#they both are right but I like Jon’s argument better

[jedimaesteryoda]

One trend I've noticed a lot lately in the speculation of Tyrion meeting Daenerys is how he'll influence her. The argument often is that Tyrion will encourage her more "fire and blood" destructive tendencies when they get to Westeros. However, this view is often one-sided as it's always about how Tyrion will influence Daenerys but never about how Daenerys will influence Tyrion.

"Daenerys, I am thrice your age," Ser Jorah said. "I have seen how false men are. Very few are worthy of trust, and Daario Naharis is not one of them. Even his beard wears false colors." That angered her. "Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?" He stiffened. "I did not say that." "You say it every day. Pyat Pree's a liar, Xaro's a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin . . . do you think I'm still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?" "Your Grace—" She bulled over him. "You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better." -ASOS, Daenerys IV

Daenerys is not the sheltered child Aegon was who Tyrion could easily manipulate as shown when she called out Jorah for trying to isolate her from other men. Even Tyrion admitted to Aegon, having never met Daenerys that "she is strong" and "fierce." Daenerys was more worldly at 14 than Aegon is at 16. Even as a small, frightened girl at age 13 in the beginning of the series, she had more street smarts than her adult brother Viserys and has shown to be a prodigy in the series. Tyrion would not be able to manipulate her easily, especially since would initially be wary of him for being a Lannister.

Tyrion at the end of the day would be serving as her subordinate, him being largely dependent on her. Tyrion largely is the way he is because of the toxic family he grew up in. The Lannister vision has no idea of a Good Society, it's just pure self-aggrandizement by any means necessary. As the adage goes, rot always starts at the head. The monarchs Tyrion served as Hand, Joffrey and Cersei, were both cruel, incompetent tyrants with senses of entitlement that outweighed their actual abilities. They also had no concept of the duties of a monarch to their subjects, and instead just abused their power over others, including sexually. The one who actually ran the show for the Lannister regime, Tywin, was a cold, abusive Machiavellian who brutalized the smallfolk and his children, seeing them as pawns in his schemes. Tyrion could be cunning and brutal, because it was both encouraged and necessary for the winner-take-all, dog-eat-dog world of the Lannister court. It was an environment designed to bring out the darker side of his nature.

However, since the beginning we saw hints of the lighter side of his nature such as when he gave emotional support to Jon and designed a special saddle for Bran. He even helped Catelyn when they were attacked by the mountain clans even though she kidnapped him. In A Clash of Kings, we see hints of Tyrion wanting to be something other than the cold Machiavellian like his father when he stands up for Sansa when Joffrey beats her, and he has Morec killed and Slynt sent to the Wall for killing Barra, wanting to "do justice." In A Dance with Dragons, he risks his life to protect Aegon and even in his lowest he looks out for Penny even though she is a complete stranger to him.

Daenerys is a foil to Cersei, whose ruling philosophy is expressed in the statement "Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can't protect themselves?" Daenerys tries to live up to the image of an ideal monarch who protects the weak. She liberates the oppressed from slavery and tries to protect them, even performing acts like tending to those afflicted with the bloody flux herself, marrying someone she doesn't want and putting her plan of going to Westeros on hold to achieve peace. Working as Hand to Queen Daenerys, Tyrion may find himself in a change of pace in a different environment where for once his more positive tendencies are encouraged with his fondness for "cripples, bastards and broken things."

In short, in cutting himself off from his toxic family, Tyrion may actually find a new beginning in service to Daenerys. He's the Machiavellian polymath and court politician she needs, and she's the competent, idealistic monarch he needs.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #queen daenerys #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #tyrion lannister #house lannister #house targaryen #meereen #queen cersei #cersei

[atopvisenyashill]

not to keep harping on but definitely the complaint i see that really sticks in my craw is that the only reason or the main reason robb planned to banish catelyn to seaguard was because of their argument over jon. it’s certainly a factor but they have spent the entire war arguing over every decision robb makes! ned tells robb “keep your mother in your council” but robb really does not! he has her there, yes, he lets her speak, yes, but oftentimes he will disregard her advice without any appeasement, misstep badly, and be worse off politically in the exact way she warned him of. she’s not the only person he blows off - he’s not exactly nice to edmure either, for example - but cat is right when she suspects there’s an element of “kings are not supposed to have mothers” and “wedded to his war" and she clocks this long before the argument over jon! robb tries to get rid of her at the beginning of a clash of kings when all cat has done is urge him to continue peaceful negotiations with the lannisters!

robb is angry because he’s in over his head and he knows it, and it's got very little to do with jon! robb is losing this war and his best friend was the son of a man who crowned himself and lost the war!! robb knows exactly what’s going to happen to the north if he loses and despite everything, he cannot seem to win despite being a near prodigy in battle tactics. and here his mother has been this whole time, fighting him on every front - just like the lords but he cant punish them for disagreeing can he? - and being so frustratingly right about more things than his lords, and now they’re picking at this wound in their family that has never been allowed to heal and a lot of resentment that both robb and catelyn are feeling at their general situation gets focused in on each other. this is such a tully thing too (pls remember these are canonically unpleasant people!) because look at lysa projecting years of resentment onto sansa, look at the entire cat, hoster, edmure situation, or even hoster & blackfish’s relationship. family is so important to them but in times of stress, “doing everything for family” becomes an anchor pulling them down, until the only thing left is to lash out at each other.

most of the lords are happy to let this nonsense play out! catelyn does not even have the privilege maege & dacey mormont do at being head of their own house - she’s just a wife, just a mother, just a first born daughter. when she disagrees, they don’t see an equal arguing with them, they see a woman sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. they do not give a single solitary shit about like, ~the plight of bastards~ they just believe, like robb, that sansa is currently “tainted” by her marriage to a lannister and can’t be allowed to inherit, that arya is dead, that the boys are dead, that jeyne is not yet pregnant, and a bastard boy castle raised who looks like ned is better than no boy at all (see edric storm, addam of hull, and larence snow). these men have not spent the last fourteen years cooking in their resentment over this situation the way catelyn and robb have!

jon is a reason. but so is rickard karstark, jaime lannister, willem lannister, tion frey, renly baratheon, walder frey, and theon greyjoy. ned is a reason as well, and bran, sansa, rickon, arya, hoster, edmure, perhaps even lysa and sweetrobin. jon is the final straw but robb isn’t (only) sending catelyn away because of some righteous fury on his brother’s behalf! he’s sending her away because she is an easy, socially acceptable target for all his frustrations and failures and fears that he can project on, and punish, in a way he cannot punish his enemies, his lords, or himself.

and catelyn is as always very aware of the deeper motivations in her son’s mind, and resentful that she doesn’t have the power to push back; she’s just a mother, after all.

#getting on my soap box #robb stark #catelyn stark #valyrianscrolls #catelyn stark defense squad #cat/robb and ned/sansa/arya are the most interesting & realistic depictions of mother/son and father/daughter relationships send tweet #like the jon snow of it all is always relevant. but she is also right that she’s being punished for being a woman who won’t shut up. just b #some of her advice (SOME! NOT MOST!) is sketch or not good doesn’t mean they’re not punishing her. it’s not like edmure gives good advice! #but guess which tully is sent away!!!!!! edmure gets to have flaws. he gets to be wrong. catelyn does not. #motherhood #mothers and sons #gender politics in asoiaf

[whirlwindimagines]

‘When you’re lost in the universe, don't lose faith’

a/n: Not requested! This is a sequal to 'In the moment where lost and found’, I just want to be by your side.’ Nobody asked for this but I wanted it lol i had written both pretty much back to back, only this took some time. its almost 2000 words! Title is a lyric from Hand of God by Jon Bellion

Edit: I AM SO DUMB? Why didn’t I finish the last paragraph?

You don't know why you are surprised when you wake up to an empty room, at first a deep sadness settles into you, and then anger. Ripping the blankets off and ignoring the pain that flares up in your shoulder you rush out of the room and down a flight of stairs. 

Slamming your hands on the hotel front desk you startle the man behind said desk. “Blonde guy with a red coat, where is he.” Your tone leaves no room for argument, as the man looks at you shocked. The moment stretches out too long, and you lean forward getting into the guy's face. “Well?” you snap at him, which makes him move. 

“Erm... I guess this is for you then.” The hotel clerk hands you a sheet of paper, which you yank out of his hands, turning around to read the contents. 

‘Y/n… I'm sorry. I can't keep my promise to you, it's better this way to part now before you get seriously hurt because of me. Bad things happen around me, and I care about you too much to let me be your downfall. You deserve better, we’ll see each other again one day! But for now, it's goodbye, I’m sorry that I'm too much of a coward to tell you all this in person, but you know I've always been better at running away.’ 

You began to shake either out of anger or something else, how dare he make this decision for you! You wanted to travel with him, the risk meant nothing to you. Stuffing the note in your coat pocket, you turned back to the clerk who flinched at the deadly look in your eyes. “How long ago did he leave this?” 

“The sun just began to rise, so not even an hour ago!” The clerk said, his eyes darting towards the front door. You called out a ‘thanks’ while you rushed out of the hotel, how far could get in an hour? Pretty far, you tracked the whole damn desert if you had to just so that you could wring his pretty neck. If he was sorry for leaving you, he’d be really sorry once you found him.

Thus began the search, you asked any person you came across if they had seen even a hint of Vash’s red coat. You had a feeling Vash wouldn't leave town, no he would make sure you were okay and had some footing and a plan. Because even if he was a coward, he wouldn't leave you in danger. 

You just kept asking people, some pointed you in the right direction and others were wild Thomas chases. Morning turned to afternoon and then to dusk. Frustrated with yourself and Vash you sat down on a bench head in your hands. He would be gone by morning; you knew it deep down. Leaning back to look at the sky, you could feel yourself began to cry. Wiping your eyes harshly you stood. Damn him! Shoving your hands in your pockets, you fisted the material of the note he left you bringing it out. Maybe there would be a clue.

You flipped it over, eyes widening it was a receipt for a Sand steamer. It was a stretch, but you ran to the station hoping that he would be there. Why haven't you looked at that before, shaking your head, it didn't matter you need to move before you ran out of time. 

Making it to the station you looked around frantically. 

You’ve finally spotted the telltale sign of a red coat, without thinking you rush forward grabbing a fistful of said coat with your hands and yanking back hard. You hear Vash yell out startled, as he hits the sand ass first. He looks up at you as if he’s seen a ghost, it's much more like he's looking at one very pissed-off demon.

You stare down at him, hands shaking at your side. He has the gull to look shameful, he then looks away unable to hold your glare. Vash sits up placing his arms over his knees and his head hanging. He looks small, so unlike the man you're used to. It pains you, but you're going to have to hurt him to get him to understand. 

“You left.” 

“I know.”

Silence, you were tired of silence of unsaid words, you’ve had enough. “I got hurt, and it was your fault. Is that what you want to hear? That your right, I’ll probably continue getting hurt because of you. Because someone always going to be chasing you, and I'm making myself a target?” Your tone was harsh, and he flinched not picking his head up. 

“But you know what you hurt me.” Your voice broke, and it caused him to look up to meet your gaze. “You're hurting me right now because you're shutting me out. You think leaving is going to protect me” He doesn’t say anything to you, he just holds your gaze and you can see the tears begin to pool in his eyes. 

“Well, it's not!” you snap, God you’d just wish he’d say something, yell at you get mad something! “I'm going to get hurt again, and you're going to get hurt as well. And you know what? I’m not leaving!” You took a step closer towering over him, maybe you were being too cruel. You needed him to understand, it was you and him till the end of the line no matter what happened between then and now. 

You watched as he clenches his fist, he looks at you sharply pushing his glasses up to rest on top of his head, you watch his tears fall and you ignore the pang in your chest. “I’m scared!” Vash finally snaps at you; his tone is cold but you're just glad he's talking. “I'm scared, that I won't be enough and that I’ll lose you like I've lost everyone else!” he ends the statement with a sob into his hands, “I'm never enough, and I can't let you suffer because of it.” 

Your gaze softens and you drop to your knees in front of Vash, you gently grab his wrists to pull them away from his face. You hold his tearful gaze, with a tearful one of your own. “I’m scared too.” You whisper, dropping his wrists and leaning forward to pull him into a hug your arms resting around his neck and cradling his head in your chest. “But I would rather be scared together than apart.” His arms wrap around you suddenly he pulls you impossibly close and sobs. You hold him as tightly as you can, hoping to convey everything to him. 

“You’re such a crybaby,” you say it as if tears aren’t steaming down your own face, Vash laughs it’s small and way too watery but it’s something. “You’re crying too.” You let out a huff, you continue to hold him as you both cry. 

“Ya know maybe I want to protect you too? Ever think about that?” You muttered as you rest your cheek on top of his head, the silence stretched out, you were just glad to have him in your arms. You shivered as the night air settled over you, Vash squeezed you before dropping his arms and leaning back to look up at you. 

“Why?” His voice was small, you smiled cupping his face in your hands. “Because that’s what you do for the people you love right?” Your words settled over the two of you, a risk, a chance, a choice. You held his face lightly letting him have a chance to pull away, his next actions would determine everything. 

His blue eyes became impossibly wide, and they filled with more tears. You knew you were fully crying at this point as well, but you needed to give Vash a chance to figure things out for himself. So, you waited, and your hands begin to shake as the silence continued. 

It happened in a flash, but Vash stood pulling you up along with him, both on your feet he grabbed your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours, he looked into your eyes and gave you such a bright smile you knew everything would be okay. “You love me?” he asked it quietly, his voice filled with hope. 

You step forwards, to be closer to him. “Yes.” His hands shook, he begins to pull back “It's not safe.” Your own grip on his hands tightened, to keep him in place. “Vash look at me, as long as we’re together nothing else matters. We’ll figure it out. Okay? But God Vash, I love you and I don't want to be apart from you for even a second.”

Your confession was like a trigger for him, Vash pulled you towards him you let out a light shriek as he wrapped his arms around you and begin to twirl with you. “You love me!” Not a question this time, but a loudly proclaimed statement, he continued to spin you until he lost his footing and the both of you toppled to the ground. He managed to break your fall as you landed on his chest. 

“You love me...” you laughed, picking your head up to meet his gaze, “Yes I think we’ve established this.” 

“I... I love you too.” Vash whispered it so softly as if he was still afraid to admit it, it was real now. You both knew there would consequences, but at the moment the thought was far away. He was still scared and you were as well. Your future with Vash was unknown and dangerous, this was a risk for both of you a chance to get hurt, but it was your choice to love him and you would with everything you had. 

You sat up looking down at him, as he only stared at you eyes wide and filled with warmth. You smiled leaning down and you placed a gentle kiss on his beauty mark below his eye. You leaned back, but before you could get too far Vash reached out and placed his hand behind your head to bring you back down to him.

Your lips were only inches apart as he stared at you, a question in his glance and a shyness to his movements. “I want to kiss you.” 

“The feelings mutual.” You replied closing the distance, the angle was awkward. And you were sure Vash could not be comfortable on the ground, but all the same, it was perfect. 

You pulled back, but not before placing another soft kiss upon his lips, you could do this forever and you would never tire of the feeling of his lips on yours. You helped Vash sit up, “can you say it again?” He couldn’t hold your gaze when he asked. His voice was so small, right then and there you decided you were going to spend every day showing Vash how much you love him.

Smiling gently, and leaning in to rest your forehead to Vash’s you spoke quietly into the night 

“I love you, Vash.” You laughed as you watched his face heat up with an obvious blush. You didn't know what tomorrow would hold for you too, it could be peaceful it could be dangerous but you would face it together. He helped you stand; you didn't let him get too far away as you gripped his hand. Leaning in for another kiss, you knew that at this moment it would always be worth it to love Vash and him you.

#vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun stampede x reader #trigun stampede imagine #vash x reader #vash imagines #vash imgaine #vash the stampede x reader #vash x you

[farfaras]

I think I got an ex but I forgot him.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3 (this is it.) AO3 link.

–

Their plan changed. Them planing to come out changed things, mostly the storyline they were going for. Jonathan realizing he was lonely and didn’t actually love Steve as a way to end the relationship seemed too gut wrenching for a baby gay to witness. So that was out.

The timing of them getting together would stay the same. But instead of those elaborate phases they planned, they would just take it one day at a time. Like normal couples would. When they decide to break up, they would just say they realized they work better as friends. Simple, easy.

Today was probably the hardest part of the plan. Coming out to everyone. Dustin actually convinced them, made them believe that the whole crew would be supportive. If anything went sideways Steve was definitely putting this on him.

They had get togethers almost weekly now. It was a comfort thing. Most of the time the brats used these gatherings to play their nerd game. The rest of them just hanging out. Steve only wished Mike took better care of his basement.

The party and Eddie were playing their game on the table. Steve made sure he sat down close to Jonathan, Robin on his other side. Eleven and Max were reading some comics in the corner, on a beanbag. They looked comfortable.

Steve was anxious. He didn’t know how Jonathan could take this level of anticipation and anxiousness. He was fidgeting almost violently, so Jonathan took his hand in his. Robin, who was in the middle of a rant, faltered for a second before going back to talking. Both Steve and Jon’s attention on her. Even though she was still talking, she looked Steve in the eyes and raised a single brow. He knew what she was asking. He hopefully telepathically sent the right message.

When the party announced that they finished their session for today, Mike rushed to get some drinks. Jonathan dropped his hand and resumed his previous position. Steve caught Will and Eddie curiously eyeing the movement, while Dustin was downright staring and not so subtlely hiding his grin.

Everyone was chatting amongst themselves, when Mike returned Jonathan cleared his throat. “Uh, guys?” His voice was slightly louder than it normally was. Also firm. “We have some news.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Who’s we?”

Steve spoke up. “Me and Jonathan.”

“Unexpected but welcomed duo, huh.” Robin tried to lighten the mood. It was like every time someone heard the word news they assumed the worst. Steve gave her a grateful glance.

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Steve reassured them. They seemed to relax at that, nodding and giving them their full attention. Jesus, their faces were earnest and curious. Steve didn’t know if he was gonna survive this. He turned to Jonathan. “Should you tell them or do you want me to do it?”

Jon gave him a small and teasing smile. “I’ll tell them. You got the worst of it already.”

“Hey! What the fuck? I thought we were cool, Jonathan.” Dustin protested when he heard Jon. And that reaction just proved his point.

Jon just stared blankly at him. “Someone just spit it out already.” Mike said, rolling his eyes like the impatient little shit he was.

“You just don’t know how to wait, huh.” Lucas shot back.

“Shut up.”

“Grow up, Mike.”

“Oh, please…”

Eddie’s voice cut through the argument dryly. “Kids! Please, just stay quiet so they can say what they need to.”

Jonathan muttered a quiet thanks before taking a deep breath, probably mentally preparing himself. “I’m just gonna say it.” He looked around, then directly at Steve, before addressing the whole group again. “Steve and I are dating.”

It was like Steve was able to watch all their reactions in slow motion. He mostly just felt Robin’s, her gasp and the way her neck almost fell off from how fast she turned to them. Eleven just nodded and went back to reading, he supposed they haven’t taught her all about what the world thinks about homosexuality? Max’s was kinda scary, she just smirked as if she was going through all the new material she had to tease Steve in her mind. Mike and Lucas both raised their eyebrows, they were comically up. Will’s eyes sparkled and widened at the revelation, he was surprised too. And Eddie was almost unreadable. His mouth slightly opened and he looked shocked, frozen.

Mike broke the silence. “There’s no way.”

“It’s true!” Dustin looked ready to defend them if anyone had something even remotely weird to say.

“You knew?!” Lucas almost shrieked.

“I did.” Dustin looked so proud.

Steve didn’t want to look at Robin right now, he had absolutely no idea how she might react. Or if she was gonna be mad about not knowing first. He felt a hand in his that wasn’t Jon, so he looked up to find Robin softly looking at him. She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for telling us, both of you.” She directed this to Jonathan, too.

“It’s kinda weird that you both dated the same girl,” Max started. “But I guess you’re cute, or whatever.”

“Cute or whatever.” El repeated. Still not paying much attention to them.

Steve laughed. “Thanks?” “I guess.” Added Jon.

The only ones who haven’t said anything were Will and Eddie. The rest of the room put their eyes on them.

“Oh. Um. Even if it’s kinda unexpected, that’s great.” Will nervously said. He looked around. “Right?” A chorus of yeses and rights filled the room. Steve could breathe easier.

“Yeah, great.” Eddie muttered. “We’re all happy for you guys.” His smile was small, almost subdued.

“Okay, now that that’s over,” Jonathan tried to end this conversation, the kids wouldn’t have that though.

“Wait! I have questions!” Lucas of all people exclaimed. “When was this?”

“Uh– well. We got together a few weeks ago. If that’s what you were asking.” Steve answered.

“When?”

“Like 2 weeks after.” Jon replied. They didn’t need to say after what, it was implied.

They answered all their questions with their planned answers.

Who made the first move? Actually Jonathan because Steve wanted to go at his pace.

How did they get together? Jonathan asked him after they came out to each other.

Were they in love? (This was El) At that, they got caught off guard, they didn’t expect someone to ask that. “We haven’t been together for long, El.” She didn’t seem to understand but left it alone after Max said she’d explain it to her later.

Everyone, like Dustin said, was supportive. Which they were grateful for. And Steve was also super happy for Will and Robin to see that their friends would support them too when they decided to come out.

Steve just didn’t know why Eddie was so quiet all of the sudden. He wasn’t like that, which made Steve worry he was actually not all that okay with this. He didn’t want that to be the case, he didn’t think that was the case. But people could surprise you sometimes.

Steve and Jonathan were holding hands while they answered questions. Whenever Steve chanced a glance at Eddie, he looked like he was staring at their hands but quickly redirected his gaze to something else. Steve felt uneasy.

All too soon it was time to go. Everyone was climbing the stairs, Jon was pulling his hand to get out of the basement. Eddie was still packing some of his stuff. Steve stopped walking. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you outside.” He told Jon and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He just nodded and left the basement. Now it was just Steve and Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s up with you?” Steve hadn’t known Eddie for long. But during these last months they had developed a friendship, so Steve thought he knew Eddie an appropriate amount to know something was off.

Eddie’s eyes were slightly more open than usual. “Nothing’s up. Why do you think that?”

“Well, you were awfully quiet at the end there. Not really like you, is it?” Steve went up to Eddie so now they were standing in front of the other.

“Yeah, I’m just kinda tired you know.” He was looking down at his feet.

“You’re not… uncomfortable, are you?” Steve was scared that he might regret asking that. But the way Eddie wasn’t even looking at him right now, made it hard.

Eddie’s eyes widened and worry splayed over his face. “No!” He loudly said. “Not at all, please don’t think that.” He sighed. “I really am just tired, Steve. I promise.”

Steve nodded, maybe he was being paranoid. “Okay, I just. Well, I was worried for a sec.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie moved his hand, like he was gonna rest it on Steve’s shoulder but then he aborted. Okay, that didn’t really help his case, but Steve wanted to believe him. “I know how I could’ve come across. But I’m happy for you, Steve. Um, both of you. You deserve it.” He smiled and didn’t give Steve time to respond before he bolted.

When Steve stepped outside, Eddie’s van was already gone. Will, Jon and Robin were waiting for him by his car.

“Just ‘cause you’re the boyfriend now doesn’t mean I’ll give you shotgun privileges, Byers. I hope you know that.” Robin deadpanned.

Jon put his arms up, innocently enough. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“Good.” Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “We’ll have to schedule our shovel talk, by the way.”

Will cackled while they all climbed into the car.

The ride was short, or more like it felt short. Steve didn’t even feel like time was passing with his friends making him laugh and happy.

He dropped off Jon and Will first. Jonathan gave him a peck on his cheek as a goodbye before he and Will entered their home.

Robin was awfully quiet when it was just the two of them left. She was unbuckling her seatbelt to get out when she decided to say something. “I could’ve sworn it was gonna take you longer to figure out your sexuality.” She looked at him, fondly. Steve was expecting a lot of things, but not that. “Even if I wasn’t given an exclusive, I’m happy for you, Dingus. Hope he treats you well.” She got out of the car with a salute, the dork.

What did Robin mean by all that?

-

This was like a whole other level of fucked up. The universe really liked to just tell Eddie “fuck you!” whenever it wanted. And this moment felt like it was up there, in the top 5.

It was one thing to have a crush on a straight friend, who was so unattainable that he didn’t even need to worry about ever bringing it up, outside of his mind. Steve was a great friend. Which just made him crush harder. It was so easy to almost, not completely, ignore it. Eddie had it all mapped out, he was gonna pine from afar until Steve got a girlfriend. Then he’d make himself get over him. He knew it wasn’t gonna be easy, but he had to. For his sanity.

Leave it to Jonathan freaking Byers, to throw that down the drain.

Eddie was well aware how bad his reaction was to the whole thing. He didn’t want Steve thinking the worst of him. He tried his best at reassuring him that he was happy for them! Even if he wasn’t at all. But at the end of the day, Eddie figured he’s still a coward. Because he ran so fast at the first opportunity he had to get out of there.

He supposed that now that Steve was taken, he still would have to get over him.

But it was so much worse now.

Steve being straight kinda softened the punch of any unrequited feelings Eddie had. He had to accept the cruel reality of Steve never even being able to return them. And he was sure he could live with that.

What he wasn’t sure he could live with is Steve liking guys, but still not liking him.

He bitterly wondered what could Jonathan possibly have that he didn’t. Which wasn’t fair at all because it wasn’t his fault that Steve would choose to date him instead of Eddie. Eddie even liked Jonathan.

This was gonna be torture. But Eddie knows that he was still gonna suffer through it. There wasn’t anything really, that could keep him away from Steve.

#i’m so sleep deprived #so sorry if this ain’t that good #not having regular updates for now #but have this #i think i got an ex but i forgot him #steddie #eventually #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #platonic stonathan #steve harrington and jonathan byers #stranger things #stranger things 4 #mer writes sometimes #jonathan byers #st4 #platonic steve x jonathan #my fics #tag list is closed btw

[15minlatewithbatbucks]

Bats usually keep an eye on large gatherings in Gotham, but in this case Bruce literally can't pay them enough to do their jobs.

---

In Gotham, large gatherings are always risky business. With half a dozen big name rogues with half a dozen screws loose, things can get out of hand FAST.

So yes, forgive Bruce if he likes having at least two bats or birds on the scene when people group together and make themselves easy targets.

His rag-tag group of children, adult or otherwise, usually agree with him. But in this case-

"I'm not going out of my way to help anti-gay protestors," Tim says before Bruce even let's himself think about which of his partners in anti crime he would like at his back. "I'm the one that green-lit the Wayne Enterprises gay agenda that they're protesting."

"That's... Fair."

And it was! Bruce was hardly going to force his bisexual son to save people that would tear him down if given half the chance. He'd demanded far too selflessness of Tim already.

It was just... No one else was volunteering either.

---

Dick, alerted by Tim about the group of anti-gay protestors planning their little event on Facebook, takes one look at Bruce approaching and shakes his head.

"I've heard what they said about my baby brother," he cautions before Bruce can say anything.

Tim, out and secure in his identity, doesn't care what any civilians have to say about him. Dick, deeply angry and protective, cares very much what slander people sling at his little brother.

Bruce, understanding that maybe his eldest was getting better about managing his anger, but deeply unwilling to test his resolve, nods and backs away.

---

Damian is his next choice, though he doesn't hold very high hopes for him either.

"Father, I will not be responsible for the safety of fools willingly endangering themselves," Damian says, reasonably and Bruce is glad to hear it. He has a whole speech about protecting civilians even if they act in defiance of their own safety. It's blown to pieces when Damian explains further. "I've already taken the liberty of inviting Jon and his paramour to heckle them."

"No metas in Gotham," Bruce says before his brain can catch up to his mouth. "This is already a tense situation and-"

"No metas in Gotham," Damian repeats, pitching his voice lower as he mocks his father. "What do you propose Duke is, Father?"

This is an argument he isn't willing to have. Not right now. He puts a pin in it and reaches out to Jon to politely request that he doesn't make an appearance at the protest. Jon concedes in exchange for his permission to come to Gotham's pride event next week. Bruce gives it under the stipulation that Jon and Jay let him give them a full primer on Gotham rogues and how to counter them.

---

Stephanie is somehow warned in advance and texts him before he can reach out to her.

"sorry not sorry, if doctors in Texas can choose to let people die then so can I. ask someone else to help w your homophobe problem"

Bruce wants to point out that is a gross simplification of the fraught political state of Texas. He also wants to point out that they are nowhere near Texas.

He wonders about the feasibility of sponsoring abortion access and trans healthcare in another state if only because it is GENUINELY funny when bigots with talk shows get into a tizzy over Brucie Wayne.

He lets the thought lie for the moment.

---

Duke hears him out, at least, before telling him that he's really sorry, B, but he's gonna be sick that day. It's all very sad, has he tried to talk to Jason?

---

Cass looks at him. He looks at her. They both know she won't be his backup.

---

He hates to say it, but Jason WAS his last choice in this situation. Not for lack of trust or faith in his abilities, but because-

"I'm asking Aunt Harley to have Poison Ivy start a pollen induced gay orgy," he says bluntly when Bruce asks if Jason would be busy on the day of the protest.

"At the-"

"At Wayne Enterprises, for the protest. Yes. Stay away if you value your heterosexuality, old man."

Bruce, remembering his college days and the types of things he's gotten up to in his own time, doesn't correct his son. Revealing that his father was intimately familiar with gay sex isn't a conversation Bruce ever wanted to have with Jason. Or anyone else.

Bruce, wisely, lets the police handle the protest.

#tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #dc pride #batfamily #long post #my writing tag #once again this is coming to you live from my phone rip to everyone

[obsessed-with-timeloops]

The Magnus Archives spoilers but I keep thinking about Jon and Martin landing in the ISAT universe when the fears arrive but like. Right after post loops. So it ends up like:

1) They save these two weirdly accented guys (where one of them clearly has been stabbed holy shit) only to possibly be immediately told that they just got a bunch of evil gods in their world (oops)

2) Jon's eyes absolutely have color when Knowing things or using Eye powers in general.

3) The loops 100% count as a statement and Jon is purposely trying not to be alone with Siffrin so he doesn't munch on their trauma

4) Triple ace solidarity ruined by the knowledge their world is doomed to be plagued by fear gods U.U

5) Martin: "Jon did the fears turn this world black and white" Bonnie:"what's black and white?" Martin: "what" Bonnie: "what" Isabeau: "No but seriously what's black and white." Odile: "I think they're implying that colors exist in their world." Jon: "I see. Colors are apparently unnatural to this world." Martin: "Like that one Lovecraft story?" Jon: "what". Martin: "You know colors beyond our comprehension and what not?" Jon: "I- I suppose??" Bonnie: "Hey! Could this Lovecraft guy be from our world?" Mirabelle: "Wait no. These two just arrived here??? Unless time messed up too???" Jon: "Trust me you do not want to claim him."

6.a) Jon looks at least 10 years if not older than he actually is. He also probably can get along better with Odile anyway. Plus with different universes as backgrounds, the lack of general knowledge around his age wouldn't be obvious. Cue the moment where Jon is asked how old he is and the absolute AWKWARD silence when it's clear that both Jon and Martin are basically Siffrin's age, give or take a few years.

6.b) Bonnie: "Is 30 years old different in your universe? Are you about to die?" Jon: "From embarrassment, perhaps."

7) General discussion/argument/existential dread regarding the Fears and how they interact with this world. Honestly the gang may never forgive Martin and Jon for doing this to them. Even if they do everything they can to help them. They get more sympathy once they find out about the Eyepocalypse and the absolute hell Jon in particular went through. Doesn't mean they have to like it.

8) Siffrin finding out about Jon's knowing powers and asking him if he can Know the name of the island in the North. Jon tries. Then he starts screaming. His eyes are red. Siffrin doesn't ask again.

9.a) The horror and dread knowing that not only is their mission not done. It can't be ever again. And this time, especially if Jon and Martin's story is true... well, the King wasn't easy, but at least he was a person. You can't exactly fight a distorted universe. Their happily ever destroyed forever.

9.b) I could see a physical confrontation happening... if Jon didn't look so absolutely devastated. If he didn't say "do what you will with me, but please leave Martin alone" and Martin yelling at him for being a self-sacrifical idiot. It just sucks so much all around. But it would have been easier if Jon and Martin were bad people. But they're not. Just... broken people doing their best in a broken world. And to do their best to save their own world, the family has to work with them.

9.c) Jon and Siffrin are also idiots with martyr complexes that refuse to talk about their feelings solidarity. Shame that Jon can't help but want to eat Siffrin's trauma cause they probably have a lot to talk about.

10) Funnier note, the slow realization that Jon and Martin in an rpg world. Martin figures it out first and Jon is just. Flabbergasted. Especially when they find out the magic system is rock paper scissors.

11) "rock paper scissors transcends the multi-verse. Neat!" (Later Martin asks Jon if gun is secretly a fourth hand symbol. He does not know and will not Know. He refuses).

12) I think at one point they're gonna have to deal with the fact that statements don't exist in this world. Either Jon gets too close to taking Siffrin's statement or he's going to tell Martin the facts: there is very little way Jon can survive without being a predator. He is an avatar that needs something to fuel his existence. He doesn't want to hurt anyone else ever again. Unless Siffrin wants to write their statement down or someone else does... even then there's no guarantee it's going to be enough.

13) Perhaps wish-craft can save Jon. Maybe. Maybe not. But. The party tells them about wish-craft anyway. It's the one hope they have to fight against this new horror. Maybe it can help Jon too to get out. (Everyone deserves that chance).

I have no fic with this, my fixations are simply crossing over briefly. Hope you enjoyed the ramblings.

#tma #tma spoilers #isat #isat spoilers #this is entirely self indulgent dont mind me #yes there is an implication that Jon and Martin lost their colors in the transition between worlds #in stars and time

[esther-dot]

The only “anti Jonsa” argument that made sense to me is that not one of the characters will get a healing and healthy romance in the books because that’s not the story George is trying to tell. Going by the show, it’s not hard to believe 😕.

(about this ask)

Before I answer, I just want to say that shipping Jonsa and believing it will be canon are two different things. In fact, some of our most beloved fic writers do not think it was (in the show) or ever will be (in the books) canon, so there is no criteria as far as that goes for enjoying and creating for the fandom!

Martin has spoken about loving tragedies and tragic romances, so I’m very sympathetic to that concern. I no longer think we’re getting the ideal with Jonsa, so I even agree to a certain extent. However, the final book is called A Dream of Spring, and Spring carries certain meanings:

Knowing the book was initially going to be called A Time for Wolves, we know which house will benefit from this.

I view Dany’s goal of conquering Westeros, the intentional and unintentional catastrophe that she will cause during her invasion, as so antithetical to who Jon is, what he would be attracted to, and what Martin supports, that a mutual relationship between them wouldn’t merely be tragic, but would be the total undoing, moral and psychological undoing, of Jon. Think about how Ygritte disturbed him with her casual violence and then haunts him after her death, the toll a relationship with Dany would take on him, the state that it would leave him is goes beyond tragic, it’s purely destructive. for Jon to enter into such a relationship voluntarily would be part of Jon going down a very dark path he wouldn’t recover from. Imo, it wouldn’t be tragedy in the way people think of it, both dying fighting the others, but about mutual destruction. I don’t think that works with the tone we expect for the ending. Jon may not get a HEA, but it’s not a satisfactory ending to leave him in the worst place he’s ever been. I can buy a clean tragedy, I can’t buy that. Considering what’s in store for him, parentage reveal, the Others, Dany’s invasion, there’s already a lot going to be added to his plate, and at some point, you’d expect a bit of light to creep in there.

I’d imagine that comes in the form of romantic love, as Martin has what I would say is a high view of love. I’ve talked before about Sam and how he overcomes his fear that has ruled him for the sake of Gilly:

(link)

Love doesn’t just, randomly appear in the story, it changes the characters, for the better in this instance, it moves them and impacts the plot.

I don’t see in Jon the capability of rejecting the Starks, of betraying them in any way, and I certainly don’t think upon having siblings he believes are lost returned to him, he’d over prioritize an invader over their safety—he couldn’t with Ygritte, how much less likely now when his “new” family (the Watch) already betrayed him. If anything, I think his support and loyalty to the Starks will be hardened, even more resolute.

And if we read the Sam/Gilly scenes and see what Martin believes sincere love can do, I think we have reason to conclude that the Starks have the hopeful ending, so Jon will not end the story completely wrecked/a shell of a man, and instead, even in the midst of much personal trauma and turmoil, there will be a saving grace for him. Considering Martin’s stance on violence, it won’t be love for a warmonger that gives him a moment of peace or joy. Maybe we get the ideal ending for Jonsa, maybe we get a tragic ending for them, either way, I think it’s the only relationship that would allow for the right tone.

#dot chat #jonsa

[greenhikingboots]

Dance With Me, Jon Snow

Hey there. So I’ve been sweetly tortured by a headcanon ever since I read @cappymightwrite anon meta, and now it’s time for you to be sweetly tortured by it too.

Wait! Last minute addition inserted right here! I’ve just realized I never actually finished Cappy’s meta. Sorry! The thing is, it’s super long and every time I’ve tried to finish it, I’ve gotten way too excited. Seriously. Such jittery energy. And then I have to scurry off to channel that energy into something like writing snippets of one-shots I’ve never posted. But basically, I think Cappy says way more brilliant stuff than I’m about to but doesn’t directly say my headcanon despite coming very, very close at some points.. So, yeah, I just wanted to clarify that distinction before moving ahead. ❤ Okay, let’s review! As Cappy’s meta taught us, “anon” means soon or shortly. That means when Alys uses the word in the passage below, she uses it incorrectly.

When Owen the Oaf began to dance with Patchface the fool, laughter echoed off the vaulted ceiling. The sight made Lady Alys smile. “Do you dance often, here at Castle Black?” “Every time we have a wedding, my lady.” “You could dance with me, you know. It would be only courteous. You danced with me anon.” “Anon?” teased Jon. “When we were children.” She tore off a bit of bread and threw it at him. “As you know well.” “My lady should dance with her husband.” — ADWD, Jon X

Cappy has some great stuff to say about this, though the strikethroughs and bracketed additions are mine. 😜

Jon immediately picks up on this fumble [and thinks of Sansa, as my headcanon will imply], though tellingly perhaps, he does not clarify this mix up to the reader, he simply repeats it quizzically and teasingly back to her. I’d wager that was very intentional on GRRM’s part — an instance where he is encouraging his reader to do a bit of investigative work, instead of offering up a clear explanation right there on the page. [once again hiding Jon’s direct thoughts of Sansa. That’s the headcanon, anyway. Give me a minute to explain it better.] 

So Alys uses “anon” incorrectly, but two Jon POV chapters later, he uses it correctly when thinking to himself. He’s watching the wildlings pass through the Wall. It’s taking all day. When they start to jostle each other, Jon realizes it’s more than impatience. It’s fear. And then there’s a new paragraph with the new anon line. 🆕

A snowflake danced upon the air. Then another. Dance with me, Jon Snow, he thought. You’ll dance with me anon. — ADWD, Jon XII

The line feels out of the blue to me, which got me thinking about another headcanon I’ve shared — the one I already linked in my bracketed additions above. Maybe you’ve read it before? It’s about the scene where Jon sees Val with Ghost, her physical description changes to be more like Sansa’s, and he thinks that it’s been a long time since he’s seen such a lovely sight. Then, two pages later, there’s the willowy creature line.

Val looked the part [of a princess] and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her. — ADWD, Jon XII

Basically, I made the argument that even though it isn’t acknowledged on the page, Jon knew he’d briefly, unwillingly thought of Sansa. I wrote, “Go read it again, and I think you’ll see that when the willowy creature line happens, it actually feels like a weird logic leap. The dots aren’t connecting because one dot is missing!!!!” 🔍 To me, it seems like this second “anon” line is similar (but without Jon’s defensiveness which leads to a judgemental thought). In short, both are seemingly out of the blue because GRRM is hiding something from us. My evidence to support this is limited, but I do have some. As Cappy pointed out, Jon and Sansa both have memories of snowflakes falling on Robb’s hair the day they left Winterfell. Jon thinks about it a few more times than Sansa does, but here are some  examples from both of them, as a reminder. ❄

He remembered the day he had left Winterfell, all the bittersweet farewells; Bran lying broken, Robb with snow in his hair, Arya raining kisses on him after he'd given her Needle. — AGOT, Jon V He remembered Robb as he had last seen him, standing in the yard with snow melting in his auburn hair. — AGOT, Jon IX She had last seen snow the day she'd left Winterfell. That was a lighter fall than this, she remembered. Robb had melting flakes in his hair when he hugged me… — ASOS, Sansa VII

Let me come back to this in a second. I now want to make sure it’s very clear that Jon’s thoughts while the wildlings pass through the Wall — the second “anon” line in the book — are a callback to Alys, sure, but he isn’t quoting her, right? As previously established, she uses anon incorrectly whereas he uses it correctly. Plus she never says, “Dance with me, Jon Snow.” Those are not her words. 🚫 So what is Jon recalling in that moment, if not Aly’s wedding day? Well, I guess it could be argued that he isn’t recalling anything in paticular. It could be a pure daydream, a piece of foreshadowing and nothing else. But that doesn’t sit right with me. I think this line is a direct hint at moments from Jon and Sansa’s shared past. Because, correct me if I’m wrong, but the books have plenty of instances of characters repeating past conversations and quotes to themselves (“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” is one that leaps out at me, of course), but not instances of characters making up fake conversations that could happen in the future. So here’s my headcanon. “Dance with me, Jon Snow.” ← A younger, courteous Sansa who loves to dance tried to help Jon feel involved during some fancy feast where he’s mopping in the corner (to quote the show). Given the next line, he must have obliged. 🆗 “You’ll dance with me anon.” ← What Sansa said to Jon the day she left for King’s Landing and he left for the Wall. It was her way of saying, “This isn’t goodbye forever.” 💃 It’s the way they both think of Robb with snow melting in his hair that really does it for me. It’s so close to a shared memory, almost like they were in the courtyard at the same time. And yet GRRM doesn’t tell us about their final goodbyes to each other!? Yep, put another tally in the column labeled Jon Was Directly Thinking of Sansa In That Moment But We’re Not Supposed to Know That Yet. That’s my headcanon and I’m sticking to it. I’m never going to get around to putting into in a fic, so here’s a Tumblr post instead. 🎉

#jonsa #headcanon #mini meta maybe? #anon #inspired by cappy #the evidence of jon's crush is growing #he's smitten already #but he can't admit it cuz that would be weird #things i like to think about

[papuhater]

Nolan Crane (cause I love the way you write him) having a chat with one of police woman about recent Scarecrow attack

"For someone who looks not so scary he sure know how to put fear in people."

He takes offence to that and says that in his opinion Scarecrow costume is pretty scary

"It's a dude with suit wearing bag on his head." Ok, now he is pissed and ask how in her opinion he would look scary.

Next day she shows him her sketches where Scarecrow has more comic book accurate costume that actually works.

"I wanted to add noose to his neck but I think it would be too much. Also it would be too easy to grab him by it."

They get to meet more often to talk about what in their opinion is scary and starts having conversations.

am i scary (pretty) enough?

pairing: jonathan crane x fem!police!reader

a/n: nya nya nya nya (my friend said that when i asked for a/n ideas)

summary: [ask]

☤) jon hated cops, he despised how nosy they were, after the scarecrow incident, some of them had to go to the asylum to check on his work, with the rumors going around of him being the scarecrow.

☤) when the noisy gcpd was asking him questions, the police who were writing the notes started speaking, which jon expected due to nosiness, and he responded rather nicely in a sarcastic way.

☤) until he heard a comment that piqued his interest, it was about scarecrow. it seemed you didn't find him (the scarecrow) scary enough, and doctor crane had the urge to find out why.

☤) he found out that she was named y/n, and he became the interrogator in the interrogation, he asked why you didn't think his disguise was terrifying, and you responded with:

"doctor crane you are giving him more credit than his costume deserves, for example, remember the joker? yeah, he wears a whole purple suit, has green hair and scary clown makeup, which can be considered a costume, while scarecrow literaly threw a potato sack into his head while wearing a nice suit and called it a day."

☤) first seconds of it slowly sinking in, he was offended, he seethed on the inside at the idea of being compared to the weird murderous clown, and refuted your opinion with his, thinking that the disguise was scary enough until it hit him,

you were right, his costume was really stupid,

"so, if you had to change anything on his disguise, what would it be?"

☤) the conversation flowed from there, the awkward ambient that could have ended in an argument became a pleasant meeting, you rambled about how he could theme the suit more around scarecrows and less about a weird businessman, and how scarecrows are used for crops he could use a scythe as a physical weapon and the fear gas as mental.

☤) jon actually started liking tolerating cop visits you had to do, looking forward to his one (1) social interaction of the week he actually enjoyed, tolerated. the topics of your conversation grew and it turned more into catching up in life.

☤) and in this visit, he is waiting outside of the asylum for you and when y/n arrives he feels his day just got a bit better, but different this time you came with an excited smile, and while you both walked into his office the chatter began and the conversation fell into the scarecrow again. but instead of asking, you pulled out a notebook with a sketch and handed it to him.

☤) the second jon laid his eyes on it, he was amazed,they weren't any sketches, they were scarecrow sketches, each trace of line was giving him the image of a scarier mask with a hood and a whole outfit, not to forget the scythe, he really liked the detail you put into the sketches.

☤) it was a whole character design you did, and he couldn't separate his eyes from it, it was marvelous, the curves and lines fitted perfectly and it looked like something he could pull off. you continued to ramble about how this disguise and how it was scary and thematic.

"i would've placed a noose, but i felt i was going overboard, so i erased it."

☤) he completely changed his outfit after that  

#jonathan crane #the scarecrow #batman rogues #gotham rogues #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow #batman x reader #nolan #the dark knight #the dark knight x reader

[turtle-paced]

Hello. While I understand that asoiaf aren’t purely about good vs evil, is the idea of house Targaryen being intrinsically more “bad” with the madness and the belief of their own superiority and house Stark being better with how connected the family’s rule is with the North itself and their own mystical abilities an oversimplification of their roles in the story? Like, Daenerys is apparently bad because she thinks she has a right to rule over others because of who she is, but isn’t that how it is with most of the nobility in general? Is the idea of House Stark supposed to how they’re the good feudal lords compared to everyone else, even if the feudal system is supposed to be inherently flawed?

In order: yes, yes, no.

I don't buy the argument that Targaryens are somehow inherently morally worse than other noble families. It's hard to make the comparison anyway, since we know so many more Targaryens in so much more detail than we do literally any other house.

The thing that drives Targ drama, though, is the throne. We have so much Targ material because the author's interested in examining what political power does to individuals, to families, to lovers, to friends, and to society at large. GRRM's writing depicts the monarchy being bad for all these relationships. It enables the worst human tendencies and makes it hard for people to do the right thing. That's true on both an individual level and a social one. The problem isn't inherent to the Targaryens, it's inherent to the monarchy.

Which is why the Starks are in the same boat, even if we know less about them as a family. First Robb, then Jon get the author's challenge - oh, you're running things now? Here are your moral dilemmas. Neither can uphold their obligations to the people around them and rescue their sisters. We see Robb's dilemma from Catelyn's PoV to emphasise the stress on personal relationships.

Our heroes (which includes both the Starklings and Dany) are our heroes because they're trying. They're products of a flawed system, working in a flawed system, and they aren't perfect at recognising the various issues in their flawed systems, but they want to do the right thing by people and make real efforts at it. A lot of the drama comes out of how those efforts are frustrated.

#asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #daenerys targaryen #house targaryen #house stark

[kamenotaku]

In 2012, Cm Punk attracted me to pro wrestling for the first time since I was a child. I came in right around the Punk/Daniel Bryan feud over AJ Lee. I stuck with it for a few years, largely culminating with Wrestlemania 30 and Daniel Bryan’s incredible double win. After that, my interest petered out, but I kept an eye on the scene via Botchamania.

In 2021 I was brought back into wrestling via my now fiancé expressing interest in the whole scene. I had heard of AEW as it spun up, but I paid little attention until August of that year. Rumors abound of CM Punk returning to wrestling as AEW visited Chicago just ahead of All Out. Then it happened, everybody kinda knew it would, but it was still intense, one of the loudest pops in the history of pro wrestling. Seeing Phil Brooks walk out to an arena full of folks cheering his name, it felt like a person returning home. It really grabbed me, and when my partner asked what’s this pro wrestling thing about, I knew AEW was gonna be the shows we followed.

Since then I watch AEW programming three times a week, keeping an eye on certain WWE talent and storyline here and there. I’ve gained a dozen new favorite wrestlers, with folks like Orange Cassidy, Hangman Adam Page, and Jon Moxley topping that list. The 2022 All Out incident, “Brawl Out,” soured my opinion of Punk for a while. I still liked the guy, but just the way things went down in that press conference and beyond knocked him down my roster a few rungs. Mox put the company on his back for a few months, proving how indispensable he is. (Like for real, if Jon Moxley isn’t getting a seven figure salary from good old Tony Khan, what the fuck are we doing?)

Eventually, Punk is back, with his own show even. A soft roster split occurs as AEW Collision gets off the ground as a way to both separate Punk from the people he got into a physical altercation with months prior and to feature more of the top talent in AEW. Things seem to be going well, Punk introduces his so-called “Real” World Championship by pulling it out of bag and spray painting a large straight-edge X across the center. Ok, now there’s two World Champs in AEW, makes some sense if there’s a brand/roster split, gotta have two top titles like the other guys right?

Punk rides the line between babyface and heel every episode of Collision, largely dependent on the crowd reaction it seems. The show feels different, not necessarily in a bad way, slightly different pacing, but still good, if just a little off? He keeps a few people known to affiliate with The Elite, the group he had an actual fist fight with, out of his shows, including the company’s head of talent relations. Not a good sign. He makes an after-show shot at Hangman Page, again someone he’d had real beef with just 6 months prior. It felt weird and half-hearted, like why even comment? He apologizes reportedly. An argument with Jungle Boy Jack Perry about use of real glass in spot happens and then leaked out weeks later. Weirder and weirder.

2023, at the biggest pro wrestling show ever, All In Wembley, CM Punk gets into a physical fight with Jack Perry just before Punk is to have the biggest match of his career against longtime rival Samoa Joe. Things are BAD. Joe and Punk do their match, it’s pretty damn good. An investigation into the fight happens. Just under a week later, on September 2, CM Punk is released from AEW, right before All Out 2023. Almost a year to the day from when Punk got into a fight with the executive vice presidents of AEW, he gets into another physical fight over a comment from Jack Perry about real glass. Tony Khan does the right thing and lets Phil Brooks go on his way. And you know what? I think I’ve typed all of this up, at like 2am, to do the same. As much as I like CM Punk from a decade ago now, I’ve moved on. He’s still an incredible talent, and certainly one of the better folks in the wrestling business from politics side of things, but his temper, his inability to just let little things go has got me looking elsewhere.

So goodbye Phil Brooks. Goodbye CM Punk. I hope you just take some time off. Spend it with your wife and dog. Chill in Chicago and maybe just work on comics or movies and shows once the strikes are over. I really do wish you the best, and I guess I want to thank you for reigniting my interest in wrestling. It’s something that my soon-to-be wife and I have bonded over, so thank you and goodbye.

#aew #cm punk #wrestling #pro wrestling #aew dynamite #aew rampage #aew collision

[allovesthings]

Do you think Jon Snow and Robb Stark were too similar? Not saying they are but I wonder if you think one is better than the other in terms of leadership and military prowess?

That is a good question. They are brothers so I think they do have things in common and they were taught the same thing by the same person.Theirs story parallels each other in a lot of ways and duty and love are such a major themes in both of theirs arcs. Also theirs death are really similar (betrayal/duty vs love/ stabbed/saying theirs wolves' names as they die, etc...), but the context is different, one is dealing with the south and the other the north and that, in itself would change the way they would think about it (because the North and the South are incredibly different). so no I don't think they are too similar, I think Jon and Robb wouldn't make the same choices if they were in the other's shoes.

In terms of leadership and military prowess... I think Jon is better at the politics and the negotiation part and Robb is better at the strategy/military prowess.

Not that Jon is bad at it, don't get me wrong. Jon did manage to hold a siege with barely a few hundreds men but Robb is a genius battle commander and strategist at 14 and I think we see Jon in one battle while Robb is constantly battling from the end of agot to the red wedding and and he constantly win all of his battles, He lost zero (which is also a reason why he had to be killed at a wedding instead of a battlefield).If Tywin wasn't stopped at Riverrun, I think his trap would have worked and Stannis would be on the throne negociating with Robb after Blackwater, instead of the mess of the Lannister regime in feast/dance.

The way Jon deals with the freefolks and the northerners in adwd is amazing, the wedding between Alys and Sigorn is brilliant, he knows the north and how to deal with them and genuinely almost the only reason Stannis even has that much people in his army is because Jon helped him. He managed to bring the Freefolks to the realm and if (and when) he'll come back, he'll have theirs loyalty.

I don't know if Robb would have isolated himself like Jon did, sending all of his friends away at the end of a dance with dragons and making himself vulnerable, (he kinda did the opposite with Bolton when I think about it, sending him away and allowing him to have more freedom to be able to communicate with Tywin).

On the other hand, I don't think Jon would have broken his vows to the Frey (because he would not have made a deal as bad with the Freys in the first place, especially about Arya not being engaged to a son who would inherit nothing for exemple) and I think Jon may have understood earlier that the girls should be exchanged as hostages with Jaime because Arya. but also because he would recognise earlier that you can marry them off to have better alliances (Robb tells Cat she was right when he talks about that in asos).

Who is better at it, in general though ? I don't know, I want to say...Jon because he stays alive for longer but that's not really a good argument.

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #that was so much fun to write thank you for the ask #jon snow #robb stark #arya stark #catelyn stark #tywin lannister

[sydsaint]

Sweet baby YOOTS content.

Summary: The reader is William Regals daughter who has a crush on Wheeler that her dad doesn't approve of.

You arrive at the gym with your bag slung low over your shoulder and an eager smile on your face. You sniff the air and let out a content sigh. 'That's the smell of hard work.' You think to yourself as you walk up to the front desk and pull out your membership card. 

While you are getting checked in at the desk someone comes up behind you and gently taps you on the shoulder. You turn around and find Wheeler Yuta smiling at you. "Wheeler!" You greet him. "Funny running into you here. Doesn't my dad work you, Mox, and Bryan enough already?" You joke. 

"Obviously not." Wheeler chuckles with you and pulls out his card as well. "We've got another training session today. Did Regal not tell you?" He asks you. 

You frown at Wheeler's statement and shake your head. "No...he didn't." You inform him. "Which is odd, because he's always nagging me about hitting the gym more." 

The girl at the desk hands you back your card and takes Wheeler's from him. You linger around while Yuta gets checked in so you can chat a bit more. 

"Yeah, that is kind of weird." Wheeler agrees. "I mean you are his daughter." 

You shrug and try not to read into it too much. "Oh, I'm not going to worry about it." You force a smile. "I'm sure that the old man just forgot to tell me about it, is all." You insist. "Wait for me outside the locker room, yeah? I'm gonna go change really fast." 

"Yeah, for sure." Wheeler nods and you head for the girl's locker rooms. 

You change and put your bag away safely in a locker as fast as you so as to not keep Wheeler waiting long. When you come out of the locker room he is right where he said he'd be waiting for you with that adorable smile on his face. 

"Right, thanks for waiting for me, Wheeler." You thank him. "Come on, I'm sure that my dad will be happy to see me." 

"No problem, Y/N." Wheeler flashes a toothy grin at you. 

The two of you walk off onto the gym floor and it doesn't take you long to spot Jon chatting casually with Bryan across the room. You and Wheeler walk over to the pair and you greet them. 

"Jon! Bryan! You two sure did get here early." You comment with a friendly smile. 

Jon and Bryan stop their conversation and look at you and Wheeler. Both of them seem surprised to see you. "Y/N...hey." Bryan greets you first. 

"Yeah, hey, Y/N," Jon adds quietly. "When did you get here?" He asks you. 

"Just a few minutes ago." You answer him with a shrug. "I met Wheeler at the front desk and he told me that we had a training session today. I guess that my dad forgot to tell me." 

Jon and Bryan share a small look before they turn back to you. "Right...he must have forgotten." Bryan nods. 

You notice Jon and Bryan's odd behavior right off the bat and are about to confront them about it when Regal joins the group. You turn and expect a warm welcome from your dad but he looks just s surprised to see you as Bryan and Mox did. 

"Y/N? Love, what are you doing here?" Regal asks you with a confused look. 

You furrow your brows, smile faltering. "What do you mean dad?" You laugh at his obvious joke. "We've got a training session today, why wouldn't I be here?" You ask him. 

"No, Jon, Bryan, and young Wheeler have a training session today." Regal clarifies. "I don't recall asking you to be in on this one." He informs you. 

"Excuse me?" You scoff. "Why wouldn't I be here for a training session, dad? I'm a part of the team just like they are." You remind him. 

Regal remains calm despite your raised voice and glances at Jon and Bryan who usher Wheeler away for the moment. "Y/N, my dear, please calm down. There is a perfectly good explanation as to why I didn't want you to train with us today." He assures you. 

"There damn well better be, dad!" You cross your arms with a frown. 

A few feet away Wheeler, Bryan, and Jon, all stand in a group and try their best not to listen in on the argument happening a few feet from them. 

"Shouldn't we go try and help resolve this?" Wheeler asks Jon and Bryan. 

Jon shakes his head. "You definitely shouldn't, no." He informs Wheeler. 

"Yeah." Bryan agrees with Jon. "They are most definitely arguing about you. Or at the very least, about to start." He explains. 

"What?" Wheeler replies. "Why would they be arguing about me?" He glances between Jon and Bryan. "Did I do something wrong?" He frowns. 

Jon lets out a small chuckle and Bryan does the same. Jon pats Wheeler on the shoulder gently and sighs. "Not on purpose no." He explains. 

Wheeler shakes his head in confusion and racks his brain for what he could have possibly done to piss off either you or Regal. As far as he knows, Wheeler has been nothing but kind and sweet to you. And he can't recall Regal ever being upset with him over anything these past few weeks either. 

A couple of minutes and some hushed argument later, Wheeler watches you stomp over to him, Mox, and Bryan. You get to everyone's side and push past Mox without care. 

"Wheeler, do you think that I am a distraction in the ring to you?" You ask him outright as Regal hurries over to your side. 

"Y/N!" Regal scolds you. 

You turn to your father and poke a finger at him. "No! He's going to answer the question." You warn, Regal. "Well? What do you think, Wheeler?" You turn back to him. 

"I umm..." Wheeler gets flustered and finds that he can't answer your question right away. 

"Now do you see what I mean?" Regal accuses you. "Look at the poor boy! He can't think straight when you're around. Tell me, how is he supposed to be a good teammate if he's too occupied with his crush on you, Y/N?" He asks you. 

"I...what?!" Wheeler coughs, his face flushed red. 

You glare at your father and turn to glance at poor Wheeler before you turn back to him. "Wheeler is a great talent and perfectly capable of pulling his weight in the ring, regardless if he's got a crush on me or not!" You claim and poke at your father. "Come on Wheeler, let's get out of here." 

Wheeler looks at you then at Mox and Bryan before turning back to you. He isn't quite sure what he should do. Regal is correct in claiming that Wheeler's got a crush on you. But he doesn't want to jeopardize his place in the BCC due to his crush. 

Mox and Bryan both nod at Wheeler, signaling that he should follow you rather than stay in place. He takes their advice and walks over to your side before you stomp off with him in tow. 

"Well, that was fun." Mox cracks a joke with a grin. 

Bryan shakes his head with a laugh and Regal lets out a sigh. He turns and watches you head off to the other side of the room with Wheeler at your side. Once you are pretty much out of sight he turns back to Jon and Bryan. 

"You two know that I am right." He claims with a stern look. "As much as I love and adore my daughter, as long as she's around him, Wheeler won't focus as much as he could." 

Mox and Bryan both nod in agreement, but Mox has something to add. "Yeah, but they're both still kids. He's got plenty of time to practice his skills, William. Let them have fun and be kids." He suggests. 

"Yeah, come on Regal." Bryan agrees. "They'll be fine." He assures the older man. "Plus, if anything Y/N can keep him in high spirits and ready for anything." He adds. 

Regal sighs again, but he knows that his colleagues are right about you and Wheeler. 

On the other side of the room, you and Wheeler are alone for the moment and you are still seething about your dad's behavior. "God, can you believe him?" You complain aloud. 

"Are you alright?" Wheeler asks softly. 

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, Wheeler. Thanks." You calm yourself down a bit and nod. "Sorry about all of that, I didn't mean to chuck you into the middle of my dad and I's argument." You blush a bit, embarrassed at your brash actions. 

Wheeler mimics your nod softly. "It's alright. As much as I like your dad, Bryan, and Jon, I don't think that it even be worth it if I didn't get to spend time with you." He explains. 

"Awe, Wheeler." You crack a smile, anger fading away. "Is it true what my dad was saying about you? Do you have a crush on me?" You ask him. 

"I'm here, aren't I?" Wheeler chuckles nervously.

You nod, the smile on your face widening. "Yes, you are." You step forward and hug him gently. "I like you too, by the way. Now come on, we should probably go say sorry to my dad for storming off. Or I should at least."

"Alright." Wheeler agrees. "But we can do it together if you'd like." He offers, grabbing your hand. "I did walk off with you after all." He reminds you.

"Yeah, I'd like that." You blush. "Together it is then."

#aew #aew dynamite #aew dark #wrestling #aew elevation #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #all elite wrestling #aew wrestling #wheeler yuta #blackpool combat club #william regal #jon moxely

[icefrye19]

Chapter Seven: Night Watcher

   

     Winterfell 298 ( Lyarra is 15, Jon and Robb are 16, Sansa is 14, Arya is 11, Bran is 10, Sharma 22  and Rickon is 7 ( changing his age a bit)

Years have passed on and the Ice Dragon had blossom into a beautiful young woman, more whispers would spread across the North of her beauty, her kindness and her angelic voice.

During that time, Lyarra has gotten close with Samara the two had became best friends with one another always be there for one another when they needed to.

Arya and Jon had welcomed them into their family right away, Robb didn't trust Samara and thought her to be an evil spirit or something.

An incident where Samara was teaching Lyarra about her magic more  , Robb and Theon were walking by and was curious at it , Theon began to pick at the Sourceess claiming she would teach Lyarra to be a monster like herself Samara got upset at Theon words and nearly burned his arm off.

Theon arms was covered in scars for that year although Samara healed him afterwards, Robb wasn’t forgiven on the manner.

In truth, her mother didn't want her to learn any new magic she once again wanted her focusing on her ladies lessons and to try to find a husband.

Her father thankfully didn't give into mother's words and allow Samara to stay here on one condition that she helped in with chores and helped Lyarra control her magic better.

Samara had agreed to the terms, since then she had became like another sister to her and Arya.

Bran and Rickon loved Samara and would often play with her much to her mother's protests.

During the years, her mother and her had constantly got into argument after argument sometimes about Jon, other times about finding a husband and most of the times about Samara.

Her mother didn't like her spending time with the Sourceess but of course the young ice dragon rebelled against her mother and didn't listen same as the young she-wolf.

Her mother had felt lost for the first time in years and left them alone to do what they wish to but it wouldn't last for long.

Now, as Lyarra was standing next to Samara watching Bran from below trying to shoot an arrow with the help of Jon and Robb next to them sat Rickon who looked on in amusement.

Across from them her mother and father watched as well with smiles on their faces.

Bran was not the best marksman yet ; one after another arrow seemed to miss their target, to his disappointment and Rickon's amusement.

"Relax your bow arm." said Robb.

"Don't think too much Bran, father 's watching... And your mother too." added Jon.

Bran looked ready to fire his arrow, but another had landed dead center before he could release his own. Looking to his right, he found a smiling Arya, weapon in hand and quite proud of herself.

Bested by his sister, he resorted to chasing the she-wolf across the yard, to Robb and Jon's joy.

"Faster Bran!" encouraged the latter.

The moment would have lasted longer, if not for the voice of Master Luwin.

"Lord Stark, a letter from Castle Black."

The patriarch of the family turned to the older man, and read the message.

"What is it?" asked Catelyn.

"A desserter from the Night's Watch." Ned answered.

The former Tully raised a brow; she was well aware of how her dearest husband would take his sons to see the execution.

"Ready the horses; and tell Bran that he's coming." ordered Ned.

"Ten is too young to see such things." Catelyn responded.

"The law is the law, Your Grace." Maester Luwin pointed out. This rendered the Trout's protests void.

"And winter is coming." Ned continued.

" Winter is already here father " Lyarra spoke up turning to look at her father.

Both parents looked to her direction, surprised.

"Did that monster fill your head with thoughts, young lady?" Catelyn inquired.

"Samara's no monster! You just—"

"Enough, both of you! Lyarra, you're coming to see the execution as well" Ned exclaimed tired of the bickering between the two of them.

" I rather be in my chambers " Lyarra grumbled.

" Being inside all the time isn't good for you Lya you know that you can't hide from the world " Samara points out.

"No, you must come." insisted her father. He knew how much the relationship between his wife and niece had worsened over the years. He wanted Lyarra to be far away from Catelyn for once.

"May the Old Gods help me." he mumbled as he left for the stables.

" Can Samara coming with us " Lyarra calling after her father.

"No, she may not. She has other uses." Catelyn quipped. The sorceress raised a brow, thinking to herself.

"I can help Arya with her sewing." she spoke up.

" What why can't she come besides Arya hates sewing " Lyarra said.

"The both of you have gone too wild, especially you, Lyarra. You're supposed to set an example for your sisters, and you're clearly failing Arya."Catelyn scolded.

"You're in the North, Mother. Trouts without hard scales cannot survive here, and your precious Sansa is too tame, we are wolves mother we're supposed to be wild " Lyarra snorted.

" You and Arya are ladies you must act properly and it's about time for you and Samara to separate from each other " Catelyn said.

This angered Lyarra to no end. Arguing with her mother had made her want to remove her gloves, but a shriek from the sewing room stopped her. Samara smirked as she saw Sansa running from three crows.

What in the world was that " Catelyn exclaimed before walking away to check it out.

" Don't let her get to you Lya, I know you and your mother don't get along but try to at least she's your mother at the end of the day and she's only doing what she thinks is best for you she loves you " Samara said.

She still couldn't contain her smile as Catelyn tried to help her daughter.

"You're a massive hypocrite. What did you do?" remarked Lyarra.

"Let's just say Fuyutsuki is behind it." Samara smirked.

" Don't let my mother learn of the truth " Lyarra chuckled.

  

         

          

                      Later On

Riding through the moors of the North, Lyarra couldn't help but appreciate the surroundings. Samara would have come with them, but she had to attend to Arya's sewing.

The older Stark lady had scoffed at that idea, but her mother had given her an ultimatum; let her friend come and not allow her back into the castle, or Samara help Arya but Lyarra goes to see the execution. The lady had refused to argue; she was tired of doing so.

Samara had not liked the arrangement. Instead, she helped the younger she-wolf with her sewing for a few moments and snuck out as a bird to catch up with Lyarra's party.

She had come just in time to find Will the Desserter on the chopping block, uttering something about white walkers.

As Lyarra was standing next to Robb and Jon she stood behind Bran putting her hands on his shoulders for support.

As Bran was about to look away, " Don't look away father will know if you do " Jon says behind them.

One of the guards, brought the desster forwarded in front of Ned the man kneel and looked down onto towards the ground.

"White walkers, White walker... I saw them, I swear!" muttered Will. Lyarra looked up, seeing a lone bird across the sky. Worried, she listened as her father stated his annoyingly many titles.

"... Hereby, sentence you to death."

"My Lord ,please wait! May I speak to your eldest daughter?" Will requested.

"No one believes the word of a criminal." added Theon.

"Shut up, Theon." Robb scolded him.

"Go on." Ned responded.

Lyarra stepped forward, careful of her surroundings. She was quite apprehensive about the request, but something told her that she needed to listen.

"The Night King spoke before he killed my men. He told me he was looking for girl named Lyarra Stark,  he wants you to be his queen."

Lyarra was speechless.  She was not expecting to hear that 'proposal', let alone one from a creature long thought to be gone. Her eyes started to turn white, scaring everyone.

"M'lady?"

"Silence!" Ned hissed. Will complied, confused.

"I've been waiting for you, Lady Stark. Blood of snow and ashes, born of rebellious and chaos. Come to me, and be my queen. " spoke a soft, deep voice.

"Who are you?" Lyarra inquired.

"You don't have to know my name. Be my queen, or you suffer." replied the voice.

The last thing Lyarra saw were a pair of glowing, blue eyes before her vision came to an end.

" You saw him didn't you "  Will asked looking at the young Stark girl curiously.

" I don't know what I saw " Lyarra mumbled.

" Lya, are you alright " Jon asked laying a hand on her shoulder.

" What happened " Robb questioned looking at his sister weridly knowing she another one of her visions.

" What did you see Lya " Bran asked.

" I don't know I'm not sure " Lyarra shook her head.

He tapped his daughter on the shoulder, signifying that the talk must end.

"A madman sees what he sees."

He unsheathed his greatsword, Ice and chopped the desserter 'a head clean.

Lyarra signed and walked away from the dead desster body before making her way back to her horse and riding off knowing she had to get out of here now.

   

                      Later That Day

Lyarra was in her chambers sitting on her bed her harp on her lap, she began to strum the strings trying to decide what song she should sing

The young ice dragon soon hears a knock on the door, Lyarra signed and set her harp down and opened her door revaleing Jon who stood there with two direwolves in his arms.

" Jon, where did you get these beautiful pups from " Lyarra asked letting him inside.

" Well, after you left we came across them their mother was killed by a mountain lion the pups survived there are 7 of them , father had allowed us to keep them one for each of us " Jon said.

" This one is yours " Jon said handing her the white fur icy blue eyed direwolf which she hastily accepted.

" She's so beautiful " Lyarra flushed looking down at the pup smiling.

" How do you know it's a she " Jon questioned.

" I have a feeling " Lyarra hummed.

" Have you thought of a name for this little one " Jon asked.

" Yes, Crystal " Lyarra smiled.

" What about yours " Lyarra questioned looking at the white red eyed pup in her brother's arms in fascination the pup eyes were red which was strange but mysterious at the same time.

" Ghost " Jon answered.

" And what does my mother have to say about this " Lyarra snorted knowing her mother wouldn't be happy about inviting wild animals into her home.

" Lady Catelyn says we are allowed to keep it but when the royal family gets here we must keep them in the kneels and we must take care of themselves " Jon replied.

" Royal family " Lyarra eyes widen at that.

" The King and Queen are on their way here along with their children, Jon Arryn has passed away and The King is looking for a new hand " Jon explained.

" Ugh, no seriously we are to have company " Lyarra signed in annoyance she hated when anyone visit her home she would have to act like the proper lady she wasn't.

Her mother would be more harder on her when they had guests she expected her to be proper at all times and Samara would be force to work in the kitchen as a kitchen maid her mother didn't want anyone to know of the Sourceess presence in their home.

" It's will only be for a few weeks and then afterward The King will leave " Jon reassured her.

But what the gray wolf didn't know that everything would change for their family when the king would visit for the lions were coming to Winterfell and the ice dragon would be wedded to the golden lion.

#game of thrones #original character #robb stark #freyallan #got #asoif oc #asoif/got #asoif fanfic #ned stark #catelyn tully #sansa stark #arya stark #robert baratheon #fafiction #got fanfiction #bran stark #rickon stark

[dulcewrites]

What do you think of Alys? There are lots of rumours surrounding her, but I think we both know how men used to write about women who refused to play the victim in patriarchal society and actually achieved something. She was Queen of Harrenhall after all. But what is more disturbing to me is that some people say that she used Aemond for her own goal which was to climb on social ladder and give birth to royal child. I just can't help but think yep, she was supposed to be happy that she will spend her entire life as bastard serving her family which contained father who surely treated her poorly (since when bastards are treated well to begin with? Apart from Jon and Sand Snakes obviously) and his wife who surely wasn't happy about having to see the living proof of her husband's cheating and half brothers Harwin and Larys who most likely didn't care about her at all. Look how men who really work hard to better their position within Westeros society even though they weren't much influential from the beginning of their life, managed to climb really high due to their intelligence, wit and dedication - Varys and Littlefinger. And yet they are called masterminds, their morals are questionable but still their ability to achieve things because they were smart is impressive. They serve first and foremost their own interest, but when men does it, it's alright but when women they are condemned to hell. When a woman called Alys Rivers has ambitions, most likely doesn't want to spend the rest of her life as servant since she did it for like 30 years and has every right to have enough of it, aims for something better, doesn't play damsel in distress even for a second - she is evil, seductress, femme fatale who will help Aemond descent into darkness in order to gain something from it lol the level of misogyny is so high I just am shocked people still think like this where this mentality should be gone long ago

I think the conflicting way people speak about alys comes from 1) the extremely weird way she was written in the book (f&b in general is not good but that’s another discussion for another day) and 2) the very binary camps people put women, and through that, female characters into.

If she is a victim of her circumstances, she must be the right kind of the victim. If she “rises above” (which in of itself titers into misogyny bc why is it either she was ‘strong enough’ to pull herself up by her bootstraps or she was too ‘weak’ not to), it must be in a way the audience finds palatable and of their liking. People are extremely uncomfortable and frankly very nasty when women do not show responses to trauma in the way they like. Hence why people are fucking awful when it comes to Alicent.

If people want to see alys as some seductress that’s their prerogative. I think that is a very shallow and weird way to look at a woman who probably went through sexual trauma in her life. Same with people thinking Aemond is going to assault her. Once again, very odd to theorize that someone who in show canon was assaulted himself is a r*pist. I personally find the she got pregnant then sent him to his death on purpose argument not only weird but also.. lacking any sense. If she was trying to secure the bag, why on earth would she want to essentially kill the one person who could confirm they were together and the baby is his???Now I’m of the belief that Aemond was going to fight Daemon regardless but the notion alys put it in his head bc she knew he would die is frankly nonsensical to me.

I think alys is indicative of her time. It’s why I think her story, along with nettles and maybe even Sara if they include her, are important. The surface level way she gets talked about and sometimes erased in this fandom is a literal representative of how bastardy for women plays out. The fact that people want these three women wiped from the show is so wild to me. Another convo we will eventually have is how gross it is how this fandom treats the people that actually represent them. You are not a targaryen.. you are the smallfolk

Idk if this answered your question. I feel like I’ve answered this before in different ask and I always regurgitate the same stuff. I may not be making sense lol. I like Alys. I’m excited for alys. Here’s a shameless plug of how i truly see her

#asks and requests #hotd talk

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Corrupted, Chapter 15 - a TMA x Malevolent Crossover

“I’ve got a job,” says Tim, earpieces in place. “And I have zero assignments.”

That sounds dangerously like wishing not to be bored, says Hastur. That wish has never turned out well for anyone.

Chapter fifteen of Corrupted, a TMA x Malevolent crossover.

AO3

---------

Jon catches the voice out in the hall. It drifts into his dreamy state because it is aggressively American, or at least what the entertainment industry would label Southern.

Just last week, he’d gotten into an argument with Sasha about how the “south” of many nations seemed to have some kind of drawl which, for whatever bizarre reason, was not considered the “standard” accent. He hadn’t won, but could concede a draw, and so that made him wonder just what—

“Oh, he’s in here? Thank you kindly, ma’am,” says the whoever, and a man comes into his room.

Subtle as a fire alarm, Jon squints one eye open.

He doesn’t know the guy standing by his bed. Sort of inoffensively blond, unremarkable; he wears business casual, round glasses, and a warm smile that Jon immediately dislikes because he does not know this person and distrusts anyone who'd pretend affection toward him.

“Mister Sims?” says the guy.

“Present,” says Jon as if in school. 

The guy chuckles. “Name is Matthew Larson. I wondered if you had a minute to talk.”

Jon can’t figure him out. He wears no regalia to easily identify whatever he’s representing. What does he want? What’s he after? “I’m not interested in converting,” he says.

The guy chuckles again. “Nobody’s gonna ask you to do that. I had some questions about your friend’s… companion.”

Jon stares at him with both eyes. “What?”

“Obviously, this isn’t a great time,” says this Larson, and places a business card on the little side table. “When you’re feeling better, though, I’d really appreciate a call. Been looking for that guy for a long time. Your friend isn’t safe.”

Jon blinks. “What?”

“Your friend isn’t safe. We both know there’s something plum awful inside him, don’t we? A cancer—but sentient. When you’re ready, give me a call, all right?” The man touches two fingers to his forehead as though he would’ve tipped his hat if he’d had one, and leaves.

Well, that was weird.

So weird, in fact, that Jon suspects it might not have happened. He drifts off, suffering bizarre morphine dreams.

He is genuinely surprised to find the card is actually there when he wakes.

#

Even magical bullshit jobs take time and paperwork to figure out. By the time they’re done, it’s well into the afternoon, and Tim is hungry. “So,” he says. “What’s good to eat around here?”

“Oh, I do love the little cafes and such,” Elias says, putting away signed forms and document folders. “Though most of the staff, you’ll find, choose to bring their lunch, or to eat elsewhere entirely, thanks to the expense.”

“It is Chelsea,” says Tim, grim.

“Indeed.”

“So… I can just go?”

“As you wish. Jon isn’t in any shape to take on the next assignment, so for now, you’re free to do what you like. I’d suggest getting to know your coworkers.”

Tim sighs. “That’s a weird orientation, new boss. Not gonna lie.”

Elias smiles. “Do you want actual job orientation?”

“Yeah?”

“Then I will provide it.” Elias takes out his phone and taps a message. “I will warn you, however: no one here knows what’s going on.”

“No one…”

“Knows.”

Tim stares. “You mean about Hastur?”

“I mean about all of it. Most are casually agnostic.”

“Are you serious?” says Tim.

“Quite. I thought the warning might be good so you don't make the wrong comment and appear insane.”

Elias’s humor, Tim observes, is a dry but cruel one. “Shit,” says Tim.

“Professional language, please,” says Elias, looking entertained.

Tim throws his hands in the air. “What about the places on the list you gave me?”

“Detective Tonner is still focused on you, so you may need to make some more trips,” says Elias. “The department itself, however, has been neatly distracted by Simon’s gambit. It was…” He inhales, pupils going big. “Quite the sight, wasn’t it?”

Tim shudders. “Yeah. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like it. Can’t say I’d ever have thought giant thumb would be frightening, either.”

“I almost envy you,” Elias murmurs. “Well. At least you know you will see many wonderful things here.”

“Wonderful?” Tim repeats. “Terrifying, you mean.”

Elias shrugs elegantly. “That, too.”

Among other things.

Elias’ eyes lidded. “Yes. Do you have some questions, your Lordship?”

“Oh, here we go,” says Tim, and settles in for the long haul.

My first is simple: the plan you mentioned. 

“Which one?” says Elias, and he actually means it.

“Oh, gods, what is my life become?” Tim mutters.

As I recall, said Hastur, and then quoted him: “ I may—theoretically—know of some deific flesh, carefully preserved in crystal. And I may—theoretically—know someone who could potentially use it to craft you a new body.”

Elias smiles. “Exquisite memory. This particular one is still in process.”

I’m a bit more concerned who you might know who could manage such a feat, since, from my understanding, that requires an avatar of the Flesh. Am I correct?

“Flesh?” says Tim. “Flesh. What, a meat god?”

You aren’t far off. 

“Ew?” says Tim, lip curling.

“I know a fairly talented individual who doesn’t… play the game,” says Elias. “He even refused to take part in the last major attempt at a ritual. He’d be willing for a price.”

And what, pray tell, protects me from being eaten by this humanitarian after the fact?

“ Cannibal flesh god,” says Tim.

“Rather. Well, two things: one, I intend a balancing influence.”

An opposing fear?

“Yes. It’s usually possible to corral them with appropriate staffing.”

And I suppose the opposing fear won’t attack me, either?

“I will see what else I can come up with to protect you, Lord of Carcosa,” says Elias. “Spiritual capsaicin, as it were.”

“Delicious protection?” says Tim.

“A substance which, moderately successfully, does deter most predation,” says Elias. “The beings who would eat you with it were going to eat you anyway.”

Tim makes a face. “Pragmatic, I guess?”

It would be appreciated.

“Lord of Carcosa,” says Elias. “I will do anything I can to prevent your vast knowledge and experience from being lost.”

Weirdly, Tim believes that. “Do… I need to go armed, or something?” he says.

“Well, that does bring up an interesting point. You are evidently a very powerful sorcerer,” says Elias.

There is a pause.

“Woooo,” says Tim, waggling his fingers.

“I haven’t seen anyone with natural magical ability in a very long time,” says Elias. “To be frank, I thought the trait had died out a few generations ago.”

Tim swallows. “You don’t know of another?”

“Not living, no. There are some memories trapped in things you could speak to, but not a proper tutor .”

“Great,” Tim mutters.

None of this is terribly reassuring, Elias.

“Yet here you are, still asking about it,” Elias says with another smile.

Of course I am. It’s the ideal scenario—should it work.

“I know! A body of your own, but not a human one! What might you accomplish?” says Elias, leaning forward.

"Bad touch," says Tim cheerfully, and is ignored.

That all depends on my next question, said Hastur. What do you know of the thing which followed me here? The eternal creature, the being beyond gods, who scrambled your Gertrude’s memories and so pursues me?

Elias’ eyes get wider and wider by the moment. “I know absolutely nothing. I cannot see it at all , though I see its prints; it has caused… a shift.”

“What?” says Tim. “What the hell do you mean, a shift?”

“In mood. In stability, both political and geological. Wars and rumors of wars, as the expression goes. So many small imbalances, changes within previously stable situations… yes. A shift.”

Tim stares. “Are you saying Devil Pants is causing wars?”

“I… what?” says Elias.

“He said he was getting the laughing beast on some booty shorts. Seemed like a better title than, I don’t know, his name,” says Tim.

Elias looks amazed. “How… bold.”

“It's not bold. I’m charming. He’s going to hit me with a truck for it. You’re missing the point, anyway. He’s causing wars?” says Tim.

“That was literary exaggeration, but not by much. What is happening is a destabilization . It’s all just a little off-kilter, slightly imbalanced. I have watched human affairs for a long time, Tim. Nothing I see now is… good,” says Elias.

“Because of Devil Pants,” says Tim, feeling really bad, “and that’s because of Hastur, and that’s because of me.”

Elias makes a graceful gesture. “Entirely accomplished in ignorance, without malicious intent.”

But it hadn’t been. In that moment, when he’d opened the book, he’d meant harm. “Not sure that’s good enough, new boss," Tim says.

“Are you asking for comfort?” says Elias. “Because that isn’t really what I do.”

“Just complaining,” Tim mutters bitterly. “Apparently, that’s my only outlet.”

If I were to give you the being’s proper name, says Hastur slowly, I wonder what you could discover?

There is a pause.

“I’d prefer not to draw the ire of a being that scares you ,” says Elias.

Yes, you would, says Hastur. Because your own terrified experience can feed your patron.

Elias actually shudders.

“Ooh, he’s got you there,” says Tim.

“That… is a point.” Elias sits back. “At least allow me to protect myself somewhat before you share that information.”

As you wish.

“You know what I’d like,” says Tim. “I want to know who killed my brother. I want them in jail.”

“Merely jail?” Elias says, neutral.

“Of course not merely jail,” snaps Tim, and is so surprised by his anger, surging out of him like lava, that he cannot stop it. “I want them to suffer. I want to burn their faces off. I want to hurt them . But that isn’t who I choose to be, so I will settle for court cases and orange jumpsuits.”

“Technically, most prisoners here wear ordinary clothes,” says Elias.

“Pedantic,” says Tim with a single finger-gun. “Also don’t care if they’re wearing a coconut bikini as long as it’s behind bars.”

Heh, heh, heh, says Hastur.

“Any other questions?”

None that require answers right at this moment.

“Same.” Tim rubs his face. “This is all moving awfully fast.”

“Welcome to the realm of gods and monsters,” says Elias, standing and offering his hand to shake. “Time simply doesn’t matter to them at all, much to our chagrin.”

“Fuck it,” says Tim, and shakes Elias Bouchard’s hand. “Guess I’m all-in.”

“It is unwise to attempt anything else. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to determine how best to use your talents.”

“Ominous!” Tim says, and heads for the door.

#

Well, says Hastur. I’d say we are doing the best we can with these circumstances.

“I’ve got a job,” says Tim, earpieces in place. “And I have zero assignments.”

That sounds dangerously like wishing not to be bored, says Hastur. That wish has never turned out well for anyone.

Tim snorts. “And what would you be doing, on your own?”

Being worshiped.

Tim’s eye-roll is so strong it nearly hurts.

Now, Hastur purrs. You’ve never been worshiped. You don’t know what you’re missing.

“Yeah, I’m okay with not having that experience?”

I think I could convince you otherwise, he says like warmed honey.

“Yeah, while we’re being creepy-flirty,” says Tim, “I had a weird dream while we were in the hospital, before I woke up in my body. You were—”

“Can I help you?” says a voice.

Tim turns to find a young woman looking at him, and immediately thinks, Oh no, she’s hot.

Her gaze is keen, unafraid. Her hair—long and curly—is tied back in a fetchingly messy way, and her small wire-rim glasses boost her right past sexy librarian and into smokin’ academic. 

She looks smart. Tim likes smart. “Hi,” he says. “New employee. Tim Stoker, at your service!” He offers his hand.

She shakes at once (firm, soft skin, short nails but buffed, ink stain along one palm because she writes a lot, oh no, she’s hot ). “Oh! You’re the one Elias texted me about. I’m Sasha James. I think I’m supposed to give you the grand tour.”

Tim gives her his absolute most charming smile. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot. Maybe I’ll treat you to lunch after.”  Hastur does not make a sound, but Tim can feel a sort of annoyed fondness in response to this. Well, Hastur doesn’t matter right now. “Ms. James, is it?”

“You can call me Sasha. If we’re working together, we’ll drop all the formality really quickly, believe me. Let’s start at the top, yeah? Do you mind stairs, or prefer an elevator?”

“Yeah,” he says happily, and realizes that made no sense. “Either’s fine. Stairs are good.”

“Great, because you’re going to be sitting all day,” she says, grinning at him over her shoulder. “Here we go! I like to think of this place as top-down reality.”

Oh, he’s in trouble. “Yeah? What’s that mean?”

“It means the stuff at the top is the least reliable. Snacks; pointless calories. Most of it is unprovable nonsense.”

Oh, he’s in trouble. “It gets better the deeper you go, eh?” says Tim.

“Yep. By the time you get to the archive, you’re dealing with actual, real stuff. Ah—I’m going to assume he warned you about Artefact Storage.”

Say yes. She'll like that.

Wingman Hastur? “He mentioned something, but said you’d explain more fully.”

Her expression is gloriously irreverent. “Thanks, Elias. Ugh.”

“That bad, is it?”

“It’s just a whole thing? Let’s start at the top and work our way down.”

I suspect you’d like to start at the top and work your way down, wouldn’t you? says Hastur.

Wingman Hastur. Tim covers his laugh with a cough. Shut up, you sex-dream-having hypocrite, he thinks, and follows her up the stairs.

#

By the time they reach Artefact Storage, Tim is well and truly besotted. He knows it; he’s pretty sure Sasha knows it. 

Hastur definitely knows it, and has been merciless. Get her number.

“You weren’t joking,” says Tim as they head toward Storage, both ignoring Gertrude’s glare. “We went from Bram Stoker’s Dracula to actual U.F.O.s.”

“Right? It’s nuts.” 

There are warning signs all around the door: signs meaning gloves required , and goggles required , and eye-wash station. Other signs saying things like, DO NOT ENTER UNACCOMPANIED, and SIGN IN AND OUT, and, worryingly, IS IT WORTH YOUR LIFE?

“Uh,” says Tim.

Sasha came prepared. She opens the little box beside the door and hands him a pair of gloves and a set of weirdly reflective safety goggles.

“Uh?” he says.

“It’s precaution,” she says, scribbling their names on a clipboard hung by the door. “There are some things in here that’ll affect you by touch or by sight.” And she is… watching him.

Watching for his response. To see if he believes.

He swallows. “So they are real. The things in here.”

“The things in here would make Mulder and Scully cream themselves,” says Sasha in a delightful tone, and opens the door.

Get her number.

Tim is definitely going to.

#

An hour later, he sits at a cafe table alone, and keeps forgetting to finish his overpriced crepe.

Tim.

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Another bite. It’s really yummy; some goat cheese thing, which he barely paid attention to when he ordered. Happily, it works cold.

Is your plan to stare into space the rest of the afternoon?

“She was hot, Hastur. You’re going to have to let a man fantasize a little,” says Tim, sipping some water.

Sasha had her lunch and got back to work a while ago. They laughed and spoke in geek the entire meal. Tim is happy to sit in her perfumed wake and maunder. “Her hair smells really nice.”

Tim.

“She’s so smart , Hastur. I could barely keep up with the repartee.”

Tim.

Tim considers his mostly-eaten crepe. “This was absolutely not worth eleven pounds.” He’s never been happier to finish an overpriced crepe.

Hastur sighs. Tim.

“What.”

This has been pleasant, and all, but we have work to do.

“We actually don’t,” Tim says, gesturing with his fork. “Not until Jon’s fixed up.”

We really do need to contact my cultists.

“Not doing that.” Tim finishes his water.

We do. Not only will they have resources to help you hone your power, but they also will be able to help you track down who killed your brother. They may already know.

Tim freezes, half-standing. “What.”

The book was stolen from them. I assure you, they’ve been hot on the trail.

“You mention this now?”

I mention this now.

Tim sighs and sits back down. “So you’re an asshole. Why didn’t you say this before?”

We’ve had a lot on our plate.

“I really don’t want to talk to cultists.”

I will talk to them. Tim, I haven’t forgotten that your brother took the book from some very bad people. They are still looking for it—and you. You aren’t safe.

Tim hadn’t really thought about it, but Hastur is right. They’d come looking in Danny’s stuff, he’s still pretty sure, after the funeral. in all the craziness he hadn't considered he might be the one hunted; and he steadfastly ignores the tiny part of him that hopes they come so he can burn them to death. “You’re thinking I need protection.”

Yes. More than we gained through the Archives.

Tim sighs. “Fuck me. How many threads do we have going now, anyway?”

Well, let’s go in order, shall we? Whoever stole the book from my people.

“And murdered my brother.”

Detective Tonner and her obsession with you.

“Ugh,” says Tim. “Yeah.”

Your magic—a genetic freak, which leaves you in a position of possibly doing harm without intent.

“Way to ratchet up the scare factor on that one,” says Tim.

The Outer God chasing me.

Tim swallows. “Devil Pants.”

Stop that. The dangers of a universe in which beings like me are eaten—and we have definitely caught some attention, especially since you took prey from one’s mouth.

“I am fucking never going to apologize for saving Jon, so you can just shove that one where the sun don’t shine.”

Fair. A potential body for me—

“Though at the cost of whatever Bouchard is doing with Jon, which I still haven’t figured out.”

And that odd chaplain who’s been staring at us for the past five minutes.

Tim startles. “What?”

You’ve been distracted. To your right, just behind.

“How…” Tim gets it. The reflection in the glass of the crepe shop. 

It just looks like a guy, except… not right. The glass must be old; it distorts him, sort of elongates and twists his face. His clerical collar is an unsettling white s, and his hands seem like they’re as long as the bloody table.

“Okay,” says Tim, adjusting his earbuds. “What?”

I don’t know. He hasn’t moved.

“Should we… should I just confront him? Get it over with?”

No. Get up and walk and see if he follows.

Tim’s phone dings. The text is from his contact saved as "Smokin' Smart:" Thanks for lunch! - S

He makes a happy little sigh.  Anytime, he responds.

Focus.

“Right, sure. Right.” Tim stands and starts walking, hands in his pocket, as nonchalant as he can manage.

He’s following.

“Of course he is.” Tim doesn’t rush. The guy is, he thinks, shorter than he is; that doesn’t make him less dangerous, but it leaves Tim feeling a touch more confident. The problem is, he can’t get a good look at the guy’s face. 

Every single reflection is distorted, and it’s annoying. “Maybe I should just turn and look at him. Can’t clock the guy if I don’t know what he looks like.”

I wouldn’t advise a confrontation. Something is very wrong here.

“Sure, but based on what?”

He moves… wrong.”

“Wrong.”

Wrong.

“That’s quite the description from a guy who’s thousands of years old,” Tim quips, turning a corner at regular speed. Then he ducks quickly into a flower shop and stands out of sight, peering through the window.

The man who walks by doesn’t look like anything. Just a man, middle-aged; receding hairline, clean-shaven. Even his clothing is just aggressively ordinary—a black outfit under a beige, unremarkable windbreaker. 

The man misses them and wanders right past the shop. “He’s moving normally,” Tim murmurs into his earpiece.

I’m telling you, something is very wrong with that person. 

“If this is some sort of thing about people who struggle with mental health—”

No. Tim, let’s go back to the Institute.

Tim is beginning to realize that Hastur is only afraid when things are about to hit the fan. Consistently, in fact. “Right. Let’s do that, then.”

#

It’s a good half-hour walk back to the Institute. In that time, several things happen.

One: police cars. A lot of them, heading back the way Tim came. They have sirens on.

Two: an ambulance follows, speeding down the narrow streets, which is concerning.

Three: Jon sends a text that says, We need to speak at once. I’ve had a strange visitor.

Four: Elias sends a text that says, I have your next assignment. I do hope you don’t mind prison.

Five: a woman is waiting for them on the steps of the Magnus Institute.

Tim doesn’t know her. She’s short, stocky, muscled; dressed in a plain white sleeveless tee, which seems odd for the cooler weather. And she is clearly waiting for him , smirking, arms crossed as he approaches, patient.

Between one blink and another, his vision of her changes.

She’s smoking, wisps of it rising all around her.

No, she’s not.

She’s actively on fire, flame licking along her arms and in her hair as if with love.

No, she’s not.

Tim stops to rub his eyes. 

The woman waits, and suddenly he knows she isn’t patient at all, and if he dallies, she’s going to try to hurt him.

Weird. Unpleasant. He approaches. And it’s as he comes within ten feet that he finally feels what she is.

Resonance. That is the word, and it is beautiful. If heat could respond to heat like sound between tuning forks, that would be this; because whatever is in them is the same , and Tim knows it shows on his face (the anger, the need, the ravening rage like desperate flame), and he stops just out of reach. 

She looks him up and down. “This is it? Really? Well. No accounting for taste, is there?”

He wants to burn her.

He wants to burn with her.

None of this is sexual. It’s like wanting to eat a person, but only if it hurts. “I’m… gonna go inside now,” he says, low and thick.

And feels Hastur… afraid. Trembling. Quiet.

“Not until you get your invitation,” says the woman, and holds out a letter, and her fingers have scorched it, left blackened ovals where it’s held. “Don’t spook too quickly, now. You’ll make me think you’re a virgin.”

He takes the letter because it is offered and he doesn’t know what to do. (Burn wants to burn wants to find things to burn ). “Go away?”

“Sure.” She shrugs. “Was just on my way elsewhere, anyway. Nice to meet you.” And she just walks off. Of course she does, because she knows, feels the same thing he did, recognized it (but she expected to , whereas he’s off-kilter).

He stares down at the letter in his hands in horror. “Why the fuck did I take this thing?”

Tim. Can we please go inside?

He wants to follow her (no he doesn’t). He wants to watch her burn things and burn them, too (no he doesn’t ). He won’t walk into the library feeling like this. It goes a bit beyond open ignition source when you yourself carry the fire.

Tim envisions coolness; pictures a bracing wind, the bite of snowflakes on his face. Pictures the feel of lying on his back in snow, making angels with Danny on a cold afternoon. The sound of nylon in the snow, the poke of ice crystals against his skin. Pictures dropping a lit match into a snowbank, the sizzle of it going out, the smell of sulfur dioxide. 

No, he thinks at the anger, at the weird, foreign rage that wants to claim him. Not yours. I refuse.

What the fuck did you do? Hastur cries.

The biting wind and snow on his face are quite real, and Tim opens his eyes to find himself in a blizzard.

A blizzard in February. In London.

“Oh, shit!” Tim cries, and runs up the stairs, slipping a little on built-up slush, and hurls himself through the door.

#

The weird storm lasted twenty minutes. It centered in Chelsea; caused numerous accidents, and made the news all across the world. When it was done, temperatures went right back to about 5 Celsius, well above freezing, and nobody knows what it means.

Tim sits in a small, dusty office he’d found on the second floor, door closed, really not wanting anyone to look at him for a bit.

On his phone, the news plays. They were speculating terrorism.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he moans. “How could I change weather pattern? That’s not… that’s not power , Hastur, that’s impossible. ”

I think you didn’t change weather, says Hastur. I think you opened some kind of portal to a place where that is the weather, and it spilled through.

“But I wasn’t picturing going anywhere!”

Were you picturing the steps of the Magnus Institute in Chelsea?

“No,” Tim moaned. “I was picturing the back yard where I grew up. That doesn't explain this. Fuck. Would… you really think your cultists have resources that could fix this? I don’t even know what I just did.”

Yes. They do. I promise you, they do—for thousands of years, they’ve raised my vessels to hone and control their magic, so when they were given to me, the neurological patterns would already be trained.

“So you’re saying… wait one fucking minute. You’ve never trained yourself for magic at all, have you?” Tim accuses.

There isn’t really much of a hesitation. I never had to.

“Oh, for the love of hell! And I’ve been taking your advice!”

Tim groans. “Fuck us, I guess. We’re a mess.”

Outside, more sirens. 

We’re not a mess. We’re both dealing with a new situation.

“Sure. We're both idiots. Good to know." Tim sighs.

Hastur sighs. 

Tim looks at the letter, which is now damp as well as burned. All it has is an address in Sheffield, some three plus hours north. He swallows. Checks his phone.

No new messages, but Tim feels… pressured. He needs to answer Jon. He needs to answer Elias. He doesn’t want to do either.

You’re all right, Tim.

“Sure.”

Tim’s left hand hasn’t moved all day on its own; Hastur has been good, if not respectful, but now it does. It rises—slowly, as not to startle—and cups Tim’s face. You’re all right, Tim.

“Weird, right?” says Tim softly. “I’ve got a guy sharing my body , but I really feel alone right now.”

I understand. The thumb caresses his cheekbone. You’re all right.

So stupid, that hearing that helps. Tim sighs. “If you say so. Which avenue do we take? Jon? Elias? This address? Your cultists?”

Contact my people first. Then, so you aren’t distracted, let’s go visit Jon.

“Leave Elias on 'read,' eh?”

He can handle it. He’s doing this to watch all the drama, anyway. I’m sure we’re making his day.

Tim laughs. “I can get behind that. All right.” He texts Jon: On my way.   Stands like an old man, creaky and tired. Heads back out the door. And really, really hopes that when all this washes out and is over and done, he gets to take Sasha out for lunch more often, because she was the one really good thing to happened all day long.

#tim stoker #hastur malevolent #tma fic #malevolent fic #tma crossover #malevolent crossover #tma x malevolent #malevolent x tma #corrupted fic