#done it to andrew at least twice

[afurtivecake]

Sometimes I forget how many fights Kevin gets into because a) his violence is massively overshadowed by incidents of murder and torture and b) at any given moment, he's either having a panic attack or playing exy.

This isn't even all of the instances Kevin starts fights. Like yes, he is the Queen, the First Princess, of exy and yes, he does have every single person he knows ready to fight for his honour, but that doesn't stop him from doing it himself.

[abbeym28]

Clarisse x Reader - This is a Life

Clarisse x gn! reader

Reader is from the Aphrodite cabin, but only for the plot!

An- Around 3.3k words, sorry it took so long to get out! Hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know if I should write something that kind of does more of a deep dive into this, because I feel like something is missing or something

Warnings- Weapons, fake dating, blood at one point, affection, petnames, guy named Andrew (apologies to any one named Andrew), Aphrodite is a pretty okay mom in this. Pls tell me if I missed anything!

Everybody in camp recognized you as the favored child of Aphrodite. People looked twice when you walked by, flowers bloomed in your direction, and mirrors wished they could reflect you.

Clarisse is the favored daughter of her dad, Ares. People feared her, flowers looked away as she passed, and only a select few could stand to be close to her.

But even those who were close kept a great distance.

That was what was similar between the favorite Aphrodite kid and the favorite Ares daughter.

But even that was comparable, for she was a daughter, and a daughter could never compare to a son in her fathers eyes, whilst your mother seems to love you unconditionally.

You and Clarisse weren't close by any means, but you had always caught each other's attention on some level.

For you, it was how she sparred. Muscles flexing, covered in sweat, and a wild and free grin spread across across. You could find beauty in her that was no wheres else in the camp.

For her, it was the way you held yourself and how you were with young campers. Your slight confidence, the care you have for each camper, and the way you treat others. It was admirable, considering the way that Clarisse was probably the opposite of you.

“-risse, Clarisse, Clarisse!” Clarisse brook out of the slight stupor she was in and looked across the table where her sibling was calling her name and waving his hand around. “Oh, thank the gods. I about almost called over an Apollo kid to check on you.” She rolled her eyes as he laughed a bit.

They were in the dining hall, for it was lunch. Her plate was still quit full as she looked down at it. She was hungry, but she felt as if there was something preventing her from eating.

“Hey, would you look at that.” Her brother was looking past, his eyes holding questions. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and scoffed. There you were, holding your tray and standing talking to Percy Jackson, who was sitting alone at his Poseidon camp table.

That Capture the flag game happened a while ago now, but it was still upsetting how many people still like that kid, even after what he did, although it makes sense with all of the things he has done.

Her grip on her fork tightened, and she glared hard in your direction. Her brother snorted. “You really like them, huh?” She whipped her head back to look at him.

“What? Who?” She softened just slightly after he said your name. “Where did you get that idea?”

“The way you two look at each other. There's a rumor going around that you two are secretly dating each other, but we all know that you would never.”

“Never what?”

“Date anyone. Especially them.” She scoffed again.

“What do you mean?”

“You're not… an emotional person. Everyone knows you couldn't even make a relationship actually work.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine then.” She slammed her hands against the table and got up, making her way over to you. Percy noticed her first and scrambled to sit up straighter and to not smile. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he nodded his head in Clarisse’s direction and you laughed a little.

“Hey Claris-” you lifted one of your hands up to wave, but once she was close enough she took that hand in hers and then wrapped her other arm around your waist, pulling you towards her in a kiss.

The whole camp seemed to go quiet, and while it wasn't the most emotional kiss, Clarisse was very passionate in how she was kissing you, it was overwhelming to say the least. Your tray dropped, spilling food all over the ground and making a loud crash. Your hand found its way to the back of her neck and you gently tugged on her curls and twirled some of the baby hairs at her nape around your fingers. She broke off the kiss, looking you right in your eyes as you were flustered and tried to reclaim your breath.

“Um, what the-'' Percy began, but before anything else was said Clarisse tugged on your hand and ran towards the forest with you.

“Clarisse, what was that a-”

“Date me.” She blurted out the words before her mind could tell her to not to.

“What- this is super out of the blue, even for you Clarisse!” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“We can fake dates then. Just for a few months or so.”

“How is that even relevant?!?!”

“If we fake date, then none of it will be real. And then, I get to prove something, and you…well,  I can make sure people dont bother you.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

“But why?” Clarrise sighed deeply and your eyebrows furrowed more.

“Look, people already think we are dating, my sibling thinks I could never be in a relationship, and I don't hate you. Much.” She then looked you up and down in a way that almost made you wish that you were invisible.

“Now, how well can you act?”

The shock of the century happened at camp Half Blood the next morning at breakfast when Clarrise showed up with you attached to her arm. Jaws were on the floor and every table was turned towards your direction.

Clarisse had a proud smirk on her face as she survived the dining hall. Some part of you also felt weirdly proud as well, as if having your arm intertwined with hers was the reason you were at this camp anyway.

She moved you in the direction of the Ares table, an arrangement the two of you had settled on while setting up rules and guidelines. You would sit with her at her table, at least come to most of her training sessions and sit next to her at the bonfires. She would visit the strawberry fields and lake with you, join the craft classes you have with young campers, and on occasions, she would allow you to place a kiss on her while wearing lipstick or lip gloss, making sure to leave a mark.

You both also agreed on minimal kissing, which was a shame since she was a good kisser. Any other types of touches were pretty much guaranteed if the two of you were near each other.

“Goodmorning.” Clarisse greeted the rest of the table, untangling her arm from yours before setting her tray on the table and then sitting down. You did the same, and in an instant, Clarrise wrapped her arm around your waist, situating her hand on your stomach comfortably. You scratched a bit closer to her so your thighs were touching.

A chorus of morning greetings left various peoples mouths and Clarisse hummed a bit. She reached for a bag of apple slices and ripped open the small bag with the help of her teeth. You giggled a bit and nudged her side.

“Honey, that was kind of weird. You know you could've just let go of me, right?” She stared into your eyes mischtifully.

“You lost me at let go.”

It took everything in you to not burst out laughing as a few people around you literally gagged. She winked at you and you grinned at her before the two of you each turned back to your breakfast.

Your chin sat on both of your palms as you sat in the stands right outside of the training grounds, watching as Clarisse took on another camper in a dual. Capture the flag was coming up in about a week, but despite that, many people have come up to you asking if the news that had spread around camp was true.

“Hey, babe, did you see that?” Clarisse was jogging over to you, a smile on her lips. You smiled back at her and once she was close enough moved to stand between your legs, her hands trailed up your thighs lightly before they landed on your waist. You tried your best to ignore the shiver that went through your body.

“I missed it. I’m sorry hun.” You put one of your hands on her shoulder while you fiddled with one of her strands of curls with the other. She let out a breathe, and you could almost swear she was pouting.

She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching your ear. “You're doing good, yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” you whispered back. She moved a little bit back and smirked.

“Good. You keep doin’ that, 'kay sweetheart?” she patted your thigh twice before turning and running back to her training. Your heart skipped one to many times during that interaction.

Please Mother, let me survive this.

The next week and a half went pretty much like that, with you and Clarisse glued to each other's sides for the entirety of the day. She was even somehow able to convince Chiron to put the Aphrodite cabin on the red team.

You were with Clarisse now, getting ready for the capture the flag game. Your armor sat heavily on your shoulders as you did your best to fix all of the straps while following your “girlfriend” and listening to her bark out orders and plans.

Some of your siblings were grouped together all complaining about how much stuff they had to do compared to when they were on the blue team, but you knew that some of them were grateful that Clarisse knew that they were capable to do things that the other cabins could do.

Clarisse looked behind her where you were still struggling with your armor. She sighed and moved closer to you. She carefully took your hand in hers and then tighten your straps so that way it was secure. You watch her face the whole time, finding the way she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration to be quite cute.

“There. You ready to do this?” She looked up, pausing when her eyes met your. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before your eyes flickered to the ground, or at least any wear that wasn't her face.

“Yeah, I am. What did you want me to do again?” She huffed out a laugh and then moved past you.

“All you need to do sweetheart is to follow me.”

Even though you were out of breath, you continued to follow your fake girlfriends footsteps.

Well, it wasn't like you had much of a choice with how tightly she was holding your hand and tugging you along paths.

Out of nowhere, a group of people from the blue team jumped out of the trees and began to attack. Clarisse let go of your hand and brought out her spear, running forward and taking on two people at once.

You took out your provided sword and prayed that your trainings with Clarisse would pay off. Your sword clashed with the sword of a boy from the Hermes cabin, and you recognized him as a guy named Andrew, someone who used to follow you around and flirt with you before you and Clarisse became a temporary item.

“I’ve been wondering if I could even get you alone.” Andrew backed you away from the rest of the group and more into the trees.

“I have a girlfriend, Andrew.” You made sure your voice was stable and hard. You hoped you could get your point across to him, but this is the guy who couldn't take a hint from you before, so it was evident that he wasn't going to start now.

“Come on, everyone knows that you like me. We can tell that Clarisse pressured you into the relationship. The two of you weren't meant to be.” You tripped over a root, sending you falling, hitting the ground hard and hurting your back in the process.

“Me and you were meant to be together. Couldn't you see that I was flirting with you? ‘Cause I could see that you returned the feelings with how you flirted with me.” Your eyes flickered for any type of escape from his anger and jealousy, but there was no safe way out with how he was practically sitting on your stomach. It made you sick with how close his face was to yours.

“Well,” you carefully moved your hand to twirl a longer strand of his hair between your fingers. It was straight, especially compared to Clarisse’s. You tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and you tried to push away the urge to gag. If using the charm you had gotten from your mother would get you out of this, then so be it. “I had no idea you felt like that, sweety. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Charmspeak wasn't against the rules. After all, this was the gift that was given to you from your godly parents.

You watched as his eyes followed your hand as you began to softly caress his face.

This has to be one of the most disgusting things you have ever done.

“So you do like me! I knew th-” Andrew stopped his sentence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he flopped off of you to the side. You jumped up, finding yourself in front of your savior.

“Clarisse! You knocked him out! Is that even aloud?!” Clarisse laughed and poked Andrew with the none sharp end of her spear.

“He deserved it. Easiest decision of my li…” you stopped trying to wipe off all of the dirt that had resided on your clothes to raise your eyebrow at her Clarisse.

She was staring at you, her mouth slightly open and an almost entranced look in her eyes.

Was there dirt on your face? Did you somehow use your charmspeak on her?

“Um, Clarisse, maybe we should-'' Before you could finish your sentence, Clarisse had brought her left hand up and gently slid her thumb over your cheek bone.

You guessed that you had gotten a small cut there, and from the small flash of red that appeared and her thumb, you guessed that you were right. She moved it away a bit, and then she pushed back a strand of hair that had begun to obstruct your vision. She kept her hand there then, and you brought up your hand to touch her wrist, a grounding move for you were starting to feel light headed. You stared into eachothers eyes, and what broke you apart was the flinching sound of the games ending conch shell horn.

The blue team had won, another year in a row.

Clarisse sighed and ended the contact, moving away and bending down to pick up your discarded sword. She put it in your hands.

“You weren’t too bad out there. And, you, huh, you looked, um pretty good too.” She nodded, cleared her throat and turned away from you, heading back down the trail, but not before using her foot to push Andrew out of the way more.

For some reason, that was the moment you finally realized how in love you were with your fake girlfriend.

That night, your mother appeared in your dreams for the first time. Sitting on the wood pierre that was feet above the water, with moon light reflected off the liquid, Aphrodite appeared in front of you. With curly brown hair and brown eyes, and that tanned skin that you could swear you had begun to memorize, your mom looked different from what you expected.

“I appear as what you are attracted to,” Aphrodite nudged your shoulder from where she sat beside you. She seemed to respond to what you were thinking. “For you, that's that girlfriend of yours.”

“Fake girlfriend. We aren't really dating.” Aphrodite laughed in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster. That laugh belonged to someone who now had your heart.

“Could… could you switch to look like someone else? This is kind of unnerving to me.” She laughed again and shook her head.

“I can't be here for long, my child.” She change the subject.

“Then why are you here?”

“You're in love somehow. I know that you probably wouldn't tell her without some sort of push.”

You stared at her. She was practically glowing, the sear fabric that was draped on her body floating.

“Hearts aren't meant to hurt, hunny. If you distance yourself, or try to break away from her and move on, then two hearts will get hurt.”

Silence fell over the two of you, just for a moment.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Am I… am I really your favorite? I mean, other people say that, but you've never given me a gift, and I haven't been on a quest, and this is the first time I've even met you. I just-”

“There are many of you, and I have love for each of you and your siblings. But yes, it could be said that I am very proud of you, and what you have accomplished.” Tears started to fill your eyes, though you weren't sure exactly why you were crying.

“Goodbye, my dear.” She softly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And with that, your mother was gone once again.

Tears were running down your face once you woke up.

You moved off your blankets and got up moving towards the cabin's front doors. It was almost pitch black, and it was easy to tell that it was still night. Maybe just sitting out on the porch and thinking would do you some good.

But right when you were a few steps away, the door started to crack open.

Your mind jumped to many conclusions, like there was a ghost or one of your siblings had stayed out late with their partner. Then you caught sight of the hand that was pushing on the wood.

It was the same hand that has intertwined with yours, the same hand that had held onto your body all week. The same hand that you had seen wielding a sword for years.

“Clarisse?” The door stopped opening, and then Clarisse poked her head through the opening.

She whispered your name back, and you took note about how this was the most sheepish you had ever witnessed her to be. She backed up, and you went out of your cabin to join her.

“Hey.” she whispered.

“Hi.” you whispered back. “What's wrong?” You could swear that her hand twitched in the slightest, like she was about to reach out and hold yours but thought better.

“I, um, had a nightmare. You were the only place I could think to go to. It’s fine now though, so you should go back inside and get your beauty sleep.” She turned away from you, starting to go down the steps back to her cabin.

“Do you like me?” She stood still on the second step down. You walked towards her slowly, and you started to wish you had brought a blanket out with you. The night chill was starting to get to you, and you were starting to wish that you had that type of safe feeling.

“My, um, my mother visited my dreams tonight. And we talked, and I know that we havent really been dating, but i kike you Clarisse, and I kind of hoped, only if you want, if we could kind of be offic-”

A pair of lips crashed into yours before anything else happened. The passion from the first kiss that the two of you had shared was there still, but this time something felt so much more real.

You felt so many emotions, and so did Clarisse, and you knew that she was trying to convey them all to you like this.

Both of her hands were on your face, each one gently holding your cheeks so you could stay in place. Your hands were on her wrists, but you moved them to the back of her neck where you gently tugged on her curls. You smiled into the kiss.

Her hair would always be your favorite.

Clarisse pulled away from the kiss, and laughed when she saw your eyes were still closed. You glared at her a little, but your smile was still present on your face.

“I do.” Clarisse said. You hummed and tilted your head in confusion. Clarisse laughed again a bit.

“I do like you.” Somehow your smile got even bigger.

“So we can kiss anytime now?”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Safe Keeping | 4

Part 1 2 3 4 5

"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 8k+ | cw: fem!reader, DEATH of characters/animals/monsters, POV shifts, mentions/depictions of violence, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional constipation, miscommunication, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny/violence, themes/mentions of menstruation/pregnancy/miscarriage, baby fever, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ❗❗please proceed this chapter with caution. i killed a bunch of characters/animals (well and monsters but i think deserve lmao)!!! ALSO POV SHIFTSS!!!! originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here. also fyi i post this story on ao3 first

Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @j3nn-1

The Hound found himself wrong about the thieving, wrong about the missing livestock. He was so wrong it nearly cost him lives, including his own.

He was so sure about himself when he went into the woods, so sure that he was going to find at least two men, at most five, luring sheep there. It was the men he was prepared for. Fuck the livestock, the farmers can get them back after he killed the fucks stealing them.

Ah, the farmers, barging into his wife's estate... into their house, into house Clegane. 

Fuck 'em, fuck the lot of them, complaining again, complaining about their sheep and their cows. He had enough of their yapping, now was the time to act.

Fuck 'em twice for being shocked when he said he'd go into the forest to kill the fucker causing all of them trouble.

The superstitious peasants warned him. The Hound heard; he even humored them by letting a few spring chickens, boy-soldiers in the making, 'aid' him as he went to the forest.

Between the young farmer's lad, Andrew, and the man-boy, Carter, who he had been training be a soldier, it was actually the Hound who was the one most frightened by that thing that stared back at them.

It looked as though it was twice his damn size. It was darker than tar, and stinkier than shit. It made an unholy sound before attacking them.

He doesn't remember what happened after that in all honesty. His instincts kicked in and he can't recall what he had done. All he knew was, in the end, the two boys were cheering and dragging a black corpse all the way back out of the woods.

The villagers looked at him. They walked towards him and shouted. It was not an unfamiliar greeting-- being pursued by villagers, and yet, it shakes him; it takes him off-guard. They come upon him and begin to weep at his feet. They thank him. They thank them as they hug each other. The thank him as they wave at him. They thank him as they touch his armor like a devout would touch an idol.

The Hound is perturbed.

"Thank you, milord! You killed the beast!"

"You saved our sheep!"

"You saved our families!"

"You saved our lives!"

The Hound was never one to back down, but Sandor found himself taking steps back when a group of children ran up to him and began to ask him how he killed it. Their little hands and big eyes demanded answers from him. His insides rise up to his mouth.

The children begin to talk about how they can go to the woods now.

"Oi!" Carter calls to the ones in front the Sandor, "you do know there's more than one woodland monsters, aye?!"

"But now milord Cligay killed one! He'll teach us how to kill the o'vers."

"It's Clegane. Lord Clegane! And even then, you buggers can't just play in the forest. The brown bears still live here."

"I haven't seen a brown bear!" a little girl cries out. She looks to the Hound, walking up to him, grabbing his hand, "there aren't any brown bears in the woods, right, milord?"

Sandor looks at the small thing. His hand burns at her touch. Her hand was not even hot, not even big enough to grasp half his palm and yet he feels lightheaded. He feels like he's going to pass out.

The Hound finds their sentiment to be all too much at one point. He grumbles he's going home; he's got much work to do. The villagers thank him as he leaves.

When he gets home, just as he gets near the gate, he beholds Lady Clegane, the people's champion, his poor bride. She is outside, speaking to some peasants; it was all she did as of late.

A breeze blows and her dress dances with the wind. Her hair follows as well, and along goes the air from his lungs.

She is the sun. He is a mountain trying to reach her.

Sandor, who hadn't realized that he stopped in his place to gawk, is shaken out of his trance when the stable boy opened the gates for him. The small child named Polly, about as old as his wife when she fled this place, nods at him and motions, "pardon, milord," he says nervously, "I didn't know you were waiting for me to open the gates."

The Hound looks at the boy as he walks in, "I wasn't," he gruffs, eyeing him as he passed, "don't worry about it, laddie."

Lord Clegane looks away from the stable boy when he hears the shrill cry of a babe. He spots the maester walking over to his wife with a wailing child in his arms.

He thinks about the letter he had to write to the Citadel, requesting a maester come to Brown Wood.

Lady Clegane thinks her husband's initiative for it stems from his sense of duty as a Lord, but she'll never know he did it for her, for her to know if she really did have a late blood cycle, or if she lost a baby. Maester Yannick told him it was, regretfully, the latter.

The Hound waited for his lady wife to tell him about it, to ask him to hold a mourning ceremony for the unborn child. She never did.

Sandor watches Lady Clegane willingly embraces the woman who thanked her up and down, over and under, for saving her baby. She tells the weeping woman that it was not her work but maester Yannick that saved the babe. Maester Yannick says it was not his work but the gods.

Sandor tastes something putrid in his mouth when his wife coos at the child, who immediately calmed when the maester reunited the small thing to mama. His insides tingle at the sound of his lady's laugh.

He curses under his breath when she turns to him. He realizes then he had stopped in his tracks again.

The Hound begins his march.

Lady Clegane greets him, but he is not strong enough to reply with a greeting himself. He doesn't know why he stops to tell her that he killed a woodland monsters though. She looked very shocked after hearing that.

He wonders if she was disappointed. He wonders if she wanted him dead.

She touches him and questions if he was injured. Sandor flinches and steps back. She recoils her hand quickly and wipes it on her skirt-- disgusted.

The Hound says she shouldn't worry her pretty squirrel head, then walks away.

His footsteps are heavy as he heads to his office. He didn't want to go through the fucking endless piles of paperwork, but the apprentice he had couldn't grasp basic mathematics quite yet, so, there he went, to go through paperwork in a musty office.

He wonders if doing this shit made a difference to her, or if she'd always see him for what he was: a groom, forced upon her as a joke from a stupid blonde boy; a beast with ill features and temper; a Hound.

He is almost tempted to look over his shoulder at the loud sound of baby's laughter. He doesn't, cause he wouldn't see anything but a wall of he did anyway.

He wonders when she'd ask him again, when she'd ask for a child from him.

He promises he'd be gentler this time, gentler.

He doesn't mean to be so rabid with her.

She just had such an ablaze spirit, she was so fierce, and so vivid that he found himself wanting to devour her whole-- a true predator.

He wishes he could be more than that. He could be more than that to her, but it's so hard to fill in to be someone you're not. The Hound was not a proper lord, he was not that pretty boy Alistair. He can only do so much.

Sandor would do much and more for her than that scrawny, faerie pretty-boy ever could.

She might not like it, but he'll do his best to give her what she wants, to give her a family in stead of the one she lost. She will never love him, but he knows she'll love all the children he could give her, and that was more than enough, more than he could ever hope for or deserve. 

I carefully walk up to the office, clutching my hands together as I prepare myself to knock on the door.

I clear my throat and retell myself what I mean to tell my husband. My palms begin to gush like geyser. I dread the fight I know will be had because of this topic.

I let out a soft gasp when someone calls me from behind.

It was the stable boy, Polly. He had run up to bow and greet me good morning. I smile at him and reach out to him. I brush his hair back, "good morrow, Polly, dear."

The boy grins and bows again, "I'll be learning how to ride a horse soon, milady!"

I link my hands together as I chuckle, "my! Will you now? How awfully courageous of you."

The boy pushes his shoulders back, "it's no'ffin, milady. Just what a man ought to do. I would go to war for you, milady, I would!"

"My boy," shake my head, "I pray you never need to do such a thing. I hope you enjoy riding though. I find that I do not."

"Do you find riding scary? I wouldn't! I'll let you ride with me once I know how, promise," the boy nods as he places a hand on his chest.

"You are very kind," I smile, "I thank you for it, Polly."

The boy puffs his chest out and bows, "I'll be goin' then, milady!"

I chuckle as I watch Polly run off as quick as a rabbit.

My soul nearly leaves me when I turn around and see the Hound looming over me.

I gasp and step back. He reaches out to me and grabs my arm. He keeps me upright and leans down, "you better stop calling the boy dear." He releases me and begins to walk off, "he's already in love with you as is."

I blink rapidly at his words. I turn to him and watch him march away before scurrying after, "he's a child."

"Aye," says Sandor, "all the children adore you."

My stomach curdles at his words; I am unsure why. I rub my hands together, not sure what to make of myself, or what to reply.

"What were you doing outside my office?" he asks.

I run up in front of him and grab his arm, "there is something I needed to discuss with you."

Sandor stops. He looks at my hand on his arm, "can't it wait?"

I pull my hand away and shake my head, "I understand that you are very busy, my lord, but I-"

"Fine," he mutters, "I'll lay with you tonight."

My eyes widen and I topple back at his words, "what?"

The Hound steps forward, keeping me upright again, "that's why you're here, aren't you?" He releases me, "your bloods have waned."

I feel my face burn. I gulp and force a smile, "I-" I chuckle nervously and straighten up, "y-yes. My bloods have waned."

Sandor watches me closely.

I rub my neck and blink rapidly, "I thank you for your thoughtfulness," I dig my thumb nail into my pointer finger. I turn from my feet then to Sandor, "but that is not what I wished to speak about."

His face falls. It's not anything noticeable but I have become quite good at it, reading his face. He purses his lips then says, "be done with it then, I've got work to do, pretty squirrel."

I feel my face burn even more at his horrible nickname.

A group of women had been complimenting my dress when the Hound passed. I knew they did not know he would react that way, but it did not help the embarrassment I felt when the women asked my husband if he thought my dress suited me and he replied 'pretty for a squirrel'.

"I wanted to tell you that I... I still very much wish to be the one to speak to the people about their concerns," I am unable to look at him when I say this, "it is not because I think you are unfit for the task, my lord, but I have seen the way you act around them."

"Like a dog?"

I knit my brows deeply and look to him, "Daisy is a dog. And I love her very much."

"That makes one of us."

We stare at each other for a long, blistering moment. My throat constricts at his words, "... Sandor."

His face contorts. He scoffs and averts his gaze, "don't say my name like that."

My heart begins to race, it twists and clenches. I step forward and reach out to him, "I see how you try to listen, how you try to help, but it scares you-"

I gasp when he rips his arm away before I can even touch him. He grabs me instead though, ripping me close as he leans down, "I'm not scared of peasants."

My eyes water. It's not even because his grip hurt, but because it was as painfully clear as it could get that this man did not like me at all, no matter what I did.

The Hound mutters softly, "do what you wish," he releases my arm, "you want to do my work so badly then? Fine. I didn't want ya to do anything you're not meant to, but have it your way."

I scratch my eyes before my tears could fall. I try to look at him as I speak, but the tears threaten to fall when I do. Instead, I fix my eyes on the floor, "I do not do this to upset you, Hound. I do this because I mean to help you. I swear it."

He is deeply disturbed by the softness in which these words are spoken. Hearing himself be called Hound was unreasonably heart piercing.

"I do not like it when you are angry," I whisper, "it would have been fine if it was only directed at me, but you spur everyone around you."

I flinch when he calls my name.

I shake my head, "if it pleases you, lord, I will do as you said the other day. I will no longer speak to you. I will not bother you. I will not stand in your way." I step back and pick at my fingernails.

Sandor holds back from stepping forward.

"Maester Yannick has been giving me herbs to help with conception, but he said that I should be in good spirits when... consummating... I do not think we should do anything tonight--" I look to him through my wet lashes, "unless you want to--"

"No, I do not," he says coldly.

I gulp. Tears begin to stream down my face. My lips quiver. I shudder. Of course he doesn't want me.

I curtsy and walk off. I break into a sprint after a few steps, as I am no longer able to hold in my sobs.

Sandor watches this. He furrows his brows, unnerved by the interaction, gutted by the fact it ended in tears yet again. He replays the conversation. Was his touch truly that hard? He looks at his hand. He curses loudly and storms off to fuck all.

Sandor wakes before the sky does. He opens his heavy lids and sighs. He turns to his right on instinct; he watches his wife stretch out her arms in the expanse of nothingness between them. He likes to think that she is reaching out to him. He likes to think that if he reaches back, it'll make everything fine between them.

But then again, it had never been fine between them in the first place.

He makes sure not to touch or move her. Last time he did, she woke up. She truly was a light sleeper.

He slowly gets up. He quickly gets dressed. The moment he gets out of the room, he heads to his office.

He's finished his work by the time he hears a dog barking. He looks to the window, the sun looks back at him. He stands, stretches, and walks over to the sill, pushing the curtains open. He sees her, Lady Clegane, cuddling the mutt she named Daisy. Fucking Daisy. Polly, the stable boy was waving a stick, but the bitch could not care less about it, too preoccupied by her master.

He watches Daisy lick her neck. He watches how she scolds the dog for it but giggles anyway. Sandor sniffles. His mind wanders to the one time he had his face pressed on her neck like that. Fucking dog.

He watches the pair go inside. The Hound heads to the dining room promptly after.

He mutters to himself, trying to decide how to start, "I don't meant to make you cry-- I keep making you cry-- Fuck-- .... I know you don't like me," he stops in his tracks before he can get to his destination. He mutters to himself some more.

Fuck it.

He hears the telltale patter of Daisy's paws. It makes his fingers tingle.

When he gets to the dining room, he furrows his brows at the emptiness.

Lucy gasps at the sight of him. She topples back then regains her composure. She puts the plate of food she was holding down on the table with a bang. She looks at him and curtsies, "your food, milord."

"Where is she?"

Lucy's glare darkens, "she is dining with the servants."

He chuckles drily. He feels disappointment. He feels hurt. He immediately plays it off, "pretty squirrel's finally had enough of me."

"WILL YOU STOP CALLING 'ER THAT!" Lucy bursts, taking the Hound off-guard.

They both stare at each other, as if equally as shocked by the outburst.

Lucy fumes. Sandor freezes. The former decides she's already spoken, so she might as well continue, "she is a lady! You took her for this," she motions vaguely. "You need her," she speaks firmly, "just as much as she needs you."

The Hound scoffs. His insides burn and curdle at the idea of the little girl needing a beast to keep her safe. He snaps, "well, go ahead and tell her I will gladly be her hound and breed her little monsters as thanks for her nice, warm castle!"

Lucy makes no attempt to hide the revulsion she feels at the sound of the hound's words.

"You know what," he snarls, "why don't I breed her right now as a thank you?"

Lucy's face drops. She runs up to the Hound when he begins to storm off. She crumples like paper when he shoves her away. He doesn't do it hard enough that she shoots off to the table, but it's enough for her to get the message: he was deadly strong.

Lucy does her best to stop him. She cries and begs and screams. She digs her heels into floor and yanks him back but it doesn't do much, it doesn't do anything.

The Hound only stops when he finally sees her.

Lady Clegane is laughing with the servants as they watch Daisy roll on her belly for food. She feeds the dog just as Lucy runs up in front of him, severely distraught and tear stained. Lucy pushes her hands on his chest and begs him to punish her instead.

The Hound is sickened when Daisy runs up to him and whines. He recoils his hand when the bitch licks it.

"Lucy?"

Sandor flinches at the sound of his wife's voice and turns the other way.

I was in the middle of playing fetch with Daisy when she caught wind of something and ran off to the gate. Usually, this meant Sandor was home. Lo and behold, this moment was not any different.

I turn away immediately when we lock gazes.

The Hound had a large cut of meat on his shoulder. He grunts as Daisy barks and runs up to him, "fuck off, bitch."

He does his best to avoid the dog, nudging her away firmly with his leg as he walks up to a wagon and plops the hind of a cow on there. He hisses at Daisy when she gets on her two back legs and rests one good leg and bad one on his hips.

"Daisy!" I call.

She ignores me.

Sandor looks over his shoulder, "your mam's calling you, dog. Go on!"

Daisy clearly doesn't understand, or doesn't care, and barks at Sandor when he shoves her away. 

"Daisy!" I call and jog up to her when she follows Sandor out of the estate. I run up to the gate and watch as she is chased by the Hound. She runs as fast as her three paws will allow, clearly enjoying what she thought to be a game.

"Come here, you stupid bitch!" the Hound screams.

I turn to one of the men near me. I call Arron over and tell him to tell the Hound not to chase after her. He does just that, "milord! She will stop running if you stop chasing!"

I make a face as Lord Clegane curses and does his final attempt at catching the dog.

"Shall I bait Daisy with some meat, milady?" Arron asks.

I am about to respond but then there is a loud shriek from afar. It makes my blood go still.

The Hound immediately stops, straightens up, and looks at the distance.

I turn to Arron in a panic and tell him to get bait for Daisy. He quickly does that and calls for the dog to come back.

A bunch of peasants run and scream towards the estate; they scream milord.

Sandor goes to them.

When he reaches the panicked townspeople, he tells them all to shut the fuck up and explain what's happening. The old one clamours out that her daughter's been taken, says she was herding the cows then she was suddenly screaming, and he tried to reach her but it was too late. He says his son went to the woods to try and save her sister.

The Hound nods. He easily decides to go into the woods. The man's other son to leads the way.

In truth, the boy didn't have to go with him, he could just head to where the animals were fleeing, but he allowed it because he recognized the boy to be one of the ones in training. He has no idea what his name was though.

He was glad to hear the screams when he did, at least the ones that sounded human.

The Hound sees a lad and a lass running up to him, "RUN WHILE IT'S DISTRACTED!"

The boy by his side screams back, "the Hound is here! He's going to kill it!"

Well, Sandor was only meant to save the girl, and now that the girl was about to run past him, he didn't have to do anything, really. For some reason, he felt compelled to press on. Maybe it was the lack of his sense of self-preservation as of late, or no, don't call it that; it was his need for a distraction, his need prove something.

He sees it, the monster and its fresh kill. It must have been one of the girl's cows, or at least what was left of it. Gods, the abomination was a messy eater. He was glad, at least, it seemed to be starved and solely focused on eating.

His boots stomp into a puddle of blood when he charges at the thing and cuts its head off. That's was quick... and simple...

He's shocked when he hears a hellish scream behind him and gets knocked into a tree.

The Hound is dazed. He hears the battle cry of two voices. He watches the brothers do their best to stab at the thing that towers and claws at them. He promptly gets on his feet and charges at the disgusting fuck, managing to chop off its arm before it chops off the boy's head.

Just as he thinks he's about to get the upper hand, another vile beast pops up from the shadows. He fixes his footing and slashes his sword for his life.

One of the boys get injured. The boy's scream attract the monsters towards him, allowing the Hound to stab through one of them when it's attention is averted.

By the time one of the two vile cretins drop to the ground, the two boys are running for their lives with one monster on their tail. The Hound is forced to chase after them and curses the boys for running. He's not as quick as he was before.

He screams and grabs a rock, chucking it at the slimy tar creature. He throws and shouts some more until the monster is turned back and running towards him.

He slashes the stupid fuck with his sword when its close enough. It still picks a fight though.

He's losing his breath.

The next thing he knows, there's another monster screaming from behind him. The Hound prepares for the one behind him, but it doesn't reach him because its busy ripping something off it with a growl. It chucks something to the side. There is a separate whine that hisses with the wind.

The Hound finally kills the first monster that attacked him. It doesn't take much for him to kill the other as its belly was already gushing with viscous blood.

Once he's the only thing alive and standing, catches his breath and curses. He looks upon the fallen black creatures before him and reckons he ought to get out there before more come out.

But then he hears a rustle to his side. He immediately goes on the defensive and readies for another fight.

He follows the sound of heavy breathing.

His face drops when he hears the way the dog whines when he's spotted.

The Hound sheathes his sword and drops to his knees. He looks at Daisy, her one front paw bent, the other one not. Her hind legs were twisted unnaturally, her side was clawed. She was soaking in red, both hers and otherwise. She was panting and quickly losing blood.

Sandor reaches out to her. Her eyes were wide and teary. She leans into Sandor's touch and licks her nose in a panic.

He begins to feel a rage burn in him. He begins to feel loathe. He whisper-yells, "you stupid dog. You should have stayed home."

Daisy's breath quickens. He realizes see that she is trying not to whine. Gods, the pain she must be in.

He is about to tell her she was stupid for doing that, he is about to tell her she didn't need her help, he is about to tell her she was so fearless for no reason, but then Daisy whines. It was the most horrible thing he's ever heard.

Sandor huffs like he had been stabbed. He grips his hilt tightly, "thank you for saving me, Daisy."

Sandor screws his eyes shut and decides on what he has to do.

He draws his sword. Daisy does not flinch when he presses the sword onto her neck. He thinks about the day they'd first met. 

Fearless.

He strokes her face with his hand once. He screws his eyes shut when he feels her shiver. 

So afraid.

"You're a good dog."

His next stroke pulls Daisy's final breath.

The Hound stands. He looks upon his dog.

He screams.

He screams.

He screams, hell-bent on summoning more monsters. He kills three more stupid fuck, particularly enjoying how he butchered killing a young one.

He takes Daisy's body after. She is rigid against his chest when he reaches the village. He barks out an order to the villagers: burn those fucking monsters he killed. They were more than happy to oblige.

He passes the family he had helped. They are about to come up to thank him but they don't when they see what was in his arms.

He is swarmed with dread with what he is faced with when he reaches the estate. It was very clearly as search party for Daisy.

"SANDOR!" I cry out when I spot him from the distance. "DID YOU SEE DAISY WHEN-" I stop myself when I realize he is covered in blood. Suddenly, I feel awful for not asking him if he was injured before anything else.

His form becomes clearer as I jog up to him and call, "ARE YOU AL-"

I stop in my tracks when I see him adjust something in his arms. I knit my brows and continue walking towards him. Was it a head of a monster? Why was it brownish and not black?

The Hound gives me a solemn look as he inches closer. I furrow my brows at his expression.

It takes a second then suddenly, it clicks.

I let out a horrified cry.

The Hound buries Daisy in the garden himself. Everyone in Brown Wood watches. I force a glance at my poor dog, even though I wanted to do nothing but turn away. Her injuries chill me to the bone. Lucy stands beside me, clutching my arm as she weeps, but does not look at Daisy once.

Maester Yannick speaks some words for her, as per my request, before Sandor covers the grave.

Once it was done, maester Yannick comes to me and says he will plant daisies at her grave come morrow. I cannot find solace, I cannot find myself to care.

"Did you have to slit her throat?!" I demand lowly, voice aching and angry. I eye the Hound with hot contempt and cynicism, "was there REALLY no saving her?!"

"My lady," the maester holds me back, "I saw her body. Lord Clegane showed her mercy."

"Did you enjoy executing your mercy?!" I wail, ripping my arms away from Lucy and Yannick. My gaze does not trail to them at all, as I am intent on getting answers from my dog's executioner.

The Hound's face is blank, it enrages me.

I snarl through tears, "gods, I hope you did! I hope you savored finally being free of your bitch!"

Lucy calls after me as when I storm away. She means to run after me but shoots a glare at the Hound before doing so. She is momentarily stunned when he sees how distraught he looks at the moment. 

Sandor marches out of the estate.

I jolt awake when I hear the front door opening. I wipe my face and quickly stand from the chair in the middle of the living space. The fireplace near me had already burned out.

After the sound of locks disappear in the darkness, I take the unlit candle on the table beside me and walk up to the burning candelabra to light it.

I hear heavy footsteps draw closer.

Boots skid, "fuck."

I look up after lighting my candle. The Hound looks back at me.

"What are you doing?"

I purse my lips and turn to my feet. I clutch my candle, finding it hard to speak. 

"Lucy kick you out of her bed?" he mutters then begins to walk off.

I look up and follow after him. I finally muster out, "you arrive later and later."

He scoffs.

"It's been five days. I fear you'll not return by the tenth."

I pull my head back and stop in my tracks just as the Hound turns and chuckles, "don't worry, little girl. I like the wages of a Lord. Your hound isn't running."

"I know you're not running!" I snap, "I wonder why you think so poorly of yourself!"

"I think poorly of myself?" he hisses and points to his chest.

"Yes!" I bark and push myself up on my tiptoes to prove a point, "and since you are so keen to put words in my mouth, I hope you shove all the fucking pie the unwitting peasants gave you down your blasted throat!"

The Hound is shocked by my profanity. His face slips into confusion.

I heave and pull back, intent on walking away. And I do. I should have never waited for him.

"What fucking pie?"

I snap and turn back at him, "the one you could have eaten fresh had you spared a moment this morning before leaving for a monster hunt!"

Sandor is wholeheartedly confused.

I am aggravated by his expression. I wave my hands, unintentionally putting out the flame of my candle, "they love you, Hound! They're thankful and grateful!"

Though it was darker now, I see his face pinch in to a sort of disgusted disbelief. The sight infuriates me, it squeezes my heart, it pricks me frustration. I wipe my face and repeat the words that were spoken to me, "tell Lord Clegane that without him my children would be dead. Tell Lord Clegane that he has saved me family from hunger. Tell Lord Clegane that me, and my sons, and my sheep are happy to-"

"I didn't do it for them," Sandor cuts me off with a hand raise.

I purse my lips and slowly pull my head back at his words.

He lowers his hand and eyes me for a moment. I see how his gaze drinks my figure. He clenches his jaw and looks away, "you should be asleep."

My jaw slacks.

I wait for him to look at me. I wait for him to ask if I was going to sleep with Lucy again. I wait for him to apologize for keeping me up worrying. I wait for him to bring up Daisy. I wait him to do something, but he doesn't.

My eyes water, "my lo-"

"Good night," he dismisses and turns around to walk away.

"Aren't you-" my voice cracks, "-going to ask me to go to bed with you?"

He stops in his tracks. He does not look back, "do you want me to?"

I furrow my brows deeply. I feel like I was drowning. I let out a shaky breath and wrap my arms around myself. I shake my head and turn away. I chuckle dryly, "forgive me for even asking."

Sandor turns back, jaw hanging, hands clenched. He does nothing but watch.

"Do you know what's going to happen now, little girl?"

"Yes."

"What's going to happen?"

"You're going to fuck me."

Sandor laughs lowly, placing his hands on my cheeks. He swipes his thumb on my lips, "filthy mouth."

He kisses me deeply.

"Tell me honest," he mutters through kisses, "have you ever done this before?" he speaks as his hands paw at my sides, "I would not judge you if you did."

I squeak when he touches me between my thighs.

He draws out a deep breath, "no, of course you haven't; you're a good girl."

I gasp at the sound of thunder. I jolt up from my bed-- I turn to my side, seeing a sleeping Lucy's form-- or I mean, Lucy's bed. I look for Daisy in the room as I slowly push the blankets off me. I still when I realize she wasn't here.

I huff and wipe my face. I try to push away the thoughts of Daisy out of my head. I try not to think of her so much because I end up melancholy and furious. I, instead, find myself drifting to the dream I just had-- been having.

The mind can be so treacherous. I nibble my lower lip and rub my belly.

I tried, you know. I went to the Hound the morning after we fought about his coming home late. I tried to make peace with him. I tried to persuade him. I tried to kiss him.

I gasp again when another crack of thunder echoes through the room.

He wasn't having it though. He pushed me away and told me it was wrong, that we shouldn't be doing that. He left the estate shortly after. He hasn't been home since.

I get out of bed and light a candle for myself. I walk to my bedroom and light any of the candles that went off on my way. I wrap my arms around myself and rub my skin. I open the door to room as softly as possible, though it didn't really matter in the end because it was pouring outside and the noise wouldn't be loud.

With a barely audible creak, the door opens.

And it was also empty.

I sigh at the made bed. I walk towards it and smoothen out the already smooth sheets. I decide to get dressed for the day.

I head to the office, which as empty as the bedroom. I light the candles there.

I sit down on the desk and go through the papers, the letters of requests, the list of complaints, the finances, the works. I rub my eyes, willing my sleep away. I look out my window, seeing barely any hint of sun through the dark clouds.

I don't know how exactly how much time passed between then and when Arron burst in, but it must have been a while, considering how nice it felt to stand after hearing him shout, "HE'S HOME, MILADY!"

I immediately blow out the candles as Arron tells me the Hound was in the living area. I thank him for telling me, gather my skirts, and jog out of the room.

I cannot hear the click of my heels over the sound of the persisting rain-- the persisting storm.

I stop in my tracks when I see a trail of water in the corridor that led to my bedroom.

A crack of lightning bolts through the sky when I walk in and ask "where have you been?!"

The Hound is dripping in rain water. He has his back turned to me. He is undoing his armor.

I clench my fists and storm up to him. I circle in front of him the same time he walks towards the closet. He stops there, still undoing his armor, back turned to me again.

I scowl, "Hound! I'm speaking to you!"

He looks over his shoulder, the one he was trying to undo, "what? I can't hear you over the rain."

I burn hot with anger and march up to him, "I asked where you've been!"

The Hound looks down at me. He releases the grip on his shoulder, "does it matter where I've been?"

"Yes!" I snap, "you haven't come home in 7 days."

He scoffs, "thrilling to know you've been counting," he points to the window, "well, as you can see, it's fucking storming."

"It wasn't storming the day you left," I hiss.

"Well, it was when I decided to come to my beautiful wife," he leans down and jeers.

I knit my brows at him and pull back when I smell the alcohol in his breath.

He takes my chin between his fingers, "come on give us a smile."

I pull away from him, heart racing, chin burning, even though his touch got my skin damp with rain water.

The Hound straightens up and undoes his armor again.

I step away from him, "Job said he saw you in the next town over."

"Who the fuck is Job?" he asks, not bothering to look at me.

"Polly's father."

"The stable boy?" he turns to me.

"Yes," I hiss and I feel anger build up in me.

He says nothing.

I nearly choke when I say the next words, "he said he saw you coming out of brothel."

The Hound stills. He drops his hands to the side.

Both of us just stand there for a moment. The rain seems to intensify, and so does the tension between us.

"Tell me the truth," I mutter, "do you-"

"It was the town with the fucking unavailable inn," he shifts in his spot to turn to me, "I went to the brothel instead and paid for lodging there."

I purse my lips at his words. That was not what I was going to ask him. I battle with myself, trying to find the words I want to say. I revise my words over and over again in my head. There were so many things I wanted to say, yet so little ways to make it easy to speak out.

I shake my head, "am I very hard to want?"

Sandor feels rain water drip from his fingers.

I don't know how I feel about the bewildered and perplexed expression that spreads across his face. I do know one thing at least, I feel too exhausted to cry.

I sigh and shrug, "I am no fool, Hound. I learned through the gossip of my maids and my aunts growing up that men are simply like... this. It is their nature to stray. Of course, I hoped different for myself, but we cannot have it all, can we?"

"But I didn't do anything," he snaps. He deflates, "I swear by the gods, old and new."

I press my lips into a tight smile. I slowly walk up to him. He watches me intently. I hear his breath hitch when I begin to undo his armor for him. I half expect him to make me stop. He doesn't.

Sandor steps forward. There's barely any space between us anymore. His heart is racing. His hands itch to touch. He releases a breath when his hand comes to my side.

My stomach swirls at the feel of his palm but I do nothing. Neither do I look at him when I mutter, "maybe you should."

Sandor watches me remove his armor. He furrow his brows and whispers, "what?"

I drop the steel plate to the ground with a clank. It is loud even with the sound of pouring rain.

He doesn't like it when he receives no reply. He takes my wrist. I stop my task. His hand is warm albeit the dampness, and so very gentle. 

I finally look up at him.

He leans closer and speaks louder. He shakes his head and furrows his brows, "what did you say, pretty squirrel?"

I raise my brows, "maybe you should."

"Should what?"

"Do something in the brothels."

His face falls. We stare at each other for a moment. He is clearly in disbelief.

I pull my hand out of his grip. He almost doesn't let me.

"It's not a trick, I swear it."

"What are you saying?" he shakes his head faster and finds himself playing on the offensive, "you want me to be with someone else?!"

"I want a baby," I mutter.

Sandor's face falls again, but then it twists. It is unbearable to look at.

"Find a woman you desire," I turn away from him, "and give her your seed. You may keep her here if you like, and I will let her take care of the babe, but the babe will be mine."

His lips part.

"You're right. I don't want the memory of my family to be tainted by monstrosity-"

He shakes his head once more.

"-and I am the last of my line. My line lives on with House Clegane. People remember names, not blood."

He takes my hand, "I desire you."

I cannot help it. I begin to cry because of that. I break into both tears and laughter, "you needn't shield my heart, Sandor."

Sandor's stomach drops, both at the fact his own words have been used against him and with how his name was spoken.

I place a hand on his cheek.

His knees go weak.

"We've both hurt enough," I smile, "I know you think otherwise, but I'm not a little girl. I know sometimes winning means admitting defeat when the loss is great."

He grabs both my wrists when I try to pull away. I gasp when he does so. He holds me for a second then releases my wrists to capture my cheeks instead. He wipes my tears with his thumbs. He swipes my lips, "I love you."

I screw my eyes shut and cling onto his forearm. I let out another laugh, "I don't think you hurt people that you love, my lord."

The Hound is pierced through his armor.

He doesn't put up a fight when I pull his hands off me.

I continue to undo his armor. He doesn't move an inch.

"Will you sleep with me tonight?" he whispers. The sound of the rain is too loud that only him and the gods heard it.

Sandor had been out of it ever since his pretty squirrel ate his insides. He was thick faced, literally and figuratively; he's learned to take pride in it, to find solace in the fact all the years of flesh ripping torture-- figuratively and literally, had made him indifferent to what people think, made him apathetic, numb.

And yet her smile that day was worse than a sword through the spleen. Her disbelief in his words-- because she was right, you don't hurt people you love-- was heart wrenching, blood draining.

What do you say to that? How do you fix that?

You don't.

He knows you don't. You can't fix something like that.

And since this truth has dawned on him, since this truth has slit his throat, he's been a headless, mindless fucker. He was a dead man walking, and one more unwitting monster attack away from making it real.

"MILORD!" Carter cries, raising his sword to hack at the monster who managed to swipe his lately-been-aloof Lord Clegane.

The boy is fired up; his blood is pumping enough to enable him to cut the black demon's arm off and sequentially pierce it through its heart. Carter does it with a scream and regrets it a moment later; after all, they were in the middle of the woods.

They have to get out of here.

Sandor makes a pained noise. He feels heat surge down his arm and cold shiver up his spine.

"YOU'RE BLEEDING!" Carter gasps, mortified that his lord's armor was scraped off his back. The boy realizes suddenly that his Lord, the fearsome Hound, was not invincible. This newfound truth rips into his ribs the way, he thinks, the monsters would.

The boy immediately takes the Hound in his arms, though it wasn't like he could actually carry him if he wanted. Sandor steadies himself on the boy; Carter struggles even with that task. 

Still, the smaller manages to support his Lord out of the woods.

The next thing Sandor knows, he's screaming and thrashing. He vaguely hears the sound of footsteps skidding away from him.

"What's happening, Maester Yannick?!"

A deep sigh, "he probably feels the pain now."

Sandor realizes he's sat down on a stool, leaned against a table, or at least he was before he started flailing his arms around. He lets out a guttural cry as he pushes himself up. He realizes he's in the ward, being attended by the maester, and his wife was present and very troubled.

"My lord!" Yannick exclaims, raising his hands in both surrender and an attempt to soothe, "it's alright. I have stitched your wounds closed. Do not tear them open "

Sandor huffs through his nostrils. He turns to his side when he hears the soft way his name was spoken. Lady Clegane walks closer, hand wanting to reach out to him. He almost reaches back but then she digs her nails into her palms.

He sinks into the stool and watches her look at him. Her eyes are glassy. Why are they always glassy?

"My lord," Yannick walks towards him, "I'm going to wrap your wounds now."

Sandor huffs in agreement, or more accurately, acknowledgement. His eyes are still fixed on her though. He watches her hover around him, evidently unsure about approaching him.

He wants to reach out to her. He wants to touch her, to soothe her so, so badly.

He's shocked when she decides to take his hand and whispers, "shall I get you milk of the poppy?" 

Sandor looks up at her. Her voice was shaky and he hates how worried it sounded, how desperate. He hates how her eyes were constantly red. He knits his brows, "no."

She hisses, "are you certain? Your gashes are deep. No one in the world would fault you for wanting something to relieve the pain."

"I want to feel it," he mutters, "I want to feel."

She looks between the two of them in a panic, "but you've lost so much blood--"

"Perhaps," Yannick interrupts firmly. He starts binding his wounds, "he wants to feel precisely because he's light headed after losing blood."

Sandor straightens up slowly as he is instructed to. His attention is solely focused on the sensation on his hand though, on how the jittery squirrel was rubbing her soft fingers on his calloused skin.

She persists with this action until his chest and back is bound, she persists until Maester Yannick leaves the room, she persists until, next moment, she drops on her knees beside him. The Hound reacts in an instant.

He gets on the floor beside her, uncaring how it hurt his back, and clutches her face. He calls her name in horror.

"Are you punishing me?" she whispers as water in her eyes threaten to spill.

Sandor knits his brows deeply. He can't speak. He's too afraid to. Everything he's said up until that point has done nothing but rip them both apart. He was a hound after all.

"Are you trying to kill yourself to get back at me?" she mutters, distressed, pained, and defeated.

His face contorts even more. He hesitates but then shakes his head, "no."

"The boy said you've been acting differently as of late!" she grabs his wrists, "ever since I told you what I wanted from you."

His lips twitch. He looks away.

She tightens her grip, "please."

He is suddenly so acutely aware of his injuries. The pain throbs all the way through his heart.

"Please," she begs softly, "just tell me what you want from me-"

"Everything."

The way he responded was quick, as if it was practiced, as if it was reflex.

He avoids her gaze. He takes a deep breath. He waits for a response he somehow knows will never come.

When he turns to her, he notices how her face dropped. Gods, Sandor. Get it together.

"I want-" he starts but cannot continue because of how guilty he feels over the sight of her wobbling lip.

Sandor's hands loosen. They melt from her cheeks, down her shoulders. He grips the area, as if she was water about to slip through his fingers. He releases a breath, and with it, it seems, his thoughts escape. He mutters somethings that mean nothing. She doesn't understand anything.

She whimpers, "I have nothing left to give; you already have it all."

The Hound freezes when his cheek is touched, when his scar is touched. It's like it's being burned all over again.

"Is there something I can give you now?" she huffs uneasily.

He sighs. He feels the wounds throbbing; he feels his head pounding, "no."

"Then will you let me go now?" 

No. No, no, no, no-

"Or, please, at least loosen your grip."

Immediately, Sandor releases her shoulders. She sequentially lets out a breath and rubs the area. There is an imprint on the area of her exposed skin.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

"Do you want me to stay?"

Yes. "Do you want to stay?"

"I had planned to finish some errands before going to bed."

Sandor averts his gaze then slowly crawls back to his stool, "then leave."

It almost hurts as much as his cuts how quickly she stands. She looks down at him, "I will leave you to your solidarity."

Please don't go.

"I will tell Maester Yannick to come back to attend to you, Hound."

Hound. It sounds like shattering glass.

Sandor listens to the click of her heels as she leaves him.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being complicit in my friend's situationship? (NSFW, and sorry, it's long, but at least it's dramatic.)

I had a friend (I will refer to as Kate), who I no longer speak to for reasons unrelated to this scenario. We dated on and off for a couple years and broke up permanently about a year before these events, but remained as roommates. Everyone in the story was in their 20s.

Kate went to a trade school and met a man (I will refer to as Andrew) who flirted with her despite mentioning before that he had a girlfriend. Kate was attracted to Andrew but told him that she wouldn't get involved with him unless he broke up with his girlfriend. He then told her that his girlfriend was distant to the point that they hadn't slept together in years, they basically were just friends that lived together, but she wouldn't let him officially break up with her, and he couldn't afford to move out on his own.

Kate told me about this, sometimes asking what I thought, and though I had some doubts about whether that information was true, I didn't give any real advice in any direction. Obviously I was in a weird situation, but didn't want to discourage her, or she might have thought I was jealous. She wasn't happy when I went on a date during this time. She also accused me of emotionally cheating while we were dating, so I was not about to tell her how to define cheating. That's a whole other story, but I say "accused" bc it basically boiled down to me still being friends with someone I previously had feelings for, and Kate believed I was more attracted to the old friend than her. That remained a sore spot for the whole time we knew each other, although I cut off the old friend a year after Kate and I started dating.

A few months went by, and they spent more time together at the school, and her car, hooking up at both. They never went to his place. He also asked her not to initiate text conversations, in case his girlfriend saw his phone. He came over to our place twice, and both times she texted me out of the room so they could be alone. Kate acted very happy talking about him, occasionally guilty or suspicious, but said she thought she loved him. Her moods fluctuated a lot, as she experiences manic and depressive episodes, and I was trying to comfort her through the bad times.

When they were about to graduate, Kate told Andrew that since they wouldn't see one another at school together anymore, she would stop talking until he broke up with his girlfriend. Then Kate saw his girlfriend show up at their school acting, well, like his girlfriend. So she became suspicious. Andrew also started flirting with another woman at their school, who flirtaciously messaged Kate. Kate thought Andrew was trying to set up a threeway, even after breaking off their situation. This ended with a lot of angry texts to Andrew from Kate, demanding that he tell his girlfriend everything. Andrew claimed he did, and then the conversation ended.

Many months later, Kate doubted Andrew told his girlfriend, so Kate asked me to make a burner account to message her, and I did. She didn't seem to be aware of any of it. At this point, Kate felt that Andrew had exploited her, but as far as I know, all of their interactions were consensual. I think she was trying to deal with her own guilt by leaving all the blame on him, but I never dared to tell her she'd done any wrong here. I also felt complicit in that I probably should have guessed that she was manic during this and given better advice.

I know this was a lot of info, but it could have been a lot longer. I'm just wondering now, a long time later, was ITA for not telling my friend flat out to stop the situation, or that she was doing something wrong?

[wesawbears]

Forehead touch nation, come get your fic!

Under the cut, 1,400 words of Andreil, who I have apparently not written in over a year. Nonetheless, I actually like how this turned out, so, enjoy!

--

As usual, Neil was the last to leave the locker room after practice, shaking his wet hair out. It had grown a little longer than he usually kept it, but being captain kept him busy, and he wasn't known for keeping up with his appearance at the best of times.

The lounge was empty when he emerged, besides one other figure lounging across the couch, who glanced over at the sound of Neil's footsteps.

"Always the last one out," Andrew droned, sitting up at his approach. "Perhaps an issue of object permanence? The stadium does not disappear once you leave."

Neil grinned slightly and stopped a few steps in front of him. "If object permanence was my problem, then I don't think a long distance relationship would have worked as well for us as it has."

Andrew stood then, bringing a hand to a lock of hair hanging in front of Neil's face. He wound it around his finger. "Then a memory issue. Six months to forget scissors exist." He tugged the lock gently before pulling his hand away.

"Not long enough to forget that you like it that way."

Andrew did not choose to confirm that, instead hooking his fingers around two of Neil's to lead them out of the locker room. Neil locked up quickly before letting Andrew lead him to his car.

Christmas break was upon him, Neil's last before graduation, and he and Andrew were headed to Andrew's apartment in Chicago in the morning. But Neil needed to finish some things up before the break, so their first night of the next two weeks together was spent alone in his dorm, the same dorm they had shared until June.

They had done this exact journey hundreds of times before, every night practice, every half asleep stumble back to the dorms, back to the room and bed that was theirs, existing in a space where the world suspended for them, for once yielding to the gravitational pull between them.

Of course, the past six months since Andrew's graduation had taken the night from them, leaving the roof and the car and all of the places that had grown roots in Neil upended.

But he had it back for tonight, and had Andrew for the next two weeks, flesh and blood and here instead of a voice craggy on the other end of a phone call. 

He peeled himself away from the window when they pulled up to Fox Tower, abandoned for break except for the two of them and maybe a dozen other athletes still there. Andrew tapped his wrist twice with his fingers as Neil looked up at the few lights still on, blending with the stars.

"Still here?" he asked.

Neil nodded, not yet free enough from the spell of the car ride to conjure an answer. Luckily, Andrew wouldn't expect one to such a mundane question.

Once they entered his room, Neil threw his things down before climbing easily into the loft. It was as easy as breathing still to leave space by the wall for Andrew to climb in.

"Not too much?" he asked, aware that Andrew might need to adjust to touch after half a year living alone.

"Not too much," he said, pulling Neil's hand closer, inspecting each scar and line and divot on it.

"I don't think my hand has changed," Neil commented with a small smile.

Andrew didn't answer, but it didn't require one, and Neil liked that he knew Andrew had every speck memorized, that this inventory was against a catalog of Neil that he couldn't forget if he tried.

"You'll understand if I wanted to check for myself," Andrew said cooly at last, settling with their hands together.

Neil laid with his chin propped in his free hand. "There haven't been any life threatening incidents since freshman year."

Andrew huffed. "One might say your luck is running down."

"One might also say you've been worried about me."

The words hovered in the air between them. It wasn't that Neil expected Andrew to answer- at least not right away. But he couldn't help but give the game away a little. Had Andrew missed him? 

"Kevin says you're going to Denver next year."

Neil snorted. "Kevin knows I haven't accepted."

"Yet," Andrew finished for him.

"Yet."

Andrew busied himself by stroking the knuckle of Neil's hand with his thumb. "If you're waiting for a call from Chicago, we're not recruiting for a striker right now."

Neil swallowed. "That's what Coach said. But maybe something closer-"

"Do not make your life choices based on proximity to me."

Anger flared bright and hot in Neil's chest. "I'm making decisions based on what I want and what's important to me. Your self-deprecation isn't a reason to take my choice away."

When Andrew remained quiet, Neil's anger deflated somewhat into the embarrassment and hurt it stemmed from. "Do you not want me there?"

Andrew's eyes snapped up to his. He took Neil's fingers and pressed two of them to his neck, where his pulse jackrabbited against them. All at once it was an airport, a rooftop and a thousand moments since. 

"You're afraid," he said simply.

"Exy is the most important part of your life. It has to be because it is your life. If Denver is the best team, that's where you have to go."

Neil moved his fingers back, hovering by Andrew's head. "Yes or no?" It was usually Andrew’s thing, but Neil had to be sure.

"Yes," Andrew said, eyes closing when Neil's hand guided his head to meet their foreheads together.

"I want you. I want this. And don't tell me there is no this when that lie ran out years ago. I told you I was done running away. I'm running towards you. And maybe I'm in Denver and maybe I'm in Chicago, but it's still you. I just need to know that it's me back for you."

Andrew brushed their cheeks together, the barest touch that lit Neil's bones up from inside. "Don't ask things you know the answer to."

"Do I know the answer?"

Andrew brought Neil's fingers down to his wrists, a reminder of the price he'd paid the last time he'd wanted to keep something. 

"Andrew, I'm not going anywhere," Neil whispered into his hair. "What more do I have to do?"

Andrew hummed, the reverberation spreading through Neil's face. His lips moved to ghost over his temple. "I want you. Saying it does not change things."

"Humor me?" Neil said. "If it could, what would you want? I told you what I wanted. You and Exy. Is it so strange to want them at the same time again? I said once to borrow from me until you found something. Have you?"

"This."

Neil scrunched his face. "Us fighting in a dorm bed?"

"You. Safe where I can see you. A stretch of road tomorrow." He paused. "A night where I know where you'll be the next morning."

Neil smiled. "It seems both of our expectations are rock bottom."

"I'd say that four years ago my expectations were in hell. It is not my fault they have farther to rise than most."

Neil huffed a laugh. "Tomorrow morning, I'll be here. And the next two weeks. And next year, I'll be with you. You just have to let me."

"I've been letting you get away with things for five years," Andrew relented at last. "One day I'll fix that."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Neil answered. After a moment, he said. "I'll consider Denver. But plane tickets aren't too bad. I can be with you every night one of us isn’t playing. I'm not saying it will be perfect. But it's ours and I want to fight for it."

 Andrew pulled him closer by his t-shirt and Neil could feel the world between them, everything of the past five years mingling together in the tiny space where Andrew hadn’t closed the gap.

“Yes or no?”

“Andrew, you already know-”

“Humor me,” he echoed Neil.

“Yes. Always, come on.”

Andrew pulled him closer and his kiss was fierce and quiet, a solid weight that anchored Neil to the moment they’re in. 

For once, he had time. The future lay stretched before them, like the open road that awaited them tomorrow. Andrew was here, now. And neither of them were going anywhere.

[n7punk]

i know probably no one here gives a shit about it or listening to me specifically talking about it but i watched a great video on the watcher situation and i have thoughtsssssss so im going to spew them into the ether

tldr watcher (the former buzzfeed unsolved + worth it boys after they split from bz) did a big hype countdown for their fans... to them announcing they were launching a "streaming service" and paywalling all their content - present and PAST - behind it for 6$ a month. they totally shit on their fans saying anyone could afford it (i cant - or at least i wont for the value to me) and then they gaslit us and said it was never the plan to remove the past content even though they say it in the video and it was in the fucking variety article that launched along with the announcement.

anyway, what kind of surprises me is everyone comparing this to dropout (and now try guys) when there's another example of this that is even more relevant right now and it's roosterteeth, which is only relevant right now because they just went bankrupt. and imo, there's absolutely no comparison in value (however you feel about the content) between dropout/roosterteeth and watcher.

size: rt had a massive cast, dropout seems to have a decent amount too (only familiar with game changer, sorry). try guys has a few core members, true, but over the last few years they've been trying to diversify, bring more people in over a few videos to test the waters, and then they invested into new shows with those faces when creating their lineup for the streaming service. watcher is three guys. oh sorry four now they brought andrew on for the worth it clone 🙄 i hated that guy at buzzfeed and i hate him now lol

bloat: try guys started with a few employees working out of ned's old house and grew organically. dropout cut down significantly when they broke from college humor and budgeted until they could afford to hire more. roosterteeth started in a spare bedroom and then slowly grew into larger and larger offices over time. watcher immediately bought a massive office space in LA and then jumped to an even larger one, with 25 employees when most shows could probably be done with half as many people that end up credited! 25 employees and you upload once or twice a week if that?? that means one video has to pay for 25 people to live that week, in addition to business expenses. they want to be a large production company, so they're acting like they are without making the output or doing the research.

youtube presence: rt still uploaded most things to youtube, my understanding is dropout still posts as well, and try guys is planning to keep all their current shows on youtube, just on a schedule delay like rt did. all services have stuff exclusive to their service, but that's new, extra stuff that serves as a value-add. watcher was just going to abandon every fan that didn't pay for their service, and even after the backlash the delay is a MONTH? for rt it was just a week!

platforms: try guys is launching with the site, phone apps, and even a roku tv app! roosterteeth had an app too and dropout has phone/roku apps. watcher is launching with a single website in beta. it's a money-hungry patreon, not a streaming service with a diverse lineup of shows. calling it a streaming service is ludicrous to me.

(apparently the fan theory is that watcher caught wind of the try guys launching their own streaming service and tried to jump the gun to get ahead of them, but by god did they fumble that)

frequency: if you were a fan of one person at roosterteeth, as long as they were the main cast member of something, it was likely you could tune in to a new episode of something with them in it twice a week, sometimes every day, multiple times. like, it's insane watcher thinks they have the amount of content to justify this. and remember, roosterteeth failed! obvs it worked for a long time and there's warner bros being eager to pull the plug to contend with (not to mention the alleged embezzlement?) but youtubers should be really fucking cautious right now. try guys is launching with a catalogue of new shows they've been silently producing alongside their usual content for a year! that's the way to do it right

paid events availability: try guys used to have ticketed flagship liveshows that are all being added to the new streaming service. if you were the kind of fan who wants to go to all those, you might even save money. roosterteeth also had events like this that were exclusive to paid subscribers. watcher doesn't have anything comparable.

goodwill: i would argue this was a big contributor to why roosterteeth finally went bankrupt with all the trust (and good memories too!) lost in the scandals. dropout fans seem to be really proud of the company and how its run (i heard they're like, the only streaming service to offer residuals? thats so cool). the try guys went through their own scandal and only came out with a stronger bond with their fans for how quickly they acted (a few were lost, but my final impression in the end was we all gained respect for how they handled it). the try guys have talked about taking paycuts as the ceo to fund all this production! meanwhile watcher brags about how large their production is without ever justifying why they need it. related:

tonedeafness: supposedly the streaming service is to pay for high production value. no one is really buying that. the company is bloated and mismanaged, but the real thing was them launching a worth it clone. don't get it twisted, every ceo, part-owner, etc is to blame for this, not just the face of worth it, but no fan who is bankrolling the show themselves wants to watch someone else eat luxury food. people liked that when it was a grift on buzzfeed, not on them.

this is completely subjective but i watch three shows on watcher (unsolved, puppet history, and mystery files) and i'd have to be making 4x my salary for me to be willing to pay 6$ a month for three shows no matter how much i like them. like, i'm not paying 6$ for try guys either, but watcher being so focused on having "shows" and "seasons" makes it really easy to point to how little i really watch there versus try guys which has a big variety of stuff not tied to a specific show name. i never think about "which shows" i watch on try guys.

idk i just think roosterteeth's goliath cast and output still burning out should be brought up more when talking about (the comparatively) little 3 million subscribers watcher trying to launch their own "streaming service" when there's a pretty good cautionary tale right now - well, two when you consider how this went down lol

[blindingliqhts]

i'm so excited about this AHH

I HAVE STARTED MY FIRST EVER AFTG RE-READ

i first read it from the 18th november to the 7th december 2023 so it has been 245 days since i finished TKM and i'm re-reading it

ANYWAY... my aim is to post any thoughts for each chapter- who knows how well i'll end up sticking to it cause there's every chance i'll get bored but i'm gonna at least try

TFC CHAPTER 1:

oh neil <3333 it's completely fascinating to me how endearing he is as a character straight away and andrew was so right to find him interesting like he REALLY is especially now that we've seen him from an outsider's person (jean in TSC). he's just so into his routines and life on the run that whilst he is aware that his way of life isn't typical, he is so desensitized to all of his thought processes like how if kevin remembers him he can leave PSU straight away

again about neil he deserves so much 😭😭 the way you can just feel how badly (against his better judgement) he wants to sign the contract and NOT ONLY because of his love for exy but because after so many years on the run he just wants some stability for once. like wdym he's being offered the chance to stay in the same place for FIVE YEARS??? no wonder he can barely believe that a Class I team actually wants to sign him on

oh and LAST THING i'm positive someone else will have done this before but anyway i'm gonna count how many times neil says "i'm fine" so TFC chapter 1 he said it twice 😭

[ifitmeanslosingyouthenno]

when everything was lost

day 3 whumptober prompt: "set up for failure"

neil and andrew have known each other for longer before neil is taken by nathan

they might have met younger, like maybe seattle and mary happened earlier, and neil ended up around san francisco at the time andrew still lived with the spears, maybe they met before andrew went to juvie, maybe they met at juvie

or maybe neil is able to stay at palmetto for a few more years, maybe he’s not a fox at all, maybe he’s just a casual resident at palmetto that andrew meets outside of exy and they end up becoming friends, and then something more, and then something more

(actually the second alternative seems nicer lol lets go with that)

shit with the foxes is simultaneously worse and better, worse exy wise, bc if there’s no neil, they never unify as a team, and they still fight and they’re still a mess, and they don’t get quite as close to finals

but better bc with no neil, riko’s schemes are not as lethal, not as violent, not as traumatic 

but the foxes are not the point oops sorry

the point is that neil is just a random resident of palmetto who pretends to be a student to reap from the benefits of a college campus, and who happens to have something with andrew minyard, and who’s still on the run from nathan

and like, meeting andrew was not something he ever expected, meeting someone with whom he instantly connected, even if it wasn’t positive at first, was not something he ever expected

bc neil doesn’t have the money to pay college tuition and he doesn’t get a scholarship in this universe, so he just lives around palmetto but since he looks like he’s college aged, he’s realized ways of sneaking into the library, and the gym, and even the cafeteria if he’s lucky

it’s by chance or maybe fate that they keep running into each other: at the gym early in the morning before anyone else has arrived, at the library during the afternoons so that he can at least read up some books and use the computers sometimes, at the nearby cafe late at night

and the thing is that andrew clocked him the moment he noticed him stalling outside the gym one morning, waiting for someone else to use their student id to open the door and ask them to hold it for him, and the moment he caught him doing it twice

their first interaction is andrew calling neil out on his bullshit

bc andrew finds him so endlessly interesting while high out of his mind and well he’s kinda hot so 

and well, when they keep running into each other and andrew always reminds him of the fact that he knows the truth, neil can’t help but to tease him and fuck with him a bit, bc he literally only has sarcasm as his weapon at the time

and like, neil doesn’t notice it and andrew doesn’t admit it until after he comes off the drugs, that the more they run into each other, the more used they grow to each other’s bullshit and they actually look forward to running into each other

one night at the cafe andrew sits on the booth in front of him and just goes for it, just asks neil the truth, asks him why he keeps on pretending he’s a student, asks if he’s homeless

and neil throws all of mary’s teachings out the window bc let’s be real if andrew wanted to hurt neil he would have done it a long time ago, admits that yeah, he’s homeless at the moment, and that he’s going to make use of PSU’s utilities until someone who can actually report him figures him out 

andrew asks him why, and neil, tired and honestly done with the circus show that is his life, tells him, while looking him straight in the eye, that his father is a psychopath who murdered his mother after years of abusing them both and he’s on the run from him, figuring that andrew wasn’t a threat to him

and boy andrew is a sucker for honesty

andrew offers him safety, and neil warns him against it, “im more trouble than im worth”

andrew kindly disagrees

idk the logistics but he starts sneaking neil into the foxhole court at night so he has a place to sleep, to shower, to rest

(wymack knows btw lol he just gives andrew a knowing look after there are missing sports drinks from abby’s fridge, and looks the other way, bc he knows andrew wouldn’t be housing someone who could be dangerous for them just for the fun of it. and if he starts leaving food and snacks in his office well that’s no one’s business)

slowly, through months of meeting up for coffee or a drink or at the library or at a diner, or whatever, they grow closer, they start trusting each other with truths here and there, and neither has ever had this before, never had anyone they could trust and rely on and know that wouldn’t judge them for what they’ve done and wouldn’t pity them for what they have been through

it’s until one night, halfway through andrew’s fourth year, that neil kisses him, bc the’ve both been pining for each other for way too long and neil is fucking tired of waiting for andrew to take the first step

things are good for him, he has a boyfriend, and he meets some of the foxes, and if he starts staying the night at the dorms the only person who starts complaining is aaron (who gets over it when andrew drops their deal) and well

he’s happy, he’s not in the spotlight, he hasn’t seen any of his fathers people for years

he’s safe

he should have known better

the countdown comes at the end of andrew’s last year and he knows, even if he has no proof, that this is it

he runs the moment it hits him, how he could have had this, how he’s been troublefree for years, and now that he has something, someone, who makes him look forward to waking up everyday, it all comes crashing down on him

he can’t stop himself from going back tho, bc if he’s going to lose it all, he might as well enjoy his last days

ultimately, he knew he never should have hoped for a happy ending, he knew he was set for failure the moment he was born, the moment he grew up and didn’t have his father’s murderous desire, the moment his mother took him and ran, the moment she died, the moment he decided to settle here

he knew he was never meant to succeed, he was never meant to survive this war

his end was bound to happen, one way or another, eventually

they come for him when the foxes (when andrew) is away for a game, when it’s only him at the dorms, when a message with a dooming 0 arrived just before andrew left and neil kissed him with enough force to bruise 

he doesn’t make a fuss when they come, just makes sure his phone and bag are in the couch, with letters explaining the full truth inside the duffel, with letters apologizing and guiding andrew to the very last of his money, with clear instructions of how to call the police and his uncle stuart and what to tell them

when lola comes knocking, he crosses over the door with teary eyes but nothing but defiance 

he may be going down tonight, he may be losing this fight, and he may be losing the most important person he never dreamed to have

but if he’s going to lose it all, if he’s going to lose this, if he’s going to lose andrew, then they’re going to lose too

it doesn’t make the hours of torture any easier, it doesn’t make death easier, it doesn’t take away the knowledge that he came close to having a happy ending and failed in the end

(what hurts the most is the knowledge that he’s left andrew behind, with nothing but a burden of the truth)

sorry i kinda lost track of what the prompt was lmao

not my favorite thing i've written but it is what it is

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hey Aerie! Could we have a little bit Mafia Restaurant? I love them! I hope you'll have a good week and fun with the other Vampires! (Ps: you're awesome!)

WIP Wednesday (5/15) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 160)

Andrew hasn’t been keeping track of time, but he knows he’s taken at least twice as long to eat the same amount of food as Neil. To be fair, Neil inhaled his meal in about fourteen seconds flat. To be even more fair, Andrew made sure to cut his food into smaller pieces than usual. And he’s been chewing slower than a tortoise with dentures.

For no special reason. Just because he feels like taking his time. Not because finishing this meal means going home and leaving this place behind for good. After breaking the remainder of his bread into smaller and smaller pieces, he’s finally got a tiny morsel of it left. He pops it into his mouth and listens to Neil talk.

When Neil notices his bowl is empty and his bread is no more, he clams up. “Oh, you’re done.”

“Mm.” Andrew wipes his mouth and takes a drink from his cup of stale water. “Tell Moreau it was the only French thing I’ve ever liked.”

“Including people?”

“Naturally.” Andrew says, making Neil laugh. Then he snaps his fingers. “Oops, I’m a liar. I like French fries. And French toast.”

“Not really French.”

“No? It’s in the name.” Andrew says as Neil stands up.

“Just a second.” He says, then he collects their bowls and takes off towards the kitchen. Andrew watches him go and checks the time on his phone. It’s getting close to his self-imposed deadline. He’s got to leave. Damn it. 

A part of him wants to ask for Neil’s number. A different part of him wants to ask if Neil’d like to sneak into the restroom for a blowjob. But based on Neil’s extremely intense yet vague answers about their relationship, Andrew fears Jean Moreau would put a bullet in his head for either. 

Andrew swipes a memento from the table and crams it into his pocket, still debating his options. Before he can make up his mind, Neil comes out of the kitchen with a bottle of beer and a half-smile on his face. Oh, fuck. He’s so pretty and stupid. Andrew would chew through the seat of this booth for five minutes— 

“I’m afraid I have to go now,” Andrew says, suddenly standing and straightening his shirt.

“Really? It’s just—” Neil turns over his wrist and his face falls. “Oh shit. Yeah, I guess you’d better. Maybe next time you’re in town, you’ll stop by for some authentic French cooking?”

Andrew’s mouth quirks against his will. “Maybe. See you, Neil. And, just so you know, you’ve gotten better at waitering the last couple days.”

“Thanks. Bye, Andrew.” Neil says with a little wave. Andrew takes a mental photo and stumbles out of the restaurant feeling like he’s just stepped out of a dream. He pats his pockets and, damn it, he remembered his wallet this time. There’s no reason to go back in.

Andrew sighs and starts the trek back to the hotel.

[allthishumanityforfree]

Would you mind a Gr***e and Andrew timeline? I was trying to work back from Glastonbury to see where she fitted in amongst Andrew and Paul.

From Reddit and G stans:

1) Paul and G first rumoured to be hanging out/dating Oct 23. She has gigs in UK that month. According to G fangirls they parted after 2 months cos "he wasn't over Phoebe".

Andrew in Vanya until end of October 23. We know Paul saw Vanya at least twice.

2) Dec 23/Jan 24 Andrew and Paul hang out a lot, go on GN show like limpets. Baftas and all happened.

3) April 24, G announces she's recording new album The Secret of Us.

Andrew and Paul spotted in NY. Happy selfie.

4) 14th May 24 Gucci party. Andrew and Paul close again.

5) 16th June 24 Andrew turns up at NP marathon. Paul looks v happy to see him. Spotted heading home together.

6) June 21st 24 G's album released. That same day, P and G are seen together at miserable lunch.

7) June 27th 24 Andrew and Paul on AOUS panel. Lots of physical closeness. Confirmed dancing until dawn at Downlow.

8) July 13th 24 G plays Bristol and there are rumours that Paul met her afterwards and she came back to the Chiltern Firehouse to see him. Another spotting at a gig together that week. Basically there were a few little spottings during this week but they weren't viral. G leaves UK by 15th July.

Andrew at Kylie gig with JB. JB blabs A had "good fun at Glastonbury" about a week later.

9) August 24 Andrew and Paul not seen together since Glastonbury at the end of June. G and Paul papped.

Setting it out does make it look like maybe something happened at Glastonbury. Paul was unhappy about idea of coming out? Or he knew he wasn't going to and told Andrew?

He decided that weekend to get together with a girl who wrote an entire frigging album about him, and told Andrew? Or he decided in mid July that this was the direction he was going to take?

Or Andrew decided they weren't going to work out? But then, why is he talking to JB about "good time" if things went very wrong. Because things didn't go wrong until mid-July when Paul met up with G again?

End of June to mid-August is confusing.

Sorry for saga but I wanted to write it down. What's your ideas about all this?

Thank you so much for this. I am so lost and confused about this situation and the timeline. Of course, none of us actually know anything, but when did that stop us?

Well, we know Paul was out at gay bars with Andrew in October, holding his hand and being dragged to the dancefloor. Yeah, he saw the show at least twice and went out for his birthday and at least one other time. He was also spotted in gay bars multiple times.

Of course, Paul was rumoured to have been with 6 or 7 different women during this period as well. I am still not sold on Paul and Gracie being authentic, as the pap walks are obviously staged and the time in line with Gladiator 2 and the drug video. I am not saying they are fake, but the way this is presented to the public is not authentic which then makes me question things.

Yeah, I know think that he and Andrew spoke about this at Glastonbury and things changed that Saturday/Sunday. But also, Andrew has left heart emojis and Nell posted that super couply photo. I am not convinced that is done and I think we will see them again. I suspect it's all gone a bit quiet for promotional reasons but maybe that is just my Mescott delusion.

IDK about anyone else but Paul's whole look, mannerisms and even voice has changed since the Gladiator promo tour started?

[adhd-merlin]

@fairyhagmother Nell!! I have finished Bliss and Blunder. (did you get my ask the other day?) I meant to post some thoughts as I read it but I got engrossed in it on sunday and read most of it that day, so I thought I might as well wait till I finished it.

[this isn't a review or anything, just random thoughts. a stream of consciousness if you will. it's nearly 2.30am and I'm so -> LOL I'm re-reading this at 7.30am the next day and I literally fell asleep while typing this? like mid-sentence. ‘sleepy’ is what I meant to write obviously. I was adding this bit after writing the whole post so you can imagine how coherent it is]

some general thoughts (I'll keep anything above the cut spoiler-free):

it was a fun read! I was a bit wary of the constantly switching POV at first because inevitably there’s going to be some character I just don’t care much about and chapters from their POV will be a drag. but thankfully I cared about all characters here—some more than others, of course, but there was never a point where I was bored of reading about someone. the jumping between past and present worked well in keeping the tension up.

I wouldn’t have picked this book if it hadn’t been sold as an arthurian retelling (reworking?)—would I have enjoyed it as much if it hadn’t been one? would I have cared about arthur and gwen as much, had they been andrew and gabrielle? probably not, half the fun was picking up the nods to arthurian canon. at the same time, if these are meant to be arthurian characters, I’m not fully convinced by some elements of the transposition. 

the main one being—tech bro arthur. does it work? I’m not sure. yes, the wealth and power and admiration of his people are all there, and even arthur’s noble intentions, at least at first. the problem is that—with the exception of galahad, and possibly lancelot—the other knights become just… some guys. arthur’s nepo besties. 

*spoilers from here*

they’ve not done anything of note, have no special talent or skill, they're not even particularly loyal to arthur. he's bought their friendship, pretty much. there’s a chapter where morgan reflects on the meaning of chivalry, so the author must have considered it and I suppose it’s intentional, but still, are they even the same characters at this point?

not that it mattered that much—they were minor characters after all. I was just thinking about it. because if you tell the average person to think about king arthur the first thing they'll think of will be the round table.

I think the bond forged in battle between soldiers is the closest modern equivalent to the bond between arthurian knights, which is probably why lancelot and wayne feel closer to the characters they’re based on. 

they’re certainly nobler than arthur’s ‘court’. the hints to the ugliness hiding just below the civilised surface (like galahad being called ‘it’ at work, which arthur might or might not be aware of) were subtle and slightly unnerving, as was the facade cracking at the end (the ‘black bastard’ shout during the football match) before the truth about the sexual assaults came to light.

another missing element for me (if we want to call it that)— was merlin. where was he!! only hinted at twice towards the end. I would’ve liked to see him instead of falstaff. who was there for some reason.

what was the deal with him btw? why is he here. who invited him?? I wasn’t too annoyed by him because thankfully he wasn’t in it much, but he felt unnecessary to me. maybe because of my personal beef with henry iv. (well, beef isn’t quite the word—the fact is, I love my richards and my henry vi plays, but henry iv and v? they’re nothing to me. in the sense that I barely remember them. and falstaff—I don’t hate him, but I don’t feel any particular fondness towards him. I didn’t care about his silly goofy antics in henry iv and I cared even less here. but I know he's a beloved literary character so maybe it's just me. I just think if you're going to insert an odd, seemingly immortal old man into your arthurian novel, you might as well make him merlin).

I was glad the book didn’t devolve into a full murder mystery—I mean, yes, the mystery of Carly’s death was certainly an important element, but it didn’t overshadow the rest of the plot if it makes sense? it was still mostly driven by interpersonal conflicts, which I liked.

the reveal of the killer was all right. it didn’t exactly come out of the blue (though I briefly suspected lancelot or even arthur at some point). once it became clear it was one of the guys at the company I didn’t care about it that much? I was like, okay. can we get back to morgan and gwen please. but it was quickly resolved so. (the misogynist motive and tirade felt a bit facile, but I did not see the answer to Sir Gromer Somer Joure’s riddle coming. that was a nice touch.)

the description of gwen and morgan’s friendship and subsequent falling out was touching, and I think that’s the moment that actually pulled me into the story. it’s funny because last week some friends and I were talking about how women/girls often seem to have this tragic ‘breakups’ with their best friends which can be more dramatic than a romantic breakup. how it seems to be more of a female phenomenon (?) purely anecdotal of course, and something that never happened to me to this extent, but there you go.

I quite liked the author’s characterisation. I loved most characters, really.

(g)wayne!! struggling with anger management and internalised homophobia and WHAT on earth was that deal with the pub landlord. I mean, I understand what it’s based on, but? at first I thought ‘oh okay it’s a sex thing’. like kay said to arthur, ‘cuckolding is a thing’. but then the punch? I had surmised the lesson vern was trying to teach wayne at that point but still. so weird. personally I think wayne should’ve stayed with vern and lou as their third or something, but whatever. hope he has fun in vietnam.

galahad!! it would have been soooo easy to make gal accidentally insufferable (sanctimonious and holier-than-thou) but there’s something so earnest about them, they ended up being so sweet. going on an unprompted tirade about veganism and then apologising immediately after. thinking about nuking the internet because humans are the scourge of the earth. I love them.

lancelot my beloved. ptsd-riddled, unhealthily infatuated, melancholy and tragic. I don’t care how cheesy it is, you put in front of me a variation of lancelot and guinevere’s doomed love story and I lap it all up. the bit where the comet goes over abury and looks down at them in the car park and thinks ‘oh no you two, not again…’ (or whatever it was, I can’t be bothered to check now)—that bit made me a bit emotional? so cheesy, but like I said. yes please! I’ll have some more.

I wish we had seen a bit more of lancelot and arthur’s friendship instead of being told they were best friends, because they didn’t feel that close actually. yet arthur should be hurt by lancelot’s betrayal as much as gwen’s.

I loved gwen and mo’s relationship too. the two of them looking at arthur as a common enemy. mo, the perceptive child picking up on all the clues pointing to arthur’s emotional neglect towards him and his mom, and to lancelot’s love for guinevere, and picking gwen’s side. mo glueing gwen’s hand in the kitchen and picking up thrush med for her at boots.

arthur was fascinating, I liked him but was never quite sure what to think about him. seemingly good guy, all wrapped up in plausible deniability. It’s like I said… all around decent guy… excluding an incident or two. kay’s memory of arthur throwing his own computer from his window and letting kay take the blame was chilling, in context. but still, the hint of redemption at the end. I liked that he made up with mo and morgan, actually. I’m not sure I would’ve enjoyed a tragic ending. In fact, I want to believe that lancelot got to see gwen again, too. I want them to get a happily ever after, for once.

I liked the humour, more than a few sentences had me laughing out loud—‘like the diet coke man if he was on the spectrum’; arthur thinking gwen wasn’t much of a cook, which was comically petty in the midst of all that was going on; linnet and her legendary tits. I liked that the (mostly female) secondary character who provided some of the comic relief still retained some measure of dignity. I smiled at linnet and carly’s mom and gwen’s ex colleague, but in an affectionate way? they might be a bit silly but they don't come across as stupid, and even had their moments of wisdom.

I enjoyed the writing style, overall. I suppose, if I were to nitpick, the characters’ thoughts (and sometimes dialogue) felt at times slightly odd because it reflected the author’s style rather than… the character’s personality? am I making sense? there were a couple of instances where the writing drew attention to itself and made me go ‘she would not say/think that’. but for the most part it wasn’t an issue.

oooh sorry I’ve written so much and I’ve said nothing of substance. and now I’m getting a headache so I’m going to stop here I think. But yes I did enjoy the book, it was fun! 

it has also opened my third eye to the beautiful potential of mordred/galahad. sorry to be basic! but they were cute.

[random thought I don't know where to insert: was gwen's brother supposed to be agravaine? or inspired by him? because he said something like ‘and they call me aggro’ to gwen in one of the earliest flashback chapters, which I thought was a clue, but then nothing came of it? I think?]

anyway if there’s anything specific you want to know/discuss just ask, I’m happy to yap away :3 as you can see.

[what-if-queen-camilla]

Like grandfather, like grandson - Chapter 2

“And you really don't know what he's up to?” Virginia asked and looked at her flatmate in disbelief, but Camilla shookher head. “I tell you - I have no idea, not the slightest!” “But it sounds very serious…”, Virginia said, as she looked at the noble invitation card that a courier had brought earlier today once more. It was terribly fancy and elegant, even with The King’s cypher on it, but it only revealed a time when she’d be picked up by a driver and suggested that she’d be dressed in “day dress”, so it couldn’t be too serious, Camilla tried to soothe herself. She had been dating Charles for about six months now and though she had always been really fond of him, it had taken her a while to realise that she was actually in love with the young Prince. A part of her still tried to deny it but deep in her heart, she knew it was true. Previously, she had been on and off with Andrew for almost five years; she had been head over heels in love with him and therefore forgiven him all of his escapades, the endless “slips” and the notorious cheating, but when she had caught him in flagrante with none other than Princess Anne at the edge of a polo match at Windsor Castle in one of the stables last summer, it had been enough humiliation for her. She had lost it completely and in a very strange twist of fate, that crying little mess she had turned into after her painful discovery, had bumped into none other than Prince Charles. She had been incredibly embarrassed at first, but he had been so wonderful, had taken her into his arms, held and comforted her lovingly and didn't even ask questions. In fact, he hadn't until now and she was more than grateful for it. Since that day, they had started seeing each other regularly. Charles had taken her out for walks, rides, the theatre and opera, they had been hunting together and he even took an interest in her drawings (though she herself considered them terrible, quite in contrast to his…), he had encouraged her to take proper classes which she had actually done and enjoyed immensely… he had shown her a whole new world and introduced her to so many things she hadn't been open to beforehand. Andrew had only ever taken her to dinners, parties or to the polo but Charles was so knowledgeable and interested in so many different things, it was mind-blowing really, he was mind-blowing, and before she could've thought about anything twice, she had found herself head over heels in love with the young Prince. Her sister was already teasing her, calling her “Your Royal Highness” but marrying Charles was out of the question for her. As much as she loved him and as happy as he made her - he needed and deserved a wife literally “fit for Queen” - and that was not her. If only he wasn't a future King, she could've come to terms with an Earl or a Marquess perhaps, but a Prince? The mere imagination almost frightened her to death. “Goodness, Virginia, I hope he doesn't have any… ideas…” 

Camilla couldn’t quite believe her eyes as the car that had picked her up actually drove through the main gates of Windsor Castle about 45 minutes later. She had never been here before, at least not inside of the Castle and suddenly felt incredibly underdressed in her cute, knee-length dark blue velvet gown, but she had dressed exactly in accordance with the dress code on the mysterious invitation. The car slowly made its way up to the quadrangle and eventually stopped in front of the main entrance, and her heart beated like mad as she got out of the car and followed an equerry through the main entrance - where her Prince was already waiting for her and greeted her with an affectionate kiss, which she, however, joined only reluctantly given the presence of the servant, who, thank goodness, discreetly disappeared. “Hello my beautiful darling.” Charles smiled tenderly and his loving and admiring eyes all over her gave her a thousand little butterflies immediately. “Hello you.” She replied softly and gently patted his bum which made him laugh. “What have I done to deserve an invitation to such an exclusive place?” She asked, looking at him in expectation, but he just smiled and softly whispered: “I wanted to show you something which I'm sure you'll love.” Before he playfully took her by the hand and guided her through the corridors of the ancient castle. Camilla didn't even know where to look at, it was simply incredible to be wandering through the mediaeval walls and to think of all the historic people, the Kings and Queens of long gone centuries, who'd been wandering around here just like that before, until Charles stopped in front of a huge door, asking her to close her eyes. She was a bit afraid of what might happen but she loved and trusted him so she did as requested while he tenderly placed both of his hands on her shoulders, carefully and slowly guiding her into the next room. 

Though Camilla didn’t cheat and kept her eyes closed tightly, she sensed the sunlight possibly shining through a huge window front and a slightly woody, smokey and earthy smell which almost drove her mad with excitement and curiosity. Where was he taking her and what did he want to show her? “Careful, darling, here’s a table…”, he said and gently helped her walk around, until he finally motioned her to stop and turned her around. “Alright, darling.”, he whispered and she could literally hear his loving smile just by the way he had said this. “Open your eyes…” She immediately did as requested and found herself in front of an old and obviously priceless, wooden desk with a huge, and apparently just as old and priceless book with a thick red leather binding, gilded with the most exquisite ornaments of gold in each corner. “This is Charles I’s copy of ‘The Complete Works of Shakespeare.”, Charles explained and reverently stroked over the red leather binding. “Oh… Wow… Goodness me!” Camilla exclaimed breathlessly, desperately trying to realise what an incredible piece of history was lying just in front of her. “It was read and annotated by my ancestor while he was imprisoned during the Civil War here at Windsor Castle.”, he went on, carefully taking her hand and placing it on the book cover as well. The leather felt incredibly beneath her finger tips and Camilla couldn’t even grasp what treasure she was touching right now. “He was reading it more or less up until he was executed.”, Charles went on and carefully opened the book, unerringly turning to the contents page. “Darling, look, here’s where he started writing in characters.”, her Prince whispered, once again, solemnly touching the original handwriting of his ancestor - and there were, indeed, characters from some of the works written next to the respective play. “That… is his handwriting?”, Camilla asked, completely overwhelmed and unbelieving as she marvelled at the pages. “It is.”, the Prince confirmed and she couldn’t believe how beautiful and accurate the former monarch’s handwriting was.

“What’s this about, darling, ‘Benedick and Beatrice?” She asked, regarding a handwritten note from King Charles I next to the listing of Shakespeare’s “Oh.” Charles cleared his throat. “That was an alternative title for ‘Much ado about nothing.’ And, look, here he wrote ‘Pyramus and Thisbe’ next to ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He excitedly showed her and Camilla frowned her forehead. “But they’re such… Quite minor characters if I may say so.”, she remarked and he agreed: “It’s strange, isn’t it?”, he replied and  suddenly suggested: “Why don't you read a bit from that piece?” They’d been talking about it, she knew he loved it just as much as she did and so she happily agreed. “Okay…” Leaving him turning to the respective page.. Eventually, she reached Act 2, Scene 1, dramatically reciting Helena: “I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well.” When, suddenly, her Prince took her hand and got down on his knee. “My sweet, beautiful darling Camilla…”, he began, and had her all teared up immediately. Of course she knew what was going to come next… what she had been dreading and at the same time longing for ever since that one fateful day back in June… “‘I'll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, To die upon the hand I love so well’ - Darling, there is only one hand I’d ever want to die upon because I love it so well - and that’s yours. Ever since I’ve met you - or rather: ever since we’ve been a couple - my life has become so much lighter and happier, everything seems more joyful and brighter, now, that I can share it with you. Camilla, Darling, I want to share everything with you. I want to be with you every day, every night, I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see before I fall asleep at night… I want you to be my wife, my Princess, and, so God will, one day, my Queen!” With that, he pulled out a little black velvet jewellery box, reverently opening it. Camilla, who had meanwhile got down on her knees in shock and emotion as well, couldn’t quite believe her eyes when she eventually acknowledged the priceless ring her Prince was offering her… “Camilla, will you marry me?”, he finally asked solemnly and she felt as if somebody was choking her. This ring, and this whole atmosphere was just…. perfect. They were anything any girl could ever dream of - but she was not one of these girls. She was not… worth it. She’d had boyfriends before and certainly broke more than just a handful of rules throughout her youth and her sweet, lovely and gorgeous Prince, no matter how cute and innocent he was, could not possibly seriously ask her this question. “Charles, Darling, listen I…”, she started with an insecure voice. “I love you, I, I really do! But I can’t marry you… I’m not… What you’re looking for. I could never be the wife you need and deserve…” And with this, she pushed the ring back into his hands, her own hands shaking. She was so confused and actually had to hold back some tears. This was all way too much and way too unexpected. But way too wonderful, too. Her mind was so confused.

[blooming-violets]

Sorry this is gonna be a bit of a rant since it’s something I’ve had strong feelings about since joining the AG/TASM fanfic part of the internet, and you’ve provided me a great opportunity to talk about it.

As a trans person, I am BEGGING fanfic writers to stop writing Marauders stuff. I’ve seen so many people defend it with “separate art from the artist” but like it or not they are still supporting JKR. Separating art from the artist only really works when the artist can’t profit from it. She has done SO MUCH harm to trans people and particularly trans youth in the UK and it’s so fucking disheartening and gives me such an ick when I see TASM writers also write for Marauders because it truly comes across as “I love and support the trans community except when it comes to this because I like it.”.

Even if you ignore the transphobia and holocaust denial (YES IM SERIOUS, she’s denied parts of the holocaust at LEAST twice and she literally did it a second time the other day), the original writing is so fucking problematic. Things just off the top of my head being;

The goblins being stereotypes of Jewish people

The fucking racism with characters like Cho Chang and Kingsley Shacklebolt

The last Fantastic Beasts movie’s plot literally being trying to make WW2 and the holocaust happen

This point needs to be taken with a grain of salt since this was some bullshit Joanne said after the books came out, but werewolves in the universe being meant to represent people with aids. Which is so fucking awful considering one of the two werewolves was attacked by the other as a CHILD

The most ironic part of this is that if Andrew is truly the person he presents himself as, he would probably fucking despise being associated with HP, even if it is just a fancast. But yeah all this to say fuck JKR, fuck Marauders fans but also thank you so much Katie for that last anon answer because I genuinely don’t see that enough in this corner of the internet.

Even Daniel Radcliffe, Harry Potter himself, has spoken out against her and continues to loudly support the LGBTQ+ communities. When your own beloved Harry doesn't even want to stand by your side, you should know you fucked up. Sadly, she does not, and instead leans harder into her bigotry and hatred.

I've always been someone who is very loud and opinionated when I see things that I disagree with, which I know can rub some people the wrong way, but fuck it. I don't like to whisper about my issues on the sidelines, I like to confront the problem head on by being very clear about where I stand and how I feel. I'm not gonna sit around and let someone align me with JKR just because I'm writing a stupid werewolf and Peter Parker fic that exactly 5 people are reading lol. It's not even a popular fic like get out of my asks jfc. Esp when I can tell this person has not read a single sentence of my story and is completely basing their judgements on my header image of AG's face next to a wolf gif.

In this past week I have seen both a Steven Harrington werewolf au and a Daredevil werewolf au cross my dash. Do we think they're getting called out for supporting HP?? No. Because their actors weren't "fan casted" as something years ago. Fan casts don't even mean anything! There was never a movie about them. AG was never casted or played this role. It's literally nothing but a bunch of fans agreeing that they like his look for a fictional character.

Anyway, I'm also ranting back at you haha. You can rant to me anytime. I love a good rant and I agree with you 100%.

Werewolves were not created by JKR. Andrew Garfield has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Don't make make snap judgments about a person's character based on a picture you saw. Support your trans community. Don't be dick.

And, if they actually read my werewolf au, they would see that it's literally about learning to overcome your own hatred and biases of people different from you and learning to love those you were taught to hate. Crazy concept, I know! 🙄😉

[decaflondonfog]

ten first lines ✨

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

i feel like i did this a few months back but with wips rather than posted works (?) i can't find any evidence of it because tumblr is a black hole lmao kiiiiiiiiiiiinda worrying because my memory is bad and i haven't written that much sooooo there's a chance i've done this exact thing before? i'm a mess, sorry!!!! thank you to my sweet @nv-md for tagging me on this though! i'm passing it along to @moondal514 @nanatsuyu @thetrojeans @sillyunicorn @mostlymaudlin and @jaywalkers, if you guys fancy doing it <3

a stark trail of blood on fresh snow | aftg, riko/neil, M, 12k

Neil Josten hadn’t been born with the gift of prophecy, but when he woke up abruptly in the middle of the night, he knew that was the last time he’d ever see the bed he’d been sleeping on for a few years now — ever since his mother disappeared into the dead of night, much like he was about to.

transferable skills | aftg, jeremy/jean, E, 11k

In the first six months of Jean Moreau wearing gold and red instead of black and red, the USC Exy team is given their first ever seven yellow cards.

the fear (of living in headlights, the hunted, the deer) | aftg, andrew/neil, M, 2k

The first time you meet him is on the best day of your life.

do not disturb the cats | aftg, kevin/andrew, E, 3k

They’ve been kissing against the kitchen counter for… well, Kevin’s lost track of time, really. 

growing pains | omgcp, bitty/parse, E, 50k

In the beginning, everything that can possibly go wrong goes wrong.

by wand or by knife | carry on, simon/baz, M, 1k

When Baz asked me not to make any plans for today, I didn’t question it. 

the benefits of a broken air conditioning unit and other summer lessons | aftg, andrew/neil, E, 3k

The curtains don’t quite reach the windowsill in the bedroom Neil and Andrew share.

a wreath of white lilies | aftg, kevin/allison, E, 4k

There is not enough waterproof mascara in the world, is the thought I’ve been playing inside my head, on a loop, for at least sixty hours now.

kaleidoscope | aftg, fem!andreil, M, 5k

Red. Blue. Green. Yellow. Purple.

celly | aftg, gen, T, 800 words

There are times in which Andrew thinks he could potentially enjoy Exy.

ooooooof. what have we learned? that i need to chill when it comes to both titles and first lines because some of these are stupidly LONG. my god. otherwise idk really? i think "do not disturb" and "benefits" have my favourite openers. the openers for both "benefits" AND "kaleidoscope" are motifs that get repeated all throughout the fic, it's fun to realise i've done that twice in a short period of time!!! "celly" in general i think is my fave of all of these fics and i'm very very fond of that line, even if i think it isn't super strong as an opening line. i can't find a pattern for these at all. some are very punchy, some are nothing, some are super exposition heavy... variety, baby!!!!!! lol

[she-karev]

Mama Bear (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Imagine)

Previous Chapter Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Three

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Canon Season and Episode: Season 19 episode 9

AN: Hey guys, here’s the final chapter, be warned there is a pretty intense verbal fight ahead if your in the mood for a good scrap. The GIF above is Amber's outfit for the dinner party I hope you enjoy.

Summary: Amber and Andrew go have dinner with Owen, Teddy, Ben and Bailey that quickly turns sour as they fight with Altman and Hunt.

Words: 4965

January 13th, 2023

I walk out of my closet wearing my navy-blue blazer dress over my black lingerie and gold heels clacking the hard wood floors of our bedroom. My long blonde hair is down and wavy with an extra fluff to stand out. My makeup is done especially well with coral lipstick, nude eyeshadow and cat eyeliner. I’m in front of the oval standing mirror next to the closet in our bedroom putting the buttons through the loops so it can close fully. The dress is long sleeved, double breasted with big gold buttons and it reaches my knees giving me a businesswoman with style kind of look.

Andrew is still in the walk-in closet getting ready and I realize I forgot something, “Hey babe? Can you grab me a belt on your way out? It’s the gold one with a lot of circles.”

He comes out two seconds later in his blue thermal shirt with his leather jacket on and dark jeans. He tosses me the belt I asked for and I put it on completing my look sensing my husband’s eyes leering at me.

“Wow you look like a million bucks.”

I groan at how this dress is tighter on me post baby, “I feel like a million bucks stuffed inside a mini-Coach wallet. If there’s dessert we’re leaving because I’m afraid one piece of carb will make this dress pop and then Hunt won’t be mad about the ear after I gave him a peek at the goods.”

“You look gorgeous and that dress is tight in all the right areas, don’t worry.”

I walk toward him and give him a grateful kiss, “Your sweet. I wish we wouldn’t have to go to this thing but I’m desperate for human interaction even if it’s hosted by the parents of the child who bit ours. Twice.” I walk to the bed putting my things in my black crossbody still feeling mad at Hunt for allowing his daughter to bite mine again. I thought the ear pinching would soothe my anger but it didn’t.

Andrew looks at me slightly amused and slightly worried, “Will you try to behave? And leave Hunt with at least one good ear?”

I sigh but comply, “For you yes I will.” Carina walks inside the bedroom in her pajamas carrying Lucy in her arms, “Hey thanks so much for babysitting again.”

“Oh, it’s no problem it’s gonna be a fun night with me and Lucy isn’t that right booboo?” Carina babbles at the baby who stares at her blankly. She turns back to us with a smile, “I’ll call you if there’s any problems and I left the ringer on in case you call.”

I nod, “Okay I left breast milk in the fridge in case she gets hungry, she loves her little green dragon but in case she loses it we have about 10 more in the closet and I changed her about half an hour ago. Also, if she gets difficult just turn on-”

“Moana and sing along to her.” Carina repeats with a grin, “I know everything there is to know about babies cognata. Remember that you have two sister in laws who are OB’s.”

“Exactly I mean she’s basically Mary Poppins with a medical degree.” Andrew says to reassure me and turns me to face him, “She’ll be fine with her Zia Carina for the next two hours, maybe even three if we’re feeling crazy. We have about 18 years to go, let’s have at least one night as a couple instead of parents. Okay babe?”

I sigh and look at Lucy who looks content in Carina’s arms who nods reassuringly. I’m still worried but I know I need one night with my husband before I forget what I felt like pre baby, “Okay let’s hurry while I’m still brave come on let’s go.” Andrew quickly hands me my black coat and grabs the car keys. I stand in front of Carina and lean down to face Lucy with a smile, “Okay sweetie mommy and daddy will be back have fun with your Zia we love you.” I kiss her head and Andrew does the same.

“Love you bambina.” Andrew rushes me out of the house, no doubt thinking I’ll change my mind and turn around. And he was right to as every cell in my body aches with each step I take and not just from being away from my child for the night. I get the feeling that something really bad is about to happen at dinner.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew and I exited the car parked outside of Owen and Teddy’s house. I carried the roasted peppers in a glass dish that Andrew made for the Hunt’s despite my insistence it wasn’t what they deserved. He already finished making them though so it was either eat it with them or throw it away and I am not one to waste good food. We spot Ben and Bailey walking down the sidewalk a few feet away from us, also carrying a dish.

“Hey.” They greet us back, “You brought something too?”

Bailey nods with a grin, “Yes ma’am apple pie my mother’s recipe what about you?”

“Roasted peppers on olive with lots of garlic.” Andrew goads as we walk with them, “You haven’t known what true Italian dishes taste like until you tried my peppers.”

“Trust me he’s not being arrogant he’s stating facts. The smell alone takes you to the land of pasta. I just wish we weren’t sharing that with Hunt and Altman two hours after their kid bit our kids.” I bitterly add.

“Yeah, that makes two of us.” Ben agrees, “It better be a good spread they have because I am holding as much back as I can.”

“Well at least you get to drink through this nightmare.” I groan, “I’m breastfeeding and I don’t want to risk damaging my baby with copious amounts of wine and vodka laced in her milk. Unfortunately, Altman doesn’t have to worry about that because I can smell the wine in her liver already.”

Ben chuckles, “And the rage in the air when she and Hunt are in the same room.”

“If this night goes bad, can you pull a Backdraft and start a fire so we can escape the dumpster fire that is a dinner with Hunt and Altman?”

“Were our spouses this grouchy when we decided to marry them?” Andrew asks Bailey who chuckles.

“Mine wasn’t but I think we both know the answer about yours.” We stop outside the door where Andrew rings the doorbell and Owen Hunt answers.

“Ben, Bailey, DeLuca’s. Enter at your own risk.” I try to keep a pleasant face as I enter the house with Andrew where Teddy greets us.

“Come on in.” She notices the dishes we brought, “Oooh look at that.”

Bailey hands her the dish, “Apple pie, my mother’s recipe. Maybe you can think of it when you are approving budget requests for the clinic.”

Andrew chuckles, “And I brought roasted peppers to start as appetizers.”

“Thank you, you shouldn’t have.”

I fake chuckle, “No we really shouldn’t have.” I thrust the dish against Owen’s stomach roughly and he takes it with a groan. I noticed that his right ear is bandaged at the top with gauze due to my handiwork from this afternoon. The sight gives me a sick sort of satisfaction that I keep to myself and Owen clears his throat to converse with Ben instead as we hang our coats.

“Hey, I heard there were some fires down in south Seattle. You been on those?”

“Uh, no, no, no. Uh, we have a little girl now, so I sit the crazy stuff out.”

Teddy laughs, “That never stopped Owen.” I grin slightly at his wife also giving him a hard time.

Owen looks peeved but grins, “Ah, please excuse her. She's exhausted after one day of the job that you and I did for years.”

“And how did that work out for you career wise?” I ask venomously with Andrew clicking his tongue no doubt feeling awkward.

Teddy purses her lips but keeps being the host, “Wine?”

“Uh, by wine, can you mean bourbon?” Bailey asks.

“Good idea.” Owen and Teddy walk to the kitchen and we follow.

“Cheese and crackers are on the coffee table.” Altman informs us.

“Oh, fantastic.” Ben says, “I'd love a bite.” I snort at his use of that word causing Bailey to smack us both on the arm telling us to knock it off. I keep a straight face as I enter into the belly of the beast.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tension is still in the air even as we sit comfortably in the living room waiting for the chicken to come out of the oven. We’re sitting on the couch next to Warren and Bailey with Owen and Teddy sitting across from each other in the armchairs. We’re talking about the challenges of parenthood and I try as hard as I can to keep the biting incident to myself even as I talk about what raising a baby has been like for us so far.

“I feel like a cow.” Andrew chuckles at that, “Oh you think it’s funny I’m a baby’s own personal soda fountain? Be glad you got the Y chromosome buddy because your body is still the same and you don’t have hormones to mess your mind up as well.”

“Well, I have bipolar disorder so I know a thing or two about adjusting bodies and messed up minds.”

“He’s got you there DeLuca.” Hunt tells me.

“Yeah, you don’t give an opinion here.” I snap and Hunt frowns at that as I continue, “You two ladies have already done this how long is it gonna take before my boobs come back to normal.”

“Never.” They both answer in unison.

I whimper at that, “I mean don’t get me wrong she’s my daughter, I love her and I’m glad I had her. I just really miss my perfect boxing body.”

“Hey, come on you still have it.” My husband holds my hand in comfort that I appreciate.

“How is Lucy doing anyway?” My mood turns sour at Hunt’s question, “Is she with a babysitter?”

I glare at Hunt who looks uncomfortable at my obvious disdain that Andrew notices and decides to intervene with an answer, “Um no, my sister is living with us while she and her wife are separated. She’s watching Lucy right now. I think she’s trying to fill the void of having an estranged wife with being an aunt. I mean don’t get me wrong I’m glad she’s helping I just didn’t expect to raise my baby with my wife and sister. Which now that I say it out loud is wrong and incestuous.”

“Well hey I grew up in a hell house I wish I had a hot, cool aunt to spend time with me.”

Andrew looks at me with a raised eyebrow, “Hot?”

I roll my eyes, “Come on your sister is a knockout I’m not gonna deny what’s obvious. Will I do anything? Hell no. I just think it’s nice for my daughter to have what I didn’t, someone by her side. I mean God knows there are kids in this life that are gonna attack her and make her feel less worthy than she is because those kids are either dicks or their parents are.” I turn to Hunt so he knows what I’m talking about, “Isn’t that right Hunt?”

Hunt sips his bourbon with a frown as the others sit around awkwardly after I called out the elephant in the room, “Well I’m still a little woozy from the blood loss due to my ear being pinched through so what do I know?”

“Not much as it’s been shown recently.” I grin maliciously with Andrew next to me tapping his fingers against my thigh clearly uncomfortable.

Teddy chuckles awkwardly, “Yep I definitely should have brought more wine.”

Bailey speaks up, “Okay people we are here to have dinner as friends and as coworkers but as of late some things have happened that have caused both of your families to be in the middle of a slight conflict. We need to clear the air and get it all sorted and get it out there before the oven dings because I for one am in the mood for a night without children present.”

“Absolutely, I completely agree.” Andrew nods looking at me as I stare at the coffee table for a moment before nodding, “Okay so how should we start?”

Bailey clears her throat and turns to her husband, “Ben do you want to be mediator?”

Ben coughs out his bourbon he was sipping and looks at Bailey surprised, “Me?”

“Yes you.” Bailey confirms with a ‘duh’ tone, “Diane trained you to talk to people through much more dire situations than this didn’t she?”

“She did and conflict resolution was a part of the Crisis One training.”

“Well there you go so…” Bailey motions to the four of us and Ben looks around awkwardly before starting.

“Um well you four have known each other for years and you respect each other and even consider yourselves friends so let’s remind you of that. Amber?” I look at Ben who speaks in a mediator tone, “You always say that your grateful to Hunt and Altman for saving DeLuca’s life that day because you would not have married him and had a beautiful baby girl with him if they did any less.”

I remember that day clearly as it was one of the worst days of my life. We were broken up at the time but it didn’t change how I felt about him it just changed how I viewed him. I felt terror and anxiety when I got that call and waited for five agonizing hours while he was in the O.R. when they came to me and told me he made it I felt like singing hallelujah! I am extremely grateful to them as Bailey reminded me and my resentment lessens just a tiny bit.

“…Yeah, I might have said that a time or two.” I admit.

“And we all know your not a flatterer and don’t kiss up to attendings like normal residents.” Andrew smirks at that as Ben continues, “So can we assume that came from the heart?”

I press my lips together as I admit once more, “It did.” Hunt looks at me grateful for that.

“And Hunt.” Ben turns to Owen, “You’ve expressed on more than one occasion that DeLuca when she was She-Karev was one the most promising and intelligent residents you’ve seen in her class?”

“Well there wasn’t a doubt about it.” I look at him touched, “And I’m not just saying that because Glasses was also in her class.” We chuckle at that memory.

“Okay good there we go.” Ben grins and pours more bourbon telling us he’s done to my surprise.

“That’s it?” Bailey asks and Ben looks up at us.

“We kind of thought you were just getting started.” I explain with a chuckle.

Ben shrugs, “Well Miranda wanted this spat resolved before the oven dings so I decided to rush it and besides it seems like you both got your digs in so your even.”

Teddy hmm’s, “Okay so I guess you skipped the conflict resolution part of your training. And besides Allison is three she didn’t know what she was doing biting happens. I was gonna have my husband talk to her and make sure this doesn’t happen again but as of late he’s skimmed on his adult responsibilities.”

I scoff, “The way you bite your husbands head off I can see where she would get the habit from.”

Teddy sighs, “Amber, I apologize for what Allison did and I promise you I will try to keep this from happening again.”

Andrew steps in surprising me, “Mmm that’s what you said last time and I have a feeling you were too busy hating your husband to do something about your problem child.”

Teddy stops sipping her wine to look at him offended, “What did you just call my daughter?”

“A problem child.” Andrew repeats this time sternly, “A child who is difficult to control and discipline and your kid fits that description after she bit both of our daughters. Twice.” Teddy scoffs at the insult, “Am I saying things that aren’t true or did someone else sink her little teeth into our five-month-old baby? Have our frustrations not been clear?”

“Well, your wife made her frustrations clear when she almost tore my husband’s ear off.”

“Are you jealous I did it before you could?” I coldly ask Altman who widens her eyes and I turn to Hunt to vent as well, “And you know what Hunt? You didn’t give me much choice when you weren’t willing to have an adult conversation but I guess you’d have to be an adult to do that instead of acting like a child.”

“Oh, I’m a child?” Hunt asks frustrated, “You called my daughter a devil spawn and brat does that sound like being an adult DeLuca?”

“You what?!” Teddy exclaims in shock and I turn to her ready to tear her down.

“Because she was being a brat and devil spawn!” Teddy’s mouth gapes at my brutal honesty as I continue, “How do you expect me to react when your child attacked mine?!”

“Okay people let’s calm down please.” Bailey tries to mediate but it falls on deaf ears as we’re too busy fighting.

“We apologized DeLuca you don’t want it to hear it and accept it that is on you.” Hunt coldly tells me.

“Your gonna lecture her on accountability? Really?”  Andrew asks mockingly, “You bitch every hour and every day to your wife about how you lost your job after you committed murder! You think you have the high ground when it comes to taking responsibility really?”

“That wasn’t murder!” Hunt explains in anger and I roll my eyes at him ranting again, “I did what I did to give soldiers who were denied proper medical care after serving their country and getting sick as a result the chance at a dignified death instead of slowly dying in pain in a hospital bed and leaving their families with more debt! Do you want me to be sorry for that?”

I hit a breaking point as I slap the coffee table in anger, “OH MY GOD! I…” I take a deep inhale to control myself, “You have not said one thing that none of us in this room or the hospital don’t already know Hunt so listen with your good ear when I tell you to shut up!”

Teddy speaks up, “Amber, watch the tone you use with my husband because as mad as I am at him-”

“You shut up too!” Teddy quiets and looks shocked at me turning on her now, “You’ve been bitching at him nonstop since the day you guys came back and believe me it hasn’t been easy.”

“Well, you know what I am sorry that I am angry DeLuca!” Teddy yells, “Our lawyers bankrupted us because of my husband so I am sorry if that can make a woman lash out at her idiot of a husband!”

“Oh, just say it again Teddy!” Owen yells after that insult.

I scoff at this display with DeLuca stepping in angry as well, “No Altman what you and Hunt should be sorry for is for turning into a couple of toxic, self-absorbed, rage consumed assholes that none of us can even stand to be around anymore!”

I clap in solidarity, “Preach it honey!”

Ben clears his throat as he and his wife listen clearly uncomfortable, “Okay you guys come on let’s just-”

“I mean at this point with you two fighting nonstop Allison is gonna spend a decade on a therapists couch wondering why she can’t form a healthy relationship and that will be because of you two.” Andrew scoffs and continues, “I mean is it any wonder with parents like you two why your kid is so screwed up?”

Altman sips her wine before narrowing her eyes at us, “Oh and you two want to talk about screwed up kids? I mean how do you think Lucy will feel when she finds out what genes she’s inheriting from both of your sides? Or how her daddy went insane in front of the whole surgical floor?”

“Excuse me!” Andrew bellows out next to me and I react quickly. I stood up and grabbed the glass of wine right out of her hand to throw it in her face in pure rage causing her to gasp. I’m too busy tearing Altman down to see the others’ reactions but I can guess their shocked.

“Amber!” Owen admonishes me but I ignore it.

I put the glass down the coffee table with a hard clink and point a finger at her as she processes being doused in white wine, “You will never, NEVER! Talk about my family like that or so help me Altman I will destroy you! My husband has bipolar disorder and he works hard to treat it. Yeah, he made mistakes but he tried to save a child from a human trafficker while you let the whole hospital hear you whoring yourself to a neurosurgeon while you were engaged.” Altman looks at me shocked but stays quiet, “And yeah, I’m screwed up, I’m a product of my upbringing. I’m a bitch, I acknowledge that. I had to be a bitch to survive my life growing up. A crazy mom, crazy brother, foster care, private high school I have had to be a bitch to survive all of that but now I am not a bitch for the sake of surviving anymore, now I am a bitch for the sake of my family. I know that and I am proud of that and do not apologize for how I reacted at your husband when your little brat bit my baby and when you just shamed my husband for his mental illness. And you know Altman you can judge all you want but I would rather be a protective bitch than-”

Owen tries to stop me again, “Thin ice here Amber very thin!”

I ignore him again so I can continue, “I would rather be a protective bitch than a sad, angry, pathetic drunk stuck in a dead marriage who was second choice for chief and third choice for a wife!” Altman is stunned in silence at my rant with tears glistening in her eyes that don’t incite pity in me. I turn to Andrew who is still sitting there with a blank face clearly agreeing with my rant as he didn’t step in at all. I notice Hunt barely spoke up confirming my points of her deteriorating marriage as he didn’t try to stop me while I was attacking his wife, “We’re leaving.” Andrew nods and stands up to follow me as we get our dish and coats so we can leave the house with our heads held high after the dumpster fire blew up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We sat in the car in silence with the engine off trying to reel from the events of five minutes ago.  I exhale as my nerves die down from giving Hunt and Altman a piece of my mind. I can sense Andrew also trying to mentally recover from the dinner that never was. He’s in the driver’s seat rubbing his temples before speaking first.

“Well, that was fun.”

I chuckle lightly, “Yeah I think I really won the new chief over with that wine to her face.”

“It was a very iconic drink to the face moment.” Andrew grins and holds my hand, “How bad do you think it’s gonna be tomorrow?”

I groan at that reminder that we have to work with them tomorrow, “How about we take Lucy, get on a plane and live out the rest of our days in Bora Bora? We can run a clinic there and never have to worry about crazy white people ever again.”

Andrew laughs at that suggestion, “That would be nice but I’m pretty sure your brother and my sister would kill us for leaving them to deal with the Hunt’s who will take their frustrations on us out on them.” He leans over to kiss me in comfort, “We’ll be okay babe. I mean we’ve handled a lot worse than an angry chief. We can survive anything as long as we’re together. That’s the advantage we have over Hunt and Altman and we can handle anything they dish out at us.”

I look at him in awe over his ability to ease my worries even after I insulted the chief in her own home. I cradle his face brushing my thumb across his stubbly cheek, “I love you.”

He grabs my hand from his cheek and turns his face to kiss my palm, “I love you.” He turns to the road and starts the engine, “Are you ready for a night of Moana with Lucy while she drinks breastmilk again?”

I grin at that before an idea comes to me, “Actually can we make a stop.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door opens revealing Alex inside the house in his casual wear surprised to see us on the other side of the door holding the peppers we were originally going to eat at the Hunts. I grin at him and see Jo approaching the door holding Luna also looking at us surprised.

“Hey guys.”

“Hi.” Alex looks at the dish I’m holding and back at me, “Is there a reason you guys came to my house at 11 and brought a plate of peppers?”

Andrew tsks, “It’s a long story but basically, we need a night to hang out with adult friends and no children present. The last ones we were with were…less than welcoming.” Alex raises an eyebrow, “We’ll explain more, can we come in and eat this dish with you guys? We kind of have to fill the time somehow and your our best option.”

Jo steps forward, “Who are we to turn down free food? Come in, let’s talk in the kitchen.” I thank Jo as we entered their house feeling safer here than we did at the Hunt’s.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And then I called her a sad, pathetic drunk who was chosen second for chief and third for wife. And then we left.” I finish telling the story as we sit around the dining room table eating the peppers with French bread and red wine that I’m not drinking opting for mineral water. We got to eating and talking once Jo put Luna down to sleep in her room. Jo and Alex look shocked at my last insult as they chew the food.

“Wow I wish I could’ve seen that.” Jo says, “So her exact words were Lucy might get the crazy gene since her dad went insane? She said that?”

“Yep.” Andrew confirms bitter as he sips his wine, “I was there and so were Ben and Bailey, you can ask them and they’ll say the same thing.”

Alex shakes his head at that clearly as mad as I was, “Now I kind of wish I took the chief job, then you wouldn’t be in danger of getting abused or fired.”

I shake my head at that, “Well to be fair how would you have known your sister was gonna go all ballistic on the chief of cardio after she insulted my family?”

“I think you let her off easy after what she said.” Jo says and I realize as a person who suffers bouts of depression she also feels triggered by Teddy’s comment like Andrew. I look at them in sympathy and decide to point out what me and Alex already know.

“You know neither of you are insane right?” I tell my husband and sister-in-law who look surprised by my change of subject, “You had mental health problems but you faced them and you’re better. It doesn’t make you weak if anything it makes you stronger.”

Alex nods holding Jo’s hand and looking at her with love and support, “Damn straight. Altman wouldn’t know how to face her problems if it bit her in the ass. Don’t listen to what she said and don’t believe it.”

Jo scoffs offended, “Well it was a new low of hers and that is saying something. It makes me wish I was there when you threw that drink in her face. I wish you recorded it.”

“It was very iconic it was like a fight at my family reunion.” Andrew says with a grin and I lightly push him, “Are you sure you’re not Italian?”

“Only by marriage.” I shove a whole slice of bread with a pepper in my mouth moaning in satisfaction at the taste and texture, “They really did not deserve these peppers.”

“Nope, not one bit.” Alex agrees with his mouth full, “It kind of makes me wish I married into an Italian family.”

Jo nods taking a bite of the bread, “Me too. So, what’s the plan after tonight? Are you gonna ask Avery for a face transformation or are you gonna take a really extended vacation?”

I sigh and remember what my husband said to me, “I don’t know but we will figure it out together. Besides what is she gonna do fire us? I’ll just go over her head and gang up on her with my attending brother, sister and husband.” They look at me amused, “It’s the one time I would use nepotism in my favor.” I hold up my water for them to clink their wine glasses against it as we enjoy this impromptu dinner party of ours.

[lustnluv]

devil night - angel and john b

three years ago

angel

the car stopped after at least twenty minutes. two minutes ago we switched from a smooth road to one of gravel.

not gonna lie it was hard to be quiet when i hit my head once or twice.

i heard all the car doors around me slammed and the talking and giggles and shouts of everyone who was invited to this part of the party.

at least for now.

i knew as soon as school was over there was gonna be the rest of the parking lot here. everyone is ready to see what the horseman got in store for us tonight. no one was going to mess this out and i for sure didn’t want to either.

as soon as the area around me quieted down, i got out the car and see where i was.

forest. forest. forest and cars.

the old church. saint peter’s.

destroyed by hurricanes over the years, it stood there like an homage to the old outer banks. it was beautiful in a haunting way with its blow out windows and stone walls that were mostly up, touching the tree tops.

fixing myself up, i walked in and immediately spotted jj without his mask and shirt fighting with a kid. a crowd surrounded them, cheering them on. it wasn’t serious judging by the smile on his face.

there was music blasting by some speakers. the weeknd’s seductive voice coming through it. a couple of kegs and coolers were set up on some of the pews that were still standing. a couple kids made a makeshift dance floor and was grinding against each other. some were disappearing down a set of stairs.

the catacombs.

that’s what made st. peter even more unique to our little town. no one knew what they were used before but everyone loves what we used it for now.

i never been down there.

looking around I notice that no one was looking my direction. who was really going to care if i went down there? it can’t be that bad down there.

walking down, the stairs the music amplified by ten and the light was only enough to see five feet in front of you.

i couldn’t even make my way all down there. there was a large figure who blocked the end of the staircase.

john b.

“what are you doing?”

he still had his mask on but was holding a beer and his hoodie was off. his white shirt hugged him perfectly. his hair was the same as it was. not slick with sweat.

at least not yet. the night was young after all.

college has done him good though.

not that he wasn’t good looking before but there was something different about him.

“i asked what you were doing here?” he questioned again, going up the stairs making me back away.

he was a step down from me but that just made him the same height. didn’t make him less intimidating at all.

“i just wanted to see what’s going on down there.”

“no. not unless you go down with me.”

“i saw at least a couple of girl go down there by myself. why can’t i?”

“don’t want anybody to get the wrong idea. you’re my brother’s girlfriend and he would be mad at me if i let you go down there by yourself. well i wouldn’t care but my parents would and i rather not have them bug me cause of it.” he shrugged and lifted his mask a bit to take a sip of his beer.

his brother’s?

fucking andrew.

“not his. matter of fact i’m not anybody’s so you don’t have to worry about me. now get out of my way.”

“you’re not anybody’s?”

i tilted my head up, trying to seem taller. didn’t matter cause i still have to look up at him. “exactly.”

“not even mines?” he asked, pulling me into him. my breath hitched and i hated that mask more then ever. i wanted to see the way he was looking at me right now. his whole expression not just his eyes.

i felt like my whole body was humming as he picked me up with one arm around my body and brought me right back up the stairs. he put me down and with that same hand he went up my back and start undoing the tie we had to wear at school.

“what are-?”

“you want to go down there right?” he asked and i nod.

“then we’re doing it my way.”

he turned me around as the tie finally loosened and i saw everyone still focusing on the fight.

good.

i don’t know what he has planned for me but i don’t want it to be obvious. not yet anyway.

“here. take a sip.” he handed me his beer bottle and i did. anything to make me feel less nervous. less aware of how close he was to me right now.

i even tried to focus on the fight but the tie was soon tied around my eyes. “don’t move. let’s see if you can handle this first.” his lips ghosted over my ear as he took the beer out of my hands. then all the warmth he bought was gone.

what the hell?

i took a step back just to see if that’s where he went. he wasn’t there.

I felt his eyes on me though.

fine. if he wanted me to wear this and play a game i could do it. i’ll even go to the catacombs by myself.

if i remember correctly the doorway was across from the fight.

walking towards where I thought was the right way, i can hear some girls giggle as i past by them. “no idea what they’re going to do with you but i’m jealous. don’t waste it.” one of them teased.

“oh trust me I won’t.” i joked and they giggled and a chorus of have fun was coming at me.

hearing them walk away i wondered where that boost of confidence came from and realized i should’ve asked them to take me to the catacombs. I don’t want to stumble around and get lost and embarrass myself.

john b doesn’t get embarrassed though. he makes it work in his favor.

i could still find it myself. show him that i’m more then capable of taking care of myself.

“they’re right you know.” a voice said from behind me, coming closer. “you shouldn’t waste this and whoever got you like this is.” his voice was deep like john b’s but there was something in it that triggered my fight or flight response.

rafe.

“aren’t you andrew’s girlfriend? i didn’t see him here yet.” his voice was now coming from the front of me and I can feel his body heat.

“not his.”

“too bad i like playing with stuff that’s not mine.” he pulled me into him and his hand started stroking my face.

“let go of me.”

“no i want you to be as nice to me as nice you are to whoever got you like this. especially since you have a room at the routledge’s. so i can come to your room and let me go underneath your covers and in between your legs. can you be that nice to me huh?” his voice got lower and lower as he kept talking and his mouth was next to my ear.

“let her go, rafe.” another voice said. warmer. jj.

“this isn’t high school anymore jj. i can do whatever I want. isn’t that right sweetheart?” he asked and his finger grazed my lips and i opened up a bit.

“good gi-. what the fuck?!” he shouted as he rip his finger away from my teeth.

“what? too hard?” I heard jj laugh and rafe’s hands were off of me.

“what are you laughing at? the bitch bit me.”

“and you deserve worse. we both told you to leave her alone.” jj pointed out and I heard rafe puff.

“we’re not done.” i think that was directed to me.

“you are. go downstairs and cool off. we have a lot to do tonight.” I heard him walk away and jj come closer. “you okay angel?”

“yeah i’m fine.”

“i would say he’s just all talk but.”

“yeah i know.”

“want me to stay with you till john b comes back?”

a part of me wanted him too but those weren’t the rules and I didn’t want john b to make an excuse on why I couldn’t go down there.

“no i’m okay. just going to the catacombs.” i said walking towards where I thought it was.

“can’t, kid.”

“yes I can. you saw what i did to rafe. I could do it to anyone down there.”

in other words, I wasn’t a kid.

“I know that. you’re just going the wrong way.” I can hear the laughter in his voice.

“thank you.”

“no problem kid.” he said and i went the opposite direction. i felt the wall until i came to a doorway that lead down.

yes.

as soon as I tried to make my way down the stairs there was someone’s arms was around me. they were familiar. they felt safe.

“john b.”

“how did you know?”

“i know how you feel.”

“you have no idea.” he turned me around. “i thought I told you to wait for me.”

“you was taking too long.”

“surprised you want to go down there after you sent rafe down there.” he chuckled.

“you saw that and you didn’t help me?” what the fuck is wrong with him. if andrew was here he couldn’t do much but he would try. rafe listens to him.

“you had it handled.”

“what if i didn’t? what if i didn’t and he did something to me?”

“angel i’m not your knight. you saved yourself and you did good. don’t depend on people to do it for you.”

“but-.”

“but nothing. you saved yourself and it felt good didn’t it?”

he’s right. it did feel good and jj backing me up just put icing on the cake. i was used to the men in my life babying me. andrew, their dad, my dad, and the rest of the parents when my dad died.

“didn’t it?” he was closer. i can feel his breath tickling my neck.

“it did.”

a chuckle. “good. let’s go.” his hand traveled from my hips, up my side, down my arm to my hand and started walking down the stairs.

he was holding me tight as we went down. the lights barley made its way through the tie. I was completely blind.

the music faded as we walk further in and moaning and giggling filled the hallways instead. a group of voices joined.

male voices.

they were egging a couple in as they were fucking. they were watching a couple having sex. only male voices not girls.

instead of walking past the watch party, he led me in and kept me there. her moans were timed perfectly with the slapping of the skin.

“why are we watching?” i asked and he gave me the beer again. “because they want to and the couple wanted to be watched.”

“she wants to have a bunch of men watching her? i find that hard to believe.”

“there’s a couple of women.”

“why?”

“jesus angel cause it’s like i said they want to. they get excited by it. all of them are basically drooling at the sight of her. you don’t hear them? they’re quite vocal even the ones who aren’t touching themselves.”

he got closer to my ear. “for her though everything is amplified by ten. she feels his hands, his body, and his dick of course. she also feels their eyes on hers, can feel their lust, both girl and boy. they want her and that’ll probably make her cum before she’s ready.” his hands weren’t touching me but they were tracing up and down my arms. i felt goosebumps as he does so.

fuck. “can i take the blindfold off?”

“why?”

why? a part of me wanted to see how it felt. see the look in the boy’s eyes. what got them turned on and live it through them. see if she was smiling at the attention or too lost in the pleasure to really notice the baby that were watching her.

another part wanted to watch her reaction. If she was smiling or not, or was she too lost in the pleasure to notice that how many men were around her?

but more importantly, I wanted to imagine it was myself that it was me and john b I want to see his reaction. was he looking at her or was he looking at me?

“it’s because sex makes people do some crazy things. sex and money are the most unnecessary ones in the world but people would do anything for them things too. the most powerful things in the world.”

“what about love?”

“you never had sex huh?”

“you never been love.” bastard

“why can’t I take off the blindfold? why did you bring me down here if you didn’t want me to see?” he didn’t say anything for a second. he was thinking. “who said you couldn’t take it off?”

what the hell. “stop giving me vague answers. stop playing games with me. tell me the truth.” he didn’t respond fast enough, and I took off the blindfold not to look at the scene the porn in front of us. I turned to look at him. he still had his mask on, but as soon as my light, my eyes just light I realize he hasn’t blinked once.

“why did you bring me down here? what’s your game?” i demanded stepping even more into his space which I thought was impossible.

“what i want?” he asked grabbing my waist, walking backwards into a room. he took off his mask and i can finally see him. he looked so intense that if i didn’t feel his boner on my like I would think he was mad at me.

“i want you to be apart of my world. i see you watching from the sidelines all the time. i see you get buried by everyone praises when you stay inside of the box. i know you want to rip your skin just to feel something new. want to join. want to be free of everyone exceptions even if it’s just for a second.” he had me pinned to the wall, grabbing my jaw so I keep my eye contact with him.

god he was right. im tired of being the perfect angel all the time. tired of the assumptions about how my life was supposed to be. my life was supposed to be how the parents planned for it. be married to andy and have his kids. I wanted to take control of my life. be free without worrying about doing the wrong thing. just think about what I want and who i want.

“does that include you?”

he chuckled, his lips brushing against mine. “you’re not ready for that yet.”

fuck. closing my eyes i let his hands roam my body over my clothes. i wanted more but for now this was more then enough. “angel.”

how can a person saying your name could be so addicting?

“angel?!”

that wasn’t him. whoever it was needs to go away. I don’t want this to end yet. im not ready for him to stop but he did.

opening my eyes, i looked at john b and he stood up straight not touching me anyway. he didn’t move.

tell them to go away. please. you’re not ready for this to be over either so send them away.

“angel are you in there?”

john b moved away and I saw Andrew standing in the doorway.

fuck. he was still in his school uniform and holding a phone in his other hand.

“there you are. your mom is worried sick about you after the school called. come here I’ll take you home.” he pushed his brother away and wrapped his arm around me like he was saving me. he just did the worse thing ever.

“stay away from her. don’t come near her ever again.” he snapped and led me out of the room.