#of course as soon as the funeral is over and i can start kind of putting all that behind me. life throws another curveball.

[scattered-winter]

literally genuinely for real my university should pay me money because i think i deserve it due to the fact that i am still going to class under these circumstances

[moody-alcoholic]

Death in the family

I wrote the outline for a Simon x reader fic but it devolved into another Ghoap fic so I shelved it...

Why make them so shippable if they are not to be shipped?

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 4.2k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: talks of loss, grieving, funeral, nightmares, PTSD, assault, hurt/comfort.

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

You’re tied to a chair again, you can’t move blood drips down your face. You’re stripped to your underwear, sweat dripping down the back of your neck making you shiver. The room is cold goosebumps rise on your body as you rub your legs together for any kind of warmth. The sound of a door opening forces you to look up, you see Jack walk in. You let your head fall again, no point in looking at him, it does not matter what you say he’ll never believe you. His laugh fills your ears you try to ignore him. 

“Your boyfriends were killed today.” He says, it’s like a stab to the heart, you don’t want to believe him. He clearly is not happy with your silent response rushing over to you and pulling your hair so you’re forced to look at him. He’s smiling at you. 

“They tried to come and rescue you, and look what you did. You got them killed.” He spits in your face, letting your head fall again. Tears rush out you can’t stop them but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“I’ll never understand why you let love take over, they would still be alive if they just let  you die.” You hear him walk over to you. You see his feet standing in front of you. He pulls your hair up again so he can look in your eyes. 

“You’re no use to me now.” You feel the indescribable pain as a knife is thrust into your chest. 

You wake screaming, hands grab your body. You try to fight as lights flick on in the room. You feel your arms pressed into your chest as arms wrap round you. You hear Simon’s voice then Johnny. You feel hands stroking your back, stroking your hair as Johnny rocks you in his arms. It was just a dream, just a stupid dream. 

“Sorry,” you say catching your breath.

“It’s okay love, you’re okay.” Johnny says not letting you go. You hear Simon get out the bed. You feel bad for waking them up now it just makes you sad.

“You were dead. In my dream.” You sniff into Johnny’s chest.

“Yeah? Well I’m still here ain’t I?” Johnny says as he loosens his grip on you. You hear the toilet flush as Simon comes back in the room. You put off sleeping for as long as you could, you didn’t want to slip back into the nightmares you’d been having, especially once you were home. You were kind of hoping and praying that the bad dreams would stay in Syria, but when you nodded off on the flight home you could already see the flashes of memories coming back to haunt you. It’s just temporary, you’ll be fine in a few weeks. You try to convince yourself it’s not PTSD. This is just a normal reaction to what happened to you it’s like a knee-jerk trauma response, you had a bad time with Jack and now your best friend is dead. You let out a sigh watching Simon move back into the bed as Johnny lets you go. You lean back on the pillows wiping your eyes, Simon reaches over pulling you down on his chest. You hear his heartbeat as Johnny turns the light off snuggling up behind you. 

“You need to talk to someone.” Simon says quietly, kissing your head. 

“After the funeral, I promise.” You say, you know it’s a lie, you won’t see a shrink until you’re ordered to see one. No point in risking a medical discharge over a few stupid nightmares. You close your eyes taking a deep breath in. You just have to get through tomorrow, as soon as that is over things can start to get back to normal. Besides what's the worst that can happen, it’s a funeral after all.     

——————————  

It’s raining of course it is, typical British weather, typical funeral weather. This feels wrong, you’re going back to Chloe’s house but there is no Chloe. The invites had been sent via e-mail, no use in wasting the good invites on her. The ‘burial’ was held privately, Chloe’s mum would not want to be embarrassed at the fact it was not a military funeral. I’m sure she was shocked at her daughters request to be cremated instead of buried, not that she would have been given the privilege to be buried in the family plot. That was for soldiers. There were no butlers on the door this time, you let go of Johnny’s arm to reach up and ring the doorbell. A few seconds later someone opens the door, you look through to see Chloe’s mum and dad stood in the foyer. You walk in wiping your feet on the mat before going over to them.

“Oh sergeant we’re so glad you could make it.” Chloe’s mum comes over giving you a hug. There are tears drying on her cheeks as she holds a handkerchief in her hand. 

“She had so few friends we’re glad there is someone she would know.” You hold your tongue, the reason so few of them are here is because Chloe would rather tell people she had no family then introduce people to her real one. You break away from the hug and force a small smile.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” You say. It’s the standard response, you don’t have anything to say to her family, you’re here for Chloe. Her mother turns her attention to Johnny. 

“Oh I remember you, SAS, MacTavish?” She says dabbing her dry cheeks. Johnny nods. Of course she remembers Johnny but couldn’t tell you which hospital her daughter worked at. 

“There are drinks in the drawing room, help yourself.” She points over to the open door in the foyer. You walk with Johnny hearing classical music spilling out the room. As you enter a butler offers you a drink you take one off the tray thanking him. You look around the room, some people you recognise some you don’t it’s mostly family, you can pick out her brothers from a mile away, they have the same blonde hair. They’re the only ones in the room who look like they don’t want to be here, almost like their sisters death is an inconvenience. You finish your drink going over to the open guest book on the table putting the empty glass down.

“We can leave if you want?” Johnny whispers as you pick up a pen. You shake your head, you have to be here. You look at the page not knowing what to write, it’s already filled with messages of condolences, all the same generic few phrases. Notes of sympathy from people who didn’t even know her personally, who are just here to support her family. You want to write something that matters but you don’t know what to say. Your hand hovers over the page as you think about her. Her smile, the way she was always so bubbly, how she got you through nursing exams, you would stay up late together studying. How she was so headstrong, so sure in what she was doing, stubborn as all hell. You remember the look on her face when you said you were joining the army, how she shouted at you and didn’t talk to you for a week. 

‘Yeah well I hope you die on the front lines!’ She snapped.

‘Clo, don’t be like this, the pay and the benefits that’s all it is. I don’t want to be stuck in a hospital all my life.’ You said from the other side of the door. 

‘Why’d you become a nurse then?’ She says quieter, you hear her sniffles.

‘I want to help people.’ You reply. 

That was the night she came clean about her family, told you all about her ‘other life’ as she called it sometimes. She stayed over at your flat for the whole week, until you had to leave for basic. You feel Johnny’s hand on yours, you look down you haven’t written anything but you feel horrible. You put the pen back, maybe you can’t put it into words yet. Johnny takes your hand and leads you away from the table. You squeeze it looking up at him.

“What’s your favourite memory?” He asks. 

“When we used to work night shifts together, she would always find a way to make them fun.” You say leaning up against him. He wraps his arm round your waist as you see Chloe’s mother come into the room. She’s still dabbing her face as she makes her way to the centre of the room accepting a drink off the tray when it is bought to her. People gather around her as she nods, thanking them for coming, she then takes a sip of her drink and clears her throat as Chloe’s dad comes to stand next to her. She starts giving a speech but you’re only partially listening, she talks about how well Chloe did in med school, finishing almost top of her class and landing a job at the Royal. You can hear her trying her hardest to seem impressed with it, she looks round the room and her eyes meet yours. 

“She always had such a zest for life, in the people she knew and the way she chose to live. Some would say a troubled child, she especially since showed no interest in the military.” There it was the sly comments as the room chuckles. You sigh taking another drink off the tray as the butler walks by. You look round the room, You don’t want to be here anymore. You wonder if you could find her old room? Maybe she would have some memories tucked up in there, would definitely be better then this shit. 

“C’mon.” You say gently pulling Johnny and slipping out the room. You put your drink down on a table and head for the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Johnny asks as you lead him.

“I want to find her room, I just need, closure.” You say, he nods. You can’t remember where her room was exactly, you start peaking through doors down the long corridor.

“Do you know where it is?” Johnny asks following you. 

“I think so it’s been years since I’ve been up here.” You look through another door into a lush office, you’re about to close the door when something catches your eye. You go in the room without even thinking heading over to the desk with papers strewn all over it. 

“Chloe had interesting taste.” Johnny says looking round the room. You ignore him picking up a folder and opening it. 

“Johnny come look at this.” You say as you flick through it, it’s pages of information, with pictures of Johnny, Price, Gaz even some of you. It was a photo of Johnny that caught your eye. 

“What the fuck.” He says taking the folder out your hands. You look back over at the desk there are more papers, some in Arabic, pictures of weapons and artillery, medical supplies and closed crates of God knows what. You pick up one of the photos. 

“This is from the base I was at in Syria, this is the store room.” You say as you turn the photo over there is a date and a time written on it. 

“This was 3 days ago.” You say showing Johnny, he comes over and starts thumbing through the papers.

“Watch the door.” He says taking the photo out your hand. You nod and move to the door cracking it open slightly so you can see down the hall. Johnny takes his phone out and starts snapping photos. You look back every now and then as Johnny is moving with careful efficiency, making sure to move everything back to the place it was. You look back down the hallway, you can hear voices on the stairs.

“Johnny!” You call trying not to shout. He nods putting his phone away as you slip out the door just before you hear the voices turn the corner. Johnny pulls you into a room closing the door behind him. 

“Do you think they saw us?” You whisper. He puts his hand up to shush you as he listens.

“I don’t think so.” He says moving away from the door. You look round the room, this is Chloe’s room. You go over to sit on her bed, it looks like most of the furniture has been moved out and the room has been stripped of all its personality. You run your fingers over the bedding. It’s just a guest room now, you suspect it has been for a few years. 

“You okay?” Johnny asks stepping over to you. You sniff the tears away, all you can do is nod. You look up at him his fingers stroke your cheek. 

“Mind if I have a few minutes?” You ask, he nods. 

“I’ll meet you back downstairs?” He asks, you nod in reply. He reaches down and plants a kiss on your forehead then walks out the room closing the door behind him. You get up going to the dresser and pulling on the small lopsided drawer, you smile at yourself when you can’t open it. Most people would think it was jammed, her parent’s and sisters defiantly did. You reach into your pocket taking a card out your purse. You shimmy it between the drawer in the spot you remember Chloe showing you years ago. The drawer clicks open and you can pull it out just a few centimeters you reach in and pull out a letter, a half pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You smile, you close the drawer as it clicks back into it’s broken state. You put the items in your pocket and go to leave the room. Now you just want to go home. 

You’re walking down the hallway as you hear a door open, before you can do anything you’re shoved up against a wall. 

“What the fuck!” You shout sick of people pushing you up against things. Your chest is pressed up against the wall your arm twisted behind your back, your broken rib sending shooting pains up your body you have to squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t see who it is behind you but they’re strong. 

“What the hell are you doing up here?” He spits. “Have you been snooping in places you shouldn’t?” It’s Mark one of Chloe’s brothers.

“Let me go, for fucks sake!” You reply fear rising in your chest, you don’t like this, you don’t like being held down. You’re not even paying attention to what he’s saying, your breathing gets quicker you’re starting to panic. Your eyes dart around looking for a way out or Johnny, anything to get out of this situation, you’re not even listening to him talk. You’re starting to loose track of reality his hands pinning your shoulders down you’re back in that room being tied to the chair Jack up in your face-. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing!” The arms leave your body you see Johnny, you let out a breath, blinking to make sure he’s real. You start walking over to him as you pat yourself down. 

“I was saying good-bye to Chloe, not that you really care Mark.” You manage to say as you reach Johnny. He wraps his arms around your waist and you pull him to the stairs, you don’t stop walking you just want to get out of here. Mark doesn't follow you, he doesn’t say anything. You see Chloe’s mother on the way out, luckily you can play the tears off as grieving, not the fact that now every step is like a knife driving into your rib-cage. Thank God you never have to come back to this place. 

——————————   

When you make it to the flat you ignore Simon and Johnny making your way straight out to the balcony. You feel like shit physically and mentally, there is a cool breeze now as the rain has stopped and the sun is peaking through the clouds for the last few hours of daylight. You reach into your pocket pulling out the packet of cigarettes and the lighter. It’s old almost empty with stickers all over it. You’re not even sure it’s going to work but when you try it the flame springs to life. You take a cigarette out lighting it between your fingers. You don’t smoke, so this is the best Chloe is going to get from you. You open the letter next, you look at the date on the top. 14th of June, the day of the party, you can’t help but scoff. 

‘To whoever finds this but most likely Ashe. 

Remember that night we had the 3 car RTC come in to A&E? It was one of our first shifts as qualified nurses. We had no idea what we were doing and were just going with the flow which meant a lot of stitches and hand holding. I remember everyone who died that night and they all died without getting to say goodbye. I remember when you told me about how it’s common for people in the army to write letters for their loved ones if they die.

I was never worried about you dying, you’re too much of a pussy for that. Okay that was rude I’m drunk. I thought when you joined the army you would become a massive bitch, like everyone else in my life who sold their soul for queen and country.

Anyway, I wanted to write a letter for you in-case I get the bright idea of joining the army and forget about it. Or I don’t know my crazy family finally get the bright idea that their life would be easier without the black sheep (that’s me by the way not David… cos David’s black…oh you’ll understand.)

OOOO don’t let my family bury me in that depressing family plot it’s stupid I don’t want it, make them throw my ashes in a forest or something. Isn’t that what people do right they want their ashes spread in the sea or in a forest? The sea is scary full of sharks and shit. 

I’m very drunk. My mum is driving me crazy I counted how long before she made one of her comments. 3 MINUTES, SHE COULDN’T EVEN WAIT. ‘Hello sweety, I can’t wait for the day I see you in dress uniform.’ WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!!!!

The next party I’m coming in scrubs!!

I hope you miss me when I’m gone, what would you do without all this juicy drama? 

And you’re not allowed to die okay, if you’re reading this and I’ve kicked the bucket you’re not allowed to die leave the army and spend all your time fucking Johnny. He is fit if you don’t want him I’ll take him. 

I can’t even remember what I was going to say now. Just don’t die!!. 

Chloe 

PS: I had the biggest crush on you in uni.'

“Hey, you want some space?” You look up at the door through tear filled eyes, you can’t tell if it’s because of the letter or the cigarette smoke. Simon’s standing there. You shake your head looking back down at the letter. He walks over to sit next to you picking the packet of cigarettes up. 

“Smoking?” He says taking one out putting it between his lips. 

“They were Chloe’s, the same packet she hid from her parent’s when she still lived with them. She was convinced they were lucky or something, since she never got caught with them.” You explain folding the letter up watching the ash fall off the end of the cigarette. You let the butt fall out your hand onto the floor. You hear Simon light the cigarette as he coughs. 

“Fucking hell.” He says looking at you, you can’t help but smile as he looks at the cigarette in disgust. 

“They are over 10 years old.” You say. He shakes his head. You turn the letter over in your hands. 

“What did it say?” He asks, you shrug. 

“She told me not to die.” You wipe the tears away as Simon’s arm comes round your shoulder pulling you up against him. You rest your arm across his stomach as he takes another puff of the cigarette. You just sit there in silence until he’s finished, flicking the end on the floor. 

“She seemed like a good person.” Simon says after a while. You nod, she was. 

“Why did you ask if she had key’s to my place?” You ask eventually. 

“She was killed a street away from your place, I remember when I dropped her off after the party she lived on the other side of the river.” He says. You sigh, why does that matter? She could have been killed in your flat, where it happened isn’t important. You shiver feeling the cold. 

“Come on, lets go in, Johnny insisted on cooking.” You move as Simon goes to stand up he holds out his hand for you and you take it picking up the packet of cigarettes on the way. When you get inside it already smells good. Johnny is in the kitchen chopping something with his back to you but turns when hears the door close, he smiles then turns back to his chopping. 

“What you cooking?” You ask.

“Shepherds pie!” Johnny calls back. 

“Need a hand?” You ask heading to the kitchen.

“Sure, you can fry the meat.” Johnny says looking at you smiling. 

“In a second.” Simon says grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the kitchen. He takes you to the bedroom turning the light on and going to the dresser kneeling down and pulling the bottom drawer out completely. You can’t see inside very well, you move to look but he’s already up on his feet. Simon hands you a pistol, you look up at him confused. It’s heavy in your hands, you pull the barrel back checking if it’s loaded, it’s not. He passes you a mag you take it in your other hand. 

“Know how to use it?” He asks, watching you load the mag. 

“I haven’t shot a weapon since basic.” You say chuckling nervously, and even then it was in a controlled environment. 

“Quick refresher then, basics, never…” Simon looks at you to continue.

“Put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.”

“Always..”

“Be sure of your target and look beyond it.”

“Never..” 

“Leave a weapon unattended.”

“Always..” 

“Unload the weapon when not in use.” You say as you unload it. It feels wrong holding it in your hand. Where did they even get it from? This is very illegal. ‘With what happened, you’re under our protection.’ You remember what Price said, what did you need protecting from? Something felt wrong you think back to the office today, to all the paperwork and files on you, 141, the base. You hand it back to Simon.

“We’ll take you to the range tomorrow get you some practice in.” He says bending down to put it back and sliping the drawer back in. He stands up brushing a strand of hair out your face as you just gawk at him. 

“Should I be worried?” You ask. He shakes his head. 

“It’ll make us feel better, knowing you have something if we’re not here.” He’s being cryptic, and he didn’t answer your question. You shake it off, you’ve been through too much today, you just want to relax. 

“Got any other surprises under there?” You ask as his hands find your waist and he leads you out the room chuckling. 

“We keep the C4 in the bathroom, Johnny makes such a mess when he’s playing around with it.” Simon says as you walk back to the kitchen. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. He has to be joking right? You go stand next to Johnny watching him scrape chopped onions and carrots in a pan. You kiss him on the cheek, he didn’t have to come to the funeral today, but honestly you’re glad he did. 

“Feeling better?” He asks.

“Feeling hungry.” You reply as the smell of the onions frying hits your nose. 

“Good because I’m making a big portion. How ‘bout you get started on those spuds.” He smiles you nod. Simon opens the fridge taking out a beer. 

“Yes please!” Johnny calls as soon as Simon cracks it open, he sighs handing the beer to Johnny and going back in the fridge. You smile picking up a potato. Maybe you were just overthinking everything. You remind yourself you just had to get through today, the worse was over now you can try and heal, if that’s even possible.

Next Part

I really didn't know how to end this one I was hungry when I finished writing it and honestly I could have kept going for ages...

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

wednesday's sister's wedding to xavier? Bet it would be so goth and cute. Enid can be the wedding planner? She would LOVE that

Request: anything with Xavier please. I hate that he won't be in the next season

This has been sitting in my drafts for months. I was trying to achieve perfection and put my whole vision into words. I hope you'll enjoy it <3

Warnings: family drama, father/son issues

—

‘’I always knew you were going to be the first of our children to marry. Pugsley is more interested in pyromancy than girls, and your dear sister... I tried talking to her about the possibilities of, someday, settling with Enid, but she could have stabbed me with the knives in her eyes.’’

You laughed softly. Classic Wednesday. 

Morticia fixed your veil, looking at you with a proud smile. ‘’You look just like me at your father and I’s wedding.’’ She paused, reminiscing. ‘’We married young too. I knew since the first time we met that he was the one.’’ 

Your dress was hauntingly beautiful — black, of course, with a long train. The kind you would like to be buried in at your funeral. You couldn’t wait to see Xavier’s reaction when he’ll see you. 

You glanced down at the ring on your hand, and sighed. ‘’How long until the ceremony, Mother?’’ you asked, the time seeming to have gotten slower since you woke. You couldn’t wait to get this wedding over with and be married. To — finally — call Xavier your husband. 

The wedding preparations had started very early this morning. Enid had been awake since the crack of dawn, making phone calls, directing people and making sure everything was going accordingly. She was the perfect wedding planner. She used to be part of the Rave’N organizing committee at Nevermore, so you knew your wedding was in good hands. 

‘’Missing the boy already? Ah, young love…’’ Morticia said, catching the longing in your gaze. ‘’Your father and I too had difficulty being apart for the first…decade.’’ 

If only she knew where you had been a couple of hours ago.

Dressed in your black robe and bare faced, you wandered through the secret passages of the Addams manor to meet with your soon-to-be husband. According to most traditions, it was bad luck to see each other before the ceremony on your wedding day, but you and Xavier didn’t care. You knew you'd be together until the grave — and even longer still. 

Since the rise of the dawn, Xavier had been cooped up on the other side of the manor with your father, Pugsley and Mr. Thorpe, who surprisingly made time in his busy schedule to attend. You and Xavier had been both surprised when his RSVP envelope came in, confirming his presence. The man had a tendency of upsetting Xavier, so you asked Thing to look out for him and come to you if anything happened. 

‘’I don’t know how long we have until someone realizes we are missing,’’ you said, looking at Xavier in the glow of your candle light. Even in sweatpants and a tee shirt, he managed to look handsome. 

He leaned down for a kiss, careful not to burn his hair with the candle.  

‘’How are things with your father?’’ 

Xavier pursed his lips, his face crisped. ‘’I'm afraid nothing has changed with my father. He seems more disappointed than ever before because I chose to propose to you without his approval. I think he is more preoccupied by how the media will take the news and how it will affect his image. Because not even his son’s happiness come before his career…’’ 

You took Xavier’s hand, knowing his father’s words had upset him, pulling him out of his head. ‘’If, at any time, you want him to leave, say and I will have him removed. I know he’s your father, but it’s our wedding day. We should spend it with the people we love, not the ones who upset us.’’ 

He forced a smile, not wanting to deal with the public drama of kicking his father out. Although there won’t be press at the wedding, all of the Addams clan was present and he’d rather not embarrass himself in front of his new relatives. ‘’It’ll be fine.’’ 

The ceremony was hauntingly beautiful. Your father shed a tear, and Thing didn’t drop any of the rings on his way to the altar. 

You couldn’t stop staring at Xavier, looking torturously handsome in his dark suit and his hair pulled back — your favorite on him. It made his green eyes stand out.  

Uncle Itt, who was officiating the marriage, motioned for Xavier to speak his vows. 

Xavier pulled a neatly written paper from his pocket, and began reading. He practiced his speech for hours last night — and this morning —, but he was so nervous he was afraid to miss a word. ‘’From the day that I met you, I knew I would follow you to the grave," he began, his eyes flicking up to yours. ‘’We were only seven years old, but I knew our souls were destined to be together. Ten years later, you showed up at Nevermore and my heart fell right into your webs. You became my sanctuary in times of darkness. You saw me at my lowest point yet still gave me your love and your unwavering loyalty. And on this day, with every whispered vow, I surrender my heart to you, my deadly nightshade.’’

The guests were enraptured by his words, his love for you evident in every syllable he uttered. Xavier poured his heart and soul into the words, your eyes gleaming with adoration as you listened. 

Life had not always been kind to him these last years, but your hand remained in his through everything. When he was accused of being the hyde, accused of murdering all these people, you were the only one who believed him when he said he was not the monster. The weight of everything made you doubt if you were doing the right thing by staying with Xavier. Always follow your heart, it’ll put you on the right path, your mother had told you through your crystal ball when you had called her in tears. 

But like at any weddings, something was bound to cause a hint of drama, and, as expected, that thing was Xavier’s father.

Mr. Thorpe had discovered that Xavier had used his mother's ring to propose to you, an Addams. His late wife’s ring, now on the finger of an Addams, was too much for him to bear. He kept his disapproval in check throughout the ceremony, but waited until the end to confront his son, taking him away from the wedding guests to talk of the matter.

You weren’t supposed to hear them, but you happened to be on a walk around the cemetery with your father, saying hello to your ancestors, when you heard a hushed argument by the border of the woods. You exchanged a concerned glance with your father. The Addams were known to start little fights at family events, but you had a gut feeling that you needed to follow the voices. 

‘’—Mom passed it to me. It's for me to decide what I do with it and who I give it to.’’

You recognized Xavier’s voice as you got closer, making you regret dismissing Thing from his spying duty for the rest of the night. 

‘’I bought this ring with my money, Xavier. I don't want an Addams wearing it. It’s a disgrace.’’ 

‘’I’m an Addams too now.’’ 

Hurrying through the cemetery, you reached the border of the woods and stepped in, your father coming right behind you. ‘’Is there a problem here?��’ you asked, your voice steady and clear as your eyes fell on your husband and his father. 

Xavier released a silent breath of relief when he saw you. You were never afraid to speak your mind and stand your ground to his father, always advocating for him when he needed you. 

Mr. Thorpe turned, his face a mix of surprise and indignation. ‘’Leave us. This is a private matter,’’ he snapped, unhappy to have a small crowd around him. 

‘’It’s not a private matter when it involves my wife, father,’’ Xavier said.

You felt spiders in your stomach when he called you that. His wife. 

Gomez stepped forward, his presence imposing. ‘’I heard the way you spoke of my daughter, Mr. Thorpe, and I will not tolerate that. Whether you like it or not, she is your daughter-in-law. She is part of your family…as you and Xavier are of mine.’’

Mr. Thorpe’s eyes narrowed as your father spoke. He didn’t like being called out on his behavior, especially by Gomez Addams, a man he viewed as beneath him. ‘’Your daughter was given a ring that does not belong to her. I simply wish to have it back.’’ 

Instinctively, you hid your hand behind your back. ‘’You speak as if I stole it. Xavier’s mother gave it to him as she was fading. You may have paid for it, but the ring does not belong to you anymore.’’ 

‘’Give it back to me!’’ Mr. Thorpe came at you, but your father intercepted him before he could put a hand on you. 

‘’Not a step closer!’’ 

Xavier rushed over to you, taking your hand — the one with the ring — and holding it close to him. He won’t let his father take it from you. 

Mr. Thorpe opened his mouth to speak but Gomez cut him off, his eyes fixed on him. ‘’I have tried to reason, but I fear you have gone too far now. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, Mr. Thorpe. You are disrupting this wedding and I will not allow it. Not on my property!’’ 

He looked stunned by the request, as if he had never been asked to leave a place before. He probably hasn’t. ‘’You can't kick me out! I'm the father of the groom!’’ 

Gomez's expression darken. ‘’I can and I will.’’

Mr. Thorpe turned to his son, begging for his help although he put himself in this situation. ‘’Xavier, you can’t let him kick me out.’’ 

In response, your husband turned his gaze away from his father, his expression tightening. ‘’The Addams have been more of a family to me than you ever were,’’ he said quietly. ‘’I...I don’t need you here.’’

—

Wednesday taglist:  @partyfly @hoodforcalum  @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf  @dragon-chica  @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn  @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit  @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld  @bellblake121890 @kaldurahms-lover  @nephilimsss  @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20  @strangersomeone @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar  @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo  @wrldofsage @manofworm @supersanelyromantic  @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx @mxxny-lupin @idli-dosa

 @silenzju  @sweeterheartxamerica @renaissancewhxre @jordierama @lilppsblog @harrystylesfp  @katsuki420 @ravenssh1t @kenzi-woycehoski @katsukis1wife @momoewn   @hawkegfs   @mommyruuetrue   @lucassinclairsgf  @starrrslove @marissapearle @sshesang @scarxvodka   @illf4iry  @leoluvsur-pappy  @wenvierismycomfort @pedrosprincess @luvvtxinityy @targaryenmoony @icarly23  @red1culous @kattybug  @slytherinambitious @tommysaxes @adaydreamaway08  @lynbubble @pumkinnroses @under-seasoned-pasta   @hoeforsirius @gizmodecaprio   @tristanswildcat   @niktwazny303   @simonessolarsystem   @rehead1180 @heavenly @ortegalvr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @misshale21 @minedofmoria @maria-reads-everything @Nanaldy

[seat-safety-switch]

I love my fireworks, say all my neighbours as they cram a flimsy plastic tube full of low-yield explosives. Surely everyone in my community will also appreciate them. If not, they are some kind of Grumpy Gus and are not invited to the block party cookout. Friends, I can tell you this right now: I am not going to that barbecue.

As you might have imagined, the residents of my area of the world like to shoot off a bunch of Roman candles when they feel like it. Sure, fireworks are fun and all, but I feel like if you're burning three or four hundred dollars worth of illegal noise-and-light generators every couple of weeks, you might as well just take up smoking again.

At first, it was a lot of fun. Very festive. It helped the community spirit, even if all the dogs were constantly terrified and kept trying to chew through a fence to escape. Ol' Ray down the block lost a finger trying to grab onto what he called a "Winky Sprinkler," though, and then everything changed.

Once there was a scent of blood in the air, it became a competition. Ray needed to "make it worth" his sacrifice, so he started amping up his production. Bigger shows. Coordinated by electronics. More frequently. This drew the ire of another rich asshole (Bob Winsome, who used to own the Ford dealership) with poor impulse disorder, and soon the two of them were getting up to a night-time artillery show that the police were not equipped to stop, mostly because they were at the doughnut store or trying to knock over a casino for some quick cash in the retirement fund at the time.

Nearly every night became a terror of pop-pop-pop. although I am very good at ignoring troublesome noises, those noises are usually generated by my own car while I'm driving them. Not constantly happening while I'm trying to focus on my usual problems: things like "why is this bolt stripped," and "where did this pile of wires I just cut through go to?"

As the Constitution says, though: "fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." After one particularly rough night of having exploding munitions going off directly over my head while I was trying to find the origin of some faint valve clatter, I decided to respond in kind. A friend of mine, who will be called Millie Teri for reasons that are about to become clear, loaned me a couple pieces from her private collection. I had myself a patriotic parade that night. Courtesy, of course, of some army bases didn't really pay too close attention to what they listed on eBay. That's what they call "taxpayer value," even if I did have to technically buy the low-shrapnel M107 flash shells twice.

I had expected to draw a truce after demonstrating my superior firepower, much like how French tourists can shut down any discussion of cheese. After bombarding both rich pricks' homes, however, it soon became apparent that the dickheads blamed each other for the massive destruction wrought on their properties, and refused to believe that a belligerent third party could have done such a thing to them just for "several months of sleepless nights courtesy of constant 120dB outside noise."

After the mutually-assured destruction finished, though, I never saw or heard another fireworks display from Ol' Ray or Bob Winsome. If they ever find an identifiable chunk of either of their bodies, we'll probably have a pretty cool tribute at the funeral using up whatever unexploded fireworks they have still left in the scorched remnants of their family homes.

[pidgeeepombo]

Flowers and inconvenient first meets.

Sinopsis: jason is having a bad day, you too, but it doesent stop you to be kind

Fluff!Jason Todd x civilian florist!reader.

A/n: i try to make the Y/n the most neutral as i can! You can imagine any gender for them.

Warnings: hiper cliché, my frist actually romantic x reader fic, i love Jason so much hadhhahshsheheh. English isn't my frist language! Im sorry to any ortografic errors! I hope you like it!

You were at your small flower stand, there wasn't much movement, after all, who has a reason to buy flowers in Gotham city? The cloudy weather left the air feeling depressed, but nothing you weren't used to. The movement of people rushing to get to their appointments ended up causing the vase of tulips that was right in front of their tent to fall, spilling the flowers across the sidewalk.

You hadn't seen who had dropped them, and the person probably didn't even realize they had done it, all you could do was get up from your plastic stool and go gather the poor flowers, in these difficult times losing merchandise meant having the light of a house cut down again, As you bend down to gather the flowers, suddenly a thump happens and you fall back, only hearing a "holy shit" giving the situation some intencity.

Jason Todd was having a rough day. Of course, today was the anniversary of his death, he was definitely not in a good mood to talk, everything had gone wrong for him today, he hadn't slept well, he was quite injured from last night's patrol, and the next day he still had Forcing themselves to go shopping to their safe house, definitely going to the supermarket during rush hours and interacting with people who are just as unhappy as he are is not one of Jason's favorite things. Now, walking home with a rather flimsy paper bag full of supplies, he trips over someone on the street and all their purchases spill onto the floor, *great*

-holy shit.

He looks at the person he bumped into, apparently they weren't in a situation very different from his. Even so, he got frustrated and soon opened his mouth to say something sarcastic. Until the person on the ground comes forward and says:

-I'm really sorry, sir! Did you're hurt? You should take better care of where you're going.

Jason, without much patience, bent down and started to gather his things, while you were gathering your flowers.

-And you shouldn't sit in the middle of the sidewalk.

Jason says with a bitter tone in his voice, you, who perhaps felt worried about having knocked him over, as soon as you finish gathering your flowers you start to help him with the shopping, realizing that his bag had torn, you get up and takes a bag from behind the counter and gives it to the man with black hair, who gets confused, but accepts the kindness, you start helping him gather his purchases.

-I'm sorry again...

-its okay.

he replies dryly, but you really don't care, he must be having as bad a day as you. But you decide to try to give sympathy a chance.

-What's your name?

-...Jason.

- I'm Y/N, nice to meet you. you say, smiling softly as you hand him the last fruit that was lying on the floor

-rouge day, right?

-kind of

He notice that you was trying to make the situation less unconfortable. Jason felt a little uncomfortable at first, he hated interactions with people he didn't know, but he became more relaxed as the other person didn't appear to be a potential threat. He glanced at the florist, their seemed tired, but Gotham does that to people. If he himself wasn't busy with his own problems, he would even find the person on his side pretty.

When they finished gathering things, Jason gets up to leave, but you say:

-Hey sir! Wait a minute.

he stopped and looked at you, you smile gently and hand him a single tulip.

-It's for the inconvenience, sorry again!

-ah... No problem. Thanks.

He leaves holding the flower and analyzing it on the way home, he found it funny in a way, the last time he received flowers was at his funeral. And maybe that made him a little happy, it was hard to find someone kind to strangers in Gotham. He thought a lot about that florist and maybe he wanted to run into them again.

A/n: HEYYY MY SPACE READERS! my frist fic on tumblr? Im kinda pround of myself. This was inspired by a Character A.I boot.... (My favourite one btw) im gonna put the name here later! Byee! I hope you all like it! Take care of yourself!

[meelkiewee]

Hello!

As a first post i wanted to share my favourite bubbies and since tumblr seems more text oriented than the other socials I have, I'd like to explain what was going on in my head while doing their character redesigns~ [BOOKS SPOILERS MENTIONED]

INTRODUCTION

These character designs were made back in winter 2022 for a sort of animation thesis. Many things didn't go according to plan in that school year so for lack of time and motivation I've never really finished the animatic but I will include a wip at the end of this post. The animatic was about my interpretation of their story, finding a person to call home while in a crude and terrible world.

XIE LIAN

Xie Lian is the first of the two I made, his character design was very clear in my mind since the start. It's not largely distant from your official usual XL but I thought it already fitted very well.

The three main colors for XL are white, black and golden yellow. The prevalence of black and white colors was inspired by two main factors:

I personally see XL as a heavily dichotomy based character, not only in the association to the White Clothed Calamity but also in the way he's described as pretty as a flower but skillful with the sword, following a chaste path but mingling with a ghost king, all kind smiles to others but struggling with his own hope, etcetera, etcetera. He is in a constant struggle to find a third option that is better than simply bad or good, mostly in his early God's days, and also later on with ‘not knowing whether to laugh or cry’. So in here, black and white represent the reality of human nature, where you have bad and good qualities alike, a concept I think XL struggled with a lot since he was brought up as the perfect and pure prince that can do no wrong.

According to my research of the meaning behind colors in the chinese culture I discovered black and white can symbolize many things, some of which I found quite fitting for where I wanted to go with my character design. Black can stand for sadness and bad luck. White represents brightness, purity and innocence. In some instances, however, white is also associated with death and is a color commonly worn at funerals. Moreover in my own culture black and white, along with deep blue, are very elegant colors to wear. Simple and elegant is what my XL wants to look like.

Another important part of my XL character design is his bamboo hat.

Following some good old christian imagery I used his hat as an halo. Most of the time I even ignored perspective to make sure his head is always framed in this golden saintly circle In my animatic storyline specifically it represents XL perfection. Soon the hat is lost in the mud and brought back later on by HC with a new meaning of finding yourself in a safe environment with safe people. 

For most of the other design choices I took decisions based on pure aesthetics such as giving him a very elegant mole under the eye, very long and lucious hair and a very very long hanfu with some very very long sleeves. Yes, I wanted him to be very very everything because I very very love him!

Here are some other very very outfits i drew him in for fun and didn’t need for the animatic:

_____________________________________

HUA CHENG

As a premise to my HC character design I want to say I am very amused at people’s different reactions to it. They are usually neatly split in two: either they hate it with a passion or just fall head over heels in love with it, no in between. I personally am in the ‘love it’ side (duh of course I am, I designed it lol) but I also understand if your first thought is “WHO TF IS THAT?”, so let me explain my thought process here.

Firstly, hot take: official HC character is made to be your perfect cool-hot-mysterious-boyfriend™ that has it more together than you do and we don’t like that in this household, at least not always. Yes he is XL’s most devoted believer, yes he is a very powerful supreme, yes he’s always there for his Gege but in the end he’s also a very traumatized person that has had a crush for a guy for 800+ years.

What I’m saying is I wanted him to be a little more relatable and goofy than what books show us so I integrated some of his personality hidden away in E’Ming. From here I got the puffy messy hair, the big round eye and the doubtful expression.

Next up let’s talk about the palette. He also has, like XL, three main colors:

Blue. Mostly of the time he spends around XL he does it in his true form, wich is the form of a dead person (even dead more than once;;). This is pretty self explanatory, when someone dies the hue of their skin goes to blue and also ghosts in general are frequently represented pale blue or white in color. As a little side note to this, I really enjoyed the blue demons HuaLian episode in donghua S2, it made me feel less alone in my smurf choice lol.

Red. This is canonically HC’s color and rightfully so! Red is widely recognized as China's color of good fortune, and in my culture, it is frequently used as a symbol of passion and the color of blood. There is really nothing better than red for Mr. Crimson Rain!

Lilac. Although I'm not sure about my research on this color in Chinese culture, I've read that it modernly represents love or romance. However, growing up in my hometown, purple (and all its shades) was always associated with ugliness and was thought to be a bad omen if worn. Whoever had the nerve to wear it was regarded as a distasteful and ominous weirdo. I think it fitted perfectly with how every other Heaven Official other than XL sees HC; someone who makes blood rain for fun and a potential and actual threat to the Heavenly Court.

As for XL, other choices I made serve a mostly aesthetic purpose. HC’s boxy build, pointy ears and the opened robe to see tiddies(🤩) are some of the notable ones.

HC would not be complete without E’Ming, obviously. After comparing some different blades and trying to integrate a butterfly in the design, I opted for keeping it simple and I ended up with this wobbly shaped hilt made to resemble HC’s bang. The fact that now E’Ming looks like it has a big nose is just an added charm honestly.

CONCLUSION

Thanks for reading until this point I hope you enjoyed my yap and make sure to have a nice day/night! <33

I'll leave the link to my animatic wip here, please note once again that it is not finished in the slightes and there are also some funky expressions that don't really fit the mood lol enjoyyy!

-Sole

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 40

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

TW : Homophobia

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Monday, January 18th; 7:50 AM - School Grounds.

Anxiety slowly takes over me. I’m about to meet my new class in a few minutes. Fortunately, I won’t be doing it alone. Both  Leah and  Lotte are accompanying me on this new adventure, thank God. I would have gone crazy otherwise. As if I hadn’t already had a disastrous night… Nothing is ever normal at home anyway. Everything always happens at once. My nightmares came back stronger than ever. I found myself drenched in sweat in my little bed at three in the morning. I was lucky not to have woken up Lucy. I was in a terrible state. I even had to get up and change. I think she noticed I wasn’t wearing the same pajamas this morning, but she didn’t ask me about it. She’s understood my need for space since her rejection. I don’t want to deal with her until I’ve sorted things out in my head. It’s painful, but I have to look at things positively... I’ve finally granted her wish to sleep in separate beds. Even though it worked against me last night, it’s also what I want now. It was a mistake to get used to being in her arms. I should have known better. I suddenly remembered why I keep my distance from people. But now it’s too late. Too late to regret what’s been done. The problem is, I’ve become dependent on her. That’s an undeniable fact. I found myself lying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep. Her steady breathing calmed me, reminding me that I wasn’t alone, but I still couldn’t sleep. The realization that it was her, her presence against me, that I missed completely overwhelmed me. I had never reached this stage with anyone before, not even Mapi. Instead of swallowing my pride by waking her up or joining her, I locked myself in the bathroom and slid down to the floor. I was on the verge of breaking down, realizing the situation I was in. Everything hit me all at once, and I hadn’t seen it coming. I let her into my life, and now there’s no turning back. I could have cried out in sheer pain, but I didn’t. I held it in because I had no right to do otherwise. I put myself in this situation. The rest of the night gave me plenty of time to reflect with my tormented mind. I ended up spending the rest of the night on that floor until it was time to sneak back to my bed. I didn’t want  Lucy to notice my suspicious absence. My plan worked, and it’s likely to be very effective next time. Though, I doubt my body can endure this for long. I’m already struggling now. I noticed dark circles in the mirror this morning, and my eyes sting.  Lucy couldn’t see them. I rushed to the bathroom as soon as the alarm rang to cover my face with foundation.

“Relax,  Ona,”  Leah chuckles, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You’re acting like we’re going to a funeral. Your stress is palpable from miles away.”

“You’re funny,” I grumbled. “You both know everyone here, unlike me. It feels like I’m starting school all over again.”

“You weren’t even this tense when you first arrived here,” she mocks.

“I didn’t care about being here back then,” I say, shrugging. “Remember, I was looking for a way out.”

“Not anymore?”  Lotte asks.

“Looks like things change.”

“Little Batlle is evolving!”  Leah jokes. “I thought we’d finally get to see a rebel.”

“Pff, nonsense. Of course, Bronze managed to train her student again.”

That unknown voice was harsh. I look around to find the person who dared to listen in on our conversation. I spot a student I don’t know at all. She seems to be mocking me.

“Got a problem?” I reply.

“Me?” she answers, feigning outrage. “Not at all. I was just saying  Bronze succeeded again in taming the camp princess.”

I furrow my brow. Camp princess? What kind of nonsense is this? How do the students know that nickname? An inexplicable rage builds up inside me. So this is what they think of me here? That I was a little rebel that  Lucy managed to tame? If Alessia hadn’t had her hand on my arm, I would have grabbed her collar by now to make her regret her words.

“Let it go, Athenea,” scoffs a girl who just arrived. “The rumors about her must be true. She’s probably a lesbian who can’t resist the charms of our dear instructor.”

I clench my fists so tightly that my knuckles turn white as snow. This is really not the time to provoke me about that. I take a deep breath, telling myself they don’t know what they’re talking about, but that girl’s smug smile is infuriating. Looks like I’ve already found someone to despise in my new class.

“Let it go, Ona. Let them think what they want.”

I take Alessia’s advice and turn my back on those two troublemakers. I’m not going to stoop to their level by getting provoked. They’re just trying to irritate me, but I won’t give them that satisfaction. The best response is to ignore them. I was ready to continue our conversation until I felt a presence behind me.

“By the way, my name is Korbin,” she whispers in my ear. “You’re going to remember my name very quickly with all the trouble I’m going to cause you… filthy dyke.”

She walks past me, turning around to give me one last malicious smile before entering our classroom. Great. This couldn’t have started any better. She clearly doesn’t know who she’s messing with.

“We should go inside,” Alessia gently reminds me.

I nod without taking my eyes off the doors she just walked through.

“Are you okay?” she murmurs.

I sigh, nodding again while trying to hide my slight tremors. This is the first time I’ve experienced a direct homophobic remark. She pats my shoulder before I follow her into our new classroom. Most of the seats are already taken. Luckily,  Leah and Lotte got in before us and saved us seats in the back. I sit next to Alessia, taking the spot by the window. I take out my supplies and put my bag on the floor, then lean against the wall to get a view of my new class. I quickly spot the infamous Korbin, who gives me a twisted smile. Looks like I’ll have to find out more about this girl.

“Good morning, everyone, to your new Business Management class,” my new teacher’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “I’m Mr. Tompson, your new homeroom teacher for the rest of the year.”

I’m surprised to see a young teacher at the front of the class. He’s nothing like any teacher I’ve had before. I’d guess he’s in his early thirties at most. He has a certain charm with his slight beard and tousled chestnut hair.

“I’ll be your management teacher for the rest of the year. We’ll start off slowly by taking roll,” he continues as he heads to his desk. “Just so you know, I have notes on each of you from your previous teachers as well as instructors. This will help your new teachers and me to understand you quickly.”

 Lucy didn’t mention anything about that… Damn. I’m going to be labeled right from the start. I wasn’t particularly liked by my previous teachers.

“Well, let’s get to roll call,” he says, sitting down. “I want to put faces to the names I’ve read about.”

I sink into my chair as he calls the first name on the list. I glance at Alessia, who smiles at me. I was disappointed not to be in the same class as Alexia for the rest of the year, but maybe this will give me a chance to get closer to others. It might be a blessing in disguise. Maybe I’ll be able to forget  Lucy in the process. I furrow my brow when Alessia nudges me.

“ Batlle, Ona?”

“Sorry,” I say aloud, realizing what’s happening. “Here!”

I look my teacher straight in the eye. His are a very plain brown. He gives me a warm smile. I feel like he’s judging me in some way.

“So you’re the famous  Ona I’ve heard so much about,” he says. “I have mixed opinions about you,” he tells me. “A lot of people seem to believe in you. Let’s see how that turns out.”

“She must have slept with Bronze to get positive remarks,” the bitch from earlier snickers.

“Shut up!” I snap without thinking.

I glare at her to emphasize my words. She just smiles at me maliciously. This girl is pure poison, it’s unreal. Many laugh at her stupid joke. I really didn’t need any more rumors about me on top of everything else.

“Hey, that’s enough!” the teacher shouts. “Quiet down,” he demands, silencing the class. “There’s no place for that kind of remark here, got it?! Next time, you’ll explain your inappropriate comments to the principal.”

“Oh, come on, I was just joking,” she giggles.

“Real funny,” I growl.

- "I said that's enough!" he lectures. "I’m going to finish taking attendance, and then we’ll start the lesson right away as a punishment."

Discontented sighs are heard. They better not even try to blame me. The entire class acted childishly. I rest my head against the palm of my hand until attendance is over. I feel like this day is going to be even longer than I expected. My lack of sleep isn’t helping, but it’s best if I don’t draw attention to myself on the first day. Once attendance is over, he follows through on his threat by starting the lesson. This day isn’t much different from other Mondays. My schedule is almost identical. It’s just the content that changes. Today we have two hours of management, then two hours of math. Since it’s the first day, the hours pass more quickly. The teachers take their time getting into the thick of things. We lost half an hour in each subject listening to their spiel and their attendance list, as they don’t know most of us. Finally, lunch arrives. I was chatting with Alessia on the way to the cafeteria until a brown-haired bundle jumps on me, making me lose the little balance I have. I catch her by the thighs to prevent us from falling to the ground.

- "Oh my Onita, I missed you so much!"

- "Alexia," I chuckle. "It was just a morning!"

- "That’s already way too long. I want to see my crazy friend in class!"

I laugh as she hugs me tighter. This position must look hilarious to the others. It’s exactly what I needed after this disastrous start to the day.

- "Putellas, get down immediately," a voice I know too well commands.

My roommate must still be traumatized by Lucy to have listened so quickly. I turn to see her with a stern expression on her face. I simply adjust my backpack properly, then turn on my heel towards the cafeteria with Alexia, who places her arm over my shoulders.

- "Is there any tension in the air with Bronze?" she asks hesitantly.

- "We’ll talk about it later," I reply simply. "How was your morning otherwise?"

- "Calm... Too calm," she sighs. "I really missed you. Plus, I’m with Alba now. I have to behave seriously."

- "Oh, don’t say that," I laugh. "I’m sure she’s not as serious as she pretends to be, little Alba."

- "Oh, not her... But she makes sure that I am."

- "Hey! I’m not that bad," replies Alba, who must have overheard us.

- "Prove us wrong then," I challenge her. "Let your sister live a little!"

- "Well, she lived with you! She only had comments about talking too much in her file."

- "Oh, they gave you your comments? We weren’t so lucky. They only said they couldn’t agree on me."

- "Not surprising," Alba mocks. "Do you have a good class?" she continues.

- "Eh. I have a bitch who’s taken me as a scapegoat."

- "What’s her name?"

- "Korbin, if I remember correctly."

- "Ouch..." she comments. "Avoid her as much as possible. She’s a pain."

- "I noticed. Do you know her? If so, you’ll need to tell me everything you know about her."

- "No problem," she smiles. "We’ll talk about it at the table."

She winks at me before moving forward in line. I realize this is the first sensible conversation I’ve had with Alba. I mean, I talk to everyone around the table, but never one-on-one. The only people who’ve had that privilege are Alexia and Leah. They were the only ones I focused on because I feel close to them. I regret not opening up more to others. I now understand what Mapi meant when she said I was so hooked on Lucy that I could barely talk about my friends. In reality, I gave her so much importance that I didn’t give the same to the other people around me. I think this distance will show me all the things I’ve been missing out on.

Monday, January 18; 5:00 PM - Classroom

I pack up my things as soon as the Alba rings. I absolutely hate my first classes. I just endured two hours of accounting, and I’d be lying if I said I understood anything. It’s a subject that bores me so much that I don’t wait for permission to start packing my bag. I’m the first one standing when the teacher gives the green light to leave.

“In a rush?” Alessia asks, holding me back.

“Uh, yeah. I need to see Wiegman about something personal. I’ll catch up with you in the common room when I’m done.”

“Didn’t you say you’d study in Bronze’ office after your classes?”

“Oh, right. I changed my mind. I’ll study with you guys, so you can help me with what I didn’t understand if that’s okay.”

“No, not at all. I’d be happy to.”

“Cool,” I say with a small smile. “See you later then.”

I quickly escape from that hellish classroom, heading straight to Wiegman’s office as I mentioned. I know the way perfectly, having been there several times already. I don’t hesitate to knock on the

 door. I open it when I’m given permission to do so.

“Good aft-”

I stop in my tracks when I see not one, but two pairs of eyes staring at me.

“Well, hello,  Ona. What brings you here?”

“I wanted to discuss something with you. I can come back later if I’m interrupting.”

“Don’t be silly, we were just finishing up,” she says. “Come sit next to your supervisor. It shouldn’t bother you to talk in front of her, right?”

She couldn’t have picked a worse time to be here. I must be cursed; there’s no other explanation. Having no other choice, I shake my head before closing the door behind me. I move as slowly as possible to the empty chair next to  Lucy, placing my bag between my legs. My pulse quickens, and I can’t control it.

“What did you want to discuss?” she asks.

How did I end up in this situation? I should have left. The topic I want to discuss isn’t one I should address in front of  Lucy. Anxiety takes over me. I lower my head to avoid facing them directly, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling their eyes on me. I shake my head briefly to regain my composure. Her presence should not influence my decision. I’ve had enough time to think it over during the night. I take a deep breath. I’m ready to defend my point if necessary.

“I want to go back to my room,” I blurt out like a bombshell.

With my eyes lowered, I can’t see their reactions. Judging by the silence that follows, I doubt it’s a good one. Surprise, maybe. I gather my courage and raise my head to indeed see that expression on their faces, at least on Wiegman’s.

“I’m feeling better,” I assert confidently. “I still have restless nights, but I’m not having any more episodes. I’ve already caused enough trouble for those around me because of my personal issues.”

Laughter fills the room. I quickly regret meeting my supervisor’s gaze. It’s hard and filled with anger.

“Are you kidding me?” she hisses. “Are we talking about those dark circles under your eyes? You can hide them all you want, but it doesn’t work with me. I absolutely do not agree with this room change.”

And there it is, as expected. I’m screwed. Damn observant! I thought she hadn’t noticed. We both turn to Wiegman, waiting for his decision. She scratches his head while observing us closely. I’ve noticed it’s a habit when she’s thinking. She looks back and forth between us before finally focusing on me.

“Why do you want this change, Ona?”

“I’ve already troubled my supervisor enough. She’s losing sleep because of me, and I don’t want that to continue.”

“She volunteered for this. She’s doing it willingly. Unless you’ve changed your mind, Ms.  Bronze?”

I sense agitation next to me. She’s probably seething right now. I won’t come out unscathed from this meeting.

“Absolutely not,” she growls.

“Good. In that case, it’s up to you to decide what’s best for your student.”

“Her episodes are unpredictable,” she responds. “There’s no way she can return to her room right now.”

The tone she uses sends shivers down my spine. I don’t even dare look at her anymore. She’s going to hate me after this… Maybe that’s what I was aiming for when I made this decision. I raise my eyes to our principal when she speaks again.

“So the matter is settled,” she says, causing my shoulders to slump in defeat. “Don’t feel embarrassed about such small things,  Ona. We’re here to help you, don’t forget that. We were just talking about the remarkable progress you’ve made in your behavior.”

“Um… right,” I respond indifferently. “Can I go now? My friends are waiting for me.”

- "Yes, of course, you can go."

- "Thank you for seeing me. Goodbye."

I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. I head for the door, feeling the weight of  Lucy's eyes on my back.

- "You can leave too, Miss Bronze. We were finished."

I suddenly pale. Damn! I hear her thank Wiegman as I make a run for it to get out of there. I was on a good track until I heard her after slamming the door.

- "Not so fast, Batlle!"

Ouch. It's not a good sign when she uses my last name. I do the exact opposite of what she asked, running towards the exit. I was about to reach the door when  Lucy couldn't control her momentum in the chase and ended up crashing into me as I stopped. Her body pins mine against the door before she grabs me by the collar of my jacket. She forcibly drags me to a room I recognize as the restroom when we arrive. She immediately locks the door behind us to prevent me from escaping.

- "What the hell is your problem?" I snap.

- "My problem?!" she exclaims. "What about yours? You've been avoiding me like the plague since this morning! You haven't said a word to me, and now I find you in Wiegman's office asking for a room change? When exactly were you planning to tell me, huh?"

I've never seen her this angry before. She's so red with rage that I don't even dare to speak. I'm paralyzed. She seems to notice my fear because she closes her eyes for a moment. I could have taken the opportunity to slip away if she weren't standing in front of the door. I don't feel ready to face her now. I probably never will be. But I know she won't let me out of here without getting her answers, thanks to those two determined emerald jewels of hers.

- "Answer me. Explain yourself, or... I don't know. Do something!"

Her tone is harsh, and she's losing patience.  Lucy has never been someone who loses patience. My silence is affecting her more than I imagined. I lower my head, trying to come up with some reasonable excuse for what I've done, but what's the point? There’s none that can replace the truth.

- "I-I can't,  Lucy."

- "Can't what?"

- "Act like nothing happened! You rejected me, and I accept that, but... But don't blame me for distancing myself. I've been hurt by rejection enough in my life. I don't want it to happen again."

Her shoulders slump at my response. It was like she just realized the consequences of her decision.

- " Ona..." she says in a strangely calmer voice. "I-"

- "No, shut up. I don't care about the reasons, okay? I don't even know if there are any, but I understood your choice. You can't or you won't. I don't know, but the result is the same. Either way, I can't let myself develop any further feelings for you."

- "It's my fault we've come to this... I should have maintained my professionalism and avoided giving you false hope."

I laugh bitterly. I don't regret how I feel about her at all. It's her reaction I regret. I say nothing, preferring to play along with her.

- "Yeah, maybe you should have, but it's too late now."

- "I never wanted things to get to this point,  Ona. I-I thought we could stay friends, that I could help you. That's all I was trying to do."

- "You don't get it," I spit out.

She doesn't understand that it's her that I need, the relationship she's denying me. She reignited something in me that had been destroyed in my downward spiral. I'd never felt as good as I did with her by my side. I take a deep breath as I see her watching me curiously. If she thinks I'm going to make it easy for her by saying all this, she's dreaming. Who knows why she doesn’t want me? Maybe she’s seeing someone else, like that girl from the other night. They seemed close and she was pretty cute. I shake my head to get that image out of my mind. It’s none of my business.

- "Forget it. I-I... You know, today I realized that I've deprived myself of so much by focusing on you. I never wanted to feel these things for you, but it's not something you can control. I can't turn back now. Just when I thought I had finally discovered the real you..." I murmur thoughtfully.

- "Nothing is stopping us from continuing..." she murmurs, almost desperately.

- "N-no... I-I'm really sorry... B-but, I need to step back. That’s all I’m asking. If you care about me even a little, then... Stay out of my life until I need you again."

These words hurt, but it's the only solution I've found if I don't want to lose her entirely and waste the progress I've made. Running away has always been my way of protecting myself. I know  Lucy can understand that. She’s always been able to read me with unsettling ease. That’s probably why she looks so sad. She knows it’s the only way to keep me intact. She’s the one who transformed me, but she could also be the one who destroys me in the blink of an eye. That thought terrifies me. I should never have gotten so attached to her or developed these feelings. And then my friends wonder why I don’t open up anymore. It was to avoid moments like this that I stopped trusting new people. I should have kept going down that path. You always end up disappointed, even with someone as perfect as  Lucy.

- "Okay," she resigns. "I want you to know that I never wanted things to get to this point, but I'll give you the space you need so I don’t lose you completely..."

I avoid looking at her so she doesn’t see how much her words affect me and how they sting my heart. She doesn't even try to stop me or change my mind. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her for putting barriers between us. No matter what she says, I know our relationship isn’t meaningless to her. Or maybe it is. Maybe I’ve been wrong all along.

- "Thank you for respecting my choice..." I say, not without difficulty.

- "It’s not without conditions."

My jaw tightens. How dare she ask something of me? Seeing that I’m not planning to respond, she continues.

- "I’ll give you the space you need, but you’re still sleeping in my room. I’m also offended that you wanted to talk to Wiegman about it before consulting me."

- "To forget about this whole thing, I need to cut ties completely..." I admit. "I knew you’d never let me leave, which is why I went to her directly without consulting you."

- "I figured as much, but that’s not going to happen," she says, frowning. "No matter what happened between us, there’s no way I’m going to let you spiral down again."

- "I’m not spiraling."

- "I know you. This is my condition,  Ona. I also want to keep our evening classes. Just because we had this little falling out doesn’t mean you should jeopardize your education."

I scoff at her words. So this is just a "little falling out" to her? I doubt she understands my feelings for her, then.

- "I’m not planning to jeopardize my education," I reply coldly. "But I’m not keeping those classes. I asked Alessia to help me instead, and she agreed."

My answer seems to surprise her. She doesn’t realize how thoroughly I’ve thought this through. She almost looks disappointed. Knowing that I’m still attending classes, she has no reason to forbid it.

- "I guess that’s non-negotiable...?"

- "Exactly. I need to spend time with my friends and distance myself from you."

- "Very well..." she sighs. "But don’t completely ignore me like you have the last couple of days. I want you to talk to me at least a little."

- "Yeah, whatever you say, Commander. Can I go now that the negotiations are over?"

- "Hmm... I’ll see you tonight," she says as she opens the door.

- "Yeah. I’ll probably be with Alexia before I come."

I walk out with my head held high. I feel relieved of a burden after confessing my feelings and proud of not backing down for once. But that confidence fades once I’m away from her. I have no idea how I’ll feel in the coming days... I’ve focused so much on her these past few months that it feels like I can’t live without her, and the consequences are starting to scare me. I take a deep breath when I get outside. I’m determined to prove to her—and to myself—that I can live without her. If I can make her regret her choice in the process, that would be the ultimate goal. I stop thinking about her when I reach the common room. All my friends are there. I join Alessia and Alexia, who are sitting around a table working. Well, if you can call it that. It looks more like they’re chatting than anything else.

- "Oh, Onita!"

- "Don’t start calling me that," I grimace.

- "I think it’s a cute nickname," Alessia comments.

- "Would you prefer ‘Princess’ instead?" Alexia teases. "I heard that one’s making the rounds at school."

I sigh and nod. Unfortunately, I think I’d rather it be "Onita" spreading instead of the other one. It’s going to remind me of  Lucy, and that’s exactly what I would have preferred to avoid. The first days are going to be very long. I take out my notes while replying.

- "Yeah, it seems so... I wish it weren't the case. I don’t even know how they could have found out."

- "Who knows," Ale smiles. "I heard you were at Wiegman ’s?"

- "Yeah. Bronze was there too."

- "And...?" she asks hesitantly, which makes me shrug.

- "If you want to talk amongst yourselves, I can step out," Alessia offers.

- "No, don’t worry. We’ll talk about it tonight."

- "Hey Ona, you’re finally here!" Alba enthusiastically says. "Want to play a game of foosball?" she suggests.

- "Not tonight, sorry. Alessia owes me some tutoring and it might take a while... I’m really completely lost in my new subjects."

- "To that extent?" Alessia asks. "It’s not that complicated."

- "Oh yes! It’s like Chinese to me, seriously! How can such things even exist?" I grumble.

- "Okay, I get it," Alessia chuckles. "We’ll review everything from the beginning."

I nod with a small smile. I move my chair closer to her with my stuff. I just grab some scratch paper, as I used to do with Lucy... Alessia returns my smile and gets into the groove of going over our lessons for the day. I hope the motivation will be with me; otherwise, I’ll never make it through the year.

Monday, January 18; 8:30 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room

- "How could I have missed so much?"

I’ve just confessed everything to Alexia. When I say everything, I mean the entire story between Lucy and me. I couldn’t keep it to myself knowing how I’m going to feel in the coming days. She would have found out something was wrong anyway, and I doubt she would have stayed quiet without getting answers this time. All I can say is that she is not at all happy. She’s upset that I hid the progress of this relationship from her. I bite my lip, realizing the stupidity of excluding Ale from my life. I should have confided in her rather than Lucy. Her eyes did light up when I admitted that I’ve been sleeping with her recently or when I explained how much I care about her, even now.

- "Are you in love with her?"

- "No... I said I care about her, not that I’m in love with her."

- "It was just a simple question... You know, you’re allowed to be."

- "No, I’m not allowed," I sigh. "I just told you she turned me away. Developing feelings for her would destroy me..."

- "Good grief," she sighs. "Can’t you hear yourself? It can’t be like this. Didn’t you see the way she looked at me at lunch when I was on your back? I thought she was going to kill me with that hurt look!"

- "You’re exaggerating," I roll my eyes.

- "No, I assure you... There must be another reason she doesn’t want to develop your relationship."

- "Whatever... I extended an olive branch for her to change her mind, and she didn’t take it. She accepted me stepping away rather than keeping me by her side. It’s pretty clear as a response, don’t you think? Besides, this break won’t hurt me. She just made it clear that I need to continue being wary of people."

- "I doubt she wants you to react like this..."

- "I don’t care. I just need to clear my mind, and this is the only way I can do that."

- "Alright... If you say so."

I put down the pencil I had between my fingers and let my sketchbook fall between my thighs. It’s been so long since I touched my drawing materials that I’d forgotten the relaxing effect they gave me. As far back as I remember, they were always my best means of escape. Staying in my room with Alexia was probably the best idea I had to escape Lucy for the evening. Lucy hadn’t forgotten that I owed her an explanation, so she dragged me to come with her, but I admit I should have thought of that from the start.

- "Lucy had become my pillar, but I need to prove to myself that I can live without her."

- "You’ve become addicted to her, huh?"

I frown when she says that. It’s not the first time someone has said that to me. Mapi was the first, and I’m starting to question it.

- "No... Haven’t you been talking to Mapi?"

- "Oh, no... Not at all," she mocks.

- "Of course! What did she tell you?"

- "Nothing. She wanted you to tell me yourself. I assure you," she smiles. "But now that you’ve explained everything, I can finally understand what she was talking about, and sorry for you, but I can only agree with her. You’re in love with Lucy, and you’re denying it."

- "That’s not true," I protest.

- "Yes, it is. Just admit it."

- "Definitely not."

- "Say it. It will set you free, you’ll see."

- "No," I say, shaking my head. "You don’t understand," I say desperately, making her sigh.

- "Come here."

She pats her bed. I sigh but join her, grabbing my pillow and hugging it like a stuffed animal. I then curl up when she forces me to rest my head on her shoulder. My eyes fix on a point as I lose myself in my thoughts. Ale’s strokes in my hair, meant to relax me, have the opposite effect. I hate her. That’s how I feel about Lucy right now. All the recent moments of my life are related to her. She has taken up too much space, and now I have to live with this idea while trying to resume my life before she came along. The problem is, I don’t know how it works anymore. She took care of everything. It’s as if she did my thinking for me. I wasn’t ready for everything to turn out like this. I suffocate as I release the lump that had been stuck in my throat for too long.

- "Let it out."

That’s all it takes for my tears to start flowing down my cheeks. I can’t control myself anymore. Everything comes like a tornado. I let myself fall against Alexia, who opens her arms without hesitation. I never thought it would hurt this much.

- "I love her, damn it."

I close my eyes as Alexia encourages me to let go of everything my mind has prevented me from doing. I haven’t cried this much since I’ve been in this damn camp. I’ve felt sad more than once in my life, but I’ve never expressed it so much to others. I feel like I’ve become sensitive to everything. I collapse onto my roommate’s lap as she lets me unload my emotions. She achieved what she wanted. I feel drained. I’ve poured out everything I could until I ran out of strength. Alexia holds me against her, giving me soothing pats on the top of my head to calm me down. I look pathetic with my pillow clutched against me. We stay like this for a while until a muffled noise is heard at the door. I straighten up with my back to it to wipe my face as best as I can. The door opens without permission.

- "Oh, hello Bronze..."

I freeze at Ale’s clearly deliberate hint. I can only mentally thank her for making me realize it was her behind me. I was expecting her if I came too late to her room. I think curfew must be approaching. I squeeze my eyes shut to compose myself before facing her.

- "I was told I’d find you here," she says. "Curfew is coming soon, and it seems you still need to take a shower."

- "I was about to come," I mumble.

- "Hmm... I just wanted to make sure. I was afraid you might skip out on me despite our conversation."

I haven’t discussed this part with Alexia. I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound for now. I guess I’ll have to talk to her about it tomorrow now that she has brought it up.

- "I’m coming. You can go. I’ll tidy up first."

- "I’ll wait."

I sigh and grab my sketchbook from my bed with a brusque motion. I put it away in the cupboard with the rest of the materials, taking care not to turn around even once. It’s only when I pick up my jacket from the desk that she’s likely to see my disheveled state. I approach Alexia, who has already gotten up in the meantime. I give her a huge hug of thanks. I struggle to detach my head from her neck. I imagine her smiling to give her a rare and intense contact from me.

- "Rest, " she whispers in my ear. "It will be okay."

I nod and give her a lingering kiss on the cheek. She smiles softly as we wish each other goodnight. I put my hood over my head to hide the aftermath of my evening. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucy, who immediately comments as I pass by her. I simply keep my head down so she doesn’t see my face as we walk.

- "I thought you weren’t coming..." she murmurs. "Sorry for barging in."

- "Trust reigns," I snap. "But it’s no problem."

- "How was your day?" she tries to continue the conversation.

- "Great. Yours?"

- "Good... And your new class?"

- "I’ve had better."

- "With Alexia, I assume."

- "Not just that."

My short, undeveloped responses make her sigh. I would have loved to tell her about my day, but I promised myself to keep my distance from now on. It’s always her who gets my debrief normally, but today it’s not the case. I’ve done it with Alexia and Amba for once. We talked a lot about that pest Korbin. I learned a few things about her, but nothing crazy. All I learned is that she’s not a person worth hanging out with. We finish the walk to her room in silence. I directly look for my pajamas and clothes for tomorrow before locking myself in the bathroom. I stay there for a good half hour for a shower. When I come out, Lucy is already ready for bed but absorbed in her laptop on her lap. I ignore her and lie down on my small bed. I still wish her goodnight before turning my back to avoid the small light she left on her side. She seems determined to leave me alone, as she responds with a simple goodnight in return.

[katz-chow]

This is so Phillip Graves coded....thoughts? Also love your work♡^^

bang bang

a/n: STOP NO I LOVE THIS SONG. you're so right babyboo this is so graves coded. how much of life passed by him because of how much time he dedicated to his work. let me show you. angst, good ending, gn! reader, not how i normally write graves, him being an ass, slight suicidal themes, one religious bit, ignoring mw3

Phillip hadn't meant to leave you all alone all those years ago. Memories of weeping willows and tall grass in the scorching summer heat before school started to flood his mind as he drove through sun-bleached roads in the Hill Country. He was finally going home, back to the place where he could finally retire. Sure, he hasn't been back here in 5 years, but he was working and doing important missions within the military, you knew that.

He made sure you knew that when he left for the cold plains of Colorado to start up the Shadow Company. "It's dangerous work, Sweetheart." He said as he held your hand close to his chest. You were crying, begging to come with him, the shiny new ring on her your finger gleamed in the airport lighting.

"No. it's too dangerous, I don't want them coming after you..." He said when you called him a few weeks later after he informed you that he was going overseas. Again, you begged to be able to call him, to have any grasp of him and who he belonged to. And again, he denied it.

You suggested letters on a call a few months later, after he had gotten back from that first mission. He seemed more on edge, hardened...not your Phillip. He cursed and groaned, "When will you understand how dangerous everything is?! Use your brain and think will you? If I send back letters, they'll know where to find you. If you send back letters, they'll know where to find me. Hell, they can probably trace this call right back to you at this very moment and I can't do shit about that!"

You ended the call, frustrated tears rolling down your cheeks. You threw the sheets off of you and screamed into the pillows. You missed him and, of course, he just wanted you to be safe.

Soon, his signal got weaker and weaker. Letters were out of the option except for a rare one-pager or a post card sent from him. Mexico...seemed like a nice place to be, while you're stuck here in Texas, without your husband.

One month turned into two, and then 4 years, and then...he was dead. One of his old military buddies showed up to your door along with a shadow you've never seen before, a flag in hand.

You didn't cry during the funeral, there was no body. You didn't cry when you were handed the flag. You didn't cry on the drive home. You didn't cry until the sun went down and the normally empty house seemed colder, the last smoldering coal cooling down. That was when you couldn't take it anymore. Your knees sank down and hit the hardwood in your living room, framed pictures of the two of you hiking in California glimmered with the faint kitchen light that seemed so, so far away.

You felt the surge of guilt roll over you he was right, he was only keeping you safe from the mess of the world while you got to stay at home. But instead of admiring him and his care, you screamed and cursed and kicked and...cried. You cried out to him and he had no choice but to swallow the stinging in his chest whenever you asked when he was coming home. You couldn't see it at the time. Funny how these things work, it takes death to make you see it.

“If God teaches in this way, by weakening you into a vulnerable thing in order to beg for mercy, he is not a kind god. If this is the case, kill me too. If it’s cowardly than I accept being a coward, if it means I can be with him again.”

His death wrecks you. You don’t come out of the house anymore, not even to get groceries. You order things at your doorstep. You only open the door for people to send their condolences, but never allow them to go in nor do you want to go out. The house is no longer pristine and ready for him to come home at any minute anymore, because you know he won’t.

So imagine the sound of an engine cutting off in front of your house. Then the sound of a large car door closing. And then the keys turning the lock open. You don’t move from your nest of a bed, you figure you had forgotten to eat and the hallucinations are coming in. So you stare at the window blinds, bright sun outside causing a slight glow in your bedroom. You sigh. A lovely day gone to waste again, shame…

“Honey? I know you’re here, your car’s parked out…” His voice chirps as you hear heavy footsteps make its way around the small house. Then the sound of the door opening, your back facing it. You keep your eyes ahead, preparing for the part where everything fades to black and you fall asleep. You start to see the familiar figure in your peripheral and then his face knelt down to meet yours on the bed. You look at him, tiredly and sadden, dismissing the vision as you closed your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Baby…” His knuckles brush against your cheekbones and your eyes dart open and wide, looking up at him.

“Phillip…?”

His hand caress your face as yours reach out to him, fingers pinching and pulling at his face. He smiled softly. “It’s just me, again…Hi..”

Tears formed in your eyes as you sat up in bed, scrambling into his arms as you both sit on the floor. You screamed and sobbed and hit him as he held you close. “I thought you were fucking dead for almost a year, a whole fucking year, you asshole!”

Phillip didn’t seem fazed with your words nor your fists weakly hitting his back as you buried your face into him. “I know I’m sorry…I’m here now. I’m real, it’s okay, we’re okay.”

Your Phillip was home, safe and in your arms. He knew you would react in some way, but somehow he didn’t know it equate to you physically hitting him. He held you as tight in his arms as you would let him as you cried and screamed.

You succeeded in pulling away from him, tears turning into sniffles and a furrowed brown.

"I miss you."

A harsh pain whipped onto the side of his face, hard enough to pull his gaze from you to the bookshelf in the back against the wall.

"Don't do that again." You stared at him, tears silently rolling down your flushed cheeks as sniffled, lip quivering.

"I'll be here."

[moraxsthrone]

HELLOOO I saw your requests were open so can i request thoma and zhongli (seperate) accidently catching their very shy s/o play a song on a piano dedicated to them? Thank you and have a nice day or nighttttt

hi hi! so sorry it's taken me so long to answer this! 🥺 i'm a terrible blog owner! 😭 but this is such a unique idea that i've thought about it so many times over the past few months. 😩 i wrote thoma's part a few weeks ago and finally got struck by the inspiration to write zhongli's part tonight. i hope you like it.

i love piano btw! it's my favorite instrument! do you play? i tried teaching myself several years ago. i didn't stick with it but it gave me a whole new appreciation for those who are disciplined enough to play this elegant instrument. 🖤

♬♪ THOMA —

he’s been looking forward to seeing you all day and a small smile adorns his face knowing he’s mere moments from hugging and kissing you.

thoma hears the beautiful melody before he even opens the door, and his smile grows wider.

easing his way in quietly, he stays out of sight for the time being so as not to distract you. besides, the tune you’re playing is so lovely that he wants to hear it to the end.

he’s probably heard you play over a hundred times, but he doesn’t recognize this song. it’s got to be one of the prettiest melodies he’s ever heard, a little slow and so graceful it nearly moves him to tears.

when you finish, you’re startled by his clapping. you whip around on the wooden bench, looking at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile on your face. “you- you heard that?”

he nods. “sure did,” he says, walking to you and bending down to leave a sweet kiss on your parted lips. “that has to be the prettiest song i’ve ever heard, but i don’t think i’ve heard you play that one before. when did you learn it?”

“well, i-” you start, watching as thoma props an elbow on top of the piano and rests his chin on his palm expectantly. “actually, i’ve been working on it for some time now. i was hoping to surprise you with it once it’s done, but…” you look down at your hands.

"once it's done?" your boyfriend furrows his brow. “you mean…you wrote this?” he asks, eyeing the sheet music.

you nod. “it’s not finished just yet, but…you like it?”

“i love it! of all the songs i’ve heard you play, i think it’s my favorite!”

a shy, proud smile warms your face. "i- i wrote it for you, thoma,” you confess, glancing up to meet his kind face.

thoma’s smile drops and his soft green eyes widen and shimmer with unshed tears. “f- for me?” his voice barely registers above a whisper. “will you play it again? from the beginning?”

your smile grows. “of course.”

thoma folds his arms on top of the piano, propping his chin on his forearm and watching you like a love struck puppy while you play the most beautiful song, just for him.

♬♪ ZHONGLI —

the funeral parlor had closed not half an hour ago when you sit down at the baby grand in the main hall. hu tao joins you, always eager to hear the way you play so beautifully.  

zhongli, who has heard you play so many times that he’s grown quite accustomed to it, repeats your takeout orders back to you and the director to ensure their accuracy before making his way out of the doors.

upon watching him exit, his amber-tipped rat tail fluttering behind him, you turn to hu tao and smile.

“well? let’s hear it!” she urges, clapping excitedly.

for the past few weeks, you’ve been composing a song for your beloved husband and hu tao has been your sole test audience. you’ve relied mostly upon your own musical training and expertise, but you've also sought the funeral director’s opinion, given that she arguably knows him and his tastes better than anyone else.

you chuckle and begin to play a slow, melodic tune that makes hu tao swoon. her hands go to cover her mouth and you swear you see a tear in her eye when the parlor door suddenly opens. the music stops cold as your eyes grow wide at the sight of your beloved. why is he back so soon?

“ah,” he starts tentatively, “i seem to have forgotten my wallet…”

he slowly makes his way to the open body of the piano, growing genuinely concerned about the way you look like you’ve seen a ghost. “my dear, why did you stop? i could hear the spellbinding tune you were playing even from outside - several steps away from the doors…it was at once riveting and heartbreaking...”

your mouth opens, but before you can speak hu tao chimes in, rather loudly. “mr. zhongli! it’s a song y/n wrote for you!”

as zhongli’s bright eyes widen, all the heat in your body rises to your face, leaving your fingers feeling suddenly cold and unable to move. you'd still been in the process of putting on the finishing touches, wanting to ensure nothing short of perfection before debuting it to your dear lover and muse.

as the surprise leaves his face, his features soften as a small, perfect smile graces his flawless face. your mouth has gone dry. you’re hardly able to swallow as he speechlessly circles behind you, so moved and overtaken, honored that you’ve put the time and effort into composing such a lovely work of art just for him…

“it’s the most exquisite thing i’ve ever heard” he says as he sits down beside you on the ebony bench. “will you teach me to play it?”

m.list

[toothpastecanyon]

Return, to the Scene of the Crime

Playing human again, Alcor makes it longer than he usually does. He's in college now, juggling classes, family, a curious vampire, and a strange, increasingly sinister web of mysteries weaving themselves around him. Without his omniscience to guide the way, he'll have to work hard to get to the bottom of this before it spirals out of control.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

Lucy Ann was asleep when her phone rang. She grumbled and turned over, fishing in her pocket to mute it. Then it rang again, and with a heavy sigh, she cracked open an eyelid to see who it was.

“Alcor,” she muttered. “Ugh… fine, alright.”

Sitting up, she pushed the lid of the coffin open, and shielded her phone from the screams in the funeral home as she put it to her ear.

“Yeah, what?”

“Lucy Ann?”

“Yeah, it’s me, dude.” She rubbed her eyes. “What is it? Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Oh, do you want me to – I can call back-”

“What is it?”

She heard him take a deep breath, and rolled her eyes. She stood up and stretched as he seemed to collect his thoughts.

“I…” he started. “I’m going away for a while. I wanted to call you before I… I won’t be summonable, so I wanted to let you know how to, how to reach me if you need me.”

“Ah, this is one of these Noie deals, huh? Glad you’re finally giving me a heads up.”

“Yeah, I don’t – I-I know how it went last time, I don’t want that to happen again.”

Lucy Ann glanced down at the glove on her hand. He kept going.

“So I’m giving you a special circle you can use to contact me – uh, it’ll break my enchantments, so if it could be an emergencies only kind of thing…?”

“Got it.”

“Okay… yeah, thanks. And if you need to see me in person, I’ll be down in the California Isles. The family’s really nice – they, hah, they actually own a funeral home-”

“No way! In Maine?”

“In- no, California. I just told you-”

“Oh, yeah! Right.” Lucy Ann gave a little chuckle as she looked at an urn. “Sorry, I got carried away there. That would’ve been a hell of a coincidence.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it, uh,” she cleared her throat. “Okay. That sounds good. Thanks for letting me know, Al.”

“Of course. I’ll send the circle to you and then… get set up.” He seemed like he wanted to say more; after a moment, he spoke again. “So, uh, see you in a couple decades?”

“Yeah, see you then,” she said, and then grinned. “Or who knows, maybe I’ll pay a visit.”

“Pay a visit? What?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll see if you loosen up a bit without that demon angst you’ve always got going on.” She heard him laugh, and gave a little chuckle herself… but soon it faded, and she cleared her throat again. “Uh, anyway, good luck with that, I guess. See you around.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you.”

When Lucy Ann hung up the call, the little joke she’d made about dropping in on him had already slipped her mind. For almost twenty years she went on wandering as she always did, thinking of Alcor only rarely, wondering how he was doing. She wasn’t ever thinking of actually following through on that joke… but, you know, sometimes things don’t happen for anything as grand as fate or careful planning.

Sometimes they just fall into place.

She was bouncing around the Isles when she remembered Alcor. googled the name of that funeral home he’d given her, as she sometimes did – just to see if they were still in business, but she came across a little blog post the owners posted: ‘HE GOT INTO HONORS COLLEGE!!!’ It was a picture of Dipper with a dorky smile and a graduation cap, and she couldn’t help but snicker to herself at the glowing paragraphs his parents had posted to their business page. Jeez, he was still going, wasn’t he? She didn’t want to be rude on the phone, but she was expecting this thing to flame out early as it usually did.

So… he was just living the regular human life, huh?

Huh.

…

Lucy Ann looked around the motel room she was in, decided she didn’t have anything interesting going on, and started packing.

______________________________________________________________

“Murdered! She was murdered!”

“Dude.”

“I can’t believe it, who would do this! I just can’t-”

“Dude, Darren!” Dipper put his hands on the guy’s shoulders. “Keep your voice down. I thought you came to me because you didn’t want the RA to hear!”

Lucy Ann chuckled a bit as Darren shut his mouth. She watched Dipper walk back to the bird cage under the dorm room bed. There was a little pile of ash under the perch; opening the cage, he pinched some between his fingers.

“Look,” Dipper said. “Nobody killed your phoenix, okay? This isn’t phoenix ash.”

“Wha- what?”

“Phoenix ash is highly magical.” He brought out a little necklace tucked under his shirt; there was a dull blue glass pendant on the end of it, and nothing happened when he brought the ash to it. “See? My necklace lights up when it’s repelling magic, and it’s getting nothing here. It’s just regular ash.”

Darren sniffed and wiped his nose. “So… so Flamey’s alive?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, man, she’s alive.” He paused, meaningfully. “But… someone wanted you to think she was dead.”

Darren gasped. Lucy Ann watched with a grin as Dipper got to his feet, dusting off his hands.

“My guess is it’s some kind of prank, but it could be that someone stole your phoenix for themselves. Who else knows about Flamey?”

“I-I don’t… no one, I think!” He wrung his shirt. “I mean my dorm mate does, but he wouldn’t steal her – Alex hates living with her!”

“Hates living with her, eh?” Lucy Ann raised her eyebrows at Dipper. “Maybe it’s not been stolen to keep.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Dipper nodded to himself. Darren leaned in further.

“You think… you think Alex murdered Flamey?”

“No, I told you, no one murdered-” There was a knock at the door just then, and Dipper looked up. “Hello?”

“Uh, hello?” Said the voice. “This is my room, who’s in here?”

“That’s Alex,” Darren murmured, and then he called out: “Just some friends of mine!”

The door opened slowly, and Alex popped his head in, frowning. “Uh, okay. Hey, Darren, how long are they gonna be here? I’ve gotta study.”

“Oh, we’re just wrapping up,” Dipper said, letting what he probably thought was a very sly smile snake across his face. “But, uh… Alex, was it? I just got one question for you.”

“Uh, sure?”

“You got a lighter?”

Alex frowned. “A lighter? No.”

“Oh, okay.” Dipper glanced across the room. “That’s weird, then. You got a scented candle on your desk.”

Darren groaned. “I hate that candle, man, it smells like old people. And isn’t it, like, a fire hazard?”

“Fire hazard?” Alex crossed his arms. “Seriously, man? You’re going on about a fire hazard?”

“You don’t like that he keeps a phoenix under his bed, do you?”

Alex blinked, and then scowled at Dipper. “Yeah, duh, would you?”

“So you stole it.”

“So- wait, what? I didn’t – hey, who is this guy, Darren?”

“You stole Flamey?” Darren stared slackjawed at him. “You did, didn’t you!”

“And then you burned some paper and planted it in her cage so he’d think she was dead.” Dipper crossed his arms. “Pets aren’t allowed in the dorms, so you thought Darren wouldn’t report it to anybody. It was the perfect crime!”

“I… I…” Alex blinked a few times, then huffed and threw up his hands. “Okay, fine! I gave her to my aunt!”

“Alex!”

“And I’d do it again! You know what the real crime is? Keeping a flaming fucking bird in a tiny cage under your bed! I was doing you and her a favour!”

“I can’t believe you! You get her back, okay! You get her back or, or… or I’ll tell the RA about the candles!”

“Oh-hoh, okay, you tell them about the candles and I’ll tell them about the giant bird you had under your bed! We’ll see what they’re more interested in!”

“Flamey!”

Dipper and Lucy Ann strolled out of the dorm room together. Lucy Ann took one look at his smug face and poked him in the ribs.

“Wha- hey! What was that for?”

“If your head gets any bigger it’s not gonna fit in the doorway.” She smirked at him. “I guess you did okay, though. Quick thinking on the ash.”

“Yeah, heh…” He rubbed his side. “That was not what I expected when Darren came over. Still, that was pretty good, wasn’t it? It was like being a detective!”

“You’re a real Sherlock Holmes.”

With a laugh, Dipper unlocked his dorm, held it open for her, and followed her in. It was a tiny space, but at least it was a one-bedroom; a bunk bed slotted against one wall, and a desk was crammed against the other, leaving only a narrow walkway from the door to a tiny square of window. Dipper’s desk was covered in books and notes; his magi-orb was open but asleep, and he made his way over to wake it up.

On the way, he got a little tangled with the sleeping bag on the floor – more accurately, this used to be a one-bedroom. Lucy Ann snorted.

“Hey, you’re stepping on my pillows!”

“Oops, sorry.” He watched her lounge out on the floor with a raised eyebrow. “You know, you sure you still want to stay here?”

“Yup.” She picked up a book beside her bed, and glanced over at him. “What, you tired of me?”

“No, no! I just – I mean, it’s been so cool to meet the real Lucy Ann, but I still don’t get why you’ve decided to hang around me.” He watched her face twist into a knowing grin, and rolled his eyes. “You’re never gonna tell me why, are you.”

She just winked at that, and buried her head in her book. Shaking his head, he turned back to his magi-orb and tapped it a few times; it flared to life, and Dipper’s necklace gave off a soft blue glow as he started scrolling. A news article popped up, and he clicked on it.

“Huh.” He said to himself. “Hey, you remember that jewellery store robbery last week?”

“No.”

“It was that one super close to campus – we got alerts about it.”

She just shrugged, so he started reading off the article.

“Suspect in jewellery store stick up still at large after mysterious disappearance, magical influence suspected.” His eyes skipped further down. “Oh, nice, looks like the guy he shot got out of the hospital today.”

“Good for him.”

“Mysterious disappearance… they say he went into a back room away from the cameras and just disappeared. No windows in the room either, isn’t that weird?”

Finally, Lucy Ann glanced up from her book and gave him an odd look. “Yeah, I guess it’s weird. Why, you wanna rob a jewellery store or something? It’s not as fun as it sounds.”

“No, I’m just… how did he disappear like that?” He sat back in his chair, stroking his chin. “I mean, locked room, no windows-”

Lucy Ann let out the biggest groan. “Oh, no. You call a guy Sherlock once and he becomes insufferable – if you start reading every random crime report to me I really will leave, okay?”

“Okay, okay!” He put his hands up. “Sheesh. I just thought it was a cool mystery. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

“I’m not biting your head off, I’m just saying that’s cop shit.” She flashed a fanged grin at him. “Come on, your life’s too short to care who makes off with some pretty rocks or whatever. The world’s full of way more interesting mysteries than that.”

“Hm.” He sat there for a second, and then reached out and closed the news article. “I guess you’re right.”

She watched him sit back, and sat up. “Hey, you wanna do something tonight?”

“Huh?”

“You know, go out somewhere. I saw this thing the other day for an escape room – you ever done one of those?”

“I haven’t. That sounds cool, but…”

“You gotta study?”

“Ahh,” he checked his phone. “Actually, Mom texted, asked if I could drop some groceries off at home tonight. I’ll probably stay for dinner.”

“Oh, okay.” Lucy Ann sat back and picked up her book again. “Sounds good.”

______________________________________________________________

Quicksilver Funeral Home & Crematory was on the southernmost tip of the New Fresno Peninsula, about a fifty minute’s drive from Dipper’s university. It was, politely, in the middle of nowhere; Dipper always smiled when he remembered the long, lazy days he spent in the forests behind his house… just as much as he’d remember the long drive to school, the friends he could never casually invite over. As remote as it was, though, his dad always liked to remind him that at least they were on the mainland.

“Oh, we’re hardly in the middle of nowhere, son. If you wanna see the middle of nowhere, take a skylift out to one of those floating islands down south. Poor saps are so remote their dead get brought to us in helicopters!”

It was, if not a convincing argument, a very illustrative one. Dipper thought of his dad’s voice as he pulled up the driveway, and a little grimace tugged his lips down. He turned off his car, glanced at the groceries on the seat next to him, and sighed.

Then he sat up, opened the door, and got out. Picking up the groceries, he made his way to the side entrance and rang the doorbell. There was a muffled, “I got it,” and footsteps up to the door.

It unlatched, swung open, and revealed his sister in the doorway. Mallory nodded at him.

“Hey,” she said, and stepped aside to let him in. He smiled at her.

“Hey, Mal. Got the groceries!”

“I see that. Need a hand?”

“No, I got it, thanks.” He headed down the hallway into the kitchen. “Hey, Mom! That smells great!”

“Dipper!” His Mom looked up from a pot of bubbling soup; her face creased into a smile, and she gave him a big hug. “It’s so great to see you, honey!”

“It’s great to see you too – oh, watch out, eggs!” He put the bags on the counter before hugging back. “How’ve you been? Where’s Dad?”

“He’s in the living room with Mallory – I can put all this away if you wanna see him!”

“You sure?”

“Of course! He’ll be delighted to see you!”

The living room was just around the corner; Dipper hesitated for a second before walking in.

“Hey, Dad.”

His Dad was sitting back in his favourite green armchair, and for a second Dipper could just pretend he’d fallen asleep in it as he loved to do, and him and Mallory were two giggling kids about to balance as many toys as they could on his body until he finally woke up, made a show of stretching and going, “Whoa, what’s all this!” as they both shrieked with laughter. He could see it so clearly… but then there was the bed behind him, hastily dragged down the stairs into the living room, and the hospital wheelchair at the foot of it. His Dad’s eyes were closed, but they were struggling to open; his head fell to the side, and he gave a lopsided smile, a weak wave. Dipper waved back, and then he moved in closer to give him a hug.

“It’s good to see you.” He said, squeezing carefully, and then standing up. Mallory put a hand on his shoulder; he glanced at her. “How’s he… I-I mean, how’re you doing, Dad?”

There was a pause, and then his hand flopped very deliberately to the side, as if to say, “How do you think?” His eyebrow quirked up too, and Dipper gave a little laugh.

“Yeah, hah, makes, makes sense.”

“We’ve been doing some exercises,” Mallory said; she turned on the TV, picked up a foam ball, and gently opened their Dad’s hand to place it in. “Do you know there’s one where you’re supposed to crumple up a sheet of paper? That’s been my favourite.”

“Hah, really?” He looked towards the bin, which was overflowing with tightly-crumpled balls of notepaper. “Hey, he’s doing really well on that one!”

Mallory didn’t respond; she shrugged obliquely, and then crushed a sheet of paper between her hands. His smile turned awkward.

“Oh, uh…” He rubbed his neck. “So! What are we watching?”

Dinner was ready soon. Dipper helped his Dad into the wheelchair, and Mallory guided him into the dining room. Their Mom had set out plates; they all took a seat, Mallory next to her Dad. Dipper watched him pick up a spoon with a shaking hand and dip it into the soup.

“So how’re classes going, honey?”

“Huh?” Dipper blinked, and looked to his Mom. “Oh! Um, they’re going good… yeah, good.”

“That’s good.” She smiled. “Midterms are coming up, aren’t they?”

“Yeah!”

“Ooh, how’re you feeling about that?”

“Pretty, pretty prepared, I think!” He grinned. “And then it’ll be winter break soon! I can come back home for Christmas.”

“That’ll be great, honey! We’ve missed having you around. And you know, we could use a little help around the-”

“I’m doing the best I can.”

Mallory’s voice cut her right off. She saw them both stare at her, and narrowed her eyes.

“What? I just said I’m doing the best I can.” She glared at their Mom. “You’re talking like I’m not doing anything around here, I just wanted to say I am doing stuff, okay?”

“I didn’t say that, honey, we really appreciate-”

“I know, I’m just saying-”

“-could help take some things off your plate-”

“I was just saying-!” Mallory stopped and put up her hands. “You know what, forget I said anything.”

“Honey-”

“I said forget it, Mom.”

“But-”

“Forget it, okay? I don’t want to do this again.”

The room froze into a tense silence. Dipper glanced nervously between the two of them, and took a long drink of water. There was a grunting sound from across the table; their Dad was pointing at something.

“Dad?” Dipper blinked. “What do you-”

“He wants the salt.” Mallory rubbed her forehead. “Dad, I told you, you’re not supposed to have too much-”

“Oh, just give him the salt, dear.”

Mallory froze. She looked up at their Mom, grabbed the salt, and slammed it down on the table next to their Dad before getting up and walking away. A door shut hard down the hallway; their Mom gave Dipper a tight smile.

“Sorry, honey.” She said. “She’s not… she’s finding this all a bit hard to adjust to. But she’s really happy to see you!”

“Yeah…” Dipper looked down at the soup. He half stood up; then looked at her. “Can I…?”

“Oh, of course! She’s probably in the crematorium.”

Dipper nodded, and followed after her. There was a door by the stairs that opened into the main foyer of the funeral home; he passed by the front desk, by an empty viewing room filled with chairs, up to a door tucked away in the back with a very clear ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign. Through there was the crematorium: its concrete floors, stainless steel gurneys, and safety tape stood in stark, clinical contrast to the rest of the building, but Dipper had long since gotten used to this place. The shining metal cremation machine dominated the middle of the space, and though it wasn’t on, there was a whirring sound behind it. Dipper walked past a row of body freezers set into the wall to find Mallory.

“Uh, hey,” he said. She was standing arms crossed in front of a little glass kiln, and didn’t look up at his voice. He hung back, a nervous smile on his face. “Mal? Are you okay?”

Mallory raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Doing great.”

“Mal-”

“You want a plate?” She sifted through a little pile of things next to the kiln. “I was saving this for you – here.”

She held out a small, multicoloured glass plate. Dipper blinked as he took it from her; he held it up to the light, and marvelled at the colours splashing on the side of his hand. “Wow, this is really pretty! Is this enchanted too?”

The slight smile on Mallory’s face vanished. “No, it’s just a plate. Why would I enchant a plate?”

“Oh, I just-”

“Your necklace was a lot of work, you know. I don’t do that for every single thing I make! Sometimes I just want to make a fucking plate, okay?”

“Okay, sorry!” He watched her turn away. “Mal, I’m sorry! I didn’t- it’s really good, thank you!”

“Oh, I don’t know, you sure you don’t want me to melt it down and put an enchantment on it first?”

“No, no…” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Mal, that was really dumb of me. I really like the plate, okay? Thank you for giving it to me.”

“Hm.” She stayed like that for a second, then looked back and grinned at him. “You’re welcome, dummy. I’m glad you like it.”

He grinned back. “I do, it’s really beautiful! How’d you get all the colours like that? I’ve never seen something like this from you.”

“Huh, that? Oh, I started buying this coloured glass scrap.” She opened a drawer; in it was a box full of big and small shards of coloured glass. “You can get it in bulk for super cheap – nobody gave me a scholarship for this, so I make do.”

Another sharp remark – Dipper cringed again. “Mal?” He asked, and she started picking through the shards. “Are you… is everything okay?”

“No, obviously, everything’s not okay.” She took a look at his expression and rolled her eyes. “Look, it’s not- I’ll survive. It’s fine.”

“Mal…”

“It’s hard on us all right now, okay?” She sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that with Mom over dinner. She’s just been – just been getting on my nerves lately, you know?” She picked up a blue shard, and looked through it. “Just on and on about how I’m so good with the families, I should totally take over!”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Oh, god, yeah.”

“She even found a mortuary sciences course at my college, just tried to ‘casually’ bring it up to me the other day.” A chuckle. “You know how she acts when she thinks she’s being subtle.”

“Heh, yeah… how’s your classes going?”

“I withdrew this semester.”

“Oh… Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise.” He watched her pause, staring into the middle distance. He stepped a little closer. “You know, Mom and Dad always said they only wanted us to take over if we wanted to. I don’t think she’d want you to feel obligated.”

“Yeah, but I am obligated, aren’t I?” She glared at him. “What are they gonna do now if I leave? Mom can't run this whole place on her own.”

“They always said they’d hire-”

“Hire someone else, yeah, like they can afford that right now.” Rolling her eyes, she pushed off the counter and started pacing. “And they can’t sell the place either – where’s Mom gonna find another job? No, unless Dad gets better fast, I’m stuck here.”

“You’re not-” Dipper struggled for words. “You don’t have to… it’s not your responsibility. They wouldn’t want you to feel like this.”

“Oh, okay then.” She stopped, and looked straight at him. “So how about I leave, and you come back home to take care of Dad. How’s that sound?”

Dipper blinked. “I…” he started, and frowned as she flashed a grin. “Hey, come on, Mal, that’s not… You’re not being fair.”

She scoffed at that, and crossed her arms.

“Mal-”

“I’m not actually asking you to do that – obviously. But it’s you or me, okay? And if it’s gonna be me, can you stop acting like I could just walk away from them?”

Dipper hesitated, and then he sighed. “You’re… you’re right. I’m sorry. That sounds really hard.”

“Thank you,” she rubbed her eyes. “Look, how about you just go back to dinner?”

“What? What about you?”

“I’ll be out in a bit, I just…” She looked back at the shards she’d taken out, picked one up, and tossed it back into the drawer. “I just need to cool off.”

“Wh… you sure? I can stay here if you-”

“It’s fine.” Glancing back at him, she managed a smile. “It’s fine, okay? I’ll be out soon.”

Dipper lingered for a second longer, and then, with a sigh, he turned and made for the door. One last glance over the shoulder showed how he left her: a small figure hunched over a desk, disappearing behind the machinery.

He opened the door, and walked away.

______________________________________________________________

“You’re back late,” Lucy Ann said as he made his way into his dorm the next morning. “I thought you were only staying for dinner?”

“Yeah… I was just, I was trying to be helpful.” He closed the door, and leaned against it for a second. “It’s just… it’s like… do you think I’m…?”

Lucy Ann watched him for a moment, her eyebrow slowly arching. “Do I think you’re what?”

“It’s… nevermind.” With a sigh, he went to his desk and tapped his magi-orb. “I’m only here to pick up some stuff for class. Are you coming?”

“Depends, what you got on?”

“Uh… public speaking’s first – shoot, my presentation’s today!”

With a cackle she hopped to her feet. “Oh, I’m definitely coming for that one!”

Dipper shook his head at her, but before he could reply, there came a knock at the door. Lucy Ann groaned.

“Shit, is that the RA?”

“I’ll see… uh, hello? Who is it?”

“Dude, it’s Darren!”

“Oh, thank the stars.” She dropped her sleeping bag. “I didn’t want to have to hide again.”

Dipper frowned as he opened the door. “Darren? What’s up?”

“Hey, dude!” Darren looked a little out of breath, but he perked up at the sight of him. “Oh, I forgot to tell you the other day – thanks for finding Flamey for me! Alex drove me over and-”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” Dipper started to close the door. “Look, I gotta get to class-”

“Oh, wait! That wasn’t what I came over for!”

“Huh?”

“I was telling my buddy Marsh about how you found her the other day – and you know, Alex’s aunt, she actually has a whole aviary, it’s amazing! She has so much room to fly around-”

“Darren…”

“Right, right! So I was telling Marsh about how crazy it was when you put all the clues together, and he was saying he could use your help!”

Lucy Ann snorted. “Congrats, on the new job, Dipper. Campus animal control.”

“I don’t-” Dipper looked from her to Darren. “I don’t know, man. What’s the problem?”

“It was something about a weird ghost in his apartment… I-I don’t remember exactly, but I said I’d give you his number and he could tell you about it!”

“A ghost?” Dipper blinked. He opened the door a little wider. “Huh… Uh, yeah, what’s his number? I gotta go… like right now, but I can call him after class! What was his name, Marsh?”

Behind them, Lucy Ann shook her head. She wanted to know what he was like without demon powers?

It turns out he wasn’t so different – he could still be such a dork.

[imthefemalemonster]

Hiii

Can u Yandere!Daemon Targaryen x reader

He kind of force her to marry him after he arrive in pentos (he didn’t marry leana) time pass and she just love him and they have lots os kids. They go to leana funeral but daemon don’t left her side, when people tried to talk to him alone he says that his wife stays. The one second that she left his side to attend one of their kids Rhaenyra came to his side and asks if he love reader and he barely look at her before saying that she’s his moon end stars (Khal Drogo vibes) ❤️❤️❤️

Hello beautiful! Of course I can, I loved the ideas and I tried to develop a bit more the start of the relationship, I hope you like it. ♡

***

⸻We'll Meet Again

Daemon Targaryen x Female!Reader (Fluff/Mature themes)

⸻ Summary: Love grows mysterious way; you soon find out when Prince Daemon Targaryen seeks your hand and even the Gods themselves wouldn't dare refuse him.

Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Dubcon, (at the beginning), Obsessed/Overprotective Daemon, Forced Marriage, Innocence Kink, Age Difference, (age not specified but reader is ~20), Fluff, Kisses, Hugs, Mention of Sex, No Use of Y/N, No beta feminism left my body when I wrote this

⸻Read on Ao3

Notes: Requested by anon, I hope you like it. ♡

There’s mention of some sex/virginity loss/first time but nothing too bad, not really smutty more fluffly with Daemon being obsessed ((manipulative)) and overprotective with you. ~

Warning for dubcon at the beginning.

Tumblr for ideas/requests: @imthefemalemonster

Smut & fluff prompts: here & here

⸻ Words: 4934

The afternoon sun hit your skin as you walked down the streets. Busy and noisy, you wandered with ease in the crowd, in the city you knew all too well. You had to meet friends at the port, the one Pentos was most known for. You had proposed to meet in the beautiful gardens close to your home, but the air of the sea suited your friends more. As you arrived near, you looked around, only finding goods, people and boats. The familiarity of the place reassured you, the smell of the water like a mother’s embrace. But as you walked down the gardens, into the city and to the port, for some time now, you had felt eyes on you, two orbits you saw too much to be a mere coincidence.

Daughter of a public figure of the city, your father made rich from the trades of spice, you were accustomed to interested men gravitating around you. But youthful as you were, or rather innocent and unbothered. You had never really thought about the next big steps in your life, you preferred living in the instant. What pleased you were long walks, books that told a hundred stories, and the little voices in the walls who recounted the tales of love and betrayal of the people of the city, of the lands, and past the sea. You listened with much care, learning about the things you would maybe never see. Seated next to your friends facing the sea, you heard songs and stories, your noses in books as you all laughed and speculated on how the other people outside the city must live. You had a few friends over there, girls you met times ago, their letters would crack under your curious fingers, drowning into the words of another world. As you listened to the story of your friend and flying lizards, which you longed to see one day, you noticed the presence back not far away from you. You couldn’t quite catch the sight for long, everytime your eyes met, the figure would disappear soon after. You had never paid much attention to it, you were used to being looked at. But something deep inside you knew that this was different. Turning your head back to your friends, you soon forgot the blonde locks and lilac stare, until the next time you meet.

It happened in the garden the second time you really paid attention to it, you won a tender smile. The third time a voice, a low, deep one who sounded both like a threat and honey, like a blade would tenderly brush your skin, each second menacing to pierce your body and see the blood flow out of it. The fourth time, you couldn’t remember, was it at the port again? Near your home? As the day passed, it felt like everyday. Everyday a shadow behind you, eyes on your figure. Hands that grazed your back, fingers brushing your neck, smiles exchanged. Curiosity got the better of you when you approached, naive as you were. The gardens were full of people, talking, laughing. Digits touched slightly as the words flowed in your ears, lips sweet against your skin. He had a name and a title you would not forget. Once again the orbs left you alone, your hands gripping the silk of your dress, lips parted as you wanted to call him back. Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Daemon had rarely held this much restraint. What he desired, he always got, whatever it cost. So when it came to you, he observed, he stalked, he learnt. You were much younger, walking around the city with an innocence to match his insolence. Your laugh was honey to his ears, your face as enchanting as the sun, your voice a bliss he could beg to hear singing, as you did once in your home’s garden as he was resting near. The first time he noticed you, you never left his mind. It was similar to poison, but one he would drink day after days after day even if it consummated him to the bones. Without your knowledge, he followed you in the city, he watched your fingers turn the pages of a book, the details of your joints engraved in his mind as they moved gracefully. He observed your lips moving as you talked, laughed, called to your friends or spoke words he drowned into. Daemon desired you all over his body, and desired him all over yours. At first it was soft, discreet caresses. When he got tired of just following you around, he craved to touch. He lost his hands behind your exposed back, digits tracing your spine. He observed you shiver at the touch, trying to meet the eyes of the culprit of these unwanted caresses. Daemon would smile at your visible distress mixed with curiosity, his arousal growing stronger with each touch. He grazed your neck, arms, hands. He wanted to possess you whole.

When he noticed people, especially men talking to you, he would fixate on them until they couldn’t hold his lilac stare anymore and they would leave. Rejoicing in the newfound power he had, as much as his reputation gave him, he observed you walking alone, shadowing you like he was your dark reflection caused by the sun. After you really interacted for the first time, to his delight, exchanging names and smiles, he was even more present at your sides. He never thought you really appreciated it, he never cared, in time you would, he would make you love it. So you walked together, talked all afternoons long, spend evenings together. He would randomly show up at your door, surprised but touched by the attention, you obliged him. When he walked all the way to you, he would grab your wrists, his figure broad and impressive, you felt small, a kitten held in gigantic arms. You couldn’t quite tell if you appreciated it, all the attention, all the time, but your life had become his. Everytime he met you eyes, Daemon used all his strength, everything he didn’t know the Gods could give him not to press you onto him and devour you whole like he dreamed for weeks now.

That night, Daemon had invited you to a sort of feast organized nearby. You weren’t sure what was celebrated, but you accepted as you loved to hang out. Maybe you could find your friends there, some you hadn’t seen for some time now since you spent most of your time with Daemon now. You felt some relief at the idea, the city was noisy with music and voices, busy with lights and fire at every corner, you rejoiced at the atmosphere. When you stepped out of your house, he was already here. The Rogue Prince, standing fiercely, eyes stripping you from your thin dress as he looked at you from toes to head.

“You smell really nice.”, he whispered as he stalked toward you, hands resting on your waist as his head leaned into your neck.

The contacts had become so much more intimate the past few days. You only thought it was gentle and attentionate. Sometimes you couldn’t quite decipher the smirk on his lips as he looked at you. To you it was kindness, to him it was hunger. He reached for your hands, thumbs caressing the skin, his digits trapping your own as he guided you toward the exit, down the streets, into a grand and beautiful house decorated with magnificent mosaics. There he placed his arm around your waist, locking you against him. Inside, you walked like a couple you were not, to you, not to him.

Daemon had hoped you would stick with him, now that you had learned the lesson. Maybe he had not worked hard enough, or maybe you were really this naive. When you immediately left his arms, the heat of your body leaving with you, he groaned in discontentment. Stalking behind you as you wandered and talked to people you knew, he observed each of the faces, each he would remember so they never talked to you again. His digits found your neck, your arms, your back, but everytime you escaped his control. You went around laughing, sometimes turning back to smile at him and invite him near. He drowned in these moments you would look at him, and him only. That all of you were focused on him. He could grab you, lift you above the crowd and claim you as his. After hours of talking and laughing, music buzzing in your ears, your feet and body were exhausted. You were still in the middle of everyone, you sighed ready to leave as you felt a harsh grip on your waist. You recognized the touch immediately, Daemon’s chest pressing in your back, his lips brushing the overheated skin of your neck.

“Give me your attention.”

The words left his mouth so fast, cold as ice, it felt more like an order than an invitation.

“I’m sorry?”, you mumbled, eyes filled with confusion.

“I haven’t received any.”

You choked on the words. His voice wasn’t low and soft like it used to. It was guttural and scary, like it was coming from a part deep inside him you never wanted to meet with. You heard the stories, you would rather not finish impaled on a sword or fed to a dragon.

“All night.”, he continued, spinning you around with no care for your tired body, his eyes staring into yours, intimidating.

“All-”, you paused, uncertain of his intentions, “I’ve been with you all night.”

He scoffed at the words, a hand on your neck, squeezing it slightly. Smirk on his lips, more vile than kind. He pressed his broad body onto yours, you felt crushed, by him, and by all the people around you.

“You have not paid attention to me all night”, he repeated, the sentence like a blade ripping your throat open, “Apart from glancing at me and laughing with other… men.”

The last word was accentuated like an insult. You swallowed, his thumb pressing on your neck as he felt it. You felt both angry and sorry. Maybe you could indulge in more time with him, but you already did everyday. You sighed. One last time then.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes sparkled at the words, lips moving into a soft smile. You had found the right words, you thought. He nodded, a hand cupping your cheek. A gentle and reassuring move, to you. To him, he could mold you to every of his desires because you were so easy to frighten.

“It’s all fine.”

You smiled as he lowered his hand to your wrist, brushing it gently, digits closing around it as his body started to move back, taking you with him

“You can give me this attention now, I promise to use it well”, he murmured against your face, flushed at the hot air hitting your skin. “How about we finish the night elsewhere?”

Unsure what the words meant, you simply nodded, letting him guide you outside. You walked past people and houses, down the street to the port, where you loved to rest during the day. It was dark, deep in the night as you sat facing the sea. You felt reassured, it was just another gentle evening at his side, maybe he had gotten overwhelmed by the people, and you wanted to reassure him that your friendship was still intact. Legs slightly brushing one another, he fixed at you. His face had changed, you couldn’t quite decipher it. He was smiling, but it didn’t feel gentle. You wanted to ask a thousand questions.

Daemon was lost in his thoughts. He was so close to both his goal and climax. Your naive, flushed face turned toward him, he could have lost it in seconds. He dreamed of your scent and naked body, to have you scream his name on the very floor. But he doubted you had the same idea in mind even if he wished you did. Forcing the act was considered but he didn’t go with it, he would rather avoid a diplomatic incident. He was surprised by his own restraint. He would win this war with words and touches, like he did for weeks now. You would yield.

“I’ve never felt stronger than when you’re with me.”

Your eyes widened at the words, knowing him, it meant much. Blushing you lowered your head to your hands, shyly intertwining your fingers as they danced on your dress.

“How strong?”, you laughed. He focused on your hands, his eyes lost on the motions as he dreamed of having them all over his scared body.

“Give me your hand and I’ll show you.”

You obeyed, raising a hand toward him, unsure what he would do with it. He softly grabbed it with his own, he paused for a second, observing every detail on your beautiful skin, before softly kissing the top of it. You shivered at the touch, cheeks red and eyes escaping the intimate sight.

“Daemon-”, you chuckled. You had heard and read a thousand love stories. This is how they started and you smiled at the nice intention. You tried to withdraw your hand, ready to ask him to take you home, your tired body starting to hurt. But when you moved your arm, he only squeezed your hand harder, pulling it to him. You frowned your eyebrows, raising your head to look at him, confused. Everything sane had left him, his eyes were as dark as the night and as savage as the sea.

“You are my love.”

Waves crashed near you. You wished they would have swallowed you whole with the words just spoken. You had understood Daemon’s intentions a while ago, you weren't a stranger to the flattering of men. But you had never shown interest back, you thought. And if you ever did, you wished for it to take the time it needed, the one you needed. Maybe love wasn’t the word yet, you had sincere feelings for the man, gratitude to his kindness and attention.

“I don’t-”

You couldn’t speak. What could be said?

“You don’t love me?”

Eyes closed, your hand still trapped in his, you felt it tense, squeezing your harder. It felt like a warning, not like concern.

“I-”, you searched for the right words again, “That’s not what I mean no. I truly appreciate you…”

“Then what?”, his eyes pierced right through your heart, it bled like rain falling from the saddened skies.

“I’m not- I’m not ready Daemon”, you spoke, voice trembling.

“You don’t need to be”, he rasped, “You never truly are.”

You shook your head at the words, it didn’t make sense.

“I don’t want it.”

His digits dug in your palm, his breaths heavy. You wondered if it was going to be the sword or the dragon that would end you.

“You don’t”, he whispered, he had not moved a bit, like he was turned into a statue, his face similar to stone, “Then what of the touches? The smiles? The laughs? The time spent together?”

“Simple kindness!”. You let go of the words, wondering if you would regret them, “You were nice, and I appreciated it, so I was nice too. That’s it.”

“But that’s not love to you?”, he scoffed, “Oh you truly are that innocent.”

“I never said it wasn’t, I only said I didn’t know yet.”, you whined, “Maybe with more time.”

“I don’t want more time.”, Daemon grumbled, “I know what I want.”

You raised your eyes to meet his stare, as time had passed, you had both moved closer, you got lost in his eyes and him in yours.

"I want you.”

Your heart stopped beating, it felt like void, no noise was to be heard but the whispers of the sea. May she deliver you. Silence loomed for minutes.

“B-but my family”, it was merely an excuse, you didn’t really care. You only wanted to get out of here, out of his manipulative grasp.

“They didn’t deserve you.” His thumb brushed your hand softly, he almost had you. “I’ll treat you well. I’ll love you. I already do.”

Eyes tearing up you closed your eyes, focusing on your heart racing again. Your digits intertwined like real lovers.

“Love…”, he whispered. The words had you tensing. It felt good, yet menacing. Did you even have a choice? Accept and it was done, but refuse? It would probably be worse. You heard the stories, you knew the stories. You felt his presence lean closer to you, his nose brushing yours.

“F-fine.” You gave up. Maybe you only needed time. He drank your words like the best wine, his smile malicious, victorious.

Thoughts and prayers were taken away from you like air in your lungs when his hand grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your lips to his. The distance was closed in a wet contact, much more gentle and loving than you imagined. And to the first kiss followed the first night.

Your father was quick to accept. You never really thought about his opinion on it, but considering his status there was nothing more he could wish than having you bed a Prince. You felt a sort of abandon when they agreed so fast. To be tossed around wasn’t your greatest joy. You still had to process the last night and the gravity of Daemon words. Your father wasn’t necessarily overjoyed, everything was business to him. If the business was good, then he rolled with it. Within the day it was done. Now Daemon didn’t have any sort of restraint concerning you anymore. He stayed at your house and came when he wanted. At first it was a grand annoyance to you, you felt like liberties had been taken away. But as the days passed, the word ‘husband’ slinging on your tongue started to please you, as you were met with ‘wife’, even if you preferred ‘my love’. You couldn’t quite explain it, something felt right.

You sensed something different in Daemon, like his chains had been taken off. He was still terribly overprotective, especially after claiming before all as his wife and to his words, ‘his greatest love’. You experienced everything of a wife, and more to the fact that you were the Rogue Prince’s. Now Daemon was not shy to threaten anyone who would look down on you or wouldn’t treat you well enough to his taste. The men walked toward you eyes on the floor, the women envied you as you told the thousand kind attentions Daemon had toward you everyday. He wanted you both to experience everything of love and more.

The first time was… strange. You remember his own excitement and your confusion. You had… read things. But you still rested there on the bed, inexperienced and exposed to his expert hands. Freezing and tense, your heart beat to a never ending race. When he crawled above you, you braced yourself for the pain you have been told about. But to your great surprise, you were drowned in praises and kisses, exchanging smiles and laughs. You remember the feeling, it was painful, but it was accompanied by your loving husband's willing hands and mouth. For the few seconds of pain you had, he granted you hours of pleasure. And it never ended, each night back at it. You kissed and kissed, whispering words, your bodies enlaced, full of him as he melted into your tender embrace, worshiping your body like the Gods.

The first kick happened at night. You couldn’t sleep well as the month went by and your belly grew larger. When you felt it move your eyes widened. It didn’t hurt, it just felt weird to feel the little babe growing inside you manifesting itself. Smiling, you brushed your skin hoping it felt it too. You leaned closer to Daemon, fingers tapping his chest. Sleeping was much easier for him as he was glued to your body, legs intertwined, arm under your head and breath heavy against your sensitive skin. He emerged when you kept pinching his cheek, trying to get his attention. He turned to you, face half awake, worry in his eyes. Since the start of your pregnancy he had been more than overprotective. You struggled to thought it was possible. But he followed you everywhere, never leaving you alone. He ensured you always had maidens around in case anything happened. You took naps together, bathed together. He spend hours head resting next to your growing belly, peppering kisses all over it. He whispered soft and loving words to the babe. You watched him, brushing his hair while he felt asleep on your chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?”, he spoke, sitting up, his hand brushing your shoulders, thumb circling the skin in a reassuring manner.

You smiled at him, gently guiding his hand toward your baby bump.

“It keeps moving”, you mumbled, falsely vexed as you closed your eyes to melt into his touch. His digits grazing the skin, slowly tracing your rounded belly. He laid back on the bed, face next to yours as you exchanged loving kisses, the baby’s kicks reminding you of its presence. “They are going to love you.”

“They?”

“I want many of them.”, you smiled against his lips. He laughed into your mouth as he planted kisses on it.

Entering into labor was probably the scariest thing that happened to you. You had heard much about giving birth, but all the words Daemon would whisper in your ears couldn’t calm you down when the first contractions happened. It felt like tearing your body apart. You groaned and used words nobody thought could come out of your mouth. You ripped the fabric open in your hand, cried to whoever would hear you. As always, Daemon was at your side. You screamed and begged him to never leave you. He promised it and he never left you. The only time you allowed him to was when he stood up fiercely, your son in his arms as he cradled it, walking back to you. Dropping the little whining babe in your arms, he sat next to you, brushing the sweat off your face. He laid next to you, arms over your body and the little one. I love you. The sun set and the moon rose, the years passed and he was here for your second son, and still here for your little girl.

“I’m not leaving your side.”

Daemon looked after your two little boys like the most precious things he had. They looked very much like him. Fearless, brave, insolent. They ran around the house, escaping your sermons when Daemon laughed them off. They looked up to him with such admiration, he walked them to the port, trained them with the sword, and rode Caraxes with them. He had all eyes on your two little Princes. He praised them, kissed them, hugged them, loved them more than you could ever hope. You watched them grow in his arms. After their birth, waiting for your third child who happened to be a girl you wondered if he would treat her any different. Worries bubbled in your belly as she grew. She was very much like him too, which Daemon adored. He cherished her with everything he had, he taught your boys to love her as much. Barely walking, held between her older brothers, she walked with them to the port, into the gardens, her eyes sparkling like her father, fire into her veins. The girl was very talkative, even if her babbling didn’t make sense to others, Daemon listened to it for hours as she sat on the bed with her small hand moving in the air. He was so attentive, so focused, he answered back and their connection grew stronger each day.

“You were right here all along.”, you whispered.

Daemon raised an eyebrow at the words, unsure of what they meant. You were both laying in the grass, the afternoon sun cradling you both as your children were running around amongst the flowers in the garden. You heard their little yells and laughs as they were chasing butterflies under Daemon’s attentive gaze.

“You do love me.”

“You thought I lied?”, he murmured. There was no anger in his voice, but you could decipher a hint of sadness.

“No”, you reassured, cupping his cheek gently as you smiled at him, “But I like that it showed through the years.”, you paused, “By other means than grabbing my hand and kissing it.”

A shy laugh left him as he kissed your temple. You felt a small presence at your side as you turned, meeting with your lovely daughter, still struggling to hold onto her feet.

“Love you”, she babbled, resting her chin on your shoulders. You pinched her round cheeks and she laughed, head wiggling to escape your teasing touches.

“And me?”, pouted Daemon, falsely looking annoyed. The little girl raised her eyes to meet his, their lilac orbits clashing. There was as much insolence in her as there was in him, he loved and encouraged it each day.

“Love you too.”, she finally spoke, tongue escaping her tiny lips in defiance. A smile tore through Daemon’s face as he scoffed, twiddling the mess of her hair.

Leaving Pentos for the first time in your life was a huge step forward for you, you only wished it wasn’t because a close friend passed away. For years you exchanged letters with Laena, she was sweet and caring, strong and loved. Daemon was obviously saddened at the news, he apprehended going back there with you and the children. Having you around all the people, some he hated, made him only grow more annoyed and anxious as you embarked for the Driftmark. He hid it but after years together you knew how to interpret each of his moods.

“Never, ever, leave my side”, he ordered before you arrived.

“Didn’t we promise that to each other?”

He smirked at your answer, you had learnt your lesson well years ago. None of you was leaving each other's sides. Never.

As you met with more and more people, family and distant friends, you were asked everywhere. Faces unknown to you, gripping at your children as you held them onto you. You smiled and pretended, but Daemon wasn’t. Apart from his close family, which were his brother, sister and niece, and a few selected friends, he was cold to everyone else, especially those who looked down upon you. You were a woman of a distant land, some treated you like an exotic good to be handled and looked at. You greeted people with politeness, speaking a few words of your land. You felt your husband's grip tighten around your waist. Digits intertwined with his, you tried to reassure him, soft smile on your lips.

During the day, Daemon was asked more than once. Everytime the men looked at you with nonchalance as you accompanied him. He walked fiercely at your side, holding you like his most loved and precious prize. But you were much more to him than that. Anyone who dared to ask you to leave you meet with the famous Dark Sister, and probably regret it.

“She stays with me.”, he husked everytime the men wanted you to leave him. Nobody dared to contest the Rogue Prince’s decision.

Gentle smile on your face, you would rather avoid a slaughter. Each time Daemon started to threaten the people that treated you too badly to his taste, you would brush his face, his shoulders, desperately trying to soothe him before he lost it. Still you were reassured he never wanted you to leave his side, this new land was making you so anxious, looking after your kids as they ran away with others, scared to lose everything you had built for years.

Later that day, your little girl couldn’t stop pulling on your dress, whining that she wanted to go and see the pets, as she called the dragons. You had seen them too, beautiful, impressive, you wanted to take her closer to them, but Daemon was lost in an important conversation. Softly you whispered to him, his eyes traveled to you and his daughter as you pointed to them. For a second he hesitated, squeezing your hand harder, but he couldn’t refuse anything his children asked. He nodded, worry in his eyes as he watched you both walk away from him, already missing your presence. His eyes never left you, smirk on his lips as his boys jumped, hands in the air to get the wyrms’ attention. He heard their laughs and yells when the impressive dragons moved around, observing your figure, bent over to hold your little girl.

“They are beautiful, Uncle.”

Daemon recognized the voice, nodding at the words. Rhaenyra moved to his side, her magnificent eyes staring in your direction.

“They are”, he murmured, eyes still fixated on you and your children, a hand on the hilt of his blade, the other empty, missing your loving warmth.

“You love her do you?”, she questioned, asking like she knew the answer.

“I love them”, Daemon corrected, smirking, “Our relationship is the most important thing in my life.”

He paused for a second, eyes closed. He hoped the wind could carry his words across the lands and seas.

“I am but a starless sky without her. Empty. Lost. Each time they shine it reminds me of her laugh, her smile, her warmth. She'll always be the spark to my void.”

[alouiadina]

Sad Clegan au part 3

So, this one is where the similarities to brokeback mountain come in.

It starts with Gale and Marge's wedding. John, of course, is best man, and Josephine is his date. Gale is happy that he's marrying Marge. She was his first friend and his only friend until John came along. He makes sure to include that in his vows. John's best man's speech talks about how most people know to him getting his nickname, not knowing that Gale is secretly Buck from Manitowoc. He details what he labels as Gale's obsession with Marge's smell, always smelling the letters she sent, saying it made him jealous.

The night goes well. Before Gale and Marge go up to their room, John pulls them aside so that they're hidden, and kisses him on the mouth. Gale can tell he's drunk.

"It should've been you and me gettin' married, Buck." His words are slurred together as he spoke, then he slumps into Gale's arms, head tucked into Gales neck. Gale finds Josephine and helps her stuff John into his car, then watching as Josephine drives them off. As much as it hurts Gale to think this, he hopes that the two of them get married.

A year passes, and it's 1946. John and Gale keep in touch, mostly through letters and the occasional phone call. He isn't surprised when the letter for his and Josephine's wedding, asking Gale to be his best man. It goes similarly to Gale's own wedding, except Gale is telling how much he hated getting called Buck at first, then soon accepting it as his name, as everyone now called him that, aside from his darling Marge, and now John has someone to only call him John, never Bucky through Josephine.

It ends the almost the same. The words were less slurred together and John was less drunk. He pulls Gale off to the side, hidden from prying eyes. He kisses Gale on the mouth.

"It should've been me and you getting married, Buck."

Then it's back to letters and phone calls. They have the occasional lunch or dinner or a few nights over with the wife to see each other. But that's it. Gale's there when his sister's get married, and when John's daughters are born.

Then Gale's mother passes. His dad had died before he was married, but he didn't care, but this... Gale calls John to invite him, Josephine, and the kids to her funeral. Just John comes. Josephine Katy was still basically an infant, and she didn't feel like it would be respectful to bring a baby.

The funeral happens, and then it's time to clean the farm. It hadn't been a farm, not for about a year. All the animals passed, and the dirt wouldn't grow anymore. But that didn't really matter. The house was paid for, and despite his father's tendencies to gamble, his mother had enough money to sustain herself for a while now.

When Marge asks if she could help with some of the cleaning, he tells her no, that it was his thing to do. When John asks him to help, he accepts. He tells John to meet him out there.

Gale gets there first, going to the barn, where John finds him. They end up having sex there, for the first time in years, and it's better than Gale remembers. Not long after that, they get into a routine. It's almost domestic. Gale tells Marge that he's staying there while he cleans the house, telling her that he needs to say goodbye, which he does.

Gale and John fall into a routine of cleaning and fucking and pretending that the wedding bands on their fingers were fore each other, and not for the women they have waiting for them at their respective homes. There are a couple close calls in the two weeks that they're there when Marge comes over to check on Gale, make sure he's eating. John hides upstairs the times that they happen.

While they're cleaning, Gale finds a file box with a letter from his mom taped on top. The letter explains that inside are letters from John that she intercepted. She explained that she did it, even though it pained her, to protect Gale. The brother/sister of hers that was in a homosexual relationship with another man/woman was caught because of a letter, so she intercepted them because she didn't want the same thing that happened to them to happen to her boy. He opens the box, and sure enough, inside were presumably every single letter John ever wrote to Gale.

When the house is clean, Gale decides that he doesn't want to sell, but he doesn't tell Marge. He tells John this, making John promise that whenever he can get away from work, Josephine, and the kids, call, so that Gale can be sure he can do the same, so that they can meet here.

This becomes a part of their routine. A couple of letters, a couple of calls, and a couple of him and Marge visits to Virginia, where John moved some time ago. Sprinkled in-between those visits, where John and Gale visits to the old Cleven farm. They always started in the barn, even though they both knew they were getting to hold for hay sex. Then they'd go inside, clean off, eat, sometimes they'd talk about things they couldn't talk about with their wives. Sometimes they'd sit on their couch and watch their tv, and fall asleep, and other times they'd go up their stairs, go to their bed, and tire themselves out.

The first time they did this, John painted a beautiful picture with his words, saying how it was their wedding, which is why they started in the barn, it being the only private place. He insisted carrying Gale inside bridal style, kissing him lovingly on the mouth as he did so. Then after dinner, he took Gale upstairs, and had sex with him, telling Gale that in short time, the two of them will have a couple of their kids running around. And Gale wanted that. Wanted to have a life with John he couldn't have. The life that Josephine was getting to have.

They're doing this in 1953, when Marge is going out to see her parents. It's day four, and the final day of John and Gale's farm excursions. He had forgotten something back at his and Marge's house, and that day was when he and John decided to go get it. When they enter the house, the phone is ringing. Gale answers the phone. It's his mother in law.

"Gale, honey," Her voice sounds strained, as if she's been crying. "It's Marge."

As soon as she tells him he drops the phone.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

Guilt over meeting John. Guilt over lying to Marge over how he and John met. Guilt over starting a relationship with him not only once, but three separate times. Guilt over breaking the promise to loving her and only her for the rest of their days, for failing to be faithful, allowing himself to lay in the position she had laid for him and let another man....

He felt John's arms around him and he pulled away like he'd been shocked. He starts crying and yelling. Yelling about how Marge is dead, and the guilt, and how he never wanted to see John again. The look on John's face after Gale stopped made him want to back track, but he didn't. He was still angry. At himself and at John. John leaves without a word.

He hoped to see John at Marge's funeral, but he didn't. Josephine and their kids, Annie and Katy came to the funeral, but he didn't. Josephine tells him that John thought he wasn't welcome, and that he hopes that Gale makes contact soon.

Gale doesn't make contact until two years later, in 1955. He's getting remarried. He doesn't ask John to be his best man, but he asks if he'd come, with Josephine, Annie, and Katy. They came. He hoped that it would end the same way the other two did, but it didn't. John just stared longingly from afar. No more heavy petting, even when drunk, he seemed like he was restraining himself.

They stayed a little bit after the wedding, the couple of days before he and Esther went on their honeymoon. Josephine and Esther got along swimmingly, and Gale hoped it meant that they'd spend more time together.

And they did.

A couple times a year, they'd meet up. John eventually got back to the "heavy petting" and Josephine had the pleasure of explaining their relationship together. Though, John's actions seemed to be an act, and he later learns from Josephine to be true.

"I'm so glad that you two had made up from whatever fight you had." She said. "He seemed so sad afterwards. He said it was his fault, so I told him to apologize."

A few months after that, at their next Cleven-Egan dinner, Gale finally talks to John.

"I'm sorry." He says. "I didn't mean what I said. I was just angry and said. It was never your fault."

"This coming April." John states, confusing Gale. "I'm free this coming April." He clarifies.

Gale nods, understanding. Happy.

April 16, 1961.

It was a sunny day.

Last week, John called to say he would be coming in at the end of April.

The phone rang. It was Josephine.

"Gale," She sounded just like his old mother in law. "It's John."

[twistedtummies2]

Top 6 Edgar Allan "Poe-ms"

In my previous list for Halloween-time, I discussed my favorite short stories by the great Edgar Allan Poe: my all-time favorite author. Poe’s work with short stories was vast and varied, covering all sorts of genres; he wrote plenty of horror tales, of course, but also works of humor and simple mystery. But of course, these were not the extent of his output: Poe was also a gifted “Poe-t.” And as we all know, “Poe’s Poems Pwn Posers.” (Bravo if you got that reference.) But seriously, Edgar Allan “Poe-try” (I’m sorry, these are much too easy) was rarer than his narrative output, but no less intriguing. His poems, like his stories, ranged in length, style, and tone, from dark and eerie, to multiple kinds of romance, both tragic and surprisingly heartfelt. Some of them even mingled elements of tone together, making for particularly unique pieces in the annals of literature. I figured that it was best to give his poems a separate, albeit shorter, spotlight from the short stories he wrote. So, without further ado, here are my Top 6 Edgar Allan “Poe-ms.”

Also, I promise that’s the last Poe and poetry pun I make. Intentionally. XD

6. The Haunted Palace.

This is one of two poems on the list that was initially written on its own terms, but then later - interestingly - was incorporated into one of his short stories. “The Haunted Palace” appears in the short story “Fall of the House of Usher,” where it serves an allegorical purpose, as the poem is a (none-too-subtle) analogy to the exact happenings in the story up to that point. Taking it out of context from the story, however, it’s still a very powerful and, as its title indicates, haunting piece of poetry. The poem tells the story of a beautiful palace, fairy-tale like, which was once a radiant and happy place…then goes on to describe the decline of this once gilded hall, as it falls to ruin, haunted by the ghosts of its fabled past - perhaps literally, perhaps metaphorically, perhaps even both. Many of Poe’s pieces reflected upon time, mortality, and the idea of something once beautiful being corrupted by both; a sort of constant theme of “innocence lost” permeates, honestly, almost every single poem on this very list. It seemed to be an idea that haunted Poe himself: perhaps in his own mind’s palace, he forever felt himself haunted by the idea that time marches on, and all good things must come to an end.

5. The Bells.

“The Bells” is one of Poe’s more…ambiguous poems. It’s a little harder to tell what it means, if it even means anything specific. Told over the course of four separate verses, this poem describes different kinds of bells, and the emotions they seem to instill. It starts off cheerily enough with silver bells, describing imagery and emotions that frankly sound like something of a Christmas song. It then moves on to wedding bells, which are equally happy, but somewhat more solemn in nature. Then things take a very sharp and horrific turn, as the poem describes next brazen alarm bells, which fill one’s soul with terror and dread…and finally, as you may perhaps expect, “moaning and groaning” funeral bells, signifying the end of a life and all that comes with that idea. It’s not clear if this progression is meant, like the Haunted Palace, to represent the passage of time, or if it’s simply a poem that uses the bells as an analogy for all kinds of different statuses in life: how the same kind of sound and item can mean so many different things, both good and bad, to so many people. This is one of several poems on this list written very, VERY late in Poe’s life, and - like two others still to come - it was not actually published till after his death. Perhaps it was Poe’s way of reflecting on the different turns his life had taken over the years…and the fear he had for his soon-to-be-short-lived future.

4. The Conqueror Worm.

Just like “The Haunted Palace,” this poem was first published separately as its own individual piece, but was later incorporated into one of Poe’s stories. Namely, it was made into part of the tale “Ligeia;” in that story, the titular character writes the poem as a way of expressing her own horror at her terminal state, as she is dying slowly from tuberculosis - a disease which ravaged Poe’s life at practically every turn. The poem is probably one of the most unsettling of the writer’s entire life (and given all the others on this list, that’s saying a lot). It tells the story of an audience of angels, watching a pantomime show, in which a collection of clowns fruitlessly try to capture a wayward phantom. The phantom escapes, and without warning, a hideous beast - a blood red creature described as “the Conqueror Worm” - rises up from nowhere, and devours the performers. Once all of them have been eaten, the pantomime comes to a close, while the angels weep. The titular Conqueror Worm is meant to be an allegory for tuberculosis in Ligeia’s story, but in its own universe, the Worm is actually meant to represent death, in general. The poem is one of the most harrowing and disturbingly frenzied in Poe’s collection, as it acts as a parable for life itself: a mad race that has seemingly no purpose, and ends in something unspeakably nasty. It’s a cynical and deeply troubling piece of work, but that’s what makes it so intriguing, like so many other dark poems by the author. While the Worm in the poem itself is purely an allegorical creation, and it’s likely that Poe’s mental image was closer to a “Wyrm” of mythology or fantasy, the kinds of images illustrators since have come up with for the idea of a huge red worm that devours everything in its path has led to some really nasty and yet creative stuff. Perhaps Edgar Allan Poe invented “Tremors” alongside the modern detective story; who’duh thunk it? :P

3. Eldorado.

This relatively short and simple poem was one of the last works of Poe’s life. Like many of his poems and stories in his later years, it was a reflection of the desolate situation he found himself in, emotionally. The poem tells of a brave knight, who goes on a gallant quest to find the mystic, mythical city of gold, Eldorado. (Which should really be spelled “El Dorado,” but I’m going to call it “Eldorado” for the sake of literary accuracy here.) After years of searching, however, the knight grows old and weak seeking this magical fantasyland. Finally, he encounters a “Phantom Shadow” - implied to be Death itself - who offers him directions, indicating Eldorado to be Paradise. While only a few stanzas long, the sentiment of this dark little fairy-tale is powerful and strangely ambiguous: unlike others here, there is a sort of warmth to it, despite the sorrow imbued in its syllables. You can read into it as a sort of heartwarmingly bittersweet piece, or as a condemnation on the futility of life’s struggles. You can see Eldorado as something you can only imagine in your dreams, or only find peacefully in the afterlife, or even as something you will never actually locate. Short and not exactly sweet, but also not entirely bitter…however you read into it, “Eldorado” remains a poignant reminder that some fantasies just cannot be reality…at least, not in this lifetime.

2. Annabel Lee.

“Annabel Lee” might be the single saddest of all of Poe’s poetry pieces, largely because of its context. Much like “Eldorado” and “The Bells”, it was among the very last poems Poe wrote in his lifetime. In fact, like the latter, it was not even published till after his death, and was written only months before his (rather mysterious) passing. The poem tells the story of a distraught narrator, who describes how his beloved bride - Annabel Lee, whom he has loved since childhood - was so beautiful, and their love for each other so pure, that even the angels felt envious. So envious, in fact, that they killed her. Now, the Narrator makes frequent visits to her grave, and sleeps there in her tomb, near a kingdom by the sea. The poem seems to be a metaphor for the emotions and turmoils Poe went through after the death of his own wife, Virginia: many passages seem similar to the biographical information about the couple, and Poe’s reactions to her tragic departure. However, others have been offered as possible inspirations for the fictional lady described in the poem. Whoever the true Annabel Lee was, the poem’s tragic content is only made more heartbreaking when you realize this hymn of long-lost love was the last thing Poe had to give to the world, before he, himself, was felled under baffling circumstances. The verses were the inspiration for the novel “Lolita,” and there is even an English standard song called “Kingdom By the Sea,” which is a musical adaptation of the poem, along with many other song-styled renditions. As one of Poe’s last great creations, this poem has cemented his legacy perhaps above all other works he ever made before.

1. The Raven.

Almost without a doubt Poe’s most lauded piece of work, “The Raven” is his undisputed masterpiece in the world of poetry. The poem focuses on the plight of a once again unnamed narrator, who is mourning the recent loss of his wife, Lenore. He is visited one night by a mysterious Raven, which repeatedly croaks the word “Nevermore” like a parrot. As the poem goes on, the Narrator comes to believe the Raven is some supernatural being, as its croaking seems to answer every question and demand he makes. It is unclear exactly what happens to the Narrator at the end of the story, but he marks with fear that the Raven is still sitting in his room, watching over him. “And [his] soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, shall be lifted…nevermore.” While not directly autobiographical, it is probably not a coincidence that Poe wrote this poem at the exact same time his aforementeioned wife, Virginia, was effectively on her deathbed. One can easily see this as Poe already anticipating his own grief, the fears and sorrows of the storyteller matching his own harrowing circumstances in an exaggerated and Gothic manner. However you interpret things in this verse-told tale, it is, without a doubt, one of the most famous and celebrated pieces of poetry in the entire world. It is also my personal favorite poem of all time. Not just mine, either! Many famous people, such as Stan Lee, have named this as their favorite poem, and even more have done readings of it, from Christopher Lee to James Earl Jones to Vincent Price and more. There’s even a professional American football team inspired by the poem. No joke! Look it up! While the poem did not make Poe much money in his lifetime, it has, beyond all his other works, become the piece he is remembered for best.

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

To One in Paradise.

The City in the Sea.

A Dream Within a Dream.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

:)

(almost) 258 for 📖 (x2 for the other ask)

---

Buck doesn’t really know what to do. He doesn’t know how to be. This isn’t… This isn’t his strong suit. 

It might have been. He almost got there. With Abby. When her mother died, Buck had been all in. He tried to comfort her. Was there for whatever she needed, twenty-four seven. Helped with the funeral. All of it. But he supposes, now, that it wasn’t enough. 

He’s never known how to be enough. 

“Uh,” Buck mumbles now, watching Eddie. Who he doesn’t owe anything. Who isn’t expecting him to be anything at all. “Let me know if there’s any extra support I can offer to Chris, okay?”

Eddie nods. “Thanks, man.”

And that’s it.

He doesn’t see a lot more of Eddie Diaz that year. 

2020

ix.

“Okay, you ready for the study questions?” Buck asks. 

“Yes!” Chris replies confidently. 

“The Statue of Liberty was a gift to the United States from which country?” 

“France!” Chris answers. 

“Nice,” Buck praises.  “Independence Day commemorates what event?” 

“The Declaration of Independence,” Chris says. “Duh.” 

Buck smirks. “Correct. In what year did the Civil War begin?”

“Uh… 1860?”

“Not quite,” Buck says. “Close though.”

“1861!”

“Did you actually know that or was it the next easiest guess?” Buck asks skeptically.

“Well, was it right?” Chris asks cheekily. 

“It was…”

“So I knew,” Chris says. 

Buck chuckles. “You’re trouble. But, trouble that’s ready for his American history quiz.”

“Yes!” Chris cheers. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Chris is still coming to the library several times a week. Buck has gotten pretty familiar with his classes and homework. He helps Chris more than any other kid. Not because Chris necessarily needs more help or isn’t getting it elsewhere. That’s not it. Just… They kind of have a good thing going. Buck understands how Chris learns best, and he has fun helping him research. From the fourth grade equivalent of a book report, to a science project on bugs, and now, for basic American history. 

Today, they’ve got extra time. It’s over half an hour after Eddie or Carla - or occasionally Christopher’s aunt, Pepa - comes to pick him up. Most of the other kids have gone home. No one has come for Christopher.

“Hey, Chris, who is coming to get you tonight?” Buck asks as Chris cleans up his history workbook. 

“My dad,” Chris says. “After work.”

Ah, okay. Firefighter shifts can be unpredictable, Buck has learned. You don’t just clock out in the middle of an emergency because your shift is over. You wait it out. Unlike the library. Which is closing soon. 

“He’s probably just stuck at a fire, huh?” Buck asks.

“Or a car accident or medical emergency,” Chris recites dutifully. 

“Alright, well we can be patient,” Buck says. 

“Yeah,” Chris says. “Can I read some comic books instead of homework?”

“Of course you can!” Buck says. “Homework help hour is over.”

Another half hour passes, and it’s time for Buck to close up the library. Chris is the only visitor left in the building besides Jackie. Jackie is an older lady who does puzzle books on the couch of the front foyer several hours a day without fail. She comes to a lot of the library’s special programming too. The kind that isn’t for families and kids, like author talks and craft nights. She’s pretty sweet, and always heads out as soon as Buck starts closing shop. Buck gives her a little wave, and she tells him to have a good night.

“See you tomorrow, Jackie!” He calls as she leaves. 

Buck gives it ten more minutes. Watches Chris reading comics in the kids’ section. Eddie still doesn’t show up. It’s dark outside. Rainy. Buck has heard thunder at least twice. He starts to get worried. 

He logs back onto the library admin computer and looks up Eddie’s number. He calls from his personal cell. It goes to voicemail. 

“Hey, Eddie. This is Buck. Uh, the librarian. You know who I am. Anyway, the library is closing and I’ve got Chris here with me. Just hoping to get an update on your ETA. Thanks.”

A few minutes pass. Eddie doesn’t return his call. He tries Carla. She doesn’t answer either. Buck doesn’t have Pepa’s number. This isn’t good. 

“Buck,” Christopher approaches the desk quietly. “Is my dad going to be here soon? I’m hungry.”

Yeah, so is Buck. It’s definitely past dinnertime. 

“I, uh… I haven’t heard from him.” Buck admits. “But let me make one more call and see what I can do, okay? Maybe I can order us some takeout.”

“Okay,” Chris mumbles. His voice is missing its usual spark of joy. He’s scared. Buck understands why.

But Buck has one more option. He doesn’t have Chimney’s phone number, so he steps away from Christopher for privacy, and calls his sister. 

“Evan?” Maddie picks up after two rings. “I’m on break. What’s up?”

“Hey, can you send me Chimney’s number? Or, like, call him for me?”

“Sure, but he’s working. He won’t pick up for a while. Why?” 

“Well, I’m here with Eddie’s son,” Buck explains. “The library is closing and no one has come to pick him up.”

“Oh, shoot. No one came? I guess that means you haven’t heard.” 

Buck’s stomach drops. “Heard what?”

“The call Chim and Eddie’s firehouse is at… It went kind of bad… It’s on the news.”

“H-how bad?” Buck asks.

“Well…” Maddie sounds nervous. “I don’t know for sure what’s going on. But I think…” 

“What, Maddie?” Buck presses.

“One of them, not Chimney, is trapped underground. I saw Chim being extracted on the news, rescuing a kid. There was a mudslide… It could be Eddie.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Buck says. Library language be damned. 

“Yeah…”  Maddie sighs. 

“Okay, listen…” Buck groans. “I can’t get in touch with any of Christopher’s approved pickup people. There are procedures for this, and I don’t like them. So… I’m going to break the rules.”

“What do you mean?” Maddie asks.

“I’m going to take Chris to grab dinner, and then I’ll drive him to the firehouse. Can you tell Chimney to tell Eddie? And update me if anything else happens?”

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Maddie asks.

“Only if Eddie files a complaint.”

📖

“So something is wrong with my dad,” Chris says, over a McDonald’s dinner. Buck could have probably done better than this; but he had no time to prepare and it’s not like anyone has ever taught him to cook. 

“Why do you say that?” Buck asks. 

“Because if he was just running late, he would have called you,” Chris explains.

Buck takes a sip of his Coke. He doesn’t know how to handle this. This kid lost his mother not even a full year ago. He’s probably terrified of losing his dad, too. 

“Well, okay, Chris… Something is going on.”

Chris pauses, midway through reaching for a chicken nugget. 

“What is it?” Chris asks. 

“Well, you know how my sister works for 9-1-1?” Buck asks.

Chris nods. 

“She says that your dad’s firehouse responded to a pretty scary call,” Buck explains. “So he’s out there being a brave hero right now. And that might take a while.”

Chris sighs. “Okay.”

“Are you still okay to hang out with me until we hear from him?” Buck asks.

Chris nods. “Yeah. Thank you for the Happy Meal.”

“Anytime, kiddo,” Buck says. 

📖

He gets the call from Chimney an hour later. They’re in the car, driving to the fire station. 

“Hey, man. Maddie says you have Christopher?” Chimney says when Buck answers the phone.

“Yeah, I do. Uh, you’re on speaker. I’m driving to you. Chris is in the backseat. He can hear you, okay?”

“Uh, okay. Hey, Chris. How’s it going, buddy?” 

“It’s good. Buck bought me chicken nuggets,” Chris says.

“Oh, that’s great, kid,” Chim replies.

“Uh, so, h-how is Eddie?” Buck interjects.

Chim takes a moment to reply. 

“Well, listen. He’s okay. But it was a hard call. And Eddie… Your dad, Chris, he was… He was underground for longer than we would have liked. He had some trouble getting out. So he’s pretty cold and a little banged up. But he’s gonna be just fine.”

Buck feels a wave of relief.

“That’s great, Chim,” he exhales. “Thanks, man. We’re on our way. We cool to stop by the firehouse?”

“Yeah. We’re on our way back, too. I think Eddie would really like to see Chris.” 

“I want to see my dad!” Chris exclaims. 

“We’ll be there soon,” Buck promises.

[panda-writes-kpop]

A/N: Happy Halloween!! I'm spending my day in classes and then doing homework afterward 🥲 but at least I'll get to dress up and be comfortable for one of my favorite holidays of the year! 💖

TW: Physical and emotional bullying, specifics about reader's talents and background are given, kinda sad but kinda happy(?)

Acknowledgments: Inspired by the Wednesday Netflix show (yes, I've been holding this fic for a WHILE it was too perfect for Halloween), and the following works by my friends inspired the universe and its characters: @kingmaker-a Ecdysis, You're A Keeper, and Logistics of a Cat; @foolish-sparrow Felix Votum; and @sanccharine mishaps gone right series, and @neon-city-dreams for being awesome <3

Summary: Your bad relationship with your peers causes you to come face-to-face with one of the most brilliant Ravenclaws, Dami. You're afraid that she's just as judgmental as the rest, but through time, she proves to be one of the most important people in your life.

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Hey, give it back!"

You tried reasoning with the young Slytherin members, but nothing worked. Perhaps being more strict would do the job?

The eldest boy sticks his tongue out at you as he tosses your art notebook to the shorter, younger boy.

"Let's see what kind of weird things the muggle writes in here."

You wince as he starts to flip through the book. After going through a few pages, he laughs before pointing at a drawing of yours.

"Wow, you really are obsessed with that Lee Dami girl, huh? You wouldn't mind if I told her that on your behalf, right?"

The youngest boy runs into the Great Hall as the oldest laughs like a wild maniac. You nervously bite your lip before running after the shortest boy.

"Yeah, go get 'em, squirt!" The eldest boy teases as your legs fail to carry you remotely close to the young boy.

He stops at the Ravenclaw table, right where Dami is seated. You try to, as calmly as you can after running what feels like an Olympic marathon, approach the table and remain calm.

"Hey, Dami, you wanna see something neat?"

You cringe as the boy hands her the notebook. She carefully handles the notebook before looking up at the boy.

"Is this yours? Why are you handing it to me?"

"No, it's theirs." The boy points over his shoulder at you, and you do your best to calmly wave as you try to tame the wild beast that is your rapidly beating heart.

"Then why do I have it?" Dami nonchalantly asks, and a few Ravenclaws around her giggle at the boy in front of you.

His ears turn red as he huffs and slightly turns toward you. You brace for impact as he storms towards you, but you're surprised when he puts on a brave smile and harshly wraps an arm around you.

"Tell her this is one big misunderstanding and that she can look through the notebook, alright," The boy loudly says before leaning closer to you, "otherwise I'll make the rest of your stay at Hogwarts a living hell."

You nervously laugh before slapping the boy's back as friendly as you can appear to be.

"Of course she can look through it!" You say through gritted teeth, and the boy shoots you a deadly glare before you push yourself away from him. 

Dami looks at you for confirmation, and you feel your face heat up as you nod at her.

You start mentally planning your funeral as soon as Dami touches the cover. You might as well make plans to move to Africa, where no one knows who you are or what your face looks like.

Perhaps that wouldn't be the best idea since you weren't the most multilingual person, so America would be a better fit, right? You could send an owl to your parents, and they'd figure out the details for you! That'd be great because the Wizarding school there is just as good as Hogwarts, plus you'll never have to face Dami again after she ultimately rejects you because what reasonable person would want a loser like you who can't actually verbalize their feelings and instead draws them from every possible angle and OH MY GOD SHE THINKS YOU ARE A STALKER YOU NEED TO VACATE THE AREA IMMEDIATELY WHAT ARE YOU DOING-

"I-"

Dami pauses after she closes the back of the book. You say a prayer to as many deities and saints that you know as you hope that she'll reject you kindly and you can instead live out your days at Hogwarts in shame without having to move to another country.

She looks up at you before a prominent pink blush settles on her cheeks. She clears her throat before readjusting her glasses as your tormentor closes in on Dami.

"So, what did you think? That art is so stalker-ish and lame, right? You'd never want to be with someone like that, huh."

He triumphantly folds his arms as Dami's sweet, deep voice hits your ears.

"I think it's sweet."

"What?" The boy says in utter shock as his eyes are nearly about to widen past their capabilities.

"What?" You softly repeat as you feel lightheaded.

No, she was supposed to reject you and laugh at you, right? When was this a part of the horrid fantasy that you created 30 seconds ago?

More importantly, when did the room start spinning?

The last thing you remember was Dami calling out your name as you felt your body being tugged towards the floor.

~

Although your confession wasn’t anything like your dreams, it managed to land you in Dami’s favor, and now you’re on a date with the girl who you’ve been endlessly doodling in your notebook.

This moment, you decided, was one of two things.

Option A.) A cruel joke by the universe, in which one of your peers would jump out of a nearby bush with one of those muggle recording devices, and your life would return back to normalcy.

Or Option B.) You’re somehow dreaming still, and you probably need to see the headmistress because dozing off like this isn’t good for your health or your grades, and you know what your mother will say when your grades start to slip-

“Hey, are you alright? You’ve been staring off in the distance for a while…”

Dami calmly observes you as you nervously shift on the picnic blanket.

“I’m okay… I think.”

You mentally scold yourself before nervously playing with a strand of your hair. Dami sweetly laughs before placing a hand on your shoulder. That part of your body heats up, and your internal body temperature rises about 5 degrees as you feel yourself start to sweat.

What a pair the two of you were.

The brilliant scholar, the one who was a prodigy at everything she tried. The radiant Ravenclaw who managed to excel in every subject and charmed her peers and professors along the way.

And then there was you, the tortured artist. The mockery of your peers was a constant negative force in your life, and you always had your head in a sketchbook or notebook.

She was the strong sunshine, constant and unwavering, and you were a waning moon, ready to disappear to make room for something greater.

Yeah, this was definitely a pity date.

“Are you sure you’re feeling well-”

Dami’s ever-so-gentle with you, as if every last word would break your body like a glass figurine shattering when it hits the floor. You’re scared, sure, but you’re not that much of a wimp, right?

“Dami, I-” You pause to chew on your lip before gently reaching for her. “I really like you, and I’m scared of ruining this date because I think that you think that I’m a freak, just like everyone else does!”

You slap your hand over your mouth as Dami begins to rub your back. You bow your head in shame as you feel her free hand touch your extended hand.

“I don’t think you’re anything like the other kids say you are. That’s why I wanted to come out here with you. I want to find out who you truly are,” She offers you a warm smile as you dare to look up at her, “and if it makes any difference, I really like you too.”

“You do?” A sea of hopefulness floats into your voice as you tentatively smile.

“I do.”

Your eyes widen, and you let go of her hand before wrapping both arms around her. Dami looks startled for a moment before she laughs and wraps her arms around you.

Maybe this year would be different, just like your mother had said.

~

“Do you have the notes for Potions?”

“You weren’t paying attention?” Dami teasingly asks Lia before sorting through the books in her arms. “Color me surprised.”

“Don’t give me the third degree. Ryujin already did that.” Lia scoffs as Dami hands her a few sheets of paper from a book.

“Ryujin sleeps in class almost every day.”

“That’s what I said!” Lia exclaims before quickly looking at Dami’s notes. “My god, you really do take detailed notes.”

“I do my best work in class.” Dami shrugs before looking out at the courtyard. “Do you have Potions today?”

“Unfortunately, yes, but I-” Lia pauses when Dami sticks her arm out in front of both of them. “What is it?”

“Hold my things.” Dami hands her books to a skeptical Lia, who sends Dami a quizzical look until she looks out into the courtyard.

“Oh shit, that’s-”

“Uh-huh.” Dami pulls up her sleeves before grabbing her wand. “That’s why I’m going to interfere.”

“Before they hurt someone?”

“Before someone else jumps in.” Dami corrects as Lia’s eyes widen.

“Are you referring to SuA and Siyeon?”

“Who else would I be referring to?” Dami sighs before walking away. “Make sure nobody tries to jump in, alright? I need to handle this myself.”

“To prove that you’re a good girlfriend?” Lia jokes as Dami walks towards the scene in the courtyard.

“Funny, Lia.” Dami mumbles as she approaches the scene unfolding in front of her.

~

When you were younger, the teasing and bullying from your peers would bother you to no end. You’d sob in the arms of your friends and Dami every time they decided to mess with you.

Now? They were just an annoyance to you.

“Please give it back…” You hopelessly say as you watch two of your peers hold your books hostage ten feet in the air.

“And why would I do that?”

Because you’re not a total bitch?

“C’mon, don’t you have anything better to do?” Exasperated, you pull out your wand as they both chuckle.

“Oh, what are you gonna do, summon your Patronus?” One teases as the other laughs.

You bow your head in shame before putting your wand away.

“That’s what I thought, you pathetic waste of-”

“What are the two of you doing?” 

Your head snaps up as you make eye contact with Dami.

Thank goodness!

“Dami!” One of the students squeaks out before running off, and the other slowly lowers your things towards the ground.

“You’re no fun.” They say before throwing your stuff on the ground.

Your eyes widen as you quickly gather your things from the ground.

“You’re sick!” Lia yells from the side as the other student rolls their eyes.

“We were just joking around, right?” They shoot daggers at you, and you shiver under their glare.

“Ahem.” 

You pause as you hear heels click behind you.

“Headmistress BoA, I-”

“My office. Now.” She calmly says, and the student bows their head before walking away. “Oh, and if you track down your friend before I get back, I won’t make you clean out the Hippogriff cages.”

You dare to look at the student who’s walking much faster now, and you find yourself laughing as you gather your things and yourself off of the ground.

“Are you alright?” She gently asks before placing a hand on your back. “They gave you back all of your things, right?”

You swiftly look through your things before nodding.

“Thank you again, Headmistress.” You quietly say as Dami makes her way to your side. “Thanks for saving my ass… again.”

Dami wraps an arm around your shoulders to comfort you before leaning into you.

“I’d happily step in any time.”

Headmistress BoA gently smiles at the two of you before taking a step back.

“I’m glad you have someone like Dami looking out for you,” She says before waving Lia over, “and it seems that you’ve managed to charm quite a few other students as well.”

“Oh, I…” You bite your lip before staring at the ground. “I don’t think I’d call myself charming.”

“Dami would agree to disagree!” Lia teases, which causes Dami to blush, and you to laugh.

“Well, I will leave the three of you to your studies. If there’s anything I can do, please, don’t be afraid to-”

“Headmistress, you’ve already done so much for me…” You softly interrupt her before looking over to Dami. “for us. I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

~

After you and Dami were close and became ‘more than friends’, the torture that you experienced only multiplied. It went beyond verbal teasing and the occasional shove or someone stealing your notebooks.

It wouldn’t be a day at Hogwarts if you weren’t shoved into a wall and had your face shoved into your food. It got so bad that you ended up confessing to your mother, and when she confronted the Headmistress, they couldn’t find anyone who would talk about the bullying besides you.

You tried to take it on the chin, but after one particularly rough day, you broke down in tears and had enough of their teasing. You stopped reacting to their normal shenanigans, which encouraged them to go farther.

You were walking to The Great Hall while admiring the architecture. You had enjoyed your class, which was mostly because you didn’t have to use your wand all day. It wasn’t a secret that you weren’t the best spellcaster, but you could easily outbrew anyone in Potions and you knew what made the plants grow faster in Herbology. 

You were happy because you were to see Dami, and your day was always better when you saw her. In your ignorant bliss, you had failed to notice the snickering students who were holding a pot of honey above your head with their wands.

You had opened the doors to The Great Hall, and everyone in the world seemed to be looking at you when your assailants launched their attacks.

You screamed when the honey fell onto you, and the force threw you to the ground. You managed to push yourself out of the way of the falling pot before it hit the ground.

All of the students outside of the hall were laughing at you, and from what you could see, a good amount of students were laughing in the dining hall.

You immediately started crying before getting up and running away from the dining hall. You didn’t care that you left your things behind, but it didn’t matter since they were probably ruined anyway.

You didn’t stop running until you had reached a bathroom far from the living quarters and The Great Hall. You closed the door, and you fell back against the nearest wall before burying your head in your arms.

A gentle knock at the door manages to disturb your pity party.

“Leave me alone…” You weakly mumble, and you curse yourself for being so weak, just as your peers had said.

“Are you in here?” Dami asks, and you sniffle before answering.

“You should’ve started with your name.” You say before managing to let out a broken chuckle. “The door’s unlocked.”

The door creaks when it is opened, and Dami files in before shutting it.

“My God…” She mumbles before grabbing a washcloth from beside the sink.

Dami puts the stopper in the sink, and she fills the sink with water before running the washcloth under the faucet.

She offers you the washcloth, and your shaking hand reaches out for it before you stop.

“Do you mind if you-”

“No, of course not.” Dami answers before shutting the faucet off. 

She sits next to you with the washcloth in her hands.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” You softly say before lifting your head up.

Dami gently begins to rub the honey away by starting with your face. After she finishes with one side, she switches hands, and her right hands cleans your face as the other holds the clean part of your cheek.

“I’m so sorry that this happened to you…” Dami mutters as she gently strokes your cheek with her thumb. “How does this continue to happen?”

“I’m an easy target. I’m useless with my wand, I can’t fly on a broomstick, and I don’t know how to talk to people.” You exasperatedly say.

“But there’s so much that you can do. You’re brilliant with Potions and Herbology.” She compliments you before continuing on. “You’re creative, much more than I am, and you’re kind to everyone, even if they’re not kind to you back.”

“You see the good in everyone, Dami.” You lovingly look at her as she smiles.

“I see the good in you because everyone, including yourself,” She sternly says the last part, “refuses to. Someone has to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“You can, but it doesn’t hurt to rely on others.” Dami wistfully says before pulling her right hand away from your face “Let me clean the washcloth, and I’ll work on your arms, alright?”

“Okay.” You feel better as Dami stands and walks over to the sink. 

You like the quiet bliss that is between the two of you. No one may understand why the brilliant scholar loves the tortured artist, but you’re starting to get it now.

Suddenly, the door slams open and you jump before curling up into yourself. Dami looks up from the sink before a sour look settles on her face.

“Headmistress BoA…”

“What is going on here?” She sternly says before glancing at you before looking back at Dami. “Did you… were you a part of this, Ms. Lee?”

“I didn’t do-”

“She was trying to help!” You exclaim before tears fall from your eyes. “Please don’t make her go.”

“Are you sure Ms. Lee wasn’t-”

“She wouldn’t hurt me!” You yell before quickly standing up.

You try to take a step forward, but your knees wobble and you fall on the ground.

“My love-” Dami immediately drops the washcloth in the water before placing a hand on your knee. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” You shake your head before placing one of your hands on hers, “I’m alright.”

“Ah, I see what’s going on here.” A glint of mischief appears in the Headmistress’ eyes before she chuckles and smiles. “Clean up, change your clothes, and head to my office once you’re done. I’ll set dinner aside for both of you, and we can chat about finally putting an end to this mess.”

You smile at the Headmistress before looking over to Dami.

“That’d be great, Headmistress. Thank you.”

~

You grab the key from your coat pocket as you climb the stairs with Dami and Lia by your side.

“Ugh, do I have to go to Potions?” Lia complains before sighing. “I’d much rather go to Defense Against the Dark Arts again then do this shit-”

“I’d trade you.” You mumble.

“How bad was class today?”

“I made a fool of myself, as per usual.” You groan as you remember your classmates’ teasing. “Another failure I will never live down.”

“Don’t let those Slytherins bother you-”

“-They were Ravenclaws.” You correct Lia before she pauses mid-step.

“What?”

“Yeah, I know. A lot of the physical teasing comes from Slytherins and Gryffindors, but I can’t count the times I’ve been harassed by Ravenclaws.” You bite your lip before Dami sets a gentle hand on your back. “You think they’d be nicer considering I am a Ravenclaw.”

“Don’t listen to them. They’re judgemental.” Dami reassures you.

“Even you?”

“I’ve learned better from people like you.” Dami honestly says as you reach the fourth floor.

“Well, I’ve got to grab the textbook from our dorms. I’ll see you tonight for dinner,” Lia says to Dami before turning to you, “and I will have a hundred and one questions about Potions to ask you.”

“I’ll do my best to help.” You gently smile before waving Lia off as she continues to climb the stairs.

You loop arms with Dami as you lead her to a locked room, far from prying eyes.

“How was Herbology?” Dami pushes back a strand of your hair before you unlock the door.

“Professor Im says I have a lot of potential in the field. She wants me to start looking into higher level classes for next year. So, it was as per usual. What about you?”

“Potions was simplistic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, well, I-”

You open the door before gently nudging Dami.

“It’s okay, Dami, I know you’re good at it. You’re destined to be an Auror, I know.”

You mutter a soft ‘Lumos’, which sets the room alight with a soft glow.

“You’ve put up more art.” Dami notes as you set your books aside.

“What else do you think I do here?” You joke before grabbing your staple apron. “But I’m glad you noticed.”

“What are you going to work on?”

“Undecided… but maybe I just want to hang out with you.”

“Oh? Is that so?” 

You let go of Dami’s arm before grabbing her waist. She smiles before wrapping her arms around your torso.

“I-I am sorry.” Dami mutters as you pull her close.

“For what? None of this is your fault, Dami.”

“I just wish I could’ve done… more.”

“Don’t say things like that-”

“You’re planning about going back to the muggle world permanently after you’ve finished your education at Hogwarts, right?”

Your eyes widen as you let go and back away from Dami.

“Did my mom tell you that?”

“Your dad, actually.” Dami pauses for a beat before grabbing your hand. “When were you going to tell me about the fact that you’re taking muggle classes and classes here? Is bullying the reason why you’re going back to the muggle world?”

“Yeah, it is,” You mumble softly before squeezing her hand, “but I didn’t want to say anything, I know you wanted to be an Auror, you’d be brilliant and the best at it.”

“Why the muggle classes, though?”

“I’m a half-blood. It was my mom’s dream for me to go to Hogwarts, just as she did, and my dad… he’s a professor at a well-known university, so he agreed with my mother as long as I kept up with my muggle work.” You sigh before shaking your head. “Was my dad worried about me?”

“He thought you were making the wrong choice.” Dami explains.

“My dad loves you, and he wants what he thinks is best for me.”

“I want you to stay.” 

“You do?”

“Of course I do. As much as I want to be an Auror, I couldn’t imagine being there without you.” 

“That’s sweet of you to say…” You trail off. “But I don’t belong here. You know that, as do many of our peers.”

“They might not think you belong, but you’ll always belong with me.” Dami pulls you close before you rest your head on her frame. “At least think about it, my love. That’s all I can ask from you.”

“I will, dear, I promise.” You peck her cheek before grabbing a paint brush. “You can go back to the dorms and work in peace if you’d like. I’m going to play some music and-”

“-I’d much rather stay with you.”

[where-theres-smoak-2]

HOTD 2X02 Review/Thoughts (SPOILERS)

Apologies for this review coming a little late, life got a bit busy so although I watched the episode a few days ago I've only just found the time to write a review. I do think that this episode was a step up from ep 1 and overall I enjoyed it. As I say in all of my reviews, I have not read the books so all my thoughts and opinions are based solely on the show, these are just my own thoughts, interpretations and opinions and of course there are spoilers.

The Aftermath of Blood and Cheese.

When watching the opening sequence something about it seemed eerily familiar and at first I couldn't place my finger on it, then I realised that it seems really similar to 1x09 when Viserys dies, that image of all the servants being ousted from their beds and shepherded through the dark halls of the red keep in their night clothes. We also see the model of Old Valyria in both scenes as well if I remember rightly, in 1x09 we see it covered in cobwebs and then in this episode we see Aegon smashing it to pieces. Not going to lie as a history buff it did hurt me a little seeing such a priceless piece of history being smashed up like that but I also understand Aegon's grief. I do find this parallel interesting though, arguably the death of Viserys and the subsequent usurpation of the throne was what kicked the dance off so its interesting that they are drawing a parallel between that moment and this moment with Jaehaerys' death.

One little detail that was really eery was when Aemond finds that coin and holds it up to his face, over his eye. I can't help but see this as a death omen because it looked spookily liked the coins that are put over a corpses eyes when they are being given their final rites.

Another small detail I did find kind of odd throughout the episode though was how no one really used Jaehaerys' name, he is often referred to as 'the child' even by his closest family members, I think maybe the writers did this to keep reminding the audience that it was a child, an innocent, that had lost their lives, but unfortunately when it came to his own family it made the characters seem quite cold and as if they were distancing themselves from him. Other times instead of being referred to by his name it was by what he was to a particular character, Aegon refers to him as his legacy, his heir, his little son. Otto refers to him as his grandson and as a targaryen prince, Helaena calls him her boy. Interestingly I think the only person who does refer to him by his name is Criston, but I could be wrong about that. I do think this is an interesting detail they've added and it does remind of how sometimes when you lose someone you might avoid mentioning their name out of fear of the grief and pain that might follow hearing it. That could be what's happening here.

One scene that did really disgust me though was the council right after Jaehaerys' death. Just how quickly Otto started scheming and plotting and trying to use this little boy's death to his own advantage. The way that Otto and the rest just decided that it didn't matter if Rhaenyra did have a hand in it or not, they could still use it to besmirch her name and turn the people and houses/potential allies against her. I just don't understand how anyone can be so calculating that soon after their own grandchild's death.

There's also that somewhat haunting moment when Larys comes in and informs that Blood was caught at the gates and he had Jaehaerys' head in a bag, that was not an image I needed and honestly made me feel a bit sick.

Otto's suggestion of a funeral procession and making Jaehaerys into this public display was also horrifying to me. I mean some credit needs to be given to Aegon for refusing at first. But I hated the way Otto also tried to twist it into something it wasn't, trying to make it seem like it was a way of honouring Jaehaerys when really he was just using him like a piece in a chess game, as a way of undermining Rhaenyra and her claim. Like strategically I know that it is a smart move, it is a huge blow to their enemy, but morally it is so so wrong. What makes it worse it how Otto then says that Helaena and Alicent must follow behind, that their grief must also be put on display and how the king should be spared. It shows how the greens over and over again exploit their women in order to further raise the standing of their men. Aegon is to be spared but Helaena, who just went through the trauma of watching her son be brutally murdered, she isn't spared further torment.

The funeral procession itself was really heartbreaking, seeing little Jaehaerys laid out with the white flowers, he looked like he was sleeping and then you see those stitches where they had to sew his head back on and its gut-wrenching. Right away you can see how much Helaena is struggling, but then there's that moment when the cart gets stuck and all the small folk begin to crowd them. There is a moment that really broke me and that's when the first of the small folk reach out to touch Jaehaerys and Helaena immediately stands up like she wants to protect him, I wouldn't be surprised if she flashedback to blood and cheese because the last time she saw strangers surrounding her son whilst he slept was when they killed him. The crowd clearly overwhelms Helaena and its so sad seeing her wanting to get away but there isn't anywhere for her to go, you can see the cart with Jaehaerys rocking and I honestly thought his little body was going to fall off, thankfully that didn't happen. But this scene really built the tension and made you feel very stressed and claustrophobic along with Alicent and Helaena. I just hate that they were used in this way.

Rhaenyra and Daemon

Ok judge me if you will but I did find that scene with the black council where they are receiving the news about Jaehaerys a bit funny. In the sense that you've got Rhaenyra utterly confused as to why anyone would think she was responsible for Blood and Cheese whilst Daemon is trying to look innocent, Rhaenys is staring him down and the rest of the council are looking around awkwardly not wanting to say anything. Then you have that moment when Rhaenyra clocks on and also just stares him down, I don't think it was supposed to be funny yet somehow there was still a comical air to it.

So let's talk about the fight between Rhaenyra and Daemon. One thing I will say is that I am glad that I didn't get worked up when a part of this clip was released, I know alot of people where thinking it was going to be another scene like the nonsense of 1x10, I am also thankful that it wasn't and it was just a verbal altercation this time. Honestly in some ways I do think that they needed to have this fight, I think alot of what came up were resentments that they had buried for a long time centred around Viserys and the throne and past hurts.

To me it makes sense that Rhaenyra has some lingering trust issues, Daemon has caused her hurt in the past, when he stole her brother's dragon egg, when he rejected her then abandoned her in the brothel, when he gate-crashed her wedding feast, tried to talk her out of marrying Laenor and then abandoned her again, this time fleeing to Essos and leaving her to face the greens alone. So yes I can understand that despite their love for each other she still has some issues around being hurt or abandoned by him.

But I also think they both had good points throughout this argument. Daemon was clearly very hurt that Rhaenyra doesn't trust him and that she doesn't believe that he is loyal to her. Again he makes a good point when he says that he was the one who put the crown on her head himself, that he was at that moment preparing to go to Harrenhall to raise an army in her name. What was interesting to me in this moment was that Daemon's voice begins to crack, usually he is very nonchalant and, I'm trying to think of the right word, calm or casual, he acts like he isn't bothered even when he is. So its interesting to me to see that slip and actually hear his voice crack in this moment with Rhaenyra.

But Rhaenyra also makes a fair point when she confronts him about leading a war council when she laboured alone. That scene from 1x10 was so hard to watch the way she called out for him and she can hear her cries, she was going through this traumatic ordeal where she had just received the news that her father was dead and her throne usurped and then she goes into pre-term labour and has to face it alone, so I can understand how she can once again feel abandoned by Daemon in that moment. But, and I may have some disagree with me here, but I can also understand why Daemon avoided going to her in that moment. Part of it, I think, is because they both knew the moment she went into labour that early that their child wasn't going to make it, that something was very wrong. The last time Daemon saw someone struggle with a pregnancy/Labour was Laena and she died, not only did she die but she died in a way that was very traumatic for Daemon and his daughters. So to me it would make sense that he wouldn't want to be there when Rhaenyra is also struggling with a complicated labour, what if he is once again confronted with a choice between saving her or the baby by the maester like he was Laena, what if Rhaenyra dies? On top of that Daemon himself has just lost his brother and is reeling from that, as I talked about in my review of 2x01, Daemon's way of dealing with grief is to keep moving, to focus on some task, he can't be still, he needs a distraction, it would have drove him crazy to sit in that room with her and feel helpless as she delivered their stillborn daughter, so he does the only thing he can to feel useful, he makes sure dragonstone is secured and begins making plans for war to strike back at the greens who he blames for Rhaenyra being in this position. That being said that doesn't make his actions right, and they definitely weren't fair to Rhaenyra who needed him with her in that moment, but they are understandable and Daemon is human, he makes mistakes and fails at times. Also to be fair to Daemon he does go to her eventually but its too late by the time he shows up. But like I said no matter how much I understand the reasons behind Daemon's actions, Rhaenyra still has every right to feel hurt and angry at him for it.

Then they get into the subject of Viserys and the issue of heir to the throne. Again Rhaenyra made a good point when she said that Viserys, like Rhaenyra, couldn't trust Daemon. I do think Daemon's biggest enemy is his own impulsiveness and rashness. It is obvious that Daemon is loyal to both his brother and Rhaenyra, its obvious that he loved them both and I don't agree with Rhaenyra's statement that the only person his heart belongs to is himself, I think he loves both Viserys and Rhaenyra more than he loves himself, but he has a habit of letting his impulses get the better of him and that drives a wedge between him and Viserys and Rhaenyra. It doesn't help that this mistrust and the gap between them is forced wider by Otto scheming, it suits him for Daemon to be at odds with Viserys because Daemon sees right through Otto and knows how he manipulates Viserys. One thing I do agree with that Daemon said was that Viserys wasn't a leader of men, he was constantly being pushed around and manipulated by others and just always wanted to keep the peace, at times this was the correct course, but at others there was a need for action. Daemon on the other is very much someone who was a leader which is why I think he struggles with surrendering that role to Rhaenyra at times.

Daemon also was saying it true when he pointed out that Rhaenyra wasn't made heir, initially, because Viserys thought she'd be a good queen but because he wanted to put Daemon in his place, it was more Viserys recognised Daemon was too impulsive to be a good King than because he thought Rhaenyra was wise and a good option. It is possible that he recognised that as she was younger he would be able to mould her more into being a good ruler, he had more time to teach her. But this is still hurtful to Rhaenyra who has always had some doubt as to whether her father truly wanted her to be heir.

I do think that they both needed to get all of this hurt and lingering resentment out, it was still awful and heartbreaking to watch because to me it does seem like they love each other, but right now they do need their space from each other. I don't think this is the end of their story, I think Daemon will go to Harrenhall and try his hardest to prove that he is loyal to Rhaenyra and try to win her trust back. I also think with him gone maybe Rhaenyra will come to realise just how much she does rely on him, I mean a big part of the reason why she married him, outside of their love, was for protection.

Ok I know this part some of you will disagree with me, but last ep's review talked about whether or not I thought Daemon had directly ordered the death of Jaehaerys, whether his command was if you can't find Aemond then any son will do. I said that I didn't think he did and it was more of a lost in translation situation, that he said something like 'it has to be a son for a son, no head no money''. That he meant it in reference to Aemond only, as he has used that line in reference to Aemond, but obviously Blood and Cheese didn't know that, misinterpreted it and instead figured Jaehaerys would do. After seeing this episode I am actually even more convinced that this is what happened. Here's my reasoning for this, previously when confronted with crimes/sins he may have committed, like the heir for a day, whether he took Rhaenyra's virginity etc, he always gives vague answers and acts unbothered, he's half admitted to things he hasn't even done in the past because to him its better to own it then to defend himself. The only time we really see him being honest is in 1x02 on the bridge when she outright asks Daemon if he's to have a child and he admits that Mysaria isn't pregnant. In contrast to those scenes where he neither really confirms or denies the accusations, here he gives a straight answer, he says I told them Aemond, I said no, it was a mistake. Seeing as the last time he was honest about something like this was too Rhaenyra it makes sense to me that he would once again be honest now. I also think given how much he focuses on the mistake aspect of it and on how it shouldn't have been able to happen, I think the part he is guilty of is not being clear enough. I says I was clear in my instructions and he does this sort of laugh of disbelief which makes me think that he is just know realising that he wasn't as clear as he could have been and that he is somewhat responsible for this mistake that has done some damage to Rhaenyra's claim. So I still think, in the show, that it was Aemond and solely Aemond that Daemon put the hit out on. The other possibility is that he did offer up another option like maybe 'just make it a son for a son', but that he believed that if they couldn't find Aemond they'd go after Aegon. Daemon's anger was at Aemond for killing Luke and at Alicent for putting her son on the throne, he wanted Aemond to pay for killing Luke and he wanted Alicent to feel Rhaenyra's pain at losing a son, so I personally don't think he'd have settled for anything less than one of Alicent's sons but really wanted Aemond. But this is all my interpretation and as I said I am sure they'll be many out there that have interpreted it differently. Also all that being said, do I think Daemon cares that Jaehaerys was killed, no probably not. I think he probably does get some satisfaction out of the greens' grief and at having some hand in causing them pain, he's vengeful like that.

Rhaenyra and Baela

I did really like that scene between Rhaenyra and Baela, I think it showed they had a good bond even though Baela was raised on driftmark. I also think the plan of keeping an eye on Kings Landing via dragon back is a good idea so they can spot any moves the greens make. I also understand why Rhaenyra didn't want to let Jace be the one to go, she doesn't want to risk losing him like she lost Luke and is still probably regretting letting them carry the messages themselves. Also it would be somewhat reckless considering Jace is the heir, however I don't see him sitting out for long. I am also curious as to what his reaction to Rhaenyra sending Baela will be, I could see him being very concerned and protective of her, especially after losing his brother. I am glad that Rhaenyra made it clear to Baela that she was to stay high and keep a good distance, though I am still a bit worried for Baela, hopefully nothing happens to her.

Baela and Jace

Speaking of Baela and Jace, I adored that scene between them so much. I just love that having realised that she wasn't at supper he sought her out to make sure she was ok, it's sweet that he clearly missed her company. I also loved the conversation between them about fathers. I really loved that they gave plenty of attention to Laenor and recognised him as Jace's father, it was so sweet seeing that smile on Jace's face as he spoke about him, how he taught them to fish and sing sailor's shanty's, that he loved a cake, I mean who doesn't. But I feel like alot of people overlook the fact that Laenor was their father, yes Harwin was biologically, but it was Laenor who tucked them in at night, who taught them songs etc, he was the one that claimed them and gave them his name. He was their true father.

That being said I also liked that Baela brought up Harwin too, and she did so with no judgement or shame, it showed that trust that exists between them that she felt comfortable asking. Again Jace spoke so fondly of Harwin with that little smile on his face. It was a little said when he said 'I think he loved us', the fact that he wasn't entirely sure because Harwin had to keep his distance a bit for their own safety. But I love how Baela immediately reassured him by saying 'of course he did.' She had this slight look of disbelief on her face like she couldn't imagine anyone not loving Jace.

The scene did become a bit bittersweet at the end though when Jace said he missed Luke, but I am glad that Baela was there to comfort him. I do think this scene was both very cute and heart-warming because it does show how much love Jace has had in his life but also it shows how much loss he has suffered too, and he is still so young. But I am really hoping we get to see more of these two together because they have such great chemistry, think I've got a new HOTD ship.

Possible Important Characters

Speaking of Laenor, I could be wrong, but did we see Seasmoke this episode, because I am sure that was the dragon that flew over the beach when Addam was digging for, clams? Maybe?

Speaking of Addam, we saw a few characters this episode that I think probably will have some significance later. I am sure book readers already know what that significance is but I am currently clueless. I am curious about the brothers Alyn and Addam. Addam kept saying that Corlys owed them, I get that Alyn pulled Corlys from the sea and so that could be why Corlys owes him, but Addam also said that Corlys owes him which makes me think there's more to this than just Alyn saving Corlys life, in what way does Corlys owe Addam who doesn't appear to have been at sea with them when Corlys was injured? There was also this weird kind of tension between Alyn and Corlys in ep 1 so I am very curious to know what that is all about.

Another character we saw again in this episode was Hugh Hammer, I think his name was. Honestly this scene where his wife was talking about having to walk miles to get a chicken and spent three times the price made me flashback to covid when you had to go to several stores to try and find what you needed and where you had people bulk buying toilet paper and hand sanitiser then selling it on amazon and ebay at extortionate prices. All this focus on the hardship on the small folk though does make me wonder if there is going to be a revolt at some point, I could see them getting real tired of being collateral in this targaryen war. I really hope Hugh's daughter is going to be ok though because she really did look sick and I could see her dying, Aegon not paying the money he promised and that causing Hugh to lead a revolt against the royals.

Whatever happens though, I am excited to see more of these characters and what the story has entail for them.

Criston Cole

Sorry to all Criston Cole fans but this episode really did remind me of how much I hated him and why. I mean every scene he was in made me burn with rage. We had people asking him the right questions to, Aegon asking him where he was, I mean technically he didn't lie when he said he was abed, its just it was alicent's bed he was in not his own. Then there was Ayrrk asking the very good question of why Helaena didn't have a sworn shield asigned to her, something that should have happened when she ascended as queen. So it looks like once again, surprise surprise, Cole hasn't done his job properly, as Commander of the Kings Guard it would be his responsibility to assign that Sworn Shield and he just didn't, he what, just forgot? Either way it does explain why Helaena was able to go all the way from her quarters to Alicent's without seeing any guard, their should have been one right outside her door, shadowing her every move, but Criston Cole had better things to do than assign Helaena the protection she obviously needed, apparently.

I also hated the scene when he confronts Arryk about his white cloak having dirt on it and goes off about how its a symbol of their purity, virtue and honour or some such. I mean hypocrite, it was so clear that Cole was projecting his own guilt and shame onto Arryk, I also didn't like how he was trying to put the blame for Jaehaerys' death onto Arryk acting like it was his fault somehow when he was where he was supposed to be as Aegon's sworn shield.

Which brings us to Criston's plan of parent trapping the blacks in order to kill Rhaenyra. He wants Arryk to pretend to be his twin to gain access to Dragon Stone and kill her. In theory I can see how this plan might work, but its still very reckless as Erryk is still there, all it would take was someone seeing them both at the same time, them seeing the other, or even a guard passing one and then another moments later, for the whole plan to fall apart. I mean that is what happens, Mysaria has just left Erryk when she sees Arryk coming up the hill and figures out what is happen, it seems like she might then have sent a warning to Erryk who was able to intercept his brother. But one thing was clear to me and that's that Cole didn't care at all if Arryk was killed in this mission. He was blatantly using Arryk in his own revenge fantasy against Rhaenyra. The thing that is disturbing about this is that the Kings Guard are supposed to be sworn brothers, they're supposed to have a bond and be loyal to each other, but Cole just throws Arryk under the proverbial bus.

Another moment that annoyed me to no end and got my blood boiling is when he says that 'its time the bitch queen paid'. I already made a post about this right after I watched the episode i was that infuriated by it, because Rhaenyra has paid, she has already lost so much, her mother, her friendship with alicent, harwin, laenor in a way, her father, her unborn daughter, her son and her throne. Like what else does he want her to lose, to pay. Apparently her life. So yeah I hate Criston Cole sorry not sorry.

Erryk and Arryk.

This whole situation was so heartbreaking, just the idea of two brothers pitted against each other is sad. What I will say is that they played this sequence very well. It really built the tension up as you watch Arryk playing this game of cat and mouse with Erryk, creeping through the halls of Dragon Stone, coming so close to nearly being caught. Then its racked up again when the maid says she'll bring a draft for Rhaenyra and you're thinking is she going to drink it and not awake with Arryk's attack. Then you see Arrky make it into Rhaenyra's bedchambers and approach her with his sword drawn, then his brother comes in and their fight ensues, there is a moment when Rhaenyra is trying to get away and Arryk swings the sword at her and nearly gets her, she gets to the door but its locked, then the other Kings Guard arrives to protect Rhaenyra but now we don't know which twin is which. You have that awful and really heartbreaking moment when one of the twins says we were born together and the other replies you parted us, but I still love you brother, before making that terrible choice to kill his brother. It is clear that the twin that survived was overcome with guilt and grief at having killed his brother, there is also the fact that we can't trust that the surviving twin is Erryk, then he falls on his sword and its just so tragic.

This scene really did make you feel that impending danger and it cranked up the tension perfectly. I kept thinking after last episode what it was about the Blood and Cheese scene that felt so off, because it wasn't that it needed more gore, honestly thank goodness it didn't have more because the sounds were horrifying enough, it also wasn't Phia's acting because she did an amazing job of showing Helaena's terror in that moment. But I think it was this, the tension just wasn't built up properly, they rushed through the scene and dialogue so quickly that you didn't really have time to feel that tension, to sense that danger they were all in. I think they needed to take a beat and drag the scene out a bit more. Like have Helaena pause longer before pointing to the boy, maybe Cheese has to threaten her again before she chooses. Maybe they could have had blood and cheese debate over which one was which a little longer. Maybe they both move over to the girls bed, maybe the dagger is near her throat, but then Cheese looks back at Helaena and realises that she was telling true, maybe Blood argues with him a little, maybe Helaena tries to get to the boy but is intercepted, then they have blood and cheese move to the boy and that's when Helaena grabs Jaehaera and runs. I just think if they had taken a bit more time with it, the audience would have had more time to feel the tension and fear and danger, but hey maybe its just me.

What I do think is symbolic though is that the first deaths of the war are Luke and Jaehaerys. Two children, two sons, two innocents. I think this is to show that in war it is the innocents who suffer. Then the next deaths dealt to each side are the brothers, Arryk and Erryk, again I think this is very symbolic of how this war is tearing families apart, how its setting siblings and other family members against each other.

Otto and His Really Bad Day.

This was another element of the episode that I probably wasn't supposed to find funny yet still did, I mean the facial expressions this man way giving just kept cracking me up. He was so done with everyone. I did understand his frustration at Aegon and Criston. Killing the rat catchers was a stupid move, most were innocent and in one move Aegon undid all the sympathy they had gained from Jaehaerys' funeral procession. On top of that it rendered the torment that Alicent and even more so Helaena went through trying to gain that sympathy and that advantage over Rhaenyra. It was also very unnecessary. If they were able to round all the rat catchers up in order to hang them then they could have just as easily had them brought before Helaena for her to identify Cheese. Instead they've given the small folk a reason to hate them.

I also thought the look on Otto's face when Aegon said Cole had taken action. That slow 'and what has Cole done?' showed that he was really dreading the answer. It was clear that he knew the plan wasn't going to work. I would feel bad for him but I do feel like he is reaping what he has sown. He was the one who put Aegon on throne without giving him any training or preparation because he believed that Aegon would be controllable like his father.

That being said that line 'he was right about you' was a low blow by Otto, but he's not wrong if we are being honest. Still it must have hurt for Aegon to hear. Also the way Otto laughed when Aegon said Viserys had made him King, they all know that Viserys didn't want Aegon to be King, which again I think is something that plagues Aegon.

I'm not surprised that Aegon fired Otto, and his not again face was comical. Aegon then naming Cole I think is a huge mistake, I am still in disbelief that this guy even still has a job and here he is getting a promotion, mind boggling.

Daeron?

So apparently Alicent has another son, which did we know that? I feel like we didn't know that. I do think its interesting that he's the only child that isn't in Kings Landing, like why is he the only one that was sent to Old Town? I do have a theory but it could be/ likely is completely wrong.

But here's the thing, we don't know exactly when Alicent's sexual relationship with Cole actually started. It could have been after Viserys died, or it could have been years earlier, or maybe it happened once years earlier and they swore they wouldn't do it again, then caved after Viserys died.

A lot of babies are sometimes born with really light hair that gets darker as they get older. When I was a baby until I was about 3-4 years old my hair was white blonde, then it got a bit darker to a more mousy blonde when I was a child and then darker still when I was a teen to a dark blonde/light brown. I've seen it happen alot with other babies too where they start out light but get very dark hair later. SO here's the theory, what if Daeron is actually Cole's son. He was born with white blonde hair and Alicent was relieved thinking oh ok the baby is Viserys, but then as Daeron starts to get older Alicent starts to notice that his hair is starting to darken. She panics and then arranges for her son to be sent to Oldtown so that the memory people in Kings Landing have of him in the typical targaryen blonde hair.

It could also explain why Alicent is so obsessed with Rhaenyra's eldest sons being bastards, she's projecting her own guilt and shame onto Rhaenyra just like Cole was doing with Arryk. Like I said I could be totally wrong about this, but if that guy shows up with dark hair I am going to be suspicious as hell.

No Comfort To Be Had

One thing that did strike me about the greens in this episode is how little they comfort one another. It's in stark contrast to the blacks who mostly banded together in their grief and comforted each other, sort each other out, like Jace and Baela. Whereas with the greens they all kind of isolate themselves and each deal with their grief alone and not necessarily in the healthiest of ways.

That scene on the staircase between Aegon and Helaena was sad because its clear they are both in pain and Helaena seems to want Aegon to comfort her, but as always, he ignores her. But in this case it did look for a moment like he wanted to say something, wanted to offer some comfort but just didn't know how to do that, so instead he just walked away as Helaena gave this sad nod of acceptance.

We see Helaena isolate herself in her room and cling to the things that remind her of her son, his cloak or blanket that she was embroidering, the toy he used to play with.

Aegon also isolates himself alone so that he can grieve. I actually felt some sympathy for him in that ending scene where he was sobbing for his son, he clearly loved his son and is in a lot of pain. I mean its not enough for me to forget about the child fighting rings or what he did to dyana but it was still interesting seeing him in a more human and complex light.

Meanwhile Aemond takes himself off to the brothel and the madame that he lost his virginity to at the mature age of 13. I mean this does make sense in a way, he probably sees her in this weird motherly type way, someone he can get comfort and affection from, but the scene in still uncomfortable, as I think it is supposed to be.

We see Alicent walk away from Aegon instead of comforting him. At first I thought maybe it was because she doesn't know how to comfort him, but we have seen her comforting people in the past, she comforted both the king and rhaenyra after Aemma's death, we see her comfort Criston in 1x05, and Helaena in this episode. But I think what is telling is her interactions with Otto this episode. Their first scene together is Otto saying they shouldn't let Jaehaerys death shake them and that good may still come of it, when Alicent breaks down in sobs he offers very little comfort to her. Then later right before the scene of her leaving Aegon, she tries to confess to Otto and hopes for some comfort from him and instead he just brushes her off. So I think this moment shows how that lack of emotional support between Otto and Alicent has trickled down to Alicent's own children. Because she never got the proper emotional support and comfort from her father growing up, she was ill equipped to provide that same support and comfort to her children.

The part where is becomes an issue for me though is when she then goes and immediately sleeps with Cole, I think some might interpret this as Alicent being cold and uncaring about Aegon and as someone who is just chasing her own pleasure instead.

Ok that is all for this time, I'll be back next week to see what other shananegans these Targaryens are going to get up to. So I will see you all then.