#there was one episode where a woman murdered her step father after finding out that he had murdered her father

[newlyy]

im closer to my family than i am to any friends just by virtue of shared history and living together. when im doing really badly, i only go to my family, when i need help i go to my family first, my anxiety is lowest around my family, etc etc. family is significant for me, which makes me afraid of getting older and losing it. idk who i’d be without my core four-person family and our home base. im about to cry just thinking about it, i NEED them, I am them, they are me

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I had one of my most brilliant Titans revelations today

a huge overarching theme of Season 3 and Titans at large:

Be Better Than Your Parents aka The 51% Rule

The episode titles of Titans are always something I find utterly fucking fascinating and so well chosen - like how the episode where Hank and Dawn are introduced is called 'Hawk and Dove' (because they are struggling with their hero identities and considering quitting), and the episode with their backstories is called 'Hank and Dawn' - because we get to know the real them, and the episode where Hank dies is called Hank & Dove - because Dawn is wearing her costume, trying her hardest to save Hank when the bomb goes off, and Hank is stripped down and completely vulnerable (and because Hank was trying to retire and he only came back to the Titans lifestyle because Dawn was continuing on as Dove).

51% is an episode that I fucking love as a title and as an episode overall, and I love how it speaks to the theme of the show overall

if you don't remember the specific episode or where the title comes from, let me catch you up. Blackfire and Kory are trying to track down a machine that Crane could be using to mass produce the anti fear gas (which makes people erratic and more likely to commit violent crimes) at a much faster rate, and they have gotten a tip that one of the mobsters Crane is working with isn't satisfied, so they go to talk to her.

Kory is hesitant to willingly work with a criminal, even if the outcome gets the drug off the streets and keeps people safe, so Blackfire reminds her of something that their father used to say:

When making decisions, think of the 51% Rule. If a decision is 51% good and 49% bad, then you do it anyway. Because if it's only by a slight bit - the good outweighs the bad.

Kory says 'I hope you reminded father of that when you were killing him' - and this leads Blackfire to remind Kory that this rule was implemented all throughout their childhood. And it lead to Blackfire being abused and neglected while Kory was beloved and favoured - something that Kory is trying to heal by being an ally to her sister rather than leaving her to let that abuse continue at the hands of the US government.

The theme of breaking away from abusive parenting comes up in the episode again - the mobster agrees to work with them as long as Kory and Blackfire bring her son to her, and Kory (being good natured) believe that it's because she wants to reunite with her son and make amends with him, but the woman ends up murdering her son because he was supposedly giving information about her criminal empire to the FBI. And so, Kory lashes out and (rightfully) murders the woman - and we see Blackfire have a fondness for Kory murdering an abuser and bringing justice, be better than their parents would have been in the face of a situation like this.

And it's not just this episode, the theme persists throughout the season.

Barbara and Dick - but let's just focus on Dick for a second.

"Be a better Batman."

This is from the ... first? Episode I believe. (The first or the second.) Bruce murders the Joker and then shows up in Dick's room in the middle of the night, covered in blood, and drops a bloody crowbar on Dick's floor - he tells Dick that he's done with Gotham, and that Dick should 'be a better Batman'.

When Dick brings this up to Barbara, she tells him how utterly ridiculous this is - and how it's just Bruce goading him with temptation and Daddy issues, and he reminds her that she became Commissioner Gordon after her own father died, and almost instantly - we see Commissioner Gordon and a new Head Bat, working together seamlessly, but in a new way.

Barbara always desired to be different from her father - she never puts too much trust in Dick, and if she does, she knows when to step back from it. She has a strong sense of justice - she's intelligent and vibrant and energetic and she feels that no person is 'too small' or too unimportant to save.

Dick instantly understands compromise. He's not as independent or stubborn as Bruce because he's used to working with a team, and he learns to delegate early on. He understands the importance of others playing a role aside from himself.

More threads I find important under this theme:

Crane has a scene with his mother. He blames her for pressuring him too much in life, and the fact that he even became a doctor - later on, when he has a mental breaking point, it seems like he goes to the mental extreme of mutilating himself because he believed that he was never good enough in his mother's eyes.

Jason and Dick as 'brothers' - the whole show has a lot of interesting threads about these two and their 'brotherhood', even though in this universe they weren't raised as brothers. But every single fight they have, or every single discussion Dick has about Jason (even discussions that Jason has with Bruce in the flashbacks) - always goes back to Bruce.

It goes back to how Bruce treated them differently.

And I think because Dick always finds opposition and competition in Jason, he never found it in himself to forgive Jason, and he misdirects that 'forgiveness' and better treatment to Rachel and Gar, and in a sense - he feels the need to oppose Jason continually, right up until the end - because he feels that Jason always got better treatment from Bruce. (When neither of them were treated as a child should be, they were just treated very differently.)

I mentioned this earlier, but the fact that Kory rescues Blackfire from the government facility, seemingly to make up for the damage that their parents caused. And finding out later in the season that their parents treated them so unfairly because they used magic to steal Blackfire's natural powers and give them to Starfire, and then treated Blackfire like a powerless outcast her whole life - there is just so many layers to unpack there. But Kory was basically ending the general trauma and abuse by discovering this family secret and finally giving her sister fair treatment.

Dick has closure in having a dream about his real father - and then dreams of becoming a parent himself. I am not a huge fan of the visions with M'ari, not because I don't like her (that baby is so stinkin cuuuuute omg) - I am just not a huge fan of the trope of 'having a baby and getting married = happy ending'. Especially because the show split up the Titans family and Dick and Kory stayed together under the impression that this would happen.

BUT - I did love how Dick's form of closure, after obsessing about following in Bruce's footsteps as Batman, and reflecting on how Bruce treated him and Jason, and having all those flashbacks to his childhood where Bruce treated him horribly (but in his adulthood, he considered it 'training') - Dick gets to have genuine closure by seeing his real father one last time, who tells Dick that he is proud of him.

Especially after the Pit shows him a vision of himself as The Joker, killing Jason - which I have just now realized represents Dick taking on Bruce's burdens. Holy fuck. Because it has been established throughout the whole season that if Bruce had treated Jason better, then Jason wouldn't have run off on his own, and he wouldn't have gotten killed by the Joker.

And Dick probably feels the same way about Jason getting kidnapped and tortured by Deathstroke, and be probably still feels responsible for everything that happened there, like when he dropped Jason and a hallucination of Bruce was tormenting him for not taking better care of Jason - so in that torment, and after trying to BE A BETTER BATMAN for weeks, maybe months, and seemingly failing after he dies in an altercation with Jason (someone who wouldn't be Red Hood without Dick's own mistakes) - Dick steps into The Joker's costume and literally murders Jason while Jason is wearing his Robin outfit.

He is killing this more innocent version of Jason because he feels deeply responsible for doing so.

(I have to take a step back because I literally had this realization while typing this.)

And then he is told by his own father that he can let go of that burden - and it's one of the only times he actually gets real, true closure.

I know a lot of people think that the vision of M'ari turned Dick into RV Dad Bot 1.0, but I think it was his father giving him closure that truly made him ready to take on the family and play the part.

Anyway - that's all I have for you today. I have to go before I make anymore mind bending revelations

[starseneyes]

Chenford - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 5 - Ep 13

Daddy Cop AKA "Friends Don't Let Friends Murder Board… Alone"

After watching 5x13, I really didn't think I could write the Meta until I had 5x14 for additional context. But after taking a step back and re-evaluating my hangups, I found a way. I do hope you enjoy it!

SPOILER ALERT: If you're looking for a nice, safe, spoiler-free zone... I'm sorry, this ain't it. I will spoil the entirety of the episode and perhaps the entire series to date. It's a LOT of fun, though, if you're up for it!

Ready to see what awaits our delightful duo now that Chenford Coitus has been achieved? Let's dive in!

Nobody Puts Timmy In A Corner

Lucy is sitting at the back of Roll Call so she can keep an eye on Tim. He doesn't even have to turn around for her to feel the misery coming off of him, even through the walls.

Tim hates this. But it's what he has to do for love, right?

My Chair is Moving

Like, this was so personal, and yet so sweet. She totally turned his chair toward her, and he was happy to go along because—let's be real—she's the best part of his day.

Seeing Tim without his set up for his camera on his chest is strange. I know it hasn't been there all along series-wise, but it really stood out to me watching this scene. No need for them to monitor what he's doing with the public because he no longer see the public. He sees... part of a window.

It's been one week based on Canon, so we know he's already bored out of his mind... no matter what he tells his girlfriend. (I will never get over getting to call Lucy Chen that! She's Tim Bradford's girlfriend)

"I thought we said we wound never lie to each other."

There are a million conversations happening between these two that we never see. We have fan fiction where we can speculate on it, but at first blush I really appreciated this glimpse into their shared code.

Now, they spend the entire episode going against said code (which I'll get into at the end of this Meta), but I do like that we have insight into what happens when the camera's not rolling between Tim and Lucy.

"That was a lie." "You're miserable."

She knows her man. I mean, anyone paying attention can tell that Tim's having a horrible time working at a desk. Now, he's got productivity up and whatnot, but he's miserable.

We saw him make the sacrifice play in 5x12, but now seeing him living it is akin to us hearing about the Monster that was his father and then meeting the man, ourselves. It's about as bad as imagined, in both cases, but there's something about seeing it that makes it more "real".

Desk work for Tim Bradford is bleak. But, he'll do whatever it takes to be with the woman he loves.

"No. It's not that bad. Nice people. Low stress. Wait, wait that reminds me... next week." "Thank you." "You're welcome. Be safe out there. I'll see you at the end of shift."

I'm reminded of 4x01 when Lucy asked Tim to be careful over the phone. "I always am," he said. This time, it's Tim who's staying in place and Lucy who's on the move.

And the face she gave him when he gave her the thumbs up? Like, "don't give me the bad baseball thumbs up!" She gives him an aghast look, but he follows up quickly enough to reference the end of shift—his happy place.

The same schedule means they can see each other every day, yes, but during the day it's bloody torture for Tim. There was a song in my youth about living for the weekends. Right now, Tim is living for end-of-shift. (originally I typoed to "end-of-shirt" and that kinda works, too, if ya know what I mean)

When she walks away, he exhales, thinking his charade worked. Hell, no, Tim, my boy. Your girl knows when you're hurting. ("I rode long enough with you to know when you are being you and when you're upset")

Lucy is in the best relationship of her life. No way she's going to stand still while he's struggling. This is the ultimate give-and-take. Tim steps back for Lucy, Lucy steps up for Tim.

"I'm just trying to find a way to keep him from losing his mind." "Is there no other position he can move into?" "No. Everything's at a standstill."

Stripping away the "do they know" question (which I cover in the summary at the end of this Meta), I'm going to just talk about Nyla and Lucy watching out for Tim.

Lucy intervening on Tim's behalf is not surprising. She stood up for him against the Sergeant who wasn't taking the fender-bender case seriously. She recorded multiple books-on-tape for him so he could study for the Sergeant's exam. Heck, she helped renovate his home while he was dating Discount Barbie.

So, Lucy stepping up for Tim would never be what raised red flags on their relationship status change. Yes, I expected someone to comment on Tim being "punished" or something if they weren't aware of the relationship, but since they didn't, we work with what we've got.

And what we've got is everyone aware that Tim's in a job he hates and wants out of.

"Alright, well, then you're going to have to shake things up… create an opening... It means you've gotta get creative. Find a weak link and start a 5-player trade." "Say more."

"Say more" cracks me up. It's so smooth and welcoming.

Girlfriend is finally seeing an angle for her "find Tim a new job" plan. It reminds me of her telling him, once, that he's the king of coming at problems from a sideways angle. Looks like the student really has become the master!

"Metro would be a good fit for Tim... I mean, Hicks might be up for a transfer, a bit more family time... if he left Metro, Tim could take his spot."

The one part I skipped over here is the part that I think would be an interesting test for Tim and Lucy—can they navigate the brutal hours?

I tried to look up the LA Metro to get a little more intel (yes, I'm that Meta writer), but information's sparse online in terms of actual timelines for the teams and shifts. There's likely good reason for it ("Hey, coppers! When will you be off the streets so we can pilfer some golden duckets?"), but I had to check. It's the journalist in me.

It's not like we've never seen Metro before on this show. I was watching an episode the other day where they radio'd to call in Metro and we saw a bunch of folks we didn't know in tactical vests show up. They'll find ways to tie Tim in, I'm sure, but I'll be curious to see if/how it affects Tim and Lucy's relationship.

"What could go wrong?" "A lot for both you and Tim. If Sergeants feel like they're being manipulated, they will never trust you again. And they talk. So the next time you need a favor, and you will, the answer will be no. Forever. So, tread lightly."

Will there be any consequences for all this? I've seen the speculation, but I think all this warning did was encourage Lucy to be crafty. See Exhibit A below.

"Uh, listen, my roommate is an excellent babysitter and she's always looking for work if you ever need someone."

Never underestimate the power of childcare. Especially for parents of multiples. I only had twins, and I can still imagine the chaos of that poor man's house and life. It's a gift, yes, but I wouldn't wish twins on my worst enemy.

Every time I see a character on a show having multiples, I wonder who in the Writer's Room hated them, because it's a tough, tough road. I love my boys forever and ever. But it's a unique challenge raising multiples.

And Hicks is intrigued. Because finding people to watch multiples can be a nightmare, too. Trust me. I've been there and tried all the sites before I finally gave up on Brick-and-Mortar and started working for myself.

The Gang's All Here

This was my second favorite scene of the entire episode. I love the Found Family trope. I love that there is this core of people who have decided to not only work together, but to do life together.

I don't have that through any of my brick-and-mortar jobs (mostly back-stabbers and high drama, there), but I do have it from University. 20 years with the best friends in the world. So, I see these scenes and I see my own Found Family reflected there.

As each group files in (and someone over on Twitter noted quite brilliantly how each door opening coincides with a different method of announcement—knocking, ringing, walking right in), it's adding the layers to the scene. It's not convoluted or complicated or cachophonic. It's harmonious.

You can see how all these very different people work together, compliment one another, and fit together into a jigsaw puzzle of friendship.

And to know that Tim's friends band together to come to his aid means so much. But I hate that he doesn't know.

I understand the subterfuge of doing something great for someone you love—orchestrating a great something. My husband did it for me through a four-hour scavenger hunt marriage proposal that took me through several cities before arriving in the theater where we met. He had production meetings for that proposal.

So, I'm not frustrated at the fact that Lucy did this without taking credit for it. I've done things in secret for my loveyby and him for me.

However, I wish Tim knew how much he was loved. I don't think he fully comprehends that yet, and since this wasn't used as an opportunity to demonstrate that to him, I'm hoping that'll come down the line.

Look, when you grow up thinking you're unlovable, it's powerful when your friends come through for you.

My husband and I had to get a new fridge a few months back. Old one died. But we couldn't afford to go through a box store, so we went Outlet and had to transport it ourselves. One friend fractured a finger. Four others worked together to dismantle and reassemble it to get it into the house. It took 2 hours. They had come over for Matthew's birthday party and instead we moved a fridge.

And not one person complained. We all laughed. We took hilarious photos. We had an amazing time. Because, finally, we have people in our lives who love us without condition.

Tim has that, too, but I sometimes think he doesn't fully understand it. I do wish he knew how much they love him and how they all came together to help him as an act of love.

And if he doesn't find out about this, I do hope there's still a time down the line when Tim Bradford will fully realize how much his Found Family loves him.

"Oh, you look surprised. Wait, weren't you on the group text?"

I'm DYING. DYING that they have a group chat and somehow Nolan still missed it. I know he said that he unplugs when he gets home (which is a great thing to do, but I don't know if he'll continue to move up the ranks without being more easy-to-reach). But it really made me cackle.

And I have to say that the choice to put the post-its on the windows so they could shoot through was really genius. My favorite logistical decision of the episode. Credit to the writer, director, set designer, or whoever said, "This is the way".

But Tim's reaction to Nolan throwing up his arm to block his way cracked me up. Like, Eric Winter's physicality as Tim never fails to amuse and amaze.

And Lucy's "where the hell do I put these things!?" face had me rolling. Melissa O'Neil has had a lot of room for humor these past few episodes, and it's fun to see her show off her chops.

"Is that Lucy's car?"

Yes, Tim. And Wesley's, James'. It's a party! But, of course, the only one he cares about belongs to his love.

And how on-brand is it for Tim that he doesn't care about the air conditioning ("air conditioning makes you soft") but he was all about getting to watch the game? I cackled.

Tim clocks Lucy across the room and Angela clocks their interaction, casting knowing glances towards Bailey and Nyla. Hermana, never change. That choice was all Alyssa Diaz and I love it.

"You okay?" "Yeah. Couldn't be better."

It's not a lie! But, she certainly has a lot on her mind, and as soon as he walks into the room, Tim's forgotten the game. He's focused solely on her.

Smitty and Lucy

This is a tiny detail I spotted as Lucy walks into the room, but it made me laugh. The sign on the door has been switched to "occupied" but the door is wide open. Did Smitty set it to occupied but forget to close the door? Did someone else switch the sign to warn of Smitty? The possibilities are hilarious!

And Lucy Chen loves Tim Bradford so much that she's willing to make a blind deal with Smitty, of all people. And does Smitty know about Lucy and Tim? Is he writing fanfiction of the two of them at his desk instead of working?

"Nothing weird." "Nothing weird. I promise."

Because with Smitty, you have to clarify. Still, she's braver than I am to make this deal with zero idea what he'll demand in return for this favor.

"Deal."

Taking your husband's words? I stan a couple who are so in love they pick up on one another's phrasing. I can think of two recent examples of Tim ending a conversation with "Deal" from my re-viewings. With Genny at their family house, and with Lucy when she told him to ask her out, again, after she dumped Dead-Weight-Chris.

So, Lucy's subconsciously picking up on Tim's words, and that cracks me up.

My husband picks up on my phrasing, but it's more obvious because I make up things. Like when our twins were tiny and complaining about random things, I'd call them "Complainababy" and if they were congested they were "Conjestababy". Yes, I understand normal people don't do that. I embrace who I am.

And watch how she flexes her hands as soon as she leaves the room to rid herself of the awful feeling of making a deal with the Smitty. Sorry, Lucy, but there won't be enough hand sanitizer in the world to save you from what he has planned for you.

"Hey." "Hey." "I just heard Lauren Fuji is retiring." "Really? That's surprising."

I have thoughts about this that are at the bottom of the episode notes, so skip there if you want my honest thoughts on this right away. Or you can keep reading the Meta and we'll get to that later.

"Don't you get it? It means there's an opening in Metro. Well, at least there was."

This is the first information to Lucy that's new, and she cocks her head at it. Because it is completely plausible that someone else swooped in and took the position she tried so hard to hand-carve for Tim. And that would suck, but it can totally happen.

And I love the way Tim (via Eric Winter) is punctuating his words, here. Tim is pumped up and excited, and it's so beautiful to see. He has been through so much heartache throughout the run of this show. We've seen Tim Bradford at his lowest.

But now we get to see him on the way up in a big way.

"Lieutenant Pine just called me 15 minutes ago, and I'm going over."

Timothy Bradford, you are gushing with excitement as you talk to your woman. I love how he leans forward toward her, like a kid with a secret that they can't help but share on the playground.

"That's great! Congratulations."

Lucy gives him a chest tap because she is truly excited for her man. I'm a tapper, myself, with my husband. So I think it's cute we share that, me and my fictional bestie.

But, she's also looking around the station to see if anyone noticed.

"Thanks. Grey gave me rock star review." "Well, he should. You're amazing."

Lucy's heart eyes and Tim's smile are sending me. He is smiling with all his teeth and every beautiful laugh line is alight with pure joy.

I'm also strangely excited to learn that Eric Winter's nose wrinkles like mine when he smiles big, sometimes, and that's so oddly comforting. My Eldest's nose does the same thing.

And how telling is it that we've had 5 years of watching Tim Bradford before I knew this little fact about his smile because we have never seen him smile like this before?

"I'm excited." *giggle* "I'm excited!"

There is something so sweet about excitement being such a foreign emotion to Tim that he has to verbalize it. Like it's bubbling out of him at a rate he can't control because he isn't accustomed to joy.

The last time he was happy, he was working the beat and was married to Isabelle. But, I argue, this is joy, not happiness bred of happenstance. Tim Bradford is bubbling with joy.

Professionally, his greatest fear has been advancing to the point that he's trapped at a desk. Tim likes to be on the streets, in the middle of the action, making things happen. Sitting might be great for Smitty, but not for Tim.

He took that hit for the love of Lucy. Now, everything in this episode implies that this was a waystation situation, where Tim was waiting for an opening to make a move. Grey tells him to "hang in there" and Nyla seems completely aware that they're waiting for something to open up to move him over.

His main goal in taking this desk job was to keep Lucy at Mid-Wilshire. The icing on the cake was that they got to see each other every day and didn't have to deal with syncing shifts.

Lucy knew before Tim took the job that he'd be positively miserable. The staging literally has him in a corner with his back to Roll Call, his back to the action, his back to what he loves.

Now, he's moving up to Metro, and it's definitely movement forward in his career, gets him back out on the streets, and keeps his relationship with Lucy from crossing any lines that might warrant an IA investigation.

The Tim Bradford we met in the Pilot was a man whose life was on pause. He was in a holding pattern with his job, with his wife, with his sense of self. Lucy entered his life, and it's like someone pressed "Play", again.

And it wasn't even romantic, at the beginning. Lucy is just this ball of light that stepped into his world. At first, it was blinding to him and he bit back at her as much as she snapped at him. But as she refined her glow, he softened his gaze, and they somehow met in the middle when the time was right.

Tim Bradford today is a man who has faced his trauma with his father head-on. Is there still healing to do? Hell, yeah. But he's on his way, now, instead of repressing and avoiding. He's working on his relationship with his little sister.

He's trying to be a complete human being—not only running from the image of his father, but embracing all the best parts of himself and owning them as his own unique identity.

Tim Bradford is closer to himself than he's been in a long time. Peeling back the layers of anguish, trauma, heartache, and abuse... it's taken time. And Lucy's been there for so much of it. For her to be the love of his life? Only fate (and the writers) could weave the tapestry so aptly.

Tim is excited. He has something to look forward to every day in his job. He has something to look forward to every night with the woman he loves. He's no longer looking back. For the first time in his life, Tim can truly look forward with excitement.

And Lucy's giggle!? I love her giggle. I doubt she's ever seen Tim this giddy and it made her giggle. And, yes, we know that she made that happen.

And, let me tell you, it's fun when you can make something happen for the person that you love. Puts a special warmth in your chest the bubbles out, sometimes.

"Let's go to dinner tonight and celebrate."

The cadence here reminds me of Tim telling Angela to proudly show off her baby belly while wedding dress shopping. It's a type of abandon we've heard in Tim's voice only when directed at other people and never at himself.

Tim wants to celebrate this amazing achievement. He wants to celebrate something amazing that happened to him. Before, he wasn't that jazzed about his award, except for how it could help with his forward momentum. Jackson built a shelf for his (with Nolan's help), and Tim probably has his in the back of his closet.

But Tim was excited about making Sergeant (remember his pride hanging up his new uniform before he opened his locker to see the booties?) and he's proud of this. But, it's amplified because Tim Bradford's life is finally coming together.

Career. Love. Found Family (even if he doesn't yet realize it). Sibling Relationship. Finances (he and Genny made bank on that house sale in the LA Real Estate Market). Tim's life is coming up Roses.

"Do you need any help?"

I have seen a few people disappointed that Tim didn't show up to help her at the end, but he asked her if she needed him and she said she had to do it alone.

He's not going to go against her wishes because he has learned to trust her and her judgment. He knows that if she truly needs him, she will ask. Lucy's far past not asking Tim for what she needs.

He talked out Emmett with her once he understood that's what she needed. He gave her a hug after Jackson's death.

"But tomorrow it is a date. We are gonna celebrate you. Congratulations. They're really lucky to have you." "Thank you."

Tim can't help himself. He reaches for her left hand with his right. He wants to touch her. He wants to be closer to her. Because he has never been this happy.

Lucy giggles as he briefly holds her hand before she separates herself. But, I swear, that man looked like he wanted to kiss her right then and there.

"Good Job!"

She taps his arm, again, as he goes. And, wow, I can't remember seeing Tim smile this much with teeth ever. He's beaming as he watches her go, his eyes trailing after her until the last second he can no longer see her.

He nods to himself. "Yup. That's the woman I'm going to marry." Not right this moment, obviously, because we're all enjoying the ride and there's no rush. But, someday. And he knows it.

I've seen folks worried about his face falling, but I think we're simply unaccustomed to seeing Tim's face resolve to neutral after a big smile. Something about his face threw me back to 5x02, so I went back and looked. And, yup, tears in his eyes, here, too. Tears of joy.

Tim Bradford is joyful, my friends. So full of joy that it's overflowing. And after all the heartache, heartbreak, and pure hell of his life... it makes it all the sweeter.

This man would do anything for her. She would do anything for him. In one another they've found their equal—that one person who meets them where they are in intensity and devotion.

One flame does not overwhelm the other, but they help each other's glow brighter and stronger. When one is dimming, the other provides the light.

This give-and-take is the culmination of years of long nights, early mornings, complex conversations, deep dives, flare ups, cool downs, in-jokes, and trust building. It's fictional, sure, but we're getting to see true love in real-time, and I am so thankful for this ride.

"I'll admit, I've been lax about cleaning it." "How lax?" "Either Clinton or Bush was the president." "Which Bush!?"

I laughed so hard at this line. It cracked me up so bad I didn't even hear the next lines. Of course, I went back and figured it out, but I love Smitty. In small doses, he really does add a bit of levity to the show.

Also, Lucy in a hazmat suit!? The things she does for love.

Because, even though we didn't see Tim and Lucy in a post-coital cuddle-fest, or a shirtless trek through Lucy's kitchen, or even a kiss between these two this week... we're getting to see sacrificial love. Not the kind that gives too much, but the kind that gives-and-takes.

Tim and Lucy are in love (even if they haven't uttered the words, yet). They're demonstrating it through how they treat one another, and it's such a beautiful reminder that relationships are so much more than sex and attraction.

It's about growing together, supporting one another, calling each other on your crap, and finding ways through the hardships of life together.

This is a place where The Rookie really excels. They show couples who work through life together, who love each other even when there is no cozy morning-after because they overslept, or the alarm went off too early, or a dog or kid needs something.

Love is complex and layered, and I love that we're not seeing Tim and Lucy in pound town every week. Like, sure, they're going there, but to see a healthy relationship? That is what both Tim and Lucy have lacked until now.

Tim and Lucy finally have a love that matches their souls. I'm grateful for every morsel of it that we get to see on screen. But just knowing that Tim and Lucy are this unbelievably happy and they're together? That's enough for me.

I used to watch Janeway and Chakotay touch once every 10 episodes and call it a victory. Mulder and Scully danced around each other forever and I was able to cope. So, the scenes we get of Chenford feel like four course meals, and I'm thankful to eat them again, and again, and again. The meals... I mean.

So, what were Rachel's hangups on this one? Lies, Clarity, and Metro. For separate reasons, I got a little stuck on these three.

Lies

I have a big problem with lies, as some readers know. When Lucy and Tim mentioned they promised not to lie to one another and then spent the entire episode lying, it got under my skin.

Now, I'm all for Loving Spousal Surprises. I've given them (my husband's 30th Nerf Battle Surprise Birthday) and received them (4-hr scavenger hunt Engagement).

But hearing the promise at the beginning followed by a whole episode of lying triggered my trauma.

I started writing the Meta and it was too colored by my own experiences. So, I stepped back, deleted everything I wrote, and started fresh with just the bones.

Sometimes, we have to be careful our past prejudices don't ruin our present experiences. At least, that's something I've learned.

Clarity

The ambiguity as to whether the team is in-the-know, oblivious, or pretending-to-be-oblivious regarding Chenford was frustrating. It made it really hard to write because I felt like the cues from the scenes shifted throughout the episode going in multiple directions.

I am not a person who minds that we didn't get a Morning After (plenty of time to see Domestic Chenford), or that we didn't get the DOD Tattoo (it's hers, not theirs), and I wouldn't even mind if we missed seeing everyone find out/announce they know.

From the first scene with Nyla, I thought they were obviously open about their dating. But, then at Nolan's, Angela was giving "knowing" eyes and Tim kept his distance. Then it was over to the final Chenford scene where Lucy and Tim both look guarded about who might be watching.

My take? I figured everyone knew but Chenford thought they didn't. But, that's a far bigger guess than most of my guesses, so I felt uncomfortable writing it. I like to draw from what I see, not try to draw over it. I'm a hapless fan sharing uneducated interpretations, not the writer of the scenes.

So, I tried to avoid talking about it with this Meta since I don't feel like I can yet speak with certainty on the matter.

Metro

"If you ever do consider Metro, give me a call."

If it was this easy, why did Lucy have to go through a thousand hoops? Sure, it was great practice for the inevitable Wedding Place Setting game down the line, but why was this line here if it wasn't an option for Tim?

And why didn't Nolan say anything during the brainstorming session? I know we like to talk about him being clueless, at times, but he's far from idiotic. It might've been pertinent information, or an "in" to help expedite Tim's ascension.

I struggled with the directionality of the scene. Watching it the first time, I was convinced it would feed into the quest to find Tim a new position. If it wasn't there for Tim, was it to show that Nolan isn't where he's supposed to be? Are we setting up for Nolan to pop over with Tim at some point?

And, again, why didn't anyone think to give her a call about Tim, an officer who is far more seasoned and qualified for the position? No shade thrown at Nolan, but that's objectively true, and I couldn't fathom why this scene was structured the way it was if it wasn't going to help Tim. Maybe it's planting the seed for another episode down the line...

EDIT: The amazing @wordgirl40 pointed out in the comments that all the moving pieces on the board were Sergeants, and that hadn't stuck with me when watching the scene. I still think Nolan could have put in a phone call to help with things, but even that tiny clarification makes it easier to follow. Thank you!

Enough of my hangups. Thanks for bearing with me.

I want to draw out one line that I thought was really interesting, considering the "Found Family" angle of the episode.

Grey told Celina, "You have a new family of brothers and sisters. Remember that."

It's true. Big Brother/TO Tim was the one to realize what was bothering Celina and call her out. And how soft was he with her once he assessed the whole situation (no, he's not single, Carla. Ay, dios mio!)?

Big Brother/TO Nolan ran into the building to retrieve Celina. They had her back professionally and personally.

And the team had Tim and Lucy's backs. Like, this really is a beautiful little Found Family.

When Lucy and Tim do get married, if her parents don't show up, Grey can walk her down the aisle. Tamara will be her Maid of Honor and Tim's Best Woman will be Angela, of course. They'll be surrounded by people who love them without criteria or constraints.

Found Family is often stronger than bio family, I've found. And for Tim and Lucy—two people for whom "family" is a bit broken—their Found Family will always be there for them. For Tim. For Lucy. For Chenford. And for the family they'll build together.

Because love is a gift best given freely and with abandon. That is what this ensemble of characters have. At the end of the day, they will never lack in love.

As always, thanks for reading and bearing with me on the delay on this one. It was the most challenging, thus far. But I'm still loving every second of this Chenford ride.

[cherrykindness]

let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

[jamlavender]

Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss: Mrs Coulter, misogyny and the His Dark Materials TV show

The show went hard on misogyny as a vital part of Mrs Coulter’s backstory, and I want to talk about how they did it, and why, and how it might have been done better. This is quite long (when is anything I write not, let’s be real) so it’s under the cut. Read on for thoughts on women, power and fictional villainy.

As a quick disclaimer, though: I’ve enjoyed the show a lot! I’m so glad they made it! Ruth Wilson is mesmerising as Mrs Coulter! There’s so much to appreciate about the show overall, including many aspects of Mrs Coulter’s portrayal. But the HDM team have also made gender politics and misogyny very explicit themes of the show – particularly season two, particularly season two, episode five – and I think it’s fair to critique that.

Let’s be clear: Mrs Coulter is a villain. She murders kids by tearing out their souls. She kills and tortures friends and foes alike without a second thought. She abuses her daughter. She upholds and advances a totalitarian regime. She’s a Bad Person, as confirmed by God himself with the unforgettable line: “You are a cesspit of moral filth.” She’s fucking terrible, but, in life as in art, many of us are fascinated by how such awful people are made. What drives someone to commit atrocities? I am keen to see such questions examined in fiction, because I don’t think exploring a character necessarily means excusing their actions, and because it’s interesting (I mean, of course I find her fascinating, I’ve written a novel’s worth of fic about her). However, after a few snarky comments (“What sort of woman raised Father Graves, do you think?”) and some subtler commentary on sexuality, gender and power (her unsettling MacPhail with the key in the bra in S1E2), S2E5 drew a weird line between sexism in Mrs Coulter’s professional and academic life and her vast and senseless institutionalised child murder, and the longer I’ve sat with that the more I’m like: what the fuck?

Look, Mrs Coulter doesn’t tear apart children to search for sin inside them and poison Boreal and break a witch’s fingers because she’s experienced sexism in the workplace and in her education. That’s… a very odd thing to imply. We have to remember that there are lots of women in Lyra’s world, all of whom will also have experienced sexism, misogyny and other forms of marginalisation (many in more expansive and pernicious ways than Mrs Coulter, who’s a woman, yes, but also white, wealthy, highly educated and very thin and beautiful), and none of them are running arctic torture stations. She will have experienced misogyny, absolutely, and that will have affected her in various ways that inform how she approaches her work, but to imply that being denied a doctorate is the reason she became a sadistic killer is frankly bizarre. Here are a few of the lines from that episode with my commentary:

“Do you know who I could have been in this world?” What does this mean? If she’d been roughly the same person in our world, the answer is: Margaret Thatcher, which is probably a step down for Marisa, all things considered, because the Magisterium is far more autocratic than any recent Tory government and would be a much easier institutional environment in which to enact her cruelty. What we’re supposed to think, clearly, is that she’d have been a different person: a scientist and a mother, and she’s had this realisation because she saw a woman with a baby and a laptop and had a three-minute conversation with Mary. This doesn’t make sense. We live in our world! It’s less repressive than Lyra’s world but it’s hardly a gender utopia. If Mrs Coulter had chosen the scientist-and-mother life (which, as I’ll revisit later, she could have done in her world but chose not to because of her megalomaniac tendencies), she’d still have been affected by misogyny here too. Our world is not kind to young mothers, nor young women embroiled in scandals, nor is the world teeming with female physicists. It might be a little better, sure, but it’s hardly as if those gendered challenges would have been solved.  

“What do you mean she runs a department?” This is just the show forgetting its own canon. Marisa, you ran a massive government organisation (the GOB), including a huge murder science research initiative in the Arctic. That’s a much bigger undertaking and much more impressive than running a university department in our world. Pull yourself together.

“But because I was a woman, I was denied a doctorate by the Magisterium.” This is the show flagrantly ignoring the source material to make a clumsy political point. In the books, there are women with doctorates (notably Hannah Relf, also a major player in the new Book of Dust trilogy) and at least one women’s college full of female scholars. Now, would that women’s college likely be underfunded and disrespected compared to the men’s colleges? Almost certainly. But saying that is different than saying “I couldn’t get my doctorate!” when women in Lyra’s world can. The show knew what point they wanted to make, and were willing to ignore canon to do so, which is frustrating. Also, given that there are female academics and scientists in Lyra’s world, and that Mrs Coulter is a member of St Sophia’s college, it’s clear that she could have lived that life if she so desired. But she didn’t want that, because being a scientist and academic at St Sophia’s imbues her with no real power, and that’s what she craves.

I’m not opposed, in theory, to exploring Mrs Coulter and misogyny in more depth, but I think doing so through an examination of the sexual politics of her life would have made a lot more narrative sense and been much more powerful. It’s better evidenced in the text – her using her sexuality to manipulate people and taking lovers for political sway is entirely canon, as is her backstory where genuine love and lust blew up her life – and it links much more closely with the most shocking of her villainy, which involves cutting out children’s dæmons to stop them developing “troublesome thoughts and feelings,” referencing sexual and romantic desire (and what Lyra and Will do to save Dust is clearly a big ‘fuck you’ to those aims). She even says this to MacPhail in TAS, “If you thought for one moment that I would release my daughter into the care - the care! - of a body of men with a feverish obsession with sexuality, men with dirty fingernails, reeking of ancient sweat, men whose furtive imaginations would crawl over her body like cockroaches - if you thought I would expose my child to that, my Lord President, you are more stupid than you take me for.” Don’t get me wrong, she’d have been a villain regardless, but I do believe that there’s a much stronger link between her sexual and romantic experiences and her murder work than between professional and academic stifling and child murder. It would have been a lot more interesting and a lot less tenuous.

However, the show is trying to be family-friendly, and digging into why this terrible, cruel woman might want to cut the ability for desire and love (and other non-sexual adult feelings, I’m sure) out of people could get dark. We know that the show doesn’t want to go there, because they’ve actively toned down her weaponising her sexuality: in the books, she has an established sexual relationship with Boreal, whereas the show made it seem like she’s been stringing him along all this time, and made it about potentially ‘sharing a life’ together rather than fucking, which was clearly the arrangement in the books. Also, I think Ruth Wilson said she and Ariyon Bakare filmed a “steamy scene” together, and given that only a single chaste kiss between them aired it must have been cut. I think they deliberately minimised the sexual elements of the text, particularly regarding Mrs Coulter (the mountain scene with Asriel, which I did still love, was also a lot less horny than in the book) and replaced that with another gender issue, that of professional sexism, as if the two are interchangeable, which they are not. This is a shame, both for Mrs Coulter’s character and also for the story as a whole, because the characters’ relationships with sex and desire are an important part of the books! (If this minimised sexuality approach means that they don’t use the TAS scene where Asriel threatens to gag her and she tries to goad him into doing it, I’ll scream). Overall, I think they missed the mark here, which is a shame because I also think it could have been done well, if they’d been bolder and darker and more thoughtful.

Why might this happen? Why might the show take this approach? Why might it be latched onto by viewers? Personally, I think the conversations we have about women and power are very simplistic, which leaves us in a tight spot when we see women seizing power for themselves (even in fiction) and weaponising that against others, not just other women but people of all genders, because we struggle to move past ‘women have overall been denied power, so them taking it ‘back’ is good,’ even if that immediately becomes a hot mess of white, corporate feminism and results in the ongoing oppression of many people. I think we are so hungry for representations of powerful women that we – producers and viewers alike – struggle to see them as bad, because it’s uncomfortable to be so intoxicated by Mrs Coulter effortlessly dominating the men around her, subverting systems designed to marginalise her for her own benefit, and generally being aggressive and intelligent and ruthless, and then realise that you are entranced by someone who is, objectively, a terrible, terrible person. It can be hard to realise that if you channelled the energy of someone who mesmerises you, you’d be the villain. So instead of sitting with that (more on this below), a lot of legwork goes into reworking her villainy into, somehow, a just act, a result of oppression, as her taking back power that has been denied to her, rather than grappling with the fact that for anyone to desire power in such a merciless way, even if they have to overcome marginalisation to get it, is really, really dangerous.

The joy, of course, is that Mrs Coulter is not real! She’s not real! Adoring fictional characters does not mean condoning their (imaginary) decisions, nor do stories exist for each person in them to fit neatly into a good or bad box so you know who you’re allowed to love. Furthermore, fiction can be a fabulous tool for exploring and interrogating the parts of yourself that, if left to bloom unexamined, might perpetuate beliefs or behaviour that cause harm to others. Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be a feminist or taking down the patriarchy or a righteous powerful woman to illuminate things about gender, power and feminism for those reading and watching. In fact, it’s important that we explore what happens when women (most commonly white, wealthy women, as she is) continue to perpetuate brutal systems under the guise of sticking it to ‘men,’ because it happens all the time in the real world, and it’s a serious issue. Finding characters like Mrs Coulter so cool and compelling doesn’t make you a bad person, but it might tell you something about yourself – not that you want to be a villain or kill kids or whatever, but something about how you relate to your gender or women or men or power – and that knowledge can be useful! We all have better and worse impulses, and finding art that helps us make sense of ourselves, both the good and bad parts, is a gift that we should relish.

Anyway, tl;dr, Mrs Coulter doesn’t need to be sympathetic or understandable or redeemable to be brilliant – but you wouldn’t know that from how she’s been portrayed in the new adaptation.

[thewhizzyhead]

a non-filipino's guide to trese: ep 1

So some of my mutuals decided to check out Trese aka the Netflix adaptation of the Filipino horror comic book series that I keep rambling about here and then since well um most of my mutuals aren’t from the Philippines fshfs I decided to make a long-ass post that basically consists of me rambling about the cultural context present in Trese with fun little tidbits about Filipino folklore. I’m not an expert on Filipino mythology so um I just typed out the stuff that I know and the stuff that I looked up on Wikipedia so um take this with a grain of salt aaaaa I’ll save the extensive google scholar research ramble on folklore present in Trese for another day.

I’ll try to find the sites where I got some of the information from cause um yea I kinda had a bit of a hard time finding the other shit so um once again, take the stuff here with a grain of salt. Also, feel free to add more info if you guys got any!

SO ANYWAYS ENJOY ME RAMBLING ABOUT EPISODE 1 OF TRESE WOO

+ MRT and LRT (Manila Metro Rail Transit and Light Rail Transit) are train systems in NCR (the capital region) and yea them suddenly stopping and malfunctioning in the middle of the goddamn rail is a daily occurrence and we have been trying to deal with this bullshit for years but alas, corruption and negligence are sweet sweet drugs.

+ When the MRT broke down, you'd see a red bee in the flashing billboard right? Well that's Jollibee and that's probably the most well-known fast food restaurant chain here heck there are even branches of it abroad!

+ According to many youtube comments along with other social media posts that I am way too tired to link here, the opening theme is an Ifugao ethnic song called Balluha'd Bayyauhen but with modern accompaniments and I think the song is about a fruit called a balluha that the character in the song tries to it but cannot swallow. (someone please correct me if I’m wrong here fjkfs)

+ The first um monster that we see Alexandra interact with is the White Lady of Balete Drive. White Ladies or “Kaperosa” are a type of female ghosts typically dressed in ghostly white dresses or similar garments. According to legend, she died in a car accident while driving along Balete Drive (a two lane street formerly lined with Balete Trees which are said to be a home for spirits and mysterious creatures) in Quezon City while other accounts say she died waiting for the arrival of her lover; others also say that she was a teenage girl who was run over and killed by a taxi driver at night and then buried around a Balete tree while another variation of the tale claims that a student from the University of the Philippines was sexually assaulted and killed by a taxi driver nearby and so said ghost haunts the street in search of her murderer. There are many other variations but according to local rumor, the legend was fabricated by a reporter in 1953 in order to make an interesting story. What remains consistent in many variations is that apparently taxi drivers would be stopped by a beautiful lady asking for a ride and if one would look at the rear window, they would see that the white lady in question is bruised and drenched in blood.

+ There are a lot of mentions about "lakans" and stuff in reference to Alex and her father right? In precolonial times, the term is used to refer to the paramount ruler or the highest-ranking political authorities in Tagalog communities (so um NCR and some parts of Region 4). In Muslim communities, they are called sultans while communities with strong trade connecitons with Indonesia or Malaysia called them Rajah. Datu is umm the more generalized term though when it comes to discussing the leaders of the precolonial Filipinos.

+ So, Alex’s mom is a babaylan and back in the pre-colonial period, each barangay (which a native filipino term for a village or a district; said term is still used today to describe um divisions in municipalities like) had them and these are basically Philippine shamans and they specialized in communicating with the spirits of the dead. To my knowledge, the role of babaylan went to women and yea people assigned male at birth but then identified as female were also allowed to become babaylans and they would be treated with the same respect given to any woman back then (honestly I dunno much about lgbtq+ stuff back in the precolonial times but all I know is that precolonial Filipinos were much a lot more welcoming towards trans identities bUT THEN THE SPANIARDS CAME AND UM ERR RUINED THAT); also the writing Alexandra's mom did in that one scene with the dagger is in Baybayin - preHispanic Filipino script. I dunno what she wrote down though. .

+ Also I kinda find it funny that the people here esp those who were at the White Lady scene are um,,, not at all surprised? Like yea quite a number of filipinos have their own superstitions and beliefs and all that but um yea the people in Trese seem very used to the bullshit,,,which in retrospect, isn't at all inaccurate fsdfd I MEAN WE DEAL WITH UNSURMOUNTABLE AMOUNTS OF BS ON A DAILY BASIS SO I DON’T THINK DEAD GHOSTS WOULD EVEN FAZE MANY FSKJDS

+ The one that appears right before Alexandra talks with the duwende (the one in the manhole) is called Laman Lupa (which i guess translates to um "What is in the earth"? just um YEA THEY ARE DIRT CREATURES). normally this is an umbrella term for duwendes and nunos but in Trese they are servants of these aforementioned creatures.

+ Duwende (which came from the Spanish phrase "dueno de case" which means "owner of the house") or dwarves in Filipino folklore are known to be mischievous and magical environmental guardians. They are believed to reside in trees or under earth mounds (those that live in the latter are called nuno sa pundo or old man of the mount) which is why quite a lot of Filipinos say "tabi tabi po" or “excuse me” when wandering around a forest or earth mounds as a sign of respect and in the hopes the duwende won't torment them. If the person is friendly, the duwende can also be friendly in return and will bring that person good lucl; otherwise, those who destroy their homes by stepping on them will face their wrath in form of heartless curse and predictions of ominous and disastrous fates. A duwende's color also depends on their budhi or conscience: to my knowledge, white duwendes are kind, red ones give protection amulets, green ones are firnedly with children and the black ones give nothing but trouble.

+ Chocnut aka the snack Alex bribes the nuno with is a very yummy chocolate snack made of coconut milk, crushed peanuts and cocoa powder. They are umm about an inch in length and maybe half an inch in width so it's fairly small; that being said I WANT THE CHOCNUT THAT ALEXANDRA HAS CAUSE HOT DAMN THAT'S A BIG CHOCNUT

+ In Trese, the creatures in the MRT scene and in the warehouse Alexandra visits after she talks with the duwende are called "aswang". In Philippine folklore, it is an umbrella term for any kind of monster so um an aswang in Luzon would be very different from the aswang in Mindanao. According to what I saw on wikipedia, they can be classified in 5 categories: the vampire (self-explanatory um they drink blood), the viscera sucker (the manananggal, i'll get to that next time), the weredog (cats and pigs are also possible but um yea they target pregnant women), the witch (self-explanatory boom curses and stuff) and the ghoul (they gather near trees in cemeteries to feast on human corpses). Aswangs are often described to have a long, hollow tongue, sharp claws and sharp teeth, although they do also have human forms.

+ To my knowledge, Ibwa, the leader of the aswangs in the warehouse, is a creature from Tinguian or Itneg mythology (they, like the Ifugao, are an indigenous ethnic group in northwestern Luzon) though I could be wrong about this dksfsf Ibwa seems like an ethnic filipino term tho wah I can't remember where I once read that. But anyways, Ibwa often stalk sthe house of a dying person to steal its body. In order for the ibwa to NOT succeed in that, some people burn holes in the garments of the dead and put a sharp iron object on top of the grave since those are most powerful weapons against aswangs which is what Alexandra uses to subdue the Ibwa and kill all the other aswangs (the knife alex uses is named Sinag which means "ray of light".)

+ ALSO I AM SO SO GLAD THEY KEPT THE FILIPINO SWEARS IN THE ENGLISH DUB YES YES THIS IS A VERY GOOD JOB so lemme discuss the versatility of tangina-

+ Also umm Bossing is a nickname of Vic Sotto - one of the three pioneer hosts of Eat Bulaga! which is the longest running Philippine noontime variety show. Over time, most probably due to the show's popularity, the term "bossing" then became um slang for "boss" or "chief"

+ Translation of what Alex says when she's stirring the eye inside the cup: “In the eyes of others, secrets will reveal themselves.”

+ Sidenote: The English dub's pronunciation of many of the tagalog lines are um yea they r pretty good but they could use a bit of work but then again I'm really not that good in speaking in Tagalog so who am I to judge gkdkf sorry po guys conyo po ako-

+ Maria Makiling is arguably the most famous of all the diwatas (ancestral spirits, nature spirits, or deities) in Philippine Mythology; she is associated with Mount Makiling in Laguna as the guardian spirit of the mountain. Mount Makiling is said to resemble a profile of a woman and people associate the profile with Maria herself. She is also known as a goddess by the name of Dayang Masalanta and people would pray to her for safety and to stop storms and earthquakes. That's the goddess Alexandra's mother mentions right when she tells Alex to hide. (Translation to what she said there: Maria Makiling, goddess of the mountain, bless us.)

+ ALSO YEA THAT MAYOR IN THE MRT STATION IS UMMM RATHER REMINISCENT OF MAAAANY POLITICIANS AND PUBLIC SERVANTS HERE LIKE BELIEVE ME I CAN THINK OF SO MANY NAMES RN. THEY WOULD FLAUNT THEIR MACHISMO AND PROMISE THAT THEY THEMSELVES SHALL PUNISH THE PERPETRATORS HARSHLY BUT IN THE END THEY DONT MEAN SHIT AND ARE IN OFFICE TO SERVE ONLY THEMSELVES AND TO SHIT ON THE REST ESP THOSE OF THE POORER SECTORS AND *NOTHING IS DONE ABOUT IT*. WE LIVE IN HELL OKAY. also hmm how the police are represented here is umm,,,interesting,,, like i know there are sOME good police officers like the ones alexandra assists but like,,,our current sociopolitical climate + the many cases showcasing the corruption in the police force + tHE SHEER AMOUNT OF POLICE BRUTALITY HERE would ummm beg to differ. but um anyways-

+ Also Mang Inasal posters can be seen in the MRT station backdrops and um it’s a very famous restaurant chain here and they serve lots of barbecue and other filipino stuffs and i miss them a lot God their halo halo is very yummy

+ Santelmo - oki so this is the fire face thingy that Alexandra summons inside the ruined train. This is the shortened version of the term "Apoy ni Santa Elmo" or "St. Elmo's Fire" - this is a weather phenomenon wherein plasma is created from an electrical discharge from a rod like object in an atmospheric electric field. This phenomenon was used to warn of imminent lightning strikes or storms (there is a chapter in Noli Me Tangere where Pilosopo Tasyo talks about that bUT I'LL SAVE THE NOLI ME TANGERE RAMBLES FOR ANOTHER DAY). But according to Philippine folklore, santelmos - which are said to be souls of people lost as sea - are balls of fire that appear where accidents or big arguments happen. In Trese, santelmos (alex's santelmo being "The Great Spirit of the Binondo Fire") can be called to assist in supernatural investigations

+ Translation of what Alex says when she draws the circles to meet with the purple ghosts: "Souls, where are you off to? I'll be entering too, so please open the door."

+ Remember the scene at the train with all the purple ghosts and the woman in a veil? Yea the woman is an emissary of a goddess named Ibu and she is the Manobo (again, another indigenous ethnic group but this time they're from Mindanao; fun fact we have around 134 ethnic groups) goddess of deceased mortals and the queen of the underworld; she also serves as a psychopomp and guides the newly deceased souls to the other side (having an MRT be the ride to the underworld isn’t in the legends tho so fkkjsf)

+ The aswang in the top hat is called Xa Mul and according to the Isneg/Apayao people (yay another ethnic group but this time in northern Luzon - the Cordillera regions to be specific), they are an evil spirit known to swallow people whole.

+ Alex has two henchmen right? Yea they are named Crispin and Basillio and No I still don’t know who’s who and I'm really sorry about that fsfjs so anyways the names Crispin and Basillio are actually those of two brothers featured in the Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo novels (Crispin is younger and Basilio is older) which are basically the national novels here cause um yea written by national hero Jose Rizal as sociopolitical commentary about the Spanish regime here. I don't know if I want to spoil this cause I kinda want other people to read the novel too fskfs BUT ALL IN ALL, ONE OF THEM DIES IN LIKE THE 10TH OR 11TH CHAPTER OF NOLI ME TANGERE (and the novel has 64 chapters btw) AND UM YEA-

+ OKI SO TO ADD MORE CONTEXT TO THE SQUATTER STUFFS MENTIONED IN TRESE (we r gonna use the tiny font here because holy shit this rant is long): So,in the Philippines, especially in the capital region, there are lots of slum areas called squatters. These are dense urban settlements made of compact makeshift housing units that aren't really officially recognized by the government. This is um very reflective of the poverty situation here and there are maaany factors that come into play here and if i were to go into depth about this topic, that rant would probably turn into an academic paper so for the sake of brevity, let's just say that Things Are Fucked Up Here. Oftentimes the poorer sectors are being ignored and left to their own devices despite tons of campaign promises to make things better and easier for them. The communities that live here are incredibly vulnerable to floods, fires, and the like and afaik no concrete solutions have been in effect to protect these people and their settlements. There have also been many times where squatter areas are dismantled or demolished despite protests of people living in those areas and yea I understand the need to make space and the need for renovation but the people should still be offered some sort of temporary settlement or financial compensation thingy that doESN'T fuck them over but alas, we have an anti-poor government. That being said, I really like Trese Ep 1's portrayal of governmental negligence, but I also have some thoughts, especially in regards to the mayor being arrested THAT FAST which um believe me, NEVER FUCKING HAPPENS BECAUSE MANY MAYORS AND A LOT OF POLITICIANS HAVE THE POLICE IN THEIR POCKETS SO UM ERR YEA JUSTICE IS RARELY A THING HERE BUT UM ANYWAYS YEA THE GOVERNMENT LIKES TO SHIT ON THE POOR WOO LET'S SAVE THE USE OF SOCIOLOGICAL LENS ON THIS MATTER FOR ANOTHER DAY

+ The news channel reporting the arrest of the mayor is ABC-ZNN WHICH IS AN OBVIOUS REFERENCE TO ABSCBN aka the top media conglomerate here (that has been fucked over by the government so many times to the point that they had to shut down operations last year which is all sorts of unfair so seeing them being referenced here kinda made me happy gksfks)

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things- Repeating History

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and alcohol. Canon typical violence.

A/N: this takes place during season 3 episode 11, birthright. i had a lot of fun studying this episode and making it my own. i have changed certain dialogue and who says what for the sake of the story. please enjoy!

The Purest Things Masterlist

(my gif! please credit if you use.)

january 2008

Syd Moore said, “Disregard for the past will never do us any good. Without it we cannot know truly who we are.”

+++++

Your alarm is often hushed before it even has an opportunity to set off nowadays because you usually wake up before it even has the chance.

4:25 A.M.

You groan and toss your pillow over your face. Maybe, just maybe, you can will yourself to sleep for a little longer. As if someone heard your pleas for slumber, your phone starts buzzing on your bedside table. Of course, it is unnecessary for you even to read the messages. There is a case.

+++++

"Last night in Fredericksburg, a 20-year-old woman, Molly McCarthy, was abducted," J.J. begins, "She's the third to go missing in the last 6 weeks. All disappeared from public places. No one's seen them since until now. A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park that was once the site of the battle of Chancellorsville."

"Were they able to make an I.D.?" you and Hotch ask simultaneously. Your eyes meet, but he breaks the contact abruptly. Flustered and insecure, you bury your focus deep into the file in front of you. The group discusses the case for a couple of minutes, but you are so concentrated on the papers that you hardly absorb any information they've shared.

There is something familiar about this case to you. Suddenly, realization strikes.

Rejoining the discussions, you say, "I remember reading about a case like this in Spotsylvania county. Similar markings on the bone. It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg. There were 5 women aged 16 to 24. They were buried in pieces."

"Same markings. Same civil war battlefield," J.J. responds in agreement.

The team agrees that this could be the works of the same killer. There are aspects of the more recent killings that would be impossible to copycat since those details had never been released to the public. But, if this is the same unsub, what's he been doing for the past 27 years?

+++++

Hotch focuses on the road while you watch out the window of the passenger seat. Occasionally, you sneak the odd peek at him. His stoicism is alluring, and you find yourself drawn to this demeanor like a moth to a flame. Piecing together the tiny glimpses you've collected thus far as if working on a mental puzzle, you scrutinize his attributes. His eyes bare the beginnings of crow's feet. Only his sideburns tease the speckling of salt and pepper undertones. His lips turn downwards at the corners, no doubt from years of scowling at unsubs.

Reid speaks up from behind you both and breaks your train of thought. Probably for the better, there's no reason why you should examine your unit chief so intently.

"It's funny--he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk."

"It's a respected landmark. He's flaunting," Aaron reckons.

"It makes him feel important," you say in agreement.  

Once you have arrived at the crime scene, you follow Agent Hotchner closely. Reid trails ahead, most likely trying to keep up with his own train of thought.

"How does someone not see or hear them?" You ask the sheriff.

He turns to you with a defeated expression, "It was dark. He had the advantage. Molly's boyfriend was the last person to see her. He said she was alone for a minute, maybe less."

Hotch surveys the surroundings, "He's patient and works fast."

"He's perfected his M.O.," Reid states while looking around.

You cross your arms as a wave of unease gets the best of you as you envision the moments leading to Molly's attack.

"If our unsub's pushing 60, he's gotta be strong enough to carry her a long way without her struggling," you bring out.

Hotch looks to you with a concerned squint. You shake your head, signaling to him that it's nothing you can't get under control. He nods in response. The sheriff agrees to point out the various entrances to the park.

"I'll catch up with you," your Unit Chief states. He motions for you to step aside with him, and you comply.

"You know, ever since my wife and I had our son, I dread receiving cases involving children," he discloses to you.

Tears well up in your eyes, "I can't even imagine, but sir, why are you telling me this?"

"This job will inevitably strike close to home on some cases more than others. It's okay for you to feel overwhelmed by it all every once and a while," he assures you.

"You never lose it, though."

He sighs heavily, "Maybe I should have."

Shortly before you joined the BAU, Hotch's wife Haley left with their son Jack. You never ask questions or stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It isn't your place, and you can't blame him for not wanting to bring his family struggles to work. He deals with enough broken families on the job as it is. Mixing his own personal life into the field would only make it more challenging to prioritize. Despite all this, you cannot help but wonder what exactly led to his and his wife's separation. You hope that they can find their way back to each other. The crimes you investigate do not need to claim the Hotchner's as victims as well.

+++++

"I'll let you talk to Chrissy Wilkenson," Hotch directs you towards the kitchen. You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants and make your way into the kitchen, Hotch following closely behind you.

"Mrs. Wilkenson," you say gently, "My name is Y/F/N. I have just a few questions about your husband. Where does Charlie usually go when he's stressed?"

"The barn," she stutters. You can tell she's anxious and afraid for the well-being of her family.

"Anywhere else, Chrissy?"

Hotch is called into the other room, and you continue questioning Chrissy. She's becoming overwhelmed, so you guide her to the dining room.

"I know this is difficult, Chrissy."

"Did the father of my child really do that to those poor women?" She cradles her baby bump.

Your heart breaks for her, and you choose to remain silent. Sometimes saying nothing speaks louder than words.

Footsteps bound throughout the house, and Hotch appears in the doorway, "The sheriff will stay here with Mrs. Wilkenson. We need you with us."

Standing up from your chair, you place your hand atop Chrissy's, "History doesn't have to repeat itself." It is almost as if she could tell you were reading her thoughts. The endless whispers that cloud her mind making her feel like she's left with only one choice, but there's always another option. That is all you are trying to remind her of.

+++++

As you and your team trek through the forest, you see a clearing.

"Hotch, this way," you beckon him to pursue your course.

Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, and you stop in your tracks. You make eye contact with Hotch and mirror each other's actions, dashing towards the opening in the trees. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your footsteps colliding against the ground. It is clear to you from your exchange with Chrissy at the house that the origin of the gunshot will shock everyone but yourself. As you reach the clearing and rush down the hill, your speculation is validated.

Chrissy Wilkenson is standing over the body of her husband, the unsub. A traumatized young man haunted by his father's past and plagued by the idea that children are trapped in the endless cycles created by their parents.

I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Jesus. Now is not the time for that.

The newly widowed woman claims self-defense, yet the cops handcuff her anyways. Inside, you feel conflicted while watching her get into the back of the squad car.

Hotch appears by your side but remains silent. Again, sometimes silence speaks louder than words. You bit your lip, attempting to hide the fact that it is trembling.

"What did you say to her as you were leaving the dining room?"

"I told her that history does not have to repeat itself. I wanted her to know that even when it feels like you are backed into a corner, there is always another way out. Sometimes people don't know where to look for their out thought," you quiver.

He lightly touches your arm and gives you a reassuring tilt of the head, "Just know that you did everything you could. We will never do this job perfectly. Doing the right thing usually costs more than it pays. You did your part.  I'm not a saint, and I am far from a hero, but I have integrity and honor, and I do this job to the best of my ability."

"If you can leave a case with a clear conscience," he continues, "you know you did the best you could. Any other thought process will eat away at you slowly but surely, and ultimately, it will result in the demise of your career and destruction of yourself."

+++++

After a seemingly neverending day, you all arrive back at Quantico.

"I could really go for a drink, guys. What do you say? Newbie's buying," you wave your wallet around frivolously.

"I could go for 5 drinks!" Prentiss exclaims.

"Count me in," Morgan winks at you. He never fails to make you blush.

Reid hesitates and you pout your bottom lip, "Please Reid! How could you not want a repeat of Dolly Parton night last month?"

Hotch comes down the stairs, "Dolly Parton night? Do I want to know?"

You and Derek snicker to each other as Spencer attempts to diffuse his own embarassment.

"9 to 5 is an iconic female anthem that certainly has a rather bewitching affect on a man when mixed with alcohol."

"You only drank Diet Coke that night," you roll your eyes at him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Hotch forcing his way through the small group formed around the desks.

Making your way over to him, you invite him to join, "Want a beer?" You second guess yourself, but it seems as though his rather stern expression softens ever so slightly when he pivots on his heels to look at you.

"I would like that," he answers softly.

He immediately returns to his original path and hovers near the glass doors. You casually make your way over to him, joined by Dave and Emily. A man barges in through the glass doors announcing Aaron's name.

"Agent Hotchner?"

"Yes," the subject in question breaths out almost defeatedly.  

The yellow package he holds in his hands is all too familiar and instantly churns your stomach into knots. You gnaw at your bottom lip, drawing a metallic taste that causes you to cringe.

"What is it?" Emily speaks up.

There's no question as to what it is. Oh Hotch. I’m so sorry.

Hotch's eyes trace the package from corner to corner in disbelief, "Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served."

When he eventually takes his eyes off of the lettering, his eyes meet yours. They lock onto you and it is in that moment that you feel as though you have been given the key to unlock his soul. His eyes are so unusual at this moment; they are more vulnerable than you have ever seen. The stoic man is gone, and instead, it is the eyes of one who is in tremendous pain. You had mistaken his bloodshot eyes for physical fatigue on the plane, but now you see that it is emotional exhaustion as well.

If only you knew how badly I want to hug you and tell you that you won't be swallowed up by this darkness. There's a long road ahead, but you have so many people here who love you and are here to support you through this. You aren't alone. Trust me, I know.

In some way, you pray that he can read into your soul and see the pain you feel for him. Once more, your shared silence proves to speak for itself.  

At last, he breaks eye contact with you and finally releases the breath that you had been holding in. Dave grabs onto your arm, seeing the clear impact Hotch's news has on you, no doubt having also noticed Hotch's immediate response in looking at you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can join you tonight," he excuses himself and escapes to the seclusion of his office.

Maybe history does have a way of repeating itself.

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[ficsilike-reblogged]

Death & Dowries

Summary: The Iron Bank of Braavos will always have its due. But dowries make things…complicated and the pride of men knows no bounds. A bargain is struck between a Keyholder of the Iron Bank and Tywin Lannister and the life of an adventurous woman is suddenly uprooted as she is made the newest Lady of Casterly Rock. But the wedding of King Joffrey Baratheon and Lady Margaery Tyrell brings a familiar face to King’s Landing and a Braavosi woman always has a backup plan.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand/F!Reader, (arranged) Tywin Lannister/F!Reader, Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand

WARNINGS: Spousal abuse, death, murder, lite smut, my over-use of italics, mentions of child birth and babies (please DO NOT read if any of this will upset you)

Word Count: 12.1k (heavy sigh)

(banner by my love @starlight-starwrites​ )

A/N: The italics denote the “present” time. Circa Season 7 Episode 7. I’m going to throw a lot of ASOIAF lore at you so, if you have ANY questions, please just ask! 

You can read this on Ao3, if you prefer!

She had hoped to never step foot into this wretched city again. But Cersei had called and she knew she must answer to keep the unstable queen from looking too closely. And, of course, she wanted to see a dragon.

What she did not expect to see was a familiar shade of yellow and orange while a recognizable laugh rang in the tense air. She froze at the entrance and her handmaiden smacked into her back. “I am so sorry, my lady,” she whispered.

The sudden noise drew attention and soon Oberyn and Ellaria were standing from their seats, kind eyes locked on her.

**

Westeros was nothing that her father had promised when he set her on the ship and sent her away from home. It was supposed to be exciting and new and beautiful and everything she wanted in a home. Instead, she had been gifted a cold castle filled with portraits of a woman who she was supposed to be replacing and an old man for a betrothed.

But even the Keyholders of the Iron Bank of Braavos knew of Tywin Lannister. "He is a powerful man. You will be well-cared for and loved by the people you govern, my sweet," her father said, his smile not quite touching his eyes. "That is all I want for you."

It was a lie. A pretty lie, but a lie all the same. Her father and a handful of other Keyholders all had daughters of the marrying age and had created a terrible, unspoken game between them. Everything had a price. Especially to the men and women who controlled the keys to the Iron Bank.

Dowries for their daughters were boasted and bartered. Whomever paid the most, bragged that their line was as coveted as a princess.

It was all ridiculous. A stupid game. Especially for people who usually wanted to protect their coin.

Y/N was thankful she had no sisters so that they would not be subjected to this prick-measuring game, too.

Whispers had spread through Braavos when her father had set her betrothal.

It was a dowry worthy of four princesses of old, surely.

But Tywin Lannister would not see a single coin.

An almost flawless plan, Y/N thought. Her father would pay half of the Iron Throne's debts to the Bank in exchange for Y/N becoming the new Lady of Casterly Rock. For as large as her dowry was, Y/N was only slightly amused at how small her wedding festivities were when she arrived at King’s Landing. A handful of people, mostly Lannisters and their bannermen, and the three handmaidens she had brought with her from Braavos. The furnishings were fine and the food was almost salted correctly but it was small. Tywin wrapped her in a crimson red cloak and kissed her with unmoving lips and she had become Lady Y/N Lannister, a lion of the rock.

And that was it. Little fanfare and her life was completely uprooted. And as the days continued to pass, she doubted she would ever find a bit of happiness in her new station.

She had to keep herself from yawning as Tywin rutted above her, grunting like an old boar. But he finished soon enough and rolled off of her and grabbed his robe. As soon as it was fastened around his waist, he strode out of her chambers without a look back.

The door opened soon after and her small horde of handmaidens quickly entered, already bringing her a steaming pot of tea and a balm for her skin where her lord husband always clutched too tight.

She had given up on telling him it hurt after the first fortnight and considered herself at least a little lucky that the old man still knew how to move his hips.

“How do you fare, my lady?” One handmaiden asked in the lilting tongue of the Braavosi dialect of High Valyrian. She quickly pressed a cup of tea into Y/N’s hands.

“Better, now that you are all here with me.”

One took to changing the bed coverings and another helped her stand and quickly began to wash her skin with steaming water scented with roses. The tea was bitter on her tongue but she quickly drank it and let another handmaiden take the empty cup from her hand as soon as it was finished.

“Have the kitchen maids asked what the tea is again?”

“Not since we told them it was a magical potion to guarantee a boy and that it was filled with the blood of a calf and ash from the Doom.” One of them smiled, remembering how the nosey maids nearly fainted at the sound of their lie. It was an ingenious ruse, if she was being honest. Y/N knew that most of the servants in Casterly Rock reported to Tywin about her movements and the company she kept. Thinking she was a witch who relied on bloodmagic easily discounted anything they whispered to her lord husband. And it also kept them from truly investigating her tea—not that anyone on this stupid continent would be able to name it anyway. The root her handmaids boiled for her every time Tywin visited her chamber was not anything magical or arcane.

It was an old recipe from the famed pleasure houses of Braavos—to prevent pregnancy. And it was working remarkably well. The maester had confirmed her fertility so she knew Tywin was probably doubting his own ability as the months continued to trickle by and she was yet to become pregnant. The thought made her laugh. As did the truth that Tywin would never get he had anticipated with the betrothal agreement he had signed with her father. She had decided that as soon as he had sneered at her on their wedding night and said, “I suppose you will do,” before taking what he needed from her body without care for her at all. And whenever he visited her bed, his hands were always too tight, too rough and would not relent even when tears pricked at her eyes and slid down her cheeks. He never stopped. He never cared. Even when his dislike of her as a person evolved to curling his hands into her arms and leaving her with swollen eyes and tender skin. He always made sure they were alone when he raised his hands to her, but he seemed fond of doing so whenever she ever disagreed with him.

She knew that other Keyholders thought her father foolish for her hefty dowry—a steep price to pay for pride. But her mother once said that while blood will open the door, clout will get you a seat at the table.

Her father had the gold to spare, she supposed. And she always wanted a kingdom of her own.

Now…now one was finally within her grasp. Even if it came with such a poor consort. That was what she told herself, anyway.

Just as she was dressed for the day, her chamber door opened again and a servant strode in, eyes darting around the gaggle of women as if searching for something to report. His mouth opened and he informed them all that Lord Tywin had been called to the Riverlands and left her in charge of Casterly Rock. She had heard whispers of the War of the Five Kings from high and lowborn alike. It was a shame that she was kept so far from the action she was so accustomed to at least witnessing with a spyglass from her chamber windows. The Keyholders often had a stake in the wars fought around Westeros and Essos. Having allies in positions of power meant they were in positions of power—and funding their successes meant that they had bargaining chips in collecting debts. Plus interest.

She almost smiled. Finally, a bit of intrigue.

**

Y/N took her seat under the canopy after dismissing her handmaidens and guards, telling them to treat themselves to a well-earned drink at a nearby inn as she noticed the incoming crowd of Dothraki, ‘escorted’ by a band of knights. She only let her eyes move to see Oberyn and Ellaria, the Dornish envoy, for a moment. Their reaction to her arrival had been just as unexpected as their presence. Dangerous. Dangerous.

This whole game was dangerous. And now the King in the North and the Dragon Queen had called for a temporary armistice for some strange reason.

“They tell me that the Westerlands have been flourishing.”

The voice at her side almost had her jumping. It was Tyrion, looking far more bristled than the last time she had seen him, when he had been carted away to the Black Cells. “Yes, well. Apparently I’m quite suited for the task.”

Tyrion’s answering smile was small and he nodded just once. “Yes, I suppose my father would have taught you well-”

“He had nothing to do with it.”

**

Casterly Rock was a delight to have to herself. Even the servants who would whisper her movements into her lord husband’s ear seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when each raven stated Tywin would be away from his seat of power for another fortnight and then another and another. When the Westerlands were being raided by Northmen, led by the adorably pugnacious King Robb Stark, she was happy to open the gates to allow some of the children and ladies of sworn houses to take shelter in the fortress and to give food and water to the knights and bannermen who made camp outside their walls before setting off toward battle.

She arranged marriages between houses and presided over small disagreements brought before her to settle. It reminded her of the time she spent with her dearest friend Bellegere at her famed pleasure house in Braavos and how Bellegere managed each and every bit of everything under her roof and made it all seem so effortless.

That was her kingdom.

And now Casterly Rock was Y/N’s, and she would let no one take it from her.

No one.

“You are happy, my lady,” one of her handmaidens said as they retired for the night. It had been two moons since Tywin had left her to play at war. “I have not seen you this happy since before we left Braavos.”

Y/N hummed and let her wipe the day’s dirt from her skin with a roll of silk dampened with cold cream. “I suppose I should start finding some sort of happiness, no?” She sighed. “Are you happy here?”

Her handmaidens nodded, varying degrees of smiles on their faces. “You know that we had no happiness in Braavos. You have given us hope, just as you have given these strange people hope, too.” They helped her into her sleeping gown and Y/N remembered the places she had plucked her handmaidens from. Cruel noble homes, cruel lowborn homes, temples with dark corners, merchant shops filled with bright tapestries, pleasure houses. Each of them found a new place beside Y/N. And she found friends with them, security and safety.

“We can find a home here,” Y/N whispered to each of them before bidding them goodnight. And she hoped it was true. She needed it to be true.

When the raven came, telling her to come to King’s Landing, she was hesitant to pack her trunks and arrange for the castellan to oversee the governance of Casterly Rock. But she had duties. And, despite knowing she was actively keeping herself from completing one of them, she knew she could not refuse Tywin Lannister. Especially after the Realm (or at least part of it) was hailing him as a hero for breaking the siege on King’s Landing and managing to gain the allegiance of the Reach—such a stupid name for a kingdom—for the Crown. So, she had her trunks packed with her fine gowns and made sure the guests she had allowed to stay in Casterly Rock would be looked after before having the traveling party readied for the trek across the continent. One of the knights, a man who reeked of strongwine and needed to trim his beard, spoke animatedly about the battles Tywin won across the Westerlands and Riverlands on behalf of his grandson, Joffrey. “For the betterment of the Realm,” the knight would finish each story. She doubted it. But she pretended to listen anyway. Y/N truly did not care to listen to the finite details or commit most of them to memory. What she did, however, notice was the distinct smell of piss and soured bread as soon as her wheelhouse and travelling party crested the hill just outside the city gates after several weeks of being confined to the wheelhouse or stuffy inn rooms.

“My lady,” one of her handmaiden’s muttered, “we are going to suffocate.”

Y/N patted her hand with a sigh before spilling a bit of perfume onto each of their kerchiefs to hold under their noses. “Perhaps they will have a garden where we can escape the stench.”

When they arrived at the Red Keep—and such an unimaginative name—she was almost pleased to see that most of the royal family and quite a few courtiers and servants had come to welcome them. Cersei, a face she knew well from the many portraits in the halls of Casterly Rock, only offered a quick sneer and an insincere, “welcome, Lady Lannister, to King’s Landing,” before she quickly left. Joffrey, the brat-boy-king if the whispers were true, looked suspiciously like his mother and also offered a sneer. Tommen was far kinder and offered to show her to her chambers but she declined, knowing that having a prince show her around like a servant would only gain her more ire from the queen dowager.

And then that left…

“Lady Stark,” Y/N said, stepping to the redhead’s side. Yes, she knew of Sansa Stark. The sad little Northern girl who saw her father’s head put on a spike—and apparently one of her brothers was one of the Five Kings running around causing amuck. How fun.

The younger girl curtseyed and murmured a soft hello. “I hope you find the capitol pleasing, my lady.”

She hummed and reached out to take Sansa’s and, wrapping it into the crook of her arm. “I doubt I will. But I shall like it if we were to become friends.”

Sansa’s blue eyes flittered across Y/N’s face and then to the small hoard of handmaidens behind her. “Whatever you wish, my lady.”

Weeks trickled by and Y/N found herself actually enjoying the company of the little wolf pup. She detested the Lannisters and had a quick but sweet wit when she was not in the company of Cersei or Joffrey who seemed to terrify her to no end. Y/N found it funny that Cersei assumed she would report anything and everything Sansa did while in her company. “What would you have her do other than enjoy a bit of tea and some lemon cakes? It is not as if you have given her duties beyond looking pretty.” Her handmaidens even told her that Cersei requested they report back anything they heard Sansa say.

“The poor girl,” they mused. “She is alone here.”

“Yes,” Y/N agreed, “and so are we.” And they were. They were still whispered about by servants and courtiers alike, their movements watched like a mummers’ performance and then hissed into the queen or the new Hand of the King’s ears. The only time they found themselves truly alone was when they were in the company of the Tyrells. Margaery and Olenna were gratuitous social climbers but at least they were smart and she did not feel the need to continue to play the dutiful Lady Lannister in their presence. They had no real love for the Lannisters aside from realizing that the golden lions were the true power in this stupid kingdom and knowing that they needed to at least have a few of them on their side. And Sansa seemed a little relaxed in their presence as well. After her betrothal to Joffrey was broken in favor of Margaery and the Tyrell gold, the young redhead was a tiny bit more…unclenched, especially after being pressed to detail the abuse she survived at the hands of the brat king. Y/N remembered gently wiping the tears away from Sansa’s cheeks after they left the Tyrells. Sansa had recounted her abuse at the hands of Joffrey and his mother. “It is over now, little pup. He shall not harm you again. I promise you that.”

Sansa only nodded and was still very guarded and it was smart to be so but Y/N was happy to see her smile a little more freely.

The smiles stopped when Tywin announced that Sansa was to wed Tyrion.

The girl cried and cried and cried. But only when they were alone and the lemon cakes she’d taken from the kitchen were only crumbs. Shae, Sansa’s handmaiden, always lingered after being dismissed. Y/N was sure she was another spy—but not for Cersei. But it did not matter. What mattered was the crying wolf pup in her arms.

“I can’t do it. I can’t,” Sansa cried, tears wetting Y/N’s dress.

Y/N could only shush her sobs, knowing that Tywin always had his due—well, almost always. “I will make sure you are safe, pup. I promise you that.”

**

Y/N stood, as she was expected to do, when Cersei entered the Dragon Pit and curtseyed as Cersei moved in front of her to take her own seat. The air was tense. Everyone was staring at each other, measuring threats with bated breath.

Y/N had been surprised to see Theon Greyjoy present—after all, it had been a Greyjoy fleet that had destroyed the ship that was carrying little Princess Myrcella back to the Red Keep from Sunspear. It had been a Greyjoy that had given the final push for Cersei to descend into her carefully curated madness. But, then again, Cersei had a Greyjoy of her own, too. Verbal volleys were made and Y/N might have enjoyed listening to the traded barbs but she continued to feel someone’s gaze on the side of her face.

She knew who was looking at her—it did not take any stretch of imagination or serious thought.

She knew.

And a dragon roared overhead.

**

“Take this, pup.” Y/N curled Sansa’s shaking fingers around the small bottle with an even smaller smile.

“What is it?” Sansa was beautiful in her golden wedding dress—beautiful and sad. Handmaidens had just finished twisting her hair into the ridiculous braids Cersei was so fond of and then scattered when Y/N and her flock of Braavosi women arrived. They had taken to dashing away when the Braavosi women arrived after Y/N had all but screamed at them when they would not let Sansa have a moment alone after news of the tactlessly named Red Wedding had reached King’s Landing. Her entire family—gone. Y/N would not see the little pup suffer for another moment.

It had earned her a busted lip and a sore wrist from her dear husband.

“It is a gift.” Y/N patted Sansa’s hand. “One drop will give you a night’s reprieve from your husband. The entire bottle will give your husband…a reprieve of his breath.”

Sansa turned and turned and turned the bottle in her hand. “Poison?”

“Yes, pup. And it is merely a precaution. I would not have you fear for your life in your marital bed.”

“Do you think Tyrion would hurt me?”

“He is the gentlest of his siblings, but it is never unwise to have a dagger up your sleeve.” Y/N stood and took Sansa’s hands in hers after watching her carefully tuck the bottle away into the folds of her dress. “Come, I am allowed to escort you to the Sept.”

**

“We’ve been here for some time,” Cersei said through gritted teeth.

“My apologies.”

Y/N almost snorted at the complete lack of care in the Dragon Queen’s tone as she addressed Cersei for the first time but held a finger under her nose, attempting to hide her smile instead. But Oberyn did openly laugh, only stopping when Ellaria placed a hand on his thigh. When Y/N looked at them, eyes drawn to the pair like a moth to the flame, their smiles grew.

The sound around her died to a low roar. Y/N knew she should be paying attention—the meeting had been called with the premise of saving the Realm—but all she could see was them.

**

“I am not some lowborn trollop, husband. I will not be seen in anything other than the color that denotes my station.” Y/N stared down at the garish red and gold dress that her husband’s servants had placed on the featherbed just a few moments ago.

“Your station is cemented as my wife—Lady Lannister. You will wear your house’s colors and you will never fight me on something so frivolous again.”

“Oh? And what am I allowed to fight you on?” She retorted, feeling her upper lip curl in a sneer. “If not my clothes, what else? You have decided every bit of my life since I have arrived. Am I not allowed one bit of my home?”

Tywin reached out and struck her across the face. Pain bloomed from her eye to her jaw, throbbing in time with her hammering heart. “You would do well to hold your tongue. I have had enough of listening to your ungrateful words. You are the Lady of Casterly Rock—not a sniveling brat. You will wear this gown and I will not hear another word of it. Am I understood?”

Y/N only nodded, hand cradling her cheek and then Tywin swept from the room.

Silence washed over her like a wave in the big room. She stared down at the red dress. Gold lace lined the sleeves and there was even more of the gaudy lace around the neck—it would probably reach just below her chin.

It was a collar. Soft and expensive. But a collar, she realized.

“My lady?” She turned to see one of her handmaidens stepping in, a frazzled look on her face. “Are you ready for us to help you prepare for the wedding?” The girl’s eyes searched her face as if knowing something was wrong. “My lady?” She asked again when Y/N did not answer.

Y/N sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yes. And I believe we are running late.” She removed her dressing gown and let them start to tie her into the hideous gown. It itched. It did not move like the soft silks of Braavos. It was stiff and uncomfortable. It felt like a cage.

Perhaps that is what it was—a cage and a collar.

But she said nothing as she met Tywin outside his chambers and allowed him to grasp her hand and tuck it into the crux of his arm as he escorted her to the Sept. She said nothing as she took her place in the crowd. She said nothing as the stupid vows were exchanged and Joffrey named Margaery as his queen. She said nothing as she was led out to the grounds for the wedding feast. But she plotted. And her cheek throbbed.

She was seated on the raised dais at Tywin’s side but found herself slightly and strangely comforted by the fact that Sansa was within eyesight. When Tywin left her side to speak with someone—and she truly wasn’t listening nor cared who it was—Y/N quickly stood and walked to Sansa’s side, taking Tyrion’s vacated seat.

“How are you, pup?”

Sansa almost smiled. “Alive.”

“And that is half the battle, no?” She reached out and touched the girl’s hands. “Has he been kind?” Her head tilted just so to indicate Tyrion.

Sansa nodded. “I have no use of your gift yet.” They both sighed and looked out over the crowd. “Weddings are supposed to be happy occasions.”

“Yes, I suppose they are. But we have yet to attend one that is capable of making us smile.” She sighed again and looked back at Sansa, eyes catching the pretty, purple necklace around her throat. The jewels glinted…

“Careful with those, my love,” her mother chided as she pulled the little vials from her daughter’s childish fingers.

“What are they, Mama?”

“It was a gift,” Sansa said, providing an answer for the unasked question.

“From whom?”

“Lord Baelish.”

Y/N hummed and twisted one of the jewels between her fingers before letting it drop back against Sansa’s throat.

**

Y/N listened to Jon Snow blather on about saving the Realm, about how an army who doesn’t leave corpses was coming and could not be bargained with. Cersei had a few quips of her own and Y/N pondered if she truly needed to have shut herself into a wheelhouse for weeks to travel here just to listen to Cersei complain and foreign monarchs hardly disguise their contempt. But then Sandor Clegane emerged from the underground tunnel with a large crate on his back and the Dragon Pit grew quiet.

He set it down and…nothing happened, even as he removed the lid.

But then he circled back and kicked it over. With a scream, a creature emerged and ran at Cersei. Bone and dried skin and glowing blue eyes. That was all it was.

That and the terrifying scream.

**

“You look exquisite, child,” Lady Olenna said as she approached Sansa. “The wind has bit at you though.” Olenna glanced at Y/N in acknowledgement, bowing her head just a fraction before focusing on Sansa again, tugging at the ends of her pretty red hair. “I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was to hear about your brother. War is war, but killing a man at a wedding? Horrid. What sort of monster would do such a thing?” An aged finger traced against Sansa’s cheek. “As if men need more reasons to fear marriage.”

Y/N snorted into her chalice of wine and earned a wink from Olenna over Sansa’s head. But it was the next movement that truly caught Y/N’s attention. Olenna fiddled with Sansa’s necklace before inviting her and Tyrion to Highgarden just as the lion in question approached. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it is time to enjoy this food I paid for.”

Y/N pulled Sansa back into conversation as Olenna departed and noted that one of the strange little gems was now missing from the necklace. What was Olenna planning? Whatever it was, it was sure to be more entertaining than the pretention of this wedding feast. She stood and had Sansa do the same. “Come, pup. It is time we acted like Lannisters, no?” She linked their arms together and led them toward the obnoxiously decorated grounds filled with more food and entertainment.

They both found little enjoyment in the contortionists or the musicians who insisted on playing and replaying The Rains of Castamere on a variety of instruments. But the food was mostly seasoned well.

“Tyrion tells me that a Dornish Prince is in attendance. He’s traveled all over Essos, perhaps he has been to Braavos?” Sansa asked as Y/N found her some lemon cakes and they sequestered themselves away in a dark corner while Y/N sipped on a bit of sweet wine.

“Oh? It would be nice to hear of my home from someone who knows it.” She almost smiled. “I must take you across the Narrow Sea, introduce you to my home. And maybe I can know Winterfell, too.”

Sansa’s smile was small but genuine. “I would like that.”

“But tell me, what is this prince’s name? Perhaps I’ve met him when my lord husband was parading around.”

Sansa wiped the crumbs from her face. “Prince Oberyn Martell.”

**

Jon Snow was a bigger idiot than Sansa had ever said he was in her missives. Openly proclaiming that he had sworn the North and bent the knee to the Dragon Queen while trying to broker a tentative agreement with an unstable lion was very, very stupid. He could have, should have lied and just agreed to the terms Cersei had laid out, keeping her in the dark about his true allegiance.

But no.

Apparently he had more Stark in him than sense.

Everyone had separated after Cersei had stormed away and Y/N found herself walking toward one of the few places she hadn’t seen anyone retreat to but then-

“Mama!”

Y/N turned and caught the child that had leapt into the air, knowing his mother would catch him.

A soft murmur of her name had her freezing.

**

He looked so similar. Barely anything had changed since the last time she had seen him, all too briefly nearly a decade ago. The same self-assured gait. The same sparkle in his eyes. The same charming half-smile that had her mirroring the expression without a thought.

“Hello, little Titan.”

And with the next breath she was younger, visiting her friend Bellegere on her mother’s fine barge, evading her duties for the day. “You are not who I was expecting,” came a voice behind her.

Y/N turned and arched a brow at the young man looking in the doorway. “Nor was I expecting you.” He was either lost or an esteemed guest if he had found his way to Bellegere’s private rooms. With his fine clothes and self-assured smile, Y/N wagered he was the latter. “Who are you?”

He introduced himself with a growing smile and kissed her on the back of the hand before turning her hand over and pressing another kiss to her palm. And the first time in months, Y/N giggled.

The prince was eventually greeted by Bellegere’s mother and he was just as flirtatious with her but did not seem too preoccupied with bedding the famous courtesan as many of her other clients had been lately. In between meetings with the captains of the Second Sons mercenary company, Oberyn was found frequently upon the barge—and Y/N always found herself invited, too. Whether it was by Bellegere or Oberyn, they always seemed eager to pull her away from her duties again and again.

Bellegere had been calm, as she always was with her mother’s clients (Bellegere knew she would one day be the Black Pearl of Braavos and took her training very seriously), but Y/N saw how the Dornish prince had her smiling into her hand after whispering something into her ear, a far cry from the demure tilting of her lips her clients usually coaxed from her while buying her attention and company.

Anyone who could make Bellegere, with all her practiced manners and carefully curated gestures, smile like that was truly a force to be reckoned with. But even when he was on Bellegere’s arm, he took care to include Y/N in their conversations, wanting her opinion. “I like the sound of your voice, little Titan.”

And that wretched, silly nickname. While he called Bellegere by her name, or “my Pearl,” he called Y/N his “little Titan,” a play on how Braavos was known for the hulking statue of a titan at its gates. She was not sure if she loved it or loathed it.

“Have you two been introduced?” Sansa’s question pulled Y/N from her reverie.

“Yes,” Oberyn answered for her with a wink. “We met years ago in Braavos.” It was an understatement. Every time the Second Sons were within a handful of leagues of Braavos, Oberyn made it a point to visit Y/N and Bellegere. There was nothing overtly carnal within their relationship. In fact, they all seemed to be closer friends than anything else. Bellegere was free to be herself in his presence and Y/N was, too. Oberyn was always happy to be their escort around the city and pay for their attentions as if he were any other client, but largely they spent their time laughing and speaking of the world beyond Braavos. He disappeared a few years later only to return to Braavos, older and angrier, to meet with Illyrio Mopatis on business he could not discuss with them. But he had been just as kind with them as he always had been—always a dutiful friend. The last time she had seen him, he had whispered about the death of his sister and her babies, of how she was cruelly killed while trying to protect her children.

It would not be until Y/N reached King’s Landing that she learned that it was believed that Tywin gave the order for his loyal dog, Gregor Clegane, to kill the Princess and her babes.

If Y/N had known that, she would have taken Bellegere’s offer of working on her barge instead of allowing her father to barter her away to Tywin. She never would have betrayed Oberyn like that if she had known. Truly.

But it was too late.

Y/N noticed the beautiful woman at Oberyn side. Surely there were songs sung about her gentle eyes. “But I have not met your lovely companion, my prince.”

Oberyn’s smile widened and he took the woman’s hand and pulled her forward just a bit, obviously filled with pride to have her at his side. “This is Ellaria Sand, my paramour.”

Ellaria curtseyed, “my lady.”

Y/N returned the gesture. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ellaria.”

The woman glanced at Oberyn with a smile. “It seems you are one of the few who share that sentiment.”

Y/N waved it away. “The Westerosi have strange conceptions of honor and status.” She made sure to pat Sansa’s hand. “But there are a few who make it bearable.”

But then a noise drew all of their attention. It started with Queen Margaery screaming, “he’s choking!”

Joffrey heaved with stuttering breaths before collapsing. And the pieces were falling into place.

“You idiots! Help your king!” Olenna shouted. She was a good actress.

Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention and she watched a poorly dressed fool grab at Sansa’s arm and try to lead her away. Without moving her head, Y/N reached out and snatched Sansa’s hand. “Stay, pup. You know not what you do.”

Sansa’s blue eyes flittered between the Fool and the Lion on her arm and then pulled out of the man’s grip.

Satisfied, Y/N turned to watch Cersei scream and scream and scream as her firstborn turned purple in her arms and Tyrion was carted away by a pair of white cloaks. What a pretty painting that would be. She took another sip of wine.

**

“It is almost as if you were avoiding me, Little Titan.” He still smiled as if no time had passed since their last meeting. But the easy expression faded as he looked down to the small boy in her hold.

Slowly, Y/N set her son down and brushed a bit of dirt from his cherubic cheek. “This is my son, Morgan Lannister.”

Oberyn’s hand shook as he reached out a hand toward the dark haired boy. “Pleased to meet you, little lord.”

Morgan smiled up at Oberyn, bright-eyed, as Oberyn’s finger traced over his brow. “You are Prince Oberyn Nymeros Martell! Mama tells me stories about you—about your adventures across the Narrow Sea. And how you slew a mountain!”

“The Mountain, my dear boy,” his mother gently corrected.

“Hardly appropriate bedtime stories,” Ellaria chuckled.

“He likes to know when the hero prevails.”

**

Little Tommen looked so small when he sat on the throne. He was so…kind. So little. That stupid chair was too rough for his gentle soul. But she clapped when he was proclaimed king and smiled when his bright eyes caught hers, a nervous smile on his lips.

“He will be a fair king,” she heard someone whisper as the clapping and cheering continued. “Kind.”

He would be ruled by Tywin. Y/N knew it to be true. The young king was far easier to manipulate—and perhaps Olenna was anticipating that detail, too. Hm. Olenna versus Tywin in a battle of wills. That would be interesting to watch.

“You are contemplative, Little Titan.”

Y/N smiled at the sound of Oberyn’s voice whispering in her ear. They had frequently sought out each other’s company for the last handful of days, meeting in the sunny gardens to reminisce about their time together in Braavos and learning of their adventures during their time apart. Ellaria had proven to be a true, steadfast friend and Y/N was grateful to know her and hear her stories of her childhood at Hellholt in Dorne. And she wanted to hear what Oberyn thought of this newest pretentious display of power but her eyes darted to see Maester Pycelle and Lord Varys far too close for her liking. While she could rely on knowing where the various servants and Westerosi handmaidens to always whisper the ludicrous stories she had concocted into Tywin and Cersei’s ears, she was not sure how to handle the two men who were arguably more intelligent. “We have a new king,” was all she said. “Long may he reign.”

Oberyn’s nose wrinkled for a moment, confused by her response, but nodded as he noticed Pycelle glance in their direction. “Yes, long may he reign.”

She wanted so badly to simply speak with him. She was alone in the capital. Tywin had dismissed her handmaidens and sent them back to Casterly Rock, replacing them with women from the Westerlands who had once been Princess Myrcella’s maids. He was making sure she was alone. Y/N rolled her shoulders as she watched Tywin approach her. He held out his hand for her to take and she dutifully placed her hand in his, letting him guide her up the small set up steps and dais toward the ugly throne. Tommen’s face broke into a smile as she approached and curtseyed. “Lady Lannister.”

“Your Grace,” she replied. “May the Seven bless your reign,” she repeated the words she had heard droned over and over, knowing the little king found comfort in them even if she thought it ridiculous.

“Thank you, my lady.”

Tywin squeezed her arm and she bit back a wince as he led her away. His grip only tightened the further away they were from the mass of celebrators and they only slowed to a stop for a moment, in a dark corner of the hall for him to hiss in her ear, “you will retire to your chambers, immediately.”

Over his shoulder, Y/N spotted Oberyn slipping into the hall, his dark eyes narrowed at the scene. “Of course, my lord.”

But his grip only tightened. “I will not have you making a spectacle of yourself and my house’s name.” Tywin’s long fingers finally pulled away from her skin and he signaled for two white cloaks to flank her on each side. “Make sure she is waiting for me. Do not let her leave the Tower of the Hand until I have come for her. Am I understood?”

Y/N could only gape at her husband as two pairs of unfamiliar, armored hands grasped at her arms and started to pull her away.

And when she was all but shoved into her chambers in the cold tower, Y/N knew she would be facing the old lion’s wrath.

Time trickled by slowly. The tower she had been told to call home was quiet. No servants. No handmaidens (she would not be surprised if they had been told to vacate that morning). No lower-ranking Lannisters begging for a bit of attention.

She was alone.

And she waited.

A glance outside her chamber’s window let her know that the two guards were still standing sentinel at the entry to the tower. Maybe she had become a character from one of those songs children were so fond of—a princess in a tower, waiting for a knight to rescue her.

But she was not a princess.

She was a daughter of Braavos. And she was tired of waiting for something to happen to her, for continuing to allow things to happen. She was going to make it happen.

**

“My lady, I am so sorry,” an out of breath handmaiden sprinted to her side and looked down at the little lord. “He ran off when I turned for just a moment.”

Y/N looked down at Morgan who offered a guilty smile. “I missed you, mama.”

“I was only gone for a moment, little one,” Y/N murmured before pressing a kiss to his cheek and winking at the handmaiden, letting her know there was no harm done. Her son was hard to contain on the best of days. “We have talked about being patient, no? I will never leave you alone for long.”

“But Septon Martyn said you were…umm…” his little face scrunched up, searching for words. “I forget.”

“That’s okay, little one. You’ll remember later.”

“But did you see a dragon?” He nearly screeched, dark eyes lighting up.

“I did. And it was beautiful.” She bent and set him back on his little feet. “But you have to promise mama something, yes? You have to stay with Septon Martyn and Tyanna until I am finished.”

Morgan’s bottom lip jutted out and his gaze moved to Oberyn who was looking down at him with an intense fondness that made her sigh. And Ellaria was at his side, a gentle and curious affection in her gaze. “But what if I want to stay with Prince Oberyn?”

**

Y/N knew to protect her head even before she passed the first stone step. Down, down, down she fell, limbs smacking against the stairs and bannisters until she came to an abrupt stop on the cold ground. The ceiling swam as she finally opened her eyes.

Within a handful of pained breaths, blood coating her teeth and tongue, she watched Tywin loom over her. He had leisurely walked down the winding stairs, uncaring of how he had tried to kill her just moments ago. But perhaps he knew she would survive. This was simply a warning.

“You are a disgrace. You are my wife. I will not be made a fool of any longer. You will not be seen dallying with some Dornish tart prince or his whore. You will not cavort around as if you truly belong here. You do not. You have not earned your place yet.”

“What do you want?” She asked, tongue heavy in her mouth and blood coating her throat. “What do you want?”

“What was promised to me. I do not know what potion you’ve conjured or trick you have conceived, but I will be given an heir. Or I will have your head on a pike.” His thin lips curled into a sneer, the closest she had ever seen to him smile, before he stepped over her crumpled form and out into the sunlight.

And she let herself wallow for just a moment, only until the ceiling stopped spinning and then she rolled onto her side with a wince and grunted as she pushed herself up onto unsteady feet.

“If you want an heir, I’ll produce an heir.” The vow was snarled into the quiet air of the tower.

**

Y/N watched little Morgan toddle away, his hand firmly clasped in the handmaiden’s, babbling excitedly about dragons and princes. And then her eyes once again found Oberyn and Ellaria, both also watching the little lord walk away.

“He looks like you,” Ellaria said with a smile.

“Yes. A small blessing, I suppose.” She watched Oberyn’s smile widen and he unsuccessfully hid it behind his hand.

A sudden movement caught their gaze and they realized that Cersei had come back, apparently ready to parley with the Dragon Queen.

**

A cold cloth was pressed to the swelling of her cheek.

“How cruel, to hurt someone so beautiful.”

The scent of the pleasure house was almost comforting; filled with expensive perfumes and burning incense, it was a welcome reprieve from the stench of the city. But all Y/N truly cared about was how soft Ellaria’s touch was and how gentle the other woman was, even after Y/N had bodily climbed in through the window of their room and collapsed onto the floor.

In a strange stroke of luck, the pair had not been entertaining themselves with another person’s (or multiple people) talents and time. And perhaps she truly did look worse for wear if the pained looks and surprised noises they let out when she lifted her head were any indication.

Ellaria had quickly called for a servant to bring what she needed as Oberyn easily hid Y/N’s crumpled form in their warm bed from any prying eyes.

“I am sorry…” Y/N said, “I am so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Oberyn asked as he took a seat beside her. Gentle fingers pressed at broken skin at her hairline and he frowned. “You escaped your gilded cage and sought safety with us—there is nothing to apologize for in this instance, Little Titan. You have trusted us. There is no higher honor.”

Ellaria hummed her agreement and continued to clean the cuts and calm the swelling around her face. “But how you managed to evade all those gold and white cloaks is surely a tale to tell.”

Y/N smiled but regretted it when pain bloomed across her entire face and Ellaria tutted as a bit of blood bubbled from a scab. “I do doubt it is anything worthy of repeating. Just a bit of Sweetsleep in some wine and hoping for the best.”

“It took you five days to think of Sweetsleep?” Oberyn teased but there was still a clear undertone of concern in his voice that made her heart clench. They cared.

She had a plan, true. And if they agreed vengeance could belong to all of them. Tywin had taken enough from them. “It took me five days to muster the courage to come to you.”

The simple sentence took the air from the room. Ellaria’s gentle touch paused and Oberyn grasped her hands, careful of the injuries. “Tell us, Little Titan. Tell us what you need.”

Y/N looked to Ellaria first and then Oberyn. “It is my lord-husband.”

“I knew it,” Oberyn said, looking to Ellaria who nodded. “I knew he would. He destroys everything he touches. Everything.”

“And I need to let him think he has—just for a few moons longer.”

“Why? Why wait? I can kill him now and be done with it-”

“I want to kill him,” Y/N said, voice steady. “But I want to take away everything he has created. Everything he has worked for, killed for. I want it all. And you are the only ones who would be able to truly take it from him, the only ones I trust.”

Ellaria and Oberyn looked at each other again before turning back to her. “What is your plan, Little Titan?”

**

She knew Cersei was lying when she said that she would send the Crown’s forces to aid in the fight against the Night King. But it seemed Jon and Daenerys would take her at her word.

Stupid mistake.

As the small crowd dispersed and Y/N continued to play the dutiful peon with a final curtsey, her mind churned. While Cersei had most of the Westerland armies at the capital, some had been allowed to keep to their posts in their homeland. They were Y/N’s to command. And she knew they would listen.

She would not stay in the capital. She did not care if Cersei had expected her to stay. She did not care if the polite thing would be to at least graciously decline the rooms probably readied for her presence.

She did not care.

Her son was in the city. And a war was coming.

The Dragon Queen and Jon Snow were trustworthy. Y/N did not care if the wrath of Cersei was turned on her after this—she could handle Cersei, if needed. But the Realm needed Dragons if they wanted to survive. Daenerys seemed much more reasonable and willing to listen than Cersei ever did so she would not mind if the petite Valyrian sat on the Iron Throne after the dead were dealt with. But that came first.

The small entourage Y/N had arrived with was waiting dutifully by her wheelhouse, also tired of the city, it seemed.

“My lady,” A soft voice said, gaining her attention.

Y/N turned to see Ellaria waiting patiently just outside the Dragon Pit. “Yes?” She took a moment to glance around and see that they were largely alone. Everyone was too preoccupied with their own retreat to pay them any mind.

“We must speak with you.”

Y/N gave one last look to her son, watching him laugh so easily at something a handmaiden whispered into his ear. For now, he was safe.

Y/N turned and linked her arm through Ellaria’s, once again finding an easy comfort in the other woman’s warmth. “I am all yours for a few moments, my lady.”

**

“Lady Lannister, what a sight you are!”

Y/N bit back the snarl at Maester Pycelle’s exclamation. Despite tending to her bruising, swelling and broken skin for nearly a fortnight, she still looked a fright. She knew it. But it was another thing for an old man in tattered rags to announce it so loudly.

“It is nothing. A servant spilled a bit of wine near the stairs and I did not see it. A careless mistake.”

Pycelle nodded. “Yes. Careless. But you should thank the Seven that you are still able to fulfill your earthly, wifely duties.”

Y/N felt her hands curl into fists and tucked them behind her back, ignoring the ache the movement caused. “Yes. Duties.”

Tyrion’s trial had finally started and Y/N was expected to attend. She retrieved Sansa from her locked chambers—a stark contrast from the Black Cells where Tyrion was kept—and had escorted her to the Great Hall, half a dozen kingsguard surrounding them. She had only a moment alone with Sansa in her chambers before she knew she would draw suspicion from the guards waiting outside the door. “You will need to lie, pup.”

“But-”

Y/N grasped Sansa’s chin in a loose grip but her eyes were hard. “You will lie, Sansa. Your life depends on it. I can only keep you safe if you do.”

“What would you have me say?”

“That you knew of Tyrion’s hatred of his nephew but you did not think he would go so far as to poison him.”

Sansa’s blue eyes watered but she nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good, pup. Then you shall be just fine.”

The entire Great Hall was packed with spectators and she took a seat toward the front, near the dais as Margaery’s side, and Sansa had been relegated toward the back, being treated like another accused instead of a witness. The whole thing smacked of Cersei’s bias.

But Y/N held her tongue, watching as Tyrion was escorted into the hall in heavy chains, and stood as Tommen did, following the rest of the crowd. Tywin briefly looked at her, a smug look on his face as he saw the black and red gown she wore—the stupid garment had been the only garment in her chambers that morning. He was not subtle.

“I, Tommen of the House Baratheon, first of my name, King of the Andals, First Men, and Rhyonar, lord of the Seven Kingdoms, hereby recuse myself from this trial. Tywin of the House Lannister, Hand of the King, protector of the realm, will serve as judge in my stead. With him, Prince Oberyn of the House Martell, and Lord Mace of the House Tyrell. If found guilty, may the gods punish the accused.”

As Oberyn moved to take his seat, he caught her eye for just a moment—and that look was all she needed to remember to breathe.

As person after person provided “evidence” against Tyrion, Y/N started to wonder if she would ever be able to leave this stupid hall. There was a slight reprieve in her sheer boredom when Sansa was called forward and she gave testimony that Tyrion did not care for Joffrey but she could not be sure if he truly poisoned his nephew. Her blue eyes glanced toward Y/N for her final words, “but I would not be so bold as to completely clear him of guilt or conspiracy.”

And that proved enough for Tywin to dismiss the little pup and let her retake her seat—without the small troupe of guards surrounding her. Sansa had been deemed innocent.

But this farce of trial was far from over. It continued on and on—and even included an appearance from Shae, who was apparently Tyrion’s lover. How quaint. Oberyn easily saw right through her lies and made nearly everyone present squirm with a double entendre. Y/N hid her smile behind her hand and ignored the blood bursting from her healing lip.

But the joy was short lived when Tyrion exclaimed, “I demand a trial by combat.”

**

Oberyn was waiting in a dark hollow of the dragon pit’s crumbling walls and drew both Ellaria and Y/N into his arms. He kissed Ellaria slowly and then pressed his warm lips against Y/N’s pulse. It sent familiar shivers down her spine.

“You are planning something, Little Titan.”

“As are you, my prince.”

Ellaria sighed. “You two are impossible.”

Y/N ducked her head with a smile. “A fair assessment, my lady, but I do not think you would enjoy us half as much if we were not constantly scheming.”

“You know the lioness will not honor her word,” Oberyn cut in quickly. His grip tightened around them.

“Of course not. She will wait for the Night King to both wipe out her enemies and then try to fight him herself, or attack after the battle is won and their numbers are depleted.” While Cersei thought herself Tywin’s true heir in manners of warfare and plotting, the only true manner she had inherited from her father was her inability to forget a slight. “I will not stand by and wait for the dead to reach Casterly Rock. Not while my son is…” the words died on her tongue.

But Ellaria grasped her hand and squeezed it tight. “You have something to fight for. We all do.”

“Dorne will fight beside you. We will fight for the living.”

**

“It is for luck,” Y/N said with a small smile. “Even the bravest in Braavos drink it. I have not seen a single man who drank this fall to his opponent.”

“I do not need to drink your potion to kill the Dornishman.” Of course, Ser Gregor Clegane would say something like that. His reputation and his (stupid) moniker of The Mountain might have been well earned but that did not mean Y/N any higher of him. In fact, his inability to think for himself when Tywin gave an order only made him smaller in her eyes.

Easy prey.

But that did not mean she would let Oberyn handle him on his own.

Y/N raised the cup a little higher, pressing a worried expression to her face. “It is more for my nerves, my lord, I assure you. I have heard of your prowess even across the Narrow Sea. But please,” she reached out to place a hand on his arm, a pretty picture of genteel worry, “calm my heart.”

Gregor nearly sneered as he took the cup and drained it in one gulp. “For you, Lady Lannister.”

Y/N reached out to take the cup back with a quick dip of her chin and another smile. “I thank you, Ser Gregor.”

She handed it off to a handmaiden and then let herself be escorted to her seat under the canopy, sitting aside her husband. She watched Oberyn and Ellaria speak to Tyrion under their own canopy, happily drinking wine and eating berries. The confidence they had in Oberyn was palpable—and for good reason. But Y/N never did like to watch an even match.

It was too boring.

Pycelle prattled on about how the gods would decide the fate of the trial by combat and soon the two men were engaged in battle.

Oberyn delighted in each blow and catch of his spear into the Mountain’s hulking form and made sure Gregor knew who his opponent was. “I am the brother of Elia Martell. Do you know why I have come all the way to this stinking shit-pile of a city? For you.” Another catch and parry. “I'm going to hear you confess before you die. You raped my sister. You murdered her. You killed her children. Say it now and we can make this quick.” Another clash of blades. “Say it. You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children.” Y/N watched Clegane stumble, nearly fall to his knees, as Oberyn landed a kick to his hulking form.

“You murdered her! You killed her children!” Each word out of Oberyn’s mouth grew louder and louder.

Even over the din of the crowd starting to roar, Y/N heard Gregor’s shuddering breath as he struggled to his feet and his grip seemed to loosen on his broadsword.

Oberyn sank the end of his spear into Gregor’s side and quickly gave another, dodging a loose-gripped swipe of The Mountain’s sword at his neck. He stepped back only to watch the giant of a man stumble with a smirk. Oberyn charged at the Mountain to give him one final blow. Blood spurted out of Gregor’s mouth as Oberyn pulled his spear back.

The earth itself seemed to rumble as Gregor finally fell to his knees.

“Wait. Are you dying? No, no, no. You can't die yet,” Oberyn mocked. “You haven't confessed. Say it. Say her name. Elia Martell. You raped her. You killed her children. Elia Martell. Who gave you the order? Who gave you the order?!” Oberyn lifted a hand and pointed toward Tywin.

And for the millionth time since Oberyn had arrived in the city, Y/N had to hide a smile.

“Say her name! You raped her! You murdered her! You killed her children. Say it. Say her name. Say it!”

Y/N did not move her gaze from the ring, uncaring of Tywin’s reaction. She would remember how the crowds gasped and started to murmur. In a single moment, the rumor that had almost been forgotten had been reignited. She was not surprised to learn that Oberyn had declared himself Tyrion’s champion when Gregor was called in for the crown.

And she wanted to make sure Oberyn was given at least a small bit of justice.

But Gregor could not answer. He fell forward, more blood pouring from his mouth, arms shaking to keep him from completely collapsing.

“Tell me!” Oberyn roared. “Tell me!” He leaned down to listen to something The Mountain said, whispered only for him to hear. But when he stood, Oberyn swung his spear and buried it into the Mountain’s head.

**

Y/N, Ellaria, and Oberyn plotted to move their loyal forces for only a little longer, keeping both the Dragon Queen and Crazed Lioness from overhearing. But soon-

“Mama! Mama!” And for the second time that day, Y/N was nearly leveled by her son throwing himself at her legs.

“We must work on your patience, my love. I was nearly finished.” She hauled the squirming boy into her arms and kissed his cheek. “We shall have supper at the inn but the hill when I am finished, hm? They have that pie you like.”

Morgan happily nodded and squirmed again, wanting to be let down. As his little feet hit the broken stone, he turned to look up at Oberyn and Ellaria, smiling wide. “Hello again, Prince Oberyn!”

Oberyn smiled and leaned down to Morgan’s level before gesturing to Ellaria who smiled fondly down at him. “This is Ellaria Sand, the love of my life.”

Morgan’s little hand reached out to Ellaria and he pressed a quick peck to her fingers, much to her delight. “My lady.” His following bow only continued to earn giggles.

Y/N watched Oberyn as he observed the little scene. His face was serene yet sad. And she knew why.

“You have a viper’s eyes, little lord.”

Morgan preened at the compliment despite not knowing what it meant. “Thank you, Prince Oberyn!”

**

King’s Landing was a powder keg.

After ‘the gods’ deemed Tyrion innocent, he fled in the night. But Cersei continued to rage and rage and rage, still offering a hefty sum for Tyrion’s head on a platter. Tommen and Margaery were married in another lavish ceremony and the Tyrells continued to press their influence over their city and the new king, only pushing Cersei further toward the edge. Tywin would hold daily meetings with the Small Council and with Lady Olenna, trying to keep the precarious balance of power decidedly in his favor.

And all that distraction proved very fortuitous for Y/N.

“Oh please, please,” she gasped as Oberyn continued to move.

Ellaria chuckled above her before moving Y/N’s mouth back to between her thighs. Y/N had always been very talented with her tongue. It was something Ellaria was happy to learn.

“Patience,” Oberyn said in a breathy huff. “You are always so greedy.”

But Y/N simply buried herself further into the soft patch of curls between Ellaria’s thighs as Oberyn canted his hips just slightly, letting her feel him nearly in her stomach.

They had done this every day—and almost every night—as Tywin was distracted.

Oberyn’s warm, calloused hands curled over Y/N’s thighs, anchoring them around his waist as his pace grew faster and faster. And Ellaria sighed, holding Y/N’s head still as she found her high and coated Y/N’s lips with her release—sticky and sweet.

“Are you nearly done, my love?” Ellaria’s voice was raspy and she did not move from her seat on Y/N’’s mouth, even as she shook with overstimulation. Y/N was greedy—Oberyn had rightly branded her so. And Ellaria tasted so good. “You do have a meeting to attend.”

Oberyn huffed but his pace did increase and the coil in Y/N’s belly wounded tighter and tighter, for the third time that morning, and then finally snapped as Oberyn groaned before leaning forward to press a kiss to Ellaria’s kiss-slick lips. Warmth bloomed and Y/N shook.

Yes. King’s Landing was a powder keg. But it was delicious.

And when Y/N passed the Small Council chamber later that morning she nearly snorted as she heard Tywin say, “You look tired, Prince Oberyn.”

And Oberyn, ever the viper, responded, “yes, my lover and I are trying for another child. I have heard you are trying for another heir, too, no?”

When the next morning came and Tywin left her bed, let him be for a moment before readying herself for the day. She slipped into his chambers and put on her dutiful-wife mask, one she had worn so well for the past handful of moons.

“I will be speaking with the Maesters this morning.”

“Oh?” Tywin responded, buttoning his tunic.

“Yes, I have been feeling poorly and I have missed my last moon blood. I am hoping I will have good news for you soon.”

Tywin was quiet for a moment before he hummed. It almost sounded happy. “You will tell me immediately what they say. Do you understand?”

“Of course, my lord.” She pulled his Hand of the King pin from atop one of his trunks and handed it to him. “I would have Sansa as a ward. King’s Landing has only made her a scared little thing—she will cow in front of the Northmen she’s supposed to rally to your grandson’s cause.”

“And you believe you may shape her into something-”

“Someone who will command respect and is loyal, my lion. Your daughter, for all her charms, was not suited to mold someone as gentle as Sansa. Her children were born with a steel core. Little Sansa needs a gentle, shaping hand.” Y/N slipped her arms around Tywin’s shoulders as he adjusted the pin over his heart. “I know you have an allegiance with Lord Bolton who you have named the Warden of the North in the Starks’ absence. The Northmen’s loyalty to them is tenuous at best. I know you strive for peace. If you could arrange for Sansa and the Boltons to find common ground, I know it would give you a small bit of reprieve to know you no longer had to worry about the North revolting. Again.”

Tywin froze—just for a moment. “Perhaps you aren’t as useless as I had been beginning to suspect.”

Y/N only smiled.

And after having the Maesters confirm that she was with child, she knew Tywin would come to her bed chamber again. She offered him a cup of wine in celebration and watched him drain it as he smirked. And she let him undo the laces of her dress. She let him pull her chemise over her head. She let him press her down into the pillows.

And then he paused. His eyes screwed shut with a pained groan. Tywin fell to the side and Y/N happily climbed over him.

“What…have you done?”

Y/N felt the slash of a smile grow across her face. “I have taken everything from you.” Her hands folded over her stomach. “You have only moments to live. But life grows within me. And your line has ended.” She watched the light fade from his eyes before forcing tears into her own. She let a few trickle down her cheeks for maximum effect before climbing off her husband’s lap and pulling on a dressing robe before dashing to the door and flinging it open. “My husband, please! Please someone help my husband!”

**

“Does he know?” Oberyn asked quietly as he helped Y/N lift little Morgan into the carriage. The child had fallen asleep at the table, nearly tipping over his prized pie. A day full of excitement had worn him out. He had caught a single glimpse of a dragon as their traveling party departed the city and had animatedly recounted the story to anyone and everyone who would listen. Oberyn and Ellaria had quietly followed.

“He knows his father is a brave, strong man. Who is loyal to his word, devoted to his family, and a hero for the ages.”

“Does he believe it is Tywin?” Oberyn asked, his fingers brushing the dark hair away from his son’s forehead.

“I believe he is smart enough to understand it is not.” She paused. “He is heir to the Lannister seat of power. He will hold everything Tywin worked so hard to build and protect. But the Lannister bloodline has ended. Yours will continue—yours will hold his seat of power until the gods deem this world finished. House Lannister is now your blood—your son.”

“But will he know the truth? Will he ever know me as his father?”

“Of course,” she said with a small smile. “When the time is right, and I know he can keep this secret, he will know your name as his true father. He will know you, love you.”

“And you? What of you?”

“What of me?” She repeated. “What would you need of me?”

Oberyn and Ellaria locked eyes for a moment before their penetrating gazes moved back to her. “We will want you as well.”

“Me?”

“We will always want you.”

Y/N sucked in a breath, trembling for the first time in decades. “Will you ever forgive me?”

**

Gone were the washes of gaudy crimson fabric and she was once again permitted to drape herself in black. She was a widow now. Perhaps that suited her. And now that Tywin was dead, she saw no reason to stay in King’s Landing. Tywin, before his tragic death of a bad heart, had announced to the court that Y/N was with child. It had only cemented her status as the true ruler of Casterly Rock.

Before she departed, Cersei called her into her chambers for tea. It was the most civil Cersei had ever been toward her and it was still laced with unsubtle threats and verbal barbs.

“The newest Lannister. A new brother,” Cersei mused, her eyes pointedly looking at Y/N’s stomach. “I hope they look like father.”

“I do doubt they will look like Lannisters.”

“Oh?” Cersei said, mouth tilting just so. “Are you so sure?”

“I do not look like a Lannister, your grace. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

“Yes, but the seed is strong-”

“Not strong enough. I assure you. The babe will look like me. After all, it seems you have taken all the luck and used it on your children—all of them, green-eyed and golden-haired. What are the chances? Hm?” Y/N finished her tea and stood. “I thank you for the company, your grace. But it is time for me to leave.” And Y/N turned and left without being dismissed, a smile on her face all the while.

And she left. She left without saying goodbye to Oberyn and Ellaria—her only friends in the city. She left knowing it would hurt them. But trying to find a moment to find them, to explain, would only cast suspicion on the paternity of her child. Because she knew she would not be able to stop herself from falling into their arms one last time.

Sansa gave her a small smile as they both settled into the wheelhouse and soon they were off.

Months slipped by and the pregnancy was largely uneventful.

She had kept her distance when she had heard of the Greyjoy attack on Myrcella’s boat and the princess’ death. She kept all the sword hands she could within the borders of the Westerlands when Cersei seized power from the Tyrells after the mysterious death of Tommen. She declared herself queen and threw Margaery into the Black Cells, threatening to send her head to Olenna if the Reach rebelled. She had played the part of careful, dutiful Lady of the Rock very well. She had kept Cersei’s eye off her kingdom and focused on the threats she perceived from across the Narrow Sea or the North.

Sansa had been a dutiful student. When Lord Bolton asked if Sansa would be willing to marry his son, Ramsey, she accepted, even knowing the boy’s reputation to be cold and cruel. Crueler still after the mysterious and suspicious death of his father.

But he never touched Sansa. No. On their wedding night, Ramsey fell ill and then never woke.

But Sansa was the Lady of Winterfell again—a Stark was in the North.

And it was so easy for the North to rally to her cause and the North rose up in revolt again. It made Y/N laugh.

But soon the baby was coming—far sooner than she had anticipated. With a final scream, it was over. A baby’s cries filled the air and a bloody, squirming infant was placed in her arms, wrapped in black silk.

“A boy, my lady. A healthy boy. Have you thought of a name?”

Y/N felt tears start to gather in her eyes as she looked down at her son—her beautiful son. The spitting image of her—but then his eyes opened. And he had his father’s eyes. Viper eyes. “His name is Morgan.”

**

Y/N’s lips still burned from the kiss Oberyn and Ellaria left her with before they departed.

And her heart was lighter, too. They had forgiven her—had said there was nothing, truly, to forgive. “You were protecting your child. My child.”

Morgan stirred in her arms as the wheelhouse rode over a bump. “Mama?”

“Yes, my love?”

His viper eyes opened and she smiled, seeing them shine in the low light of the evening. “Will we see Prince Oberyn and Lady Ellaria again?”

Her smile widened. “Yes. I can promise you that.”

-

Please let me know what you think! 

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @huliabitch​ @revolution-starter​ @starlight-starwrites​

[fanficimagery]

Hell Takes Riverdale pt. II

Imagine moving to Riverdale while your father has some business to attend to. While there, you meet some people you find yourself growing attached to. (In which the other three most important serpents accept Y/N and shit goes down).

You can find part one right HERE.

Words: 12.9K Author’s Note: Violence. Somewhat.

For the next couple of days, you're a little bummed that no one other than Jughead texts you to see what you're up to. You respect your friends' decision to distance themselves, but it still hurts. And not even Jughead's words of assurance are enough to ease your mind.

Your mood sours even more when you and your dad are visited by the Plague Kings who are rather pushy and wondering about when their Queen will return to finally marry a Prince of their choosing. Lucifer managed to make you bite your tongue, answering their questions with questions of his own and annoying them enough that they returned to Hell rather quickly.

"I am not marrying Caliban, dad," you tell him. "The only reason they're pushing this marriage is because they don't like a woman in charge. You have no idea how close I am to just putting Lilith in charge in my absence."

Lucifer chuckles. "Fret not, darling. As soon as Riverdale sees the error of their ways I will be returning to Hell to reclaim my throne." You frown and your dad's smile turns genuine, not a hint of mockery in his tone or expression. "I wanted you to rule Hell, but you've seem to have found your footing here on Earth."

"Dad.."

"So I'll reclaim Hell and leave you with Riverdale. All I want for you is to be happy, my darling daughter, and if those in Riverdale give you that happiness, then who am I to take that away and make you rule a place where your subjects would see you dead rather than on the throne?"

"I don't know about that," you mumble. "The only ones speaking to me right now are Jughead and FP."

"The others will come around. Trust me. Especially little miss Pinky. She's been yelling at the boys to get their head out of their asses."

"Yeah? If that were the case then she would have visited me herself with or without the boys."

"Give them a bit more time. It's like FP said- they're a loyal bunch. They just need to wrap their minds around a few things."

"If you say so." You watch as your dad fiddles with his cufflinks. "Well while you're out ruining lives, I'll be downstairs in the theatre. I don't feel like going out tonight."

Lucifer chuckles. "Sweetheart, you haven't been out in the last few nights. Or to school for that matter, but I get it. Shall I tell your friends where you are if they ask?"

"I don't care, dad. Tell them whatever you want."

Before your dad can leave, you head downstairs to the basement where you set up a movie theatre in your free time. Closest to the stairs, a kitchenette of sorts was installed so you didn't have to go far for snacks, a projector hung from the center of the ceiling and was pointed towards the back wall where a large white screen was installed. There's a large sofa in the middle of the room, which is larger than a king sized bed, and a speaker in every corner of the room so you can really enjoy whatever movie or show you watch.

After turning on the projector and searching for something to watch on your laptop, you settle down in the middle of the sofa and snuggle down with a blanket and pillows. You're watching a show where each episode is about a different murder mystery and you're two episodes in when the doorbell rings. You groan and remain laying down, hoping whoever is at the door goes away, when it rings again.

Pausing the show, you roll out of your haven of comfort and trudge upstairs. You yank open the front door upon the third ringing of the bell and not even the sight of three faces you'd been longing to see is enough to pull you from your funk. "What?"

Toni's eyebrows raise at your tone and the two boys grin at your pouty expression. Sweet Pea reaches forward, tugging on a loose strand of hair. "And to think you're the daughter of the devil. You're as adorable as an angry kitten."

You slap at his hand, exhaling loudly as the three of them chuckle. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Can't we visit our friend?" Fangs shrugs. Your expression softens just so at the casual mention of him calling you their friend. "It's been a few days. We missed you glaring the Ghoulies into submission at school."

"That and we might have overheard your dad telling FP about some demons demanding you return to Hell and marry some douchebag prince," Toni says. "No way are you running off and getting hitched before you tell us what the hell that is all about."

You glance between all three of them and, seeing as they're trying, you decide to let them in. "If you're going to stay, shoes come off. We're going to be in the theatre."

"Theatre?" Sweet Pea wonders.

Finally grinning, you step back from the door and gesture them inside. Seeing that you're in socks, Toni readily kicks off her boots. Fangs shrugs and does the same, and Sweet Pea sighs before toeing off his own boots as well.

Afterwards you lead them down into the basement and choke down a laugh when Toni gasps at your setup. "We've been having sleepovers and movie nights at my trailer when you had this beneath your house?!"

"Well to be fair, I couldn't bring any of you over because I couldn't risk anyone from Hell popping in while I had you over." Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs all tense and you crawl onto the sofa to get comfortable. "But they've been chased away for now so there's no worry." Slowly but surely your friends crawl in, but only Toni is brave enough to sit directly next to you. Fangs stays on Toni's other side while Sweet Pea lays across the end of the sofa. "So any questions before I restart my murder mystery marathon?"

"Well you can start with these plague kings or whatever the hell your dad was talking about," Sweet Pea says. "What's their deal?"

You sigh, dragging a blanket to cover your lap. "So the thing is," you start to tell them, "the throne was never meant to be mine. Lucifer had his sights set on his first born daughter since she's a witch-"

"Witches exist?!" Fangs exclaims.

"Yep. So do a lot of other things," you muse. "I'd stay away from Greendale if I were you." His eyes widen, but Toni and Sweet Pea merely chuckle. "Anyway, my sister was supposed to take after my dad, but she refused him. She was raised to believe Lucifer was the ultimate evil and she didn't want to follow in his footsteps."

"So when do you come in?" Toni asks.

"About a few years ago," you admit. "When my sister refused him, Lucifer sought me out since I'm only a couple hours younger. He brought me into the fold, showed me and told me everything I'd need to know, and I accepted. I learned all about the ins and outs of Hell, learned exactly who is who, but since I'm still half mortal none of the higher ups don't exactly accept me. My coronation almost didn't happen, but it did and now the Plague Kings have been hounding my dad to marry me off to some prince Caliban since he was quite literally made in Hell."

"Well you aren't going through with it, are you?" Sweet Pea asks.

"Ugh. No," you scoff. "I was meant to rule a lot longer than what I have, but no one could have guessed that I'd get attached to a couple of snakes here in Riverdale." You glance at Toni and nudge her arm. "So as of right now, my dad is closing up a few deals before he reclaims his throne down in Hell and I'm left up here in the mortal realm to do as I please. I'll still be obligated to visit Hell, but my main residence will be here."

"And you're okay with that?" Toni asks. "Giving up the title of queen, I mean."

"Of course. I spent many years not knowing who my biological father was and living life like a normal mortal," you say. "I have quite a few perks now, my dad has made a mortal his best friend for the first time ever, and I- I like it here. I like you guys."

"Aww," Toni coos. "You're giving up a throne for us?"

"I guess so." You glance between all three of them. "So are we going to watch something or are we going to play twenty questions all night?"

Fangs glances around, spotting your laptop and pulling it into his lap to search through Netflix. "If we're watching something, we're not watching murder mysteries. Riverdale is weird enough."

Sweet Pea huffs. "You got that right."

"Fine. Pick whatever you want."

Fangs and Sweet Pea settle on the Conjuring much to Toni's dismay and your amusement. You and Toni prop up a mountain of pillows at your back while Fangs uses Toni's thigh as his pillow. Sweet Pea snags a pillow of his own, laying on his side and shoving the pillow between his arm and head as he faces the screen. You turn out the lights, Fangs hits play, and you watch the tale unfold about a haunted house that terrorizes a family. There are a few eerie moments and jump scares that startle all four of you, but only you and Toni roll into each other giggling while the boys swear at you.

Then after the first movie ends, everyone takes a pee break and you lead Toni into your room so she can find something more comfortable to wear seeing as they plan to watch a couple more movies. When you get back down into the basement, you smile as you realize the boys have made full use of the kitchenette and have snacks and drinks waiting for you all on the sofa, and the Conjuring 2 waiting to be played. When the boys complain about the unfairness of your comfort clothes, you tell them you can grab them pajama bottoms from your dad's dresser for them. They hesitate and Toni rolls her eyes, telling you to grab some pants for them. And a little while later, after the boys have changed into the cotton pajama pants, you can't help but laugh as they boast about wearing the devil's pants.

As everyone finally settles down, the boys join you and Toni at the sofa's backrest. You and her are in the middle with Fangs on her other side and Sweet Pea on yours. The lights turn out again, the movie plays, and you soak in the closeness of your friends. Halfway through the boys collect the bowls and trash, and take it to the kitchenette. You and Toni stretch out then, laying on your sides in the middle of the sofa with you cuddling her from behind as you face the screen. The boys coo and Fangs dives in front of Toni so she can cuddle him and Sweet Pea hesitantly slides in behind you. You grin at him over your shoulder and then try to focus back on the movie.

"Is this okay?" Sweet Pea murmurs, his large hand squeezing your hip.

His lips brushing the shell of your ear makes you shiver. "Mhm." You pause to clear your throat and lean back a little bit until the back of your shoulder hits his chest. "If, uh, if my dad shows up just ignore his orgy comments."

He chuckles. "What?"

"Apparently orgies are common down in the pits. Everyone's been waiting for the Queen- soon to be Princess again- to have her first one, but I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

"What!?" The movie is paused and Fangs immediately turns around, Toni grunting but turning as much as she can as well. "You're gonna have an orgy?!"

"What? No!" You laugh. You gulp when you feel Sweet Pea squeeze your hip again. "I just said I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

"Think being the key word," Toni muses and you groan.

"Well if you agree to one, in Hell or Riverdale, think of me. I'll join." Fangs winks at you and Toni laughs.

"Screw it. Count me in too."

You giggle, shaking your head at them. "Guys, you were literally scared of me days of ago because of who I am and now you wanna have sex with me?"

"Well not with you exactly," Fangs says. "Don't get me wrong, you're hot, but someone's already called dibs and-"

"What?" You frown.

Fangs eyes seem to widen then, momentarily darting over your head. "N-Nothing. Nevermind." Toni giggles at his rambling. "But yeah, orgies. Woo."

Having heard enough, Toni pushes Fangs' forehead away from her so he'll turn around. "Can we table the topic of orgies for now? Let's get back to our movie."

Fangs grumbles but turns around nonetheless and the movie resumes.

You get through the second movie with no problem, but before a third could be chosen a loud crack of thunder interrupts the tranquility of the basement.

"Shit." Sweet Pea is the first to rush off the sofa, followed by Fangs and then Toni. Everyone scrambles upstairs and the front door is thrown open, and all three groan at the drizzle that will no doubt turn into a full blown downpour in no time. "We need to move our bikes."

"The garage," you tell them. "Bring them into the garage." Your hurry towards the kitchen where there's a door that connects to the garage, hitting a switch that opens up the door. You step down, watching as your three friends drive their bikes into the safety of the garage so the rain won't ruin their leather seats. "All good?" You ask as they turn off the engines and dismount.

Another crack of thunder has you flinching and hugging yourself. Sweet Pea eyes you warily and you offer him a feeble smile. "You good?" He asks instead.

"Mhm. I'm just- I'm not a fan of thunderstorms."

Toni grins. "Seriously? You see demons on the reg and you're afraid of a little lightning and thunder?"

"I know. It's dumb. Can we go back downstairs now or do you need another change of clothes? You guys can spend the night if you want so you don't have to drive on slick roads."

"We're hardly even damp," Toni tells you. "We're fine."

You flinch yet again when the thunder cracks, louder now, and Sweet Pea chuckles at you. You frown at him, walking back into your house after hitting the switch to close the garage. The others follow you and you head back down into the basement, readily climbing under the blankets.

"Aw. Don't worry, Y/N. We'll protect you." As Sweet Pea crawls back in, he pillows his head on your chest and wraps an arm around your stomach.

For some reason, being weighed down seems to calm you so you lay one hand on his arm over your stomach and the other around his back to let him know you were okay with his position. Fangs grins at you and Toni smiles warmly, her eyes darting between you and Sweet Pea before the two of them settle down on your other side.

Apparently Fangs has taken it upon himself to pick what you're watching and you're so wrapped up in the fact a thunderstorm is raging outside that you don't mind his choosing of the Fast and the Furious. Then during the second movie in that series, the boys have apparently fallen asleep and you know you'll be joining them soon.

"I think I've figured it out."

Toni's voice startles you and you quickly run your fingers through Sweet Pea's hair, gently scratching at his scalp to calm him back to sleep. "Figured what out?" You mumble.

"That serpent you had your eye on." You freeze and she quietly giggles. "It's Sweet Pea, isn't it?"

You mull over her words for a moment until you exhale softly. "Yes, but I'm pretty sure being the daughter of the devil killed any chance we could have had."

"Are you kidding me? That boy is head over heels," Toni says. "Yes, your true identity threw him off a little, but I mean look at him! He's wrapped around you, head on your tits." You can't help but giggle, frowning at Toni when Sweet Pea stirs yet again. "Shut up. You're gonna wake him up."

"You two are adorable. He's not as aggressive when you're around and I've noticed tonight you smile a little bit brighter when it comes to him. I give you guys a couple of weeks top before someone makes a move."

"You're delusional, Topaz. Get some sleep."

She smiles at you. "Just you wait and see, Morningstar. And besides, you didn't see his face when we were talking about orgies. If looks could kill, Fangs would be dead right now."

"Mhm. We'll see."

Over the next couple of weeks, the three friends of yours seem to be at ease with you once more. Jughead was always at ease with you and your dad, so it was a relief when Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs started loosening up as well. There were times, however, when Sweet Pea and Fangs would straighten up whenever your dad walked into the room and that highly amused you every single time.

Your basement seemed to become hangout central and Jughead often joked that it was a shame everyone knew about it now. Which then led to Fangs and Sweet Pea ganging up on him for keeping it a secret.

You, Toni, Jughead, and Sweet Pea find yourselves at Pop's one day while Fangs went to visit a family member. You and Sweet Pea are practically sitting thigh to thigh on one side of the booth with Toni and Jug across from you. Toni, to this day, hasn't let you live it down that you have a crush on her longtime friend and it seems Jughead has now noticed it too. It also doesn't help that Sweet Pea is oddly rather touchy and has taken to slinging his arm across your shoulders whenever you're near- something which sets your heart racing every single time and fighting off a telltale blush that threatens to bloom.

"Alright," Jughead muses as Pop delivers your milkshakes, "so we were meant to celebrate the good news together, but Fangs isn't here so we'll just have celebratory shakes instead."

Your brow furrows. "Celebrate what?"

"You haven't heard?" Toni wonders. "Y/N, your dad bought Sunnyside Trailer Park." Your eyes widen and your friends chuckle at your expression.

"He visited my dad a few weeks ago and was appalled at our living conditions."

"Oh no," you mumble. "He was rude, wasn't he? I'm so so-"

"Actually," Toni interrupts, "he wasn't. "Either the devil has seriously gone soft or he's always been this amazing person because not only did he wipe out rent for everyone in the park, but he's also having the trailers renovated. My grandpa is seriously so happy to have his porch and the leaky roof in his bedroom fixed."

"Oh." You allow yourself to relax. "That's seriously really cool of him," you say. "I wonder why he didn't tell me?"

"Y/N!" Your attention is quickly diverted to Veronica Lodge as she marches up to you, milkshake in hand, and Archie trailing after her as he quietly tries to direct her elsewhere. "What the hell is your dad playing at?"

You frown as you stare up at her, Sweet Pea's arm tightening around you as he tries to pull you closer to him. "Excuse me?"

"Every bank account under my family's name, personal and business, has been frozen. Care to explain?"

It takes a moment for her words to sink in and when they do you hold back a snort that wants to break free. Your father was very vindictive. "I don't know what to tell you, Veronica. I don't put my nose where it doesn't belong. Maybe you should take a page out of my book and stay out of it."

She scoffs. "Please. Daddy has eyes everywhere. We know you're in the thick of things as well. You're not fooling anyone, Y/N. You're exactly like your mafioso father."

"Mafioso? You think my dad is part of the mafia?" You giggle. Toni, Jughead, and Sweet Pea share your amusement. "Oh Veronica," you coo, "the only mafioso in this town is your crooked father. And at that he's not very good at it, is he?"

Before anyone can even blink, the strawberry milkshake in her hand is being up-ended on your face. "Ronnie!" Archie is quick to yank her back, stepping in front of her as Sweet Pea growls and moves to stand up.

But since he's stuck between you and the wall, you raise your arm closest to him and drag him back down by his wrist. With your free hand, you wipe away some of the milkshake from your cheek with your forefinger and pop it in your mouth, sucking it clean. "Delicious," you purr. Grabbing the offered napkin from a still shell shocked Jughead, you wipe more of it out of your eyes. "Hate me all you want Veronica, but your family won't be crawling out of this hole your father dug. Enjoy the luxuries you still have while they last because the Lodge's are done." Veronica huffs, stomping away in a fit of anger. You smirk, chuckling as the other few patrons sitting around stare at you in shock, picking up more napkins to clean your face and shirt when you notice Archie Andrews still standing by the booth. "Yes?"

He shoves his hands in his jean's pockets, staring off in the direction his girlfriend left before looking at you yet again. "All I've been hearing for this past month is what a horrible man your father is." You blink at him, wondering where he's going with this. "So give it to me straight, Y/N. Does my dad have anything to worry about with your dad?"

And oh. Okay. Now you understand why he stayed back and why he's worried. Your father basically ruined the Lodge's, but Archie's never been terrible to you so you decide to ease his mind. "Mr. Andrews has nothing to worry about," you tell him honestly. "Apparently my dad's on the track of doing several good deeds for the town of Riverdale and FP told my dad all about Fred Andrews' hard working nature. He only wants to help those he thinks deserve the help. No strings attached."

"It's true," Jughead tells his friend. "Mr. Morningstar bought Southside High and got jingle jangle out of the halls."

"He bought Sunnyside and wiped out our rent," Sweet Pea says. "There's a crew coming in that's going to start hauling out all the junk and fixing up our trailers."

"In the couple of months that Mr. Morningstar has been here, he's purchased and cleaned up the southside rather than tearing our school and homes down and building over it," Toni tells him. "Could you say Hiram Lodge would have done the same for us?"

Archie shifts uncomfortably under everyone's gaze and you say, "Hiram and my dad had business dealings going back to before we were born. He royally messed up and my dad cleaned it up." You then offer him a faint grin. "My dad is not the horrible person you've no doubt heard about from your girlfriend and her family. Keep that in mind."

The redhead nods. "Thanks. And uh, I'm sorry about Veronica. I tried to stop her."

You shrug. "No harm done. The clothes can be washed. You and me are good, but if your girlfriend steps up to me again I won't be settling things with words."

He huffs a small laugh. "Duly noted." He then glances at the occupant across the booth from you. "See you around, Jug."

As soon as Archie takes his leave, your three friends all converge on you.

"Are you okay?" Jughead immediately asks.

"Girl, you have been blessed with the patience of a million people because I would have lunged across this table if it weren't for your calm demeanor," Toni says.

"I was so close to shanking her," Sweet Pea mumbles.

You snort and swat at his chest with the back of your hand. "It's just a little ice cream, guys. No biggie." You pull at your shirt, nose wrinkling. "I'm just going to go clean up in the bathroom. I'll be back."

"Oh hey," Toni climbs over the back of her seat, hopping out of the booth behind her to meet you, "I have some clothes in my bike's bag if you're interested."

"Yeah. Just bring it to the bathroom."

You head to the bathroom, not caring a bit about your clothes and instead turn on the water at the sink to wash off the stickiness of the ice cream that stayed behind on your skin. Toni appears not a minute later, clothes in hand, and you readily strip out of your jeans right then and there. She doesn't bat an eye and tosses you the pants first.

When you catch them, you give her a deadpan stare which she laughs at. "Leather? Seriously?"

"Put them on, Y/N."

You grumble all the while, putting one leg in and then the other, you almost falling a couple of times as you drag the leather up your legs. Toni is no help, she laughing at your misfortune and then at your exasperated, "Fucking hell. How do you breathe in these?" She tosses the shirt at you next and you glare when you see all the mesh involved. "My tits are gonna be out."

"No they won't. There's material sewn in so there no nip slips. You'll just be showing off the perfect amount of skin."

"I hate you." You strip off your shirt, turning around and stripping off your bra as well. You pull the long sleeve shirt on, frowning when you realize there's only a single band of material that wraps around your breasts. Everything else is see through. "I seriously hate you."

"Yeah well you're about to hate me more."

Toni quickly grabs up your discarded clothing and books it out of the bathroom, you lunging after her. She laughs as she makes a break for the exit and you freeze right before you can enter the main part of the diner. Through the windows you can see her stashing your clothes in the bag on her bike and you mumble threats at her as she re-enters the diner, walking towards the boys.

You've worn a couple of risqué outfits in front of your friends by now, but the shirt makes you feel really exposed. So after gathering your wits, and wishing you could just disappear in a swirl of flames, you march out from behind the wall and towards your friends. Sweet Pea is the first to see you and his eyes widen before they glance up and down your form. Jughead and Toni turn around in their seats, Jug's eyes widening before he laughs and Toni snapping a few photos on her phone. You pout at them as you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm ready to go now. Toni's clothes and I do not mix."

Sweet Pea seems to snap out of his stupor long enough to stand up and shed his jacket, then draping it over your shoulders. You exhale in relief and quickly shove your arms through the sleeves, smiling up at him until Toni coos and your gaze darts to her. If looks could kill, your friend would be seriously maimed.

"So are you guys ready for the Whyte Wyrm?" Jughead asks. "Fangs texted that he's on the way there right now."

"Sure, but we're swinging by my house first so I can get back into my own clothes."

"Do we have to?" Sweet Pea's voice rumbles directly above you. "I'm kind of into this look you have going on right now."

You freeze and glance upward, reaching out to poke his chest. "Don't press your luck, Sweets. Now come on. You're driving me."

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckles and follows after you.

Jughead and Toni watch as their friends leave, grinning at the sight of their friend swamped in Sweet Pea's serpent jacket. "Is it just me or is Sweet Pea seriously sweet on the devil's daughter?"

Toni chuckles. "That's nothing. You should see the way they sleep when we spend the night down in the theatre. You would think Y/N would be wrapped around him, but nope. Sweet Pea uses Y/N as his personal pillow and practically glares Fangs to death every time Lucifer brings up orgies."

Jughead's laugh falters. "O-Orgies?"

"Yeah. Apparently they're part of the norm down in Hell. I'm pretty sure Lucifer is gonna give Pea a heart attack one of these days if he keeps mentioning Y/N having her first one."

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Life with the devil and his daughter just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"Preaching to the choir, Jug."

You're at home, alone for a change, and making yourself something to eat. Every now and then you just needed a day or two for yourself to decompress and it was something that your new friends seemed to understand. Especially since the Ghoulies started to push back, something having changed within their ranks and making them that much more cocky, and you had your hands full with them. But thankfully, they couldn't reclaim the school.

You manage to eat at least half a plate pasta when your cell rings, the unknown number making you frown. You take a sip of water before answering.

"Hello?"

"Y/N?" Toni's voice wavers over the line. "You need to get down to the hospital."

"Hospital?" You sit a little straighter in your seat. "What happened?"

"It's Jughead." She says. "The Ghoulies and Penny beat him. It's not good, Y/N."

The blood in your veins runs cold. You mind blanks before rage seeps in. "They what?" You seethe.

"FP's a mess. And they also stabbed Fangs, but it's nothing serious. And Sweet Pea-"

"What did they do to Sweet Pea?"

"He's fine." She's quick to assure you. "He's the least injured with a busted lip and bruised eye. He's more pissed and worried about Jug and Fangs right now."

You can feel your body trembling. "Toni, is there anyone around you right now?"

"No. The payphone was down some deserted hallway."

"Good. Give me a few seconds and I'll be right there." You hang up on her, pushing up from your chair and rushing down the hall to put on some shoes. You forgo any type of jacket, your cable knit sweater and plaid skirt just going to have to do. You inhale and exhale deeply, closing your eyes and concentrating on Toni. Once you feel like you've sussed her out, you will yourself to be taken to her and the telltale whoosh of flames lets you know they've done their job. When your eyes open, Toni's staring wide-eyed at you. "Take me to the boys."

Toni numbly nods, turning around and rushing down the hall. You're fast on her heels, your rage still boiling beneath the surface. Especially when you're led to the waiting room where your dad casually sits in a chair and FP paces in front of him. Archie Andrews and Betty Cooper are a few chairs down, and Sweet Pea is not far from them.

You completely pass up your dad and FP, heading straight for Sweet Pea. When he sees you, he attempts to stand but you catch his face in your hands and gently cradle it to examine his wounds. "What happened?"

"Ghoulies," he mumbles. His hands come up to wrap around your wrists, trying to smile reassuringly at you, but then flinching when his split lip stretches. "And Penny. She's back and out for your blood."

"She's dead," you murmur.

Sweet Pea's eyes widen. "Y/N-"

"Don't." You meet his gaze and you can see the concern there. You offer him a feeble smile in return, leaning down and pressing your lips to his forehead. "She will not get away with touching what is mine. She's dead."

As you pull back to make sure he understands you're being serious, you see him gulp and tersely nod. You drop your hands and step back from him, and he's quick to stand. Towering over you, he reaches down and grabs your hand within his own. He seems almost nervous about his move, but you merely squeeze his hand in response and lead him towards FP. Your dad stands as you pass him this time, joining you, Sweet Pea, and the elder Jones in the corner of the waiting room.

"I am so sorry, FP," you tell him.

He glances at you, eyes red-rimmed as he smoothes his hair back with one hand. "Not your fault, kid. I should have known Penny wouldn't have been kept at bay so easily. Or that she'd sit idly by as Lucifer took up Ghoulie territory."

You shake your head at him. "Penny doesn't know what we're truly capable of- she only thinks we're good with our fists and blades. She doesn't know that by touching my boys, she just signed her death certificate."

FP blinks at you as Lucifer chuckles. "Ding dong the witch is dead."

"So dead," you quietly seethe. Glancing up at Sweet Pea, you say, "I need you to take me to where they're laying low."

"I'm not taking you directly to them. It's you they're after, Y/N. Penny knew the only way to make you a loose cannon was to attack those closest to you."

"I am not a loose cannon, Pea. I am focused." You squeeze his hand. "I've never been this focused before, but if you won't take me I'll just get my dad to suss her out and you'll miss all the action."

"We'll take you," FP says. "I wanna be there for her downfall."

"And the Ghoulies," you tell him. "Whoever laid a finger on the boys are all going down."

Sweet Pea sighs. "You're gonna be the death of me." Lucifer full blown smirks and FP cracks a grin at the serpent in distress. "Fine. We'll take you, but you're riding with me."

And if they didn't think you were serious before, they know now seeing as you didn't make a joke about riding with FP like you normally would have given the chance.

Toni steps up to the group then, FP grasping her by the shoulder and leaning in to murmur, "Stay with Jug. We'll be back." She looks at you, but you subtly shake your head and she takes a seat in one of the waiting room chairs.

Hand in hand, you and Sweet Pea stalk out of the hospital with FP at your side. Lucifer decides to hang back as well, saying he's just going to check on Jughead as soon as he can and jumpstart the boy's healing process.

On the back of Pea's bike, you hang on to his waist and let the wind whip at your face and hair. Your rage at Penny and the Ghoulies has overcome you, that not even the sting of the cold air or cold drizzle is enough to faze you. It's about a ten minute ride to the clearing and by the time you get there your rage has made you eerily calm. The bikes are shut off and off in the distance, just beyond a bridge, there are several barrels emitting flames. As you climb off, FP and Sweet Pea stand on either side of you as they glance around your surroundings.

"Whatever you see, let it happen. I won't be responsible for what happens if anyone tries to interfere with what I'm doing."

The both of them mumble their acknowledgements and then you're walking. The clearing seems void of any life, but then the blonde bitch you watched Maze beat down and threaten over a month ago saunters out from between the trees. And she's not alone. About ten to fifteen Ghoulies come out from between the trees behind her and spread out.

"Tall Boy?" You glance at FP and follow his gaze, frowning at the semi-familiar Serpent standing with Penny Peabody.

"Told you going after the Jones kid would bring the little bitch out." Tall Boy chuckles and Penny looks like Christmas has come early.

"What the hell, man?!" Sweet Pea shouts. "You sent the Snake Charmer and her junkie little lap dogs after us? Serpents don't betray Serpents!"

"That's rich coming from you, boy." He huffs. Tall Boy points at FP as he says, "He teamed up with outsiders and practically lets them have free reign of the Whyte Wyrm."

"And don't forget he let his little lap dogs take me out of town and cut me up," Penny says. "But now I'm back, better than ever, and I'm out for blood. That," she points directly at you, "little bitch's blood to be exact."

Sweet Pea steps forward in your defense, but you grab his arm and pull him back. FP steps up to your side again, clearly not letting Tall Boy's betrayal go. "So what? Say you do take out Lucifer and Y/N. What is that going to solve? You're out Tall Boy. Exiled. You have no home here. Not anymore."

He shrugs. "Well then I guess I'll take out their king and rule the Serpents myself."

"I'd like to see you try." Everyone glances at you, your too calm tone seeming out of place for the current confrontation taking place. "Let's go, Tall Boy. You and me. Right here, right now."

"Uh, Y/N?" Sweet Pea says.

You step forward, gaze set on the Serpent in question. "What's wrong, Tall Boy? Are you afraid of a little girl?"

Tall Boy, Penny, and all the hopped up Ghoulies laugh, and you step forward. Tall Boy meets you halfway, grinning. "As soon as I'm done with you, my boys are gonna carve up your boys and then I'm gonna make a quick trip down to the hospital and finish what we started with Jughead."

"Oh Tall Boy," you mockingly smile. "Shut the fuck up."

He lunges forward to grab you, but you're quick to duck into a crouch and send your fist flying into his groin. You slide to the right and kick in the back of his knee, then sweeping his legs out from under him. You slap a hand down on his forehead, Tall Boy's screams resonating around the clearing as he convulses beneath your hand. You glance up and meet Penny's gaze head on. Her eyes widen and you sneer at her, and then you look back down at Tall Boy as you release him.

"Exile is too good for the likes of you," you say as he tries to scramble to his feet. On his forehead, there appears to be three claw marks branded there. "So I want you to run like the hounds of hell are after you, Tall Boy. Because they will be." As if on cue, eerie howls rip through the air and you slowly stand tall. Everyone tenses and glances around, but only Tall Boy seems to be staring at something that only he can see. You glance over your shoulder, grinning as two hellhounds step out from the shadows and brush up against FP and Sweet Pea. The two of them freeze and shift to the side, and you beckon the hellhounds closer to you. They stand at your side, under your palms, and you grin at Tall Boy. "Run, Tall Boy. My babies are hungry."

The hellhounds snarl as Tall Boy turns around to run and you click your tongue a minute later to let the hounds loose. Tall Boy can be heard screaming deep into the windows and you smile innocently at Penny and all the Ghoulies. A Ghoulie steps forward, taking Tall Boy's place next to Penny. His wild and curly hair hangs to his shoulders, and black coal is smeared across his eyes which seem a little too wide for any sober person.

"One down," you muse. "Who's next?"

"What the hell did you do to Tall Boy?" Penny seethes. She steps forward and you smile at her.

"Penny, Penny, Penny," you tut. "You're in no position to be asking questions." Your smile drops as your gaze hardens. "You should have listened and stayed out of Riverdale."

"Who the hell do you think you are, little girl?"

"Why I'm the queen of hell, of course." You smile innocently as lightning suddenly forks across the sky and everyone ducks on instinct. Penny and her ghoulish companion look up before they glance warily back at you, and you smirk. "Now kneel." A moment of silence passes before Penny and her friends laugh. Your smirk drops. "I said kneel!" You snap your fingers and everyone standing across from you falls to their knees. They glance around wildly, not knowing why they listened.

You stalk forward, your feet unknowingly leaving behind smoldering prints and lightning flashes ominously across the sky. "You mortals never listen," you seethe, your voice changing and sending chills down everyone's spine. "And now I'm going to finish what Mazikeen should have done the first time around."

Penny spits at your feet. "Screw you. You don't have what it takes to play with the adults, sweetheart."

"No?" You walk forward until you're just in front of Penny, reaching out and walking your fingers along her forehead until she jerks out of reach. "I command a legion of demons, sweetheart," you mock her. "You have no idea what I'm capable of." Penny opens her mouth to no doubt spew some idiot bullshit and you sigh. "Bored now. Bye bye, Snake Charmer." You shove your palm against Penny's forehead, smiling as a glow emits from your palm and seeps into her head.

Her mouth gapes open as she screams, her own eyes and mouth slowly emitting the same glow from your hand before her screams die out and she falls back. Dead.

Her ghoulish companion stares up at you in fear. "What the fuck are you?"

"Don't you listen, Malachi?" You sweetly coo. His eyes subtly widen at you knowing who he is.

"Queen of Hell. Yeah, I got that," he says. Suddenly his resolve seems to harden. "But what you don't seem to know is that you messed with the wrong ghoul. You see, I overthrow royalty." Before you can blink, his arm is raising and you see the glint of a blade a second too late.

The sharpened metal is embedded in your gut and he laughs cruelly.

"Y/N!" Sweet Pea and FP yell.

But you merely stumble back a single step, glancing down at the knife before you grab the hilt and yank it free. Dropping it, you look at Malachi from under your lashes. "That was a very stupid move." He snorts, but before he can say another word you reach forward with both hands and twist his head violently to the side.

As you glance up at the rest of the Ghoulies, you're met with fearful stares. You want to make each and every one of them suffer, every single face staring up at you guilty for having taken part in putting Jug and Fangs in the hospital. Stalking towards the first Ghoulie, you ignore their whimpers and press a single finger to the middle of their forehead. "Death is too harsh at the moment for the lot of you," you say. The Ghoulie beneath your finger screams before passing out, he falling limp to the ground. "So live your life to the fullest," you say as you touch the next one, "because the moment you cease to live, your soul will be dragged to Hell where you'll be tortured over and over and over again." At the next Ghoulie, you chuckle. "You really shouldn't have touched what was mine."

One by one, the Ghoulies fall unconscious under your hand. The clearing is littered with unconscious junkies, and by the time you turn around FP and Sweet Pea are a lot closer than they were earlier. FP is staring at you like he can't believe what he's just seen, but Sweet Pea's gaze is set on your abdomen where your blood has soaked through your sweater. You glance down, pressing your hand to your wound and then bringing your hand away soaked with blood.

"Oh. Well that's not good." You stumble backwards, but hands are quick to catch you before you can fall. Looking up at your savior, you smile shakily at the boy who had quickly won over your affections. "Hey Pea."

"Hey." His own smile is shaky as well, but the concern is clear as day. "You put on quite the show there, babe. What the hell did you do to the Ghoulies?"

"N-Nothing. Just branded their souls for a f-future trip down to Hell. And I made them forget what they'd seen here so they can't tell anyone."

FP comes up to your side then, grinning. "Smart move, Morningstar. Now come on. Let's get you to the hospital. We need to get you checked out."

Your teeth chatter as you nod. "O-Okay."

You gasp as Sweet Pea literally sweeps you off your feet, one arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your upper back as he walks you towards his bike. Instead of reprimanding him for the sudden movement, you lean your head against his chest and let your eyes fall shut. Gosh, you're so sleepy.

"Hey. Y/N, wake up."

"M'tired."

"I know, babe, but you still need to keep your eyes open."

"Five more minutes."

Sweet Pea sighs. "If you don't open up your eyes, you're gonna miss a shirtless FP."

Your nose wrinkles and a moment passes before you crack open one eye. "You're a dirty rotten liar, Pea."

His upper body shakes with his quiet laughter. "Did you really just open one eye to see if I was telling the truth?"

"I'm injured. Don't mock me."

"You're right. I'm sorry," he muses. "Now come on. I really need you to open your eyes. You need to be alert so you don't fall off the back of my bike."

You groan. "Fine. But when I fall asleep at the hospital, you're not allowed to wake me up."

"Deal."

The steady beeping of a machine is what wakes you, your eyelids feeling too heavy to open. You try turning your head the other way, but the beeping continues and it makes you frown. You manage to flutter your eyelids open, blinking a few times until your vision focuses. The first person you see is Sweet Pea, the boy in question sitting in a chair with his head tilted back and mouth agape. You can hear faint snores coming from him and it makes you smile.

You turn your head the other way, smile blossoming at the two sleeping figures of Toni and Fangs.

"So Sleeping Beauty finally wakes." The gruff voice startles you and you have to pick your head up to see where it's coming from. Across the room from you, in a bed of his own, is a severely bruised Jughead who's eating a cup of green jello. "The bed remote is to your right if you wanna sit up."

You turn to your right, spotting the remote hanging from the bed railing and make a grab for it. Figuring out which button is which, you press the correct one to lift the upper half of your bed. You cringe as you do so, head throbbing suddenly. "How- how long was I out?"

"According to my dad, you've been out for three and half days. I woke up two days ago so I heard all about the craziness that went down the night I was brought in."

"Oh." You glance around, frowning. "Do, uh, do you know where my dad's at?"

"He's been in and out. The three stooges around you haven't given up their seats since you were put in here, so he said to call him when you woke up. I texted him while you were ogling Sweet Pea in his sleep."

"I wasn't-" You pause, sighing as Jughead chuckles. "Whatever." Glancing around again, you say, "What does a girl gotta do to get some food in here?"

As if on cue, the door bangs open and both you and Jughead flinch. Toni, Fangs, and Sweet Pea all startle awake. In walks your father, bags from Pop's in hand, and behind him FP walks in with two trays of drinks.

"You," Lucifer points out, "darling daughter, have a lot of explaining to do."

It's then your friends notice that you're up and awake, and you brace yourself as Toni and Fangs practically climb atop your bed.

"Will you be careful, you dumbasses!" Sweet Pea barks. "She just woke up."

"She just woke up," Fangs mocks him, earning a punch to the back.

You laugh, flinching when Toni's arm lays across your abdomen. Thankfully she notices and quickly readjusts her position, not moving from your side. Fangs, however, gets pulled from your other side and Sweet Pea carefully takes his spot. He maneuvers his arm so it's behind your and Toni's heads.

Glancing up at your dad, you accept the bag of food he holds out to you as he asks, "When exactly did your powers fully manifest? FP and Sweet Pea told me what they witnessed, and a sudden show of power like that is what kept you asleep so long. As well as the blood loss. You completely exhausted yourself."

You shift nervously under everyone's sudden gaze. "I, uh, it's all been slowly manifesting over the past couple of weeks. But then hearing about Jughead, it kind of sped up the process in one fell swoop and well.. FP and Pea saw how that ended."

Lucifer tuts. "You're lucky you didn't kill yourself. You know better than to use so much power while still untrained."

"I know," you mumble. You make quick work of digging into the bag that's resting in your lap, pulling out a burger and unwrapping it. You immediately take a bite, groaning as the taste explodes across your tongue. "Can you lecture me later? I feel like I can eat ten of these."

Your dad wrinkles his nose. "Your mortal side is showing. Swallow before you speak."

"That's what he said," Toni mumbles.

You choke on your food and Sweet Pea immediately starts hitting your back in a panic. Eventually your airway clears and you glare at Toni who's smiling innocently at you. "You're a bitch." She laughs, but then your attention is stolen by FP whose handing you a drink. You grin gratefully at him as you suck up some ice cold Cola through the straw. "I hope I didn't leave you a mess to deal with."

"You didn't." He smirks. "I put in an anonymous tip to sheriff Keller about some Ghoulies who'd looked like they overdosed. I also might have told him they were also the ones involved with Jughead's beating. They ain't getting out anytime soon."

"Good."

Everyone makes themselves comfortable around the shared room, FP sitting next to his son's bed while Lucifer sits next to yours, but Toni and Sweet Pea have you squished between them on the bed while Fangs sits in an empty chair.

You manage to eat three burgers, two cartons of fries, and siphon down three cups of Cola when you notice all eyes are on you. Immediately you can feel the flush burning up the sides of your neck and up to your face. Leaning back, you push the rest of the food away and curl in towards Sweet Pea as the room's occupants start to laugh.

"So are you gonna share those burgers or you gonna wolf down every single one?" Jughead muses.

"Don't mock me. You're lucky I even left anything." Fangs chuckles at your pout and gets up, grabbing up the bags from your lap. He takes a burger for himself before walking the food across the room, and you grin as Jughead immediately digs in. FP can only shake his head at his son as Jughead groans in delight. "So," you say as you glance at your dad, "what happens now?"

"Now you heal," Lucifer says. "However, when you're all better we need to take a trip to Hell." Sweet Pea tightens his hold around your shoulders and you quickly glance up at him, smiling softly to reassure him everything would be fine. "I'm just about done with business here on the mortal plane, so we need to transfer roles back down in Hell."

"Ugh. Do I have to stay for the party? Your creepy minions are gonna try to bed me again."

"Well if you'd show up with a consort on your arm you wouldn't have that problem."

You frown. "You know damn well if I show up with a mortal in Hell it'll be chaos."

"But what fun chaos it'll be," Lucifer smirks.

"Hold up," Toni says. "Consort?"

Your dad's smirk widens and you sigh. "For some reason, dad wants me to take a boyfriend. Or husband. He's not picky."

"What!?" She laughs.

"Yeah. He's got his money on Sweet Pea just because he's tall and intimidating." Sweet Pea suddenly chokes and everyone in the room laughs at him. You grin at him, poking him on his side. "Relax. There are no wedding bells in any of our immediate futures. And besides," you say as you let yourself relax into Sweet Pea's side once more, fatigue suddenly overcoming you, "the elite of Hell only approve of a wedding if it's officiated in Hell. And quite frankly, no one I choose will ever step foot down there if I have anything to say about it."

"Wait. Hold on," Jughead says. "Are you saying you can get us in and out of Hell, and you haven't done so?"

FP scoffs. "Don't even think about it, kid."

You grin at Jughead's affronted expression, letting your eyelids fall shut. "We are not taking field trips down to Hell. Now everyone shush. M'sleepy."

It took you a few days before your dad deemed you well enough to visit Hell, making sure you did not show any form of vulnerability in front of the others. So you rested at home during the day and spent your evenings entertaining your friends who wanted to know all about Hell and how long you'd be away. But the truth was, you didn't even know yourself.

So when you and your dad finally left for Hell, you hadn't anticipated just how long you'd be there. You did anticipate, however, several demons being happy over the transfer of power. And that several others would swoop in in hopes of courting you. All of which you happily declined.

Your dad's coronation lasted a full day and you lost track of time after the second day of partying. You caught up with what few companions you actually had in Hell, ate, drank, and danced. It felt like only a couple of days had passed before you decided you'd been there long enough and sought out your father, only for him to happily send you on your way with promises that you'd visit every month. You had waved him off before going back to your rooms to change into regular clothing, and then let a swirl of flames whisk you away.

Reappearing in your house, you glance around happily until you notice it's not quite as you left it. The lights and TV, which had been turned off prior to leaving, are now on and the more you linger in the same spot it's easier to hear the noises coming from the kitchen. Quietly heading in that direction, you stop short at the sight of FP and Jughead preparing what appears to be their dinner.

"Um, hi?"

Jughead and FP's attention immediately snap to you, and Jughead quickly rounds the kitchen island. "Y/N, you're back!"

"Of course I am." You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, returning his embrace as you grin at FP over Jug's shoulder. "I told you I'd be back as soon as possible."

Jughead pulls back from you, hands on your shoulders as he keeps you at arm's length. "I know, but we thought you meant like three days tops, not two weeks!"

"What?"

You look at FP and he nods. "Sorry, babygirl, but he's telling the truth."

Your mind briefly short circuits at the nickname and you glance at Jug, smile slowly blooming. "Your dad called me-"

"Don't."

You laugh as FP snorts, shaking his head at you. "Only joking. I haven't done that in two week apparently," you say. You reach up to pat one of Jughead's hands on your shoulders and he releases. Walking over to one of the stools lined along the kitchen island, you take a seat. "And besides, you know I have my eyes on a certain tall Serpent friend of yours."

"Speaking of which," FP then says as he leans across the counter across from you, "you better text him. He's been bugging us nonstop to see if we heard from you or not."

"I will." Jughead offers you a bottle of water which you accept. "I just- I need to decompress for a little bit. Socializing in Hell kind of took it out of me."

"Well you can always join us for dinner." Jughead looks so hopeful that you actually feel a little bit bad turning him down.

"Sorry, JJ. I've been eating nonstop for days. I kind of just want to sleep it off."

"Oh. Okay sure."

"But before I head upstairs, can I just ask what you guys are doing here?"

Jughead looks like a deer in headlights at the question, so FP takes over. "Lucifer wanted us to keep an eye on the place while you were gone. Said we could crash here if we needed to and our trailer went under renovations two days ago."

"Oh. Okay." You smile at them. "Well you guys are always welcome here no matter what and just because I'm back it doesn't mean you have to leave. I welcome the company," you say. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sleep my dad's coronation off."

"We'll keep your return under wraps, but if anyone stops by we won't lie to them."

"That's fine," you tell Jughead.

After drinking some more of your water, you decide to head upstairs. In the privacy of your room you decide to quickly change into some sleepwear before crawling into the comfort of your own bed.

Sleep finds you fairly quickly and you're not quite sure how long you've been asleep when you're suddenly awoken. The sky is completely pitch black outside your window and the house is eerily quiet. You figure it must be very early morning so it's no use getting up now, but just as your eyes close once more the sound of a chair creaking has your eyes flying open.

On your stomach, you immediately push yourself up until you're sitting on your knees and glancing around your room. "Hey. Hey, you're okay."

Your lamp clicks on and you cringe away from the sudden brightness, only to slowly open your eyes and be met with the concerned expression of possibly your favorite Serpent. "Pea?"

He grins. "The one and only."

"What are- what are you doing here?" You crawl towards the edge of the bed closest to him, sitting down so your feet touch the ground.

"Stopped by for some dinner earlier and Jughead told me you were back. FP took pity on me and let me stay until you woke up."

"So you- you watched me sleep?" Sweet Pea's smile slowly falls as yours grows. "That's kind of creepy, Pea."

"Well I didn't- I didn't know-"

You quickly lean forward, one hand gripping the armrest of the chair to hold you up and the other cradling the side of Sweet Pea's face as you angle it towards yours. You gently brush your lips against his just to test the waters before you pull back just an inch, your eyes fluttering open to gauge his reaction. Sweet Pea blinked owlishly at you before his eyes darted over every inch of your face, lastly settling on your lips as his hands came up to cradle your face and bring you back in.

Smiling against his lips, you allow him a moment of control, letting yourself get briefly carried away in one another. You nip at his bottom lip and when he groans you peck the corner of his mouth before falling back onto the edge of your bed. You lick your bottom lip before biting it sheepishly, eyes shining at a clearly distracted Sweet Pea.

"I'm not gonna lie. I've been wanting to do that for a really long time."

Gathering his wits once more, Sweet Pea scoffs. "You mean to tell me we could have been doing this since the beginning?"

"Well yeah. But I didn't wanna come off as easy."

"You.. easy? Yeah right," he chuckles. Slowly, he sobers up. "But, uh, your dad's not gonna be a problem. Right?"

You shake your head. "Nah. Believe it or not, Lucifer's a cool dad. He doesn't care what I do or who I do it with so long as it's consensual."

He seems to blanch just a little. "Of course. Always."

"Then we're good." You flash him a small smile as you scoot back into bed, tossing the blanket over your legs. "Now will you come to sleep rather than watching over me? I wasn't lying when I said it was weird." Sweet Pea readily stands to strip out of his jacket, laying it across the chair as he toes off his boots. When he starts to walk to the other side of your bed, you say, "Feel free to sleep sans jeans, but only if you're wearing underwear."

Sweet Pea smirks at you as he slowly unbuckles his belt, sliding it out of his jean's loops before tossing that on his jacket as well. You roll your eyes as he unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall, haphazardly kicking them aside before crawling into your bed.

"If that was an attempt to seduce me, you're really terrible at it." He laughs as he lays on his back, you grabbing his arm and picking it up so you can lay close to him. You're on your side, head on his shoulder and arm around his waist. "But you still get an A for effort."

"I wasn't even trying, sweetheart. If I was to seduce you, you'd know it."

"Mhm. I'm sure. Now close your eyes. I have a feeling everyone's gonna be here later on."

          - - - - - - - - - - 

"Do- do we wake them?"

"No, you idiot, let them sleep."

A sigh. "This is going to be a regular thing now, isn't it?"

You slowly smile, the voices of Fangs, Toni, and Jughead waking you up. "You're damn straight this is going to be a regular thing." Your eyes open and you grin. "I'm going to be climbing this like a tree every chance I get." The chest beneath your cheek rumbles with sleepy laughter. You yawn, stretching at Sweet Pea's side before slowly sitting up. "What time is it?"

"Almost ten," Jughead says. "Dad was going to wake you for breakfast, but he saw you and Sweet Pea and figured he'd let you sleep."

"FP is officially my second favorite Serpent," you say. With his eyes still closed, Sweet Pea smiles and you roll your eyes at his smugness. "I hope you guys have nothing planned. I just want to relax and go to school like a normal person for a few days. I'm all partied out."

"Whatever you want, girl." Toni tells you. "We're just glad you're finally back."

"You and me both."

Over the next few days, your group of friends grow used to the fact that you and Sweet Pea have officially become a thing. Neither of you are fond of the terms boyfriend/girlfriend since it sounds kind of juvenile, but you don't correct anyone when they use that particular label. As far as the two of you are concerned, you are his and he is yours, and that's enough for the two of you.

Another change that seems to have happened is at the Whyte Wyrm, your presence being a great deal more tolerated. You know no one other than a select few knew of your true heritage, so you figure one of your friends name dropped the pet name Princess and now the other Serpents boldly greet you as such, especially FP who takes great delight in calling you that once he realizes you find it annoying.

You're happy you don't have Queenly duties niggling at the back of your mind and that you can just be as normal as you can be with your friends. There are a few instances in which your powers come in handy, but you don't use them as often as you thought you would. Then as the days slowly progress and the weather turns chillier, you find that Sweet Pea is a constant presence in your home. His trailer had been updated, but while he's grateful for it he much prefers coming home to you and your house.

You and Sweet Pea are sleeping down in the basement, the lounging sofa being more comfortable for him to sleep in since he was so tall. You've already ordered a new bed, but for now the two of you happily camp down in the theatre while you wait for your bed to come in.

The doorbell ringing pulls you from your dreams and an arm tightens around your waist. Sleep starts to pull you back under seconds later until the doorbell rings again and you quietly groan.

"Don't answer it," Sweet Pea mumbles. "They'll go away."

You press back into his chest, yawning and willing yourself to fall back asleep. But whoever's at the front door is insistent and the doorbell rings for a third time. "I'm going to smite them," you grumble. "Smite them and then blissfully come back to sleep." Sweet Pea chuckles at your threat, but though you're getting annoyed for having had your sleep interrupted you don't actually do anything about it.

Seconds seem to pass and when the doorbell doesn't ring again you let your body start to relax once more. Sweet Pea curls even more against your back and you chuckle softly at the fact that one of the Serpent's most intimidating secretly loves to cuddle.

And then just as you're fully relaxing and being pulled back under, there are footsteps coming down the staircase. "I knew I'd find you guys down here."

You and Sweet Pea both groan, Jughead's amused laughter making you open your eyes and glare at the teen in question. Betty Cooper is standing just behind him, glancing around your home theatre in wonder, but you bite your tongue on questioning her presence since you know full well that she and Jughead were more stable than they've ever been.

"If you know what's best for you, JJ, you'd walk away."

"It's three in the afternoon, Y/N. You should have been awake hours ago."

"We had a late night."

"First off, ew." His nose wrinkles at you and Sweet Pea, and you, Sweet Pea, and Betty grin at Jughead's comment. "And secondly, dad sent me. We're having a meeting."

Sweet Pea seems to take those words seriously and you whine when he moves to get up. He chuckles, quickly kissing your temple and then turning to crawl out of the comfort of the sofa. You sigh. "And why, pray tell, is my presence needed?"

Jughead smirks. "You'll see."

His vague answer is enough to get you moving, you grumbling all the while. On your way upstairs, you hit Jughead with your shoulder and then smile innocently at Betty while telling her to help herself to whatever's in the kitchen while you and Sweet Pea get ready.

You and Sweet Pea take the quickest showers you've ever taken, separately, and meet Jughead and Betty in the kitchen. Sweet Pea is pulling on his jacket and you're tying your hair up into a ponytail, grinning at Jughead who has a plate of sandwiches in front of him. "So what's the deal, Jones?"

He shrugs. "M'just under orders to bring you to the quarry."

You glance at Betty and she chuckles. "I just came along for the ride. Jughead's actually dropping me off before you go to the meeting."

"I feel like I should be scared nervous, but I'm actually excited nervous." You muse. "I mean, daddy Jones-"

"God you're so gross," Jughead groans. You wink at Betty as Jughead turns to Sweet Pea. "How are you okay with your girl fawning over my dad?"

"Because everyone, including FP, knows it gets under your skin and it's fun to watch your squirm."

You look at Betty and grin. "Have I told you about the time FP called me babygirl?"

"And we're leaving!" Jughead is quick to latch onto his laughing girlfriend's wrist, tugging her out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

You turn towards Sweet Pea, wrapping your arms around his waist as you lean up on your tiptoes to play a chaste kiss to his lips. "I absolutely adore you. Now come on. Let's go see what the boss wants."

Sweet Pea pecks your lips twice more before you fall back flat on your feet, then making your way towards the hall closet. Inside, you pull free a jean jacket and quickly pull it on while Sweets grabs both your helmets. The two of you head outside to see Betty already hanging onto the back of Jughead. You and Sweet Pea readily climb onto his bike, you tucking yourself as close as you can to his back while he follows Jughead towards Betty's house.

Then once Betty's hopped off and heading towards her front door, Jughead signals for Sweet Pea to follow and you're on your way once more. The part of the quarry Jughead leads you to is not familiar to you and you're surprised to see the entire Serpent clan hanging around. And as you climb off the bike, waiting for Sweet Pea who takes your hand and then starts leading you towards your friends, you glance around to take in your surroundings.

A wooden walkway leads down to a boathouse just on the water, trucks and motorcycles parked all around. There are a couple of tapped kegs and barrels of fire scattered about. Between two wooden poles, a Serpent banner hangs just behind some stacked wooden pallets that FP hops up onto.

FP whistles, gaining everyone's attention. "Listen up now!" Some music that had been playing is lowered and everyone turns towards their leader. "I know some of you have recently had your opinions about the way I was running things with the Serpents." Some people boo and FP chuckles, instantly calming them. "Our image has never been as clean as it should have been and certain events led a few of us to make decisions that could have had repercussions against all of us." Some very brave individuals glance at Jughead and you glare at them until they look away. "But then an old friend of mine swooped in and changed everything." At this, some nervously glance at you.

"Some sixty years ago, the very first Serpent meeting took place on these same river banks. So I find it fitting that we meet here to introduce a new snake to the den." Everyone cheers this time, including you, though your amusement falls when FP meets your gaze head on. You freeze. Surely he's not talking about- "You all know about Penny, the Ghoulies, and Tall Boy attacking three of our own- my boy included. What you don't know is that girl," he points directly at you, "that girl right there is who took a knife to the gut avenging us. So Y/N Morningstar, come on up here."

Sweet Pea, Jughead, Toni, and Fangs start the whooping and hollering until the rest of the Serpents all join in. You're gripping tight to Sweet Pea's hand as he starts to drag you towards FP's platform, you nervously grinning at the Serpents who part down the middle to give you a path.

At the makeshift stage, Sweet Pea then nudges you up there and you chuckle nervously as you stand next to FP. He smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close while addressing the crowd again. "The Morningstars, while some of you were against it at first, helped clean up the Serpent image and helped improve the Southside when even our own mayor had given up on us. They've been a tremendous help to us and it all started with an act of kindness from one of the Serpents which then led to my release. So with that said, Jughead will you come on up and do the honors?"

You look out at Jughead, brow furrowing as Toni smirks at you while handing a duffel bag over to the boy in question. He unzips it, pulling free what looks to be a cherry red leather jacket. He holds it, scrunched up in one hand, as he makes his way to the platform. "What's going on?" You mutter.

FP releases you just as Jughead takes his place by your side. He's smiling as he inhales deeply, letting out it loudly before addressing the rest of the Serpents. "When Lucifer left, he asked my dad and I to look after his precious little princess." You scoff, punching Jughead's arm much to everyone's amusement. "And I know some of you are going to say that that's why we've decided to welcome Y/N into the Serpents, but the reason why we're welcoming Y/N into the fold is because she earned her place. She took a knife for us and got rid of our enemies once and for all. I don't know about you, but to my dad and I that makes her worthy of being a Serpent."

Sweet Pea is the first to whoop, followed by the rest of your friends and the crowd of Serpents lingering about.

"So what do you say, Morningstar? Will you don the Serpent jacket and put the fear of the devil into any person who dares smear the name of your brethren?" He asks while grabbing the cherry red jacket with both hands and shaking it open.

You smirk at him, already stripping out of your jean jacket. "As if you even had to ask."

You toss your jacket to Sweet Pea and stand in front of Jughead, placing your arms into the sleeves one at a time. It fits perfectly, Toni's doing no doubt, and you laugh openly at the roar of applause. Turning around, you hug Jughead and then walk over towards FP to offer him the same embrace.

"Who picked the color?" You ask.

"Who do you think?" He muses.

"Dad."

FP releases you with a grin, nudging you towards your friends. "Go on. We'll be celebrating tonight at the Whyte Wyrm."

You offer him one of your genuine smiles instead of the teasing one you usually reserve for him. "Thanks, FP. For everything."

"No problem, kiddo. Now seriously, go. Go have a burger and a shake at Pop's with your friends."

As you turn to hop off the platform, Toni is the first to wrap you up in a hug. "Welcome to the club! You're seriously lucky you didn't have to do the dance."

"I'd have seriously gouged someone's eye out if anyone suggested I do the dance to earn my place."

She laughs and then Fangs takes her place, you hugging him back. Then finally Sweet Pea is standing in front of you and he laughs as you jump into his arms.

"Happy, princess?"

"Ecstatic," you muse as you wrap your legs around his waist. His hands find your ass, supporting your weight as you quickly lean in to kiss him. More cheers erupt all around you, you and Sweet Pea smile against each other's mouths, and Jughead gags behind you. Pulling back, you lay your forehead against his. "Wanna grab some food or go properly celebrate at home before tonight's party at the Wyrm?"

"How about we hit up Pop's for burgers to go, burn off some calories before consuming them right back in the comfort of our own home, and then go to the Wyrm?"

"I like the way you think, Pea. Let's go."

You kiss him once more, Toni cheering you on as Sweet Pea carries you off.

"Just please don't contaminate the basement!" Jughead yells out. "I actually like it down there!"

You wave him off over your shoulder, grinning at Pea. "Who's going to tell him he's a few weeks too late? Me or you?"

"I wanna tell him when he least expects it. Probably when he's laying on the sofa and being a little shit."

"Deal."

[lovebarelyhuman]

Mission Colorado Pt. 1

Pairing: Sister! OC x Sam, Sister! OC x Dean

Summary: Sam, Dean, and their eldest sister -- Evelynn Winchester (or Lynn for short) set out to find their father, who went missing on a hunt. I rewrote episode one of SPN to bring you the third Winchester sibling :)

Warnings: Light fighting scene

Word Count: 2,436 (I'm so sorry for this)

"So this is where Sam's been hiding for the past four years?"

The house was relatively small, but it would have been large enough to suit their brother's liking. Neatly trimmed, sparsely decorated, it screamed Winchester decor all over. John Winchester had never been a man of much calling to decoration, and each of his children likewise.

Both boys had grown to imitate their father, although something about their golden hearts said that they were also a part of Mary Winchester. Out of three children, Lynn Celine Winchester was the eldest. She had been a stark imitation of their mother. Dean was the second in line, his green eyes watching his older sister with half-curiosity and half-admiration. The moment that she had heard the news of their father, she had immediately quit her job and piled her belongings into her brother's Impala, both gearing up to find the final Winchester sibling.

With their father's unhinged mind after he found Mary Winchester dead on the ceiling, Lynn had helped him evacuate. At the time, she had only been eight years old, a scared big sister who did what she could to protect her siblings. Dean was three-and-a-half years younger than she was, barely just five. Sam couldn't have been a year old, his eyes still winched shut.

She had been the first to step into their family business, risking her life every day since.

John Winchester had forced them to grow like soldiers, giving them weapons at a young age to protect themselves from the dark. Lynn had seen firsthand the dangers of the night, and she wasn't going to let her brothers suffer the same fate.

She had gone from the bright-eyed kid to a woman who stood just an inch taller than Dean, fiercer and more dangerous than ever. Her eyebrows were curled in a tight line across her forehead, blonde hair swept into a ponytail with strands framing her face. The leather jacket she wore flexed threateningly under the yellow streetlights, her skin a pale white. It made her blue eyes look even more out of place.

Just twenty-two years after their mother's death, they were rebounding to the business the Winchesters had left for good. They were back -- and they planned to do what they could along the way.

The hot, dry wind whipped over the neighbourhood. Nearby, boards from different houses creaked quietly, the stench of sweat and faint animal shit wafting through the air. It was a neat community, although the backs weren't as well-kept as the front yards. Florals were placed every twenty yards.

At first glance, it was a perfect imitation of a textbook sub-urban house.

What stood out to her most was the damp, rotten smell of a corpse. Underneath the disguise of a few flowers, a trained nose could differentiate the difference between smelly slums and a murder. They would need to check if their little brother was really in trouble. She glanced at Dean, who shared the same expression.

"Break in?" whispered Lynn silently, eyebrow turning up.

"Hell yeah," grinned Dean. Together, they skirted the premises of the house. Vines from a long-gone grape plant twisted around a rusty metal gate, interweaving into a six-foot-tall barbed wire chain link. They smile at the sight -- they had taught their brother well. Vines, although not as harmful as salt, were a great tool in warding hellish creatures. It looked natural at first sight, but both the brother and sister knew better than to underestimate him.

Lynn nudged the gate with a solid foot, testing its firmness. It gave a sudden rattle and lurch, but it should have held her weight. Planting a foot firmly into a square, she uses the wires to hoist herself up before jumping to the ground effortlessly. Dean was a bit less graceful than Lynn at jumping over because of his bulk, but he was nearly silent in his drop. He landed in a roll, straightening his back and patting off the leaves on his beloved clothing. She snickers, "Show-off."

"I'm hurt," he chuckles, taking off the leaves that stuck to his clothes like a magnet. It only takes them several minutes to find the back door, which required a key. She takes the lock-pick set hidden in her pocket, fiddling with the compartments until she finds the exact tools she needs. In seconds, the correct drill bit is sliding into the door without a bare noise. The door swings back, and they take a step in, both hands placed on a gun if needed.

Sam wasn't an idiot, but his skill wasn't the best at fighting. The weapon was just a reminder of what they were really here for. The hall they arrive in is on the first floor. The shaft leads into a tidy kitchen and living room, barely large enough to fit five people in. A coat hanger near the door takes care of their jackets.

"A pretty small place for Sammy," says Dean, inspecting the fridge as he tries to pinpoint a case of beer. Lynn doesn't bother to tell him the beer is on the table, laughing to herself silently. "You sure his head won't hit the ceiling? He's been growing a ton since I last saw him."

"The kid's gonna grow," huffs Lynn. "He's twenty-one. Doesn't even have a life outside of studying yet."

"Thanks for the reminder on how old you are, grandma, but no one asked."

"Shut up," she snorts back. "Do we wake him up? Or do we wait for someone to find us? This house doesn't look like a place for one."

"You think Sammy's found a girlfriend? That's a surprise," snickers Dean. "Wouldn't mind seeing a girl 'round these parts. You know, since every female I've ever met is either a demon or planning on killing me."

"We're gonna have to break the news to him sooner or later," mumbles Lynn, her flashlight clicking on when she rattled it. That was when she heard it -- well-concealed footsteps, just quiet enough to barely alert anyone else. She freezes in place, Dean stopping mid-laugh at his own crappy humour. From the weight, it was only a few rooms away. It was obviously a male's, although she had either severely underestimated her brother's height and build or they had visitors.

Stay on the left of the door, she mouths. Dean quickly fits into place, and she's on the other end of the doorway. The moment that the person steps in, they will be prepared to kill them in case needed. In the lighting, no moonlight filters at this angle. If someone was walking in, it was a gamble of hurting her brother or seriously injure hurt an enemy. Either way, she isn't planning to back down. Just as they thought, the sound is closer. It is the barest of clicks on the floor that indicate the location, and it steps into the living room just a moment later.

A man that Lynn assumes is around six feet tall is searching for the intruder. He is broad as he is tall, and Lynn doesn't know if she can easily take him by herself. If she is right, the man has caught sight of them in the same way they have seen them. Already sensing the attack, she throws the first punch.

It collides with what she thinks is a rock-solid bicep. The man was slower in his earlier advances, but now he seems to have caught the pace. He aims directly for the spot that Lynn was in a moment ago, and would have hit her if she hadn't been keen enough to dodge at the last moment. Dean wrenches the arm upwards before he hooks his ankle around the man's legs in an attempt to throw him off balance. He is fast, but not quick enough.

The man snags him in the shoulder after forcing his hands from Dean's grasp and Lynn hears the sharp intake of breath that's let out. She curls her hand into a half-fist, letting it strike with whatever is near. By the scathing litany of cussing that comes next, she knows that it's found its mark. The man doubles over in pain and she takes the chance to bend his arm against his back and deliver a firm kick to the back of his knees. The momentum sends him to the floor in several minutes.

The man croaks out, "Dean?"

"Sammy?" she asks. She wasn't expecting her little brother to be as large as he is. She could still remember him as he was on the day the house went up in flames, still swaddled in bare clothing. They couldn't salvage much from the old house, and he had quickly outgrown all of his old clothes. She thought of him as the kid she had tended to all those years ago.

"Lynn? You're here too?" His voice is groggy and still half-asleep, but he still manages to shake himself out of her grip. He stands only two inches taller than her, brown hair curled upwards at the ends. "You scared the crap outta me!"

"Well, we were looking for a beer," Dean shrugs, chugging the rest of his glass. He pats Sam's shoulders firmly, "You're out of practice, little brother."

"What the hell is this about?"

"We've got to talk." Dean relents his grasp and Sam nearly stumbles, but Lynn is quicker. She forces her youngest sibling upright. It's been years since they've last seen each other, but it's still familiar. She feels it all flooding back -- the fear of having one of the two dying under her command, having one of them seized by the darkness, the protectiveness of an older sister. Lynn knows it. She had felt it all before, but it's accompanied by a different emotion now. Dread.

"Couldn't have done this over the phone?" Sam asks, and the irritation in his voice is unmissable. He had left to pursue a career on the Western end of the nation, abandoning his family's legacy. She faintly wondered if they would ever really be able to leave behind who they were. Even Sam had to take precautions against the chance of demons on his tail.

Ever since their mother was killed, it was as if there hadn't been a way out. Could they ever teach their children not to fear the dark? Would they have to spend their futures also worrying whenever they heard a noise in the night?

"If I'd have called, would you pick up?"

"Sam?" It's the voice of a girl, maybe just around Sam's age. The three siblings look at one another before looking to the source of the noise. Lynn feels her breath knocked out of the chest.

"Whoa," she whispers. Sam's accusatory eyes are turned her way but she ignores her brother. So this was the girl Sam Winchester was in love with. She has to admit, Sam has good taste. The girl is shorter than the Winchesters, just coming up to her collarbone. She had bright blonde hair and a petite stance, a grey smurf's shirt and shorts donned at night. The crop top hangs just over her belly button, perfect abs underneath. Lynn's never been into people much, but she sees why her brother was stunned by the girl. Sammy's picked out a real beauty.

"You're my brother's date?" asks Dean, and the girl gives a shy nod. He looks at her appreciatively.

Lynn decides to step in. "The name is Evelynn Winchester," she says, using her full name to address herself. Dean throws her a look, but she steps on his foot as a warning. Pointing towards the green-eyed blonde, "And that's Dean. We need to borrow your boyfriend for some private business. That alright?" Before she has a chance to answer, Sam steps in, hooking a protective hand around her waist. "Actually, if you want to tell me something, you might as well do it in front of us."

Dean shrugs, looking at the two of them in the eye unsurely before glancing at Lynn. She nods him on, encouraging him. The tension in the room is palpable. If Lynn could see it, the tension could've been thick enough to slice with a knife. He takes in a deep breath before announcing the news. "Dad hasn't been back home in days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

The older brother's mouth thins into a thin line. "He isn't. Dad's on a hunting trip, and he's not back home yet."

Sam's expression doesn't change, not even when his girlfriend looks up at him. "Excuse us, Jess, but we have to go outside."

[crimeculturepodcast]

Hispanic/Latino horror movies

In honor of Hispanic Heritage month, this week we talked about horror movies out of Latin American and Spanish speaking countries. There were some we couldn’t get to so here is the full list:

Spain

The Devil’s Backbone (2001)

Rotten Tomatoes: 92%

Audience Score: 89%

Google Score: 85%

IMDb: 7.4/10

Critics Consensus: Creepily atmospheric and haunting, The Devil's Backbone is both a potent ghost story and an intelligent political allegory.

Description: “Set during the last years of the Spanish Civil War, The Devil's Backbone is a Spanish gothic horror movie that follows Carlos, a young orphan boy who is deposited at Santa Lucia School among several other children who have been displaced by the conflict. Though he finds friends in the professor and the head mistress, he is plagued by a wandering spirit with a link to the violent caretaker's secret past.”

Trivia: The movie, which he wrote in college and was in development for 16 years, is strongly inspired by Del Toro’s personal memories, especially his relationship with his uncle, who supposedly came back as a ghost. It is also included among the "1,001 Movies You Must See Before You Die" edited by Steven Schneider. Although filmmaker Guillermo del Toro is Mexican, this film is set in the Spanish countryside (largely filmed in Madrid) that’s why it’s on the Spanish list. The Devil’s Backbone has all of the impactful elements of spirituality, horror, and the supernatural that come up again and again in Del Toro’s work. This film has been referred to as the “brother film” of one of Del Toro’s best known works, Pan’s Labyrinth. 

[REC] (2007)

Rotten Tomatoes: 89%

Audience Score: 82%

Google Score: 85%

IMDb: 7.4/10

Critics Consensus: Plunging viewers into the nightmarish hellscape of an apartment complex under siege, [Rec] proves that found footage can still be used as an effective delivery mechanism for sparse, economic horror.

Description: “Late-night TV host Angela and her cinematographer are following the fire service on a call to an apartment building, but the Spanish police seal off the building after an old woman is infected by a virus which gives her inhuman strength.”

Trivia: The movie was filmed chronologically in real locations (no sets were built for the movie). The actor’s were never given the script in its entirety and didn’t know what was going to happen to their characters until the day of filming. The movie is also a big inspiration for the horror survival game Outlast.

Considered The Blair Witch Project of zombie movies, REC had a lot of competition in the found footage style (it came out the same year as George Romero’s Diary of the Dead and the first Paranormal Activity movie). It more than holds its own among them, so much so that an American remake called Quarantine came out the next year. Director Jaume Balagueró keeps the movie disturbingly real and doesn’t fall prey to jump scare after jump scare.

Veronica (2017)

Rotten Tomatoes: 88%

Audience Score: 49%

Google Score: 80%

IMDb: 6.2/10

Critics Consensus: A scarily effective horror outing, Veronica proves it doesn't take fancy or exotic ingredients to craft skin-crawling genre thrills. 

Description: “During a solar eclipse, a teenage girl and her friends want to summon the spirit of the girl's father using an Ouija board. However, during the session she loses consciousness and soon it becomes clear that evil demons have arrived.”

Trivia: Based on the true story of 18-year-old Estefanía Gutiérrez Lázaro. I won’t go too far into it because we may do an episode on it in the future but if you want spoilers, watch the movie (if you dare).

Directed by Paco Plaza (same as REC), the possession theme is done over and over again in horror but this movie is a terrifying and fresh take. 

The Bar (2017)

Rotten Tomatoes: 88%

Audience Score: 55%

Google Score: 75%

IMDb: 6.3/10

Description: “In bustling downtown Madrid, a loud gunshot and two mysterious deaths trap a motley assortment of common urbanites in a decrepit central bar, while paranoia and suspicion force the terrified regulars to turn on each other.”

Directed by Álex de la Iglesia, it’s labeled as a horror-comedy. You can watch it on Netflix.

Who Can Kill A Child? (1976) - Tells the story of a happy couple, two English tourists who decide to vacation on a secluded island in the Mediterranean. There they discover – almost too late- that the island has been taken over by a group of murderous children.

The Baby’s Room (2006) - Featured on Six Films to Keep You Awake at Night. A new family renovates and moves into a grand old house. Nervous first-time mom installs a baby monitor but hears mysterious sounds on the other side. Once they install a high-tech video baby monitor, what they see chills them to the bone.

Sleep Tight (2011) - Apartment concierge Cesar is a miserable person who believes he was born without the ability to be happy. His self-appointed task is to make life hell for everyone around him, a mission in which he has great success. It has big home invasion/stalker vibes. 

Timecrimes (2007) - A man accidentally gets into a time machine and travels back in time nearly an hour. Finding himself will be the first of a series of disasters of unforeseeable consequences. It sounds like a “Happy Death Day” type of plot (but proceeding it by a decade).

Thesis (1996) - Angela is doing her thesis on the effect of violence in the media when she discovers a snuff film. This discovery leads her down a dark path where she must confront her greatest fears and question everybody around her.

Witching and Bitching (2013) - One article I read said it perfectly, “What Shaun of the Dead did for zombies and What We Do in the Shadows did for vampires, Witching & Bitching essentially did for the cinematic depiction of witches, albeit on a less visible scale.” Great pick if you’re looking for something a bit more lighthearted.

Mexico

Pan’s Labyrinth (2006)

Rotten Tomatoes: 95%

Audience Score: 91%

Google Score: 90%

IMDb: 8.2/10

Critics Consensus: Pan's Labyrinth is Alice in Wonderland for grown-ups, with the horrors of both reality and fantasy blended together into an extraordinary, spellbinding fable. 

Description: After the Allies invade Nazi-occupied Europe, a sadistic captain sends a troop of Spanish soldiers to flush out rebels,bringing his new wife and her daughter along on his exploits. While his family resides in the countryside, he leads his men on a murderous rampage, much of which is witnessed by his step daughter. In an effort to escape her reality she plunges into Pan's Labyrinth, a mystical world at the border of her own.

Trivia: Guillermo del Toro is famous for compiling books full of notes and drawings about his ideas before turning them into films, something he regards as essential to the process. He left years worth of notes for this film in the back of a cab, and when he discovered them missing, he thought it was the end of the project. However, the cab driver found them and, realizing their importance, tracked him down and returned them at great personal difficulty and expense. Del Toro was convinced that this was a blessing and it made him ever more determined to complete the film. Del Toro also repeatedly refused offers from Hollywood producers, in spite of being offered double the budget, provided the film was made in English. He didn't want any compromise in the storyline to suit the "market needs" (he even did the English subtitles himself). The film received 22 minutes of applause at the Cannes Film Festival and in 2007, it became one of the few fantasy films ever nominated in the Best Foreign Language Film category at the Oscars. It’s another on the list "1,001 Movies You Must See Before You Die" edited by Steven Schneider with The Devil’s Backbone. It was on more than 130 top 10 lists in 2006. It is also the 5th highest grossing foreign language film in the US.

The Similars (2016)

Rotten Tomatoes: 95%

Audience Score: 49%

Google Score: 75%

IMDb: 5.9/10

Critics Consensus: A smart homage to genre filmmaking, The Similars is a fun and frightening film that balances socio-political issues with aplomb.

Description: A monstrous, once-in-a-lifetime thunderstorm strands passengers in a remote bus station outside Mexico City in 1968. As they listen to the radio, they realized that the storm has spread all over the world. As they look at each other, they also realize that everyone’s faces are slowly changing, and not for the better. 

Trivia: The film used make-up and special effects techniques never before done in Mexico. Director Isaac Ezban was influenced by B-movies of the 50s and 60s as well as TV shows and movies like “The Twilight Zone”, “The Thing”, and “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”.

We Are What We Are (2010)

Rotten Tomatoes: 72%

Audience Score: 48%

Google Score: 77%

IMDb: 5.7/10

Critics Consensus: We Are What We Are is elevated horror that combines family drama and social politics, with plenty of gore on top.

Description: After a family patriarch dies, his survivors are tasked with continuing the rigid family rituals that involve hunting meat, preparing it for consumption, and eating it. The “meat” in question is human flesh, since they’re a family of cannibals. With two detectives hot on their tail, the family of cannibals strains to maintain their family traditions in a modern urban environment.

There was an English language remake in 2013 (86% on Rotten Tomatoes) with Wyatt Russell and Odeya Rush (Lady Bird, Dumplin’, and Goosebumps)

We Are The Flesh (2016) - A joint French-Mexican production released in Spanish as Somos la carne, this post-apocalyptic nightmare involves a brother and sister who roam the land desperately seeking food until a kindly old man takes them in under the condition that they help him renovate an abandoned building. Oh, and they also have to have sex with one another while he watches. And after he breaks their will by getting them to do that, he makes them do all sorts of other things. This film was one of only four in Mexico to receive a “D” rating—which is reserved for subject matter that is considered extremely disturbing and/or pornographic.

The Witch’s Mirror (1962) - An abusive and cheating husband kills his wife so that he can be with his mistress. The woman’s godmother was a witch who originally tried casting a spell on a mirror to protect her from domestic violence, but the spell failed. Still, she is able to bring the woman back from the grave, and the two witches set out to destroy the evil woman-beater.

Here Comes The Devil (2012) - A married couple lose their children while on a family trip near some caves in Tijuana. The kids eventually reappear without explanation, but it becomes clear that they are not who they used to be, that something terrifying has changed them.

Chile

Downhill (2016)

Rotten Tomatoes: 60%

Audience Score: 22%

Google Score: 43%

IMDb: 3.5/10

Description: Deeply upset by the passing of his best friend, a professional BMX rider accepts to partake in a race in Chile. Everything goes as planned until he stumbles upon a man who is infected by a mysterious virus and becomes the target of local assassins.

Trivia: Filmed in 13 days

Post Mortem (2010)

Rotten Tomatoes: 88%

Audience Score: 61%

Google Score: 70%

IMDb: 6.5/10

Description: In Chile, 1973, during the last days of Salvador Allende’s presidency, an employee at a Morgue’s recording office falls for a burlesque dancer who mysteriously disappears.

Aftershock (2012)

Rotten Tomatoes: 39%

Audience Score: 24%

Google Score: 61%

IMDb: 4.8/10

Critics Consensus: Aftershock hints at an inventive twist on horror tropes, but ultimately settles for another round of mind-numbing depravity that may alternately bore and revolt all but the most ardent gore enthusiasts.

Description: In Chile, a group of travelers who are in an underground nightclub when a massive earthquake hits quickly learn that reaching the surface is just the beginning of their nightmare.

Trivia: Horror icon Eli Roth wrote and stars in this film.

To Kill A Man (2014) - An attack on his daughter leads a mild-mannered family man to take revenge on the vicious street thugs who have tormented him and his family for a long time.

Columbia

Out Of The Dark (2014) This is in English

Rotten Tomatoes: 24%

Audience Score: 22%

Google Score: 77%

IMDb: 4.8/10

Description: A family moves to Colombia to take over the operation of a manufacturing plant, soon they learn their new home is haunted.

Trivia: Starring Julia Stiles (10 Things I Hate About You, Dexter) and Scott Speedman (The Strangers, You) 

The Squad (2011)

Audience Score: 53%

Google Score: 82%

IMDb: 5.3/10

Description: After a secret military base ceases all communications, an anti-guerrilla commando unit is sent to the mountainous location to discover what exactly happened. The squad expects to discover that the base was attacked and taken over by guerrilla units, but instead find only a lone woman wrapped in chains.

Trivia: In one scene where the actors are shooting guns, one actor accidentally picked up a real gun instead of the prop and fired a real shot (no one was hurt).

Cord (2015) - On a post-apocalyptic world of never-ending winter, a sparse cast of outsiders live underground. Due to their unsanitary conditions, sexual contact has become dangerous. Masturbation has become the paradigm of sexual experience and an array of low-tech devices with this purpose has come into existence. In this bleak reality, a dealer of such machines a sex addict make a deal: she will allow him to experiment new devices on her body in exchange of pleasure. Soon however, their relationship goes out of control.

The Hidden Face (2011)

Rotten Tomatoes: 80%

Audience Score: 72%

Google Score: 86%

IMDb: 7.4/10

Description: Shattered by the unexpected news of their irreversible break-up, an aspiring orchestra conductor is puzzled by his girlfriend's mysterious and seemingly inexplicable case of disappearance. But, can he look beyond the facts?

Trivia: There is a Turkish version of this movie and a 2013 remake out of India called “Murder 3”

At The End Of The Spectra (2006)

Google Score: 83%

IMDb: 6/10

Description: A young woman who has become agoraphobic due to a traumatic incident is holed up in her apartment, she begins to suffer from hallucinations, paranoia and an obsessive neighbour.

Trivia: There is a Mexican remake called “Devil Inside” and there were once rumors of an American remake starring Nicole Kidman but that’s the end of that.

Uruguay

The Silent House (La Casa Muda) (2010) 

Rotten Tomatoes: 68%

Audience Score: 37%

Google Score: 63%

IMDb: 5.4/10

Critics Consensus: Shot in a single take, The Silent House may be a gimmick movie, but it's one that's enough to sustain dread and tension throughout. 

Description: A girl becomes trapped inside a house and becomes unable to contact the outside world as supernatural forces haunt it.

Trivia: The plot is supposedly based on a true story that occurred in the 1940s in a small village in Uruguay. With a budget of just six thousand dollars, it was filmed using a handheld high-definition digital single-lens reflex camera (the Canon EOS 5D Mark II), 2 handheld lamps, and a couple of lightbulbs over a time period of just four days. The claim that the movie was filmed in one continuous take are suspect. The Mark II camera can only record up to 15 minutes of continuous video at a time. Uruguay's official submission to the Best Foreign Language Film category of the 84th Academy Awards 2012.

Monos (2019)

Rotten Tomatoes: 92% 

Audience Score: 85%

Google Score: 69%

IMDb: 6.9/10

Critics Consensus: As visually splendid as it is thought-provoking, Monos takes an unsettling look at human nature whose grim insights leave a lingering impact.

Description: On a faraway mountaintop, eight teenaged guerillas with guns watch over a hostage and a conscripted milk cow. Playing games and initiating cult-like rituals, the children run amok in the jungle and disaster strikes when the hostage tries to escape.

Trivia: Moises Arias (Hannah Montana) and Julianne Nicholson (I, Tonya, August: Osage County) most of the other actors had never acted before. The movie draws inspiration from Lord of the Flies. Included among the "1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die", edited by Steven Schneider. It was selected as the official Colombian entry for the Best International Feature Film at the 92nd Academy Awards.

Peru

The Entity (2015)

Google Score: 66%

IMDb: 4.3/10

Description: A group of students decide to study 'reaction videos' and are led toward an old film, hidden in the archive room of a cemetery. It appears that everybody who has witnessed the film has met an untimely demise under suspicious circumstances. When the students view the footage, they discover first hand, what the demonic spirit is capable of. Fulfilling the ancient curse of a woman cruelly killed during the Spanish Inquisition.

Trivia: The Entity has been billed as Peru's first 3D horror film and to have been loosely based on true stories. Review websites Flickering Myth and Nerdly commented that the movie suffered from being too overly familiar to pre-existing works (Blair Witch, The Ring).

The Vanished Elephant (2014)

Rotten Tomatoes: 89%

Audience Score: 72%

Google Score: 88%

IMDb: 6.5/10

Description: Crime novelist Edo remains obsessed with what happened to his fiancee Celia after she disappeared during an earthquake. When an enigmatic woman brings him photos that may help him solve the mystery, he senses he is being drawn into a dangerous game.

The Secret Of Evil (2014)

Google Score: 65%

IMDb: 5/10

Description: Video footage depicting a supernatural encounter is all that remains of a filmmaker and his crew who disappeared while exploring a haunted house.

When Two Worlds Collide (2016)

Rotten Tomatoes: 91%

Audience Score: 69%

Google Score: 93%

IMDb: 7.6/10

Description: An indigenous environmental activist takes on the large businesses that are destroying the Amazon.

El Vientre (2014)

Google Score: 81%

IMDb: 6.1/10

Description: Silvia, a beautiful 45-year-old widow, is obsessed with having a child and finds in attractive but naive Mercedes the perfect candidate to bear it. Silvia kindly offers her a job and a room in her house, and then manipulates her into seducing a young man named Jaime. They soon fall in love and Mercedes becomes pregnant. Silvia will do anything in her power to keep the baby, even if it means leaving a couple of bodies behind.

Argentina

Terrified (2018)

Rotten Tomatoes: 77% 

Audience Score: 65%

Google Score: 82%

IMDb: 6.5/10

Description: Paranormal researchers investigate strange events in a neighbourhood in Buenos Aires.

Luciferina (2018)

Rotten Tomatoes: 83%

Audience Score: 25%

Google Score: 69%

IMDb: 4.6/10

Description: Natalia is a nineteen-year-old novice who reluctantly returns home to say goodbye to her dying father. However, when she meets up with her sister and her friends, she decides instead to travel the jungle in search of mystical plant.

Francesca (2015)

Audience Score: 67%

Google Score: 73%

IMDb: 5.3/10

Description: Two detectives track a serial killer who has been targeting the impure. To catch him, they'll have to solve the case of a girl who went missing 15 years ago.

Cold Sweat (2010)

Rotten Tomatoes: 75%

Audience Score: 

Google Score: 58%

IMDb: 4.8/10

Description: The movie follows Román, who stumbles upon his ex-girlfriend Jackie, who has somehow gotten caught up in a torture cult run by two sadistic, old men. The aging political radicals have managed to put Jackie’s life in incredible danger. But when Román and his friend try to help Jackie out of her confines, the elderly psychos prove to be more than meets the eye.

Penumbra (2011)

Rotten Tomatoes: 50%

Audience Score: 26%

Google Score: 75%

IMDb: 5.5/10

Description: A woman desperate to find a tenant for her decrepit apartment apparently finds the perfect candidate, unaware of a sinister plot involving an imminent eclipse.

Venezuela

The House At The End of Time (2013)

Rotten Tomatoes: None 

Audience Score: 72%

Google Score: 91%

IMDb: 6.8/10

Description: Dulce encounters apparitions in her house and unleashes a terrible prophecy. Thirty years later, Dulce, now an old woman, returns to unravel the mystery that has terrorized her for years.

Trivia: Winner of the Audience Award at Gävle Horror Film Festival 2016 (Sweden). Not only is it Venezuela’s highest-grossing horror film, it’s also the most distributed film from the country. By August 2016 it was announced that the American studio New Line Cinema acquired the rights of the film to make a remake for the American public. Hidalgo is still at the wheel so its chances of success are high.

Ecuador

Cronicas (2004)

Rotten Tomatoes: 71%

Audience Score: 77%

Google Score: 80%

IMDb: 6.9/10

Critics Consensus: An unsettling and absorbing cautionary tale with John Leguizamo playing an unscrupulous TV reporter who uses the medium to further his own goals.

Description: Reporter Manolo Bonilla (John Leguizamo) goes to a jail in Ecuador to interview Vinicio Cepeda (Damián Alcázar, Narcos, Narnia), a hit-and-run driver whose crime incited a riot. After Cepeda tells him he knows where a murderer called the Monster of Babahoyo buried a young female victim, Bonilla posts bail in the hopes that he'll learn more about the crime. Bonilla finds the girl's body, but, as he nears the scoop of his career, it looks as if Cepeda might be withholding some key details.

Trivia: Inspired by a true story? As well as being both a Cannes and TIFF favourite, Cronicas is the official submission of Ecuador for the 'Best Foreign Language Film' category of the 77th Academy Awards in 2005, it was produced by Guillermo del Toro and Alfonso Cuarón (Children of Men, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) This is John Leguizamo’s first film in Spanish. He said he felt awkward talking in Spanish while acting, like he didn't know the language. 

English Language Horror

The Silent House (2011) This is in English

Rotten Tomatoes: 43%

Audience Score: 

Google Score: 72%

IMDb: 5.3/10

Critics Consensus: Silent House is more technically proficient and ambitious than most fright-fests, but it also suffers from a disappointing payoff.

Description: Sarah is working with her father and uncle to renovate an old family home to prepare it for sale. Long vacant, the house has no utilities, forcing the trio to rely on battery-operated lanterns to light their way. Sarah becomes separated from her relatives and soon finds she is trapped inside the cabin, with no contact with the outside world. Panic turns to real terror as the young woman experiences events that become increasingly ominous.

Trivia: Elizabeth Olsen (Wandavision) The plot is based on a true story that occurred in the 1940s in a small village in Uruguay. Contrary to the marketing's claim that the film was shot in one uninterrupted take, the entire movie was actually shot to mimic one continuous real-time take, with no cuts from start to finish, as a result the time span of the film's plot is exactly 86 minutes. It was shot in roughly 10 minute segments then carefully edited to hide the cuts.

Night of the Living Dead (1968) - This along with the rest of the Dead series are the work of George A. Romero, whose father is from Cuba.

Ash vs. Evil Dead - I love the Evil Dead movies and although this series wasn’t perfect (I’m sure die-hard fans will say it's far from it), I still think it kept to the heart of the main story. Bruce Campbell is obviously perfect and the addition of Lucy Lawless is amazing, it’s really Puerto Rican actor Ray Santiago that steals the show.

The Others (2001) - Directed by globally renowned Spanish director Alejandro Amenábar, The Others starring Nicole Kidman is a Spanish gothic horror movie that combines elements of the supernatural, psychological, and mystical. It focuses on the strange events that occur at the estate of a woman and her young children, plagued by spirits in the aftermath of WWII. It has the distinction of being the only English-language Spanish movie to be given the Best Film Award at Spain's national film awards, the Goyas. In total, the movie has seven Goya Awards, including for Best Director. Although it might not read as particularly “Spanish,” it was produced, written and filmed all in Spain, shooting in Cantabria, Northern Spain and Madrid.

[wincestation]

Wincest in the Pilot (aka my final paper)

2k of academic rambling. I got plenty of help and inspiration from this post and this blog review. Also huge thanks to @s2e11playthings for helping me find the latter. It is me! Essay-anon came out of the shadows!

The first interaction between the two brothers as adults occurs when Dean sneaks into Sam's apartment in the middle of the night. Sam fights the intruder before the latter pins him to the floor, making him realize it's his brother. The first words Dean tells him after not seeing him for two years are, "Easy, tiger." Dean's hand grabs Sam's neck and he smiles broadly at his little brother. As stated in the subsequent dialogue, the reason Dean appears this way is because he knows Sam would not have answered the phone if he had called. Why? the only reason Dean would call (which is also the reason he showed up) is that something happened to their father. Sam knows this, and maybe he didn't care if something really did happen to John. But what if John was the one who called? Maybe then Sam would answer, because he knows that this phone call has a different meaning: something happened to Dean.

Sam and Dean step outside to talk. Sam initially refuses to come with his brother, saying he is done with hunting, with the life that Dean and their father lead. Dean mocks Sam's aspiration for a normal life, perhaps as part of an attempt to persuade Sam to come with him, and return to the life they always shared together. After an argument between the two, involving emotional manipulations on both sides ("It wasn't easy, but it wasn't so bad", Dean dismisses Sam's words; "Do you think Mom would've wanted this for us?" Sam touches on a sensitive point), Dean understands that his brother is not about to give up, and finally reveals the real reason for his arrival:

Dean: I can't do this alone.

Sam: Yes, you can.

Dean: Well, I don't want to.

Dean completely contradicts everything he had said up to this point. In this sentence he expresses an emotional need for Sam, not a practical need. He could have sought out their father alone but chose not to; Maybe he saw the danger to his father's life as a good enough reason for Sam to come back to their lives again. Sam can not remain indifferent to this emotional vulnerability, and agrees to come with him - not because he cares what happens to their father, but because he too, like Dean, needs his brother and does not want to say goodbye to him again.

Sam agrees on one condition: he has an interview on Monday and he must get back on time. Dean agrees. Sam could have offered Dean to sleep on the couch and drive in the morning, or even go after the interview. But he does none of these things, and travels with him at that moment, in the middle of the night, without providing explanations to his girlfriend and without even kissing her goodbye. "At least tell me where you're going?" She calls after him as he leaves, with no answer. This urgency can be interpreted as a concern for the safety of Winchester Sr. but given the relationship between him and Sam, this is probably not the case. Why then is Sam in such a hurry to abandon the life he, allegedly, wants so much? In light of the dialogue between the two brothers the answer seems simple. He missed his brother, and now that he knows this feeling is mutual, he feels he has a good enough reason to leave the "normal" life behind - even if only for one weekend. This confirmation is the real reason he's arguing with his brother. The dialogue between them, according to this interpretation, is full of subtext:

Dean: I will not go until you come with me, or kick me out of your life forever.

Sam: If you want me to come, you need to tell me what I need to hear.

Dean: Don't make me say it out loud.

The two set out to find their father. After research, Sam and Dean discover that the monster of the week is a "woman in white" - a ghost that kills unfaithful men. Later in the episode, the ghost tries to attack Sam, who tells her she can't hurt him, because "I'm not unfaithful, I never was." She replies, "You will be." The hegemonic interpretation, presumably meant by the creators of the series, is that Sam is about to cheat on Jessica with the murderous ghost (with or without his consent). But Sam being targeted can be interpreted in another way. Is he going to betray his girlfriend by wanting to return to the life he shared with Dean and their father? Or even, can it be said that he did not betray her, but his brother, by leaving the family and trying to live a "normal" life with a woman?

The scene on the bridge, in which another confrontation takes place between Sam and Dean, can also be interpreted in two ways. Sam says, half in mockery and half in pity, "Mom is dead, and nothing will bring her back." Dean, in a fit of rage, grabs his brother and slams him at one of the bridge poles. "Don't you dare talk about her like that." This is of course one meaning of things. Another meaning could be, "Dean, I moved on, and nothing will bring me back." To this Dean responds in the only way he knows, "don't you dare not give up on me like that." Throughout the episode, and in this scene in particular, Dean repeatedly mocks Sam's choice to leave college - "Do you really think you're going to become a lawyer? Marry your girl?" - And this ridicule can stem from jealousy over the seemingly perfect and normal life that Sam managed to achieve, but at its core is another jealousy: Sam chose this life over a life with him.

The series hit screens in 2005. About two months after the premiere of the first episode, a blog review titled "Supermatural is Supergay" was published. The author described the series as follows:

It’s like the Hardy Boys, only gayer. I love the awkward sexual tension between the brothers. […] So Dean is the super control freak “top”. He has to be driving at all times. […] Sam rides in the passenger seat. He’s the soft spoken bottom boy, always staring out the window in this deep, dreamy state of mind. No idea what the hell he’s thinking about, but I suspect he is wondering where this relationship is going, and if Dean will ever say “I love you”.

Wait a minute… don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about incest here. See, that's the backstory. They are not really brothers. They are secret lovers, hiding their dirty affair. So they pretend to be brothers so nobody questions why they are together 24/7, why they share a bed. […] Throughout the episodes, they give each other hot glances. It’s never part of the dialogue, they just look like they will rip each other’s clothes off at any given moment. […]

UPDATE: On last Tuesday's episode, "Bugs", they were mistaken for a gay couple and then pretended to be a gay couple in the next scene. See, I told you they are gay guys pretending to be brothers. You heard it here first.

Although the writer was wrong in his assumption - Sam and Dean are indeed brothers - he makes a claim that will receive many reinforcements from the fans. There is a certain tension between the two characters, a codependence bordering on desperation that often later in the show will cause them to take extreme steps to keep each other safe. The brothers' love borders on obsession, which caused many fans to agree with the blogger's opinion - just a week after the first episode was aired, the first online community dedicated to the romantic relationship between the two brothers already opened (sn_slash, or Supernatural Slash, "for all your brotherly needs"). It is difficult to say whether the homoerotic clues came from the creators and were picked up by the audience, or whether the audience interpreted the show as he wished and the creators decided to satisfy their desires, but throughout the series there is recognition of the two's special relationship: In "Bugs" [1x08], everyone is convinced they are a couple and they continue the pretense; In later seasons, the brothers discover that books are being written about their lives, and that many fans of these books are convinced they are a couple (in "The Real Ghostbusters" [5x09] in the Supernatural convention, there is a panel called "The Homoerotic Undertones in Supernatural"); And many of the characters in the series, even those who know about the two being brothers, describe their relationship as one of codependence, blind and absolute love, for which they often sacrifice the entire world ("Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other", [5x19] "The point of no return").

Did the creators not understand that this is the message they are transmitting? It is hard to believe that they were unanimous on the subject, especially in light of all the reflexive references they themselves have planted in the show. If so, what could be their reason for engaging in a relationship that is fundamentally unnatural, perverse and forbidden, socially and often legally? This can be explained with the help of another issue - that of the exclusion of LGBTQ+ relationships from the public sphere and the lack of legitimacy for their visibility. Supernatural hit the screens in 2005, a time that may not seem so long ago, but its gay visibility is still lacking, and in which there was still no legitimacy to present a proud couple in popular culture. Maybe, as the blogger suggested in his review, the creators genuinely wanted to create a series that would center around love between two men, but felt that the world was not ready to see that content explicitly. After all, it was only a few decades ago that homosexuality was also perceived as unnatural, perverse and forbidden. Maybe acknowledging that, the creators chose to turn Sam and Dean into brothers, as if to reassure the conservatives: of course they are not just two men who are together at any given moment, staring at each other longingly and willing to sacrifice the whole world just so they won't be left without each other. That could be interpreted as homosexuality - and beyond the harsh criticism, such TV series simply wouldn't survive (or at least, that is how the creators may have felt at the time). And if some of the fans understood the true meaning in which the creators wanted engage, well, that was not in their hands.

To sum up, it is difficult to argue that this relationship is characterized as purely platonic. Even if the creators did not intend to create such an impression already in the first episode, they were aware of this impression and included explicit references to this unusual relationship. Although only an analysis of the first episode was conducted here, throughout the entire series there are unequivocal statements that support this assumption (some of which I mentioned above, but most of which have been omitted). And perhaps there is no need for many words beyond those uttered by the brothers themselves, for the first time in the pilot, and for the last time in the finale ("Carry on" [15x20]), before they said goodbye to each other for the last time: "I can't do this alone. I don't want to."

[lis-likes-fics]

Hey! Can you please do where Lucille gets somehow injured and y/n takes care of her? Maybe it all leads to them making out and confessing love?

Pairing: Lucille Sharpe x Reader

Warning: Injuries

Author's Note: I was too lazy to go to my computer to post this, so enjoy the set up ig. Also, thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy. There are a couple lines inspired by an episode of Lucifer because I just watched it yesterday. Enjoy!

~~~

You always had your beliefs in ghosts. You also had your fair share of them. You met kind ones, sorrowful ones, malevolent ones. But most of them were full of pain and fear, and it pained you to see.

But never had you been in a house so full of haunted spirits that roamed the corridors of Allerdale Hall. They seemed to be some of the saddest spirits you had ever met. It took time at first for you to grow used to them, but the spirits slowly learned that you did not fear them. They grew used to you and you learned to live in the house with your dear friend, Lucille Sharpe.

The way you met Lucille had changed your life. You were a part of a rich family who cared only for wealth. You lived with an abusive mother and no father, he had died when you were young and it turned your mother's heart to ice. Lucille had met you only a few months before it happened. You had quickly grown close and were able to call her your friend.

You once asked about her family, if she had one. She had told you that she had been abandoned by her brother when he ran off with his wife, leaving her alone in an empty mansion. She had come in search of funds to keep her old family's home supported. You were able to convince your mother to lend her some money.

Lucille stood by you for quite a while in your home, she was living in your own mansion as a guest. In doing so, she got a front row seat in your home treatment and she was quick to oppose.

She questioned you, why did you live here in this hell hole? Why did you put up with such punishment? Your answer? It was the only place you had. But one night an accident happened while your mother was out. You had gotten word later that night that she had been killed in an accident with the carriage. The horses had been spooked while pulling the carriage and ran wild. It had caused the carriage to crash and it killed your mother and the driver.

The family fortune went to you as her heir. But you could not stay in that house any longer. Lucille offered to allow you a stay in her own home. It would be lonely without company, so she offered you hers and her, yours. You accepted her offer with a smile.

That was how you came to live in Allerdale Hall, also known as Crimson Peak.

You and Lucille only grew closer. But there was an aspect of the mansion you couldn't quite put to rest. The secrets of the house. Why were there so many ghosts, and why were they so terribly haunted?

You learned of the ghosts and how they died. You gathered the information as you approached the ghosts. They knew you didn't fear them, and they yearned to give you the answers you sought.

Lucille knew what you were doing after a while and tried to figure out what to do. If you knew the truth, you would leave her. This house was too big and too haunted to live here on her own - it was one of the real reasons she had come to you and your town. She didn't want to be alone in that house.

But the more she fought to figure out what to do, the more she realized something. Everyone in this house falls to ruins over time. Everyone finds out, one way or another, that this house brought only death.

Over her life, she was never bothered by the death of anyone except her brother. But then you showed up and showed her care and hope. You gave her this strange feeling. A feeling not even Thomas had given to her. She couldn't place it, though she felt it was obvious.

But she feared your death more than anything in the world. She could not lose you, she would not. So she did what she could to assure you lived.

"Y/N, it's time for you to go," Lucille told you once during tea. She had been acting strangely all day - all week even. She was distant, almost scared and sad.

You stared at her in shock and disbelief, before slowly sinking into fear.

"What? Why?" you asked quickly, a flurry of words escaping your mouth at once, "Did I do something wrong? Why do I have to go?"

Lucille winced at your questions. She didn't know why it was so hard to tell you to leave. She couldn't understand what was tethering you so tightly to her. "You've done nothing wrong… but I feel it is time for us to move on. You've been in this house for so long and… I fear it will not end well if you should stay."

"But why, Lucille? I don't want to go, I don't want to leave you," you told her, tears springing to your eyes as you pleaded with her, "Please, don't make me go."

You weren't budging. Lucille didn't want to, but the only way to get you to leave was to force you out. She would rather push you away than lose you to death.

"I know you have been snooping around the house. You have been invading in my privacy and secrets, and that is something I cannot allow. So it is time for you to leave." She stood and began walking off in the direction of the grand stairs.

You stood and followed her, "I'm sorry. I just… I was curious and it was wrong of me to invade. Please don't make me go. I'll do better."

You didn't want to leave her. She was so good to you and the alternative was to return home to your family who cared so little.

At the center of the stairs, she turned on you then. There were tears in her own eyes as she spoke, "Y/N, don't you see? You have to leave. You can't stay here. I know you've been trying to uncover the secrets in the house - I know you have already. So you know by now that this house brings nothing but darkness. Death. I can't risk losing you and in doing so, you must leave."

You shook your head, "I'm not leaving you, Lucille. Do not push me away, I can't lose the only friend I've had."

"But you must," she said, turning away from you, "it is not safe here and I will not put you in any more danger. You may not fear the ghosts, but you should fear me."

You knew what she had done, everything. The scams she created and executed with her brother. The murder of her mother and the poisoning of the other women her brother had married for the scam. How her brother had fallen in love with the last woman she had conned and left with her, abandoning his sister. He didn't want to leave her - he begged her to come with. But she refused.

Because of all of this, you knew you should have feared her, run away from her. But you could not. No matter what she had done, you couldn't leave her.

"I don't care what you've done, Lucille. No matter what, I will be here for you. That's what friends do. It's what I'm willing to do because I don't want to lose you."

"Y/N," she whispered, "Please, don't make this any harder than it has to be." She looked up at you, a deep frown set on her face and tears in her eyes.

You stood your ground, looking her deep in those chaotically beautiful eyes and shaking your head, "I'm not leaving you."

"Then I'll make you," she said, taking a step back to turn around. Your eyes widened as she lost her balance, unknowing that she had taken a step back at the edge of the stairs. You rushed over to help her before she fell backwards, but she had already gone tumbling down.

"Lucille!" you yelled as she rolled down. You rushed down to get her. She landed at the bottom of the stairs, unmoving on the floor as she was knocked unconscious.

You got to the bottom, your vision blurry with tears. "Lucille, wake up," you said, moving her head to your lap. You examined her quickly for any wounds as you panicked. "Lucille!"

-

It had been two days since the accident. Lucille was in the bed, still unconscious. You'd brought tea to her room like you had been since she fell down the stairs. You tended to her wounds - a broken arm and cuts and bruises all over her. She had a nasty gash on the side of her forehead from a hit. You were surprised she had made it through, but overwhelmingly relieved. You thought you lost her.

You read aloud next to Lucille's bed, it was her favorite book. As you read, she was slowly waking up, her eyes fluttering as she looked around the room. Your voice finally reached her as she made sense of your words. She interrupted as she spoke, speaking into the room that would have otherwise been silent, "That's my favorite."

You turned to her quickly, setting the book down as you offered a small smile. "I know, that's why I chose it."

She fought off a smile before going to sit up, groaning quickly as the pain caught up with her, her aching body protesting her movements.

"Hey, hey, hey. Careful," you eased her back into the bed, propping her up against some pillows, "You were very badly hurt. Your arm is broken and you've got a concussion."

She reached her hand up to her head, feeling the gash that you stitched up after the fall. She winced at the cut and you gave her a sad frown. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed, "Better… Thank you."

You nodded and sighed. There was a question that had been nagging at you since the argument, but you didn't want to bring that up. You were scared she would still make you leave.

Lucille seemed to notice this as she asked, "What is it?"

You sighed, thinking of how to ask. "Lucille…why do you think I should stay away from you?"

She looked down at her arm wrapped in a cast, sighing as she tried to find the words. "Y/N," she said hesitantly, "I have darkness in me."

You told her gently, taking one of her hands in yours, "Everyone has darkness in them."

She nodded a little, "Yes, but… mine is different. It's deeper. It makes me do bad things, terrible things. It makes me a bad person."

You gave her a soft smile and brought her hand to your lips, kissing it gently, "The darker the darkness, the brighter the light. And you, Lucille, are the brightest shine I have ever seen."

She watched you, searching you for any kind of lie. When she saw none in your eyes, she questioned, "Why are you saying these things?"

"Because they're true. I would never lie to you, Lucille. I can't. I…" you trailed off, not exactly knowing what you're going to say.

You sighed, looking back up at her. She asked, "You what?"

You shrugged, "I don't know."

She took her hand from your grasp and moved it to your face. You looked at her, into her eyes with a deep sigh. "You really believe I'm good."

You nodded, "It doesn't matter how much darkness you have, Lucille. Your heart is good."

She smiled at you, it was a smile that made your heart flutter. You glanced at her lips, unable to control yourself as you kissed her then. You immediately pulled back, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as you apologized profusely. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what-"

She stopped you before you could go on a tangent and kissed you again. You sunk into her, your eyes closing as you tasted her lips. It was the best you had ever felt.

You kissed her a little while longer before pulling back for air.

You breathed each other in as you stayed like that. She broke the silence, "Don't go."

You smiled, kissing her again, "I would never… I think…"

"What?" she asked, opening her eyes to look at you. You looked back at her and smiled gently again, "I think I've fallen in love with you."

Lucille smiled this time, unable to hold it back as she responded, "I think I've fallen in love with you, too."

You kissed her again, promising her that you would never leave.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (more to come)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: October 2021

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: dead body/crime scene, blood and bite wounds talked about in detail, hypnosis/compelling someone to do something against their will, overall discussion of murder (basically what we see in every episode of the show))

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: Absolutely nothing you don’t already know, this is legit from the first chapter. Hotch is a Vampire (although the LEOs don’t really know that), Rossi is a priest, Morgan is so empathetically telepathic he can touch the auras in the air, and Reid is Reid. I know I’ve been giving you the juicy HotchReid stuff but here have some case stuff too, to see what you’re in for with the plot and everything. This is FIRST DRAFT so it’s terribly unpolished, first part is generalized POV (hence the more professional titles) and the second is within the team dynamics so they get more familiar. idk my first drafts are messy and indecisive, enjoy anyway. 💕)

–

They approach the body and Rainer shoos away his pestering, hovering officers and --- winces once again at the sight of the bloodied woman. “This is the third body in two days; a jogger found her about 6 am. Coroner says she thinks she’s been dead for about 6 hours; killed in the middle of the night, just like the others.” 

“Closer to five hours, I think,” Dr. Reid says, crouching down to look closer. All long legs and his gun looking too big on his belt next to his FBI badge. “Could still be within the Witching Hour, though.”

“Do you have accurate time of death estimates for the other two bodies?” Agent Morgan adds on, already picking up the train of thought Dr. Reid has started on. The detective pulls out an old-school flip notebook book and looks through it before answering.

“3:15am the first night, 9:30pm last night and now this.”

“Well that rules out hex, sacrifice, and spell gone wrong,” he concludes, as the other agents surround the body to inspect it from all angles. “So what are we thinking?”

“It’s a frenzied bite,” Agent Hotchner points out, looking from where he stands and not having to get as close as Dr. Reid to inspect it accurately. His eyesight is better than any microscope. “Shows multiple entries, it couldn’t get a good enough hold to rip her throat. Or she struggled, so it wasn’t strong enough to keep her pinned down.”

“The boys think it’s a Vamp,” Detective Rainer points out. “Maybe a baby one, still learning the ropes?”

“Vampire changes are regulated and no sire would allow whoever they turned to do this,” Agent Hotchner says, a colder flint to his voice that matches the way his dark stare cuts up to the detective. “No one has been turned in the United States in the past twelve years.”

“It’s not a Vampire bite,” Dr. Reid agrees, putting on latex gloves to further inspect the body and test the bite radius. “And it’s not a werewolf bite, either.”

“...Werewolf?” the detective says with a winded sound, eyes wide and looking to the three agents who didn’t even blink at the word. “There’s -- there’s such thing as werewolves?” 

“Detective, I think you should let my team and I work, we will come to you with our findings and then help you track down your killer.” Agent Hotchner doesn’t leave room for argument, his dark brown eyes looking pitch black in the early morning light, and Detective Rainer… suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to walk away. Like he can’t breathe if he doesn’t comply; he fights it, tries to fight it, and feels his will crumble beneath him like a sand bank giving way under his feet. He turns, even that small gesture lessening the pressure crushing his chest, and takes a step away from the group, air swept into his lungs like a riptide. He makes a hasty retreat after that, winded as if he just ran up a flight of stairs and the sweet taste of oxygen being his only reprieve. He doesn’t know what happened, and wouldn’t upon further inspection until much, much later.

-

“That wasn’t very nice, Hotch,” Rossi points out with a look of glib reprimand towards their team leader. “I thought compelling feeble minded beat cops was for those who have no skills to avoid it.”

“My patience was running thin, and we need to move faster on this case before our unsub kills again. He’s escalating.” That much is obvious, by the timeline alone, but Father Rossi still gives him a side-ways glance that says he finds far too much amusement in the undead’s antics. “Reid, are you sure it’s not a werewolf bite? It would explain the lack of control and precision.”

“I’m sure,” Reid says with finality, and no one makes a mention on why. He had done more research than any human possibly could in the past few months on werewolf transformation and the after effects of attacks. With what happened to one of their former agents mere months ago, no one doubted his newly learned expertise. “It’s also not a shifter, or a ghoul. We can rule out ghost and poltergeist as well, no residue or temperature shifts.” 

“Demon possession?” Morgan asks, looking to Rossi just as he does his customary Sign of the Cross at the mere mention. Can’t help the gesture, after his own past experiences. Giving anything the power of a name, even arbitrary, can be a dangerous thing. 

“We can’t rule it out,” he admits. “The teeth marks are human, someone possessed would still have a hard time biting that deep and doing that much damage. Cannibalism is only reserved for the amusements of level three demons, however they aren’t usually powerful enough to reach the mortal plane or take possession of someone’s body. They would need help.” 

“You really think someone would weaponize a demon like that?” 

“We’ve seen people do worse things, as has history, but I’d like to hope it wouldn’t happen in my lifetime.” 

“We need more information,” Hotch concludes, arms crossed and watching as Reid stands up and removes the blood stained gloves. “Morgan,” his gaze cuts to the tall man in his deep blue suit. “Can you walk the scene, tell us what you see?”

“Not with this many people around,” Morgan shakes his head, eyes glancing to every person within a twenty foot radius. “Too many readings, the aura field here looks like an oil spill. The only thing I can latch onto is…” his gaze is back on the ground, hovering over the dead woman, who would have no aura to speak of at all and therefore a blank canvas. He replaces Reid’s space, crouching down to touch the air over the bite wound. Fingers spread wide, less than a foot from her but not touching, palm suddenly curving as if over an invisible shoulder, the place where someone had once been not so long ago. It could have been the coroner, or the crime scene photographer, but with it being so close to the body -- chances were it was the unsub.

“They were crouched down, half on the ground, no… human thoughts that I can hear,” he says, closing his eyes and letting his hand glide through the air a little more, following the curve of someone’s spine and up their neck, resting where the head would be. “They have a fever burning them up, hot as a furnace--” he keeps his hand there too long, suddenly jerks it back as if it had physically burned him, then stands up again. Shaking off the aura reading still sticking to his fingers and the forefront of his mind. “Sound like anything you’ve heard of, pretty boy?” 

Reid shakes his head, sharing a glance with Father Rossi. “We might have to go through some of your demonology books.” The older man grins wide.

“You just want to get your hands on them, at this rate you’ll have them memorized by next week.” 

“Dave --” Hotch says slow, a reprimand of his own.

“Fine, fine, I’ll have Garcia send us some scans. If the Vatican knew I was putting a book like that in his hands they’d strip me of all my titles.”

“Didn’t they already do that?” Morgan teases with a grin.

“Ex-communicated. I got to keep the dog collar, the honorifics, bless the holy water, you know -- the party tricks.” 

–

((if you want to be apart of the taglist just hit me up via comment, reblog tag, DMs or asks 💕))

[beatricethecat2]

"No joy," Myka says, peeking into the static bag.

"That was the correct part, was it not?" Helena enlarges the photo on Myka's phone of a nineteenth-century elevator car housed at the Warehouse.

"I'm pretty sure. But that picture's not great." Myka slides the handle out and plops it back in to the tune of no sparks.

Helena noses around the storage space as The Dakota building's manager walks in.

"Maybe what you're looking for's in here," he says, plunking down a milk crate full of parts. "When they renovate, they save anything original."

"It's an elevator handle. From the original manual ones. Just not this one." Myka slips the part from the bag and holds it up.

"Might be in Ms. Shiva's apartment then. Parents took two cars and made them into a bar. Or could be from the one that went missing, the mysterious fourth car."

Myka and Helena share a concerned look, knowing the Warehouse took it without permission.

"Can we see the other two?" Myka asks.

"Look just like that one." The man points toward the ornately carved wooden car on the other side of the room. "Handle's that important to you, huh?"

"As architectural historians? Yes," Helena snips in a clipped, scholarly tone.

"Alright. Gimme a minute." He slips his phone out of its belt clip and walks out of the room.

Helena picks through dust-covered items in the crate. "This may be a lost cause."

"It must be upstairs. The walls are so thick, the ping could have come from anywhere."

"You said 'pickup,' not 'ping.'"

"Claudia called it a pickup yesterday! Today she called it a ping."

Helena huffs a disgruntled breath.

The manager waves a hand from the doorway. "She said it's ok to come up."

Myka follows the man, but Helena hangs back.

"Aren't you coming?" 

"I...should look through this crate."

"You know more about this stuff than me. You should come with."

"Myka, I...."

Myka steps closer and lowers her voice. "I know you're not happy about being here, but I really need your help."

Helena holds Myka's gaze but doesn't move.

"Please."

Helena nods an apprehensive yes.

"You'll tell me what's going on with you later, right?"

Helena nods again, with equal apprehension.

Myka grimaces. "Come on."

They follow the manager out of the room and into the elevator to the fourth floor.

-----------------

The Adventures of Wells and Bering ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 3 Title: New York City: I'm buggin' out!

Summary: After three blissful days holed up in their Philadelphia hotel room, Myka receives a call from the Warehouse asking for help. Helena proclaims New York "a cesspool" when told the pickup is in the city. Myka laughs when told Helena was last there in 1893. Told she can stay behind, Helena follows anyway, the pair taking the train to avoid driving. Helena tells tales of city adventures with her partner Wolcott as she and Myka make their way uptown. Helena tenses upon arrival at their destination, so much so, Myka can tell something is off.  Later that day, Helena reveals a long buried secret.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2

-----------------

***BONUS SCENES***

After a less than jovial dinner (pictured above), Myka and Helena settle into their hotel room. Myka lounges in bed, already showered, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, nose buried in a book. Helena searches through her luggage after emerging from a shower swathed only in a robe.

"I know dinner wasn't great," Myka says, setting her book on the nightstand, "but something else's off. You've been weirdly touchy all day."

"I apologize for not being, as Claudia might say, 'all sunshine and rainbows.'" Helena yanks a t-shirt out of her suitcase. "Perhaps we should call the whole thing off." 

"What 'thing'?"

"This trip."

"Why?" Myka sits up.

"Because me being sullen is not an anomaly." 

"I know."

"Then why on earth would you subject yourself to that again?" Helena turns to face Myka and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Because you promised when you got like this you'd talk to me and I believed you."

"Fool," Helena says, the word filled with fondness rather than bite.

"Come here," Myka says, patting a spot next to her.

Helena stares at the bed but doesn't move.

"Come here..."

Helena's eyes lift to meet Myka's; the longer they stay locked, the less defiance they hold. She huffs a disgruntled breath but does as she's told. She sits stiffly, arms folded over her chest, back propped up against the headboard.

"Now, tell me what happened in that building," Myka says, laying back, turning to face Helena, head propped up by a hand. "Remember, I said I wouldn't judge you."

"You say that now..." Helena says, glancing at Myka.

"I won't," Myka says, slipping her hand over Helena's and squeezing, dragging it down to her lap, breaking her protective arm-fold.

"Where to begin," Helena grumbles, pressing her eyes closed, head falling back against the wall.

"How about..." Myka scoots up, aligning herself with Helena, all the while keeping hold of her hand. "The first time you were there, finding that artifact."

Helena rolls her head to the side and meets Myka's gaze.

Myka raises her brow and grins expectantly.

"Oh, alright," Helena grumps, sighing deeply, then lifting her head from the headboard.

"Wolly posed as an investor, and I, his wife. He and I were given guest accommodations, courtesy of Gustav Schirmer, a music publisher. We had a vague idea of what the curiosity was but needed time and access to suss out its location."

"I bet you and Wolly made a better couple than Pete and I ever did," Myka quips.

Helena huffs a short laugh. "People like us 'acted the part' on a daily basis. Anything beyond that was an extension of those fabricated selves. One had to switch 'on' any number of personas just to keep safe. It was difficult at times to remember our true selves."

"I'm sorry. That sucks."

"Easier for me than others. Though in that regard, I'm glad society seems to have changed for the better." Helena meets Myka's gaze, her eyes falling to her lips.

"Me too," Myka says as Helena cups her jaw, guiding their mouths together.

Their kiss lingers but as Helena's hand slides to the nape of Myka's neck, Myka pulls away.

"Story first," Myka says, slipping her hand over Helena's, lifting it away.

Helena pouts.

"After." Myka caresses Helena's cheek, then places a soft, brief kiss there. "I promise."

"I shall hold you to that."

"Oh, I know," Myka says, smiling. She settles back and waits as Helena collects her thoughts.

"The Dakota was unique,' Helena begins, "its design, the first of its kind in the world. A playground for 'new money,' miles away from 'civilization' further downtown. Few dared travel that far north, so their soirees were rather insular."

"That's good, right? Easier to find the artifact?" Myka says.

"Indeed. Gustav adored hosting events, along with the Steinways. Guests chased tunes all over the building as engagements spilled between apartments. Wolly and I snooped around gratuitously."

"Steinways...as in the grand-piano-maker Steinways?"

"The very same," Helena mumbles. Her eyes turn distant, a thumb rubbing idly over a knuckle, her hands linked primly on her lap. 

"Did you find the artifact?" Myka asks.

"Hmm? Oh...yes. But it took quite some time," Helena answers. "And along the way, I found something far more profound." She looks down at her lap, her hands pulling away from each other, tensing. 

"What was it?"

"I found my One."

"Y-You had a One?" Myka says, stiffening.

"All too briefly," Helena says, then glances at Myka. "To have found another is a kindness beyond anything I'd ever imagined. I'm sorry it took so long for me to believe it possible."

"You mean me?"

"I do." Helena brings Myka's hand up to her lips and kisses its palm.

"I, um, guess it's silly to be jealous of someone who lived over a hundred years ago. Especially since I know nothing about them." Myka scoots closer, cozying up to Helena. "Will you tell me?"

"Would you like to know?"

"I want to know everything about you."

"That may take some time."

"We have time, don't we?"

"Time has never been my ally. Especially with the ones I love."

"Let's change that." Myka tugs on Helena's sleeve, and the pair slip down to lie prone on the bed. She turns and snuggles up, head pillowed on Helena's shoulder, arm resting across her middle. Helena relaxes into Myka's hold and wraps an arm over Myka's.

"Tell me about your One," Myka says. "Or, your 'first' One."

"She...was an extraordinary woman," Helena answers. "Unlike any I'd ever known. We bonded instantly, which was unusual."

"How did you meet?"

"I caught her hiding from the merriment during a soiree, nose tucked in a book. One Mrs. Elizabeth Westcott." Helena smiles, obviously warmed by the memory.

"Mrs.?"

"A marriage for appearances; personal gain for two up-and-coming families. Residing at The Dakota allowed her husband to carry on extramarital affairs with less scrutiny. He cared little about her own."

"So you and she..."

"If those walls could talk," Helena says, her smile bordering on devilish. "We had several glorious years together before she..." Her smile fades in an instant.

"I'm afraid to ask."

"She died, as one does when one's husband's mistress plots to kill you."

"S-She was murdered?"

"Freak carriage accident. Never proven, but everyone knew. To ensure Elizabeth never gave him an heir, after Christina. The irony being we'd planned on running away to California soon enough--"

"Wait, Christina was Elizabeth's?" Myka lifts her head to look Helena in the eye.

"I loved her as if she were my own," Helena snaps, "spirited her away to England as soon as I could, with the housekeeper's help."

"You stole her?" Myka pushes away, falling back on her elbows, mouth agape.

"I rescued her," Helena barks, jerking upright. "That monstrous woman still had talons in her father. There was no doubt Christina wasn't safe. It's what Elizabeth would have wanted." 

Helena moves to leave, but Myka grabs her arm.

"Don't go," Myka pleads. "I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't judge you."

Helena freezes in place, her heart pounding wildly. A few moments later, she returns to Myka's side.

"Did anyone come looking for her?" Myka asks, pushing forward so as not to leave Helena stewing.

"I don't know. I doubt they could find me as only Elizabeth knew my true identity. And I never set foot in New York again."

"So literally 1893."

Helena nods, the sour look on her face softening. "I'd thought to visit her grave but haven't found the courage."

"You should go. We could go together. It'll give you closure."

"You sound so certain."

"I know it will help. I've loved and lost, too, you know."

"Indeed, you have, my love," Helena says, then sighs heavy-heartedly. "What a pair we make."

"I think we're a good match," Myka says, tugging Helena back to lie flat again. "We could take our minds off it. Make some new, pleasant memories." She slips a hand under the tie of Helena's robe.

"You did make a promise earlier," Helena replies.

"And I always make good on my promises," Myka says, drawing the tie free, brushing a fingertip over newly exposed skin. Helena quivers and relaxes back, offering no resistance as Myka fulfills her word.

End of Episode 3

-TBC-

NOTES: According to the internet, the term "buggin'" was coined in New York City. The fourth elevator really did go missing during The Dakota renovations in the 1960's (pre-landmarking). Thank you to the library for being open so I could borrow books and down some facts as this got way more involved than I meant it to become (but that's part of the fun).

This story format is...in my head, I'm calling it "TV POV." If we were watching the show, we'd see things but not hear the character's thoughts, so that's what I'm going for, I think? Broad strokes and quicker resolutions due to the 45 minute-ish run time (or would this show be a 25 minute one? Hmm.) Let me know if that's not working at all. I mean these are obviously pastiches of content - the images come first then the stories materialize afterwards. They are supposed to be short and clippy - plenty of room for the reader to fill in the blanks - but this one got away from me! Also Tumblr keeps making the second image blurry and I can't figure out why...

[myhauntedsalem]

9 real-life horror stories of people who disappeared and were never found

Tales from the Charley Project highlight strange disappearances from an older, eerier America.

The most terrifying stories out there are often true. And the best versions of those are the ones where the answer can never truly be known. Why else do Jack the Ripper and the Zodiac Killer occupy such outsize places in our collective unconscious?

13 classic scenes that explain how horror movies work

The Charley Project is a database that catalogs people who have disappeared without a trace. The site is a great resource and repository for modern cases, but if you look at its database chronologically, you will find cases from far earlier in the 20th century that will likely never be solved, simply because all involved have passed away.

It’s these cases — from an older America where a disappearance was less likely to turn into a mass media sensation — that haunt the memory the most. They’re a record of a time when so-called “stranger danger” wasn’t a well-known topic, or when a woman could run a business selling kidnapped children to the rich.

Here are a handful of the best historical disappearances contained in the Charley Project’s archives.

1) The Martin Family (Oregon, 1958)

Some of the best details in stories like these have to do with the lives of people the disappeared left behind. What actually happened to the Martin family isn’t much of a mystery — they likely drove off the road on the way home, their car plunging into the river below — but the evocative snapshots of a life never resumed make this entry particularly eerie. It highlights all the mundane details of life that might flash before your own eyes in the instant everything changes.

2) Bobby Dunbar (Louisiana, 1912)

Fans of This American Life will recognize this story, as it was the center of one of the show’s best episodes. When young Bobby Dunbar, just 4 years old, wandered off from his family on a group outing, he was never seen again. It’s possible he fell from a railroad trestle and drowned. It’s also possible he was abducted by a “strange man” who was seen lurking in the area. But we’ll likely never know, because authorities thought they found Bobby Dunbar — and didn’t realize it was another child entirely (who simply stepped into Bobby’s life) until 2004, long after it would have been possible to solve the case.

3) Billy Gaffney (New York, 1927)

When 4-year-old Billy Gaffney was left to play with a 3-year-old friend in the hallway of his Brooklyn apartment building for just a few moments, the two boys disappeared. The 3-year-old was eventually found on the roof of the apartment building, and he said the “boogey-man,” an elderly gentlemen with a gray mustache, had spirited Billy away. Serial killer Albert Fish (who fits the boogey-man description) confessed to Billy’s murder years later, but Billy’s remains have yet to be found.

4) Mary Moroney (Illinois, 1930)

Mary Moroney, just 2, is an example of a recurring motif in the Charley Project’s archives: families desperate for cheap child care during the Great Depression who simply trusted the wrong person. Moroney disappeared after her parents allowed her to spend a day with a woman who called herself Julia Otis. A woman purporting to be Otis’s cousin later wrote to the family to say Otis was “love hungry” after the loss of a husband and child and that she would care for Mary. Mary has never been found and would be in her 80s today. She may still be alive and have no idea who she is.

5) Georgia Weckler (Wisconsin, 1947)

The sad story of the disappearance of Georgia Weckler, 8, is haunting for one specific reason: “Curiously, prior to her disappearance, Georgia had made several remarks indicating that she especially feared being kidnapped.” What prompted this, we’ll likely never know.

6) Evelyn Hartley (Wisconsin, 1953)

The disappearance of Evelyn Hartley is straight out of a horror movie. The teenager was babysitting one evening when she didn’t call to check in with her parents at the appointed time. Her father went to check on her and found a completely locked house with the lights and radio still on — and no Evelyn inside. Signs of a struggle and forced entry led to a desperate search for the girl, but she was never found. Pools of blood that may have belonged to Evelyn, as well as eyewitness accounts of a girl who might have been her, make this story all the more mysterious.

7) Bruce Kremen (California, 1960)

Bruce Kremen disappeared while attending camp. He was playing with a few other boys just a short distance from his group, when he became separated from them and was never seen again. Initially believing him to be lost in the San Gabriel Mountains, authorities mounted a massive search, but were unable to find either the boy or his remains. Now, however, authorities believe him to have come in contact with Mack Ray Edwards, one of America’s least known yet most prolific serial killers, who worked on highway construction and perhaps buried the remains of his victims beneath the asphalt, where they would never be found.

8) Marjorie West (Pennsylvania, 1938)

The West family went out after church for an outing in the country, one that involved Marjorie, 4, and her 11-year-old sister going to pick wildflowers. The sister went to talk to their parents, and Marjorie disappeared from the middle of a wide-open field. This might seem like a standard-issue kidnapping story save for the fact that Marjorie’s life might well have intersected with Georgia Tann, the woman who ran the Tennessee Children’s Home Society. Praised for her ability to find homes for children who needed them, Tann actually abducted more than 1,200 children and then placed them with rich families in far-off states like California — often for a hefty fee. If Marjorie did somehow meet Tann or someone who worked with her, she could be alive today and unaware of her true identity.

9) The Sodder children (West Virginia, 1945)

By far the eeriest story in the Charley Project archives is that of the five Sodder children, who all disappeared under suspicious circumstances on Christmas Eve night. The children (five out of 10 siblings) asked their parents if they might stay up and play with their new toys, rather than go directly to bed. Their parents agreed and turned in for the night, and a series of strange events transpired.

First, the phone rang, the children’s mother answered, and the voice on the other end asked for someone the mother had never heard of.

When she said so, the voice laughed and hung up. The mother later realized all of the lights in the house were on, the shades were drawn, and the doors were unlocked. She awakened again by a sound on the roof, and then she woke up for the final time at 1:30 am with the realization that the house was on fire. She, her husband, and their other five children got out, but the five children who had asked to stay up late never emerged from the inferno. When their father went to climb his ladder up into their bedrooms on the second floor, he could not find it. It was later found dragged away from the house.

The official conclusion was that the children had died in the house fire, but the Sodders never stopped believing their kids were still alive, right up until the two parents died. And they were encouraged by a strange photograph mailed to them in the ’60s, purporting to show one of their sons as a grown adult. Did the Sodder children die in a fire set by never-caught perpetrators? Perhaps. But the tantalizing thought that they might have been kidnapped — might still, indeed, be alive, perhaps in Italy — has kept some sliver of hope that this strange case might find resolution.