#the story makes no sense but i like to see these bastards existing

[shinehalley]

I'm weak for movies that are a little confusing, a little messy and clearly of questionable quality, but with characters so likable that I find myself watching them again and again and again just because of them.

[falinscloaca]

theres like, two levels of “playersexual”.

the first is the authors making all the romance options bi, which. like technically it can often stem from the same mechanical reasoning as “true” playersexuality (omfg im gatekeeping?????), that its easier, more efficient, or more equitable to just have all the options available to any character setup. in that sense theyre absolutely taxonomically related, but from a semantic and ethical point of view it seems kinda dogshit to reduce textually bi (one way or another, theres a lotta ways to do that) people to a mere practical development choice? like dude i think that characters just bisexual its kinda fucking wierd to frame his ability to be attracted to [character in context thats not the pc’s gender] and also romance the player character as some sort of “lazy writing shortcut”.

the second is far more nebulous as it exists more in what is LACKING than what is there. the anomalous ‘real’ “oh actually this was just a studio being either programming/writing lazy or like. genuinely just bizzare on a spiritual level”. skyrim romance is roughly egalitarian in implementation but there is effectively 0 external queers aside from two dead guys on an island and Possibly this one vampire from the morthal quest who seems like shes grooming a child? its a world absent of same-gender relationships but incapable of recognizing the player as anything extraordinary in that respect. romanceable npcs showing attraction to other npcs is rare in general, even, though going back over it in my head my initial presumption of it being completely absent is verifiably false. i think. ANYWAYS this theoretically would also include characters whose textual sexuality CHANGES to match the player character, which -discounting allowances for potential watsonian mischaracterization (i.e. a character being labeled gay by an unreliable commentator in a save in which they end up in a same-gender relationship, and other such things) can show up in really weird ways like ok in stardew valley i’m not actually saying Leah’s ORIENTATION necessarily changes but her ex’s gender specifically changing to match the player is SO FUCKING WIERD WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT. LIKE WHAT IS THAT EVEN IMPLYING?! WHUH?!!?

[scaredpigeons]

A debt, recurrent.

A sequel to A debt, repaid.

BSD Ogai Mori x fem!reader

NSFW 18+ MDNI

Authors Note: I had previously skirted around the idea of writing something that directly involved Elise, just because her existence is like— one of the major icky points of this character, but I had a request to do like a nanny!reader x mori, and I was like “how can I do this in cannon universe while making it make sense while also making sure it isn’t gross.” And this is what popped out. In this story, it is implied in this that Mori does not actively use Elise in any sexual activities, even though I have no idea if that’s been confirmed or denied in the manga/show. I just prefer the thought that he hasn’t. Makes me sleep better at night. That being said, I still don’t condone any actions associated with this character/the entire Lolita-loving trope, but being able to interact with things that have caused me trauma in the past in a Safe space makes me very horny happy. and I am so uncomfortably horny for this old man.

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: Mori needs to go to a meeting, and needs someone trustworthy to watch Elise. She chose you, much to your displeasure, and you spend the evening catering to her every whim. Mori returns home to find you in a vulnerable state, and who is he to refuse such a gift?

PLEASE READ WARNINGS BEFORE READING! DARK CONTENT WARNING! READ RESPONSIBLY!

CW: technically non-con somnophilia.(sexual actions while one party is asleep) Reader is into it, even though she tries to deny the fact that she is at first. Mori has very dark and possessive thoughts towards reader, reader doesn’t wake up until Mori is actively (p in v) fucking her. Touching, oral (fem receiving) fingering, very little vaginal prep, creampie, dirty talk. Mild aftercare, though it’s implied that he’s not actually done. ELISE IS NOT INVOLVED IN ANY NSFW CONTEXT, AND IS ACTIVELY TAKEN AWAY AND TUCKED INTO HER OWN BED BEFORE MORI DOES ANYTHING TO READER

You flinched at the sound of the door to the lounge swinging open, and very light footsteps accompanied by heavier, slower ones. 

You were just trying to have lunch with your coworkers, and you certainly weren’t expecting to interact with the boss today, or his… ability.

”hmm…” the little girl seemed to tap her foot in thought, and you kept your head down, though if you looked up and to the side, you could see her shoes in the corner of your vision. You could see his shoes too, standing directly behind her. 

“I want to play with… that one!” She said with a demanding tone that really grated your nerves. It’s not that you disliked children, you just despised spoiled brats, and Elise was notorious for being just so, which was exactly what Mori wanted from her, the sick bastard.

”Are you sure, my dear? That one has a bit of an attitude, I don’t know if she’d make the best playmate for you tonight.” 

Your heart sank into your stomach. There were only two women in the lounge today, yourself and another young recruit who was well known for keeping her nose down and following orders without question. 

Is it too late to throw yourself out a window? You're only on the fourth floor, it should be fine, right? 

“I said I want that one!” The girl, if you can even call her that, stomped her foot with furious impatience. “Did you not tell me I could have whatever I wanted today, Rintaro?” 

The boss of the port mafia sighed, the smile reading through his voice— you could hear it in his tone, though you refused to look up, still staring blankly at your sandwich as if you could disappear into it if you tried hard enough. 

“Yes, that I did, my darling.”

Mori called your name, making everyone in the lounge snap their gaze to you. 

If you weren’t so pissed off, you might’ve felt your cheeks heating up. 

You stood, setting your sandwich to the side as you made your way to stand in front of your boss, back straight and eyes forward. 

“Yes, boss.” 

“Come with me, I have an assignment for you today.” 

The entire walk to his office was silent, save for Elise whining about not wanting to see another tailor for another year. The girl seemed adamant about having enough dresses to last the rest of Mori’s life, and even threatened to cut that life short if he pushed her any further. 

Could she even do that? Could an ability kill its user? You almost hoped she would actually try it. 

When inside Mori’s office, he sat, gesturing for you to take the seat in front of his desk—which was strange, as most of the time his underlings would just stand to receive their orders. 

Elise just wandered off, sitting in the corner with her pencils and paper. 

“I’m going to be out for the rest of the day, well into the evening, and I need you to entertain Elise for me while I’m gone.” 

You knew this was coming, but it still felt like a lead brick was sitting in your stomach. 

“Why can’t you take her with you?” You hissed. 

“I’m going to neutral ground for a very important meeting, where the usage of abilities will be prohibited.” Mori rested his head on his folded hands, his dark eyes flickering between yours, face unreadable. 

“Then why can’t you just send her away?” You said, eyes flitting to the side as you kept your voice low, not wanting her to throw a fit because you were talking shit. “Just… release the ability, or whatever?” 

Mori smiled, his head tilting to the side. He reminded you of a venomous snake. Beautiful to look at, dangerous to let close. 

“It takes a lot of energy to reform her once she’s gone, you know. I have to be at peak condition in case of emergencies. Why else do you think I keep her around, give her a room on my floor of the building, and take her with me wherever I go?” 

Because you’re a fucking pervert. 

“Because you’re sick in the head, Rintaro!” Elise voiced your thoughts aloud, chucking a crayon across the room that smacked your boss directly in the side of his head with an audible thwack. 

Huh. Maybe the kid wasn’t so bad after all. 

He merely smiled, as if he was as happy as he could possibly be. 

“So you see, I need someone to watch over her, someone trustworthy, and entertaining.” He said, looking at you from beneath his long lashes. “And she just so happened to choose you.” 

“You think I know how to keep a kid occupied? I’m probably the least entertaining person on the fucking planet.” You hissed, white knuckling the arms of the chair. 

“I don't know,” he said, voice low and teasing. “I find you very entertaining.”

You certainly felt your face warm that time, and you couldn’t necessarily blame it on anger. You were pissed, sure, but it couldn’t be that hard, could it? 

“Fine.” You said, crossing your arms across your chest. “But you owe me.” 

He raises a sleek brow at you, as if surprised by your words. 

“I owe you?” He said, voice light and airy. Deceptive, poised. Ready to strike. “What makes you say that? Am I not your employer? Do you not take your orders from me, from those above you in rank, little one?” 

“Babysitting isn’t in my fuckin’ job description, asshole.” You hissed, somehow not afraid of the consequences. “So you owe me one.” 

What, do you think he’ll give you special treatment because you let him fuck you? 

Surprisingly, that almost seemed to be the case, as he merely relaxed back into his chair and smiled, his tired eyes roaming your body without a care in the world, as if you weren’t paying attention. 

“Very well. If I’m satisfied with Elises care, I’ll owe you one.” He said. 

Suddenly, his eyes turned very dark, his smile a tad more menacing. A snake in the grass, showing its colors. 

“However, if she is displeased with your performance, I’ll have to implement some kind of corrective action, yes?” 

You glanced off to the side, looking at where Elise was sat, scribbling on the paper in front of her like it wronged her somehow. 

“Deal.” You said. 

How hard can it be?

————————————

Mori must've said something to the staff on his level, because once he left, Elise dragged you to a floor of the base that you’d only ever been to once before, and all the guards simply ignored your presence entirely. 

They opened doors for you and the girl, closing them behind you, but otherwise there was no acknowledgment that you might’ve been somewhere you weren’t supposed to be. Completely unlike the last time you snuck in here, having to wait until the guards were switching shifts to sneak in unnoticed. 

Elise was bratty, demanding, borderline unbearable. But you squared your shoulders and muscled through, just like you would any other job. 

After dragging you around aimlessly for what felt like hours— she wanted a tea party, but you had to follow the dress code to enter, as per her rules. Which means you had to drag her all the way down to your apartment so you could bring that stupid fucking dress you’d bought upstairs, changing into it in one of the many bathrooms lining the halls. 

Elise seemed satisfied though, and spent time putting little clips and bows in your hair, lining your wrists with bracelets and your neck with a couple little necklaces. 

She requested sweets, and real tea, though you weren’t entirely sure if you brewed it properly, but she didn’t complain, only sipped it from her pink tea set and poured her gigantic teddy bear another cup. 

“Do you really have to keep up the act even when he’s gone?” You asked, though you kept your voice small, as not to offend her. 

“I am what he desires me to be.” She simply said, eyes closed, prim and proper as she sipped her tea, like a little girl pretending to be a princess. 

“Were you always like this?” You asked, cringing a little. 

“No.” She said, huffing. “People change, but Rintaro’s always had a few screws loose, so it only makes sense.” Hearing her speak such words in such a tiny little voice almost made you giggle. 

”I suppose he’s lucky he has you, or he’d probably be in prison.” You rolled your eyes, then realized what you said, finally laughing a bit. “You know, for things besides being the boss of the port mafia.”

To your surprise, she let out a snort, sitting down her teacup as she giggled a bit. 

“I’d like to see him locked up.” She said, “He wouldn’t last a day in there without me!” 

That made you snort too, picturing your boss without all the luxuries of his rank was certainly amusing. 

Your sick curiosity got the better of you, and you weren’t sure if she would answer, but you really wanted a reason to hate Mori, to get over the strange, twisted feelings that had been brewing in the pit of your stomach, so you tried to ask anyway. 

“Has he ever…” 

Her eyes thinned, and it didn’t look entirely like anger, but she certainly wasn’t giggling anymore. 

“If your ability conjured the perfect knife to cut up strawberries for cake, would you turn around and try to use it to brush your hair?” She asked.

Your brow furrowed, trying to wrap your head around what she was saying. 

She rolled her eyes, scoffing at your confusion. “I am a weapon. Whatever form I take is irrelevant to my use. You would want your knife to suit your own personal ideals, would you not?” 

She didn’t outright answer the question, but you think you get the point. Considering your strange and mixed feelings towards your boss, it's probably best if the answer to that question remains an inferred ‘no.’ 

Such complex thoughts coming from such a tiny looking girl kind of made you laugh again though. 

“Enough talking!” She suddenly stood up, stomping her foot. “I want to watch a movie!” 

It turns out, she didn't want to watch a movie in her own room, or the living room, but instead demanded that you watch the movie with her in Mori’s room, which apparently had the “big big TV.” 

The sun was setting, and you were exhausted from following her every whim all afternoon and evening, so instead of getting flustered and trying to convince her the living room was a better idea, you just gave up, stripping off that stupid dress and chunky jewelry and crawling into the bed with her in your shorts and undershirt. 

You felt embarrassed crawling into his bed after what you’d done here weeks ago, but the sheets were different, and the blankets smelled fresh, so you could delude yourself into thinking it was an entirely different bed. 

She picked Spirited Away, saying she liked the ‘no face guy’, and how hungry he was. She giggled and said that the parents deserved to get turned into gross pigs for being so stupid in the first place, and that might’ve disturbed you if you weren’t so tired. 

The last thing you remember is the feeling of Elises head falling on your shoulder, and wondering what you did to get on her good side. She’s a nightmare. She actively terrorizes the other members of the Port mafia just for her own amusement, and she’s just falling asleep on your shoulder? Do abilities even need sleep? But sure enough, her breathing was even, and her eyes were closed. 

You smiled, realizing you can’t have done too shitty of a job if she was so relaxed. 

———————————

When Mori peeks his head into Elise’s room and doesn’t see her sleeping form in her frilly pink bed, he worries a little. 

Not much, maybe mostly for you, in fear that she’d have you strung upside down and dangling from the roof somewhere in some midnight game to amuse her, but he’d told her to behave, so he hoped all was well. 

Mori thought that perhaps he should get out of this ridiculous suit and change before he goes looking for Elise, that meeting had been far too stifling, so he at least needs to hang up his jackets and get more comfortable before he can go on any longer. 

When he steps into his room, the first thing he notices is that his TV is on, its large screen illuminated with the ending credits of some cartoon, and then he looks into his bed, and his heart stops. 

Elise is cuddled up right next to you, snuggled in with your arm wrapping comfortably around her little waist as you both sleep peacefully beneath his luxurious blankets. 

The soft part of him wants to coo and take pictures to torment Elise with later. Another darker, more urgent part of him is eyeing you, your tiny, tiny shirt riding up your waist, your hair sprawled out on his pillows, a few stray bow clips still caught within, your arm around such a treasured piece of him— like you valued it just as much as he did. 

He eyes that frilly little number you wore for him those few weeks prior, just sprawled out, lying on his floor; and surmises that Elise must have demanded some kind of dress up game, the little tease. She probably did it just to annoy you, not thinking you’d actually have something to suit her criteria. 

He rounds to the side of the bed that Elise is on, carefully and slowly prying her from your hold. He very gently takes her down the halls to her own room, tucking her into bed. Any other night, he might have stayed, maybe woken her up to talk with her about her day, tease her a little about how good she must’ve been today, but he had far more pressing things to focus on, like the little one he’d left still sleeping away in his bed. 

After all, if you’d done a good enough job that Elise fell asleep comfortably in your arms, then he owed you one, didn’t he? 

Keeping his steps light, he made his way back to his bedroom, standing at the side of the bed to observe you once more. 

Your brow was soft, face passive and serene, so unlike your waking moments where all you seemed to do was stare ahead with that tortured look on your face— like you hated everything and everyone around you. 

How he craved to see you lost in yourself again, falling apart at his touch and untroubled by the burdens of your life. Having that kind of power over you sends his mind reeling, and ever since that last evening in this very room— his fingertips twitched at the mere mention of your name. 

The crushing desire to claim, to take and mold you into a perfect little doll, just for him— it was overwhelming.

But he resisted.

After all, it was that fiery spark that drew him to you in the first place. If he were to break you of it completely, that would ruin the entire appeal. 

Perhaps just in these private moments then, he’ll train you to let go slowly, but give you enough leash that you may still keep that delicious fight in you.

He saw the way your eyes trailed over him whenever he was in your presence, no doubt remembering the way he pulled you apart and pieced you back together over and over again that night. He knew you hadn’t been going to any of your little friends anymore, your evenings spent alone in your apartment, or so his people tell him. You still wanted him, that much was evident. 

So surely you wouldn’t mind if he helped himself? You seemed to be begging for it, placing yourself so sweetly on this silver platter of silk sheets, sweet and ripe for his taking. 

He removed his jackets and scarf, setting them on the desk chair before unbuttoning his dress shirt and crawling slowly into the bed behind you. 

You stirred slightly, making him pause, but you simply rolled onto your back, hand twitching against his pillow. 

“Heavy sleeper?” He whispered, a grin spreading like a wildfire in a dry field. “Or did my little darling just tire you out?” 

He lay on his side, still observing you like a hawk, watching for any change of breath or movements that may indicate your return to consciousness. 

He allowed himself to indulge a bit, dragging a fingertip up the soft skin of your stomach, raising your little shirt even further until it was tucked underneath your perfect breasts. He swirled the pad of his index finger along the center of your torso, watching the goosebumps raise as he circled around your navel softly. 

He dipped lower, toying with the hemline of those itty bitty shorts you were wearing, the spandex clinging to your form deliciously. 

He pushed the blankets down just a bit further, below your knees, not wanting the change in temperature to startle you awake if he removed it completely. 

He watched your eyebrows twitch ever so slightly as he ran his fingertips along your covered core, just a tease of a touch, simply for his own amusement. 

Then he pressed a bit harder, enjoying the little groan you let out. 

“Even in your sleep, you’re still so responsive.” He whispered, licking his lips. 

He brought his hand up to toy with the hemline of those shorts again, watching your stomach dip at the touch of his fingers slipping beneath. 

“I wonder if you’ll let me slip these off, hmm?” 

He slowly rose to kneel beside you, hooking his fingers into the sides of the spandex, shimmying them down slightly to gauge your reaction. 

You were as still as stone, breaths even and eyes closed, save the occasional twitch of your fingers. 

“So good for me,” he mused. 

He continued sliding them down your thighs, exposing you fully as he realized— much to his satisfaction— that you wore no panties underneath. 

He grinned at the slight glisten to your folds, stopping the pull of your shorts right above your knees to admire the sight for a moment. 

Still, you slept, completely unaware and unbothered. He slipped your legs free from the blankets, fairly certain that he could be a little less cautious than before, and pulled your shorts off completely. 

He sat your legs back down, a little more spread than before, and kneeled between them to admire you closer. He ran his hands up your delicious thighs, loving the way your skin prickled as he went. 

He saw the way your nipples perked beneath your shirt, smirking to himself as he pushed the little scrap of fabric further up your chest, exposing your breasts to him completely. 

“A little cold, are we darling?” He whispered, running a finger along one pert nipple. 

As much as he desired to toy with your breasts a bit further, he did not know how long this glorious window of uninterrupted play would last, and wanted to enjoy himself to the fullest while he was able. 

Pushing your thighs to spread completely for him, he laid down on his stomach to watch up close as he spread your folds, using his thumbs to pull you apart and gaze at the glistening treasure you kept so guarded from him. 

He gingerly lapped a firm strike from bottom to top, eyes watching your face for any changes as he savored your taste. 

“You taste just as delectable as I remember, little one.” He whispered against your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and enjoying the sleepy little whines that poured from your throat, still lost in the throes of slumber. 

He indulged himself further, licking and suckling along your core and pressing his tongue shallowly into your little hole until you were absolutely dripping for him, his cock twitching at the way you whined softly in your sleep. 

He removed his gloves and tossed them aside, gingerly easing an index finger into your waiting hole, your juices easing the slide. 

In your sleep, you were so soft, so pliant. Your walls gave a little clench at the intrusion, but he was very amused at how unrestrained you were. He added a second finger, marveling at how easily they slid in, your walls so accommodating, so plush. 

“You know, darling,” he whispered, pulling back to kneel up and work his belt open, uncaring of the wetness along his fingers. “Like this, I don’t even think I need to work you open for me.” 

Unbuttoning his pants, he finally pulled his aching cock free of its confines, having been neglected from the very beginning in favor of the mental satisfaction of such activities. 

“I think you could take me just like this,” he said, stroking himself as he watched your chest rise and fall, unfettered, head resting beautifully on his pillows. 

He pulled a spare pillow from the opposite side of the bed, gently pulling up your lower half to place it under your ass, hoisting you up to a proper height. 

You squirmed, mumbled a bit as your eyes rolled beneath their lids, your hands twitching and thighs shifting. 

He paused for a moment, almost worried you’d wake before he got to the best part, but it really didn’t matter when you woke up, you’d be taking his cock so sweetly for him either way.

After you settled back down, he thumbed over your clit once more, enjoying the way your sex clenched and glistened for him. Stroking himself a moment longer, he finally gave in and leaned forward, rubbing the head of his cock along your folds, reveling in the way your wetness coated him. 

With one hand supporting himself in the bed beside your waist, and the other guiding his cock, he finally, finally pushed against your entrance, groaning at the warmth parting so deliciously for him, wrapping him in your hot and pliant embrace. 

He was right, your walls graciously sucked him in, still snug, but the lack of preparation didn’t seem to matter. As he pushed further into your welcoming softness, he shifted, placing his hands beside your head to lean down and press open mouth kisses along your neck, sucking marks in plain sight, where everyone could see. 

He wanted to own you. He technically did— given his rank compared to yours, but he wanted more. He wanted to consume you entirely. 

He didn’t care anymore, in fact, he wanted you to wake now, to wake to the feeling of him inside you, fucking into you like you were his to do with as he pleased. 

With a rough snap of his hips and a nibble beneath your ear, he finally pushed in fully, his hips slapping against yours. 

You gasped, eyes finally popping open as your head rose from the pillow, a rough moan ripping from your throat as he started a rough and steady pace. 

“There she is,” he groaned in your ear. “How nice of you to finally join us.” 

Your walls clenched tight around him, your eyes wide as you pressed against his shoulders in a half hearted attempt to push him away. 

“B-boss?!” You stuttered, your brow furrowing in confusion, in worry. “What are you— Mori!” 

You moaned as he grabbed your thighs, pressing them into your chest as he threw your calves over his shoulders. The motion left your little white socked feet dangling uselessly behind his head as he brutally angled each thrust against your g-spot. 

Your hands moved to grip at the loose shirt hanging by his collarbones, fingernails digging in but not hitting his pale skin. He almost wanted to shift positions to remove his shirt, maybe let you rake those blunt nails down his back so he too could wear marks of this moment. 

But the way your eyes rolled back and you pushed your head to the side was too good, it was like you were trying to hide from him, hide how much you loved this. 

“Where are you trying to run, little darling?” He breathed, a wicked smile ghosting along your cheek as you flinched, biting back moans that made your lips bruise. 

“I… why are you—“ you couldn’t form proper words, let alone a sentence, and he shuddered at how far gone you already were, your mind still blurry from your slumber, body reacting to him so beautifully. 

“You were so pretty in my bed, laid out for me like a little treat.” He bit at the sensitive flesh of your throat, groaning when you squeezed around him. “I simply am just taking a bite of what’s mine.” 

You cried out at that, squirming under him as he felt your walls twitch and tremble, your slick forming a ring around the base of his cock, the filthy, slick sounds making his head spin. 

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He said, bringing a hand to your face to force you to look up at him, your big doe eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “That's what you desire to be? Mine?” 

You bit your lip, and he could feel you tense, trying to stave off your orgasm, as if he would ever not succeed in making you cum. 

“Say it,” he hissed, thumbing your bottom lip from between your teeth. “Tell me what you are, hmm?” 

His hips continued to slam into you, and he could feel himself nearing his own limit, but he knew you were right there— right at the precipice. 

You were so stubborn, and oh how he loved that about you. How he throbbed when you shook your head, refusing to speak even though you clung so tightly to him, even though he could feel your walls pulsing with the need to release. 

“Tell me.” He nearly growled, his pace never faltering despite the burn of his own orgasm being held back. “Who do you belong to?” 

You looked like you were going to deny him once more, but he saw that sparkle of need in your eyes, so he wrapped his hand around your throat, applying delicious pressure at the sides, restricting the blood flow to your pretty little head. 

He was reminded of how small you were like this. How easy it would be to snap your little neck if you were an adversary. Instead he was delighted when your eyes rolled back once more as he growled down at you. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

He released his hold, and you gasped as your walls fluttered, your release crashing into you like a train, moaning and babbling up at him in your pleasure. 

“Mori! I’m yours! I’m yours— I wanna be yours, I wanna belong to you—!” 

He groaned, letting himself go as you continued your babbling, feeling his cock twitch against your still fluttering walls, the pressure of you squeezing him so tightly was almost unbearable. 

“That’s it,” he moaned. “Mine, all mine.” 

He felt himself tip over the edge and leaned down to bite at your throat again. 

“Now take what I give you, take it all.” 

You cried out as he spilled into you, his hips finally stuttering with each pulse of his hot cum into your cunt. You gripped him tightly, keening as he panted in your ear. 

When he was finally done, you fell back, arms spread wide as you stared lazily up at the ceiling. 

“Did you enjoy your evening?” He grinned, pulling his softening cock from your leaking core, enjoying the way a little dollop of his cum oozed at your entrance. 

“You’re a fucking asshole.” You groaned, throwing an arm over your face. 

He tucked himself back into his pants as he chuckled. 

“After all that you still have the energy to be so acrimonious?” He teased, getting up to retrieve a cloth from the en suite. 

“You’d be pissed off too if someone woke you up by shoving their cock in you!” You shouted from your place on the bed, clearly spoiled rotten from the last time he fucked you, knowing full well that he intends to clean you up before letting you sleep. 

He rolled his eyes to the side as he made his way back to you, waving his hand dismissively to tease you. “I wouldn’t be pissed, per se. Perhaps a bit startled, maybe murderous, maybe indulgent. Depends on how nice the cock is.” 

He grinned as he watched you get flustered, tugging your shirt down and crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Salacious, depraved, idiot old man.” You grumbled, and he laughed. 

“Are you saying you didn’t enjoy yourself, little one?” he leaned down to wipe the sweat and juices between your thighs, and watched with keen eyes as you relaxed, letting his cum pool out of you and onto the waiting cloth. 

His spent cock twitched in interest, and he flashed his eyes back to your face, gauging your reactions. 

You were red, still indignantly looking at the ceiling as he cleaned you up. 

“I’m not saying that, don’t put words in my mouth.” You said, pouting like a spoiled rotten child.

Oh, how he enjoyed you. He was going to soak in every second of your time. He wouldn’t let you run away again and pretend like this wasn’t happening, like you didn’t want him. No, you were stuck this time. 

His cock swelled again, watching you grumble and pout. 

“You’re right, darling.” He said, pulling away to undo his pants once more, reveling in the way you chewed on your swollen lips, your thighs clenching together. “I have better things I can put in your mouth.” 

—————————————————

[thechekhov]

Man, Izutsumi's whole selfish character really is explained by how shit a hand she was dealt. Given her motivations for following the party, becoming a cat-hybrid was clearly done to her without consent, and far enough into life that she knows she isn't supposed to be such a thing and wants to turn back into a human.

She also clearly wasn't trusted or loved much in Shuro's household, given that they literally used a death curse as a collar to keep her in check, and then later decided to leave her behind when they couldn't find her in the Dungeon. It's theorized that the various non-human servants of Shuro are slaves that were bought into the household. Tade being grateful could well be because she was born into slavery and is happy to have relatively kind masters, but if Izutsumi was a free human that got turned into a catgirl, and then a slave, I can see why she's being a brat about it, especially if she's being told to be 'grateful' simply for having not actively abusive masters.

Given her childish demeanor, she'd probably learn better through rewarding good behavior than punishing bad behavior, but as a slave I doubt there were many notable rewards on offer to incentivize her. Travelling with the Thorden party is likely the first time since her transformation that she's been free, so molding her into a decent person now that she's equal to others is going to be an uphill battle, if that makes sense.

I know that there a probably no revelations to you in this message, since you already seem to 'get' her character pretty well, so this is just me phiiosophising in the comments.

P.S. the Barometz is a funny monster that kinda exists just to suffer. It's named after a type of fern that grows from a wooly bulb with a superficial resemblance to a lamb. The mythological Barometz has a long vine-like umbilical cord that connects its body to the earth. It can only eat grass within reach of that vine, so when it's eaten all the grass it can reach, it can either starve to death, or pull free from the vine, which also kills it. A new barometz then grows from the corpse. Poor bastards are really just born to die.

Mmm, yeah. I was waiting for the comic to confirm it more before I jumped to conclusions about Izutsumi's background/past but if what you're saying gets confirmed within the story then yeah, that's explains why she acts the way she does even more.

(I assumed that she was some sort of a ward of Toshiro's house, yeah, but I thought that she was a beastkin first. The fact that there was a curse which was meant to kill her if she doesn't return to them....makes me wonder how much Toshiro knew about how the whole operation was being ran. Or if it just seems normal to him.)

Presumably, even in the east beastkin are viewed as being closer to monsters than humans. Their humanity being at stake means they're probably treated pretty horribly, which is likely the reason Izutsumi acts like everyone is her enemy, waiting to trick and deceive her.

That's kinda the tragedy of being a hurt person. She may have good reasons for acting the way she does, but Chillchuck's party (he's the leader, I've decided) doesn't deserve the way she treats them because of it. It's a sort of moral impasse.

It's just kind of a bad situation, but I'm very curious to see how she changes! She has already changed quite a bit since first meeting them. It's a fascinating story!

The Barometz thing is..... I KNEW I'd heard of it before, but that confirmation is WILD. Wow. Born to die indeed.

(sauce)

They have little celery legs, even. That's terrible. And so good. The most sad creature of all time.

[frozenmoonshine]

Headcanon - Hanma Shuuji as your boyfriend

Ok, I hate myself for writing this, 'cause I hate this bitch just as much as Pissaki, but I've been fighting my intrusive fluffy thoughts about him and they won, sooo here they are:

Beware of insinuated hetero relationship, f!reader, and common terms of endearment.

He's a flirt, definitely. He knows he gets lots of attention from the fairer sex simply for being tall and good looking, but he also loves the fact that he's a smooth talker and can get pretty much any girl to fall for him. And he's not better than doing just that, simply because he needs some amusement in his life. Talk about being a piece of shit, going around breaking hearts for fun.

‌However, if he genuinely falls for someone, he basically does a 180⁰ turn and is the most loyal lover you could get! He will, most definitely and undeniably, try to make his SO jealous by casually flirting left and right, just because he can, and he enjoys seeing your frustrated, annoyed, jealous face. However, if you get jealous or hurt for real, he will genuinely freak out, and will try his best to reassure you that he loves you and that he was just messing with you. You are the only one for him, after all, his safe haven and his light! If he realizes that he stepped overboard with his "jokes", he will change his behaviour immediately. Idk why, but he just gives me the vibe of someone who perfectly understands boundaries, and he will choose to honor his commitments.

‌He himself is not jealous at all, and no matter what you may do, he wouldn't get jealous. The bastard is just so cocky and aware of his desirability (even tho he overestimates himself quite a lot), it's unnerving! But unless he straight up catches you "red handed" with another guy, he won't be jealous in the slightest. And if that happens, if you do cheat on him, then he might just beat your side piece to a pulp, and walk out on you like you never even existed. He will be heartbroken about it for a long time, tho.

‌Don't do him dirty, even as annoying and flawed as he is, he is still worth it! He can be super loving and affectionate in private, and he will be your no. 1 cheerleader, in whatever you're aspiring to achieve. Tell him all about your adventures tho, he loves a good story!

‌He gets too easily bored, so he would fall head over heels for someone who can engage him in deep and interesting conversations, and be a bit of a tease as well, just enough to always keep him on the edge of his seat, but not to overdo it. After all, he is the tease one in the relationship, and he doesn't like the idea of giving up that title.

‌Speaking of him being a tease... yes, he's absolutely insufferable! In every sense. (Yes, that too!)

‌Dates with him are always so random and spontaneous, like, he'd take you on a bike ride to the beach at 3 AM, and you'd make sand castles in the dead of the night, just because. It's totally not because he's secretly a hopeless romantic and wanted to watch the sunrise with you, btw. Or he might get you out of your school/work just to take you to the rooftop of the highest building in his neighborhood, where you guys can throw water baloons on the passers-by down there, and photograph their reactions. Or you two would be in a middle of a rollercoaster ride and he'd scream into your ear: "Babe, let's go have a picnic in the woods, this ride is boring!" The worst best part - his idea of a "picnic" is pranking hikers by making weird noises. At least one thing is for sure with him - there is never a single dull moment!

‌But even as the chaos elemental that he is, he is actually looking for (inner) peace. He would want to feel safe and taken care of in a relationship, and I can picture him falling for his childhood friend. If not that, then he'd definitely go for the cozy, domestic, girl-next-door type. Despite what he shows to the outer world, he just craves familiarity and warmth.

‌His friend-turned-girlfriend definitely calls him Shuu-chan. He pretends it annoys him, but there's nothing he loves hearing more. And I will die on that hill if need be!

[bibibbon]

Todoroki Rei doesn't feel like an actual character.

Her children do, Shoto does, Dabi does, Natsuo and Fuyumi do.

However, Rei just doesn't. We learn about how Endeavor DROVE her insane with his abuse, caused what she believed was the death of one of her children, made her grievously injure another, and locked her away from all of her children for a decade.

She should HATE the guy.

Yet when Endeavor sends those stupid manipulative flowers - she sings his praises and defends him to Natsuo. Tell me how that makes sense.

People have suggested Stockholm syndrome or manipulative psychiatry as reasoning for her inane Endeavor simping despite everything. Yet if this is the case, it should be portrayed tragically, like Harley Quinn is - not portrayed "admirably" and like she is "so kind" like some members of the fandom have called her.

There's also everything to do with Dabi, and I thought surely this revelation should stir up Rei's hatred. Yet it doesn't.

She gives Endeavor a stern telling off with the rest of her children in tow (which we were all cheering at because this is the bare fucking minimum. ) The Touya backstory hits (in part from Endeavor's POV because he's so reliable as the abuser and the cause of this mess 😒. Why didn't you let Touya tell his own story, Hori!?) It scapegoats her and Touya largely to take a lot of the heat off of Endeavor. And then... she tells Shoto as the hero of the family to save Touya.

Umm...no. Just no.

Endeavor is the hero parent. This should be his responsibility - but it should never be on Shoto to save the brother who wants him dead.

Then, in the epilogue, we find her being Endeavor's carer, staring up at her dying son, Dabi.

Do we see her talk with her son, Dabi? Do we see her cry at his state here? - Nope, it is all focused on Endeavor and his guilt/ self pity.

All she is allowed to do is pose with a solemn expression behind Endeavor's wheelchair and smile cutely at her abuser when the story demands it.

The injustice at the abuse victim - incarcerated mental patient - carer of her abuser pipeline Rei's story has taken is so disgusting.

I am horrified and appalled under Hori, Rei will never be free of her abuser and neither will the rest of the Todofam (Endeavor paid for thier new house after all - he still has the power over it and them as an extension of that. Abusive bastard.)

All I can think of is how horrible it is to handle an abuse narrative in such a way - uncaring of what real people this hurts.

THIS 👆👆👆

Yes, Rei doesn't truly feel like a real character at all because of the way she is depicted.

Even though all of the todoroki backstories come from either shoto, Touya or enji we still can see and notice the horror of rei's abuse. Even with there being almost litte to no focus on rei we can still how she suffered and get a general view to how she was driven to insanity.

So just imagine if horikoshi actually allowed rei to have her own proper perspective and we see HER STORY FROM HER VIEW! @thr0wnawayy (puts some of it into deeper perspective) imagine how gut wrenching it would of been and tell me that she would somehow be okay with being enji's caretaker in the end like he isn't at fault for what happend to Touya (touya's death is literally stated to be her final straw and that she fully broke down after that). Imagine rei a young women who tried to do everything for her children and failed, she ended up hurting them even though she wanted and tried to do what she can to protect them.

Rei should ultimately despise enji completely heck there is no reason for her to like him or tolerate his existence at all. I wholeheartedly doubt that her relationship with enji can even be good in the slightest and her having Stockholm syndrome or manipulative psychiatry also to me doesn't make sense at all after the guy put her and her children through straight hell. Why is her opinion of enji somehow swayed after flowers? He doesn't do anything except send flowers (and I don't even think he has always done that) it's like she has no one. It's like the narrative is blatantly ignoring fuyumi and natsou who stay with their mother and keep her company. Heck fuyumi and natsou brought their mother clothes but somehow only enji's flowers hold any significance. What about shoto who after everything also started a relationship with his mum?!?!?

Why the actual hell does the narrative frame enji giving rei flowers as somehow more meaningful and symbolic than her children doing the exact same thing and more for her!!!!

How about we talk about how horrible rei's condition must of been if she and the doctor said that she shouldn't see enji even though she hasn't seen the man for a decade?!?!? How about we talk about how Rei literally said that she was scared of seeing enji even though its been 10 years?!?! Why does the narrative seem to ignore this moment and its exactly when this moment is ignored that her making an appearance face to face with enji holding the flowers he gave her in chapter 300 is such an underwhelming scene. I personally felt such mixed emotions with that scene.

This scene and what comes after it all feels weird to me and it fails on so many notes. Rei comes in holding the flowers enji has given her and we are supposed to interpret this as her finally overcoming her fear of enji and stepping up both as a character and parent but it falls apart because

We aren't that emotionally connected to rei (she should of had her individual arc that tied her to the family and allowed us to see her prespective)

We haven't seen the steps that led her to becoming like this

After she doesn't even properly beat or scold enji at all. It all ends up being a pathetic speech where the narrative seems to shun from putting almost majority of the blame on enji and instead she continually says its her fault (the narrative tries to paint it like it's all of her fault when It isn't she is part of the problem but enji never seems to get that much criticism)

All of these reasons are there to show that Rei doesn't feel like an actual character. She starts and ends the same and even when her son, Dabi ends up in the same position as she starts from she doesn't even speak to him in chapter 426. Actually she tries and all she says is that she has a lot to talk to him about but then enji hogs all the screentime and she stands back separated from the conversation.

Rei, unlike her family is also not written in a way to fit the families dynamic. Her character isn't logical in a way where she is supposed to hate enji after all he did. Rei also doesn't have role unlike the other members of the todoroki family.

We clearly see that fuyumi wanted a happy family and tried her best to keep up appearances.

Dabi absolutely despised his family after he learnt about his creation but ultimately even as he tried to run away he still has memories of playing with natsou and even when on the verge of death in the 2nd war arc he instinctively calls out to them.

Natsou is like dabi in hating enji and wanting to run away except he follows and accomplishes this in a different path.

Shoto is completely trapped and is supposed to be the saviour child whether that be for enji wanting him to be his masterpiece or for rei putting the title of family hero onto shoto (which she shouldn't of done at all)

Enji neglected dabi and he is the reason why dabi was made. Rei acknowledges this multiple times that what touya wanted was his father's love and attention and she even goes to blame herself saying that she should of tried harder into convincing enji to talk and spend time with his son (which she already did before but he flat out refused and ignored her)

After this rei also claims that shoto is the families hero and this puts pressure on shoto to save dabi, his brother who wanted to kill him for being enjis favourite ever though he never asked for it and actually ended up suffering for being enjis favourite.

Yes, shoto reaching out to rei was important for both shoto and her. It symbolised shoto starting to heal and reconnect with his mother whom he cared about so much and for rei it was a new hope for her and a new goal to be a good mum to reconnect with her child. However, shoto isn't the families hero. He doesn't need all of the families problems on him and he for sure doesn't need to solve them all especially when enji was the one to cause them specifically the ones to do with dabi.

Ultimately I stand by the choice that enji should of died in the first war arc giving more focus to shoto and the rest of the family members.

Enji would die in the line of duty so you would probably have a lot of people try and excuse his behaviour and this would be a good way to explore how this negatively effects the todoroki family and dabi who grows to have even more resentment and has to learn that shoto's life was full of suffering under being enji's favourite.

Rei should of had an arc that tied her into the jaku hospital arc where she learns about touya and stands up to enji at the same time while coming face to face with a lot of the new information and maybe even learning about genten himura her distant cousin. There is so much that could be done with rei and all we got in Canon was a horrible non existent arc where she is used to prop up her abuser!

In the end enji doesn't face consequences for his actions (being disabled isn't a consequence) and his whole dance in hell with dabi ain't even effective because enji hasn't experienced true hell (not to the extent of dabi). In the end enji still has people and he still has money his hell can be paradise for some people like the villains.

[avelera]

"Nice is Different than Good" Character Interpretation: Hob Gadling as Kind of a Bastard

Ok, slightly controversial take on Hob Gadling Is Kind of a Bastard that I've been toying with. It runs counter to some wonderful let me be clear, amazing fanon I've seen in some fics, so this is much more me going, "Hey, here's a way to do it different that might work better in different stories fan writers might want to tell," and not to invalidate other takes or even to put forth that I think this is necessarily true of Hob in a meta sense, it's just shining a light on the text from a different direction, y'know?

Hob as Neutral Evil (credit to Winter on the big dreamling server for this concept!)

I'm obsessed with the idea that Hob is neutral evil on ye olde D&D alignment chart because it makes so much sense if the axis for evil is primarily based on selfishness.

Primary evidence? How casually he talks in 1489 about having done a bit of soldiering and banditry. Those jobs are about killing people. Maybe not all the time as a bandit, ideally, but even then it's about taking their stuff. There is absolutely zero remorse in Hob's tone about being a soldier and a bandit just because he's at his most wide-eyed innocent and has since picked up a trade.

Hob as Politically Conservative until at least 1789 but possibly until 1989

Hob as far as I can tell is a model of the white male middle class existence in England throughout what we define as more or less the "modern era". As far as I can tell, there's no indication at any point prior to 1789 that Hob rocked the boat or was at all out of step with the Powers That Be.

In general, I kind of see Hob as always just this side of the "wrong side of history" and I personally find it more interesting when that's where we find him. And not in a grand sense but in a "middle of the road" sense of just going along with the day to day accepted levels of harm and evil caused by societal momentum. Generally speaking, only a very small percentage of the population takes active part in moving the needle towards good at any given time on a variety causes, and I tend to see Hob is generally speaking outside of all those minorities of do-gooders, except when it comes to taking care of his immediate friends and family. Which is a pretty average place to be.

Indeed, when it comes to the Wat Tyler rebellion, it's my personal headcanon that Hob was more likely on the side of the soldiers putting DOWN the rebellion on behalf of the local lords, and unlikely to have been interested in or part of the cause of greater equality in England. The fact he's a soldier drinking with his mates openly in a tavern when people around him are talking about Wat Tyler and he's blithely ignoring the discussion is where I get that sense.

Indeed, I believe (though I don't know where to cite it, even in the English Civil Wars, Hob was canonically on the side of the monarchy. So jot that down as Hob being pro-monarchy.

While, yes, I believe post 1789 he learned to be less of a piece of shit about taking active part if horrific industrial-level cruelty, I don't see evidence he became a superhero after that. The one bit of "on the page"altruism we see from him is him flipping a coin to Lushing Lou and telling an obvious alcoholic to go get a drink so she stops pestering his friend by offering herself to him as a prostitute, something Hob seems entirely comfortable with.

In 1989 when Hob gets out of his sleek convertible, dressed like a stock trader, he uses the Financial Times to shield himself from the rain, a periodical that apparently was just lying around in his car. As tempting as it would be to say it's to somehow show off to Dream, he has no reason to believe Dream would come back to his car so more likely, it's just something for himself.

All of these put together show me on the page that Hob stayed pretty fixated on making money even after deciding and coming to regret being part of the "shipping business".

And to be clear, we don't actually know when Hob quit the shipping business. Personally, I like to think he did it right after Dream asked, but that's a romantic take and deliberately so. Hob having the opinion by 1889 that slavery is wrong is not necessarily a progressive take by then. Regardless, even if in 1789 he learned it was wrong, that still puts him just slightly ahead of the curve, philosophically speaking.

If we pull in comic canon we do know Hob was ahead of the curve on feminism by 1912 in Hob's Leviathan but again, women would get the right to vote by 1918/1928 in England after the issue had been discussed for at least a century (keep in mind, male Catholics couldn't vote in England until the early 1800s) so again this puts him as palatable to modern readers but not necessary terribly ahead of the curve.

Now, let me also be clear, where Hob is at in 2022 is anyone's guess. Personally I think Dream not showing up in 1989 was a second wakeup call for Hob. If he'd drifted back towards selfish hedonism by 1989, as his whole vibe suggests, he might very well have looked in the mirror and thought, "What if this is why my stranger stayed away?"

We know he becomes a teacher. That probably would go a long way towards changing his politics. We know he's a history teacher, so now he's got the long view. He's spending time in academia, which tends to lean left. My point is, Hob in 2022 is anyone guess and I think there's a lot of evidence and word of god evidence that he's become a Good Person by then, but I also think it's the 1989 meeting that jumpstarted him being Good and not just Nice. Because I do think Hob throughout all these periods of being morally a bastard was always good to the people close to him in his life. I think he was a good friend and a good husband and would have been a good friend to Dream had he allowed it. And that's what I enjoy most, that he could be both of those things, Nice and Not Good.

Hob as non-religious

I admit, this one is very near and dear to my heart for personal reasons of identifying as an atheist when it comes to Christianity and being a lifelong skeptic of Catholicism for the brief time I was technically a member of that organization (all of which while I was a minor). To be clear there is just as much evidence to say Hob is any number of religious alignments as there is that he has none. It's a totally personal choice by any author, I'm just outlining my evidence for why I write him as effectively an atheist.

The Black Death is considered the period that broke the spine of the Catholic church as a monolith in Europe. All the good priests who did their duty taking care of people and giving last rites died leaving only the ones who fled or were young, with tons of money given to the church because of all the rampant death.

Hob would have been born into an era that was particularly rife with both fanaticism and anti-church sentiment. There was a lot of evidence abounding that being a good Christian just got you killed.

Given Hob is a soldier drinking with his mates 1389, I don't see much evidence of him being particularly devout there. No less so in 1489, by the way. Not saying there's evidence against it, just that there's no evidence for it and indeed, societally there's justification for him to not be devout given the century he was born.

1589 I'd say we've got some evidence Hob isn't devout: he seems unperturbed by King Henry's ransacking of the monasteries. Politically speaking, if Hob is a New Man, he might have even benefited from that ransacking personally. In my personal view, Hob is an opportunist and most likely converted to Church of England at the earliest possible opportunity to curry favor with the Powers that Be. I don't personally see him as someone who would bother pretending to be Protestant while continuing to practice Catholicism, because:

Why would Hob bother to be faithful at all? He can't die. The #1 reason to be devout is to avoid Hell or get into Heaven. Hob has clearly chosen the secular world as the only Heaven he cares about. He says that his current life is what, "He once thought Heaven would be like" and it's a very secular vision of good food and safe streets. He does not appear to be pining at all for any spiritual version of Heaven and indeed, speaks of Heaven as a dream only in the past tense.

Personally, by 1689, I think Hob has plenty of reasons to hate God after what he's suffered and the fact he's still not interested in dying to me seems a pretty strong indication that he does not hold romantic views of the afterlife.

Finally, for 1789 to the present, there was absolutely a class of gentleman who were progress minded, obsessed with technology and the Age of Reason. Many American Founding Fathers were self-proclaimed deists, basically a safe form of atheism that said eh, yes God exists and is out there and we owe him some deference, but he doesn't impact day to day life and we can safely ignore him most of the time. Personally, and this is pure headcanon, I put Hob in that group cheerfully ignoring religion and never looking back because he's more interested in the new technologies of the day and not the crusty old church.

We also know, canonically, that at least in 1789, Hob does not consider himself Jewish.

And of course, we can't forget: Hob has evidence that the Christian cosmology is wrong, somehow, given his stranger and his own immortality.

Frankly, given that Hob appears on the page to be a hedonist with no fear of dying, it's interesting to speculate on what his moral boundaries would be at all coming from a world where Heaven and Hell were the primary means of moral social control. It is possible to speculate that Hob could have gone completely off the rails as far as worrying about his soul for a bit there, other than thinking he's already sold it, which could go either way as far as trying to redeem himself but again, he speaks casually of being a soldier and a bandit, so it doesn't sound like if he worried about his soul being sold already, he thought there was anything that could be done to redeem it.

[dragengyrr]

"No one just wakes up here an Overlord. We’ve all dragged our feet on the scorched earth, learning how to stand up, confused, terrified, disbelieving. I think, at some point, everyone realised that it never mattered who was the richest bitch at the graveyard. Some lucky bastards would realise that even before they died.

Except. There was this one fucker who made me question that. If anyone ever witnessed his first wobbly steps in hell, he made well sure they’d be too horrified to ever speak about it. And in a blink of an eye, he was out there, grabbing half of the city by the throat, sassy and smiling like it was nothing special. Call me a madman, but I feel in my guts that he somehow did bring something from the grave with himself. Some ace up his sleeve. Either that, or he’d already had such hell on Earth that waking up down here felt like a lazy Sunday stroll – he’d already lost his senses and his humanity, how could any horror impress him? I don’t know which theory frightens me more.

Anyway, they now call him the Radio Demon."

In the silence that followed his companion’s little monologue, Husk finally leaned back in his chair, having realised that he’s been too intrigued to play it cool and internally cussing himself for it. But then, you had to let go of your poker face at some point, even as the Overlord of gambling.

He contemplated for a moment, eventually pinning a sneer on his face.

"All that talk just to call him a dirty cheater? You know how to make an intro, I’ll give you that. And… you know what? If some day this bored fucker makes his way into my casino, I’ll be happy to see him try and play that ace. I got my ways to deal with tricksters."

– And then it ended poorly.

Sorry for the weird intro, I’m executing half a dozen different ideas at once, some in the drawing and some in the snipped of non-existent (yet???) fanfic that would focus on Alastor/Husk dynamic. I’ve devoured some delicious stories about Alastor getting his fears, doubts and emotions handed to him on a silver platter, but I also want to see the fall of Husk. I want to see the man’s confidence bite him in the ass, and make him obsessed with one question in mind – "did he or did he not cheat that day".

And then turn it into a question for the class – was Alastor ever a cheater?

The free time I have to write this is none, but we’ll see what the future brings.

Also: I was wondering whether or not to do this, but, fuck it: even though it is not technically art for the fic itself, I’m deeming Dr @prince-liest partially responsible for the direction it took after reading a line Alastor said in Once Bitten… that went more or less "I wasn’t wearing my Sunday best when I died". And then I figured I could spice up his leg anatomy even more, to the point where it’s a miracle he’s able to walk at all (my brain definitely glitched a few times trying to draw this).

[analviel]

I see a lot of examination and discussion of how Shen Jiu had the setting/backstory of a protagonist, could've been a protagonist if not for a twist of fate, and in a way his shape is still a protagonist when SY literally piloted his body- but not. (I think we all get hung up a lot bcs he didn't become protag like he deserves but he also didn't become a full on villain, who's still a protag of his own story, but just a scum villain because of the misunderstanding, somewhere along the way something happened and held him back in that in-between place, unable to tip over completely one way or another.)

It's often brought up that he's undergone his own blackening into a scum villain and I think about that a lot, but you know, his settings never actually trailed off too far from the protagonist setting, with the 'from the lowest to the highest' template- idk if that makes sense, but anyways, I of course have read more than my fair share of fix-its, but often, if not always, it's a time travel scenario.

But WHAT IF:

But what if Shen Jiu, rather than swallowing the shards of Xuan Su, uses it to cut himself free of the immortal binding ropes or whatever is stopping his qi. Which is not LBH's parasite blood I don't think they have that ability but whatever. I mean, you'd ask how would he, without arms and legs, escape? A nifty thing we're all familiar with called author's will.

A time when LBH is away to deal with one thing or another, and SJ, after years of lifeless staring, and even more lifeless staring in the aftermath of YQY's death, moves. The thing about not attempting to escape for a long, long time, is that people lower their guards and grows complacent, and it's not as if there's anyone checking up on him to see if he's eating meals or whatever, LBH is more than happy to get suggestions from his wives for torture ideas but was very controlling of who gets to inflict it (Xuan Su was just left there and he did manage to swallow it). So Shen Jiu, with only Xuan Su's blade and it's inherent property as a spirit sword, not even an active one which means on one hand there's no active qi in it but the latent one from its materials, and on the other hand it's not bound to anyone and was more malleable, whatever. ANYWAYS. Skip.

Shen Jiu knowing of one thing or another, or several things that's a combination of common healing theory, rarer healing practices, less than righteous surgery techniques, equals bastardized body repair and ends with him frankensteining himself with some shaky qi threads. The needle is a piece of Xuan Su. He doesn't blink bcs his pain receptors are no more.

Scenario A.) I want SJ to play the 'mysterious wandering protag with a mysterious dark past and a mission for vengeance', only wanting to kill LBH before planning to retire from existance himself and he goes with his cool and angsty scarred body that he'd DIY'ed. The blood parasites are solved by something ruthlessly self-destructive only someone with SJ's coldness and lack of actual desire to continue breathing would do without even some initial testing. This would be done quick and dirty to keep LBH from teacking him. OR/AND

Scenario B.) I say or-slash-and because the scenario A could be cut off or maybe they could be combined. The handy dandy sun and moon dew!!! Plant it, grow it, kill himself, and recover his full potential all those years ago! Of course this would take quite a while, so he might need scenario A anyways. And conveniently enough, it puts him in the path of....... dun dun dun ZUZHI-LANG!!! And TLJ by proxy. Allies get! Maybe! Because TLJ wants to kill the sects, right? But his son did it here for him, so maybe he wouldn't bother anymore. Or maybe it's not enough bcs he hadn't killed all of everyone, so let daddy fix that right up. Or/and, LBH feels threatened and threatens in proper blackened protg manner and TLJ threatens back and flat out stomps him.

So. Maybe!

To expand on the rest of the Jianghu, the other 4 Peak Lords we know are alive, SQH, QQQ, WQW, and MQF. Bcs we don't have definite details on the timeline of PIDW, we can conveniently fill in space, put a lot of cause and effect, the cultivator world is in an uproar by the reveal that LBH is a demon (it's not as if they were okay with that, duh, if they'd known he was a demon, SJ's actions would've been treated as the only logical thing to do) and YQY is dead, AND SQH is a traitor, so that's down two - or rather three with SQQ- influential people, two of which were heavily involved in how everything is run (SQQ, while not actually lazy in his cultivation, was indeed lazy and unmotivated in most tasks that involved coordinating with others).

I really don't think SJ would feel even a little bit betrayed by SQH. To be betrayed you have to trust first, and his whole thing was that he never trusted anyone from CQMS. For SJ, SQH didn't betray them so much as his loyalty just belonged to another. Still would kill the rat next time he sees him tho (spoiler alert, he doesn't, kill him that is, but he does see him eventually).

So, I'm of the belief that Airplane's drafts included the Peak Lords as big boss too, where TLJ is the big boss of the demonic realm, they're the ones for the cultivation world, and my headcanon is that they were purposely met with sudden deaths one way or another in PIDW, and none actually died in a straight up fight, which is on brand with LQG's deviation, SQQ's trial, and YQY's thousand arrows (that I say are one of those bullshit golden finger artifacts of PIDW, maybe something like 'heavenly damned arrows of a thousand rays' that always flies true to it's target and could seal rare level pokemon rip-offs beasts for every single one. No reason that they would be normal p arrows, really). SQH might have fought or just been completely taken off guard by his lord killing him out of the blue with no chance to wriggle out. But Like QQQ was backstabbed. WQW was poisoned. MQF sacrificed himself for a beloved disciple (and that's why WQW died because he set out to find his martial brother but didn't know he'd already died. Awww).

(connected to another headcanon, the other five unnamed Peak Lords died long ago in the first battle against TLJ when he was sealed)

These people were meant to be a team. Or at least a set.

So SJ goes on an epic quest of getting power to kill his Qi-ge's killer via sun and moon dew possibly while he gets his tactician brain creating up something to kill LBH (OP characters are not killed in straight up fights, as we've learned, they're tricked or betrayed) and accidentally finding and gathering his siblings who, at that point, happen to have become guardians of havens and refuge communities in pockets of the world that holds the remnants of cultivator and human realm, where the demonic forces have spread far and wide in every realm. It's initially written to later, eventually be conquered by LBH. For example there's a hidden cave passage that leads you to Mu Qingfang's hidey hole, a pocket dimension with much rural fantasy aesthetic, housing parients and normal mortals with farms and houses woven to giant trees. Wei Qingwei is found underground creating weapons and defenses day in and day out to source to QQQ and MQF. Qi Qingqi with her armies always on the move, squads spread out in the realms, resisting against the demonic forces, helping Mu Qingfang rescue stragglers, from her old fairycore ensemble shifting to dragoncore, rarely resting with her inedia in the hollow of a mountain.

(xianxia aesthetic, whimsical aesthetic, aesthetic aesthetic aesthetic!!!!!!!!).

They..... Well. It's an awkward reunion.

SJ was shocked to meet the first lord sibling he'd seen since his imprisonment, shown only by a slight widened eyes, but emotions quickly gone. His first words is, "Do you wnat to kill the beast?"

He didn't care about the answer, if they said yes, then alright, if they said no, then he'd just walk away.

They say yes. Every one.

So, the rest really depends on how you interpret his relationship with them before the trial.

A). Was it a case of it's exactly what it looked like and they oh so very righteously hated him and he hated them back, a bunch of misunderstandings and not-so misunderstandings building up?

B). Did they have mutual respect and mutual awareness that everyone in the room they hold their PL meetings in were assholes of different flavors? Did they expect Shen Jiu to save himself in the trials, was dissapointed when he didn't but since he didn't give any indication of wanting to be saved, shrugged their shoulders and left him to his life, as they have always poked and snided at each other but always kept away from actually interfering with their lives (no matter how evil they thought the others were, because they may be evil, but they were still siblings and that just meant they had evil martial siblings. Love morally dubious group of PL but still ride and die)?

C). Or maybe they actually had a good relationship consisting of a lot of sharp teasing and reckless verbal and physical lashing and tantrums that you can really only get away with to your siblings, but was twisted by outside perpective?

And, on the way, maybe he learns to form relationships properly, with people that he loved nothing like the all-consuming soul twisting and mutually hurtful and destructive way he dedicated everything to Yue Qingyuan (from his loyalty to his shrivelled love and every hurtful words).

Just. Friends. Family. Siblings.

Imagine SJ eventually wandering off, with a burnt down Peak that would never again beholden him to promises, broken and otherwise. Grieving, yes, but somehow at peace than he'd ever been in. A very long time?

Ming Fan, who'd perhaps been in Qi Qingqi's Fairy Haven (of course that's the name, we've got a theme people) that was the group that consisted of people that bayed for the Emperor's blood or just the more active cultivators (with GYX mayhaps), a loyal disciple reunited with his Shizun. Or mayne he'd been the one to have found SJ as a human stick and helped him get spare body parts.

I imagine in this world, once Luo Binghe is... out of the picture, one way or another, busy dying or busy having an appropriately dramatic amnesia arc for him to develop character development, NYY takes over as the Empress, with her court of demoness and humans, and Harems becomes synonymous to Council. LMY her right hand helping keep everyone in line, who are also partially managed by SHL, who weighted her options and pros and cons and found establishing her position as left hand pretty good for now. The rest can come later. Imagine NYY growing up, not in brute strength bcs that wasn't how she was taught, nor is it her strength, but perhaps in a way that SJ would idly wonder if perhaps he should've endorsed her to Qiong Ding. Not all harem members stay of course, and some had to die. Ning YingYing becomes the First Empress of the age of peace in the unified two realms and first order of business is secure her influence. Second is ban slaves. Third is to encourage a tentative cooperation between humans and demons.

(Additional note: LBH having a protagonist halo doesn't make him unkillable, the death just has to meet several requirements, like being suitably glorious and impactful, and also maybe tragic- ehem killed by his own father or shizun, and seeing his washerwoman mother at his last moments. The protagonist is just another tool to set up the story and evidently, genre change is not impossible.)

(I imagine a confrontation between SJ and LMY early on that goes along the lines of SJ saying, "Wouldn't you know better than most, the thirst for vengeance for a brother's death?)

What if SJ's fix-it comes after PIDW, you know. PIDW being his tragic backstory. A slave who climbed so high despite the past clinging heavy on his shoulders, and then falling down lower than he'd ever been and resolving his issues and then climbing back even higher with more stable footing.

Qiu Haitang, Yue Qingyuan, Liu Qingge, their Five Unnamed Martial Siblings, Luo Binghe- regrets, and triumphs, all part of his story to mull over whenever he reaches the top of random hills and sets out his tea set. It's a bittersweet plot I like thinking about.

[evita-shelby]

Is it possible if you to do a story for pesky blinders, where Tommy’s now ex girlfriend is back, after leaving during the night before he went off to war because she had found out she was pregnant.. and with being back she was sneaking around until she ran into Polly and then eventually runs into tommy..

Sorry if none of that makes sense lol

thank you and you make perfect sense.

i do apologize for it being short and ending the way it does. lol sorry

Chance

Gif by @zerenitysblog

To your credit, you do not panic when you find Polly Gray bouncing three-year-old Charlie on her knee.

“Looks exactly like him, it’s a wonder no one’s caught on yet.” The older woman said as she continued to play with her great-nephew.

You had left when you learned you were pregnant and that Tommy ---instead of talking this out with you like an adult--- signed up with his brothers and neighbors and formed their own battalion.

You had been angry and because neither of you left an address to write, he was entirely unaware of little Charlie. That was until Polly spotted you in church and followed you to the Patch. There she discovered your son, and you already know that she will tell his father and ‘set this right’ by having you marry the fucking coward who chose to die in France instead of talking to you.

“If someone has to tell Tommy, it has to be me.” You say and she nods shrewdly.

“Of course, sweetheart. If anyone must tell Tommy he’s got no foot to stand on, it’s the mother of his child.” Polly agreed, confirming the gossip about Ada and Freddie you’ve heard from your kin.

You plan for it, you rehearse the words you must say and yet your courage fails you when you see him struck dumb by the sight of the barmaid one Sunday after mass.

He has moved on; the blonde miss won’t like the idea of him having a bastard and he would deny his own son if it got him the aloof posh girl playing the barmaid with a heart of gold.

And yet, he sees you from behind the woman and calls out to you instead. “Y/N.”

 “Hello, Tommy.” All your words fail you when he sees his blue eyes reflected in his son’s. For a moment, the world disappears and only you three exist. “Can we talk?”

A/N 9/11/2023: the fic is sadly completed. I don’t know if i will ever come back to it. Ending is up to you guys

[dreamsholdpowers]

The Aftermath

(I don't own the image) ~Akaashi x Fem! Reader. Warnings: Angst, my writing (that's a warning in itself), Hurt no comfort Word count: 734 This is like a second part to "Maybe meant to meet but not to be" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You couldn't believe it, any of it. None of it seemed real to you. -Here you were a few hours ago, planning a picnic date for your 2 year anniversary and now you're left cradling your heart, or what's left of it. -The man you imagined your future with, suddenly left like the last 1.7 years didn't matter to him at all. -And here you are, sitting in the middle of the living room, trying to figure out what to do cause it just doesn't make sense? -How? Just How could he leave after spending 1.7 years beside you. After all the promises to spend the whole life together? -You pick up your phone lying a bit far from you to call him and ask if all this was a cruel joke. "Pick up, Pick up please Keiji" You pleaded, gripping your phone and felt to yell as all calls go to voicemail. there's just one text that he wrote: Pretty boy <3 : "Please don't contact, I'll get my things next week from your apartment. It's better for the both of us". - You didn't know of the hours that passed as you sat there on the cold floor crying, not that you cared either way. Everything hurt and you didn't know what to do with all this pain. - Your story started during the first year of Fukurodani Academy where you and him shared some classes and got paired up for a group project and that blossomed into a beautiful friendship. It was 9 months into the friendship when you started noticing how him doing small stuff for you would make you happy. - How seeing him would make your heart skip a beat. It was during the second year when you gathered enough courage to confess to him. After a volleyball practice when he walked you home from school: Another tradition you made as friends. You just blurted "Ireallylikeyou" to which you earned his rare smile. "I like you too" You could declare that as the happiest day of your life. -This is why you can't grasp where did it go wrong? - You could just pick up your phone to call your closest childhood friend who was a mutual to Keiji as well: "K-Kuroo he broke up with me" "No way- That bastard. I'll be over in 10 chocolate or vanilla?"

"Chocolate w-would be nice" "You got it ma'am" -Within ten minutes you heard shuffling at the door. "I'm here bro, what the fuck happened and why? Give me one good reason to not drag him here" Kuroo looked slightly out of breath and was holding a tub of chocolate ice cream. -His eyes softened as they landed on you and came over kneeled beside you, pulled you into a hug and let you cry as you re counted everything that went down. - Kuroo stayed a few days, to make sure that you were taking proper care of yourself. ______________________________________________________________[Time skip A week] -Days have been tough to say the least, everything around you reminds you of him. The locket he gave you on your birthday, The plushies he won at a fair, His hoodie that you neatly packed and kept for him to come and collect, his side of the bed. His fav books. - You cried, and no one blames you, no one saw this coming. But they were reluctant to pick sides. -Akaashi in the meanwhile, pretended that you did not exist, ignoring your existence and the only acknowledgement that you'd get is a curt nod. -It pained you, hell devastated you seeing him so nonchalant. - You wondered how could he be so calm? Does it not pain him like it pains you? Does agony not wrap her ugly claws around his heart? Does grief not poison him from the inside? Do your shared memories not pain him? Does he not look at the rain and remember you? Does the promise ring on this finger haunt him as much as it does to you? -Despite all of that, you still believe that it's better to have loved than not loved at all. -He comes to pick up his stuff that's neatly packed in boxes and brings your stuff that you know would bring you nothing but pain. -You slowly try to get back at life, get into clubs, anything that could distract you from what you felt. And that's where you met him: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Idk what this is. More like a filler. Thank you everyone that took time to read it. Hope life is kinder to you. <3333

[angrylittletrashpanda]

On "alysmond" and "helaemond"

For some reason, there’s a petty war going on between fierce “helaemond” and “alysmond” stans. Fr, I totally don’t understand why should those ships be mutually exclusive? If “helaemond” actually becomes the show canon, I can totally see Helaena breaking up with her brother-boyfriend after B’n’C. IMO Aemond’s recklessness and long-harbored, ill-concealed hatred for Luke , contributing to Jaehaerys’ tragic death is a reason enough for Hel to stay away from him, never mind how dear the siblings (with benefits) used to be to each other. In this scenario, Aeamond could pursue a relationship with Alys, never mind his previous (more or less romantic) engagement with Helaena…

In addition, if “helaemond” is confirmed, this subplot doesn’t necessary have to be some fabulous love story. I mean the siblings *may* have been getting along with each other pretty well , and I really enjoy the idea of young Aemond having a crush on his big sister. I find it really cute, that’s all. In my opinion teenage Aemond, doubtlessly familiar with the idea of “courtly love” (I’m guessing this concept could exist in the quasi-medieval Westeros), might have enjoyed performing the role of righteous knight, worshipping his “future queen” from afar , as if there was a “secret RPG session”, going on but in his head. Frankly speaking, the young !Knight Aemond and his !Lady Helaena don’t even have to get sexually involved and their “forbidden love” could remain just cute, childish crush, as the time goes by turning into mature friendship, mutual care and understanding. Perhaps older Aemond, driven with his sense of responsibility, would want to become a proprer father figure/ role model for his little nephews and niece? I like to think well-educated, smart  Aemond, familiar with the story of Daenys the Dreamer, and keeping his sister company more often than her joke of a husband, found out Hel was a Dragon Dreamer.

On the other hand, we cannot rule out Helaena and Aemond becoming lovers, but IMO such a scenario would be pretty dark. It seems to me it could happened only if the show version of Helaena remained childless after two or three years of marriage (yet again, I am speaking about the show counterpart of the FnB Helaena, who canonically bore the twins about a year after she had wed Aegon) and Aemond started to fear someone like Larys Strong would simply get rid of Hel, so that the WIDOWED crown prince could take another bride. So, Aemond shared his fears with his sister, and the siblings agreed they ought to cuckold Aegon in order to secure Helaena’s position as the future queen, and thusly save her life… It’s possible the righteous prince Aemond , loathing the mere idea of fathering bastards, could have secretly married his sister (it could have been a traditional Valyrian ceremony, which still wouldn’t make the whole situation any romantic).  However, even as a “secretly married” couple, who could grow to quite enjoy performing their “conjugal duty”,  Aemond and Helaena could remain but “siblings with benefits” (which sounds awful, but given they’re Targaryens, it kinda makes sense) and never develop romantic feelings for each other. In this scenario, they could be still sleeping together after Aegon’s heir had been born, just out of sheer need for comfort, closeness or affection, or simply willing to reduce stress, feel better or have fun.  Messed up as Helaena and Aemond seem, they could have perceived sex as yet another form of bonding…  Whatever could have been going on between the siblings, their breakup after Jaehaerys’ death appears inevitable.

 As far as Aemond’s relationship with Alys is concerned, I wouldn’t call it an overly romantic love story, either. Let’s say it out loud – in spite of her sharp wits, charms and whatnot, Alys was a prisoner of war and even if Aemond had fallen madly in love with her, I would risk saying she wasn’t in the position to truly reciprocate his feelings. Thanks to Alys’ good looks, the prince “generously” spared her life, there’s no two ways about it, BUT however “besotted” Aemond was with Alys, becoming his “war bride” literally meant she was chosen to be a freakin’ sex slave. In my honest opinion, the woman deserved better and I don’t believe she reciprocated his love. Alys certainly was not in the position to fully consent to be the prince’s paramour, although I can totally see Aemond developing genuine romantic feelings for her – however twisted it may sound. It seems to me in the very beginning, it was just about lust, but later on, the prince could have taken to the “witch” because of her personality and even become fascinated with her supernatural powers. Frankly speaking, I am not the fan of the “Alys casting a love spell on Aemond” theory. She might have been using her totally prosy, feminine charms in order to endear the prince to her, and thusly make sure she would be treated as well as she could possibly be under so dire circumstances. And no, I don’t mean Alys was just offering Aemond sexual favors. Intelligent person she no doubt was, the “witch queen” could do her best in order to forge an emotional bond with Aemond, too. For instance listening to what the prince had to say and showing him affection. Paradoxically, learning Aemond’s story could make Alys take to the prince at least a little, since in this scenario, she could realize in spite of coming from different social backgrounds, they shared a bunch of experiences. For instance, earlier in her life, unwed and pregnant Alys, born out of wedlock herself, had been no doubt an outcast – just like Aemond the Kinslayer, having blood of his close relative on his hands. Could it be a reason enough for Alys to start sympathizing with Aemond? Yes, indeed. In addition, the “witch” had lost both her child and their father – even if  we are not familiar with the details and the moment she met Aemond Alys was probably over it. If the “helaemond” theory is confirmed, Aemond gets involved with Alys when his first “girlfriend” is also like dead to the world, not to mention the fact his son and/or nephew died gruesome death.

Here, I would like to admit I am not a fan of fetishizing Alys’ age and deeming her a “milf”. The woman was certainly more than just her looks and age. If Aemond had actually loved her – which I find highly probable  - there must have been something more than just physical attraction! In addition, in the quasi-medieval world of Ice and Fire, girls in their early teens are considered eligible maidens, so in this universe, it isn’t out of usual for women in their late, if not mid-twenties to become grandmothers! Taking the fact FnB is supposed to be a historical source by a bunch of unreliable narrators, we don’t actually know how old Alys was. If we rule out the ageless witch/ red priestess theory, we could safely assume she was, for instance, in her 40s or 30s, but knowing the Westerosi customs, well, it is still possible she was just a few years older than then-twentyish Aemond. There is also an option Alys didn’t even exist and all the war bride/captor romance was made up by pro-Black maesters and scribes, willing to paint the prince in a negative light. After all making some lowly born wet nurse his wife, Aemond would insult House Baratheon, impudently breaking the pact which had to be sealed with his marriage to Lord Borros’ daughter. You just keep in mind both the Witch Queen and Aemond’s bastard son disappear  from the “historical chronicles” shortly after the Dance ends. In addition, stressing Alys’ alleged “old age”  could have made him look ridiculous in the eyes of Westerosi readers.

Personally, I prefer to imagine Alys existed, had prophetic skills and played a significant role in Aemond’s life. Perhaps at some point, she even developed some sympathy and twisted fondness for the prince (still her captor and, yes, her rapist) but never had second thoughts about having kept it to herself that Aemond would meet his end in God’s Eye and no one could blame her for it.

To sum up, I think shipping Aemond with Helaena does not automatically make the shipper anti-“alysmond”. In my view, adding one more (for want of a better word) romantic relationship to Aemond’s arc makes sense. It could be an interesting way to show how the character’s attitude towards his love interests and his interactions with them evolve as various experiences are shaping his personality. I would never pit Helaena against Alys. They’re two different women and the fact at some points of their lives, they happened to get involved with the same guy does not make them natural born enemies. In my honest opinion, if the show version of Helaena had a chance to meet Alys (here, I mean my own idea of this character, since we don’t learn much about her from FnB and her show counterpart is still a mystery), they would become… good friends.

[rynnthefangirl]

From my personal point of view, you, the fans of the "Velaryon" boys (I say this because it offends you that we give them the surname of their real father) have a very altered perception of the universe that you read.

You only defend justice when it suits you and you only consider usurpation when it suits you. I have to continually see how you say that Aegon would never "usurp" Jace, excuse me? That throne was Aegon's and it should always have been that way, but of course for this fandom it is fair that he bears the stigma of his mother and his half-siblings and does not claim his own so as not to expose that his half-siblings are illegitimate who were put in the line of succession when in the ASOIAF universe it is inconceivable and frowned upon.

That Rhaenyra has such obvious bastards is an idea poorly developed by George, anyone who knows anything about history knows that no woman would keep the position of heir in these circumstances, and you will tell me there is no DNA evidence in the Middle Ages, thanks, I'm tired of seeing the same argument. But I think that the three children of the crown princess being identical to her sworn shield, that Harwin is present in the bedroom when Lucerys is born, that Rhaenyra is seen more in Harwin's company than Laenor's who was barely in Dragonstone and that anyone who said anything about it was threatened with cutting tongues is more than enough indication. The existence of these boys created a very big instability, even Corlys himself as soon as he could (Viserys dead, Rhaenyra depending largely on his support, Daemon far away and with nothing to gain from the succession of Driftmark because none of his daughters were betrothed to Joffrey) removed Rhaenyra's son from the line of succession of his house, it is clear why Jace and Rhaenyra agreed to legitimize Addam and Alyn, because otherwise Corlys would withdraw his support, this character is presented as a white dove and he was not, he also looked out for the good of his own house, only people forget that Rhaenyra and her children had the support of the king, you could not do what you wanted. In this agreement Rhaenyra is cuckolded, and Marilda's children who were born in the same years as Jace and Lucerys are seen as more worthy of their "father's" inheritance than Joffrey the supposed legitimate son of Laenor, and I don't care about the birth order, under normal circumstances the legitimized bastards go after the legitimate sons.

I'm a fan of House Targaryen before any other character, and the best thing for its continuity was Aegon and Viserys, I do not support a change of dynasty that was also based on a bad lie. Even if you don't like it, the world created by George is not governed by the same rules of justification as in the 21st century, and it's not called thinking like a medieval character, it's called contextualizing, It's a pretty important thing that is usually taught when you analyze a text. Would this discussion make sense in the current era? No, in the Middle Ages? Yes. But I know that it's like talking to a wall, and I'm just a bigot, because I believe that this world is not rosy and that the world, especially in the Middle Ages, was far from fair. I could also talk about how good kings these guys could have been and how overrated their abilities are, but I think it's not necessary and it doesn't matter either, because it's not their place to be.

And also saying that your opinions on a fictional universe of which you do not want to understand the rules does not make you better people, you have a moral superiority complex that is scary. I can't even say that I hate them (although their fandom has created a certain weariness in me, I'm not going to lie) but they are characters with a specific function in the story, to die, and I didn't even become fond of them when I read Fire and Blood because I'm a reader of ASOIAF and I knew what their destiny was, which was not to occupy the throne, they were a late addition to the story, when Aegon was already Rhaenyra's son and her successor, that's why I don't tolerate the idea that Aegon is occupying anyone's place, that place was always his. But hey, we agree to disagree I guess.

Thanks for this ask! A part of me was genuinely asking in my initial post as to why there was animosity towards the Velaryon boys, and this was a well reasoned response.

I do want to quote a more recent post I made as to give some context to exactly what kind of fandom behavior inspired my initial post:

----

Some people just fail to grasp that there is a difference between saying something like:

“I don’t like that Rhaenyra had bastards because that causes further succession issues, and for the sake of stability it’s best that a true born son sits the throne instead of Jace.”

And saying something like:

“Rhaenyra is such a selfish whore. I hate the bastards and can’t wait for them to die. Bastard blood must be cleansed from the throne!”

--

When I talk about people “cosplaying bigotry”, first of all— I’m not saying that they ARE bigots. I generally don’t believe in judging real world people based on fandom, because its easy to get heated about your favorite or least favorite characters, and at the end of the day this is all fiction. Also, the kind of bastardphobia you see in this fandom is not actually reflective of real world prejudices. The stigma against having having children out of wedlock in the real world is very much directed at the parents, not the kids. When someone quotes something like “all bastards are born to betrayal” I know they are just parroting Westerosi attitudes and don’t think that of real children born to unwed parents. What I think is actually happening is that people want to use the most extreme tone and language available to express their dislike of characters, and the language of bigotry is going to do that far better than a calm reasoned explanation. It’s not some horrible “ah your a bigot snd the worst person ever, fuck you!1!!” thing, but it is… weird. I find it weird that some people are so quick to act and talk like a supremacist once they have an acceptable target.

“Like” a supremacist, not a supremacist.

“Cosplaying” bigotry, not bigotry.

“Weird”, not evil or terrible.

I choose my words intentionally when I make posts on this topic. Some anons that I reply to may not, and I’m not going to disagree with or correct them because that isn’t the topic of my responses (Also, if people are going to talk like bigots, yeah IMO it’s fair that some people are gonna just call them that, even if I myself think you can’t make that jump based on fandom behavior.) But I figured I’d clarify my own stance and language given your assumption that I’m just going to ignore your point and call you a bigot.

But back to the Velaryon boys themselves, yeah I largely agree with what you are saying. Unfair though it may be, it is the reality of the matter is that them being illegitimate is going to cause problems and threaten the stability of the realm. This was a reckless thing for Rhaenyra to do, no doubt. However, personally, my animosity and blame is going to be directed at the people who would use their illegitimacy to grasp power at the expense of the good of Westeros. Like someone at some point has to actively make the choice to do that, it's not going to magically just happen. After that, it'd be directed at Viserys and Corlys for arranging a marriage to Rhaenyra with a man who could not give her children. Then Rhaenyra, for not finding a better solution than having three kids with a man who looks so different than Laenor (though I empathize with the lack of options she had). Then last of all, the boys themselves, who did nothing but be born the wrong way. Like I get what you are saying about contextualizing the issue, and I do think that is an important thing to consider for judging the characters' actions in universe. But I'm sorry, as a woman raised in the 21st century, I am simply not going to personally feel more anger at a woman having children outside of wedlock than I am going to feel towards misogynists and murderers, regardless of the context. It's not about what character was justified in doing what, it's about my feelings and what characters I am going to like. Which is why my sentiment is really and truly directed at people who viscerally hate the Velaryon boys, because to me that is still difficult to wrap my head around considering I find them all to be decent and likable kids. But I do appreciate your thoughts on why their characters would be frustrating, from at least a writing perspective I can understand the animosity a bit better.

[dootznbootz]

Don't get me wrong, I hate the telegony with every FIBER of my being. HOWEVER!! I feel like there's so much yummy angst potential with Odypen.

Like?? Imagine Penelope holding Odysseus' dead body. And it reminds her so much of when he'd fall asleep in her arms, in their bed holding an infant Telemachus. Because little baby Telemachus wouldn't stop crying so he had to be held in his papa's arms :3

But he's still crying to this day,, crying in the background, sobbing, hugging his mother from behind as she's holding her dead husband. Her husband that she waited 20 YEARS for. Her husband that's literally been threw hell and BACK, yet who never gave up because he wanted to see HER and their SON!!

He could've stayed with Calypso, he could've stayed with Kirke, he could've. But he DIDN'T. And I know damn well the moment he came back, and she saw him, she SAW on his face he's been threw shit. And imagine that, imagine the pain of someone you love more than the Sun experiencing that. Imagine that, and they did all of that, to see you.

People undermine that Penelope loves Odysseus just as much as Odysseus loves Penelope. It's been 20 years. She had every right to assume he's gone or get remarried. But she didn't. She had faith the entire time.

And she waited so long, and he went threw so much, just for him to get killed by some borderline (Not fully) rapeling. That's so heart-wrenching.

And for Telemachus, who never even KNEW his father. To suddenly see him again, to see how happy his mother is, how happy he is. Just for some bastard he has to call his half-brother to kill him. Telemachus knew so little of his father, only the stories Penelope told him. And now, sadly, it'll stay that way.

Telemachus and Penelope would fucking despise Telegonus. They've been waiting so long for this man, and this man has waited and had to go threw so much. All three of them did not go threw all that just for Telegonus to kill him. I don't care if it was an 'accident'. It doesn't matter if the killer didn't want to do it, it matter's that the victim's family lost someone they FUCKING LOVED.

Penelope would NEVER marry Telegonus, and Telemachus would never marry Kirke.

But Odysseus death gives us some JUICY angst. I hate it. But good god it scratches that angst-loving part of my brain SO GOOD. 😼

Feel free not to answer since this is a rather long ask/ramble :'D And ye, take care Mad! <3

Oh, also, just so it's not ALL just angst, a few Penelope and Baby Telemachus headcanons/shenanigans? They mean the world to both Odysseus AND me 🥹

So, this is a really fun ask...But I don't think you're going to get the answer you'd like from me :')

As many folks know, I am a big lover of fluff and very soft stuff. I have angst but even then I would consider it more hurt/comfort in a way as I do plan for the "comfort" to be what's most important :) I also just think of "angst" as just the "something that makes sense storywise".

The Tele-GONE-y to me, is just blatent whump. Not really my cup of tea.

Also the Tele-GONE-y has the whole bullshit about Odysseus doing fuck all in random war, getting married and having children with a random af woman, before coming back to get killed. So that's just...ew. All of it is ew.

And I don't even like the idea of Telegonus existing in any form. At most, Telegonus would only exist in my mind as Polites' son. (not based on Epic at all. This Polites is my own special guy. He's my lil weird goober of my own design reeeeee) My dear friend thehelplessmortals is the only person who I feel explores it in a way that makes sense to me and seems canon.

As you put it into words:

"And she waited so long, and he went through so much, just for him to get killed by some borderline (Not fully) rapeling. That's so heart-wrenching."

And it's just TOO heartwrenching for me :') I can't do it. It's honestly such a horrifying scenario that I got nauseous the first time I heard about it. (that's not even getting into the gross out of character marriage circle and Odysseus fucking around away from his family)

For me, I cannot see Circe (my Circe definitely) as a mother regardless. She wasn't made for motherhood. Also Odysseus and her only have sex once in my writing in exchange for his men to be turned back into humans. (as it's only stated explicitly once in the Odyssey)

The Odyssey also says that Odysseus' line only has one son each. That's Telemachus. (OdyPen can have a daughter though! >:3 Girldad Odysseus is very tasty for me)

If you're just into the angst of Odysseus' death, I got a bit of that though :'D

Penelope being 75% Naiads will live a long life. And Odysseus, being her husband, gets the advantages of having a magic Water wifey and that affects him in how he will live a long life as well (Calypso also gave him ambrosia/nectar to keep him alive. as he was nearly dead when he washed up.)

BUT. He is mostly mortal. He lives way beyond what is normal for Mortals but still.

His hair now fully gray. His breathing raspy and slow. He's slow to move...

Penelope lives a bit afterward. Sleeping and taking comfort in their nest that cradles her as she sleeps. She feels him everywhere. She grieves him endlessly.

Their nest starts to wilt. Only when she goes too does it come alive again.

And for some random Penelope and Telemachus headcanons :P

Nereids have lined bioluminescence, while NAIADS have spots. Like the black spots on the beloved rainbow trout 🥹 (they don't have the black spots. they just have spots that glow in their own control lol)

Telemachus gets "spots" from both his mama (naiad scales/glowbit) and his papa (freckles) 🥹

It's what they use to communicate underwater. And it's nice because even if you're not full naiad and don't have as many scales, you can still communicate as it's about the flickers :3 (Odysseus can understand these to a degree)

Very rarely do they "just randomly glow" as you know, don't wanna give away your thoughts. But it's cute because Odysseus will occasionally have a lightshow when one of them is dreaming.

I know a lot of people have Penelope see Odysseus in Telemachus constantly, and while she does to a degree, she is actually one of the few people who really emphasizes that he's his own person. You don't have to be good at whittling, you make such beautiful pottery. You like green, not orange. You don't have to pick that color when it's not your favorite and because other people simply get excited about you being like your dad sometimes. That type of stuff.

You take care too, Dear Anon! :D

[kajaono]

Part 1: Benedicts arc - How season 3 fixed a major issue of season 1

Because I hit the desktop picture limit this meta will be posted in two parts. (you can find part 2 here)

If you watch season 3 as a standalone season Benedicts coming out arc might feel rushed and without any build up. But if you look closer it is actually a really beautiful way of fixing a huge issue of season 1. Stick with me here.

Part 1: The very first trailer and the failure of season 1

When the very first trailer for Bridgerton season 1 dropped it included this short snippet:

Its part of a bigger sequence, containing a lot of people having sex, showing that Bridgerton is "different" then other period shows. Interesting here: all other sex scene shown in the trailer are straight, only this one here, showing Benedict, half undressed, in the middle of an orgy, is queer. So the very first time we see Benedict he is immediately connected to something queer. Many people even thought it is Benedict who is having sex with another man here, saying: "Ah that makes sense that they would make Benedict queer. It fits his characters." (remeber: we didn't knew the context of those two snippets yet)

So this was the expectation many people (me included) started into season 1.

Entering the picture: Lord Granville. Who already enters the show in episode 3. A cute artist who is clearly gay and starts hitting on Benedict.... i mean introduces him into the artist world.

A world that - from the beginning onwards - is strongly connected to lust.

And Benedict likes what he sees.

But what so interesting here. While Benedicts focus is clearly on the naked women in this moment, Lord Granvilles focus is clearly on Benedict.

And the show also plays with other romantic tropes, like the hidden meeting during night times, nervously looking around if someone will see him:

All of this raising your expectation that a queer love story is happening here.

And now, the orgy:

the scene opens with a lot of people having wild sex with eachother. From a modern POV it would just be normal if there are also a few queer people involved here

But nope, you don't see any queer people until!

Benedict is looking for a comfy place to make out with his female partner and discovers what is hidden behind closed doors. Queer people do exists, hidden in the shadows, but they exist. And men can sleep with men.

Shocked by the discovery that his new artist friend is gay (who could have guess?!/s) Benedict closes the door. He doesn't snitch but you can clearly see that he is in shock.

And here starts the huge failure of season 1 imo.

First at all we discover it is in fact NOT Benedict who is having sex with a man, so the season 1 trailer was in fact just queerbaiting. Benedict then turns around and has sex with two women instead. Something that is still considered scandalous, but not as scandalous as him sleeping with another man:

After Beneidct discovers Lord Granville and his boyfriend having sex, Benedict isn't disgusted, no, actually he is really open minded and still enjoys being around Lord Granville. His wife makes a joke, and you can see Benedict likes this little innuendo

The moment he starts to panic is when Lord Granville wants to introduce him to his boyfriend.

He panics and runs away. After that Lord Granville and his wife look at each other, sad. Like they hoped Benedict would understand. Wow I wonder what they wanted to imply here!

You think its over? HA! No! The queer storyline is coming back once again to haunt Benedict. Benedict walks up to Lord Granville and wants to talk about queer topics:

And now comes the most powerful, and most beautiful... and most pointless scene:

Why pointless you may ask? Because this scene leads nowhere. While Benedict is clearly moved by it, the queer storyline is immeditaly droped after that scene.

My theory was always that this was already a Sophie easter egg, showing how it will take courage for him to love a bastard... but come on... why a queer storyline as a mirror? It feels like the author said: "Yeah it is queer, we weren't lying about that. But it is not Benedict who happens to be queer."

But that doesn't change the fact that Benedicts whole season 1 arc is strongly connected to queerness and disocvering what is going behind closed doors.

That makes season 2 even more disappointing. Because the queer arc is not picked up again, actually completly ignored. Like it never happened.

Read how season 3 fixes that in part 2, here

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 8: The Story

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer and Emily have a moment to talk.

Read chapter 8 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

It was strange how rapidly time had lost all sense of meaning. Days ceased to exist. Hours, minutes, none of it meant anything.These words had been repeated devoid of context or reference so many times they had become completely divorced from the concepts they represented.

He had come to conceptualize of time in the form of bags of fruit.

All that existed in the world was the intervals between fruit deliveries. Those dire stretches of waiting to see if the next thing to come through that door would be doom, or just another bag with too much citrus and not enough apples.

He never thought he would miss fruit again. In fact, he strongly suspected that after leaving the bunker (if they ever did), none of them would ever eat another piece of fresh fruit as long as they lived.

Yet here he was, longing for it.

Since waking up in the stripped bare and scrubbed clean bunker, the clock had stopped.

There had been no more fruit.

Not a single delivery by which to set their metaphorical watches.

Time was transmogrifying once again, warping to fit the shape of this new reality.

It was stretching thin like a long piece of thread. The longer the thread pulled, the hungrier they all got. Once the thread pulled taught and snapped… Well, he didn’t want to think too much about it.

He knew all the theory behind starvation. He did not want to apply this knowledge in practice.

After a week (a week? 14 bags of fruit) in the bunker, they had given up the idea of sleeping in shifts. For the sake of their own sanity, they had decided it was necessary to maintain a routine. Some bastardized semblance of night and day under the endless fluorescent light.

How strange to yearn for the sense of safety they had back then, before the gas. He vowed to never again think ‘it couldn’t be worse,’ because it could be. It always could be.

They had once again taken to sleeping in shifts.

Each of them was desperate to be alerted the very moment food was delivered through that horrid, immovable door. If it ever was again.

They wanted someone awake at all times to look for the trickle or gas from the vent. If it happened again while they were all asleep, they wouldn't be able to cobble together their makeshift masks and protect themselves in some small way.

None of them wanted to have what happened to him, happen to them.

His throat didn't hurt much anymore, at least. He wished he could say the same for his stomach.

It was himself and Emily that were on watch this time. The others slept on the far side of the room, away from the door. He sat nearer the door while Emily paced back and forth. It took a while for the others to fall still and slip into a deeper sleep. They were, understandably, not particularly relaxed.

The cold concrete floor didn’t make for a comfortable bed. Thin, crappy mattresses: Another luxury of days gone by that he found himself dreaming of.

At last, Emily stilled her pacing and looked across at their companions. They had both kept as silent as they could for…. Hours? Minutes? The time it takes for a partially eaten apple to turn an unappetizing brown?

Whatever criteria she had been looking for to assure herself they were in a deep enough sleep, she apparently saw it.

She sat beside him, knees pulled up to her chest, and spoke softly. The room was big enough you could scarcely hear a whisper from the other side even when you were trying, so there wasn’t much danger of bothering them.

“I’m going out of my mind,” she said urgently. “It feels so stupid to say it, as it’s clearly the least of our problems, but I am so bored I could tear my hair out.”

“I understand,” he said. “There are only so many games of mental chess I can play before I start mentally flipping the board.”

She snorted, then hushed herself with a sheepish glance at the others. He smiled.

They were silent again for a moment. It was kind of nice to have some time with her without the others watching. She was the only one who never made him feel pitied.

Soon, though, in as little time as it would take to peel an orange, something in the silence shifted.

He glanced over and saw her her eyes fixed on him, looking as if she had something she wanted to say.

He was tempted to cut her off before she had a chance. He was so sick of everyone trying to make him talk.

He sighed.

He was too tired and too hungry and too bored and too lonely.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

Her gaze softened. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

He stared at her, deliberately blank. “About what?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs lightly.

He smirked. “No really, is there something specific on your mind? Something in particular about me that has you concerned? I wouldn't know.”

She punched him in the upper arm, this time not so lightly. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, do you know that?”

She shoved him and he shoved her back. He leaned his head against the wall with a soft laugh. For a moment they both just breathed.

“Why didn’t you talk to me about John Cooley?” asked Spencer. “He died a year and half ago and I didn’t even know.”

“Because I felt guilty and ashamed,” she admitted candidly. “And because you weren’t around for me to talk to. You haven’t been for a while now.”

He looked down at the floor. “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said earnestly.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” she said. “Just… You know I’m not judging you, right? I’m worried about you, sure, but I don’t think any less of you. Even if you never get clean, I still love you.”

“I know,” he said softly. A beat. “Why? Why aren’t you judging? Everyone else is.”

She didn’t try to convince him otherwise. They both knew he was right. The others might love him, and a couple of them might try to convince him they weren't judging, but they couldn’t help it. It changed the way they saw him, and he understood why. It changed the way he saw himself.

After a while, Emily said, “I think you and I are alike in a lot of ways. I don’t have to tell you that I’ve made some self-destructive choices in my time. I think... I don’t know… I think I want people to know me? Really know me. But I only show them the parts I want them to see, never the full picture. Then, I feel hurt that they don’t really understand me even though I never gave them the chance. Sound familiar?”

He looked her up and down. He thought about all the times he resented them all for not understanding what he was struggling with. He thought about how much more he resented them when they tried to talk to him about it.

He nodded.

He asked: “What would you have done if I had come to you with this?”

“I would have tried to help you.”

“Help me stop using?”

She mused on that for a second. “Yes, but also helped you get whatever support you needed to address why you’re using in the first place,” she said evenly.

“And if I told you I didn’t want that?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. One of the others stirred for a moment but settled quickly. “I would have told you that you couldn’t work on cases anymore until you addressed the problem,” she admitted. “It’s not safe. You know that.”

He nodded again. “That's what I thought. That's also why I haven't come back to the BAU yet. I wasn't ready to choose. Being a profiler, or…” he left the other option unsaid.

“And now? Do you know what you want?”

“I want,” he said, “for all of us to get out of this bunker.”

“After that?”

He looked at her, wanting to reassure her. To give her some small ray of hope and promise her that he wanted to change. But she knew him too well and he respected her too much to pretend, so he said nothing.

The furrow of her brow informed him that she understood his silence all too well.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Spence, but… you know you’re not okay, right? I mean,” she gestured broadly at the room, “obviously none of us are okay. But aside from all this. Whether or not you choose to get help, you do recognize that this isn’t a good way to live?”

His stomach twisted. “I don’t know.” It's not as if his life had been better when he was clean. He didn’t want to think too much about it.

"Heroin, Spencer. You know the risks. I get it, it's more economical than medical grade pharmaceuticals. I bet a habit is hard to support while you're also paying for your mothers care, even on a salary like yours. It adds up." He wanted to yell at her to stop profiling him, to stop talking, but all he could do was look at his hands as he wound them together absently. She powered on, "It could be cut with anything. You can only be so careful."

"What do you want me to say?" he whispered.

“I don't know. I guess I just want to understand. Do you… do you want to die?”

He felt a jolt in his chest, as if he was falling. Her voice sounded small. Frightened. Desperately unlike the Emily Prentiss he knew.

“No,” he assured her. “I am not suicidal. I'm not John. You don't have to worry about that."

“Do you want to live?”

A beat.

Did he? Of course he did. Of course he wanted to live. “Yes,” he said, knowing immediately that it had taken him too long to say it.

She frowned. “One last one, and this might be the hard one,” she said. “Would you still want to live if you couldn’t get high anymore?”

A beat.

“I-” his breath hitched. “I don’t think this is really the time or the place for this conversation,” he said shortly, a lump forming in his throat.

A hand entangled itself in his and squeezed gently. He stared at the far wall, blinking back moisture that threatened to spill. After a few seconds, a head came to rest on his shoulder.

“Just promise me you won’t disappear on me when we get out of here. Let’s keep talking, even when neither of us have anything good to say,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes. When we get out. Maybe he could believe it if he just tried hard enough. “I promise.”

They sat together in silence for... a minute? An hour? The time it takes to eat half a bag of fruit?

His head was lolling down, eyes heavy, when Emily’s hushed voice jolted him back into alertness.

“So,” she started with a conspiratorial whisper, “would you really fuck Luke? Because you did not have to think about that answer at all.”

“Shut up,” he snapped back, burying his face in his hands. “It was just a game.”

She smiled wryly. “Do you like like him?” she goaded.

He laughed just a little too loud. Emily hushed him and he rushed to stifle it. They looked over to their sleeping friends. A couple of them stirred briefly but did not wake.

Spencer replied in a careful whisper, “No. You’re being childish.”

She narrowed her eyes, assessing him coolly. “But you would sleep with him, wouldn’t you?”

It wasn’t a question.

"Is it too late to go back to talking about my drug use?"

"Yep! We're talking about this now. Answer the question."

He didn’t know how to respond, so he just shrugged. Apparently, it was all the answer she needed. Her eyes widened.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed victoriously, followed instantly by slapping her hand over her mouth.

A series of groans emanated from across the room. Hotch was the fastest to his feet, followed by Derek, both looking at Emily questioningly, poised as if ready to fight.

“What do you know? What’s happening?” asked Derek, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” said Emily sheepishly while Spencer laughed at her. “I didn’t mean for that to be so loud. Everything is fine please go back to sleep,” she insisted.

“Too late for that,” said JJ, stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

“Did something happen?” asked Rossi. “Any new deliveries?”

“No,” said Emily to a room full of discouraged, gaunt faces. “Just Spencer and I talking shit."

“Oh yeah?” said Derek with a slanted smirk, glancing between Emily and Spencer. “What were you talking about that’s got you so worked up?”

Emily met Spencer’s eyes for a fraction of a second. He hoped it was enough for her to understand. This was not the setting in which he wanted to have that conversation.

“We were talking about the most trouble we ever got in at school,” she said without missing a beat. “I always knew Spencer was more of a troublemaker than he lets on.”

“Why am I not surprised?” said Derek with a laugh.

“Well, let’s hear it then,” prompted Rossi, still bleary eyed.

“It’s not that bad,” Spencer said, glad that Emily had provided a deflection he could work with so easily. “I was suspended one time in an otherwise exceptional academic career.”

“What could you have possibly done that was bad enough to make them suspend you? The positive media attention you must have been bringing the school would have been invaluable. I would have thought you could get away with anything," said JJ, her old public relations training never too far below the surface.

It was true. Prodigious geniuses could bring a lot of additional funding and opportunities for schools. That didn’t necessarily mean his teachers liked him or felt particularly protective of him.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” he prefaced. “It was right before I graduated, after I’d received early admission from Cal Tech. There were some older kids at school who had given me a hard time for the past few years,” to put it mildly, “and since I was going to be leaving, I decided I may as well…” he waved his hand in the air, trying to conjure the right words.

“Fuck up their shit?” Derek supplied.

Spencer smiled. “Pretty much. Most of them were preparing for their final exams and I found out that they had paid to access answer keys for some of the tests. My plan was to find out who they were getting the answer keys from and swap out the documents with incorrect keys,” he explained.

“That is a very you approach to vengeance,” said Rossi.

“Unfortunately, it didn’t quite go to plan. I found out their source was from the high school that a friend of mine attended. When I asked my friend for help, he, uh, had some other ideas about how I should be getting back at them. He’d had some similar problems with kids at his own school, but he wasn’t graduating quite as early as me, so I think he was trying to get some vicarious catharsis, maybe.”

Hotch cocked his head. “Ethan,” he said, and Spencer’s stomach twisted. “I remember you talking about him.”

The others nodded in recognition. Emily tilted her head at him curiously. He was sure they all remembered him talking about Ethan, as it was followed very quickly by him absconding from his duties to go visit his old friend during the Ripper case in New Orleans.

“Yeah. Ethan wasn’t as, how should I say this? Reserved, as I was. He thought I should take more extreme measures and I might have let him talk me into it,” he said sheepishly.

“What did you do?” asked Emily, leaning in, apparently forgetting that she was pretending that she’d already heard this story right before waking the others.

Nobody seemed to notice. Or maybe they did, but just didn’t care.

“We- well, the plan was we were going to break into school at night and put, um…” he didn’t want to say it. “This is so embarrassing. We were going to put marijuana in their lockers and then tip off the principal to do a search.”

JJ gasped. “That is devious,” she said with mock indignation.

"Man, with everything you've told me about those assholes, they probably deserved a lot worse than that," said Derek, shaking his head.

“Weren’t you 12 when you graduated high school? How did you even know where to get pot?” asked Emily.

“I didn’t,” he clarified. “I mean, it's Vegas, so it wouldn't have been difficult, but Ethan was the one driving the whole thing. All he had to do was steal it from his father.”

“So how is it that two geniuses with a perfect plan and a thirst for vengeance manage to screw up badly enough to get suspended?” asked Derek, eyes brighter than Spencer had seen them since they had woken up after the gas.

“It would have gone off without a hitch. I was picking the padlocks; Ethan was keeping lookout. I was terrified the entire time, but honestly? It was exciting to feel like I was finally able to fight back. Unfortunately, Ethan hadn’t accounted for just how much of a bastard his father was.”

The others seemed surprised at Spencer describing someone in that way, let alone his friend's father. They wouldn’t be surprised if they had met the man. Spencer didn’t think of himself as a judgemental person, but bastard was a mild description of Ethan’s father.

Hotch grimaced. “I suspect I know where this is going.”

Of course he did. Ethan would like Hotch, he thought. The two of them had a lot in common despite their contrasting personalities.

“His father reported us to the police. I still don't know what he told them, but they caught us trespassing on school grounds after hours. We got lucky and heard them coming just in time to run for the bathroom and flush the remaining evidence. They didn’t think to do a sweep of the lockers and the boys who we were trying to set up certainly weren't going to report drugs in their lockers."

The memories came to him as they always did; crisp and clean as if it had all happened yesterday. Ethan was wearing a thick blue jumper even though it was warm out. The taller police officer was named Michael Diaz and he laughed when Spencer begged him not to tell his mom, then called her anyway.

"Oh god,” he breathed. He was surprised by the pang of shame that shot through his heart. “I was so afraid of what my mom was going to think. They were going to tell her that we were there to get high and I was scared she wouldn't believe me when I told her the truth,” he said tightly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t want her to think that I could be stupid enough to do something like that.”

The irony wasn’t lost on any of them. Suddenly, the story didn’t seem so funny.

It had seemed so obvious to him at that age. Right and wrong were as easy as asking himself, would this disappoint my mom?

He could tell them how the story ended.

Ethan willingly took the blame for everything before Spencer could say a word and got hit with a misdemeanor charge for trespassing. Thankfully, that was all they could prove. He was a juvenile first-time offender with a glowing academic record, so the case was dismissed, but that didn’t stop his father from beating the shit out of him for it.

Spencer’s mom didn’t pick up the phone when the police tried to call her, so officer Diaz drove him home. When the school sent a letter informing her that he was suspended, he tore it up and told her he was feeling too sick to go in. She never questioned it. She just seemed happy to have him home.

He could tell them all of that.

But he didn’t need to.

It was hard to look back at that 12 year old boy and imagine how he could become the kind of man who his mother would be ashamed of if she only knew the truth.

“Did you ever talk to your mom about what happened in Georgia? About everything that came after?” asked JJ gently.

“Of course not,” he answered quickly. “What good would that do?”

“It might make you feel better,” she offered. “I think she would understand.”

“She already worries about me so much. She’s not well. It wouldn’t help anything to worry her more.” She would probably forget it right after he told her, anyway. He sighed. “I hope someone’s checking in on her.”

“I’m sure Penelope is,” said Emily, setting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure the others are looking out for all of our families,” she said to the room. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but we’re going to be okay. You're going to see them again. I promise you; we’re going to make it out of this.”

Hotch nodded at her, a gesture of support. “Emily is right. I know we’re all exhausted and scared and hungry, but we know that there are people on the outside who are looking for us. We have to trust them to do their jobs.”

"It's not gonna matter much if we starve in here," said Derek ruefully.

“The thing about hunger,” said Rossi, “is that sooner than later it’s going to fuck with your head in ways you don’t expect. But it won’t last forever. It doesn’t fit the profile for her to starve us and if we're right about either her or her accomplice having medical training, then they won't let it go too far. As hard as it sounds, we have to try to keep morale up, and the best way to deal with hunger is distraction. So let’s cut it with the melancholy and find a way to keep ourselves entertained. Reid,” he said. Spencer stared at him questioningly. “Have you ever considered narrating an audiobook?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No?”

Audiobooks were not his preferred medium. He found them unbearably slow.

“Too bad. Because I think a good book is just what the situation calls for and as the only one of us with an eidetic memory, you’ve drawn the short straw.”

Spencer couldn’t help but crack a small smile, doing his best impression of a man who wasn't hollow inside. “As long as I get to choose the book.”

“Naturally.”

The thread of time stretched longer, pulled taught, crept ever closer to breaking. He hungered. It gnashed and gnawed, making his stomach turn and his forearm itch and he couldn't say for sure which hunger he would satisfy first if he had the choice.

But he pushed it down. In his mind, he ran his finger along a row of books in a vast library, and thought about what story would best bring them all a little comfort.