#I really had to make this scene happen

[cicide76536]

"We are whole."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

This wine tastes like pigs blood!

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[soosoosoup]

Chord Striker Au by @thatbennybee

[yukipri]

For curiosity's sake...

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

*rolls up 15 years late with Avatar the Last Airbender thoughts*

So I've been rewatching clips from the show lately to refresh my memory while I'm writing my Zuko Alone fanfic. And last night I rewatched the clip where Iroh teaches Zuko how to redirect lightning and I have had thoughts about this scene for years so I might as well finally throw them into the void of tumblr.

So, this scene is insane to me, because at the end of learning how he could-hypothetically- redirect lightning, Zuko looks at Iroh and, completely seriously says "okay I'm ready to try it with the real thing now". Like, Zuko, the boy with a massive scar on his face from where his father burned him just looks at his uncle and says, "shoot me with lightning".

And yes, he's 16 and not thinking but that's part of the point because the amount of blind, complete trust Zuko has in Iroh to look at him and say "shoot lightning at me" after the insane trauma he had at the hands of his own father- that is WILD to me. Zuko literally trusts Iroh so much that he just assumes, without even having to think about it, that no matter how volatile and unpredictable the lightning is, Iroh won't hurt him because Zuko cannot fathom his uncle hurting him.

And of course, Iroh's appalled because Zuko's standing there with a massive scar on his face from when his father misused firebending against him and likewise, Iroh cannot fathom hurting Zuko. And since IROH knows how volatile and unpredictable lightning is and how it could literally kill his son nephew he is absolutely NOT going to use it just to let Zuko practice redirecting lightning, but he's so flabbergasted that Zuko would even ask him that that he just kind of splutters angrily that he will ABSOLUTELY NOT shoot lightning at Zuko. (it's also just another layer of how messed up Ozai is because he shot lightning at Zuko without a second thought later)

But I hope Iroh thought about it later and realized the amount of pure, unthinking trust Zuko has in him because ;-; the child didn't even THINK about it. "Okay uncle shoot lightning at me now. I know I'll be safe because it's you." I love them so much 😭😭

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 5

Summary - Two and a half moons after (Y/N)'s arrival in Kingslanding he must grapple with his new title as a dragonlord, wedding festivites, his grandsire's sudden illness, and his relationship with his father. The prince tries to balance all of this as the royal wedding looms over him.

Warnings - minor injuries, general HOTD warnings, drinking, canon character death, consummation scene (its minor and a fade to black)

I have decided to mold the lore to my own desires because there is almost next to nothing on House Royce during this time period. Also was going to break this into two parts because its so long but wanted all the wedding festvites to take place during one chapter.

(Y/N) winced as the maester prodded at his nose, the maester made humming noises as he examined the prince’s injuries. He applied a few plaster’s to (Y/N)’s nose, before wrapping it in soaked wool. 

“His nose shall heal fine, my prince.” 

Daemon nodded, “Thank you, you may go.” 

The maester bowed to the two princes, gathering his supplies and leaving (Y/N) alone with his father. Daemon watched as the man left the room, and waited until the doors were shut before turning on his son. He crossed his arms leaning back against a chair, and (Y/N) braced himself for a lecture. 

“How are you feeling?” 

(Y/N) blinked, “What?” 

Daemon pushed himself off the chair, making his way over toward (Y/N). He slowly reache

d his hand out, gently tracing the scratches and bruises on (Y/N)’s face, and (Y/N) was too shocked at his father’s actions to react. “Are you in pain?” 

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) said, looking up at his father. “I’ve had worse.” 

Daemon frowned, and (Y/N) wondered how much his mother had told him of his childhood mishaps. “What were you doing so far off Rosby Road?” 

(Y/N) flushed, “I- uh, snuck out.” 

“You snuck out?” His father’s face lit up, and he took a step back laughing and shaking his head. “How did your uncle react?” 

“Well he doubled my guard for one.” (Y/N) said, remembering his Uncle’s fury when (Y/N) showed up the next morning, face covered in blood and dirt. He had some choice words for the young heir, and (Y/N) was confident Daemon had heard his brother’s opinion on the matter as soon as he stepped foot into the keep. “But he was more interested in the dragon than my misbehavior.” 

“Ah,” Daemon smirked. “Yes, it must have been quite a shock.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes at his father, “I know you did something.” 

“What did I do, (Y/N)?” Daemon asked, raising an eyebrow at his son. “I did not drag Vermithor to you, or you to him for that matter. Vermithor made his choice.” 

“And it’s just a coincidence that as soon as you leave for Dragonstone, Vermithor leaves and seeks me out randomly.” 

“Perhaps it was fate.” Daemon shrugged. 

“You don’t expect me to believe that.” 

Daemon approached (Y/N), placed his hands on his shoulders. “It does not matter what you believe, all that matters are the facts. And the facts are that you have claimed Vermithor, you should be proud.” 

“I did not wish to claim a dragon, I never have.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s face hardened. 

“You are my son.” Daemon said, and (Y/N) hissed as his grip on his shoulder tightened. “You are a dragon, you cannot escape that.” 

His father’s face softened at (Y/N)’s expression. He released the boy, and seemed to hesitate before smoothing his hair back out of his face, “You should rest, you have had quite the number of shocks these past few days.” 

(Y/N) watched as father turned on his heel, and exited the chambers gently shutting the doors behind him.

“Lykirī.” (Y/N) smiled, as Vermithor pushed his snout into his chest. He pet the dragon with a gloved hand, laughing as the dragon continued to push him. “You must relax if you wish to fly.” 

(Y/N) had spent almost a week avoiding Vermithor after the dragon chased him down in the woods. Hoping that if he ignored him long enough the dragon would take the hint and leave, but eventually the Dragonkeepers sought him out, telling him that Vermithor had been untamable since he’d arrived in the Dragonpit. So (Y/N) resigned himself to the life of a dragonrider. He’d spent every day since then with the dragon, slowly but surely adjusting to his presence, and Vermithor had calmed drastically with (Y/N)’s visits. 

(Y/N) had taken to flying easily, much to his father’s delight and, as much as he hid it, his own. Although he had felt sick at the idea of claiming a dragon at first, he had come to find pride in the quick developments in his relationship with Vermithor. 

Rhaenyra too found delight in her betrothed’s new life. 

Anytime (Y/N) was free Rhaenyra was dragging him to the dragonpit, insisting Vermithor and Syrax go flying together. Viserys, at first happy to have another dragon in the family, soon grew inpatient with the two teens. Irritated at their constant absence from court, but (Y/N) paid him little mind. (Y/N) had no real place in his court, and he had not yet raised Rhaenyra, his heir, from the role of cupbearer. 

(Y/N) saddled Vermithor, leaning down to whisper to the dragon, “Sōvēs” 

The wind was cool against his face, blowing the strands of hair that had escaped his bun around in his face. (Y/N) had been wishing for clean and open air since he’d arrived in Kingslanding, this just isn’t how he expected to find it. Vermithor rumbled under him, and he laughed, leaning down so that he could rub the dragon’s neck. 

“I know,” (Y/N) spoke, almost shouting to be heard against the wind. “I am sorry I was late.” 

He’d been stuck in court all day, listening to his father and uncle bicker over details of the upcoming royal wedding. His uncle, ever the peacekeeper, had wanted Rhaenyra and (Y/N) to be married in the faith of the seven, as he was to Aemma and later Alicent, his father had other ideas however. 

“I do not worship the New Gods, uncle.” (Y/N) pointed out. 

“It is the tradition of the royal family.” The Grand Maester spoke up, as the other lords of the chamber had gone silent as soon as the tensions started to rise, seemingly fearful of angering any member of the royal family. Not that (Y/N) could blame them, he’d heard stories of his father’s infamous fits of anger. 

“(Y/N) follows the Old Gods like his mother,” His father looked pained to speak the words, but (Y/N) gave him an appreciative nod all the same. “And I have not known Rhaenyra to spend her days in the sept. We are Targaryens, they should marry in the tradition of Old Valyria.” 

“The faith-” 

“Fuck the faith.” Daemon spat. “I will not ask my son to forsake his gods so that some fat septon is comfortable, and we cannot bring a weirwood here so this is the only equitable compromise I see.” 

His uncle and the members of his council had grumbled at the idea, but eventually they conceded knowing this was an argument they could not win without insulting someone. His uncle dismissed them all, brows pinched in frustration. (Y/N) had caught his father’s arm on the way out, stopping him from walking away. 

“Thank you.” He did not meet his father’s eyes. “I know faith is not important to you, but it is to me so- just- thank you.” 

His father gently cupped his cheek, bringing (Y/N)’s eyes up to meet his. His father smiled at him, “You do not have to thank me. It is no secret that I hold no love for your mother’s house, but you do, and you are my blood. I will always defend you.” 

His father’s words still hung over his head by the time (Y/N) and Vermithor had returned to the Dragonpit. 

Rhaenyra was waiting for him as he dismounted, accompanied by a slew of Kingsguard and a royal carriage. The Kingsguard watched Vermithor warily as he grumbled, huffing as though he could sense (Y/N)’s apprehension at the sight laid out before him. 

 “Lykirī.” (Y/N) whispered, urging the bronze beast to return to the Dragonpit. Vermithor huffed one last time at the men, causing (Y/N) to chuckle, before returning. (Y/N) walked over to Rhaenyra, untying his hair and letting it tumble down to his shoulders. “That is quite the party, Nyra.” 

She sighed, “Our presence is required at the keep. We must be readied to greet the lords arriving at the court.” 

A Kingsguard opened the door of the carriage, and (Y/N) offered his hand for Rhaenyra to take. She took his hand, using it as leverage to step into the carriage and (Y/N) followed suit, taking the seat across from her. 

“What troubles you?” 

Rhaenyra blinked at (Y/N), “I am not troubled.” 

“Rhaenyra,” (Y/N) said, smiling slightly, “I can tell something is troubling you. Is it tonight?” 

“No,” She shook her head, leaning forward and placing her hand on (Y/N)’s knee. “No, it’s not tonight, it is this morning. My father is still blind to the schemes of some of those present in his court, they seek to undermine our family in favor of the Hightower children.” 

“Your father will not claim Aegon over you. You are his heir, you will be Queen and no scheming lord can change that.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, squeezing his knee slightly before releasing him and sitting back. (Y/N) turned to look out of the carriage, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. He heard Rhaenyra chuckle softly, before the exhaustion of the day overtook him and he slipped away to sleep.

“You seem nervous.” (Y/N) turned, coming face to face with his cousin. He gave his best attempt at a smile, he fiddled with the collar of his shirt, and Gerold stepped forward. He adjusted the leather jerkin, allowing (Y/N) to breathe easier. “It is odd to see you in such formal attire.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “At least they don’t have dragons on them.” 

“No? I have heard a rumor that you’ve become quite the dragonlord in your absence.” 

(Y/N) reddened, ducking his head slightly, “It was an accident.” 

His cousin laughed, patting him on the shoulder, “There is no need to be nervous, cousin.” 

His cousin smiled at him one last time before joining his other cousin in the precession line. (Y/N) frowned at the sight of Gunthor, he’d been informed when his family and their court had arrived that his grandsire had fallen ill not long after (Y/N) departed, and in his heirs absence his cousin Gunthor, second in line, had taken his place as regent. His grandsire had been too ill to make the journey to Kingslanding, sending (Y/N) his well wishes and Gunthor in his place. 

A sudden hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to catch his father smiling, he squeezed his shoulder. “The tailors did well, you look like a prince.” 

“I am a prince.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s smile widened. 

“Yes, you are. Remember that, as there are those that would hope you forget.” His father nodded in the direction of Gunthor, and (Y/N)’s expression soured. 

“I do not trust him, I cannot say why but-” (Y/N) frowned, staring at his cousin’s interactions with the Valemen around him. “He did not write to me to tell me of my grandsire’s illness. I am the heir, I should be regent, not him, and yet in my absence he swooped in.” 

His father nodded, “Good. You must recognize the snakes before they strike.” 

His father stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the Valemen. “I am aware that we do not have the best relationship-” 

(Y/N) snorted, and Daemon laughed rolling his eyes. “Yes I know, but you are my son, my blood. And I would like to be not just your sire, but your father as well. I was not there in your youth, let me be there now.” 

(Y/N) frowned, hesitating. He swallowed before finally speaking, “May we speak of this after the feast?” 

“Of course,” His father lightly touched his cheek, “Come we should join the others.” 

He and his father took their places at the front of the party, Gunthor to (Y/N)’s left and Daemon to his right. (Y/N) took a deep breath as the doors opened, keeping his gaze on the two banners bearing the sigils of House Targaryen and House Royce hung in the back of the Great Hall as his family entered. 

“Ser Gunthor of House Royce. Acting Lord of Runestone, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon. And Prince Daemon Targaryen. And his son and heir to Runestone Prince (Y/N) Targaryen the future King Consort.” 

The guests of the hall stood, clapping as they walked down to the high table. The amount of eyes on him made (Y/N) uneasy, but he kept his head high, posture exuding the confidence expected of one of his station. (Y/N) made eye contact with Rhaenyra at the end of the hall who offered him a comforting smile, he nodded to her. 

They paused at the beginning of the steps, bowing to the King, before Rhaenyra stepped around the table making her way toward the crowd. (Y/N) stepped forward, meeting her halfway, he took her hand as his father had instructed him when going over the etiquette required of him at the feast. 

“You must act every bit the king you will one day be, no matter how unused to these events you may be.” His father had told him. (Y/N) scoffed at the advice, he was raised to be the Lord of Runestone, he knew how to act at a feast. 

As (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss to Rhaenyra’s hand, and claps echoed around the hall, he cursed himself for not taking his father’s advice seriously. He had never known a feast quite like this, hosting the most important lords of the whole of Westeros. Lords he’d never met before like the Lannisters, Hightowers, and Velaryons. He took his place by Rhaenyra’s side at the table, his father and cousin taking the seats by his left. 

He let out a breath as he sat down, scanning the crowd as his uncle started to speak. Rhaenyra grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing it in reassurance, it was only then that he allowed himself to relax, if only slightly. 

"Be welcome,” His uncle smiled out at the crowd, “As we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honor one of Westeros' oldest houses, and a fierce ally to the crown, House Royce. Just as House Targaryen reaches back to the blood of Old Valyria, House Royce reaches back to the blood of the first men. With House Targaryen and H-"

Viserys paused, and everyone averted their gaze to where his lingered. (Y/N) tensed once more as Queen Alicent Hightower made her entrance into the hall. The color of her dress a clear statement to anyone who knew any of the histories. Reluctantly (Y/N) made his way to his feet with the rest of the guests, he shot an amused glance to his side where his father still sat, eyes narrowed at the young queen. 

Alicent addressed Rhaenyra, “Congratulations, step-daughter. What a blessing this is for you.” 

Rhaenyra gave no indication of thanks, and Alicent kissed Viserys on the cheek before taking her seat beside him. 

He’d not yet had any real interactions with the young queen, only knowing things told to him by Rhaenyra and Daemon. He had taken them with a grain of salt, wanting to make his own judgment of the girl, but with the blatant display she’d just shown to the lord’s of Westeros, (Y/N) decided that maybe Rhaenyra and Daemon had been right in their worries. Perhaps the Hightowers did have their own intentions with the crown. 

“Please be seated.” 

(Y/N) traced the rim of his empty goblet as his uncle stood silently, only picking his eyes up from the table when he started to speak. 

"With House Targaryen and House Royce united, once again, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dawn and Dragons in Westeros.” Viserys spoke, and the hall erupted into applause.

“And after tonight’s small affair,” Laughter sounded through the halls, and (Y/N) had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Seven days of tournament and feasting! And at the end of it all, a royal wedding. Between my daughter, my heir, your future queen. And Prince (Y/N) Targaryen, heir to Runestone.” 

As Viserys sat, and everyone else followed suit, Rhaenyra and (Y/N) rose from theirs. They approached the middle of the aisle, and began their dance. (Y/N) had never been much of a dancer, and suffered through the lessons given to both he and Rhaenyra. 

“I feel like a fool.” (Y/N) whispered as Rhaenyra and he side stepped each other. 

“You are doing wonderfully.” Rhaenyra whispered back, taking her place back to back with him. “Ignore everyone, pretend it is just you and me.” 

When they finished, bowing to one another the halls once again erupted in applause. (Y/N) took Rhaenyra’s hands in his, kissing them softly as she gave him a knowing smile. As the rest of the courtiers took their places on the dance floor, (Y/N) tried to escape back to the high table, longing for a cup of wine. He was stopped before he could reach the table much to his dismay. 

“My Prince.” The lady, who (Y/N) did not recognize, blushed, bowing to him. “May I have this dance?” 

(Y/N) gaped at her, before remembering who and where he was. “Yes, yes of course Lady-” 

“Reyne.” 

“Lady Reyne. (Y/N) smiled, mourning his cup of wine. He gestured toward the lords and lady’s dancing, “Lead the way.” 

He had to dance with five young ladies before he finally found his escape. He flopped, very unprince-like into his seat, immediately grabbing the cup of wine laid out in front of him. His father laughed, waving over a servant to refill the cup once (Y/N) had finished. 

“Not a fan of dancing?” Daemon smirked, “Or is it the ladies asking you to dance you are not fond of?” 

“Both.” (Y/N) spoke over the rim of his cup, “They only wish to dance with me because I am to marry Rhaenyra, if I were just the heir to Runestone they’d pay me little mind.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Daemon said, “You are a comely young man.” 

(Y/N) smirked, “Ladies don’t wish to dance with comely young men.” 

“Neither do lords.” His father raised his eyebrows, humor sparkling in his eyes. 

(Y/N) shrugged, smiling at his father’s tone, “You have been talking to Rhaenyra.” 

Daemon leaned close, patting his son on the leg, “I am just glad you two have made this match work for the both of you.” 

“We are not married yet, father.” (Y/N) reminded, “Things may yet just fall apart.” 

Before his father could speak, another lady made her way to the table. She bowed to both (Y/N) and Daemon. “Prince (Y/N), may I have this dance?” 

Daemon snickered, taking (Y/N)’s cup out of his hand. “Well go on, dance.” 

His father had disappeared from the table when (Y/N) had finished, and his cousins were wrapped up in conversation with a lord (Y/N) did not recognize. He made his way to the sidelines, stealing a full cup of wine, and pressing his back against the wall to avoid being spotted. 

He spied his father in the middle of the dancing, twirling Laena Velayron around, and (Y/N) frowned. His father’s wife, (Y/N)’s own mother, had died only three moons ago, and as far as (Y/N) knew Laena Velayron was engaged to some Brasvosi. 

“You would never know this feast was in your honor the way you frown.” 

(Y/N) turned to face the owner of the voice, smiling as Ser Harwin took a place next to him. “Ser Harwin.” 

“Are you not enjoying the feast, my prince?” Harwin smiled, leaning closer to the prince. 

“I am enjoying the wine, some of the company less so.” (Y/N) said, and Harwin laughed. 

“I understand the sentiment.” 

(Y/N) brought the cup up to his lips, smiling around its rim. Harwin grabbed an empty cup, flagging down a servant who filled both of their cups. (Y/N) watched as his father continued to dance with Laena, and Rhaenyra moved through the crowd, followed closely by Ser Laenor. 

Harwin raised his cup up, and (Y/N) followed suit, “To your marriage.” 

“My marriage.” (Y/N) and Harwin laughed as their cups met. 

(Y/N) spent the rest of the feast by Harwin’s side. Harwin had stopped drinking by his fourth cup, watching in amusement as the prince got drunker and drunker with each cup of wine. As the feast died down, and the lords and ladies took their leave, Harwin had found (Y/N) a seat, and was watching him ramble fondly. 

“I do not care for this court, Harwin.” (Y/N) sighed, leaning his head back. “It was simpler on Runestone, but here, here there are too many lords I do not know. I do not trust them.” 

Harwin laughed, patting the prince’s leg, “Perhaps a hall filled with those lords is not the place to have this conversation, my prince.” 

“(Y/N).” (Y/N) said, straightening. He looked Harwin in the eye, placing his hand on top of the knights. “Please call me (Y/N).” 

Harwin’s eyes softened, “Of course, (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) smiled at the knight, keeping his hand where it was before two twin coughs behind him startled him. (Y/N) jumped, spilling his cup of wine onto himself. Harwin laughed as (Y/N) turned to look at the people behind him. Daemon and Rhaenyra stood above him, both with twin amused smiles on their faces. They had never looked more related, (Y/N) mused. 

“Having fun?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“I was informed that this feast was for me, and that I should try to have some fun.” 

Daemon laughed at his son's words, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him up out of the seat. “I think it’s time you take your leave.” 

Harwin stood, grabbing (Y/N) to help Daemon keep the prince upright. Rhaenyra sighed, a smile still gracing her face. 

“I am glad you enjoyed yourself, (Y/N).” Rhaenyra said. “But perhaps next time you can entertain yourself with less wine.” 

(Y/N) stepped forward, stumbling slightly and both Harwin and Daemon’s eyes widened as he moved. Freeing himself from the men’s grasps, (Y/N) approached Rhaenyra pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I am sorry that I left you on your lonesome.” (Y/N) said, letting his hand rest on her arm. Rhaenyra smiled, at his words or his drunkenness (Y/N) could not tell. 

She pressed her palm to his cheek, “You are fine. I enjoyed myself plenty.” 

(Y/N) nodded. “Good, because this is for both of us. So we should both enjoy ourselves.” 

“(Y/N),” Rhaenyra laughed, shaking her head. “Let us get you to your chambers.” 

Daemon and Harwin grabbed one of his arms, ignoring (Y/N)’s protests that he could walk by himself. Rhaenyra followed the three men, laughing at (Y/N)’s attempts to break free from the two men, and his drunken rambles to all three of the people accompanying him. When they finally reached the room, with some incident much to Harwin and Daemon’s dismay and Rhaenyra’s delight, Daemon turned to Harwin. 

“I have him from here, Ser Harwin will you please make sure the princess makes it back to her room.” 

Harwin nodded, and Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek. “I will see you tomorrow at the tourney.” 

“Goodnight, (Y/N), Prince Daemon.” 

(Y/N) and Daemon bid the both of them goodnight, before the guards at (Y/N)’s door open the doors to his chamber and Daemon practically dragged his son into the room. Daemon instructe (Y/N) to lift his arms, and when he did he undid the jerkin and brought the tunic over his head, tossing it to the side. 

“Undo your boots.” 

(Y/N) complied, and when he was done Daemon led him toward the bed. When (Y/N) was seated on the bed, Daemon turned to leave, but (Y/N) grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks. “We have not had our conversation.” 

Daemon smiled, “Rest, we will have it tomorrow I promise.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Alright.” 

Daemon pressed him down into the bed slowly, pushing the blankets back so that (Y/N) could get underneath them. He brushed (Y/N)’s sweaty hair out of his face, smoothing it down not unlike his mother used to do when he was ill. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, and Daemon smiled. 

“Sleep.” 

(Y/N) closed his eyes, slipping quickly into rest. But not before he felt the ghost of lips pressed against his forehead.

(Y/N) hated himself the next morning. 

He closed his eyes as he bathed, letting the warm water alleviate some of his migraine. He dressed slowly, groaning as a loud knock sounded throughout the room. 

“Come in.” 

Daemon strolled into the room, taking a look at his son’s appearance before chuckling. “How are you feeling?” (Y/N) just glared at him, causing Daemon to laugh again. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” 

Daemon placed a small vile in front of him, and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s watered down dreamwine,” Daemon said, “For your head.” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) took the vial, opened it and sniffed it a bit before downing it. “Thank you.” 

Daemon nodded, turning to leave. 

“Are you not here to continue our conversation?” (Y/N) called out, and Daemon turned back to face him. 

“I just wanted to see if you were well.” 

“I am.” (Y/N) smiled, “I just have a headache, I will live.” 

Daemon nodded, taking a seat across from (Y/N). He looked nervous at the thought of continuing their conversation from before the feast, it endeared (Y/N) to see his father’s usual tough exterior come crumbling down at the idea of a conversation. 

Giving his father some respite, (Y/N) changed the topic of conversation, “I saw you dancing with Laena Velayron last night. Is she not already betrothed?” 

“A man cannot dance with a lady?” Daemon asked, although his expression gave him away. 

“Not when that man is you, father.” (Y/N) said. “Do you wish to get remarried? You have no real need for any more heirs.” 

Daemon shrugged, “Perhaps I wish for company.” 

“You are lonely?” (Y/N) almost laughed at the thought. He could not imagine the so-called Lord of Flea Bottom wanting for the comforts of a lady. 

“Well my only son prefers to spend his time at Runestone pretending I don’t exist.” 

(Y/N)’s mood soured, and he frowned. He turned away from his father, crossing his arms like he wasn’t a man of seven and ten and instead a boy of nine. “You did not give me a choice. I was just saving myself from the pain I would feel when you inevitably wouldn’t arrive.” 

“I know.” Daemon ran his hand down his face. “I did not mean that I apologize.” 

“You know you have missed my last ten name days.” (Y/N) whispered. 

“I know.” Daemon said. “I sent you presents but I know that does not make up for my absence.” 

“I never received any gifts.” 

Daemon looked up in confusion, his expression contorted before he let out a bitter laugh. “No, of course you didn’t. Your mother probably never gave them to you. She never held any love for me.” 

“I remember you did not hold much for her either.” (Y/N) spat. “She told me that you fled Runestone the night after I was born, and did not return until my first name day only to flee that night as well.” 

“I was a boy, no older than you are now.” 

“That is no excuse!” 

“No it’s not and I have regretted my decisions every day! I was scared, (Y/N)!” Daemon stood. “When I found out your mother was pregnant I was terrified. We held no love toward each other, and I feared that our hatred toward each other would impact you. I was an idiot boy so I fled. Then you were born, and I was still just this boy, and you were so pure and I could not corrupt that with my hatred so I feld again. I fled again and again, because I was scared I could not be a good father to you, as I could not be a good husband to your mother and she could not be a good wife to me. When I finally realized what an imbecile I had been it was too late, you had no idea who I was.” 

(Y/N) remembered the day of his fourth name day vaguely. 

“(Y/N),” His mother gestured to a skinny man with pale hair and eyes like (Y/N). “Your father is here to see you.” 

The man approached him, and (Y/N) stepped back, placing his mother between him and this stranger. The man’s face fell, and he stumbled back. 

“Perhaps it would be best if I left.” 

“Daemon-” 

“It’s fine.” The man handed a wrapped package to his mother. “Give this to him.”

"You're running? Again?"

"Look at him Rhea-"

"No, run. Like you always do."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to think better of it. He turned on his heel and left, and (Y/N)'s mother scoffed.

He had seen his father only a few times after that day, and their meetings had always been brief and curt. His mother had certainly not helped (Y/N)’s view of his father, only ever nodding and staying silent when (Y/N) would complain. He had once asked her why Daemon did not stay for more than a night, and his mother had replied that his father hated the Vale and many of those who resided there. It had crushed (Y/N) to hear, but after learning of the gifts his father had sent that he had not received he could only wonder how much of his own hatred for his father was just what he learned to feel from his mother. 

“I am sorry for my absence.” Daemon said. “I can never make up those lost years, and I know my youth and stubbornness is no excuse but-” 

His father took a deep breath, “(Y/N), I wish- if you would allow, for us to start again. I know I cannot ask you to forget the years I was not there for you, but allow me to start again.” 

“I understand.” (Y/N) said, “I cannot forgive-” 

“-I wouldn’t ask you to-” 

“-but I understand. I understand more than I did at the very least.” (Y/N) said, and the tension in his father’s shoulders eased. (Y/N) smiled, it was probably a bit pained, (Y/N)’s head throbbing even more with the revelations of the morning. “We can try to start again. I make no promises, but we can try.” 

His father smiled, a genuine smile that (Y/N) had never seen across his father’s face before. “Thank you.”

“You are not participating, (Y/N)?” 

(Y/N) looked at the queen from where he was seated next to Rhaenyra, shaking his head politely. “I am not a knight, Queen Alicent.” 

Alicent looked him up and down, the motion making him squirm a bit. She did not respond but she nodded, turning her gaze back to the tourney fields. 

His father was not participating in the tourney either, instead taking a seat in the stands. Ser Harwin was participating though, much to Rhaenyra’s delight. (Y/N) did not find much delight in tourney’s, bloodshed was not a game to be played. 

In all honesty, (Y/N) was bored watching the tourney. Ser Criston had won, wearing Alicent’s favor which (Y/N) could tell irritated Rhaenyra. By the time the melee rolled around the next day (Y/N) was dreading spending the hot day in the stands of the tourney grounds. 

“May I have your favor, princess.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, giving Harwin a small piece of cloth. He tucked it into his armor, turning to (Y/N) who smiled. 

“I don’t have a favor,” (Y/N) said, and Harwin smiled, cheeks reddening slightly. “But I wish you luck.” 

“Thank you, (Y/N).” 

Their luck and favors did Harwin no favors in the melee. Rhaenyra had shrieked when Cristion’s morningstar made contact with Harwin’s collarbone, shattering it and his elbow. But the worst injury of the day had been to Ser Joffrey, and (Y/N) could not get Laenor’s cries out of his mind even as he fell asleep that night. 

There were no more tourney’s after that as a solemn mood had fallen over the royal court. Ser Harwin would live (Y/N) and Rhaenyra discovered, but Ser Joffrey was not likely to. And as it happened six days later, Joffrey passed, and Ser Laenor was inconsolable. Rhaenyra and (Y/N) both tried, even if (Y/N) was not as close with his cousin as Rhaenyra was, but in the end the knight took his leave back to Driftmark before the wedding even happened. 

(Y/N) spent the night before the wedding with his father. His father told him the story of his wedding with (Y/N)’s mother, describing how (Y/N)’s grandfather, Baelon, had to drag Daemon to Runestone. 

“If it is any comfort,” (Y/N) mused. “You had to drag me to Kingslanding.” 

Daemon laughed, “I did. But you will have a much happier marriage than your mother and I.” 

(Y/N) lifted his cup, “One can hope.” 

The wedding itself snuck up on (Y/N), the events of the week leading up to it not allowing him to worry about the ceremony. It was only now that he was dressed in red and gold Valyrian robes, standing atop Rhaenys’ hill, surrounded by the lords and ladies of Westeros, that the nerves started to reach him. 

He could hear the distant roars of the dragon’s in the dragon pit as the priest spoke. (Y/N) lifted the dragonglass blade, handed to him by the priest. He made quick eye contact with his father, who only nodded, before slicing Rhaenyra’s bottom lip. He gathered the blood from the cut, dragging his thumb down her forehead. Rhaenyra took her own blade, repeating the action on (Y/N) before slicing her palm.(Y/N) dragged the blade against his palm, taking Rhaenyra’s hand in his. They joined their blood as the priest spoke. 

(Y/N) took the cup handed to him, drinking from it, before handing it to Rhaenyra who did the same. The priest finished his rites, and (Y/N) cupped Rhaenyra’s cheek, he could taste the blood as he brought her lips to meet his. (Y/N) rested his forehead against Rhaenyra’s as cheers were sounded around them. When they pulled away and faced the crowd, he could see his father and uncle smiling. 

Their hands were wrapped by the priest, covering the open wounds, and they descended down the hill. Rhaenyra did not let go of his hand as they went, smiling at him as he helped her into the carriage waiting for them. “Thank you, valzȳrys.”

Both he and Rhaenyra were dressed in their small clothes separately. He’d been offered food and wine before he was brought over to Rhaenyra’s chambers, but he turned them down. He did not wish to spend his wedding night addled by wine. 

Viserys had insisted on a bedding ceremony, and Daemon had no qualms with the idea. But both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra protested. The meeting had ended unsuccessfully, but (Y/N) suspected Rhaenyra had private words with her father, as by the next meeting the topic had been dropped completely and it was agreed there would be no such ceremony. 

The doors to Rhaenyra’s chambers were opened by the guards, and (Y/N) stepped into the room. Rhaenyra was sitting by the vanity, brushing her hair in a velvet dress that hung loosely from her body. (Y/N) felt like a hedge knight in his plain cloth clothing. 

She smiled at him, placing the brush down on the vanity. She glided across the room, coming to stand in front of him. “Valzȳrys.” 

“Ābrazȳrys” 

Rhaenyra gently grasped the laces of his tunic, undoing them slowly. She kept eye contact with (Y/N) as she did so, letting his tongue wet her lower lip as the laces were fully loosened. (Y/N) grabbed the bottom of his tunic, bringing it up over his head, and placing it on a chair next to him. 

Rhaenyra took a deep breath as she watched (Y/N), she brought her hand up and gingerly traced the contours of his abdomen. (Y/N) took her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

“Turn around.” (Y/N) said, and Rhaenyra complied. 

He stepped forward, brushing her hair to her front so that he could see the back of her dress. She shivered as his breath touched the back of her neck. He undid the laces of her dress with careful precision, causing her to laugh and joke. 

“Done this before?” 

Instead of responding, (Y/N) let the dress fall down her shoulders, leaving her bare. She stiffened as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, before relaxing as he moved his mouth up her neck. She turned around and (Y/N)’s mouth went dry at the sight of her bare in front of him. She grabbed his neck, leaning up and connecting their lips. She grasped the laces of his trousers, undoing them in haste and shoving them down his legs. (Y/N) stepped out of them, groaning into Rhaenyra’s lip as she grasped him. He could feel her smile against his lips, and he pulled away bringing his mouth to her chest, eliciting a gasp from the princess. 

“(Y/N),” She gasped, and he kissed up her chest to her collarbone and back up to her lips, swallowing her next words. 

He pulled her close to him, lifting her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and carried her to the bed. He gently set her down, and she smiled up at him. He returned the smile, before reconnecting their lips. Rhaenyra gasped as (Y/N) pulled away to mouth at her neck, she tangled her fingers in his hair pulling him up from where there would inevitably be a mark on her skin the next morning. 

“Stop teasing.” 

“Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys.”

---

Translations -

Lykirī - be calm

Sōvēs - fly

Valzȳrys - husband

Ābrazȳrys - wife

Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys - of course, my wife

[phoenixcatch7]

It's always funny to me when in an lu fic the chain is offered bananas and don't accept them. Like, you're offering these high energy adventures free food?? Fruit they'll have never even heard of before??? A ridiculously expensive imported good at best?? AND it boosts your attack?

Not ONE of these idiots would ever turn down something new and interesting to eat at least once. They'd be all over those bananas and immediately get dubbed yiga and I'm honestly surprised no one has used it in a fic yet 🤭

[gio-cosmo]

Cinema peaked during the “pin yourself to the wall” scene in the sonic the hedgehog live action movie

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

wanted to try my hand at a fake screenshot thing with a scene from one of the bttf fics of all time, Time Is a Flat Circle by @fourth-dimensional-thinker! i set in to draw only the "little canary" line but. as you can tell. my hand slipped and fell down a 6 story building

if you haven't read it already please check it out PLEASEEE it's very good. i read the whole thing in basically one sitting. the vibes are perfect for the spooky season too!

versions without the filter/subtitles under the cut:

[simptasia]

LOST: Season One

[chirpsythismorning]

“Mike said his life started the day he found El in the woods, which was technically the following night. What he said had nothing to do with offending Will because he went missing the day before.”

[roots-symphony]

do you think the reason agatha’s trial felt weird is because she was the only one who did not actually buy into the mythos of the road since she knew the truth? like that was why no perspective change and all the other reasons why people thought it was a fake trial

[fujii-draws]

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

oh the dread, oh the worry! you love your sister so much and you need to know shes okay. you trust her but you cant trust the world, and more than anything else you cant trust yourself

[artkaninchenbau]

An AWS comic

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 2 thoughts

ah, this episode! i have heard it is very scary. so i’m curious to see how creepy it can be. usually what gets me the most is body horror, at least so far. 

i’m really not a horror fan so i’m interested to see if this will push my limits or just be kinda silly. remember that evil AI in like s1 episode 8? and when it was unplugged it said “noooo, brad :(“ or something like that? yeah that one just made me giggle lol

(author's note after seeing the episode: what...)

(additional author's note: read to the end to see why i think this episode might be actually about the civil war's long-term consequences)

how far we have progressed since then! 

let us begin!!!

we open with a storm and some scary music. pretty intense for the first few seconds. oh, now someone is giving birth. it is very dark and hard to see but it appears these individuals do not look like your average fellow off the street.

GAG! slurping noises are produced as the baby emerges. birth counts as body horror btw i do NOT make the rules. EUGH the umbilical cord…

(sorry y’all pls take no offense to those who have or desire children someday... it’s just something that makes me feel dizzy to watch but i support your dreams and choices i promise 🙏)

okay, but the baby is crying so that’s usually a good sign right? like better than a quiet baby, i think.

but a bunch of people are leaving after the delivery and i thought they would stick around to do things like look at the baby and see if it is healthy and stuff. but no. they’re leaving. where are they going...

they’re digging a hole?????? WHAT DA HELL. BABY IN THE HOLE??!!!!!! while someone cries terribly. OMG the grief…

WHAT THE HELL???

what have i gotten myself into……

intro time. always gonna think about that tweet regarding scully’s glamour shot on her ID. anyway just in case you forgot the truth IS out there.

so we see some kids in a place called home, pennsylvania, and they’re playing baseball. you know how children are, with their baseball. it’s as serious to them as a senator running a reelection campaign. 

kid knocks the ball over the fence, and onto the property of “the peacocks”. the kids will NOT go get the ball, and instead find a spare. seems they prepared for this, or could maybe find a place that isn’t next to a very scary house to play ball, but i understand spacial constraints.

OH???? the kid is digging his foot in to go swing and…. BLOODY PUDDLE???? THIS MUST BE THE BABY FROM BEFORE????

he backs away as we see a tiny hand in the dirt. that poor kid omfg he must have been traumatized… and his sneakers were so bright and white…..

cutscene to mulder in the field after all the kids have fled! ah, mulder loves his baseball. in fact, he even sniffs it. he’s practicing his pitching LMAOOOO please be serious for FIVE minutes. 

scully is measuring the hole while he does all this. in fact, he is not stopping. it just keeps going while she talks about the angle of the shovel.

she makes some quip about quitting the FBI and becoming a spokesperson for the ab roller, when he SHOVES THE BALL UNDER HER NOSE and says “smell that” THIS MAN IS SUUUUUCH A WEIRDO I LOVE HIM

“it’s perfume. eau de ball” (stupid little mulder smile)

very strong juxtaposition between baby death and a daydreaming mulder, but that is the sort of thing we have come to expect from this show. he seems enchanted.

WAIT! he’s talking about his sister… “all-day pickup games out on the Vineyard” and going down to the beach… no cell phones or faxes… oh man, this baseball has him talking about his family :(

“mulder, if you had to do without a cell phone for two minutes, you’d lapse into catatonic schizophrenia” <- WELL GET HIM! it is true. he is always making calls and then abruptly hanging up.

feels weird to be smiling like a fool at my screen as these two talk about their lives after seeing the opening scene... but here we are!

“scully, you don’t know me as well as you think you do. you know my work demands that i live in a big city, but if i had to settle down, build a home, it’d be a place like this” 

OHHHHH MY GOSH

1. he has though about settling down and having a life outside of his work, and this is such a character reveal, and i know he wants like a small army of children, and

2. i just KNOW those words are gonna come back and bite him when this place is revealed to be some sort of cult

she says it would be like living in mayberry which i had to google BUT: it is the town from the andy griffith show. ah, i see. so very quaint.

someone pulls up to see them and i paused at just the right time to see that mulder’s shirt is very baggy and living up to my URL, which is good because sometimes i worry it’s a bit TOO niche, but i made it after watching 4 episodes so i’m too attached to change it now. meanwhile, scully’s coat is wonderfully sleek and it’s a fun little contrast.

this is sheriff taylor, who says this is a very small town, and there are no real suspects. mulder asks about the peacocks next door, and the sheriff goes… quiet. apparently three boys lived there, and their parents were hurt in an accident. the sheriff and his team tried to administer care to the parents, but the boys took the bodies home??? that’s. odd.

so these peacocks have no electricity, grow their own food, and… are inbred. the sheriff says they are feeble and sad, and wouldn’t have any idea what they are talking about. which just makes me think they are the prime suspects.

the sheriff is saying that he loves his town, it is quiet and peaceful, and he knew someday it would change when something terrible happened. when he saw “it” in the ground, he knew that day had come. he seems convinced it’s an outsider but also he is purposefully ignoring all the evidence in the other direction. and he wants their help, but he doesn’t want anything to change. 

(i see... this is about the terrible secrets of small towns and the wish to keep everything quiet and preserve an idyllic image rather than make meaningful change)

apparently they were recommended to help out when “the victim” was described, so mulder says that maybe they should go take a look.

and whew, when they cut to a bundle of blankets next to some cans of spam (that look like they’re partially covered to hide the branding?) it’s a lot. it's a lot to handle, for me, emotionally, but i guess that's a fairly normal reaction. the sheriff just pulled the baby right out of the fridge. we also meet a deputy named barney.

they shove poor scully in a tiny bathroom with just a sink in it to do her work, because they don’t want anyone else seeing the autopsy go down. the sheriff says they can’t do it in his office, because everyone knows he never locks his office door, and they’d start rumors. this whole small town thing is starting to seem quite oppressive.

mulder is also here in this tiny closet-like bathroom, and i can feel the claustrophobia from here. despite the lack of space, scully begins.

and she is taken aback, but not as much by the fact that it is a child but that said child “has been afflicted by every rare birth defect known to science”. mulder has his arm on the wall leaning in and watching in a way that is weird for the space.

we only see a few shots of the baby- thankfully, because i don't think i could handle seeing any more of it than we do- but it’s enough to make me go whew, shout-out to the props department for making something that looks like that, because that is how i cope with seeing things on this show that make me nearly faint

she is reciting the various things that this child has been born with, and mulder says that they can probably rule out murder, right? but scully says idk… it looks like it WAS murder, actually. dirt in the nose.

lord, they walk out after doing that and somehow don’t need to like, down some vodka or something to cope. 

“imagine all a woman’s hopes and dreams for her child, and then nature turns so cruel. what must a mother go through?” oh my gosh is scully gonna make me cry…

“apparent not much in this case, if she just threw it out in the trash”, says mulder, while they sit on a bench on he is manspreading like you would not believe. but i assume they are in a tough spot mentally so manspreading is permitted in this situation.

“i guess i was just projecting on myself”, she says, and oh my gosh does scully want kids someday…. stop i’ll cry!! i’ll cry. 

“well, just find yourself a man with a spotless genetic makeup and a really high tolerance for being second-guessed and start pumping out the little uber-Scullys” he says, rubbing her back.

and i can’t decide if this is funnier if he’s truly and deeply down terrible for her and suggesting subtly that HE could be that man, or if he’s just being a really good pal. so i’m gonna turn around both options in my head for a while and see which sticks.

“what about your family?” “hm? aside from the need for corrective lenses and a tendency to be abducted by extraterrestrials involved in an international governmental conspiracy, the mulder family passes genetic muster” (said with a celebratory flourish of his hands)

oh my gooooooosh i love them both so bad. he is SUCH a nerd. and his constant need to joke about the horrible things… even when they are approaching a serious topic, life ambitions and the desire to start a family, he has to go in there with some sarcasm to avoid getting Too Serious...

see? he has good genes. allegedly. go forth.

but he sobers up, points out that the child they had to just examine is a serious tragedy, and some likely very young parents are probably incredibly scared. but this isn’t really an FBI matter. 10 points to him for being serious for once.

she is brainstorming how such a thing could happen- “now, we all have a natural instinct to propagate” “do we?” <- ace mulder subtext i see you…

scully is convinced that the woman who gave birth to that child did it against her will, and mulder points out that kidnapping is a bureau matter… she seems determined to save someone caught in a horrible circumstance here, and i admire that about her, the sense of justice she has. she gets up to go investigate.

but he calls out: “hey scully- i never saw you as a mother before” <- OH MY GOD??? OH MY GOD. i can’t even begin to process that right now. oh my gosh it seems like he has wanted kids SO terribly… but scully never really brought the subject up, which is fine because not everyone wants kids!! but what does it say about her character if she DOES…? i am analyzing.

i hope she is happy someday with whatever she chooses. music is playing as he looks after her. do not for a second think i missed that little musical flourish and gaze combo.

so, they go to the peacock's farm. where they find a chopped off pig’s head on the steps. it doesn’t seem to bother them at all, which must be a testament to the strength of bureau training.

mulder tries to do his usual “enter first and ask questions later” thing, but scully STOPS HIM, saying there is no probable cause.

WHAT!!! for once they did NOT JUST BURST IN!!??? their random entering of places is one of my favorite running gags and for once they didn’t. oh she is serious about this one…

so they just peek inside instead…. and then they get their guns and go inside after seeing a table covered in blood. oh…. the scissors from before…. yes, bloody table = probable cause

there is blood everywhere, and the footprint from the crime scene matches the footprint in blood on the floor. AND they find a bloody shovel. well!!! we know who did it now!!! but… where are they??

it is soooo dark and creepy as they make their way through the house. and someone is WATCHING THEM THE DARK as they investigate. BLEUGH we get an extreme closeup on their eyes…….

i am spooked.

now scully is on the phone with sheriff taylor, who is describing the warrants for the arrest of the peacocks he put out, while mulder slams a TV in their hotel room, trying to get it to work. typical mulder behavior

(i bet they felt a need to incorporate some silly moments to lighten out the heavy heavy heavy content, and honestly i didn't think it would work, but for me it kinda is. don't get me wrong, it's still VERY heavy, but it's not start to finish just trauma like we got in calusari, which stands out to me as being the darkest and least fun episode in the series so far. but let mulder sniff a baseball a little and smack a TV and our agents talk about having a family and it is slightly less overwhelming in terms of tone)

and she brings up the white cadillac they found there but he says get a lot of abandoned cars. damn, who is abandoning a cadillac...

what is this sheriff hiding…?

he pulls out his gun from a locked box, and seems deeply regretful. before he puts it back in the box… hmm…

back at the peacock farm. the brothers are packing what looks like clubs into the cadillac. and i notice how silent and scary the whole thing is… no music whatsoever.

meanwhile, mulder is doing a little dance to try and get the TV working, which scully is smiling at him in a way that implies long term affection and exhaustion. i want to get those gifs and save them upon my blog forever and ever.

he’s trying to watch the knicks game, but as she heads out, he says “goodnight mom”, and she looks… uncomfortable. i mean, it’s a weird thing to say, but still. he says a lot of weird things and she doesn’t always look sort of… hmm. idk, the only phrase that comes to mind is “cut to the quick”. i WILL be analyzing that.

she tries to leave and the lock is broken, so he places a chair underneath, which might do something but like… probably not a ton.

anyway, back to the cadillac, where the brothers are pulling out while listening to music. where are they going….

sheriff taylor is up late at night, “taking one last look around before it all changes”. oh, he loves his town… but it is rotten, like mulder says. AND HIS WIFE DOESN’T LOCK THE DOOR AS THEY COME IN!!! NOOOO!

the brothers are on the move, while scully sleeps and mulder watches a fuzzy documentary on hyenas?? okay. king behavior.

but back at the sheriff’s house, he can hear the brothers approaching, and pulling into his yard. oh no…. he looks out the window and the brothers aren’t there. so did they already get in…?

he’s going for the gun, he says, and they enter his house. and he’s got a baseball bat, but where is the gun! they have clubs! like the kind the bad guys in zelda use!!! they look very very dangerous!

he hears them approach as his wife is under the bed……… and he swings his bat at the intruder, but he is barreled right over, it’s three on one, and they beat him RIGHT AS HIS WIFE SEES THE WHOLE THING FROM UNDER THE BED. and they sniff and sniff and FIND HER UNDER THERE????????

what the fuck. who came up with this…….. that song is still playing as they get in their car and leave. i'm sure the song also has some significance to the meaning of what these guys are doing but tbh i have never heard it before so it's hard to unpack.

the deputy is at the scene of the crime the next day, smoking a cigarette, hands shaking in terror. he had come over to give the sheriff a report… and found them that way.

so the owner of the cadillac was found in baltimore, she had left it behind after running out of gas. this is not a lead in the slightest.

mulder is investigating the scene while scully pulls out files from the crime lab, and it is. well, it is very bad, to put it bluntly. the crime scene is horrific. 

she says that the crime scene messed up the tests on the infant… but mulder proposes that… perhaps each of the brothers were the father? she talks about how babies are made and how that makes no sense, but he proposes that generations of inbreeding could maybe make such a mutation. but she says that isn’t possible, they’d need a female family member and there aren’t any left. hmm...

scully wants to try and trail them right now and go save whoever it was that was forced to give birth, but mulder points out that they are outnumbered and could further endanger the victim. what to do…? i don’t know the answer. 

oh! the deputy barges in and says he’ll take them up there so it’s three against three. and they have guns, which should give them the advantage. okay. shoutout to the deputy.

mulder seems suspicious however, and says his suddenly entry was a bit “too chuck bronson for me”. so yeah, i had to google that too. this chuck fellow is the guy from machine gun-kelly. and NOT that sleazy rapper one. the more you know.

scully is confused, though, because why would they kill the sheriff? he didn’t even investigate them. unless they somehow overheard them talking about issuing the arrest warrants while in their house… and they are operating under the assumption that the brothers were not in the house when they were…. but we know that someone was in hiding!!!

OH! back to the house. one of the brothers declares he is hungry. we finally get a semi-decent look at them, and they are incredibly gruesome. someone is under the bed still…. 

and when they declare that they are “ready”, they strip down. they knew this day- and change- was coming, and all they can do is be ready for it. this is our home. and this is the way it’s gonna stay. 

again, i ask, who came up with this……

the deputy and our agents are on the property, now. deputy wants to come in from the front and let them take the back. a brave thing to offer, but i am slightly suspicious of him. they have wired headsets on and bullet proof vests on, and he is going in.

so they’re approaching- scully and mulder in the field, the deputy out in front. scully is peeking through binoculars but she doesn’t see anyone inside!!! it has to be a trap!!!!

OH MY GOSH!!! just as scully tells the deputy to not go in, he opens the door and an AXE SWINGS DOWN AND CHOPS HIS HEAD OFF!!!!!

i am sorry for being suspicious of you, deputy. may you rest in peace.

mulder’s reciting his facts from the hyena documentary. they are witnessing something akin to prehistoric humanity. but he has an idea: divert them out of the house, so they don't have to deal with their traps. it is a good idea.

so they are sneaking into the pig pen, which had to be a pain to shoot. “scully, would you think less of me as a man if i told you i was kind of excited right now?” he asks as they try to get the pigs in a line to topple like dominoes or something???

“is there some secret farmer trick to getting these things moving?” “i don’t know!” lmaooo these city slickers...

they’re shoving pigs straight out the gate, and she’s trying to say some magic pig words from babe, which her nephew apparently watches all day. you know what that means...

! SCULLY LORE REVEAL ! she has a nephew!

but there are more pressing matters at hand than a lore reveal as one of the brothers emerges, falling for their piggy trap. we see them in daylight now, and it is an unsettling sight. 

as the brothers try to herd the pigs back in, the agents sneak in, with mulder picking up a giant log to poke open the door. and it is a good thing he did that, because a trap descends right on the log that surely would have beheaded him as it did the deputy if not for the log taking the axe/weapon thingy for him. thank you for your service, giant log.

they sneak in beneath the log and close the door as if nothing went down. scully is yelling to see if anyone is in the house. they’re doing a sweep in excellent coordination. mulder mumbles “oh no” and i’m scared but he just picks up a newspaper that says elvis is dead and frowns 😭 his ass cannot be serious for more than five minutes 

but something approaches!!!! they enter the bedroom and see photos of generations and generations of this family, with varying conditions. and at this moment mulder notices that someone is under the bed!!

he’s trying to say that they’re here to help, but whoever is down there is screaming, screaming at them to go away. so scully tries to move the bed, but she’s strapped to a board underneath the bed, and they pull her out and…. oh my gosh, she has no limbs, i think? it’s dark and hard to tell. they keep her under the bed..........

mulder says they’re going to get her home, but after a glance at the pictures on the wall, scully says that she already IS home. it’s mrs. peacock. the mother of the family that they thought died in the car accident!!!!!!

she is sobbing and they roll her back under the bed, with mulder having a horrific look on his face, unable to process what he just saw. 

mulder is back on the prowl to find the other brothers. and he tasks scully with trying to convince mrs. peacock that she is the only one who can get “her boys” out of here without them being hurt. a mighty task, indeed.

she walks away, and he says “scully, w-watch your step” and he’s worried about her and i want to cry. oh!! we see a trip wire……….

so scully goes back to mrs. peacock, explaining that she needs medical attention, and the agents are here to help. she says that this is their home- why leave it? she has to see if the boys are okay. 

and she lost her limbs in the accident that killed her husband. “sewed me up just like the family learned in the war of northern aggression” OH! so that is an WILD thing to say in pennsylvania. but it was at this point i thought i was putting the pieces together for an extended metaphor...

but she insists she felt no pain, and that no one in the family does. and they’re such good boys. scully points out they murdered three people, and mrs. peacock says she can tell scully has no children, but maybe someday she’ll learn the pride and the love “when you know your boy will do anything for his mother”

well i think you probably just made her swear that off forever!!! so!!!!!

the brothers see mulder in the window, and they start to run in. and as he holds one at gun point, another tries to bash in his head, so scully shoots him. but this isn’t enough to take him down! and the other one joins in on their attack, so it’s two against one tag teaming mulder!!! oh my gosh scully can you use your perfect aim???

yes, she can, but despite emptying the whole clip, they aren’t hurt!!! 

they’re running and running and dodging a whole lot of terrible blows, and scully yells out that she has the mother! she trips over the wire and one of the traps falls RIGHT into one of the brothers, seemingly finally taking him out.

she notices marks on the floor, and when they go back for mrs. peacock, they can’t find the other brother or the mother.

so they put out an APB for them, saying that in time, they’ll catch them. but he counters with “i think time already caught them, scully”

cutscene to the cadillac- where mrs. peacock says that “sherman and george were good boys”- SHERMAN? a union name? edmund, sherman, and george… 

it ends with mrs. peacock saying that there will be more peacocks, and they have to find a new home, make a new family to be proud of. she is in the trunk of the car while she says this.

okay so first thoughts: WHAT THE FUCK.

this episode definitely lived up to its horrific reputation. but i can’t figure out exactly what it is it MEANS!

beyond exploring the horrific topics of generational abuse, i feel that there is something a bit deeper going on here. i actually felt so compelled to see if i was imagining things that i went on the wikipedia page for the episode, which spoke of its themes on the american dream and the nuclear family. those themes i see for sure- how mulder was talking about settling down in a place like this, so quaint and quiet, how they started discussing their own desire for a family, and how every idyllic thought about what a family could be was upended on its head with the peacocks. that made sense to me. but...

that line- “the war of northern aggression”- was what the confederates called the american civil war to justify their rebellion. this is notable for the fact that this whole episode took place in pennsylvania, which was a union state- but somehow, they got so twisted up in their own hatred that they’re parroting the lost cause ideology over a century after the war.

the repeated motifs of “things being the way they are in a small town, in our town, in our home”- is that a symbol for the festering of post-civil war wounds? the inability for the war to make meaningful change when it came to the attitudes of the people on the losing side, who continue- even to this day- to spew their hateful ideology? the inbreeding metaphor- is that a representation of how hate begets hate begets hate, generation after generation, compounding and corrupting by the lack of intervention from outsiders who are too afraid to change “the way things are” and call out harmful behavior? and the newspaper from elvis’s death… is that another allusion to the family (or perhaps certain parts of the country) living entirely in the past, in addition to their lack of electricity and water, just stewing in their own hatred? even the name- home- reminds me of the “house divided cannot stand” rhetoric. is this talking about the rot of "back in the good ol' days" thinking?

or if not a metaphor for the country, and instead just the horror of abuse? of how people can feel that things are the way that they are, and so that makes it correct, no matter what the cost? about how warped perceptions of family can be made and shaped? and the fact that mrs. peacock went along with all of this, despite being the biggest victim of the family... is that to speak on the twisted nature of gender roles and how they are weaponized in familial abuse?

i have to clarify that i am not an expert on abuse in the slightest; i am just trying to work through the themes of what i just saw. you know how it is on this blog; i do my best to interpret the big issues, but also recognize that i can only see and comment upon so much.

i'm really, really curious to hear how you interpreted the episode, though. or how audiences have understood it in the past, or if it has ever been re-evaluated. what did the cast and crew have to say on it? i want to know.

man. this is gonna really make me ponder. i want to know. it was too purposeful to just be a “wouldn’t it be fucked up if…” sort of situation.

regardless of the terror, i actually thought this episode was pretty good. it felt cohesive, not just a sideshow of horrible things to make you feel shocked. and we learned more about our characters- their ambitions in life, the possibility of a family someday dangling over their heads, and the terror associated with everything that could go wrong. i think there is always some fear about starting a family (i wouldn't know, but i do read books and stuff), and for scully to just now vocalize her thoughts on the subject and to immediately see this case- i can only imagine what it did to her thought process.

i thought the more light-hearted elements were working at the beginning- mulder's TV dance, baseball time, the merits of their genetics, family talk- worked well at first. but by the end it was just... damn. that was a lot. maybe that is the indication of a successful episode, that it can take you along heavy subject matter with a sense of character analysis and horror, but end with just terror.

i'm not a horror fan outside of this show, so the balancing of the heavy and the humor always baffles me a little bit. i don't know how other materials do it, so i can't really say if it could have been done better or worse. i think the important part though is that they don't turn the tragedy itself into the joke. it wasn't giving "point and laugh at the horrible peacock family!" it was finding humor in other situations, that ultimately still surrendered to the sober feeling of what humanity can do.

whew. this one is definitely gonna stick with me for a while, and i’ll need like 12 hours to formulate my thoughts into something comprehensible. but, you ask, did you like the episode?

yes! while i'm not sure i'd watch it again for funsies, i thought our agents had to confront some inner demons while also learning a lot about them together and individually, which is exactly the thing i want in an episode. i think it brought them closer and they understand each other better, and i think we're getting into some real juicy parts of their relationship. i can't stop thinking about him rubbing her back- how terribly devoted they are to each other, regardless of if either of them can put that into words. those dynamics of devotion that go beyond words- it's so special to me.

and sure, i'll take the bait, and daydream about them living together... i am not above fan service in the slightest. it is me, the fan, who loves to be serviced.

but again. i'm spooked.