#also him not being there for the birth?? like?

[dcxdpdabbles]

Am going feral for Danny's grill, I'm salivating for another part, perhaps the batfams reactions to Tim's theory of Danny being fae and just "ohh oh that tracks, that tracks a little too well, but atleast he's a nice fae? Also I vainly remember Constantine drunkenly complaining about a pariah being a bitch king so maybe Danny is actually fae royalty which is why he can afford to be nice??"

Sry for rambling ♡

Tim's investigation updates are alarming, to put it nicely. Bruce can't say he's thrilled by how his son discovered a new Fae court or that his son is now untraceable within the said court.

He would think Tim was missing if it weren't for the reports he finds at family information locations. Thankfully, the fae seemed benevolent—at least for now.

Bruce would be the first to admit that he did not like how, out of all his kids, Tim always seemed to get involved with the oddest of missions.

Reading the Young Justice reports always gave him a headache- baseball game for the plant? Accidentally killed Santa Claus?!? - So, he not only figured out a Fae had appeared in Gotham but also ate the food the Fae offered him? Yeah, that was his Tim.

Bruce had picked up Tim's progress reports before anyone else. His other children were focused on a missing person case and their own cases.

Bruce figured that as long as Tim was treated right, he could spend time searching for a way to get his son home safely without worrying about the others. He has spoken with every member of the Justice League Dark, interviewed any god or goodness in the Justice League, and done extensive research on Faes themselves.

Almost everything had given him the same result: A human could be returned from the Other World only if the Fae allowed it.

It's not impossible to trick a Fae into releasing Tim, but it must be delicately done. Those types of beings rarely forgive and never forget.

He had planned for this to happen to him long before he became Batman—after all, he knew those creatures were real after learning of Aliens—but each of his plans to escape the Fae had an "It's alright if I die" in progress.

He could not apply those plans to Tim, as he did not care if his son lived.

He was replaying his interview with John Consitiante- seeing as that man had a lot of practice swinging his soul as a bargaining chip- when Jason came stomping down the stairs.

"I can't find him!" He swears, throwing himself in a computer chair with a huff. Bruce lowers the volume on his computer, making a sound in the back of his throat. It's the usual noise he makes to convey to his children he is listening and is curious about what is upsetting them

Jason, easily able to understand his sounds now, ranks a hand through his hair with a scoff. "The favor one of my contacts called in. Alvin Draper. I can't find anything on him before my contact took him in"

"Could be a fake name," Bruce offers, typing into his search engine some keywords John spilled in his drunken state. He reads over the runes that pulled up while considering Jason's words. "He gave your contact his name in the same breath as his work. He would unlikely have trusted him that much, so he creates a false name to cover up his street name, which he only gives to customers. His birth name is even less spoken."

"Yeah, I thought the same, so I took the initiative to look at anyone working in his usual areas. Some working girls who answer to me have also asked around. Anyone even remotely matching the description has been tracked down and kept safe, but none were the target. I've even had the others look into it just in case the few corner boys didn't trust Red Hood would be more forthcoming with information. Nothing. Zip. Nada! I'm not an amateur, Bruce. " Jason snarks and Bruce fights off the wave of pride. Of course, his children were able to do all that without him. His kids were incredible at their work.

"No one has seen or heard of Alvin within the industry. If he's a corner boy, he's a private one. Those are the worst because it usually means the clients are crazy powerful and extra careful to not be seen."

Bruce pauses, mind rushing at lightning speed. "Power, not seen and....does this Alvin Draper happen to work on these streets?"

He pulls up a map with various colored dots on it. Bruce had been carefully tracking down where Tim and his Fae had been going through. Tim mainly stayed at the Fae's manor but was allowed to go out to work. One of the reasons Bruce truly believed it was benevolent.

If he ignored the information in the packages, it seemed like Tim was taking some personal time off. His other children surely thought so. They all just laughed at the fact Tim was not about but was still solving the most cases out of all of them.

It was primarily remote work, which Bruce didn't mind. Tim needed a vacation from Red Robin and Wayne Enterprises' CEO.

"Yes!" Jason gasps, leaning towards the map. "How did you find all the targeted areas? My contact said Alvin moved almost every night."

Bruce weighs his options before carefully admitting. "It wasn't my intention to get Alvin's area. I have been tracking a new Fae court that followed these paths."

There was a significant pause before Jason asked with great patience. "There is a what in Gotham?"

"A Fae."

"...Okay, and how long has this been in our city?"

"About two months now."

Jason takes a deep breath. He reaches around Bruce to press the communications line, which he presses four times. At once, the cave is filled with the noise of his children going about their night- either in or out of costume.

All but Tim, since he is still within the Fae's castle. It's a setback that Bruce can't find the castle, even after Tim tells him exactly where it is with coordinates.

He assumes that he, as a human, has no access to the building. Nothing on his computers or tests proves that there is a building there, but Tim swears that's where he's been.

"We have Faes in Gotham. B. has known about them for two months," Jason announces, cutting everyone off. The lines go very silent, and Bruce blinks, confused when he can pick up some anger in his children's silence.

"B?" Dick says in that You better tell me everything right now, old man voice. It's the strangely sickly sweet tone he uses that disguises danger.

Bruce is mystified. Why is he angry? "Two months ago, Tim informed me that a stranger had caught his attention and that he was going undercover. He mostly noticed inconsistencies with his target, but it was only after following the suspect home that he realized the man was not human-"

"Father, are you saying a Fae has Red Robin?" Damian interrupted which is unusual. His youngest almost never does that; he's far too polite and disciplined.

"Yes. He's been in his castle the whole time he's been away."

"Did he eat anything the Fae gave him!?" Duke's cries sounded almost hysterical.

"Yes, he has been there for two months. Tim needed to eat."

"RR has been gone for almost three months, B.!" Harper snaps. She was out as Bluebird for the first time in a while. Her college assignments were really cutting into her hero time.

"Is he okay?" Cullen asks quietly. Bruce had always suspected the lad had a crush on his son, flushing deep red whenever Harper brought him over.

"He is fine. Tim has kept contact with me and seems to be thriving with the Fae. I have been working to get the being to give him back without causing him harm."

"That's what all the research you've been doing lately was about?" Barbara demands.

Bruce squints at the screens where voice lines are beside the images of his children. He doesn't know why but understands that even she is cross with him. "Yes."

"Master Bruce, we will be having a conversation later," Alfred hisses- actually hisses, and Bruce feels cold, hard dread slip down his spine. Oh no. Had he done something wrong again?

Should he not mention his theory that Tim and Alvin are one in the same? Would that make things worse or better?

Jason lets loose a series of swears in Spanish. He leans against the table, pitching his voice loud enough that the rest of the Bats can hear him. "Crude, I think the Fae collects people with the same physical characteristics. Tim and Alvin are known as people of the same height, eye color, age, hair color, and even skin color."

Dick, Damian, Duke, and Harper all swear in their own native tounges, which makes Bruce fight the urge to sink down. Yes, it is better not to mention his other theory of Jason's contact being said, Fae.

Not until he has proof, at least.

"Let me guess." Steph chimes in with a sigh. "Tim followed the Fae because he's pretty."

Bruce remains stubbornly silent, but he thinks that Tim finds the Fae or "Danny" quite handsome. Why else would he spend three paragraphs of his report describing Danny's hair?

"I think we all need to come together to work on this," Dick says next, voice taking charge. Bruce's pride and adoration for the children grow a few notches higher when they all agree without thought.

"Who knows what Tim or Alvin are going through."

Meanwhile, Tim sighed as one of Danny's "hired" help carefully worked out some knots in his back. How long has it been since he had a spa day? Too long. "Was that too rough?"

"No, it's the perfect pressure."

"Wonderful. After we are done here, would you prefer a mud bath or a soothing seaweed wrap?"

"Oh, a mud bath for sure."

[floatyflowers]

The Fawn|| Dark! House Targaryen men (Maegor, Aenys, and Aegon II) various x Baratheon Reader

Meagor/Aenys

You are the daughter of Orys Baratheon, Rhaenys decided to take you in hopes of marrying you off to Aenys.

But she passed away before the arranged marriage could be annouced.

Aegon decided to keep you as a ward, and have Aenys engaged to Alyssa Velaryon instead

When Maegor was born, when you were six, you enjoyed playing with him, he reminded you of your dolls, that you treat like your babies.

As you grow up with Aenys and Maegor, you fall deeply in love with Aenys and viewed Maegor as your little brother, nothing more.

Aenys was also deeply in love with you.

But you got heartbroken when Aenys married Alyssa, and even though the first thing Aenys did was head to your chambers to claim that he still loves you.

You refused to continue your relationship with him, because you don't wish to ruin his marriage.

Even when Maegor grew up, becoming strong and skillful despite not owning a dragon.

Every tourney, he would win, you would become the queen of love and beauty.

Of course this is a scandal due to Maegor being already married to Ceryse Hightower which enraged many including Aenys.

After Aegon I passed away and Aenys became king, you were assigned with being a cupbearer.

Maegor didn't like that at all, and proposed to take you as a second wife, but you refused.

So he kidnapped you and forced you to marry him in a traditional valerian way, and when Aenys heard about that, he banished his brother.

Aenys dies, and Maegor returns from the banishment with you and his mother to take the throne, even if you hated the idea.

Yet you are too afraid to show refusal now that you are pregnant.

"I did this to save the realm from being ruled under a weak king just like what happened with Aenys, you must understand that I did it for us "

Aegon II Targaryen

You don't like Aegon for many reasons.

His sexual flirting, or his anger issues that comes out whenever you are with another boy.

Aegon pleaded with his grandfather to marry you to him.

And it worked, and you ended up marrying Aegon, despite both of you being young.

Aegon didn't give up his drinking habits but he gave up messing around with women for you.

And as time goes on you find yourself falling in love with him, especially after giving birth to the twins.

You realize that Aegon didn't have the best childhood, his father ignoring his existence while his mother and grandfather were harsh on him.

So, you tried to give him that love, and it worked as he found comfort in your embrace only.

He even began to reflect that love on Jaehaera and Jaehaerys and later on Maelor when he is born.

But when usurped the throne from his sister, though you pleaded with him not to do it, and he wasn't going to do.

But his mother placed fear in his head, the fear of you getting murdered along with the children after his older sister becomes the queen.

But with that choice, you decided to leave to Storm's End with your children in secret.

However the plan failed, as Aegon had spies around, whom inform him of everything inculding your handmaidens.

He locked you up and took the children away from you.

And when you try to apologize to get to see them, Aegon refused.

He even refused when you admitted that you are pregnant.

"After everything I did for us, for our family, you chose to betray me! You are not leaving those chambers until I die"

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (30)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of death in childbirth, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He believed he heard her screams and moans from afar. When he turned, he was standing in one of the chambers of Dragonstone, his uncle and his nephews sitting beside him around the table, tense.

All the women were with her now.

"How much longer is this going to take?" He asked impatiently, feeling discomfort and a twinge in his stomach at the thought that his niece had suffered in agony for so many hours, trying to bring his offspring into the world.

It was because of him, he thought with pain.

"It's hard to say. Laena's first birth was also difficult. She bore Baela only in the evening of the same day." Daemon said lowly, fiddling with the wine goblet standing on the table in front of him, of which he took a long, loud sip after a moment.

He pretended not to care.

He was trying to suppress his mind with alcohol.

He swallowed hard, glancing down at his fingers, noticing with horror that blood was oozing from the cuticles around his fingernails.

He rose immediately from his seat, horrified when one of the servants stepped into the chamber.

"− Y-Your Grace − you have a son − but your lady-wife −" She mumbled out with difficulty − only after a moment he saw that her trembling hands were all sticky with blood.

Her blood.

He rushed out of the chamber as if in a trance, not hearing his uncle's call, and walked swiftly into the room from which only a moment ago he had heard her howling, her screams, her cries.

Now someone was crying too, but not her − her mother was clutching her face to her body, high-pitched wails and moans coming from her throat as if someone was skinning her.

He didn't even pay attention to the infant, quivering and sobbing loudly in the arms of one of the servants − all he looked at was her face, the face of his wife, drenched in sweat and pale, her lips slightly parted, her gaze blank and distant, her body numb, lifeless.

"− Rheanys −" He muttered, coming up to her quickly, hearing only his own ragged breathing, only the loud pounding of his heart in his chest. He climbed onto the bed, his hand touching her cheek.

It was still warm.

"− Rhaenys, look at me − it's all over now, my sweetest −" He breathed out, not listening to Rhaenyra's moans or cries, recognising that she was merely being dramatic, that his niece was simply exhausted and tired.

Her eyes stared somewhere far ahead of her, the traces of tears still clearly visible on her skin.

Was she calling out for him?

Did she beg him to come, terrified?

Why hadn't he heard anything?

"− Rheanys − look at me −" He mumbled out, feeling like he was choking.

He sobbed in despair, cuddling his face into her soft, fragrant hair, hugging her close as if she were still a child.

She seemed so small to him, so weak.

"− gods, please, not her −"

"− Rheanys −" He exhaled, pulling himself up to sit down, feeling his heart pounding like mad. He looked around, terrified, seeing only darkness, struggling to recognise the furniture and objects around him.

He was in his chamber, in King's Landing.

Alone.

Where was she?

Was all this, their marriage, her warm body snuggled into his, just a dream?

He groaned with despair at the thought, running his hand over his face − he closed his eye and breathed heavily, trying to calm himself, his whole body quivering, his heart pounding like mad.

He hissed, clutching at his eye where the sapphire had been placed, feeling the sudden, sharp pain in his skull that had accompanied him in his moments of greatest fear and horror.

He had never shared it with anyone.

He knew it meant he was weak.

That he cared too much, that he could no longer control neither his feelings for her nor the things that came with them.

He only calmed down after a while, reminding himself that he had sent her a letter, that he had returned to the Red Keep only a few days ago, and that every night he had spent since then had been the same.

He couldn't get any peace since she wasn't by his side.

Since he had spoken of what had happened with his brother.

"− how could you fly to Dragonstone without my knowledge or consent? −" Aegon growled, both of them sitting alone in his chamber.

His brother-king demanded his explanation as soon as he found out that he had returned to the Red Keep.

"− I had no choice − our grandfather wanted to end things in a different way than we had assumed − I had to get them out of there −" He said lowly, hoping for his support in what he intended to do with Larys Strong.

Aegon did not even look at him at his words, his gaze fixed on the dagger he was playing with in his hand.

"− Aegon −" He said impatiently, and his brother lifted his calm gaze to him from which he felt a tightening in his throat, his heart stopped for a moment.

"− you knew −"

Aegon shrugged his shoulders.

"− what would be left if they did not agree? −" He asked more to himself than to him, running his fingers along the steel blade. He ran his hand over his face and closed his eye for a moment, trying to calm himself.

Fuck.

"− her life would be taken by your order too? −" He hissed angrily − his older brother threw him a quick, warning glance.

"− no − I forbade anyone to touch her − she is yours −" He replied in a firm voice not withstanding the objection.

"− I did what I thought was right to protect my children − they agreed to our terms, so let's rejoice and not stir up pointless arguments −" He said impatiently, his jaw clenched in anger at his words.

"− our grandfather told you that they would have died that night anyway? −"

Aegon furrowed his brow and raised his surprised, uncertain gaze at him, as if wondering if he should believe him. He shifted uneasily in his seat and grunted.

"− where do you get this knowledge from? −"

"− Larys Strong − I want his head −"

"− he is our informer −"

"− he has threatened me and my wife − he has let me know that everything is arranged to end the war, no matter what the price − do what you want with our grandfather, but he is to die − this is my price for concealing the truth from me −" He growled, rising from his seat, circling the chamber as if in amok, feeling that his head was filled with chaos.

Was this how she had felt when he had betrayed her?

When he had concealed it all from her?

"− we need to think this through properly − find a reason to bring him to King's Landing −" He muttered, looking down at his fingers, apparently recognising that he could sacrifice one man to appease his wrath and not lose the greatest of dragons in this war.

"− no − 'tis I who will fly to Harrenhal − the sooner the better −" He said impatiently, folding his hands behind him.

"− there is no need for you to get involved − I will give the order −"

"− I want to do it with my own hands −"

Aegon looked at him for a moment in thought.

"− have you been so madly in love with her all this time? −"

He stopped, looking at him over his shoulder, shocked, feeling a wave of shame surge through his body.

He didn't know what he should answer.

Aegon snorted under his breath, shaking his head.

"− you've always been a poor liar − whenever someone uttered her name you got up from the table and left, as if you did't spend your evenings fucking yourself with your hand thinking of her −" He sneered, crossing his legs, spreading himself comfortably in his chair.

"− am I wrong, little brother? −" He asked softly, cocking his head in curiosity.

He sighed heavily when he was answered by his silence.

"− what did Daemon say? −"

He grunted in relief that he had changed the subject, his heart pounding like mad.

"− he is vigilant − he does not believe me or you − but he will not oppose Rhaenyra − and she loves her daughter −"

Aegon hummed under his breath and nodded thoughtfully.

"− there is nothing more dangerous than the love of a parent for his child −"

Aegon ordered him to stay in King's Landing for a few days to avoid arousing anyone's suspicions before he set off again for Harrenhal, and he agreed to this not willingly. Later that day his mother visited him in his chamber, throwing herself into his arms.

"− I thought I would never see you again −" She muttered, her familiar, pleasant scent of floral oils filling his nostrils.

"− mother −" He replied, placing a hand on her back. Alicent pulled away from him, looking at him with excitement and fear.

"− is it true? − Rheanyra agreed? −" She asked, and he nodded. A loud sigh of relief left her lips, her hand on her heart, a shy, girlish smile on her lips.

"− gods − maybe all is not lost yet −"

He had no peace night or day, thinking only of her and what would happen if she did not bear him a child as well as what might happen if she had to carry his heir under her heart.

The stories that he had heard about his father's first wife, and her grandmother, rattled around in his head, the sight of the white-haired woman with a slit lower abdomen haunting him and not letting him sleep a wink.

He was terrified.

However, he knew that before he set off for Harrenhal he had to face the person he feared most.

His grandfather.

He had managed to persuade Aegon to control him, but he feared that once he was out of the Red Keep, his grandfather would continue his plan behind their backs.

He could not allow that to happen.

He visited him on the morning before his journey to Harrenhal. Already dressed in his riding attire, he stood before him − his grandfather cast him a lazy, surprised look from above the book he had just been looking through.

"− Aemond − what brings my grandson here? − how was your visit to Dragonstone? −" He asked softly, as he always did when he was playing with another person, pretending that there was no subtext in his words.

He hated him for doing it, forever mocking him and Aegon.

He only showed concern for Helaena, because he couldn't use her any more than he already did.

"− I've been thinking a lot lately, grandfather − about my mother −" He began lowly, standing upright before him with his hands folded behind his back, knowing exactly what he wanted to say to him.

Otto raised his eyebrows, intrigued, spreading himself comfortably in his chair, crossing his legs.

"− indeed? −" He asked teasingly, as if he were speaking to a small, unaware child.

He decided not to react.

"− marriage has opened my eyes to many things that did not previously occupy my head − a husband's duties to his wife and what they mean were as distant to me as Essos until I experienced them myself −" He hummed, turning his head away, looking into the distance, at the sea reaching the horizon stretching beyond the great bay.

"− I cannot imagine a woman more helpless and vulnerable than when she lies beneath her husband, at his mercy − my wife then looks at me with trust and warmth, her body welcomes me with ease − but tell me, grandfather − how old was my mother when you ordered her to seduce my father? −" He asked coolly, looking at him − his grandfather furrowed his brow, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"− she was of an age suitable for marriage −" He replied indifferently. "− are you now going to lecture me on the raising of my children? − my decisions concerning her future? − she became a Queen −"

He snorted at his words, his lips parted in a mocking smile, revealing his teeth.

"− did you ever imagine it? − my old father with big, rotting wounds, lying on top of your daughter, and my mother? − I imagined that such a man would try to take my wife − I would kill him, even if he were her rightful husband −" He hissed, and Otto laughed, as if he had never heard a greater foolishness.

"− indeed? − do you think you understand how it is? − as far as I know, you and your beloved wife have not yet conceived your offspring − who knows if you will ever succeed − the will of the gods is impenetrable −" He said with a sneer, from which he felt his blood begin to boil in his veins, his hands involuntarily clenched into fists.

"− what did it feel like to sit on the Iron Throne while my father babbled stupefied by poppy milk? − was it in those moments that you felt it was worth it? − what did you truly sacrifice? −" He asked, answering him with a mocking sneer. His grandfather rose from his seat, furious, clearly trying to control himself.

"− everything −"

He laughed at his words, shaking his head.

"− no, grandfather − WE have sacrificed everything for you − my mother, my brother-king, Helaena and me − but if you think I will sacrifice my wife for you, you are sorely mistaken − one more misstep like this, one more move behind my back and you will go back to where you came from −"

"− how dare you threaten me − you owe me everything −"

"− no − YOU owe us everything − without us you are nothing, my Hand of the King −" He hissed, turning away tense, leaving his chamber with a slam of the door.

What could he do to him?

Kill him?

Deprive his brother of his dragon rider?

He prayed his words would cause him to refrain from further action, but he feared his grandfather would do something they would all regret in fear of losing power.

Even if a part of him truly protected his family, the other part always wanted the crown.

Always.

He had destroyed his mother by giving her to an old, dying man who called her by his dead wife's name, humiliating her over and over again.

He watched her endure her fate for years with humility, believing that the gods would one day reward her for her patience and sacrifice, for her devotion and care, the heavens, however, never answered her prayers.

As she locked all her desires deep within her heart, Aegon let them out completely, allowing them to cloud his vision for years.

He could not decide if what their grandfather had condemned them all to was dictated by care, or merely his unquenchable thirst for power.

He saw hope, however, in the fact that where Daemon and Otto refused to step down, Rhaenyra and Aegon were showing signs of common sense. Although there was much doubt in him, he believed that there was a way forward that did not lead to the complete destruction of their lineage.

He set off for Harrenhal at the head of a small troop of soldiers whose mission was to capture Larys' spies in Harrenhal and the Eyrie.

He wished to deal with Lord Strong personally.

To his surprise and frustration, he found the fortress deserted and surrendered − Lord Strong had fled, hiding somewhere, taking several servants and all the gold with him.

He felt like a fool standing in the empty stronghold looking at the terrified figures of the lord's distant relatives, his servants, farmers and landlords, evidently fearing to face his wrath.

Something else, however, caught his attention.

"Where is Alys Rivers?"

"In the dungeons, Your Grace." Declared one of the men, without raising his eyes at him.

"Take me to her."

He walked down into the underground of the fortress, accompanied by his guards, the clang of their steel armour and weapons all around them. They pointed their torches at one of the cells, and only after a moment did he recognise in the woman lying on the stone ground the person who had kept him awake for so many nights.

That fucking prophecy of hers.

"Wake up, woman." He commanded coldly, stepping closer to the steel bars. Indeed, he saw in the darkness the green of her eyes when she suddenly lifted her eyelids, her face and hands all bruised.

He had the impression that she had lost weight − she was pale, her eyes all red, her hands were trembling. She rose slowly, looking at him curiously, and grinned in a way that sent a shiver through him.

"Leave us alone." He said to his guards, and they nodded and obediently went back upstairs.

He only spoke to her when he was sure they could not hear him.

"Why did you lie? I could have your head for this." He hissed, his hands clenched into fists, his heart pounding like mad.

He needed to hear it from her.

The woman laughed weakly at his words, shaking her head with amusement.

"If there were no capacity for treachery in you, my words would not frighten you, Your Grace. But it wouldn't be the first time you've stabbed her in the back, would it?" She sneered, making his jaw clench tightly in rage.

Will you stab a dagger into my heart?

He was embarrassed and bitter that he didn't know what to answer.

She played him like a little child, making a fool of him.

"Why?" He growled feeling that he was red with embarrassment.

Alys Rivers shrugged her shoulders.

"My brother reckoned that after what was going to happen in the Eyrie she would try to take her own life again. I don't consider myself a good person, but I'm not heartless. I wanted you to be horrified by my words and get her as far away from here as possible."

"How dare you manipulate me and my wife."

"I didn't manipulate her. There was no need for that. You. Your pride wouldn't allow you to listen to the advice of a bastard woman, on top of the Strong line. A witch's prophecy that could give birth to your bastard child would be a different matter. Wouldn't it?" She asked, cocking her head curiously, her luscious green eyes shining uneasily in the darkness making him feel a cold sweat run down his neck.

He had never been so ashamed before, his stomach and throat squeezed so tightly that he had trouble breathing.

"Whose fucking side are you on, you insolent whore?" He hissed through clenched teeth, filled with humiliation and hatred, thinking that he would most like to tear her apart.

Her grin full of amusement made him breathless with rage.

"I am on my side. But my cold heart supports your wife. She has broken deep into it and refuses to leave it. I'm certain you understand me. Such a sweet girl."

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" He shouted low, his voice echoing powerfully around them.

Only after a moment did he realise he was panting heavily, his heart pounding like mad.

How could he possibly feel jealousy now?

He turned on his heel, recognising that she could have died of hunger and thirst in there, that he didn't care that Larys had probably locked her in there because she had warned his wife.

He couldn't bear that she, a stranger, had done something for her that he couldn't.

She had sacrificed herself for her.

That night he did not sleep a wink; he waited to hear from his wife and from his commanders whether they had found Lord Strong yet.

It seemed to him that every time he tried to do something right, everything fell apart in his hands.

He didn't know why, but it made him want to cry at the thought.

It was only in the morning that he was relieved − one of the servants brought him a message from Dragonstone, which he opened as soon as he was alone in his chamber.

I am alive, my husband, and I am in good health. Do not fret, I know I am safe here. I ask you, whatever you intend to do, not to take the life of Alys Rivers. I am owed a debt to her and her death is not my desire. Return to Dragonstone as soon as you can. Rhaenys

He breathed a sigh of relief as he read her words again and again, feeling that warmth was beaming from them, that her anger at him had already fled slowly. He ran his finger over the letters her hand had written thinking about her, about how much he needed her now, how lonely he felt.

Whether he wanted to or not, not wanting to cause another argument between them, he ordered that Alys Rivers be locked in her chamber and that food be served to her.

He did not want to see her, but wished to respect his wife's wishes.

He wrote back to her message right away, wishing it to reach Dragonstone as soon as possible.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

He ordered his letter to be sent immediately and waited, spending days pondering and discussing with his soldiers, searching the forests and strongholds of nearby lords, trying to find the man who in his eyes was a lousy rat.

He suspected his grandfather had managed to warn him, and felt furious that they had played him like a child.

Never before in his life had he wanted to kill another human being so badly.

Not even Luke.

However, one morning he was awakened by something that sent him into a state of terror − he pulled himself up on his bed when he heard the roar of dragons in the distance, the sweeping flap of their wings as they flew over the fortress like a great shadow.

He rose quickly, walking over to the window and laughed under his breath, involuntarily smiling with wonderful, overpowering relief as he saw the slender beast with silver-blue scales shimmering in the sunlight land next to the fortress.

As soon as he saw that the figure of the dragon rider had slipped off its back he turned, put his boots on his feet and walked out of his chamber disregarding his inadequate attire, linen shirt and breeches, running quickly down the stairs to meet her.

His wife.

[vidavalor]

Odegra and The Language of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu

Let's decode Disco Tony's hilarious work presentation. On the known history of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu under the cut.

Right, so, a few of you have requested word nerdery on the Odegra scene so here we go... For a refresher, here's the dialogue with the wordplay-significant bits that we'll look at bolded:

Crowley: So, thanks to three computer hacks, selected bribery, and me moving some markers across a field one night, the M25 London Orbital Motorway, which was supposed to look like this, will, when it opens in 1986, actually look like this [shows a terrible picture of, more or less, the same thing lol] and represent the dread sigil 'Odegra' in the language of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu. 'Odegra' means 'Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds.' Can I hear a wahoo?

[Some of the demons have enough energy to half-boo; most just continue to sit there looking miserable. Of all of them, only Beez looks like they might be getting how bullshit this all is and, either way, they still have no idea what Crowley is actually saying and really couldn't care less.]

Crowley: Once it's built, the millions of motorists who grumble their way around it are going to be like water on a prayer wheel grinding out an endless fog of low-grade evil that will encircle the whole of London. [Hastur raises his hand with a question.] Yes, Duke Hastur?

Hastur: What's a computer?

---

A lot of the humor of the scene comes from the fact that, unlike the demons, we know that a word as short as 'Odegra' cannot possibly mean something as long as 'Hail The Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds'... and 'Odegra' isn't a word familiar to many of us in the first place, adding to the feeling that Crowley is b.s.-ing the demons. The scene ending with Hastur asking for a definition of 'computer'-- basically, the first word Crowley said in what we see of the presentation lol-- exists as the punchline to the presentation and the scene as a whole, showing us that Crowley is correct in believing that there is no one in the room who can really tell that he's playing them.

Still, we know that language is a big thing on Good Omens (and that's an understatement) and Crowley is saying something... so, can we use the rules of Ineffable Husbands Speak that we've been looking at to figure out what, exactly, Crowley might be saying? Seems we can and, as you'll see, when we do, it becomes apparent very quickly that this presentation to Hell about the highway that Crowley describes as a demonically evil masterpiece exhibiting reverence to Satan and all things satanic is actually about Aziraphale and their world together and Crowley is getting a kick out of watching that fly over the heads of his audience. Crowley definitely performed this presentation for Aziraphale at some point, though (maybe rehearsed it a la Aziraphale's magic show?). Aziraphale enjoyed it a great deal more than the demons of Hell did, since it was written to amuse him.

Odegra: Odegra, a word that doesn't exactly exist in this form... but that Crowley didn't entirely make up either. Professional midwife that he is, Crowley used rules of human language to birth it into existence from a pre-existing word. If odegra did exist (and, honestly, Crowley using it and it being in Good Omens means it now does exist in both his and our worlds), it would be derived from the only word like it that does exist-- the Polish odegrac. What's hilarious is that odegrac means... to get one over on someone (not kidding lol)... as well as: to put on a performance and to play act a role.

So, the word Crowley is claiming means something in an ancient human language that doesn't exist is actually a word he made up that is of a word that does exist... and that word means to fool someone, to put on a performance, and to act a part. That is both how Crowley performs "demonicness"-- with the Odegra scene itself a perfect example-- and also how Crowley and Aziraphale behave performatively together in public to fool Heaven and Hell and hide their relationship.

Additionally, performance and act are words that can be, on another level, sexually euphemistic, and Crowley and Aziraphale both use act in that way in the Chateauneuf-de-Pape scene of The Blitz, Part 2. It somehow gets even better, though, because hiding their relationship is not the only reason why they have a secret language. Another way Odegra can also be defined gets into that and that's when we take into account how their wordplay is big on the words contained within words-- something used not just in their language but in the show itself, beginning with, as we've looked at in other metas, its opening shot of the word 'war' within the word 'warning'.

Odegra contains ode and gra. An ode is a lyrical poem and a poem is wordplay. Odes are specifically written in tribute to someone or something. That is what they're doing when they use their secret birdsong and why they use it when alone in addition to in public; its born both out of the need to be able to speak to one another in a coded way when they might be overheard and out of flirtation and combines the two. One of the most famous odes in existence is Keats' "Ode to a Nightingale," which is also a word that we have seen that they use as shorthand for their language and for how they feel about each other.

As for the gra part of Odegra? It's a Polish word for game (as in, to play a game... like, say, a wordplay game.) But, also...

...gra is an Irish word for love.

Odegra, in Ineffable Husbands Speak, actually means secret love language.

Some demons torture and murder-- Crowley hijacks plans for Freeways of Love out of transportation-related innuendo amusement, remakes them into a soppy apple-heart-looking thing for his boyfriend, and passes them off as an evil work assignment, ok? 😂

The M25 in image forms "the dread (a subtle suggestion for the demons in there *snicker*) sigil Odegra in the language of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu" aka Nightingale Speak/Odegra/Whatever They Actually Call It, if they call it anything at all... what we've been calling Ineffable Husbands Speak. For why Crowley is jokingly referring to their secret language in this way, let's start with Mu...

If, in the GO universe, dinosaurs basically don't exist and The Earth is only a little over 6,000 years old, it's doubtful that there's anything to the Lost Continent of Atlantis, sometimes referred to as Mu or Lemuria. Crowley would know, since he's been on Earth since The Beginning and, since he's trolling the demons with this presentation, he's likely pretending that Mu existed, knowing that the demons won't know the difference.

When referring to The Lost Continent idea, Mu comes from Lemuria, which is what the theorized continent was named because it derived as a way of trying to explain fossils of lemurs that were found in spots people didn't think fit with what they knew of history at the time. All of this was discredited scientifically prior to when Crowley is making the presentation but Lemuria is popular with occultists. It sounded satanic to reference it in the presentation, which is probably how Crowley arrived at using it-- but it seems he really did for the demonicness on the surface but for its other meaning on a hidden language level. Mu/Lemuria/Atlantis is not the only definition of Mu and it's really the other one that Crowley is referencing. The Ancient Mu to whom Crowley is really referring is him and Aziraphale-- extremely old beings with a fondness for the other Mu-- the Greek letter that became what we now call today the letter M.

Mu evolved from the ancient Egyptian hieroglyph meaning water and, then, the Phoenician word for water. Anything related to water/the sea/fish, etc.., as we've looked at before, is a sexual metaphor and related to orgasm in Ineffable Husbands Speak, rooted in Aziraphale using oysters euphemistically to ask Crowley to bed for the first time in ancient Rome. The ancient Greeks eventually turned Mu into the letter M, which Crowley and Aziraphale use often and with a lot of intentionality as a word that has existed in basically all languages since the beginning of time: mmm, the sound of human pleasure and satiation, as we looked at in the Crowley & Plosives meta. The Ancient Mu = Crowley and Aziraphale, who are really old, longtime sailors together on The Sea of Mmm.🐟

[An aside but M is also the name of James Bond's boss. Crowley is a big Bond fan and, we speculate, was likely an allied spy during WW2 so maybe there's something in here as well to add to the idea that Crowley influenced Bond a bit.]

Mu has had different pronunciations but the most common one is homophonic for moo, which is the sound of the milk-producing cow. I don't think further detail is really needed on that one...

Mu can also be pronounced at times like the French moue, which comes from an early meaning of lips and evolved into meaning someone pouting. Crowley busts out a moue a lot-- sometimes genuinely, sometimes in jest.

Finally, mu is the Greek root of the word for something Crowley and Aziraphale both enjoy (and both like to speak about euphemistically at times): music.

The Dark Priesthood bit is pure blasphemy. Crowley and Aziraphale are, technically, members of opposing religious orders. Aziraphale is an angel of God, which is more or less akin to a human priest, while Crowley is, technically, a dark priest/diabolical minister. Religious trauma and conflicts for days aside, they're both more pagans of the good times, as Irish God Hozier would call it, with a yen for equating the sexual with the spiritual in their wordplay.

In S2, we have a parallel to the Odegra scene and others like it with entries shown to us in a publication of Hell--'Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings Who Walk the Earth'-- in which Crowley and Aziraphale wrote each other spicy love letters in their language and published them under the noses of Heaven & Hell without anyone ever catching on. In those entries, they both refer to each other using different religious terms (guru, different ancient gods, a particularly 'hot priest' turn through the etymology of bishop...). There's also, of course, that priests in many religions take a vow of celibacy, which then makes it more amusing to refer to themselves as a priesthood in wordplay referring to themselves as lovers.

Etymologically, the word priest comes from the Greek presbyteros, which means elder/old/venerable so, like their use of ancient, it's also something of a play on how they are quite literally older than dirt and also that they've been a thing for awhile now.

In addition to signifying a group, a hood is also both clothing that shields one from the rain and what we call the canopy covering of a car.

Crowley is making it sound in his presentation to the demons that Odegra means something evil and demonic in an ancient language of satanic priests when, really, it's a word he made up for his and Aziraphale's spicy and romantic little language and they're not devil-worshippers but devout members of The Church of The Vavoom.

The Dark Priesthood... Dark is a fun word by their rules because it's a word they could probably say a lot in public since it sounds all demonic but we have seen that their language is built, in part, around words within other words and also uses a lot of French so Dark = Dark and D'Ark. It actually refers to The Ark or is Of The Ark, which we can take as a reference to the events of The Flood. Since The Flood is referenced in S2 in the Job minisode and keeps coming up in other places (and since we've seen precious little of it so far), it's potentially another hint that all that rain-sheltering canopy vavooming Crowley was going on about in S2 was he and Aziraphale during The Flood and that we might see that in S3.

It sounds like if one of them says dark, they're actually referencing-- at least, in part-- The Vavoom kiss. Like Crowley was, on one level of what he said, in 1941:

In the book, the Odegra stuff is the same but for the word dark-- it's The Black Priesthood of Ancient Mu instead. The word black is also in their wordplay in the show, though, and shows up in the same scene in 1941 as Crowley saying "shades of... dark grey." The word black contains the word lac, the substance secreted by an insect that is used as shellac. Lac is also the French word for lake. One of you asked me to word out The Blitz, Part 2's Chateauneuf-de-Pape scene so we can talk more about how Crowley uses black in that scene in that meta down the line. We're actually not yet done with Odegra, though, because...

Odegra also can be pronounced like "Eau de grah." Eau is French for water-- so, it would be "water of grah"/"grah water" when mixing French in. Grah is a fascinatingly Good Omens-y word... In German, it's a variant word for gray. In Slovenian? It means pea. (Frozen peas!) In Croatian? Beans and bean soup. Peas and beans are both seeds, which occur a lot in their speak and are going to be their own meta at some point, since quite a few of you want me to write about the 'Seeds of Destruction' scene in S1. In Hindi and Nepali, it means planet-- akin to world...

The especially damn one, though, is that, in Albanian, grah means *both* to rattle and to roar. Serpents rattle. Lions roar. Crowley is both. Rather hilariously, he even roared as a lion once while shapeshifted into a snake which.... isn't quite to what this wordplay would be referring lol... but it adds additional humor to that scene.

So you say, Crowley... Anyway, lastly, in Sanskrit, grah also means: to seize, to take, and to hold. Mmm...

Hail The Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds:

Hail: Besides hailing someone in the worshipful way Crowley suggests here, there's hail-- hard rain. Within hail: hai, a kind of keelboat and also the word for shark in several languages (Finnish and Estonian, among them) and ail, homophone: ale aka alcohol. You also used to (pre-Uber/Lyft, etc.)-- and can often still-- hail transportation, like a cab... an extra funny pun since it's used during Crowley's M25 presentation.

Great: The original meanings (some of which obviously still exist now) were big, massive, thick, and coarse. Rooted in ghreu, which meant to rub and to grind.

Great: Contains gre and eat. Gre, in Welsh, means all of these: a stud of horses, a flock and a herd. So, there's the horses, ducks, birds and other animals that show up in their speak and the show itself. In the Old French, gre meant pleasure and goodwill and, in Middle English, it meant kindness, understanding and satisfaction. It's also connected to the word gray in Old Scottish Gaelic. The eat bit is self-evident-- a nod to all the food used euphemistically in their speak (and the real food they do enjoy together as well.)

Crowley also uses great in summary of he and Aziraphale in S2 when he dryly tells Maggie how much he and Aziraphale talk-- but uses their language, which she obviously doesn't understand, to do so because, honestly, Maggie telling Crowley that he doesn't know how communicate in a relationship is about the same thing as it would be if Muriel sat him down and said he needed to listen to them when it comes to their superior knowledge of sexual innuendo. It's ridiculous. ("I say something brilliant and he says something unintentionally funny back. It's great." Rill = a stream; tent = canopy, etc..)

The Great Beast... Beast: Contains be, homophone: bee, and east. Bees, as we learned in S2, are angels. Aziraphale is Crowley's angel and The Angel of the Eastern Gate, whose desk is in the Eastern part of the compass bookshop, which is also the direction of the arrow being pointed by the bookshop's Cupid sculpture in S1. The Great Beast = Aziraphale.

"The beast with two backs" has also been euphemistic for sex since the 1500s and was immortalized by Shakespeare in Othello... and, by that, we mean was probably immortalized by Crowley in Othello lol... A beast has also long been a flirty thing to call someone who uses lewd and lascivious language.

GIF by aftermath-meme

Devourer of Worlds:

Devourer: We know what this is lol but just to fine print it here... Devour comes from the Latin devolare, meaning both to swallow down and to accept eagerly. Earliest forms contain the same meanings we have today for the word: to entirely consume; to eat ravenously.

By the early 1600s, devour evolved to also mean to take in hungrily with the eyes. I suppose here is where it might be funny to also point out that both ravenous and swallow are words that are also related to birds.

World: Often relates to the state of existence of human beings. Sometimes used in religious settings by humans to differentiate between the secular world and Earth versus Heaven and the world of the afterlife-- the "worldly affairs" of Earth. Can sometimes refer to the celestial-- "other worlds." The universe is another name for the world-- a system of created things, one started by Crowley and Aziraphale themselves. Also: homophonic for whirled: a swirling of something-- usually, of a mind or of water, like a whirlpool.

A world, though, can just be a person's own life and the people in it, and a romantic way of referring to your partner. You could, for instance, toast the world of the planet you just helped save and also be toasting one another-- your own, mutual, private world-- at the same time, as many of us suspect was the case here:

Crowley also says that the motorists, as they "grumble" along the highway will be "like water on a prayer wheel, grinding out an endless fog of low-grade evil that will encircle the whole of London." There is a bit of wordplay in here as well.

Grumble: Means to complain in a low voice but also originally had the additional meaning of the word within it that evolved into a separate word-- to rumble, as in to make a low, rumbling sound or murmur. While these hypothetical motorists are rumbling their way around The Freeway of Love, they're doing so like water on a prayer wheel.

Crowley knows that not a soul in the room knows what a Tibetan prayer wheel is or what it is meant to do. It just sounds like stuff the demons would think is an appropriately evil way to feel. The other part of the joke is that the term prayer wheel is actually misleading and a mistranslation of the Tibetan. Mantras, not prayers, are put on paper inside the wheel (which is cylindrical, not really even round-wheel-shaped, though it does go around) while a mantra or two is usually printed on the outside of the wheel. It's more about visualization than prayer-- which goes with how this flashback scene is tied to Crowley literally visualizing and willing himself and the burning Bentley through the M25 ring of fire.

It's the height of irony because the idea is that anytime someone turns a prayer wheel and focuses on the positive energy they are generating from doing so and thinking on or saying the mantras it contains, they're actually sending out positive energy to everyone around them. Crowley is giving a presentation in which he's claiming that these motorists on the M25 would be spreading negative energy because they'd be stuck in an exercise as pointless as spinning a prayer wheel when, in actuality, he's thinking about how the grumps in Hell could use some prayer wheels being spun in their direction.

On an euphemistic level, though, Crowley, is in his happy place being metaphorical water on a metaphorical prayer wheel. More sexuality-as-spirituality blasphemy at play with that and also a nod to how a lot of how he and Aziraphale are living is closer in line with Buddhist teachings than with other religions. S2 highlights that a bit, showing both Crowley and Aziraphale employing mudras (both inside and outside of performing miracles) and the lotus flower mandala rug they have on the floor to cover up The Heavenly Zoom of Discorporation, etc...

These motorists will be grinding out (does not need further explanation lol, other than to point out that you also grind seeds/pulses and coffee)...

...an endless fog (fog in a sense of headspace with relation to sex; etymology ties to damp, in a possible nod to the 597 AD scene; endless potentially hinting loosely at edging, which is in another 32 scenes more directly so not really a reach; also: endless, in the sense of viewing how they are and feel as eternal...)

...of low-grade evil (original definition of evil pertained to "sin" and still does-- "low-grade evil" would be akin to mild "sin"; grade repeats gra and also contains ade: as in, a drink made of fruit, like lemonade. Homophones: aid and aide-- so, care and support)...

....that will encircle the whole (both whole, as in: all of, and hole, as in: yeah, I'm pretty sure ya got this one...)...

...of London. London is wordplay, you ask? Oh, yes, seems to be. It's also in 'Demon's Guide...' as well, likely because...

London: contains lon and don. A don, among other things, is the formal Spanish title for a gentleman. Lon is an Irish word for blackbird and a Norwegian one for a gently-flowing creek. (Yes, they are that specific in the definition on the water movement.) The word London as a whole comes from the Proto-Celtic Londinjon, meaning: place that floods and, for a little ocean-themed destructive sexual metaphor fun, the Proto-Indo-European lendh, meaning: to sink.

So that endless fog of low-grade evil will be encircling the whole of London forevermore, thanks to Crowley's demonic design of the M25 orbital motorway. After all of that, it's clear to see why Crowley dryly thought that a wahoo (a positive yay! response but, also, a kind of fish... so, an orgasm) was in order. Some jolly good wordplay, that. Instead, at the end of Crowley's presentation, Hastur asks a question:

"What's a computer?"

In fairness to Hastur, while computers had existed for awhile by the 1970s, they weren't in everyone's houses yet and he didn't get up to Earth that often. (Good on him, actually, for even asking a question in the first place, when most of them didn't.) While the joke exists to highlight the fact that none of the demons got a single lick of what Crowley just said because Hastur's back with a question on what was only about the fourth word of many that Crowley said, there's also that it highlights that Hastur and the other demons lack the language ability to work out, through language comprehension and/or context, what a computer might be. They can't compute what a computer could be, basically.

Crowley and Aziraphale have been on Earth since the start and have been a part of the evolution of language. They understand how it's a living thing. They know the relationships between root words, which many of us also do just instinctively from living, speaking and reading and they do on a level of being walking, talking etymological dictionaries. The angels and demons technically speak all the languages of the world but, because they don't live in that world, they don't really understand language... and they are definitely miles away from Crowley and Aziraphale's capability of playing with it to the point of having created their own language out of the languages of the world.

Hastur's question is the meta joke of the scene and so we're going to finish up here by looking at it, too, even though it's not part of Crowley's wordplay. Ironically for Hastur, the word computer comes from the Latin putare which means, quite literally, to think, as well as to prune, in a way that means to filter and discern information. The 'com' part of it related to the Latin cum, meaning with and together.

What's funny about the question from a Crowley and Aziraphale's language speak perspective is that the reason why Aziraphale must have lost it laughing when Crowley told him what question Hastur asked is because their approach to the word would be to compute it by taking it apart and remaking it into also having a different layer of meaning within their language.

The first bit of com and its connection to cum and to come is something they already use all over the place, for obvious reasons. As for the rest of it... puter, depending on accent, can pronounced as puta, which is derogatory Spanish slang for a woman who has many sexual encounters and/or is a sex worker.

To compute to Crowley and Aziraphale would mean to think and discern, sure, but in Ineffable Husbands Speak, could be used to mean spending some quality time with a fellow seamstress.

So Hastur, who didn't understand much of anything in Crowley's presentation, asked for the everyday English definition of the one word in it that Crowley wasn't using in his sea of wordplay... but which, when used in Ineffable Husbands Speak, would ironically be defined as a short version of exactly what Crowley was on about for the entire presentation.

And this is probably why if you asked Aziraphale in Crowley's presence if he was ever going to get a new computer, he'd likely tell you he prefers to stick with his classic, first gen apple. It's the only one that's ever truly been great.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Ketheric continues to be the member of the Chosen I struggle to get a grip on. Like the other three I can tell you the details of why (I think) they grew up to monsters:

Long post.

-

Let's start with Gortash: spent his childhood being told he was a selfish monster for his thoughts - apparently from birth - for the way he perceived the world, for *checks notes* wanting his parents attention as an undeveloped human being that relies on its parents to survive and thrive.

Then his parents send him to hell as part of a deal. Because that's where monsters go isn't it? They go to hell to suffer eternal damnation because they were monsters in life.

So you grow up in one of the literal cesspits of the universe, where the only people you meet are the literal scum of the universe, or those you're going to learn to see as weak fools who had to rely on others - and were ultimately willing to commit atrocities themselves - who were taken advantage of by the scum of the universe. You get to the Hells by committing atrocities, either because you want something so badly you'll fuck somebody over for it (out of greed, or because you couldn't fix it yourself (weak)) or because you did them of your own volition. And curiously, some of these people had their price tags wrapped in such subtle terms they don't even realise they did anything wrong! Lesson learned; anyone will willingly be a monster if you make the evil sound nice. Every single devil you meet has had the humanity flayed from their soul, and they got to where they are in their existences by fomenting (and committing) hate and rape and murder and everything evil under the sun as a regular Monday morning in the ultimate goal to make the universe an evil place. Devils are also 'self made men', everybody started from nothing as a lemure and clawed their way to where they are now. Every social interaction in the Hells is manipulation and abuse. Everyone there hurts everyone.

But you do have one example of a good person! There's Hope! Lovely lady, kind and sweet... Trapped in hell being abused forever going insane because of it because your ambitious sister fucked you over. That's where trust and love being a good person gets you.

And that was his entire social life. That was the people he had to look to for examples. All his early experiences were limited to a sample of the absolute worst it has to offer, and he has a very skewed view of the universe.

And the fact that he's apparently so damn good at sex a lady gave him a ring worth everything she owns after growing up around a pleasure devil whose role is harming and corrupting people with sex and has built in charm person at etc is not ringing alarm bells(!) I'm not side-eyeing the boudoir at all.

I wonder why having a child/teen spend their formative years in the evil factory literally designed to spit out monsters... spat out a monster? Kudos to Karlach, though: just how many layers of defence mechanisms has she got in her brain?

Gortash's thought processes are 50% through the lens of engineering and 50% through the lens of a devil's perspective to me. People will sell out others for their own gain, because they're too weak to do it themselves or because they're bastards. If you don't get with the programme you're the victim. You only get ahead by being ruthless. Everybody is untrustworthy, and relying on them will get you betrayed. The world is divided into the weak and the ruthlessly strong who take what they want. Yes, he's a monster. And so are his parents. And so is everyone. And then Bane saw this perfect example of his way of thinking and said 'that one.'

-

Orin: obviously we've got grooming. The fact that her formative memories include her mother trying to murder her, and the fact that she feels like the only person who has ever cared about her or supported her is her grandfather. Who is implied to have been raping her, or intending to. All she's permitted is to have her brain poisoned by her faith, which her life revolves around, and then her kin 'does it all wrong' and inherits everything she's been groomed to believe is hers. But no, 'they're not wrong,' says everybody around her 'you are!'

She's a Bhaalspawn, so her relationships with her kin are "kill or be killed," as Helena proved. You will please father by slaughtering your siblings, or you will die - or worse. You must be and stay favoured by Bhaal above all the others to be truly safe ("safe"), and Durge outranking her is a threat to her existence. Actually Durge existing is a threat to her well-being. She has no way to live a life outside the cult, never has and never will. Her life is insanely lonely and mostly consists of paranoia.

But the overlaying theme here is that she's a changeling. She's mirrorkin with no unique physical identity of her own, she can only reflect those of others. To be dnd canon accurate: she has no real facial features, no pigmentation. She's not permitted an identity of her own, and was punished for trying. She's a mirror born and raised to reflect the glory of Bhaal, the glory of her failed grandfather, the rise of Bhaal's favourite child. Never her own. Gee, I wonder why she literally wears people's skins.

Denied the ability to do anything but live according to what she's told, she does her best to live up to it because to fail is to become her parents and the countless aunts and uncles currently enjoying their damnation in the Throne of Blood. And then she's told she's doing it wrong. By everybody. She's a 'rabid dog'. She, despite having doctrine poured into her ears and probably carved into her flesh her entire life 'doesn't understand Bhaal.' And everybody is insanely patronising about it! You're never allowed to be anything but what we tell you to be, but you're still not good enough! Which is death. The Temple of Bhaal needs murder feminism.

-

The Dark Urge is my favourite little nightmare, and I've talked about them at length: much of Orin's trauma also applies to them, although where she's a mirror made to reflect the egos of others, Durge is only allowed one identity: Bhaal's. Where Orin can never seem to reach the standards forced on her, Durge is never allowed to fail to meet them, or else. Every outside connection they ever had was brutally sabotaged, and they've had 'you're a monster and only I (your abusive Father) can love you' drilled into their mind. They hate themself. We got the threat of sexual exploitation (assuming it didn't happen), there's a subtle undercurrent of incest to some interactions. The prayer for forgiveness kind of sums it all up: 'I'm sorry for forming an emotional connection that isn't blind love for you father, but don't fret, I'll destroy it with my own hands just like everything else and then finally get to kill myself just like I've always wanted.'

-

But Ketheric? Like villains don't need tragic backstories to be terrible people, but it does make them more interesting.

OK, so your bio family is fucked up and I definitely get the impression that they sucked (Malus is giving me vibes that say he'd have been a villain anyway, and might've been secretly Sharran to start with; Gerringothe seems to be drowning whatever her issues are in gold), and then the loving family you made for yourself broke: your wife died, and your daughter died, sure. But plenty of people on Toril probably have similar if not the same stories and didn't go evil overlord! Why are you doing this? What is informing these decisions? Why does your existence hinge so much on your dead daughter that your son is basically named after her and you seem to hate him for existing and not being her? Does Shar have something to do with it? Has Ketheric just carved out so much memory and emotion, so much of his own identity, that all that's left is the grief and the hunger for the pain to stop but, as per Shar's intent, it keeps coming back, with less and less positive memories to soften the pain. A wound that festers and never heals. Is the obsession with Isobel because she's the icon of everything that was good in his life, and her loss was the moment everything good was gone? Was he a rational man who turned to Shar to stop the pain in a moment of understandable grief and rage at her sister, and then was trapped in a cycle that destroyed everything that was good in that man until we get the General?

Just guess working my way through his entire backstory...

[starogeorgina]

𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole x reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut, child birth

1.03

You blink away unshed tears as you stare up at Ser Harwin; the look on his face was earth-shattering. No traces of anger or bitterness could be detected on his handsome face; the softness in his eyes made you feel nothing but guilt. You should never have believed the rumors, given into your husband's taunting or gone near Criston Cole.

You’re unaware that you’re crying until Harwin wipes them away with the pads of his thumb. “Prince Daemon told me your news; congratulations, princess.” He leans forward and kisses your forehead, and in a quiet voice, he says, “He also told me what he said to you. I wish I’d known sooner.”

Ser Harwin wasn’t a fool; he knew his beloved princess’s outburst of believing the rumors surrounding him and Princess Rhaenyra being true hadn’t come from thin air, but he had no idea Daemon was the one behind it. The Targaryen prince thrived in chaos, but after causing so much damage, the knight was grateful to be away from the keep for some time; otherwise, he might have done something to get himself executed.

“Do you forgive me?”

Harwin sighs, “There’s nothing to forgive. It was a misunderstanding.”

Pouting, you shake your head. “I should never have doubted you... henujagon īlva, valzȳrys.” (Leave us, husband.)

You wait until you hear Daemon leave; he didn’t need to be involved in your conversation, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to resist if he was within earshot. You take Harwin’s large hand in yours and say, “I love my husband; he’s the other half of me. Targaryens are made to burn together, but I love you too. I don’t know how to explain it; it’s a different kind of love. Since I was a girl, I always knew I’d marry Daemon, regardless of how I felt, but I chose to be with you. You make me feel safe and—”

“What is it you’re trying to tell me?” Harwin wipes away another fallen tear. “I’ve memorized each time you’ve confessed your love to me, which is how I know something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I don’t know whose baby this is. I forgot to drink moon tea after the last time we lay together.”

His blue eyes fill with tears. “Prince Daemon will be the father.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your heart aches a little when Harwin hugs you; he was a good man. A far better person than you, Daemon, or Criston. He wasn’t selfish, violent, or entitled. You only wish you’d never questioned his loyalty to begin with.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.”

—

As the months passed, your body changed, and the gorgeous gowns you had made could no longer hide how large your bump had gotten. Rhaenyra often thought you were carrying more than one baby when your bump first started to swell, but now you were convinced she was right.

Daemon smooths his hand gently over the fabric of your dress, feeling the baby kick beneath. You were comfortable laying on your left side with multiple pillows fluffed around you to keep you in that position. Your husband lay behind you with his face nuzzling into the side of your neck.

“Have you spoken much with Ser Harwin?”

“No,” you say, feeling your lip tremble slightly. “Perhaps it is for the best; the less he is near during my pregnancy, the less people will talk.”

Daemon kisses your cheek. “The baby could look exactly like us, and the Greens would still gossip. I suspect the same will happen with Rhaenyra as soon as she has an heir.”

Your sister and her husband, Ser Laenor, had gone to visit various houses in the realm on behalf of your father, who was too ill to travel the distance himself. Although they had gone on dragonback, a large number of knights, including Ser Harwin, had been sent to protect them. When you confessed your antics with Cole to Ser Harwin, he was mad for a while but insisted he still wanted to be with you; he just needed some time.

“And what if the baby doesn’t look like us?” You knew no matter what, you’d love and protect your child fiercely, but you needed reassurance from Daemon. “I’ve been beyond foolish; I’ve given them the opportunity to make my child’s life miserable before they are even born.”

“I will cut out the tongues of anyone who dares question the legitimacy of our child. Any baby you have will be an extension of you; it would be impossible for me not to love them.” He rubs his hand along your stomach again. “This is my son or daughter growing inside you. Nothing anyone says will change that.”

—

“Princess, it’s time to push again.”

“I can’t! I can’t!” You sob, clutching onto the bed sheets tightly. The pain was overwhelming; you were convinced this is what dying felt like.

“Push!”

The midwives help guide you through the last few pushes until your daughter finally enters the room. She is placed on your chest, and you sob with happiness, “She’s perfect—oh fuck.”

Your daughter is quickly carried away to be cleaned up as the midwife pushes your legs open again. “Time to do this second time, princess.”

—

Daemon hums while gently rocking your daughter Daella to sleep, while your son Gaemon suckles at your breast. They were only a few hours old, but it already felt like you'd spent a lifetime loving them.

“Perhaps when you are feeling up to it, we can pick dragon eggs for the baby’s.”

You smile and say, “That would be nice.”

With Syrax having laid another clutch of dragon eggs, you were on your way to the dragon pit to pick one while being accompanied by your husband and sworn protector, but before you could leave the courtyard, your waters broke. Ser Harwin immediately picked you up and carried you back to your chambers, while Daemon sent for the maester and midwives.

“There, there,” Daemon says before gently placing your daughter into the crib next to your bed.

You smile down at her. Daella shares your pale complexion; her silver hair and the shade of her purple eyes were an exact match for yours. Gaemon got almost all his features from you, like his sister; his skin was pale and his hair silver, except his eyes were a dark brown.

“I think he’s had his feed,” you say when Gaemon stops feeding and his eyelids slowly start to close.

Daemon takes him from your arms so you can readjust your nightgown. He kisses the baby on the forehead. “They really are perfect.”

—

Sitting underneath the weirwood tree, she smiles as Daella attempts to walk along one of the thick roots sticking out of the ground, with your loyal knight Ser Harwin right behind her, ready to catch her the second she slips. Gaemon lays back, his head resting against your legs, as you read a story about dragons out loud. Both eggs had hatched in the cradle, and your children were now getting to the age where they understood how powerful and magical dragons are.

“Careful, princess,” Harwin says softly. “Slow down before you fall.”

Daella grins up at the knight before jumping onto a different root. It wouldn’t be long before curiosity got the better of her, and she attempted to climb the tree.

When screeching comes from the distance, Gaemon points to the sky and says, “Mama, look! It’s kepa!”

You look up and see the Blood Wyrm flying in the direction of the dragonpit. Daemon always made a point of returning from dragon riding before supper time so he could dine with his family. When you lower your gaze from the sky, you are met with the cold gaze of Ser Criston Cole. You often notice the knight observing your son and daughter from a distance, but he makes no attempt to interact with them.

Although Cole would never admit it, you had a feeling he would risk his life for them just as Daemon and Harwin would.

—

Harwin takes one of the pebbled nipples into his mouth while you lean over him, your hands pressing against his chest. Daemon kisses the back of your neck, occasionally nipping at your sensitive skin with his teeth as he thrusts into you from behind. Over time, the three of you had come to an agreement that when the time came and you wished to have another baby, you and Harwin couldn’t fuck as you normally would, eliminating any chances of him getting you pregnant since you wouldn’t be drinking moon tea. But you still wanted to be intimate with Harwin, and your ever-devoted husband came up with an idea.

Daemon’s voice is cocky as he says, “So, Ser Harwin, how do you feel about our princess taking what she wants from us at the same time?”

Harwin grins. “Do you think you could take both of us?”

“Yes, I want you both.”

“Greedy girl!” Daemon smacks your ass.

Your heart races with anticipation at the thought of having both of them inside you at the same time. You're used to making love to them both, but this would feel different—more intimate, more primal. Harwin and Daemon had mutual respect for one another, but they mainly bonded over how much they loved your little family.

Your husband chuckles softly, his warm breath caressing your ear. “You’ll get what you desire, my love. I’ve bet you’ve thought about this plenty of times before, haven’t you?”

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you nod.

A princess is desperate to feel her husband and lover fill her up at the same time.

Daemon slowly withdraws his shaft from your cunny, leaving you aching for more. He sits down on the bed beside Harwin, but before you have the chance to move over to his lap, the knight hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you up until you are hovering over his face. Not wasting time, Harwin starts flicking at your sensitive clit with his tongue.

Daemon smirks as he listens to your whine. He had already ‘prepared’ both your holes before Harwin joined you in the bedchamber. After coming apart on Harwin’s lips, Daemon gently pulls the small cock-shaped object from your anus, then pulls you onto his lap so you are facing him, and slides his cock into your cunny again.

He leans back and pulls you down with him, gripping your shoulders and spreading them while Harwin readjusts himself behind you. The thought of having them both causes your clitoral area to throb, “Please.”

Harwin guides his thick cock to where you’re aching for him. With a gentle nudge, he pushes past your resistance and enters your tight hole. You gasp as he fills you completely. The sensation of having them both inside you is foreign and exhilarating. Harwin begins to rock his hips gently, slowly pulling them out before pushing them back in again, while Daemon thrusts upwards at a harsher pace.

“How does it feel? Daemon asks, pinching your nipple between his fingers. “Good as you imagined?”

“So, so good.”

Your mind becomes hazy with pleasure when one of them starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. You come apart, squeezing both of them tightly. Harwin shoots his seed inside you, then Daemon follows shortly after, coating your cunny in his seed, which he will hopefully take.

The knight slowly pulls you out, then brushes your sweaty hair out of your face and kisses you deeply. Daemon smirks, “Take your time catching your breath, my good knight, as we will be here all night.”

[nina-ya]

Some thoughts on Law and a pregnant gf and later as a dad? ❤️

I decided to make these headcanons! I usually HC law as being sterile from his white lead disease so this certainly had my brain working but i absolutely adore the idea of Law as a father

Law would be on edge throughout your pregnancy, though he does try to hide that anxiety. He would be glued to your side, making sure you and the baby are alright without making a huge fuss about it. He knows that if he looks worried, you will worry too, and that is not good for bot you and the baby.

Nightly scans become a regular thing with Law, him checking up on you and the little one every night to ensure that you and the baby are doing good.

The thought of his child inheriting his white lead disease freaks Law out. He has been through hell and back because of this disease, and he doesn't want any more trouble caused by the disease.

Law would dice deep into reading up on pregnancies and babies to ensure that he is prepared for any and all outcomes. He nearly forgets about the whole parenting part until you are practically waving that parenting book in his face and making him take a look at it.

If you let him, he would deliver the baby himself. This would be the quickest and painless pregnancy ever. If you wanted a natural birth, he would also respect that and be by your side with every painful contraction.

Once the baby is in his arms, Law is absolutely smitten. In his hands is a brand new reason to keep going.

He would try raising the kid with medical knowledge, just like his parents did with him. Just how far he goes with that would be up to you. If you want your baby learning how to say teratoma before they know classic fairytales, Law is the perfect father for that.

Law can be protective over his child. He just wants to make sure his baby is okay.

Law as a girl dad. Thats it. Thats the tweet.

The heart pirates would be so overjoyed about their new crew member! Theyre constantly swooping in to shower the baby with love and spoil them rotten whenever they get the chance.

[reallyromealone]

Title: fitness

Fandom: none applicable

Characters: werewolf - reader -

Fic type: story

Pairings: werewolf x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, female character, female werewolf, wife, heterosexual relationship, buff wife, house husband reader, bunny reader

Notes:finally I get to write fem character x male reader (yes you can request that btw)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Was always in awe at his wife, the tall muscular woman who could birthed their three beautiful children and (name) just was so stupidly in love.

And she was also in love with her sweet loving husband, a werewolf and a rabbit Okami were an interesting couple but she couldn't be happier.

"You wanna work out babe?" She asked (name) who nodded, his adorable apron around his waist, the house husband of their relationship "I wanna get jacked up! Strong like my wife!" He said excitedly as he looked up at the other, the 6'8 woman, just barely hitting her shoulder "alright babe but we're gonna be serious about this" she said to her husband, she knew him well.

"Go papa!" Their eight year old yelled as their ten year old recorded and the five year old looked a little confused but happy to be there, the werewolf woman looking at her rabbit husband who was in gym shorts, a t-shirt and sweatbands "let's do some stretches to warm up your bones baby" she said and (name) nodded, the family at a public track area as (name) didn't feel comfortable being at a gym quite yet. The woman noticed her husband's cotton tail twitching excitedly as they stretched, she liked how serious he was taking it.

Though she couldn't figure out why, her husband was a complete homebody who typically used all his energy playing those dance games with the kids.

The two exercised for an hour before the woman carried her short king husband who was drained from it all, to be fair he did not exercise much at all.

"Papa's sleepy!" The youngest giggled as she held her eldest siblings hand, the family getting into the car and everyone settled in and (name) exhausted from it all.

"How do you do that every day!" (Name) Grumbled to his wife as he plopped on the bed post shower, the woman snorting at him "practice and discipline" the bunny turning to stick his tongue out at her "so why the sudden interest in fitness, you hate exercise unless you get cookies" she teased (name) as the other looked away "I... It's stupid"

"Talk to me" she said worried for her husband and (name) looked down and fidgeted "your brother made comments about how small I am again, I'm not the strongest and you're strong and cool and he didn't see how our relationship made sense and--""my brother is an idiot" she said simply and pulled her husband into her chest "I love you the way you are, you're cute and sweet and caring" she said moving his face to kiss him "I like that you enjoy taking the more feminine roles and don't try and put those on me and still recognize that I'm your wife" he gets excited when she wears suits or pretty dresses, their wedding he kept whispering 'wife' repeatedly as he practically vibrated with joy.

"I like you just as you are, just as you like me how I am" she said lovingly and (name) smiled goofily at her "now don't listen to my idiot brother, he's single and gets no dates and you're married with three kids" she said kissing all over his face and (name) hugged her "now, let's go order dinner, you're in no position to cook after that stunt at the track"

"I ONLY TRIPPED TWICE!"

"and yet you fell like you slipped on a banana"

[aklaustaleteller]

Could you make an imagine where Klaus Mikaelson is the father figure to the reader despite not being her real dad? And her birth father came back trying to take her but Klaus wouldn’t stand for it and wouldn’t let him take the reader?

Home

Klaus had just been taking a stroll through the woods when he finds himself walking towards the sounds of a beta's broken sobs. Seeing the little abandoned wolf, Klaus takes her home with him, hoping that he'd be able to become her safe place -- which he very successfully does. But what happens when Y/n's biological father returns after ages in hopes of getting her back?

Warnings - None really, other than the fact that it's quite sad (but with happy outcomes I promise <3) Word Count - 4.0k

I'm so so so sorry for my absence the past whole week but hey, this is quite literally a 4k worded fic! So hopefully that makes up for it? (Also, thank you for the request, lovely anon. Please do tell me if you like it!!)

Also! I took the idea of Y/n's wolf being a little out of control from this very very amazing fic written by the truly talented @klausysworld Please do give the fic a read, if you haven't already that is, hahah <3

Klaus had been taking a stroll through the woods, his feet carrying him just about anywhere while his mind sped through thoughts a million miles an hour. He made plans, then backed them up with another one, and then made another one, just in case. And he'd just lifted his leg to cross over a fallen tree when his body came to an unnatural halt.

He was never caught off guard, but right now, as he heard hushed sobs and a heart that was beating in a painfully broken rhythm, he couldn't help but gently continue his stroll – in a particular direction with an aim, this time.

His head tilted as he neared the source of the sound, his nose picking up on a beta scent. It had been way too long since he had come across a beta, his major interactions occurring with either other Alphas or Omegas, or Vampires. As well as some other species that rather got on his nerves, such as the witches. It intrigued him.

From quite afar, his eyes finally caught sight of a rather small frame crouched against the rough bark of a tree, a jerk shaking their body every time their back accidently met with it, followed by another painful but gritted howl.

But what made Klaus' frown deepen even further, was the sight of wolf ears growing from the person's head. He felt as though his eyes were deceiving him; he had never come across something like this and if he wasn't mistaken, he was pretty sure that this was just an untrained little wolf -- or perhaps it was the strangeness making him think that there couldn't possibly be another mythical creature that was actually all too real.

So, he walked closer, his head a little ducked and shoulders bunched up on either side of his neck as he tried not to make any sound as that would surely startle the ...child, he realised.

The little frame, sobbing into their hands with their knees bunched up against their torso, belonged to a child. A werewolf child who was beginning to lose control of their wolf, and just then Klaus noticed a tail curling up against the little one's back in order to provide comfort.

He flinched when some wood broke unde his step, alerting the little girl and his heart cracked like a drought-stricken land when she jerked and looked up at him with eyes so big, full of fear swarming them and so much sadness that he could drown in it and not be found.

She immediately backed up into the tree, hissing sharply when her back met the unruly surface but not once did her eyes move away from him. Her lips trembled, a fat tear rolling down her cheek against her will and Klaus noted that the girl could not be older than a decade.

Taking another step towards her, Klaus froze when her wolf ears went back in, and a sob broke out of her mouth.

"Please, sir! I will do whatever you ask of me, but please don't hurt me," she shouted at him, fully breaking down into heart wrenching sobs as she tried to get up on wobbly legs but fell to the ground right away due to the tremor coursing through her body.

Tears blurred his vision for a second before he took the final step toward her which brought him close enough to sit on his knees beside her and rest his hand on her head.

"It's alright, little wolf. I'm not here to harm you," Klaus whispered, feeling her body falling into shambles under his touch. But when she looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes, he couldn't help but pass her a reassuring smile.

"You are safe with me, sweetheart," he said, now weaving his hand across her forehead to brush away the hair that stuck to it. "Yes?" He asked her with a soft nod, bringing her closer to his chest when she too, nodded. Her eyes were still uncertain but he could tell that it won't take long for her to let go.

This was a child, full of enough naivety to trust a stranger and Klaus was more than glad that he’d found her before someone else could’ve. And maybe his Alpha scent provided her with the extra comfort that she most likely needed, but Klaus wasn’t complaining.

So he rested his back against the tree this time and let her sit in his lap, his arms around her in a way that cocooned her away from whatever that had pained her so terribly, and ready to protect her from anything that came her way with poisonous intentions.

His heart clenched inside his chest when the little girl curled up against him, finally letting the sobs rake through her body and for all the sadness to cause havoc inside her little heart before it left her alone for good.

And for some reason, Klaus just knew to avoid her back. It was clear that she was hurt over there somehow, making him rub his hand up and down her arm instead, and rock the two of them side to side for a little bit. Slowly and slowly, her wails turned into softer sobs and then finally, Klaus heard her heartbeat go back to a normal pace again.

He looked down to see if she'd cried it all out, wanting her to tell him about the culprit who had hurt her like this but when he found that she had slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber, he didn't even think once before carrying her home with him, covering her up under his duvet while he sat on the sofa across the bed, looking at her and telling himself that there was no way he was going to be able to let her go.

He just felt something between them, something that brought them closer in a way he had never experienced before. He felt like he was supposed to love her, care for her, teach her all about the world and show her the wonders. He felt like taking her responsibility, giving her his last name and raising her protected from the world.

Perhaps it was because he, somewhere, saw his inner child in her. The child that so helplessly begged for just some love from his father and got the horrifying abuse instead. 

Klaus wanted to take her under his wing and be there for her while she grew up. He wanted this very clearly abandoned little wolf to call him her father, and his brothers her uncles and his sisters her aunts.

He couldn't sleep all night, fearing that she'd wake up and ask for her actual parents. And he knew he'd take her back in an instant if she wanted to, but it would tear him apart into uncountable and unrecognisable shreds.

And so, he waited all night for her to wake up and hopefully deny him when he'd ask her if she wanted to go back home. And Klaus would go to hell and back to build her a home; to become her home.  

But despite his stubborn decision to stay up and look after her, Klaus awoke to something soft and comforting touching his whatever exposed skin. And as he cracked open his eyes, the sunlight was already pouring inside his room and one of his blankets was draped over him. And he knew it hadn’t been on him for long as he had felt it sliding across his frame, and yet he couldn’t catch sight of the carer. 

That was, until he began getting up and he looked down to find the little girl, sitting beside his feet and looking up at him with doe eyes full of ...joy. He noted that the girl was happy to see that he was finally awake, her heartbeat picking up just a little as a smile slid on her mouth. 

“Thank you, Alpha,” the girl mumbled shyly, placing her hands on his knees while she began standing up. And Klaus’ arms instantly went ahead in order to prevent her from falling but she didn’t stumble once, reminding him that she probably had werewolf healing powers that performed with a slight delay due to her young age. 

Klaus opened his mouth to say something but when the girl warily wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on the very tip of her toes to do so, he found himself caught off guard, once again. But regardless, he hugged her back rather tightly, lifting her off the ground and bringing her on the sofa. 

“Are you okay now, little wolf? Does it still hurt?” Klaus asked her, one of his hands cupping her face while the other cradled her. And his heart swooned when she curled up on him just like the night prior, but this time only soft breaths passed through her mouth. 

“The wounds have healed, Alpha,” she mumbled, almost hiding her face by tucking it away in his chest. “But my heart still hurts, I think,” her voice wavered as she confessed, now clenching his henley in her fist due to the unease it brought to her.

“Oh, little wolf,” Klaus sighed, his eyebrows turned into an upside down frown as he looked upon her with pity. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” He whispered, cautious so she wouldn’t shut him off, even though she was too young to know of such a thing.

“My father, he – he kicked me out of the pack yesterday,” she told him with a quivering voice, tears beginning to pool in her eyes once again. “He told me – he said that he doesn’t love me… that – that he never has!” She cried out, a sob aching her throat and wrapping itself around it so tightly that it was almost beginning to choke her. 

“He said he doesn’t love me,” she repeated, her body now shaking in Klaus arms as his heart crumpled inside his chest as he noted just how much she cared and felt, and that she was having to relive it again right now. 

“Why did he kick you out, darling?” Klaus asked, wanting to end her misery and just a one line answer would be enough for him to go over and slaughter the entire pack.

“He wanted me to learn how to handle the pack once he wouldn’t be there anymore, how – how to be an Alpha,” she told him, tears flowing out of her eyes that had now grown bloodshot red. 

And just then, her ears popped out of her head once again, and Klaus couldn’t help but pet the welted ears in order to help her calm down. 

“But I didn’t want to! I – I don’t want to take charge after him!” She told Klaus, this time her voice changed its tone to be more convincing and desperate. She sat upright, trying to show Klaus just how much she’d rather work behind the scenes than take the lead officially.

“It’s okay, little wolf – you won’t have to anymore,” Klaus reassured the girl, weaving his fingers through her hair and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll be here with me, safe and sound, and I will love you, sweetheart,” he whispered, looking into her eys with the purest sincerity.

“I truly love you, little wolf,” Klaus said softly at recieving a questioning look from her, asking if he honestly meant what he was saying. “And I will always show you love.”

She brightened up at that, the shine of a couple stars returning to her eyes as she got up, but then saddened again. “But what about home?” She asked, her tears beginning to dry up on her cheeks as she wiped them away. 

“Do you wish to go home?”

“No,” she trailed off, looking away from his eyes as if guilty, causing Klasu to cup her cheeks and turn her back to face him. 

“Then I’ll be your home, little wolf,” he smiled at her. “Yes?” 

The girl nodded, quickly leaning in to press a kiss on his dimpled cheek. 

“What’s your name, darling?” 

“Y/n, Alpha,” she answered him, and Klaus wanted more than anything for her to call him her father or dad, but knew that he should give her some time. 

“Lovely,” he grinned, taking her in his arms and getting up to let her in the shower and then introduce her to the rest of the Mikaelsons. 

And it wasn’t long before Klaus found himself officially adopting Y/n, making her  a Mikaelson and his heart had swollen inside his ribs when she’d so shyly asked him if she could finally call him her father. 

Over the first couple months only Klaus noticed that her gentle and empathetic nature valued deep and personal connections with people over power and attention. He also learned that the reason she hid her high intelligence and outstandingness in whatever field she chose, was because that was simply ingrained in her beta personality. 

So, gradually, books all about betas began to fill shelves in their library quarter of the house. 

“Father!” Came in a shrieking voice, followed by his ears picking up on a rapid heartbeat and he was out of the bed in an instant, checking her over to see if she was hurt and he only shook his head when he found that Kol had just been chasing her around the house, early in the morning to keep her interest while Freya made breakfast for her. 

“Good morning, little wolf,” Klaus grinned, picking her up off the ground and spinning with her in his hold, pressing as many kisses as he could all over her face as she pressed her palm against his face to keep his stubble away.

Loud giggles and squeaks echoed throughout the mansion as Klaus brought her back to bed with him, letting her lay on top of him.

It quite hurt him that she was too tall to curl up on him now, but it still felt good when her heart pressed up against his despite the many layers of bones and skin and clothing keeping them apart. 

“Uncle Kol was chasing me with his vampire speed! Tell him that that’s not fair!” She whined, looking pointedly at Kol who was shaking his head at the door. 

“You’re a wolf, little one,” Klaus began, pulling her attention back on him. “You can outrun anyone,” he smiled. 

Y/n contemplated that for a second before she moved to sit upright beside him with a pout on her mouth. “Anyone but you, father.”

Klaus laughed at that, tackling her back into bed. “You do not wish to outrun me, now do you, little wolf?” He asked her, getting out of bed and letting her cling to him on his chest as he went downstairs. He knew that as a wolf, she preferred to nuzzle anywhere she found warmth, and that his chest was one of her favourite places. 

Sitting her down on the chair next to him, Klaus let her eat her food by herself. Sure, the honey did drizzle down her chin once but he didn’t mind, instantly cleaning it up with his thumb before it could’ve slipped down any further. 

Elijah asked her questions about the storybook he had bought her a couple days prior, Rebekah asked her if the girl wanted to help her aunt pick out a dress, Kol warned her against it by threatening to chase her and Freya smacked all of them on the back of their heads, telling them off to let you eat.

“Father, are you free to paint with me after this?” Y/n asked, looking at him with eyes that had truly unintentionally turned similar to a little puppy’s. 

Klaus finished his food, noting another thing that her shyness had truly dissipated into thin air. And all that it had left behind was politeness and some convincing eyes that could get the devil to let go of a deal.

“Of course, Y/n,” he smiled, getting up and grinning when she trotted behind him happily with her own empty plate in her hand. He watched as she put it in the sink and washed her hands and mouth, letting her chug down her orange juice for once as he wiped his own mouth. 

Once again, she followed him back inside his studio like a lost puppy. Klaus came back out with the heavier and the majority of supplies in his hands while Y/n skipped behind him with the paints and the brushes in hers.

Walking into the front yard, Klaus set down all of their stuff and sat himself in front of her, chuckling when he noticed that she’d already begun twirling her brush around on her canvas, not a single thought in her mind as she let out anything that flashed in front of her eyes, onto the paper. 

Klaus on the other hand, decided to make a painting of colours chosen from her hair. Every colour he saw in the midst of her hair strands, he put it on his canvas, slowly and slowly morphing into a tree’s bark.

And when he checked upon her canvas to see where her painting was going, he felt his dimples dig inside his cheeks at the sight of every and any shade of green that she could find – perhaps in his eyes, Klaus realized when she raised her head to look into his eyes and went back to working. 

Almost all of his days went like this, waking up to her running into his room after having had a shower, holding her in his arms for a little then taking her down for breakfast, where she would convince him to paint with her for a little.

After that he’d let her go off with Eilajh to read and learn some other things by Freya that she probably needed to learn. He would be out of the mansion during that, out to mind his business and kill his own minions because of their brave stupidity. 

When he’d return to the mansion, Y/n would sleepily trod out of her bed and into his arms, let him pick her up and take her to bed where he’d just hold her and tell her how much he loved her, because someone had probably already read her a story or two. 

Some nights she would wake up crying from a nightmare about her biological father, and then she would find herself running into Klaus’ arms which were already open, having heard her rushed footsteps and broken sobs. 

Her wolf ears no longer popped out since Klaus had spent an insurmountable time helping her take her wolf under her control, but every once in a while, depending upon how bad the nightmare was, her tail would creep out of her shirt and curl itself either around Klaus’ arms or her own back, which Klaus didn’t object at seeing that she only did this when she was crying in his arms.

But once they’d finish painting, Y/n would run into the house with her and Klaus’ painting to show them off to her uncles and aunts, leaving Klaus behind to clean up the mess. But he didn’t mind it one bit, only laughing when she’d come back looking guilty and saying that she was sorry that she’d once again forgotten to help him clean up in her excitement. 

And that’s exactly what had happened just now. 

“It’s okay little wolf,” Klaus assured her. “You know I don’t mind it,” he said and let her hug him to show him just how bad she felt.

He rubbed her back, and got up with her hand in his, looking down at the back of her head and smiling as she led their way back inside. 

“Wait father!” She paused her walking. “Look, the weather has taken a turn,” she stated, pointing at the sky in which angry clouds had begun swirling, the fluffy white ones long gone. 

“Does that mean it’s reading time?” 

“Yes!” The girl shrieked, jumping up and down, making Klaus laugh as she ran off to meet up with Elijah. 

He caught himself grinning long after she had left his line of sight and shook his head, a smile still pasted on his mouth as he turned around to rule over the so-called supernatural adults whom even Y/n was smarter than. 

“I see you’ve taken a liking to playing her father, Niklaus,” a rough voice said from behind, and while it hadn’t caught Klaus off guard, what had was the fact that this man was brave and dumb enough to step a foot in such close proximity to him. 

Surely, he must have come with a death wish. 

“Roman,” Klaus said out loud the name of Y/n’s biological father, his voice full of venom and he could’ve spat at the man in front of him. “I see you’re feeling daring today, perhaps even like dying?” He proposed, taking a threatening step towards the man. 

Klaus had, the very next night of when he’d found Y/n, went on to slaughter Roman’s entire pack. He had let the man live since he wanted him to see and live through his own daughter's hatred towards him. So much hatred that she didn’t even look his way anymore, let alone call him her father.

“Let’s not get this messy, Niklaus,” Roman started but before he could’ve finished, Klaus had him pinned against the very door frame he was leaning so cockily on. 

“I’m not your friend, Roman,” he gritted through his teeth, knowing that he didn’t need to clarify any further as to what he meant by that. 

“Sir,” Roman started, stretching his neck. “I want my daughter back,” he said.

Red flashed in front of Klaus’ eyes as he sped towards Roman, tearing through his flesh and ribs to clench his heart in his fist. “I would’ve been a fan of such bravery had you not made the mistake of calling her your daughter when she fucking refuses to even recognise you,” Klaus finally spat at him, his grip on his heart so tight that it could burst due to the pressure. 

“I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat if you dare once again to call my daughter, yours, or call your lame excuse of a self, her father,” he said, pulling on his heart lightly. “She is mine, and I love her and this is her home now.”

“I am her home,” he gritted his teeth so hard that they could’ve shattered. 

Roman’s frame was beginning to get blue, knocking the realisation into Klaus that his hold on his heart was so hard that it was struggling to beat. “Go to the opposite side of the world and never look back here again,” Klaus compelled him, finally taking his hand back out of his chest. 

“Now off you go,” he said, maybe shooed. “I am sure you know that a wolf bite can only be cured by my blood,” he hissed venomously, his eyes shining golden as vampire streaks drew themselves through his skin.

And once Roman had finally sped out, Klaus let out a breath and his heart to rest again, his hands trembling at the thought of what could’ve happened right now had he not been who he truly is. 

Rushing into his room to clean himself off, Klaus rushed back out to Y/n who was currently sitting in front of Elijah. 

“Little wolf!” Klaus called for her as he stood at the doorway of the room, his vision getting blurry when she came running to him with the biggest smile on her face. 

“Yes father? Missed me, didn’t you?” She giggled teasingly, wrapping her arms around him and Klaus couldn’t help but nuzzle in the nape of her neck, holding her tightly against him as he kneeled on the floor and felt a tear slip past the slit of his eyes. 

“I love you, my little wolf,” he said, whimpering. 

“Oh, I love you too, father,” she sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “You should know that I’ll always be your little wolf.”

“Forever and always, my precious” Klaus breathed, pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek before resting his forehead against it for a moment, breathing in her scent and reminding himself that she’d also become his home now. 

[csilla-nocturne]

This one is gonna get long.

Lan Wangji gets Wei Wuxian to agree to come back to Gusu with him by promising to protect the remaining Wens with his life. Lan Xichen, and their uncle seeing how serious Lan Wangji is about this very reluctantly agree on the condition that the tiger seal is destroyed.

Wei Wuxian agrees, but something goes wrong after the group of cultivators attempting to destroy it manages to destroy half of it. Wei Wuxian makes a heroic sacrifice to destroy the remaining half, but is fatally wounded in the process.

(Note: Once again this is completely up to the author, but I think it's beautiful, and hilarious to have WWX die tragically in LWJ arms, and be lucid enough to understand LWJ's love confession before he dies, so when he comes back 13 years later the first thing WWX does is freak out about that. Just my personal preference.)

Anyway 13 years later things are kinda different. Many of the older Wens passed on peacefully of old, instead of being horribly murdered. Wen Qing works as a doctor under the supervision of the Lans. Wen Ning just just kinda chills out of sight unless he's helping LWJ, or the Lan juniors. Lan Sizhui was still adopted into the Lan clan, and everyone knows he's a Wen by birth, but no one ever comments on that because some idiot tried to threaten Lan Sizhui with that as an excuse once, and no one ever wants to see LWJ that pissed again.

I don't know if Jin Zixuan has survived because Jin Guangyao still exists,(probably not.) but Jiang Yanli is alive so Jin Ling doesn't have to be his Jiujiu's emotional support nephew. He's also already friends with the Lan juniors!

Jin Guangyao still killed Nie Mingjue, so Nie Huaisang is still out to absolutely ruin his life just like in canon.

[tenjikyu]

𝘋𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 - 𝘔𝘪𝘵𝘴𝘬𝘪 - 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ Finally, the finale! After wayyyyy too long , fluff, the ending idk how to feel about but you’re getting what you’re getting and I wanna be done with this series already + I need modivation to get back into writing , it gets pretty romantic with Freminet but nowhere near NSFW.

PART IV • GENSHIN M.LIST

Tag list - @fisbred @gimmealamp @lucianidealz @sleepdeprivedpotato @unemiart @camryn-ciel67 @aruaruru @danika-redgrave124 @bunbunboysworld @kaoyamamegami @aphxdea @red1sg0ne @sleepndacloud @squishyboo @ally674 @hoo-hoo @probablynoposts @junevtv @og-winnie @exrellian @f0th3rr @cb97s-laptop @moonjellyfishie

The familiar green bard before you took off his hat with a bow, sending a friendly wave towards the other three in the room, whom were sharing knowing glances. In the many times you recounted your story to them, the green bard remained consistent with each retelling. You spoke of him with the fondest eyes, and the siblings could almost feel the pure love the bard had for you even before meeting him themselves.

In a count of shock, you quietly excused the both of you to the fontainian siblings, before closing the door behind yourself.

The two of you went on an emotional and very much sentimental walk, reminding you of the days you would talk to Venti about your problems and your struggles. About how Diluc’s 180 change in personality once he came back from Snezhnaya was a scary turn of events. About how Kaeya’s icy attitude rivalled his vision, and how much it upset you. About how the knights and maids couldn’t seem to get off your ass, despite your best efforts at politely telling them to fuck off.

You reminisced about your time in Fontaine to the archon, and Venti only nod his head and gave you a smile as he walked alongside you, pretending that he hadn’t snuck into the nation countless times to check in on you. You spoke of your growing relationship with the Fatui member, and how the Hearth children had taken you in as one of their own. How Navia had taken you under her wing and you didn’t spend a cent whenever she was around. How you and the former Hydro Archon were each others comfort buddies whenever bad thoughts came to mind, and how you aided eachother into adapting to the new world around yourselves.

As you recited your amazing time spent in Fontaine, the more and more you realised to yourself that you really didn’t want to go home. In the moment, you wouldn’t have noticed it, but looking back on it, it was clear that was Venti’s intention the entire time. He knew you better than you knew yourself, and he could see the internal debate you had been having with yourself since the incident. And so, giving you the chance to clear your mind if the bad, you had come to the conclusion that you didn’t want to return to Mondstadt anytime soon.

“Mondstadt will always be the home of your birth, however it’s also the nation of Freedom. Freedom to fly wherever you want to go, and wherever you want to build your nest and settle down. No matter how long you stray from Mondstadt, it will always have a home waiting for you.”

Venti’s little speech had you in tears, and he opened up his arms just like all those years ago.

In a world full of uncertainty and the unknown, the arms of an angel would always be there to embrace you.

“At last, we’ve made it back to Fontaine!” Lyney practically combusts. Everyone around could see how dearly he was missing Fontaine, especially his twin sister who heard ALL about it.

“Hey (Y/N), wanna go for a dive later?” Freminet questions out of the blue, and you nod your head. You knew whenever he went into the ocean unexpectedly, in this case the second you got back from a LONG trip, that he had something private he wanted to discuss with you, and so you made sure to never decline.

As the day came to an end, you prepared your diving gear that freminet had ever so graciously bought you for your birthday (yk him being rich and all, fatui money goes hard) and met freminet at the rendezvous.

As he took your hand in his own, he guided into the water as he’d done dozens of times before. The oceans of Fontaine never seized to amaze you. Its gentle touch soothed your skin to the core, and as you descended into the depths of the ocean, Freminet never once let go of the grasp on his fingers.

The two of you enjoyed what the ocean had to offer you. Freminet tended to stick closer to the top of the water when you accompanied him, too paranoid to take you deeper as you weren’t as experienced as he was. Regardless, you continued admiring natures aquatic gifts. You found pearls, danced with domestic blubber beasts, picked flowers and located lost treasures. All the whole, Freminet was yet to let go of your hand, not because he was afraid of you running off, but because he simply refused to let go.

Freminet never wanted to let go of your hand.

Freminet never wanted to let go of you.

The skies soon turned dark, and signs of a storm were appearing, so Freminet was quick to escort you out of the water. What was originally subtle signs of a storm was now a full blown storm, and running back to the gates & all the way back to your home, all the while laughing your asses off, was having you fall further and further in love with every step you ran.

By the time you made it inside, the lighting was begging to strike & you immediately went to lighting a fire in order to help the both of you warm up. Freminet removed his cost he chucked over himself when collecting your left-behind gear, and it suddenly dawns on you how beautiful Freminet was on the outside. You always admired Freminet’s inner beauty, his charming and reserved nature, yet sticking up for himself and his own if needed, but you never really took the time to admire how gorgous he truly was. His hourglsss waist, his long golden hair, his long eyelashes, his slender thighs. His form captured your attention, and it didn’t take long for Freminet to catch your gaze.

“(Y/N), is there something on my face?” Freminet questions,

“Nah, come sit down by the fire, you just be freezing” you murmur out, patting the ground next to you.

The both of you sit in comforting silence, a common occurrence between the two of you. But for the first time, a bubbling urge rose from your stomach.

You wanted his lips.

You knew how he felt, and you had for awhile. Freminet kinda… sucked, at hiding his feelings for you, especially his ruined confession. And so, you decided to take the lead for once.

You slowly grabbed his chin, and his eyes widened in surprise. You slowly took his face in your hand, and tilted your head as you neared his face.

He didn’t take his eyes off you the entire ordeal, and as he closed his eyes, you took it as a sign to finally seal the deal.

You gently pecked his lips. It was somewhat quick and gentle, however when he leaned in and kissed you again, you couldn’t hold back any longer.

Freminet slowly moved into your lap, kissing you not with lust, but with passion. You grasped his slim waist and continued the assault of kisses on his face. The both of you continued your passionate yet loving make out session until you were both out of breath.

As you parted away from eachother, Freminet took your cheeks in his frigid hands and pecked your cheeks, before cuddling into your lap. Leaning against the couch, the both of you held eachother closley, absorbing eachother’s warmth.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that” Freminet giggles, before cuddling closer into your neck. You sighed gently to yourself, before shaking your head lightly.

The both of you fell asleep embracing eachother that night, and suffered the consequences of not properly washing up after being in the rain. (Lyney fussed over the both of you, cooing at how cute the both of you looked with bright red cheeks and blocked noses. Lynette, ever your saviour, made herbal tea to quench your aching throats.)

A knock was heard at the door of the Winery, and Diluc’s curiosity heightened. First, Kaeya had received a letter in scribbled handwriting to meet at the Dawn Winiry (with a cheeky drawing of a certain musician at the bottom of it), leading Diluc into letting him in. Then, the charming melody of a lyre enveloped the air, which seemingly had no bard tuning it.

Now, a knock at the door?

Kaeya and Diluc looked at eachother, and decided to open the door. After all, the person knocking is either someone else who received a letter or is the mastermind behind this little scandal.

And so, on the count of three, the opened the door.

Three…

Two…

One..

“Hey Diluc, Kaeya. Long time no see, huh?”

Thank you to my OG DWH series followers, I can’t thank you enough for the patience with me and this series. Hope this didn’t disappoint.

[pandorasword]

Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.

CHAERI'S MASTERLIST

BEFORE THE FAME

❒ warnings: Implied assault on a minor

Parents and Jeju

🦀 It all began when Kim Eun and Kang Si-u met as teenagers

🩰 Kang Si-u, hailing from the Jeju Islands, and Kim Eun, originally from Busan

🦀 The two met at the Busan Sea Festival, where Kang Si-u participated alongside his mother

🩰 Kang Si-u and his mother had permission to set up a small stand, specializing in a small bowl of Jeju Haemul Jeongol, a typical Jeju seafood soup, seasoned with a secret and special ingredient that made it particularly delicious

🦀 It didn't take long before Si-u's gentle and charismatic ways caught Eun's attention, who had gone there with her group of dancer friends

🩰 It was love at first sight for both of them and when she approached his stand to buy a bowl, he couldn't help but offer it to her

🦀 Her smile had enchanted him

🩰 And so they began calling each other every day, and the calls turned into dates and the dates into a marriage where a life was already growing inside the woman

🦀 After marriage, Kim Eun and Kang Si-u decided to settle in Jeju, in a cozy little house near his mother's, where they could build their new life together

🩰 Kim Eun showed a natural talent for ballet and cultivated a passion for the art since childhood. Her life had been an uninterrupted ballet, dancing with grace and fluidity as if the tips of her toes were her only contact with the world.

🦀 Her talent did not go unnoticed, and after the birth of their first child, Kang Dal, Kim Eun was chosen to join the prestigious Korean National Ballet, a dream come true that allowed her to express her art daily

🩰 Meanwhile, Kang Si-u worked tirelessly to realize his dream of opening a successful chain of restaurants specializing in seafood dishes that reflected the culinary richness of the Jeju Islands

🦀 Since they were just two teenage lovers, the couple had big dreams for the future

🩰 With all of the challenges that came with it, Kang Si-u had opened a small restaurant on the coast of Jeju Island, facing the difficulties of running a small business, but determined to overcome them in order to achieve the success that they both desired

🦀 But this success did not seem to come for him as his wife climbed higher and higher in the ranks of ballet

🩰 As Kim Eun's career in ballet progressed, Kang Siu's lacking success began to put a strain on their marriage. Her love for social status and her career became more important than her feelings for her husband

🦀 The discovery of an unplanned second pregnancy added to Kim Eun's sense of unhappiness. The thought of having to put her career on hold for another child was a source of great pain to her

🩰 Every day, Kang Si-u would bring his wife fresh cherries to satisfy the craving she had developed during her pregnancy in order to ease her frustration

🦀 At the birth of the baby girl, they decided to name her 'Chaeri', which means 'cherry' in Korean

🩰 Eun's total dedication to her ballet career led her to spend a lot of time away from home, leaving her toddler son and newborn daughter to be raised mainly by her husband and their grandmother

🦀 The tension in the marriage reached its peak when Kim Eun was offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: to become a prima ballerina at the Paris Opera, a proposal made by the Opera's dance director, with whom she had also begun a secret romantic relationship

🩰 The divorce was a quick and heartbreaking event for Kang Si-u. Not only did he lose the woman he loved, but also his children, as Kim Eun was determined to take them with her to France. She accused him of being a slacker and feared that he would teach them nothing but failure.

🦀 For Kim Eun, her children were destined for greatness, for success in the ballet world like she was, and she believed that they would not achieve any significant milestones with him

🩰 So Eun left for Paris with the two children, Kang Dal and Chaeri, who was not even a year old, to start a new life away from Si-u

Paris and childhood

🦀 Paris brought out the best of Kim Eun`s talent. Her performances as a prima ballerina were acclaimed by critics and audiences alike, earning her the respect and admiration of the ballet world

🩰 Her stage presence was so magnetic that her questionable behavior was often ignored by the people around her, such was her ability to capture everyone's attention with her dancing

🦀 The kids, Dal and Chaeri, have been raised in an environment of European culture and elegance. Growing up in luxury, they were subjected to a strict education, with ballet lessons reflecting their mother's ambition and passion

🩰 She was determined to see them follow in her footsteps in ballet and pushed them to be excellent from an extremely young age

🦀 Dal and Chaeri's dance training was in the hands of the man who had helped open the doors of the Paris Opera to Kim Eun. He became a constant and influential figure in their lives

🩰 Though their mother tried to keep the amorous side of her relationship with the man hidden, as they grew up, the children began to realize the true nature of the bond between their mother and the man who was more than just a family friend or dance teacher

🦀 For Kang Dal, the revelation of his mother's relationship with his mentor was a further incentive to respect and admire him. He began to see him more and more as a father figure. His innate talent for ballet made him the protégé of his mentor, who saw in him the potential to become a ballet star

🩰 Chaeri, on the other hand, was more reluctant to accept the man's presence in her life. Ballet did not inspire the same passion in her as it did in her brother, which led her not to excel as he did. She was treated with harshness by both the man and her mother for this

🦀 Often labeled a lazybones and a failure, she was repeatedly told that she was just like her father

🩰 Her mother, Kim Eun, insisted that failure was not an option in their family. She repeated this mantra constantly, emphasizing the importance of success and excellence

🦀 For Chaeri, life in the luxurious Parisian residence was often a nightmare. Despite the apparent welcome and comfort, she felt trapped in a role that did not belong to her, under pressure to live up to the expectations of such a demanding mother and in constant confrontation with her talented brother

🩰 Her bond with Dal, however, was her lifeline. Their deep, twin-like connection gave her the strength to face each day with a smile despite the challenges. He encouraged her to persevere, to try to meet her mother's expectations, offering the support and affection she never received from her own mother

Teenage years and trauma

- The kids grew up. They were no longer children

- Kang Dal won a prestigious scholarship to the Paris Opera Institute and continued to excel in the world of dance. This achievement was a source of great pride for the entire family. The Institute was a boarding school. Students were only allowed to return home on weekends and were intensively prepared for a professional ballet career

- Chaeri, on the other hand, faced the loneliness of the large Parisian home and painfully missed her brother, her lifelong confidant and best friend. However, this loneliness became a trigger for change, causing her to search for something she was truly passionate about

- Chaeri was able to convince her mother to allow her to explore other styles of dance besides classical ballet. The promise of achieving excellence in ballet in exchange for the freedom to follow her passions was a deal they both accepted

- Discovering hip hop and modern dance was a godsend for Chaeri, who found a more authentic expression of herself in these styles

- In order to honor her agreement with her mother and continue to study what she loved, Chaeri dedicated herself to ballet and took extra private lessons with her teacher

- She was only 13 when it happened

- It was so unexpected, so painful, so unfair, like every time something like that happens to someone, she felt she was being humiliated, losing her dignity

- Even though she did not have a good relationship with that man - the monster - she trusted him

- She trusted that he just wanted to see her improve, and that was why he offered to help her out of class with the other students

- Instead, his intentions were quite different, devious, evil

- He had taken advantage of a young girl at a time when she was most vulnerable

- Chaeri felt dirty for days, trying to wipe the traces of that monster from her skin

- She had immediately told her mother and brother

- As soon as she had managed to escape, she had run home

- They did not believe her

- They accused her of making the whole thing up, because according to them, he was a good man who had taken care of them since they arrived in Paris, lost and in a country completely different from their own

- Eun in particular was furious, so much so that she no longer wanted her under her own roof

- So she was sent back to Jeju by her father, deprived of all the luxuries her mother and her position had provided

- Life after this event seemed worthless to Chaeri. Unable to cope with her pain and frustration, she spent her days by the sea, counting the shells uncovered by the waves under the sand

- The return to Jeju was a time of deep loneliness and isolation for her, although she was happy to have reestablished a stable relationship with her father and grandmother, who loved her unconditionally

- The weeks went by so empty that they seemed indistinguishable

- Bitterness and shame quickly turned to rage, a defense mechanism that gave her the strength she needed to keep going

- She had a longing to prove her worth, first to herself and then, most importantly, to her mother, the person who had hurt her the most over the years

- She was determined to show that she would become someone, despite her lifelong bullying by Eun, despite the odds and expectations

- A few months later, her father held her in an emotional embrace, tears in his eyes, kissing her cheeks and expressing how proud he was of her

- Chaeri had shown her true talent and passion and caught the attention of the right people

- She was chosen to join a rising dance crew of young gifted dancers who were to complement the Idols' perfect performances

- With this opportunity, her new life would be in Seoul.

- She was ready to start over.

- Paris was the background of her most painful memories, Jeju the place where she had processed her pain.

- She felt the need to change.

- It was going to be challenging, especially since she grew up in Europe

- She was almost fluent in Korean, but struggled with reading and writing

- The dance crew was affiliated with BigHit Entertainment. The group of dancers was created to support up-and-coming idols who were about to debut

- After signing numerous documents with her parents, she officially joined the company

- But her talent stood out so much that she went from dancer to trainee to the Idol everyone loves, the eighth member of the most successful group in the world

- (You should see her mother's face when she sees the success she thought would never be achieved by her daughter)

taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross guild fanfic idea

Warnings for 18+ Content, discussions of infertility, and past torture

Buggy is transmasc, something very few people know and fewer still recall the reveal thereof. He was very young when he realized he wasn't comfortable being called the crew's "little lass" or "baby girl". While the Rogers were wild and pretty lackluster at caring for children, they definitely went above and beyond for this bit. Buggy's assigned gender at birth is one of the biggest secrets he keeps, and it's been that way for over three decades.

When he fell ill before the last island, there was concern about him and Shanks being left all alone. Most of the concern came from Roger. He didn't think either of his boys would hurt one another, but someone else might hurt his babies. He is terrified of the prospect, especially since Buggy's fever had begun to spike so high that the poor thing was mostly unconscious, mumbling and crying in his sleep. Roger may be a pirate, a captain, but these kids also made him into a father.

He sneaks them back onto the ship.

This changes some core things very quickly.

Word gets out that the Roger Pirates have seized the crown, that Roger is now King, and the cabin boys are there as well. This shifts the tides in small ways that compound more and more until it becomes a tidal wave of change.

For one, the fight and betrayal on a rainy evening and Loguetown between Shanks and Buggy alters. They will not seize the crown themselves, they know what lay at the End. They are not the Princes entitled to the crown itself, but instead they consider themselves more like sentries to guard the gates there in.

Roger disbands the crew. He vanishes for 2 years. He returns as a picture on the front page and an execution date. The boys rush to be there, to stop it, to help, and he does not let them. They instead must bare witness to the death of a father and the birth of an Era.

They then must weather the implosion of their family.

Left alone, they stick together. Roger had many enemies, and it was no secret that they were all the type to strike the weakest links, the vulnerable pieces, to make a point. Buggy and Shanks had targets on their backs the moment Roger's blood painted the scaffold.

Shiki in particular was one of the biggest threats.

The boys get separated, and Buggy, as his luck would have it, lands in Shiki's hands. He barely survives the torment until he manages to escape. He is hurt, he is withering, and his body holds more scars than what is visible on his skin. Shiki did not hold back, not on a child, not on Roger's child.

Shanks is livid, is furious, is seething and frothing, but his priority is Buggy, will always be Buggy, his friend, his brother, his Blue. They get through it all together. Buggy heals, mostly. He also receives some of the worst news of his life.

Young as he was, he'd also considered having a family. He'd wanted it. He'd wanted that connection and love and care, even if he often struggled with feeling like he deserved it. He'd wanted.

And the chance for it was robbed from him. Internal damage, scar tissue, etc - and he had to face the looming reality of never baring a child of his own flesh and blood. He is sad. He mourns. He grieves. But he decides, once he has processed, that love is not blood, because though he and Shanks are night and day, dawn and dusk, they are them, a package deal, and that transcends blood. A child does not have to be his by blood if the child is his by heart. He cannot grow his baby himself, but he can build his family by hand and by heart, and that will be enough. It will.

Fast forward to Cross Guild.

His crew is aware that he is transgender. He does not hide it per se, nor does he scream it from the heavens. It simply Is.

It does become a topic of conversation when bonds deepen and intimacy is reached between three men, but beyond verification of consent and boundaries, it is not mentioned again.

Buggy tells them in small bursts that he is infertile and why that is the case. To say the other two are angry is an understatement, but they focus on their clown's comfort more than their own fury.

Eventually, time having passed and comfort being reached, the trio begin noticing.... changes.

Buggy's appetite has dropped considerably, and he's lost some weight. As a Devil Fruit user, he has an odd yet rapid metabolism which requires specific feeding. It's much like fueling a vice, this deal with the devil. He often feeds with food, but his interest in it has flipped.

Crocodile and Mihawk are concerned, for good reason as well, but Buggy seems largely uninterested. They convince him to see a doctor if only to verify his safety and bribe him into agreeing through honeyed words and wandering hands.

The doctor runs a few tests, gives him a head to toe check up and returns with congratulations and a hormone list. Buggy is stunned. Buggy is breathless.

Buggy is pregnant.

Crocodile quite literally faints. Mihawk is visibly rebooting. The doctor is wondering if he'll need to begin on some other options when Buggy begins crying, grinning, laughing, and pale arms wind around him tightly.

They swear the doctor to secrecy. This pregnancy is fairly high risk due to his health, so they are refusing to jump the gun on outting it.

Buggy can't help hooking his dendens together for security and calling Shanks, though. Uncle Red deserves to know.

Shanks cries.

There are a few scares throughout, but everything's alright in the end. Crocodile and Mihawk are absolutely over bearing and comically protective, which gets mixed results from Buggy himself.

Then late on July evening, as the crew is eating and making merry, Buggy with a hand on his stomach, his lovers enjoying the moment, all hell breaks loose as Buggy tenses, pales, hisses and scrambles for something to hold. Braxton hicks, he tries to tell himself deliriously, until the come one after another. Crocodile hurries ahead to prepare the medical tents. Mihawk offers to carry Buggy, and nearly gets his face ripped off when Buggy bristles at it. They get him there and it turns out that baby beloved has decided today is the day. He's a month early.

The labor is long and difficult, even after they break his water. It is especially so when it turns out the afterbirth is simply Another Birth. He swears and screeches and vows to never let a mantouch himagain while alternating between clinging to his lovers and trying to kill them.

The babies are small, but they are fairly healthy all things considered.

Ramona D. Clown is born first with a riotous mane of blue curls like her papa, dark eyes revealed as she peers around once the wailing has ceased. She got her hair and nose from Buggy, but all her other features are Crocodile's through and through. They name her with meaning, her Haki pulsing in little waves as if trying to gain understandingof her surroundings. She is bold, is brave, is beautiful.

Aurora D. Clown is born soon after her sister with blue hair in coils and waves. She is born quiet and it terrifies everyone. Once she is cleared, is rubbed, is encouraged, she releases the loudest cries any have heard before. Named for the hope of dawn and the near miss of her life, Rory is beloved by her fathers. Her eyes, when she peeks open later on, are a deep color.

It will later be found that both girls take after their parents in many ways, and that both inherited Buggy's sense of mischief and shenanigans. Once old enough, the enjoy switching places to confuse people. One with midnight indigo eyes, another with nearly black green, they are not identical, but they are close enough that some fall for it.

Their parents never do.

Shanks pretends to, every single time, if only to get their happy laughter and have an excuse to give them gifts in disguise of prizes for tricking him.

That's all I got rn but here ya go I'll never write this ily byyyyeeee

Ooooo, this is an interesting fic idea. I’m sure Buggy just flat-out stated that he wasn’t a girl, love that Roger Pirates just were like Understood 👍 Good thing that something they did right.

Roger snuck Buggy and Shanks back onto the ship, because he was very concerned for them. That’s understandable and very endearing. No doubt Roger got his butt kicked by multiple of people on board. Indeed it changes things because the two cabin boys know what’s at the end. To me, I think in canon somehow Shanks got the crew to tell him what was at the end while Buggy didn’t want to hear until he could go there.

So them going to the last island definitely changes the fight in Lougetown. Poor Buggy and Shanks unable to help their captain because he doesn’t want them to, then the aftermath where they have to be weary of Roger’s enemies. I’m guessing this is an AU where Shiki doesn’t get sent to prison soon after Eddie’s War… I’m sure that’s what happened in canon.

Poor Buggy, I know Shanks really wants to rip Shiki apart. I think we all want too!

Oh that news hit Buggy hard, good thing Buggy processed that love isn’t always blood-related.

Ooooooo! Buggy is pregnant! Love that Crocodile faints and Mihawk is rebooting. The doctor isn’t going to tell anyone. Shanks crying because he’s going to be an uncle. Crocodile and Mihawk being overbearing and protective must got everyone in awe.

Buggy alternating between clinging to them and trying to kill them is so Buggy. Good thing they were healthy. I’m glad for that! I’m already loving Ramona and Aurora, taking after Buggy’s sense of mischief and shenanigans. If you ever sent an ask about them, I would love that. Their interactions with other people and who they going to be in the future. Uncle Shanks pretending not to know who is who. That’s so funny and cute.

Sorry if it seemed that I was ignoring your ask, I was stressing over a big test. So, I didn’t think about asks for a while.

[beatingdrumspouringwine]

Dionysos Loves His Mom(s), a very long essay

Going to just preface this by saying that I may/may not have gone a bit overboard, but I hope everyone enjoys reading my rambles on how amazing it is that we still have this message even through to day, how important this is for our understanding of Dionysos, and also just a little bit of (what I hope will come across as) Semele appreciation :) Also, I did write this during finals week, so if it seems rambly, please bear with me ;-;

And for clarification, I'll be referring to Semele with capitalized pronouns because even though She was human, mythologically, while carrying Dionysos, She was also deified by Him after He brought Her up from the Underworld.

The first interesting thing is that we get our description of Dionysos, as well as the love he shows for His Mother, in Greek mythology. While myths are usually pretty good resources for understanding the Gods, they are also usually written by the people who are in power at the time - which would be specifically older men who were not slaves. Because of this, a lot of myths tend to trend towards the "male" perspective of the Athenians. Also because of this, women are frequently represented in a very negative light, or at least as being relatively unimportant.

There are no Gods who have quite a relationship with Their Mothers like Dionysos has of His. Some of the Gods technically have no mother, like Aphrodite and Athena, and others just... don't seem to have much of a relationship at all. And this isn't necessarily to say that the Gods that we worship don't love Their Mothers, but more that the popular attitude of Greek society was simply to push women off to the side, and let the men take the glory.

And then, strangely, we have Dionysos, He Who Takes No Shit When It Comes to Women, as well as Him Who Has Two Moms. He's already something of an anti-Athena in Greek mythology, for while She was born of Zeus's head, and Metis was a sort of mother-base, Dionysos was born of two mothers, and from Zeus, in a way that echoes an intimate, "maternal" sort of birth, instead of the detached birth of Athena. And we know full well that Dionysos did not forget about either of His first two mothers. Persephone and Him famously get along well enough that they shared a rite in the form of the Eleusinian Mysteries, and it is to Persephone that initiates go, telling Her that the Bakkhic One Himself has freed us!

And we haven't even touched on Semele! It's one thing to have a divine Mother to welcome us to the afterlife. It's another thing to have a once-human-become-Goddess Mother in the form of Semele-Thyone. And Dionysos loves Her as well, very much so as well! Even though He never met Her as a child, He still very clearly has a lot of love for Her. At the start of the Bacchae, when Dionysos first arrives in Thebes, you will notice that one of the very first things He mentions in His monologue is that His mother is being disrespected by King Pentheus, and that this disrespect is part of the reason why He has driven the women of the city mad, as well as the sisters of Semele, who also were disrespecting Her.

This loyalty is only further emphasized by the fact that even though Semele is dead at the time of the Bacchae (and obviously after it as well, as the myth of Dionysos traveling to the underworld is an entirely separate story). And yet we must once again emphasize that this was written in a time where mothers were so often thrown under the bus (or horse-drawn chariot), and all of these myths were notably written by men, as far as we know. It seems that there is an inherent thread which ties Dionysos to the world of women, or at least has Him incredibly sympathetic to it, and one which could not be broken with all of the hyper-patriarchal nonsense that was woven deep into the cultural fabric of ancient Greece, especially Athens.

And to finish this fun little rant off, I want to offer two significantly longer ideas than the initial thing that I wrote! One for reflection on how we relate to Dionysos (and how He relates to us), and another as a reflection on Semele-Thyone and how She relates to us, and how we should relate to Her.

To start, this sympathy that Dionysos shows with women does, in some ways, hits culturally closer to a sisterhood than to the way that a man would have been encouraged to act towards women in ancient Greece. Dionysos as God understands His band of madwomen's own self-worth, and does not question their autonomy. Instead, he seems to encourage it, especially with all of the sassing he gives Pentheus while being grilled by him. This is such a good thing for all of us. Not only is Dionysos a friend of humanity, but He is specifically a friend for the marginalized. Whoever finds themselves marginalized in society will be His "favorites", so to speak, because that is where He truly finds His followers. It's almost as if He naturally finds where there is a power imbalance, and jumps on the other side to even things out, even if it is a little bit. I also think that this same "purposeful marginalization" is something which adds further theological credence to Dionysos being also validly a trans woman and nonbinary, as He does not sit within a patriarchal "Him"-ness, but rather within a "Him"-ness that refers to a more equal world.

Moving on to Semele-Thyone, we have a wonderful ally in a divine woman, sympathetic to humans, who knows full well not only the sufferings of humanity, and the pain in disrespect, but also the importance of kindness and respect towards others. In Greek mythological and religious canon, Semele-Thyone became the Goddess of the Bacchic revel, which, if you really think about it, isn't just about the Bacchic revel (it's never "just about the Bacchic revels"). This also tells us that Thyone, like Her Son, is also a God of the marginalized. Like Dionysos, She oversees the safety and wellbeing of the community which Her Son has founded. In some way, Thyone has become a Mom to all of us, through Her assistance with the divine inspiration that strikes frenzied devotees. It's a caring thing, too!

Anyways, the long and short of this is - Dionysos loves His Mom, Semele-Thyone is an incredibly underrated Goddess, and Mother's Day was yesterday. So hug your mom if you've got a good relationship with her, and if not, we can all borrow Dionysos' Mom :)

[pagannatural]

2.15 Tall Tales

-once again we have an earth-shattering revelation episode followed by silly sibling hijinks episode. Last episode Dean confirmed out loud he would rather die than kill Sam and that he is devoted body and soul to saving him. Now he is eating sloppily from a takeout container on Sam’s bed. Fascinating ecosystem.

-so Dean is on Sam’s bed. He likes hanging out and making a show of being annoying while lying on Sam’s bed. He must want Sam’s attention because it seems territorial. He’s licking his fingers and smacking his lips and being as loud and expansive as possible. Maybe Dean is reclaiming Sam in some way after he was possessed last episode by laying claim on his space.

-Sam asks Dean to turn down his music so Dean turns it up, and the song is actually so fucking perfect look at the lyrics

I could really just highlight the entire song. It’s about someone avoiding talking to the subject and the subject feeling out of their mind lonely about it.

It sets the tone for the whole episode and adds meaning to why they’re getting on each other’s nerves so badly. They’re avoiding talking about the big thing on their minds and subsequently picking at other things and at each other. Again, they’re lonely when there’s distance between them and they don’t feel they belong to each other.

-Sam and Dean recount their investigation into the case so far to Bobby. It’s a storytelling device that allows us to see into the characters’ perspectives and the ways in which they are unreliable narrators.

Sam recalls Dean being a sloppy drunk and basically asking him to have a foursome with him, a girl at the bar, and her sister. He recalls Dean leering at him and wiggling his eyebrows and Starla drunkenly hanging off of Dean, doing the same. It very much seems as though Dean and Starla are suggesting a small, incestuous orgie.

Sam turns up his nose because Dean is drunk and he thinks the girl is trashy and tanked. His judgment toward her is palpable and betrays his jealousy. It’s also a glimpse into the way he perceives Dean’s attempts at setting him up—he recognizes Dean’s interest in him sexually, he remembers when this happens, but he doesn’t think it’s serious because he thinks it’s about the girls rather than about him. Dean is a himbo in his story, kind of without intention or feeling.

Dean, however, describes hitting it off with a woman who is a classy grad student. He remembers Sam being extremely feminine and prissy and confronting him about making out with a woman like he’s Dean’s nagging girlfriend.

Trying to set Sam up is not a part of his story, instead he tells it like he’s the center of attention and Sam is jealous. It makes me wonder if Dean is self conscious about how he treats Sam, how he often involves him in his sex life. Later in the series Dean is described as “needy” more than once in the context of his relationship with Sam as a way to taunt both of them. It’s interesting that Dean would feel shame about needing Sam, whereas Sam’s shame is never really about needing Dean. This is one of the dynamics in their relationship that tends to operate consistently in the background for the entire show, and I see it as a birth order thing. Dean as the older sibling feels responsible for Sam, so he can’t be clingy and unhinged the way that Sam sometimes is without really thinking anything of it.

Dean also portrays Sam as feminine. Like, flamboyant. It’s probably easier for Dean to focus on Sam’s sexuality and make fun of him for being gay rather than take him seriously for being in love with him. So Dean is doing the same thing Sam is doing, dismissing Sam’s intentions and chalking his behavior up to something else.

Both stories are defensive in their own ways: Dean paints himself as totally uninterested in Sam. Sam paints Dean as indiscriminate and careless in his attentions but wanting Sam to join in. Common elements are Dean’s attention being on someone else and Sam being jealous. The variables are the why’s.

-Bobby: you’re bickering like an old married couple

Dean: no see married couples can get divorced

Okay so you’re not like an old married couple—not because you’re not married or because you’re not a couple, but because your connection is more permanent? Okay!

The brothers say they’re more like conjoined twins which is wild because regular siblings get on each other’s nerves plenty but they are not regular siblings and that description is not enough for them so they describe themselves as physically part of each other. Over and over we’re told that actually they are not “just brothers” like Sam said in Playthings.

-Dean was watching porn on Sam’s laptop. He eats in Sam’s bed and jerks off with Sam’s laptop and it’s like he’s a dog getting his scent on everything Sam touches.

-Sam gives Dean the sassiest look anyone’s ever given anyone

and I’m including it in this analysis because it’s giving major fem vibes.

-the alien story is actually super fucked up and horrifying, although it’s clearly played as a joke. The guy says he was probed and forced to slow dance. The brothers seem to be telling this particular story together in a shared perspective, because it’s already embarrassing for them to hear and talk about, and underneath the bickering they respect and understand each other.

-the next interview is Dean’s telling, and in it Sam is acting emotional and over-sympathetic and Dean says “you’re always saying pansy stuff like that.” Sam is once again caricatured as feminine and clingy. Dean puts a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder and says It’s okay, and Sam’s face crumples. So in Dean’s retelling, he’s Sam’s shoulder to cry on when Sam is over emotional.

- Dean is reasoning through the connections in the cases and says the punishments are almost poetic “or actually it’d be more like a limerick” and sorry was anyone going to talk about Dean’s knowledge and interest in poetry?? I LOVE poetry but I didn’t technically know what the fuck a limerick was (so I googled it) and it’s a short poem that’s funny or silly in content. Dean is well-read. It would make SO much sense for him to be well-read because when he was younger he longed for more of a connection to the world outside of Sam and John and being locked in motel rooms, and reading would have been a good way for him to do that. He seems to enjoy fiction and characters he can relate to. It probably makes him feel less isolated.

-The brothers’ arguments this episode reveal such interesting glimpses into their life. Sam says “I don’t lose things” which would have been important as a child living out of motels trying to maintain his grades and seem normal. He probably learned as a child that he can’t just forget his things somewhere and go back to look for it later or call people he knows. If he leaves something in a motel room, that’s it, it’s gone forever, they will never go back and no one is finding and mailing it to him. I wonder if that’s also why he’s so particular about Dean not touching his stuff, because he had so little that was his. He probably got Dean’s hand-me-downs, and he had to share Dean himself with their dad which he famously hated.

Sam also says that Dean’s socks are in the sink. The only reason I can imagine for Dean’s socks being in the sink rather than just like, Dean leaving his dirty socks on the floor, is that he must’ve been washing them in the sink. Do they hand wash their clothing in motel sinks? It must be more convenient than going to a laundromat sometimes.

Sam also comments on Dean’s food going bad in the fridge. I read a whole essay on how this connects to Dean’s food insecurity, which makes sense to me. It also could be that he’s just kinda messy and doesn’t throw away his gross old food. I think Dean tends to get messier the more stressed out he is. He’s one of those people you can tell how he’s doing mentally by how his space looks— if he’s angry he’s breaking shit, stressed he’s looking worse for wear, happy he’s got everything neat and clean and starts nesting. Not to mention taking care of the Impala, his and Sam’s childhood home, is his pride and joy and one of the only mainstays in his life. His self care is very visible.

He is stressed as shit right now. Maybe eating greasy food on Sam’s bed is a cry for help and wanting Sam to talk to him about everything but not knowing how to bring it up.

-they fight over some money. It’s really something.

They are rolling around in bed grunting. Sam initiated the physicality of this fight by tackling Dean. It seems like a shared telling of what happened, and a good time to remember that the brothers have told wildly different stories and are both trying to make themselves seem as normal, cool, and under control as possible in these stories. And yet still they’re telling about the time they were rolling around and grunting in bed passionately. I’ll just leave that there.

-Sam pauses on the rush to the car with Bobby after driving a stake through the trickster’s heart. He starts apologizing to Dean, sincerity on his features, and Dean picks up on his intention and assures Sam “me too.” They gaze at each other lovingly over the roof of the Impala until Bobby interrupts and asks them to move it along.

-episode theme is perception, deception, and things not being what they appear. The trickster (Gabriel) casts illusions and the format of the narrative highlights how differently Sam and Dean can see the same story. They’re not seeing each other clearly, and they’re hiding from themselves, and it makes them lonely.

[adragonsfriend]

Congratulations, It's a Boy!

Anakin: i think our kid is gonna be a girl

Padmé: I think our kid is gonna be a boy

Fandom: aww they were both right lmao

Me: actually Padmé was right, because while she gave birth to twins, neither of them were raised by Anakin and Padme, and when Luke and Leia learned about their bio-parents, only Luke ever called himself their kid.

Leia is an adult with agency and values who does not consider Anakin anything other than a genetic donor, and would actually hate for the person who tortured her and helped kill her parent and destroy her planet to be considered her father.

Genuinely the lack of respect for the concept of her adoptive parents being her actual parents, and the insistence that she gets all her traits from Anakin and Padme is incredibly weird. (Not aimed at AUs where Anakin is not a deadbeat fascist, write on). With Luke, Beru and Owen are so often erased from his story as though he was just always casting about for family—like he didn’t already have one—it’s insane. Like yeah he called them his uncle and aunt, but they were the people who raised him. Emotionally and logistically the roles they filled were those of parents.

This is for the other Double Agent Vader fans, but genuinely one of my favourite things about those stories is that they take the Organas seriously as Leia’s parents while allowing Anakin to also be important to her. They also take seriously that Luke lost Beru and Owen and was, yk, also still grieving at the end of A New Hope

Anyway I’m tired of hearing about how Leia’s righteous anger or her bravery and sense of humor are totally from Anakin and her involvement in politics is all Padme, when she has two caring, brave, intelligent, funny parents who were involved in both politics and the rebellion.

Tldr; Anakin and Padmé have one kid, his name is Luke, and the reason he’s their kid is because he, as an adult with agency and values, decided he was their kid.