#I have a feeling we would have all just died

[fraugwinska]

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done.

I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it!

TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI

Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it.

You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely.

You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained.

Detached from the city you lived in.

Lost.

So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous.

But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty.

It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though.

Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine.

It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human.

Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun."

"Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers.

"You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him.

It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach.

Just like him.

Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower.

It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

Part 2 for closure

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? With him being the team principal for Merc, it was expected that she would also support the team and she did. But, she was and still a tifosi at heart and everyone knows it. So when Carlos wins the Australian GP and Charles P2, she sang her heart out during the national anthem was being played. He could see how much she loved the team and he wouldn't want her to stop supporting it. Because he always knew, whatever happened she would stick by his side no matter what. Just something fluff and sweet. Thanks!! :)))

okay, this is short, but the bachelor fic is really long, but im trying to empty my inbox while writing it, so, a little short :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

toto wolff x female!wife!tifosi!reader

“And um, while we’re on light hearted topics, moving on from Carlos’ miraculous recovery, i do just want to bring up Y/N Wolff, was at today’s race, obviously horrible race for Mercedes, and we really did think she would be quite upset by it, but um, she was later spotted in the Ferrari crowd.” Damon Hill said, trying to avoid getting trampled in the Australian paddock

“Yeah, it was a little odd, we did ask a couple of Mercedes mechanics that we ran into, and they all seemed to know what we were talking about and they all had these knowing smiles, and Shov even quoted Seb saying ‘everyone is a ferrari fan. Even if they say they are not, they are a ferrari fan’ so very odd things going on in the Mercedes garage.” Paul di Resta mentioned

“Let’s um, let’s cut to the footage so you know what we’re talking about.” Damon Hill pointed at the screen.

The Sky broadcast cut to a past shot from the podium. The shot was pretty simple, Y/N standing in her Mercedes shirt, standing out in the sea of red and orange shirts. The anthem and the Italian engineers made it difficult to hear, but her body language and the fact that she was mouthing the words to the Italian National Anthem, with her arm around Fred’s shoulder, swaying side to side.

The camera then panned to Toto, who had an adorable look on his face. It had obviously been a horrible weekend for Mercedes, but he had a grin on his face as he watched Y/N cheering for ferrari. Multiple mechanics were calling out his names as he gazed at his wife looking at the ferrari boys.

“Damn he’s whipped, i think that’s what all the kids are saying these days.” Paul di Resta said

“And speak of the man himself, hey Toto. Got time for a chat?” Damon Hill called out to the tall Austrian, as he walked past. Toto nodded and grabbed a microphone.

“Toto, we obviously saw your wife celebrating the ferrari 1-2, should we be concerned that she is leaving you to join Lewis at Ferrari?” Paul di Resta asked

“No, not at all, whatever happens, I have faith that my wife will stick by my side no matter what. I also don’t think she finds the guys with no hair attractive, so better luck next time Fred.” Toto shrugged before wandering off, probably to find his wife.

--

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

#f1 x reader #miloformula123fan #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff fic #toto wolff #toto wolff x female reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff x y/n

[ldrfanatic]

Slytherin Boys as Tortured Poets Department Songs

*in perspective of their relationship with you AND their personality. and why*

which ts album should i do next?

(mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, theo nott lorenzo berkshire)

slytherin boys masterlist nav

mattheo riddle as Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?

best lyric(s) - "I want to snarl and show you Just how disturbed this has made me. You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me." + "I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean. Don't you worry folks we took out all her teeth." + "That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong."

explanation - Aside from the obvious reasons, I feel like it's not really talked about how damaging it would be to have Voldemort as your father. (or brother or any relative for that matter). To me, this song screams the rage of a person who's been judged their whole life for being a bad person, so they became a bad person. (I am what I am cause you trained me). Other students, most wizards, professors even, all look at mattheo like he's a bomb that's waiting to explode and it makes him really sad when he's a kid, but then when he grows up it just makes him angry. They should be afraid.

mattheo w/his partner - Now, with a partner, I firmly believe that he'd be closer to them than anyone. His partner would be the first person that actually tried to understand him and understand why he's as angry as he is all the time. mattheo really opens up to his partner and tells them about bouncing around orphanages after his mother got thrown into Azkaban for a few years and then going to live with the Malfoys where draco's father treated him like a bad seed that was poisoning his son even though he was doing that to draco himself. so mattheo really treasures the bond he has with his partner because they're the only ones that understand him and understand that he never wanted to become the dark lord's son, he just wanted to be mattheo but the world has made that impossible for him.

draco malfoy as The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

best lyric(s) - "I would've died for you sins, instead I just died inside. And you deserve prison but you won't get time." + "And in plain sight you hid but you are what you did. And I'll forget you but I'll never forgive."

explanation - later in life draco feels completely betrayed by his father. he really admired him and looked up to him as a kid (his parents made sure that he knew how important it was to be a Malfoy), but his father abused that admiration and now draco resents allowing him to manipulate him like that. draco felt incredibly robbed that his father didn't get sent to prison following the battle of hogwarts. he didn't wish to cause his mother any hardship, but secretly he was hoping that the defeat of voldemort would be his golden ticket to finally escape his father's dark shadow. also, i like to think that after harry potter defeated voldemort, draco never spoke to his father ever again. he still exchanges the occasional owl with his mother but he doesn't ever want to see his father again.

draco w/ his partner - draco's partner is someone who he can break down with. after years of being forced to mask his emotions under a cool facade, he's able to fall apart in his partner's arms and know that they won't judge him. they're one of only a few people that know that draco isn't just upset with his father because of his actions. he was upset because he felt like he'd been lied to his entire life and just wanted an explanation. later in life, draco feels incredibly self conscious about a lot of his earlier 'achievements' and if his father only doted on him as a child because he was raising him to be the dark lord's lackey. ultimately, draco really appreciates having someone to confide in, and the upbringing from his parents really makes him appreciate the way that you care for him without any strings or conditions attached.

theodore nott as Florida!!!

best lyric(s) - "So you pack your life away, Just to wait out the shitstorm." + "barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine, well me and my ghosts we had a hell of a time." + "Little did you know your home's really only the town where you'll get arrested."

explanation - after the death of his mother, theo is obviously shaken up. he's actually quite fucked up for pretty much forever. he tries to pack all of his emotions inside and drown them out with drugs and alcohol. when he gets drunk, he doesn't have to deal with his mother not being here anymore. that's why it's not all that surprising when he starts hanging around with the children of death eaters. it is a surprise to him however when he returns to italy to visit his grandmother and she wants nothing to do with him.

theo w/his partner - theo and his partner give enemies to lovers (wild since I dont think i've ever written theo like that) but i firmly believe that he hates his partner in the beginning. why? theo's partner reminds him of his mother. their personality, their soft smile. it's all very reminiscent of his mother and he fucking hates it. At first. He doesn't like the way that being around you brings out the old theo. he doesn't want to lose you in fear that it'll feel like losing his mom all over again. but when theo finally does give into his feelings for you, he starts to cherish the ways that you remind him of his mother (and of course the ways that you don't). he often tells you about how he and his mother dreamed of escaping his father but were never able to.

lorenzo berskhire as Fortnight

best lyric(s) - "And for a fortnight there, we were forever, run into you sometimes, ask about the weather" + "and I love you, it's ruining my life" + "thought of calling you, but you won't pick up"

explanation - lorenzo spends his whole life desperately trying to escape his family. (i think he'd actually be one of the slytherins that fought against the death eaters in the battle of hogwarts). i think that lorenzo would have run away from home multiple times as a child just trying to escape and get some sense of normalcy. but i don't think that it ever would've lasted any longer than a day or two at most before he was found and brought back home (where his uncle was all too happy to try and beat lessons into him). because of this though, lorenzo would be the kind of person who's always trying to protect others.

lorenzo w/ his partner - because lorenzo is always trying to protect you and knows that his family would ruin you just to get at his emotions, when the death eaters take control of the ministry, he breaks up with you. he actually stays away from you for years following the war as well. all he has are his memories of his brief but happy moments with you. his love for you haunts him for this entire time. and then, he runs into you one day in diagon alley. it's a little awkward at first but the two of you actually rekindle the love that you once had and this time, he's all in.

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4.23.24

wc 1.2k

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taglist

@moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

#slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfo #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader

[echos-gal]

ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!

(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)

SEASON 2:

right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???

in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.

one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....

Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)

Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.

"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?

Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.

i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.

SEASON 3:

this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.

"domicile." that is all.

CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.

"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.

CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.

he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.

it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:

firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.

Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.

the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!

we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."

Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.

feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.

likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.

CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.

it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.

we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.

this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.

leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.

FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!

give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!

we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!

the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.

Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?

yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎

the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.

FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE

it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.

i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.

secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)

#i definitely forgot some points but i just need to post this and be done with it #feel free to add your own observations 👀 #tbb tech #the bad batch #tech lives #techphee #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, but I kinda wanna talk about the panic attack conversation with new context, because here's the thing, the wording of that conversation is very on purpose. And Buck is calling Eddie out in a very specific way because what Buck is saying is actually "if you love me you're not going to do that to her" but like, everything about that conversation is crazy. Buck is checking in in a way I feel he's very entitled to considering that he gets Chris if something happens to Eddie, so if Eddie is seeing cardiologists, something might be wrong and I think Eddie gave up the right to privacy about his health when he signed his will, but like, does Buck assume the problem is the shooting because he is still anxious about it? And like, Buck is assuming things are fine with Ana, we have no reason to believe things aren't fine with Taylor, but you don't talk about a relationship you want to be in as just fine, and Buck is talking about loving someone who doesn't love him enough to be all the way in and he's talking about Abby, but is he? The will reveal was a love confession. But halfway done. It was a shield. Eddie hiding behind Chris. "My kid loves her" "Is that enough?". Is Buck saying your kid loves me. You offered him to me. What does it mean? Is that all it takes? If that's all it takes then why aren't you all the way in with me? Why does all I get is a maybe under a condition I can't live with? "Somehow we became a ready made family and I don't know if I'm ready for that" Buck has been taking care of Chris since he found out Chris existed. Someone assumed Eddie, Chris and Buck were a family months into them knowing each other. Is Buck seeing that as Eddie being scared of any type of family? Is Buck seeing that as Eddie being scared of his place in Chris' life? Does he think Eddie would freak out if it was him? That's pretty much the only situation where we see Buck seem genuinely mad at Eddie. Eddie confessed his love hiding behind his child, now he's having all these feelings about someone assuming Ana's place in their life. Is Buck feeling as rejected there because he has no way of knowing if Eddie wouldn't react like that if someone assumed that about them? Because the will is a love confession but is one that Buck can't accept. In his head that is conditional. And the price is something he will never be willing to pay. "If you don't want to hurt Ana, you owe it to her to be honest" "come on, Eddie, if you're not gonna be honest with Frank, at least be honest with me", "look, man, you don't need to pretend with me" was Buck begging for clarification? Was Buck asking if he's allowed to want this? Has Buck been daring Eddie to say it again because he doesn't know if he read what happened right since Eddie didn't mention it again and he can't risk being wrong? Is the miscommunication of this situation even deeper than we imagined? Did Eddie assume Buck rejected what he offered while Buck assumed Eddie didn't love him enough to offer everything? Does Eddie understand that while he offered everything, he put a condition to it that Buck will never take because Buck needs him too much to even consider? Does Eddie understand that he offered Buck everything he ever wanted and put it just out of his reach in a place Buck would never dare to reach for anyway, because he thinks the only way he gets there is if Eddie dies and Eddie dying means he's not actually getting everything he wanted? I wrote in a fic once "I can't ask for more of you, Eddie" "everything is already yours", but do they even realize that that's what's going on? That they are imagining obstacles that could be solved if they were just honest with each other the way they keep begging the other to be? Do they even understand that the only thing between them is the way they keep assuming things and acting on that assumption instead of just asking for clarification? "You don't need to decide right now" does Buck think that Eddie not telling him again means he made a decision already? Are they just looking at each other thinking they can't reach for it????????

Are they just trapped in the moment that gun went off watching the other fall away and helpless to do anything about it??????

#im gonna go crazy #911 #thoughts thoughts thoughts #buddie #buddie thoughts

[darkwolf989]

AWWW I just read your Val & Vox with a little girl and its so so cute!! Can I maybe request a one shot of Vox as a girl's dad too? Like his daughter in life getting to hell in her late teens, and now Vox has to deal with the change in taking care of her because he only knew how to take care of her as a child before he died. Thank youu 💖💙

This request. Could have gone in SO MANY FUN WAYS! Let me know your feedback and thoughts! Enjoy- I can do a part two if you like it!!

I downed my tenth cup of coffee and adjusted myself in my chair. My head pounded and I hoped that just a few more drops of the life-giving liquid would keep the exhaustion at bay long enough to get this project done. I hit the call button on the intercom in my office.

“Charles! Another cup!” 

Ten seconds. Enough of a break. I turned my attention back to the document on my computer. 

My assistant brought in another cup right away. “Ms. Reader, don’t you think you’re getting carried away?” 

“I said coffee. Not lip. Order me a raspberry mocha from the shop down the street and have it here in exactly twenty minutes.” I responded as I continued to type. 

He bowed his head. “As you wish. Mr. Vox asked for an update. What should I tell him?”

I paused for a half a moment. “Tell my Dad it will be ready well before the deadline.” 

I looked back down and continued to type. It had been a month since I first found myself in hell. It took my father no time to locate me- though his reaction wasn’t what I expected. 

“Babygirl, you grew up.” He said as I sat across from him in his perfectly manicured office. A pained expression crossed his face. “Tell me, what did you do in your human life to land you in my office? And so young too…how old are you now? Eighteen?”

Sixteen. I thought to myself. An idea began to form. He didn’t remember my age- that could work to my advantage. After all, acting older than I was was a skill I acquired, and I was more than used to my own independence. I crossed my arms. “Eighteen. I’ve been running your company since I was thirteen.” That much, at least, was true. “What do you think got me here? Your business skills weren’t the only thing I inherited.” 

He sighed. “The same thing that brought me here. Fine.” 

He reached out to touch my face and I jerked away. He was a stranger to me, gone from my life when I was six. My mother tried to keep his company on Earth going, but she didn’t have the business skills I did. And when she passed the company fell to my hands with contingencies. Overnight I became the voice- the face of the company, running between me and the board. 

When I passed she was the first person I looked for. Not that I thought I’d find her- and I was right. She went up, and we went down. My dad and his company found me shortly after, and I wasn’t in the slightest surprised to find he was as much of a go getter down here as he was when he was alive, the sole owner of VoxTech. 

But as I sat in his office across from him, memories of him in life blossomed. Soft words. Snuggles. Hugs and kisses. All the comfort that was ripped away the day he left us, left me. 

“You’re going to need a place,” he continued. “A place to stay. A job. I can give you all those things. Keep you safe.”

My other option was the streets of hell. An unappealing choice at best. And so, I accepted the role he offered and the responsibilities that came with it. I was determined to show my father that I was a hardworking girlboss, worthy of his faith in me. 

“And send,” I said aloud as I finished the final drop of my mocha. My head felt fuzzy and my chest definitely buzzed but it was worth it. I opened my inbox. The time on the clock read ten- I had finished with several days to spare. Might as well keep going. 

I didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew I startled awake to the feeling of a hand on my wrist. 

“Hey, hey baby girl. Take a deep breath, it’s just me.” My dad said. 

I shifted and realized he had covered me with his jacket. I tried to sit up and realized I wasn’t in my office anymore. Instead, I laid on the couch in his.

Fuck. The project. Did I submit it?

“Wh-what time is it? I’m late, I still need…” I sat up.

Vox pushed me back down. “No. You need to lay down. You’re exhausted and your pulse is really high. The doctor is on his way up to look at you. When was the last time you went home to bed?” 

Three days ago. But I didn’t want to tell him that, so instead I remained silent. Vox let out a soft chuckle. 

“You haven’t changed all that much, have you?” He asked as he smoothed back my hair. “You used to do this when you were little too. Play so hard you fell asleep where you were. I used to pick you up and put you to bed, and you were so exhausted you didn’t wake up.”

“Is that how I got here?” I asked.Throbbing pain pulsed through my skull and I closed my eyes as I pressed my head into my hands. “Ugh, my head hurts.” 

“Yeah. Your assistant found you passed out on your desk around midnight. He called me right away.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my arm and hit a button. “When was the last time you drank water? Or ate anything?” Concern oozed from his voice. “I found like twenty empty coffee cups in your office.”

“I had coffee. I’m good. Lived on it back home. Live on it here.” I winced as the cuff grew tighter on my arm. “I’m fine, Dad.” 

“You’re not. And I want numbers while we wait for the doctor to get here. What were you thinking?” He placed the back of his hand on my head. “Com’on you’re smarter than that.” 

I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m not a child, Dad.”

“Maybe not anymore, but you’ll always be my baby,” he replied calmly. “So will you relax and let me be your dad for a moment?” 

I relented and let him fuss until the doctor came in. Vox stood with his arms crossed until I got the all clear. 

“Just cut down on the caffeine, plenary of fluids, and get a few days of rest, and you’ll be fine in no time,” the doctor said finally. He scribbled a few things on his notepad. “Quick question. How old are you, exactly? Because your father says eighteen, but my records show sixteen.” 

I saw Vox turn to look at me, a mix of fury and annoyance on his face. Shit. He grabbed the clipboard from the doctor and scanned the sheet. Realization flooded his face. 

“Rest and fluids, that I can do,” I said loudly as I pulled myself up to standing. “Dad, you don’t mind if I cut out a few minutes early, do you?”

Vox swallowed and looked at me. “You told me you were twenty.”

“Actually, I said eighteen.” I replied, “not that it matters.”

“Oh, it does matter.” He said, his voice laced with anger. “You lied to me.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been on my own running your company for three years. But anyway, I’m going home, Dad. See you tomorrow.” I went to walk out the door and he caught my wrist. 

“Oh fuck no. You think I’m going to let my teenage daughter waltz out of here after all this? No. You’re coming home with me. End of discussion. And consider yourself suspended from work for the time being. 

I felt myself freeze. “You can’t fire me, this is my job!” 

He laughed darkly. “Oh honey! You work for me. Consider it your punishment for lying to your Boss.” He stood up. “Let’s go. You’re not staying in that apartment by yourself. You’re sixteen.” He shook his head. “You’re sixteen.”

“Then where am I staying?” I asked, crossing my arms as unease flooded through me.

“Home. With me. Where you belong.” He said firmly as he pressed his hand to my shoulder. 

I felt myself deflate but again, seeing no other option, I let him guide me to the elevator. Three floors later, the elevator opened and I followed him into a spacious living room.

“I’ll have your things taken from your apartment and moved into the fourth bedroom,” he said as he gave me the tour. 

“I’ve been on my own for a month in hell, and even longer before then,” I protested. “I know how to live by myself.”

He stopped walking and turned his head. “Then I guess it’s about time you learned how to be a teenager then, hm?” 

Anger flooded through me. “That isn’t fair! Dad!”

Vox gave me a grin. “There. That’s a great start! But seriously, you’re grounded.”

“You can’t ground me!”

He practically puffed himself up. “You’re sixteen and I’m your dad. Of course I can. And you are.” He pushed open the door “and this is your room. You can redecorate as you please.”

I stepped inside. “Wait, this is my room?”

Easily twice the size of my little apartment, the bed alone took up the center of the room. It’s current color scheme was neutral, with huge windows overlooking the city. 

“Yeah, like I said, order whatever you want and I’ll have Velvette…”

“Aunt Velvette?!” I asked, excitement washing over me. 

“You remember her?” He asked in a surprised voice. “Do you remember Valentino too?” He leaned against the doorframe and waited for my reaction. 

I turned around. “Uncle Val? The badass mafia mobster that used to come over and toss me in the pool when you guys got tired of doing it?”

“Hey, who told you he was a mobster?” Vox asked as I continued to look around the room.

“Mom.” 

He sighed. “Of course she did. Well, she wasn’t wrong. But yes. One and the same. We met up in hell and we-“

“Continue to rule together as much as you did in life. Got it,” I replied. “Did you not tell them I was here? In the building this whole time?”

Vox shrugged. “I was hoping to get to know you a bit more before I let them know you were here. But I wanted to give you some time to settle in first. After all, I thought you were an adult. Time…time passes differently down here.”

“Reader? Is that really you?” I heard an excited voice yell from the hallway.

My head turned. I knew that voice. Velvette pushed past Vox and she and Valentino practically ran over to me. 

“Aww, my little Princessa! All grown up I see!” My Uncle Val lifted me up and spun me around like I was five. He kissed me on the forehead and set me down. 

Shock flooded through my body as I looked at them both in their demon forms. Seeing my Dad with a TV shaped head was one thing- it made sense with what he did. Aunt Velvette still looked the same but Uncle Val? He looked…scarily different. Purple skin, sharp teeth. The only thing that stayed the same was his signature heart shaped glasses. 

“Valentino, chill. You spooked her.” Velvette scolded. “It’s been what, how many years?”

“Wait- where is Uncle Al?” I asked 

My father glitched. “We don’t talk about him. Not after what he did to me.” 

“What did he do?” I asked in confusion. 

“Ah, no. Princessa. Baby. You’ll get your daddy all worked up. We don’t want or need that,” Valentino scolded.

I crossed my arms and took a defensive stance. “I’m not five. And I’ve been an adult for a long, long time.” 

“Yeah, why don’t you tell us all about that? Over dinner.” Vox said, slinging his arm over my shoulder. “After all, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a family dinner.”

He didn’t know the half of it.

#valentino x reader #the vees #valentino x you #hazbin fluff #hazbin hotel #vox x reader #the vees x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #voxval #vees #vox the tv demon #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette

[daenerysies]

deep diving into the episode three line from rhaenyra, “no one is here for me,” and how if the takeaway from that scene is that rhaenyra is a selfish brat you aren’t proficient enough to do anything past surface-level reading.

in episode one rhaenyra expresses to alicent that she hopes her father gets his son, “for as long as i can recall it’s all he’s wanted.” which leads us (the audience) to understand that while rhaenyra loves both of her parents she feels ostracized from her father (and mayhaps even her mother, to some extent, because of her constant pregnancies) due to his ‘need’ for a son to continue the targaryen dynasty. she is a daughter, only seen as valuable for her womb, which is evidenced that she knows about when talking to her mother. rhaenyra wishes to be a knight and ride off to battle and glory, with aemma giving her a gentle reality check on her lot in life. she does not want to serve the same purpose as her mother.

aemma dies near the end of the episode, with viserys ordering her butchered for the chance that his long-awaited male heir might live. this is a violent and gruesome scene, followed by rhaenyra not even being given the privilege of hearing her mother’s death first. she is instead relegated to members of the small council being alerted, even corlys and rhaenys learning about this before her, she is a silent member on the sidelines. she does not know the extent of what has happened, but she knows that something is wrong.

we have to think about how she learns of her mother’s fate. did otto tell her? did rhaenys? did viserys? did she see her mother’s body ripped open? did she see the bloody sheets left at the scene? was she allowed to hold baby baelon, considering he didn’t die immediately? was she there when he took his last breath? maybe it would bring her some comfort, she didn’t get to say goodbye to her mom. maybe she held him until he passed. did her father offer any explanation? we’ll never know, but these are all such heavy questions in regards to what she experienced that day. she’s fourteen, has spent her entire life watching her mother grieve dead baby after dead baby, losing little bits of herself in the process. it’s no wonder this was a traumatizing period for her, fueling her want (her need) to not be shackled down by marriage and childbirth.

even at her mother and brother’s funeral she isn’t allowed to just grieve, to just be. she has to hold her head high, she has to comfort her father, she has to order their corpses burned. was her father happy for the few hours he had a son? she wouldn’t know, she never will be that for him. how long does he spend wallowing is his self pity? he admonishes daemon for not being there for his niece, but where was he, her father? he banishes daemon, takes comfort from his daughter’s best friend. he finally comes to her, tells her of a great danger rising from the north; from my blood comes the prince that was promised, his will be the song of ice and fire. she hasn’t heard from him in days, a targaryen must be seated on the iron throne to unite the realm against the cold and the dark. her mother is dead, and he has wasted the years since she was born wanting a son. she is now enough, her mother never was.

it has now been six months since her mother's death (murder), and she has been heir the *entire* time. her father won't talk to her, she is still the cupbearer for the small council. lord corlys is angry about a war he says has cost him, the crown will not help. she suggests they use dragons, a show of force against their enemies. her father admonishes her, "it isn't that simple, rhaenyra." he allows the lords at the table to belittle her efforts. the only one appreciative is corlys, "at least the princess has a plan." otto says there are better uses for her talents, she has been heir to the iron throne for six months. she's been given the chance to choose a future kingsguard, she wants one with actual combat experience. the hand is exacerbated, she is firm in her decision. ser criston cole will be the replacement for ser ryam redwyne.

alicent has been visiting her father in his private chambers secretly, corlys wants his daughter to be the next queen. viserys begins openly courting lady laena of house velaryon. rhaenyra and alicent visit the sept, she expresses her worry, her mother has only dead for half a year. the lords seek to replace her, alicent convinces her that she cannot worry about the plots of lords and men, she is the heir, however. why shouldn't she worry? she misses her mother.

she meets with her father, he reassures her, "i loved your mother very much." she apologizes for speaking out of turn at the small council meeting, he tells her she will learn (will he be the one to teach her, though?) daemon has taken a dragon's egg and seized dragonstone, bringing news of his future marriage to lady mysaria. the king means to go himself to stop him, otto will not let him. daemon took baelon's egg. rhaenyra is angry. she reaches dragonstone just after otto's party, she knows they were about to come to blows. she confronts daemon, she is the reason he was disinherited. if he kills her, he'd be done with all this bother. daemon scoffs, walking away from her. he throws the egg whilst still retreating. rhaenyra smiles and leaves. her father is mad once he learns what she's done. she left without his permission, but she retrieved the egg and prevented bloodshed, he should be pleased with her efforts. otto would never have been able to accomplish what she did, he relents.

rhaenys lectures her about the order of things. the realm will never accept a woman ascending the iron throne, but it's different for her. her father is the king, rhaenys' father dies as a prince. her father made the lords of the realm swear obeisance to her, rhaenys never had such a thing. the lords chose viserys over rhaenys at the great council, viserys has not given them a choice. rhaenys is the the queen who never was, rhaenyra is the queen to be. when she is queen she will create a new order, rhaenys warns there will be war (unfortunately she is right).

another meeting takes place between father and daughter. he must take a new wife, someone to help propagate the targaryen line. they are vulerable, to easily ended. rhaenyra understands, it is his duty as king. obviously he will marry laena, the daughter of one of the most powerful houses in the realm and of pure valyrian stock, it is a fine match. alicent is still visiting her father in secret.

her father calls a small council meeting, he means to announce his next wife. rhaenyra is ready, she gave him her blessing (why is alicent here? she never has been before.) her father starts speaking, "i intend to marry... the lady alicent hightower." corlys is enraged, otto is pleased, alicent is anxious. rhaenyra was ready, it has all fallen apart. alicent is her best friend, that friendship dies before her very eyes. she runs from the room.

it has been two years. viserys and alicent are married, and they have a son, with one more baby on the way. the boy's name is aegon, it is his second birthday. he has past his infancy, the lords believe it is only a matter of time until the king names him heir, rhaenyra is well aware of this. the queen visits the godswood where rhaenyra sits. she overrides rhaenyra's authority, commanding the singer to leave. she states the king wishes for her to join them, he wants them to have fun as a family. they do not need her to celebrate his long-awaited son. it is the king's command, she leaves unhappily. alicent wishes for things to be different, rhaenyra knows they never can be.

together they all sit, traveling towards the kingswood. rhaenyra asks after alicent's well-being, viserys reminds her that she will be in this position sooner than late (the same position that killed her mother). "it isn't so bad, the days are long but aegon came quickly and without fuss." the queen states. rhaenyra is hurt, she tries not to show it. the king reminds her she has duties, rhaenyra retorts sarcastically. how long will these duties last, once her father names alicent's son as heir over her? her life will be forfeit before long. no one is here for her.

"no one is here for me." translates to "no one has been here for me. i’ve been alone and angry and terrified for years. i am my father’s heir, but what does that mean? what will it cost? you put me here. daemon put me here. alicent put me here. you have a son now, he outlived baelon and my other siblings. how long until i am cast aside again? made to be some petty lord's wife, made to be a broodmare until it kills me? i don't want to end up like my mother. this heirship is all i have. it will soon no longer be mine. i'm only seventeen. no one is here for me."

rhaenyra is never shown the same amount of grace as alicent for her strifes and anguish in life, for the fact that she too was a child from episodes one through five. rhaenyra might not have been a child bride, but she still spent her life being told she was never enough. she was not a boy, she could not be the heir, her father needed an heir. he kills her mother for it, he ignores her unless she can benefit him. he makes her believe that he will marry laena, only to blindside her by marrying alicent. she realizes alicent has been lying to her for months. her father continues to undermine her throughout the years. he names her heir to spite daemon, which she admits she knows about in episode two. he allows the lords to ignore her. it takes him two years to reassure her he won't replace her. rhaenyra is an angsty teen who has seemingly lost everything and has no support to counter that. she is not upset that no one showed up to a two-year-olds birthday party with her in mind, she is upset that her father continuously overlooks her, that he takes and takes and takes everything from her. he took her mother, he took daemon, he took alicent, he had a son. she has not been able to catch a break due to her father's selfishness. in all honesty, she should have acted out worse, maybe burn everything to the ground. viserys would deserve it, she was far too lenient with him.

#house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra targaryen #in defense of rhaenyra targaryen #anti viserys i targaryen #team black #pro team black #anti team green #anti team green stans #hotd meta #i wrote most of this within the past two hours #if you see any typos no you didn't #putting the anti tg tags bc its always them calling rhaenyra a selfish brat #that is my wife i will not let you slander her

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 1

A/ N:I’m horrible at exposition so bare with me through this one. It feels a little clunky to me but this sets up a lot for the rest of the series. This is also the longest thing I’ve written outside of my senior thesis so… I have this series fully planned out and now that I’m back from vacation I should be able to work on it a lot more. 

Anyways, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for it! 

Warnings: Spring court slander (implied trauma), nightmares. Drinking. I think that’s all but feel free to let me know if I should add anything! 

Wc- ~10k

Previous part: here

We’re coming home. 

I ran up to my brother. Desperately pulling on Rhys’ arm and I felt him stumble back into me. He remained frozen, eyes locked on the female in front of him. Her and Rhys were clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation. But I wanted to go home. When I shouted Rhys’ name, his head flickered to me before looking back at Feyre. I saw his body tense, eyes going wide and it was instinct that had me grabbing his arm and winnowing us to Velaris.

The smell instantly calms me in a way I haven't felt in fifty years. Once my vision had fully focused, 

“She’s my mate”, nothing above a whisper. My head snapped over to him. Mate. That explained his reaction. I felt the guilt in my stomach at pulling him away from Feyre. My arms are already reaching to pull Rhys towards me into a hug. As my arms wrapped around him, he sobbed into my shoulder.

This wasn’t the Rhys I had come to know under the mountain. Sob after sob left his mouth and his precious wings dropped to the ground. I knew this was more than the reaction of a male who had his mate taken from him. This was my brother who had to watch his mate be in love with someone else after years of suffering. The cauldron had finally granted him a mate only to have her ripped away from him.

“I’m sorry” was all I could think to say. So many reasons for being sorry. Sorry for all he went through. Sorry for not being strong enough to stop it. Sorry that the female the mother had chosen for him was in love with the High Lord of Spring, and had willingly died for him. Sorry that I stole away what little time he had spent with her. 

Rhys let out another sob against my shoulder and it shook me to my core. I have heard him cry over Amarantha many times but seeing him break over Feyre was enough for me to want to march to spring and drag her to Velaris. But she wouldn’t want that. I know Rhys would have my head on a spike if I even offered. 

We both turned around at the sound of the door opening. Mor stood in silence, eyes scanning over us. Noticing our embrace. She stepped up to us and a soft smile crossed her face. 

“Tell me about your mate, Rhys.”

That was all it took for the flood gates to open. We did more than recall the details about the last few months. Rhys and I cherry picking only the most vital and important details. We kept a few things close to our chests. Those would stay our nightmares alone, Mor didn’t need to be haunted with our ghosts as well. 

Mor sat patiently before she finally interrupted. “She’s really dead?” Rhy freezed at the mention of Amarantha. I lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and answered for him. “Yes. But I don’t think this is over.” Mor just nodded sharply, looking at I both before she launched herself at both of I, arms coming up to wrap around my brother and myself. 

“If either of you ever do something that stupid again, I’ll kill you myself.” Her voice didn’t hold any malice, instead it shook with tears. My heart jumped as I left the weight of her emotions wash over me. The pain in my chest tightened as I realized how much our absence has truly shaken our family. I knew, of course, but seeing it was entirely different. 

The three of us began to settle and I finally had time to get my bearings in the house. As I let the glow of the house wrap around I. A familiar scent caught my attention, and my whole body sang. My head whipped around, looking for the source of that pine and night air, looking for Azriel.  Cas too of course but Azriel was on the front of my mind.  

Mor’s smile tilted slightly. “They should be back soon.” She sighed “They just went to the camps to check on all of them” She paused, stumbling over words  “ when we got that message from you, someone thought the most important thing was letting the camp leaders know that they had a high lord to answer to again.” This didn’t surprise me at all. Of course they would want, need, to fill in the Illyrian warriors that were now back under Rhys command with his return, Cassian having to take over that helm by nature of his position. It would be a fight, but one for a different day. 

         I wanted nothing more than to see the rest of my family and responsibilities be damned. I wanted to see them now. It had already been almost 50 years and in theory another day wouldn’t hurt but the house felt empty without the loudness of Cassian’s voice booming. It felt cold without Azriel’s shadows stirring around. 

As if Mor could sense my unease, she lightly grabbed my wrist and started pulling me deeper into the house. “I have so many books I need to show you.” That was all it took for me to laugh. Mind reeling as I tried to remember the last time I had truly laughed. 

The library was just as I had remembered it. The smell of old parchment and leather filled the space. Fires kept the room warm and light and I wanted that feeling to sink down into my bones. 

Mor gave me the space to just absorb my favorite room in the house. Rhys had given me full reign over how it was decorated. Comfy chairs that could accommodate wings and backless chairs tufted with fabric that looked like they were made of stardust were spread over the large room. The heavy wooden desk I had put in was covered in stacks of books. 

“I put all the ones I knew you would like over there.” Mor spoke up when she saw my eyes lock on the countless books. I felt my throat tighten up with tears at the thought she must have put behind the seemingly small action. It wasn’t uncommon for Mor and I to swap books as we finished them. Mostly so we could sit and talk about them for hours together. Mor and I spent many nights on the couches I had put in, falling asleep with our respective books still clutched in our hands. 

Looking at the stacks, a rough count told me there had to be over a hundred books, easily. 

“Looks like I have some serious reading to do.” I laughed. She beamed a smile at me. 

“Those are just the ones I knew you would like,” She walked over to one of the bookcases in front of the desk. “These are all the others that I need you to read so I can scream about them.”

Three whole shelves in total. It would take me gods know how long to get through them. I voiced that much. Mor waved me off. 

“You have all the time in the world to read them. It doesn’t have to happen all at once, but I’m not letting anything happen to you again. You’ll have time to read them all.” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft. I turned to look at her and I saw the pink speckling her cheeks and right above her lips, the tell-tale signs that she was trying not to cry. I placed the book I had just picked up and threw my arms around her, squeezing her as tight as I possibly could. She nuzzled her head against my shoulder and all I could do was try to hold her tighter. 

By the time we pulled away from the hug, we were both a crying, giggling mess. I forgot how much I loved spending time with Mor. Regardless of how much I cared for my brothers, Mor and I were two sides of the same coin. Plus the boys wouldn’t sit and discuss the pure filth that tended to grace the pages of the books I devoured. 

“So, what one should I start with?” 

She all but squealed as she started flipping through the piles with me. We organized as we went. Placing them in piles of order that I should read them in. A few of the series I had been following had new installments that would most likely require a reread so those got placed on the back burner for the, now older, favorites she was dying to talk about. From there we were able to pick out one of her more recent favorites that had me itching to crack open immediately. She picked out one from her own pile across the room and the both of us settled into silence, the only sound was the fireplace cracking and pages turning. 

I don’t know how late it was when Rhys softly opened the door to sneak into the room. My eyes were starting to get dry from how little I was blinking, desperate to get through one more chapter before I called it a night. Something I had voiced to Mor about ten chapters ago. Mor who now was asleep on her own couch, her hair pooling over the edge almost touching the floor from the uncomfortable angel her head had fallen into. 

“The books will still be here after you’ve gotten some sleep,” Rhys said in a gentle mocking tone. Mor stirred slightly at his voice but remained sleeping. “Come on, I’d be an awful High Lord, and an even worse brother, if I let you fall asleep in the library on your first night home.” I nodded at his words. Truthfully, I couldn’t care less where I slept but for some reason, I could tell it mattered to Rhys. It would honestly be more normal for me to fall asleep anywhere but my room. Whether it be in the library or the large sectional in the living room or the comfy chairs on the rooftop, I rarely ever slept in my own bed. Rhys had ensured that every surface of the house was as comfortable as possible to account for this but I didn’t push or argue with him as I untucked my legs from underneath me and stood up. I debated leaving Mor to sleep but didn’t want her to wake up all alone. Reaching out a hand, I placed it on her shoulder and gave her a small shake. She groaned but opened her eyes anyway. 

“We’re being banished to our rooms.” I joked and pointed over the Rhys. She let out an even louder groan. 

“Overprotective bat.” Even Rhys laughed at her words. 

“Come on, before he carries us himself.” I held out a hand and I could see Mor contemplating just rolling back over and going back to sleep but she grabbed my hand. Pulling slightly, I helped her to her feet and she rolled her neck slowly. No doubt trying to work out whatever kink was starting to develop due to half of her head hanging off the thin couch. The three of us walked down the hallway to our rooms. Sleepily stumbling to doors. We reached Mor’s first and before she slipped in, she gave me another tiny hug and another to Rhys. 

“I love you guys,” Sleep was evident in the way she almost drunkenly stumbled over her words. I returned the sentiment and she was slipping into her bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her. 

Rhys and I stood outside her bedroom for a little longer, until we saw the light from under the door flicker out. Eventually, we continued walking until we got to my door. There was a slight pause as I turned the handle. Rhys and I would normally be curled up in my bed under the mountain by now. I vaguely thought about asking him to stay the night. Not that I think either of us were truly going to be able to sleep. As tired as I felt, I was afraid that if I closed my eyes for too long I was going to wake up and this was all going  to be a cruel dream.    

Rhys seemed to pick up on my hesitancy. “I can walk in with you. If you’re…”:

“Please.” I interrupted him. He gave me a soft smile and gestured for me to open the door. 

Nothing was out of place. The room smelt like my favorite perfume and when I looked around, there was no dust to be found. Someone had spent the time still cleaning the room while I was gone. I don’t know why that touched me as much as it did but as I looked around I felt all the unshed tears finally starting to take its toll. A sob ripped its way from my chest and Rhys’ arms were around me in an instant. 

He shushed me softly, rocking me slightly. “We made it. We’re free. We’re back home.” He repeated over and over until I had cried myself out. I pulled out of his embrace and wiped away the stray tears. Shaking my head at my outburst I muttered a thank you to my brother. 

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be just across the hall if you need anything,” He says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nodded and he gave me a sad smile as he walked out of the room. 

I wandered over to my dresser, fished around until I pulled out the first pair of pajamas I came across. I hastily pulled my clothes off and as I went to pull the nightgown over my head, I realized the layer of grim that was clinging to my skin. A bath was definitely needed before I climbed into my warm bed.        

The tub was already full and scalding hot by the time I had finished pouring in an obscene amount of oils and bath salts. Sinking in, I sighed out in relief as the heat enveloped me. Muscles in my neck and back released as I leaned my head against the edge of the tub. I picked up the sponge on the edge and started to wash myself off. After countless minutes of scrubbing, despite my raw skin I still didn’t feel clean. Huffing, I threw the sponge across the bathroom and pulled my knees up to my chest. I just sat curled up around myself until the water started to cool down. And it was still another handful of minutes before I could manage to pull myself upright and step out of the bath. I shivered at the temperature difference. Hugging my towel closer to my body, I quickly ran bacon into my room and threw the nightgown over my head. I burrowed underneath my comforter and tried to close my eyes. 

I tossed and turned until I started pleading with the mother, the cauldron, anyone that would listen to let me go to sleep. I was bone tired but everytime I closed my eyes something made me snap them open a few moments later. Every creek of the house had my ears prickling. Has the house always been this loud? I wondered how I never noticed it before. How I ever slept with all the noise. It was then I remembered that, if my room truly haven't been messed with since I had left, that I still had a sleeping tonic from when I had cracked a few ribs. Fae healing or not, ribs always were a pain to heal. Majda had given me a tonic to make me sleep so I could actually heal without Cassian making me laugh them out of place. I flung myself out of bed and padded over to my vanity. The small bottle of purple liquid still sat , half drank/ Uncorking it, I prayed that sleeping potions didn’t go bad and took a tentative sip. Fighting back a gag at the foul taste, I put the cork back on the top and walked back to my bed. The medicine had its desired effect. Not a minute later I felt my eyelids flutter close and  this time they stayed closed until I could sense the sun high in the air signaling the next day had come. 

Knocking on my door made me finally crawl out of bed. Goraning at having to leave the warmth, I flung open the door and was staring a slightly startled Rhys in the face. He held a small tray in front of him, stacked high with various foods. 

“I didn’t want to wake you up. You slept through breakfast and lunch and I  didn’t know what you would want so I brought a little of everything.” He spoke the words so fast that in my half awake state I struggled to keep up with them. I gestured for him to come in so he could place the tray on my bed. 

“Have you eaten?” I raised an eyebrow at him as I picked up a large strawberry.. His look told me that he had, in fact, not eaten. I pointed to my bed. “Sit and eat.” I barked, mouth full of strawberries. He laughed at some silent joke and picked up a piece of toast covered in some fruit jam. We were quiet as we ate, picking apart the platter he had brought in. Truly too much for one person to eat. Once we were both full, I wiped off my hands on my comforter and finished swallowing my last bite before I asked Rhys. “What do you have on the agenda for today?” He stilled and picked at a piece of lint on his sweater. 

“Not a lot. I’m trying to organize a meeting with the High Lords of the other courts to just debrief after everything.” He shrugged like that wasn’t going to be the hardest meeting to organize. “There are some young high lords and with all the aftermath of this…We just need to all talk this out.” I nodded along with him. The courts would need some time to bounce back after this but from the way things had seemed under the mountain, we didn’t have that time. As much as I prayed to be wrong about this, war was on the horizon and we would need to have the courts functioning as much as possible if we were going to stand a chance against Hyberns forces. Amarantha was just a taste of the power that he had, an experiment of sorts. 

Mor knocked on the open door before she walked in and plopped down next to Rhys. She took note of our stern faces but didn’t say anything. Instead, she swiped one of the sandwiches off of the tray and shoved half of it in her mouth in one bite. “You, me, library.” Was all she said before she turned on her heel and walked out of the room. 

“Well I know what you’re doing for the rest of the day.” Rhys laughed as I started to scramble to get dressed. I was about to start changing when I noticed he hadn't moved from his perch on my bed. “Get out!” I scratched at him and all but pushed him out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. His laugh echoed off the empty halls outside my door. 

In record time, I was running down the halls to the library. Mor was already sitting, her book curled against her chest. She didn’t look up from  her book as she pointed to the one I had abandoned last night. “Butt in chair, book in hand.” She said and I laughed at her tone. I walked over to my couch and picked up the book,  the spine slightly cracked from laying face down most of the day. 

I must have finally gotten to the juicy part of the book because I felt Mor Peering over the edge of her own book. My poker face was completely gone as I sunk in every word. “No. Absolutely not!” I screamed, rereading the last few pages to make sure I was seeing it correctly. 

“Did you finally get to..” I held up my hand to shush her. She laughed and threw one of the throw pillows at my head. I only put my book down long enough to catch the pillow, using it to now prop up my arms. Once I had confirmed I had not actually gone crazy, Mor and I started discussing the plot twist that had been the source of my outburst. She accidentally let a detail slip that had me scrambling back for the book, desperate to catch up to the point she had been talking about. This went on for hours until I saw her perk up. She turned to face me.

.

“They’re back.” Was all Mor said, still flipping through the book perched on her knees. I didn’t say anything else before I put my own book to the side and all but ran from the room. Her laugh bouncing off the walls behind me. 

I could smell him before I saw him. That deep cedar and cold rain smell that I could wrap myself in. Rhys tried to say something to him but stopped when he realized he no longer held his audience's full attention. Azriel’s shadows ripping across the room and curling around my feet like a small cat. I could have purred at the feeling, tears started to peek along the corners of my eyes at the familiar feeling. 

When I felt movement next to me, I felt momentary disappointment at the fact that Azriel was not standing in front of me. Strong arms wrapped around my middle and started to swing me in a circle, I felt joy so strong it almost hurt. Cassian sat me back down on my feet and when he went to speak, I wrapped my arms around him in return. We stood embracing each other, slowly rocking from foot to foot. 

“Missed you, Princess.” He muttered into my head. I just nodded, my cheek too squished against his chest to say anything. “I think Mor was going to kill us if she had to be the only girl living in the house. Amren can only handle so much damage control and the coward spent most nights at her apartment.” He nudged my shoulder as he spoke, pulling a laugh from me. It felt good to laugh again. My cheeks hurt in the perfect way at the smile that stretched over my face. 

A throat being cleared from across the room pulled my attention from Cassian. I could have melted into a puddle right then and there. Azriel stood in front of me, a true smile gracing his face. I squealed and rushed over into his arms. He didn’t swing me around like Cassian did, but he held me just as tight. It would have felt so right to crash my lips against his and he released me from his arms, but that wasn’t my relationship with Azriel. Those thoughts were nothing more than what I needed to make it through the events of the last fifty years. Azriel looked at me like I was a sister, nothing more. Rhys’ little sister on top of that. His high lord's little sister. He was the one who had coined my nickname centuries ago. When the trio first formed their own little band of brothers. I had gotten pulled in by proximity, Azriel said it one day and it had stuck ever since. “Hi Princess.” He said, tone polite but I could hear the joy behind them. I tried not to blush as I heard his voice. Shaking the things I had imagined that voice saying to me out of my head out, I mustered up a pathetic, “Hi, Az.” 

It had never felt this awkward around him. Cursing myself mentally for thinking of all the things I would say to him when I finally saw him again. None of those words made their way out of me as the two of us stared at each other. “I’m glad you’re home.” Was all he said his words short but I felt the sincerity leaking from them. Biting down the flutter in my heart,  I gave a short nod and wrapped my arms around myself. His eyes tracked the movement but didn’t say anything. 

Cass clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, breaking the tension that I felt take over the room. “We’ll see you at training tomorrow,” I raised an eyebrow to him. “Don’t give me that look, I’m guessing you didn’t have time to… while you were gone. I can’t have my sister not able to defend herself. We would be the laughing stock of Pyrthian.” He smiled as I made a big show of rolling my eyes . 

So I joined them for training the next morning. And the next. Cassian slowly ran through the basics until I was nothing more than a mile of sore bones and sweat by the end of our sessions. I would shower and hang out with Mor. Rhys was suddenly very busy as he tried to catch up on all the events he missed in his court over the last fifty years. He made more and more trips to Hewn City, leaving Mor free to run around with me. Before I knew it a month had passed and all of us were sitting around the table for one of our family dinners. 

Jokes were flung around the table and no one noticed  the way Rhys and I sat back, sinking it all in. More than once I caught his eyes from across the table and all we could do was smile at each other. Is it bad to say that I missed this? I spoke into his head as Mor and Cassian had started raising their voices at each other, getting into a slight argument over some random events of the day. I did too. Even when we both flinched at the volume Cassian’s voice had risen too. Even Azriel had started to chime in before Mor shot him down with a withering look. I laughed despite myself at his expression. I shut up when that look was turned to me. 

The conversation fell into a natural lull and everyone was happily eating. Rhys hissed at something, shaking his arm that bore the bargain mark. Something must have prickled down the weird connection. 

“I still can’t believe you let her go with Tamlin.” Cassian said, stabbing something on his plate with a little more force than necessary. Rhys bared his teeth at his brother. 

“I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?” He slumped back into his chair, still rubbing his hand. “She already hated me because of this stupid bargain but if I had stolen away from the male she was willing to die for…”

“But Rhys. It’s Tamlin. No one would have slighted you, not after…” Cassian’s gaze flickered to me. As hard as I was trying to tune out the conversation, I still felt my chest tighten at their words. Rhys would have never taken Feyre without her permission, well at least outside of the bargain but we both knew that was simply a means to an end. Regardless of how much it must hurt to have another person he cared about over in spring, Rhys wouldn’t take that choice away from her, no matter how concerned he might be for  her safety. 

“How  was it seeing the brute again?” Amren asked and the table silenced. I froze and kept my gaze locked down at my plate. Suddenly losing my appetite completely.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I itched at my wrist, tugging at the fabric that felt too tight around my wrist. Azriel placed a comforting hand over mine. I flashed him a thankful smile.

“You haven’t wanted to talk about it for over a century.” She prodded. 

“And she shouldn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” She took a breath like she was about to press the issue. “Why does it matter to you anyways?” Azriel hissed at her. Amren had the decency to take a hint and held up her hands in surrender, a smirk plastered on her face. 

We all sat in silence for the rest of dinner. Even Cassian knew better than to make any comments due to the tension in the air. Everytime he would go to say something, Rhys would shoot daggers at him. Eventually I got sick of it and threw my napkin down. 

“Fine. You want to know what it felt like?” I shouted at Amren. Everyone flinched. “I am terrified for that girl. Because I know what loving Tamlin does to someone. Seeing him felt just like you whenever someone mentions the prison.” She paled at my words and I didn’t spare her another look as I pushed away from the table, storming out. I know I would regret my words later but sometimes Amren needed a taste of her own medicine. She just loved to push everyone buttons because we were all too scared to really piss her off. 

I flung myself into my bed, still fully dressed. I groaned into my pillow. Apologies could wait until tomorrow. A knock from the door had me fighting back swears. Stomping over to the door, I ripped it open and a very startled Rhys was standing in the hallway, hand raised like he was about to knock again. 

“I wanted to check on you.” The high lord said.

“I’m fine” I gritted out and he raised an eyebrow at me. I let out a heavy sigh. 

“I know I shouldn’t have taken the bait but I don’t want to talk about him, right now or ever, if I can avoid it.” Rhys’ eyes held sympathy and he just contuined standing in the hallway, letting me rant. “I mean it’s been so long. I didn’t want to talk about it then. No one’s asking how you feel about Tamlin.” I paused and Rhys just shrugged. 

“If she’s happy with him, then it’s not my place to try to save her. If she wants to come here, then I’ll happily let her do that too.” 

I stared at him like he had gone crazy. “What about the bargain?” He shrugged again

“It was necessary at the time. I don’t actually plan on cashing in on it. She’d only hate me. More.” I could feel his despair. The self loathing held behind those words. 

“Rhys.” He shook his head.

“I’ll never take away her choice in this. Just because she’s my mate doesn’t mean I have a claim to her. Regardless of every nerve in my body screaming otherwise. It’s her life. She’s given more than enough to deserve whatever, whoever, makes her happy.” I went to hug him and he stepped out of my reach. “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t need your sympathy for making the right decision.” He tried to play it off as a joke but I knew he truly meant it. 

“Well if you ever want to talk about it…”

“Like how you want to talk about Tamlin.” He cut me off. My mouth set into a thin line and I took that as a dismissal of the conversation. Fine. I just wanted to crawl into bed anyway. 

“Well now that we’ve established that. Anything else you want to say, oh mighty High Lord.” 

“No.” 

“Good. Good night.” I said and swiftly shut the door in his face. I love my brother but he really knows how to get under my skin sometimes. I know deep down I’m mad because he called me out. I can’t expect him to pour his heart out to me when I won’t do the same thing. 

I threw the covered back and crawled in, still fully dressed. Mind reeling. I wouldn’t even know where to start with talking to anyone about Tamlin. And what good would it do? All of that was in the past and talking about it would only piss everyone off all over again. We had just barely avoided attacking the spring court when I came home. I don’t want to drag Feyre into this now that she’s there. 

I managed to finally fall asleep, tossing and turning. Dreams filled with deep swirling greens and the sound of growls. 

When I woke up in the morning I could tell it was later than normal. The sun is slightly higher in the air. Snapping out of my sleepy haze I cursed as I jumped out of bed. I was late for training and Cassian wasn’t going to let me forget that. 

Throwing on my clothes, mentally screaming at all the buckles on my training leathers. I knew not eating was going to come back to bite me in the ass but I simply didn’t have time as I sprinted through the house. In my haste, I passed a grinning Rhys. The events from last night seemingly forgiven as he taunted me. 

“Maybe he’ll consider this your warm up today.” I held up a crude gesture and he only laughed harder.  

I made it to the training rink in record time. My hands were on my knees as I panted. The stitch in my side was already screaming at me but I forced myself to stand up straight as Cassian sauntered over to me. The split in his lip told me Him and Azriel had gotten started without me. 

“You’re late, princess.” I flinched at his tone. He surveyed me. “I think double drills should be enough to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I cursed, I couldn’t get through the routine once without limping back to the house. Two would kill me and he knew it. 

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?” He held out his hand “Consider this it.” He stepped away from me, going back over to Azriel. I know Cassian wasn’t actually mad at me. He also knew that if he went easy on me, I wouldn’t take training seriously. I appreciated the routine of it all and I really did need it. So sighing I got started. 

I was halfway through my second set when Cas called me over. 

“Lesson learned?” He simply asked. I nodded. Still trying to take in breath. My muscles are screaming at me for still being vertical. 

“Good because Cas and I decided it’s finally time to step this up a notch. You’re almost the same as you were before. Now it’s time to get your powers involved. Relearn how to fight with those.” Azriel spoke. My stomach sank. This was something I hadn't considered. It was a stupid oversight on my part and I didn’t know how to get myself out of this so I responded with the truth. 

“I don’t have my powers.” 

“Okay, nice joke” Cassian cut in.

“I’m not joking. I can’t use them anymore.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

“I can’t use my powers” I grumble. “They’re still in there but it’s like I’m fighting against a wall.” Azriel raised an eyebrow at that revelation. 

“How do you know?” 

“I don’t know but all I know is I tried to use them… you know… And they wouldn’t come. Everyone had theirs back so I know it wasn’t the curse. So for whatever reason I couldn’t make them work.” It was embarrassing to admit. My powers had been the only truly useful thing I could rely on in the training ring. 

“Have you tried since then?” I nodded. Not so much of a glimmer of them since I came home. I told Cassian that much and he swore under his breath. 

“We could always take you to see Helion.” I shook my head at his words. 

“I don’t want to burden him with more problems. He has enough to do in his own court. I’ll figure it out, but for now I’ll just have to fight the old fashioned way.” 

Neither of the males in front of me seemed to be happy with my response but Cassian jumped right back in.

“Fine. But that means that you have a lot more training to do. If you had your powers you would be fine. But in just plain hand to hand combat, you’d get your ass kicked by anyone with any skill.” 

I glared at him but I knew he was telling the truth. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him into the center of the ring and tossed him one of the training swords. Heavy but they wouldn’t do nearly as much damage when he hit me. 

“Do your worst then.” Was all I said before he charged at me. 

“You’re sloppy.” Cassian barked as he knocked the sword out of hand again, again. I held my wrist as it twisted at a weird angel. My cheeks heated with anger and I went to wipe the sweat that had formed on my brow with my other, only to find it just as damp. I recoiled in disgust and Cassian laughed again. 

“You try getting your shit kicked in for fifty years and see how you bounce back.” I spoke and I saw his face pale. Shit. “Joking Cas, it’s okay.” 

I shook my head. “I am sloppy. And that’s why I’m still training with your annoying ass. You’ll have me back in tip top shape.” He relaxed slightly, but his shoulders still wouldn’t lower. 

I sighed and did the only thing I could think of as he turned away from me. I jumped onto his back, being mindful of his wings and pulled him down to the ground. The air left his lungs in a whoosh as I took us both onto our sides, I quickly bounded to my feet, ignoring the sting in my side from the impact. 

“Come on you big Illyrian baby.” I raised my arms slightly in front of me and a flicker of something crossed Cassian's face and I saw him make the decision to play along. To pretend that this was just a normal day of training. He leapt to his feet with a surprising amount of grace. 

“If you want a fight, you got it princess” He said with a smirk. We both stood in the middle of the training ring, circling each other, waiting  for the other to make the first move. Swords forgotten off to the side. I saw the slight twitch of his left side and I made the choice to ignore the fake out, and went to block my right side. It was the right choice, the blow aimed toward my right side bounded off my forearm, it still stung but at least it didn’t put me on my ass like it would have had it made contact. I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm back, pulling him closer towards me and pushing on his back. He only stumbled for a second before he regained his footing. That kick had put me off balance more than I anticipated and it was easy for Cassian to grab the leg that lowered too slowly, grabbing my ankle and yanking me to my stomach. I yelped at the contact. He laughed loudly as I held my hand up in surrender. I rolled over onto my back with a groan. 

“Give me a few days back in training and I’ll have you on your ass, General.” He laughed even harder.

“In case you forgot, princess, you could barely do that even on your best days. Give yourself more time.” 

“A week.” I responded with my own laugh. Whatever I had done, it worked. Cassian’s shoulders had fully relaxed and I noticed the smile gracing his face finally reached his eyes. I noticed Azriel starting a few feet away. I sat back on my elbows, propping myself up. “Want a round, Az?” I teased and was rewarded by him rolling those big hazel eyes. 

“I think you’ve hurt yourself enough for today.” Was all he said before he turned to stalk away  from the ring. I laid back down in the dirt of the ring at his retreating figure, sighing heavily. Cas comes to stand over me, offering me a hand up. I grab it, pulling myself up. 

“Give him some more time to come around. This was harder for him than the rest of us.” He was suddenly serious. “He’ll get there, but you know him. Broody as they come.” He nudged me with his wing and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the gesture. I nodded in understanding and the pair of us walked back up to the house. 

This was harder for him than the rest of us. The words bounced around my head for the rest of the day. It makes sense. Azriel would have seen this as him failing. Not only failing me but his High Lord. Regardless of how hard everyone must have tried to comfort him, he would always blame himself, and only himself, for Rhys and I going under the mountain.  

It also explained why Azriel seemed to be avoiding me. Besides that first awkward meeting, he always managed to find an excuse to not be in the same room as me if he could avoid it. I’ve been home for almost a month now and I had hardly seen him. The few times I ran into him in the hall, he would quickly and politely brush me. Not saying anymore than a few words in greeting or response to a question I might have asked him. Be patient. I could do that. But it was hard to ignore the sting in my chest every time he brushed me off. We were practically joined at the hip before I left. I fit seamlessly into the fold of the trio but now Azriel felt like a stranger again. 

My mind was too full of thoughts to begin to try to settle down, so after I bathed the dirt and sweat off, I changed into a loose nightgown that almost went to the ground and padded off for the library. When I got to the door, it was slightly cracked, light from the fireplace filling even the hallway with its warmth. It was like the room itself was calling to me and as I stepped in. Above the crackle of the fire, I made out the sound of pages turning, of fabric rustling as someone shifted on one of the couches in the room. I searched for the source of the sound and found none other than Azriel lounging with a book propped open on his lap. He didn’t seem to notice me until one of his shadows snuck off his lap and slithered over to my feet, wrapping around them like they always did. 

He closed his book and glanced over to where I stood in the doorway. Something flashed across his eyes that I couldn’t decipher before it faded away. He cleared his throat and said a generic greeting. My heart sank as I saw him mark the page he was on in his book, and place it on the end table to his right. I tried not to pout as I said. “Don’t leave on my account.” I said, keeping my tone light to hide the oily feeling pooling in my stomach. The shadow at my feet seemed to curl in tighter to me as Azriel went to stand. 

“I was just finishing up anyways.” He couldn’t seem to meet my eyes. “The rooms all yours.” 

“Azriel…” I don’t know what I was going to stay. Maybe beg him to stay with me, maybe start shouting at him but I know none of that would help, would only make both of us feel worse. Be patient with him. So I bit back all the words I wanted to say to him and simply said. “Good night.” He called to me as he headed out of the room, his shoulder just barely brushing mine as he passed by me. The room suddenly felt too cold so I willed the house to put the fire out and walked out, heading back to my own room suddenly feeling very tired. 

I crawled under my covers and tried to push the thought of Azriel’s eyes out of my mind as I drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

 I sensed it. I was back under the mountain. Nonono. This can’t be happening but I saw it all out in front of me. Rhys was in front of me, standing on the dais with Amarantha standing next to him. I almost broke down, knees buckling, when I saw that all-too-familiar mask of indifference grace my brother's face. I tried to call out but my voice wouldn’t come out, feet locked in place as I stood and helplessly watched as the red haired female reached a finger under Rhys chin. Bile raised in my throat as I saw her whisper something to him, something I couldn’t make out. When I tried to reach out for his mind, I was met with nothing more than those iron thick walls he built up. Amarantha’s eyes locked on mine and it was like she set me on fire. My skin burned, the string of her breaking my bones, of the attors smacking me down everytime I said something out of place. Finally I seemed to find my voice, but only a scream ripped from my throat at the phantom pain. Her red lips curled into a cold smile. “Welcome back pet.” another scream made its way from my throat. 

I flung myself into a sitting position, jolting awake from the nightmare. My lungs ached as I gulped down air. My skin still burned and I threw off my blanket, pulling my knees to my chest. I almost screamed again as I realized the presence of something, someone, in my room. 

Azriel’s soft voice said my name. “I heard you scream, I thought…” My eyes finally adjusted and I could make out his frame. “I’m sorry. I'll go.” 

“No.” I rasped, throat raw. I must have actually been screaming. That explains his presence in my room, kind of. My hand went up to my neck attempting to rub away the pain in my chest. The pain didn't stop the request that bubbled over my lips. “Please. Stay.” I saw him go still, turning back around to me. Even in the dark, I was able to find his eyes, wide open as they locked on mine. Tears welled up in my eyes and I tried not to sniffle. 

He whispered my name again. “Just go back to sleep.” He was starting to turn around again. My body reacted faster than my mind, I reached over the large bed, reached for his arm. “Please.” It was all I could get out. Please stay. Please talk to me. Please can we pretend that all of this didn’t happen and please be my best friend again. So many things tied into that one word. It’s almost like he sensed it and he sighed, relaxing into my touch. 

“Only until you fall back asleep.” He sounded exhausted and his tone made me feel heavy all over again. He still shuffled in behind me. I tried not to think about the fact that when I went to tuck myself into his chest that I was met with bare skin. Resisted the urge to trail my hand down along those perfect abs, to the deep vee that I knew laid beneath them. I just buried myself deeper into his side and I felt his wings wrap around me, shielding me from the world around us as I drifted back to sleep. The smell of cedar lulling me into a dreamless sleep. 

I woke up feeling more rested than I had since I’ve been back home. I knew he wouldn’t still be here but my hand still reached out to the side of the bed he’d been in, still warm. He had stayed. That explains why I slept so well. His scent lingered in the room and not caring how desperate it might have seemed, I buried my face into the pillow he had been laying on. I let his scent surround me and calm me down. A knock on the door had me groaning but sitting up anyways. 

‘You didn’t come to breakfast so I wanted to check on you…” More said as she opened the door, she looked around as she spoke and her face fell slightly before continuing. “I had Nuala make you a tray in case you were hungry when you woke up.” She held a small wooden tray in her hand and I beamed at her, touched by the small gesture from my cousin. 

“Thank you.” Was all I could get out, tears threatening to fall at the kindness in her action. 

“I heard you last night.” She spoke quietly as she walked to the edge of my bed, sitting down at my feet. “I know I wasn’t there, but if you ever need to talk, or just someone to listen to. I’ll always be here.”

“You don’t need that stuff in your head too. It’s bad enough it's mine.” 

She said my name in a concerned tone and I waved her off. “Don’t we have some books you need me to finish?” I said, deflect. She sighed sensing she wouldn’t win this one.

“Maybe we should take a break from the library today.” My face dropped as I thought of what I could possibly do with my day if it wasn’t reading with Mor. “I need to go shopping for some stuff, start looking around for Solstice presents and I haven't had a proper shopping buddy…” She trailed off, giving me a full megawatt smile. 

“Alright let's go, before you start batting your eyelashes at me.” I playfully rutted her in the ribs and she threw her arm over my shoulder.

I haven't gone out to the shops in Velaris since I’d been back home. A part of me had forgotten how beautiful my home truly was. I tried not to stare in awe at the new vendors, the smell of food lingering in the air. People walked to and fro, running errands for the day. Mor and I had found one of my favorite dress shops and all but pulled me into the shop. 

The designer was known for her slightly scandalous fashion. Floor length gowns with cut outs that left little to the imagination but were still heartbreakingly gorgeous. By the time Mor and I left, our arms were full of bags and I still had a few more dresses to pick up that needed to be altered. 

We flitted in and out of more stores until the sun was starting to sink behind the horizon. When I noticed where we were I almost suggested we stopped by Rita’s but my shoulders were starting to hurt from the weight of the bags and Mor wouldn’t be able to winnow us into the house if we did have a few drinks nor did I even want to think of carrying them back. 

So when we finally checked out from the last store, Mor having purchased a honestly hideous printed shirt for Cassian, we joined arms and started the walk back to the townhouse. 

After dropping off all of my new things in my room, I knew I had to go apologize to Rhys. Armen could wait, if I ever bothered to say sorry to her. She wouldn’t hold it against me either way. Our relationship was more antagonist than anything else anyways. So I put the clothes into my closet and padded off to find Rhys.

Eventually I found him in his study. He didn’t look up as I closed the door behind me. I called his name. Still nothing. So I walked over to his desk. I noticed he was clutching a letter in his hand, holding it so tightly that it was starting to crinkle. I went beside him and soothed the letter out of his hand. My face paled as I read carefully over the words.

Feyre was marrying Tamlin. 

The letter wasn’t an invitation. Just a simple announcement that would be extended to all high lords when one of them married. I dropped the piece of paper like it had burned me. I grasped for the right words to say to my brother, but when he looked up at me they all faded away. Agony I had never quite seen in them before knocked the breath from my lungs. 

“I know I have no reason to be upset. I should just be happy that she’s  happy. But I can’t find it in me.” He stared at the tattoo on his hand. “I’ll never see her again. Not after she marries him. I might get glimpses at balls but I’ll never really be able to see her.” Never be able to see her because we both know how Tamlin treats the people he loves. The gilded cage Feyre will be locked in the moment she says “I do”. I gave myself a moment to mourn for the girl. But I know there was nothing either of us could do in this situation. So I did the only thing I could think of. I strolled over to the bar cart in the corner of the room and poured both of us a few fingers of whiskey. He eyed it carefully as I passed him the glass. He took it out of my hands and knocked it back in one fluid motion. I did the same with mine. Holding out the glass for more, I poured him another. We just sat drinking until the familiar flush started to creep onto my face. Rhys hasn't said much, neither of us have. Content with drinking away the pit in both of our stomachs. 

“I love her.” He said after he finished his third glass. He didn’t sound. In fact this was  the most sober I think I had ever heard him

“I think I’ve loved her since I first saw her in the spring court. But I know I loved her when she offered herself in place of Tamlin. This brave human offering to save our entire world, who before that moment would have let her tear her to shreds.” He grimaced, as if the very thought disgusted him. 

“So tell her.” I said with a shrug. He glared at me. 

“You know it’s not that easy.” I did know. But I wanted him to be happy. I didn’t want him to have to sit here and drown out his sorrow while Tamlin got to play hero. Tamlin, who sat around while my brother risked his neck time and time again to save Feyre. He slumped down into his chair and laughed at the ceiling. 

“The mother can be a real bitch sometimes. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this good fortune.” His voice was bitter and truly didn’t know how to respond. I went to pour him another glass but he put a hand over his glass. 

“As much as I appreciate what you’re doing. I think I need to go to sleep before I march into the Spring Court and drag her out. Regardless of if she’ll hate me or not.”  His eyes soften as he looks at me. “You should head to bed soon too. I don’t need to look into your mind to know you’re going a million miles a minute right now.” 

He wasn’t wrong. My thoughts had been roaring around in my head since I read that letter. It wasn’t hard to put myself back into Feyre’s shoes. My heart panged for this selfless girl. How long until the cracks in the foundation started show and she would be pulled into the storm that is Tamlin. I nodded in acknowledgement of his words. Putting the cork back onto the glass bottle. I rose from my chair, rolling my stiff shoulders. Rhys and I both returned to our respective rooms. 

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned but couldn’t get comfortable. I had run out of the sleeping tonic a few nights before so I just accepted that sleep wasn’t going to come. I made no move to get out of bed though. I just curled my covers tighter over me. When the sun peeked through my curtain. I didn’t get up. I didn’t go to training. I didn’t even get up from my bed until mid afternoon, just going far enough to use the bathroom. Immediately crawling back into the warmth of my bed. 

Someone had knocked on the door and I pretended to be asleep when I heard the door click open. I ignored the smell of cedar until I felt a shadow sweep across my bed, settling by my face. If it knew I was asleep, it didn’t respond to its master. But it also didn’t leave when my door softly shut. I just turned to face away from the ripple of blackness. Not wanting to deal with the comfort the small action granted me. 

When I finally left my bedroom the next day, I learned Rhys had behaved similarly yesterday. The two of us floating around the house. We were bad enough that the others cleared out of whatever room we were in. I couldn’t find it in myself to really care enough to knock it off. 

This continued for the remainder of the week leading up to the date of the wedding. I expected the same behavior as I woke up the morning of the big day. But when I walked into the kitchen, Rhys was sitting around the table with Cassian and Azriel, head thrown back in laughter. He turned his head to me as I walked in and smiled at me.

“Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I grunted at him. Walking to the fridge I pulled out a bowl of fruit and swiped a couple pieces of sliced strawberry. He hummed in response and Cassian spoke up.

“We’re going to the cabin later, if you want to come with us. We’ll need someone to help us finish all this booze.” He gestured to three large boxes that were occupying the floor of the kitchen. I raised an eyebrow to Rhys and he shook his head. Drop it. He spoke in my head. I shoved him out and when I looked back at him, he looked hurt. 

“Boys, can I speak to my brother alone?” The two looked confused but stood up from the table regardless. 

“You don’t approve?” Rhy asked plainly. I scoffed.

“They might not know what today is, but I do,” I snatched the unopened bottle from his hand. “If you want to drink yourself stupid, I won’t stop you but that doesn’t prevent all of this from happening.” He made a lunge for the bottle and I was somehow able to keep it out of his grasp. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. 

“What do you want me to say? That I would rather her marry anyone else than him? That I wish I was the one that she was happy to see. That I wished she would change her mind…” He trailed off. Eyes seemingly far away.  Horror washed over his face. 

“Rhys?” I spoke softly, wondering if I pushed him too hard. 

“I have to go.” Was all he said and before I could catch him, he had winnowed away. 

I had been on edge since Rhys disappeared with no sign of where he was going to. It hasn't been more than an hour but I was about to wear a hole through the rugs in the hallway with my pacing. Suddenly, I heard Rhys in my head. Grab Mor and meet me at the big house. I didn’t respond. Just went to find Mor, she must have received a similar message because when I got to her room she was already waiting for me. She didn;t ask any questions, merely grabbing my arm and winnowing us to the house we rarely ever used. When we arrived to the house I nearly gasped as I saw why Rhys had disappeared so suddenly. I just had time to make out a satin slipper as it was chucked with deadly precision right at Rhys’ head. She had barely launched the other one at him before she stormed off up the stairs. Rhys was all but growling as he stalked over to us. “That went well.” Mor snorted at him and this time Rhys actually growled at her before stalking over to his own room. 

We didn't see or hear from Feyre for the rest of the night, the three of us eating in silence. I felt the tension rolling off of Rhys when Nuala and Cerridwen informed us that Feyre hadn't eaten the dinner they had left for her. My stomach sank and I avoided the stare from my brother. He had asked me to go check on her. Saying that I could offer her some company. I didn’t have it in me to talk to her yet. Didn’t want to make this day, this decision, about me. And I know going into that room I would see a younger version of myself I wasn’t ready to face. 

The next day, Rhys had insisted on her joining us for breakfast. She came stomping down the stairs. “I’m not a dog.” She sneered at him before taking a tentative seat at the table. 

She looked around and her eyes locked onto mine, recognition sparkling in them,

“I remember you. You were under the mountain. What are you doing here?” Her tone was surprisingly pleasant, a stark contrast from every word she had said to my brother. 

I introduced myself. “I’m his sister.” She laughed at that. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was hard to bite back my comment while I looked at her. It was like looking into an old memory, the dark circle around her eyes, the way the light had completely vanished behind them. She didn’t even look like this under the mountain. Tamlin had broken her completely. I’m sorry for you. I didn’t say that though, instead just responding with a simple. 

“You get used to it.” 

“I doubt that.” She snorted and started picking at the food in front of her.

#acomaf #acosf #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar series #acowar #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #rhys!sister #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand #cassian #cassian acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin

[kingsandbastardz]

MLC's prop department has been having fun

Tinfoil hat time. I've been tracking the movement of Li Lianhua's pillows at the Lotus Tower (yes I know, crazy)

Anyway, here are my findings that I think will be interesting to know:

(Episode 1) We are given 1 shot of a pillow. It's rust colored with a white center - he uses it in his own bed.

(Episode 8) We now see 2 pillows. One white one on the bed (llh's) and a grey-bluish colored one on the side dresser. Being that Fang Duobing has been staying there, I have assigned this color to him.

(Episode 13) We still see the grey-blue pillow that I assume is FDB's. He was using the white one here because LLH's put him in his own bed after he was injected with gangchi

(Episode 19) This looks similar to the grey-blue pillow, but I've dubbed it blue-grey because it's more blue and it's darker. Which means this is not FDB's bedding, but who is it for?

(Episode 20, images A and B) Ah here we go. It's Di Feisheng's. In the second image, you can see that he is a messy blanket folder.

(Episode 27) Post A-Fei getting taken away, and post-fdb breakup, LLH passes out and wakes up several days later. Su Xiaoyong has found him and has apparently been nursing him. I assume she helped herself to his prettiest pillowcase while she made herself at home. At first I thoguht she gave him his own white pillowcase, but on closer inspection, it looks grey. So I can't tell if it's a lighting/color-filter situation or if Su Xiaoyong actually grabbed fdb's pillow when dragging LLH to bed.

(Episode 28) The upstairs room - This is while they're traveling to the city and Su Xiaoyong is still with him. As she's a young unmarried woman, I assume for propriety's sake, he moved himself temporarily to the upstairs bedroom while he's still feeling ok, so you see his white pillow, fdb's grey-blue, and dfs' blue-grey. Yes, they look like the same shade under different lighting - but they're actually under the same strength shadow. So one is a full shade darker than the other.

(thanks @difeisheng I completely missed this one)

(Episode 40) No spare bedding on the side counter. FDB was sleeping in the chair against the table. LLH has been alone.

Conclusion:

LLH color codes his pillows for people who stay over

So in the previous episode 19 DFS had told LLH that he would come find him later. Apparently, that was enough for LLH to get out some extra bedding. Just in case. And then DFS shows up with amnesia immediately in the next episode.

Clearing out his loose bits and bobs wasn't just about people or situations, but included packing away all the extra bedding

FDB and DFS (With and without amnesia) totally shared the upstairs bed without murdering each other at night. Somehow. despite the bed being tight enough they would probably end up cuddling at some point. And then never spoke about it during the day. LMAO.

#this honestly makes me think that dfs' yinzhu armor being swimtrunks/disco-panties are 100% on purpose - the props dept was having fun #mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #li lianhua #meta #fang duobing #my royal ramblings #analysis #su xiaoyong

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi girlie. thoughts on spencer’s bisexuality? specially post-prison spence. would he be more willing to experiment or just keep being the same guy who doesn’t care at all? just thinking. plus thoughts on austin? we didn’t got to see much about it. honestly i think both of them would have gone harder than with maeve, to be honest. i did not got much of the vibe from maeve and spencer and it felt like quiet new and weird coming from him? we’ve seen him interacting more before with these super confident girls like lila and cat. to me, it looks like these are more his type, pretty odd for a introvert guy like him.

babe thoughts on spencers bisexuality are all i have

but i also have thoughts on all his girlfriends actually

spoilers for maeve, cat, trigger warning season 14 episode 15 “truth or dare” mentioned😓😓 that fuck ass episode

i think post prison spencer is too traumatized and too exhausted to be thinking about romance or sex for a good long while. if he was already in a committed relationship before he went in, i think he’d stay because he’s incredibly devoted and i feel like he tends to latch on to one individual as his person and then never let them go, but if he wasn’t, i don’t think he’d be pursuing anyone, period, boys girls anyone in between or outside, i think bro is just TIRED lmfao

but specifically speaking about his relationship w his own bisexuality, i think if it wasn’t something he was super comfortable with before prison it sure as hell won’t be something he decides to confront after prison. i think he would just ignore it and continue on with life in his own little world ignoring other human beings. i think if he was chill with his sexuality before he went to prison that wouldn’t change afterward other than the fact that he’d probably find himself less attracted to men because they scare him a lot more now. i don’t think he would suddenly start having a ton of internalized homophobia (although he has so much self loathing it could definitely present that way) but again i don’t think he would be interested in seeking out new romantic or sexual partners for a while regardless of gender

and i liked austin a lot!!! potentially controversial opinion but i did NOT like maeve for him. she was clearly designed to be spencer but a girl so we would be like omggg she’s so perfect for him and then we would be extra sad when she died but imo their relationship fell flat, lacked passion or believability, and simply wasn’t interesting to me. the way he spoke about her reminded me of the way a 13 year old speaks about his girlfriend after a month of dating when he thinks they’re going to get married.

i have always FIRMLY believed that he had more chemistry with almost ANY of his love interests, even austin and the einstein chick who were around for ONE EPISODE EACH than he did with maeve. spencer seemed more interested and challenged by literally every single one of them. and i think he needs someone who challenges him. like spencer understands everything, give him someone who he can’t figure out and who drives him insane and is endlessly compelling and confusing elle greenaway!! we saw the way he wanted to genuinely consume lilah and cat. both more interesting than maeve. maeve was giving like… older sister almost?? like that woman had a FIANCÉ and according to canon she was his first “girlfriend” (strong word for what she was… those bitches were e-dating at best) it was just bizarre in the same way it was bizarre for a woman who had been married for ten years with two children to declare her love for him. i genuinely can see him with an older woman elle greenaway but the dynamic was just off with jj and maeve.

so that’s my rant on them. i could go on forever

#asks #ramblings

[moghedien]

I’m like sooo curious about the Aylin and Isobel after all this because we know they’re going help Selunite enclaves or whatever and I don’t think they’re ever gonna turn away from Selune really but I do wonder if there’s like a twinge of something about their relationship with the goddess now

because again I don’t think they’re gonna turn from her, but they both have their issues and trauma now. Aylin’s is a bit more obvious but I can’t stop thinking about how the game basically tells you that Isobel came back wrong and then never acknowledges that again.

Obviously she didn’t come back as wrong as some of her kin, but the first time we see her she seems ill with something. You can kinda dismiss that as being related to the Shadow curse without full context. Even if you read her diary, you can kinda dismiss it until you understand she’s Ketheric’s dead daughter.

Her diary:

Like she clearly isnt being spurned by Selune completely as she still has cleric magic and can still protect Last Light, but the phrase “there are some things she would never accept in her devoted” is so ominous. Isobel clearly knows that Selune is having some problem with her and the fact that the problem isn’t as clear as being denied her magic makes it even more ominous. If not that, then what is happening that makes this clear to her?

Then there’s Aylin, who is literally the daughter of Selune, who was sent by her mother to the Thorms. And obviously there isn’t any regret there because of Isobel, but then the Isobel dies under vague circumstances that may or may not be Shar related based on cut content. Then the people that Selune sent Aylin to protect cage her and torture her and use her as a lab rat and organ donor and ritual sacrifice over and over again for the next 100 years.

Aylin was supposed to be an envoy of her mother and ended up being the instrument in which Shar made weapon after weapon. She’s unwillingly spreading the darkness she’s against and all because Selune sent her to these people. Literally 100 years where all she can do is die again and again until she can convince one Sharran to listen to her and not just kill her again.

And like, you can also take into account the possibility that Aylin is an oathbreaker now. I don’t personally buy the theory but I know a lot of people do suspect that her reaction to killing Lorrokan was due to it breaking her oath. I think it’s more likely a trauma response but we can look at this either way.

Because killing Lorrokan should have been the righteous move. He was trying to use and defile her, one of Selune’s children, for his own petty reasons. He was going to commit the same sins as Ketheric. And it wasn’t like Aylin was the only potential victim of him. We know he hurt Rolan, and no doubt many others. What would a man like that do with immortality?

But then killing him just makes her feel empty? She protected herself. Protected Selune’s sword and anyone else that might have been suffering under him. And it doesn’t fill her with the same righteous ecstasy that it should. Suddenly being the righteous paladin doesn’t feel good, it just feels empty.

And if you believe that it did break her oath, then what? She’s being punished by Selune for defending herself and others? She stopped Selune’s envoy from being used in the same profane ritual she just escaped from and gets rejected and punished for that? She’s the one accused of violating Selune?

Again, I don’t personally think the reaction was caused by breaking her oath, but I think it’s a compelling angle to look at, at least.

And all of this to say that again, I don’t think either of them are going to turn against Selune and I don’t think they have a very strong reason to. But I do wonder how their relationship with her has changed in the last 100 years while Aylin was being forced to die for Shar over and over again and Isobel was forced to live by Mrykul, completely unprotected by the moonmaiden they had both been absolutely devoted to.

I just wonder what was going through their heads when they talked to Shadowheart about her past and the fact that she has a choice now, that Selune would take her back after a life time of Sharran indoctrination and crimes committed in her name. Now she has a choice. I wonder if in that moment, there wasn’t even the smallest bit of bitterness toward Selune on their part.

#dame aylin #isobel thorm #shadowheart #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[riordanness]

when i was drowning - [p.jackson]

wordcount: 0.7K

warnings: almost drowning

requested: yes!! @thegirlwhosimpstoomuch6190

I should have known going swimming on my own would become a disaster. But technically, it was also the best day of my life.

Being a daughter of Hades is hard. Being the sister of Nico di Angelo is hard. Being a demigod is hard. But being in love with Perseus Jackson? That is the opposite of hard.

His sea green eyes that sparkle when he laughs. How he runs his hands through his scruffy black hair, making it even messier. How he fights with his shiny sword like nobody's watching. How he cares for the new campers, jokes with his friends, and always eats blue food if he can manage it.

I think it’s impossible not to fall for Percy Jackson. It’s the easiest? most natural feeling in the world.

Anyways, I’m a bit of a loner. Most campers don’t tend to want to hang out with the creepy death twins, so both Nico and I decide to be alone most of the time. Over the years here at camp, Nico has been in and out a lot, shadow travelling all over the world and even into hell once.

I’ve stayed here at camp all this time. I spend my time alone. I’ve tried to redecorate the Hades cabin (Nico made some terrible decisions as a young child and I am desperate to fix it). I do classes alone or sometimes with the Apollo kids (Will Solace is dating my brother, and he is like a brother to me).

Sorry, I’m getting off topic. Solangelo does that to people.

So on that shiny summer morning, Im walking down the dirt path to the lake. I’m glad I’m alone. I’d never dare to swim with someone else. No that anyone would want to do that with a Hades kid. We’re “creepy and dark and mysterious” or whatever. Which isn’t true. Yeah, I’m a introvert, but so are a lot of other people.

I have the weirdest feeling someone is watching me. I whirl around, but see nothing. Huh. I decide to ignore the strange feeling and just relax a little.

I wander down to the canoe lake, strip down to my sports bra and bike shorts, and dive off the end of the pier.

Unfortunately, I misjudged my dive. I landed wrong, felt my leg bend weirdly, and plummeted into the water. My head hits something hard, and everything goes black.

The next time I open my eyes, they see the somewhat blurry ceiling of the infirmary. Yellow light fills the room, warm and sunshiny and very Apollo cabin themed. I’m not sure I like this aesthetic so much.

“Y/n!”

It’s Nico. He rushes over and sits down on a stool beside me. “Damn, are you okay?”

I groan, my head suddenly spiked with pain. “Um. I think so? What the hell happened?”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, you almost freakin drowned. What were you thinking? Going to swim alone?”

“I’m sorry,” I say, wincing. “So… what happened?”

Nico gives me a look. “You hit your head, we think. You would’ve drowned, you know. Except for Percy…”

I’m immediately paying attention. “Percy?” I ask curiously.

Nico looks slightly amused, and also annoyed. “Yeah, Percy Jackson. You were gonna drown, but he saved you. Lucky he happened to be walking past, which is weird, cause he was supposed to be at archery practice then.”

I flush slightly. “He… he saved me?”

Nico nods. “Gods, you’re hopeless. Stop getting all flustered over him.”

“Hey!” I complain. “Says you, whenever Will walks in the door.”

“Shut up.”

I smirk, and even though my head hurts something awful, Percy Freaking Jackson saved me in a canoe lake today. And that’s enough to make this my best day ever.

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #to read #fanfic #walker scobell #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfic #daughter of hades #nico di angelo

[texasbama]

oh I AM WALKING

Like……i just. Hm. Okay. So like

Season 8: Buck is exploring and having fun with his newly discovered sexuality. With tommy or whoever. Doesnt matter. We see Eddie dealing with the layers and complexity of his catholic guilt. Him starting to truly discover what it actually is HE wants for himself versus what he think’s supposed to want.

Buck throughout the season, while dating, is having fun and he’s happy but he starts to feel like there is just still something missing but he doesn’t know what it is. We see the boys stories parallel in that way for most of the season. S8 finale. Big emergency cliffhanger. Trapped dads vibes okay. Perhaps feelings come out. Buck realizes “oh shit. Im in love with Eddie” and tries to tell Eddie but then something bad happens. Bam! End of season.

Season 9: buck is reeling from this realization but like. They almost died so all emotions are on 10. They are in the hospital talking about everything but the elephant in the room. They talk about the will and what it means. Its heavy. Eddie telling Buck again that there is no one else for his son. No one else for HIM. “Its only ever been you Buck” and they are just sitting in this moment with so many words left unsaid. Both of them scared of the magnitude of their feelings.

The season continues as both of the boys try and navigate through what it means to be in love with your best friend. Eddie possibly working through having feelings for a man. Buck scared of losing what they have but also knowing that Eddie is it for him. Maybe mid season, they finally sit down and talk. Buck tells Eddie in so many words: I want you. I want this life we have made together with Chris. I love you. Eddie feels the same way. they both agree: we need to be sure, because once we go there, there is no going back. This could be a great thing for both of them but they have to be ready for it.

Now as 9B goes on, we see flirty Buddie. We see them basically together but not together ya know? They are happy taking their time cause they know the wait will be worth it. Now of course cause this is a primetime drama, some very traumatic/ dramatic will happen in the season finale. Now while nothing happens to the boys physically, whatever big ugly thing that happened, they just want to be with each other afterwards. They are each other’s home. We get a scene in the finale of them at Eddie’s house, on the couch. Eddie basically says that he doesn’t know if he will ever be 100% ready (more to do with his feelings about his own shortcomings) but that he is 100% sure about them. About Buck. He says I love you. Buck says it back. Then Buck proceeds to give his own love declaration. All these beautiful words about how Eddie has been what he has been looking for all this time. That this life is short (they understand that better than most) and he wants to spend whatever time he has left with Eddie and Chris. Cue first kiss. Cue thousands of fan girls dying. End season.

Season 10: now that they are together i feel like the lead up to an engagement could be fun. They are all happy and in love and they are sappy and Chris is making fun of them. Maybe on a call, or somewhere else Buck introduces Eddie as his fiancé and Eddie is like ????? And we get some fun spiraling. Eddie talks to Hen or something. “I would know if I was proposed to right? I mean we’ve only been together a few months???” And Hen is just like “yall have been Buck and Eddie for much longer than that” so that leads to Eddie asking Buck about it. Buck is like yea I said I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you remember??? And Eddie is like that isn’t a proposal! A proposal usually includes a question like WILL YOU MARRY ME? Again. We’re having fun with this. So Buck is all like okay. Eddie, will you marry me? eddie thinks he’s joking but he’s not. The moment goes from light and fun to intimate and emotional. We get some more “you’re it for me. I love you” Buck is choosing Eddie. Eddie is being chosen. Eddie is choosing to be happy for himself. Eddie says yes. BAM! LET THE WEDDING PLANNING COMMENCE.

(Now obviously this is just idiots ramblings. These are bones and they story would need meat and muscles to become fully fleshed out but. I just. Ya know. Had feelings)

#911 asks

[lucabyte]

i am looking at nohats au 👀 please share more

So! NoHats! I'm going to grab you and use this to ramble. A Lot.

The NoHats AU is @samhainian's it's just that I'm the strange little freak who takes the words said unto me and executes on them. But I can still do a little explainer on what our overall thoughts and vibes are. (And, that we are in fact propping up a little box with some cheese under it here. 🪤 Please (PLEASE) feel free to pick up what we're putting down.)

We're far from the only ones exploring a "what if siffrin fucking died" AU, though the main difference with NoHats is the placement of the death in the timeline. Instead of being 'Mal Du Pays Wins' or 'Act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong', the death is… Just after the (literal) falling action.

(This placement is because Sam is a comic book fan who thus has become used to characters being ripped away at the cruelest times by shitty writers. THANK FUCKING GOD adrienne is not that and isat is delightful yippieee, but, back on topic.)

Giving the party the full understanding of What Happened that you get by putting the death after black hole siffrin, but before the A6 encounter leaves an interesting gap to be filled. See, making Siffrin's death very much not Loop's fault means that… this once again reads (when not read as simply a tragedy...) as the universe doing what it sees fit to fulfull Loop's wish… Thus making Siffrin's death Loop's fault again, but only in their eyes. And only in a way they could express if they were honest about who they were…

And this is where having had excuse to waffle about my general Postcanon Loop thoughts the other day comes in handy, because Sam and I have that as our canon-compliant reading to begin with, NoHats plays off of a lot of the same readings of Loop's character. Namely: Uh Oh Somebody's Lying By Fucking Omission Again. (BECAUSE TO BE FAIR THIS TIME… HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU HANDLE THAT?)

Now, neither Sam nor I are fanfic writers, so this has been a little bit trapped in our heads and DMs (and my unfinished art but,)

But our thoughts on how NoHats like… Goes.

Siffrin's death is peaceful, but that does not mean the aftermath of it is. I can't imagine the party takes it well, especially after understanding the circumstances of the Loops. (And, of note, in A5 where nobody had the discussion on what to do with each other's bodies should something happen…) But I'd imagine it traumabonds them somewhat (understatement of the century) and now knowing how the rest of the party feels, they resolve to travel together for the forseeable future.

The party track down Loop to deliver the terrible news, since they were clearly Siffrin's friend too, and invite Loop along to travel at least long enough to (let them grieve) get the burial over with. Loop, here, can be helpful in knowing what Siffrin would've wanted where the party would be at a loss. Loop, I think, takes a bit of a lead on the funerary aspects of it all, because, um. (Performing rites on your own body, huh?)

Then, as things are after a death, life just… Kind of has to continue on as normal. The party travel, pick up Nille, and get to know Loop as this mysterious new person. Maybe in this situation they might stay in Bambouche for a while to give Bonnie more stability since. They are probably taking it the worst. It would've come out of absolutely nowhere for everyone in the party obviously but god, for a kid? For A Kid?

It should be stated NoHats is not intended to be grimdark, just y'know. An exploration of grief. This is also why it's got a bit of a lopsided focus on Bonnie vs the rest of the party because hhrrhghghhghghhhghhghhh <- incoherent

Now, a crossroads.

How does the party discover Loop to be Siffrin? How long does it take. How much have the party embraced them as part of the family (especially with something as intense to bond over as this)?

There's the Odile option. Have her put it together and have to bring it up somehow. This could also be done by Isabeau, perhaps. He's smart. (which. God. If anything's the real Isabeau Torment Nexus it's this)

Then there's the other option batted around by Sam and I. The: The Universe Dislikes Duplicates option.

The items in the house that fzzt away when inspected. The Universe doesn't like there to be two of something, at least not when they're acknowledged. But one of something is just fine…?

Which is to say. I'm not a personal proponent of 'Loop getting their body back'. EXCEPT …… except this one time.

There's only one Siffrin now, so they don't need to be obfuscated to exist.

Consider, if you will. Loop swallowing their guilt for long enough to be comfortable. Falling back into old habits. Without another Siffrin around to compete for the niche of, they actually begin to act like Siffrin again. Not intentionally, it's just… The party is as welcoming as they've always been. And the party swears they keep catching glimpses of a face under all the light.

Then, one day, while still not fully human again, the resemblence becomes undeniable. Loop having not even noticed until everyone looks at them like they've seen a ghost.

Has it been months? How long have they kept up this lie? Is it even a lie, to them? They're Loop. But they were, once, Siffrin.

Even after explaining it, does that make it better or worse?

Bonnie cuts through the betrayed, struck-nerve reactions with a sobering "I missed you."

… Anyway !

Yeah so that's the vibe for NoHats. As for LoopLoops? That's more nebulous. I think it can go anywhere really in the NoHats timeline. I err personally toward the "Loop continuously replays the last 10 minutes before Siffrin's death almost immediately after they find out and have to parkour their ass up the House in the most distressing situation possible to try and get them to hold on, just please hold on." (Remember! Siffrin can remember the contents of Loop's loop backs in the A6 fight!)

But there is the possibility that this happens months, or worse years down the road. One last Loop back. Throw it all away for the chance to just get that one thing you didn't know you even wanted but now know you NEED.

Misc:

Okay miscellaneous time.

This is where I admit that I have a bunch of unfinished NoHats art that I haven't gotten around to yet because I feel like a right tool being so obviously Loop-Centric with my fancontent (I AM . . I REALISE I AM NOT DOING MUCH TO BEAT THE ALLEGATIONS.) So like if people want to see that please say because euaghghghhfh <- the nervous.

this is like the most fucked up place to do isaloop fr. anyway.

one of Sam's mid-game observations that I'm just going to share for no particular reason is that Bonnie's hair shares a bunch of shapes with Siffrin's. The flick up at the top, the 3 pronged shape of the fringe… just something to think about.

Without 2 Siffrins around to compare each other to it'd likely be a lot harder to notice Loop's similarities. Doesn't mean that those similarities don't sting more in this context though.

If you do NoHats without LoopLoops. The concept of this all fading into memory years down the line while they just have slightly-glowy but otherwise regular Siffrin hanging out is fucked up to think about. Just like real grief. Augh

6. a peek into the original dms as a treat from us

#LONG POST....! #be free our ideas. go forth into the wild. and by that i mean neither of us are fic writers so please HUNT US FOR SPORT #isat spoilers #looploops au #nohats au #isat au #isat loop #isat act 6 spoilers #not giving it more tags than that since feels rude to tag the rest of the party lol #lucabytetalks #but yes! to be extra clear: nohats is a 'please play in the space' invitation. because neither of us are big fanwork people! um! #it feels a little bit neglectful of us to not make more stuff for this AU ourselves but... we aren't practiced at that kind of thing. so. #open invitation! we know we won't make anything MASSIVE with this so.. don't hold your breath. and feel free to take the reigns. #we aren't like. the arbiters of 'sif fuckin dies' aus in general obviously but if you want to play with our specific ideas please do! #think of this post like prompts if you want to. go nuts #and @ a certain someone who said in the tags theyd maybe write something inspired. kisses you so sweetly. thank u for even considering it #also hi kaun i was thinking about your little snippet when typing 'act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong' 👋

[remia-art]

Okay, but thank you so much.

Like, I genuinely like Tommy, and I think he and Buck are cute, but it kinda makes me sad to see how nice and happy and gentle the fandom is with his character versus like any of Buck/Eddie’s female love interests.

Especially when I saw people saying that Tommy is Buck’s most developed love interest?? Like, I don’t like Abby but she was literally a main character in season one?? And Tommy who has appeared in four episodes is more developed? Huh??

Anyway, it just kinda sucks to see people treat the female love interests in this show so badly. Like I can admit some of them weren’t written the best, but it feels like there’s a generosity that’s afforded Tommy that’s never been afforded to the women.

And again, don’t get me wrong, I lovelovelove getting to see more queer relationships on the show. I just wish that the fandom could realize that queer relationships don’t mean you have to like disparage every existing female love interest, yknow?

I get you on a spiritual level my dear. Thank you. Exactly what I meant. Some shippers automatically see me as their opposition.

I ship buddie, I really like bucktommy for now, they have chemistry and are sooo cute. Of course.

But I hate the total disregard of female characters in this fandom. As you said and I will continue : Abby started Buck's development. And both him and Eddie grew with each partner they had. And I love and respect all of these girls as characters, with their mistakes and wrong timing.

I just remember the times after Shannon died, I would come to AO3 and there would be tags like "Shannon lives", "we don't die like Shannon", "Shannon is a good mother" and so on

Like, I remember my dear fandom mourning Shannon, my buddie friend shippers being pissed about her death, noone wanted buddie to happen then on Shannon's bones.

Then we moved on, but it was their development nonetheless.

Bucktommy is supermegacute, as Tommy would say, they're "adorable". But if he wasn't a man... God... If it was Tamara (woman), we wouldn't be here.

And anyone who wants to fight me on that, don't bother. I was you when I was 11 years old, I remember.

#911 #911 abc #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie

[licorice-lips]

Okay, so I was thinking about Snape and although I'm avoiding like hell speaking online about Harry Potter, I think it needs to be said because it falls onto the rest of fantastical literature as well, especially those stories that have parallels to fascism/nazism/colonialism in their magical world.

I'd like to start by saying I don't like Snape for a variety of reasons, some of them because of Rowling, others because of the character himself, and others because of his fans, but today I'd like to talk about how Snape's Redemption Arc actually sucks and why, and also about how we're treating redemption arcs as a whole.

Okay, so let's begin by making a sort of timeline on Snape's life: he grew up in an abusive household, suffered bullying by the Marauders through school years, bullied other students as well, called his best friend a slur, "apologized", joined a fascist hate group that actively persecuted and hurt people for things they had no control of, acted on behalf of this group for years, turned against the hate group not out of morals but because their actions began to threaten the people he cared about (like they always said they would, how shocking), bullied his teenage students as a grown adult, acted as a spy against the hate group when it came back, died.

Right, so before I dive into all those things, what we also have to add is that Art isn't made in a vacuum. Just like science can never be done by a completely neutral party, our productions of art are completely based off of our views, especially when we're talking about writing. As a writer myself, I can see exactly how my experiences as a person in the context I was born and grew up in affect my writing and my production of art.

For example, it's very common that I find enemies calling themselves by their last names in American/European fiction but in Brasil, we don't normally call people by their last names unless it's very unique and as a nickname. So when I write enemies, they always call each other by their first names, simply because it doesn't feel right to me any other way. On a more serious example, most of the countries in my fantasy books have some history of colonization or dictatorship because it's a part of my history and I feel it's impacts to this day, so it's something that reflects my own thoughts and ideas in politics.

So when we talk about Snape as a character, we cannot escape the fact that Rowling created him. And as a European author, it's more than clear —and that's especially obvious to people who suffer under colonization to this day— that Rowling has a deeply ingrained colonizer mentality. The goblins in Gringots are a clear and problematic representation of Jewish people, the domestic elves LIKING being enslaved and not changing the status quo by the end of the books, and even Hermione being ridiculed for her militancy on it — these are all representative of how Rowling views the world.

Although there's more, all of those examples make it clear that, when she looks at fascist ideology as a whole, Rowling doesn't think the ideology itself is the problem: the ending is the depiction of them getting rid of the "bad apples" instead of making the "roots of the tree" healthy again is parallel to blaming bad individuals for a system that is corrupted and therefore corrupts. So basically, what the Harry Potter books tell us by the end is that it's okay for you to perpetuate a racist system, just don't do it so openly. The problem for her is not the system, but these people she considers "bad apples" which is basically right-wing ideology.

And my problem with Snape starts here: because Rowling sees purist views as an acceptable way of thinking as long as you don't kill people because of it (because for some reason that's a step too far — but when the system oppresses, beat down, and hates on marginalized people, that's okay) — in her mind and in her writing, Snape's ideological affiliation earlier on in his life is not that big of a problem, especially when he "changes sides".

Snape's active participation in a hate group is dangerously and irresponsibly downplayed both by Rowling and by Snape's apologists and fans when this is, in reality, one of the two greatest offenses his character has to compensate for in his "Redemption Arc". So when he hesitates at nine yo to say to Lily that being a Muggleborn doesn't make a difference (even when he knows it does in a practical sense of what's happening in the Wizarding World), when he despises Petuney for being a Muggle, when he says to Lily that what he, Mulciber and their "death eaters" friends did to Mary McDonald was "just a laugh (btw, I'm sure the Marauders also think what they did was "just a laugh" as well), all of this is not only extremely reprehensible, it's the kind of thing that makes a fascist, a fascist.

And it's not that I don't believe teenagers cannot change their minds and grow with more ease than adults, it's just that this alone would've been enough grounds to understand why Snape's redemption arc sucks. His beliefs from early on, even before he goes to Hogwarts, are extremely problematic and hateful, and they uphold the very corrupted system that is perpetuated against Muggle-borns in the Wizarding World.

Then we reach the point I wanted to make: it's very clear throughout the books that child and teenager Snape struggles with feelings of deep hatred against his parents (especially his father, who's a Muggle), inadequacy in social life even among his peers (wizards and witches) and isolation, all of which make a person undeniably vulnerable to extremist ideology.

And here's my first issue with Snape and his Redemption Arc: his trauma and feelings should not be an excuse for his bad choices and yet, they are used exactly as such. Yes, Snape was an impressionable teenager and yes, he was influenced by an ideology in his desperation to fit in and find solace in a community, but that doesn't matter.

None of it matters because, at the end of the day, his actions for this ideology are just as harmful, just as awful, just as cruel, as the actions of someone who joined the Death Eaters for thoroughly believing Muggleborns were scum. He harmed people just as much as Yaxley, Mulciber, or any other Death Eater who joined Voldemort for their hatred just for his support alone.

And more than that, even if Snape was in a vulnerable state and impressionable, he was still receiving other kinds of influences, influences that were contrary to the bigotry and cruelty of Voldemort — and he still chose to ignore those influences. There was still a level of choice to what he became as a young adult.

But even if there wasn't, Snape is —or at least he should be— responsible for his own choices regardless of influence. As they say in the Kingdom of Heaven film, when you're before God and he asks you why you did something, you won't be able to say that others told you to do so or that it wasn't convenient to do the right thing — it'll not be enough. And it's not enough because your actions matter more than your intentions. Your actions will be the thing that will determine what happens next, not your intentions. It'll be actions that will shape your path and influence or directly impact the path of others around you, not your intentions.

The older I get, the more I understand the power of action and how it says more than any intention or feeling ever will. At the end of it, Snape's actions are what matters, not his feelings or intentions. But as humans, we're so prone to empathize with others that we actually believe that, because someone feels guilty or regrets the things they did, that's enough to forgive them.

We forget that it's not.

Earning forgiveness must come with 5 major steps —

Accountability — do they acknowledge the way their actions hurt us? Do they acknowledge the way they hurt us? Do they acknowledge their role in our pain?

Apologies — do they apologize? Is their apology sincere? Do they hold themselves accountable in their apologies?

Acceptance — do they feel entitled to forgiveness? Do they accept the consequences of their actions? Do they accept the boundaries you impose on the path to forgiveness?

Amends — Did they take steps to mend what's broken? Do they make choices to prevent them from doing this again? Do they try to help without crossing your boundaries?

Alteration — Did they change the behavior that hurt you? Did they take steps to improve themselves?

Those steps are fundamental in a Redemption Arc because it'll exemplify to the (young) readers what is forgivable and how forgiveness is earned, not deserved. That's what grits me the most about Snape's "Redemption Arc":

There is no accountability, at least not for joining and upholding a hate group, and we kinda get accountability for what he did in his friendship with Lily, but in a fucked up way, let's see:

It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. “I only came out because Mary told me you were threatening to sleep here.” “I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Mudblood, it just – ” “Slipped out?” There was no pity in Lily’s voice. “It’s too late. I’ve made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Death Eater friends – you see, you don’t even deny it! You don’t even deny that’s what you’re all aiming to be! You can’t wait to join You-Know-Who, can you?” He opened his mouth, but closed it without speaking. “I can’t pretend anymore. You’ve chosen your way, I’ve chosen mine.” “No – listen, I didn’t mean – ” “ – to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?”

It's very important to me that we dissect this piece of dialog because it shows a lot about Snape and how every time he's tried to apologize, there's no accountability.

He didn't say he's sorry he said that slur (to LILY and only Lily, might I add, when at all would've been ideal but I'll have some leniency because of the situation) — he's said he's sorry, but not for what he has done, just for Lily. He didn't take responsibility for his words as he should — he says it 'slipped out' or that 'he didn't mean, again just to LIly.

He accepted no boundaries Lily tried to impose — sleeping outside Gryffindor? Really?

Most importantly of all, he took absolutely ZERO steps to alter his behavior so that he could never harm someone again like he harmed Lily. And that's very important, I cannot begin to explain how: when we regret doing something, the most fundamental step to take in change.

Change is fundamental to forgiveness but it shouldn't be conditioned by it. If we regret doing something harmful, the first thing to do is to change our behavior. Instead, Snape not only doesn't change his problematic behavior, he doubles down on it, joining the hate group Lily pointed out as one of the main problems in why their relationship couldn't continue, acting in the name of said group for years and only backing down on it when Lily is threatened.

And that reveals something about Snape's worldview: for him, since that day he called Lily a slur, the problem wasn't that he was a bigoted piece of shit (like Lily said it was), the problem, in his head, was that he hurt Lily. And that's not true. The problem is, one hundred percent, his bigoted behavior, and Lily says as much, more than one time. He just does not listen to it. He doesn't listen to her.

More than that, though, you can try to point out that he redeems himself by acting against Voldemort but I'm sorry: what Snape did is not enough. He was part — and believed in — a hate group, it's not enough that he changes sides not because of values, but because one person who is being threatened is dear to him (which was the whole prerogative anyway so I failed to see how he's even surprised by this). You can say that this is good or honorable or "love" but it's not cute to base your entire life around one person.

It's not honorable to prioritize one person over a whole world he was threatening before and not caring at all about them. Disregarding other human beings in favor of one is not as pretty as people think it is and Snape represents this very well: it makes you bitter, it makes you become abusive, cruel, a bully to everyone else. It's not pretty, it's not understandable. Be a fucking decent human being, it's actually not that hard.

But I digress again: my point is, that just because Snape regrets the things he has done for Voldemort (not even out of morals, which drives me mad) it doesn't mean he deserves forgiveness. He doesn't and he hasn't earned it, he didn't even try. Actually, he's so stuck in his regret, he's harmful because of it: guilt is a trap, babes. It sucks you in if you let it and makes you miserable as well as anyone around you. You'll be so remorseful and yet you'll hurt people because of it.

And it's the same thing I've been saying since the beginning: we need to stop associating feelings with deserving forgiveness because you don't deserve forgiveness, you earn it. Either you earn it from someone else, from yourself, or from both, but either way, it's earned, not deserved. If I were to excuse my harmful behavior every time just because I regretted doing something instead of earning their forgiveness by taking steps to apologize to the people I've hurt, I would be compared to my father all the time. And THAT would've been an insult.

Anyway, let's just stop feeling sorry for characters, especially fascists, just because they regret something. Please, let us hold our characters accountable for the shit they've done adequately and make our writers actually put in the work to make them earn the forgiveness they crave instead of just wallowing in their own misery, stuck forever in a vortex of hurting and being hurt that sucks people in. It's not a good example for us readers, it's not a good example of behavior, it's not what a good person who did shitty things should strive to be and we shouldn't think it is.

#snape slander #severus snape bashing #anti severus snape #pro james potter #pro marauders #sirius black #writers #writers on tumblr #female writers #books #harry potter #hp fandom #severus snape #snivellus #james potter #the marauders #marauders era #james potter is actually a good person #i really hate snape #sorry not sorry