#anyway i miss darren

[isogenderskitty]

i just learned that little white lie of all things is the FIRST thing to show up under "known for" on darren criss's imdb page and i am fully obsessed with that. starkid's ancient web series from before they were even called starkid. is the FIRST THING.

[buildarocketboys]

One thing about Blaine Anderson is that he will sing an emotionally overwrought song that makes absolutely no sense for the situation/context

[allpromarlo]

ravens football back in 29 minutes i can't believe it

[dykrophone]

"ACCIO ORGASM"

"jk rowling is NOT it!!!"

"anyway i wish malakai all the very best in this...new phase"

"ALSO not it"

I SCREAMED IVE MISSED DARREN SO MUCH

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 | ghostface!darren (pig) x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | he probably wasn't even invited to this party, because who would invite him? but he came anyways... just to torment you. far more than you could've imagined, in fact.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 2.5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | NONCON DARK SMUT 18+ ONLY!!, public sex, degradation, pain kink, knife kink, a bit of predator/prey, blood kink, smoking, unprotected sex/implied risk of pregnancy, darren is kind of an incel lmao

It was a pretty traditional high school party— overcrowded, loud and sweaty, bad music and worse liquor— but at least the sea of costumes, ranging from scary to silly to sexy, added at least some new layer of interest to the whole thing.

You hadn’t tried very hard with your devil costume— more accurately an attempt at a ‘sexy devil’ costume— but you put on horns and heels with a tight red dress and nobody can really complain.  You weren’t really here to get into the ‘spooky spirit’ or whatever anyways, just an excuse to drink and maybe chat with some people you’d been missing.

The person you ended up chatting to right in that moment, though, was exactly the last person you wanted to talk to.

You didn’t even know there was someone behind you until you felt him press up to your back, suddenly hovering right by you.  “Want a drink?” he asked, shoving a cup towards you, but you were too busy nearly jumping out of your skin to care— you almost knocked the drink over, actually some of it did splash onto another partygoer, but she was too drunk to notice.

“Fuck!” you yelped, turning to see the gangly boy behind you.  “Christ, Darren, do you have to always sneak up on a girl like that?”

He just smiled and tried to offer the drink to you again.

“M’already holding one,” you pointed out with a frown, “didn’t ya notice?”

“O-oh yeah,” he mumbled, lowering the cup finally.  “Costume looks good.”

“Thanks,” you shrugged, though you suddenly felt the urge to tug down the bottom of your dress.

“You’re not worried what the boys are gonna think with you dressed like that?” he asked, and you glared at him as you shoved his shoulder.  

“Don’t you think before you open your fuckin’ mouth?” you spat.  “What are you, anyway?”

The black robes didn’t really tell you anything— not until he reached behind his head and pulled a Ghostface mask over his face.

“Oh,” you snorted, “not the most original, is it?”

“Don’t like t’movie?” he wondered as he pulled the mask back again.

“I mean, it’s pretty good,” you relented, “but—”

“You wanna fuck ‘im, don’t you?” he insisted suddenly with a lascivious grin. 

“What?” you squinted.

“Ghostface,” he clarified, “you’re one of the girls who thinks he’s fit, yeah?”

“Why are you always such a creep?” you asked him with a grimace, but then you decided to change the topic quickly.  “Kinda thought you’d be a pig or something,” you admitted, “with the nickname and all.”

“Nah, that’s stupid,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms— which made you notice the prop knife in his hand.  It actually looked pretty good, shinier than most plastic costume knives.

Just then, Jimmy O’Doyle sauntered up beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders.  “Ay, little devil,” he greeted, flicking the red horns on your head as you smiled sheepishly.

He hardly acknowledged Darren, spare for a quick nod, but Darren was staring at Jimmy for a little too long before he looked at you again.

“Thought you said you didn’t want a boyfriend,” Darren said sharply, glowering a bit.

Jimmy scoffed and you shifted uncomfortably; Darren tended to be… what’s the word… desperate?  Clingy?  Overall bizarre?  He certainly couldn’t take much of a hint.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said first, though that didn’t really matter— you didn’t need any reason to reject Darren, outside of your natural self-preservation instinct.  He actually wasn’t bad-looking, but it was hard to tell past those leering eyes and the uncomfortable smile.  He wasn’t smiling now though… he looked quietly enraged, sipping pointedly on his drink as he glanced away for a moment.  

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Jimmy smirked at you, hardly waiting for your nod before disappearing back into the crowd.

Suddenly, as you felt Darren’s livid gaze from awkwardly close, you decided that you needed a little fresh air.  And by that, you really meant a cigarette.

Not wanting to tell Darren that you were going outside for a smoke, you instead mumbled some excuse about going to the loo— somewhere he was just sane enough not to follow you to— and bumped through the crowd until you found a door out into the neighbourhood.

There was a slight drizzle still going outside— more of a misting, really— that made everything all foggy and grey, spare for the yellow-y glow of the streetlamps dotting the way.  It wasn’t a full moon, as cool as that would be, but near to one… regardless, it wasn’t visible behind low, dark clouds, leaving the night starless and dreary.  There wasn’t much to look at in the alley as you lit your cigarette and took slow drags from it, so as you stared blankly forward at brick walls with chipping whitewash, your mind wandered a bit.  Nothing of great merit: upcoming assignments, the possibility of an afterparty, the lingering hope you could find a steamy hook-up for the night… you didn’t just put this outfit on for the pictures.

Before you could get too far into your imagination, you were startled by a distant sound, jumping slight as your head turned towards it— but it was just the dark alley, not much to see.  You squinted, trying to make out movement in the shadows, but for quite a while you couldn’t see anything.

Only when you turned your head back forward with a shrug was there any sign of what you’d heard, just a shift in the corner of your eye.  You looked at it again, and you hated to admit it, but your heart froze up for a second when that white face emerged from the darkness.

Of course, you gave your best unaffected scoff when you actually processed what you were looking at.

“Quit it, Darren,” you warned, willing your voice to sound stable as you shouted down the road towards him, “you’re not gonna scare me.”

You watched him move closer, stepping into the light so you could see him better, and tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck stood up.  If he knew he was getting to you, he’d just keep doing it; you rolled your eyes and took a drag through your cigarette to try to seem nonchalant… but you had to stop your hand from shaking just a bit.  Only because it was chilly out, surely…

You thought it was a joke— a stupid joke, but still just a joke— until he dragged his knife along the brick wall as he stalked toward you.  The sharp, high-pitched screech of metal against stone was unmistakable… and that was how you realised it was a real knife.  A very sharp, very real knife; he’s going to actually kill me, you thought, just before you let out a primal and instinctive scream.

Turning on your heel, you ran as fast as you could.  Each rapid pulse of your heart pumped adrenaline through your veins, and you felt so shaky that you worried the light night breeze would knock you over.  

These were far from running shoes, though— they were pretty excruciating to just stand in, actually— and it was only a few blocks of a chase before you tripped.  Yelping in pain, you tried to scramble up or even crawl forward… but just as you rolled over and winced from landing on your hip, you saw him stalking forward into the flickering light of a streetlamp.

He was probably just going to take the mask off and laugh at you, right?  Reveal the whole thing was a silly prank and the knife was fake and that he just wanted to prove you were scared of him.  Yes, that would be the most sane thing for him to do at that moment, even after being so not-sane by chasing you with a knife.  Instead, as you tried to crawl back, he just tilted his masked head curiously at you, and with his free hand reached down and palmed at his groin.  He was hard— you could see the outline of it through his costume, his hips rocking forward slightly into his palm as you heard a muffled hiss from his mouth.

He knelt down and grabbed your kicking legs, roughly yanking you closer and hovering above you menacingly.  “C’mon and scream for me,” he ordered with a delighted purr, pulling his mask back, laughing when what came out of you was more of a wail or sob instead.  “Louder, y’little whore—”

“Get off me!” you shrieked, trying to fight him away, whining as he laid down over you instead and licked your neck.  You turned your head with a grimace, shuddering as his weight pinned you against the slightly-damp pavement.

“G’na show Pig how tight the little hole gets when you’re scared— aren’t ya, fuckin’ slut?”

“Be serious, Darren— s’not funny, get away from me!”

You struggled less when he flashed the knife; as little as you could, in fact you actually nearly froze as he teased you with it, running the tip down the front of your dress with just enough pressure to pop a few sequins off, making you whimper in terror.  He laughed, though— a small, dark, chuckle.  “Quiet now,” he noticed.  “Don’t make a fuss, sweetheart.”

You had to bite your lip to hide a shout, though, when a gloved hand up slipped under your short dress, grabbing greedily at your lacy panties.  He licked his teeth, bared by his grin, as he stared at you with those haunting eyes of his.  “Wet, aren’tcha, girl?” he taunted— not that he’d be able to feel it through his black gloves, but past your own groaning you could almost hear it (though you tried not to).

“You’re such a creep!” you spat, though you tried to regulate your tone as you glanced at his knife again, held against you by one of his hands on your arm; maybe part of you still thought he would stop and admit it was a joke, but the darkness in his stare made you doubt that more and more.  The gravity of the situation still hadn’t really set in yet— sure, you were coursing with fear and had goosebumps all over, but it didn’t totally feel real.

“Won’t take too long,” he promised with a sigh as he hastily tugged his costume out of the way, still pinning you down with one hand (if not as effectively).  When he roughly yanked his cock out, proudly brandishing it between your legs as your eyes went wide… that’s when it felt real.

“Don’t,” you gasped instantly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.  “Don’t, Darren, please— you can’t—”

“Shh,” he hissed quickly, “s’good— gonna feel good, alright?”

He gasped loudly as he pushed inside you, eyes shutting tight before he dropped his head down onto your chest.  “Fuck, girl— what’s a whore cunt so tight for?”

Not wasting any time, he pulled his hips back and roughly thrusted forward into you again, making you choke on your cry.

“S’for me, isn’t it?” he decided with a sick sort of grin.  “Want Pig to feel good?  Like t’squeeze the thick cock, don’t ya?”

“I— I fuckin’ hate you,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes tight, in disgusted disbelief that this was happening— that it was him inside you, holding you down.  But you couldn’t forget it, not with him moaning and purring above you, mumbling stuttered praises… and the feeling of it, it was impossible to ignore, as much as you hoped to somehow.  It was a deep stretch, each thrust making your chest tighten out of more than just fear.

“Mmf, fuck,” he grunted, holding onto you tighter— another reminder he still had that fucking knife.  “Pretty— it’s a pretty thing… it’s warm inside…”

Grimacing, you hated the way your body responded to his lewd comments about it; your walls clenched on him slightly, you could tell by the way you felt even more sore inside than before.

He pressed the knife up against your neck, growling in amusement at your wince of fear.  “Think Pig’s gonna slice you?”

“I… I don’t know,” you stammered out your answer, eventually.

“Waste of a pretty face, no?” he smirked, moving the knife up and caressing the side of your face with it— not that it could really be called a caress, all rigid and cold like that… “Say please.”

“Huh?”

“Say please,” he repeated, “beg me not to hurt you.”

“Already are,” you sneered at him, but he pressed the knife to your neck with a little more intention— a little more pressure, a wild look in his eyes suddenly— as he insisted again.

“Wanna hear you beg,” he spat.  “Do it or Piggy might hurt you worse.”

“Please, please,” you whispered shakily, shutting your eyes.  “Please don’t, Darren…”

You gasped sharply as he pressed the knife down just enough to draw a thin line of blood, only to pull the blade away and lick hungrily at the wound.  Feeling dizzy and sick, you winced at the sting of his tongue lapping at your pierced skin, lips wrapping around and suckling as teeth dug painfully into your pulse.

He thrusted faster, recklessly so, and bit down on his lip as he breathed heavier.  You were too focused on how painfully deep he was going to really process anything when he started to slow down— that is, you felt that he was slowing down, and didn’t think for a minute about why he was slowing down.  

His loud, low groan gave it away; you snapped back to reality and looked up at him in a new kind of fear.  “Fuck, Darren, did you just—?!” you whimpered, squirming harder as you realised what he’d done.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed you sharply, hissing as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip.  “Stay fuckin’ still, girl— fuck, I’m still coming—”

You yelped and tried harder to fight him off, but he kept you pinned down easily, even forcing you into a rough and sloppy kiss.

He sighed into it after a second, relaxing on top of you until it was a little hard to breathe under his weight.  You whined and tried to break away, but the hand with the knife still in it held your jaw, the cold metal pressing threateningly against your face.

Whimpering and blinking up at him, you met his icy gaze and he smiled proudly down at you.  “Little devil, eh?” he smirked as he toyed with your horned headband, which had become quite dishevelled from all the running and struggling.  “Your blood matches the outfit— poor whore, red all over…”

“Darren,” you choked, fighting a sob of disbelief as you felt him pull out of you with a hiss— a steady, sticky leak giving away how much he’d come.  “What the fuck did you do?”

“Don’t be fussin’, girl, like I said,” he rolled his eyes, though he was still grinning wide.  “Ready to go back to the party now?  Or do you just want Pig to take y’home, sweetheart?” 

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Hey, y'all. I am struggling. With motivation, with ideas, with passion. Writing has always been my outlet and when the outlet isn't outletting... it's pretty fucking killer, I'm not gonna lie to you. I haven't read anything in literal weeks, either. Brains! Who'd have em?

Thanks to everyone who has continued to tag me over the last few weeks, and to @thighzp for the tag tonight. I really appreciate everyone who isn't just letting me disappear into the Void of Writers Past, which is basically my biggest fear lmfao.

Anyway. I have no idea what this is yet, apart from an attempt at a birthday present for a friend that stalled out and watched her birthday sail past, but!

Henry Fox is—allegedly—a pillow princess. It’s not like Alex has first-hand knowledge. He knows what a pillow princess is, because Nora once got very drunk and waxed poetic about how they’re underappreciated and unfairly maligned by the sapphic community. He also knows who Henry Fox is, because they shared a [something] class in freshman year in which Henry was tall and blond and British and annoying, and Alex didn’t miss a single opportunity to tell him that. But that was a year ago now, and Alex has never had any reason to think about those two completely unrelated pieces of knowledge in conjunction, except that his absolute least favourite lacrosse teammate is functionally incapable of having some fucking decorum, apparently.  “I mean, I guess it makes sense.” It’s not the first time Alex has internally described Darren’s face as punchable while Darren is running his mouth in the locker room, and it almost definitely won’t be the last. “When you’ve got a face like that, you probably don’t need to learn how to be good at it, you know? Guys will be lining up around the block to give it to him even if he just lays there.” “Including you,” Alex points out, because he has chronic can’t-shut-the-fuck-up disease and no real sense of self-preservation.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice

@everwitch-magiks @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

@indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @junebugclaremontdiaz @larkral @leaves-of-laurelin

@lilythesilly @littlemisskittentoes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @myheartalivewrites @ninzied

@nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls

@porcelainmortal @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail

@sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @thesleepyskipper @thinkof-england

@tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I saw a couple of posts here and on ao3 where you talked about how TOA Apollo has a stilted view of romantic relationships. Would you be comfortable explaining that, it got me really interested!

OKAY

SO

gonna be putting this under a cut for length

Apollo and relationships. Specifically, ToA Apollo and relationships.

let's see if I can formulate the thoughts into words.

Right off the bat, Apollo does have a hard time avoiding those red flags (hello, Commodus), so much so that he can see them...he just ignores them.

This already tells us that he doesn't have the healthiest view on relationships, or what specifically a healthy partner would be like.

In RRverse canon, these are all of his confirmed, canon relationships/love interests;

Hyacinthus

Commodus

Naomi

Darren

Latricia

Cyrene

Daphne

Sibyl

(I probably missed some asdfhjk)

Anyway, I've noticed that in canon, Apollo's relationships tend to fall into two categories; Sweet or Sour, we'll call them.

Now the majority on the list are Sweet! They are fulfilling relationships with no indication of any bitter feelings- Apollo is not shy about telling us about his love life, and certainly doesn't keep it from us when a relationship went south.

What I find interesting is that all three of the Sours can help pinpoint Apollo's more jaded/stilted view on romance.

Let's kick off with Daphne.

First things first, Apollo is quite literally forced to fall in love with her. Like. That has GOT to screw with a guy. What's more, is that when Apollo explains to us how Eros's arrows work;

What people do not understand: Eros’s arrows can’t summon emotion from nothing. They can only cultivate potential that is already there. Daphne and I could have been a perfect pair. She was my true love. She could have loved me back. Yet thanks to Eros, my love-o-meter was cranked to one hundred percent, while Daphne’s feelings turned to pure hate (which is, of course, only the flip side of love). Nothing is more tragic than loving someone to the depths of your soul and knowing they cannot and will not ever love you back. The stories say I chased her on a whim, that she was just another pretty dress. The stories are wrong. - The Hidden Oracle

There's an implication that he and Daphne may have actually been...friends. Or at the very least acquaintances.

It's never stated in canon when Daphne happened, and the mythology itself is weird about the timeline, but it certainly happened earlier in Apollo's life.

Imagine being forced to fall madly in love with someone you know and they are made to despise you.

The self-confidence definitely took a blow here.

What's more...

When she begged Gaea to turn her into a laurel tree in order to escape me, part of my heart hardened into bark as well.

Apollo tells us plainly that what happened with Daphne shook his views on romantic endeavors. Though, it didn't keep him from engaging in romance, either.

Now, back to Commodus real quick. We already covered the No Red Flag Bell with him, and honestly, I won't spend too much time here because I got a whole meta list waiting to dissect these two XD

But Sibyl reveals something else about Apollo and romance- sometimes, he sees it as transactional.

The story of Apollo and Sibyl does differ from the mythology of them- in mythology, Sibyl tricks Apollo into granting her a long life, and he kinda just shrugs and says 'okay, but you didn't ask for eternal youth either so...whoops?'

In ToA, Rick switches it up a bit by having Apollo grant Sibyl a long life after she jokes about it, and when she further rebuffs him, he curses her with no eternal youth.

Alas, I knew what I’d been thinking—that she was a pretty young woman I wanted to get with, despite the fact that she was my Sibyl. Then she’d outsmarted me, and being the bad loser that I was, I had cursed her. - The Tyrant's Tomb

I promised you life, not youth. You can have your centuries of existence. You will remain my Sibyl. I cannot take those things away, once given. But you will grow old. You will wither. You will not be able to die.

Yeah, it sounds like Apollo more or less curses her with no eternal youth here.

(Daily disclaimer that mythology Apollo's love life is actually very good and you should read up on it :3)

Back to the transactional thing-

"You cannot refuse payment." “Payment?” She balled her hands into fists. “You dare think of me as a transaction?” “I didn’t mean—Obviously, I wasn’t—”

Now, do I think Apollo sees all relationships as transactional? No. But let's consider the Olympian influence for a moment here.

Olympus in the RRverse is rather fucked, no doubt about it. The gods do not help without first being given something, and that permeates through their whole lifestyles.

Apollo's not being transactional because ✨misogyny✨. He's being transactional because that's what he's been raised to believe. If he gives something, he gets something back. That goes for all the gods, male and female and everything in between.

Bacchus helps the demigods in Mark of Athena because they paid tribute to him. Whenever a god extends aid, burnt offerings are made in thanks- which is probably part of the reason why Hera got angry with Annabeth when she refused to give her burnt offerings in The Battle of the Labyrinth after she helped her on her quest.

Apollo doesn't seem to be as picky as some (ie, The Titan's Curse, where he helps out to help out. You can argue he got his sister back in exchange but that's not really typical godly exchange lol), but it's clear that mindset has somewhat transferred over into relationships.

Now, I also want to talk about how Hyacinthus affected him- because let's be real, he was the one that affected him the most without outside interference (looking at you, Eros).

Apollo has told us time and again that Hyacinthus was one of, if not his greatest, love. His death really left a mark on him, and I am of the firm belief that it's that mark that made him wary of forming too close of a relationship with others- even when he tries to convince them and himself they are his One True Love™️, it falls flat inside his own head.

Because let's face it- that spot is occupied by Hyacinthus, and the hole he left in Apollo's heart.

This isn't to say Apollo loves his other lovers less- heck no! Love is one of his defining qualities. He has much love in him!

It's just that Hyacinthus had a particular impact on him, and how he views relationships.

*vibrates in Hyapollo multific* I have...my own personal ideas...on what that entails...

And we see how touch-and-go Apollo is with other lovers! As soon as Commodus becomes emperor, he's gone. And only comes back in disguise, never revealing himself until he kills him.

Naomi, Darren, and Latricia are all obviously loving relationships from what we can gather, but it's clear it was never long-term.

Cyrene, really, is where I'd argue he got the closest to a long-term relationship with a mortal-ish person, but even so, they aren't in a permanent long-term relationship either.

Hyacinthus, however? I can see he and Apollo maintaining an everlasting romance.

...Also because that is exactly what happens according to the Spartans and who are we to deny what the Spartans declared about their national hero?

The only other exceptions to this I can see are his relationships with the Muses and (hello, fellow Apricity shippers) Boreas.

But even so...the Muses give off like, 'married co-workers' vibes, if that makes sense, and Boreas is more or less a winter fling (fandom forgive me, you know I am a shipper🫡)

Anyway. Hope this rambling makes sense or at least provides a platform for someone to put coherent thoughts together lmao

In conclusion: sometimes Apollo is transactional in relationships because of the culture he was raised in, and he has commit issues because of just how hard Hyacinthus's death hit him :)

have fun pondering :3

[cinamun]

I'm sorry comment u bringing up Jayce being 37 just made me think of bad boys

Darren: *opening the door* Who the fuck are you?

Jayce: Hey, Mr. Drake, I'm Jayce

Darren: What you doin here?

Jayce: I came to take out Hope

Darren: Who?

Jayce: I came to take out Hope

Darren: How old are you?

Jayce: Im 15 Mr. Drake

Darren: Motherf*cker you look 30

FAM!!! I DID THE WHOLE SCENE AND YOU MISSED IT!!! it was highly requested during this whole thing about how old Jay was. I was fighting for my life staying true to him being a newly turned 18 year old freshman at UBrite!

Anyway! This is chapter 19! A great chapter to read through!!

[steddieas-shegoes]

This was a request from @lilonsnitch which is what started me opening up requests. This is the only request I’m posting for now because I had already done some of it, so this was just a quick thing. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT ❤️

Modern Migraine Steve / Part 2

Steve was having a no good, very bad day.

It started fine. Great, even.

He woke up in Eddie’s arms, he showered in Eddie’s arms, he even ate breakfast in Eddie’s arms.

When he left Eddie’s arms is when shit went downhill fast.

He had a dentist appointment he’d been putting off for months. Nothing major, just a cavity that needed filling.

The excessive drilling must have sent signals to his brain to render him useless, though. His head was pounding, and he knew within the next hour, he’d need to be in a dark room with no noise.

But he had work. And he missed a day last week because of a migraine.

It’s not that he was worried about money. Eddie seemed to have plenty, and no matter what Steve did, he rarely let him pay for anything.

But he liked his job. He liked his coworkers for the most part.

He liked having something to do.

But he knew there was no way he could work if this headache turned into a migraine, and statistically it would, though he was never good at statistics in high school.

So he drove back home, pissed off and in enough pain to want to cry already.

Eddie was sitting at the desk in the office when Steve walked in the back entrance to the bar, texting back and forth with someone furiously.

Steve wordlessly walked over to him, pushed him away from the desk, and sat down in his lap with his head on his shoulder.

Eddie’s arms wrapped around him and Steve felt himself relax.

His head wasn’t magically healed, but just having Eddie there was enough for him to hold the tension off for a bit longer.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

“Head.”

“Should go upstairs before it gets worse, love.”

“Wanna be with you.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head before he moved his arms away for a moment, probably to check his phone again, and bring them back to rest on the small of Steve’s back.

“Amber’s sick and Carly’s got class. I might have to work the bar tonight.”

He spoke softly against the top of Steve’s head, quieter than he normally would be to make sure it didn’t bother Steve’s head too much.

Steve couldn’t quite contain the whine he let out, but Eddie quickly kissed the top of his head again and ran his fingers up and down his spine slowly to keep him relaxed.

“I’m trying to get Darren to come in, but he has his daughters this weekend.” Eddie sighed. “Let me bring you upstairs and get you settled, okay?”

Eddie had already worked four nights this week from Amber being sick and it being busier than usual. It was starting to wear on him a bit as he was usually working for most of the day in the office and receiving deliveries. Steve could tell he was stressed.

He didn’t want to add to that stress.

He pulled away, wincing at the pain shooting up his neck at the sudden movement.

“I’m okay. You work,” Steve said, standing up slowly to avoid any more shooting pains.

Eddie stood too, pulling Steve against him before he could stumble away.

“Hey. You’re not a burden, so stop thinking you are,” Eddie muttered against his temple, ending his sentence with a kiss.

It was fucking weird how he always did that. Steve was sort of worried he could read his mind, but honestly, there wasn’t much he didn’t tell him anyways.

Pretty much since the first day, the day he’d handed him water with lemon slices on the side because he could tell he had a headache, Eddie just knew him. Inside and out.

“Can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, sweetheart. But I’m here.”

Like that was simple. Like Steve was used to it.

Even six months into their relationship he wasn’t.

Some mornings he woke up in bed alone and thought Eddie had finally come to his senses, completely forgetting that he was in Eddie’s bed, in Eddie’s apartment, in Eddie’s bar.

Some nights when Eddie had to work the bar, he was convinced he would come home and kick him out.

He had no reason for thinking these things; Eddie was incredible.

He was patient and caring and loving and kind. He was perfect.

But Steve had doubts, especially when he had migraines and Eddie had to take care of him.

Eddie started to lead him away from the desk and towards the stairs that led to the apartment.

Every step felt jarring, his head pounding along when his feet hit the steps.

When they made it into the apartment, Eddie picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, ignoring Steve’s protests.

He set him down on the bed gently, kissing his forehead and quickly leaving to follow the routine: water, ice pack, pills. Later: hot shower, head massage, sleep.

It was second nature to them both now, and Steve was grateful even if he was worried that he was too needy like this.

When Eddie had him tucked into bed, ice pack covering his head and water within reach, he leaned down to place a kiss to his lips.

“Love you. Text me if you need me,” Eddie whispered against his mouth.

“Mkay,” Steve said around a yawn.

He knew he’d wake up to soft kisses from Eddie, arms under his neck and legs to carry him to the bathroom for a hot shower. He knew Eddie would wash his hair, gently scratching his scalp to ease some of the pain. He knew Eddie would dry him off, dress him in his comfy clothes, and tuck him back into bed, curling around him to keep him safe.

He knew Eddie would do all of that because no one had ever loved Steve the way Eddie did.

(I did technically have a tag list for if this ‘verse ever got continued so here you go  @urallidjits @eddiemunsonswife)

[wrongcaitlyn]

I HAVE RAMBLINGS ABOUT TYT

Nico and Apollo def have geek out sessions over greek mythology like they are NERDS and Apollo def grew up having snippets of the Iliad and Odyssey read to him so the moment Nico showed even the slightest of interest in Greek mythology as a kid, best believe Apollo used that to warm up to him 😭🙏

ALSO I can just picture little Apollo curled up next to Leto as she read him all these different poems (I'd like to think she read to him in Greek and while Apollo wasn't completely fluent in Greek, he def understood it very well but then he lost it 😞)

Also, Leto definitely called Apollo sunshine, and that's why he calls his own kids that. Every time Apollo would ask why he was named Apollo, Leto would scoop him up and say it was bc he was the light of her life, and Apollo is the god of light, so ofc she named her pride and joy after the god of light

Anyways whatever u do don't think about sixteen year old Apollo drunk (and probably high) out of his mind, curled up in a hotel room that he hardly spent any time in wishing he could've spent more time with his mother before his father whisked him away and into the spotlight :(

UGH AND DON'T THINK ABOUT APOLLO READING THE ILIAD TO HIMSELF WHENEVER HE MISSES LETO

clearly I have very strong feelings towards the relationship Apollo has with his mother and the fact that he should've had more time with her but bc he was in the spotlight all the time as a kid he didn't get to :(

Wait, oh my god, did Apollo go to his own mother's funeral?? Bc like Will was in middle school when she died, right?? So would have he trusted Will enough to be alone in the house for a few days, or did he just not go?? And how many times did Apollo look at his sixteen year old son and realize that the neglect Zeus put him through (ignoring Apollo's very clear addiction in favor of making him famous ofc) was definitely abuse. HOW MANY TIMES DID APOLLO HAVE TO REALIZE THAT HE GREW UP TOO FAST EVERY TIME HE LOOKED AT WILL??? 😭😭😭

ALSO ALSO IDK IF IT WAS INTENTIONAL BUT HAVING APOLLO, THE PROTECTOR OF YOUNG BOYS, BE THE ONE TO RESCUE NICO FROM AN ABUSIVE SITUATION AND GAVE HIM THE RESOURCES HE NEEDED TO HEAL???? AMAZING

I think Kayla def tried to teach everyone that Will was friends with archery. Just bc archery is severely underrated 😞

(Only Piper managed to actually hit the target, and Jason somehow sliced his hand open??? He has a very faint scar now, and if someone asks about it while he's with Leo, then Leo will come up with the most ridiculous stories instead of telling them the truth 😭)

Also, I think you've mentioned it before, but did either Darren or Kayla try to teach him archery? Idk but the mental image is very funny and it probably took him a plethora of tries to hit the target and Kayla was probably so proud

ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG IM DOING THIS INSTEAD OF WRITING MY CREATIVE WRITING ASSIGNMENT (I love that class but also UGHHHHH)

HAVE A GOOD DAY 🫶

FIRST OF ALL THIS JUST MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO SEE LIKE AHHSDFHLSDFJ OMG TYT RAMBLES

the whole part about apollo and leto... YES YES YESLKJDSFASDF AHHH apollo was 100% raised on greek mythology and he does have various copies of the iliad and the odyssey and other myths, an old worn-down version from his mom which had been passed down to him in her will, and a bunch of fancy pretty ones bc if he ever sees a pretty copy of the iliad or the odyssey he WILL buy it.

i think that he did go through a phase where like,,, he was just completely uninterested in that sort of stuff, considered it childhood and whatever. but i think that eventually, esp when taking in will, he went through what i'll call the "dumb and poetic try-hard intellectual" phase where he actually did read through the whole thing, read through various translations, annotated some copies, attempted to learn greek (modern greek, not ancient greek lmao), and just in general getting in touch with his heritage bc he realizes, watching will who's so small and resembles him so much, that those memories of him and his mom were actually some of his happiest moments of childhood, not annoying ones. and so he does try to replicate that, despite having not left his family on the best of terms *cough* really bad onesSLKJDF

and as someone who had a parent speak to them in their language, knew how to understand that language, but refused to learn it themselves bc it was boring, there's gonna be such an intense regret there from apollo, thinking that he should've taken the opportunity to learn when he could. he definitely would still understand bits and pieces, maybe a few quotes that were his or his mom's favorites, but it's just a lot harder to learn a language once you've grown up ://

as for the funeral, he did not go, because he still wasn't on speaking terms with his father, and well,,, yeah. he didn't want to cause a scene, also didn't want to tell will much about it, but i do think leto left some things to apollo in her will that apollo had to fight pretty hard to actually get sent to him

and GOD the emotions of apollo watchign will grow up... AHSDFJ ILL NEVER GET OVER IT like its hard to accept but he eventually does recognize it. and it's painful but it also feels good to know that that'll never happen. to watch his son at 16 spend his afternoon doing homework, and at 17 having a healthy relationship with his best friend, and at 18 applying to colleges... it definitely makes apollo proud, but it also breaks his heart a bit. because he couldn't imagine ever forcing the childhood that he had on his son, and he has to admit that his father hadn't felt the same sense of protection or care, and that even though his mom did, she wasn't in a position to do anything that would truly help :/

ALSO ALSO IDK IF IT WAS INTENTIONAL BUT HAVING APOLLO, THE PROTECTOR OF YOUNG BOYS, BE THE ONE TO RESCUE NICO FROM AN ABUSIVE SITUATION AND GAVE HIM THE RESOURCES HE NEEDED TO HEAL???? AMAZING

KSDJFLKASJDFSD PARALLELS AHHSDHFHDSFJ no bc that actually just makes me so happyyyyy like yes apollo is a good father yes he always has been and yes he always will be!!!! to literally anyone who needs it. i love him so much. can you believe when i was first outlining this fic i was like "hm, yeah, he plays an important role, but like i'll make sure not to make him a major character or anything"

now we're here. apollo is probably like. the third most major character after nico and will. in greatest of luxuries, at least.

kayla absoluTELY tried to train everyone in archery, and apollo's trying to avoid it bc he's trying not to think back to 2002 when darren tried to teach him archery, and kayla has the exact same instruction style bc darren had taught her, and hes actually better than will and will's friends bc he's learned before, but he fails on purpose bc the memories are too painful because THEY WERE HAPPY-

sorry pollen is possessing me! it will never leave

ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG IM DOING THIS INSTEAD OF WRITING MY CREATIVE WRITING ASSIGNMENT (I love that class but also UGHHHHH)

this is SO real bc i am responding to this to avoid doing my lit essaysdlkjf

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK

[spaceorphan18]

So. Okay. Don't mind me as I indulge and think about things out loud.

So, I have a problem of when I get into something I have a tend to hyperfixate. (As, I'm sure, do many of us) And really, I think since I'm more aware of it lately, I have a better relationship with my media? I don't necessarily enjoy hyperfixation because it can be a lot of things. (Which this is not a judgment, I'm just thinking about how I understand myself better...)

Anyway... not even near the point I was thinking about. Listening to Darren on the podcast reminded me of when I got into Glee. Like -- really got into it during Season 3. And I devoured and I mean devoured every Chris and Darren interview that I could. And I think what happened is that one reason I've enjoyed Glee for so long, and enjoyed Klaine for so long is that I really adore both Chris and Darren so much.

And it's interesting because there have been things where I purposely don't get to know what's going on behind the scenes because I'd rather let the story just be the story. But I sometimes wonder if I like Glee and Klaine more because I have such respect and admiration for both Chris and Darren and what they did on the show.

There are other elements at play, I do truly enjoy the story, as it hits points specifically that work for me. So it's not all that.

But getting back to that rabbit hole I went down.

The thing about listening to Chris was that he was the first (and possibly only) time someone famous reminded me of myself. Especially when he was younger. Chris has got such a clever wit and such an intelligence about him -- and it's a shame that fame kind of clammed him up because in those early years when he was very much himself on the internet, it was kind of a special moment.

And then there was Darren, whose passion and joy about living has always been there, but something that I feel like gets missed sometimes beneath the charisma is an intelligence and a worldly-ness that I find myself often impressed as to how articulate he can be even when rambling on about even the most mundane of things.

They are both truly a treasure.

This post doesn't really have a point, other than I was just kind of reminiscing about how I kind of fell in love with the actors along with the characters. And I think that is a rarity.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Sparkle

cw. pre!release, gn!reader, step 1

pairing. tamarack x reader

notes. a cute anonymous request i received not too long ago. it made me think of the cute dialogue in step 1's prologue if the MC has a crush on tamarack and finds her special. first love, amirite?

"Oh no!!" Tamarack's sudden screech of dismay brings you to a halt.

You look at your neighbor in worry, "what's wrong?"

"I forgot my scarf at school!" Tamarack answers with a frown.

She's right, you realize. Where normally a muted pink scarf, hand-knit from Granny herself, rests on Tamarack's shoulders, there is nothing. Neither of you had noticed at all that it had well-loved scarf had still been in Tamarack's cubby when you left your schoolgrounds in favor of heading home.

Today was supposed to be a particularly fun day at the Baumanns.

Mom had work so you'd be spending the afternoon with the cozy family next door. Granny had made stollen the night before and you'd all be eating it together once you got home. Then once you ate your fill, it would be back to your normally scheduled programming.

You'd play in the confines of their backyard until the urge to explore grew stronger. Then you'd go off the beaten path and play in the autumnal woods surrounding the cul-de-sac until it was time to go home. If you were lucky, maybe Mom would even let you have your own sleepover.

While you doubted a missing scarf would be enough to ruin your day, it still is a damper on the mood walking home from school.

"Do you have an extra in your bag?"

"No," Tamarack sighs, shoulders sagging forward in disappointment.

You would have thought everything was in the messenger bag Tamarack brought everywhere. It's much like Mary Poppin's magical bag with how much Tamarack manages to squeeze in it. If she were to ever pull out a bed or a lamp from it, you wouldn't be surprised in the slightest.

"We can always go back to school and get it," you offer. You turn back around in the direction you came from. "Mrs. Murray might still be there!" The chances are slim but they aren't entirely zero.

Your teacher had been there when you left, at least. So were Qiu, Darren and Baxter who all planned on having some sort of dinner at The Diner Table before going to the Murray's for a sleepover. Maybe if you turn back now, you'll be able to catch them.

Tamarack shakes her head, sparkly hair dancing in the wind, "it's okay." The shorter girl shudders. Autumn may be her favorite season but not even Tamarack is a match for chilly weather without her scarf.

"Wanna wear mine? I'm not cold."

"Really," Tamarack brightens almost immediately at the suggestion.

You nod with a grin, "you let me use your scarf all the time anyway." So it's nothing to let your best friend wear yours when the shoe is on the other foot.

Your scarf unravels with ease when you tug at it due to the lazy manner you threw it over your shoulders earlier.

"We're scarf buddies now!" Tamarack puffs her cheeks in an eager grin, her fuzzy eyebrows angled for mischief. "Ones that switch scarves."

"Allow me, Miss Baumann," you mimic the honorable bows of knights in books and movies, accent posh and haughty.

Your actions only serve to make Tamarack giggle, hopping giddily in place. Her heavy bag jingles with her movements, thudding against her audibly. The giggles and hopping eventually subside but Tamarack's ruby eyes shine regardless as she wipes her clothes down with small hands. Once she deems them proper enough, she bows using her the ends of her overall shorts as a dress, curtsying. "Thank you, Knight [First]," Tamarack replies as regal she can manage.

You share another laugh as you straighten up. With your friend standing still for once, you set to work. It's not difficult at all but you still make careful work in wrapping it around your friend's shoulder as she often does, tying it just so.

It isn't Tamarack's handiwork but you know it'll stay wrapped squarely around her shoulders indefinitely until she decides to take it off.

"Oops," you giggle when you realize her hair has been smooshed under her scarf as well. "I'll fix it!"

Tamarack snickers as well, raising her chin although it doesn't truthfully do much to help you in moving her hair outside of its scarf prison.

Sparkle. Tamarack does nothing but sparkle.

From the shiny speckles dotted throughout her gold hair to how her eyes light up whenever she's excited. You wonder where she gets them from. Neither Granny or Mr. Baumann's hair sparkles. Maybe they did once long ago before they got old and the sparkles faded from their hair. But I've seen pictures of Tamarack's dad, there are few scattered throughout the drawing room in the Baumann family hair. He doesn't got any either.

As for the one picture you found of Tamarack's mom. (Something tucked far into the corners of the house that isn't easily seen in the slightest. It's the only complete family photo you've ever found of the Baumanns. Tamarack was very young in the photo, nestled in her mother's arms while everyone smiled at the photographer. If everyone was so happy in the photo, you wonder why it seldom sees the light of day.) Her hair is brown and there aren't any sparkles to be seen there either.

Maybe this means Tamarack's sparkles are something special. A Tamarack thing.

That makes a lot sense in your fifth grade mind.

Berry red eyes look up at you, framed by fluffy locks with sparkles interwoven in each strand.

Pretty...

"[First]?"

You blink with a start, "huh?"

Tamarack raises an eyebrow curious but she smiles despite her confusion, "come on let's go," she hops once more.

For a moment you wish you hadn't offered your scarf to the girl so you could bury your face in it. You still feel the fluffy soft strands underneath your fingertips. "Yeah, let's go," you follow after the forest-loving girl who has already started skipping ahead, unaware to your plight.

[lovewithoutresin]

TMATH TIME

Alright, everyone, I did a little number crunching earlier today. Though actually, for the sake of the most interesting bit to me, I’ll go ahead and share some numbers I crunched a few weeks ago here first, too.

I grappled a bit one day recently with being forbidden an actual canonical age for Jon. In typical Resin fashion I decided to see if I could at least sus out a time-frame. At first I was trying to figure out things like university ages, years in the workforce, and all of that, but then I realized we actually only needed three numbers to narrow down his age significantly - to within a two year time span, actually.

First, we take Jon’s own statement about A Guest For Mr. Spider, wherein he notes the following:

It was easy for me to miss at first because the two important sentences are separated by his own personal musings (classic Jon), but this gives us a time-frame of when these events took place, from which we can extrapolate his birth year given his age at the time. A Guest For Mr. Spider takes place in 1995-1996…

Aaaaand subtract 8 from both of those numbers for a range of 1987-1988.

This would make Jon canonically 29 at the oldest at the start of the series. Which makes him and Martin’s conversation wherein Martin declares himself “only 29” in season two especially hilarious. Was he also pretending to be like ten years older? No wonder Jon laughed.

ANYWAY, here’s where things get interesting today.

For reasons completely unrelated to any of the above, I went ahead and double-checked when Annabelle Cane had her incident at Surrey University. Interestingly, it’s one of a few statements where we have the actual concrete date of the event (November 11th, 2010, as it happened the Thursday before the statement was given on the 18th).

From there I randomly decided to start playing with numbers and ended up stumbling on… a LITTLE something. Darren Harlow noted Annabelle as being a student at the time, which we can ASSUME (for the sake of simplicity) puts her between 18-22 at the time of it happening.

Here’s where I get a little speculative. I checked into Annabelle’s own statement to Jon about her childhood encounter with the Web, and unfortunately she never does mention a specific age at which it occurred. Howeeeever… I think it would be pretty safe to venture a guess at the most obnoxious number possible, given they also did this with Jon’s childhood and Annabelle’s number of siblings.

GIVEN the very safe assumption that in the Weaver story, she’s eight years old, that would place the events of it anywhere from 10 to 14 years prior to Thought For The Day. That puts it between 1996 and 2000.

HMMMM. Looks at that date range…

MOREOVER, this would put her birth years between 1988 and 1992.

SO, with these facts combined, it is quite possible not ONLY for Jon and Annabelle to be the SAME fucking age, it’s ALSO very possible for them both to have had their first Web encounters within the SAME YEAR.

And that, personally, has me going pretty fucking crazy.

(Also, for them to be the same age, they must both be born in '88. Never let it be said that this show is subtle. At least, not always).

[aegor-bamfsteel]

Hello Bamfsteel. I have been following your blog for over a year now but I realize I haven't commented or reblogged much (I kinda avoid online interaction because I'm terrified of accidentally offending someone). But I cannot express how much I love your blog, and admire you for carrying on despite the hate you get from antis. I was already ambivalent about Daemon, but you got me rooting for him... and for Daena, Rohanne, and Aegor, the last of whom in particular is basically unanimously hated by the fandom (hell, one random tvtropes page even called him worse than Aerys the Mad King)!! So I'm grateful for your blog and hope you keep posting.

Anyway, as a fan of both the Blackfyres and Arthuriana, I'm currently planning to write an Arthurian retelling of Daemon I's life and was wondering about how he chose his sigil/heraldry. Twoiaf says that he simply reversed the Targaryen colors because that's what all bastards do. But I don't know if there are any other examples of this happening in canon.

On the contrary, I recall Jon saying to Arya in AGoT: "Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister."

So now I wonder if the 'black dragon on a red field' was actually Daena's personal coat of arms, and Daemon simply chose it after Aegon's acknowledgement as a symbol of defiance and loyalty to his beloved mother. I love the notion that the chivalrous-to-the-last-breath Daemon Blackfyre didn't care all that much for his terrible and blatantly unchivalrous 'father' and instead everything he did, from winning the squires tourney to rebelling against Daeron, was his way of making his mother proud and atoning for all the humiliation she had to suffer due to his birth.

Sorry for the long ask. I am just excited to meet a fellow Blackfyre fan :)

Hello, thesupercat. Thank you for the long ask, and putting up with my slow responses over the past year. I have a little more free time/motivation to write recently, so I’m trying to answer more questions. I’m glad that my posts could bring your fandom experience some happiness. If you ever write the Arthuriana about Daemon I, don’t be afraid to send me a link.

TWOIAF and Dunk actually have different origins of the Black Dragon sigil; Dunk claims “the arms of House Targaryen had borne a three-headed dragon, red on black. Daemon the Pretender had reversed those colors on his own banners, as many bastards did.” (The Sworn Sword) but TWOIAF actually says “Reversing the colors of the traditional Targaryen arms to show a black dragon on a red field, the rebels declared for Princess Daena's bastard son Daemon Blackfyre, First of His Name, proclaiming him the eldest true son of King Aegon IV, and his half brother Darren the bastard.” (TWOIAF Darren II) What a lot of antis miss in their analysis of Daemon and Aegor is conflating their actions with that of what the Reds said their supporters did (if Daemon didn’t create the sigil, it could be evidence that the rebellion wasn’t premeditated, which I believe) I actually had an interesting debate about which version of the origin of the sigil was more logical with someone (I’d taken Dunk’s word to be true), but it’s actually more interesting if the rebels came up with it, because you’re right (no matter what the wiki has to say about it) the reversed sigil color scheme alone doesn’t actually indicate illegitimate origin: it requires that and a diagonal (usually red) slash, called in heraldry a “bend sinister” (which was used in real life illegitimate sigils, like the cadet branches of the House of Bourbon, Conti and Condé). There are multiple examples of illegitimate sons/their descendants using the reversed colors of their father’s house and the bend sinister: Walder Rivers and Walder of Woodmere (a silver castle on a blue field and a red bend sinister, for Frey), and the cadet branch houses Oldflowers (ten white hands on a green field and a red bend sinister, for Gardner), Vikary (quartered with a white lion on red crossed by a gold bend sinister, for Reyne), and Bolling (quartered with a gold stag on a black field and an orange bend sinister, for Durrandon). The other illegitimate children whose sigils are described are variations on a family sigil without the inverse colors (Aegor Rivers, Brynden Rivers) or something completely different (Benedict Justman, Blackshield). Far from being a simple sigil that marks being illegitimate Targaryen, the black-dragon-on-red-field is a symbol of anti-Targaryen defiance that rejects the “bend sinister” marker for a different lineage of dragon (a cat of a different coat, I guess), which makes a lot of sense if you consider the war was due to disgust at the current Targ regime. Daemon technically had the right to use the Targaryen sigil proper since he was legitimized (look at the Velaryon boys), but I’m certain Da3ron would’ve forbid him because that would be “putting him on princely level” never mind that he is a prince as Daena’s son and Yandel knows this; he might’ve actually used a different style of arms before the First Blackfyre that we don’t know of (same with Aegor, who got the black wings on his Pegasus sigil due to House Blackfyre; I headcanon him using a plain blue field during his youth, for the Riverlands), or even the sigil we know of with the bend sinister (which the rebels removed acclaiming Daemon their legitimate king waging war against an illegitimate usurper; also as a Targaryen bastard, Da3ron could’ve had the same sigil as Daemon which the rebels wouldn’t have wanted). But, you seem to be correct that whoever created the sigil put more thought into it than “reversed color scheme is what all illegitimate children do”.

There are two women described as having personal arms: Rhaenyra Targaryen and Barbrey Dustin, ruling ladies with important family connections. The Targaryen sigil is also often personalized to distinguish between brothers and cousins (Aerion, Prince Daeron, Valarr, Maekar all have variations on dragon position, color, borders, number), though usually not for the king or his heir except in civil war conflicts (both Rhaenyra and her brother Aegon II have variations on the Targaryen sigil. Which I guess makes sense why Daemon’s supporters wanted a separate Blackfyre sigil). Daena was also acclaimed queen by some, and according to a GRRM answer wanted to be queen, so it’s possible she had a variation on the Targaryen sigil as personal arms. It’s interesting that the most popular variation on using house sigils is when the person wants to honor their mother’s family: Harras Harlaw (Serrett peacock), Joffrey/Tommen/Myrcella (Lannister lion, which Jon thinks is overly proud), Cleos Frey (Lannister lion), Benfrey Frey (Rosby chevronnels), both Big and Little Walder (who quarter the Frey castles with sigils of their mother’s and grandmother’s families), and Harry Hardyng (quartering the diamonds of Hardyng with 2 Falcons for his Arryn grandmother and 1 broken wheel for his Waynwood mother) all incorporate their mother’s/grandmother’s family sigils to show their high lineage. Even Rhaenyra Targaryen quartered her two red dragons with the Arryn falcon for her mother and the silver seahorse for her first husband. It’s entirely possible Daena, famous for wearing black during her youth and twice uncrowned, incorporated a black dragon into her personal arms (though I like to think she also incorporated the Velaryon seahorse for her mother’s family, to better differentiate herself from the “usurper branch” of Viserys II), and Daemon accepted the nickname “the Black Dragon” partly to honor her (the connection between them wearing black was one of my earliest hc posts). That Daemon’s descent from Daena is emphasized in the same sentence as his supporters creating the black-dragon-on-red-field banner could be seen as connecting the reversal of “traditional Targ arms” to her, as being “Targaryen on both sides” was used at least in Rhaenyra’s case as a mark of better legitimacy. Tl;dr if you want to say that Daemon’s battle sigil is a black dragon to honor Daena, there’s enough symbolic connections considering other examples of personal/illegitimate arms to make that argument, especially for a fanfic.

I hope you have a good rest of your day. My askbox is always open if you have more questions, though response time may be slow.

[chocolatepot]

The Crow Road and Good Omens

When I watched season two of Good Omens for the first time, I noticed that Crowley throws Muriel a book at random near the end of the finale, but I didn't pay a ton of attention to it, because there was a lot going on. Then I started a second watch where I took notes on things that struck me, references or lines that couldn't just be random but had to merit a closer look. One of these things was the fact that Metatron asks Muriel about their book and they hold it up extremely conspicuously (twice) so that the title, The Crow Road, is very obvious. It seemed impossible to me that it was just a random book, so I ordered a copy from the library and settled in with it.

(The only copy in the system is held in the library my mother runs in another town. Coincidence? OR FATE?)

The Crow Road

The Crow Road is a hard book to sum up. There is a relatively straightforward "present day" plotline from a single character's perspective, but much of the book (particularly in the first half) consists of flashbacks.

I'm going to sum up the family relationships first, for simplicity's sake. Margot and Matthew McHoan are the parents of Hamish (married to Antonia), Kenneth (m. Mary), Fiona (m. Fergus Urvill), Ilsa, and Rory (who has been missing for years). Kenneth and Mary are the parents of Lewis, Prentice, and James. Fiona and Fergus are the parents of Diana and Helen), and Fiona is dead by the start of the book. Fergus's sister, Charlotte, married Steve and had a daughter, Verity. Rory dated Janice, who had a daughter, Marion. There is also an unrelated family, the Watts: Lachlan is in Kenneth's generation; his brother's kids, Ashley, Darren, and Dean, are in Prentice's.

Prentice is the main character, though the other bolded names are important. He's a middle child, jealous of his older brother (a successful comedian) and dismissive of his younger one (who barely turns up on the page anyway); he's in love with the gorgeous and unattainable Verity; he has simultaneous superiority and inferiority complexes that make him moody and self-righteous, sure that he's smarter than everyone else but at the same time terribly insecure. Relatedly, he's estranged from his father because he believes there's an afterlife and his father is a committed atheist.

The main plotline begins at Margot's funeral and cremation in 1989. Prentice leaves the post-funeral gathering (after Margot's body has exploded in the oven as they forgot to remove her pacemaker) for the pub, where he catches up with the Watts - he's at university and not around town. Ashley gives him a piece of the Berlin Wall and tells him that when she was there, she came across some man saying that the McHoan family was being tricked.

He starts to investigate the disappearance of his Uncle Rory, finding Janice and getting some of his papers from her. Weeks(?) later, he catches Verity and Lewis canoodling at the Hogmanay party at Urvill Castle; the next day at another party, he gets blackout drunk and embarrasses everyone by screaming at them. The next morning, told off by his mother and having a terrible, horrible, no-good day, he leaves his bag on the train - including all of those papers, only half of which he'd looked through.

After a dinner with Ashley in the city where she also tells him off for his poor choices (he's also failing at his classes and has gotten caught shoplifting), he gets a call to come home because his father has died: he was struck by lightning while climbing a church. Prentice starts to wonder more seriously about Rory's fate, now, and looks harder for clues. After they bury Kenneth and Lewis and Verity get married, he finds some old floppy disks in his parents' home marked as Rory's. Ashley realizes that the man from Berlin is actually a news correspondent who reports for the BBC around the world, and takes the discs to get investigated by her techie friends.

While he waits, Prentice finds some old diaries of Rory's as well, borderline incomprehensible because they're full of abbreviations. He goes with Ashley to a bar to find that news correspondent, who turns tail as soon as he sees him and mysteriously flees. Finally he gets the info from the discs: it's a narrative about Fergus catching Fiona in bed with Lachlan Watts, telling Rory about it, and then deliberately driving aggressively to cause the car accident where she died. This helps Prentice put together a strong theory that Rory went to Fergus to say he knew what had happened and Fergus killed him, then got the journalist to send then matchbooks from all over the world to make it seem like Rory is still alive. He goes to see Fergus about this, not being completely direct but still ... and that night the house is broken into and he's attacked, the intruder getting away with nothing.

Later, Fergus crashes his Cessna into the Atlantic after presumably having a heart attack in it. Not very far from the crash site, the police soon after come across a motorcycle with a body tied to it that is determined to be Rory, killed with blows to the head. The Bentley Eight Fergus left to Prentice in his will (originally it was to go to Kenneth) has a paperweight in the glove box that exactly matches the description of the murder weapon. Around this time, he completely loses any faith he had in religion.

Now that loose ends are tied up and Prentice is making better life choices, he and Ashley get together, fuck, and admit that they love each other - but she is still leaving for a job in Canada, and she says she'll come back once he's done with university (he's repeating a year) if he still loves her. He also goes back to Urvill Castle, where his cousin reminds him of a time they were all drunk/high up in the observatory and he was going on and on about the wonders of the stars and how they were better than religion, which spurred her to become an astronomer. The younger members of the family go back up there in order to do a determinedly unreligious "christening" ceremony for Lewis and Verity's baby, Kenneth.

Along the way in all this, there are flashbacks to Kenneth's childhood, youth, and young parenthood; to Rory's POV; to Prentice as a teenager - all of these help to build their characterization, and also that of other characters, as well as to drop clues about what Fergus did and what Rory was doing.

What is the Crow Road?

The "crow road" refers to three separate things in the book.

"Away the crow road" is a euphemism of Grandma Margot's to mean "died".

It's a literal road in their town, where Janice lives.

It's the title of the work Rory was building around the whole Fergus-Lachlan-Fiona story before, I assume, he realized that Fergus killed Fiona.

Death and Religion

Death is ... pretty central to the book. It starts with Margot's death, we're made aware of Fiona's at the funeral, we find out that Prentice and Kenneth's estrangement stems from Ashley's brother Darren's death in a motorcycle accident, Kenneth dies, Fergus dies. Prentice also gets to live in the home of an old rich woman who died while her will's being sorted out (a la Jarndyce v. Jarndyce) after his father's death, when he's turning his life around.

That estrangement is generally over religion, but more specifically Prentice's belief in a soul and afterlife. He has to believe that there is something of Darren that will go on, and Kenneth thinks this is utter stupidity. Kenneth has a lot of lines regarding religion/Christianity that, if tweaked to accept the existence of God but rejection of the religion and philosophy around said god, sound quite Crowleyish - religion is used to justify evil, the concept of original sin is inherently unfair, etc. And by the end of the book, when he tosses the paperweight that killed his uncle into the sea, Prentice has come to agree completely with his father.

Hamish, Kenneth and Rory's older brother, has his own spin on Christianity that's charmingly batshit and heretical. He thinks bad people have exactly the things done to them in the afterlife that they did to hurt others, and that there are versions of everyone alive there for the dead to interact with. After Kenneth's death he's completely shaken and briefly goes back to ordinary Christian beliefs before spinning off again. He comes across as deluded the whole time. He also has a line about God being a "strict father" which prompts Prentice to consider God as a child-abuser.

Toward the end, there's a flashback with Rory, who says he briefly had the belief that by humming a particular low note he could affect tv screens, but then he realized that it was vibrating his own head and only affecting his perception of them. The point of the flashback was for him to suggest that Fergus may not have even seen Fiona cheating (he was drunk), just imagined it, but it's not hard to see a critique of religion in this as well.

Love and Sex

Ohhh, is there a lot of these in the book. It's quite horny! Prentice hooks up with Marion as a teenager in an old car in the garage, which they basically destroy by accident; he also fucks her mother, Janice (who then takes up with his roommate so he has to be aware of them fucking all the time); he's constantly burning with lust for Verity - but Ashley is the only one he seems to actually love. Lewis and Verity have sex at the Hogmanay party. Kenneth and Mary have sex in a boat before they get engaged. Rory sees Fergus trying to get Fiona into bed at a wedding before they get together, and of course there's Fiona and Lachlan. Not to speak of the talking/thinking about masturbation present in many of the adolescent flashbacks.

There's also a lot of familial love. Kenneth loves the children (all the children, really, not just his own; he writes stories and creates games for them), Mary loves them, Margot loves the family, Rory and Prentice love each other. The Watt siblings love each other, coming together to destroy the concrete litter bin that killed Darren. Lewis and Verity love each other, and by the end, Lewis and Prentice are loving siblings again as well (nobody cares about James), and they both love baby Kenneth.

War

It doesn't really come up in my summary, but war is a strong part of the setting. The "present" of the book runs through the Gulf War, which is of great importance to the characters - they worry about a draft, they criticize both Saddam Hussein and the US's capitalist motives, at one point they consider it possibly the beginning of World War III. Kenneth's childhood is also during World War II: in one flashback, Lachlan explains to Kenneth and Fergus that his father uses their bread to strain green dye out of petrol to sell on the black market (technically postwar, but still during rationing).

So, How Does This Relate To Good Omens?

Well, all of these things are very much present in the show!

The main characters and the backdrop of Armageddon are of course drawn from the Bible, and it's hardly an uncritical use of a religious source - Heaven is no better than Hell, God is absent, and Crowley and Aziraphale are right for standing together to create their own side; as noted previously, it feels very in line with Kenneth's thoughts on religion as an institution. Death and war certainly come into it, though mostly as something to be averted in season one and presumably in season three again, and love is ... well, love is the point. They love each other, they love Earth - they love the universe, Crowley created all those marvelous stars. The ending of the book specifically lines up with the ending of season two, in that the main characters who love each other are temporarily separated. And of course, the story structure that's chock-a-block with flashbacks is highly reminiscent of season two, with its historical minisodes cut in with the present-day scenes to highlight important character background and parallels.

I don't think anything from the plot of this book is meant to be a clue as to plot developments in season three, although I don't think it's entirely impossible for the way the mystery of Rory and Fiona's deaths is solved through finding an answer in Rory's writing to be a reference to Aziraphale's diaries. But there is so much going on in the book that it's hard to pick out what it could be - working through Rory's papers/files is actually quite a minor part.

If it is supposed to presage something (rather than to be an easter egg so people who know the book can go, "oh, that book really works with this show!"), I think it's more likely to hint that Muriel is going to learn to think for themself and reject Heaven's orthodoxy, or else to more generally refer to Aziraphale realizing that he can't fix it.

[robynator]

the missing member is such a great episode, with so many incredible moments. i was hooked from the very first song. jess's vocals and the introduction of zach's character were pure gold already

zach just standing there, the perfect image of a cynical, brooding detective, letting mano light his cigarette, before jess came in with the "he's not smoking, that's a vape..." line (while she's desperately trying not to laugh). and then he immediately names the character darren vapes

the names in general were hilarious. the obvious ones being darren vapes, mayor laguardia and mayor newark airport but scarlet easylay in the beginning was pretty funny as well

then there was the mild homoeroticism of the catch me if you can song, and the way more blatant homoeroticism of the song between darren and mandy

there are so many other things (like the hamster wheels and jess's long note during catch me if you can and the urchins) but the true highlight for me was zach constantly monologuing at the camera. cracks me up every single time. he embodied that character perfectly

anyway i just needed to talk about this episode