.” That immediately caught Rhaenyra’s attention. “Jacaerys, perhaps…”

He felt… dirty. Bargaining his sister that way for his own gain. But he couldn’t feel entirely bad about it. He knew she didn’t want to marry him anymore he did her. Besides, he couldn’t actually give her hand away. It wasn’t his decision. He could bait Rhaenyra with it though, and that seemed to have been working well enough.

Rhaenyra’s eyes grew slightly, surprised by his words. He had better instincts than she originally thought he did. A grin spread on her lips. Perhaps he might be a little more useful than what she believed he would. “That is a generous proposition, Aegon.” She was well aware it was not within his power to arrange that proposal, but, it nevertheless gave her an idea. One she would gladly take note of.

He stood up from his chair. Intent on leaving, but before he could, he turned to face her again and decided to press his luck and ask for one more advice. With a deep breath, he held onto the backrest of the chair he previously sat on, and spoke:

  “Princess-” He started.

“Rhaenyra.” She interrupted, then. “Given our newfound understanding, you needn’t abide to such formalities anymore.”

“…Right.” He said. “Rhaenyra.” He tested her name on his tongue, it felt foreign in a way. Just as calling her ‘sister’. But he’d take the progress if it meant she’d remain at his side on this matter. “There’s one more thing. Her father? He is keen on marrying her to a neighboring lord. How can we guarantee he’ll accept this betrothal?” He posed the question he’d been interrupted from asking.

“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard. It’s not easy to deny the Crown. Whatever his goals are, find them out. Ask your lady love about his desires, and we’ll make a proposal he cannot refuse.” Rhaenyra said matter-of-factly waving her hands around. As if it was nothing to worry about. And his thoughts seemed to be written all over his face, because she continued:

“If the King and the council agree to this, her father will too. He’d be a fool otherwise, you’re a Prince. That would bring prestige to the Gaunt name like nothing else will.” She reassured him.

“Alright.” He nodded. “I’ll see you at the small council meeting later today, then.” Aegon said, and Rhaenyra frowned.

“So soon?”

“I’ve no time to waste. She’s due home in a matter of days, I must sort this before then.” He said adamantly.

“These things do not often resolve quickly. You must know this Aegon.”

“I do.”

“Why the rush then? Don’t tell me the girl’s pregnant.” She accused him.

Aegon bristled and huffed. “I’ve not touched her that way.” His gaze was harsh. “Maybe if I had, this would be easier. Marry us and avoid a scandal!” He jested. “But alas, I’ve been a good boy.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I meant no offense.”

“We may have reached an agreement, but you don’t need to pretend otherwise. I know how little you think of me.” He said.

Rhaenyra found herself feeling something aching to pride. Aegon was proving to be more astute than he led others to believe. Though she still would hazard a guess that it wasn’t something he did on purpose. Maybe, just maybe, she could mold this side of him to her liking. She never thought he could be an useful ally. Well, maybe not that, but certainly a tool in her favor.

“That’s true enough. Yet, I’ll have you know you’ve earned my respect today. Didn’t think you had this kind of fight in you.” She spoke honestly.

“I’m full of surprises.” He smirked.

“It would seem so.” She arched her brows amusedly.

“Well, I must get going, then.” He said and Rhaenyra merely nodded. There was a brief exchange through their eyes. Something new, something that wasn’t cold indifference. These past couple of days have brought him nothing but surprises. And he was giddy with it, even if confused. But he did not care, his life seemed to be shifting somewhere he actually would like for it to be, and nothing would ruin that for him.

He exited her quarters, decided on finding his lady. He wished to tell her the good news, that he was working on the promise he made. There was still a couple of hours before he had to be in the small council, and there’s nowhere else he wished to be, than by her side.

He traversed the keep with a skip to his step on his way to the guest rooms where he was likely to find her. Not long after Aegon found himself standing in front of her door, he knocked with a barely contained smile on his lips. He was so close to making it work, and he hoped to see the same excitement mirrored in her eyes when he told her. He continued to knock, but there was no answer, he waited for another few seconds, then teste the nob, finding it unlocked, he slowly pushed inside, calling for her. But there was no answer. He walked to the room and found it empty. Aegon let out a frustrated sigh, and set out to find where she had gone off to. But in his excitement he failed to notice that the room wasn’t merely empty because she wasn’t there. But everything that had been brought with her and her mother was gone.

She watched as the waters of Blackwater Bay lapped at the rocks in which the Red Keep stood. The skies were bright blue and cloudless. A kettle of birds wheeled in beautiful circles above the waves, a beautiful song and dance coming from them. She did not know how long she had been there, having disappeared from the guest rooms as soon as her mother had ordered their things to be packed. She skipped the breaking of her fast and wondered to a tower far from there. She had not been paying attention to where she was, merely following the silence.

A strong gust of wind had her holding tighter to the casement of the sill in which she stood. And she thought the ought not to worry about holding on. The waves below beckoned for her. She beckoned for her.

She clutched the twin stars on her necklace as she gazed upon the salty waters. All rivers led to the sea; perhaps she’d find Maxine waiting for her there. Her beloved sister, the only one who truly loved her, wholly. With no reservations, no conditions. Maybe she’d find the love she so desperately missed beneath the waves.

She belonged there, with her sister. In an ideal world Maxine would’ve never died. But, if someone was meant to have died that day, then it felt cruel that the gods had spared her and not Max. It should’ve been her. She had always felt like it should’ve been her that day when the river waters swallowed them both. Her mother merely confirmed that her thoughts were correct the night before. Truly, she believed she had died that day too. Whatever life she had afterwards was lived by a ghost walking among men.

She would join Max wherever she was. Because that’s how it always was with them, Max would take a step, and she would follow. Without her she was aimless. It was long overdue that she followed behind her in death. She looked below again, and found that her death with be swift. She’d likely hit the rocks before she reached the water, it was a kinder death than the one afforded her sister. But, the how did not matter, so long as she met her end.

She took a couple of steadying breaths, finding peace in the salty smell of the sea. She took her hand away from the casement, letting the wind sway her in her place, before relaxing into its awaiting arms as she allowed herself to fall forward and into the waters below.

Waters that never came.

She felt her dress being gripped tightly as she is abruptly pulled into the opposite direction, where she instead fell backwards to the floor and into someone’s awaiting arms.

Aegon’s Arms.

“Let me go!” She fights the hold he has on her, clawing at his hands that wrapped around in a white knuckled grip.

“No!” Aegon said holding her tightly against his chest and keeping her from moving anywhere. His heart raced, thundering in his chest with fear he had never felt before in his life.

He had never heard such a desperate edge on her voice before this. For the most part she was always composed, but this? It filled him with horror and heartache. Aegon kept his hold on her tight no matter how much she clawed and kicked, he stayed unrelenting. Praying she’d stop fighting him.

“Let me go! Let go of me, Aegon!” She screamed.

“No!” Aegon said more firmly this time, and he felt her trembling within his hold, still weakly she tried to fight her way out of it.

“Please, let me go.” She said quietly, he heard the tremble in her voice. He couldn’t see it with her back to him, but he knew she was crying.

He took shaky breaths, fighting his own tears. “I can’t.” He spoke softly.

“I won’t. I made you a promise, remember?” He added. His own desperate plea for her to calm down in his arms.

She stilled at those words, her struggles dying down. Though her body still trembled. He held her close to him, his hands rubbed gentle circles on her arms as he tried to soothe her however he could.

Argon’s words were like a bucket of cold water. A startling reminder. He had promised to not let her go the night before, that he would not let her mother take her away from him. He was keeping his promise. He did not forget her like she thought he would. She felt the fight leave her body, and she laid limp in his arms.

Aegon let out a shaky sigh of relief, and loosened his bruising grip on her slightly when he surmised she would not fight him anymore. Still he kept her close to his chest and his arms encircling her in a embrace.

“Please.” He whispered, his voice pleading. “I won’t let you go. I won’t let anyone take you away.”

His chin is on her head, and like this he could smell of her hair. He committed it to memory, the shock of almost losing her having not ebbed away in the slightest.

“Why would you… Tell me what’s wrong.” He asked, voice uncharacteristically gentle. She held onto his arms around her, refusing to answer.

“Please.” He begged.

“Mother’s taking me home today. She knows about us, and she’s taking me home.” She answered in a half-truth, despair lingered in her voice still. “She...” The girl swallowed thickly unable to bring herself to tell him everything her mother said to her in the night.

Or in all the years before that.

She simply stared at the ceiling, her head on his chest as his heart thudded still in his chest. More alive than she felt in that moment.

He tightened his arms around her once more, his body pressing against her as if to shield her from any harm.

“No.” He said firmly. “No, you’re not going back. I won’t let her take you.” He took a shaky breath, burying his face in her hair. “Can you sit?” He asked her and she nodded.

He gently and slowly untangled from her, until they both sat on the floor, facing one another. She refused to look into his eyes, choosing to keep her head down. But he took her face into his hands and forced her eyes to meet his own. He finally saw the depths of the pain in her eyes and his heart shattered at the sight.

“I need you to listen to me: She’s not taking you home.” His hands were wet with her tears.

“I’ve spoken with Rhaenyra and I will get your hand in marriage. I’m bringing our betrothal to the small council today. And they will accept it. You’ll never have to go back there again.”

He told her in slow measured words. He felt like he was lying, because he still could hear a no from them. But after what he just saw, he would make sure they’d listen. If not, he would take her and Sunfyre and they’d fly far away, never to be found. Nothing, absolutely nothing was going to stop him from keeping his promise to her.

She’s left shell shocked. He had done it. He said he’d make her his. And he’s keeping to his word. He’s fighting for her and it surprised her that he did. She liked him before, but she thought she could grow to truly love him. Irrevocably. Still, his words did not put her mind and heart at ease, and he could see it written all over her face.

Aegon saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes and allowed himself to smile. But it was gone as soon as it appeared, leaving nothing but her pain behind. His smile fell just as quickly, his brows furrowed.

“That’s not why you wanted to- to jump.” It was like a revelation dawned on him. “It’s not just about us at all.” And the look on her face was all the answer he needed.

She shook her head in shame. She did not wish to disappoint him, he had looked so sure, so relieved that what he said would ease her heart. And she wished that it had. She wished it was enough.

“I’m sorry.” She said, closing her eyes as fresh tears fell.

Aegon’s eyes filled with pain at her words. He pulled her into his arms before she could see the tears that threatened to fall from his own eyes. He wanted to be strong for her in that moment. He didn’t want to burden her with his own emotions.

“None of that.” He said softly, while his hands rubbed up and down her back. “You have no reason to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

He buried his face in her soft hair, keeping her close to his chest, and for a moment he said nothing. He allowed her to cry it out onto his chest as he tried to collect the whirlwind of his own thoughts. He felt completely out of his depth, but he wanted, needed, to help her.

“Please tell me what’s hurting you.” He asked her in a whisper.

“I can’t.” She choked out. Burrowing deeper onto his embrace, as if it would make her disappear. Aegon held her firmly, his hand cradled her head against his beating heart.

“Please.” He said, and willed his trembling voice to still. “I can’t bear to see you like this, I want to help you.” He told her. “You don’t have to tell me everything now. Or ever. But I need you to give me something, anything.” He pleaded.

And gods, she wished she could. But she didn’t know how. She didn’t know if she was ready to voice all of it to anyone, she never wanted him to see, truly see, all there was to her. Afraid that if he knew all there was inside of her, that he'd no longer want her. That he'd give up on her like everyone else before him.

“I can’t.” She said through the tears.

“If I speak such horrors it will make them real.” She forced the words out between sobs. “I can’t.”

Aegon’s heart twisted at her words and her pain. And he understood. More than he thought he would, because he too, knew what it was like to hide everything that hurt him. Burying it all so deep to pretend it wasn’t there in the hopes it would disappear. Even if all that did was make it fester like a plague.

“Then show me.” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Show me what frightens you. Please.”

He felt bad for pushing her to speak, but he knew of no other way to help. He needed to understand what hurt her so deeply if he ever wished to fix it. He held her close to him to give her time to think, to decide if she was ready to show him her truth.

After a while, she pulled away from him just enough to take one of his hands to the necklaces that hung around her neck. She watched as he fingered the pendants and inspected them, his gaze was pensive as he tried to understand what she wanted to show him. His touch was light, matching the delicacy of the jewelry itself. The twin stars in yellow-green bound to silver chains had caught his eyes before. She seemed to always wear them, toying with the chain or the pendants between her fingers often, and that always made him curious, but he never brought himself to ask about them before, thinking she simply found them pretty and not assigning any deeper meaning. And now he saw he had made a wrong assessment about that.

“Can you tell me about these?” He asked her quietly, his fingers still dancing over the pendants.

“My- My sister.” She stammered. “Twins. One for me, one for her.” She said, red-rimmed eyes on the two identical necklaces she wore.

“Twins.” He repeated quietly. He didn’t know she had a sister, much less a twin. And that made him realize how little he actually knew of the one who had so thoroughly captured his heart. He found himself desperate and eager to know more of her. His fingers gently brushed over the pendants once more, his touch careful and gentle. “Why do you wear both?”

She looked at him as if begging for him to understand on his own. The words caught on her throat, words she did not wish to say.

Aegon glanced away from the necklaces and back at her face. He saw the look in her eyes, the pleading, the pain, and the anguish. His mind raced to processes everything. And it did not take him long to connect the dots, finally making some sense of what hurt her so. His hand moved from the necklace to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “You wear them both...” His gaze fluttered back down to the twin necklaces, his heart in his throat.

“Because she isn’t here to wear hers.” He said softly and downcast.

She released her breath in relief. He knew, but she did not have to say it. She did not know why it was so hard for her to simply say what needed to be said.

“I love her.” She could never bring herself to refer to her in the past tense. Even after so long. “Everyone always has.”

Aegon’s heart ached for her as she spoke, the pain and longing in her entire being was as clear as the day outside that room. He rubbed his thumb over her cheek in soothing circles.

“She was your twin. Of course you love her.” He said gently.

He didn’t have a twin of his own, and his relationship with his siblings was far from perfect, but he knew that if something happened to them he’d feel terrible. “And I’m sure she loved you just as much.”

“She’s the only one who ever has.” Her lips quirked up in a sad smile.

“The only one? Come now, I find that hard to believe.” Aegon tilted his head a bit, his brows up in disbelief as he cupped her face in his hands, gently turning her head to look at him.

“What about your parents?” He asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

She laughed at his question. Mirthless and almost deranged.

Aegon’s taken aback by her reaction, and he felt a chill run down his spine. He didn’t like the implications.

“They... they don’t love you?” He asked directly, because he knew parents were supposed to love their children unconditionally — his own notwithstanding — and he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone would be unable to love her. She was captivating and easy to like.

“How can they love me? After what I’ve done.”

“What do you mean?” He asked filled with both confusion and worry. “What could you have possibly done to make them not love you?”

“I took away their pride and joy. The only one who’s ever loved me for who I am.” She said with her voice devoid of emotion. As if she was stating a fact. And it scared him.

“No.” He said, his voice firm despite the emotions that raged inside him. “That’s not true. You didn’t take her from anyone. It wasn’t your fault.”

“My mother would disagree with you. And you weren’t there. It was my fault, Aegon.” She spoke harshly, and her words were true. She felt… angry. That he didn’t believe her. She did not know why; but she felt betrayed at his refusal to accept what she did.

Aegon hated to hear her speak of herself that way. Like some sort of irredeemable evil. But he also knew her enough to know that she was a hard one to convince, so he would not fight her on this. She did have a point; he wasn’t there, he doesn’t know what happened when her sister died. But he was hard pressed to believe she was at any fault. So he insisted asked her about the other thing she mentioned, the thing that prickled his spine and made him deeply uneasy:

“You said your mother would disagree with me… What did she say to you?” He was afraid of her answer.

“You’re smart enough to figure this one on your own, Aegon.”

His heart sank, and he grew angry on her behalf. She did not need to tell him, that much was true. Her mother blamed her for her sister’s death. Instead of helping her through the loss, she blamed her. And he was furious.

“Well, your mother’s a fool.”

“She isn’t a fool if she speaks the truth.”

“Don’t defend her. I don’t care what happened or how she felt about it, she shouldn’t tell you those things.”

“It’s better than telling me a lie.” Her voice was filled with sorrow. Her mother telling her the truth, correctly assigning blame was not the worst thing she said to her. Far from it.

“I wish I had been the one to die that day, and not her.” She admitted out loud for the first time. “We’d all be happier for it.” She echoed her mother’s words.

Argon’s breath caught in his throat, his heart shattering into a million pieces. Because he cared for her, so, so much. And he was willing to fight the King himself for her, and yet, she wasn’t willing to do so for herself.

“Don’t.” He managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t say that. Please. Don’t say you wish you’d died.” He brought their foreheads together.

“You wanted the truth.”

“Not this truth.” He mumbled and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Please… Don’t wish you were dead. I need you here. I need you with me.” He pleaded, looking into her eyes.

“You don’t Aegon.” She pulled back from him, and gave a comforting smile through her tears. “Maybe you would feel sad for a while. But then you would move on, you’d find someone who could truly be here for you in a way I can’t.” She caressed his cheek.

“We talked of marriage, of wanting one another.” She began. “And while all of that remains true. My wants, my desires... I’d only ruin it all in the end. And I’d loathe to be cruel to you, my Prince.” She spoke his title with fondness.

Aegon felt as if had been stabbed repeatedly by her words. The horrible truths she believed in. And it was terrifying. He had known her for so little, and yet the thought of her no longer being in his life, in this world, was unbearable. She made his days better, he looked forward to seeing her in the corners of the Keep, her sharp words and her playful stares. He thoroughly thought the world was better with her in it.

He shifted to sit on his heels so he could het closer to her, his hand held her face between them and he looked into her eyes again.

“I won’t listen to this. I won’t... I can’t lose you.” He swallowed thickly. “Please don’t talk like this. I- I need you. Here. With me.”

“Please don’t leave me.” He pleaded her, and he wrapped his arms around her like a vice. “Don’t leave me, please.” He said against her head, the words lost in the softness of her hair.

Aegon is held on to her as if he held his whole world within his arms. And the longer he did so, the more her resolve crumbled. His words were so sincere, and yet she could not fathom that someone could care for her this much. The last person to do so was Max, and she’s been gone for years. She had not felt this much love since she died. She struggled to believe it to be true. And yet she wanted it. Her body starts to shake as she began to cry violently in his arms again.

He held her as she let out all of her pain onto him, his eyes marred with unshed tears because he refused to add to her guilt and her sorrow. He had never seen her like this, so vulnerable and broken. It tore him up inside to know that she believed she was undeserving of his love. Undeserving of her own life. He whispers soft, soothing words to her. Most of it felt like nonsense to him, but he was never good at knowing what to say, how to comfort or how to care properly. All he knew was that he wanted her pain to stop, and most desperately he wanted her to live.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m here ” He whispered and shushed against her head. And then: “Stay with me, please, stay with me, stay with me.” He begged her almost as desperately as she cried.

“I don’t know if I have the strength to.” She said to him then.

Aegon wanted to scream, he wanted to carve out the pain in her heart. He’d take it into his own if he could. But we would not let her go. His hands tightened on her as he held onto her shoulders, then he spoke with the kind of certainty and authority that befitted him as a Targaryen Prince. As a dragon.

“You do have the strength.” His voice was firm, yet gentle. “You’re the strongest person I know, my Lady. Because you’ve made it this far.” He wished she could see that herself. “But you don’t have to it alone anymore, you have me. Lean on me, take my strength to yourself. I’m here.”

He cupped her face in his hands with the tenderness one held a flower and he urged her to look him in the eyes. “Just, please, don’t leave me.”

“Would you truly have me stay? As broken as I am? Why? You could have anyone.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His lips tilt into a brief smile. “I don’t want anyone except you. And I don’t care how broken you think you are.” He brushed a strand of hair that stuck to her damp cheeks from her face, his touch gentle and tender. “I want you. Broken or whole. Nothing will change that. Please... please stay with me.”

There’s a moment of silence where her tears subsided into sniffles and she suddenly nodded aggressively. “I’ll try.” She said then, her voice hoarse from crying. “For you.” She revealed. “For you I’m willing to try.”

Aegon wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace, relief washed over him as he heard her promise to stay. He gently ran his fingers over her hair, his chin resting on the top of her head.

“For me… But also for yourself.” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his gaze sincere and intense. “You deserve to be happy and loved, even if you don’t see it yet.” He kissed her forehead.

“For yourself.” She repeated his words with a hint of mirth. “That’s my line.” She said, recalling how she’d insisted he made an effort to better himself not for anyone, but for him.

Aegon smiled despite the seriousness of the situation, the memory bringing a slight sense of humor.

“Ah, yes, I suppose that is your line.” He acquiesced. “It’s too good not to use though.” He shrugged. His expression turned serious once more, his gaze fixed on her.

“It’s true, you know. You deserve to be happy, and I want to be the one to make you happy. But most importantly, I want you to learn to love yourself.” As I do. He almost said. But he wasn’t quite ready to admit the depth of his own feelings to himself, let alone her.

“Stop throwing my own wisdom at me.” She playfully shoved him. Her tears had begun to dry, though her heart still ached; she had no idea how to move forward from this. She had been so resolute about where her life would end just earlier. But in this moment, with him, she allowed herself to float aimlessly for a while longer.

“How does that saying go?” She began. “Do as I say…”

Aegon laughed softly, the sound a welcome relief from the sadness around them. “Ah, that one.” He grinned. “A hypocritical philosophy, my Lady.” He pulled her close. “It seems you need to practice what you preach a bit more often.”

“My words have come back to haunt me.” She deadpanned.

Aegon chuckled, his eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at her. Happy that she seemed a little lighter. Her eyes a little brighter. “It seems you’re not immune to your own advice after all.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Stubborn as a mule.” He shook his head. “But so am I. And I’m not going to let you escape this conversation without admitting you deserve happiness too.”

“Then we shall wither and rot right here, I’m afraid.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, playful annoyance on his face.

“Always so dramatic, aren’t you?” He teased.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait here until one of us crumbles. But I assure you, my Lady, I have the patience of a saint.”

She huffed. “Since when? That’s absolute crap and we both know it.”

Aegon laughed at her response and raised his arms in surrender. “Fine, perhaps I’m not the epitome of patience.” He admitted playfully.

“But when it comes to you, I’m willing to try. I’d wait an eternity if it meant you’d finally see your worth.” He spoke, his nose brushed hers as he met her eyes.

“Where has this romantic and eloquent Aegon been hiding?” She said, mildly surprised.

Aegon pulled back, pretending to be offended. “Why, my Lady, you wound me.” He said with a dramatic flair, placing a hand over his heart. “Haven’t you been paying attention?”

“It’s infuriating that I’m not immune to you. Just like every other girl you chased after.” Her words aren’t meant to be harsh, though she immediately feared they’d be taken as such.

Aegon’s playful expression faltered for a moment as he registered the words she said.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked as his eyes searched her face. A hint of worry in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me that way. It was just an observation.” She nudged him gently. “I spent so long adamant that I wasn’t interested in you, because I didn’t want to be like all the others. Who fawned over you for all the wrong reasons.” She told him as much. Which was true, but there was more she wasn’t ready to admit to just yet.

Aegon listened quietly as she spoke, his gaze fixed on her face. He could tell there was more to it, but he didn’t press further.

“And what made you change your mind?” He asked quietly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“Well... When I met you, I did feel captivated by your disheveled ways.” She recalled seeing him for the first time with a faint smile. He was the opposite of what a prince should be, and that made her feel a certain way. It did help that he was pretty.

“But all the others fawned over the Prince. And you only ever wanted someone to get it wet. So I stayed away.” She did not mention how many times she almost caved and let him have his way with her, because she felt that being used and discarded was exactly what she deserved.

“It wasn’t until I started to get a glimpse of why you were that way, that everything changed. Like I told you in the courtyard that day; I see myself in you. In a way.” She settled comfortably at his side, shoulders touching.

“I thought I understood you, and, deep, deep down, I wanted you to understand me.”

Aegon listened intently as she spoke, his expression becoming softer and more thoughtful. He turned to face her then. “And do you feel I understand you now?” He asked quietly, his voice sincere and earnest. He reached out to take her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I think you do. More than I thought you would.” 

That response made Aegon’s heart skip a beat, and his grip on her hand tightened briefly, before he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft, gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“It means the world to me to have your trust.” His voice was filled with sincerity.

“You’re the only one who’s made the effort. Which is truly surprising coming from the Red Keep’s number one skirt chaser.” She gave him a painful truth then covered it up with a playful jab. Aegon always made it easy for her to focus on other things besides her sorrow. He brought a lightness, an ease. She couldn’t help but compare him to the Sun. Necessary for all life to flourish, but can burn you if you get too close.

Aegon laughed at her jab, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “I’m very proud of my accomplishments, thank you.”

He was undoubtedly honest about that, and she knew. Still, it made her roll her eyes.

He pulled closer to him, his arm wrapping around her waist to glue her to his side. “Well, I can promise you this much, my Lady; you’re the only skirt I’m interested in chasing these days.”

“How flattering.” She said flatly. Though knowing he wanted her enough to say that, made warmth bloom on her mostly-cold-heart.

“It is!” He said, smugly. “An honor I tell you.” He smirked.

“Seven hells...” She closed her eyes and sighed. “How come I fell in love with you of all people?” She barely realized her admission, being slightly annoyed at his behavior. It was ridiculous and she adored him for it.

“My irresistible charm I wager.”

“Wouldn’t go that far.”

They both huffed before falling into silence. It was, strangely, a comfortable one. Despite the circumstances that led to it. They sat side to side with their backs leaning on the sand-colored stone, and above them was the very window she had tried to jump from. One could hear the waves breaking outside, smell the salt, and hear the birds and their songs when they flew by. It was then she finally felt her body crash from all the adrenaline before, all the extreme emotions and the lack of sleep, food or drinks. She unconsciously leaned her head on his shoulder, comforted by the rise and fall of his chest and the morning light that shone above them.

She found that she liked this. That she wanted more of whatever this was. And she realized that had Aegon not found her when he did, she wouldn’t have been able to sit by his side like this. She couldn’t yet say for sure if she thought this single moment was worth living for, but she made a promise to him. And she would abide by it. Her words were one of the few things she had for herself, and perhaps the little pride she had left.

“You seem exhausted.” Aegon broke their silence. He spoke quietly, as if he spoke any louder he might startle her, and she merely weakly nodded against him.

“I should’ve slept last night, probably.” She said.

“You should rest, then.” He suggested.

“I should, right here, on the floor. Uncomfortable and undignified.” She joked.

Aegon chuckled a hint of amusement in his weary smile. He pulled her gently underneath his arm, her head now rested on his chest. “There’s no need for that when there’s a bed in this very room.”

“Very true, and enticing.”

She said, and with that Aegon helped her up and they walked the very short distance towards the bed. She mumbled about how in slightly different circumstances, and if her head didn’t have a mounting headache, she would’ve joked about him and her alone in a room with one bed. He snickered at her words and promised he’d hold her to that at a later date. He went as far as helping her sit down on the soft mattress when they are startled by a guard coming through the door.

“My Prince! The Keep has been in a state of disarray looking for Lady Gaunt for upwards of an hour. The girl’s mother and her Grace are terribly worried.”

The guard explained, the mention of her mother made her immediately tense besides Aegon, the color drained from her face. His arms immediately tightened around her when he noted the shift in her demeanor. He looked at the guard with a stern expression, his tone firm when he spoke. “Thank you for informing us, but rest assured she’s safe with me.” He continued to hold her protectively close, his grip almost possessive.

“I’m sure she is, your highness. But we were instructed to bring the girl back to her mother as soon as we found her.” The guard said cautiously, noting how the Prince obviously was not letting her go, and she didn’t look any eager to follow the guard out anywhere.

“How unfortunate, but the Lady is feeling unwell.”

“My Prince-”

“I’m aware of your orders, and I’m giving you new ones.” Aegon interrupted the guard. “Let the Queen, and only the Queen know where to find us.” He said using every ounce of authority he could.

The guard regarded the both of them for a moment, hesitating. But Aegon’s tone has left no room for argument. “Very well, my Prince, I will pass the message on.” The guard bowed before he left the room, and closed the door behind him.

Aegon squeezed his arm around her then looked down to find her expression filled with concern.

Her heart was beating rapidly within her chest. The tentative amount of hope she had felt quickly ebbed away, slipping through her fingers to give space to the same feeling of dread and hopelessness that had her yearning for death before.

“I can’t go back Aegon.” Her voice trembled and Aegon’s eyes darkened as he saw the despair return to her expression.

He sat down beside her to meet her eye level, his hands raised to cup her face firmly between them. Forcing her to look him in the eyes, and see the determination in his gaze.

“You are not going back.” He said with no room for doubt. “I won’t let them take you.” He leaned their foreheads together and closed his eyes as they breathed the same air.

“Whatever is in my power to help.” He answered in a half-truth. He had not forgotten how his mother had opposed their betrothal the previous night. “Something to hopefully make her life just a little easier.”

Alicent sighed. “Just don’t do anything reckless.” She had little confidence about what he’d do, but she was going to let him, if only to appease him for the day.

“There’s somewhere I need to be; but I do not wish for her to be alone when she wakes.” He said while gently caressing her cheek, then he looked at his mother with a silent question.

“She won’t be.”

“Thank you, mother.”

He took a deep breath to compose himself, drying his face on the sleeves of his doublet. He let out a breath and took one last look at her who slept soundly, her face devoid of pain in her sleep. Aegon got up from the bed and walked all the way over to the door, before he turned back to his mother. “Please talk to her mother.” He reminded her.

Alicent nodded and watched him leave. She spent the next couple of minutes putting her thoughts together, most of which revolved around how duty was tearing them all apart.

“Ser Criston.” She called for him, and he promptly entered.

“Yes, your Grace?”

“I need you to stay on guard. No one but me or Aegon is allowed inside. Not even the girl’s mother.”

Criston bowed his head in understanding.

She was then ready to leave, she would search for the girl’s mother to do what she told her son she would. But before she could, she remembered Aegon’s second request. “Ser Criston, stay inside the room with the girl, she shouldn’t be alone when she wakes.”

He nodded and moved to hold the door open for Alicent. She hesitated on the threshold, stealing a glance toward the bed the girl laid in. “Is there anything else, my Queen?” Criston asked her.

“I fear the protection she needs the most right now; is from herself.”

Alicent gave him a pointed look. She had been in her son’s place once, and Criston had been the one in the girl’s role — though Alicent had not been in love then like her son was — she hoped he’d understand what she meant. If he remembered that fateful night as well as she did.

“…I see.” He replied as he glanced briefly at the sleeping girl. A sense of kinship washed over him. “No harm shall come to her, your Grace.”

“Thank you, Ser Criston.” Alicent said, and finally left in search of Lady Esme.

Meanwhile, Aegon arrived at the council, surprised, and pleased, to find only a few members were present at the small council. His sister Rhaenyra among them.

“My Prince, what a surprise to see you here.” Said Lord Tyland Lannister.

“Surprised to be here, My Lord.” He said with his usual nonchalance.

“You’re very welcome here. Though you do not have a seat at this table.”

“I’m the King’s son. I should have one. Don’t you think?” Aegon wanted to kick himself after he said so. He shouldn’t antagonize the people he needed on his side. But he was prickly and nervous.

“Well, yes, but you see…”

“Lord Tyland, my brother may not have a seat, but we’ll discuss something important today that he should be present for.” Rhaenyra interrupted him and invited Aegon to her side.

“Thank you.” He said and stood by her. Not bothering himself with a chair, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He could feel the eyes of the council members upon him, but he tried to keep his expression neutral, hiding his anxiety and anticipation. He glanced around the room, praying that his mother would not arrive on time. He knew she would not be on his side, and he feared her sway with the council.

“So, what topic will we be discussing today?” He asked Rhaenyra to occupy his time, voice betraying a hint of impatience.

“Well, there’s been some issues between the Brackens and the Blackwoods. As well as trouble rearing its head on the Stepstones again.” She said, not mentioning their plans for the meeting.

“Stepstones again?” He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. “Those damned pirates just won’t quit, will they?”

“Indeed. Though I’ll have to admit I respect their resilience.” She said.

“I suppose it does take a certain level of determination to keep fighting despite the constant defeats.” He agreed. “But they’re still a nuisance that needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later.”

“That is very true, My Prince.” Lord Lyonel Strong said, from where he sat, having been paying close attention to the Prince and Princess.

Aegon turned his gaze towards Lord Strong, his expression guarded.

“You have a plan, my Lord?” He asked, his tone slightly deferential. He didn’t particularly want to make small talk, or actually cared enough about the topic, but he had only one chance today, and he wanted to play his cards right.

Her life hinged on it.

“That’s what we’re here to discuss as soon as everyone arrives.” Lord Lyonel said. And Aegon nodded in acknowledgement, his heart rate picking up as he waited for the meeting to start.

“When does the meeting usually start?” He leaned toward Rhaenyra and asked.

“Soon. Everyone tends to be fairly punctual.” Rhaenyra answered.

“I hope so. The sooner this meeting starts, the sooner it ends.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.” She said with a hand on her belly, her pregnancy neared its end, which made her achy and impatient.

Aegon stole and glance at her and chuckled. “You look like you’re about to burst, sister.” He teased. Jesting was his way of combating his nerves. Well… that, and wine.

She recognized a playfulness to his tone and smiled briefly at it. “I wish I would, so I could be done with it.” She replied adjusting herself on the chair.

“Ah, the plight of pregnancy. A burden I shall never have to bear.”

He paused for a moment and asked with genuine interest. “Have you given any thought to the babe’s name yet?” He had spoken to her more in this morning than he had his entire life. And he felt like he wouldn’t mind actually knowing his elder sister. Foolish though it was. But he was never the smart one. “Or babes.” He added with a smirk, glancing down at her.

“Oh gods, no. One is already one too many.” She chuckled.

Aegon laughed at her words. “Oh, come now, aren’t children a blessing?”

She side-eyed him, not dignifying him with an answer. “Though I have to admit, you do look positively miserable at the moment.” He said.

“How observant, little brother.” She deadpanned. Rhaenyra found she was enjoying her back and forth with him. Never having allowed herself to before, given how sour her relationship with his mother was. And the strife Aegon brought to her, politically simply by being born. She looked at him and saw nothing but a child. Like her boy Jace. Perhaps, her resentment of him was somewhat unfair.

“Oh, you wound me.” Aegon replied with a hand over his heart. “Though I must say, motherhood agrees with you. You’re as charming as ever.” He said sarcastically.

He studied her face for a moment, contemplating the change in their dynamic. Perhaps it was time to let go of their past tensions and embrace a new understanding, even if just temporarily.

And, as if on cue, the last members of the small council began to file in. Aegon’s heart rate increased slightly as he took note of the men on their seats. He stole a glance at Rhaenyra, giving her a subtle nod as if to say ‘ready?’ Soon enough, all the council members were present, and the meeting began in earnest when his father took his seat at the head of the table. He was clearly puzzled by Aegon’s presence at Rhaenyra’s side, and Alicent’s absence. Lord Strong started by discussing the issue of the Stepstones, suggesting new plans to quell the threat. A fierce discussion between the council members ensued, the men arguing over possible solutions.

Aegon watched silently, his initial anxiety replaced by a sense of boredom. He yawned slightly, having hoped to get to the betrothal discussion sooner rather than later. He wanted to be over and done with it before his mother had a chance to arrive. As time passed, the council moved on to discuss other issues, and thankfully there was still no sign of Alicent. Aegon fidgeted anxiously in his standing position, his patience wearing thin. He was glad that for the most part they paid him no mind. Sometimes they’d ask his opinion on one thing or another, probably to make him feel included, and he’d mostly deflect to someone else. After what felt like an eternity, the door opened to reveal Alicent, who apologized for her tardiness and hastily took her seat on the table. Aegon cursed internally and shared a look with Rhaenyra. Alicent frowned from her seat across the table, wondering what Aegon planned on doing there, and why he stood beside Rhaenyra.

The discussion among the council moved forward, and Aegon had to stop himself from intervening several times. He’s itching to get to the betrothal, but he knew he needed to wait for the right moment. Hopefully when everyone was tired from all the discussions it would make them more pliable to his wishes. He stole glances at his mother, silently praying she wouldn’t put all his effort to ruin. And she in turn looked at him with apprehension and curiosity, the tension in the room gradually rising.

“I think we have discussed all we needed for the day. Is there anything to be brought forward?” Lord Strong said.

Aegon nearly jumped at the opportunity, but before he could speak, Rhaenyra’s voice rang out. “Actually, there is one more matter to be addressed.” Her voice was steady and commanding. “It has come to my attention that my brother, Prince Aegon, wishes to cement an alliance with a new house through marriage.”

The council members exchanged curious and surprised glances. By now they had all heard whispers of the Prince’s new affection for a certain girl, but none thought it was that serious. Aegon looked between his parents; his mother bore a tired expression, while his father seemed amused. He expected worse from both of them, and such reactions made him feel slightly more at ease.

Lord Strong, ever the pragmatic one, was the first to ask a question. “And which house does the Prince wish to form this alliance with?” He spoke directly at Aegon.

He took a deep breath now that the spotlight was on him, he had to make it count. “House Gaunt, my Lord.” He answered. “I wish to betroth myself to their only daughter.” The council members were taken aback by his choice.

“House Gaunt? Remind me of where they hail from, son.” His father asked him.

Aegon cleared his throat. “They are a small and relatively new House situated in Ashfall just south of Saltpans, my King.” He explained. “Their seat is in the rather secluded Ashen Hall.” Aegon had spent the night in the library pouring over every information he could find on her House and the nearby lands, anything to give him a leg to stand on for his proposal.

“Ah, they are one of the Queen’s guests.” The King said in recognition.

“As of now, the Lady is the only heir to their house.” He continued. He wanted to leave no one there room to think too much. “By marrying her it would mean both myself and my children would stand to inherit it.”

“While an inheritance is valued, my Prince, theirs is so insignificant that it isn’t advantageous for the Crown.” Lord Tyland said.

Aegon’s temper flared. This would be incredibly annoying to get through. But he would be damned if he didn’t get out of there with everyone’s shining fucking approval.

“I wasn’t finished, Lord Lannister.” He spoke gravely and Tyland apologized recoiling in his seat.

“They are situated not far from the Trident. And, I’m aware that Lord Maximilian Gaunt wishes to cement his ownership over nearby lands that give access to the river itself.” He had spoken with her at some point, and remembered her mentioning her father’s ambitions in passing. He did not care for it then, but it was going to be extremely useful now. Or so he hoped.

“With the aid of the Crown, he would all but ensure it. He’d be indebted to us, and because of our marriage we would have full access to it. Including important shipping lanes.” He finished, and looked at Tyland again.

“See the value of waiting and listening, my Lord?”

“Well, yes, my Prince. But-”

“But what, Tyland?”

Sensing an impeding quarrel, Alicent raised her voice. “What my son means to say, is that while the Lady’s House standing might not be as noble as some others, her family’s strategic position and potential for growth makes them a valuable match.”

Aegon’s eyes were wide as he looked at her after she finished. It sounded as if she was taking his side on this. And he did not know what to make of it.

“House Gaunt is emergent, which means that by aligning ourselves to them we would have a direct hand on their growth. On influencing their future. It’s not something to be overlooked; we can’t think just of what we can obtain today, but what we might need years and decades from now.” Rhaenyra pointed out.

He had his sister and his mother on his side, all he needed was his father’s approval and the council would have to follow. He could do this.

Aegon let a confident smile spread over his face. “I have spoken to the young Lady, and she agrees with the match.” A collective murmuring followed among the council, some of the members seemingly taken aback, and Aegon’s smile immediately fell. Perhaps it had not been the smartest thing to say.

“You’ve already spoken to the young lady without her family’s presence?” Lord Beesbury asked practically scandalized. Aegon clenched his jaw slightly at the question. Would this of all things, put it all to ruin?

“I have.” He replied firmly, he felt he had no choice but to stand his ground. “I had the chance to speak with her and the opportunity presented itself. So I took it.”

The council exchanged glances, clearly somewhat disapproving of Aegon’s break in protocol by speaking to the girl before her family. Rhaenyra stepped up then, personally annoyed by the small things that the council liked to pay too much attention to. “It is a little unusual that he spoke to the lady without her family’s knowledge, yes. But it’s of little importance.”

He is relieved to see that she was standing by him like she said she would. He gave Rhaenyra a subtle nod of thanks, appreciating her support.

Across from them, with a deep sigh, Alicent also spoke. “Prince Aegon has always been spontaneous and impulsive. While I agree that speaking to the young lady without her family’s knowledge was not the most conventional method, it does not take away from the value of the proposal.”

Alicent did not fully approve her son’s marriage to the girl, but her heart softened after learning of the girl’s attempt to end her own life. She knew not the reasons, but her son spoke a lot of not letting her go home, that home would kill her. And when she found Lady Esme afterwards and told her that her daughter had fallen ill, she not once worried. She only chastised her. Something in her eyes had sent goosebumps over her spine. What she had not expected was arriving at the council to find her son standing proudly besides Rhaenyra. It had not taken long for her to realize why that was. She had not given him her approval last night. So he sought it from someone else, the enemy. It stung, that he would something like that. But she also saw in him the first time; the fight she always instilled in him. Of doing whatever it took to get what they needed.

“Before we approve of this or not, there are two things needed: His Grace’s opinion on the matter, as well as bringing the Gaunts into negotiations.” Lord Strong spoke. Which made Aegon’s heart spike. His father had been mostly silent throughout this discussion, and it made him incredibly fearful that he would refuse.

“This is a good proposition! I don’t see why we shouldn’t consider it earnestly.” Viserys spoke and Aegon visibly relaxed. “It also shows a forward thinking in my son’s part. A very judicious proposition.” There was a smile on his father’s face. The man rarely addressed him, to have him praise him in front of others was unheard of.

“Thank you, father.” He bowed slightly.

“With the King’s approval all that’s left for us is to make a proposal the Gaunts will not refuse.” Rhaenyra said.

The council nodded in agreement, they weren’t fully approving of it, but they’ve all experienced many hurdles when it came to pushing back against unions before.

“We know Lord Gaunt wishes to expand his lands. What else do we know of his wishes?” Lord Beesbury asked looking at Aegon.

“He dreams of having a long-lasting legacy.” He started. “He wishes for his house to make a name for itself. To grow like his ancestors failed to do.”

“He’s an ambitious man, nothing else could further his goals quite like an alliance with the Crown.” Lord Lyonel said. “It would not be hard to convince him to agree with a betrothal.”

“We must approach this delicately.” Alicent cautioned. “We cannot appear too eager or desperate. We must show Lord Gaunt that we are offering him a valuable opportunity, not a charity.”

“Agreed, your Grace. We wouldn’t want for them to think we’re overvaluing the match. Lest they think they have more power in this transaction than they actually do.” Rhaenyra spoke looking at Alicent.

The council then started discussing terms back and forth while Aegon stood silently. Shocked that he had done it. He wanted it to work, but part of him expected rejection from everyone. And yet, there he was, listening in as they worked out a proposal on his behalf. It was unbelievable, he wanted to be excited, but he held on to the feeling until he was absolutely sure. All he really had in mind was coming back to her, his heart constricted in his chest thinking how he had left her alone after everything that transpired earlier. If anyone bothered to pay attention to him, they’d easily notice how antsy he felt. Across from him, Alicent knew that a former proposal still did not solve the issue of the girl returning home until negotiations were finalized. The one thing her son begged her to not let it happen.

“I want to add something to the proposal.” Alicent spoke. “I would like to offer to take young Lady Gaunt to ward while we negotiate with her family.” She looked at Aegon who looked equal parts grateful and confused. Then continued. “It would be a show of good faith, that the Crown would be glad to have their daughter as part of our family.”

Aegon was elated. That way he would be able to be by her side, and ensure she was well at all times. It meant she would be away from those who so willingly hurt her. He had no inkling of what changed his mother’s mind, but he did not care.

“A wonderful idea, Alicent.” The King agreed.

As Aegon watched them write the proposal he thought of something and went ahead to propose an idea of his own. “My Lords,” They all turned to him, “I believe nothing would show how serious the Crown is about the proposal, as having it delivered in person.” He then added:

“I would fly to Ashen Hall myself.”

He knew he was being eager and hasty. But he was not toying with her life. He needed her father to agree, and a dragon knocking on his door was surely convincing enough.

The council members exchanged surprised glances at Aegon’s suggestion. Alicent raised a worried brow.

“It is certainly a unconventional grand gesture, my Prince.” Lord Tyland said. “It would definitely leave an impression.” His words were not a compliment.

He looked at his mother and Rhaenyra, seeking their approval. Alicent looked concerned, but Rhaenyra gave him a nod, silently she supported his decision.

“If you are certain you wish to make this proposition in person, I won’t stop you. But please take care. We don’t want any diplomatic incidents.” The King said.

“I would not dare ruin this, father.” He said earnestly. “I would like to fly out today at the earliest, in the morrow at the latest, my Lords.” He said to urge them to finish with the draft.

Alicent watched as Aegon handled himself in a manner befitting the Prince that he was. And she did so proudly, even if she did not agree to his decisions fully, this was the attitude she had begged of him for so long, and she wished he were standing by her side then, and not Rhaenyra’s.

After what felt like an eternity to Aegon, they finally had a draft completed followed by a brief discussion regarding the wordings and phrasing of the proposal, with some members suggesting minor changes and additions. Alicent provided her own insights, and made sure the proposal clearly represented the Crown’s interests. Once the alterations were finished, Aegon was handed the parchment. He took it with care, his future; her future relied upon it.

“If you would excuse me, my Lords, I should go prepare for my flight.” He bowed to his parents, wishing to leave as quickly as he could to check on her. He nodded briefly to Rhaenyra and they exchanged a look where he hoped she saw all his gratitude. With that, he walked out of the small council, holding the future in his hands.

One by one the council members filed out of the room, but Alicent and Rhaenyra remained seated. Wordlessly they agreed to stay behind, they needed to talk. Alicent let out a sigh, her expression a mix of concern and pride.

“I hope he knows what he’s doing.” She said to Rhaenyra when there were only them in the room.

“I think he has never known better what he’s doing than now.” The Princess said in return.

“And you would know it?” Alicent scoffed. “You hardly ever talk to him, and suddenly you know my son?”

“No thanks to you.” Rhaenyra lifted a brow.

“Oh please, we both know you never made an effort.”

“Maybe.”

“Stay away from my son, Rhaenyra. I do not wish for him to be hurt because you’re encouraging his impulses.” Alicent warned her.

“Sometimes impulses pay off, my Queen.” Rhaenyra spoke with disdain. “And he might be your son, but need I remind you he is also my brother?”

“Something you always hated. Why suddenly do you care?” Alicent leaned forward on the table.

“Because he came knocking at my door when he felt he couldn’t count on you.”

Rhaenyra’s words were like a dagger to her heart. She drove her son to the enemy’s arms. Part of her wished that this newfound closeness between them would assure her children’s safety. But she could not discard an even more painful betrayal in the future.

Rhaenyra couldn’t quite hide the satisfaction she felt at Alicent’s reaction. How had she never thought about ingratiating herself with her little brother before? Having him at her side meant Alicent would have to think twice about her actions, lest it spills on her son. She smiled widely then, shifting the conversation. “He is quite eager, isn’t he? The excitement of young love.”

Alicent shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the change in topic was abrupt. And she understood the message, there had been a shift in power today. And it worried her.

“Yes, he’s quite smitten.” She said with worry. “It’s... endearing, in a way. I hope it doesn’t end in disaster.” She looked pointedly at Rhaenyra, whom she found to be at fault.

Rhaenyra chuckled softly, amused by her glare. “And we would all be to blame, after all, you agreed to this.”

Alicent’s nostrils flared. She agreed because she found herself cornered, Aegon made the choice to put her and himself in a difficult spot. All she could do was back him so things didn’t end so terribly.

“Love can make us do impulsive things, your Grace.” Rhaenyra said as she stood from her chair. “Sometimes the most impulsive decisions lead to the best outcomes.” She had a smirk playing in her lips.

“You sound as if you speak from experience, Princess.” Alicent spoke in a thinly vailed accusation looking at Rhaenyra’s protruding belly.

“An astute observation.” Rhaenyra cradled her stomach. “But that’s all there is to it.” She stepped away from the desk.

“Have a good day, my Queen.” She said with disdain and made her way out, leaving Alicent alone.

She sighed and wished her father was there, she felt control slipping through her fingers with each passing day. All she could hope for was that Aegon’s impulsiveness proved to be fruitful in time.

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[ask-funnybunnydoll]

Hi!

I think I have to move on.

You may have noticed that all of a sudden my posts have become less and less frequent. That's not on purpose I simply don't have the motivation to keep this ask blog going. I made this blog at the peak of my TADC hyperfixation because I knew it would give me the boost to work. At the start I made like, what? 2 a day, wowzas! Then it became like every other day posts. It's not that I don't enjoy the blog, the ship, the asks. Hell, the asks were the best part of this, I love just seeing what you guys come up with for these three and I get to do the even more fun part of drawing the answer.

But I still have no motivation to keep this going. And I have fixated on something else if you follow my main.

So, thank you for being here and still liking my posts even if I hadn't posted often. This was the most fun I've had and being my first ask blog I ever created just makes it more important to me.

I probably won't ever revive this blog but I'll keep it open for you. And if you want to see what the story I originally planned out was gonna be then check below the cut! Or if you wanna stay curious and theorize then just scroll by. Thank you again, hope ya have a great day and year. I hope my shit was at least okay to you.

I'm not gonna lie. Most of the stuff was just created along the way of drawing. I was like, huh this would be cool let's add that in. And ofc I didn't get to any juicy lore in this but it would've been rushed because I didn't plan beforehand... which you probably could tell xd

For Pomni, here's the plot twist: she's dead and her conscience was updated into the game to keep her somewhat alive. She worked in the place that created the game, she even took part in putting people in there. The entire game was just an expirement to test if immortality was possible, but of course.. everyone goes insane in there so they have to keep on and keep on trying with more and more people to get anywhere. They wait until someone goes to edge of absolute insanity and that's when they take them out of the game, their bodies are still kept alive and they go back to normal. They forget everything that happened while in the game. For Pomni she died just after her conscience was converted to the game, for others they were forced to go while alive. Who killed Pomni? Well, her boss, the head of the experimentation. Why? Idk 😭

For Jax, I gave him a dark story. He was isolated in his home and kept away from the outside world, which is why he lacks empathy, because he simply doesn't know how to feel that way when he never really had knowledge of emotions outside or even inside his home. His father was emotionally and physically ab4sive so.. that didn't help. He latched onto his mother the most but they never saw eachother often. That's all I had for him in mind.

For Ragatha, she lived in the country on her own land with her husband. Yup! She had a husband and a daughter too. Husband was a total jerk and she couldn't leave because she didn't want their kid to experience separated parents. She's a doll in the game because it resembles the doll she made for her daughter.

I also had some plot that I made up in my mind. Like.... Pomni at the end would be the last one alone in the digital circus. That being since she's dead she would just be yknow. Dead if she left the game. Jax and Ragatha leave but only because Pomni forces them. Again don't know how, I probably would have made it up while I went along with the story. So, Pomni is just there alone, with Caine. And she lives like that for eternity. She doesn't go insane anymore and it isn't as lonely as it used to feel like. It would feel like home kind of. But she would be there, longing for her partners forever unless she decides one day to just. Yknow, die..

Also since Jax and Ragatha would forget everything after they leave the game, they just don't remember they were in a relationship and would live their lives like before. Sad and lonely.

Goodness, I forget I make the most sad stories ever sometimes 😭

[calitsnow]

Let’s talk about Hong Lu’s siblings:

Canto VII provides us with a really good amount of lore on Hong Lu. And to be fair it’s pretty normal since he’s the next one to have a therapy session after Don, so it’s only natural that things are speeding up on his side, and what an acceleration it is, as we’ve had the chance to meet a new member of his family. While we’ve already encountered Jia Huan and heard a few mentions here and there of other members of his family (his father, grandmother, and so on), we hadn’t been introduced to a single family member since Canto I. And honestly, fair enough, because even though the Jia family seems large, they also seem very distant from city life, as it feels like no one knows them, or at least no one recognizes Hong Lu, even people in important positions within the family.

But the most interesting part of this encounter is that we’ve now had confirmation, apparently, that Jia Baoyu’s cousins have become siblings for Hong Lu (who is supposed to be Jia Baoyu), and another small detail is that Project Moon didn’t let Hong Lu’s little sister and her bodyguard use his name. Indeed, Hong Lu doesn’t hesitate to say Xichun’s name, but she, on the other hand, simply calls him “brother,” “my naive brother,” while Wei calls him “young master.” So it’s still possible that Hong Lu is not his real name.

With that, I think it’s time for me to make a post recapping Jia Baoyu’s cousins and siblings to help those who haven’t read the novel (and those who have, because oh boy, this family is so big, it’s easy to get lost among the different branches).

This post aims to introduce the various cousins of Jia Baoyu by briefly giving some info about them. If you’re interested, I also made a post about Baoyu’s family members, including his grandparents, parents, uncles and aunts (by blood, not marriage), and his brothers and sisters just here.

For this post, I’ve decided to talk about each of Jia Baoyu’s cousins in order of birth (from the oldest to the youngest) to help figure out where they might stand in relation to Hong Lu, if Project Moon has kept the birth order (Xichun seems to confirm it, but Jia Huan seems to contradict that, so we’ll see…).

Even though I’m not sure of the exact birth order I’m using (I am not even sure there is a 100% clear one, I’m 99% sure about their placement in relation to Jia Baoyu, knowing whether they are older or younger than him. This is the most interesting part, as this information will help us figure out who can be considered an older brother/sister to Hong Lu and who can be considered a little brother/little sister.

That’s also why, even though I’m not explaining again Jia Baoyu’ siblings, I’ve still placed them in this birth order ranking to help with orientation, especially in relation to Jia Baoyu.

I realize this post doesn’t help with visualizing the family as a whole, but my posts are more informational and serve to share snippets of the lore from The Dream of the Red Chamber, rather than creating a family tree.

Lastly, it’s worth noting that the Jia family is split into two main branches: Ningguo and Rongguo, two of the most prestigious aristocratic families in the capital. These branches descend from a common ancestor but are managed separately. I will try to indicate which branch each cousin belongs to.

To note:

The Ningguo house is the elder branch of the Jia family, descended from the elder of the two founding brothers. Although it is the elder branch, the Ningguo house is in decline in terms of wealth and influence compared to the Rongguo branch. Jia Zhen and other members of this branch are often involved in immoral behaviors, which further contributes to the decline of this part of the family.

The Rongguo house is the younger branch, founded by the second brother of the Jia family. It is more prosperous and influential than Ningguo, mainly due to the connections made by Jia Yuanchun, the daughter of Jia Zheng, who becomes an imperial concubine. This gives the branch an advantage and elevates its social status.

Jia Baoyu belongs to this branch.

Wang Ren:

Apparently, he is the elder brother of Wang Xifeng.

Son of the elder brother of Wang Ziteng, Lady Wang, Wang Zisheng, and Aunt Xue.

Jia Zhen, Ningguo House:

Head of the Ningguo House, the elder branch of the Jia Family. He inherited the title of marquis when his father (Jia Jing) became a Taoist practitioner.

Son of Jia Jing.

Husband of Lady You.

Father of Jia Rong.

Older brother of Jia Xichun.

Jia Baoyu’s oldest cousin.

He is not very focused on work and extremely greedy.

Leads a life of debauchery, preferring to chase women with his cousin Jia Lian.

He had an affair with his daughter-in-law Qin Keping (wife of Jia Rong, Jia Baoyu’s nephew).

Wang Xifeng, Rongguo House:

Also known as Sister Phoenix.

Daughter of Wang Ziteng, Lady Wang, Wang Zisheng, and Aunt Xue.

Wife of Jia Lian.

(yes, she is also his cousin by marriage because her mother’s sister is the wife of her husband’s father’s brother, I know it’s complicated.)

Mother of Jia Qiaojie.

Sister of Wang Ren.

Proud, scheming, and incredibly capable, she manages the Jia family with rigor.

However, she is also vain, greedy, devious, and cruel.

She always blames others and takes all the credit for herself.

Her life ends due to a serious illness, and her ruined family eventually disperses.

She is the second person that Aunt Zhao (Jia Huan’s mother) tries to kill (besides Jia Baoyu) using black magic.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jin Lin.

Jia Lian, Rongguo House:

First son of Jia She (the older brother of Jia Baoyu’s father, Jia Zheng).

Husband of Wang Xifeng (Sister Phoenix).

(Yes, she’s also his cousin by marriage since her mother’s sister is the wife of his father’s brother, I know it’s complicated.)

He also has a concubine (Second Sister You).

Father of Jia Qiaojie.

Half-brother to Jia Yingchun and Jia Cong.

He bought an official title but has some shady activities.

He is a notorious womanizer and has a strong sexual appetite.

His marriage with Wang Xifeng is only for appearance, and he’s more of a dandy.

He manages the finances and hires people with his wife, but they often argue over this power.

He is a frivolous man with flaws, but he still has a conscience.

Jia Zhu, Baoyu’s older brother (deceased):

Already covered in the previous post

Jia Yuanchun, Baoyu’s older sister, Rongguo House:

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jin Lin.

She is the first of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Already covered in the previous post

Xue Pan:

Son of Aunt Xue

Husband of Xia Jingui (wife who seems to have caused many troubles for the family)

Older brother of Xue Baochai

His father died when he was very young, and as a result, his mother indulges him excessively.

He is the opposite of his sister but holds a genuine respect for her.

Nicknamed the “Stupid Despot.”

He leads a leisurely life and enjoys beautiful landscapes but also a dissolute lifestyle, including his attraction to men.

Arrogant, he relies on the powerful ones to bully others.

He has committed several murders as a result of fights and resolves his issues with money.

He is a typical thug and was a local bully in Jinling City, where the Xues came from.

Jia Baoyu, Hong Lu is here :D

Jia Yingchun, Rongguo House:

An extramarital child and the only daughter of Jia She (Jia Baoyu’s uncle).

Half-sister of Jia Lian.

She is honest but timid.

Yingchun is kind-hearted but lacks willpower and is described as having a “listless” personality, indifferent to worldly affairs.

Although she is beautiful and cultured, she does not possess the intelligence or quick wit of her cousins.

Her most notable trait is her refusal to intervene in family matters.

She marries an imperial court official, in a desperate attempt by her father to restore the declining fortune of the Jia family.

After her marriage, she becomes a victim of domestic violence and is ultimately killed by her husband, a general.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

She is the second of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Jia Cong:

Youngest son of Jia She and Lady Xing

Younger brother of Jia Lian and Jia Yingchun

To be honest I don’t have anything else on him and I only put him here because he appeared in the Jia Family’s tree

Shi Xiangyun, Rongguo House:

Granddaughter of Grandmother Jia’s brother (the Dowager’s brother).

Daughter of Shi Ding.

Favorite of Grandma Jia.

Her connection with Baoyu is strong, causing initial jealousy from Lin Daiyu, but they later become close.

She is exceptionally beautiful and is described as a tomboy, androgynous, dressing like a man and enjoying eating meat and drinking.

She was raised by her uncle after the death of her parents.

Orphaned, she remains optimistic, joyful, and full of humor despite a difficult life filled with tedious tasks like embroidery.

She embodies liveliness, naivety, optimism, and naturalness.

Very talented in poetry, she is almost as skilled as Lin Daiyu and Xue Baochai. She is part of the Crab Flower Club.

She will become a widow after her marriage.

One of the memorable scenes in the novel is in Chapter 62 when Xiangyun gets drunk and falls asleep among the flowers in the Prospect Garden, surrounded by butterflies.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

Xue Baochai, Rongguo House:

Daughter of Aunt Xue.

Wife of Jia Baoyu.

(Yes, she is also his cousin by blood since her mother is the sister of Jia Baoyu’s mother.)

Sister of Xue Pan.

She is a calm, distinguished, social woman with a pleasant, tolerant character, in contrast to Lin Daiyu.

She is the only one whose talents could rival Lin Daiyu’s and is described as very skilled in poetry.

She receives praise throughout the Jia household and helps Lady Wang with household management.

At the same time, she is very calculating.

Her wishes are fulfilled when she marries Jia Baoyu (as the perfect wife) and bears him a son, but she will remain alone in the end as her husband becomes a monk and disappears.

Her marriage is seen as a maneuver orchestrated by Wang Xifeng and Grandma Jia.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

Lin Daiyu, Rongguo House:

Daughter of Jia Min (sister of Jia She and Jia Zheng) and Lin Ruhai (a scholar and official from Suzhou).

(She is, in fact, Jia Baoyu’s cousin by blood, as her mother is the sister of Jia Baoyu’s father.)

Known by the nickname “Princess of the Water.”

She is said to be the reincarnation of the Crimson Pearl Flower and has a deep connection to the jade stone (which Jia Baoyu embodies) that helped her when she was a flower.

She has lived with her maternal grandmother (Grandmother Jia) since the death of her father and mother (which is roughly when the story begins).

She is exceptionally beautiful, but her life is marked by chronic illness, which affects her fragile appearance.

She is a haughty, distant, and very sensitive young girl with exceptional intelligence.

More specifically, she is emotional, prone to melancholy and mood swings.

She is particularly vulnerable and often experiences jealousy, insecurity, and loneliness despite her elevated position in the household.

She is highly talented in poetry, and her poems are greatly admired, especially those composed during moments of melancholy, such as when she buries flower petals.

Her love for Jia Baoyu is mutual and is a major storyline in the novel (she is his soulmate, while Baochai represents the ideal social match).

On the day of Baoyu and Baochai’s arranged wedding, she dies after crying all the tears from her body.

While Baochai embodies the virtuous and practical woman, Daiyu represents sensitivity and emotional fragility.

She ranks first among the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

Jia Tanchun, Jia Baoyu’s Half-Sister, Rongguo House:

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

She is the third of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Already covered in the previous post

Jia Huan, Half-Brother:

Already covered in the previous post

Jia Xichun, Ningguo House:

Daughter of Jia Jing.

Sister of Jia Zhen.

When she was little, her mother died, and Lady Wang brought her to the Rongguo Mansion.

She has been a devout Buddhist since childhood.

She is mainly depicted as an adolescent or pre-adolescent in the story.

She is a cold woman who always keeps her distance in human relations.

An excellent painter, she is tasked with painting the Prospect Garden for Granny Liu.

The death of the matriarch, the looting of the Prospect Garden, and the family’s expropriation shake her life and drive her to convert to Taoism.

She is one of the 12 Beauties of Jinling.

She is the fourth of the quartet of "Springs”, The quartet of springs is the name given to 4 of the Jia daughter

Voilà! I hope this post will be useful and if i ever made a mistake do not hesitate to notify me :) and I’ll finish this post by saying that apparently Hong Lu would have 15 siblings (14 if we don’t count the one who is dead at the beginning of the novel)