#but i can also see ‘he would not go without me’ referring to jaime leaving her

[ilynpilled]

do you believe jc’s endgame is to die together?

i think i have communicated much of this already, but let’s just say i am more open to the possibility than most jb/jaime ppl, but i am not at all as certain of it happening as most ppl in general fandom seem to be, and i am also not a huge fan of it personally. here is my perspective:

yeah, it is explicitly integrated into their belief system. it faded from jaime’s, as he did abandon her, and already often contradicted it through moments of being ready to recklessly die, or his passive suicidal ideation, but it was always present as a key aspect of their ‘destined lovers’ delusion. the thing with me though is that i dont really think this is how george tends to do foreshadowing? he does love to be unpredictable. and i have seen this argument many times before by other people who doubt this being their trajectory. not to mention the whole idea seems to get deliberately deconstructed over time.

jaime comes to the realization that she was the stranger (and we know he is cersei’s stranger, but she does not think he means death). he starts treating the relationship very differently (george says they are “effectively estranged”), and their fate is no longer entwined in his head. them saying they will die together is telegraphing that is very in your face. i mean the text is telling us what would happen explicitly. is that supposed to be deliberate and meant to be a tragic irony? i can see it working from that perspective maybe. but i think this aspect would still be effective without the double death necessarily, even though i can see how the wording may be deliberate here, i just have certain thematic gripes with it. we know these two are not supposed to be reliable narrators when they say this. their relationship is a twisted attempt at self-love. again, i get that there is a subversion happening with cersei being killed by him for one, but is the belief system supposed to end up “endorsed” by the text from the pov of jaime’s character, even if it is tragically ironic? what i am saying is that ig i would be more certain of it happening if cersei did not keep repeating it explicitly atp while jaime is completely contradicting it simultaneously. if they are supposed to doom each other, what is really the point of that divergence? of the deconstruction of such a narrative in jaime’s head? why not send jaime back and have him not make those kind of key choices? jaime’s arc is supposed to be about choices (“whatever he chose…”), and defining his own fate and identity (like you do not even have to believe it is about exploring redemption to get this out of the text), so i really still cannot help but dislike the idea that this is set in stone despite everything that he keeps doing and the choices that he keeps on making. like there is an essentialist aspect to this belief system that i would prefer to be subverted honestly from the perspective of his character. i want all of these choices to have some kind of result (the letter, oathkeeper, the pit, rejecting her because of certain ultimatums even before the cheating reveal, abandoning the pursuit of the brotherhood for the vow to cat in adwd). + the hand that held her foot could have very well been the one that got chopped, so there is symbolism there. he is not tied to her. and that hand loss and “change” is constantly emphasized when it comes to JC. and i really do not want jaime to die before having some kind of confrontation with bran tbh. and i have talked about the widow’s wail thing before. if jaime is gonna wield it (which i think there is a set up for), then he would have to come out of KL alive with it. the weirwood dream also has them separate. her torch being the ‘only light in the world’ is replaced by brienne’s sword’s fire being the only one still burning in his darkness when the ghosts rush in.

this is another argument that i have seen before, and see validity in. george does write that belief system as something that has an element of ‘sociopathy.’ like of course it isn’t meant to be ‘romantic’. and jaime is also growing out of it. his relationship with a lot of characters now, brienne included, is a testament. i do not at all mind if jaime dies down the line, i just really would prefer it if there is some form of triumph over the self when it comes to his ending. i also atm cannot imagine how it would go, and what would cause jaime’s death, and how they would “leave the world together” logistically with the valonqar prophecy existing. so while i think george might be capable of executing it in a way that i could like, and i see that tragic irony working out, i still am not crazy about it as a concept atm for all the reasons above. we will see.

[fandom-puff]

Guard

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Requested by: anon ‘Can I get literally anything with Sandor Clegane? Maybe reader is a highborn child of a lord, and the Hound is hired as their bodyguard. And reader is very flustered around Sandor and can’t help but try to seduce them nervously? And Sandor is secretly digging it but tries to remain stoic and scary. Did that make any sense? I hope that was coherent’

Note: I... got a bit carried away here lol, sorry it took a while to write. also the reader in this is Robert Baratheon’s eldest daughter :)

Warnings: drunk shenanigans, references to sex

Gif creds to owner

“Oh father, honestly. What need have I for a guard?” You sighed, setting your book aside as Robert Baratheon sat across from you. “I can barely leave my chambers without a swarm of mother’s little birds to watch my every move,”

“What good are your ladies maids against would be assassins, Hm?” Robert said gently, brushing your dark hair away from your face. “All they can do is tell your mother you’ve had your throat slit,” you didn’t grimace at his bluntness.

“Surely Joffrey would be the prime target?” You insisted. “He’s heir to the throne seeing as he’s the eldest son. And he’s an ass as well,”

Robert laughed, knowing of your disdain for your younger brother. “I know, my girl, I know. Still, I want you protected, especially when we set off for the north. It took a while to convince your mother but... well, she can’t deny her own bannermen will be the best to serve the job,”

“Lannister bannermen?” You asked, taking your father’s arm as he began to walk you to dinner.

“Aye. Don’t worry, I won’t let the Mountain anywhere near you,” he said, patting your hand gently. “But his brother, Sandor, is to be your guard,”

***

The journey north was... arduous, to put it diplomatically. Your mother was overbearing, Joffrey grew bored, Myrcella was travel-sick from the bumpy road and Tommen was dearly missing Ser Pounce.

When the parade of servants and guards and carriages and luggage stopped for dinner before sun down, you sighed, happy to stretch your legs and get away from the claustrophobic Queen’s litter.

After dinner, you followed your father and uncles to their own carriage, insisting you couldn’t bare another moment of your siblings bickering and your mother trying to get you to sew. Your father allowed it and you smiled as he helped you into the carriage, sitting next to him and across from your uncles. Tyrion smiled at you, asking about the book you were reading. You soon found yourself relaxing, under no pressure from Cersei, being treated as an intellectual equal. You even drank some strong wine (under Robert’s supervision of course) and soon nodded off to sleep against your father’s shoulder the way you used to when you were a girl...

“YN, wake up,” you jolted awake, blinking away your sleepiness.

“Are we at Winterfell?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. Robert smiled fondly.

“Almost, my dear. Your mother is going spare, says you’re to go to her litter right this instant and put your best gown on,” he grinned, nudging you as you rolled your eyes. “Clegane will escort you, he’s outside,” you sighed and nodded, slipping out of the carriage, almost colliding head on with the Hound.

“Princess,” he said, looking down at you and bowing slightly. “I’m to take to you your mother,”

You smiled sweetly up and him, nodding. “Thank you, Ser Clegane,”

“I’m no Ser,” he said firmly.

“Then what should I call you?” You asked, looking up at him expectantly.

“Well... your brother used to just call me Hound, or Dog, princess,” he said, frowning.

You stared up at him, locking eyes with him, taking in his scarred face and stoic expression. “I am not an ignorant arse like my brother. I’m sure your first name shall suffice, Sandor,” you said firmly and he nodded, helping you navigate the uneven ground to your mother’s carriage

***

Your stay at Winterfell was enjoyable, yet suffocating at times. You grew used to the cold rather quickly, donning furs the way the Starks did. You got on well with Sansa, let Arya show you how fast she could run, held Rickon on your hip when he raised his arms up, let Bran quiz you on the different creatures Old Nan had told him about, spoke politics with Robb. You even beckoned the bastard, Jon Snow over after Robb told you they were as close as real brothers. You admired how warm Lady Stark was with her children, and how Lord Stark was firm but fair with them, disciplining them when need be.

Of course, wherever you went, you had a shadow. Sandor Clegane followed your every move, standing just close enough so he could see and hear you, but far away enough to not stifle you. It was odd at first, but you soon got used to it, smiling softly when you found him waiting outside of your allocated chamber each morning. You couldn’t help but be curious about him. Many recoiled in fright when they saw his disfigured face, but you couldn’t care less. It intrigued you. He was... handsome. In a rugged, scary, gigantic way. At night you couldn’t help but let your mind wander... thinking about his strong arms and great height and low, rumbling voice... you often woke in a sweat, despite the frigid wind of the North, your entire body alight with desire.

It was wrong, you knew it was. He was your guard. Father would have his head if anything untoward happened, and your mother would surely condemn you to a life as a Septa. But still... there was something about his powerful presence that stoked the fire within you.

***

There was a firm thud at your door. “Princess, I’m here to take you to the feast,” Sandor’s gruff voice sounded.

“A moment, I’m just... is there a ladies’ maid nearby?” You called

“No, Princess. They are down at the feast with your mother and sister... should I fetch one? Or perhaps the Septa or the Maester, if it’s women’s troubles that are ailing you?”

You rolled your eyes and opened the door. “There’s no need for that, Sandor,” you said firmly. “I’m simply having difficulty trying to do up the clasp on my necklace. Would you...?” You opened your door a little wider, inviting him inside. Sandor hesitated for a moment before following you, his armour rattling with every step. He admired your figure as you walked; you had decided to wear the colours of your house for the Feast. A black gown, embroidered with twisting golden antlers. You stood in front of the mirror, holding out the ends of your pendant. Sandor’s hands brushed against yours as he took the ends, and you couldn’t help but shiver, goosebumps spreading over the swell of your breasts as you swept your hair aside. Sandor gulped, clasping the fiddly chain against the column of your neck, his knuckles caressing gently.

“There,” he said, clearing his throat as he felt your heated skin. “Come on... before your mother castrates me for making you late,”

You smiled gently, walking slightly ahead of him toward the noisy Hall. As you approached the head table, Ned and Catelyn stood, but you quickly gestured for them to sit. “Please, sit. This is your home,” you said gently, allowing Sandor to pull a chair out for you next to your mother.

“Thank you Clegane,” she said coldly, eyes narrowed. “You may leave us now,”

You turned to him and smiled shyly. “Stay,” you said softly.

“YN,” your mother said warningly.

“Sandor, go and enjoy the feast. Have some food and some wine, I’m sure Uncle Jaime and Uncle Tyrion can spare you some. Go. Make Merry,” you said gently and he nodded, bowing slightly.

“Of course, Princess, your majesty,” he said, before stalking away.

You ignored your mother’s disapproving look and engaged in pleasant conversation with Lady Catelyn, mainly about when you were to be wed, but your mother cut across.

“I believe Robert intended to betroth her to your eldest son, but we must consider Joffrey’s future first. He is after all to be king and needs to have heirs,”

“Of course,” Catelyn smiled. “I’m sure a suitor will come shortly,”

You nodded, although your attention was no longer on the conversation; your eyes had drifted to Sandor. For once he was smiling, looking at ease as your uncles poured him more wine, your father laughing jovially with a woman on his lap. “I’m going to see Uncle Jaime,” you said to your mother, who sighed but let you go.

“Ah, YN,” Tyrion smiled as jaime poured you a goblet of wine. “I see you’ve managed to escape your mother’s side,”

“Don’t,” you said, taking the wine and drinking it quickly, sitting yourself next to Sandor. Robert sent the woman on his lap go, frowning at you.

“Careful now, YN, that wine’s stronger than you’re used to,” he warned, but you reached over to clink your goblet with his. Sandor gulped, seeing the curve of your back as you swayed slightly.

“Oh, nonsense, father. I am your daughter after all... and my uncle is the drunkest man in the seven kingdoms. It’d be rather shameful if I couldn’t manage a cup of wine,” you smiled, sitting back down and knocking back another cup as the men roared with laughter.

Your father was right. A few cups of the strong wine later, you were rather giddy, insisting Jaime dance with you. He humoured you, your father and Tyrion laughing and cheering you on while Sandor smiled bemusedly. “Come now, YN... that’s enough for tonight,” Jaime said, helping you stagger back. “She’s drunk,” he grinned as you giggled, sitting yourself back down. Your fathered grinned, allowing you one more cup before smirking.

“Gods above, Cersei will have my head for getting you drunk...” Robert grinned, although he didn’t really look too worried. “Clegane, take her to her rooms and guard the door. Send for the maester if she’s unwell,” Sandor nodded and bowed, watching as you hugged your father goodnight, before taking your arm and guiding you out of the crowded hall.

As you walked through the courtyard of Winterfell, you shivered in the cold, leaning into Sandor a little more, trying to keep up with his wide strides. He helped you up the stairs to your room, rolling his eyes fondly as you giggled when you stumbled. “Come on, Princess, need to get you to bed in one piece,”

“I’d like you to get me in bed, Sandor,” you grinned, nudging him, fuelled by liquid confidence. He said nothing, opening your bedroom door, helping you inside before turning around. “What’re you doing?” You asked indignantly.

“Turning my back so you can get yourself dressed for bed,” he said lowly, gritting his teeth.

“I can’t undo the laces at the back... my ladies’ maid is still at the feast. Help?” You asked, already clumsily undoing your braids. Sandor sighed softly, cursing under his breath as he turned around. You had your back to him, holding your hair out of the way so he could unlace your gown. When you felt his strong hands against your back, caressing with the gentlest touch, you let out a little sigh, leaning back into his touch. Your gown pooled onto the floor, leaving you in your corset and chemise. His breath hitched, unlacing your corset. You smiled, turning around and he quickly averted his eyes- he could see your nipples through the fabric, thanks to the cold.

“C’mon, princess,” he said, clearing his throat, thankful his armour covered his cock; his trousers were feeling uncomfortably tight. “Into bed with you,” you nodded obediently, letting him help you up into the high bed. He pulled the blanket over you, and as he was straightening, you reached up to kiss him. He froze for a moment, before kissing you back gently, stroking your hair. His whole hand almost covered your head as he cupped the back of it gently. Slowly, he pulled away, much to your dismay. “Sleep, princess,” he said softly, pushing you down. You reached up, pouting.

“Stay?” You slurred, eyes already drooping as the alcohol caught up to you.

“I’ll be standing just outside the door, YN,” he said, blowing out the candles. “Can’t keep you safe if I’m in here, can I?”

***

Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @zodiyack @rabeccablake @simonsbluee @wonderwoman292 @little-bit-of-randomness @doozywoozy

[dwellordream]

Could you throw some light on the exact nature of Jaime's relationship with Tommen in the books. It's a widely accepted fact that he doesn't give a shit about any of his biological children,he only cares(or rather cared) for cersei, and for all we know that's probably true(I'm just wasting my energy entertaining alternate fantasies). But I kinda find his relationship with Tommen deeper and genuine than Tommen's relationship with cersei

Well Jaime has very clearly never had much of a relationship with any of his children.

This is partially due to Cersei actively discouraging it from birth onwards (ie. not wanting Jaime to hold them as infants) but he also doesn’t seem to have much of even a ‘normal’ uncle relationship towards them.

Unlike with Tyrion, we never see Myrcella and Tommen running to embrace him, and by and large he doesn’t seem to have really played any role in their lives. Jaime doesn’t know his children as people or express much interest or regret in not being close with them.

He doesn’t feel grief at Joffrey’s death and openly comments to himself more than once about marrying the children together once his fantasy of wedding Cersei is complete, in order to further cement the Lannisters’ proposed royal right to incest (in his head).

Jaime doesn’t even think of Tommen in his internal monologue or refer to him in conversation until he’s back in King’s Landing.

Then we get to Jaime VIII as he tries to whip the Kingsguard back into shape. Jaime expresses general anger at Boros Blount for giving up Tommen so easily on the road to Rosby, and names him Tommen’s food taster, noting that Tommen likes applecakes. That’s the first and one of the only personal things he seems to know about Tommen.

He warns the Kingsguard to not follow Tommen’s whims blindly and to always come to him first if it’s a big decision, such as ordering a horse killed in a fit of rage. We as the readers know gentle Tommen would never do that, but Jaime is all but a stranger to his son.

In Jaime IX, Jaime neutrally observes Tommen during a council meeting, notes how different he is from Joffrey in personality, and comments that he likes to read.

When arguing with Cersei in Jaime I in AFFC, he states coldly that Tommen is no son of his, blaming Cersei for not letting him claim their children as his and jealously insinuating Robert got both her and their kids.

The closest we get to a private heartfelt moment between father and son is:

"Best we go outside, Your Grace." Jaime led the boy out to where the air was as fresh and clean as King's Landing ever got. Twoscore gold cloaks had been posted around the plaza to guard the horses and the litters. He took the king off to the side, well away from everyone, and sat him down upon the marble steps. "I wasn't scared," the boy insisted. "The smell made me sick. Didn't it make you sick? How could you bear it, Uncle, ser?"

I have smelled my own hand rotting, when Vargo Hoat made me wear it for a pendant. "A man can bear most anything, if he must," Jaime told his son. I have smelled a man roasting, as King Aerys cooked him in his own armor. "The world is full of horrors, Tommen. You can fight them, or laugh at them, or look without seeing . . . go away inside."

Tommen considered that. "I . . . I used to go away inside sometimes," he confessed, "when Joffy . . ."

(Jaime I, AFFC)

So there’s the potential for the relationship to evolve into something deeper but unfortunately a number of other factors are preventing that. Jaime expresses a sort of distant fondness for Tommen and clearly doesn’t wish to see him harmed, but he doesn’t view him in a paternal manner or really feel that protective or attached to him. He doesn’t miss Tommen or dwell on him when he leaves the city for the Riverlands.

Unfortunately I’m not sure Jaime will ever see Tommen again.

[hatchetfieldtheories]

Return to Hatchetfield-Town - TGWDLM Part 3

Have I been putting off this part because of sad Bill? Maybe.  Or is it because of all your amazing Ridiculous Hatchetfield Theory submissions? Yeah, you were right the first time.  I just can’t deal with sad Bill.

We left part 2 of the TGWDLM rewatch where the Scooby Gang had turned up at the spooky mansion, which can only go well, and we come back in part 3 as they’ve left the tied up resident bad guy alone with the one person who has a weakness for said bad guy.

Links to previous parts

It’s Ted loving time and I make no apologies for it.

Am I the only one who saw the scene with Ted and Charlotte and immediately got sent back to MAMD’s Joey and Sally?  It’s so good seeing Joey and Jaime acting opposite each other like this again, they both bring the same amount of chaotic brilliance.  

I have no jokes to make for this, I just needed a gif of the “slap” here.  Beautiful.  Iconic.

Here we see a bit of the true Ted, the Ted we see in Time Bastard.  He’s an idiot sure, but its obvious he is actually a hopeless romantic who really cares for Charlotte, underneath an exterior of “sleazeball”. 

When I originally read what happens in Time Bastard I will admit it didn’t really fit with the image I had in my head of Ted.  Ted is first and foremost played for laughs.  He’s selfish and arrogant and funny.  But rewatching TGWDLM, especially with Time Bastard in mind, you do see where Joey let’s Ted’s façade drop.  You see it at a greater extent later when Charlotte dies and Ted goes off on one to Bill.  But you also see it here (I’m sorry Ted fans):

Serious gifs, who is she?

Now. What’s happening in this next little scene? Are we ready for some tin foil hatting?

What do you want Charlotte?

Continuing our theme of characters explaining what they want in clear and certain terms, Charlotte starts praying to God, then Sam wakes up.  Was Sam waiting for everyone else to leave before “waking up” in order to target Charlotte?  Or were Charlotte’s prayers answered by an Eldritch being with the capability to control the Creedy Chorus?  Later Sam says that he “saw god”.  

In Black Friday, Linda attempts to issue in the “birth of a god.”  God is certainly a word the Devil Dolls are happy to attribute to themselves.  Somehow I don’t think it would have mattered if they had gone to a Methodist or Presbyterian church.

Opinion time: Tied Up My Heart is a full on rock bop and deserves way more praise and acclaim. You could have told me this song was from Rock of Ages and I would believed you.

“Don’t you twust me” – serious Wiggly vibes there Sam.

This is kinda catchy Sam!

In part two we briefly discussed when Hidgens became infected, and there is some theories that believe he was infected from the moment he touched the blue brain goo, leading to Show Stopping Number happening.

Charlotte was infected the minute she touched Sam’s brains.  Like Hidgens, it happened slowly, but its very clear it had begun to take root in this song.  Tied Up My Heart is to Charlotte, what Let It Out is to Paul.  They both find themselves dancing without meaning to, they both begin to hear the music.  I’ve mentioned previously that Tied Up My Heart is the only song in which there is an offstage chorus, which would be strange unless for the first time we’re hearing the show as Charlotte is hearing it – she’s beginning to hear the rest of the Hive.

 The only difference between Charlotte and Paul is their wants during these pivotal numbers.  Paul is trying harder to fight the song because his want is to destroy the meteor.  Charlotte isn’t able to fight the song because her want is Sam… and the song is giving her that. 

I think this is the part of the musical where most people pause and proclaim… what the hell am I watching. Which, you know… valid.

Can anyone tell me what foreshadowing is?

Ted just casually predicting the ending of the show.  Take out the head and the whole thing falls down – an historically inaccurate statement in the proceedings of Hatchetfield’s apocalypses.

Exhibit A – Taking out the meteor does not stop the hive.

Exhibit B – Sending a Nuke into the Black and White does not stop Wiggly.

I don’t know what Nerdy Prudes will be about but heads up to the characters – maybe don’t try and destroy the root of the issue as your solution.

Obviously there is a lot of story in Emma and Paul’s discussion here, a lot of which gets unpacked and revisited in Forever and Always, but I’m not really going to delve into the specifics of it here.  My biggest take away from this conversation is that Emma explains her past, and her intentions for the future, but at no point is it ever clear what her want is. 

In a musical where character’s are killed because they want something, is it any wonder Emma is the one who survives at the end?  She doesn’t have any big, ultimate want.  She’s jaded and tired, until the end… when what she wants is for Paul to have survived.

This shows a clear distinction between how Pokey and Wiggly operate (and the others, but we’ll discuss them when we get to Nightmare Time.)  Both of these Bothersome Brothers use wanting as their tool of chaos but in very different ways.

Pokey wants you to want something, in order to tempt you with that in order to destroy you.

Wiggly wants to find holes to fill with exaggerated, artificial echoes of a want.

The new game at Toy Zone – Bop Ted

Does anyone else forget for a bit how amazing Jaime’s voice is and then finds themselves entranced when Join Us and Die happens?  I’m sure there is some lore in this song but I’m far too distracted.

If we refer back to our Violence over Time chart from part two of the rewatch you will see we have now fully arrived at the point where the Hive has stopped trying to just entice everyone with fluffy feelings before murdering them, and are now just resorting to “we’re gonna kill you and it’ll hurt a lot.”

I know there is plenty of discussion regarding whether Hidgens is good or bad, infected or not infected etc – but none of that matters.  What matters is he makes the same crappy puns I make in inappropriate situations and I think that’s beautiful.

“The Charlotte you knew and loved was gone the minute a note came out her mouth.” – Snape’s back with the foreshadowing again.

Hidgens then proceeds to subject our heroes to a very intricate test to find out who is human, and who is the musical Doppleganger (one of the AJ Holmes fans there).  I’ve seen Moana once, and I became obsessed with the bioluminescent crab so I don’t remember any of the other songs apart from Shiny.  This is a problem because the only other song I know from Moana has now become Paul’s version of whatever it is he is singing. I refuse to believe there is any other version of that song.

“Their tactic is to hide amongst us, and as their numbers grow, they become more bold.” – yes Hidgens – we’ve all seen the chart.

Acting Masterclass with Corey Dorris

Bill gets a phone call from Alice, she’s stuck at Hatchetfield High and her girlfriend and the other kids have become singing and dancing zombies.  Is this a prequel to High School Musical?

Its worth noting that Alice has locked herself in the Choir room – Hatchetfield High’s number one place to hide when things are going badly - x

Look what happened Nightmare Time.  

Corey Dorris’ face pulls on every heart string I possess.  Not Your Seed is a fantastic song, with some superb singing by Mariah, but the heart of this song is Corey.  Bill is a broken man from the moment he echoes Alice’s words that Grace Chastity is a Nerdy Prude. And the voice crack!

Small warning here for a very brief discussion about suicide. If you want to skip past scroll to the next gif.

The song is an attempt to bring Bill to the Hive, but I think the plan from the start was to push him to shoot himself. Bill wants his daughter back, he wants her to be a part of his life, but unlike with Charlotte, where Hive!Sam attempts to convince her he’s not really dead and wants her, Hive!Alice uses Bill’s want to break him further and further, swinging between Alice’s love and disdain for her father.  This isn’t an attempt to lay a trap and kill him when he falls in it, it’s a blatant push towards him killing himself.  The Hive only picked up the gun because Paul was there to stop him.

I also find the mirror of this moment to later in Watcher World very fascinating.  We obviously know Pokey and Blinky are brothers, and I wonder if the set up leading Alice to point a gun at Bill in Watcher World is Blinky’s twisted humour, echoing what he knows happened in another timeline.  A horrible joke that would be lost on Bill and Alice in that timeline, but very recognisable to all of us Watchers.

Once again the Hive could have easily killed Paul, but they don’t.  They make a big song and dance (get it?) out of how the guns not good enough to kill him with and then they start singing at him just in time for the army to turn up.  The Hive had no intention of killing Paul yet, though obviously they can’t let him know that.  Paul has been chosen as their Hero.  He’s got work to do.

Hatchetfield High Homework

Just the one this week, I’m currently doing an Ask series where I attempt to make ridiculous sounding Hatchetfield Theories make sense.  You can find them by searching Ridiculous Hatchetfield Theories.  Go and have a look and follow the wonderful people sending them in.

When the rewatch returns, we get our first peep into the world of PEIP.

[evax3]

what’s your opinion on parallels ppl like to draw?

like

sansa & lysa vs Sansa & Cat

Jon & rhaehar vs jon & lyanna

Aegon & Rhaehar vs Aegon & Elia

Dany & Aegon I vs Dany & Aerys

Arya & Lyanna vs Arya & Brandon

Sansa & Lyanna vs Sansa & Cersei

Arya & Cat vs Arya & Ned

Thanks so much for stopping by anon and for leaving this really cool question! I’m such a sucker for parallels and symbolism, so I do have a few opinions about these characters (Sansa, Dany and Jon under the cut – no opinions about Aegon) and had a lot of fun writing them down!! ❤️

Arya

What I really liked, and what stood out for me the most (in the show), is that after Arya accepted that she wasn't No One but indeed Arya Stark of Winterfell and came back to Westeros, she very much took on Ned's appearance. She gets dressed and wears her hair the same way Ned does, and shows confidentially that she takes right after her father, where her being the only one in the pack (beside Jon) who inherited the Stark-look (long face, brown hair, and grey eyes) wasn’t something she was actually proud of as a child. 

There are many more parallels between these two (the Baratheon friendship, the dislike of the southern culture and the people at court, their sense of loyalty, …) but what I like most is her understanding of the death sentence and how Arya has internalized Ned's teachings. The one who speaks the sentence must also carry out the killing. It is the opposite of what she is taught by the faceless men and in the end it is also one of the reasons why she realizes that she can never be truly No One. Which, I guess, is why she showed her face to every one of her kills that was on her list of names (at least in the show, but I'm sure it will be similar in the books).

I never thought much about the parallels to Lyanna, except that she also had the typical look from the north and was also much wilder than is expected for a noble-born woman. Probably it is one of the reasons why Ned encourages Arya’s nature instead of scolding her for it. But I think it says more about the relationship Ned had with either his sister and his daughter.

As for Cate I think the most striking parallel is probably their cunning. Which Sansa also inherited from her mother, and Ned unfortunately never managed to master, because he is too driven by honor. As women, all three are underestimated in this world, and yet (and perhaps because of this) manage to outsmart the men around them. For example, when Arya names Jaqen H'ghar as her third name in order to escape from Harrenhal, that was pretty damn clever and something that her mother would have done as well. 

Also, and sadly, their desire for vengeance is something that shapes and drives both characters (referring to Lady Stoneheart in the books) too. Because of that, I'm really curious if they will ever meet (if the next book ever gets published) and if there will be any revenge for Arya against the Frey's at all. 

Sansa

Just as Arya takes on Ned's appearance, Sansa does it with Catelyn's in the later seasons. I think this is particularly interesting because in the beginning, during her time in KL, she copied Cersei's hair and clothes, and later she copied Margaery’s. It shows her role models at each stage and it's particularly striking that at the end she takes on her mother's look, just as Cersei adapts that of her father Tywin. 

Even if the comparison between Arya and Lyanna is drawn much more often, I always found that Sansa and her aunt have much more parallels. The beauty of the two is something that is often highlighted in the story, emphasized, for example, as Rhaegar names Lyanna the queen of love and beauty at the tourney at Harrenhal, similar to Loras giving Sansa a rose at the Hand's tourney. I suspect that for both women this circumstance has led to their intelligence and other abilities being greatly underestimated, if not overlooked, in their very male-dominated world. 

Fortunately, Sansa has the chance to evolve into self-empowerment, which I think is the main focus of her journey, whereas Lyanna died way too early to achieve that. She was forced to marry a man she didn't want (Robert), (as was Sansa btw), so Lyanna saw the only way to prevent that in running away with Rhaegar. And I can imagine that early Sansa, the little romantic that she is, would have made a similar decision. 

I don't like that many say Sansa acts like Cersei in the later seasons because she admires her. I don't think that's the case at all. Cersei only acts out of self-interest (and sometimes, especially in the books, quite stupidly). Sansa, on the other hand, does what is right for her people. She combines her mother's strength with her father's understanding of the Northerners. 

She is cunning as Cate, which is not a bad quality per se, and develops an understanding when someone tries to manipulate her. At the same time, she always has the well-being of her people in focus, which Cersei definitely doesn’t. Which is why I think Sansa is a good queen and is just right to take Robb's place (the obvious choice if she were a man) and Cersei is absolutely terrible at her job.

Jon

I have to say, for Jon it’s almost the hardest to give an accurate answer, because the character (especially in the later seasons) differs a lot between book and show.  Regarding the show, I would say that Jon doesn’t have much in common with his birth parents, because he really is the reincarnation of Ned, the honorable fool, as he calls himself. Always trying to do the right thing, even if it goes against his heart’s desire.  

Rhaegar, on the other hand, does exactly the opposite in the plot for which we know him best. And even if his relationship with Lyanna is often categorized as incredibly romantic, it is one thing above all: selfish. Show!Jon couldn't be more the opposite.

Jon is a good leader, as Rhaegar was, or at least is praised to be. Both have melancholic tendencies, and at least book!Jon, has a tendency to sarcasm (at least in his thoughts) where it is said about Rhaegar , he often had an ironic undertone in his voice (according to Jaime)

Rhaegar is musical, interested in the fine arts, Jon doesn't really show interest in that. What they do have in common is a belief in something that is more than what the eye perceives. For Rhaegar this means believing in prophecies and such things, and Jon is not atheistic either, even if he lives out his beliefs in the Old Gods less than some other characters. Both of them are highly valued by their followers and I think also for both of them this is a quality that shapes their character a lot. 

Still, I have to say that for me the background of Rhaegar and Lyanna's relationship, the consequences especially for Elia and her children, but also for the whole country will always be in the spotlight.  

I've already read several metas that say book!Jon takes more after his birth father because his motives and actions are also less moral (e.g. only giving food to the people of the Free Folk who are willing to fight for the Night's Watch – a huge difference to the show version). Still, I would say Jon is more pragmatic than selfish, another area where Rhaegar would have needed to catch up if he’d been given the chance.

Daenerys

Whereas it was more difficult for me to think about Rhaegar's positive qualities in relation to Jon, I have to say that it was easier for me in relation to Dany. This might be because Daenerys is so frequently compared to Rhaegar as a compliment. Not only in her looks, but also with her intelligence, her determination and in the love that her people have for her. Ser Barristan calls him determined, deliberate, dutiful, and single-minded, all positive qualities that also apply to Dany.

As for Aerys, it's also hard to draw parallels. As I said in another post, I think the Targaryen madness is not really madness (being crazy) but more an obsession, whether it's about religion, dragons, or with Dany, her desire to liberate her people. What we know about Aerys, however, shows that he was indeed sick, paranoid, after his captivity. That is something different and not something I see or suspect with Dany. 

What I have found, though, are explanations about the young Aerys, which at some points apply to her:

In his youth, while not being the most intelligent, nor the most diligent of princes, he was described as having an undeniable charm. He was generous, handsome and resolute, although somewhat quick to anger. 

In the same paragraph, however, it is said that he was vain, proud, and fickle, qualities that made him easy prey for sycophants and sycophants. While Dany is proud, she quickly develops over the course of the story into a person who sees through the manipulation attempts of those around her and is clever enough to avoid them. 

There might be a possibility that through a traumatic experience (like for Viserys selling his mother's crown) her obsession finally drives her to take more drastic measures to achieve her goal. However, I think it's unlikely that Dany actually drifts into absolute madness like her father and burns down an entire city without thinking. She is much too reflective for that. Should she actually go completely ‘Fire and Blood’, then I think it will be a very conscious decision, rather than an impulsive one.

[nitewrighter]

Heya, Mun!! :Dc

I absolutely adored the Thing fic with the fankids!!! And I was wondering if there would be a continuation/part 2/sequel to that fic? Or was the gang's leaving through the elevator them leaving to safety? I was just imagining them just unwittingly sinking deeper into the bowels of that lab for more terrifying encounters! I hope you're doing well!!! :DDD

(Referring back to this fic)

The elevator was supposed to be them going up to safety, but I think followup would be interesting...

----

Winston, Jack, Mei, and Mercy were all seated at the conference table, opposite of Marti, Aedan, Jaime, and Samir. A part of Aedan was relieved that the people looking at their debrief was mostly scientists, but it still made his stomach turn as Jack frowned at his tablet.

“...a blob,” said Jack Morrison, glancing up from the tablet that held the team’s debrief, “...you went into the Talon lab, and you were attacked by a blob.”

“A mass of nanites and human tissue, yes,” said Samir.

“A blob,” said Jaime.

“It’s unclear if it was attacking or attempting to communicate,” said Marti, not fully making eye contact with him. Jack’s wrinkled brow furrowed wincingly at her own words, lending further reality to the events described to him. Jaime had bullshitted him before, and Aedan and Samir both had a habit of launching off into multiple tangents that suggested muddled observation, but Marti had eyes on a mission that he could count on as his own--probably better than his own, with his age.

“Was--was this like back at Urdr, or--?” said Jack.

“You have to understand, this wasn’t a nanite amalgam,” said Aedan, “It had human DNA. In all likelihood, it had your DNA.”

“And Reyes’s,” Samir added in as Jack paled.

“So, what, this was a failed attempt before they made the woman that attacked you back in Japan?” said Jack.

“Andrea,” said Aedan.

Jack gave him an odd look, mulling over the name.  

“Her name is Andrea,” said Aedan.

“From the Greek ‘Andros,’ ‘of man,’” Winston chimed in, “Quite a clever name considering her--” Jack shot a look at Winston and Winston cleared his throat.

“Yes--We’re pretty sure the lab was the site, or a site, where they were attempting to clone you and Reyes,” said Marti.

“And you said you sealed the lab behind you?” said Winston, looking at Marti.

“We could open it again, with decryption,” said Marti.

“Don’t really want to do that anytime soon though...” said Jaime.

“And you said it apparently ‘fed’ on biotics and... biomass?” said Mercy, looking at her own tablet.

“Our working theory is that it must have consumed several scientists, forcing Talon to abandon the site,” said Samir.

“If it made it out, it could spell ecological disaster for the surrounding area,” murmured Mei.

“Well, that might be dependent on how... resilient it is,” said Aedan, “I mean, just outside that lab is unforgiving snowy peaks and glacial ocean. If it has human DNA, it might be subject to similar limitations.”

“So it can be killed,” said Jack.

Aedan paled.

“If it’s sealed in the lab, it could just... starve to death on its own, right?��� said Jaime.

“With the artificial aging on clones and biotics basically shutting down decomposition on the clones that were still in their amnio-tanks, it’s not actually clear how long its been down there,” said Aedan. His gaze had become fixed on the wood of the table, “But based on how it reacted to our presence...”

“I think it was hungry,” said Jaime.

Aedan could feel Mercy’s eyes on him, studious, discerning, and he wanted to shrink into his chair and disappear.

“If the lab is sealed, I think we can assume it doesn’t currently present a threat to the surrounding area,” said Winston.

“So, we just stick a pin in the secret lab in Cordillera Darwin that has a cannibalistic human-nanite blob lurking around in it?” said Jack.

“Well, we could call in Interpol,” said Winston.

Aedan tensed in his seat at the mental image of a wall of armed agents of some unknown country fixing their sights on the blob.

“We still don’t know the extent of how much Talon may have infiltrated the UN or different governments,” said Jack.

Mercy shuddered, “Just as well, if the existence of such an organism becomes mainstream knowledge, it could kick off a biological arms race. Even governments who abhor Talon’s biological experiments may see the need to create their own... projects... to try and counter it.”

“Keeping secrets never went particularly well for us, either,” said Jack.

“Mei and I could test the waters with other scientists in our correspondence,” said Mercy, “Get a gauge on how desperate other countries might be with regards to Talon’s research...”

“We could have Athena re-direct one of our satellites to send us more regular updates of imagery of the area if anything changes,” suggested Mei, “I could set up cryo-mines to stop it without too much damage to the lab...”

“If it could be frozen...” said Winston.

“if I had some samples of it... just to get a better idea of what we’re up against...” Mercy started.

“Why are we against it?” said Aedan, his voice came out as a flinch. “It didn’t ask to be made, but now we’re talking about killing it like it’s--it’s-- some sort of infection!”

“We didn’t say we would kill it,” said Winston.

“Only that it could be killed--” Aedan argued.

“It’s not an infection--” Mei started calmly.

“You said it was an ecological threat!”

“It consumes biomass---” Mei started.

“It has human DNA---” Aedan’s voice was overlapping with hers, “What, because it’s ugly? Because it’s a blob?”

“Even if it has intelligence, it’s highly likely that intelligence was also shaped by Talon’s brainwashing. If it’s smart, it could be as hell-bent on destroying us as that other cl--Andrea,” said Jack.

“But LaCroix came back from it!” said Aedan, “What, it comes into the world with no context except what Talon pumped into it and we just decide it’s a monster!? Let it be locked away in that lab or--?”

Aedan felt a hand on his shoulder and he glanced sharply over at Marti. “What?!” he snapped.

“...it tried to eat us,” said Marti.

“I--” Aedan inhaled and found his breath was short. Aedan wasn’t sure what he was arguing. He could remember the sheer terror of that thing pursuing him, the sheer horror that it came from an amnio-tank like he did. For a few mad flailing seconds he wondered if this was some instinct his mother implanted in him--an unconscious kinship with the monstrous, some mental building block for the world she wanted to build--no, no, too much speculation, too much spiraling. “I’m emotionally compromised,” Aedan said, standing up, “If you require further details on the debrief, you can call me but--I--I need some air.”

“Aedan--” Samir started as he stood up but Aedan was already out the door.

“...so... putting a pin in it?” said Winston, after a long pause.

----

David Bowie’s ‘Quicksand’ warbled through Aedan’s earbuds as he listened to the song on his comm and sat on the small bench in the Watchpoint garden. Aedan closed his eyes and took in the smell of upturned earth and orange blossoms on the ocean air. The sunlight glowed red through his eyelids, but he opened his eyes as he felt a shadow pass over him and startled slightly to see Mercy blocking the sun. He tensed a bit. “...is... there something you need, Doctor Ziegler?” he said warily.

“May I sit?” said Mercy.

Aedan scooted over and she took a seat next to him on the garden bench. A long silence passed between them.

“You know, we planted that olive tree over there when Rei was born,” Mercy said, pushing brightness into her voice and pointing at an olive tree with some canvas spread beneath it to catch the falling olives.

“Yes, she, um... told me when she gave me the tour,” said Aedan.

“Oh,” said Mercy. And they sat in silence a while longer. Aedan couldn’t recall a time when Mercy had ever actively sought him out, and she seemed too awkward to have any malice in her actions--not that it was really in character for her to go out of her way to be malicious to him, but he knew his presence in general made her uncomfortable, especially with regards to Rei. Mercy clasped her hands together in her lap.

“Aedan--” she started.

“Look--” Aedan started speaking at the same time but he caught himself and glanced down, “Sorry. You go first.”

“I... wanted to apologize for that debriefing,” said Mercy, “Of course it was standard procedure that those on the mission be present, and given the nature of the mission, it was important that you were there, but we should have taken more care.”

“I know... time sensitive,” said Aedan, slouching his elbows onto his knees.

“And... I apologize for the precedent I’ve set in how I’ve treated you,” said Mercy.

Aedan blinked. “What?”

“You threw all security and your entire future with Talon away to save Rei, but I still viewed you as a potential threat to us for months,” said Mercy.

“Well... that’s fair,” Aedan said a little helplessly, not really sure what to say, “I mean, given the history with LaCroix---”

“And we all rationalized it as that for all that time when it must have been incredibly lonely to you,” said Mercy.

“I was scared of it, too,” Aedan blurted out.

“What?” said Mercy.

“I--I was scared Mum put something in me. Something in my head. Some unconscious set of automatic orders that I would follow just when we’d all let our guard down,” his breath shook a little, “I even looked for it--Master Zenyatta helped me search for it in my head--some Shambali hypnosis thing--but it wasn’t there. But a part of me’s still scared of it,” Aedan threaded his thin fingers into his red hair, “Zenyatta said, maybe this fear is some... manifestation of having this-this consciousness just... propped up within me all at once. Like... I don’t have... the physical chronology so my brain keeps thinking there has to be something more and then jumping to the worst conclusion---” he curled his knuckles against his forehead, “Seeing that thing in that lab--Mum made me to prove that nanite organisms can survive infancy--and once Talon knew they could do that, they just started making....” His other hand unconsciously went over the point on his solarplexus where Andrea’s fist had torn out of him, “They just... started making...” He drew a steadying breath before letting his hand drop from his solarplexus.

He felt a gentle hand on his back and his head jerked over to look at Mercy. She was looking at him gently.

“I don’t know what I could say that could comfort you,” Mercy said quietly, “I wish I did.”

“Honestly I’m still kind of processing the fact that you’re even listening to me right now,” said Aedan.

Mercy snorted. “Fair,” she said with a slight nod before looking over at him, “Have you... mentioned any of this to Rei?”

“I’ve heaped enough clone hangups on her,” muttered Aedan, “And she’s scared enough about Mnemosyne nearly being used on her back in Urdr without me adding my anxieties to the list.”

“You shouldn’t think like that,” said Mercy.

“Like what?”

“Making yourself smaller and living with a problem rather than working through it,” said Mercy, “But... you could talk to me, or Genji, or Zenyatta about it. There was a time when Genji had a lot of anxieties about how human he was, as well.”

“Oh--Uh, thank you,” said Aedan, honestly more than a little intimidated at the prospect of talking to Rei’s father.

“You’re a part of this team, and you’ve proven that plenty of times,” Mercy went on, “And... we wanted you in that debriefing not just because you were on the mission, but I think... we thought you might know better than anyone how to deal with..”

“A giant cannibalistic human tissue nanite blob that we’re not even sure is sentient?” said Aedan.

“Yes,” Mercy caught herself, “But I don’t mean ‘deal with’ like--”

“I understand,” said Aedan. He paused, “I--I don’t want to kill it. Or hurt it. Not unless we have to, and not until we understand it more.”

“I agree,” said Mercy.

“Maybe it could even help you find that cure for Reyes,” Aedan mentioned offhandedly.

Mercy gave him a slightly shrewd look.

“I knew it crossed your mind,” said Aedan, he caught himself, “But--it can’t be a lab rat, either...” his voice trailed off a little, “I wonder if it’s in pain right now...Maybe it had been down there so long, the nanites in it couldn’t distinguish between loneliness and hunger...” 

A softness filled Mercy’s eyes and she tilted her head at him slightly. 

“What?” said Aedan.

“You know... your mother was always trying to push humanity to something... beyond human. I just think it’s very special that you try to see humanity in what we don’t understand.”

Aedan scratched at his temple blankly, weighing her words for a few long seconds. “Uh... thank you.”

Another pause passed between them, not uncomfortable, but both ruminating on passing over a threshold of mutual discomfort into a sort of cautious familiarity. 

“Does loneliness sometimes feel like hunger to you?” said Mercy, her brow crinkling slightly with some amused curiosity, “With your nanites?”

“Well, I don’t know if the connection is that direct, but sometimes I feel them... perking up when I’m with Rei, and I wonder if they’re responding to the biotics her body naturally--” Aedan realized he said the words ‘perking up’ and ‘her body’ regarding Rei to Rei’s mother, instantly caught himself, and noted that Mercy’s face had shifted from gentle curiosity to maternal alarm. He cleared his throat. “Er--I mean... it’s probably psychosomatic---It’s not like I feel the same around a biotic rifle---That is---nanites are--You know what? I’m going to stop talking.”

“Mm,” Mercy forced a nod, “Yes. I think this is a good point to stop.”

“Good talk?” said Aedan.

“Good talk,” Mercy huffed before standing up. 

“And--Doctor Ziegler?” Aedan said as Mercy started to walk away. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Thank you,” said Aedan, “Really.” 

Mercy smiled a little. 

[aviss]

Can you do a follow up on your unplanned pregnancy trope??

Hi Anon, it’s taken me a bit to get about it but here’s the continuation of the unplanned pregnancy short fic, I hope you like it.

"I'm going to be a father."

Jaime had the pleasure of seeing his brother choking on a mouthful of wine, spraying it all over himself and the table, red droplets staining the white cloth even as a waiter came to try to clean the disaster. Tyrion shot him a betrayed look, still gasping for air, and daintily cleaned his mouth with his napkin and apologized to the waiter before refilling his glass.

Jaime grinned, that had been the reaction he had hoped for. Had owed it to his brother since the time he sent Shae to him for pregnant care as his way of giving Jaime the same news. 

Payback was a bitch.

"I didn't even know you were seeing someone," Tyrion said once he regained the breath to speak, still looking disgruntled. It was a good look on him.

"I wasn't, now I am," Jaime said, unhelpfully. He was enjoying this.

Tyrion narrowed his eyes at him. "Since when?"

"Going on two weeks now." 

And what two weeks they had been, Jaime had been walking on a cloud the entire time, a smile carved on his face since the moment Brienne had confirmed what her paperwork said and that she wanted to see him again, to try a relationship with him. 

Jaime had given up on ever finding her again, holiday flings were never meant to come up again and her leaving while he slept was possibly a kindness. He fell too deep and too fast but had never had that kind of immediate chemistry with any of the women he bedded, and very rarely had wanted a repeat performance. He had thought about her frequently since the end of his vacation, she had already left the Summer Island but Jaime had just arrived and the rest of the week he had spent there had paled in comparison with that day. 

He had come back to work, and when he'd had his monthly dinner with his brother, Tyrion had taken a look at him and told him he didn't know how to take a vacation. "You look more miserable than when you left, I didn't think that would be possible." Tyrion got the whole sorry tale of it with the help of lots of wine. "Only you, Jaime, would travel thousands of miles and fall for a one night stand on the other side of the world. Only you."

"And she's already pregnant?" Tyrion exclaimed now, brows climbing up his forehead. 

Jaime took a drink of his own glass of wine, his smile widening. "She's about five months along, four months and twenty-three days to be precise."

Four months and eight days of Jaime thinking about her, about where she could be and how much of an idiot he had been for not asking for her phone number or even her surname. 

Two weeks of daily dates, spending all the time they could with each other, learning all the things they had not shared during their day together. 

Jaime had learned she was named after the island with the waters as blue as her eyes, that Brienne was the curator of a medieval history museum and taught fencing in her spare time. She had told him, during their third date, that she had no living family but her friends filled that space. 

"He would spoil the baby so much," she had said, eyes wet with tears and voice rough with old grief, and Jaime had held her tight and promised to do it in his stead.

Jaime had also learned that she was ticklish all the way down her right side but not the left, that she would scream and trash and come a second time if he kept pressing his tongue to her clit and his fingers inside of her as she came down from her orgasm, that her breasts were delightfully sensitive now, and that she loved being on top of him, holding his wrists and moving slowly until Jaime begged for mercy. 

Had also learned her hair was untamable in the mornings, and that Brienne had a light snoring snuffle when she fell asleep in the couch after a movie and would startle awake because of it. She had cold feet she pushed ruthlessly against Jaime's legs at night, and was very grumpy in the mornings since she couldn't drink coffee. That her kisses tasted like ginger tea first thing in the morning and like home the rest of the time.

And that had only been two weeks, he couldn't wait to learn more things about her.

"You found her," Tyrion said, snapping him back to the present. 

Nobody had ever accused his brother of being slow on the uptake. 

"She found me," he admitted, telling his brother about how she had come to him referred by her doctor, how his heart had hammered against his chest reading the file and seeing the name Brienne. He had thought it would be just a coincidence, the name had become quite popular thanks to the Long Night books and show, and when he'd looked up and seen her there, just as tall and striking as he remembered, her belly not quite as flat as the day he had his tongue and fingers trace every inch of it. 

"And you're sure it's yours? Didn't you use protection? You're sure she's not after your money?" Tyrion asked, the way Jaime knew he was going to. He might not care about the money or the family name, but his brother had always been wary of people associating with them because of it. With reason.

"We did use protection, but--" he trailed off, embarrassed. They had bought one of those vending machine condom packets on their way to Jaime's rooms but they had not been enough. When they had used them all and Jaime was raring to go again, he had remembered the old one in his wallet. He should have checked properly, it had been there for a long time, but he had been too tired, too horny, and a bit drunk on both wine and her skin. He had not been especially surprised when he had found it broken as he was cleaning the detritus around the bed the next morning but without a way to contact her there hadn't been anything he could do.

Tyrion's face did something complicated and then he started laughing so hard the people from the closest table glared at them. "Only you, Jaime." He shook his head, fondly exasperated, and took his glass again. "I've wanted to meet this woman since you came back from your holiday lovelorn and pining for a woman whose surname you didn't know."

Jaime thought of Brienne had she had been the day before, with her blue sundress and the flowers in her hair, looking radiant as she leaned to whisper in his ear. "Are you sure about this?" 

Jaime had rarely been surer of anything in his life and he had just kissed her as a reply. "I already know how I feel about you, that's not going to change if we wait for a year."

She had smiled and kissed him while the judge looked at them with an impatient tilt of his mouth. "Let's do it."

"Lannister," he said now, laughing when his brother sprayed the wine over the table again and hoping Brienne was getting the same kind of reactions from her friends. "Her surname is Lannister."

…

[agentrouka-blog]

Jon and Ygritte - rotten moral code? Nah, just setting up Jonsa.

If there is one thing that had me uncertain if Jon is good enough for my Darling Angel Sansa, it’s this:

He could feel the throb of pain where her arrow had gone through the meat and muscle of his thigh. He remembered the old man's eyes too, and the black blood rushing from his throat as the storm cracked overhead. But he remembered the grotto best of all, the look of her naked in the torchlight, the taste of her mouth when it opened under his. Ygritte, stay away. Go south and raid, go hide in one of those roundtowers you liked so well. You'll find nothing here but death. (ASOS, Jon VII)

Gosh, it was sure bad when she murdered that innocent, unarmed old man. But wow, what a hottie. “Go south and raid”? Raid?? Seriously, you want her to kill even MORE innocent people because it’s such swell fun for her? What the hell is wrong with you??

Ygritte was much in his thoughts as well. He remembered the smell of her hair, the warmth of her body . . . and the look on her face as she slit the old man's throat. You were wrong to love her, a voice whispered. You were wrong to leave her, a different voice insisted. He wondered if his father had been torn the same way, when he'd left Jon's mother to return to Lady Catelyn. He was pledged to Lady Stark, and I am pledged to the Night's Watch. (ASOS, Jon VI)

Wrong to leave her. Hm. Yeah. If that’s your preferred lifestyle, Jon. By all means. 

And, dude, I get that your relationship with Catelyn was very painful and that you never even met your mother, but that comparison is just insulting to BOTH women. And Ned. By all the Seven, get a grip, Jon.

"Who is Ygritte?" Donal Noye asked pointedly.

"A woman of the free folk." How could he explain Ygritte to them? She's warm and smart and funny and she can kiss a man or slit his throat. "She's with Styr, but she's not . . . she's young, only a girl, in truth, wild, but she . . ." She killed an old man for building a fire. His tongue felt thick and clumsy. The milk of the poppy was clouding his wits. "I broke my vows with her. I never meant to, but . . ." It was wrong. Wrong to love her, wrong to leave her . . . "I wasn't strong enough. The Halfhand commanded me, ride with them, watch, I must not balk, I . . ." His head felt as if it were packed with wet wool. (ASOS, Jon VI)

This is one of the few things I find deeply, deeply disconcerting about Jon. This willingness to overlook the murder of an innocent man, to let it be overshadowed by the memory of, essentially, her naked chest. 

Jon Boy, I get that you were a love-starved little bastard weasel and you miss the intimacy of a relationship, but she is literally a cold-blooded killer. And she treated you like a possession. How are you justifying this. 

Seriously, the only saving grace here is that Jon is maybe 15 or 16 and emotionally starved and has zero experience with what a good relationship would be like. Ygritte was neither particularly warm, nor smart (AT ALL!) and I cannot judge the funny. But she most certainly was a violent, murdering invader. And Jon really really really wants to be in denial about that. 

At the worst, this tells us Jon is extremely superficial in his core values. A sham of a character. But that doesn’t gel with what we’ve seen of him elsewhere.

At best, however, this underlines how very very very much Jon longs to be loved, how much it will mean to him when he experiences it. This is the only interpretation that ameliorates his moral failure here just a little bit. This angle also gives us a glimpse into the future.

We already saw Jon mature a lot over the course of AFFC and ADWD. He does still refer to Ygritte in his head as a mentor. But the romantic relationship fades far into the background. He has better priorities, but that longing for love is likely not dead. 

GRRM is obviously setting up something to do with Dany, here. Violent invader open to romance… It’s Dany. GRRM either means to create plausible doubt about Jon’s true feelings if he wants to toy with the reader about political!Jon, OR to set up another bout of actual denial if Jon is bound to Dany on an honest, emotional level.

But. 

The first option will be tricky to pull off, without erasing Jon’s POV for far too long, so why bother for just one short-term surprise? It’d be as bad as the show. GRRM is better than that.

If it was the second option played straight, I would lose all my respect for Jon. And I would find it boring. It would mean that Jon has literally not grown, at all. It would mean that whatever relationship he develops with whatever Stark he encounters before Dany - Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, Benjen, I don’t even care - would not have enough depth to outweigh whatever an emotionally stunted child woman (fascinating character arc, but really, she’s not that interesting on an interpersonal level) can offer him. He would be as ignorant about a proper relationship as he had been with Ygritte. As willing to compromise basic moral standards for emotional comfort and a good time between the sheets.

Or GRRM is simply setting up a contrast.

The fact THAT Jon was having these extremely questionable impulses of bargaining when it comes to Ygritte’s character back when he was a wee little stupid baby, actually makes me fairly confident that he won’t struggle so hard do the same with Dany when he encounters her as a “man grown”. 

Because there would be absolutely nothing interesting about Ygritte 2.0. with dragons. Murdering invader who looks good naked, yay! My family disapproves: what surprising, heart-rending tension. She kills people but she is so pretty: what inner turmoil. She is miraculously pregnant with the fruit of our incest, but I love her, it’s all good. Go south and raid, Dany Darling! I am aghast by your killings but, gosh, so torn because you are so full of.. um.. yeah. No.

But it would be very interesting to see Jon understand the difference between a good and a bad relationship. To track his actual growth by seeing him reevaluate what he thought he knew with what he learns. To see him struggle not with melodramatic denial but with guilt for an emotionally vulnerable monster, and with horror when he discovers she is possibly much cleverer and even more dangerous than he even thought. 

Basically, what would be much more interesting, would be Jon underestimating her, rather than being in denial. Being in denial about Dany’s nature, or bargaining over it, makes Jon a boring, repetitive fool. Underestimating how far she will go, while being fully aware of her nature, that’s the stuff of horrifying surprises.

But in order for Jon to mature emotionally to such a degree, he will first have to experience a relationship that is not abusive but nourishing, and feel loved and accepted. Not even necessarily romantic, but simply close, positive, trusting. And in order to do it in an interesting, non-redundant way that shows us something we have not seen before, it almost HAS to be Sansa. Which brings us back to how very very very much Jon craves just such a thing. So much he was willing to downplay the vile horror that is murdering innocent people because the person who did it had “loved” him and he wasn’t ready to let go of that.

Arya, Bran, Benjen, Rickon, all the Starks already love him. It’s Sansa who’s a mystery box in terms of interaction. Basically, their relationship, in order to set Jon up on a trajectory to stay interesting, has to be a very positive one. It doesn’t have to be perfect, obviously, but overall very positive. Warm, funny, smart. Life-affirming. Embracing.

And unless Jaime-Cersei-Brienne is supposed to be the apex of romantic tension in the books (Love Arianne, but she is not “big” enough to carry the books on her amazing shoulders.) then Jonsa is basically inevitable. 

There is simply not enough emotional tension in a platonic Stark family v. Targ family feud. Certainly not between the Starklings. Why have two Stark sisters unless Jon’s relationship with them is going to be markedly different? Especially with the level of importance weddings and babies have carried up to now. It is literally inevitable that romance will be central. Even if GRRM means to end it tragically, which I don’t think he will, Jonsa will have to be a thing, a BIG THING in order to provide emotional growth for Jon, a contrast to his relationships with Ygritte and Dany, a pay-off for all of Sansa’s romantic disasters and - obviously - for RLJ. Because only Jonsa is unlocked by the reveal of that secret. Because Jon’s main arc is not the road to Targaryen kingship. It’s the road to home and family. There is only one thing in that direction that RLJ makes possible: marry a Stark. And there is nothing to be gained by Jonrya, their love was already perfect. And he probably can’t continue the Stark line by marrying Bran. Just saying. 

In order for Jon’s questionable, immature thoughts about Ygritte’s murdering actions to lead anywhere at all, he will have to overcome them. The most interesting way for him to do that would be by experiencing an actual, positive love story, where he doesn’t have to be in denial about his lover’s vicious nature, and experience actual acceptance and tenderness. You know, that exotic stuff where you’re not threatened with violence, called stupid, angrily yelled at for disagreeing, being shown zero interest in the things you care about… You know, the kind where you don’t have to commit or condone murder in order to be loved. Where someone might actually, I don't know, try and pull you away from the murderous brink. 

So, out of the darkness of those horrifying Jon thoughts about Ygritte, I kind of draw a lot of hope for Jon’s future. 

[middleinthenight21]

Ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? Part 3

This is sad for me, It's the end

Thanks to @ravenfan1242 Without your help I could not have done this. Thank you!

If you read stay safe

"Damian Wayne has a girlfriend and she's beautiful."

"It is a pity that Bruce Wayne's son already has a partner."

’’ I ship them so much.’’

’’ Tessa Collingwood and Damian Wayne are so beautiful. God, they look so in love’’

’’ I need someone to look at me like Tessa at Damian’’

Tessa Collingwood was a British actress, mostly known for starring in teen series. Her fame exploded when she participated in a Netflix series about the rampant life of wealthy teens, the series was questionable in many ways, but it powered the careers of its stars; Tessa Collingwood accumulated more than three million followers on her accounts, being a celebrity on Instagram looking beautiful in all her photos. The actress was gorgeous with long fire-red hair, a freckled face and big blue eyes, plus an innocent smile.

The photographs circulating on the internet were taken at an auction, the youngest of the Wayne family holding a glass of champagne out to the crowd, right next to an ice sculpture in the shape of an angel with flapping wings and Tessa Collingwood looked impressive In a red dress that highlighted her hair, she was hiding a smile behind her glass. The following showed a conversation with Dick and the one who was supposed to be the manager of the actress, but the young woman was inclined as if paying attention to something Damian said and smiled.

Conner was jealous and Jaime muttered something in Spanish about the fate of some.

He rolled his eyes.

"What is she like, man?"

He frowned, he was not willing to talk about anything related to the actress, since it could be misinterpreted, especially by his colleagues, who tended to exaggerate everything and if a few simple photos could ignite all that paranoia a few words would probably make them explode. He threw his bag on the living room sofa and ignored the questions choosing to sit down.

Jaime snorted "Give us something. You are being linked to an actress and model, and you are so indifferent" He showed the actress' social networks on his cell phone, as if that cleared his mind. "It's Tessa Collingwood! She won an award for best actress in a drama series. "

He said nothing.

Donna grimaced at the ceiling, she didn’t even know who they were referring to and was thankful that there was at least one reasonable person in the room.

Superboy didn’t stop talking to Garfield about the actress and her presence at the auction, as well as reading comments together and laughing out loud when they called Damian a gentleman, but he refused to continue this conversation.

His older brother sat next to him, crossing his legs with a smirk. He nudged him "Tell them. She kept smiling at you. "

"You too? I let them take a photograph for a single event and they already mad up a silly love story", he growled. His words were tinged with rejection at the idea of all those people getting into his life. Over time, he accepted that some types of relationships are necessary, but if he considered it, it would not be in the public eye. The point was "He had to wear the scarf. "

"And Bruce would have loved it."

Damian said nothing, just grimaced and looked away. The journey from Gotham to Jump City was more tiring than he’d like to admit, plus the auction for the sculpture by Allard, an artist known for his dark style, became famous for his sculptures of smiling demons, tormented angels, and trees with sloping logs; He had been fascinated by the man's work and the details, even though people murmured how horrifying it was.

The event was slow and boring, he knew it would be, but there were responsibilities that came with being a Wayne. Commitments.

"Dick, you have to tell us," Conner insisted. "Is it true that she offered him her phone number as anonymous sources say? "

The man laughed at just imagining it and Damian crossed his arms.

Jaime looked at him as if he had done something wrong.

Garfield kept reading comments aloud and zooming in on the photos.

Troy cocked her head, processing who the actress was and why they cared so much.

Conner bombarded Dick with questions, trying to get as much information out of him as possible. He couldn't believe he considered him a friend, he's an idiot.

"I prefer cancellation."

Each one looked at him. He ignored them by focusing on removing from the packaging of the small statues he bought at the auction, as well as a handwritten book by an anonymous ancient Arab poet., The piece was valued at less than a million dollars and how millionaires are of unknown origin. They had nothing to brag about, but Damian found a value for it, perhaps because he is also an Arab, perhaps because people are stupid, especially those with more superficial money.

His older brother gave him a sideways glance.

"What? " He asked defensively. He put everything heshe bought in his bag, taking care that it was kept in perfect order.

"You've been reading a lot lately."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

He raised his hands, as if stopping an invisible attack.

"No, I didn't mean that, Damian." He shook his head. He put a finger on his chin thoughtfully. "It is just that I have seen you with at least two books in the week. Three days ago, I saw you reading Lovecraft, then Whose Body? or whatever ... "

Garfield looked up from his phone and watched him.

"Who, darling?"

Kory stroked Dick's chest from behind, pressing her chin against the hero's shoulder. Damian pulled away, despising the show of affection from the apparent team leaders, and the entire team made excuses to go elsewhere.

"I have to go bathe with my tongue." Garfield disappeared down the hallways.

The couple laughed. It seemed that they lived in a sugary bubble when they are together, all the time they touch each other and smile every time their eyes connect, once the caresses begin, they do not stop and they are not shy at all ... Damian has bad memories of this.

He left.

He just wanted his bed. After finding his face on the internet and what's on the fingers of so many people who just want to get involved in the gossip of the moment, he wanted to train, use his time productively.

Preparation is a prerequisite for victory.

And he's always ready, but he just wants to sleep.

For some reason, he can't help but start reading this book. That baffles him.

When passing through the kitchen a person is sitting eating a cereal bar and holding a coffee with a pungent chocolate aroma. She keeps a book over her face, covers her expressions and is dressed completely in dark tones., She had on a sweatshirt that is triple her size and one shoulder is exposed, he could only see a vestige of some shorts , since they disappeared in the long sweatshirt and thick stockings.

Her foot moved to the rhythm of an imperceptible melody and her hair was tied back in a high ponytail, leaving strands at the nape of her neck.

She turned the page "If you stay longer there, I will consider you as a stalker, what do you want?"

"And they say I'm rude."

Raven looked up. Her eyes narrowed when she saw him standing at the door, he was not surprised that she did not look excited, since the girl rarely showed her emotions and he was grateful for that. After coming from an event surrounded by teenagers who sighed ion his face, daughters of mayors, granddaughters of businessmen, actresses, models and influencers who took pictures of him on his social networks without asking for his permission.

He had considered suing, but Dick found it unnecessary and his father kept speculating with Selina about the possibility that a black-market gang would steal the pieces. Bruce thinks they collaborate with the Penguin, but he doesn't count them until they arrive.

The best detective in the world.

She puts the book down, but reluctantly does it "Sorry. I thought it was Garfield or Conner. " He bit down on the cereal bar, keeping an eye on Damian. "So, what happened? "

He frowned.

Raven watched him.

She is empathetic, he reminded himself. Sometimes he overlooked that detail, this was one of her powers, that does not make it more tolerable, he did not like that people would look below his appearance; It felt like an invasion of his privacy, it doesn't feel right, but he can't get mad at Raven for knowing too much.

Supreme warriors like us never give the enemy a chance to defeat us, not when it comes to emotions or appealing to feelings. We must get rid of them to rule the world, Ra's Al Ghul was clear. You cannot guide them to a better world, being equal to them.

You will not be useful to me, just as you are.

He pushed Talia and Ra's voice away, as if shaking the dust off.

He sat across from Raven. He watched her silently taking small sips of her coffee, when he met her he believed that she was a person drinking bitter espresso, but she has an insane inclination towards sweets of all kinds; she went to that little sweet shop on Riva Street where they prepare artisan cotton candy and bought those colored candies that she keeps in her pockets, like an amulet.

Damian grimaced when she added a spoon of cream to her coffee and licked what remained on the kitchen utensil. Pennyworth would disapprove of her behavior; he can almost hear the scolding in his head.

"Nothing. "

For a few seconds he struggles to remember her question. If this happened to him in the mansion, his older brothers would mock his face, and he grimaced.

After a weekend at Wayne Mansion living with his brothers and Helena, he was fortunate to be back with the Titans - his thirteen-year-old version would hit him in the face - but his little sister is loud, shaking her fists in the air and she opens her mouth as much as she can, claiming attention only for her, the noise of his brothers adds to it, that combination almost drover him crazy.

He doesn't want to talk about the auction.

"Look." She pulled a package out of her pockets. He raises an eyebrow, because he doesn't think it's anything special. "Son ghraybeh" she tried to pronounce. Raven lowers her voice, like she does when she's admitting something, she doesn't want anyone to hear. "I bought them in an Arab store. "

Damian analyzes one of the cookies. In his childhood in Tibet he had seen these biscuits in the markets of the nearby towns, the masses had almonds, pistachios and all kinds of nuts, but he had never tried them.

He bit into it. The sweet has a bitter flavor charged by spices, it’s an explosion in his mouth and he’s almost transported to those stores, to women covered by hijabs and  it reminds him of the music his grandfather listened to during dinners, Of burnt incense, the blue hyacinth that grows as a weed and the Dragon Blood tree that rested in the garden that was extremely cared for, his grandfather had said that it is as old as he is and it’s sap is the color of blood.

Raven smiled, she bit into one of the cookies herself while drinking coffee.

He is not surprised that she had visited Arab stores, since in her spare time she visited bakeries, and that bookstore where the owner recommended novels and would have a reserved seat in the Costa restaurant while reading a book, as well as the ice cream parlor hidden among the luxury stores .

She tried foreign dishes, does not despise any genre of novels and is shocked by the arts. He supposed it was due to her time in hell, but deep down it's more than that; Raven is someone who leaves memories between those streets, measures people's energy and how they impact places. At first, he thought that her powers focused more on magic, such as enchantments, potions and spells, but she is more focused on emotions and feelings, she is different from Zatanna or Constantine.

"Is it true that the Belmont Allard sculptures were being auctioned?"

He set the cookie aside by making a mental note to finish it longer.

"I should have known that you were interested in his works."

Raven rolled her eyes, glancing at her book, her eyes scanning the page, and was drawn to whatever she now has on her reading list. She was quiet, reserved, and would rather sit in the back than walk in the front, but she should not be underestimated, and Damian had seen her vanquishing godlike humans and demons, yet she has a gentle aura. It is difficult to explain.

"Allard is famous. It has a history related to Satan, it is full of treasons, witches and enrichment overnight. "

She Mocked "Typical of pacts with the devil. "

Despite her mocking tone the truth slips.

Damian pulls out the book he bought, it's not flashy, it's dirty and worn. It smells of dust and dry ink, lined by a thick cloth of a dull red hue, it has damp spots and folded corners.

She says nothing but he sees the interest in her eyes.

"It is from an anonymous poet. It is of Arab origin; historians say that the book dates from 750. approximately, which corresponds to the times of an Iranian revolution" explained. "They assume that the author is a wealthy man because of the references to luxury and the elaboration of the work, but they are not sure. "

She stared at the book. He let her analyze it, but she frowned as she turned the pages and her mouth twisted into a grimace, like she was annoyed.

"What's wrong? "

"The book transmits strong feelings" her eyes shine, and she continues turning the pages. Damian raises an eyebrow, waiting for a clearer answer. "It brings me a feeling of longing; it is as if the author had misplaced something or someone" she closed the book. "It's amazing, I never felt this coming from an object" she leaves it.

He frowned.

It doesn't seem like a danger to him.

"Also, I can't read it."

He rolled his eyes.

Almost on impulse he opened any page of the book. The leaves are of a yellowish tone, with the corners eaten by humidity and the poet's pen is small and light, a scribble made of ink that in some places is smeared and he is surprised by the content of the letters.

"What does it say? "

He read in a loud voice. His voice was released, his mother tongue slides through his tongue and it is simple, after speaking English for so long it is even relaxing to speak Arabic, but she was puzzled and confused by his words, she was even happy that she does not understand what he is saying. Despite knowing the language, the words feel foreign.

                                                                                            عظامي المحطمه تتصلح

                                                                                      مع كل تلك الليالي التي قضاينها

                                                                                حبك سر آمل احلم اموت لحفاظ عليه

                                                                                                    التغير من اولوياتي

Despite everything, he prefers that she be the one who listened to him. Damian realizes she is comfortable; he feels domestic and that makes him reconsider what he just did.

The girl bows her head and frowns, she didn’t understand what he just said and struggles to try to associate the words, but the English and Arabic languages ​​are opposite. Raven rests her head on her hand.

"What does it mean? "

Damian Wayne does not make these kinds of mistakes, his grandfather would subject him to abysmal punishment and his mother would slap him in the face, even his father would growl, but the answer is said before he can avoid it.

The translation is simple for him, a custom that he acquired over the years.

"My broken bones are healing with all these nights we spend. Your love is a secret that I am waiting, dreaming, dying to keep" responds. "You change my priorities. "

He looks her in the eye. Her eyes are like the purple tanzanite, a precious stone that Ra´s Al Ghul kept around his finger in a ring, a symbol of his status and power against his enemies; in the end it did no good, even the most powerful person in the world and his kingdom had fallen. Ra´s Al Ghul was no different than Julius Caesar, Tarquin, Darius I, Napoleon or Hitler and what they built.

Now he understood that the stone on his grandfather was a sample, a shell to inspire fear; Tanzania is extremely rare and expensive, its color was a boost to make it so coveted, and it seems imprinted in Raven's eyes.

He is aware of the level of communication they have; words are not necessary. Damian would have turned away, walked away and ignored her presence, he did not like that anyone felt familiar with him., He is a warrior not a sentimental teenager, but after the last few months he had been alone, nobody talked to him apart from matters involving the missions, he couldn't help but measure his actions and keep an eye on anyone who was around, it could be a stalker, maybe a person who hates him, or someone interested in selling a photograph to a magazine.

Damian preferred solitude, he exiled himself while the media storm passed over his head. Long ago he would not have cared, the Titans many times represented being a nuisance, they were open to anyone who told a sad story without caring about their past, but the weight of the distance began to haunt him.

He understood the nature of his character, how difficult it is to establish relationships, and the approach is difficult to deal with. Damian was extremely professional at best, concerned with realistic aspects and devised plans based on data, measured his peers and analyzed each and every action, judged and issued verdicts, disliked being touched by anyone and growled with his words to anyone who treated him like a child to be protected.

What before seemed to him aspects that should be highlighted now are the reasons why he is so hated.

He realized that his skills are a mattress; He was not welcome in many places, many heroes had complained about him and insulted him to his face, but they recognized how good a fighter and excellent strategist he is, not for nothing he is the son of Batman and the heir to the League of Shadows, and that does not mean anything. People on the internet didn't care who he was, what he accomplished, or what his story was. They hate him for the pictures, videos, and comments, and he couldn't do anything. It's tiring sometimes, when people decide to subject you to rejection and there is nothing to do to correct that.

They besieged his castle, forced him to close the gates of the kingdom.

He may not need third-party approval when criminals were loose on the streets, but it doesn't make it more tolerable.

His father told him of the harassment he would receive when he was recognized as the son of Bruce Wayne, but his home was snatched away, burned from head to foot and he had to create a new belief system out of thin air, he wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere. Bruce was right.

His privacy was stolen, he found his face on the covers of youth magazines and invented relationships with strangers based on nothing, he committed innocent people to address him and he does not want to live like this. He hates other people getting into his life, he doesn't have to explain to anyone, or hide, but Damian does.

I despised help, as well as apologies and looks of pity from others.

Raven was silent, and did not push him away when it appeared, she doesn't not care about the cancellation or how the Internet saw the next heir to the Wayne fortune. It was silent, private and intimate.

It is not dependency, it is not attachment based on loneliness or trauma, he doesn't even know where to catalog it. Raven had a breakup recently, although he knew that she is now friendly, that had affected her and he was canceled, tried and sentenced to global rejection, while his civilian identity was compromised, it is not a good combination.

She gulps and looks away. His hands tremble around his book and he almost see her shudder.

Damian stirs uncomfortably and insecure, he wants ...

"Tessa Collingwood talked about you!"

The entire group entered. Kory had ordered food from a local restaurant, and the rest just argued around the news on Garfield's phone, as if this was a gathering of old ladies arguing about the life of a misbehaving neighbor.

Raven raises an eyebrow "The actress? "

Jaime nods.

"She mentioned Damian in one of her stories," Garfield replied. Donna laughed at something, and Conner grimaced rereading the screen. "She said:’’ Me and Damian are just friends.’’

Kory smiled.

"I doubt I was friends with someone I saw only once." He crosses his arms. Looked at the Titans. "In fact, I have known certain people for years and doubt that I would include them on my list. "

Jaime rolled his eyes.

 "Do you have a friendship list? Dude, that's absurd."

Conner nods looking at the green teenager, while Donna decided that the adult conversation is more interesting.

"Anyway, this beautiful actress mentioned you."

He hit the table with his book, attracting everyone's attention. "I don't care what it has to do with her." He turned around. "I will be in my room."

Someone called him, it was Raven ...

He stopped, standing at the door with his fists clenched.

He looked at her, while she held the book in her hands and smiled, just a little, as if she had heard an internal joke that only she knew. He had left the book.

So, everything was very clear and he's an idiot because he hadn’t seen it before.

*** 

Raven was lost.

Completely lost.

Alone and confused in her room, wandering from place to place like a caged lion. She wanted to demand answers, she felt like she was about to go crazy, and it is as if it is slowly killing her, she tries to fight, but she loses the fight as soon as it begins.

She compared this sensation with the previous ones; Raven had experienced love, the one that hurts your heart, the one you justify when you are hurt and you throw yourself into the void, with your blindfold you stumble over stones and ignore the blows, but this is different; born of intimacy, like a secret that grows until it is difficult to maintain.

She had to know.

Oh, Azarath.

She never learns from her mistakes.

Now she talks to everyone except him.

When surrounded by her peers it's easy to keep up, she just focuses on the cakes Kory brought, Donna's fighting techniques she hones in the training room, she even prefers her father's voice in her head to pay attention to her.

If she bleeds, if she hurts not to have it, she would never tell him.

Your love is a secret that I am waiting, dreaming, dying to keep.

Damn the poems of unknown Arab authors.

Raven wants to bury her feelings; burn his perfect face and the dimple rarely shows to others. Maybe he's aware of his own charm and she did something that bothered him, and he's only taking revenge on Raven in the worst way, Damian was vindictive and…

This is ridiculous.

I'm going to kill that boy, witch. You are a whore girl.

She makes a gesture to turn away her father's voice, but he doesn't shut up and she doesn't care.

She is so disoriented, she lives anchored to him like a bird in her blue sky and she has no way to kick him out of her life, she just doesn't want to. She is not selfish, she would never put her desires or her integrity over that of others, but she hates it because she could not have him in her life without compromising their friendship, the level of confidence they have and that feeling of home when they are going through difficult times.

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

Now it had taken on a new meaning. There are people who went through her life, were transitory, arrived at a specific moment and continued on, like nomads who left a lost object, and those who stay and fight by her side, accept her without expecting anything in return, they are important, they are family. However, there are others that transcend to the next level, they are like home, places shout their names and even everyday aspects seem valuable.

Raven does not want to despise this, but she is not going to ruin it by confessing her feelings, she felt like a schoolgirl who jumped when she saw the boy and hid in the corners.

Someone knocks on the door and opens it, she discovers Damian's serious face, frowning and holding two coffees. The first rays of the sun illuminate his face, as if blessing his soul and highlighting his tanned skin, and for a few seconds it seems that he knows.

"Good Morning. "

She steps aside, letting him pass. Her voice is monotonous, tired and she considers for a few seconds not to let him in, but it is too late.

Everything seems to be pulling towards him, as if he possessed a magnetic field and was a magnet. This morning he was not wearing his uniform, but a simple plain t-shirt in pastel blue and dark jeans and Nike sneakers, he squares his eyes like when preparing for battle or listening to something or someone who he does not like.

From here she perceives that he is having an internal struggle.

He leaves the coffee glasses on a small piece of furniture and stands in front of the window with his arms crossed behind his back.

"Is Something wrong? "

Hearing a bark and opening the door, Titus enters the room going upstairs to his house licking the pillows and spinning on the mattress. With Damian he was disciplined, obedient, surprisingly submissive, but when Raven is around, she allows him to be playful and mischievous, as if he had never become an adult animal.

Damian had scolded her for being permissive, but in her mind, he was never going to stop being that puppy she gave away inside that box. The animal had been scared, lost and away from his brothers, he trembled when a person approached, and she seemed to see her friend in the animal in a strange way.

Titus was shy and fearful when he arrived. Little by little he emerged from his cocoon to become a loyal and courageous Great Dane.

He didn't challenge him for messing up the bed like he normally would, so she started to worry. She didn't feel anything and that was frustrating, it was easy for Raven to understand people through her magic, although she didn't like what was underneath, but he only let her see what he allowed.

"What wrong? " She asked again.

"People have spoken again. "

Raven grimaced "Is it because of the actress? "

He turned his back on her and the young woman sat on the ground, partly so as not to disturb Titus, to have a better view, partly because she felt closer.

He was still flat, like a soft wave on a lake, and that is not all; it's just the outside.

"A little." He paused. "People hate Robin, people love what Damian Wayne stands for" His face is reflected in the window glass, he is impartial, and he keeps that scowl that characterizes him. "I do not care. My father says that the press is like vultures, but sometimes they are noisy. "

She cannot relate to that.

Raven enjoyed anonymity, she may be a consecrated heroine, and has a couple of victories on her record; people do not stop to talk about her private life, but are interested in the source of her power, her dark and quiet nature, they build and destroy theories, but nothing else.

She was a favorite on YouTube and blog channels focused on mysteries, conspiracy theories, and the paranormal.

She can't imagine what media persecution is, online harassment and what it means to have so many people eager to know about your life, that drove celebrities crazy all the time, some fell into addictions to flee their problems, those who survived cruelly understood the boundary between professional and personal, marked the line and took refuge in their homes, as if they lived in a fortress. Robin was a global trend in social networks, it required many people to achieve this.

Damian had stayed away, holding on to his training and lifting his chin as high as possible, but she knew him; with him not everything is said, it is not what is shown.

"Damian" she calls him because she knows his thoughts are strong right now. She reached for the coffee. She appreciated the warmth of the drink in her hands, it feels real. "It´s okay" she smiled.

He looks at her.

She had never seen that shade of green before. He may not realize his own charm; his face reflected the golden rays, and his dark hair shone in a lighter shade.

Titus now sleeps in bed and his snoring is deep.

He sits next to her in the lotus position and they watch the sunrise together. They do not say anything, they do not speak much, both are people who were touched by tragedy, who face battles while forging their way to adulthood and are not used to expressing their feelings, interpreting silences and supporting each other from a distance with small gestures.

She wants to have better words, be more forthcoming, and offer advice, so they could talk more about his breakdowns. Raven would cleanse his heart if that helps his heartbeat, a word and it would be his.

Damian takes her hand.

His fingers are barely touching, his skin is hard, and that scar that ran like a thick rope over his knuckles is soft to the touch; his fingers are long and shiver, as if cold, but he remains in place; she compares it to a burn and is surprised.

Raven wants to hold onto him, because he doesn't deserve all the hatred, they chase him with torches and spears. She wants to tell him that she regrets him for his past, for all the manipulation, because there was no one to show him love and treat him like a child, who sees him as a person during his childhood and she wants to smooth his wrinkles that were beyond the ones visible. She wants to show the affection that was denied him all his life and tell him that she does not care what they call him on the internet- Either as Robin or Damian Wayne- Deep down, he is only a kind and generous soul, and she is fortunate to see it, even if he is insufferable.

She squeezed his hand. Words are not necessary.

He keeps his gaze on the dawn. His eyebrows tremble and he showed his emotions for the first time, it is like the caress of the wind of a summer night.

Silence.

They are like little children who take too much importance on their clasped hands. There is no lust, nor the typical approach to achieve something, they are two people who are used to being alone, pushing everyone away, seeing the worst in people and being disappointed, betrayed and disheartened, clinging to the other; it is so simple and complex.

He leans his head against hers and leaves it.

At first, she is surprised, but she thinks he is like a scared animal that would walk away in the face of any foreign sound or reaction. It is beautiful, vulnerable and serene, like a new dawn.

Aware of his exhaustion and frustration, this simple action reflects the fatigue of all these months of witch hunting, keeping quiet and holding on his own, she can feel him letting go of his burdens and that mask of indifference is shattered.

Her hair is soft, and his shoulder bumps into hers; He is taller, and his muscles are worked by constant exercise and his breath tastes like coffee.

The scent of shaving lotion reaches her nose, she was aware of that smell and it was masculine, it had a woody touch and she was relaxing.

Can they stay like this forever? In the silence and secrecy of her room with their hands clasped and leaning on the other drinking coffee from plastic cups ...

... And suddenly, this is enough.

*** 

Raven bought a dress.

That night is hot, and they visit an open bar on the seashore. The music is relaxed, the musicians play bass drums and ukuleles, giving the place a tropical atmosphere; decorated by lights and all the tables and chairs are made of wood, with small floral decorations as centers.

The sound of ocean waves and salty-smelling air was sleepy, almost as if slowly inducing her to sleep.

Kory forced them into a night of mandatory fun, booked a table in a corner under a palm tree, would give them a little privacy, and they wouldn't get as much attention. She sensed that in the place photographs were not allowed was a factor for her to choose it.

The tradition of compulsory fun was installed with the arrival of Damian, she was left justifying small getaways or celebrations of birthdays, anniversaries, certain days of the year.

Raven thanked the team leader- who she considers to be an older sister- since the bar is not very crowded nor does it allow crowds with all those people sweating under the influence of alcohol, but the place is familiar, spacious and quiet. Her powers would not overwhelm her.

"Honey, will you bring us our drinks?"

Dick nods walking towards the bar. The man was wearing a simple T-shirt and shorts, on the other hand, his fiancée looked glamorous in the purple dress with large openings revealing her shapely legs and a plunging neckline.

Garfield, Conner, and Jaime share a conversation with Donna about the dance, but the young woman only frowns when she looks at the musicians.

"It's Latin music. "

Jaime snorts "Don't look at me, dude. Just because I'm Latino does not mean I know how to dance. "

"I'm not the best dancer anymore." Garfield looks with a grudge at Damian, who grimaces looking away.

"I just beat you."

"You break codes and all that, surely you did it with the dance machine. "

Raven snorts, but she's amused.

"That was a long time ago." He looked at everyone. "Can we get over it? "

When Dick arrived he announced that he asked for drinks for each one, but they had a limit of two, because some recently stopped being minors, also in the tower they had rules and arriving drunk is on the prohibited list; for those who are minors there are unlimited juices.

The night is progressing normally, although she sees certain people who are surprised by her colorful group, nobody really cares. They are just a group of friends enjoying an evening by the ocean.

Damian rolls his eyes when Dick starts Kory dancing with a slow song.

"They've been dating for years."

Raven raises her eyebrows, not at all surprised. She already knew.

"I mean long before they became teammates." He gives his whisky a small sip. "When he was a boy, he kept having suggestive calls with her." He shrugs.

"No way! " Conner leans in and opens his mouth.

Jaime contains a laugh.

"Are you seriously surprised?" She didn’t need to be empathetic to know that.

They look at her, but it's Garfield who speaks first.

"Did you know?! " He shakes his head. "Of course, you knew, why didn't you tell me?! "

"I did not mean that. "

"Traci arrived!" Jaime gets up from the table and disappears.

After two years together he is still excited to see her enter the room, Raven got along with the girl, she is pleasant and has a pink aura, used to loving and showing it, she also has Jaime around her fingers.

Raven drinks her gin and tonic, the drink is incredibly sweet and fruity. Her friends raised an eyebrow at seeing her bite into the lemon wedge that decorates the drink, but it's not that she cares, it's probably because she's going for her second fruit drink and sweet alcoholic drinks are misleading.

A boy appears pushed by his group of friends, who laugh giving him sidelong glances and extends one of his hands to dance, he is tall, and his face is youthful, perhaps just after finishing high school. His emotions are strong too, but the one that predominates is lust, she has a moment when images of herself come of kissing him in the dark.

He has too much imagination.

"Would you like to dance? "

She shakes his head, absorbing the lemon juice to the last drop. The scene almost seems funny to her, this boy asking her to dance in front of her friends, among them her ex-partner is present, along with the young man who answered the name of her best friend, who also has feelings. It is funny.

A smile glides across her lips.

The boy stirs uncomfortably without knowing how to interpret her smile, but she continues to shake her head, so he leaves.

"You have low tolerance, Roth."

Raven grimaces "It will pass soon. Alcohol will be in my system for exactly forty minutes and then I'll be like new. "

She calls a waiter asking for a Cuban mojito with that sugar-covered rim she likes so much.

When the drink is put in front of her, it is just as promised and she almost sighs when she sees it. Damian drops his drink, gives her a disapproving look with those green eyes, and she could cry right now because she thinks it's cruel and insane to be around him.

Conner invites his friends to dance wanting to flee from the discomfort. The others continue to join the small group that formed in the middle of the dance floor, Kory and Dick get all eyes, they move well.

Raven sips the drink through the straw. The little umbrella is a hindrance, so she pushes it aside noticing how her fingers tremble, the sugar and the drink mix is ​​not a good match.

Damian approaches, but she moves away.

She should think twice before entering his space.

Raven looks him in the eye. Noting that his expression reflects concern, just as he was ready to scold her, she knows that scowl and he has that plain short-sleeved shirt with the designer's name she can't pronounce and some worn jeans; For someone with so much money, he have not invested too much in his clothing.

His eyes are green as a drink, and he raises an eyebrow. His features are a mix between the Middle East and the West, his Arabic accent is light, as if he had always spoken English and he moves his fingers on the wooden table; remember that morning when their hands touched.

She wants to cry.

"It's not fair."

It's not fair that he so perfect, while she was melting away for keeping her secret just to keep him within her life. It's not fair!

She doesn't want him as her best friend.

He is a magnetic force in the form of a man.

She is attracted to him. It is not a fairy tale, it is not idolatry, just esteem it, the past seems to have been erased by a rubber when they were together, and she is dying to have him.

Random, she's so angry.

Damian grimaces "are you okay? "

"I'm fine. "

That’s a lie.

 "Let's go," he says, taking her by the forearm before she finished her drink and takes her to the parking lot without asking. He opens the door of his car, sitting her in the back seat. "Try to get comfortable" He sits down on the pilot's seat and starts the car.

She really wanted to stay.

She rests her head against the headboard and looks out. The highway is fast and distinguishes trees and pieces of the ocean illuminated by a moon.

The lights are off, and there is no music.

She lies down in the back seat.

It smells of leather and that forest fragrance, just like his lotion.

Suddenly the tears slide down her eyes, they are thin. She is angry with herself for being weak, with him and for the life that kept hitting her, a few weeks ago she had been convinced that she is much better alone, lives well and recovers from a breakup, she is not missing anything, then he entered little by little to her life and she wants to push him away, now she just wants him to stay a little longer. A little bit closer.

Raven wants to see what's underneath that bad boy attitude.

He sees her in the rearview mirror "what's wrong with you? "

"Nothing," she says in a broken voice.

Damian raises an eyebrow. Maybe he doesn't care, maybe he's worried she will throw up in his expensive car or she pretends that she cares just so he doesn't make her feel bad.

What doesn't kill her makes her want him more.

He tilts his head she and sees that sharp scar in the corner of his chin catch the silver glow of the moon. This is horrible.

"It's not important what you're upset about."

What?

Damian, the worst adviser in the world.

Yes it is important because it would destroy everything, they would end the reading of books on the roof, visits to Riva street where they would chat in the book store, the shared cafes in their room when they feel too lazy to go up or the weather is not favorable for them and the way he smiles marking that dimple on his cheek, how he held her hand and leaned his head against her. She thinks that if she lost him, she wouldn't do those things again.

Her heart breaks.

She would never walk down Riva Street again.

It is her fault.

It is his fault.

She imagines reading Robert Frost alone knowing he didn't love her, she would visit Riva Street trying to meet again, she would finish the cafes on the floor of her room because she is dumb enough to confess. Damian wouldn't worry about love affairs, he has a purpose and it would be a distraction, a stone in his shoe, he had better judgment, therefore he would walk away first.

He would not give her second glances; in fact, he would despise her for ruining their friendship.

It terrifies her too much.

She cries like a baby in the back of the car.

When they park in front of the tower of the Titans, she does not think twice and opens the door running into the forest that surrounds the home of the young heroes, entering it as if he were chasing her. She can hear the car's engine go off, as well as his desperate call, then the footsteps.

Raven takes off her shoes.

Thanks for the lightness of her dress. She thinks about going through the back door of the tower and locking herself in her room, tomorrow she could say that she was drunk and was not thinking clearly, but now she needs to be alone.

Maybe she deserves it.

She is running barefoot through the woods with her dress catching leaves and branches, just as her hair is now a wind-tossed mess. The moon is a fuzzy point between the treetops and the warm weather does not help.

She runs a hand down her face, ridding herself of the tears that were running down her cheeks.

"Raven!"

She is not a runner, so she is caught by arms before she could open a portal to her room, another country or dimension, she really doesn't know for sure. There are three uncertain options.

Damian pushes her away, looking her in the eye.

"What's wrong? You ran away, the car was moving, Raven."

His hands go up and down her shoulders to her arms, giving her warmth. Then she realizes that she is trembling, like a scared puppy and she is a total disaster.

She wanted to escape to close her fate, because she deserves to be alone and having him close is her own personal torture.

Damian had come to her in moments of vulnerability, when no one was looking, he trusted her more than anyone, he was harassed and hated by people. Damian Wayne was easily associated with actresses, models and celebrities, they took his privacy without his consent, everyone hated or loved a version of him.

He showed her his true self and she paid him by falling in love with him.

He had driven her crazy, begging him to knock on her door or end it all.

It would destroy years of friendship and companionship.

Raven got out of a relationship, that's not how it was supposed to go, she hadn't looked for it.

He looks her in the eye, as if waiting for her to tell him the devastating ending of a novel. He is so close that his mint breath almost makes the tide, his hands are warm as the desert and she has to look away so as not to be consumed.

Her heart beats painfully in her chest.

She ruined her life for not being his.

She wants so much and that is hurting her.

"Tell me."

She digs her feet into the ground, her toes touch the ground and the dry leaves. This is real.

Suddenly, she is angry with everyone and everything.

Tell him! A voice rolled her, almost crying. You're going to ruin everything, says another with resignation.

However, something inside her asks for more, she wants to have him closer and her hands tremble wanting to interlock their fingers; it is as if a spirit had possessed her body and made her ambitious and selfish.

She feels her heart breaking.

Wanting it is bad. Damian doesn't deserve this, but ...

Now or never.

She shouts: "I love you! Ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

Time is frozen, like dead. Everything stops.

Damian is silent.

She swallows and clenches her jaw.

She wants to cry.

She has ruined everything.

But he looks up and smiles like a devil.

***

The lights are off when they reach her room, Titus is playing with her sheets and there is disorder.

She stands still, not knowing what to do.

The moonlight is bluish, almost blinding them and everything is silent. The door to her room is open, the kitchen light is dim and she listens to a tune in the distance, she thinks it's the radio that Kory always leaves on.

The tension could be cut by a knife, but it is different.

Raven has passed the effect of alcohol and knows that she has done something that is irreparable, but she couldn't care less, because he smiled and held her hand gently; Damian dropped the costumes a bit, sheltering his feelings and emotions as heshe had been taught all his life, just for her. Nobody else.

He is standing at the door.

He looks her in the eye and there is an unspoken agreement between the two.

Close the door.

Raven is an awkward mess, it will take days for her emotions to normalize, but this time she allows her stomach to spin, her hands to stay inert at the sides of her torso without knowing which position to adapt, and her brain short-circuiting.

All roads had led her to this moment.

Feeling their fear and how confused they are, none are used to showing affection unless someone loves them, but they try. She stands firm.

Damian says nothing when he approaches, he takes her hand gently interlacing his fingers, it is like fire and ice, two forces that collide. It is something so every day, but with him it is as if he left a mark that she cannot erase.

He presses their foreheads and she sigh.

She had been a hawthorn tree for a long time, but now she may be a rose.

He caresses her face, the pads of his fingers running down her forehead, her cheeks up to her neck. It is pure, there is longing and affection, he will not tell her that he loves her too, but the gentleness and innocence of the act is enough to let her breathe out, because they do not need to speak, nor do they require speeches. Love can be declared to anyone, castles are built on the sand with ease only from confessions based on nothing, but demonstrating it is something else.

Raven kisses him on the cheek, presses her lips against the skin, and the fingers he keeps on her neck tremble. His breathing is ragged, as if he was agitated; they were both so lonely, apprehensive, and fearful that this bubble was an illusion.

They cannot make promises now because this is running a thread.

Darkness surrounds them, like a blanket on this summer night. There is no one in the tower, everyone stayed at the bar and they only heard Titus's playful grunts.

Her hands go up his chest and go to the nape. They take it easy, adapting to being this close, and trying not to get the blow too strong to leave them in shock.

She presses her forehead against his cheek.

Her father's voice is strong and threatening, but she contains a smile because it is so ridiculous and funny.

"What does he say? " He whispers.

She looked him in the eyes "My father wants to kill you. "

Damian frowns "And me to him. "

Raven laughs, a loud, clear laugh; she shares his feelings about her father.

"I will have a good relationship with your father," he says sarcastically. His voice is light and attracts her, like bees to honey. "It would be a shame if you spend time with me. "

"It would be," she whispers.

He brushes back a lock of her hair, pressing both hands to her cheeks. He kisses her cheek lightly with the touch of a butterfly and sighs, almost instinctively closes his eyes and kisses her on the corner of her lips, they are like school children experiencing romance.

When they finally kiss, it is soft and delicate.

She has to lean on him not to slip, and her heart trembles with joy, because she has what she wanted for so long. She doesn't know when they crossed the line, when she started having feelings for him, it felt like a thousand years ago.

She in a safe place, she feels like she been waiting a long time to find something like that. This is the kind of love that time does not heal, that makes you sigh and beg for more.

She would ask him to please stay.

In the past she believed that love is painful, that it steals things from you and runs away, like a criminal, but it is more than that.

Kissing in the dark, limbs trembling and hearts pounding, praying this doesn't end. They are a blank page on a desk, which is filled as they go.

Raven strokes his hair, and feels his breath catch.

They stay there and Titus jumps around her, barking and expressing enthusiasm; he is the only thing in the room that is moving.

He kisses her again. This time it is safe, the kiss is slow, and he seems to want to savor this moment and her legs tremble.

His breath is slightly bitter, like whisky, and her lips are ice cold in the drink. It is an interesting contrast to his warm skin to the touch and she realizes how much she wanted to feel each of his scars, she wanted to perceive what his skin is like and the lights change the color of his green eyes, she wants to know what is under his clothes, count his freckles, moles, wounds and scars.

One of the straps of her dress falls from her shoulder.

Her body is new to him, and she is more than willing to get used to it.

Let him have everything; her heart, her body and soul.

*** 

Damian and Raven talk and agree to have their relationship private.

In front of the titans they are companions, they get along well, but it is not that they revolve around each other, in fact, they hardly speak if it is not for the missions. They try to separate the professional from the personal, they would have nothing in front of the others, but they look in private corners. No one knows what is between them.

They do well.

Damian has already been exposed to the media, they had gotten into his life and he was hated by everyone for his attitudes like Robin, but when they are together that does not matter. All the drama queens and the noisy ones muffle their voices and the statements of celebrities approaching him lose their meaning.

He doesn't care what is said in the tabloids.

He thinks the Titans are suspicious, but not that there was enough evidence, and none are willing to answer the questions or pay attention to suspicious glances. Nobody asks Damian, but his brothers are an exception, after all, they didn't learn from the best detective in the world for nothing and sometimes he thinks it's a curse to surround himself with his family.

He thinks Alfred and his father know but ignores them.

They are not a sentimental couple, nor do they go out too much, only on missions or compulsory fun dates, to walk in the park with Titus, although they rarely go together, since they fear finding the photos on the internet; they prefer to be in the room, have breakfast on the roof of the tower, lie next to each other without speaking, they could read together or hold hands and Damian prefers to enjoy her company when no one is around, She is surprised when she feels light waking up by his side in the morning or by entering her room after a mission.

Damian walks to her room with Titus following in his footsteps.

He goes through the room where the group watches a movie, Raven is not there, so she assumes that she must be in her room probably because they are watching a horror movie and it is not that the girl is a fan of horror movies that include Blood and uncensored deaths, the group barely notices as they are thrilled by the butter knife murder scene.

He opens the door and is surprised.

She is reading in his bed, wearing a shirt that she stole from his closet and never returned, and shorts made from gray fabric. Now she wears a plain Dolce and Gabanna shirt for sleep, as if the designer's brand was nothing.

Her short hair is strewn across the pillow and she is focused on the letters in that book.

Titus jumps onto the bed, licking the girl's face, she suppresses a smile, and looks up to see him lock the door securely.

She pet the dog "Hi. "

He quietly walks over to his computer, pulling a document Drake had sent him out of the recycle bin that contained a report with a couple of errors. His father instructed him to correct the mistakes since his brother had overdosed on coffee or something.

she is probably feeling his apprehension.

From his bag where she carries his pet's leash, water bottles, the muzzle and a part of towels, she extracts a cotton candy wrapped in a plastic bag, it looks like a pink cloud.

When he saw the vendor in the park, he remembered how she had that insane obsession with sweets and his mind began to associate her with caramel, soft and extremely sugary flavors. Sometimes he doesn't understand how she can tolerate eating a whole cotton candy.

She smiles at him and takes it in her hands. He sits on the bed, and she spreads her feet using his lap to support them; Damian looks down as if asking why he did that, but he just lets it go.

Raven eats the cotton candy, while smiling as she tries to push the dog away. Finally, the animal licks her fingers absorbing the sweetness, and she laughs.

He tries to focus on correcting the report, but her laugh distracts him.

"I'm trying to finish," he declares, but his gaze is no longer focused on the screen.

She puts a piece of cotton candy in her mouth and smiles. She doesn't answer him, but she looks sorry for interrupting him, heshe knows it's not her fault, but she didn't impose rules on Titus and around Raven he behaves like a spoiled brat. 

"Sorry, it's just ..." The dog jumps on top of her and licks her fingers. Damian decides that enough is enough and with just a sign Titus settles near his feet. The girl grimaces picks up the book and opens a page. "Is that the report they called you so much for? "

He nodded. 

Gotham City.

The Penguin robbed the city bank, between the streets ...

Raven shakes her hand and opens her palm. Now heshe is sitting next to her, she bumps her shoulders against his, she is small and their palms touch, she thinks she wants to interlace her fingers, but she puts a piece of cotton candy in his hand.

"Eat a little."

He is transported to the first night of mandatory fun when he hated being with the Titans, he did not belong because he knew everything there was to know, he was the most intelligent, disciplined and the most brutal fighter in the world, but nothing else and that is precisely what he lacked. He did not have any social skills, it was never clearer than in that amusement park, he had thought that his mistakes were great, he did not deserve that any of these people accepted him.

Raven had gotten closer; he didn't even know why. She offered him cotton candy ...

Just like now.

Shit. His father would kill him.

He closed the computer and set it aside. Damian eats the cotton candy, he still doesn't like it, it melts in his mouth and it is pure sugar, it is gooey, and his throat warms up, as if he had ingested a liquid at high temperatures.

He draws her in and sits her on his legs.

Raven is slim and diminutive, not muscular like Kory or Donna, but possesses the body of a runner, although both know she is not exceptional in sports, she prefers her magic. He surrounds her waist, and she rests her head against his cheek, as she likes to do when they hug.

She keeps her gaze on her book and turns the pages.

Read:

With his back to the sun, another day ends in this abandoned town.

You have a wish list:

-Know the city.

-Build an aviary for those little birds that roam your yard looking for food.

-Risking for someone and that it turns out well.

…

Damian laughs wryly.

"What? " She asked, looking him in the eye.

Raven pulls back a little but adjusts the position so that both legs rest to one side.

"You were drunk when you confessed. You took a chance. "

She buries her head in his shoulder "Don't remind me. "

She is embarrassed. He Finds this charming.

"It went right."

Raven stiffens, and looks him in the eye, but Damian is smiling because he can't help it and he likes to see how certain answers surprise her. She puts those eyes that he only sees when he smiles at her, it's like she's melting inside, struggling to hold back a sigh; He has seen her do it before they started dating because Damian Wayne is not a fool, he is still the son and heir of the best detective in the world, and he was taught from a young age to measure personal body language; It is adorable.

Maybe he still slips.

He strokes her hair, tucking one of her locks behind her right ear.

They looked into each other's eyes.

 "Yes." She kisses him, sighs against his mouth, and Damian interlocks his fingers giving her a soft squeeze. "I did something right. "

His grandfather and mother would be scolding him, an Al Ghul did not hold his partner as a delicate thing and allowed himself to be kissed without a purpose, even his father who had lost the ground to the Gotham cat would give him a disapproving look, it is dangerous to establish a personal connection with your teammates, but none knew and to be honest, they were not interested.

In fact, no one knows for sure.

The diamond sparkles on her forehead.

"My father still wants to kill you."

Of course, yes.

She changes position now sitting face to face, strokes his chest until she stops at his heart and stays there. He really doesn't understand how he came to this, he didn’t expect to find love, nor in a million years would he think about being in this position, but he won't run from this. All the voices from his past scream in his head, but Damian stays.

It is so unexpected.

Damian hates when something doesn't go according to plan, because he usually has it all coldly calculated, if it doesn't work then he would have a backup. As the future leader of an organization, his life was designed, as Robin, he has to be prepared for everything and being a Titan, he took on the hard work, the aspects that others would not take care of, everything was perfected. This is out of his hands.

"I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this"

Raven smiles and they kiss.

All the murders, all his past, all the pain and confusion, the hatred and the persecutions are nothing compared to her.

End.

[ruffiorocks]

Dany, Drogo and forced marriage in Game of Thrones, a historical perspective.

(Disclaimer, I obviously don't think rape and abuse are in any way OK).

I've been re-reading the first book because it's been a long time since I did and we're in lockdown so I have plenty of time on my hands.

I've finished the chapter of Dany and Drogo's wedding night and surprised when I saw that at the end of that chapter Dany actually gives consent to Drogo, unlike the how the show presents it. I'd completely forgotten about that.

Drogo sits and takes the bells from his hair and Dany joins in to help him. He then undresess with help and she is then undressed. Like the show he keeps saying "no" but unlike the show Dany actually takes comfort in the fact he knows at least one word she does. Drogo touches her a lot, works her up and then he says one last time "no?" But the last one is a question. Dany replies with "Yes" and then takes his finger and you can guess what happens next. It's a very different portrayal to how the show presents it.

Now, I remember later in the book that Drogo comes in every night, has sex with her roughly and then leaves. Very like the show and that's where Dany learns to please him from her slave and he's surprised in both book and show.

Now I know what people will say, "She was 13! It was rape!" And yes, from a 20th century point of view that is what it very much is. BUT this story does not take place on 2020.

G.R.R Martin based his books on the Wars of the Roses, so for us it takes place between the 14th and 15th century. If you study history you would know that being married off against your will was something that was done for both boys and girls. It was an arrangement usually made when they were children and people got on with it.

Dany's age of 13 wasn't considered underage for the time those books are based around. I'm fact some were married at the age of 5 or 6. The most prominent 13 year old who was married off during the WOTR was Margaret Beaufort, the mother of Henry VII and grandmother of Henry VIII. Margaret was a wealthy heiress and was married off to a 30 something year old man. Actually perfectly normal and acceptable for the time. Consummation of the marriage however was another matter, where it wasn't actually illegal to consummate at age 13 it wasn't considered a good idea because the girl hadn't finished developing and complications could occur should she get pregnant. When Margaret Beaufort was left pregnant at 13 after her husband was killed people thought that it was to early for her, but again not actually illegal in anyway. Unfortunately for Margaret she would only ever have the one child, she was probably damaged to much after getting pregnant so early. Later on she made sure her grandchildren were older before being married off and consumating their marriages.

So, for Dany to be married at 13 and be having sex isn't actually all that off for world that Martin has created, even though to us it seems very off.

It was also not considered rape when a man had sex with his wife whenever he chose. Women were taught to simply put up with it. I'm medieval society it was actually considered a sin to enjoy sex, especially for women. High born men would have sex with their wives for pro creation not enjoyment, that was what mistresses were for. (Just to clarify these aren't my views, simply the views of medieval society).

In the show and book we see Drogo take Dany from behind and she isn't enjoying it, to the point she wants to kill herself, this is heartbreaking, but that's because we as the audience and reader are thinking of it in a 20th century point of view but also Dany's point of view. The Dothraki are not like the people of Westeros. Even at the wedding it is explained by master Illyrio that the Dothraki mount their women like a stallion mounts a mare. It happens at the wedding, both in the show and in the books. It's not even referred to as sex, it's referred to as mating. Later on in the show when Dany is suggesting the Dothraki take the women as wives rather than rape them she is laughed at and the blood riders say "does the horse lie with the sheep?" They are referring to themselves and others as animals. Drogo is a product of Drogo's culture, the men take the women like a horse takes a mare. It's horrible to use of course! But what one has to understand is that this is the culture of the Dothraki, the culture that Martin created and a culture that Dany absolutely does not belong in.

I saw someone mention that Dany's age means nothing to Ned and Robert when they discuss her, but of course it doesn't, because in their society being married off at that age and getting pregnant isn't a shock to them. She's referred to as a 'child' but that's because she is a 13 year old teenager who to Ned poses not threat to them.

Now, remember that throughout the first book Jon and Robb are 14 and refer to themselves as almost "a man grown" as in they are almost of age. In the 14th and 15th century 14 was the legal age of marriage for a boy (unless they were married was children or by proxy). Even Bran at 7 calls himself almost a man grown. It was only at the beginning of the 16th century that the age of maturity went up to about 18. So for e.g. in 1483 Edward V (one of the Prince's in the Tower) was 12 when he became king, but was considered underage, but had he been allowed to reach 14 as king he could have begun to rule. By the 1509 when Henry VIII became king he was just a few month off his 18th birthday and his grandmother was regent for about a month until he turned 18. His younger brother Prince Arthur was married off at 15 to his 16 year old wife Catherine of Aragon (who would later marry Henry). Later Henry in his 40s would marry a 15 year old girl. Again, for the time none of this was illegal or even really frowned upon.

So in conclusion, yes we see what Drogo did to Dany as rape, and we should because in today's society it absolutely is! But, George R. R. Martin did not set his story in today's society, it set in a medieval society and to understand the depth of what's going on we need to a point look at it through medieval eyes and not 20th century ones.

It's not unlike watching a show set in ancient Rome and seeing slaves, they were a part of society and to understand the show and the time it's presenting you have to look at it from that point of view.

Just some food for thought, of course it's rape, Dany, Sansa, Jeyne Poole, even Cersei with Jaime. In some society women would get their revenge on the men who treated them badly, history is littered with them biding their time. But unfortunately, for the time the show is based on it wasn't actually a crime to be forced to have sex with your husband.

Forced marriage was am everyday occurrence, marriage wasn't for love at least not on high society. Marriage was for alliances, wealth, position, the continuation of a blood line. Even in the show this happens, Ned marries Catelyn because his brother dies. Robert marries Cersei for alliances with the richest house, Sansa is promised to Joffrey, Margery is married off to Renly, Joffrey and Tommen! Robb has to swear to marry a Frey girl, any one he chooses, she doesn't get a say, but he gets himself killed for love. Tywin tells Cersei she has to marry Loras and she has no say. Tyrion has no say in marrying Sansa.

Robert wasn't great to Cersei, he even hit her on occasion, but for the time this wasn't considered a crime. Walder Frey was lecherous pervert but again frowned upon in the show but not a crime. Joffrey had he married Sansa probably would had been horrific to her, again not a crime but people would have been disgusted.

The major issue I think is with the show, it has all of these things in it but it presents the view points of other characters from a 20th century point of view. The "good guys" like the Starks would be horrified to learn that the girls had been married off without their consent , but at the same time Robb gets to choose whichever Frey girl he wants like he's picking out a jumper. Even Edmure will later get to pick a Frey girl. Tyrion arranges a marriage for Myrcella but is horrified to learn he's had one arranged for him. Catleyn even agrees to marry off Arya to a Frey boy, she isn't even there and has no say and she's fully aware she will hate it!

So I looked at this from a historians point of view to understand the story not a woman living in 2020, so don't attack me. ✌

[secretlyatargaryen]

Tyrion and Dany, Monsters

“Monster” is a word that has been used to justify the abuse and dehumanization Tyrion has been subjected to from the moment he was born.

“When I commented that you seemed a poor sort of monster, your sister said, 'He killed my mother,' and twisted your little cock so hard I thought she was like to pull it off. You shrieked, but it was only when your brother Jaime said, 'Leave him be, you're hurting him,' that Cersei let go of you. 'It doesn't matter,' she told us. 'Everyone says he's like to die soon. He shouldn't even have lived this long.'”

It’s a word that appears often in Tyrion’s thoughts because of his awareness of how it is used against him.

. . me, the dwarf, the monster, the one they scorned and laughed at...  

"Yes, and I am a monster besides, hideous and misshapen, never forget that."

And when Tyrion reclaims that word in the books and turns it back around on someone who really is a monster, he’s using it to protect Sansa.

"No." Tyrion's voice was hoarse. "Sansa is no longer yours to torment. Understand that, monster."

Joffrey sneered. "You're the monster, Uncle."

Which of course is used against him, because he’s never been allowed to forget that label that has been used against him just for the crime of being born, and used to justify sexually abusing him as an infant. And in the scene with Joffrey, it’s a reminder that not only can he not protect himself, but that he can’t protect Sansa, either. His disability makes him weak not only in the eyes of people who would hurt him, but it means he can’t save anyone from the real monsters. This dehumanizes Tyrion as a man because he can’t perform what he sees as his duty as Sansa’s husband, and also diminishes him as someone who can never be a hero himself, but can only be an object to be acted on. And later, it’s used to twist the narrative and portray him as a villain.

"Ser Ilyn never dared provoke Aerys the way your Imp provokes Joff," said Cersei. "You heard him. 'Monster,' he said. To the King's Grace. And he threatened him . . ."

This word also factors in Tyrion’s mental break when he is falsely accused of Joffrey’s murder and begins to collapse underneath the belief that he really is a monster.

“You make me sorry that I am not the monster you would have me be, yet there it is. I am innocent, but I will get no justice here.”

It’s hard to identify who the real monsters are when you’ve been told your whole life that you are a monster. Tyrion goes from insisting upon his innocence, to attempting to protect others, to wishing he were what people thought he was. But what hurts most is Jaime, the brother that he loves, seeing him that way.

“And I am the monster they all say I am. Yes, I killed your vile son." He made himself grin. It must have been a hideous sight to see, there in the torchlit gloom.

Jaime turned without a word and walked away.

By ADWD, Tyrion, haunted by trauma and consumed by self-loathing, begins to refer to himself as a monster, seemingly believing the things people have said to justify dehumanizing him.

“No matter, Griff. You are no knight and I am Hugor Hill, a little monster. Your little monster, if you like. You have my word, all that I desire is to be leal servant of your dragon queen."

And this is where Tyrion’s story starts to meld with Dany’s, who also is surrounded by the word “monster.” The Dragon Queen. Queen of Monsters.

The girl never started for the west. No doubt she had good reasons. Between Meereen and Volantis lay five hundred leagues of deserts, mountains, swamps, and ruins, plus Mantarys with its sinister repute. A city of monsters, they say, but if she marches overland, where else is she to turn for food and water? The sea would be swifter, but if she does not have the ships …

Daenerys is a girl with no homeland. Daughter of a king who was, by all accounts, truly monstrous. A girl who assimilated herself into a culture she was sold into and forcibly married into, a girl who woke dragons out of stone, literal monsters out of myth. Small wonder Dany has also come to see the word “monster” as describing herself.

Mother of dragons, Daenerys thought. Mother of monsters. What have I unleashed upon the world? A queen I am, but my throne is made of burned bones, and it rests on quicksand. Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros? I am the blood of the dragon, she thought. If they are monsters, so am I.

Other people also use the word “monster” against Dany, for her crimes of rebellion and upsetting the social order. And being a mother to dragons is also a feminine sort of monstrosity.

"Sweet?" Qavo laughed. "If even half the stories coming back from Slaver's Bay are true, this child is a monster. They say that she is bloodthirsty, that those who speak against her are impaled on spikes to die lingering deaths. They say she is a sorceress who feeds her dragons on the flesh of newborn babes, an oathbreaker who mocks the gods, breaks truces, threatens envoys, and turns on those who have served her loyally. They say her lust cannot be sated, that she mates with men, women, eunuchs, even dogs and children, and woe betide the lover who fails to satisfy her. She gives her body to men to take their souls in thrall."

Oh, good, thought Tyrion. If she gives her body to me, she is welcome to my soul, small and stunted though it is.

It seems like Tyrion and Daenerys are destined for some kind of partnership, and this quote hints at a sexual one. That doesn’t necessarily mean that Dany x Tyrion will happen, because it could also be a symbolic coupling. Whatever happens between them, this quote is very intimate, an exchange of bodies and souls. A union of monsters.

"Have you ever bedded a monster before?”

Of the characters that question the label of “monster” applied to disabled people, Oberyn is one. In ADWD, Sweets, the intersex character who is a slave in Yezzen’s menagerie, uses the word to contrast the ableist labels given to Tyrion and the other slaves and to point out the true monstrosity of what they are being subjected to.

"You will want to be careful with Nurse," said Sweets when the overseer had departed. "He is the only true monster here."

The narrative is telling us that the true monsters are the ones who dehumanize others, and it’s those who have been called monsters that are in a position to call this out.

For Dany, it is not only confronting the monstrosity of her family’s legacy, manifested in the literal monstrosity of the dragons, but also tied into this narrative is the fact that all of the men that Dany has loved have been monsters (and, similarly to Tyrion, Dany spends a lot of time thinking of herself as a monster because of how she has been abused by monstrous men.)

(About Daario) Dany was appalled. He is a monster. A gallant monster, but a monster still. 

Again we see the theme of men who give the appearance of gallantry but are moral monsters, just as Sansa once thought Joffrey gallant. And both Tyrion and Dany struggle with whether they are any different from these moral monsters.

What have I done? she thought, huddled in her empty bed. I have waited so long for him to come back, and I send him away. "He would make a monster of me," she whispered, "a butcher queen." But then she thought of Drogon far away, and the dragons in the pit. There is blood on my hands too, and on my heart. We are not so different, Daario and I. We are both monsters. 

“My hands …" Tyrion turned them over, inspected them, coiled them into fists. "… my hands are crusted with old blood, aye. Call me kinslayer, and you won't be wrong. Kingslayer, I'll answer to that one as well. I have killed mothers, fathers, nephews, lovers, men and women, kings and whores. 

The irony of these quotes is that the very context contradicts the claim that these characters are what they say. Dany is not the monster the men influencing her would have her be, and Tyrion didn’t even do half the things he is confessing to.

[ajoblotofjunk]

DVD commentary for the July chapter of HFOG! or just the motorcycle ride if that’s too much lol

All of July is too much for me mentally right now so I’ll do the motorcycle ride. :D This got (unsurprisingly!!) long, so lemme put a Keep Reading cut in real quick.

A week later, on the off Sunday between Winterfell and Lannisport, Jaime was spending his birthday alone at the office.

I’ll do this whole section, since it being on his birthday was the trigger I used to get Jaime to ask her to go on the bike. This scene was one of like three I had in my head from pretty much the beginning. I find motorcycles extremely sexy (I’m an easy target okay) and I loved the idea of forcing these two knuckleheads into that much physical contact in what should theoretically be a platonic experience; I just had to figure out how to get them there since Brienne just spent the last part of June pushing Jaime back a step. Hard to say no to a lonely man on his birthday though.

going clubbing until they were both passed out or dead by the end of it. Bronn was home with Lollys, probably having enough sex to stock them up until August, and Jaime wasn’t really close enough with the rest of the crew to consider spending time with them outside of work.

I think this was the month where I decided Bronn was going to be genuinely happy with Lollys. I know I mentioned her early on but I toyed around in my head for awhile with the idea that he was still kind of loose and maybe even unfaithful to her, and I decided I didn’t want to go that way. I wanted to like Bronn in this fic. He’s kind of my Sarcastic Wise Elder character for these two and I really grew to love the idea that he is just as much an inner softie in his heart as Jaime is, that that sharp outer shell/gooey center combo was something that connected them. I think it really helped in the October chapter that Bronn was likable, because then that scene in the hospital between him and Jaime had a much bigger emotional hit.

The only other person he wanted to see was Brienne and though she’d sent him a ‘happy birthday!’ text that morning unprompted, he hadn’t responded for

I laugh to myself thinking about Brienne hovering over that text message all “should I send a gif? is the text going to be enough? what about emojis? Is it weird if I text him at all? He didn’t tell me it was his birthday but I definitely know it’s his birthday because I have memorized a lot of unimportant facts about a man I am Definitely Not Into.”

lunch, smoked what he swore was the only cigarette he would have as a thirty-six year old, and then aimlessly watched TV for a few hours before driving his motorcycle into the office.

Jaime uses smoking to fill the hole of the things he wants but believes he’ll never have. At the start of the fic that’s respect and winning races. As he slowly gets those things, he smokes whenever he’s thinking about Brienne, even though he does not realize it consciously. Once he gets all three, he stops smoking for good.

There had been a scattered handful of engineers there that afternoon, working away in preparation for the different requirements of Lannisport next week, but

Honestly, sometimes remembering there were hundreds of people working on this team in particular was exhausting. 😂 I always had this constant voice in the back of my head of Lannister Corp scenes of “where are all these other workers and what are they doing?” It works here because I needed the ride to happen at night, but this is just giving me flashbacks to “oh right this team is actually 500-1000 people, not just these 12.”

He raised his glass of water to his empty office. “Happy birthday to me,” he muttered, taking a sip. It wasn’t even flavored water, which felt like such a maudlin statement on his life that he couldn’t finish it.

The “it wasn’t even flavored water” line still makes me laugh to this day. It’s one of my favorite moments in the entire story. It’s so DRAMATIC. Like, my god man, get a hold of yourself. Anyway, I love drama queen Jaime.

He probably should have texted Taena or Melara, but he didn’t want to spend time with them. He didn’t want to listen to his sister’s barely concealed insults

I had a whole bit…I think it was in August? Might have been earlier, I can’t recall now, anyway, two or three paragraphs talking about how Jaime met Melara and Taena and why they all worked out this arrangement and Brynn (rightly) made the point that it didn’t actually add anything to the story I was telling. I managed to cover what really mattered about it in two sentences instead. The moral of this is that this story could have been even longer but Brynn is the best so you should thank her.

find out what she did on her off days, what kind of birthday cake she liked, if

Chocolate with chocolate and fruit filling and chocolate frosting, FYI.

Brienne’s worried frown deepened. “Have you done anything for your birthday today?”

“I had a cigarette.”

She shook her head, looking disappointed. “Anything that doesn’t shorten your life by doing it?”

I also really like this line. I’m a fan of Worried Mom Friend Brienne, too.

“I drank some water,” he grumbled.

Unflavored! Like an ANIMAL. 😂

“Have you even eaten?”

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.”

She blinked, startled, and then a sheepish grin swarmed over her face. “I guess some things don’t change. At least you didn’t insult me this time.”

“Progress,” he said, smiling, watching her features go soft and open in a way he’d probably dream about that night. Distance, his brain reminded him.

I didn’t plan for this quiet callback to the sandwich conversation from January, but I really was pleased to see it happen. It makes sense; Brienne wants the people she cares about to take care of themselves and where back in January I think she felt she was being more his Mom, here they’re both aware she’s being his friend and that’s part of why it’s a softer moment.

“Then come riding with me. Have you been on a motorcycle before?”

“No. My dad was firmly against it after Galladon died.”

At this point in the fic I was pretty sure Brienne was going to drive although I hadn’t worked out all the details of how I was going to get there yet, but when I wrote this I definitely shored up the “Selwyn is very overprotective” support I’d only just started to build back with the phone call in January. I also knew when I wrote this that Jaime was going to bring the motorcycle to Tarth and her dad was going to be all about it, even though I wasn’t sure how that was going to happen. 

“Well,” he said, standing slowly, “your dad’s not here now, is he?”

Fun fact: this story idea first appeared to me in relation to Bruce Springsteen’s “I’m On Fire” and there’s a lyric in there - ‘hey little girl is your daddy home, did he go and leave you all alone’ - that this quietly references. And actually I wanted the whole motorcycle ride to have the exact same feeling when you’re reading it as I feel listening to that song! It’s a direct path from there to here emotionally.

(In some other universe instead of this I wrote a fic where Jaime keeps bringing his car in to Selwyn’s Garage just so he can see Brienne, grease smudged on her face, and he asks her to deliver it to his home and she does and, well. It doesn’t go like the video. *g*)

(That video and song were very formative influences on young me though I was not aware of it at the time. If you haven’t heard the song or seen the video, here you go: https://youtu.be/lrpXArn3hII)

Jaime arched an eyebrow. “My bike is plenty big.”

Brienne snorted but the red in her cheeks spread out to her crooked her nose and down the freckled length of her long neck. “Sounds like you’re compensating, Lannister.”

I could show you he thought but he bit it back, as well as the image of pushing her against the door of his office and- No. Bad. he told both his errant thoughts and his twitching cock like they were misbehaving dogs. 

Jaime has been horny for her since April (January though he would refuse to acknowledge it if you told him that at this point), give him a break.

He came around the desk and held out his hand and she stared down at it like it was a snake she was trying to decide was poisonous or not.

Brienne gingerly wrapped her long fingers around his

I wanted Brienne to actively participate in the decision to do this, to show through her actions (not just Jaime’s perceptions of her) that she wants this, too. I had to ramp things up for both of them in this chapter because I knew what was coming in August and I wanted them to be ready for that. I couldn’t have gone from where they were in June to the kiss in August, I had to force them together in a way they hadn’t intended so that when they come together intentionally it feels like a natural progressions, and that meant both of them had to be wanting it.

What are you doing? his brain demanded as he led Brienne through the empty corridors out to the front parking lot.

 Enjoying my birthday for once.

I like this because it’s both Jaime making excuses for why he’s doing something really foolish if he’s supposed to be keeping his distance but ALSO true and a sad reflection on his life (and what Brienne brings to it even now).

His bike was parked in Tywin’s CEO spot, where he always parked as a small, childish fuck you to his father. Brienne gasped as they walked up, pulling her hand away to brush the gleaming chrome.

“You have an Iron Throne!”

I know. I KNOW. But I love calling it that. I cast around for motorcycle names for awhile and when I hit on this I could not resist. Iron Thrones in this fic world are basically those giant Harleys that would easily seat two people.

weight of her against his palms. Brienne’s eyes narrowed and he worried for a second she’d heard his thoughts. “It’s not safe to ride without a helmet though, and I don’t have one. Do you have an extra?”

Jaime hadn’t brought his today, either. “We could wear driving helmets.”

As I recall it, Brynn came up with the idea of the helmet scene or at least definitely helped me work out how it was going to go when I got stuck on it. She made the point it should be a cute moment between them and it was right because it made the whole ride seem fun instead of just weighty and tense. The fact they actually have FUN together is really important to me because I think it’s really important to successful relationships in general. If you’re going to be with this person for the rest of you life, I hope like hell you enjoy spending time with them.

When she saw the helmet he had she laughed, the sound bursting up into the sky like a flock of startled birds.

I’m not usually happy with how I describe things - I never feel like it’s as interesting or descriptive or powerful as I want - but I do like this line a lot.

“It’s a helmet,” he said, holding it out to her. The helmet was a bright neon green and covered with frogs forming the words MOAT CAILIN with their bodies. “I got it from one of our sponsors a few years ago and kept it thinking someday I’d wear it just to piss off my father.”

What does Moat Cailin do? I genuinely have no idea. 😂

Brienne took the helmet and held it out away from her like it was a very stinky baby. “You’re sure no one is going to see us?”

“Now who’s vain?”

This made me laugh. I love when Brienne gets to be light-hearted.

“Isn’t there some biker lingo you should use instead?”

“Hop on my hog, sexy mama?”

Goofy Jaime: also a personal favorite. This is kind of an early insight into how he’s going to be in later months when he’s truly, unburdenedly (I made that word up) happy.

Brienne laughed even harder that time and shook her head. “You are so annoying,” she said fondly, climbing on behind him.

The “you’re annoying”/”you’re stubborn” back and forth is something I have been trying to consistently but not overwhelmingly carry through this fic from very early on.

“Since you’ve never ridden before, the primary rule is that you have to lean into the curves with me. If you’re balanced differently than I am it might bring the whole bike down.

Having ridden a motorcycle: this is actually true. It was the first thing the person I was riding with told me.

Her arms fully encircled his waist, her body pressed so firmly against his back he imagined he could feel the weight of her small breasts through his own shirt. He had no jacket but he didn’t need one; even if it hadn’t been for the drowsy summer heat, Brienne’s warmth against him stoked enough fire he could have burned all night.

You shouldn’t ride a motorcyle without proper gear, kids, but Jaime doesn’t give a fuck and for the purpose of this kind of intimate contact, neither do I for this story. 😁

It was almost like sex, the way they moved together around the curves, the blood thrumming in his veins, her occasional breathless gasp. He had to shift a little on his seat to make room for his awkward erection, but he pressed the bike faster, the curves tighter, until she was welded against him and the wind whipped her joyful laughter from her mouth, leaving it like tracers behind them in the dark. 

This is the image in my head when I thought of them on the motorcycle ride. Everything before and after this paragraph is just set up and pay off for this one part.

Centuries ago there had been a keep at the top of Aegon’s High Hill, but all that was left now were old stones weathered by time and the salt air off of Blackwater Bay.

Thank goodness for the internet, and people who post very detailed maps of King’s Landing and Westeros so I can figure out some of this stuff. I have spent a surprising amount of time for this fic looking at maps.

“Why were you at work today?” he asked, staring at her.

Brienne pulled off her hoodie to reveal a tank top underneath, her muscular shoulders bunching as she did so in a way that made his mouth go dry.

There’s a gif that was being posted in the Oathkeepers discord around the time I was writing this that I had in mind explicitly for this moment. 😄

Her skin seemed to absorb the light, making it white and smooth as milkglass, her freckles mirroring the infinite stars. “Truthfully,” she said, “I wanted to spend some time alone with the car.” Even in the moonlight the reddening of her pale cheeks was clear.

Survey says: Mostly true. She also was thinking of him, since it was his birthday. She genuinely did NOT expect him to be there, though.

Jaime walked to the edge of the flat gravel and stared across the Rush to roughly where he thought Tarth would be way down south in the Stormlands. It had been years since he’d been and he didn’t remember it well, but he wished he could so he could picture Brienne there.

Again, I knew he was going to be in Tarth the very next chapter, so I wanted to lay the groundwork for it to seem natural he would be. Bringing it up here was a perfect opportunity for that.

They put their helmets back on, and Brienne her hoodie, and she climbed on behind him again, her arms automatically curling around his waist this time instead of the distant grip of the start. He started the engine and leaned forward a little, and she leaned her head against his shoulder as they took the drive down more slowly.

This easy warmth was important, too. Again, the sexual tension is critical to get them to their breaking point because they’re sure as hell not going to talk about how much they care about each other first (or even for a long while after they start having sex, as we discover), but I wanted there to be something deeper to their bond, too, a connection that I could build on in the second half of the story where you believe they’ll be happy together as an established couple. That they’re comfortable together.

The trip down the hill was as solemn as the stars above and when he parked again in front of the Lannister Corp Racing offices Brienne took her helmet off and stared quietly at him when he remained seated, his visor pushed up.

I think subconsciously this is when Brienne really falls in love with him, because it’s just Jaime being Jaime, and sharing something important to him with her and that kind of openness is the key to her heart.

Sadness gleamed like the stars in her big twilight eyes. Brienne put a hand on his shoulder and his whole body went rigid under her touch. Her fingers crept to the nape of his neck under his helmet, softly brushed through the short hair there before she dragged them away again as her pale skin reddened. 

Brienne was more reserved here in the initial draft of this and Brynn thought there should be more and she was - as usual - absolutely right. So the touch was added to fully seal the momentous connection that happened here.

“You can get home okay?” he asked.

“I’ll take the bus, there’s a stop just by the sports bar.”

Brienne the Bus Rider strikes again. Hee.

He couldn’t even quit smoking; how was he ever going to quit wanting Brienne?

These two things are connected here for a reason! As noted above. Hee.

Wow this was fun for me, thank you for asking! 😊

[DVD Commentary Meme - Asks are open]

[twelvemonkeyswere]

What are your long-time favorite Jaime x Brienne fanfics?

haaaa thanks anon, I do love talking about my favorite anything.

for this one I’ll only refer to finished fics that I have read because there are several favorites that are wips or unfinished (here’s for the bakery AU, some day) and plenty of stuff I haven’t read at all.

for now, this is my curated, nowhere near comprehensive list of favorite fics, in no particular order, and which is way longer than you asked for:

1. Weekend at Casterly by green_light

I love this fic so much. it’s an instant classic: characterization is perfect, the humor is wonderful, the love declarations made me hold my breath. the one liners are a blast. I has so many great phrases and moments I can’t even start to mention them. my favorite moments are “you are real” and the robe, but there’s so much to love. if by any chance the author sees this--thank you. 

2. Works and Days by Mussimm

THIS FUCKING THING RIGHT HERE. the Hesiod reference (what it implies!!), the carefully crafted structure, the way form and content combine to build the tension and the character growth, and of course the perfectly hit emotional beats. I always love the idea that Brienne and Jaime, as commanders, would basically support one another in whatever way they could. I love how peace depends on which side of the field they are on basically at all times.

3. The Unicorn Incident by sdwolfpup

I love worldbuilding and this novellette here yees all my haws because it has an excellent sense of humor, a great pace, and builds a world both physical and emotional in a relatively small space. the scene at the lake is marvelous for many reasons which I don’t want to spoil, and the whole concept is the stuff of delight. I read it during a sleepless night and it was such a comfort.

4. alright, outta sight by Samirant

Samirant has written some of my favorite fics but I’m going with this one. I read it when it was still in progress and I haven’t recovered since. slice of life is difficult to pull off and doing it in 37k words even more so. the way the characters interact and talk and feel hits all the right spots for me and the ending, in particular, is absolutely beautiful. I admire the way the story seems to reach an emotional high in the most organic way and it leaves you with this sense of rightness.

5. Battle is the Great Redeemer by Lady_in_Red

this masterpiece has some of my favorite things–time loops, check; symbolism, check; in-depth exploration of the world it’s building, check (as I said, I love worldbuilding). every chapter was always better than the last, and seeing Jaime rewriting and relearning each lesson was such a journey all I wish is I could read it again without knowing how it ends.

6. All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66

what can I say except this is a fucking classic? the structure, the plot, the several universes (the worldbuilding!!). everyone has a favorite and mine has to be the universe of the scientists, the main one. it’s funny and intricate and I don’t usually like soulmate stuff (I prefer when they choose each other, I find it more powerful) but this right here is a love letter as to why these two characters belong together in any and all iterations and I can’t agree more.

7. Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire

nire has written way more stuff since she released this gem but it has a special place in my heart. The gentle playfulness with gender roles and the relationship dynamic is very well achieved and the whole premise is just wonderful. Jaime learning to embroider so he develops soft motor skills in his left hand? sign me the fuck up. I love this fic a lot because it’s very soft and funny and it also has one of my favorite tropes–women realizing Jaime is safe and naturally befriending him.

8. though our paths diverge (I travel with you) by robotsdance

I thought this fic wouldn’t be for me. I am not the biggest fan of body swap, I don’t like how invasive it is and how it’s usually used to poke fun at gender in the worst way possible. then robotsdance said “hold my drink,” swooped me off my feet, and gave us this. it’s a wonderful, wonderful piece (all I’ve ever read by robotsdance is wonderful), layered and nuanced. It’s about the growing love between two people, the growing intimacy between them, the growing bond that leads them to protect each other in smaller, deeper ways each day. and it’s about how when you care about someone, you care about their body as well. It’s easy to forget we’re alive in body, too.

9. Her name is pronounced Victory by dwellingondreams 

the Brienne POV is just magnificent, it’s all I’ll say. and I’m always happy whenever Jaime is taken away sooner rather than later from his family.

10. Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken

had to make the list, right? this is the first JB fic I ever read, about a year ago, and it was the first fic I read in about a decade for anything at all. it reminded me it could be fun and exciting and I fell in love with the way each character has their own quest of sorts, and how they eventually decide to share their paths, finding things about themselves on the way through their interactions with the other.

[gascon-en-exil]

Joining the Game Late: S8E6 “The Iron Throne”

Synopsis

Tyrion surveys the damage and finds his siblings, while Jon almost fights Grey Worm over executions. Arya and Jon are in the crowd as Daenerys gives her victory speech and Tyrion gets arrested for throwing away his pin. Tyrion goads Jon into growing a spine; he sort of does. Daenerys lives out her Season 2 vision and expounds upon her philosophy of conquest before Jon stabs her (not like that) and Drogon burns the symbolism...but not Jon for some reason. A tense trial at the Dragonpit, with Edmure still being a dumbass and a bid for democracy from Sam that goes over poorly. The man on trial nominates Bran as the new king which everyone accepts because he monologued a good thesis statement for the show, except Sansa who makes the North independent. For their crimes Tyrion is still Hand, and Jon is sent back to the Night’s Watch. Grey Worm, his antagonism ignored, sails to Naath, while Arya sails west off the map and Brienne finishes Jaime’s entry. The new small council features Sam dropping the book series title, Bronn arguing over the necessity of rebuilding brothels, and Davos completing a very old brick joke. Jon comes home to Tormund, and the two of them and Ghost lead the Free Folk north of the Wall as Sansa and Arya join them via cuts for a Stark ending.

Commentary

There are parts of this ending that I like. I like that the episode concludes with the Starks; uninterested as I generally have been in the family as primary PoV characters, it’s thematically appropriately to close out on the ongoing adventures of Jon, Sansa, and Arya. I like that Jon/Tormund is less of a joke than I was expecting, that Tormund features prominently in Jon’s final scenes and that the show sends them off as a sort of family unit along with Ghost and the remaining Free Folk. I like Brienne’s addition to Jaime’s entry in the book of the Kingsguard, highlighting his heroism while also remaining honest about his final decision...and delicately leaving out the incest, or her own fling with the man for that matter. It’s sterilized, and yet not wholly so, a fitting way to end the story of such a morally complicated figure whose very existence in the narrative seems to hinge on a deconstruction of the knight in shining armor archetype. I like the realization of Dany’s vision at the end of Season 2, a tacit understanding by the showrunners that they (and GRRM advising them) knew they were eventually going to get to that image of the Iron Throne in a ruined Red Keep covered in snow. I like that the show doesn’t belabor the “where are they now” aspect of the epilogue, that not everything is perfect and tidily wrapped up even if most of what isn’t is left unmentioned offscreen. It reminds me very much of most Fire Emblem endings, in the sense that a true happy ending remains elusive and there are always challenges left to face and tales remaining to be told. This isn’t Lord of the Rings, concluding when a fat and allegedly relatable guy named Samwell plops down a book (for the most part not written by him) bearing the title of the work in-universe as if to say that that’s the end of that and everything will sort itself out, nor is it Harry Potter with its treacly epilogue pairing everyone off into neat heterosexual marriages with 2.5 children and middle-class comfort. The story will continue, and you can place bets on how many decades of peace Westeros will have before there’s another continental war and a bunch of these characters get violently offed like the generation before them.

There are parts of this ending that I can abide. I’ve reconciled myself to the indignity of Bronn taking Highgarden by seeing in him a type of character like Thénardier from Les Misérables. Both of them are amoral, avaricious assholes despite occasional entertaining moments, and despite that their stories reward them not only with survival but with wealth and notoriety far beyond what they deserve purely as a demonstration that life is often unfair like that. Perhaps Bronn’s lordship of the setting equivalent of Paris was an explicit nod to that? I don’t mind the council at the Dragonpit laughing outright at Sam’s suggestion - transparent as it was coming from the author’s self-insert - of elective democracy, because much like FE the pseudo-medieval stasis this setting is locked into is not realistically equipped to handle such a revolutionary political shift, much less competently depict it in around half an hour of remaining screentime. I can bear the overt allusions to fascist regimes in Daenerys’s victory speech scene, because if you’re going to pivot her from liberator with worrying violent tendencies to tyrannical conqueror hard enough to make it reasonably justifiable that the show’s two most prominent remaining “good” guys would conspire to assassinate her with only that one scene to do it in you may as well go all out with the shorthand. Drogon not roasting Jon is stupid, but melting the Iron Throne is a great symbolic image: destroying all the ruin and strife it represents, coming full circle with the Targaryen reign over Westeros, and so forth.

And then there’s one part of this ending that’s really hard for me to swallow, particularly as Fire Emblem: Three Houses presents a variation of the same scene with much better execution. As this episode aired only about three months before the release of FE16 the similarities between Daenerys’s death and the final cutscene of Azure Moon can be nothing more than an interesting coincidence, but as you’d be hard-pressed to argue that Edelgard did not take some design cues from Daenerys - and to a lesser extent Dimitri from Jon - during the game’s development it’s a useful coincidence for contrast purposes. I mentioned a few posts ago that most of the uncomfortable elements present in Dany’s death are absent in Edelgard’s; she and Dimitri are not sexually involved at any point, and the game focuses instead on their familial bond even though (ironically) they are not biologically related. Dimitri also kills Edelgard in self-defense, after he reaches out his hand to her and she responds by throwing a dagger at him - which is considerably less awful than Jon leading Daenerys into a kiss just so he can stab her. Three Houses also benefits in that Dimitri is a far better realized character overall than Jon Snow, with a clearly defined arc in Azure Moon, meaningful convictions that place him at odds with Edelgard on both a personal and philosophical level, and even a stronger queer angle - also with a bear belonging to a historically marginalized culture/ethnicity, humorously enough. Jon by contrast feels at this stage mostly formless, with nothing strongly defining him (barring perhaps his affection for the Free Folk, which is what he returns to when everything is said and done) and in fact a repeatedly reference lack of desire to do things. Little wonder then that his decision to kill Daenerys comes more or less entirely because Tyrion told him she was the final boss and had to be taken care of.

Regarding Dany herself...if you’ve been following this liveblog the whole way through you know that I’ve been watching her character since the show began for signs that she’d wind up where she does. Yes, they are there, quite in abundance actually, and where the show stumbles comes of course from how terrible paced the story is by the time it reaches her breaking point. The audience has to make do with some of the most obvious fascist signposting imaginable and a single nonsensical speech to Jon (something else she has in common with Edelgard incidentally, who has many of these) revealing Daenerys to be the egomaniacal conqueror she always was with no subtlety whatsoever because the show has run out of time for subtlety. To this episode’s credit I do appreciate that Grey Worm continues to stick around as a foil and reflection of Daenerys. His rage over Missandei’s death sees him executing captured Lannister soldiers en masse, and he continues to demand justice for Tyrion’s betrayal even though after this point the writers stopped caring about him and shipped him off to Naath for an ending (where I am told there are plague-bearing butterflies? That doesn’t bode well.). In Grey Worm one can see a version of Daenerys’s own anger at all that she has suffered and lost, and how destructive that anger can be - only Grey Worm doesn’t have a dragon that can charbroil a city in minutes. Still, these are mere scraps of characterization to set up such a drastic shift in presentation for one of the show’s two biggest leads, and I can definitely understand why fans were angry about it and probably still are. Even as someone who was expecting this all along and was never personally invested in Daenerys the way I was with some other characters, her death - the centerpiece of this episode, and the lead-in to GoT’s epilogue - was easily the biggest sour note of its finale, less that it happened at all and more how, and probably the single event in the last two-ish seasons that more than any other really needs the book series to flesh it out and develop it into something worthwhile.

I think that’s a wrap. I’ve spent nearly four months on this liveblog and have written far more than I possibly imagined that I would. Maybe sometime in a year or so I’ll return to this series again and just watch it through without taking notes. Perhaps I’m in a minority for believing that GoT would even be worth a rewatch. Eh...if you’ve read all this at least you know why.

[sonicrainicorn]

In My Life

Part of the Berry Done AU

Words: 10618 Desc.: Patton always lived under the assumption that blood was thicker than water. But if a patient needs type B- you can’t give them A+. So if there’s family that isn’t the blood type you need... why risk a fatal reaction? TW: Transphobia, homophobic language, queer used as a slur, general bullying, suicide (mention), minor character death (mention), brief discussion of sex, bad coming out experiences

///

Patton didn’t remember being an only child. He was two years old when Damien was born and three years old when Alexandria was born. His earliest memories have always been filled with siblings.

Supposedly, when Patton held both his siblings for the first time, he fell in love with them. He didn’t say anything, but he held them close and stared at them like they were the most fascinating things he had ever seen.

And that’s how it had always been.

Patton loved both of his siblings more than anything — he loved his family. By the time he was five, he decided to give as much love to his family as he could. Every day he would say that he loved them. Before leaving for school, he’d hug his parents and give his siblings each a kiss on their foreheads. Alexandria always giggled and babbled at him while Damien made a face as if he was unimpressed with it. (But he’d get mad if Patton tried to leave without giving him one.)

It was normal. Easy. Typical. There was nothing special about his upbringing. He lived a picture-perfect life with a nuclear family. That was the American dream, wasn’t it? That’s what many people tried to achieve. And he had it right from birth. Looking back on it as an adult, he was rather… privileged. He didn’t realize it growing up. Not everyone had a life like he did. Not everyone was as lucky.

That's what his grandma tried to teach him.

"Patton, sometimes things are difficult for other people," she would always say. "You have to stand up for them whenever they need it. Help them when you can. Everyone listens to people like us. Use it for good."

His mom didn't like the way she talked sometimes. He overheard her once, berating her own mother of trying to raise her children to be anarchists.

When he learned what that word meant, he didn't think it was accurate.

He liked his grandma a lot. She was kind and full of lessons and stories. Plus, she was really good at baking. That was a great trait in any grandmother — any person, even.

But sometimes his parents fought with his grandma. Only sometimes. They had arguments about the way she saw the world and the way she tried to teach it to Patton and his siblings. He didn't understand why they couldn't both be right. Parents were always right. And all his grandma ever said was to be nice to people no matter how "strange" they may seem. That seemed right, too.

Still, they didn't get to see their grandma that often.

And it wasn't until middle school that her views on the world started to make sense to Patton.

There was a boy in his grade named Seth. He was shy and didn't have many friends, but he was nice. Patton had two classes with him. He never gave him much thought, though. Not until he saw some other boys picking on him. It was what his dad referred to as "harmless fun", so he didn't say anything at first. He watched from the sidelines as things turned less harmless and less fun. He didn't step in until they pushed him over.

He wasn't much of a fighter. He was a runner. Literally. He was on the cross country team. These boys could snap him in half without breaking a sweat. That didn't stop him from standing in. He was scared and nervous, but he stood between Seth and the other boys. “Leave him alone,” he said in the strongest voice he could muster. “He hasn’t done anything to you.”

The boys were surprised. They looked between each other, unsure of what to do. No one had ever stopped them before. One of them tried to make a move but was halted by the leader. At least, Patton assumed he was the leader. “Sure,” he said, annoyed. “We were done.” Then they left.

Patton didn’t sigh in relief until they were out of sight. All of his limbs were trembling and his heart hammered in his ears. He wasn’t sure what they’d do, but he was glad they were gone. “Are you okay?” He turned to Seth.

Seth stared up at him in shock. “You helped me.”

“Uh, yeah. It looked like you needed it.” He extended a hand.

Seth continued to stare at him. Slowly, he accepted the offer. “Thank you.”

They became friends after that.

It was a gradual thing. After helping him, Patton became more aware of Seth’s presence. He sent him smiles in class, stayed with him after school in the time before practice, stood up for him. Seth was wary of it at first. No one had ever helped him out before. But Patton assured him that he didn’t have an ulterior motive. He was doing it just to be nice, but he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries so he kept it to a minimum.

Seth was rather friendly once passed the anxious and shy walls. He was soft-spoken. Gentle. He avoided confrontation as much as possible. But he had passions. He was a very good artist. He loved animals. He liked hearing stories.

Patton enjoyed his presence. He didn’t understand why other people picked on him. They just didn’t know him.

Maybe the thing was they thought they did.

He heard what his friends said. Their mean whispers based on speculation. Patton was never one for rumors. But everyone thought Seth was odd. A weirdo. A pansy. There were a lot of adjectives thrown around about him that everyone was convinced were fact. The thing about rumors, however, is everyone is convinced their version of the story is correct.

"What?" Patton looked at his friend incredulously.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I heard it from Jaime. He likes guys."

"Well, I like you guys." Sometimes.

"Not like that." Ryan stepped in. "As in like them. Like," he leaned over and made kissy faces at Samson.

"Gross! Get out of here!" He tried to push him back.

Patton rolled his eyes at their shenanigans. He didn’t understand the big deal. His grandma had an old picture of her kissing a girl when she was younger. She put it up in the hallway of her house to make his dad angry. He saw it every time they went over. It was a normal thing.

Still, Patton decided to ask his parents about it.

His dad’s reaction was to be expected. “It’s wrong. Two men shouldn’t be together like that. It isn’t natural. If God wanted two men to be together, he would have made one for Adam.”

“But —” If God didn’t want men to be together, he wouldn’t have made some people that way. And didn’t God make everyone a certain way? Isn’t that what you said? — “Mom?”

Mom sighed softly. She was mending one of Alexandria’s dresses. “Listen to your father, sweetheart.”

~~~

As the cross country season switched over to track and field, Patton and Seth became closer friends. There were still rumors and name-calling, but they tried to ignore it as best as they could. Patton stood up for Seth whenever he needed to. A lot of people started calling Patton things as well. They didn’t understand why he continued to hang out with Seth Summers of all people.

He was a good friend, that’s why.

Recently, he started waiting after school for Patton to finish practice. He said it was so he could do homework in peace and then get a ride home. Patton saw the reasoning in that. He had been to Seth’s house. He knew how chaotic it got with all those siblings.

Turned out Seth was also the oldest. But he had one more sister than Patton did. She was only a few months old, and Seth loved her to death. Besides all the kids, there was also Mrs. Summers and her parents. Patton never asked about Mr. Summers, and Seth never told him. Nevertheless, it was a lot of bodies in a tiny house. It would make sense to want to spend time out of that.

And Patton’s mom liked Seth, so it was no issue taking him home.

It became a routine. Every day after school, Seth would walk with Patton up to the track and then sit in the bleachers and do homework until it was time to leave. Mondays and Wednesdays Alexandria had band practice, so she was always in the car by that time. Tuesdays and Thursdays Damien had baseball practice, so he also had a spot on the car before them. Fridays were the only days where it was just the two of them in the backseat. Sometimes Seth came over on those days.

“Isn’t it weird to be the only boy?” Damien asked as he readied to swing the bat. They were in the backyard since Dad said Damien needed more practice.

“Not really.” Seth was sitting on the porch. “It is what it is. Plus, Marianna is more of a boy than I am. She likes football and getting dirty. All those types of things.” He followed the baseball with his eyes.

Alexandria caught it in her mitt. “Is there anything wrong with that?” She handed it back to Patton.

“No.”

Patton kept the ball in his hand. They had been at this for a while already. He could tell both Alexandria and Damien were getting tired of it.

To prove his point, Damien let out a pitiful sound and slumped his shoulders. “I have a game tomorrow. How long does Dad expect us to do this?”

Alexandria plopped down on the grass to give herself a break from chasing the ball. “We’ve been doing it forever.”

Before Patton could agree and say they should head inside, their dad poked his head out. "Alexandria, if you're going to sit on the ground sit like a lady." She huffed and sat properly. "Why are you using your brother's glove? Let Patton do the catching."

"But I suck at catching," Patton whined.

Damien leaned against his bat. "Yeah, he sucks at catching. Al is a lot better at it."

"Baseball isn't for girls," Dad said pointedly. "Come inside Alex. Let the boys play."

"But I —"

"Now."

Alexandria sighed and threw off the glove. She trudged in the house without looking up at anyone.

"You two,” he pointed between his sons, “start catching."

"But —" Damien tried to interject.

"No buts. The only way to improve is to practice." He went back inside.

"That seemed a little harsh," Seth muttered after a moment.

Damien huffed and picked up his glove from where Alexandria threw it. "Dads are just like that."

Patton frowned at the baseball.

The next week started their routine all over again. Same days. Same things. Except on Thursday, there was a slight break in their established schedule. Patton walked out of the locker room, expecting to see Seth waiting nearby, but that didn't happen. Seth wasn't there.

Surprised, Patton looked all around the building. Nothing. This was a first. Patton decided to go back up to the track to see if he was still there. He didn't know where else to look.

As he walked up, he spotted someone under the bleachers. They seemed about the right size and shape for Seth.

“Hey, what are you doing up here?” Patton ducked under. “My mom’s gonna come by soon.” He wasn’t met with a response. “Seth?”

There was a pause. Then Seth turned to face him, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Patton froze.

"Everyone hates me, Pat.” He wiped his eyes. “They all think I’m weird, or gross or — or whatever it is they say about me.” He put his face in his hands. “No matter what I do it’s never going to change.”

“I…” Patton didn’t know how to respond. “I think it can change.”

Seth dropped his hands, partially glaring at Patton. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re Patton Calon. Everyone loves you. You have a perfect life — you’re perfect.” He slumped to the floor. “Straight A student, star athlete, handsome, funny. You’re great at everything. I don’t understand why you hang out with me.”

“I can’t bake.”

Seth looked up at him. “What?”

“I’m not good at baking.” Patton sat beside him. “It always ends up burnt or tasting weird no matter what I do. And I’m bad at drawing. I don’t know how to read sheet music. I’m not much of a catcher. My handwriting is terrible.” He shrugged. “We’re all bad at something as much as we’re good at other things. And I like hanging out with you. You’re fun, and nice, and interesting. I wouldn’t trade any moment I’ve spent with you for anything else.”

Before Patton could even blink, Seth’s lips crashed into his. His eyes widened and a surprised squeak remained caught in the back of his throat. He didn’t know how to respond. Yet as quickly as it started, it was over. Seth pulled back as a slow realization crossed his face.

“Oh my God,” he uttered in horror. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I’m sorry. I —”

Patton did the only thing he could think to do to stop Seth’s rambling. He connected their lips together. It was messy and clumsy, but it got its point across. “Come on,” Patton said after. “My mom will be here soon.” He extended a hand to help Seth up.

Seth didn’t do anything other than stare at him. Slowly, he gave a soft smile. “Alright.” He took Patton’s hand.

They didn’t let go until they saw the car.

~~~

One day, there was an incident. 

Patton and Seth walked together into school, as was their habit, and talked between themselves. Ever since their kiss, something shifted. Spending time together was different. Sharing glances was different. Sometimes it felt like they were in their own little world. 

They didn’t notice something was off until they got to Seth’s locker. 

A group of students was around it, whispering — some snickering. Patton made his way through them to help Seth to his own locker. When he got there he stopped in his tracks. Seth crashed into his back at the sudden stop and moved around to see what was wrong. He didn’t show anything but surprise at first.

All of their lockers were light blue. It was one of the school’s colors, so it made sense. But it only made the thick, black marks stand out more. They curled into five messy letters. Harmless on their own, but together they implied something cruel. An assumption. Queer.

At the time, it was still used mostly as an insult. Patton didn’t understand why it was. As a word by itself, it wasn’t very mean or unpleasant sounding. When people gave it a meaning, that’s where all the hate came from. He heard it once in passing. Not to him or anyone he knew, but to a man wearing a dress. He didn’t ask what it meant. The person that said it sounded angry so he assumed it was a bad word. The man didn’t seem upset by it; he just ignored the person and waited for his bus.

His grandma was with him. She was taking him and Damien and Alexandria somewhere. He didn’t remember. He had a feeling if they weren’t there she would have said something. Instead, she grumbled, “Damn hick town.” and kept walking, tugging Damien and Alexandria along a little faster.

“Grams, what’s wrong with wearing a dress?” Alexandria asked before Patton could ask something similar. She was only five.

“Nothing,” Grams responded. “Anyone can wear whatever they want no matter who they are.”

“Even boys in dresses?” Damien questioned in his quiet voice.

“Yes, even them.”

Since then, it was the only time Patton heard the word. But now, here it was written on his friend’s locker. He couldn’t help but remember the way that person said it. Hateful. Full of anger and venom. That’s the way someone wrote it. That’s how they wanted it to be seen. They succeeded.

Seth turned and ran, pushing himself through the crowd. Patton remained frozen for a moment before regaining control of his body and following after him. The kids around them whispered even louder.

He followed him into the restroom, not making it in time to stop one of the stalls from shutting. The bell rang for the start of the school day. Patton ignored it. “Seth?” He gently knocked on the stall door. “Are you okay?”

“I told you,” Seth sobbed. “I told you it wouldn’t change. You’re better off without me.”

“I…” Patton didn’t know what to say. “I like you. I like hanging out with you. You’re — you’re nice.”

“Just go to class. You shouldn’t be late because of me.”

He idled. What was he supposed to do if Seth didn’t want to listen to him? “Um, o-okay, um, I’ll see you later then.” He still hesitated. “I can stay —”

“Don’t.”

Patton winced. “Okay. I-I’ll, um, I’ll go. You know where to find me.”

But Seth didn’t go to find him. He stayed hiding the rest of the day. Somewhere not even Patton could find. And Patton looked everywhere when he found the restroom empty. He was gone. Maybe moving spots like some horrible game of hide-and-seek. Eventually, Patton was forced to give up. He had to go home. If he were given a choice, he would have kept searching.

The next day Seth didn't show up for school. Or the next. Or the next after that. Patton started to wonder what was going on; Seth had never missed so much school before. He was another missed day from going over to his house to see what happened.

He didn't have to.

He walked into school that morning, alone again. He noticed a group of students around his locker. Annoyed and aggravated by the mystery of his friend, Patton pushed through the group without so much as a sorry. He wished he didn't.

In that same black permanent marker was a word. A similar word to the one on Seth's, except this one was… meaner. Patton realized he heard his father say it a few times. Maybe this person heard it the same way. It was ugly from all angles. There wasn’t any way to make it seem innocent. It was obvious this was meant to hurt. It was mean and awful. Not a word kids say unless their parents say it first.

Damn hick town, indeed.

Patton couldn't look away from it. He was sure this would be seared into his brain forever. It looked burned into his locker. He reached out and touched it, swiping his finger along all six letters, but it didn't do a thing. It had dried long ago. There was nothing to do but scrub it off. He didn't want to do that, though. He would rather take the door off its hinges and throw it as far as he could. He'd rather break it to pieces. But he knew if he did that then he'd get into more trouble than the person who wrote the word. So the door stayed where it was. The word stayed where it was. No one said anything.

The bell rang.

That was the thing that snapped Patton out of his trance. He didn't touch his locker. He left to go to class before the other kids even moved.

Class announcements always started in first period at the same exact time every day without fail. Except for today. Today they were late. Not by much, but enough to notice that they were missing. When the familiar sound to begin announcements finally turned on, all the students in class settled down one by one. There was a single announcement made.

Seth Summers passed away yesterday afternoon.

The room went eerily quiet. It didn’t even sound like anyone breathed.

Patton sure as hell didn’t. All the air had been stolen from him like he landed flat on his back. He stared at the empty chair two seats away from him.

The announcement continued, stating rather vaguely that he killed himself. Of course, it was said as politely as such a tragedy can be said. Though it still felt pretty blunt to Patton. He looked for Seth everywhere. He should have stayed with him in the bathroom. He should have decided to go over sooner. He should have done something but instead, he sat around and waited. And now it was too late.

There was a moment of silence to end the announcement. Even when it was over no one uttered a word.

While Patton sat there in the tense, blanket of quiet, he promised that he would never let this happen again to anyone. If he didn’t make this promise, he’d fear it would happen again. He felt it was up to him to stop it. He didn’t want anyone he cared about reaching their breaking point. Whether it meant standing up for them or talking them off the edge, he’d do it. Whatever it took.

~~~

When Alexandria was thirteen she told Patton she had an issue. And Patton, being her older brother, seemed like the best person to go to. Well, other than Grams. Grams was always the number one choice for the siblings whenever the option arose. But they hadn't seen her recently so she went to Patton.

She walked into his room while he was doing homework. Before he could even acknowledge her, she started speaking, "Do you ever feel like… your clothes are wrong?"

Patton stared at her. She was twisting the end of her shirt in her hands, avoiding his gaze while her cheeks turned bright red. "Uh, what do you mean by that?"

"I-I just mean like — like you don't think they're right. There's something wrong with… how they look."

"I can't say that I know the feeling." Patton set his pencil down. He could finish later. "I rather like my clothes. I think they suit me."

"Y-yeah, well, um, that's the thing. I… I don't…" She balled her shirt in her hands. "I don't think my clothes suit me."

"I'm sure Mom will take you shopping."

She cringed at that. "I don't like going shopping with Mom. She only picks out what she wants me to wear."

"Well, Dad doesn't like shopping at all."

"And even if he did, he'd probably choose whatever he thinks I should be wearing."

Patton frowned a bit. "We could ask Grams."

"I feel like maybe she'd be the only one to get it." She dropped her shirt. "I-I'll ask her when we see her." She turned to leave.

"Alex, wait."

She hesitantly turned back to him.

He could tell something was off, but he couldn't place what. Alexandria was normally an eccentric person; she wasn't a wallflower by any means. She liked being loud and went in with a hundred percent confidence with everything. She goofed off, often causing mischief with Damien, and loved with every inch of her heart. "Is that really all you wanted to say?"

"No, but…" She hesitated again before taking a seat on his bed. “I don’t know if this will make any sense to you. I-it’s not only that my clothes look wrong, it’s that — it’s like they don’t fit right, either.”

Patton sat beside her. “Why don’t they?”

“I don’t know.” She hugged her knees. “It's like they’re too small. It's uncomfortable and I hate it, but everyone else is acting like it's normal. I want to wear something that I fit in. Something that feels right. But everyone — Mom, Dad — they're all handing me clothes too small and forcing me to wear them. They're shoving it in my face and I — I just —” She buried her face in her knees. “I just want to be normal.”

He didn’t know what to say for a moment. He had no idea what she was going through. “Let’s talk to Grams.” He stood up.

She looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

“We both know she has all the answers all the time. Let’s go see her.”

“But, but  Mom —”

“She’s not here.”

That was true. She searched for another excuse. “W-well, you don’t even have a license.”

“Well, I know how to drive.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Not if you don’t get caught.” He mussed up her hair, pushing some strands in her face. “C’mon. There’s only so much time Dad can handle pretending to pick out groceries.” He pulled her to her feet.

She didn’t have anymore protests as he took her down the stairs. Damien was by the kitchen with his hand in a box of Cheez-It crackers. “What are you guys up to?” He took out a handful of tasty orange squares.

“We’re gonna see Grams,” Patton answered, already opening the door.

Damien tossed the box back on the dining table. “And you weren’t going to tell me? Unbelievable.” He followed them out and offered some of his Cheez-Its to Alexandria.

~~~

No one could make a choice for Alexandria. They could only present her with options. It wasn’t anyone’s decision but her own.

Once he chose what to do it became rather hard to switch over.

Not that no one tried — they did. But once you know someone one way for nearly fourteen years, it’s hard to break a habit. Still, they tried. Damien, Patton, and Grams. They were the only ones he told. There was no one else he trusted as much as them. Which was heartwarming, really, but that was only three people out of everyone he knew. He didn’t even trust his friends enough to tell them.

In a town like this, it wasn’t too far off to assume everyone would be against it.

But despite that, he seemed happy to finally have a name to put to what he felt. He wasn't alone. There were other people like him.

Grams, predictably, was a big help. She didn't have an answer at first — hadn't had experience with it before — but she worked tirelessly to figure one out. Both she and Alexandria spent a lot of time together doing research. (Most of it behind parents' backs.) It meant a lot to Alexandria to have someone help him out through all the confusion. Patton and Damien were always there, but they didn't partake in any research. They felt odd doing it. Like they were intruding somehow.

Which made sense when Grams — Rosie Picani — came out to them as agender.

Looking through all the answers made her realize that not everyone felt the way that she did. What she was had a different name. In her case, it wasn't that the clothes fit wrong, it was that she was tailoring them herself the whole time and assumed everyone did the same. Apparently, it was never too late to discover new things about yourself.

With identities out of the way, there was still an issue of what to be called. In Alexandria's case anyway. Grams was fine with still being Rosie. She was fine with still being referred to as "she" — it wasn't as if she had much of a preference to begin with. But Alexandria wasn't sure if he wanted to keep his name. Not that he was called that every day or anything. Normally it was Alex. Sometimes Al in the case of Patton and Damien. He was only ever called Alexandria when he was in trouble.

"Names can be special," Grams said once. Their parents were there so she kept it vague. Played it off like some old-age wisdom. "Every one has a meaning. Some grand. Some small. But we have them for a reason. Perhaps you can say there are certain names we were always meant to have. Whether we choose them or not.”

And, once again, no one could make the choice for Alexandria. It was up to him to decide.

So as much as Patton wanted to be an overbearing older brother, he wouldn’t. Or rather, he couldn’t. It wasn’t his life to live — it wouldn’t be right to step in. He and Damien had been in the background every step of the way, and they would continue to do so. They were only there for support — not to meddle.

When he came into Patton’s room one day, telling him his preferred name, Patton just smiled. He messed with his hair the same way he always did, and said, “Sure thing, Emile.”

After that, Patton thought it would be over. Everything was settled, wasn’t it? Yes, there were accidents — slips of the tongue that were difficult to overcome — but soon everything locked into place. That should have been the end, right? Emile with his proper name and pronouns. A happy ending.

It wasn't that simple.

Many years later, a month before Patton left for college, he heard shouting down the hall. Angered shouting. He ended the call with his friend and opened his door. The shouting hit him full force. It was his dad. That shouldn't have been surprising to him. Whenever there was yelling, most of the time it was his dad.

He followed it to Damien's room but didn't walk in. He stayed next to the doorway. Out of sight, but still able to hear. If there was one thing he learned from all his years, it was to never interrupt Dad while he was in the middle of a rant. No matter how horrible it was.

"You are my daughter. Start acting like it."

Damien tried to protest.

"Don't defend her. You shouldn't even be lending her your clothes, anyway."

Patton waited. He let his dad scream at his little brothers without stepping in. Without saying a word. He waited until his dad left. He didn't talk to him. They both pretended the other wasn't there. Only when he was down the stairs did Patton look into the room. Damien scowled at the ground. Emile tried not to let his tears go. He didn't succeed. He threw himself at Damien and cried into his shoulder. Damien hugged him without a word. He spotted Patton, giving him a glare that said, "Why didn't you do anything?"

But Patton didn't have a response. All he could think was that he'd be leaving them soon. It wasn't his choice, really. He didn't want to go to a university, but his parents insisted. He tried to tell them that going to a four-year school for an associate's degree was a waste of money, but they didn't listen. They were hoping he'd change his mind about his career choice. They wanted him to do something "better". So, in the middle of being annoyed and wanting to be away from his parents, he chose a school in the farthest state he could get to.

He didn't think about what that might mean for his brothers.

~~~

University life was not at all what Patton was prepared for. Not that he was prepared for much. He was just a dumb country boy from a small town. That's everything he had ever known for eighteen years. Most people there didn't even think about college. But here he was. A new place. A new state.

No family.

At all.

For the first time in his life, he was completely alone. No brothers right down the hall. No parents arguing in the kitchen. No grandmothers a few streets away. He was on his own. He was somewhere where new faces were common and you were lucky to see anyone more than once. He couldn't name everyone he saw. He didn't know what they did or what their parents did or how long they had lived here. He was surrounded by strangers.

It was scary and new, and… he got used to it.

The first few weeks were rough, but once he settled in, he really settled in. This was the type of place he belonged to. New people, new places, new experiences — he had no idea life could be this way. There was so much to do and see, but not enough time to do and see them. He still had to go to school, after all. But he made the most of it. Out of everything. He stayed on top of his classes while also going out with friends every other night. It was the most organized he had ever been in his life.

He met so many people in his first year alone; not all of them remained friends. Now, he didn't want to say he slept around, but… he didn't exactly say no to very many advances. Men, women, both — on occasion. Whoever. Whenever. If they were willing, so was he. Though, he did have a few actual relationships that continued longer than a night (or two). Some didn't last long. Others lasted a while. There was one with a girl that lasted half a year. That was certainly a fun time for both of them. He started to get a bit of a reputation as a playboy, though. Never, in his entire life, did he think that would be applied to him.

He didn't consider himself one. He just enjoyed being with people. He's sure he's fallen in love a little bit with everyone he's ever met. But not everyone was like that. Some people only give their hearts to those they truly love. Patton left a piece of his heart with everyone. Not a lot of people understood that.

Regardless, college life was something he never knew he needed and he rather enjoyed it.

But at the start of his second year, something came up. His phone started to ring in the middle of the night. He opened his eyes to a vaguely familiar room and groped around for his phone so he could shut it up. The bright light blinded him for a moment, but he was able to make out the caller ID.

"Emile?" He stared at it in confusion. The body beside him grumbled and shifted. He finally answered it. "Em? It's already passed midnight." Well, for Patton at least. There was an hour difference between them.

"I-I'm sorry, I just —"

"Are you okay?" He sat up, feeling more awake by the second. "What's wrong?"

He stifled a sob. “I, I tried to make them understand. M-Mom just — she just stood there. She, she didn’t s-say anything to stop Dad. I only wanted them to understand. I c-couldn’t — I-I didn’t want —” He was near hysterics. He kept sabotaging his own sentences and rambling.

“Em. Emi, breathe. What are you talking about? What happened?”

“I came out.”

Patton paused. He didn’t know what to think, or what to say. He’s heard horrible coming out stories before. He never thought he'd hear one from his own brother. "How… where are you? Where's D?"

"I, I'm going to Grams. I'm walking. They — Dad kicked me out. I-I don't know where D is. He must have snuck out before I told them."

Of course. Damien always did have terrible timing. "Just — just stay with Grams, okay? I'll try to be there as soon as possible." He threw the blankets off, startling the person beside him. He needed to start looking for a plane ticket.

~~~

So Patton dropped out.

His parents were disappointed, but he didn’t tell them why when they asked. Or at least, he didn’t tell them the real reason. He made something up. He needed a break or couldn’t handle it or something along those lines — they believed him. He hated how they made him a good liar.

The real reason was for Emile.

Patton caught the soonest flight home he could find. He didn’t tell his parents. He stayed with Grams while they figured out what to do next. Damien stopped by a few times. He didn’t say it, but Patton could tell he was guilty for not being there. Damien and Emile were practically best friends. Patton sometimes joked that they were twins. With only a year separating them, it was hard not to act so similarly. But the one night Emile needed him the most, he wasn’t there.

In the end, they decided that the best thing for Emile was to get him far away. He would stay with Patton in Florida. Unfortunately, his apartment was one bedroom. But there was no way in hell he was letting that stop him. He wasn’t going to let Emile stay in this damn hick town any longer than he had to. He had half a mind to take Damien, too, but he didn’t want to risk anything.

“Will you keep an eye on Damien for me?” Patton asked before they left.

“Of course,” Grams responded with a smile. “I’m his grandmother.”

It was a little over two months later when Damien showed up at Patton’s apartment. Patton wasn’t anticipating him. Neither he nor Grams called. Still, Damien walked in as if he was expected without a word. The only thing he brought with him was his backpack and whatever was in it. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the day. Not until that night. Patton heard him talking to Emile about what happened. He made a joke about their parents not being able to lie about Patton being the favorite now.

Patton didn’t know how to feel about that.

He let them talk between themselves. He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t try to step in. He let them have their moment. When it was late in the night, he decided to check on them. They were fast asleep, curled up on the bed. The only bed. In the only bedroom.

A steady stream of air left Patton’s mouth. “We’re gonna need a bigger place,” he muttered to himself.

So he continued school at a community college — like he originally intended — made friends, started a new job, made more friends, got invited to a party once, and… a cute boy crashed into him. A cute boy with dark eyes like the night sky and faint freckles dancing along his nose.

“S-sorry.” The most gorgeous blush bloomed on his cheeks. “I suppose I didn’t see where I was going.”

Patton grinned, already knowing what he should say next.

~~~

Logan was different.

At first, Patton was planning to just have another fling, which was wrong and a bit unfair, but Logan didn’t show to have any interest in that. At all. And that was fine, of course, Patton wouldn’t force him into anything. But it was a first in a long while.

One of the earliest things he noticed was that Logan was sort of… timid. The same way a kitten is when dropped in a new place. Which is to say, suspicious of everything. Timid was a nice word for it, though. And much like a kitten, trust had to be built up slowly and over time. Patton wanted to be his friend. Except sometimes over-excited puppies and nervous kitties don’t always get along. So Patton made a conscious effort to take notes of what did and did not make Logan nervous when interacting with him.

For example, Logan didn’t like it when someone got too loud. He didn’t say anything about it, (he never did. Not about any of the things Patton noticed bothered him.) and if Patton didn’t pay half as much attention to people as he did, he probably wouldn’t have even realized it. It was a subtle thing. Whenever someone raised their voice — specifically to him — for whatever reason, he made himself smaller. He avoided their gaze. Replied non-verbally. Stayed like a coiled spring until the person diverted their attention elsewhere or relaxed.

He also didn't like being snuck up on. Patton did it once on accident and he was tense throughout the whole interaction.

Over time, Patton got better at avoiding the things Logan didn't like. He couldn't say why he was putting so much effort into this. Most people wouldn't pay as much attention or, because Logan never said anything, just ignore that their actions were harmful. But Patton wasn't doing that. He was trying. Maybe it was because Logan reminded him of someone. Or maybe it was because he saw that Logan was lonely. And maybe, somewhere deep down, Patton was lonely too.

~~~

The brothers had just moved into a new house when Logan came over to study. For as smart as Logan was, he was awful at studying. He didn't do it in a helpful way, and Patton was somewhat convinced he was doing it to torture himself. So Patton offered to help him study more constructively. At first, Logan was hesitant, but he eventually decided that doing it his way for four different classes wasn't going to cut it. Since then, they always studied together before quizzes or exams.

Emile was out at that time, going with a "friend" to the movies. Patton had a slight suspicion that there was a bit more than friendship going on, but he never mentioned it because, well, there was his own issue of giving Logan heart eyes every two seconds. He couldn't confront his brother about romantic feelings when he could barely confront his own.

Regardless, the only ones in the house were Patton, Logan, and Damien. Logan and Damien got along pretty okay for the most part. They were the same age, so they found things in common. One of the things they shared was sarcasm and wit. Their sole interactions were often a combination of the two, much to Patton's simultaneous amusement and dismay.

It wasn't much of a surprise when, seeing that Logan was over, Damien started with their banter right off the bat. Patton tried to shoo him away — studying was meant to happen — but he played the annoying younger brother card and refused to cooperate.

"If he stays he might stand to learn something," Logan quipped, taking out his notebooks. "There's only so much knowledge one can get when their sources are online conspiracy theories instead of going to class."

Damien laid across the armchair with his legs dangling. He studied his nails with interest. "Sorry, I can't hear you over the evidence of the Earth being flat."

"I'm going to pretend those words didn't come out of your mouth."

Much to Patton's surprise, Logan was able to squabble with Damien while retaining information at the same time. He could provide a counterpoint to their argument while giving Patton the definition of a genome in the same breath. It was rather impressive.

After a while, Patton started to tune out their part of the conversation. He caught snippets of things while he worked on transferring his own notes, but nothing that made him feel he had to step in. Until he noticed it. One of Logan's tells for when something is making him uncomfortable. Not wanting to make a big deal of it, Patton sighed, "D, please stop." to make it seem like he was annoyed with his brother.

But it wasn't enough. Like the spiteful booger he is, he continued. Louder. Not shouting, but enough to notice that he raised his voice. Then Logan flinched.

That was it.

"Damien," Patton snapped before he could stop himself.

Damien stopped out of pure surprise. Patton never called him by his full name.

All of the color drained out of Logan's face. He sat rigid and small, staring at the table as if it would come alive at any moment. "I should go." He shot up from the floor.

"Logan, wait —" the door was already closing before Patton could stand up. The room fell to complete silence. He looked at Logan's spot; he didn't take a single thing with him.

"I… I didn't mean to…" Damien seemed appalled by his own actions.

Patton sighed. "We'll talk about it later." He chased after Logan. He moved fast for such tiny legs. "Logan, wait a second."

"I'm going home." Logan's voice wavered with fragile confidence. A little kid who wants to be taken seriously.

"Wait —" on instinct, Patton grabbed his arm. Logan froze, looking up at him with fearful eyes. He immediately let go. "I'm sorry." He never wanted Logan to look at him like that again. "I… Please let me take you home."

Logan avoided his gaze. "I can walk."

Patton frowned. "That's a far distance to walk."

"I've ran it before," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." He made himself smaller. "I-it's fine. I can walk."

"But —"

"Patton, I really want to be alone right now."

Patton stopped. It looked like he was about to fall apart any second. "Okay. Just — please text me when you get there."

Logan nodded and went on his way.

He let out a steady stream of air through his mouth. He needed to have a talk with his brother about boundaries.

~~~

Logan had a weird relationship with touch. When they first met, Patton noticed that Logan didn't want anyone touching him at any point. But it changed over time. Slowly. It shifted to "touch me and I'll have a panic attack" to "ask first" to "if you touch me while I can't see who you are, I'm going to hit you with my textbook".

It was one of the hardest things for Patton to keep in line. He was a touchy person. He liked hugs, and cuddling, and hand-holding, and… other things. But he held it all back for Logan. (Though, if Damien and Emile got extra bone-crushing hugs, they didn't point it out.) It was even harder when they started dating, yet Patton remained in control of himself.

"He's just so cute," Patton squealed. He was squishing Emile's cheeks to express his emotions. "I just want to kiss him, and squeeze him, and hold him forever."

"Why don't you?" Emile asked as best as he could.

Patton sighed and fell back against the couch, at last releasing Emile from his hold. "I can't. He's not comfortable with that stuff yet."

"Will he ever be?"

"Maybe." He sat up. "He's been getting better at not freaking out when I ask to hold his hand."

Emile made a face. "Is there a reason he's so sensitive to that stuff?"

Patton had a pretty big suspicion of one reason, but he never brought it up. And Logan never mentioned it. So it hung in the air between them, waiting for someone to break their silence on it. "I don't know."

The wheels seemed to be turning in Emile's head, no doubt analyzing every interaction he's ever had with Logan. Before Patton could distract him with something else, he snapped himself out of it. "Oh! I have to get ready." He stood up.

"Ready for what?"

"For his date," Damien chirped in a sing-song tone as he strolled into the kitchen.

Emile's cheeks turned pink. "It's not a date."

Damien snorted.

"With who?" Patton cut in.

"It's not a —" Emile huffed, giving up that fight — "I'm going with Remy."

"Remy? Is that who you've been going on dates with already?"

"Yes — no!" His face continued to get red. “They’re not  — I’ve never —” He covered his face with his hands. "Oh my gosh."

"How is it that, out of all of us, you're the worst liar?" Damien swirled around the bottle of lemonade he took from the fridge.

"I've never needed to. I'm the baby. Everyone believes what I say."

There was no argument there. “None of us should be good liars,” Patton pointed out.

“Says the best liar,” Damien muttered before taking a long sip of lemonade.

Patton’s jaw dropped. An offended noise left his mouth. “I am — I  don’t — I am not the best liar. Emi, tell him I’m not.”

“Well…”

Patton couldn’t help but feel betrayed.

Emile gave him a sheepish smile. “Mom and Dad do still think I’m staying with Grams and that you’re going back to UF.”

Damn.

“Best liar.” Damien lifted his lemonade in a toast before going back to his room. “If anyone can keep up an act for over a year, it’s you.”

Damn.

“Woah, look at the time,” Emile glanced at his bare wrist, “I gotta get ready.” He took off toward his room.

~~~

“I’ll pick you up after work, okay?” Patton said as Logan prepared to leave the car. “Don’t even think about trying to do homework or studying or anything. Free day today.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“Logan Sanders, I am serious. You deserve a break.”

Logan paused. He turned to Patton with a small smile. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Patton watched him go. They were approaching their second year of being together. The longest relationship Patton’s ever had. He didn’t want to mess it up. He liked Logan a lot — more than a lot. Maybe it was the early relationship buzz, but he couldn’t imagine his life without Logan in it. Well, at least everything was going well so far.

Sighing, Patton drove off to work.

After completing his associate’s, he was lucky enough to find a job at one of the nearby animal hospitals. He was happy to be able to work at his dream job. Unfortunately, he had a cat allergy, so he wasn’t allowed to touch any kitties unless there was a shortage of hands. On the bright side, antihistamines existed. Still — more for the hospital’s benefit than Patton’s — he wasn’t allowed to regularly check up on cats. It was a shame. Patton loved cats.

Sometime after lunch, Patton got a call. He had an instant bad feeling enter the pit of his stomach. No one ever called his phone. Sometimes his brothers sent texts, but they never called him. Ever. When he looked at his phone, he saw it wasn’t either of his brothers at all. It was Logan. Luckily, he was between patients, so he answered the call no problem.

He hoped nothing was wrong. “Hello?” He was met with silence. Then there was a soft hiccup. Like he had been crying. “Logan? Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

Logan hung up.

Patton was already moving before he even had time to think through his actions. On his way out, he told a nearby co-worker there was an emergency that needed to be taken care of. He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t wait for questions. He just left. He needed to get to Logan.

A million different things were running through his head at once. Was he hurt? Did something happen to him? Was something happening to him right now? He knew Logan's schedule. He would be between classes at this time. That only opened up possibilities. It didn't ease any of his anxiety at all.

In fact, it increased when he got to campus and realized one thing: he had no idea where Logan was. It was a community college, so it wasn't that big, but a college campus is still a college campus. He could be anywhere. Patton had no idea where to look. There were too many places to hide or be alone — there was a chance Logan wasn't even on campus anymore. God, Patton hoped that wasn't the case. He didn't want to be too late. He couldn't.

He started running, asking a few people if they had seen someone matching Logan's description. No such luck. He must have looked crazy; some random person running around in scrubs asking for a student. But he didn't care. He had to find Logan. He wouldn't leave this damn school without him.

After an eternity, Patton found him. He was sitting in a patch of grass with a girl underneath a tree. She was talking to him, but he didn't seem up for replying. He looked like a mess.

"Logan?"

They both turned to him in alarm. He saw the girl quickly ask Logan questions (to which he nodded to), which led her to stand up and meet Patton halfway. He was kind of confused, but let it play out.

"Um, I don't really know how I should put this," she started. "I, uh, I saw your friend getting harassed earlier. By a man. I didn't recognize him, personally, but I think your friend might have." She shifted from foot to foot. "I called campus security and they said they would take care of it. I've been sitting with him since."

Patton didn’t know how to process that. Who would want to do something like that to Logan? “Thank you, uh…”

“Dahlia.”

“Dahlia,” Patton repeated with a small smile. “It was very nice of you to do those things.”

She mirrored his smile. “I’ll get out of your hair, then. I assume you can take it from here?”

“Yes. Thank you, again.”

She walked back to Logan and handed him a slip of paper. She gave him a smile, eyed Patton one last time, then left with her bag slung over her shoulder.

Patton took a seat beside him. He moved as if he didn’t want to startle a frightened animal. “You doing okay?”

“Fine.” Logan stared at the paper in his hands.

“Did you know him?”

“Just someone I met in class once.”

Patton could tell it was a lie. Logan wasn’t good at lying no matter how hard he tried to be. But Patton didn’t understand why he would need to lie about this. What was the point? He decided not to pry. “Do you want a hug?”

Logan looked up at him in surprise but hesitated to answer. “It’s alright.” He looked back down at the paper.

“I’m only going to ask again because I want a yes or no answer. If you say yes then that’s fine. If you say no, that’s okay too. I’m not inconvenienced by either. I just want you to know that you have a say in this. You shouldn't have to worry about bothering me or giving me an answer you think I want to hear. Give me an honest answer. So I’ll ask again — do you want a hug?”

Logan leaned into his side.

In response, Patton adjusted himself so that his arms could wrap around Logan. He was trembling. Neither of them said anything.

~~~

In the days following the incident, Logan seemed a little… off. Patton didn't mention it — pretended he didn't see how jumpy he had gotten. He figured Logan was still shaken up over it. And that was okay. Logan could take as long as he needed. But it didn't seem to get any better.

They were in his room when it happened. Thomas was out at work so it was just the two of them.

It was such a small thing. It shouldn't have mattered so much. Yet it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Logan tipped Patton’s cup of water over. Accidentally. He was getting off the bed and forgot it was on the floor. He was already apologizing and running to get the paper towels before Patton even realized what was happening.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he rushed out as he cleaned the mess. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Patton said softly. He didn’t understand why this was making Logan so frazzled. “Logan —”

“Please, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it.”

Patton moved to the edge of the bed. “Logan —”

“I swear it was an accident. I wouldn’t ever do this on purpose. I’m sorry. Please. I’m so sorry. I ruin everything —”

“Stop, Logan.”

Logan froze.

Patton lowered himself to the floor beside Logan. He made sure his actions could be read clearly. “Logan, honey, it’s okay. I know it was an accident. I wouldn’t ever think you did it on purpose. What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I…” His eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’m… I was… He… I-I used to be…” He sighed, turning his eyes toward the ground. “I’m a mess, aren’t I? I just screw everything up eventually. Maybe, maybe you’re better off without me.”

Patton’s blood ran cold. He was immediately hit with mean words burned on lockers, crying in the bathroom, searching and searching for someone that wasn’t there. “No!” Before he could stop himself, he grabbed Logan’s hands with his own. He just — he needed a physical reminder that Logan wouldn’t vanish. They were a little cold and wet from cleaning up the water. 

“Please don’t say that. I love being with you. You’re smart and pretty and wonderful. I like seeing your smile, I love being able to make you laugh. I enjoy spending time with you, even if we’re just sitting around doing nothing. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way you look when you’re reading, by the way.” He smiled just thinking about it. “My life has changed in the best ways since I met you. I want to keep having you in it.”

Logan stared at him. “I love you,” he blurted out.

Patton blinked in surprise. Well. That certainly was unexpected.

Realization hit Logan in an instant. He gasped and threw his hands over his mouth, his whole face turning bright red in the process. “Oh my God. I didn’t — I mean I did but —”

Patton couldn’t help but laugh. “I love you, too, bumblebee.”

Logan lowered his hands and gave him a hesitant, relieved smile.

~~~

The day Patton married Logan was the best day of his life. It was a small affair, with neither of them having very many people to invite in the first place, but it was lovely all the same. Patton sent an invitation to his parents — just as an act of goodwill — but it was sent straight back to him without a response. His mother was at least kind enough to send congratulations and “money toward making a family of your own”. It was sort of unfortunate that they wouldn’t be there, but Patton figured it was for the best. He wouldn’t want to subject Logan to his parents’ scrutiny.

But there was one member of his family (besides his brothers) that didn’t turn him down.

“Grams!” Patton pulled her into a hug. It had been so long since he last saw her. “It’s so good to see you.”

She laughed. “The feeling is mutual, my dear. Now,” she pulled herself away with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “can I finally meet this boy you’ve never been able to stop talking about?”

“I didn’t talk about him that much.”

“Sweetheart, he was in every single letter you sent me from the moment you met him.”

Oh gosh, really? That was a lot, then. “Fine, I’ll get him. Logan!” He walked around the table to drag his husband away from his debate with Damien. Huh. Husband. He liked the sound of that. “Logan, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Rosie Picani.” She stuck her hand out before Patton could open his mouth again. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.” Logan shook her hand. “Patton’s told me so much about you.”

“Oh, I’m glad to know it went both ways.”

“Stop.” Patton hid his face in his hands. “Oh my gosh.”

"If you don't mind me asking," she directed to Logan after smirking at Patton. "Where is your family?"

Logan grinned. A proper, genuine grin. "Right over there." He motioned to the table where Thomas and his friends were sitting. They were all engaged in an animated conversation, oblivious to the discussion about them. "I grew up with nearly everyone at that table."

Grams smiled. The corner of her eyes crinkled. "What a wonderful family."

Logan's broad grin turned to a shy and bashful smile. "Thank you."

~~~

Patton typically got home at around five o’clock. Sometimes later. Sometimes earlier. It depended on the day. Five o’clock was just the average. Usually, at that time things were settled down in the house. The twins would be in their room playing a game, and Logan would be grading papers or getting started on dinner. Except today, apparently.

When Patton walked through the door, he was greeted with… a sight. Logan had Roman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and Virgil under his arm like a very disgruntled cat. The living room looked as if someone turned it upside down and shook it.

“Oh, Patton,” Logan said, out of breath. The twins squirmed in his arms. “How was work?”

“It was good,” he responded slowly. “Tried to tell a woman her dog was overweight and she insisted he wasn’t even though he looked like a sausage. You know how it is. Uh, what, um, what went down here? If I may ask?”

“Well —”

“It was Virgil’s fault,” Roman interjected loudly.

“What? No, it wasn’t!” Virgil tried to get out of Logan’s grip. “Roman ruined my project.”

“I did not! It was already ruined before I got there. You’re the one that ruined my project.” He wriggled around.

“Because you did it first!”

They started yelling over each other and tried to break free.

“Okay! Stop, both of you,” Logan snapped. “It happened. Fighting over who did what and when isn’t going to change that. Will it make you feel better if I help both of you recreate your projects exactly how they were?”

“Yes,” they answered grumpily.

“Great.” He set them down. “If you two start fighting again I’m going to find a room far away and throw you both in it and take the key with me. Now go get your projects.”

They raced each other to their room.

“So it was an eventful day?” Patton opened his arms up for a hug. They had been together long enough that he didn’t have to use his words to ask permission. That’s not to say that he stopped asking — he always asked. He just did it a silent way.

“You have no idea,” Logan sighed. He collapsed in Patton’s arms as if he had been waiting for it all day. “Work always gets hectic at the end of the school year. And then the twins started fighting almost as soon as we got home.”

Patton rubbed his back. “Hm. I’ll handle dinner today, then — and cleaning up the living room. You just worry about helping the boys.” He paused. “The project is due tomorrow, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll make breakfast, too.”

Later that night, long after Patton got ready for bed, he poked his head into the living room to see how his three favorite boys were doing. They were fast asleep, two completed projects in front of them. Logan had his back against the couch with Roman and Virgil’s heads in his lap. Roman still had an open glue stick in his hand.

Patton smiled. He was going to have to wake them up so they could sleep in their beds, but at this second, he just took in the sight. He loved them all so much. He always hoped to have a family like this one day. And here it was. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

~~~

Patton sat at the edge of the tub, messing with the ring on his finger. He ran out of tears a while ago, and yet it still felt like a new round could begin any second. 

The house was so silent. It hadn’t been that way in years. Some days he begged for it to be quiet again. Right now he wanted nothing more than the noise. He wanted to hear Roman and Virgil teasing each other or running around playing a game. He wanted to hear the Doctor Who theme from the living room or Logan berating the twins. But they weren’t here.

He sighed and put his face in his hands.

He messed up.

[justauthoring]

Oh! I'm so glad GOT requests are open, because I'm CRAVING Jamie content! Could I request a JamiexStark!Reader where she's the eldest daughter of Ned (older than Robb) and gets married to Jamie, but when Ned is betrayed she gets arrested too, cuz she also knows the truth about Joffrey and his siblings. Jamie doesn't go to see her for like 6 months and when he does he sees she's been pregnant with his kid all this time. Ah, the ANGST

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Word Count:1,580

THE ABSENCE OF CONCERN

You’d watched as he’d done nothing. 

You’d pleaded and cried and screamed. They’d grabbed you by your arms and without a care for you or your well being, dragged you through the halls of your own home. Pulled you from your very own husband who had just stood there and watched.

And when all was done, when all had happened, when your tears were dried to stains on your cheeks and your struggles had seized, they’d told you you’d been arrested for treason. For treason against your king, Joffrey. That you had acted against your King and as a result, you would be put on trial along side your father.

It was a lie. All of it. Your father had been tricked and betrayed and as a result, you had paid the price along side him. You only hoped that your younger sisters were okay, that they hadn’t fallen blame to an unjustified arrest and betrayal.

But, as you were led lower and lower through the castle, leading you to what you could only assume was the dungeons, all that flooded your mind was the image of Jaime. Of your husband standing there, doing nothing as they pulled you, his wife, away from him without any reason or explanation. He’d done nothing. And while you weren’t unaware of the strain between your family and his, you’d thought, in your short time married, that he had loved you.

You truly believed he did. And that’s what hurt the most, was knowing that he didn’t, he never had and you’d been a fool.

By the time you reached the dungeons and stood in front of what you assumed your cage was, you simply hung in their arms. You heard the sound of the lock unlock and the screech of the metal cage door swing open, before you were carelessly tossed inside. You landed on your hands and knees, a huff of exhausted pouring from your lips in response.

And for a moment, it was silent. Then, you heard the faintest sound of breathing and your name leave another’s lips. It was your father’s.

“Father?” You croaked, trying to peer through the darkness of the cell. When you saw the faintest outline of his figure, you picked yourself up to your feet and made your way, unsteadily, over to him. The sight was almost enough to bring you to tears all over again and you fell to your knees before him with a sob.

“Come here,” Ned whispered, his voice gruff. He shifted his body in a way that made it easy for you to fall against him, and as you did, you let your head rest in the crook between his head and shoulder, curling into him. His warmth was one you’d missed, even if for a while things had been going well. You were the eldest child of Ned and Catelyn Stark, and as a result, your father often leaned upon you for help. You were an adult yourself, and very often the responsibility of your younger siblings fell on your shoulders.

But what your father had uncovered during his time as the King’s hand hadn’t gone past you either. You imagined that’s why you’d been arrested, because you knew what he did.

“I never meant for you to become involved,” Ned whispers a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I never meant to put any of you in danger. I…”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, softly interrupting your father in hopes of reassuring him of the guilt he’s placed upon his shoulders. “It isn’t your fault.” Ned doesn’t respond, but he keeps close to you, and there’s no part of you that wants to leave him either. The fear of what may come wouldn’t leave your mind and you wondered what was left of your future.

And then, as silence echoes, you can’t help but whisper;

“I’m pregnant.”

-

Months had passed since you’d been arrested. Your father had died as a result of Joffrey, having been beheaded. Your sisters… well, you had no idea. You’d spent those past months locked up in the very same cell they’d thrown you in that day and you hadn’t left since.

Your trial, unlike your father’s, never came. It seemed the Lannister’s didn’t know what to do with you so they left you to rot in a cell by yourself. You never saw anyone other then when you were fed and you hadn’t seen sunlight in months. Completely isolated you were, quite literally left to rot away or until they finally decided what to do with you.

Today was no different than any other day. You sat there, left to your own mad thoughts as you cradled your belly. Like you’d told your father that day, in nothing more than a hushed whisper, you were pregnant. Your captors didn’t seem all that concerned and simply gave you enough to sustain you. After all, you were carrying a Lannister child.

The sound of keys jingling catches your attention. It surprises you beyond belief as this wasn’t your normal feeding time, and as your head lightly tilted to the right, you’re not sure who you expect to walk through those doors. Whoever they are, they’re hidden in the shadows at that moment and you don’t have the strength to crawl any closer to see for yourself. You simply wait, as that’s all you can do. Part you expects them to be guards, for whatever reason.

But as the figure steps closer and the light shines on their face, it’s one you haven’t seen in months. One that’s haunted you since the day you’d been arrested, staring blankly back at you as you were pulled away from his grasp kicking and screaming.

It’s the man you never expected to see again.

Jaime stares back at you, and you watch as his lips part ever-so-slightly, his eyes wandering across your figure. You can only imagine what runs through his head. The last time he’d seen you, you had washed hair and clean clothes. The last time he’d seen you, you had a flat stomach. 

By the look on his face, you assumed he hadn’t been told that his wife was pregnant.

“I…” His words stop at that, trailing off as his shoulders slump. He’s in the same armour you remember him being in. Gold plated armour but, one thing that is different, his right hand is replaced by a gold one.

“You’ve lost your hand.” Your voice is croaked, weak, barely audible. It’s been months since you’ve spoke, your throat hurts just at four simple words. But all the same, you know Jaime’s heard you.

His head tilts down, eyes falling on the hand you refer to. “It’s a long story.”

“One I don’t care to hear.”

Jaime shuffles at that, his Adam’s apple bobbing in nerves as he registers the harshness of his voice. Still, his muscles tensing, he decides to speak. “I didn’t know you… I hadn’t known you were with child.”

There it is.

“Would it have changed anything had you?”

It’s clear what you mean. Jaime doesn’t have to ask to clarify.

“Y/N,” You haven’t heard your name leave another’s lips, let alone Jaime’s, in forever. It almost felt foreign. As if that name was truly not your name. Sometimes, you forgot who you were, having spent all this time by yourself in a dirty, dark cell. “That day… there was nothing I could–”

“You didn’t do anything,” you cut off, finally turning your head to meet his eyes. Your gaze is cold, emotionless. You’re almost unrecognizable. It chills Jaime to the bone as he’s faced with what he’s done, with his wife who he failed. “You stood there and watched… you did nothing.”

“I tried,” Jaime squeaks, “I tried to talk sense into Cersei and I tried to–”

“You still haven’t answered my question.” you interrupt once, shoulders falling. “If you’d known I was with child, would it have changed anything? Does it change anything?”

Jaime’s lips part. “I… I don’t know how to help.”

“Did you love me?” You ask, voice cracking as you feel your eyes water. 

“Yes–”

“Do you still love me?”

“I…” He hesitates, swallowing thickly. “Yes. I never stopped.”

“Then,” you begin, placing your hands on either side of you, pushing yourself upwards. It’s with great strain, gasps leaving your lips as you wobble on your feet before your husband. Once you’re steady, you turn to him, your gaze serious. “Get me out of here.”

Jaime blinks back at you, stunned.

“If you ever loved me, love me like you say you do, then…” You take a step forward, wobbling and weakly, your hand gripping the wall of the cell next to you tightly. “Get me out of here. Get us out of here.”

Jaime continues to stare blankly back at you, his expression unreadable. You continue to shakily make your way over to him, and the moment you have, you reach forward, grabbing him by the wrist. The touch of another almost brings tears to your eyes and you let out a sob as you set his hand against your belly.

“For your child.”

There’s a moment of stilled silence. Jaime stares down at you, not pulling his hand away but not doing much of anything else either. And then, finally, finally, he shifts his hand, moving so it’s on the curve of your stomach and he closes the distance before you.

“Okay.”