#(I have opinions on time lord names but that’s besides the point)

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

I really think the best way to consume doctor who extended universe media (especially the books) is to treat it as officially licensed fan fiction. Like sure they have the rights to use these characters, but also there’s a very high likelihood that none of this will come up in the show so if you don’t agree you can just call it not canon and move on

[agaypanic]

I saw that you are writing about Roderick Heffley.

Can I make a request about Rodrick Heffley/reader (punk grunge girl)?

The reader has been friends with Rodrick for a year, she has her own band and she often hangs out with Rodrick.The reader writes songs for the band and when I realized that I fell in love with Rodrick, I wrote an entire album in his honor.(but since the reader replaced male pronouns with female pronouns in the songs, Rodrik did not understand about falling in love.)

You can make an awkward but sweet confession at the end.(like Roderick only got it when his friend told him directly about it, or when the reader was leaving town...)

I apologize if this is too specific and detailed. And I also ask you to forgive me if something is unclear, English is not my native language.

My Muse (Rodrick Heffley X Songwriter!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Inspiration for new songs strike you when you realize you’ve fallen in love with your friend Rodrick Heffley. But when you get the guts to play him a song as a way of confessing and he doesn’t understand, you figure it’s a lost cause.

A/N: reader is more of a pop-punk artist, and she wrote the only exception by paramore bc i said so. Idk much about instruments/terminology and also writing a character singing feels so awkward to me so sorry if it’s bad. Reader’s band is named after the one in metal lords (such a good movie ugh)

***

You and Rodrick had been friends for years, bonding over a shared love of music. As the two of you got older, you ventured into this interest by forming your own bands. Rodrick’s band, Löded Diper, was more rock, while yours, SkullFlower, followed more of a pop-punk genre. But that didn’t stop you and Rodrick from jamming and writing together during your free time.

With all the time you spend with Rodrick, you soon realized that your feelings for him grew beyond platonic, as cliche as it sounded. You obviously didn’t want to say anything and risk ruining what you had with him.

But you couldn’t help but have hope that Rodrick returned your feelings. No matter how many crushes he had, how distracted he became with his band’s latest business venture, or how often he got grounded to the point of not being allowed to leave the house for anything besides school, he always found his way to you. Sure, your heart ached a bit to see him so hung up over a girl who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But it was always made better when he’d sneak through your window just to sit with you when he should’ve been at home.

You didn’t want to bottle up your feelings forever, so you decided to write it all down in the form of lyrics. What started as a verse and half of a chorus soon became a complete song. And then one song turned into a handful. When you showed your bandmates, they immediately wanted to get to work on the instrumentals.

After a few long rehearsals and some convincing from the rest of the band, you decided to let Rodrick hear what you had been working on—half for his opinion and half as a love confession to your best friend.

“So…” As you walked to class with Rodrick, you kept having to tell yourself not to feel so anxious. Just think of it as just another band practice, and not you telling your best friend that you’re in love with him. “SkullFlower’s having a little rehearsal tonight. I think we’ve gotten a new song down pretty good. Did you wanna come?”

“Hell yeah!” Rodrick responded, seeming more pumped up than before you had asked. “What time were you thinking?”

“Probably around five. It’ll be at Steph’s place, since she has the best set up.”

The two of you stopped in front of your class, standing a bit to the side of the door to not block anyone’s path. 

“I’ll be there,” Rodrick said with a grin, patting your shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “See you then.” Then he turned around and left to go to his own class, leaving you to walk in alone. As you sat down in your seat, the only thing on your mind was how you hoped everything would go right tonight.

***

It was a pretty common occurrence for you and Rodrick to be at each other’s band rehearsals. So, none of your friends were surprised to see him pull up in his somewhat busted van while you tuned instruments and set up equipment. He jogged up the driveway with a grin and two slushies, one for him and one for you. Another common thing between you two was showing up with some kind of sweet treat just for the two of you.

“Hey guys!” Rodrick greeted everyone in Steph’s garage before handing you a large slushie cup filled with your favorite flavors. “Hey, rockstar.”

“Hi, Roddy.” You said, blushing at the little nickname before sipping your drink. You averted your gaze to somewhere else in the room, so you missed the slight pink on Rodrick’s cheeks from the nickname only you were allowed to use.

After a few minutes of mingling, you and the band got ready to play while Rodrick settled in a lawn chair. He sat directly in front of you, so you felt you had no choice but to look at him while fiddling with the microphone stand.

“This one took, like, a day to write,” you warned, taking a final sip of your slushie before setting it on the floor next to you. “It’s a little softer than the stuff we usually play, but I think it’s pretty good. But I wrote it, so I’m a bit biased.” 

“Everything you write is good, Y/n.” Rodrick tipped his slushie cup towards you. “Lemme hear it.”

You nodded and turned to Hailey. She started strumming on her guitar as Steph accompanied her on the keyboard. You swayed along to the music with closed eyes, internally counting down to your cue. 

Rodrick had probably heard you sing a million times, you’d probably sung more around him than you did alone. But your nerves made it feel like you were performing in front of a sold-out stadium for the first time, instead of in your friend’s practically empty garage.

“I’d never sing of love if it does not exist.” You plucked up the courage to finally look at Rodrick, who was already watching you with a smile so small you almost couldn’t see it. “But darling, you are the only exception.”

You didn’t know if it was the fear of knowing you were confessing your feelings to Rodrick or the bravery from opening your eyes and looking at him in the first place. But for the rest of the song, you and Rodrick maintained eye contact, making it feel like you were the only ones in the room. You wondered if he knew that the words were written just for him. 

As Hailey played the final chord of the song, letting it ring out, you gripped the microphone a bit nervously. At first, you thought the hard part was finally over. But then you remembered that Rodrick’s reaction was to follow.

“So… what’d you think?” Everyone eagerly awaited Rodrick’s response. Your friends knew about how deep your feelings went for him. And although they’d sometimes make fun of you for it, they were truly rooting for the two of you.

“That was awesome!” Rodrick said, throwing his arms out wide to emphasize his statement. You grinned, bouncing slightly on the balls of your feet in excitement. “Whoever you wrote that for is lucky, dude.”

And in an instant, all that excitement and hope diminished. 

“Oh.” You let out a small sigh before clearing your throat. “Oh, yeah, they are. They are lucky.” You could practically feel the pitiful stares of your bandmates. That, accompanied by Rodrick’s now slightly perplexed expression, made you feel uneasy. “Um, I’ll be right back.”

You were out in a flash, running into the house and to the bathroom to hide. Your band watched you disappear before looking back at Rodrick, whose eyes were stuck on the door you had gone through.

“Wow.” Dylan was the first to speak, looking at Rodrick with a raised brow and crossed arms. “I know you’re kinda dumb, Heffley, but this might be a new low.”

“Excuse me?” Rodrick quickly rose from his seat, looking at Dylan, offended and confused.

“Oh, come on, Rodrick. Don’t play stupid.” Hailey said as she set down her guitar. “Who do you think Y/n wrote that song about?”

Rodrick thought about the question for a moment, wracking his brain for an answer but coming up with nothing. He shrugged, hoping that one of your friends would just tell him outright what was going on.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Dylan said. “She only invited one person to this band practice, and she only wanted to play that specific song.”

The look on Rodrick’s face was starting to make your friends wonder if you were better off without him knowing about your feelings. But suddenly, he gasped in realization, looking at each of your friends for confirmation of what he was thinking. When they all nodded, relieved that he was finally starting to understand, he grabbed your slushie from the floor, muttering something about being back in a minute. 

In the bathroom, you were trying not to have a total freak out. You wondered how you could play this off. Although Rodrick wasn’t the brightest, he could be observant and stubborn when he wanted to be. He’d probably ask what was wrong, and if you could convince him that everything was fine, he would probably start asking who you wrote that love song about.

After splashing some water on your face to calm yourself down, you opened the door, only to see Rodrick standing on the other side.

“Jesus!” You jumped in surprise.

“Sorry.” Rodrick laughed nervously. “You, um, you forgot your slushie.”

“Oh, thanks.”

You fell into an awkward silence, standing in the threshold of your friend’s bathroom and slurping down your drink so you wouldn’t have to speak. Eventually, both of you were out of slushies.

“Was that song about me?” Rodrick blurted out, tilting his head in curiosity. You blinked, not expecting that to be the question he would ask. It seemed like he already knew it was.

“That depends,” you said, toying with your straw as you looked down at the ground to avoid eye contact. “Would you still like it if it was?”

Your attention was pulled from your shoes by a hand lifting your head, forcing you to look up at Rodrick. He leaned in to kiss you, just for a quick second, as if he was scared of you freaking out. But you were left in a daze as he pulled back.

“I’d like it a lot more if it was.”

Overwhelmed by what had just happened, you flung your arms around Rodrick and kissed him again. He stumbled back a step but caught you by the waist, kissing back eagerly. The world around you seemed to disappear.

“Ahem.” Slowly and reluctantly, you and Rodrick pulled away from each other to see Steph looking at you amused, Hailey and Dylan standing behind her. “Mom made us all a snack, unless you guys are too busy sucking face.”

“Oh, shut up, Steph.” You said with an embarrassed laugh. Your friends headed to the kitchen, but you and Rodrick slowly trailed behind to sneak a few more kisses to each other.

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit

[anikasheep]

YOUR CATLIKE SHEEP wants your attention The Almighty Three (Lucifer/Diavolo/Solomon)

warnings: mc as your name, fluffy and kissing, don't like don't read

REBLOG AND LEAVE COMMENTS ARE WELCOME!!

COMMON

Today you decide to be alone with him! With your homework, the book you want to read, headphones, charging cable, and DDD, you ask for his permission and enter his room.

Time passes slowly as you write, finish your homework, and read the books you want to read, today’s Devildom is a bit boring, then you look at him on the other desk with a frown on your face.

He doesn’t realize you're looking at him, or even if he does, he doesn't care. He continues to be immersed in the paper in front of him and in his own inner world.

However, you are too bored, so you pick up your headphones and DDD, and come to his seat…

Lucifer

“Lucifer.” You whisper his name.

He gives you a confused glance. The moment he saw you, those irritations and unpleasing seemed to melt. His shoulders relaxed a bit, and his eyebrows didn’t knit together anymore.

“Hmh? What’s wrong, MC? Do you need something?”

You shake your head, and point at his lap.

“Could I lay on your lap, please? I want to be close to you.”

Lucifer raises his eyebrows, and then he slowly nods his head.

“I didn’t expect that you’re that bold, but I don’t have any intention or reason to say no, am I?”

He pats his left thigh, his voice is low and full of seducing and musing.

“Now come here, if my sheep want some attention, who am I to say no to them?”

Be careful, MC. You would get his hand without gloves to keep stroking your hair from time to time.

Lucifer might ask about your opinions so you’re actually the one who needs to pay attention.

He would hum some melody only you two could hear, and those melodies might lull you to sleep.

If you fall asleep, his coat will shelter you, this would make him feel like you’re under his wings, and there’s nothing that would make him feel more satisfied.

Maybe his other brothers would try to sneak into his room, but he’s set a whole spell already so that wouldn’t be that easy. He won’t let his brothers interrupt his time with his sweet little lamb.

Diavolo

He raised his head up before you called his name. The tired smile almost paused you to ask the request you’ve had for a while.

“Aaahh, MC. Can I do anything for you?”

You nod and point at his lap, while you ask him the favor.

“Can I… accompany you like this? I’m too bored and kind of miss you.”

You are both shocked by your blurry, you swear that you saw Diavolo’s pupils turn thinner for a moment but return to normal after you blink your eyes.

He shows you his hearty laugh once again, and then he leans his back onto the back of the chair.

You shift your feet to the other one when he just smiles.

But you feel yourself pulled to a warm and firm chest in the next moment.

The vibrations of his chuckles send to your heart and spread to the whole body.

“My my, look who I’ve found myself. A pure and totally innocent sheep who doesn’t know what they just said to A DEMON.”

Diavolo rests his cheek on the crown of your hair, his left arm engulfs your waist, and his thumb starts stroking the delicate skin through your clothes.

“…Lord Diavolo?” You nibble your lips to attract the urge to wiggle out of his grasp and giggle cause of the tickle feelings.

“I won’t let you feel bored, MC. However, I still have some papers that need me right now.”

Diavolo nuzzles his cheek on your head again, he grins when you move to a comfortable position on his lap, your arms around his neck, your plump lips brushing over his jaw making him shrink and growl lowly.

“Tempt me more, MC. The dance would continue until tomorrow… I assure you.”

Solomon

This sorcerer is too focused on his study to notice you, so you sit beside him simply, find the perfect timing, and lay your head on his lap.

His surprised eyes glanced down at your pouty face and chuckled.

“Are you a cat, MC? Need your teacher’s attention that badly?” His teases didn’t stop the blushing on his face.

“I’m not a cat, but I still want your attention. But don’t mind me, just give me a kiss and keep working.”

He mumbles something before he shares a soft kiss with you.

“So bossy, my apprentice is a boss cat is not what I could expect, but I love them anyway.” ”Heard that and I love you too, my not-a-sheep-but-more-like-a-demon teacher.”

“Heehee, oops. But I’m hurt that you call me not a sheep, now let me attack you by kissing you more.”

“Solomon, aren’t you should finish your report.. umph…”

[miwhotep]

MILVERTON AND HIS NEWSPAPERS

I was wandering a lot about Milverton and his newspapers recently - as the so-called King of Media, he owned several newspapers as Watson also pointed out, probably almost all newspapers in London to gain as much control as he could to manipulate the public opinion. Here, I list the papers (and other media outlets) what got named throughout the series and most likely were connected to him.

First, there was the Heim News Agency what was most likely owned by Milverton. News agencies exist to collect information and to sell it to other media outlets, like newspapers. One of Milverton's newspapers (The Daily Londner) is shown to be edited in that building and the newspaper's editor-in-chief referred to Milverton as the chairman so he logically owned the Heim News Agency and published the made-up truth from the collected information in a way what fit for manipulating the different audiences of the different newspapers.

The Daily Londner was aimed at nobles, as it is mentioned in the manga. That newspaper was supported by the House of Lords, but probably the other reason why its news were written seemingly to please the nobility was also for manipulating them between the lines.

The other newspaper Milverton owned was The Daily Standard. Unlike The Daily Londner's case, it is not explicitly said that The Daily Standard was his - but it was the newspaper what kept showing up during the Jack the Ripper arc where Milverton manipulated the public opinion with the media about the murders and we can also see it right after he explains why he didn't mind to change the already arranged news from Whiteley being a murderer to the Lord of Crime (and interesting to mention that musical-wise, he is shown with the Daily Standard in his hands several times) - so we can suspect that the Daily Standard indeed belonged to him. This newspaper was sold on the street and it was shown to read by commoners (aside from the Moriarties who also read this paper), so the Daily Standard targeted the middle class as an audience.

During the Phantom Arc, we can see in the Daily Standard several times that the Jack the Ripper letter got sent to Central News - just like in reality. Historically, the Central News was infamous for its dubious news so it is fitting to be owned by Milverton in the Yuumori universe. Since he was the one who arranged the entire media manipulation around Jack the Ripper's character - as the revolutionalists hired him - that letter needed to get sent to one of his newspapers, therefore Central News also belonged to him. Since the goal was to create chaos in Whitechapel among the lower class and the letter was sent for that end, which means that the Central News was aimed at the lower class.

This way, Milverton was able to manipulate all social classes through the different newspapers - and not just in London. The Heim News Agency was shown to be the publisher of Britain's major papers and in the anime, we can see other cities named on Milverton's newspaper beside London - other places where they sold the paper - so his media manipulation was present throughout Great Britain.

And not just Great Britain! In the Merchant arc, it is mentioned that he has a branch firm in New York as well - so Milverton's media power was even in the United States!

While I mainly listed newspapers here - but it's good to note that Milverton also owned advertising companies even that those didn't get mentioned in the series further. But marketing is a good tool for manipulation as well, I would have been interested what type of advertisements he made.

[wormwrites]

I just can't get the idea of soulmate!jason where you share scars out of my head. Jason is a canvas of scars. We all find them beautiful and wouldn't judge him even if we were held at gun point. But imagine you were getting those scars at the same time he was... it would be hard. Of course you are worried about your soulmate, but when you wake up with a permanent, very purposeful J branded onto your face, can you really tell me you wouldn't be embarrassed to go outside? Afraid of meeting your soulmate who seems to be either a criminal or in a very dangerous victim situation? Would you not be even a little angry that now your face is ruined? (I know there is makeup, but we are ignoring that for a second) Yes, you share these scars with your soulmate and somewhere along the line you'd find peace with them. But in the moment when you look in the mirror and find an autopsy scar... I can only imagine what you would feel. Oh, and poor Jason. He would never be able to forgive himself. He probably wouldn't even realize he has a soulmate because if you get a scar he wouldn't notice it beside all of his. This isn't a request. I just wanted to share my thoughts and hear yours. I'm asking a few different creators so feel free to ask for another person's opinion as well!

oh my god, anon, ur brain!!! i’m sure this is messy but 1: i love requests and 2: i just started typing most of this late last night

((i also saw a few other respond to this but i purposely didnt read them so if anything is similar its witchcraft or smthing idk))

i think the smaller robin scars sort of annoy you, when you’re younger. you don’t see how the trade off of your small acne scars is fair to these constant random but mostly well healed ones scars are. you have a running joke with your closest friends about how you have a lecture for your soulmate whenever you meet them.

you’re a dumb kid, teenager at best, but when you wake up one morning, dozen of burn scars, scars of a deep beating, and a harsh ‘j’ plastered on your face, you have a breakdown for both of you. so scared for whatever your soulmates been through, when, a day or so later, autopsy scars appear, you go numb. you aren’t an idiot, you know what those scars are from.

you’ve never heard of scars from a soulmate post death, but you don’t know what else they could mean, and no more scars show up after that.

how do you deal with being so young knowing you had a soulmate who had a hard life cut short, and now you’re doomed to be alone forever? maybe you go numb, just float through life, dissociating. or maybe you devote yourself to your studies, maybe you work to help kids in tough situations like your almost love. maybe somewhere in between.

i think if you live in gotham, you have a small feeling why there was a j, i think maybe you learn some makeup skills, use things like cosmetic wax and a precise foundation routine to cover it, you can’t afford the fancy kind of plastic surgeons who specialize in soulmate scars.

you think you’re done, accept this is your life.

then years later, more scars start appearing? precise, dangerous scars? given only the bare minimum medical care? you think you must be broken. you start spending even more time with your therapist, maybe start researching even more.

one of these late nights at the library you’re walking home in gotham, you’d lost track of time but the sweet redheaded librarian named barbara reminded you to leave before it got too too late, still, you live in a rough part of town, and batman’s been busy lately with this new crime lord, you don’t care either way, too trapped in your own world of hurt and confusion, you don’t even realize what you’d walked into.

jason never gave much thought to his soulmate, he’d never even noticed any scars, thought maybe he didn’t even have one. definitely didn’t have one after his death.

he’d stalking after batman one night, both are aware the other one knows, but they arent confronting each other tonight, and when they turn onto a certain street he gets an odd feeling and he suddenly finds himself in front of of you,

and hes speechless, his world crashing down so quickly, because all he can see is the ‘j’ on your your face.

jason never gave much thought to his soulmate, and now he literally walked face first into them, and nothing is the same for either of you from there on out.

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hi! Can i ask a request for Aemond, where him and reader have a little daughter and after Lucerys death Daemon sends cheese and blood to kill the baby but in the end they fail, pure comfort/protective Aemond in the end with him being relieved but scared and not wanting to keep his eye off of his daughter

Lucky, Indeed

Request: Hi! Can i ask a request for Aemond, where him and reader have a little daughter and after Lucerys death Daemon sends cheese and blood to kill the baby but in the end they fail, pure comfort/protective Aemond in the end with him being relieved but scared and not wanting to keep his eye off of his daughter

Hi! Sorry it took me a bit to get to this request, thank you for sending it in. I love this idea. I’m team Black, but I love a good angst story, and I love Aemond, so it works out. Honestly, it’s hard to even pick a side, when something as terrible as Blood and Cheese happened. Anyway, that’s beside the point. This is my first Aemond request in a while, so hopefully it isn’t too rusty. I hope you like it, enjoy!

Also, for anyone who wants a full length Aemond fic, I have an Aemond x OC (Aelora Velaryon) that is currently a prologue and six chapters long, about 23K words currently. It’s loosely based off of my fic I wrote for Aemond called Doomsday, which you can find on my masterlist. You also can find the fic that’s in progress there, it’s called We’re Burned For Better. It’s on here, wattpad, and ao3, for anyone who wants to read it on their preferred platform. There’s more info about it on my masterlist if you’re interested!

(Warnings: swearing, blood and cheese, mentions of gore, blood, vague mentions of assault, violence, death, grief, trauma, let me know if i missed anything)

—

After Aegon had been crowned King, Aemond was instructed to give word to the key Lords of the realm, asking that they bend the knee in return for the right price being paid for their fealty. You, being married to Aemond, had to stand by his side as his wife. You couldn’t object, or voice your opinions. 

You had to hold your tongue, while the realm waited to see what the fate of House Targaryen would be. 

That is not to say you entirely approved of the actions the Green’s committed after the death of King Viserys. But it was not your House to meddle in, nor your right to do so. You instead had to wait for your husband’s return, praying that he’d come back with good news. 

When Aemond left on Vhagar to treat with Lord Borros Baratheon, your daughter had just turned two. You were left behind with her, little Saera, who had been named after her predecessor. 

It is said that the former’s first word was “no,” which amused Aemond to no end. She was said to be clever, spirited, and fierce, yet neglected by her parents. The Maester’s recorded that because she was the ninth born child, her siblings came at a higher priority to the King and Queen. 

A feeling Aemond was not unaccustomed to, he himself having been born the second son to King Viserys, who had hoped and prayed for his first boy. By the time Aemond came, the excitement and magic of finally having a son had worn off. 

Knowing all too well what it was like to feel unwanted by your parents, Aemond decreed the day Saera was born that she would never know the feeling. She’d only know love and attentiveness, things you and Aemond were happy enough to give her. Aemond had been worried about becoming a father, that was clear enough to you during your pregnancy. But his worries faded away when he caught his first glimpse of her, his heart swelling at the sight. 

The two had become inseparable since then. 

You often had to come fetch her out of her father’s lap during meetings, scolding him when you’d find the pair of them mucking about in the courtyard, Saera resting atop his shoulders. Where he went, she followed. It was quite a sight to see. The mighty Aemond Targaryen…stone faced and stoic…with a little girl barely out of cloth diapers, teetering behind him as she giggled, following along.

Aemond had never spent more than a few days away from Saera, nor you, since the time you delivered her. Now, he had been charged with a task by his King and the Hand, one of which he had to obey and follow. 

It has been days since he bid you both goodbye, and you anxiously awaited his return.

Knowing Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon, they would never forfeit the crown. Not after the events that led to Aegon being crowned in the first place. They would never bend the knee, especially to a believed to be usurper. 

While Daemon may be quick to anger, however, you knew that Rhaenyra was not. She would act in the interest of the realm, not on her own ambition. It was a shame she had the throne stolen out from under her. 

She’d make for a good Queen. 

For now, you had to wait, and hope, and pray that the rift between the family was somehow mendable. That the war would somehow be over before it started, and no lives would be lost. It was foolish hopes, you knew. 

You understood just how naive you’d been, the day Aemond returned from Storm’s End. 

Vhagar had been spotted in the skies, and Ser Criston had sent word to you, giving you little time to prepare. A handmaiden had just come to take Saera for her bath, leaving you alone to pace back and forth in your chambers. Before long, the door was flung open, and your husband burst in. 

Aemond looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and was certainly as pale as one. 

He reached for you with shaky hands, wide eyed, and you quickly moved to his side. You gripped his hands in yours, making him look you in the eye. 

“What is it? What has happened?”

Aemond looked like he was going to be sick, and he fell to his knees. You looked down at him in shock, quickly dropping to your knees, scrambling to keep him steady. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. You hurriedly batted his hands away from his eyes, cradling his face in your palms. 

“Aemond? What has happened, you must tell me.”

He looked at you in despair, shaking his head. 

“Lucerys is dead.”

You gasped, pulling your hands away from his face to steady yourself, lowering yourself all the way to the floor. 

“What?”

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead,” he confirmed, putting a permanent pit in your stomach. “Vhagar killed him.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “That can’t be. Aemond, tell me that this is nothing but a cruel joke.”

“It isn’t, Y/N. I couldn’t stop her. Vhagar went after Arrax, she wouldn’t listen to me. Lucerys is gone.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, willing yourself not to be sick. You shakily stood, clutching your hands to your stomach. “Aemond, I can’t…”

Oh Gods, you thought. Rhaenyra. She was probably mad with grief, the poor girl.

He stood up and held onto your forearms, keeping you still. “It will be alright.”

“It won't!” You countered, fighting the tears welling in your eyes. “Luke is a child. Rhaenyra’s child. Her baby boy is dead, she’ll have our heads for this!”

“She won’t–”

“You can’t promise that! Do you truly think there will be no consequences for the death of one of her children? If it were the other way around, if they were the cause of Saera’s death, or one of Helaena’s children…would we not retaliate? Daemon is by her side, Aemond. He won’t let this go, that I can promise you.”

Aemond brought you into his arms, cradling your head into his chest. “I’ll keep you and Saera safe. That, I can promise you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“We have to tell your mother and Aegon,” you said softly, muffled into his shoulder. 

You wrapped your arms tight around his waist, clinging to your husband. Maybe, you thought, if you shielded your eyes in his chest, he’d be able to shield you from whatever may come that would harm you. 

You felt him nod. 

“We will.”

—

In the days that followed, you walked on eggshells around the Keep. You worried for you and your family, as well as Helaena and her children. You worried for the people of King’s Landing, who were not equipped for a siege. The city was on high alert, preparing for the imminent war. 

You half expected Rhaenyra to come on dragonback herself, burning the city down in a fiery rage that would consume you all.

But she didn’t.

You spent days on edge, waiting for her first attack. The ships that docked were showing up with less and less imports, which meant she was planning to cut off some of your supplies. But that was the only retaliation she sent your way. No consequences for the death of her son were met by her justice. You waited anxiously for the day Rhaenyra would return to collect her debt of the life you now owed her. 

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. There was no sign of the Black’s or their army, except for one letter Aegon received from Dragonstone a month after the death of Lucerys. It read,

“Lucerys Velaryon will be avenged. You owe My Queen a debt. I will see to it that it is paid in full. Count your days, and live them well…the next may be your last.” – Daemon Targaryen

When Aegon called you, his family, and the war council to the Throne Room to read it aloud, you had to excuse yourself. You hurried out of the room, barely making it into a side corridor before retching onto the floor. A handmaiden had followed you out, leaving your side before returning momentarily with Aemond hot on her heels. 

“Come, my love,” he said, securing his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you to our chambers, hmm?”

That night, you didn’t let Aemond or Saera out of your sight. The rest of the family did the same, keeping themselves heavily guarded and close together. 

But within the month, nothing had changed. No one had come. More ships arrived in volume to the harbor in the same month, and it seemed as if Rhaenyra had pulled back her fleet from stopping the supply chain. Another month passed, and nothing happened. The city slowly went back to normal, the ports as well.

You weren’t sure how, but you and the family slowly forgot about the events of the previous months. It was always looming in the back of your minds, that was true enough. But it was no longer your main concern, as you all had begun busying yourselves with other tasks. 

It was almost pleasant, spending so much time with Aemond and your daughter every day. The city was still warm, it had yet to succumb to the cold of winter. If you tried hard enough, you could keep yourself from thinking of the real reason why you had been given this time with your family.

But sure enough, your luck ended. 

At the time, you didn’t know who the assassins were. You had come to know in the days that followed. Their aliases were all that was known about the two men, except for their occupations.

Blood was a butcher. He was once a member of the City Watch, but he lost his gold cloak for beating a woman employed by a pleasure house to death while drunk and rageful. Cheese was a ratcatcher, extremely knowledgeable of the hidden tunnels of the Red Keep. They were employed by Mysaria, the White Worm, who was employed by Daemon. 

A promise was a promise, and the Black’s had promised you a death. In the last quarter of the fourth month after Lucerys’s death, Blood and Cheese had come to collect.

It was near dusk, and Aemond was still in a meeting. He had been given more duties upon Aegon’s coronation, and he tended to get caught running late into the evenings with the council. 

It was of no consequence to you. He had spent all day with you and Saera, like he did most days. A few days here and there that he was a little late returning to your chambers in the evening, it was the price you were willing to pay to get him all to yourselves during the day.

You were well occupied as well, bouncing Saera on your hip while walking around your room, trying to tire her out so that she’d sleep through the night.

When she finally calmed, you placed her down in her cradle. She immediately curled up under her covers, making you smile. You walked around the room, closing all the shutters and blowing out all of the candles, before heading to the connecting room to change into your evening clothes.

You undressed and redressed quickly, feeling quite tired yourself. 

When you stepped back into the room, the shutter that you had just closed was open. Confused, you walked over to peer out the window, before reshuttering it again. You figured the wind had blown it open. It was nearing winter, after all.

Still, it chilled the room. 

You decided to inform the guard posted outside your door, who would pass on the information in the morning to someone who could come and fix it. You sighed, walking over to your chamber door and quietly opening it. 

“Ser, if you could–”

The words died on your tongue as you looked down in horror to see your guard crumpled on the floor, his neck snapped.

You opened your mouth to scream, but it was quickly covered by a large hand, one that hastily pulled you back into your room.

“Make a sound and I slit your throat. Don’t test me,” you heard in your ear, making you shakily nod.

You heard the door latch behind you, and felt a blade placed at the base of your throat. A man, seemingly much smaller than the one holding you captive, rushed over to Saera’s cradle, picking her up. 

“No, please–”

“Shut your mouth. Another word before we speak and you’ll face a fate much worse than death. Scream for help, and I promise that your daughter will be dead before anyone can even reach the door.”

Tears sprung in your eyes as you watched the man cradle your daughter, who had yet to wake up. You kept your voices low. 

“I’m Blood,” the man said into your ear, letting you go but keeping the knife pointed at you as he blocked the door. “That’s Cheese.”

“Why are you here?”

Blood smiled, his grin making your stomach turn. “We’re debt collectors. An eye for an eye, a son for a son…or a daughter, in your case. It’s a shame, I can tell she’d turn out to be quite the beauty.”

Cheese nodded, placing Saera back down in her crib. 

“We only want the one, to square things. Unfortunately for you, your husband has been quite naughty. Queen Helaena wasn’t in her chambers with her wee ones…but you were. There’s a price to be paid, and you’ll have to be the one to pay it. We won't hurt you, Milady, not one little hair on your head. Just as long as you cooperate.”

You let out a sob, pleading with them. “Please, just take me! Take me, kill me, do whatever you want, I don’t care. Just let my daughter go.”

“As tempting as that is,” Cheese said, looking you up and down. “We can’t.”

“We have a job to do, Princess. You owe a life,” Blood continued.

You shook your head, crumbling to your knees. “No, please, take me–”

“No can do–”

“Please!” You screamed, sobbing on the floor. 

Blood rushed over to you, pulling you up by your hair. He brought his hand up, backhanding you across the face. You could feel your lip split as his knuckles struck. He placed the blade back on your throat and held you tight to him.

“Another little outburst like that, and I’ll let Cheese here do whatever he wants with you, and then make you kill the girl yourself.”

You closed your eyes tight, bringing your hand to your mouth to stifle another sob. Your heart was aching, and a pit the size of a boulder had settled in your stomach. What would Aemond think? Returning to his chambers only to find his wife in hysterics, and his baby girl, slain in her crib.

“I’ll make it quick, darling, just for you. I’ll even do it in her crib, so she doesn’t have to wake up and see a stranger. She won’t feel a thing,” Cheese said, feigning sympathy.

Suddenly, you remembered. 

“Can I go and say goodbye to her?” You asked, pleading with them to allow you to. “She’s my only child. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t at least ask.”

Please say yes, you thought. Please say yes.

In all your worrying over the past few months, and Aemond’s continued absence in the evenings, you had come up with your own ways to make yourself feel safe. This included training with Aemond during the day in hand to hand combat, just in case you ever had to defend yourself. It included putting Saera to bed yourself every night, shuttering all the windows, and checking on the guard posted at your door nightly.

It also included strapping a knife in its sheath to the underside of Saera’s crib, out of her reach but easily within your own, if you could get close enough. 

The two men pondered the request for a moment, before finally nodding. 

You felt relief pouring through you, and could have collapsed with elation if it weren’t for the task at hand. You rushed over to her crib, kneeling down over it. She was awake now, peering up at you with big violet eyes. 

You blinked the tears away, softly caressing her cheek. “Go to sleep, my sweet girl. I love you.”

You covered her with her blankets, kneeling further to tuck the sheets in. Blood and Cheese watched as you said your goodbyes, grinning at each other. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Cheese said, moving to come get you.

It was a split second reaction. Within another step from Cheese, you had unsheathed the knife, gripping it by the hilt. With all your might, you aimed it at Blood, flicked your wrist, and released it from your hand.

The blade soared across the room, burying itself in Blood’s chest. 

He looked down in shock, slowly pulling the blade from his chest, dropping it. It clanged on the floor as it fell, and Blood crumpled to the floor soon after, landing in a pool of his own blood. You stared in shock, but quickly recovered and stood to your feet, blocking the crib from Cheese’s path.

Your daughter would live.

If someone else was going to die tonight, it wouldn't be her. If it was Cheese, that was all the better. But if you went down, you were taking him with you. He would not leave this room alive. You’d fight tooth and nail to the end, doing everything you could to protect your daughter. 

Cheese finally collected himself, turning to you. “You bitch!”

You nearly grinned, wiping the blood that had seeped out from your lip, stepping into a defensive stance. “In the flesh…come and get me.”

Just as Cheese took another step toward you, the door to your chambers swung open, revealing a disheveled and concerned Aemond. It took him a second to realize what was happening. 

When he finally did, the look on his face was murderous. 

“Ser Criston went to get the Kingsguard. If you think they’ll get here in time to save you from your fate, you are sorely mistaken.”

Cheese froze in fear, shakily reaching for his sword. Aemond snarled, unsheathing his daggers, closing the chamber door behind him. 

“I hope it was worth dying for. It looks like my wife gave your friend a quick end. You won’t be so lucky.”

Cheese moved to back up, but you had already snuck to reach the blade that Blood had dropped. You scrambled over on your knees, stabbing it into the back of Cheese’s thigh. He howled in pain, dropping to his knees. 

“Please, My Prince–”

His words were cut off by a gurgling sound bubbling in his throat as Aemond lodged one of his daggers into Cheese’s chest. He used his foot to kick Cheese to the ground, reaching down to push the blade deeper. Cheese writhed in pain, raising his hands in surrender. 

“Please! You don’t have to do this.”

“Neither did you,” you said, scurrying to stand behind Aemond. “But you did it anyway.”

“It seems as if you didn’t do my wife the courtesy of giving her a choice. Or maybe you did. What was it, hmm? Sacrifice my child or die? Seeing as that isn’t much of a choice, I will extend to you the same courtesy. So, which will it be? Bleed out on the floor while I watch you choke on your last breath, or have me put an end to your suffering by slitting your throat? The choice is yours.”

Cheese cried out in anguish, trying to pull himself away. Aemond seethed, using his other dagger to stab through Cheese’s throat, twisting the blade as it went in. You watched as he choked on his own blood, gasping for breath. 

“I choose suffering,” Aemond said, pulling both blades free from Cheese’s body. “A gift to my wife.”

Blood spurted out from both wounds, and Cheese writhed and groaned on the floor in pain until he finally stilled, going limp. His eyes were still open when he died. Sometimes, you forgot just how cruel your husband could be, at least to everyone but you and Saera. Fiercely protective, though, a quality which you were grateful for. 

When it was all over, Aemond dropped his daggers, quickly turning around to face you. 

You threw your arms around his neck, and he pulled your shaking form into his. You gripped him tight, and he gripped you tighter, if that was even possible. He cradled your head to his chest, gently rocking you back and forth. You took deep breaths, fighting to fill your lungs and keep yourself from hyperventilating. A wave of emotion came over you, and you couldn’t help but to burst into tears, tucking your face into Aemond’s neck.

“Ñuha nēdenka riña,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

My brave girl.

He gently pulled you from his frame, gripping your chin and turning your face from side to side. He grimaced at your split lip and the shape of a hand imprinted on your reddened cheek. 

“Does it hurt?” Aemond asked, face cold and hard.

You ever so slightly shook your head, causing his frown to deepen. 

“You’re lying.”

You sighed, pulling your chin from his grip, looking him in the eye. “Would you rather me tell you the truth? Fill you with guilt? It is not your fault, Aemond.”

“Of course it’s my fault! I wasn’t here.” He breathed deeply, taking a moment. “What happened? Do not lie to me, I’ll know if you do.”

Your shoulders slumped and your heart ached as Aemond looked at you, racked with guilt and anger. You walked over and gently lifted Saera out of her crib, handing her to Aemond. He immediately clutched her tightly to him, cradling her on his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, keeping her close as he listened. 

“I had just put Saera to bed. I went to change, and when I came back, the shutters were open again. I figured they were broken and the wind had blown them open, so I went to tell the guard so that he could relay the information to someone who could fix it in the morning. When I opened the door, he was dead on the floor. Before I could move, they covered my mouth and pulled me into the room. Held us at knifepoint, so I wouldn’t make any noise.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he listened, a fury pooling in his chest. Should have killed him slower, he thought.

You continued. “They said their names were Blood and Cheese, and that they’re debt collectors. They said I owed a life, because of what you did…and if I didn’t give up Saera, they’d kill me, or worse.”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you spoke, your voice thick with emotion. Aemond tried not to falter at the sight. He couldn’t help it. Your tears struck him like an arrow through the heart.

“They promised they wouldn’t hurt me if I cooperated, but I angered them. Blood struck me, and made me choose. I remembered I had strapped the knife to Saera’s cradle, so I asked if I could say goodbye to her. They agreed, and I got to the blade. I killed Blood with it, just like you taught me. You came in right after.”

Aemond closed the gap between you, bringing you to his chest. He held you and Saera to him just as Ser Criston returned with a slew of guards. 

“Are you alright, My Lady?”

You could only nod, finding shelter in Aemond’s arms. You could faintly hear him explain to Ser Criston what happened, but you weren’t listening. You could only focus on slowing the beat of your heart, and making sure your daughter was alright. Aemond kept you tightly clutched to him, not letting you out of his sight.

—

In the days that followed, you could hardly leave a room without Aemond being hot on your trail. He had practically become your shadow.

Aegon and your family had been quickly informed of what occurred in your chambers, leaving the council to decide amongst themselves what the next course of action should be. You told them to leave you out of it until they came to a decision. 

You tried your hardest to understand the reasoning behind it. It no doubt had been an act Daemon thought of himself. You couldn’t bring yourself to blame Rhaenyra. She had to have been mad with grief, not truly paying attention to the justice her husband decided was fair.

The attack wasn’t even meant to harm you. Evidently enough, the Black’s blamed Aegon for Lucerys’s death. They wanted to hurt him, not you. It was Blood and Cheese who decided amongst themselves that you and Saera were compensation enough for Luke’s death.

Either way, it showed you and Aemond just how ugly this war could get.

Saera was with you at all times, Aemond not far behind. He kept his duties limited, never leaving you without him or guards for long. You were grateful for it, at first. You feared being alone, paranoid that someone was lurking in the shadows. But your fears eased over time.

Aemond’s didn’t.

He wouldn’t speak of that night, not after you told him all you could remember. Maybe he thought he was protecting you. Doing you a kindness, not wanting to bring up painful memories. But it did you both no good.

You could tell it was eating away at him. He was just too stubborn to do anything about it.

He would never tell you, but he was so anxious ever since that night that he nearly made himself ill every day. He awoke every morning feeling like he would be sick if he didn’t keep you and Saera close. There was a permanent pit in his stomach, one he couldn’t seem to rid himself of. And there was a rage brewing inside, so strong that it scared even him.

It took him a month to finally ease up, and give you a little space. 

He made sure you and Saera were always protected, but he gave you your freedom to have some time to yourself. If you thought Aemond spent too much time with your daughter before, you couldn’t have been more wrong. He spent practically every waking minute with her, determined to be the one to keep her safe. 

Saera loved it, of course. She was her father’s daughter. She loved you, too, but there was no denying she favored Aemond. She adored him more than anyone else in the whole world. He loved her just as much, and even more so.

You didn’t mind. You had enough love for the both of them. 

After a month and a half, you decided enough was enough. You would not be ruled by fear, and you most certainly would not let it control your family.

One evening, you asked your handmaiden if she would take Saera for her bath. Under guard, of course. You were willing to let her out of your sight, but never willing to leave her vulnerable. That was something you thought Aemond would agree on. 

Soon after she left, Aemond entered your chambers, immediately scanning the room. “Where’s Saera?”

“She went for her bath. I sent her with Jeyne. Ser Arryk is on guard with them.”

Aemond looked uneasy, but nodded, setting his things down. You gave him a sad smile, opening your arms. 

“Come sit with me, please.”

He looked close to refusing, but finally relented. He sat at the foot of your bed, removing his boots and belt. You crawled to sit behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head in the middle of his back. He stiffened, and then sighed, easing under your touch.

“I want you to talk to me,” you muttered into his shoulder.

Aemond hummed. “About what?”

You pressed yourself closer to him, circling your thumb on his waist. 

“You know what.”

He nodded, keeping his gaze pointed towards his lap. “Alright, then. I’m listening.”

“I know you still feel guilt,” you started, keeping your tone soft. “And you harbor rage, and resentment…I wish you wouldn’t.”

He scoffed, chuckling. “How could I not?”

“Because it’s not your fault.”

Your words were sincere, but he wouldn’t accept them. He couldn’t bring himself to believe you. 

“My wife had to defend herself and my child against two assassins who tried to make her pay for a crime she did not commit, so pray tell, how is it that I am not the one to blame?”

You shook your head, twisting to sit next to him. “Look at me.”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes, and you grabbed his hands in yours, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Ñuha jorrāelagon, jurnegon rȳ nyke. Kostilus, Aemond. Jaelan naejot ūndegon ao.”

My love, look at me. Please, Aemond. I want to see you.

His voice was soft, and when he finally looked up, you could see tears brimming in his eyes. “Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon ao naejot ūndegon nyke, ñuha jorrāelagon. Daor hae iksan.”

I don’t want you to see me, my dear. Not as I am.

You cupped his face in your palms, your words firm. “I want to see you as you are, no matter how that is. You won’t talk to me, Aemond. It’s been so long. I miss your voice, I miss your laughter. Don’t shut me out. Tell me what’s on your mind, I don’t care if it’s callous.”

He brought his hand up to cover yours, leaning his cheek into your palm. He was quiet a moment before he found the words.

“I thought I lost you. I thought I lost the both of you.”

You sighed, running your thumb across his cheekbone. “Darling…”

“When I returned to our chambers and found the guard murdered, I thought I would open the door and see you slain, as well. You, and Saera. Having paid the price for something that I did.”

“But you didn’t,” you said, quickly shaking your head. “You saved us. When you opened the door…I’ve never felt anything like it. Relief doesn’t even begin to explain it. I knew I was safe, I knew Saera and I would be alright.”

“You’d have been alright and never in danger in the first place if it had not been for my actions.”

“You couldn’t have known, Aemond. It was an accident.”

“Accident or not,” he said, voice cracking. “It almost cost me my girls. If you were hurt, it would have been blood on my hands. It is blood on my hands.”

There was a knock at the door, and your handmaiden entered your chambers, holding Saera. You stood, making your way over to them.

“Here you go, Princess,” she cooed, placing Saera in your arms. She nodded to you, excusing herself before she left. “Ser Arryk is just outside, My Lady. My Prince.”

You thanked her, waiting till the door was shut before you turned back around. Aemond looked ashamed, reluctant to meet your gaze. Saera stirred in your arms, incoherently babbling. 

“Kepa,” she suddenly said, pointing.

Father.

You smiled, bouncing her on your hip. “That’s right, darling. Kepa. Do you want to tell your Father goodnight?”

She eagerly nodded, reaching for Aemond. You chuckled, walking her over to Aemond, placing her in his lap. Saera babbled, clutching his shirt in her little fists. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she leaned forward to rest against his chest.

“Clearly, someone’s missed you,” you mused. “She isn’t the only one.”

Aemond looked up at you, his face softening. You took his free hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. 

“She doesn’t fear you, Aemond. She doesn’t fear anything. Not when she has you to protect her, and she knows you will…I know you will. I don’t worry for my or her wellbeing, not when I’m with you. But I do worry for your wellbeing, because you won’t talk to me. I know your feelings plague you. You’re free to share them with me, whenever you like. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. I’m your wife, and I’m here to listen.”

Aemond couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How can she not blame me, he thought. How did I get so lucky? You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, laying your head against it. He rested his head on top of yours, sighing in relief.

“You’re perfect, aren’t you?” He asked, his voice laced with humor. “The Gods must have made a mistake, gifting you to me. How unfortunate for them.”

“How unfortunate, indeed,” you agreed, settling into his side. “They seem to have misplaced you. Quite lucky, for me. I didn’t even have to earn you.”

“You’ve earned far more than me, darling. Far more. Quite lucky for me, I’d say.”

You hummed, not being able to stop yourself from smiling. From the sound of his voice, Aemond was smiling as well. 

“I’d consider us both lucky, then,” you decided, you and Saera melting into Aemond’s arms. He only hummed.

“Indeed.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this took so long to get out. I went a little overboard, but I just loved this request. I hope you liked it, let me know what you think!

[deuxcherise]

Collar Crimes: Self-Preservations

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, OCs, yandere male, tsundere male, kidnapping, violence against doors, slight fluff (?), slight comfort (?), reader insert, gender neutral reader, includes a picture of cutting board with fruits and a knife (you’ll see why~).

A/n: So! Back with another chapter for Collar Crimes. I had a plan originally to introduce another yandere in this chapter, but the build-up here is quite delicious in my opinion so I’ll save the introduction for whenever the time comes. Basically a tiny time-skip from the last chapter because I was thinking that the problem was that everything that was happening to you, the reader, takes too little time between each “event” so to speak, so yeah! Also exploring some of your personal life outside of Eris and friends. Enjoy~!

Masterlist | Part 5, Part 6 (you’re here!), Part 7

It has been about a month since the Family Portrait incident and life has returned to normal…

But what would be considered abnormal at this point?

Briiing! Briiing! Tch.

“Hello~ This is Lychee speaking~ How may I sweeten up your day today?” you sing into the phone.

“Sweetheart~ I’ve missed you sooooo much!” the caller answers.

Although no one besides your coworkers can see your face, you resist the urge to roll your eyes at yet another cringey lovey-dovey line of your newest client. That nickname is one of the many roles you’ve had to take on.

“Darling”, “honey”, “sweetie”, “sweet talker”, “beautiful”,  “my special”, “youngster”, “lady”, “sir”, “ma’am”, “dad”-

Sometimes, you get called even more vulgar things you do not wish to recall at the moment. But whatever the customer wants, the customer gets— you play the role, they pay your bills. Can't really complain.

Of course, your mind echoes, no one could beat the way Eris calls you “lov-

You slam your head against your desk, producing a loud bang. Your client on the line worriedly exclaims, “S-sweetheart? What was that?”

You clear your throat, fingers tenderly pressed against the sore area on your forehead. “N-nothing at all, dear~ I just accidentally dropped a heavy stapler. It’s been a long day, ah…”

Speaking of that guy, ever since he dropped you off at home and went, you haven’t seen him around. Specifically, only physically, seeing as your fridge is still stocked with fresh meals. Still, the lack of his dopey smiling face for a whole month straight is… concerning.

“Aww~ My sweetheart is working so hard… I’ll tell you what. Tonight, I’ll take you to the fanciest restaurant in the city, okay? My treat.”

Wow. Such a grand gesture. This client really enjoys roleplaying some rich savior. Kind of like-  “Ehhh? Don’t worry about it. And besides, I’m working pretty late tonight so… ”

“Noooo! You can’t refuse,” your client says. “I’ll march right up to your company and kidnap you away myself if I have to.”

“Pffft. Don’t make that kind of joke, Ren,” you fake laugh. Dear lord, if only the police were more reliable in this godforsaken city…

“Ah~ I really like it when you say my name. Do it again.”

“Ren?”

“Again. But more lovely.”

“Ren~” you repeat with a soft and breathy tone.

The caller on the phone giggles maniacally before they bid you goodbye with lots of kisses and other corny romantic lines, making you shiver. You hang up the phone with a little force and release a heavy sigh as you slouch back against your chair. One of your coworkers leans back far on her own chair to show her face past the divider between your desks.

“Long daaay?” she asks.

Eye closed, you nod. “Mmhm.”

…..

Sensing eyes on you, you open your own and turn towards your coworker, who looks like she’s a soda can about to burst. You almost laugh. “Yes?”

She puckers up her lip, humming, “Mmm… ya know~ The usual? Can I? Please?”

You mentally prepare yourself and shrug. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Yay!” She celebrates with both arms raised before she takes a deep breath. “So-”

-----

“-or not? Like how do I know if she really loves me? What do you think, (Y/n)?”

Truth be told, you might have zoned out after twenty minutes before zoning back in during the last few minutes of the hour-long rant. Shockingly, not a single call came in to interrupt the conversation. “Uh… so what’s the problem again?” you ask. “Didn’t she already agree to date you?”

“I know,” Cherry insists, throwing her hands up in defeat. “But I'm still so worried. Like what if she looks at someone else and finds them better than me? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COMPARE??? SHE IS A GODDESS, I TELL YOU. I AM NOTHING BUT A DISGUSTING BUG THAT NEEDS TO STEPPED ON OR SO HELP ME-”

You keep silent as she releases her passion out loud, much to the detriment of your other coworkers. Your other coworker, Azure, sat on your other side, leans back on his chair to join the conversation. “Hey, Cherry. If you’re this crazy about your girlfriend now, what’s gonna happen when you finally marry her?” he chuckles.

She quiets and turns towards Azure slowly like one of those possessed dolls, tears beading at the bottom of her eyes and crooked grin on her lips. “Ohoho… Well… If I had it my way…” She looks up thoughtfully and wraps her arms around her body. “I’d lock her up with me in our house and we’d stay in bed all day. Just me and my honey~ Isn’t that a wonderful idea?”

Old memories of a familiar dynamic bleed into your head, sending a shiver up your spine. That’s a horrible idea, you want to comment, but your voice doesn’t leave your tightened throat. Instead, what comes out is: “Uh… uh…

“Doesn’t your girlfriend like being outside though?” Azure points out.

Cherry tilts her head, still smiling. “Um... Yeah?”

“So if you keep her inside all day, won’t she come to hate you?”

Cherry’s maniacal face shatters into terror. “I… I…” Her pupils begin to tremble. “Could that happen? Could that really, really happen?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Azure responds. “If you love someone, you have to let them have the freedom to come and go. If they love you, they’ll stay. If they don’t, then let them go.”

Wow… that’s a really mature-

“Then again,” His voice then becomes more dark and gravelly, “You never know who’s just waiting to come in out of nowhere and sweep them off their feet. Relationships are… a delicate balance, of giving and taking. If your girlfriend wanders around too much, maybe you should keep her on a tight leash. I know I would…”

You stare at him and then your eyes move towards the solid, light blue top of your desk where your keyboard lies. Perhaps it may be because of your age or because of the recent chaos you’ve experienced, that you’ve started to notice these little things. Like how some of the keys on your keyboard that you use a lot are a little lower than the ones you typically don’t use. Or how there are tiny, tiny imperfections on the surface of your desk that you don’t feel at all when you pass your fingers across. Like how far back you and your coworkers have to lean back just to see each other past the deep dividers, just like how you’ve never noticed how… odd they were before despite working here for about five years now.

What exactly attracted Eris to you in the first place? Is it the same as what attracted your ex? What about you exactly causes the attraction, because you would really like to stop being a magnet for all of these weirdos, romantic or platonic!

…..

Well, one weirdo is okay. When he’s not annoyingly clingy, Eris’s… a decent person. Like when you’d come home after a long, hard day, he greets you at the door with that dopey smile of his. He’d draw a bath for you or massage your shoulders. Then he’d present and serve a dish he spent all day cooking. And then dessert. And then tuck you in for the night, making sure the AC is at the optimal temperature to sleep comfortably and cozy.

…..

You groan. Maybe it’s better this way. You’ll get used to being by yourself again, just like after you left…  Besides, it was getting annoying having to endure his warm hugs and sweet whispers all the time…

“(Y/n)!?” Cherry shrieks after you bang your head on your desk again.

Azure snickers. “You must be thinking of lover boy, huh?”

You glare at him through your eyes and voice, your ever-present blank expression lending no assistance. “No. Say that again and I’ll stick my foot up your ass, Blueberry.”

You can visibly see his shoulders shake as he smirks, containing his laughter. “I really can’t take you seriously when you have such a straight face.” He settles down with an amused sigh, a look of concern replacing his smirk. “But seriously, you seem kind of… I dunno. Out of it lately.”

You wrinkle your eyebrows. “... Really?”

“Yeah! Azure’s right. Even your Lychee voice is lacking that… that sparkle-sparkle quality,” Cherry adds, mimicking fireworks with her hands. “Are you okay, (Y/n)? You’re even banging your head…” Her red eyes go wide. “You’re not trying to erase memories of those perverted callers, are you!? THERE ARE BETTER WAYS-”

“I’m sure that’s not what (Y/n)’s trying to do, right? ‘Cause if you need forgetting,” Azure says, patting your back before taking out a black bat with skulls and x’s patterned all over it from under his desk, “all you just need to do is ask. I’ll help you out for free, courtesy as a fellow Fruity Friend~”

“Yeah…” You ignore the happy-murderer look on Azure’s face, sit up straight, and place both of your hands on your desk with determination. “You know what? I think I need a vacation.”

Cherry and Azure gasp. “A vacation!?” 

Indeed… You stand up from your desk with such vigor it elicits a second gasp from them and walk straight towards the manager’s office. A vacation is exactly what I need. Away from this job. Away from my apartment. Away from all of these crazy people!!!

-----

“YOU CAN’T, (Y/N)! PLEASE, YOU CAN’T GO ON VACATION. YOU’RE ONE OF OUR BEST CALLERS! Y-YOU KNOW WHAT?? HOW ABOUT I RAISE YOUR SALARY, HUH?”

You click your tongue. “You can’t buy me with mon-”

“I’ll raise your salary to XXXXXX.”

“.....”

-----

You close the office door behind you with a sigh. Looking next to you, you find Cherry and Azure waiting with bated breath, making the questioning gesture with their palms up to receive the verdict.

“So?” Cherry speaks, her pouty lips making an ‘o’.

You simply answer with a shrug, “I got a pay raise.”

The two of them drop their arms and groan. “I knew it,” Azure sighs, burying his face in his hands. “The money’s too good to quit!”

While you failed to acquire approval for vacation, you’re not feeling too bad considering your income has just upgraded from rent money and leftover takeout to rent money and luxurious restaurant dine-in and leftovers. Though, with your fridge stocked, you suppose you could apply the extra funds towards other things…

But what things? you wonder. Other than a place to live, something to eat, and the bathroom, there is not much you desire nowadays. Once upon a time, you would’ve slobbered over luxury brand items and all that stuff… You found out the hard way that all the sparkling opulence in the world couldn’t afford you any warmth and comfort in a cold, restrictive cage.

Out of an old habit you haven’t gotten rid of, you start to caress your left ring finger with your right index finger and thumb. “Riiight?” you agree, bitterly.

-----

With the end of the work day, employees of Fruity Friends bid their adieus to each other and  either set foot home or to an outing. You, Azure, and Cherry head out of the doors of your company building and down the stairs onto the sidewalk.

“C’mooon! Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Cherry whines, behind you with hands on your shoulders.

“Yeah, gonna go home,” you answer, shoulders wobbling from side-to-side with each step. “Wanna sleep.”

Azure snickers on the side. “What are you? A senior citizen?”

“Hardy har har,” you laugh unenthusiastically, gently brushing Cherry’s hands off your shoulder. “You guys go on ahead without me, okay? Have fun.”

At that moment, a black limousine with tinted black windows drives up the curb and stops into front of you three. The chauffeur comes out, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, dressed in a fancy chauffeur outfit, and gestures towards you before greeting, “Good afternoon, dear esteemed guest of the Ermine Family. We are here to escort you to your dinner reservation with our eldest son, Eris Ermine.”

You stare like a deer in headlights. “Huh?”

Azure and Cherry look between you and the chauffeur before teasing you with an, “Ooooooh!”

“Wow~ fancy, fancy~” Cherry nudges you with her elbow.

“Got a dinner date with lover boy, huh~?” Azure nudges you on your other side.

They said Eris, but… “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong person,” you say, jabbing your coworkers with your own elbows at their sides to make them stop.

The chauffeur shakes his head. “I do believe we have the right person. You are (Y/n) (M/n) (L/n), are you not?”

You almost click your tongue, but don’t out of manners. You haven’t seen that stupid guy in over a month and now he suddenly sends someone to pick you up? That’s so… unlike him.

“I’m not. I’ve been mistaken for that person before. Good day,” you say, grabbing your coworkers by the shoulders and dragging off. Your coworkers luckily get the memo and decide to go along without resistance.

“My deepest apologies, dear (L/n),” the chauffeur says, pulling the visor of his hat slightly downward. “I was informed by Mr. Ermine that if you do not come willingly, we are required to use force if needed.”

Goosebumps race along your skin upon his words, sending you into high gear as you grab your coworkers by arms and pull them into a run, managing only a few feet before to get pulled down by the weight of your coworkers. Looking at them in confusion, you find little fuzzy-ended darts embedded into the back of their necks. Before you can scream or make a move, gloved arms cover your mouth and wrap around your body, lifting you up into the air and towards the limousine. Struggle as you might, your restrained punches and kicks have no effect on the kidnappers.

After you get thrown into the backseat of the limousine, you immediately try to get up and out only for the door to slam shut. The push button is immediately locked, trapping you inside. You hear the chauffeur getting to the driver’s seat. Making a last ditch attempt, you throw yourself against the windows, the side windows and the tinted window separating you and the chauffeur, but your effort is vain and all you end up with are two bruised shoulders. Punching against the glass, you screaming, “LET ME OUT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I- I- I'LL-”

Tssshhhh…

“Apologies, dear guest” the chauffeur merely says, as you begin to lose consciousness from the gas leaking into the backseat. The last thing you hear from him is, “This is just business.”

-----🔔-----

For newcomers who would dare set foot in the city of Agobury, it is highly advised to pay close attention to where their foot lands. Any one spot could be the right step into the right places, or tossed into the water for the wild piranhas to eat.

…..

Most of the inhabitants of the city live on paved streets like the classy folk they are, and no one has the time to dig six feet down at the edge of the city for some nobody's corpse to rot in. Make sense?

Of course, as humor goes, there is no clear distinction or indication for which streets belong to who. To an outside, that is. It is often said that only those born and raised in Agobury can survive in Agobury. And those who used to live in Agobury… Well, nobody talks about them, get the gist?

However, if an outsider does somehow manage to succeed in assimilating into the city, then it is often said that they have made a deal with the Devil. The May Devils, to be exact, who are rumored to own more than half of the city. The other half is supposedly scattered between smaller organizations, but they too warrant respect or fear by their own right.

“Or so they say,” Ollie murmurs, arms crossed as he leans against the wall.

He stands up straight and looks at his best friend, who’s humming a tune while placing a tin full of batter into the oven. This scene of Eris dressed up in a pink apron decorated with red hearts and matching oven mitts goes against Eris’s typical image, prompting him to demand, “What the hell are you doing? Training to be a malewife or something?”

Eris snaps out of his daydreams and looks over. “Hm? Oh! Nah, I suggested that to my lover already and they refused. And this, I'm just baking a cake for my six-month relationship milestone~”

“Oh.” Ollie deadpans. “That's a thing?”

“Uh, yeah?” Eris answers as if Ollie just asked if the sky was blue. He takes off his oven mitts and tosses them on the counter before prepping the washed fruits on a cutting board. “So make sure your men take extra care in delivering this one, mkay? I'll kill them if my lover gets a mess.”

Ollie tosses a glance behind himself, taking note of the stone walls and surprisingly mahogany-plated bolted steel door separating this room from the rest of the world. Of course, there is a guard waiting outside to help him get in and out, and several cameras to serve as extras eyes in case of an emergency, but he knows better than anyone that even with the room being several hundred feet underground and locked behind several dozens of thick, reinforced steel gateways, it all wouldn’t be enough to keep Eris cooped up here.

In fact, for the last four weeks, Eris has turned what used to be an empty stone-covered haunted looking basement into a cozy home for himself, and having Ollie’s men deliver the goods. To be fair, the May Devils probably gave the weasel some furniture and a usable kitchen just to keep the violent man occupied and placated with the lack of windows and any access to the outside world. So million dollar question is-

“Why haven’t you broken out yet?” Ollie asks. “I thought you'd put up more of a fight.”

Eris pops a blueberry into his mouth to test out if it's sweet or not. Finding it at the right level of sweetness, he hums in delight as he imagines you happily enjoying this same sweetness.

“Oh, that. Well… y’know your parents visited me a few days ago and gave me some advice. They said that distance makes the heart grow fonder. I don't exactly agree with that since I feel like I'm dying every day I don’t see my lover,” Eris says with a smile on his face though his eyes are dark and his chopping of the apples is audibly sharp as if to emphasize the point. “But your parents have been married for so long and have many children together and they still clearly love each other, so I trust them.”

The same parents who have been urging me to make a move on (Y/n) ever since you’ve been locked up, Ollie almost wants to add out of spite. Almost. Trust is truly a fragile commodity around these parts.

“Besides, I gotta stay away for a while,” Eris continues. “I didn’t realize the flies around my lover were devils.”

“Huh… How kind of you.” And out-of-character! The Eris he knew didn't care about consequences. What kind of sorcery have you casted on that beast of a weasel? Not that Ollie himself hasn't been bewitched somewhat, if he had to be honest… 

Eris’s expression turns wicked with a condescending smirk. “Oh, right. You probably don’t understand ‘cause you haven’t fallen in love yet. My bad~ ” he teases.

One of Ollie’s eyes twitches. “I'll have you know-”

“That our Ollie has fallen in love~”

Eris turns and Ollie twists around to find Ollie's mother, who has appeared out of nowhere along with Ollie's father in tow.

“Mother!? Father!? What are you doing here?” Ollie exclaims.

Ollie's mother pouts and places her hands on her hips. “We can't visit our son and his best friend?”

“Well, that's-”

“But anyway~” Ollie's mother waves her hand, cutting Ollie off. “Our dear Ollie has fallen in love, dear Eris. Unfortunately, it is…” She places a hand over heart and the other over her forehead in a dramatic pose with fluttering eyes. “A forbidden love,” she finishes. Ollie's father nods, placing a hand over his heart and looking forlorn to emphasize the drama.

“Again!? You two, stop it!” Ollie pleads.

Eris crooks an eyebrow in disbelief. “Forbidden love? Ollie?”

Ollie turns back to Eris, fear in his wide eyes. He wouldn't call what he felt for you… “love” as his parents keep telling him, but… it might be… something close to it. Maybe. Despite having the back of his head slammed against the wooden floor of your apartment, he still hasn't forgotten how your heavenly happy face made his heart skip a beat-

Ollie would be hard-pressed to call that “love”. It’s not! He barely knows you. It's like, uh, like admiring a beautiful piece of art, okay?? Art prompts feelings. That's what it's supposed to do!

But there's no possible way he could share and work out these feelings with Eris or anyone else without getting beat up or made fun of. Damn it… “It's not love!” Ollie insists.

Eris snorts. “Okay.”

Ding!

“Oh! My cake!” Eris chirps, forgetting about the other people in the room in favor of bringing out the cake and prepping the frosting and icing for when it cools down.

Ollie's mother wraps an arm around Ollie’s shoulder to keep him in place as she leans towards Ollie's ear and whispers behind a hand, “I see you've already made a move on our dear (Y/n). How devious~”

“What??” Ollie shouts in shock.

Eris looks over curiously. Blocking his view is Ollie’s father, who flops a hand up and down as if to say, “Don't mind them.” The unsuspecting weasel nods in understanding before Ollie’s father points to the bowl of cream in Eris’s hands, which prompts Eris to explain the whole six month relationship milestone thing while the mother-and-son duo are scheming in the background.

Ollie's cheeks are being squished almost to the point of painful by his mother’s fingers. “Since when have you decided to raise your voice at your mother?” she jokes menacingly before she releases his cheeks and drags him out of the room and through one gateway. Once that gateway shut, his mother crosses her arms with a pout. “What's with that reaction earlier, hm?”

Ollie only looks at her incredulously. “Mother! One, I'm not interested in-” He whispers, trying to avoid his voice from being picked up by the cameras in the hallway. “(Y/n) like that. Two, they’re Eris's lover and I like living, thank you very much. And three, I haven't made any kind of moves.”

“Eh?” She looks at him with confusion. “Well, first of all, there’s no ring so you still have a chance. Secondly, everyone knows, besides Eris, that you’re interested in them so might as well make your move-”

Ollie chokes on his tongue. “Huh-”

“And three, how come you made the reservation for Eris and his lover if you’re not attending?” his mother asks.

Ollie's eyebrows furrowed. “I didn't make any reservations for them. Did you?”

“No…?”

The two go back inside the basement and interrogate Eris, who is in the middle of deciding what color to make the frosting. Ollie’s father, on the other hand, is assisting with coming up with potential designs for the cake, utilizing parchment paper and colored frosting.

“Huh? I didn't make any dinner reservations?” Eris says, confused before his eyes begin to light up. “Wait, are those devils letting me go?”

“No. But if you didn't make any reservations, then who is your lover going with?”

“You weren't joking?” Eris's voice goes shrill. His eyes panically jolt all over the place until a particular thought enters his mind. He slaps the palm of his hand against his forehead and groans.

Without needing a word, Ollie’s own eyes widen in horror. “It's not who I think it is, right?”

“Ah, could it be?” Ollie's mother wonders aloud, a person on her mind. Ollie's father tilts his head before his own eyes widen.

“DAMN IT!” Eris roars, slamming a fist on the counter before grabbing the knife and storming towards the door.

Ollie tries to stop him. “Eris, you can't-”

Eris sends the steel door flying with one kick. The impact against the parallel wall shatters the beautiful mahogany-plating instantly, leaving only a bent door collapsed on the wall, much to Ollie’s horror. 

This particular door was only as thick as probably two doors. The rest of the reinforced doors standing in Eris’s way, well…

WOOOO! WOOOO! WOOOO!

The alarm goes off, signaling to the May Devil's security team to come take down their most dangerous prisoner who's on his way to you.

Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why is it always the mahogany…”

[sanfangirl-cynicalromantic]

HiccstridWeek2024 Day 2: Oh Lord, I Think About Jumping Off Of Very Tall Somethings

Happy @httydhiccstridweek everyone! Today's prompt is "to fly or to fall"

Summary: “It’s just like flying,” he insisted.

“Not really,” she argued, mostly for the sake of arguing. “It’s just falling slower and slightly less dangerously.”

“Less dangerously,” Hiccup repeated like that was somehow going to gain a point in his favor.

“You could avoid that danger altogether by not jumping off your dragon, but no!” She was starting to lose her patience.

Astrid's opinion of Hiccup's flightsuit changes over the years.

Read on AO3

“No,” Astrid seethed. Her arms were crossed and she  glared disapprovingly at her friend.

“C’mon,” he wheedled, his voice almost a whine. “You can see I’ve improved already! Just a few more adjustments and -”

“You’re grounded,” Astrid snapped. “And I will take that thing away from you if I have to.” Hiccup grumbled but Toothless, who was done with catching the young man, smacked the back of the human’s head with his tail.

“Ow! Okay, fine, you traitor reptile,” Hiccup relented. “But I’m keeping the Dragonfly II.”

~

“Hiccup, no,” Astrid pleaded with the boy as he stood on top of another cliff, the wind blowing strongly around them and almost whipping his skinny frame from side to side. She wasn’t doing that much better, but at least she was holding on to Toothless.

“You’ve already seen this work,” Hiccup argued. “This thing literally saved me from being paralyzed by a Speed Stinger! How- how could you still not approve?”

“Because I don’t like you recklessly throwing yourself off of tall places just for fun!” Astrid cried. What if he got seriously hurt? “You could -” she broke off. He could die. And she would live with her cowardice of not confessing her feelings for the rest of her life. “It’s dangerous,” she finished lamely. Hiccup’s smile softened.

“It’s just like flying,” he insisted.

“Not really,” she argued, mostly for the sake of arguing. “It’s just falling slower and slightly less dangerously.”

“Less dangerously,” Hiccup repeated like that was somehow going to gain a point in his favor.

“You could avoid that danger altogether by not jumping off your dragon, but no!” She was starting to lose her patience.

“It’ll be fine; I promise,” he assured her. Astrid rolled her eyes affectionately.

“That’s not-”

“Watch!”

“Wha- No!”

He flung himself off of the cliff and Astrid cursed and climbed onto Toothless’s back.

~

“Huh, nice place,” Astrid greeted him, looking around the small island. Hiccup turned to her, smiling, as she pushed her hood back out of her eyes. He knew she disliked the way her hood sometimes blocked out her peripheral vision; she was always uncomfortable when her vision was impeded.

“We’ve named it ‘Crash Landing,’” he told her dryly. She smirked and sauntered over to him, hands automatically brushing over his shoulders, searching for telltale signs of injury, noting the newest scratches and brushing off some dirt.

“How?” she asked quietly, her eyes concerned but with a hint of mirth. Hiccup sighed, submitting to her teasing before she’d even started.

“Toothless was solo flying and I didn’t give him enough warning for that rocky ledge up there,” he pointed. “So . . .” he trailed off and shrugged his shoulders in that exaggerated, overly-dramatic way of his. Astrid chuckled as she followed his line of sight, then frowned as her gaze snapped back to him. She reached out to feel one of his leather flaps and Hiccup winced even before her eyes met his.

“It wasn’t that bad this time, okay. Besides, you don’t mind it anymore-”

“I know there’s no point in getting you to stop,” Astrid corrected. “I don’t like it, though.”

“It’s really great. I mean, remember how much you loved the first time I showed you flight? This is even better.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Less potential for sneaking in a cuddle.”

“Oh, that's what you want, huh?" Hiccup grinned. "C'mere," he wrapped her up between her arms, the way she liked when it was just the two of them and she took a secret delight in his ability to engulf her while she let down her emotional armor.

Astrid shifted a little bit to get more comfortable and lay her head on his shoulder to look up at his face. "Don't think being all mushy with me is going to get you out of trouble, mister."

“Admit you like it.”

She rolled her eyes.

~

It had been a couple days since he had been crowned chief, and Hiccup was just itching for an hours-long flight with Toothless. He felt the overwhelming responsibilities of the chiefdom weighing and suffocating him, until all he wanted to do was throw away the fur mantle Gobber had given him - Stoick had ordered it a few weeks ago in preparation for “The Big Talk” - and take to the skies, never to return. Not that he would do that, of course. He wouldn't dare. But it was a tempting thought.

“Hiccup!” a voice called and he felt a grin involuntarily spring to his lips at the sound of her cheery voice. His betrothed walked through the open door of his hut, eyes brightening as she saw him.

“You’re in your flying suit,” she noticed.

“I, uh, yeah. I just-” Astrid  sighed.

“I’ll handle things while you take a break,” she offered him a smile. Hiccup brightened.

“Really?”

“As much as I disapprove of what you’re going to do in that walking death-trap-”

“Hey! It worked,” Hiccup shot triumphantly, wagging a finger. “It saved me my other leg. And more.” At least he hadn’t lost any more limbs along with his father. Astrid wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and nuzzled into his chest.

“I guess so,” she conceded.

“I’ve practically mastered-”

“Now hold on,” she interrupted, raising her head so she could fix him with a stern look. “Just because you managed it once does not mean you’ll get it every time.”

“Guess I better practice, then,” Hiccup replied cheekily. Astrid shook her head in mock weariness.

“I walked right into that one,” she admitted. The chief lit up with a new idea.

“Actually, we should all have flightsuits!” he exclaimed, his mind suddenly whirling with designs and calculations.

“What? Whoa, there, dragon boy,” she tried to soothe him. “I said ‘take a break,’ not ‘find another huge project to obsess over.’”

“I’m not hearing a no to adding a flightsuit as part of a rider’s gear.”

“Tell you what,” Astrid said, stroking his chest with light fingers. “You take Toothless out for a ride, come home, take a nap, and then we can discuss this.”

“You drive a hard bargain, milady,” Hiccup grinned. “I love you,” he added, pressing a hard kiss to her hair.

“Love you too,” she said softly.

~

“So?” he asked proudly after Stormfly had brought her up. “Pretty amazing, huh.”

“Totally different than riding a dragon," Astrid panted, holding a hand over her abdomen. She was in excellent shape, of course, but flying in a straight line downwards required more core strength than one expected. "It was thrilling, though."

“You like it!" Hiccup gloated. "Right?" Astrid detected a note of vulnerability in his voice that she hadn't heard in a while. His flightsuit was one of his favorite inventions, and Astrid had never  taken to it the way he had, but -

Astrid's face softened. "I do," she nodded. “Not as much as you do, but I can see the use for it . . . and the fun. Not enough fun to convince me to jump off of our dragons as a date or anything," she warned. “But yeah, I like it. Just, maybe keep it a secret from the twins a little longer?"

“Oh, I will," Hiccup nodded urgently. "No need to give them these things any sooner than we need to."

“We should armor them, if possible," Astrid said. If they were going to use Hiccup's Dragonfly-the-whatever-number-it-was-by-now edition, she'd make it as safe and practical as she could. "If they're going to be fully fledged flightsuits for battle, we might as well incorporate protection."

“I like that idea," Hiccup agreed, buoyant at her approval.

~

She had lost track of how long they had stood there. The sun had already set, but she had not yet acquainted herself with the rise and fall of the sun with this new land: the elevation was different and they were further west . . . aaand she was starting to sound like Hiccup. She picked her head off of his shoulder to look at him, and the movement caught his eye. He gave her a sad smile, looking out over the cliff and back at her again. They were the last people still standing by the edge.

She shifted and wordlessly began to help him hop towards the village. There was no one around to call for help, and she knew Hiccup hadn’t gotten around to unpacking his other legs, so they made their way painfully to his tent.

As she set him down on a cot and rummaged through one of his chests, she felt the heaviness begin to crush her and knew she wouldn’t be able to muster up the energy to leave. She’d stay with the chief tonight. At this point, no one would mind.

“Here,” she said quietly, handing him a prosthetic. Hiccup accepted it and laid it beside the cot. Astrid kicked off her boots and began to slowly remove her armor, leaving her in her undershirt and leggings.

“Hey,” she crawled over to him and cupped his cheek. “Take this off for me?” her fingers trailed down to his shoulder where his armor had been ripped. Hiccup shook himself out of his lethargic stupor and began to numbly remove his armor. She reached her arms out to help him, careful of his broken makeshift wings, trying her best not to tear the leather further and avoid the sharp metal rods. “We’ll have to fix this,” she said conversationally, her mind already compiling a list of things to do tomorrow. “I believe Krone thought he saw some minerals somewhere off to the north and we could send some miners to check for ore so we can fix these-”

“No,” Hiccup interrupted, harsher than she expected. “I’m not fixing it.” Astrid frowned.

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to,” he said sulkily.

“Oh don’t give me that, I can rarely get you out of this thing,” she retorted. Her voice softened. “What’s up, Hiccup?”

He glared at her but there was no real heat. “I just - It was stupid of me to be flying on my own when I - could have been flying with Toothless. Now-” he broke off and hung his head. Astrid’s face melted into pained sympathy.

“Hey," she said gently, crouching before him until he met her eye again. "There's no need to blame yourself for that. None of us saw this coming, and in the end, these saved our dragons," she motioned to his flightsuit and then hers, specks of blood marring the bright blue of her girl's scales.

“Maybe," Hiccup muttered. Astrid straightened as she accepted his defeat. "But I won't fix it anyway. You never liked it and it's not like we have dragons to catch me anymore." Astrid drew a sharp breath and Hiccup winced. Too soon.

“I - I mean - I'm sorry, that was -"

“You're not wrong," she cut in, adopting the unfunny humor. "I'll be glad to see the end of you jumping off of dragons to sacrifice yourself." There must have been an imperceptible wobble in her voice because Hiccup's face cleared and he shifted guiltily.

“You, uh, you saw that, huh?" he laughed nervously. "Great." Astrid's face crumpled and she buried it into his bare shoulder.

“It didn't - you almost didn't - I saw you-"

“I'm sorry," he repeated.

He had thought of her as he was falling to his death in his useless flightsuit. He had been ready to die - he was always far more ready to die than people realized, but as Grimmel tore blindly at his armor as he dragged Hiccup to die along with him, the chief had found himself mourning the loss of Astrid. He had never made her his wife. Not officially. And he knew they hadn't gotten married because Astrid didn't want to yet, but he also knew Astrid didn't want to because she was waiting on him. And he had never been worthy.

“This thing's going to kill you one day," she had snapped, pleading with him countless times. And he had never listened, secure in his and Toothless's infallibility, and now it had finally gotten him killed.

The Light Fury had been a godsend, and though part of him almost wished she hadn't caught him and forced him to make the decision to split with the dragons, he had vowed to himself to make this the last time he fell to his death.

He saw the sadness and fear in Astrid's face right now. She had always taken on protecting him personally in response to Hiccup's recklessness.

“I'm still here," he stroked the top of her head softly. He was still here and she could still protect him. "I won't do it again. Will you - will you forgive me?" Astrid nodded and then hesitated. She punched him swiftly.

“Don’t do it again,” she warned.

“I deserved that,” he wheezed. “Are you . . . okay?” he checked. Astrid sighed as she thought about her answer.

“I will be. I mean, it hasn’t sunk in yet. Right now I think I’m fine. I’ve been away from Stormfly before so I think it’ll take a while before I really, you know. . . It’s like Snoggletog, just, without them . . . coming back.” Hiccup’s face morphed from compassion to panic.

“Astrid, what if I made the wrong decision? What if everybody hates me? Did I just leave Berk vulnerable? This was stupid, I’m not-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Astrid interrupted, glad to refocus on Hiccup’s feelings instead of her own. “Hiccup, we just moved an entire island, have begun building a village, found the Hidden World, and won a war in a matter of days. What you need now is sleep.” She pressed her forehead against his. “You’ve done the best you can. Everyone agrees that they think this place is better than Berk anyway. Just rest.”

“I love you,” Hiccup said tiredly as he gathered her in his arms. They slowly lay down on the cot and Astrid fixed a blanket over them, tucking Hiccup securely in so his tossing and turning wouldn’t get too out of hand while she was asleep. She tucked her head under his chin and ignored the lone tear that fell on her hair. They fell asleep slowly, drifting off with the uncanny absence of their dragons’ breathing.

~

“You . . . you really want to do this?” Hiccup checked.

“I really do,” Astrid affirmed. She pulled a little self consciously at her armored skirt and checked the leather flaps along her arms. Her old flightsuit hadn’t seen any action for two years, but the chieftess wanted to feel the feeling of flying she had been missing so acutely.

She had come across Hiccup’s damaged flightsuit when she was sorting through the storage that had accumulated. She loved her husband, really, but she couldn’t believe how much clutter the chief had stuffed in a room and forgotten about. To think Gobber had just complimented him on his responsibility and organization!

She had run her finger along the torn seams, delicately tracing the night fury scales as memories of Hiccup’s wistful staring off into the horizon and her pleading with him not to use his stupid Dragonflies over the years. She remembered the pang she had felt when she finally accepted the flightsuit as a useful piece of equipment and saw how her approval had meant so much more to him than she’d thought.

Hiccup had reinstated the Regatta at New Berk and found ways to modify the boats and sails to make them faster. Eret still won every year, but Hiccup had come to appreciate the sea foam splashing in his face and the cool wind whipping his hair around. And Astrid certainly appreciated the new muscle growth her husband had gained alongside his sailing prowess. But despite his delight in standing at the bow of the boat, nothing could compare to the unique swooping sensation of flying. So Astrid had brought the suit to Gobber and they had secretly patched it up, for Gobber kept all of Hiccup’s notes dating from back when the Haddock had been twelve. The blacksmith was far more sentimental than most realized.

Hiccup had stuttered until his eyes filled with tears when she presented his old but improved flightsuit and declared she wanted to go cliff diving for their second marriage anniversary.

So here they were, on the cliff: the cliff they had jumped off all those years ago to fly to Grimmel and take on his whole damn fleet of ships. Her husband checked all of his flaps and straps yet again and secured his helmet, glancing at Astrid but knowing better than to try to check her equipment for her. She turned to smile at him, seeing past his fussiness to his underlying nervousness.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” she asked softly. Hiccup gave her a sheepish smile that softened into that stupid smile that made her blush every time. The smile that meant ‘you’re so perfect’ or ‘what did I do to deserve you’ or ‘you have no idea how much I love you.’ It was her favorite smile that she caught all the time during the most mundane things: in between council meetings, when she was helping him plan and distribute duties for the next day, or even when she kissed him when she got home in the evenings. She smiled her own special smile at him in return, her ‘of course I know you better than yourself and would do anything for you smile’ and offered her hand.

“C’mon,” she laughed and pulled him to the edge. Eventually they broke out into a run, hooting like they had done back when they were still seventeen. Her mother was standing off to the side, rolling her eyes fondly at the two rulers of New Berk acting like hooligans and Gobber had his spyglass out, tracking Eret’s boat that was on the water, ready to pick them up when they landed. Astrid began to pull ahead, only a few feet from where the land dropped off and-

They jumped.

And it was like flying.

[azzyisepik]

— DAY 18 ; NOCHE DE ESPECTÁCULO —

For this day of Mes De Los Tres Caballeros, I didn't have much motivation to draw, so take this story instead!! I haven't written in a while, but I decided to write this story not only for fun, but to also save myself some time so I can also start drawing some personal things, rather than things catered to the event.

The night sky was hypnotic, the way the stars would stand so still yet somehow look as if they were dancing to a melody, and ah, the way the moon robbed the sun of it's glory, shining oh so bright from stolen light. It was beautiful, it was almost like you'd been caught in a trance.. Oh, to not love or at least admire the talent the world produced once it hit 12:00 am, it’d be a crime!

.. Then call Panchito a criminal. Panchito was never a fan of the night, he found it boring — how everyone was so silent, how the darkness made it hard to travel with his beloved horse, Señor Martinez. The night wasn't a gift, it was a BURDEN. And he'd never find himself batting an EYE at that moon, that selfish globe that so rudely took the sun’s work and got all the credit. And those stars? Those stars were nasty little gremlins, following the moon’s order like the minions they are! Yes, Panchito couldn't STAND night. So why in God’s name was he out at this time?

Panchito was sitting on the cold grass, alone, staring at the ground. He refused to look up, he couldn't, it'd be too painful, especially with the news he had just received. The temperature of the turf felt like it was attacking his tail feathers, mainly because each time he tried to rest them onto the greenery it was like the sward attempted to freeze him. However, the rooster didn't really care at this point. Slowly laying down, he let the cold embrace of the lea affect him, closing his eyes, still in distress.

He pondered to himself — how? How on Earth could somebody live such a happy, long full filling life and then just pass away like that? And not only HOW, but WHY? Why did God make these decisions and why did he, of all people, have to suffer the consequences? He didn’t understand. It hurt him, it hurt him so much that he couldn’t even bare to think about it, yet here he was.

A small, yet somehow so impactful tear went down his cheek. Brushing against his feathers, tears started to uncontrollably roll down, and at this point, he couldn't stop. He silently cried to himself, the once so loud rooster was now lonesome, sobbing in a quiet environment and for once in his life, he matched that environment. Why? Why did the Lord above take away the one person who he loved the most,

Why did his mama have to leave so soon?

shedding tears with his eyes closed to refrain from gazing upon the sky and, in his opinion, it's disgraceful stars, he hadn’t even realized that a familiar duck was approaching him.

Donald quietly walked over, trying not to alert his weeping boyfriend. Staring down at him, he wondered if he should sit down with him. Sighing, the white fluffy waterfowl crouched down and laid beside the red rooster.

“ Mind if I join? ”

He asked with a soft, tender tone in his voice. Panchito opened his eyes, immediately staring at his boyfriend, trying not to look at the sky. He didn’t want to pay any mind to it at all, he hated it and it hated him. Well, at this time, at least. Panchito wiped his tears, trying to act as if nothing had happened, automatically acting all giddy and energetic, as one would say.

“ Ah, Mi Corazon! What are you doing up so late? Should you not be sleeping with Zé? ”

Donald put on a grumpy face, not falling for this facade.

“ Chito, you can be honest with me. ”

“ What do you mean? I'm fi- ”

“ You can be honest with me, Chito. ”

Said Donald in a stern voice, he wasn’t going to let his partner bottle up his emotions, oh he wouldn’t even DARE. And so, he awaited for a response after a long pause.

After a few seconds, the silence came to an end, with Panchito finally giving in.

“ .. Am I that obvious? Well, I suppose I cannot exactly hide it from you, no? Ah.. I’m just.. what’s the word, hm? Torn, I guess. Denial, perhaps, but I cannot accept it, patito. She.. She was so young. Happy, HEALTHY, even. So why? Why did she have to leave? Was I simply not good at taking care of her? Did I not do a good job? I just.. Why?? That’s the question, Donald, and it's not even rhetorical, yet I’ll never receive an awnser. ”

Panchito said. He really was torn, as he described, he had no idea why his mother had to die like that. Why she had to leave the face of this earth, why she disappeared. It pained him so much to know that he couldn't even be there when it happened, that he couldn't even be there to support her.

“ Well.. Listen, man, the first thing you gotta know is that it isn’t your fault. You don’t have the money to go back to Mexico right now, we all don’t have money to go where we need to go to right now. You can’t control what happens and you can’t control anyone’s fate, there’d be no difference if you were there. In the end, she still would’ve died. ”

“ But you do not understand, Donald, maybe I could’ve helped her — she was sick, I could’ve at least- ”

But before Panchito could even finish his sentence with tears streaming down his face, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“ Hey, if it makes you feel better in any way, she isn’t really gone, is she? ”

Panchito stared at Donald, an expression of confusion yet almost anger began to form on his face.

“ Look, up there. ”

He pointed to the sky, the one thing Panchito had sworn to avoid.

“ She’s there now. She may be dead, but she isn’t gone. Because now, she’s simply just the stars. And not even the stars, she’s everything up there. The moon, the blue inky abyss.. Even the clouds, on a foggy night. That’s all her. You just gotta remember that. ”

Suddenly, everything Panchito was trying to avoid started to feel more.. appealing to him. Comforting, even. He gazed upon the stars, and stared at the moon, and now, it seemed to him as if the moon wasn’t ROBBING the sun, but rather borrowing it’s light. Taking turns during their show, and working together, like a team.

“ ¿Los Estrellas, ah? ”

“ Yeah. ”

“ .. Yo veo. ”

Everything around Panchito started to change, and now, for some reason, the night sky had brought him a feeling of warmth, rather than hatred. It was no longer a burden to him, and it didn’t feel selfish anymore. It eased him.

“ Ella es hermosa. ”

THE END

[badbedforbedding]

@riana-one My answer got too big to fit the comments section, but here it is.

I asked you what did Rheagar do to his wife and children, and you said:

"Nationally humiliating his pregnant wife."

You are saying that Rhaegar "showing favor to/sleeping with" Lyanna while being married caused Elia to be seen or talked about as if she is not good enough but literally no one ever describes Elia as being lesser than Lyanna on account of what happened, no one describes Elia negatively at all. Elia is not remembered in any way unfavorably to her image, honor or worth.

I know cheating is a thorny subject and people have their own feelings about it but there is no textual proof that Elia might have felt humiliated or hurt by whatever happened between R/L.

You're assigning these feelings onto her, it's just your personal opinion of how you think she should feel. Call it a theory, a headcanon or whatever, still; we don't know what she felt, and the noble society of Westeros did not bolster any ill rumors about her after her death. So where is the public humiliation?

Furthermore, to propose a headcanon of my own versus yours; I think there is the slight possibility that Elia had her own secret lover on the side and that comes from a quote by Varys:

Varys gave him a shrewd look. "My little birds tell me that Princess Elia cried a . . . certain name . . . when they came for her."

Next you said:

"Disappearing after kicking off a major war while leaving his wife and children unprotected and in the reach of Aerys."

I think you choosing to talk about Aerys fits exactly on my original post's point, after all Aerys wasn't the one to rape and kill Elia. Who was it again? Have we forgotten already?

Elia was by Aerys's reach the moment she moved into the Red Keep, but that is besides the point, the guy was terrible, but he didn't kill her.

Aerys actually needed Elia alive to use her to control the dornish as seen in this Jaime's pov:

He (Aerys) had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins' men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid.

Also in the quote above, we see that Rhaegar did came back from wherever he disappeared to (as you put it) in the south to hold back the rebellion. If he talked to his wife in this time, how and about what they might have talked, unfortunately we don't know. There is not much evidence of anything, but to conclude Elia was left all alone with no information about anything by her husband is a bit too much. Or are you saying Elia would avoid/ignore Rhaegar just out of spite or anger when he is the guy she depends on for her security and that of her children? Take Ned and Catelyn's marriage for an example.

Lastly I disagree again when you say "Rhaegar kicked off a major war", that's a reach because it wasn't just one action that kicked off the war, but a series of events mixed with Aerys declining sanity being well-known throughout Westeros at that point.

The Prince disappearing with the daughter of the Warden of North did cause tension with the northern Lord, but then Aerys killing said Lord and his son was what crushed any chance of peaceful relations.

By then each lord picks their reason to stand for war, but the truth is that this moment was long coming and the lords of Westeros were waiting for the slight show of vulnerability by the Targaryen king to take over KL.

My point still stands: people will rather complain about Rhaegar for cheating on Elia than point out Tywin and Gregor's involvement in her murder.

[mores0]

The Time Lords Peaked at The War Games.

In my opinion, I think the Time Lords were at their best during the War games. Because before the War games, we didn’t really know anything about the Time Lords or Gallifrey, or any of that really.

But then the War Games comes ripping around the corner and everything took a sudden turn before the Time Lords were even mentioned by name.  Then they were, and the Doctor explains that the Time Lords are his people and Jamie was like, ‘oh, everything’s alright then, if they’re your people than that must be a good thing because you’re good,’ (not what he actually said, but it’s what he meant) but it wasn’t. Like the scene in the End of Time part two with Wilfred and Ten (and I’ll get to that later, hang on).  And when The Doctor went to call the Time Lords, even the War Chief, the main baddie of the entire series, was frightened which really tells you something.

Then the Doctor tells Jamie and Zoe to stay there because the Time Lords will take them home as well. But Jamie and Zoe refused, because of course they would, and the Doctor just gives in and was just like ‘alright then’ and they all move on. And now the Doctor was like ‘okay, but we have to get the hell out of here before the Time Lords get here’ But then the Time Lords begin to arrive.

Then everything begins to slow down. And they begin to slow down. And the Doctor, Jamie and Zoe are trying to run to the TARDIS, but they’re moving at a snails pace, and in the background there’s a haunting and suspenseful song being played, and at this point the Doctor is making a desperate crawl to the TARDIS, but he’s just not close enough to get in, and it was terrible.  But luckily, Jamie was able to open the doors, and it’s like thank God, they made it, everything’s okay now! Wahoo!

But then the Time Lords start to take over the TARDIS to take them back to Gallifrey. And then the Time Lords make their first actual appearance.

They tell the Doctor that he has to come home immediately and face trial, but the Doctor didn’t want to and just wanted them to leave him alone, but of course they didn’t. So they tried flooding the TARDIS, telling the Doctor that his travels were over. So they went to Gallifrey.

And the Time Lords were just so /calm/ throughout the whole thing. They never yelled or got angry, they just said everything like there wasn’t any other option, and it was terrifying.

Then there were the trials where the Time Lords keep their calm and just wiped the War Cheif from existence like it was nothing.

And in trial, after being convinced that the Doctor still has a role to play in the universe, it was another ‘wahoo’ moment, because then they all try to escape, and everything should’ve been fine. In any other episode or series, they would’ve gotten away and had more adventures, but in the War Games, they don’t. They can’t.  So they all say their goodbyes, “I won’t forget you.”

But they do. All of Jamie’s and Zoe’s memories of the Doctor, and of everything they’ve done and seen and accomplished besides their first meeting were wiped away like nothing at all.

And on top of that, they force the Doctor to regenerate to be put on exile in what has to be one of the most terrifying and depressing regeneration in all of Doctor Who, as the Doctor yells “no, no, no” as everything spins before disappearing completely— like what the fuck?? I honestly cried while watching this.

And compared to every other episode or series the Time Lords popped up in, from Classic to New Who, they haven’t matched up to the War Games.

Not even in The End of Time, where they were at their most threatening under the War Games. But at the end of the day, in the End of Time, the Doctor beat the Time Lords, the day was saved, he could’ve went and had more adventures, and the only reason why he didn’t was because of Wilfred in the little machine thingy, not the Time Lords. And they kind of took the back seat to the Master if I’m being completely honest. The Master was the main threat really, not them.

So overall, I believe that the Time Lords were at their best, most menacing and impactful in the War Games, because in everything else it’s always felt as if they took the sidelines, and were always just easily brushed aside or defeated, while in the War Games, they won. And they did so easily.

[bedofthistles]

The Little White Horse: A Complete Summary

So! I finally read TLWH, and man do I have thoughts and opinions! So many... so... many....

However, before I get into those opinions, I wanted to share my summary of TLWH, since I don't think a lot of people have read the book who enjoyed the movie.

Unfortunately, my thots and opinions are too wide and vast, resulting in what is more or less a 16 page dissertation, which may grow depending on if I think I covered all the topics I wanted to cover. So, to makes things a bit easier, I'm going to be splitting them up into more readable sections.

So, if you haven't read the book, if it's been a while since you've read the book, here is a summary of the novel.

Alright friends, the time has come. 

After undertaking the laborious task of consuming all Moonacre content possible (movie, minie-series and novel) I have come to some unfortunate conclusions. The book sucks. But before you go too far, especially the weird amount of you who like the book, I would like to preface that each person is allotted their opinions. I am not aiming to dis the book, it’s a classic, but it’s not perfect, no book or work of art is. No one should get so offended by another’s opinion to the point where it sparks a deep, roiling anger inside of them. 

(Rachel Zeglar may be wrong about the Snow White movie from the 1930s, but I took her side, everyone got real upset about a girl having opinions, not that’s her opinion and she’s allowed it.) 

I want to start out by saying there are some issues in regards to race, incest, pedophilia, grooming and sexism in the novel, if that surprises and shocks you, I’m sorry but its in there, and just because you didn’t notice it doesn’t erase the fact that it was there. I also don’t want this to be about me comparing the book to the movie, because one that would just be a rant, and as much as I love that, that wouldn’t be fair to either works, and honestly? Besides the names and setting, the book and movie could almost fully be divorced from one another. 

In case you don’t know the plot to the book, I will try to surmise it as best I can: 

Maria Merryweather is a recently orphaned girl, she leaves London with her governess (Miss Heliotrope) and her dog (Wiggins) arriving to live with her first cousin once removed, Sir Benjamin, lord over Moonacre Valley (and if you’re not up to snuff about what that means, he’s a landlord, more or less). While driving, Maria occupies herself by staring at her small feet, her one attribute and attractive characteristic. 

While en route, Maria sees the beautiful valley lit up like silver in the moonlight, and between the trees she spots a luminescent white horse. When she tries to tell her governess this, Ms. Heliotrope tells her to stop her overactive imagination, she has always had an overactive imagination, especially back in London, when she made up a playmate named Robin (yes, that one). 

When they arrive, they learn that no woman has stepped foot inside of the house in 20 years - yes, Sir Benjamin is proud of this - and, very importantly, there is no pink within the house. While there, Sir Benjamin is a very happy, polite gentleman, who calls Maria your highness, and refers to Moonacre Valley as her dominion. There are also this weird thing about Sun Merryweathers and Moon Merryweathers.

“The brave soul and the pure spirit shall with a merry and a loving heart inherit the kingdom together," quoted Sir Benjamin. “That's our family motto, my dear. It's been our motto since the days of the first Sir Wrolf. It refers, I think, to the two sorts of Merryweathers, the sun and the moon Merryweathers, who are always merry when they love each other. It is also, perhaps, a device for linking together those four qualities that go to make up perfection --courage, purity, love, and joy."

While giving her a tour of the manor, he shows her a well (this will be important later) and Maria thinks to herself if I were a medieval lady, this is where I would hide my jewels in time of war. 

Weird, but okay. 

The one place Maria is not shown, is the kitchen. 

They go to church, while the Parson is preaching, Maria brushes her skirt to smooth out some wrinkles, and there’s a noise that captures her attention for a bit. Then, once the service is over, everyone lines up and goes up to the Parson to get absolutely read to shreds. He literally tells them their sins of the week, and when it’s Maria’s turn, despite only being there for a day, she’s scolded for her vanity and curiosity. 

One of the things Sir Benjamin gets scolded for is allowing the (and I’m so sorry for this) “Black Men” to stop hunting in Merryweather park. And that’s kind of all they do, and from here on out I will be referring to them as the De Noirs because that is technically their name, but Elizabeth Goudge just keeps calling them “the Black Men”. 

And yes, that is as bad as it sounds, but more on that later. 

Let’s just speed run some facts. 

Every morning, Maria wakes up to cookies, milk, a stroked fire, and an outfit placed out for her. Maria feels so loved by these small acts, and feels as if she loves whoever is putting out these clothes. 

“[Maria] had a queer feeling, as she fastened the coat of the habit and pinned the bunch of snowdrops to the front of it, that L.M. - whoever she was - put loving arms around her; almost as her mother might have done, had she not died.” 

When she is out in the forest with Periwinkle and Wrolf, she hears the shrill, shrieking rabbit, and goes to save it. As she does, she realizes that the De Noirs have come for the rabbit as well. She and Robin save the rabbit from the De Noirs and bring her to safety. Robin tells her it's actually a moonacre hare, and then upon her asking too many questions, leaves. 

“Maria choked down her curiosity, for Robin had always hated being asked questions, and if she asked too many would disappear, and she did not want him to disappear just yet.”

“There was no answer, and looking up she saw that Robin had disappeared, even though as far as she knew she had not asked a single question.” 

She knows this because she would dream about Robin in London, and when she asked him questions, he would just leave the dream. 

Maria learns about Sir Wrolf (who was arrogant, rude, and planned on marrying the Moon Princess to steal Black William’s land), the Moon Princess (who was just pale, and kind, I think?) with her dowry of pearls, and Monsieur Cocque De noir, otherwise known as Coeur De Noir because his heart was so black (it’s a common french last name, not to mention the black cock that rides on the current De Noir’s shoulder).

“[Sir Wrolf had] got Paradise Hill but there remained the pine woods behind his manor house, that run right down to the sea, to what is now called Merryweather Bay, which were the property of Sir William Cocq de Noir, called Black William because of the black cock that was his family crest, and because of his lashing dark eyes, black hair and beard and sallow French skin. And also because of his black heart. Coeur de Noir, men sometimes called him, instead of Cocq de Noir. For he was a bad man, was Black William, cruel to wild creatures, domineering with his servants, morose and ungenerous.”

Black William remarries, has a son, and that son becomes his heir. Because of this, Sir Wrolf can’t inherit the whole of the Valley through his wife, and gets super angry. Because of his rage, the De Noir’s think Sir Wrolf killed Black William, the Moon Princess ran away, and Black William’s son, who was believed to have died from sickness, returned twenty years later with his band of men who would become the wicked, evil, ‘Black Men’ who plague the valley. Sir Wrolf is described to have died heartbroken (good) and damned to ride around Paradise Hill in a sort of purgatory for his ill-deeds.

The Parson also tells Maria that every Moon Princess is destined to leave the Valley after fighting with her love. That it won’t be until the Moon Princess humbles herself and marries a poor man she will never be allowed to stay. 

“She always has gone away," said Old Parson. “Not necessarily from the valley, but from the manor. Yet the old folks in the village vow and declare that one day there will come a Moon Princess who will have the courage to deliver the valley from the wickedness of the Black Men. But like the princesses in all the nicest fairy tales she will have to humble her pride to love not a prince but a poor man, a shepherd or ploughman or some such country lad, and to effect the deliverance with his help, and that's a thing which no Moon Princess has yet done, so proud are they.”

At this point, Maria meets Loveday Minette, the lady who had been leaving her clothes, she is kind and beautiful, and cleans the Parson’s house. 

Then again, while out with her animals and Ms. Heliotrope, Maria goes to Paradise Hill, which is the monastery Sir Wrolf stole from the monks because he was covetous. While there she meets the shepherd and guess who it is? That’s right, Robin, no surprise there. While the two are there, the De Noirs attempt to steal the sheep. 

Robin, Maria, and the Ghost of Sir Wrolf -

“And then, through the noise of the thunder and the rain, she distinctly heard the hoofs of a galloping horse pounding upon the turf. As the horseman was behind her she could not herself see anything, but whoever he was the Black Men seemed to see him, for with faces blanched by terror they turned and fled.”

they manage to scare them off.

Maria and Robin have a fight, but they deal with it, because Maria knows if she doesn’t forgive him, she’ll have to leave the Valley. This will be handled in more depth later. Likewise, Loveday and Sir Benjamin had a fight twenty years ago, Loveday leaves the Valley, marries a lawyer, sires Robin, and then comes back after her husband dies. Because of their stubborness, neither would return to the other and apologize. More detail on this later. 

After dealing with the De Noirs, however. Maria decides that she must save the valley from their wickedness. 

She, Robin, and the Parson return Paradise Hill to god, Sir Benjamin no longer profits off the sheep, and that’s it. It was a really long boring chapter about all the children of Silverydew cleaning it up and decorating it again with the statue of their Lady. They sing, and I think Sir Wrolf’s soul is released from the hell that is Moonacre Valley. 

Once this is done, Maria and Robin sneak into the Castle in the pine woods, ask Mr. Cock to pretty please stop stealing and he says: not until you give me back the pearls, and also your ancestor murdered my ancestor. 

Robin and Maria are chased, they find the tree hollow, with evidence that someone once lived there including a knife with a carved cock as the handle-

“Once upon a time this cave had been lived in. A hollow place in the wall was blackened, as though a fire had been lit there, and standing on a flat rock beside it was an iron pot that must have been used to cook stew in. And lying on the rock beside the pot was a huntsman's knife in a metal sheath, and a tarnished silver mug. Maria and Robin picked them up and looked at them, holding them close to their eyes in the dim light, and lo and behold, the sheath that held the knife was beautifully made in the shape of a cock, and upon the silver mug also there was traced the outline of a cock."

They also run through the tunnels that go through Moonacre Valley until they reach Merryweather Bay, where Maria finds a boat that belonged to Sir William. 

For Maria, this is enough evidence that Black William left on his own accord, and the magical sea unicorns brought the boat back to Merryweather Bay as proof. 

Once they’re home safe, Marmaduke asks Maria for butter kept in the well, because it's cold in there, and while Maria is more or less rifling through the Merryweather fridge, she finds an old box that has the pearls in them. 

Maria decides that she doesn’t want to give the pearls to the De Noirs, because they are wicked, and will just give them to the moon instead. Then, through a gold medal mental gymnastic routine, decides that she will give them over. 

“And yet Maria did not want to give those pearls away. She loved them far too much. She did not want to give them even to the moon, and as for giving them to the Black Men--well--she just couldn't do it. And yet she had to do it. Monsieur Cocq de Noir had promised that they would stop being wicked if she could give him proof that Black William had not been murdered by Sir Wrolf, but had withdrawn to a hermit's life by his own choice, and if she would give him the pearls. “That first condition was already fulfilled, for when he was pursuing her and Robin he would have seen Black William's hermitage with his own eyes, and the pearls he would have too if she could bring herself to give them to him. And then he would not be wicked any more and complete happiness would come to the Moonacre Valley. Somehow Maria did not doubt that if she kept her part of the bargain Monsieur Cocq de Noir would keep his. The wickedest of men have good in them somewhere, and remembering the direct look in his eyes she felt quite sure that he was not a man who would break his word. Yet she felt she could not give him these pearls, that she had found herself and that seemed already a part of her. “And then it struck her suddenly that if she gave her pearls to Monsieur Cocq de Noir she would, in a way, be giving them to the moon. For the moon belongs to the night, and what was more like night than Monsieur Cocq de Noir and his black pine forest? And the first Moon Princess had come out of the night-dark pine wood, bringing the pearls with her. The pearls belonged far more to the Black Men than they did to the Merryweathers.”

However, when she goes to the Castle, Mr. Cock takes the pearls, but doesn’t believe her about the boat. Then she hits him with the old “magic unicorns brought him into shore”, and he doesn’t believe that, but Maria is able to convince him to come out with her to the forest where she is sure the Little White Horse will appear, despite being rather elusive this whole time. They go out together, they see not only the Little White Horse, but a whole tidal wave of Sea Unicorn, and he’s like oh! You were telling the truth. 

But! That’s not the end! 

Maria still has to get Loveday and Sir Benjamin back together, and that is a whole other thing that deserves its own post and I will go into full detail on later. As well as some issues that I have with Robin Minette. 

The story ends with Loveday and Benjamin getting married, Robin and Maria getting married A YEAR LATER, and going on to have ten kids. While the book does not tell us Robin’s age, we know Maria is thirteen, meaning she is at least fourteen when she gets married, and who knows when they start having kids. Again, I will talk about this more later. However, despite common belief, this getting married at 12-14 was not common.

The book ends, however, with one of the most lovely quotes. 

“For sometimes in her dreams at night she stood beneath the branches of a mysterious wood, and looked down a moonlit glade, her eyes straining after something that she could not see. And when she woke up there would be tears on her cheeks because her longing had been unsatisfied. “Yet she was not unhappy because of this dream. “She knew that one day, when she was a very old woman, she would dream this dream for the last time, and in this last dream of all she would see the little white horse and he would not go away from her. He would come towards her, and she would run towards him, and he would carry her upon his back away and away, she did not quite know where, but to a good place, a place where she wanted to be.” 

To keep things brief (too late) I will be making other posts to complete my analysis of book, movie, and small mentions of the miniseries. 

And if you were thinking about reading the book: don’t.

First | Next

[psychotic4ghost]

Blood Under The Bridge A Story By Psychotic4Ghost

Chapter 6 - Arizona Heat

TW: Strong Language ♡ Fluff ♡ Implied sexual actions ♡ ♡ Masterlist | Chapter 5 | Chapter 7 ♡ WC: 3.4k ♡ A/N: Much Longer Chapter this time. I really wanted to work on upping my chapter lengths. I tend to write really short ones and I'm not a fan of that personally. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

╰┈➤

A few weeks had passed since the pool incident, Ghost’s bottle of bourbon was nearly gone now, by his own doing, and the rest of the days were going by as normal as they could for their kind of lifestyle. 

Price had asked Ghost to meet with him in his office, thinking it was about an upcoming mission, Ghost didn’t hesitate to show.

“Ms. Jamison. What are your thoughts?” Price asked as soon as Ghost shut the door, not even giving him a moment to sit down.

“What about her?” Ghost asked as he sat down finally. 

“What are your thoughts on her?” Price asked again.

“Not much really. She’s a good soldier, good with technology and knows her way around a gun.” Ghost shrugged his shoulders.

“Why do you look at her like she’s going to break then?” Price pushed, this was an interrogation in disguise. 

“I don’t.”

“Yes you do. I know your looks, Ghost.”

“And I think you’re full of shit. Is this the only reason you called me in?”

“No,” Price pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have an upcoming mission. Laswell pinged a Cartel, they have been shipping something they shouldn’t have their hands on and it is our job to find out what and stop them. I need to know if you think Jamison is ready.” 

“She is.” 

“That’s it?” Price sighed. “I know you’re a man of few words but good lord, Simon, give me a little more.” 

“I’m not sure what you’re expecting.” 

Price sighed an even bigger sigh this time, “Never mind. Gather the team for a briefing. Meet in the hall in 10.” Price pushed up and out of his chair, opening the door for Ghost to take his leave. 

                                                  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“We have a new assignment. Laswell has tasked us with finding this Cartel. They go by the name ‘Red Continuar’ and it’s our job to locate them. Word of mouth is that they have a large weapons cache, one that’s far too big for a group their size. We need to locate them, rid of the weapons and shut them down. Any questions?” Price informed the small group as he clicked the slides of his power point.

“Where are they?” Soap asked, it was a vital question. Whenever the team would leave the country, they always wanted to be notified before launch day.

“The states, just off of the Arizona border. There’s a city called Tuscan that borders Mexico and we think they’ve been in and out of the state, smuggling their weapon cache into Mexico.”

“Always wanted to visit Arizona.” Soap added.

“Why? Isn’t it one of the hottest states? You complained in Texas, mate. You aren’t gonna do well there.” Gaz poked fun at Soap.

After the briefing, the team began packing their gear, loading the trucks and aircrafts. “I’ve never been to the states.” Mykie interjected into the quiet air surrounding her and her Lieutenant. 

“It’s not much, boring in my opinion.” Ghost added.

“Really? How many times have you been?” She asked further. 

“Loads of times, never Arizona though.” The two continued to throw bag after bag into one of the trucks before it was loaded onto the aircraft. The team of men that was recruited to aid the 141 were lugging big crates of weapons and gear onto the plane beside Ghost and Mykie. 

“Ladies first.” Ghost said as he motioned for Mykie to climb aboard before the rest of the boys. The aircraft was roomy but still small, it had a few seats along both walls and a small cockpit. 

“Okay, we’ll be in here for a good amount of time. The flight should be about 12 hours to the base in Arizona. So get comfy and no picking fights.” Price eyed Soap with his last thought. 

Mykie took a window seat, minding her own business when a large figure filled the seat next to her. “Oh, Ghost. I thought you’d wanna sit alone.” Mykie mentioned as she turned to look at him. 

“Not much of an option.” Ghost said as he eyed the few seats on the smaller aircraft. Mykie nodded before turning to look out the window again. “Do you wanna watch a movie?” Mykie bravely asked the burly man to her left. 

“I’m not really into movies.” 

“Oh c’mon, Ghost. Just one. Humor me.” Mykie eventually got her way as Ghost let out a sigh, he picked up the pair of headphones Mykie handed him and placed them on his head, over his mask. Mykie grabbed her own pair and placed them on her head as well. She tapped on her phone a few times before the big Lionsgate logo popped up on the small monitor in front of the two. “What is this?” Ghost asked, a little louder than he anticipated. 

“Just watch, you’ll like it.” Mykie shushed as she pulled her feet up onto her seat, getting comfy. Ghost watched her out of the corner of his eye as she wiggled her way into a ball on the seat. She was so tiny next to him, he wondered how someone so small could make it this far in the military of any kind. 

The movie played on and Ghost found himself rather impressed with the movie. He was intrigued by the plot and the fighting and gun handling was shockingly spot on, especially to his trained eye. 

“Why did they kill the dog? Was that necessary?” Ghost asked as he slipped the headphones off and into his lap.

“Ghost, that was like, the first scene and you’re still hung up on it?” Mykie giggled. “I watched you cover your eyes, you almost grabbed my hand.” Ghost pointed out, causing Mykie to blush a deep crimson. 

“I just don’t like animal death. But anyway, it was to show the kind of person John Wick is. He just wanted to be left alone and enjoy his life but he was pushed to the brink over yet another death in his life. What did you think of the movie though?” Mykie asked as she leaned towards him a little. 

“It was weirdly good. Apart from the dog. That punk who killed the dog made me really mad. Their attention to the guns though was really good. Was this actor ex-military?” Ghost asked, intrigued by the actor. 

“Not that I’m aware of, no. Just a really good actor.” Mykie smiled. 

“Are there more?” Ghost asked as he picked the headphones back up. “There’s three in total, we definitely have the time.” The smile never left Mykie’s face as she booted up the second movie, happy he was enjoying something other than being alone. 

After the three movies, they finally shut off the monitor, the sun was gone by now and Mykie was growing tired. Without thinking much, she curled up into a tighter ball, her pillow wedged in her grasp as she laid up against the back of her seat with her knees up. Her knees lightly brushed against Ghost’s arm that was hung over the edge of the arm rest. 

“Sorry, I can move.” Ghost said as he felt her nudge his arm.

“You’re fine. Unless you want to.” Mykie said, her eyes closed and her voice soft. Ghost didn’t know how to react, he looked at her soft features, the soldier he usually saw wasn’t there, instead it was just a girl. The fact that she really wasn’t her father was coming to full light for Ghost as he watched her doze off. 

Sleep didn’t come easy for Ghost. Instead he opted for ‘keeping guard’, reasoning with himself that someone had to watch over the team as they slept, even though that wasn’t the case, if something were to happen to the plane, it’d be too late for him to react. But telling himself that helped him stay sane as he watched Mykie’s sleeping figure. 

A few hours had passed, the sun hadn’t even begun to peek over the horizon when Mykie stirred awake. She was greeted by Ghost’s eyes searching her frantically as she sat up right. 

“Mornin’.” Mykie grumbled as she stretched her arms out.

“It’s not quite mornin’ yet, but mornin’ to you too.” Ghost’s voice was deep, he had managed to grab an hour or two of shut eye before waking up again, due to a nightmare he was used to having by now. 

“Oh, geez what time is it?” Mykie looked for her phone in the dim lighting offered through the small windows of the plane. 

“About 3am. Roughly.” Ghost answered as he checked his watch. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Mykie questioned as she reached for her water bottle, feeling rather parched. 

“‘Bout an hour or two…enough.” Ghost grumbled, at some point during the night while there were no peeking eyes, Ghost changed to a skull printed balaclava instead of the hard plastic skull he usually sported. 

“Your mask changed.” Mykie pointed out. 

“Hm, oh yeah. The other one gets uncomfortable after a while, so I thought I’d switch.”

“Did you move from this spot once while I was asleep?” Mykie continued to question him. 

“N-no. Didn’t see a reason to.” Ghost looked away at the rest of the plane, taking in the rest of his team, still sound asleep. 

“Hm, well I need to stretch, you should too.” Mykie stood from her seat and attempted to shimmy past the large man sitting next to her, blocking the aisle. Unfortunately for the both of them, his knees were taking too much space and she fell forward. Each arm propped out in front of her, straddling his head, her breasts were parallel with his face. “Fuck sorry. I should have just asked.” panic filled Mykie as she pushed herself away from him abruptly. She scurried down the aisle of the plane as fast as she could without waking the others, locking herself in the tiny bathroom.

Ghost cheeks were a bright shade of pink. He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding the moment he heard the bathroom door shut. It had been awhile since a woman had been that close to him, having breasts, clothed or not, that close to his face made his heart race. And it wasn’t just anyone either, it was Mykie. Someone, though he tried to suppress the thought, he actually had an attraction to. He didn’t know what the feeling was yet, but it was definitely an attraction. 

“Saw that.” Price said in a low tone in the aisle over. 

“Shut it.” Ghost growled lowly. 

Price threw his hands up in a defensive manner before placing his fisherman hat back over his eyes. His feet hung over the armrest while his head rested on the other one closest to the window. 

Once Mykie returned she stayed rather quiet. She waited for Ghost to stand up before she tried to crawl back into her seat. Ghost took his turn in the restroom once she returned. He clicked the door shut, heart still racing. 

Mykie was doing everything in her power to hide the blush she still felt. The thoughts that flew through her brain felt wrong and dirty in more ways than one. He was her Lieutenant, having those thoughts should be illegal, she thought. 

“Why didn’t you ask him to move the first time?” Price asked as he moved his hat from his face. 

“I-you saw?” Mykie’s blush returned, this time deeper.

“Course I did, I’m right here. Careful with your thoughts Mykie. Don’t want you making any mistakes now.” Price said as he made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with her. 

“Would that really be that much of a mistake?” Mykie fought back, defiance in her voice. 

Price chuckled at her response, “I guess that’s up to you, huh?” Price placed his hat back over his face just as the bathroom door clicked open. Ghost found his seat again and the two refused to make eye contact for the rest of the flight. 

                                               ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The November Arizona heat slapped the team across the face, the winds felt like opening an oven for the first time. The bright sun felt as if it was only six meters from the tops of their heads. 

“This is miserable.” Soap complained as they stepped off the plane. 

“I feel like I’m being baked.” Gaz added. 

The team looked over at Ghost who was still in his usual clothing, his black long sleeve, jeans, boots and a full coverage black balaclava and the plastic skull covering. “How are you not melting, LT?” Soap asked, a joking fear rattled in his voice. 

“S’not that bad.” Ghost said with a shrug before heading around to the back of the plane. They had just landed at the Luke Airforce Base, a base in Arizona. During the second world war it was the largest fighter training base in the Air Corps. The place they would call home for as long as this mission would take them. They planned for a month max. 

“I wanna sight see.” Mykie mentioned as she lugged some heavy armory cases to their new home. 

“What’s there to see? It’s a desert.” Soap groaned as he did the same. 

Gaz chuckled at the conversation, “There’s actually a lot, it’s just all in the city or in the mountains.”

“Have you been here?” Mykie asked. 

“No, but I usually like to read up on places we go. Lot’s of cool rocks to see.” 

The three of them continued to lug case after case of weaponry while Price and Ghost made conversation with the man running the base. Captain Jax Sullivan, head of the Air Base, the one who would be hosting their stay. 

“This is the rest of the team. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John “Soap” MacTavish and our newest and youngest, Mykie Jamison.” Price introduced the team one by one. 

“No codename for the youngin?” Sullivan asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Not yet sir.” Mykie tagged in, she really hadn’t been given a name yet. Her father was known as Bull, she wanted nothing to do with that. 

“Knew you’re father.” Sullivan said coolly. “He was a…colorful one. Hope you aren’t the same.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it sir.” Mykie said as she followed the man along with her group. 

Sullivan merely nodded before he showed the teams round the base. It wasn’t a huge base, it was actually really close to civilization too. The nearest town being only a mile away. The captain showed the team to their rooms, they were shared bunks unfortunately, not like their private rooms back at their base. 

“I know it isn’t much in the way of privacy but I hope that won’t be too much of an inconvenience.” 

“Not at all, Captain.” Price said as he set his duffle bag down by the first bunk. Gaz and Soap immediately rushed for bunks, fighting to secure the bunk of their choice. There were three bunks, meaning Price had his own while the other four had to figure it out. Soap seemed to have lost the fight, though no one could really tell who wanted top or bottom. Soap flung his duffle upwards to the top bunk while Gaz set his down on the bottom, rather contently. 

“I should probably take the top huh, I feel like being as tall as you are can’t be comfortable on the top.” Mykie suggested as she walked towards the only other available bunk. 

“You’d be correct.” Ghost nodded as he set his duffle down like the rest. Ghost was significantly taller than everyone in the room, aside for Captain Sullivan who seemed to have an inch or two on Ghost. Maybe they were the same height, Mykie couldn’t really tell at her much much lower height. 

Naturally, these bunks didn’t have ladders, meaning Mykie had to climb up the posts at the end of the bed. It was a difficult feat but she managed. The team decided to turn in for the day as the sun was beginning to set and the plane ride really wiped them out. They were all dealing with jet lag on top of a huge time zone difference. 

“We have today and tomorrow to get acclimated to the time zone change. After that, we are jumping right into the mission. Heard?” Price announced as Captain Sullivan shut their bunk room door. The room was a decent size, you could fit at least three more bunks in the space alone. But in place of more bunks, was a desk and two small round tables, each sporting four foldable chairs. Everyone acknowledged their captain before readying for bed. 

The men held no hesitation as they stripped down to their boxers. Mykie did her best to avert her eyes, curiosity did peek in her mind though as they pulled their shirts over their heads. The need to peek was quickly smashed as Gaz and Soap began roughhousing again, causing Mykie to let out a sigh of relief mixed with mild irritation. 

She hopped off her bunk with a soft thud and headed for the door. “Goin’ for a walk. Be back in 30.” Mykie announced mainly to her Captain and Lieutenant. Price nodded his head but Ghost stood from his bunk, “Care for some company?” He offered. Mykie nodded her head before pulling the door open. 

The walk was silent at first, neither knew what to say. The air around the two had been awkward since their shared experience after Ghost blew up at her. 

“I’m still sorry for the things I said to you.” Ghost spoke lowly, staring at his feet. 

Mykie thought for a moment, also watching her feet as she walked. She tilted her head towards the sky, inhaling the heat. “I know. - I want to actually be friends, Ghost.” 

“Why?” Ghost asked, shocked as he turned his head to look at her. 

“I dunno. It feels like we should be. With what we both endured with my father…and just how we turned out. We aren’t ones to really have friends so I think it would be a good idea.” Mykie paused for a moment, really hearing the words leaving her mouth. “I-if you want to! I-I don’t mean to force the idea or the action even. I, um. Just thought it might…be a good idea…” She rubbed the sides of her arms in embarrassment. “You can tell me no…” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” Ghost said coolly. 

It was Mykie’s turn to snap her head towards him in shock. “Oh, really?” It was a genuine question, she definitely didn’t expect that response, but honestly, she didn’t really know what to think as her emotions took the wheel over her logic for that entire conversation. “Can a lieutenant and private even be more than just colleagues?” Mykie asked, not really thinking of her wording. 

“You’re not asking me on a date are you, Rookie?” Ghost chuckled, Mykie turned a bright shade of pink, praising the lack of sun to show off the blush. “We’re just friends, Mykie. Dating is different. Especially between a Lieutenant and a private. But again, just friends so we’re fine.” 

“R-right.” The walk was mostly quiet, aside from Ghost asking the occasional question about her life. After the allotted 30 minutes, they returned to the bunker and turned in for the night. 

                                                 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The Arizona heat beat down on the team as they sat around in their military issue tent for their meeting that afternoon. 

“This Cartel owns a large mansion in the hills of Phoenix, Ghost and Mykie will go undercover as a couple, enter the party that the Cartel is hosting tonight and gather intel. Soap, Gaz, and myself will stand watch nearby. If anything breaks out, we will be the backup. Though, this should remain purely intel gathering. Any questions?” 

“Why does Ghost get to play boyfriend?” Soap crossed his arms in a boyish manner. 

“Have you done undercover ops before, Soap?” Price asked even though he knew the answer.

“No…Fine point made!” Soap huffed causing the room to laugh. 

“I appreciate you wanting to be my date though, Soap.” Mykie gave him a gentle tap on his arm accompanied by a soft smile. “Wanna be more than that.” He grumbled mainly to himself. 

“Anyway, any real questions?” Price asked the group. 

“What kind of attire? How formal is this event?” Mykie asked as she straightened back up in her seat. 

“Pretty formal. Keep the accents, but Mykie, shift more Londoner than Scotts. It’ll make you seem higher class, no offense.” Price mentioned. 

“None taken, sir.” Mykie said in her best London accent, impressing the boys around her. As soon as the sun set, the team was readying up for the mission at hand.

                                                ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[plasmasimagination]

Hey if your still doing the match up event then I suppose if it isn’t too much trouble that I could have a go?

Fandom; Honkai Star Rail

I'm a INTJ 8w9 Aquarius cis boy who likes to draw as a hobby, i'm a confident person that’s also lazy but smart, others say I’m ‘Smart but lazy’ ‘Cold and Challenging’ and ‘Too Emotionally Reserved’ that last one is true, I don’t like opening up about my emotions and tend to be just unemotional or mask my real emotions with whatever the person wants be to feel.

I like playing fighting games, I take Taekowndo lessons, and I love to fight people. I also love comic books, specifically SpiderMan. I love the cold and just sleeping in my bed, cuddling up to the Corner and watching some YT videos

I really fuckin hate loud people and tend to get violent around them, I hate people that try to make me socialize, and I despise trying to be controlled. Oh! I’m also a major fucking asshole in the morning, like ‘I will beat you till your a bloody corpse’ type of asshole/grumpy.

I don’t have or know my love language.. but I suppose if there pretty laid back and isn’t afraid to fight, I’d love that? Idk.

I have an interest in Martial Arts, Drawing, Voice Acting, Making Stories, and Alternate Universes/Timelines (like the Sans Au’s)

(If it’s possible could I be paired up with a woman from HSR and Genshin? No worries if not just pair me up with someone form Honkai Star Rail or HSR)

If you want a name for me then just use Zeo or Zero

OH LORDY LORD! WE HAVE A GUY IN THE INBOX, WHAT A PLEASURE!!

Jokes aside I'm glad my writting has reached wider audiences and I'm more than happy to write for you, and as your matchup.....

.

.

.

For hsr- TOPAZ

And

for genshin- RAIDEN

Hsr- TOPAZ

I know I know, you might be like "Oh but plasma! Why the hell would you match me up with topaz??? She isn't even that good for me!"

BUT LISTEN.

I think you two would go very nicely together. The personalities somehow just match in like a piece of puzzle.

Topaz might seem professional and distant at first but trust me as she would warm up to you that she'll be very cooperative and fun to be around

she'll also be able to read you like a book, like she can literally figure out how you're feeling based on small details in your body language/face expression etc.

I think you two would grow be get along very well and work as a team

You two confident fellas would freaking take over the world

Like you two would be a real power couple together. Like with her wits and with your power...phewww you two would go insane

Besides, I think she could handle you in every way very well.

Topaz is a badass and not afraid to show it off, she's a great fighter and very confident in her skill and job.

And so, in my opinion, you two would be chefs kiss

Genshin- RAIDEN

What can I say, you attract girl bosses.

Do I really have to comment much on this?

I just think that Eis calm dementor could go well with your ticking bomb attitude

Even though ei is not much of a talker, she would always listen to you and try to understand you, even tho her point of view might be a bit...different she'll try her best!!....

And you two introverts can always just stay inside and enjoy your little alone time tch tch (/j)

She would also be very interested in your fighting skills and be probably amazed by it at some point

The only problem i see here would be that you're both emotionally reserved so I guess couples therapy ...?

[bees-tornado]

about me/blog info

introduction, before you follow, fandom stuff, etc. below the cut!

(star dividers courtesy of saradika)

hi everyone, i'm bees! here's some info about me/my blog:

i usually go by bees (he/him). please feel free to call me by name or whatever silly little nicknames you can think of.

if you know me irl no you don't. this is my happy little cringe fandom habitat <3

i love video games (mostly Nintendo and especially Pokemon/Fire Emblem) and anime (mostly Shounen and Shoujo), and most of the things i reblog are fanart and posts i think are funny

Fire Emblem: Three Houses is my favorite game of all time, and i post about it incessantly (more about this later)

Bernadetta von Varley is my favorite character of all time and i love her dearly and also she is my wife 💜

you can learn more about my favorite things here!

it is very difficult for me to come out of my shell and be myself (even in a space like this), but i returned to tumblr because i want to try to have fun and be cringe and be free, and i'm trying my best every day <3

PLEEEAAASE feel free to send asks/tag me/etc., especially if we're mutuals, and especially about my favorite things! i am far too anxious to initiate anything but i like interacting with people :)

on that note please be patient with me sometimes it takes me a long time to respond to things but I INTEND TO I PROMISE

i don't post art much but when i do you can find it under #my art

taken <3

before you follow (it's not too long i promise)

please don't follow me if you're a minor. i'm hesitant to mark this blog explicitly as 18+ because i don't really post nfsw stuff here besides joke text posts, but i don't want minors here regardless, sorry!

this is a 🏳️‍⚧️ trans friendly blog 🏳️‍⚧️

i don't do DNI's, but i do block/softblock/unfollow/blacklist/filter freely

i tend to avoid fandom discourse, including proship/anti/etc. discourse. my policy is that if i'm uncomfortable with a particular type of fandom content, i will fall back on my previous bullet point as necessary. the same goes for when i see people engaging in bullying and harassment over fandom stuff

this is not a spoiler-free blog, especially for FE3H and Naruto. i will occasionally tag spoilers (usually for jjba and xenoblade), but not consistently

FE3H-specific stuff

please please PLEASE talk to me about Fire Emblem: Three Houses for the Nintendo Switch you're not bothering me i promise

Bernie and Sylvain are my favorite guys i think they're neat

i'm too old and tired for fe3h lord discourse. i have my own favorites and opinions, but i tend to avoid following blogs that post aggressive or uncharitable takes about the main lords

i came from twitter where Bernadetta would only really trend for negative reasons, so please understand that i'm sensitive about the way people talk about her and her fans. no hard feelings if you don't like her, and i actually agree with a lot of criticism about her writing, but i try to keep anything too mean out of sight

That's it for now! Thanks for reading/skimming/whatever you just did, and I hope you'll stick around!

[romerona]

Chapter 3: The tour of the temple.

~In which the daughter of the Lord of Darkness who was born with the sole purpose of destroying the universe falls in love with Peter Parker~

——————

There weren't many things Carina disliked; loud chewing, littering, animal cruelty or cruelty in general, violence and lastly the sorcerer's robes. 

Carina didn't necessarily hate them but she didn't love them either.

It starts with the novice robes, which are a light colour, white and light grey, the people who are starting to learn about the mystic arts wear them and as they progress with their studies, the robe's colours get darker. Children wear novice robes. Carina is not a fan of grey but she could deal with it because it was almost white and she likes white because it reminded her of white paper where she could paint whatever she wanted. Although she knows she can't draw in her robes, it was nice to say fantasy about what she would paint and modify if she could, but that's beside the point... 

Carina through the day have a few responsibilities, other than go to school she's expected to help around the temple in whatever was needed, sometimes is to fold towels, or cut vegetables for dinner or help the librarian accommodate books or sew a few robes (two of her favorites activities) or whenever there is a newcomer, she's the one in charge of handing the awful novice robes to them and guiding them around the Sanctum, just like today. 

Knocking on the door of a new student, Carina waited for the door to open looking around the empty hall mindlessly, once the door opened she was pleasantly surprised by who was on the other side of it.

 "Oh, she let you stay?" Asked Carina, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

It was the Strange man, having a good look at him he looked— for lack of better words— homeless, his hair was a mess, his beard wasn't trimmed and his clothes looked shabby. 

But who is she to judge? Maybe he was indeed homeless, the Kamar Taj accepted everyone who has the will to stay and learn. 

"And you have purple eyes." He said making Carina lower them for a moment, hand coming to fidget with the necklace for a second, she wasn't ashamed of her eyes, she liked them, but it was rather embarrassing when people point them out which is stupid because that's often the first thing they notice about her, however most people think they are contact lenses. 

"Namaste." She shook off the embarrassment, pressed her hand to her chest and nodded in greeting with a polite smile. "My name is Carina Agamotto." 

"Stephen Strange." Introducing himself, with a small nod, he looked confused before glancing at the robes on her arms. "Are those for me?" 

"Ah, yes." She holds the clothes forward for him to take. "I'm supposed to take you to the Ancient One and then to the hall." 

"The hall?" Asked Stephen, frowning in confusion before scoffing. "What is this High School?"

"Uh- no." Carina blinked in confusion, she knew what high school was but she didn't understand what it got to do with anything."In the hall we have Breakfast. Lunch. Supper. The occasional Banquet–" 

"Yeah yeah, I got it the first time," Strange said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. 

"All right, I'll wait for you." She sent him another polite smile while he looked at her weirdly before closing the doors. 

First impression... not the best but not the worst, he is new to all this and Carina understands that he must be a little confused and feeling out of place like most people are in their first days. She normally tries to keep her opinion to herself until getting to know the person further. 

Carina likes doing that, learning about new people, and new students. She liked talking to them with the knowledge that they had no idea who she was, it was refreshing, simple. Until they start their classes, start reading and putting two and two, they were quick to learn who she is, for her second name is famous around here. 

After a couple of minutes, Strange came out of his dormitory wearing the novice robes, he looked cleaner but somehow he still looks homeless— it has to be the beard. 

Keep it to yourself, Carina thought and gave him a tight smile.

"What? Is something wrong?" Asked Strange, looking down at his robes. 

 "No, not really, I- well, nothing." She cleared her throat, hoisting her bag over her shoulder, wincing as she did. "Let's go, she's waiting." 

The sanctum is a relatively large place with several courtyards, halls and tricky stairs that lead to the roof where the masters like to teach, for the beginners the sanctum is like a labyrinth for Carina it was a solved puzzled, she knew all the ins and outs of the temple better than anyone else, maybe even better than the Sorcerer Supreme. 

Carina was explaining to Strange the easiest way to move from his dormitory to the courtyard, where he could easily find his way around the temple. 

"Your dormitory is on the north side of the sanctum," Carina explained as they walked through the halls. "This wing is represented by the symbol of a Yeti just before the hallway starts, it's something that looks like—" 

"Yeti?" Huffs Strange, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief and confusion. "Are you telling me the abominable snowman is real now?"

"There's a colony of yeti's in the depths of the Himalayas not far from here," Carina told him with a nod. "Though don't share this information with anyone else, it's kind of a secret, you know, to protect their culture." 

Strange gave her an unamused look. "You're pulling my hair." 

"I'm not." 

"Then if it's so much of a secret how do you know?" 

"I..." Carina debated if she should tell him that the Ancient One once took her to the pal of the mountain and they accidentally came across those creatures, it was from afar but it still counts. She shouldn't right? But she didn't want to seem like a liar either. "Because I've met them before." 

"Where? Your dreams?" Stephen scoffs, rolling his eyes as they approach the Antarala.

Carina could tell he wasn't believing her, which made her look up at him. "You know, for someone who has travelled through the multiverse you're still very closed-minded." 

There was a couple of seconds of silence, the steps and distant chatter were the only sounds echoing through. 

"It's different." Said Strange

"How so?" 

"Because you're asking me to believe in a fairytale monster." 

"Most fairytales are based on something." 

"Yeah, tales, it's written on the name." 

Carina huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're so stubborn and closed-minded." 

"You don't even know—"

"We're here." Carina cut him off, motioning to the wooden entrance. "Keep your mind open Mr Strange." 

"It's Doctor." Mutter the man as he moved through the threshold. 

Carina moved back, taking a seat against a pillar using a hand to massage her strangely sore shoulder. Her stomach grumbled making her cringe, it was begging her for food but she still needed to wait for Strange to have breakfast. 

Having nothing better to do while waiting for Strange, Carina took her sketchbook, and a few coloured pencils out of her satchel and began tracing lines on the white paper hoping inspiration hit her.

Carina liked drawing and painting. In the blank page of the sketchbook, she could convey her ideas, express emotion, and have complete control of her art.

In one line, she thought about the dress she saw in the latest magazine, another line she thought about the pretty colours of the sunset from the night before, pink and purple, in another she thought about the stars that painted the dark sky. 

Once done, she hold it up for the last judgment... it was god awful. She ripped the page off and crumbled it. 

She wanted to start again. Do it better. 

"Namaste Carina." Said a familiar voice made her snap her head upwards. "के तपाईंले अहिलेसम्म नाश्ता गर्नुभयो?"

It was the Ancient One, she was smiling down at her, Stephen behind her. 

"अह अहिले सम्म छैन." Carina smiled at her, standing up. "म पर्खिरहेको थिएँ Stephen जाने." 

"Ah well, you better go now, you need a full stomach to start the day." Said the sorcerer, motioning in the direction where the hall is. "And make sure to tell Strange our rules on the way." 

Carina nodded, packing her things back into her satchel. "Sure."

"Have a nice day, little star, remember to come by after your classes." The ancient one moved out of the way to let Stephen walkthrough. "Mr Strange, your classes will start in a few weeks— 

"Wait— How long is a few weeks?"

"— In the meantime, meditate."

With a last look towards Carina, the older Sorcerer turned back inside, leaving Stephen and her alone. 

"Come on, Doctor." Carina urged, hiking her bag to her shoulder once again. "I need my morning tea."

Carina started to walk toward the hall, leaving Stephen to shuffle after her with a loud sigh. "Just call me Stephen."

"Alright Stephen, If you're going to stay here there are a few things you should know. A few rules, although there aren't many they are rather important—"

"I have a question." Stephen interrupted her as they walked through the courtyard. "Why did the Ancient One send you to do this? I mean how old are you Nine? Ten?" 

Carina pursed her lips, she had been asked that question countless times before. And although it is slightly irritating, there was truth and logic to Stephens's words and she was a girl of logic for the most part. "I know I might not seem adequate to give a tour but I assure you, I am." 

Stephen scoffs. "Are you thought?" 

"Well, I've been here my entire life, that makes me the most fitting for the job, don't you think?" Carina said with a shrug, making him frown. 

"What do you mean your entire life?" He asks, as a group of advanced students pass through, Carina sends them a quick polite smile. 

"Never you mind, just know that I am more than capable." She told him, looking around the open space. "Y'know, I'm surprised she let you stay after the way she rejected you, I've never seen anyone being rejected by her and then being thrown away like that, I mean that was a proper misfortune..."

She trails off when she notices the narrow eyes of the doctor. "Misfortune is something constant in my life."

Carina's tongue was itching to ask what he meant by that, but of course she knew it was none of her business so she kept quiet. 

"Well, I always thought things happen for a reason." Carina started as they arrived at the main hall. "If whatever happened hadn't happened you wouldn't be here." 

Strange muttered something under his breath, Carina didn't catch what it was as the noise filled her ears instead.

The dining hall was packed with people— as expected at that hour, Carina nudged Stephen who was observing the space before moving forward through the long wooden tables and people to get to the centre of the room where a circular table was filled with different types of foods and in another small table near that one, the drinks and tea were severed. 

"Here." She grabbed a plate from the side and gave it to Stephen before taking one of her own. "I know you must be hungry so eat as much as your heart desires." 

Strange pauses from his gaze and turns to the girl. "What?"

But Carina has moved around the table already, careful not to knock into someone. She grabbed a couple of strawberries, her favourite fruit and Chiya tea with a little milk. She usually had a light breakfast to wait for the mid-day to eat a fried delight. 

Finishing, she steps on her tiptoes to search for Stephen. He was near the beverage table, a frown on his face as he search for something. 

"What are you looking for?" Asked Carina once she arrived at his side, gazing at the table. 

"Coffee." Said Strange, not missing a beat. "I don't see it anywhere here, but oddly enough I see a few people with Starbucks cups over there." 

"Well, they are advanced students and they can open a portal to a coffee shop," Carina told him, moving to the other side of the table.

"Great," Stephen mutters with a sigh. "So, there isn't any?" 

"There is." Carina nodded, taking a hold of the silver pot and giving it to Steven who mumbled a thank you. "But I've heard from the older masters it's not good, that's why many get it elsewhere, if you want caffeine I suggest black tea." 

"I'll take my chances." 

After he pours himself a cup, Carina nudge him with her arm for him to follow her, they moved through the people and found a seat at the end of one of the tables. 

"So..." Carina started, as she grabbed one of her strawberries. "You were a doctor?" 

"Still am, according to the New York AMA board," Stephen replied, digging into his breakfast, eggs, bacon, bread, a standard western breakfast. 

"What type?" She asked. 

"Neurosurgeon."

Carina hummed as she drank her tea and nodded. "Cool... so you've saved many people's lives?" 

"Perfect record." Stephen's fist tightened against the fork he was using.

"Woah, that's impressive, you must have been the best surgeon around then." She told him with eyes shining in marvel, while mindlessly taking a strawberry off her plate. 

Stephen didn't say anything back to her, his eyes were on his breakfast, his lips pursed, eyebrows narrowing, an odd look on his face between annoyance and anger. 

Carina's eyes wander to his hands, which were all scared and shaking, making her think of her own.  

"What happened to your hands?" She asked, tilting her head to get a better look at them. 

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to ask invasive questions?" Stephen snapped, narrowing his eyes at her. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it was an invasive question," Carina said, lowering her eyes guiltily, a hand coming to touch the green stone. 

Stephen huff's hotly, crossing his arm over his chest. "Where are your parents anyway, do they usually let you walk around with strangers?" 

"My mom's dead," Carina murmured, pursing her lips. "My dad... I don't know." 

There was a tense pause, Carina usually didn't like to think about her parents, she knew that her mother, Moira Agamotto, was a great sorcerer who died giving birth to her, it made her sad but Carina knows it was not her fault – as the Ancient one once told her— it was nature. Her father, on the other hand, was a faceless character in her books, Carina had zero clue who he was, she asked a couple of times only to be brushed off, and ignored. 

She heard Stephen curse under his breath. "I... I'm sorry, It was rude of —"

"You didn't know." Carina shrugged, and she gave him a polite smile. "It's okay, I'm used to that question anyway, but I am truly sorry to have asked about your hands, I just thought they look a bit similar to mine." 

She holds her banged hands up, letting him see them. "I've got a cut that's healing, it'll probably scar and I thought it was nice that we are kind of the same..." 

Stephen looks at her hands for a moment before his eyes shift to Carina with the tiniest smile. "I suppose we are." 

He grabbed his coffee cup and brought it to his lips, his face scrunched in disgust. "That's awful." 

"Told you so and sugar won't help."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. Please, let me know if you want to be tagged.