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un-beel-ievable · 4 years

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Before October’s Gone (Mammon × reader) | songfic

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

Inspired by Cimorelli’s song Before October’s Gone! You can listen to it here.

One of the longer fics I’ve ever written...I hope you guys enjoy it! I worked really hard on this one :3

_____

♪ Our phone calls got shorter

And the nights they got longer

You stopped replying

And I saw you with her

You tell me you miss me

I feel special for a second

But then you turn around and show me that you didn't meant it

I listen to your voicemail from last September

And I bet that you don't remember leaving it

But it's all I got

My last piece of you ♪

“Mammon!” The chirpy voice at the other end of the line made up for the weeks that he’d missed hearing it. Curse Lucifer for implementing the stupid roster for phone calls —having to wait his turn while his brothers got to listen your cheerful voice and melodic laugh was beginning to drive him up the wall. He understood why Lucifer would have to put such a rule in place for his brothers, but surely the peacock could loosen up a little for him right? The others may be “eating up too much of their time”, but such an offensive statement could never be applied to him. After all, he was your first. “Yo! How’ve ya been? Wait, lemme guess. You’ve just been wanderin’ around in that sad, depressin’ human world with no place to go and nothin’ to do...right?”

You laugh, and his heart does a somersault in his chest. How he’s missed it. Nothing in all of the three realms could make him happier than hearing the sound of your laughter; it’s like music to his ears. Knowing that he was the one that drew such an adorable sound from your lips was the cherry on top. The first time he’d heard you giggle, he’d sprinted back to the House of Lamentation to begin devouring joke book after joke book to ensure his chances of getting to hear it again. Hearing his brothers criticize him for acting like a fool had always been something that bothered him in the past, but your arrival had put a spin on things —if amping up his antics was something that got you to crack a smile, he was all for being the butt of his brothers’ jokes. “How’d you know?”

He grins. “What did ya expect? I mean, I was your first, right? Your first demon. Which means we share a special sorta bond! I know these things!”

Another laugh. Mammon wonders if he should shoot for a third time, but you don't give him the chance to try. “Listen, Mammon...it was great hearing from you, but I have to go.” The bitter taste of disappointment fills his mouth. He’d been looking forward to this phone call with the eagerness of a child awaiting to open their Christmas presents...and you had to leave already? The two of you had barely even talked for 5 minutes! That’s so unfair! “What? Already? C’mon, we barely got to talk—”

His whine of complaint cuts off abruptly when he picks up on the sound of someone else’s voice on your end of the call. Curious, Mammon turns up the volume of the call and strains his ears. It’s a male’s voice, one that sounds awfully familiar… He frowns. “Is that Solomon?”

“Yeah! We’ve been hanging out a lot more ever since we returned to the Human World! Keeping each other company and all that. Let me just pass him my DDD, I think he wants to say hi—”

“Nah, don’t bother. Y’all have fun, I’ll talk to you again soon.” Mammon hangs up before you can get the chance to say anything else and flops back against the pillow pile on his unmade bed with a sigh. Solomon, huh? The two of you sticking together made sense —after all, you were the only two humans living in a realm of demons for an entire year. Of course you would form a bond over this shared experience. Still, the idea of you hanging out with Solomon frequently didn’t sit well with him. He was your first, if anyone should be hanging out with you, it should be him.

Envy was Levi’s thing, not his. But there was no stopping the jealousy that was blossoming in his chest. In an attempt to keep his emotions in check, Mammon powers on his DDD and pulls up the voice message that you’d left him a few months ago. You were still residing in the Devildom then, back when he didn’t have to resort to playing back an old voicemail to make him feel less lonely.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that you’re lying in bed beside him, and not by someone else’s side an entire realm away.

♪ I heard all the rumors

I didn't want to believe it

You barely mentioned her once

I didn't think anything of it

Sitting there on my driveway

Said you could listen to me all night

Now you're the boy who never meant it

And I'm just the girl who "took it all the wrong way" ♪

You’d always been fascinated by the sports car that he kept permanently parked in the upper floor of his bedroom. The both of you had gotten into a playful argument over justifying the reason behind his “absurd decision” (your words, not his). Out of the dozens of possible reasons that they’d managed to come up with during the hour or so their discussion had lasted, your personal favourite had been “to allow a quick escape from one of Lucifer’s extensive monologues”. He hadn’t even bothered to come up with a counterargument for that. One, it wasn’t entirely false; he wouldn’t deny that getting behind the driver’s seat in order to get away from one of the peacock’s pointless lectures wasn’t a thought that had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. And secondly...the expression that you wore while you were coming up with all of these ridiculous thoughts was just too cute. Your brow would furrow in concentration, and your tongue would peek out between her lips —you looked just like the cats that starred in those “cat blepping” videos that Satan would relentlessly spam his DDD with. The way your face lit up when you’d thought of a reason satisfactory enough for your standards was even more adorable —Mammon knew that as long as you kept directing that megawatt grin at him, he’d go along with anything that you said.

At some point during their conversation, the two of you had relocated from the couch you were perched on to the backseat of his car. Mammon doesn’t even remember whose idea it was to move in the first place —he couldn’t recall if this was the result of you pleading with him to allow you to take a better look at the vehicle or if he’d suggested it to you first. He doesn’t even remember what the both of you had talked about once you’d gotten in the car; the topic of their conversation had switched course multiple times. What was etched into his mind’s eye for the rest of time, however, was how attentively you’d gazed up at him when he was talking. You seemed as mesmerised by his words as he was by yours. The notion that someone genuinely wanted to listen to everything that he had to say felt foreign to him; his brothers had brushed him off as nonsensical and annoying a long time ago. You made him feel important.

“...Mammon! HEY, STUPIDMAMMON! Did you even hear anything I just said? Sheesh…”

Mammon’s train of thought is derailed by a pillow that hits him square in the face. Normally, such an action would trigger a rowdy pillow fight that usually ended in Lucifer barging in and bringing an early end to an evening of fun. But today Mammon was so lost in recollections of the past that he barely even kicks up a fuss as he peels the cushion off his face. “Huh?” Levi raises an eyebrow at the second born from where he’s seated across the room. Mammon could be a moron at times, but rarely was he this unaware of his surroundings. “I said, did you see MC’s latest Devilgram post? They were at this Human World anime convention with Solomon, you know the one I told you about last week? The one that Ruri-chan’s voice actress was going to appear at? MC’s soooooooo lucky that they got to see her perform live. I can’t believe Lucifer wouldn’t let me go, it’s so unfair…”

Mammon usually tuned out of the conversation entirely whenever Levi starts going off on a tangent about something related to his animes, but the mention of your name had caught his attention. You were at a convention? With Solomon? Like...on a date? Mammon snatches up his DDD from where it’s lying on the armrest of his seat and loads up your Devilgram page. As usual, the sight of your bright smile is enough to cause his heart to skip a beat —you’re so breathtakingly beautiful that it’s unfair. But the sight of the male posing beside you in the picture causes his mood to turn sour quickly. Solomon. Was that the human sorcerer’s arm around your waist?

Flipping his DDD over so that he doesn’t have to look at the screen, he sets it back down on the armrest with enough force that it actually causes Levi to cut his ramble short mid sentence. Pretending that he didn’t notice the odd look that Levi was giving him, Mammon settles back in his seat and closes his eyes.

If there was something going on between you and Solomon, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know about it.

♪ On that October night when I let you go

You didn't even try to make me stay, no

I didn't know that you could be so cold

Like the Minnesota snow

Somehow I always knew we'd end up this way

And I hope you feel happy someday

I just wanted you to open up to me

But now that's on the list of things you never did ♪

Mammon had spent the last couple of months waiting for this moment. You were back. Back in the Devildom, back in your room in the House of Lamentation, back by his side. A new semester of classes was something he’d never looked forward to in the past, but things were different this time. A new school term brought copious amounts of coursework and misery, sure, but it also brought you back to the Devildom. You’d returned from your vacation in the Human World with bright eyes and rosy cheeks, armed with souvenirs for each and every one of your favourite demons. Mammon was thrilled by the small paper bag bulging with keychains and other assorted trinkets that you’d thrusted into his hands, but the one gift that he’d appreciated the most was the warm embrace that you’d pulled him into.

The next few days pass in a blur, with Mammon still finding it difficult to believe that you’ve really returned (he has to keep pinching his arm to reassure himself that this isn’t a cruel joke that his subconscious is playing on him). He'd been there to greet you upon your arrival in the Devildom. And he’d seen you during meals and passed by you in the hallways...but he hadn’t actually gotten the opportunity to spend proper one on one time with you —you were too busy settling in and making up for lost time with everyone else. Until now.

Seated atop of a hill overlooking the rest of the Devildom, the vantage point gives the both of you a spectacular view of the expansive shopping district. You can even spot the town’s affectionately dubbed “party central” —also known as the area where most of the popular bars and clubs are located— in the distance; or at the very least, the colourful lights that illuminate every building in that part of town. It’s quite a sight to behold, but the hustle and bustle that can be seen even from a distance makes you appreciative of the fact that you and Mammon are far away from the crowds of Denizens enjoying an evening out. You shiver when a passing gust of wind rustles the leaves of the tree overlooking the bench you’re seated on.

“Cold? Let the GREAT Mammon warm ya up.” Before you can even roll your eyes at the suggestive nature of that statement, Mammon has shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it snugly around you. Not that you’re entirely surprised by his words at this point, this isn’t the first time he used that line with you. Just like every other time he’s done this, he doesn’t remove his arm afterwards, keeping it draped around your shoulders. But unlike the previous times he’s pulled this stunt, you don’t nestle into his side, or even lean your head against his shoulder. He feels a pang in his chest, but he refuses to let it show on his face. “So how was your vacation in the Human World? I bet it had to be pretty borin’ without the GREAT Mammon there to keep ya company.”

“It was alright.” A pause. “Listen, Mammon...There’s something that I need to tell you.”

The smile that Mammon’s attempting to keep plastered to his face wavers, but he nods at you in encouragement as you chew on your lower lip anxiously. When your next course of action is to raise up your left hand instead of carrying on the conversation, his brows knit together in confusion. He’s about to ask if this was some kind of odd ritual and whether or not you’d joined a cult in your absence, but then he spots it. The glint of silver on your ring finger.

His jaw drops.

Noticing the expression on his face, you hurry to clear up any misunderstandings before he —understandably— jumps to the wrong conclusion. “It’s not what you think! I’m not engaged or anything, it’s just a promise ring. Solomon and I...we got together two weeks ago. I meant to tell everyone, but everything’s been so crazy ever since I got back —I’ve barely had the time to catch my breath, let alone make such a big announcement.. But now that thing’s have quieted down a little...I wanted to tell you first. After all, you are my first demon.”

The Avatar of Greed was uncharacteristically quiet as you rambled on. When he finally speaks up again, his voice lacks the boisterous energy that usually radiates from him. “I am, aren’t I?”

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, but there’s no humour in the sound. “You should head back to the house without me. I’ll catch up.”

“Mammon—”

“Look, don’t worry ‘bout me. I’m fine.” Mammon takes both of your hands in his and gazes up at you with earnest wide eyes, as if his overexaggerated acting skills were enough to sell his words to you. Ridiculous as it may be, his ploy seemed to work —or perhaps you just didn’t care enough about the hailstorm of emotional turmoil that flickered in his azure hued gaze. It didn’t matter. Either way, you were gone before Mammon could change his mind and convince you to not to leave him. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and blurs his field of vision, but he doesn’t take his gaze off of you as you disappear down the path that leads to the House of Lamentation.

You don’t even bother to turn around and look at him.

♪ Maybe sometimes things just have to end

Maybe sometimes there's just no explaining it

But you could've let me know

You'd be moving on

You'd be moving on before Octobers gone ♪

#obey me shall we date #obey me shall we date game #obey me game #obey me shall we date fanfiction #obey me shall we date fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #obey me shall we date reader insert #obey me shall we date self insert #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon #gender neutral reader #self insert #reader insert #obey me shall we date songfic #songfic #angst #obey me angst #obey me shall we date angst

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specialmindz · 4 years

Photo

“PAPYRUS! PAPYRUS WHERE ARE YOU?”

BUBBH!

“PAPYRUS!”

Sans poked the baby bones currently playing the bathtub. “hey uh, bro? i think dad wants you…”

“PAH-PYRUS!”

SPLASH SPLASH!

“WHAT YOU WANT STINK DADDY? I’S MAKING MOOSIC OVER HERE!”

The infant continued splashing in the tub, the bubbles floating gently through the air with each slap the water received. “UNDER DA’ SEA! UNDER DA’ SEEEA! DOWN HERE IT WETTER, DOWN HERE IT BETTER, TAKE IT FROM BAY-A-BEEEEE!”

CAP CAP CAP!

CA-THINK, WHAM!

“ugh! dad, you don’t have to slam open the door like that-”

“WHERE’S MY KEYBOARD, YOU LITTLE SHIT?”

SPLASH SPLASH!

“I don’t know what you’s talkin’ bout’. What is dis ‘key-board’ you speak of? Is a board game?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS! YOU USE IT WHEN YOU’RE USING MY COMPUTER! TELL ME WHERE IT IS THIS INSTANT!”

SPLASH!

Papyrus stopped. “Why you need it so bad? You’s a scientist, not a moosician! I’S the only one with musical talent round’ here! Listen to mah jams!”

SPLASH SPLASH!

“UNDER DA’ SEA-”

“THAT’S THE WRONG KIND OF KEYBOARD!”

“uh oh,” said Sans, studying the water. The surface of it was almost completely obscured by bubbles, but he had a good idea of what lay beneath. Papyrus normally didn’t even like bubbles, as they got in his eye sockets and made it hard to see where he was swimming, but today he actually asked for extra suds in order to create “special effects” for a “concert” he was performing.

It looked like Gaster had the same idea too, as a trademarked sigh of unmistakable misery escaped him.

Heh heh, it’s like watching a balloon slowly lose its will to live…

SPLASH SPLASH, SPLASH SPLASH!

“It’s under the water isn’t it?”

“Nyeh?”

“My keyboard. It’s underwater.”

Papyrus looked down at the water and then back up at his father. “I do bad Daddy?”

“Yes Papyrus, you’ve made a mistake...”

“I fuk up yo’ life?”

“Yes Papyrus, you’ve ‘fucked up my life,’ now give me my keyboard so I can repair it.”

“Mmm…no. No, I’s gonna fix it. I already has an idea, in fact! I can still make dis work.” Papyrus licked the water. “Yep. Daz the problem. That’s the problem right there. I got the suds, but the water not be salty enough. SNAS!”

“AHH! wh-what? what do ya’ want pap?” asked Sans, putting a hand against his skull.

“Well FIRST, I’d like you to pay attention,” said the baby. “We gots a situation over here and you’s dreaming bout’ eating Sabastian!” The infant pointed to a dead crab floating in the bath near his feet. It had CLEARLY been eaten a long time ago by someone else, probably a human seeing as Papyrus got all his stuff from the Dump, but apparently the shell was all he needed to play pretend.

“I needs you to search the Powder Place and finds the salt,” said Papyrus, now pointing at the bathroom cabinet.

The bathroom cabinet was where the family keep their cleaning supplies. Heavy-duty powder that was used to clean up serious messes regular soap couldn’t handle, pest control bottles that sprayed foul-smelling chemicals, and copious amounts of baby powder lined the floor of the cabinet. Some of the bottles and boxes were neatly arranged, but most of the supplies had been knocked over, their contents scattered everywhere due to a combination of missing lids and an unsupervised baby…at least that’s what Papyrus said.

His little brother didn’t like the Powder Place very much, and at one point he even tried to do something about it, admitting fully that he had once purposely spilled the contents of the baby powder in order to make the area smell like an infant rather than Catty’s litterbox room. It was Papyrus’s argument that cleaning supplies should never smell like fresh fruit.

“Be careful Snas, it may smell delicious in there, but erything be poison. Big people’s use it as a trick to kill off fat babies.”

“Don’t be absurd! That’s not even close to being correct.”

“Yes it is. Big people’s like their monies and a fat baby is a baby that eats alllll the time. Food costs money, so they buy poison that smell like food to get rid of the baby without legal con-see-quences.”

“That’s not true, who TOLD you that?”

“Dirt-Butt.”

“*Sigh*”

Of COURSE it was Dirt-Butt.

“Dirt-Butt” was ALWAYS saying nonsense, though it really didn’t bother Gaster as much as every other source of knowledge the infant found. He was usually relieved in fact. Papyrus was used to getting stereotypical info from the media, but the things Dirt-Butt told him more often than not, actually kept him out of trouble.

If only headaches weren’t still the norm…

“NO DADDY, DON’T USE DA’ LECTRICAL HOLE! DIRT-BUTT SAY PICHU LIVE IN THERE!”

“…What?”

“dirt-butt told pappy that pikachus were electric mice who made their homes in electrical outlets,” explained Sans, playing a game on his phone.

“IS TOO! PIKACHU’S BABIES LIVE IN THERE! YOU’S GONNA POKE EM’ IN THE BUTT!” Papyrus covered the holes of the outlet with his hands, Determined to save his fellow infants. “Dirt-Butt says only big people can get poked in the butt, he also say-”

“Pikachus do NOT live or make their nests in electrical outlets.” Interrupted the scientist. “No one does.”

“Yes they do! Dat’s why the tricity gets used up. Pichu eat da’ power so they can gets big, is their nutrients!”

Gaster shook his head. “No. The reason you don’t want to stick things in here is because you’ll be electrocuted. Dirt-Butt lied. You need to pay more attention to people when they’re talking Papyru-”

“You gets elly-cuted cause’ you piss off Pikachu.”

“Did you not hear me?”

“If you poke the babies, you gets zapped.”

“Papyrus.”

“I KNOWS MAH ANIMALS DADDY!”

“SNAS, MORE SALT!”

“NO, do NOT put salt in your brother’s bathwater, it’s terrible for bones,” said Gaster reaching into the cabinet. He pulled out the salt, but was immediately met with a wet keyboard to the face.

CACK!

“PAPYRUS!”

“GIMME MAH SALT STINK DADDY! IS MINE!”

“No, it is NOT yours-”

“GIMME MY SALT OR I’S GONNA TELL UPON YOUUU!”

“You do that.”

“I WILL! I’ll tell upon you and you’s gonna get in trouble! I tells em’ you taked the salt and tried to make a baby stew…” said Papyrus smiling.

“Wh-”

“I’ll tell eryone you putted salt and carrots in mah bath and eryone will hate you. They’ll go ‘poor baby Pappy, he has such a bad wife, his daddy try to cook him for supper! We should ah-rest that bad guy and donate lossa monies to that baby’s fundraiser so their family can eats!”

“…What fundraiser?” asked the father, sensing trouble. He immediately regretted saying anything. In fact, he regretted it before the second word even came out of his mouth, but by then it was already too late.

“MY fundraiser. Baby Pappy’s Happy Nappies for Crap Bs!” Papyrus grinned and spread his arms out wide as if in celebration.

“’Crap B’s…?”

“Crap babies. Babies who not geniuses like me. Snas say, other baes not as fortunate as us, so I should be nice and share mah toys.”

“…”

“I don’t wanna do that, so instead I makes a fundraiser to get the inferior infants nappies!”

“Papyrus-”

“Nappies is diapers.”

“I know what nappies are,” said Gaster, already annoyed. Though the fundraiser’s name was enough to prove to Asgore that he wasn’t responsible for whatever came from his youngest’s latest money-making scheme, he still had to put an end to it. If he didn’t, he’d have the king’s citizens knocking at his door, and things were already getting bad in that regard.

More and more monsters had fallen ill from Hotland’s toxic fumes due to the fact that the Underground’s air filter lacked the power to operate and the more…unreasonable, individuals were getting upset. With the Lab being the closest medical building, the sick were often brought in and placed into the renovated Medical Ward. What was once mostly a living room was now a warehouse of beds, stretching almost from one end of the room to the other and lined with monsters of every variety.

Not that he was running out of room or anything.

The monsters there weren’t being cured, but rather drained of their magic to create magic crystals, a brilliant, if cold-hearted idea to be sure. This however, was necessary, though it had a severe consequence as it resulted in an increase of the Fallen; monsters who had lost too much magic and so had fallen into a comatose state. If the comatose had a chance of waking, he wouldn’t have dozens of family members banging on his door and flooding his email with questions, but sadly that wasn’t the case. Those that fell, fell to dust. There was no waking them…at least he didn’t THINK so…Gaster admittedly hadn’t bothered to experiment with that kind of thing yet.

I’m raising two children, keeping the oil reservoir under control AND a secret, trying to come up with a permanent solution to our power problem, logging the names and the number of incoming patients, making magic crystals, recording Papyrus’s progress, AND fixing HIS messes; I don’t have the TIME to meddle in monster mortality.

“uh, dad? papyrus just ran out the door giggling.”

“Wh-what?” Gaster looked about the bathroom to find that it was, indeed, missing a baby. “Why didn’t you stop him?!”

“he ran right past you, so i figured it was okay.”

“Papyrus by himself is NEVER okay, you should know that! Where did he go?” He poked his head out of the doorway and looked down the hall. A wet trail of baby tracks led into the darkness and he could just faintly hear the clacking sound of tiny bone feet getting farther and farther away.

“he said something about ‘customer satisfaction’ or…whatever. i wasn’t really paying attention-”

“GET OFF YOUR PHONE AND GO GET YOUR BROTHER!”

“*siiiiigh* FINE. PAPPY? WHERE YOU AT BABY BRO?”

“I SAID ‘GET’ NOT ‘YELL’ SANS!”

Lazy little…

“uuuughh!” Rolling his eyes, Sans shoved his phone back into the pocket of his hoodie and walked out the door. “PAPPYYYY! HEEERE PAPPY!”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

Wiping off his ruined keyboard, Gaster tucked it under his arm and followed his oldest.

He already knew where the little bastard was headed.

Earlier in the week, while he was sweeping dust off the beds, he had found a little white diaper under the covers. ALL of the beds that once held the Fallen, had them in fact. It was obvious that Papyrus was putting diapers on the comatose patients, but until today, he never knew why.

“…those aren’t babies pappy,” said Sans from far off.

“Course they are! Daz why they sweep so much. Cwap babies don’t do much Snas, they just eat, sweep, and doody in their diapies. Some of them pay wit toys, but-”

“PAPYRUS GET OUT OF THE MEDICAL WARD!”

Papyrus turned his head to look down the hall, then, waving at his daddy, he turned back around.

“PAPYRUS!”

“Shoosh, stink Daddy! You wake da’ babies!” The tiny skeleton looked at the fluffy, unconscious dog-monster. “So tell us, doody-dog…how satisfied are you wit mah pro-duct? From one to a hundred?”

“…”

Papyrus lifted the dog’s head, “Eleventy-six!” exclaimed the baby bones, “I’d definitely wear another! Mah only complaint is the lack of hole for my stupid dog tail-”

“*pfft!* pap-”

“THERE SHOULDN’T BE ANY COM-PAINTS!” yelled Papyrus into the dog’s face. “DIS A FUNDRAISER, YOU BE GATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU GET, SUCK-BABY!”

“…”

“he’s not answering you bro.”

“Cwap babies not talk much Snas, but the result be clear. They satisfied…and now I must expand mah business!” cried Papyrus, raising a finger in the air. “TO WATERFALL!”

“huh?”

Using his wingdings, Papyrus picked himself up and placed his little body atop his brother’s skull, apparently expecting Sans to take him to his destination with haste.

He didn’t.

“pap, i don’t know what EXACTLY you’re trying to do, but it’s probably not a good idea; you’re naked and dad was-”

“TO WATERFALL SNAS!!” repeated the baby, louder this time. “TIME BE MONEY, HONEY!”

“don’t call me that.”

SPL-SPLASH!

Teleporting to Waterfall, the two brothers fell into the water near the docks, Papyrus slipping from his sibling’s head almost at once.

“NYEHHHHAAH! WHY YOU PUT US IN DA’ WATER SNAS? THE FISHIES SEE MAH BUTT!” The infant covered his rear end with a tiny hand, using the other to grab hold of Sans’ hoodie.

“then you shoulda listened to me huh?” replied Sans, CLEARLY not sorry at all. “besides, you know i can’t control exactly where i show up!”

Just the area in general…

“DON’T LOOK AT MAH BUTT CWEEP FISH!”

TAP!

A strange tapping sound drew the older boy’s attention, and Sans turned his head to see old man Gerson walking along the docks, cane in hand, while the baby batted at the curious fish.

“What’s all the commotion over here?” asked the turtle, scratching under his chin. He looked a lot more ancient when he was in full view. Sans usually only saw him in his shop, as did everyone else. It was rare to find him wandering around, as Undyne had a habit of taking it upon herself to scavenge for supplies at the Dump and present it to him to selling. Because of her, he never really HAD to leave anymore.

TAP, SHIFF!

The old man got closer and peered down at the two in the water, holding a magnifying glass to his eye. “Wahhaha, of course, of course it’s you, Papyrus. Giving your brother trouble I see!”

Does he bring that everywhere with him?

“it-it wasn’t pappy’s fault, i made a mistake,” said Sans quietly.

“Is that so? Well you two shouldn’t be bathing in the same place we water folk get our food, might get a taste for skeletons! Wahhahaha!” He laughed again, but the little Horror wasn’t as amused.

“DON’T EAT DA’ BABY!”

“we weren’t bathing…i just…took a wrong turn or something…”

“You weren’t? Then where are your brother’s clothes?”

“CTHULHU TOOK EM’! I seens it, wit my own widdle eyes, Wrinkle-Man!” said Papyrus, splashing in the water.

“Really? Well that’s just awful! Isn’t that awful Sans?”

“please don’t encourage him.”

“They must be pretty mean to do something like that; picking on a poor little cherub like you.”

“Yep, I’s a sad cher-chero-cherrio. A very sad cheerio Wrinkle-Man, baby’s don’t gots lots of monies ya’ know? How I supposed to buy new jammies wit no monies?”

“That IS an issue,” said Gerson warily, sensing an approaching problem. He turned to Sans, but the child only glared at him, his expression giving the answer to the old man’s unsaid plea.

You started this, now YOU can deal with it.

I’m not helping you.

“Ya’ know what would make this little cheerio happy again Wrinkle-Man?”

“cherub, pappy.”

“*Sigh*…What’s that?”

“If you would accept dis diapie.” The baby bones held up a soaked diaper, possibly getting it from out of Sans’ pocket.

“oh, that’s right, i didn’t check my pockets today.” He looked down at his clothes sadly. Whatever was in there today was probably ruined now by the water.

Papyrus tended to hide things in his brother’s hoodie.

Every once in a while, the kid comedian would reach into his pocket to find crayons, candy, a kaleidoscope, bouncy balls, a yo-yo, and sometimes even makeup in his pocket. They were fun little surprises that he enjoyed, like tiny gifts. They obviously belonged to his sibling, but liked Papyrus liked to say “what’s mine is yours,” so he considered them gifts.

The big treasures were his favorite, as they were rare and akin to getting surprise packages in the mail. He’d wake up in the morning and go to the place on the floor near the dresser where he always threw his hoodie and be excited to find a big lump covered by his clothing. A sign that his brother had hidden something neat.

You’d think he’d quit hiding things with it by now. He’s gotta know I’m stealing em’…

One time, Sans even found a skateboard hidden under it. He played with it a lot, and got pretty good, but when he started doing tricks, Papyrus became…unhappy. He remembered his baby brother screaming in terror and crying when he showed him a kickflip for the first and last time. He remembered feeling super guilty about it too. He only had 1 HP after all; if he fell, it was bye-bye big bro.

The skateboard now sat in a corner collecting dust, a sad reminder of what could have been.

“I don’t need a diaper yet kiddo!” said Gerson, slightly insulted.

“Sure, you do! All old peoples need diapies and all we asks in ass-change is dat you gives us a small donation.”

“A small donation’ hm?”

“Yep, for just thirty-twelve G, you could have this super absorbent, long-lasting diaper. Yo’ donations go to the Happy Nappies Fundraiser where we will buy MORE diapies and gives them to the less fortunate.”

“…It sounds like you’re selling diapers for 3,012g, FAR more than they’re worth. That’s thirty-twelve right? 3,012g?”

“Correct. We uses the extra monies to buy more nappies.”

“That’s not a fundraiser young’un’, you’re supposed to be raising money for charity. If you’re selling these to the babies here in the Underground-”

“I not sell to babies, I GIVE to da’ baes!”

“…But their parents pay for them.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not a fundraiser, you’re ‘hustling’ as the kids say.”

“No! I not hustle, I BUSTLE! The fundraiser be for babies, THEY gets the diapies for free, not the big peoples.”

“you’re either not understanding bro, or you’re trying to cheat people.”

Probably the latter.

“Daz not too. I buys diapies for the peoples who needs em’ and I use the rest to buy stuffs dat I need...like my jammies. Erybody wins.”

Papyrus attempted to climb out of the water and then, realizing his arms weren’t strong enough to pull him up onto the dock, he summoned his wingdings and placed himself onto the planks.

RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE!

“ugh, pap!” Sans covered his face as his tiny and inconsiderate sibling shook his body back and forth like the dogs in Snowdin, attempting to rid himself of the water.

“Wahahaha!”

SQISH!

THAP THAP THAP!

The infant squeezed the diaper in his hands and whipped it in the air, sending beads of water every which way. He knew it would probably not be the most absorbent product he ever sold, but perhaps the old monster would still want it for catching doodies…?

“bro, that diaper’s ruined, you’re not going to be able to sell it. look, it’s torn…”

“Nyeh?” Papyrus looked at the nappy in his hand. It seemed fine just a minute ago, but now it was all stretched out and worse yet, the sticky parts that were meant to hold the diaper in place wouldn’t stick anymore. He tried several times to get them to, but the front kept falling open.

Sans was right.

His product was ruined.

“NYEHHHHHAAHHHH! SNAAAAAAAS!”

“*sigh*”

“MY DIAPIE BE BOKEN SNAS! NYEH-HAAAHHHH!!!”

Sans got out of the water and picked up his baby brother. “don’t cry pappy,” he said, bouncing him up and down in his arms. “it’ll be okay.” He patted him on the back, but the baby bones refused to stop crying, still clutching the diaper in his little hand.

“Oh dear…hmm…tell you what,” said Gerson, pulling a wallet out of his shirt pocket. “I’ll buy your nappy at 2,000g, since it’s damaged. A young’un’ needs a pair of clothes, right?”

“our dad didn’t sell his clothes if that’s what you’re-”

“Shu up Snas, YES PWEASE MR. WRINKLE-GUY!” yelled Papyrus, suddenly all smiles. “I WOULD VERY MUCH AH-PEA-CIATE THAT!”

“PAPYRUS!”

“WAHHAHAHAHA!” laughing loudly, the tortoise-monster gave him the money. “Looks like this old man’s been outmaneuvered in marketing! I better watch out!”

“Nyeh hee hee hee!”

“…”

“Oh, don’t look so glum, my boy. Your brother needs this practice in order to protect you in the future! He’s gonna be quite the young warrior, isn’t that right Papyrus?”

“…There will be war.”

“WAHHAHAHAHA!” Mr. Gerson laughed again and walked back towards his shop. He tended to laugh a lot when Papyrus was present, though seeing him also made the elderly monster a bit sad too.

Sometimes I miss the old days when a lot of these little guys were around…

Maybe one day, nature will fix our past mistakes. I just hope it doesn’t need help…or that it’s not too late.

TAP, SHIFF!

“…that wasn’t very nice bro.”

“The business world is a harsh one, Snas,” said Papyrus, counting his G. “You needs to pactice too big Buther. One day, you’s gonna need to help da’ baby, ya’ know? Is sad dat you has no monies of your own. Just cause’ you gots 1 hp, don’t mean you’s useless. You gots a brilliant mind, put it to good use.”

“i don’t need life advice from a crook.”

“Kay’ when you gets a life, come see da’ baby.”

“i HAVE a life, you little asshole! it’s just isn’t a life of crime.”

“No crime no dime, big Buther. Sometimes you gots to break the rules to get da’ jewels! Tell Daddy he either pay you for help, or he pay fines for child labor.”

“that’s blackmail.”

“Is genius is what it is.”

Sans chuckled and put the money in his hoodie. “why would you need my help bro? unemployed monsters down here are a dime-a-dozen!”

“…”

“all jewel need to do is lie and they’ll help you out. i don’t need to do anything, heh heh…”

“…You needs to pactice yo’ font too.”

“fine-”

“SOMEWHERE AWAY FROM DA’ BABY!” yelled Papyrus, kicking his legs.

“i can’t leave you here, child abandonment is a crime-”

“DAZ NOT EVEN A PUN!”

“besides, crawling all the way home would be a bit labor-ious, wouldn’t it?”

“IIIII HATE CHUUUUUU!!”

CAP, CAP!

Oh crap, someone else is coming. I need to get Pappy back in some clothes or-

“HEY! NO BATHING IN THE FOOD SUPPLY, IT’S ILLEGAL!” cried a shrill voice Sans knew all too well. Startled, he dropped his brother in surprise, but luckily the infant didn’t seem to care.

“HELLWOE FISH-LADY!” Papyrus threw up his arm in greeting. “DA’ WRINKLE-MAN JUST LEFT!” The baby pointed towards Snowdin.

“He was just here?”

“yeah, he headed back to his stall a few seconds ago,” replied Sans, glaring at his brother. “while you were…underwater. why were you underwater? this is the breeding area…”

“Right, I was talking to the fish. Gotta make sure no one’s stealing them, so everyone can keep eating-”

“Fish Lady’s growing an army to fight the homos!” said Papyrus excitedly.

“SSHH!! Shut the fuck up Papyrus!” whispered Undyne harshly.

“homosapiens baby bro, you have to say the whole thing or…you know what? just say humans, kay’?”

“Homo humans!”

“…not better. also, are you talking about actual fish, undyne or water monsters?”

“WHO CARES?” yelled the young girl. “THE MORE SOLDIERS THE BETTER!” She grinned proudly, her hands on her hips. No one would expect an attack from the water AND the land, the next war against humans was as good as won.

That is, if no adults found out about it. They didn’t appreciate Undyne’s ingenious war strategies like Papyrus did.

No matter how helpful or cool they were, adults always seemed to have a problem with her ideas, and unfortunately, Sans and Gaster were no different. For most of them to work, she needed science nerds, but they saw her plans the same way they saw Papyrus’s, terrible and “asinine.”

The Royal Scientist’s words, not hers.

She didn’t know what “asinine” meant, but it had the word “ass” in it, so she assumed their father was calling her ideas booty.

My ideas aren’t ass!

My ideas are GREAT!

Stupid, crappy, science dweeb, is just lazy. How hard can it be to build a giant robot? Isn’t there already someone asking him to do that already?

“…A giant robot can destroy entire towns, I saw it in a movie.”

“what are you talking about? are you still on about that robot army?” Sans sighed, a trademark sign of his that meant he thought she was being stupid. Undyne had heard it many times before.

“IT’S A GOOD IDEA!!” she screamed. “AND IT WASN’T AN ARMY, IT WAS JUST O-”

“for the last time, if you saw something already done in a movie undyne, the humans know how to COUNTER it; they make the friggen’ things!”

Undyne’s so dumb…

“Yeah, but the movies are old, Sans! They’re in the Dump, because no one watches them anymore! We’ll have the element of surprise.”

“I wish to pilot a Gundam, big Buther.”

“SEE?! Papyrus wants it!” she said, pointing at the baby bones. “You want to blow up a town widdle Pappy?”

The infant smiled and bounced up and down on his rear end excitedly. “Yeah yeah yeah!” he said, ignoring his sibling’s frown. “I’s Middle Eastern ya’ know…is mah calling.”

“still don’t know what middle ease is, pap.”

“Middle East Snas! It mean I comes from da’ center of the earth…only is a liiiittle East.” The infant pinched his fingers together, squinting with one eye to make sure there was space between them, hoping he had solved the mystery.

“The center of the earth…?” Undyne looked confused. “You mean Hell?”

“i’d believe that.”

“Noooo! I’s on the WOOF of Hell…cept’ is a liiittle East.”

“Yeast…isn’t that the stuff bread is made from?”

“he’s saying east, undyne. it’s a direction.” Sans pointed towards where he knew the Lab was located.

“…That’s left, Sans-I MEAN RIGHT! That’s your right.”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE!”

“SHUT UP PAPYRUS, I WASN’T WRONG!”

“you are.”

“YOU SHUT UP TOO!!”

“how old are you?”

“YOU CAN’T ASK ME THAT! I’M A WOMAN, IT’S ILLEGAL!”

“Is you a baby like me, Fish Lady? If so, I gots a great product for you…”

“I’m NOT a baby, I’M GROWN!” Undyne stomped her foot angrily on the planks of the pier, scaring Sans a little. He had no idea how long those timbers had been there, but he knew people walked on them every day. Eventually, they would break and need to be replaced…probably by the pines in Snowdin.

There are some people who use them for firewood too though, I know Grillby does. What if we run out? How long does it take a pine tree to grow?

…

Who planted them there to begin with?

“Nyeh? You spacing again, big Buther?”

It was something he thought of often whenever he was bored, and he highly doubted it was the monsters doing.

“Come back down from space, Snas!”

No one knew what the inside of Mt. Ebott was like, which is why everyone in the beginning not only scrambled for a home as soon as possible, but also refused to leave it behind for something better. It didn’t make sense to begin with for the monsters to carry saplings with them into a mountain with little to no sunlight. Even if the sunlamps in Snowdin had been immediately installed, it would’ve taken time. Could the trees survive that long without the sun? Why were they all pine trees to begin with? If the monsters came from different environments all over the world, wouldn’t some have brought cacti, palm trees, and other tropical plants?

It’s like someone made preparations for us to live here…

“EARTH TO THE SNAS!”

“AH!”

“Stop daydreaming and tell da’ Fish Lady how great mah fundraiser be! She doesn’t want to buy my diapies…” said Papyrus quietly.

“Why are you naked?”

“s-sorry bro, i was thinking about the trees. how come there’s only pine trees and fruit trees in the underground?”

“Nyeh?”

Why was his brother always thinking about trees?

“There’s a fern in the Resort Area,” said Undyne, hoping to change the subject. She’d rather talk about plants than diapers.

“why though? who was the guy who went ‘hey, yeah, i know i’m being ushered out of my home with little to no warning and should prooobably pack everything i think will be needed to maintain my survival-”

“But this fern doh…” The young girl laughed, imagining the scenario. “I gotta take this fern, man!”

“*pfft!* c’mon undyne, for real-”

“FERNS BEFORE FOOD! FERNS BEFORE FAMILY!”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”

“AND THESE FLOWERS, DUDE! I NEED THESE GOLDEN FLOWERS IN MY LIFE!”

Sans laughed in spite of himself as his baby brother let out a high-pitched screech of delight. As curious as he and it was, the comedian had to admit it was also pretty funny.

I guess back then, people didn’t have to worry so much about survival as they do now. They probably weren’t expecting things to be so hard down here.

It’s good that kids like us don’t have to worry about that sort of thing…most of us anyway.

Dad’s a douche, but our generation depends on him and he’s doing his best to deliver. Without him, the Underground would be doomed.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was one of the worrying kids. The future frightened him; his father frightened him.

One of the perks of being invisible, aside from whenever the Royal Scientist needed him, was that Sans could go anywhere and do anything he pleased when off the clock. He knew about the Fallen and what his father was doing before Flowey even appeared to tell him, and he was willing to bet his brother did too.

Papyrus didn’t mess with the draining machine.

Sans noticed he didn’t talk about it either. There were no questions, no threats, no mentions whatsoever. In fact, these days Papyrus seemed to mellow out a bit in general, his pranks becoming fewer and fewer in number until the labs horrendous reputation began to fade. The baby bones had even gone out to recruit other bright minds to help in the lab, no doubt sensing his father’s incoming mental collapse.

Despite how serious their power problem was, the truth remained that they HAD oil. It was dangerous to use, but it was a choice Gaster had other than draining that he didn’t favor. He CHOSE murder, their father CHOSE to drain sick monsters who came to him for help, and showed absolutely no remorse or concern for his actions.

Not good.

“Does Onion-chan gots ferns?”

“huh?”

“It’s Onionsan, Pappy. You’re spelling it wrong, and yes, those are ferns.”

“oh, you’re still talking about ferns…who’s onionsan?” asked Sans. He didn’t know much about the monsters that lived underwater, but apparently no citizen was safe from his little bro. He hoped he hadn’t caused too much trouble…

“Onionsan-chan be a monster from Japan, man!” replied the infant, enjoying his tongue twister. “I doesn’t know how he got here dough…”

“OnionSAN, Papyrus-”

“They too big for mah diapies, so we not visit the tentacles today.”

“what?”

“Onionsan is a monster that looks like an octopus. I’ve never heard of Japan though.”

“Is where the woah-bots come from, Fish Lady! Da’ Vocaloid and the Gundams and the aira-planes…”

“airplanes aren’t robot birds baby bro,” said Sans smiling.

“Nyeh? No bird? Tsundereplane lie…?”

“huh?”

This alarmed Sans. Papyrus was behaving himself more in the lab, but that meant he was spending most of his time outside where it was dangerous.

Who’s Tsundereplane? How many people is he talking to?!

“you know what? it doesn’t matter. stop talking to strangers papyrus, it’s dang-PAPYRUS!”

BEEP BEEP!

Taking Sans’ phone out of his pocket via wingdings, Papyrus called his “friend” on speed dial.

“Hellwoe?”

“papyrus, stop!”

Who the hell gave him their number?! How long has that been in my phone?!

“Yep, is da’ baby…”

“hang up, papyrus. whoever gave you their number isn’t a sane person-”

“Snas say you’s not a whoa-bot bird Tsundereplane. Why you lie to cute widdle me?”

“…”

“WELL SCU YOU TOO, STINK ARROW-PLANE! I BEAT YO’ ASS!”

BEEP!

“…”

“…Tsundereplane not my friend no more.”

“Aww…poor Pappy…” Undyne patted the infant’s skull.

“don’t feel sorry for him! that’s what he gets for talking to strangers, maybe next time he’ll think before putting numbers in MY phone!”

“Yep, woe is me Fish Lady…”

“are you even listening to me?”

“…First they steals mah jammies and now they lie and call me an idiot-face. I am the saddest of cheerios…”

“THEY STOLE YOUR CLOTHES?!”

“you little shit.”

“STEALING’S ILLEGAL! Don’t worry Pappy, THE UNSTOPPABLE UNDYNE WILL GET YOUR CLOTHES BACK!”

“he’s lying undyne-”

Sans reached out to stop her, but Undyne was already off towards Hotland.

Damnit!

There’s no way he’d catch her, he didn’t even know who or where Tsundereplane was.

I don’t even know what they LOOK like…an airplane probably, but…

“Nyeh hee hee hee!”

“*humph!* i bet you’re pretty proud of yourself, huh baby bro?”

“Yes.”

“you think you did the right thing?”

“Yes.”

“what do you think’s gonna happen when undyne finds out you were lying?”

“She gonna come back and do the accu-sa-tions and Imma say ‘they throw my jammies in da’ lava?’ then I’s gonna cry reeeal loud, and she gonna feel sorry for me.”

“…”

“She’ll say, ‘aww, I didn’t think of that! Poor baby Pappy…I should go out and buy you NEW jammies!’ and then I say, ‘no, no, you’s done enough.”

“…is that right?”

“Yep. I say, “Just gives me some monies and I go gets em’. Shopping be boring.’ Then she gonna go ‘you’s right! Shopping IS boring. Here are some monies…and a widdle extra for the accu-sa-tions.”

“…”

“That’s when I be reeeal nice and say ‘keep da’ extra, you deserves it for being a good friend to da’ baby.’ Then I buys candy and I eats it, then we all live happy ever after.”

“…i’m calling undyne.”

“WHY YOU GOTS TO DESTROY MY HAPPY AFTER?”

BEEP BEEP BEEP!

“I’M NOT SELLING YOU NOTHIIIIINN’!!!” screamed Papyrus, “NYEH!” Snatching his brother’s phone, the baby bones took off running towards Snowdin.

“PAPYRUS! PAPYRUS, NO!”

“NYEH HEE HEE HEE HEE!”

“DO NOT GO INTO TOWN NAKED, PAPYRUS!”

Friggin’ dumbass! There’re dogs everywhere there, he can’t be showing that many bones, he’ll get eaten!

Or they would.

Probably the dogs.

Either way, Sans knew who would ultimately be blamed.

“GOOD LUCK FINDING ME IN DA’ SNOW BIG BUTHER!”

“ugh, shit!”

POOF!

With an enthusiastic smile, Papyrus leapt into a snow poff as soon as his sibling lost sight of him. There was no way Sans would find a tiny white skeleton in a snowfield. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack…whatever a haystack was.

Finally, his Michael Jackson syndrome was paying off.

“Nyeh? *sniff sniff*”

That was odd. The snow poff he was in smelled like doody. Well, actually, the whole town smelled like a barnyard, but this was especially bad…

“*huff puff* pa-papyrus…”

“…”

“papyrus, i know you’re in there, your tracks lead right to the snow poff field!”

“…Those could be anybody’s tracks, there’s no baby here, skelly-man.”

“really? heh heh, well that’s weird. most people who live in snowdin avoid the snow poffs.”

“…I had to move cause’ I missed my rent. This my home now.”

Sans laughed; his brother had no idea. “woooow, that sucks. i’d personally hate to live in a poop-igloo, but you do you man, ha ha ha!”

“What?” Papyrus poked his head out of the snow poff and looked down.

“yep. the reason the snow is built up in this area and nowhere else, is because this is where people dump their chamber pots.”

“…”

“the snow tends to build on top of the droppings and that’s what makes these little mounds, cool huh?”

“…”

“asgore is trying to get plumbing up and running, but it’ll be a while before THAT happens, what with the power issue and all. personally? i don’t see it happening. people make money gathering these snow poffs up to sell for fertilizer.”

Without saying a word, Papyrus climbed out of the snow poff and walked towards the Ruins. It was the longest route to a river, but at least it didn’t cut through town.

“papyrus?”

“Shut up.”

“aww, what’s wrong pappy? paaappyyyy-”

SPLASH!

The baby bones jumped into the river, using his wingdings to hold himself steady in order to keep from being swept away by the current.

“…”

“oh no, pappy! you can’t just hop into the river, the fishies will see your butt!”

“…”

“you know what you need to catch those doodies? what every baby needs?”

“Choke on bread.”

“a dia-”

SPLASH!

“heh.”

#Fonttale #Fonttale au #Undertale #Undertale au #Papyrus #Sans #Baby Papyrus #Kid sans #Kid undyne #Undyne #Gaster #Undertale fanfiction #Dark Comedy

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blasphoeme · 7 years

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Flowers for Papa

For Jonerys Week Day 1: Home & Family

Summary: For so long, it’s always been Jon who brought her flowers but this time, Dany decides that it should be her turn. While Jon is on his way home, she prepares his welcome home surprise and requires some help. Thankfully, three young Targaryens are more than eager to lend her a hand in laying out the finishing touches to welcome their papa home.

Part 6 of my Flowers for His Queen series. This can be read on Ao3 too~

Mood board once again created in collaboration with @midqueenally. Never could have done it without your help hehe. Thank you, Iris :)

I hope you guys like this! XD Enjoy~

It was yet another peaceful day in Kings Landing. The sun was shining with nought a cloud in the sky. In the nursery of the Red Keep, the three Targaryen children were enjoying a quiet afternoon of play with their babysitter for the day while their mother took some time to plan a welcome home surprise for her husband’s return from his trip to the North. It was the first time he’s left his family since the twins were born and to be away for two whole weeks, his family missed him dearly.

“This is a lion.” Aedon’s chubby hands held up a wooden lion figurine, one of ten hand whittled wooden animals by their father’s advisor and friend, Ser Davos, for the twins’ second birthday. Grinning, Aedon offered it to their uncle who lounged upon the chaise by the window of the nursery, his usual goblet of wine in hand.

Patting the child on the cheek, the queen’s trusted hand nodded, his voice a bit slurry from his drink. “Yes. You are quite right. That is a lion.”

With a huff the child toddled off the find his family’s direwolf guardian to show off his toys to. Little feet took Aedon over to the wolf, lying beside his big sister. It’s watchful red ruby eyes temporarily hidden from view as he rested. His bushy tail occasionally flicking and thumping against the stone floor as he rested. His ears twitched slightly hearing the little boy’s not so sneaky approach.

“Ghost, look at what I got!” The boy stood on tip toes, stretching his arm up as high as he could, brandishing the toy by the wolf’s snout. The direwolf opened his eyes and sniffed at the boy’s hand before sticking out his tongue, giving Aedon’s face a good licking. “Ghost!” The child squealed, dropping the figurine. His tiny hands now free, clenched into fists by his head, clutching at the white strands of fur as he hid his face in the wolf’s side, trying in vain to avoid the sloppy kisses. The wolf diverted the kisses to the boy’s mop of curly silver hair, styling it into whorls of cowlicks.

The eldest of the three Targaryen children was absorbed in coloring a piece of art she had drawn of their dragons soaring over the ocean that ran the fringe of the capital they called home. “Like dragons and wolves, lions are known to be fearsome. Quite like you, uncle Tyrion!” Elwynn perked up from her coloring. Her bare feet kicking in the air as she lay on her belly.

“Well, I wouldn’t call myself fearsome.” The tiny imp fearsome? Tyrion touched the scar that ran down his face. Most people would argue against that for sure, call him a coward more than anything. Although, these days he couldn’t care less for the opinions of others who didn’t matter to him. “But thank you dear child for thinking so. I must admit I do have some fine moments of bravery.” Those who he could now call his friends mattered and they accepted him for who he was, for his wisdom and capabilities. After so long, he finally felt accepted surrounded by the right company.

The princess grinned a toothy grin at him. These young ones were some of those who mattered to him. Children were innocent. They held not a trace of judgement towards anyone they met. Everyone was a person, an equal who deserved kindness. Children spoke their minds, with a frankness that was so refreshing, providing a short reprieve from having to put up appearances and plot schemes. Spending time with these three toddlers also filled a bit of the void that his family had left behind.

Arielle tugged at his sleeve from her seated position on the carpet, her book of children stories sliding from her lap as she moved to sit on her feet. She hadn’t learn all of her letters yet to read a whole book on her own yet but she loved to look at the pictures of dragons, brave warrior knights and princesses atop of towers. “What are you drinking?”

“Wine, little dragon.” Tyrion ruffled her silver curls idly.

“What is wine?”

The young princess had an inquisitive mind, much like her siblings, her whole family in fact. Must be a Targaryen thing. Her questions knew no end. Plus her love of books, she could grow to be a scholar. Tyrion regarded his goblet of wine for a few moments before replying: “Well, it’s a drink made from crushed grapes or other types of fruit fermented over a long period of time.”

“Ohhhh…” Arielle nodded, her head bobbing up and down.

Swirling the plum colored liquid around his goblet before he took a sip, allowing the velvety, bitter fluid to coat his palate before swallowing. It flowed down his throat leaving behind a fruity aromatic aftertaste in his mouth. Delicious, he thought with a smack of his lips. This bottle truly was his masterpiece. Tyrion wasn’t sure how much a three year old understood about fermentation and wine in general but it was never too early to learn the art in his opinion. “Come closer children.” He said gesturing the children over. The three children scooted closer to sit by his feet, looking up intently at him.

“Listen, while I teach you the wonders of wine.“ Propping himself up on an elbow, Tyrion took a hearty gulp of his drink before beginning his lesson. “Wine is a most marvellous invention of man. The Egyptians used to believe that vines that grapes grew on, sprang from the blood of the brave fallen warriors who battled with the gods. Another tale they believed was that, the goddess of war, Sekmhet had a thirst for blood of the fallen warriors. In order to placate the goddess from further destruction of humanity, humans tricked her into drinking copious amounts of an identical colored blood red liquid which many believed to be….” Tyrion waved his hand over his cup. “Wine.”

His audience gasped, completely entralled by his story telling.

“Also, wine was considered to have divine qualities, drunk only by royalty.” Another sip and lord Tyrion’s eyes took on a far away look. ”When drunk, it can both awaken and numb the senses when needed. Your worries, pains can be drowned out and replaced with a moment of blissful numbness.” Leaning in closer to his audience, with the scent of alcohol on his tongue, he disclosed a crucial technique: “Sometimes, when needed, it can be fed to your enemies to extract information as well.”

The young children listened with enraptured interest. Their mouths hung open in wonder. Curiosity piqued, Arielle felt the need to get her hands on that miraculous beverage sloshing around in the cup right inhere line of vision. “Can we have some? Is it tasty?”

“Hmmm…. I’m not sure it’s healthily appropriate for children.” If their mother found out he had given her babies alcohol, she’d probably be really cross. An angry dragon mother was not fun to be around. He’d seen it more than enough times to know. “I don’t think you would like it very much. It’s an acquired taste. You can have a sniff if you’d like.” Tyrion held the goblet out for the child’s nose to reach, holding back a snigger at the reaction that he knew was to come. Arielle took a deep whiff.

“Ugh! Yuck!” She exclaimed, pushing the goblet away from her face.

“I wanna sniff too!” Not wanting to lose out to his twin sister, Aedon eagerly shoved his head forwards to reach the cup. Tyrion sniggered, going along with the prince’s wishes. He offered the cup to the boy.

Nostrils flaring, the boy took a sniff and then promptly gagged. Tyrion’s body was overcome with a fit of chortling laughter, watching their tiny faces contort in disgust.

Knowing better, Elwynn shook her head, pushing the goblet away when her uncle offered it to her, his eyebrows were waggling. “Mama says it’s not good for your liver. You could die from too much alcohol. You shouldn’t drink so much, uncle.”

Tyrion blanched, even the babies were telling him to put off drinking. Should he really start doing that, he wondered. Besides helping with the Queen when she needed his counsel, life was rather looking on the up and ups. He’d even gotten the chance to start his own vinery, complete with a vineyard, producing his very own brand of wine, the Imp’s Delight. He didn’t need to drink himself into a drunken stupor whilst wallowing in the misery of his life anymore, that much was true. Drinking had become more of a leisurely pleasure to him now, something to be shared with a friend over a nice meal. “Hmm…. if I stop drinking, I’d lose my motto! I can’t drink and know things anymore. Now we don’t want that do we?”

Elwynn suggested: “You could drink less and still know things, right?”

Tyrion chuckled. “I’ll consider it.”

“She is right you know. You really should drink less.” A voice came from the doorway to the nursery. The children looked up and instantly bolted to its owner with a chorus of “mama!”s.

The dragon queen fell to her knees, almost automatically, her arms unfurled, welcoming her children into her embrace with a warm smile. She hugged them close, inhaling the scent of strawberries and fresh cream from their bath soap. Her heart filled with warmth and bloomed with love for her children. Holding them close, feeling their arms return her hug around her neck and torso reminded her of how grateful she was once again for being blessed with these beautiful, precious gifts that were her offspring. “Hello, my babies.” Dany cooed. She proceeded to grab hold of their faces, peppering each chubby, cherubic cheek with kisses in greeting, making them squirm and giggle.

With one last peck to their foreheads, Dany slipped her hands into Elwynn‘s and Aedon’s smaller ones. She got to her feet with Arielle hugging her waist. Swinging their joint hands gently, she looked down at the three pairs of purple eyes that mirrored her own and asked: “Have you been good for uncle Tyrion?”

Her question was met with resounding ‘yes’s.

Tyrion sat up, greeting his queen with a nod. “Your Grace.”

“Lord Tyrion.” Dany greeted her hand with a smile as she walked over to the chaise, gaggle of children in tow. Arielle waited for their mama to sit down before toddling forward. She sat on her feet, resting her little head atop her mama’s knees, her hands lay folded over one another propping her chin up to observe the two adults. Elwynn climbed up the chaise and settled herself comfortably into Dany’s side before helping Aedon up too. Dany smiled adoringly at her children, fingers of one hand reaching down to straighten the pink bow on the side of Arielle’s silver head. Her other hand proceeded to smooth down Elwynn’s wild raven curls, adding a tap to Aedon’s button nose, before coming to settle around her eldest child who cradled her baby brother in her lap.

Turning to her Hand, Dany inquired: “I hope you haven’t been informing my children about what lies at the bottom of a bottle, have you?”

“I wouldn’t dare, your Grace. Not to you.” Tyrion smirked. “I was simply educating them about the numerous uses a good bit of wine could provide.” He reassured the queen, a twinkle alit in his eyes.

Seated side by side like this, Dany recalled her last day in Meereen. They sat just like this as well, on the steps by the side of her throne room on the day she named Tyrion Lannister her Hand, the day she joined the great game for the Iron Throne. She would always be thankful for his belief in her, for supporting her vision for a better future, thankful for his counsel and guidance, thankful for his friendship. “We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we?”

“Yes, we have.” Tyrion let out a quiet sigh. “And what a journey it has been.”

The queen nodded, feeling that familiar sense of forlornness, that old friend who sometimes dropped by for a visit unannounced when the nights were typically dreary. They each had lost so much along the way. This road to breaking the wheel had not been an easy one, with death, war and bloodshed spattered throughout. Every each and one of them who was lucky enough to make it out alive, from the ragtag group of leaders, to their people and the soldiers they lead into a battle against thousands of dead men had each lost a piece of themselves as the price for their survival. Then came the penultimate war, fiercer than the last— the battle for the Throne. As the dust settled after the reclamation of the throne, a new future was in the making. Old wounds brought about new mended scars. The hands of pain and loss had carved invisible yet permanent scars on their skins, even more so, on their hearts.

“But we’re still here. Alive and well. Moving on a path to pave the way to a brighter future for the generations to come.” Tyrion digressed, nudging Dany’s arm gently in hopes to lift her spirits. “Besides, if it weren’t for the past, we wouldn’t have the present now would we?” Reclining fully once more on the chaise, he added with a nonchalant shrug: “And the present is looking pretty good. “

The queen and her hand shared a smile. He was right as usual. Life was finally good. She had a place to seek solace from those dreary nights in the arms of her dear husband and three babies whom she could give all her love to, unconditionally.

Little hands patting at her arm broke their conversation. “What is it, my sweet?” Dany asked giving Arielle’s chin a chuck.

“When is papa coming home?” Arielle asked. “I hope it’s soon. I miss the two of you telling us bedtime stories.” She pouted, her bottom lip sticking out pitifully. The king and his queen had a nightly routine of putting their children to bed with a story of their choosing.

“Yes, we haven’t seen papa in forever!” Aedon drawled, throwing his hands up in the air before collapsing into Elwynn’s arms. Aedon missed their play fighting. He missed sharing his toys with his papa and his wooden sword missed the clang against his father’s.

Elwynn giggled holding her brother to her. Ellie missed their trainings. Aside from sword fighting, Papa had just started couching her on using the bow and arrow. Thinking for a moment, she counted the days in her head. Her papa promised that he’d come back within two weeks. He’d been gone for… thirteen, fourteen days now. She gasped in realization. “He’s coming back today isn’t he? I counted the days!” Elwynn exclaimed in excitement, her purple eyes large and shining with glee.

“Really, mama? Really?” The twins whipped their head around to look at her simultaneously, wearing identical wide-eyed, slack mouth expressions on their faces.

Dany couldn’t hold back an amused smile. Her darling children were such a joy to watch. Their faces held nothing back, revealed everything they felt so clearly. Their eyes showed everything that was running through their minds. They held no secrets in their purity.

“Yes, my babies. He’ll be arriving home soon,” informed their mother.

“Hooray!!!” The children yelled. Grabbing onto each other’s hands, the children shot to their feet and began spinning in a circle happily. Their dresses and hair bouncing up and down as they jumped. Sensing their excitement, Ghost joined in their cheer, running around them, his tail wagging back and forth behind him.

“I’d best be getting a move on.” Tyrion shouted to Dany over the ruckus. “I have a certain grape harvester to rendezvous with.” He pushed himself off the chaise, side stepping around the jumping children and ambled over to the door. “A very pretty, very feminine grape harvester to be exact. Say hello to Jon for me!” Tossing a wink at Dany over his shoulder, he yanked the door open, bottle of wine still grasped in his hand. Shaking her head at his retreating figure, Dany laughed as he slipped out the door. Typical Tyrion.

“Children!” With a clap of her hands, Dany called to them. “And Ghost, of course.” All three heads plus their wolf swiveled to look at her. “I need your help.”

The azure waves glittered under the sun as the king flew across the vast open ocean. After a full two days of travel and two whole weeks without his family, he was almost there. Each flap of the dragon’s wings took him closer and closer to his destination which he could see growing in the distance.

Home.

Down in the gardens, three children and their mother meandered through the huge hedge maze that their father had designed for them. The hedges were planted since before the twins were born and within three years, the fast growing plants grew and grew to its current state, standing at five feet. The maze was built around an old lemon tree on a field of dandelions. The couple had found this location one day, shortly after moving in to the Red Keep. They wandered through the gardens exploring. Neither of them had been there before so they made it a point to get to know their new home. Taking a turn they reached a vastly different part of the gardens, the area looked unmanned, like no one had cared for it for years. Unkempt grass grew wild, vines and thorny brambles climbed all over the walls. As they walked on, they came to a clearing and right in the middle stood a lemon tree. Though it was not bearing any fruit at the time, Dany had recognised it immediately from her dreams and that vague hint of lemon wafting from the leaves as they drew closer. She had fallen in love with it instantly. For so long, ever since she was a child, the representation of home to her had always included a lemon tree. That afternoon, the king and queen sat under it, making plans for their future together which included how they would create the perfect little nook for their children to play in.

“This is a bit scary” Aedon gulped. His pouty pink lips wobbled slightly as he curled his fingers around his twin’s.

Little Aedon was usually quite courageous but being only a child of three everything seemed so much larger. The leafy green walls of the maze loomed overhead almost as if they were about to close in and swallow him up whole.

The girls however, weren’t the least bit phased. “Don’t be scared, big brother! This is exciting!” Arielle tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s an avent… adve…” A little furrow appeared between her brows. Tugging on Dany’s skirt, the princess asked: ”Mama? What’s the word again?”

“Adventure, my darling.”

“Adventure.” Parroted the princess with a firm nod. Her silver curls bouncing with her bobbing head.

“Yeah! We have the blood of the wolves in our veins and fire of the dragons in our bellies, we’ll be fine. Just follow me.” Elwynn knew the way like the back of her hand, having explored every inch of the maze since the day the hedges were rooted into the soil, when the short shrubs had only a few leaves attached to their branches. “Here.” Sticking out her hands, Elwynn offered it to her brother and sister. “We’ll hold hands. That way we won’t get separated and you can hold on tightly if you get scared.”

Smiling, the twins placed their hands in hers. Fear gone without a trace, replaced with a renewed enthusiasm.

“Let’s go!” Elwynn cheered, pulling a giggling Arielle and Aedon along with her as she marched on ahead. “Mama! Come on!”

“Be careful, Ellie! Don’t go too far,” Admonished their mother. She wanted keep a protective eye on her babies just in case something happened to them. At the same time, she couldn’t suppress the strong sense of pride that expanded within her chest. Her children were everything she’d hoped for and more. They were kind, bright, brave and most of all they loved each other. She only hoped that it would remain that way and that they would care for each other regardless of the influences they will no doubt face from the people they meet and the ordeals they will stumble upon when they grew older.

“Alright, mama.” Elwynn hollered. The children slowed down and waited for their mama to catch up with them. Then, they made their way together through the twists and turns of the maze to the exit and into the field.

Settling the basket of flowers she held in her hands along with her trusty old tome of flower meanings by the lemon tree, Dany said to her children: “Here’s what we’re going to do.” Kneeling in front of them, from the basket of five different bunches of flowers, she retrieved three bunches and handed them to the children. “We’re going hide these flowers in the maze for your papa to find.”

“Hide and seek!” Aedon chirped.

“In a way, yes. A scavenger hunt to be exact.” Dany couldn’t resist giving his protruding little belly a light poke, enticing a high-pitched yip from the boy. His sisters shared a look dripping with mischief and decided to launch a tickle fest to their brother’s mid section.

Aedon’s childish surprised shrieks filled the air as he covered his belly with his hands, batting at their fingers. His little face gradually flushed red as he bowed over, giggling.

Watching her children tease and play with each other, Dany couldn’t help feel a bit envious. Growing up, she wondered why she didn’t have more than one sibling. Maybe if she had another sister or brother, Viserys wouldn’t have vented all his frustrations on her, the sole outlet of release for his anger. In retrospect though, she wouldn’t wish that on any child. Her brother wasn’t the nicest big brother, but she still remembered the good times, the times when they were little, when they’d have fun together in the house with the red door, before any semblance of their childhood evaporated and was replaced with so much anger, discontent and greed.

For her children, she wished that their childhood would last a long time. That they would have ample chance to experience what it is like to live a carefree life in a peaceful world, with no need to flee from city to city, with no hardship and no pain, in this new world that she’s fought so hard to change.

Eventually, his laughter began to transition into tears. Clearing her throat, Dany put on her sternest mum’s voice. “Girls, that’s enough. Let your brother go.”

The princesses relented, moving their hands away from a now weepy, teary Aedon. Hiccupping, he stumbled over to his mother. “Mama…”

“Hush, my sweet boy. You’re alright.” Dany wrapped him up snug in her arms, brushing back his silver locks from his face, rubbing a palm up and down his back, hoping to sooth the poor child. “Girls, I think we may have went a bit overboard, haven’t we?”

Elwynn nodded, rocking back and forth on her feet looking sheepishly at her brother. “I’m sorry for tickling you so much.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Arielle reached for her brother’s hand. “I didn’t know you would cry.”

“I shouldn’t have started it.” Dany planted a kiss to Aedon’s flushed cheek. “I’m sorry as well. Forgive me?” Dany murmured, her heart aching at her baby’s tears. Her fingers reached out to chase them away.

Shaking his head fervently, Aedon’s face contorted into a broody frown, very much like his father’s when something wasn’t going the way he planned. “I’m not mad at you! It’s my flower, mama!” The prince only proceeded to cry further. Rubbing at his eyes, he lifted the bunch of purplish blue Anemones up to show his mother. Through his squirming and wriggling, between his snorts and shrieks, the flowers in his clenched fists were squashed against his chest. As a result, they were now looking a bit bruised, bent at the stalks and some of the petals had fallen off too. “Papa won’t like them anymore!” Aedon wailed, big fat drops of tears streaked freely down his flushed cheeks.

Dany felt as if her heart was going to melt into a puddle within her rib cage. Her boy was such a sensitive sweetheart. “Aww… don’t worry sweetling, your papa will love them all the same. As long as it’s something his children give him.” Dany assured the child, her fingers gently caressing his face, relieving him of the salty moisture that was being squeezed out from his very active tear ducts.

“Yeah? Mama?” said the boy between hiccups.

“I’m sure of it.” Dany said with a bop to his tomato red nose. The boy shot her a wobbly grin, feeling better at last. His older sister swabbed away the last of his tears and snot with the train of her dress, while his baby sister showed him her goofiest monkey face to tease a smile out of the toddler and a gave him a hug just to be sure that he felt better.

With a smile and that sense of pride swimming in her heart, Dany straightened back up to stand, brushing off the grass stains on her knees. “Alright, let’s get to work, shall we?”

The three tots nodded their heads eagerly, rocking back and forth on the balls of their feet, ready to get on with their assigned task.

“Make sure to hide them in the bushes. Can you do that for me please?”

They nodded again. Feet already inching towards the maze they’d just came out off.

In the basket by her feet, held two more bunches of flowers and another greener bundle of leaves. Dany took the remaining bouquet from the basket, leaving the leaves behind. “I’ll keep you for later.” She thought, smirking to herself. Jon was in for a surprise. To her children, she instructed: “Stick together now.”

The children complied. Elwynn slid a free hand into Dany’s larger one, Aedon grabbed hold of Elwynn’s blouse and Arielle brought up the rear with her fingers in Aedon’s shirt.

Together, the quartet headed back into the maze.

That’s odd, Jon thought as he dismounted his horse. Instead of his family, it was Missandei who stood by the entrance to the Red Keep. Missandei and Ghost. Which was even stranger. Ghost rarely ever left the children’s sides since Elwynn’s birth. Did something happen?

Ghost bounded towards his master the moment his feet hit the ground. Leaping up in attempts to reach his face and smother him in slobbery kisses. Standing on his hind legs, Ghost stood with his front paws on Jon’s shoulders. The king chuckled ruffling the wolf’s fur by his face. “I’m glad to see you again, boy!

“Welcome home, your Highness.” Missandei greeted him warmly, her hands holding something behind her back. “I hope the skies have been clear?”

“Aye, the weather had been kind.” Jon replied, a hand stroking through Ghost’s white fur. “Is everything alright? Where’s Dany? And the children?” Jon queried, the beginnings of worry rising in his chest.

“They’re perfectly fine. Although the queen did ask me to give you this.” Bringing her hands to the front, Jon noticed that she was holding a roll of parchment. Missandei entrusted the scroll to him with a half smile, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Jon eyed her with an arched eyebrow. To him she looked like she was keeping a secret from him.

The note was held close with a red ribbon. Tugging it off with a flourish, unrolling the scroll, Jon instantly recognized his wife’s neat penmanship. Across the parchment she wrote:

Find the four flowers in the maze. Follow the flowers to us, come to us, your family, my love.

“Huh. What could Dany be up to?” He asked absently.

Missandei simply shrugged, that cryptic smile still upon her lips. Definitely suspicious. Something was up.

Looking down at Ghost, he asked: “Do you know?”

Titling his head, Ghost merely barked.

Head into the maze, find the flowers and out the other side to his family.

“I guess I have to locate the flowers hidden in any of these hedges?” A perplexed Jon stood with his arms crossed across his chest at the entrance of the maze, pondering. “That’s a lot of hedges.”

Ghost headed into the maze ahead of him. Looking back at his master, the wolf waited with a tilt of his head and a whine almost as if urging him to get a move on. Seeing Jon still standing there, he grew impatient. His whine became a bark.

“I’m coming! And you’re helping me search.” Jon patted his wolf on the head. The king only hoped his wife didn’t hide them too well. The maze wasn’t that big but it was still big enough to feel like he was searching for a flower in a field of flowers.

Turning this way and that in the maze, thank the gods it didn’t take long for Jon to spot the first flash of colour among all the green. The first blossom was a bunch of Stargazer Lilies held together with a similar red ribbon as the parchment Missandei had given him earlier, not so hidden in the side of a hedge. The lilies were gorgeous. They looked like stars with five petals forming the five points with their protruding pistil and stamens forming the middle. The petals were pink with speckles of red dotted all over. The edges were lined with white and the sweet, poignant fragrance they emitted reminded him of the glasshouses in Winterfell. “One down, three more to go.” His heart began to gallop. He was almost there and he couldn’t wait to see them.

Walking along, Jon could picture his children and their gleeful laughter, roaming about the maze to find the perfect hiding spot, obscure but not so hidden that he couldn’t find them. He wondered what they were doing this very moment just on the other side of this maze? Were they just as eager to see him, as he was to see them?

Just then, he felt a damp nose nudging at his leg. “What is it? Did you find one?” Ghost averted his eyes to a spot behind Jon. Following his gaze, he turned to find a bunch of bright royal purple Pansy just by his head. Plucking them out of the bush, the king had to laugh. He was so occupied with looking for them at ground level he neglected to remember that his wife, just like in everything she did, was very thorough. He suspected she would have been involved in the hiding too.

“Two more left. Come on, boy.” With the flowers in one hand, the king and his wolf went on through the labyrinth.

The next blossom he picked up were a cluster of red Petunias left right in the middle of the grassy path. “Convenient.” Jon added the bundled blossoms to his collection. It would seem that one of his darling tots were eager that he got to them faster and wanted to make his job easier. Which suited him just fine, leaving him with only one more.

This was a pleasant change, he thought, glancing down at the sizeable bouquet in the crook of his arm. Usually, it was he who planned the surprises for his dear wife. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d gotten flowers or a surprise. Though his mind was beginning to piece together the meanings of the flowers, thanks to his elusive knowledge of botany not many people knew about, he still wondered what his queen had to say utilising these particular flowers. He couldn’t wait to hear it from her.

Ghost pranced by his side, tail swinging jauntily behind him, looking delighted as can be to be with his master again. Keeping his nose to the ground at occasions to help in his master’s search. As they reached the last turn, with the exit looming just ahead, Ghost suddenly rushed forward, sticking his snout into a hedge and returned to Jon with last bunch of flowers gingerly clamped between his jaws. “Thank you, well done Ghost!” Jon accepted the bunch from him. It was a delicate bouquet of Anemone. The blossoms looked a bit battered, missing a few petals here and there, but they were still lovely nonetheless and meant so much to him already. They were quite rare in these regions, he had no clue they even existed in the gardens. These flowers were special for their natural ability to close when night comes and open to the sun when daylight breaks. He just knew that the children would love to see them, while still attached to their roots of course. He’d have to take them on a hunt for them during one of their afternoon adventures soon. With that, all four had been found. Time to meet his family just around the bend.

Among the field of yellow and white blossoms, three young children huddled close to their mother, bending stalks, weaving flower crowns and blowing at dandelion fluffs. Each seed carried a wish to the sky, a wish for their papa to appear before their eyes. Just then, their furry big brother leapt through the stalks, trampling across the field, barking. All four heads turned towards him and their eyes alighted on the figure standing at the edge of the clearing. Their wishes came true!

“Papa!” His children called out to him, children that he never thought he would have the chance to father. Childish voices soared through the air, so clear, so crisp like a cool spring breeze drifting through the leaves of a tree, carrying the distinct purity only the children of summer could have, as tiny sandaled feet pounded against the ground. Three tiny bodies rushed through the grass, sending fluffy dandelion seeds scattering everywhere. Their outstretched hands reached for him in search of that familial connection between a father and his children. Jon dropped to his knees with his arms held apart, ready to catch his prince and princesses barrelling straight for him. An armful of mini humans later, he found himself on his backside having toppled backwards with a grunt, his arms as full as his heart was bursting.

“Papa, we’ve missed you so very much!” Elwynn exclaimed, hugging him around the neck.

“Yeah! You’ve been gone forever!” Arielle rubbed her cheek back and forth against his tunic, like a cat welcoming her parent home from a hard day of work. In a way that seemed applicable to him too.

“Did ya see any White Walkers beyond the Wall?” Aedon asked, his hands clinging to Jon’s right sleeve.

Ignoring their disapproving whines at him squishing them, the laughing king intensified his grip around his children, dropping smooches all over the crowns of their heads. He simply sat on the ground relishing in the moment, having them so near once more, trying his best to give them two weeks worth of cuddles and snuggles in one ginormous one. These babies and his wife were his everything. The day he held Elwynn in his arms, such a small wriggly thing, bundled up in a blanket, he knew that he would do anything for his children. Then when the twins came along, he knew for certain that he would go to any extent to keep them safe, even if it meant giving his life. Now that he was a father, words that his uncle, who raised him like a father would, resonated with him. Even if it meant being the lone wolf that died, he would do so willingly to ensure that his pack lived on. But before that, he would burn whomever dared to harm his family to ash.

The human heart was such a mysterious organ, one that she was constantly underestimating. Underestimating its capacity to love. Her husband and her offspring interacting made such a beautiful sight, watching from a distance, an overwhelming giddy, fluttery, fuzzy feeling expanded and expanded before melting her heart into a puddle of molten emotions within her chest cavity as moisture gathered in her eyes. All of them, the four beautiful beings that she stood observing, composed a future that once long ago, she never thought would ever be in the cards for her anymore. Sometimes, it almost seemed to good to be true, like a dream, a dream of spring in the darkest, coldest winter. And yet, as her eyes met her husband’s, over the top of their children’s heads, she knew this was true, a reality that was hers. One that she would protect with everything she had.

Leaving the children to play a few feet away, making sure they could still be seen, Dany weaved her fingers through the spaces between her husband’s, where they fit perfectly, where they belonged. She walked them towards the giant lemon tree. Under the shade provided by the foliage, with the scent of lemon in the air, and white lemon blossoms above their heads, Dany nestled herself against the front of Jon’s body. “I spent the whole day planning and researching all this for you, did you know?” She stated feeling extremely proud of herself. The queen had Jon’s bouquet in he hands, clasped in front of her stomach with her arms around her flower almanac that still held all the flowers he’d gifted to her over the years, now long dried of course but the queen had them preserved and pressed into bookmarks so she could keep them for a long, long time. Shimmying slightly to get comfortable, Dany peered up at him, a look of pure bliss painted her enchanting amethyst orbs. After so many years, she was just as mesmerizing as the first moment they met. There was not a side of her that he had uncovered which he hadn’t fell for. Taking the courage and allowing his heart to fall and welcome her into it all those years ago was the best-damned thing he had ever done in his then, bleak and dreary life. At the moment though that old life seemed so far away. The endless winter had finally turned to spring.

“Thank you, my queen.” The king cuddled his lover in the warm enclosure of his arms, cherishing the feel of her back in his embrace. “This has to be one of the greatest gifts I’ve had the pleasure of receiving.” Pressing a lingering kiss to her temple, he added: “It comes close to meeting you and the birth of our children of course.”

His queen snuggled back into him, running the tip of her nose indulgently along his neck, breathing in his scent. Not withholding the urge to drop opened mouthed kisses along the expanse of his exposed skin, Dany relished in his shudder with an appreciative hum. How she’d missed him. The scratch of his scruffy beard under her fingers, up and down the her inner thighs, the touch of the calloused pads of his fingers that always reduced her into a trembling mess, the warm family moments they shared together with their babies, just everything that was him.

“Do you know why I chose these flowers for you?”

“Why did you choose them, my love?”

Tucking her head into the bend where Jon’s neck met his shoulder, Dany spoke softly, eager to savour this rare tender moment which didn’t come by very often now that they were parents: “These flowers in particular allow for a smoother storytelling process. The meaning of these flowers can be strung into a short tale of my woes while you were away.” She batted her eyelids at him playfully, before breaking out into a giggle, one that Jon couldn’t help but join in. “Would you like to hear it?” Her fingers already rearranging the bouquets in the right order as she spoke.

“Of course I would.” Jon replied, shifting her hair away from her face and placing the lock behind her ear. He loved her like this without her many intricate braids, with just the one running down the middle, made up of two smaller braids that held her hair away from the sides of her face, leaving the rest of her locks flowing free. In place of her royal crown was a flower crown, circling her head. In his eyes the ensemble made her appear no less regal but softer, more vulnerable in a way that made her even more beautiful, more carefree, away from her worries and duties, more like the Dany so often hidden under all her titles.

“Let’s start with this one.” Dipping her head low, Dany welcomed the sweet floral scent into her nose. “Stargazer lilies are really pretty aren’t they?” She asked. “I couldn’t sleep without you holding me, so I went strolling one night an the scent of these flowers drew me to them, I picked them and got the idea to give you flowers like you tend to give me! These flowers were the perfect candidate. You see, the predominant felling when you left was an acute sense of longing. These flowers carry that sentiment.” Twirling a lily around and watching their red speckles catch the light, she remembered how the children would query every night of when their papa would come home. Every time they did so, her heart would ache just a little more. “I’ve missed you, Jon, terribly. Our babies did too. We’ve never parted for such an extended period of time in so long.”

“I’ve missed you too. I missed my family. It felt odd being away, like a part of me was missing. Which I suppose was true.” Kissing her on the back of her head, he reflected: “A big portion of my heart stayed behind back here, with you. Seems like I can’t stray away from you, my queen. ”

“Good. You’d better remember that.” Dany flicked at his nose defiantly with the flowers, laughing lightly as he sneezed.

“Aye, I will.” Jon promised, sniffling lightly. Lifting the heavy tome up and out of Dany’s lap to wind his arms around her to rest on her belly, Jon cheekily nipped at her earlobe, making her yelp. Smirking as she shot a flustered glare back at him, he nodded with his head at the flowers, speaking an unspoken ‘continue please’.

Dany cleared her throat, all the while tyring hard not to smile at her husband’s mischievous capers. Sometimes her stoic wolf could be just like their children, which was something she found surprisingly endearing. Pulling Jon’s arms tighter around her, Dany picked out the Pansy next. “Essentially, the Pansy conveys the meaning of remembrance. Remembering events of the past.” Playing with the round petals under her fingers, a small smile stole across her lips. “Sometimes during the night when I felt particularly lonely, my mind would fill with all the things we’ve been through, all the good and the bad.”

“That was what I did too.” It was the same for him. Lying in his childhood bedroom, in his childhood bed back in Winterfell, everything around him looked the same and yet everything was different now. The space beside him in bed felt empty and cold without his love, a thousand miles away. The occasional raven from Kings Landing and the thoughts of his darling family were the only things that kept him on his task and the prospect of getting back to them soon pushed him to work harder. “The thoughts of the happy times we’ve spent together, are your greatest treasure huh?” Jon’s fingers reached forward to curve around the edge of a pansy petal.

Nuzzling her forehead against his, Dany hummed. “Yes.”

“As are mine.” Jon rubbed his nose alongside hers. “Always.”

“As the day of your return approached, I began feeling much lighter, my heart was so full to the brim with,” Waving the bunch of Anemone before his eyes, Dany could almost feel an echo of excitement in her building once more. “Anticipation, Jon.”

The king laughed. He knew that feeling all too well.

“And now that you’re back, I can give you these Petunias that fully represent what I hope we’ll have more of in the future.” Gently placing the flowers back in Jon’s hands, Dany wrapped her smaller ones around his. “I wish with all my heart that I will be able to fulfil my endless desire to spend the rest of my life in your company, because no matter what we’re going through, you make me feel sure of myself, you sooth every frazzled nerve that comes up and you just…. make me so happy.”

When they first met, the queen had no intention of getting used to the presence of this broody man, the solemn king in the North, no intention at all to grow close to him, to let him steal his way into that firmly guarded vault that held her vulnerability, held her heart. He did so in such a sneaky way that when she realised her feelings for him, the seeds had already taken root and had grown into little buds of love that would soon bloom into flowers that never withered even in the harshest of winters.

Jon was speechless. His throat so clogged up with emotions the only way he could react was to capture his wife’s lovely mouth with his.

“Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more…” He murmured against her lips when they parted reluctantly for breath. “I love you and would gladly spend my whole life working my hardest to bring you only joy, after all that you’ve been through, all the hardship and pain. You deserve only happiness.”

Chasing after his lips for more pecking kisses, Dany uttered breathlessly: “You deserve it too. Let’s agree to be happy together.”

“That sounds like a solid plan.” Kissing her back with ardour, Jon couldn’t agree more.

The dimly lit nursery was dark and the light snoring from two slumbering princesses was the only sound that could be heard. The only occupants awake were the king and his little prince.

“Papa?” A sleepy Aedon called out. His eyes were already drooping, but he had a very important question in mind that he needed to ask.

Jon came to sit by his son’s bed. “What is it, my boy?” He asked, tucking the covers securely around the child.

“Do you think I’m weak?” Came the prince’s voice, muffled from his mouth being half hidden under the covers. Aedon’s eyes darted around the room, not meeting his father’s directly.

Taken aback, Jon had to ask, his voice curious with a hint of worry. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, today when we were going into the lemon tree place, I got scared had to hold Ellie and Ari’s hands.” Aedon’s voice was beginning to wobble. Even in the dark, Jon could tell that tears were welling in his eyes. His son reminded him a bit of his baby brother Rickon. Aedon was such a sweet, sensitive boy who had the bravery of the wolf and dragon combined, residing in his blood but sometimes Jon wondered if he felt unsure of himself. He wasn’t the wildest or loudest child. He was the quiet, cautious one who never jumped into situations that could endanger him. The silent wolf that came prowling through the trees in the woods, silent but loud when need be. He was the perfect balance between his wilful sisters.

Pulling the blanket away from his son’s body, Jon gently lifted the boy up to sit on his lap. “Aedon, listen to me carefully now.” Tipping his head up by the chin so that their eyes met, Jon stated firmly: “Being afraid doesn’t make you weak. There is nothing wrong in being scared sometimes. In fact, it proves that you are strong.”

“How?” Aedon asked, confused.

“To be weak is to be brave. Let me ask you this, Aedon.” Jon’s hand came to curl around his son’s arm, shifting the boy to sit with his side resting against his chest. “Did you make it out of the maze?”

Aedon nodded, still looking up at his father warily.

“Then that’s all that matters! Only by being brave, allowed you to face your fear. That bravery in you gave you the courage to overcome that fear and come out at the end!”

“But… I still had to let my sisters guide me!” The boy frowned.

“That is also a sign of the bravery that you have in you. Being able to admit that you were scared and ask for help is a good thing.” Rocking his son gently from side to side, Jon said: “Besides, we don’t have to be brave all the time. Just as long as it appears when it’s needed, to protect the things you hold dear for example, like your family or to do what is right, what is necessary.”

Aedon’s eyes grew large as an unbridled grin formed across his face, pushing up his chubby cheeks. “I was brave, papa?”

“Aye.” Jon reassured him with a ruffle to his curls. “You are so very brave. And who knows, maybe one day your sisters will need you to defend them. Maybe even your mama and I might need your help.”

“No way!” Aedon said in a breathy voice, tinged with disbelief. “Me?”

“Aye. You will need to bring out that bravery you have inside here.” Jon pointed at Aedon’s chest. “Be the dragon you were born to be, be the wolf that protects his pack. Can you do that my boy?”

Aedon puffed up his chest with his lips pursed into the tightest line and nodded his head so vehemently his curls bounced all over the place.

“Good. Remember, being afraid does not make you weak.” Sticking out his pinkie finger, Jon offered it to the boy. “Promise you’ll remember that?”

Aedon hooked his tiny finger as best as he could around his father’s. “I promise.”

“Now, let’s get you to bed. You’re going to need your energy if you want to hunt some White Walkers with me tomorrow!” Jon tossed his son up in the air lightly, relieved to hear the sound of his son’s cheerful laughter. Urging the boy into the confines of his blanket, and watching with a smile as he lay back down before pulling the blanket up to his chin. Finally with the boy firmly tucked in, Jon said to him: “I love you, my son.”

“I love you, papa. Good night.” Aedon mumbled as his eyes fell shut, ready to join his sisters on their expedition through the land of dreams.

With lingering kisses to each other their slumbering heads, Jon crept out of the nursery, leaving the door open just a crack.

“Are the children asleep?” Dany asked from their bed.

“Aye. Arielle and Ellie knocked out before I even got to the end of the first page and you know how much they love that story.” Jon replied with a fond smile lifting the corners of his lips. The princesses requested that story almost nightly. It was the tale of a warrior princess mounting her dragon and slaying the hideous Chimera with dragon fire. It was very true to their characters. He wondered what kind of princesses they’d grow up to be, his beautiful daughters. One thing that he knew for certain was, they’d grow to be just as strong as their mother and their aunts in the North. It was in their blood after all.

“Ugh…. I’m exhausted!” Jon groaned, collapsing onto his side of bed, his head falling to rest on the queen’s thigh.

Dany ran her fingers lovingly through his silky curls. “I bet you are. But you can’t sleep yet!”

“What? Why?” Jon exclaimed with a pout, looking ridiculously like his children when they didn’t get their way.

“There is something else I saved for you.” A sly half smile fleeted across her mouth as she held up a sprig of mistletoe between her fingers. “I’m sure you know what this little plant means?”

“Mistletoe huh?” Jon sat up and crawled over to his wife, a languid smirk tugging at his mouth, until there was only a scant distance between their lips. “If my memory serves me,” he hummed, thinking for a moment, “it means you’re sending me a thousand kisses?” Jon murmured, his breath rolling over Dany’s face. He wasn’t aware of just how much he’d missed her in bed until they were just an inch away from touching. How he’d missed his lovely wife, the warmth of her pressed against him, the taste of her, her scent, her talented tongue doing sinful things to his body that made him want to combust under her, and the sight of her being a mother to their children, just her everything.

Turns out she’d been missing him too, for she craved him, dearly. The queen scooted herself closer to him, an arm curled around Jon’s neck, she pulled him to her. Her eyes slipped shut as their lips brushed against one another, not quite kissing just yet but grazing softly as they breathed together, savouring the closeness of their bodies, reunited at last. The contented hum released by the queen radiated from her lips to his, sending delicious tremors coursing through Jon’s body.

“Well…. I couldn’t send them to you attached to the feet of a raven, so I saved them up for you. Now that you’re back….” Wiggling the green parasitic sprig above their heads, her lips blossomed into a grin that he felt against his own. “Feel free to come and claim your kisses anytime, my darling husband.”

That was all a very reinvigorated Jon needed to pounce forward and pin his wife to their bed. The sprig of mistletoe fell to the floor, soon to be joined by their clothes as the king and queen spent the rest of the night rediscovering one another, reacquainting themselves with the spots on each other’s bodies that made them tremble and topple over the edge into the arms of carnal ecstasy.

It was good to be home, Jon concluded. As they say, home is where the heart was, amongst many other things.

#day 1 #jonerysweek #jonerys week 2018 #jonerysfic #jonerys #jon x daenerys #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #jonerys fanfic #jonerys fan fiction #jonerys family fluff #jonerys fluff #baby targaryens #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #my fic

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iknowff · 4 years

Text

. two : the connection

6:02am

I was dreaming about Omari again. For some reason, he came to me often while I slept. He had picked me up, as he usually did, but, somehow I knew that I wasn’t coming back this time. I was clueless as to where we were, but I also didn't have a single worry. I was with O and I was safe. That, I was sure of.

We were flying through the air, which wasn't odd for me because I’d had more than a few dreams where I could fly. Still, there was a difference. Whenever I’d be flying, I was usually doing so because something or someone was chasing me and I had to get away. And it was usually very dark as well. But now, I didn't discern any danger and everything around us was shining so brightly. I’d also never been able to actually stay up there. Whenever I’d stop flying, I would immediately start to float back down. That wasn't the case here. We stopped and were just suspended in the sky with no effort. He laid me down on what felt the way I thought a cloud should feel and, starting at the top of my head, he kissed my scars one by one. In some miraculous way, they all disappeared with a single touch of his lips. Amazed, I smiled and watched as he continued to make his way down my bare body. At first my nudity confused me, as did the lack of discomfort that came with it, but, when he reached my Love, I no longer cared. My grin slowly fell as he spread my legs and, without an ounce of hesitancy, he began to spoil me with gentle kisses. I was stunned, but it never entered my mind to stop him. I had to admit, it felt good.

“Oh my... aaah,” I moaned softly, lacing my right hand with his left. It was almost like I could actually feel his tongue slipping around a part of me that only myself and Cam had ever touched. However, in this illusion, I had no problem with that fact becoming fiction. Though I had moved past the initial shock, unfortunately, I could sense my sleep coming to an end. He started to fade away as my eyes softly fluttered open, but there was still someone between my legs. And it wasn't Omari. I looked down and Cam had my thighs stretched wide, one arm across my stomach, licking the shit out of my pussy. I tried to get away, but my every pursuit was quickly shut down. Whenever he realized that I was trying to escape his firm grasp, he licked faster, sucked harder, rubbed deeper.

No matter how hard I fought, my body began to respond on its own, grinding into his face. Before long, my hips were in the air, he was buried between my lips, and I had relinquished all control. I gripped the couch with both hands in an attempt to evade the floor. “Fuck,” I whined, so upset with myself. Then the self betrayal reached a new level as I clenched my eyes, having the most regrettable orgasm ever. I hated giving him the satisfaction that, even at a time like this, he still had the power to make me cum. My body fell into the cushions and I hid my face, embarrassed. I don't know what the fuck he thought this was doing, because he hadn't swayed me whatsoever. I felt no different about things than I had before.

He came up with tears in his eyes, apologizing and telling me how much he loved me. “You know I love you. With my whole heart, Jade. I'm sorry.” Seeing him cry shook me up a bit, I won't lie, but I was so far away from succumbing to his will.

He came closer and laid his head on my chest. Not even the smallest part of me welcomed the contact, and I was not about to let this be over so easily. “It's not... that simple.” He looked up and I reached to turn on the lamp behind us. “Look what you did to me.” My neck held marks from his fingernails, my scalp was bruised, there were noticeable rug burns on my knee and both hips, my face was so badly swollen that a small cut had formed at the corner of my mouth, and there was blood stuck on my gum line and between my teeth.

“Oh my God.” He quietly examined every injury, running his fingers gingerly over the damage, seemingly frightened by my appearance.

“This is love, Cameron?”

“I'm so sorry, baby. I swear, I'm gonna work on being better. I don't wanna do stuff like this to you. I'ma get help.”

I didn't fall for any of that shit. Sadly, this was the routine. I'd get my ass beat, then I'd get fucked, next was the apology and last came the promise of counseling. A promise that he never kept. This was my life now. A life that I could not have imagined in my wildest dreams.

Cameron Makisig Taylor. He wasn't always this way.

We had been together for five years now, the first three being probably the most happy years of my adult life. He was always such a sweetheart. He'd call or text just to hear my voice or tell me he loved me, bring me flowers for no reason; you know, just little things to show me he cared. We would talk for hours about anything, and nobody could make me laugh as hard. We were just in tune with one another, damn near inseparable. But, shortly after the situation became a little more serious, after we moved in together, everything changed. Out of nowhere, he just switched up on me. All of the sweetness was replaced with constant anger. It started with him taking my car. To this day, I still have no idea what he did with it. Without a ride of my own, though, I couldn't go anywhere or do anything without him. But he somehow always found a way to accuse me of stepping outside of the relationship. Which I never understood. I made the decision to stick it out, thinking this behavior was only temporary. However, after two years had passed me by, I learned a major lesson; fun wasn’t the only thing that made time fly. Misery did it just as well.

He moved us to Los Angeles from Atlanta about a year and a half ago for a chance at better career opportunities, he'd claimed. But, the more thought I gave it, the more I began to believe there had been some malice behind his motives. I was taken so far away from my family, or anyone I knew for that matter, that I had no choice but to spend all of my time with him. I wasn’t even sure what it was that he did. He had a couple of degrees and he was working for some company before we came out here. Whatever he was doing now required him to leave home for months at a time, usually around two, and his salary was ridiculous. That was where my knowledge ended. I had my suspicions, but I knew better than to question him about anything. I'd just convinced myself that as long as the bills were kept current and we weren’t living on the street, everything was ok. He wasn't the least bit stingy with his leftovers either. He just made sure to monitor my transactions very closely. Shopping had become a way of life for me. It was basically my therapy.

Almost as soon as we got to Cali, he left for work. For a whole week, I stayed inside, afraid to leave the house. Not only was it a new scene for me, but I was heavily intimidated by the fact that I wasn’t familiar with anyone in the entire state. Then one day, feeling unusually courageous, I just got an Uber. After a little convincing, along with some financial compensation, that lady drove me all over LA.

I met Omari that day.

I walked into this sneaker boutique just to look around and there he was, standing with four boxes beside him and still browsing.

I recall thinking he had a nice deep brown, caramel complexion with really smooth looking skin. His hair was how he always wore it; in neatly twisted braids that ran straight back, falling a copious amount past his shoulders. He had just enough facial hair and it was groomed perfectly to match. Likewise, he was dressed nicely in jeans and a crisp white v-neck tee that hugged his toned arms and chest perfectly. The black diamonds in his ears glistened in the sunlight, as did the gold beaded bracelet around his wrist. His feet held a pair of black high top Chucks and I caught a Louis Vuitton belt peeking from underneath his shirt right before I turned to mind my own business. Long story short, he was very well put together... and so damn fine.

I still remember like it was yesterday.

“Um, I know it’s a lot, but can I get these in an 8?”

“Oh, no problem.” The associate, who had just been helping him, eagerly studied my selections. Her memory must've been outstanding, because I definitely would’ve had to take my phone out and snap a pic. “I'll be right back”.

I smiled, thanking her as I resumed my search. I wasn’t exactly interested in anything else, I was more so making the conscious effort to keep myself distracted. I had briefly considered taking a seat when, from the corner of my eye, I could see him starting to come over. I immediately threw all of my attention to a pair of kicks in front of me. They weren't even cute, but that was neither here nor there. I just needed to conceal the fact that I had been checking him out something serious on the low.

“Hey,” he rasped, once he was standing next to me. I turned to him and he had the cutest grin on his face. I couldn't help but smile back. Plus he looked even better up close.

“Hey.”

“I don't mean to interrupt, and I know you don't know me, but… I just had to come over and say hello. You are beautiful.”

Completely caught off guard, I blushed almost instantly. My ears weren't even tuned for that type of compliment anymore. He was serious, too. I took my gaze down for a moment, using a slight laugh as part of my recovery. “Thank you.” And upon realizing that I liked this guy and didn't want his good smelling self to walk away, I decided to go ahead and introduce myself. “Jade.”

“Omari. Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand to me and I obliged, giving it a shake.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“So, um, where you from? If you don't mind me asking.”

“How you know I'm not from LA?” I jokingly asked. I was nowhere near being from LA, I just wanted to see what he would say.

“I can hear it in your voice.”

I chuckled, fully aware that my accent had given me away. “Yeah, I'm from Georgia.”

“I knew you were from somewhere down south.”

“Yep. So, you from here?” I returned my attention to the wall of shoes in front of me, trying not to stare.

“Yeah. Been here all my life.”

“Ok,” I nodded. “I've only been here for a couple weeks.”

“Oh, for real?”

“Yeah. Today is actually my first time getting out of the house, believe it or not.”

“Well, maybe I can show you around my city sometime.”

And, just like that, I was back. “Maybe…”

I hadn't been able keep him out of my sight for more than a few seconds, but his proposition had warranted at least a glance; I had to see if he was playing around. The deliberate eye contact I was met with only erased some of my doubt, still his confidence was a turn on for certain. I was smiling at him, he was smiling at me, and I was more than sure that he was in possession of the prettiest smile I had ever seen. His lips were on point, too; nice and full with a couple beauty marks adorning the bottom one. I found myself licking my own lips, wondering if his were as soft as they looked.

Right in the midst of a moment that needed to be disrupted, the saleswoman walked over toting my five boxes effortlessly.

“Thank you,” I told her, not just for the footwear, but also for breaking me away from whatever this was. I mean, I was stuck.

“You're welcome. I'll be at the counter when you're ready, and let me know if you need anything else.”

“Ok.” I sat down on the bench and came out of my left shoe, grabbing the first box from the stack. “So, Omari…”

“Yeah?”

“You do this often?” I quizzed, slipping a fresh sneaker onto my foot; undeniably one of the best feelings in the world.

“Do what?”

“Just walk over to random women and start conversations.” I grinned up at him standing beside me and he chuckled.

“Well, if I can be honest, you caught my eye as soon as you walked in. I like your vibe. And you looked so nice standing over here, I couldn't leave without at least getting your name.”

He was such a gentleman, and quite the charmer. He had a way with words, for sure. My guard was still very much intact, but his company didn’t make me uncomfortable. In fact, the interaction was rather flattering. I didn't know the kid still had it.

“And now you know my name and where I’m from.”

He laughed, dropping his head. “You right. But you know they say good things come in threes.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar.”

“So, now I need your number to complete the trilogy. I mean, if that's cool with you.”

I can’t lie, I was tickled. He was that cute, corny funny I was very fond of. “Yeah,” I agreed, without even a second thought. Despite the obvious, I didn't wanna say no. “You like these?” I stood and we both looked down at the deep pink suede Nike Blazer I had been wearing.

“Yeah. They cold with the gum bottom.”

“Right?! I was thinking the same thing. I'ma get 'em.”

We made small talk until I'd tried on my last pair. Then the conversation carried on while he tried on a few more. The six or seven other people in the store probably thought we knew each other. He was surprisingly easy to talk to for a complete stranger. We eventually exchanged numbers and, ever since that day, we'd been down like four flats on a Cadillac.

He was the only friend I had.

#original fiction #original characters #black characters

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sickficsbypyroyoshi · 7 years

Text

Sick fic #7 (Roy)

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be. Of all the days to get sick, why today?

Roy had been anticipating this day for months now. He, along with his two best friends Dallas and Jamie, were waiting in line to see Fleshgod Apocalypse live in concert. He had requested the day off work weeks ago, bought the tickets ages in advance and had kept them pinned on the refrigerator so he wouldn’t lose them.

The night had finally come, but Roy knew he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. He’d had an upset stomach for the past couple hours, and it was only getting worse as time wore on. It wasn’t going to go away and he knew that. He felt quite nauseous at this point. It was bad enough that he wouldn’t be able to focus on the music.

Dallas and Jamie seemed oblivious to his discomfort, as they were both extremely exited and in fanboy nerdgasm mode.

“Can you believe that Francesco Paoli has only been playing the drums since 2009? That’s crazy!” Jamie said.

“I know, right? A lot of people have been playing almost their whole lives and aren’t even half as good.” Dallas added. “Roy, why are you so quiet? Aren’t you exited?”

“I feel like crap.” Roy admitted. Those were the first words he had said in several minutes.

“Maybe you just have to poop. Sometimes when I get too exited, I feel kind of bad, but then I just take a dump and I feel better.” Jamie assumed.

“No, I don’t think so. I feel sick.”

The doors to the venue opened up a minute later and the line started to move. Since the guys where in the middle of the line, it took a while for them to be admitted and get inside.

Since the doors opened a little late, the first opening band was already on stage setting up their equipment. They didn’t have any technicians, so they had to do it themselves. They were a local act Roy hadn’t heard of, and they were the first of three opening bands.

Initially, Roy’s plan had been to get right up front and center before too many people were in the pit so he could have the best possible view when Fleshgod Apocalypse came on. Now he wasn’t so sure. The air in the venue was hot and heavy, and he could already smell the cheap beer and that sweaty fat fuck in the Slayer shirt, which wasn’t helping his rapidly increasing nausea any. In fact, he was starting to wonder if he was going to throw up at some point. If he erupted with chunks in the pit, the bouncers would probably kick him out.

Venturing into the pit would probably be a bad idea, so he sat at a table near the railing instead. His friends joined him.

“I’m going to get a beer. You want one?” Jamie asked.

“No, I’m good.” Roy replied. Usually he liked beer, but he couldn’t bear the thought of drinking one now.

Dallas eyed the vibrant orange paper bracelet that was around Roy’s left wrist. Since he was only 18, he couldn’t be served alcohol.

“You should give me that so I can get a drink too.” he said.

Despite feeling awful, Roy snickered. “Jamie’s on top of that, don’t you worry.” He pointed to Jamie, who was holding two beers above his head while squeezing his way back to the table.

“Here we go. One beer for me, and one for the underage guy who depends on his older friends to give him alcohol. Which I do, because I’m cool like that.” Jamie slid one beer towards Dallas and then took a swig from his own. “Roy, you sure you don’t want one? I can go back and get another.”

“Jamie I don’t want any beer. I feel sick.” Roy stated. He felt like his guts were twisting around.

“Want some water then?”

“Maybe in a bit.”

“Okay. Just take it easy, you’ll be fine.”

The first opening band, Coven of Whores, took the stage and began their set. Roy watched them with minimum enthusiasm. Musically, they were generic and of average talent at best. The vocalist was down in the pit, pushing people to the ground and spitting on them.

Roy was feeling worse and worse, and his nausea was about to reach critical. Since he didn’t want to take his chances with the bathrooms, going outside was his best bet. He just hoped he could shove his way through the mass of concert goers and make it there.

“Where are you going?” Jamie asked when Roy stood up.

“Outside.” Roy replied.

“Good idea. These guys suck.” Jamie motioned to the band on the stage. He got up as well, and Dallas quickly followed suit.

Being outside did nothing to help Roy feel better. If anything, he felt even worse. Not only did he feel dreadfully sick, his entire digestive track felt like it had been brushed with acid.

“I feel awful.” Roy moaned to himself as he leaned against the wall of a nearby bus stop.

Before either of his friends could reply, the trio noticed an odd figure approaching them. A short, plump woman wearing a shark costume walked up the the guys.

“It’s shark week! You guys ever seen Sharknado?” she asked.

“Haha, yeah! I love that one! It’s the highlight of Tara Reid’s career.” Jamie laughed. He was an avid fan of terrible movies, and Sharknado was definitely terrible in every sense of the word.

“He made me watch it with him. That’s 90 minutes of my life I’ll never get back.” Dallas added.

Shark lady turned towards Roy, who was still propped up on the bus stop wall. “How about you, handsome? Are you participating in shark week?”

Roy briefly turned to look at her, but then faced the wall again. The need to puke was becoming very apparent, and he was waiting for the inevitable at this point. There were plenty of people congregated outside the venue who were about to witness him losing what he’d eaten, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t the easily embarrassed type.

Apparently the quirky shark woman didn’t read body language too well, or else she had no respect for personal space, because she zoomed in and grabbed Roy into a side hug. He bristled and went rigid as he hated being touched or prodded by people he didn’t know.

“Someone take a picture of us!” shark woman pleaded. Roy felt far too nauseous to object as another concert goer snapped a picture of them. Saliva dripped from his slightly open mouth and he could feel his stomach preparing to eject its contents, but he felt too awful to move. It must have shown on his face, as Jamie addressed the weird woman.

“You should probably let go of him, just saying...”

Shark woman, still latching onto Roy like she didn’t want to let him go, ignored this. “Come on, don’t be such a sourpuss. Give me a smile!”

Roy responded by puking demonic possession style, just barely missing his friends in the process.

“Holy crap!” shark woman let go of him and jumped back.

Roy leaned against the bus stop again and braced himself with one arm as he prepared for the next heave. Repugnant sour liquid spilled from his mouth and hit the ground in front of him a second later. From the corner of his eye, he saw a hand come into view and felt his hair being pulled back. He realized that Jamie was holding his hair back, and while he wanted to thank him for doing this, he was in no position to speak. More puke gushed from Roy’s mouth, one wave after another. After what seemed like an eternity, the productivity ceased and he was left dry heaving. His long brown hair had thankfully been spared any collateral damage, but his boots, the sidewalk, and the bus stop wall were all covered in a copious amount of vomit.

“Do you feel better now?” Jamie asked.

“I don’t know. I still don’t feel that great.” Roy looked down in despair at his puke covered boots.

“It’ll be a couple hours before Fleshgod Apocalypse comes on. Maybe you could go home and rest for a bit, then come back if you’re feeling a little better.” Dallas suggested. “There’s a gas station a block away, we could go get you some Pepto Bismol or something.”

“Okay.” Having recovered a bit, Roy stood up straight.

Before heading to the station, he turned to look at the shark lady, who had been loitering nearby and watching the puking episode with a mix of horror and amusement. “To answer your question, no. I’ve never seen Sharknado.”

******************************************************

Roy only lived a few blocks from the concert venue, and he had decided to go home and take it easy for a bit. If he started to feel better, he’d go back, but if he didn’t he’d have Jamie and Dallas record the show and stream it to him.

The house was silent when he got home. It was his parent’s 25th wedding anniversary, so they were out for a romantic evening. His brother was at work and his sister was over at a friend’s house, so tonight it was just him and his cat Lars.

He took off his puke covered boots, hosed them off outside and left them by the backdoor. It wasn’t a very good cleaning job, but it was all he felt like doing for the time being.

Lars was perched on the kitchen counter waiting for him when he got back inside. Roy reached out and scratched him behind the ears, causing him to purr contently.

“Hey buddy. Looks like someone forgot to feed you. You’re probably hungry.” Roy strode over to the cabinet to get a cup of cat food and dumped it into Lars’ dish.

As he bent over, a trickle of nausea ran through him, and instead of dwindling, it steadily and quickly intensified.

“Shit.” Roy cursed. He was really, really hoping that he’d start feeling better soon, but it was starting to look like that may not happen. Fleshgod Apocalypse was one of his all time favorite bands, and he didn’t want to miss the show. Then again, he couldn’t be puking all over other patrons either, nor did he want to spend the evening camping out in the venue’s bathroom.

He sighed to himself and resigned to the sofa, bringing an empty garbage can from his dad’s office with him. This time, the nausea was building much more rapidly.

He didn’t want to sit there in misery waiting to puke, so he decided to pass the time by watching tv. He browsed the tv guide aimlessly until he came to something he liked. A re run of Major Crimes was on and he flipped the channel to watch it.

It was an episode he hadn’t seen before. The murder case was that of a husband and wife who had been strangled then had each other’s underwear crammed down their throats.

Roy liked Major Crimes. One reason why is because Raymond Cruz played one of the show’s detectives, and Roy thought he was pretty hot. He normally wasn’t one for the whole daddy kink thing, but he made an exception for Raymond Cruz.

He wasn’t enjoying the show at the moment though. The uneasy sickness in his stomach was coming back with a vengeance, and he knew he was going to throw up again fairly soon. In preparation for this, Roy tied his hair back and continued to wait. With each passing minute, his nausea amplified until he was practically begging for what was left in him to come up.

On the tv screen, Raymond Cruz’s character, detective Julio Sanchez, was interviewing a suspect while intensely hung over and on the brink of puking.

“I feel your pain bro.” Roy choked out as his mouth flooded with saliva again. He placed the garbage can in his lap and breathed heavily as drops of saliva landed in the bottom of the can.

He looked up at the tv right as detective Julio Sanchez projectile vomited all over the table, making the suspect jump and scream in disgust.

Less than thirty seconds later, Roy did the same thing. He leaned over the can in his lap and let it go. His throat burned as torrents of vile tasting orangish brown puke came up, and his whole upper body lurched with the force of each retch. He was surprised at how much he was bringing up, especially considering that he had puked copiously just an hour ago. In between heaves, he pondered where it was all coming from. A couple mouthfuls of bile came up before he was finished for good.

Roy sat back and panted as he tried to regain his composure. He spat into the can, which was filled about a quarter of the way. He set the can on the floor and rested for several minutes. He already felt a lot better, as the nausea that had been plaguing him was gone. His entire abdominal area hurt, but he didn’t feel sick anymore. In fact, he felt better now than he had in hours.

Perhaps he’d be seeing Fleshgod Apocalypse after all.

#emetophilia #puking #sickfic

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singlemominpiyamas-blog · 4 years

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5.2.20. 2:17 AM

My broken heart cracks easily like an egg. My fragile exterior bursting revealing a beautiful yellow interior, splatting on the pan of my trauma, fried and gently placed over cheesy grits. The delicious combo of trauma that’s comforting and delicious yet not the best for my health over time.

I’m gonna die of clogged arteries if I don’t chill out. I’ve been reading The Body Keeps The Score. It’s a book on how trauma literally affects every organ.

I cannot fathom doing the things other people have done to me. I have exposed so many people for being shady or bad but I still feel this void within myself. The void of the sum of the things that they did to me that have made me feel small enough to fit into their empty places.

I am a distraction.

Much of my relationships have been distractions from my own success. It’s reciprocal. Much of my relationships were distractions from trauma. Toxic. Lusty. Short. Toxic. Forced. Toxic. Sexually charged and empty interactions to fill the time between silent realizations of unhappiness and incompatibility.

For example:

My exes have similar family backgrounds: Emotionally absent fathers with extensive trauma issues who coped with said trauma with some sort of substance abuse. A loving mother who stayed with their dad no matter what happened, lacked boundaries and were the “tough tom boys” of their families. These dudes were either the youngest or only child.

The only person who does not fit this description is the first guy I ever “dated.”

I analyze every person that comes into my life to protect myself.

The more I know about the past and the reoccurring patterns that have adversely affected my life, the more likely I am to prevent them from happening again and causing further damage. That’s what healing is supposed to do. That’s stopping the cycle. That’s what years of therapy and journaling are supposed to do. Get you to analyze what you’re doing and the reasons why.

You’re studying yourself.

My failures or mediocrity have scared me into complacency. Once dysfunction becomes commonplace, it’s the norm. It becomes the daily grind. If you grow up in dysfunction, inevitably if not properly treated, you will become a toxic person.

If you didn’t have the proper support after a traumatizing event, you are more likely to develop PTSD or other mental health issues. Toxicity will become a part of your relationships. If you do not know how to deal with trauma in a healthy way, self-sabotage will become a survival mechanism you will be unable to turn off.

Drinking, drug use, gambling, copious amounts of sex, binge eating, disordered eating, eating disorders, excessive exercising, risky behaviors like speeding and etc, are not going to make you feel better and will only traumatize you more.

Misery isn’t a vibe. Dysfunction doesn’t have to be a vibe. We can heal and it hurts different. It hurts less. It doesn’t hurt worse.

When we journal, reach out, participate in the things we love, be creative, make goals, cut toxic people out of our lives and etc, we make space for growth. We pick up the clutter of our traumas, we weed out those memories and dispose of them with care, we have space for growth and good people in our lives who want healthy relationships with us and themselves.

Right now, I’m blaring good music in my ear phones, typing at nearly 2 AM about how I feel while hoping it reaches someone that needs to hear it because it makes me feel good to know I’m helping someone heal by feeling less alone.

Also, this is better than what self-destructive behavior I typically have no business engaging in at this time.

Making a positive impact on the world before I die has got to be the biggest goal I have for myself. I want to be remembered as someone who tried their best but it’s difficult because I can’t be perfect. Eventually, I’m going to mess up or something will be revealed about me that disappoints people. What can I do about that?

Nothing.

So *swerve* I can’t worry about that. What I can’t control in this life, I can’t ruminate on.

What COVID-19 has taught me has been to move with the punches. You only can depend on yourself. Money really does help get what I need to get done, done.

So, I have been applying to different places and got a job at a grocery store, the other day. I am attempting to secure employment during a pandemic because of the future economic collapse that is evolving before our eyes but I can’t freak out about that too much because I can only control what I got in front of me.

I can’t make anyone love me. I can’t make a relationship work, one sided. I can’t expect myself to be perfect. I can’t control the economic future.

I can control who I have in my life because I can positively affect my emotional well-being by cutting them out of my life. I can control how I react to adversity. Even if I feel out of control, I have every right to stop what I’m doing and do something more productive and conducive for my mental health. I don’t have to act crazy for attention. I can be myself and attract positive attention from people who like me instead of acting like a clown for one person.

Just because you can make people laugh doesn’t mean they’re cheering you on. Some of them are so bored and/or apathetic, they don’t care that the clown has feelings. They don’t share your goofy nature. They think you’re weak and they prey on that perceived weakness. They see joy as naivety. They only want to be entertained and oh what fun it is to watch a train wreck of clowns. *cough cough*

I can definitely say that I am a train wreck of clowns and I don’t want to be anymore but it’s a comfort zone for me. The dark humor doesn’t help.

Love and attention are not the same things.

If they care, they’ll be there for you. You shouldn’t have to show off for attention. You shouldn’t have to crash their crib or throw stuff at them for them to care about you.

Plus, people experience their emotions in different ways. Some people shut down. Other people feel nothing. Some people stop caring about everything but then you can’t control how people react to life.

Some people throw things. Yell. Get loud.

But if you stop to think about why someone does something, it makes sense. I get loud when I argue with my partner because I feel unheard. I feel like what I have to say doesn’t matter to them and when I get angry I yell so they can hear what I have to say. Obviously, that’s not how one gets their point across. That’s the maturity talking.

I have control of the volume of my voice and if I feel repeatedly insulted and unheard, I need to walk away depending on the type of relationship. Either, I have to walk away or make things work but if making things work didn’t work, I’m going to have to walk away. It’s simple, really.

If you’re unheard, you’re being disrespected so WALK AWAY!

If you know that someone will be unable to love you the way you deserve to be loved, walk away because that‘s the most selfish type of love. You know you can’t fix them. You know you can’t make them love you. How will they ever make you happy if they’re going to be miserable with you?

Have you seen Bruce Almighty? Not even God can make someone love you. The Universe cannot create love. You are love.You have to find and create that for yourself.

You have to love yourself and achieve your goals or you’ll never find happiness. You have to pursue your own joy in this life in order to feel fulfilled or you’ll never have fulfilling relationships.

How do you expect a relationship to manufacture something you’ve never felt on your own?

Whatever energy you put out into the Universe will come back to you. You are a part of Karma. Whatever good you put out there, will come back to you. Whatever bad, will go into the world and come back to you. That balance is what redeems the imperfection it is to be human.

Life doesn’t have to be suffering but you need to focus on the rainbows. You have to cling onto the joyous moments that make you who you are today or you will be consumed by tragedy. You will become unrecognizable.

Your identity will become trauma if you do not remember the good things that made you who you are today. Yes, the bad made you who you are too but so did the good.

You’ll get sucked back into toxic relationships and repeat past traumas until you become aware of those patterns and offsetting them with who you actually are and what actually brings you joy.

Do you like to paint? What hobbies did you have as a kid? Did you like being inside or outside more? Have you ever been interested in cooking? Do you like fashion? Have you ever wanted to play video games, soccer, DnD, go on a hike, try a new type of food and etc? Do it.

Have you drank coffee by yourself in a restaurant? Gone to a movie by yourself? Whatever is the thing you want to do or try, do it because it will help you see your goals. It will help you feel fulfilled.

If you were never loved by your parents or not properly loved or felt neglected in some way somehow by the important people in your life, of course you’re going to be conditioned to love in a dysfunctional way.

But why be miserable?

Why be miserable because of that?

Find yourself before you commit to someone who may potentially not value or love you the way you need to be valued and loved. You should not have to beg for love, act like a clown or hide yourself in some way to appease someone.

Love you.

#self love #self care #trauma #ptsd #bpd #bpd things #domesticviolence #walkaway

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thismoviefucks · 5 years

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THESE MOVIES FUCK - JANUARY 2020

I watched ten movies this month. Let me tell you what I thought.

Once Upon a Time in the West (1968, dir. Sergio Leone) is a movie that tells you who it is right up front. The opening 15 minutes of this legendary spaghetti Western are paralleled in their perfection only by the other 150, establishing the tone for the whole movie; an excruciatingly slow, tense and beautiful crawl through the arid, picturesque blank slate of the desert. There is very little action in this movie, and not much in the way of dialogue. There doesn't need to be. Sergio Leone's direction, Ennio Morricone's music, and the subtle performances of a young Charles Bronson and a playing-shockingly-against-type Henry Fonda, among others, all congeal into a movie you could probably watch and love even if the dialogue wasn't there at all.

A Fistful of Dollars (1964, dir. Sergio Leone) is one of those movies that's more influential than it is good. It's undeniable how massive of an impact this movie left on film, from practically inventing a lot of what became the Spaghetti Western to launching the career of a young Clint Eastwood, but in my eyes this is a pretty weak movie. A low-budget remake of the classic Kurosawa jidaigeki picture Yojimbo, there's definitely a lot of charm here -- you can already see Sergio Leone's style in its infancy, and Clint Eastwood is as fantastic as ever in his portrayal of the Man with No Name here -- embodying that classic mysterious drifter archetype seemingly effortlessly -- but to my eyes there's just a lot missing here that makes it a sort of drab experience, unfortunately. Still worth a watch, and still very much recommended if you're interested in the history of low-budget film or the history of the Western in general.

Rambo: Last Blood (2019, dir. Adrian Grunberg) is a movie that left me massively conflicted; on the one hand, I want desperately to love the unapologetic throwback to '70s exploitation cinema (in particular, vigilante movies, low-budget spaghetti Westerns, and good old-fashioned splatter) that this movie clings to -- but on the other hand, it fully embodies all the worst elements of those movies and combines them with a pathetic excuse for a plotline, underdeveloped characters, and shoddy effects work. When I think Rambo, I think "Sylvester Stallone in the jungle, mowing down hordes of nameless mooks; this movie, conversely, feels more like a Chuck Bronson Death Wish movie than any of the previous Rambos, and carries all the baggage of that wave of '70s vigilante movies, the good and the bad. The way this movie portrays Mexicans makes me think it was written by a Fox News boomer, and given that Sly is in his 70s it totally might be; to be slightly fair to him this movie was apparently written before the excellent fourth Rambo movie, and its already-tired-in-2010 plotline has aged like milk since then. Not to mention the women characters in this, which are little more than props and only serve to give John Rambo a reason to kill everything in his line of sight, and have no personality beyond "morality pet for 70-year-old veteran guy". So I'm not sure how I felt about this movie on first watch. It is a love letter to all the great low-budget cinema that made loose cannon cowboys and renegade cops cool again, but doesn't seem to have learned at all from the 40 years since then.

For a Few Dollars More (1965, dir. Sergio Leone) is, for my money, the definitive spaghetti Western. Lee van Cleef and Clint Eastwood turn in classic performances as the quintessential badass bounty hunters kicking ass on the Mexican border. I love, love, love bounty hunter stories, and this is one of the great bounty hunter stories of all time -- though, don't try to follow the plot too closely, as it is definitely a bit of a mess, though it's at least a fun one. The first hour or so of this movie is basically all setup, whether that's setting up Clint Eastwood's character, setting up Lee van Cleef's character, them meeting in the bar, them trying to one-up each other, etc. But, once the plotline does kick in, it's a great time, with the villain El Indio being played by the great Gian Maria Volonte (who was also in A Fistful of Dollars), a giggling madman who leads a gang of bank robbers and has a brutal quickdraw hand. The scene in the church, where El Indio murders a man's wife and baby offscreen for selling him out and then forces him into a quickdraw duel, is one of the truly great scenes in Western history; this, also, is where you can see the classic elements of Sergio Leone's style begin to play out -- the extreme close-ups, the drawn-out tension, and of course the bombastic score by Ennio Morricone. And that, finally, is another thing that needs to be noted: this has perhaps one of Morricone's greatest scores; the main title theme is a classic piece of spaghetti Western music, up there with his similarly-incredible scores for Leone's next two pictures. To put it simply: if you like cowboys, if you like Clint Eastwood, or if you just plain like badass motherfuckers doing badass shit, this movie is a must fucking watch. Highly recommended.

Reviewing Parasite (2019, dir. Bong Joon-Ho) without spoiling it is pretty much like holding a hand grenade in your bare hands, so I am going to keep this as short as possible: This movie is at once hilarious and tragic. This movie is a sometimes-brutal satire of capitalism that pulls very few punches. This movie has convinced me that I need to watch Bong Joon-Ho's other stuff as soon as I can, and finally the important part: This movie deserves all of the hype it's been receiving. Highly, highly recommended.

I recently rewatched Kill Bill (2003-04, dir. Quentin Tarantino), and while it definitely isn't one of my favorite Tarantino joints, it's aged pretty well over the last 15, almost 20 years. A doting pastiche of all the '70s exploitation classics Quentin has made a living off his love for, everyone knows what Kill Bill is: A wedding rehearsal in Texas gets shot up -- massacred, in fact. 4 years later, the Bride rises from her coma and decides to get revenge by killing every one of the people that did it: members of an elite assassination team, led by her ex-lover Bill. There's a lot to love here: arterial sprays, limbs flying, white-bearded asshole kung-fu masters, entire scenes in Mandarin, the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique, and all the rest. There's also copious amounts of gratuitous shots of Uma Thurman's feet (because, you know, Quentin Tarantino is a bit of a creep), and some absurdly campy dialogue writing (Uma Thurman calling everyone "Bitch" is the big one, it sounds so unnatural) that I can't quite tell whether it's intentionally or unintentionally cheesy. But overall I think this movie is still worth watching in 2020. It's at least as good a use of four hours as Kenneth Branagh's Hamlet is, and unlike Hamlet this has a decapitation in it.

Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood (2019, dir. Quentin Tarantino) may not be my favorite Quentin Tarantino film, but it's almost certainly his best one. It's unlike pretty much anything he ever did, a slow-burn character-driven drama that barely has a central plot at all. Some people say this movie is "about" Charles Manson, but that couldn't be further from the truth; largely, this movie consists of a slice-of-life examination of the late career of an "aging" (read: in his thirties) actor and his best friend and stunt double, played by Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt respectively. Manson and his acolytes only figure into maybe 25 minutes of the movie, 15 or so of those being the climax of the movie where the only real "action" in the movie takes place. I think the slow, low-key nature of this movie plays to Quentin's strong suits far more than just about any of his other movies do: he is at his best when he's writing conversations between the characters he puts so much love into creating, and as far as that goes I'd say this movie puts him in the same league as Mamet. So, if you have 3 hours spare, I'd say this is worth your time and attention for those 3 hours. Check it out.

The Lighthouse (2019, dir. Robert Eggers) is one of those movies that I really am going to need to watch again, but just on first watch: This is abjectly horrifying, and one of only a few movies to genuinely make me uncomfortable and uneasy watching it. To call this movie "scary" would be sort of a misnomer: I'm not "scared" watching these two men going insane, but I am filled with a deep and utter sense of dread as the whole thing proceeds. The atmosphere reminds me most of Vargtimmen, Ingmar Bergman's classic psychological horror masterpiece, with some definite Eraserhead elements thrown in the mix too, along with the period-accurate linguistics and creeping unease of Eggers' last movie, The Witch, which was his debut. We live in a damn great time for horror cinema if people like Robert Eggers and Ari Aster can put out their first two features and have all four of the movies be the magnum-opus level masterclasses in misery and terror that they are. There's clearly some stuff hidden deeper in this film's cracks and crevices that I couldn't glean from my first watch, but even without the stuff I inevitably missed, I highly recommend this movie.

The Irishman (2019, dir. Martin Scorsese) is Scorsese's masterpiece (I think I *like* Goodfellas more, but this is clearly the better movie), and possibly the greatest gangster movie, full stop. At turns an epic, a subtle, quiet drama, and a crushingly dark portrayal of the Mafia, I have never felt more tense watching a movie that isn't trying to scare me in my entire life. There is no romanticisation or pulled punches here. The violence in this movie is few and far between, and it is always, always shocking. Gunshots in this made me tense up and jump, a reaction that I cannot say I've had to guns in any other movie. And the last hour of this movie -- chronicling the demise of Jimmy Hoffa and its repercussions -- is the best thing Scorsese has ever put to film. An unbelievably beautiful work of film. Highly, highly recommended.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly (1966, dir. Sergio Leone) is not the perfect masterpiece I expected it to be, but is certainly a damn great film nonetheless. There are some who would call this the greatest Western ever made, and I certainly can see some reasons why that would be the case: fantastic performances from Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef and Eli Wallach, an iconic and classic soundtrack by Ennio Morricone, and one of the greatest final 20-30 minutes of a movie of all time. The hype kinda overblew it for me, though, because even with all the great stuff going for it, this movie has some slightly damning flaws that bring it down a little bit for me, namely the second act being as sluggish as it is; this movie is 3 hours long, and it starts to drag a little bit during the second act. Additionally, I thought it was a strange choice to not develop any of the characters other than Tuco beyond a few key aspects: Clint is calculating, stoic and the fastest gun in the West, and Lee is a sadistic, greedy monster. Tuco (Wallach), at least, gets some more character development, in the scenes where Eastwood and Wallach are at the church nursing Eastwood back to health. I'll definitely need to see this one again sometime soon, but in my eyes I'd rather watch either Once Upon a Time in the West or For a Few Dollars More than this one. Still though, undeniably massively influential and still definitely worth watching. Check it out.

There’s my opinions. See you next month with ten more.

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