#one and (a teeny bit) done for robert

[bobbie-robron]

Grow up, Robert. It’s not a competition.

More of the same, Robert’s growing loathing of Andy continues. Robert asks Jack to help him out at the garage (washing the cars) since Scott is in hospital but Jack instead helps Andy who has a lot on his plate unlike Robert. Robert gets ticked off finding Andy in the pub (it’s his lunch hour) and gets it from Tamsin as well. Not a good day at all for Robert.

23-Jun-2005

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Yanni Yogi

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Case 1-4, “Turnabout Goodbyes,” is sort of the grand finale of the original Ace Attorney, and it ends the overarching story in a very satisfying way. We have the culmination of Phoenix and Edgeworth’s character arcs as well as elaboration on their shared history, we get some interesting developments about the past, and it features some of the most iconic moments in the entire series, from pointing out that it almost being Christmas means it wasn’t actually Christmas yet to cross-examining an actual parrot on the witness stand. Throw in the debut of charming hick photographer Lotta Hart and Larry Butz proving himself to be a bumbling asset, and you have one of the best and strongest cases the game has to offer (though in contrast with a lot of the rest of the series, it feels a bit easy).

Of course, a good case would be absolutely nothing without a good mystery leading into an impressive villain, and this case manages to have two! The first of them is without a doubt one of the single most sympathetic killers in the series, if not the most sympathetic: Yanni Yogi. Formerly a courtroom bailiff, being implicated in the DL-6 incident led to his entire life being ruined even if he was able to walk free. And in 1-4, he decides that enough is enough and he wants to get even. How exactly is this sympathetic? Well, that’s what this analysis is for.

Motivation/Goals: To put things extremely simply, Yogi’s goal is revenge. But nothing about 1-4 is simple, so let’s take the opportunity to do something that will be unique to some of these Ace Attorney analyses: Discuss the victim, Robert Hammond.

Hammond would likely have been worthy of a Psycho Analysis on his own if he wasn’t already dead; the man was a defense attorney who only cared about winning his cases, a very dark reminder that it isn’t just the prosecutors who are amoral in this series. Hammond took on Yogi after DL-6 and forced the poor guy to play the part of an insane man so that he could get out of the murder charges levied against him by Gregory Edgeworth’s ghost. And it worked! Yogi went free! There was just one teeny tiny little issue:

Yogi’s life was fucking destroyed.

Socially he ended up as an outcast, and things got to the point where his fiancee Polly committed suicide after dealing with the backlash. What’s more, Yogi was forced to continue living out his life as a deranged man, unable to really go back to normal. And keep in mind: All of this was done to free him from the consequences of a crime he didn’t commit, a crime he was only accused of because the victim’s spirit couldn’t possibly have known the real murderer was lurking outside the elevator.

It’s genuinely hard to blame Yogi for capping Hammond, because the dude was an utter asshole who demonstrably ruined Yogi’s life. Hammond absolutely deserved what was coming to him. Now, framing Miles Edgeworth, on the other hand… That’s a lot less forgivable. Edgeworth certainly never meant Yogi any harm, and he had just as poor an understanding of the situation as both his dead father and Yogi himself. No one involved here was on the same page, and all of them were being manipulated by the real murderer as part of his master plan to get his ultimate revenge.

Performance: In the live action movie, Yogi is portrayed by Fumiyo Kohinata, and to say he kills it in the role is an understatement. I think a lot of it comes from the movie showing rather than simply telling when it comes to Yogi’s horribly tragic backstory, with him getting to act out his reactions to Hammond’s cruelty towards him as well as stumbling across his wife’s body post-suicide, but he definitely ends up as one of the strongest aspects of an already stellar adaptation.

Breakdown: Yogi actually has one of the more lowkey breakdowns in the series when it comes to sympathetic killers, almost to the point that he doesn’t really have a breakdown. One minute he’s the teetering, goofy old man:

And then one avian cross-examination later, he gives up the goat and reveals his true self:

I actually think the lack of an extreme reaction gives Yogi a unique level of dignity and really highlights how utterly tragic his circumstances were, even if he really didn’t go about things in the best way.

Best Scene: The movie actually shows Yogi finding his wife’s body, and if it didn’t hit home how absolutely miserable and tragic this poor man’s life was before, well, here you go.

Final Thoughts & Score: More than any other sympathetic killer in the series, Yogi is the one who my heart goes out to most.

Yes, he’s not as friendly and charming as Acro, and he’s definitely not anywhere near as sexy as Geiru Toneido, but if you look at the facts this guy genuinely just didn’t deserve anything that happened to him. He didn’t kill Gregory Edgeworth, but no one believed him, not even his own lawyer; said lawyer forced him to pretend to be insane, which even if it got him free ruined his reputation and caused his beloved fiancee to kill herself; he ended up being stuck pretending to be a lunatic for years to keep suspicion off of himself even though, again, he was innocent; and then he ends up being used as a pawn in a convoluted revenge scheme. His only real crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time on that fateful day.

All of this really helps make Yogi the most pitiable villain out there. He is just a sad old man forced to live as something he’s not, and who lost literally everything. And after all that, the sole victory he managed to achieve was rendered completely hollow by the fact he ended up caught, being exposed in court, and then having the truth of DL-6 brought into the light, something that would have acted as his complete vindication had he not decided to kill. In the end, all he did was ensure his parrot was going to have to be taken in by someone else and perhaps even get himself the death penalty.

Yogi gets a 9/10 from me. A lot of this really comes from the movie more than anything, not because it’s better than the game version but because it expands upon and shows what the game already told us to great effect. He’s a fantastic sympathetic killer and one of the best tragic villains of the series, and the one all others should be measured against.

[the-firebird69]

This is pretty close the rear end is a little bit Camaro but the front end is very much a goat and I probably would not accept it with the goat rear end it would look like a supercar at the front of his kick butt and it said it and I agree. We're working on this company and trying to get it going and we're trying to make prototypes. So we do issue them and they look kind of like in the last year they were made there's some good renderings to come out it look like them and some people have pictures out here and it looks like they saw it and the car is pretty hot several of them were seen in the midwest areas it took pictures and we are issuing more we have the new Grand Am and we're going to work on the goat and I'm going to borrow this for the front end and you guys like the flat big front end that pushes the air get another Challenger and charger type thing. They do slow down faster

Thor Freya

Olympus

We have a ways to go on that but we're doing it and this guy is in the way I used to get rid of idiots for being in the way of one company and we're going to get rid of this one same technique

It's just a lot more things than he's in the way of and we're going to crush him. It's a good thing to do and we should start it now

Frank Castle hardcastle

I'm tired of hearing about the piece of crap too I'm tired of him being in the way and people not push your mouth this guy is no different he's just horrible to our son and daughter horrible and he needs out and he is a terrorist I find it to be gross that we're hanging on to him I want him away from her son right now. I'm going to find out what the deal is then I'm going to get him out of there

Duke Nukem Blockbuster

Who knows your job to handle nukes the way if you move them out it's making it worse and we won't allow it because we think we'll do better we're going to move them out when we want to

Macs

If you had half a brain you would want to but I'm going to keep using them until my goals are met well, are exceeded already so..yeh ok yeh

Zues Hera

We hear that and we get that you're doing stuff and we see there's Giants all over the place and we haven't done anything and it won't be a reward for it okay you're in the castle beforehand as something else to get the lazy piece of s*** doing something else who knows you thrashing his ass on video but we're making a fight so what do we care and you kind of beat will some other people you weren't supposed to and I just like to get beat I guess this guy Dave is asking for it already using it and I see something it's the vehicle is in and things are going on over there so you're going to take the text from him he took before we get to it cuz of you too small that blows it's just keep going the way you're going to me they say it to me but really this is what we're doing with it for doing nothing

Macs

I'm actually appalled and it is what it is they use it for that and they get away with it because we're sitting here Jamie to them for Christ's sake with jamming cover to him so hard it hurts whatever happened to doing something normal this is ridiculous we're going to fly into an upside down and I'm on fire and Teeny I don't think so

Robert Duvall

So don't use my name in Robert and you f****** f***** I hear that it's a pain and he's trying to distract you with a nice delivery of Omaha steaks but really I only look that way that's fun. This place wears on you and these people are so boring and lame end of doing something dumb what he's doing is what they allow he biking to places to get food and stuff and that's it and we don't like what you're doing there threatening for them he says ben Arnold is. So we also see you he's just kind of sitting around dictating stuff and it's wrong and you don't have to do anything no hobbies and was it going to do yet nothing it doesn't do anything you're losers for what you're doing we find to be morons you don't containing anything controlling anything you're not having him say stuff mostly save himself you're f****** dumb. You don't do anything for a job here you lose her so far fired we told you to relocate or are we going to get you and you don't you didn't relocate that is the time frame and all sorts of stuff and Jesus Christ to you Lane you're breaking all the rules and laws it's not really helping us

William Dafoe

That's inappropriate name it means William the foe. And he's putting up that they have given them a deadline to move out and that's significant this is the empire that have put it there and really if they don't move out they'll probably kill half the ones so don't and it's random but if you stay here for a while longer they will wipe all you out. It's kind of what they say sometimes we know you're not going to move before you're the English for us but it's something the whole world will see that we told you to move and without fussy to die or not move you're just doing it and you're going to get hit. But my point is that they've told us after time the gravy train is leaving and if the pseudo empire turns into it they're going to dust them too and foreigners forgieners it a little too.

Zues and this is what my husband has been saying and Olivia says in writing for these guys apparently Olympus got this in writing from these Max yeah there's a time limit for recess and we're doing as much as we can and Thor and Freya are the ones pushing and we're pushing harder because we're under duress and he is doing it correctly there were a lot of studies that recently and our people who are in a different place are very curious and when they hear about it they understand the problem and I started to get involved for this is complex difficult very dangerous but really when it comes down to it it's survival and we want ours on board to help us with the project to survive

Hera

We're getting ready for war with anybody but these Max told these people to get out and we agree they should but there will be changes here to what our son is allowed to do and so forth but right now he's not allowed to go anywhere and he is under house arrest play a bunch of scallywags and criminals and lowlifes it just doesn't fit for us it's got to change a lot of the reason why their acts below so bad is because of the ship above and people don't see it it's time to move that thing out of there and we heard it yesterday from a lot of people and actually Trump is going to work on it and he sees opportunity and we think he's right these clothes just sit around doing nothing and we think it might drive the ship's loose and he wants to sit there but nobody's going to let him sit there

Thor Freya

We have a right to sit there if we want to we can do it we want up there once we get there and he says no you're not reading what people are saying it's not us alone but they say is we don't want you up there for a f****** second if you get up there and he's out we're going right behind you to take you out before you can touch the controls and someone saying that from here and it might be corks and he says I'll get you and he says you won't get us we have backing and they don't want your fruitcake has up there a bunch of jokes and kill your own and tell me after this Tommy F does but you would start right in so we're going to get rid of you you don't listen when people say not to do stuff we don't either but we don't want you out there a corky says.

This is going on for a while but this guy is still up there it is bothering everybody and we don't have any method of getting up there and people will do get pretty beat up. He says Black widow is full of them and xenomorph and facehuggers infect you and you are under control and say it would be helping you to infiltrate that's in your life would be over and we don't understand what he's talking about since just like a robot intro after interrupter but different yeah we get the concepts and we do understand where and we're right there that's what it is

Trump

Shut up f****** a******

Zues Hera

Last night Dave ak-10 got Dan got arrested three times and shot twice and learned his father had put a crappy heart in your in him there was somehow on pretty air into the heart without the lungs and he started to die right away and he also figured out that a lot of people are stupid and they tried to blame Becca for what happened and she took the heart out to study it because it was strange and it had air in it it didn't make any sense it wasn't connected to the lungs it was separating oxygen and other out couldn't figure out how but she took pictures of inside it and outside it and people said there's a hole in it and it was a hole and they looked at the body and found someone had connected to the lung. But if you have a hole in your heart doesn't mean arrow get in just no air in your body so it didn't make sense it was getting air after and that's true so they looked at it no he did and he said it's connected to your body and stuff there's a little cavity there and there is how's your lungs expanded contractors of cavity so people were disgusted they've had this problem before and they went to repair and it did and find out it was Trump and he's trying to do this to people and he's going around bothering her son all day and all night so we are going to terminate him the orders are in I'm changing the priority

Thor Freya

We have a lot to do it a lot to talk about so we're going to get to it shortly

Frank Castle hardcastle

Huge epitaph on me this morning and after we talked and before and about nukes and we need to stop these people now and I do need troops

Duke Nukem Blockbuster

We're moving on it and sending as you know and order it up more and his boys are curious and girls and they're getting together good

Thor Freya

I need to recruit the rest of our people and we need to get our recruiters going it already doing tons of stuff they need to hire people that they've trained to do their job and move help and and move outwards and get more help and now so yeah tell them to do it

Olympus

[rolandrockover]

Some Theme for X in Hell

Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell is one of Gene's better songs from the 80s, but that's not really meant as a compliment, because while it's not bad, which is a good thing, it's not really good either (1). And what does that make it then? I can't say for sure, and I don't think I want to, because I don't care a little bit. It is there and it simply exists. And on days like today, somewhere between my sense of duty and listlessness, when I think that I should quietly write something about Hot in the Shade again, then this song seems to me to be more than suitable for my only little demanding intentions, because in it one can easily and quite quickly find one or the other useful thing to cannibalize.

…but for today we'll stay frugal and ultimately just work on a low key and just look at the main guitar theme, which always seems to be somewhere between the verses and the chorus. You know, the one that has some similarity to Peter Gunn's theme. If we now slowly sprinkle in a little bit of the chord progression of the main riff from Got Love For Sale then we'll get a lot closer to the desired middle. But there's still something missing, and because I don't want to try too hard I'll grab something close, maybe something from between 1987, und 1989, namely Let's Put the X in Sex, and just a teeny bit of its keyboard-backed main riff and that Robert Palmer feeling.

I knew it, Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell is somewhere between Got Love For Sale and Peter Gunn. And Let's Put the X in Sex. Now I just have to find the Enter key and I'm done, it was here somewhere between the asterisk and the seven on the extra number field.

Side Note:

(1) It's a bit like the red wine that The Old Man Parker drinks in A Christmas Story (1983).

Just press Play. Everything starts exactly where it should, as usual, but please do not exert yourself:

Theme from Peter Gunn (1958)

Got Love For Sale (1977)

Let's Put the X in Sex (1988)

Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell (1989)

[gayandvibin]

20 witt Robbie and Rowan xd

This potions test is going to be the death of him.

Rowan Khanna had always hoped that he would flicker out in old age, or as the first to make a monumental discovery that will hold their family in history books for millennia to come.

But as it stands, perhaps sixth year is what's really going to do it.

The words swim on the page under the golden glow of candle light, and it is at this dank hour of the morning the youngest Khanna is certain that Severus Snape is the most vindictive bastard he has ever met in his life.

He thunks his head down on the desk, the bridge of his glasses pressing an indent into his skin.

There is a hearty chuckle from his bed,

"Alright there, Ro?"

"Superb, love."

"Mmm, is it your wolfsbane or your cheese based potions that's getting you?"

Rowan throws his head back, squeaking the chair back and looking over at his boyfriend.

"I cannot believe he is making us study all of this crap."

Robert grins, potion books closed at his side,

"I think it's the only fun Snape gets, and who are we to deprive an old man of his dreams?"

Rowan straightens, rubbing at the bridge of his nose,

"Is it a bad call to drop a subject right before end of year tests?"

"Maybe. But at least you don't have to pass, I'm never going to live it down if I willingly spent two years of my life in that classroom, only to have Sanpe laugh in my face on results day."

"Ugh. Robbie, I am going to die before we get there."

"Oh c'mon babe, you just need some sugar."

Muttering curses to himself, Rowan opens the textbook and scans the page.

If he keeps reading, nothing can go wrong, right?

The bed shifts over his shoulder as he turns over, noting the list of ingredients and his own spidery annotations.

It's once he's read through most of the method that a weighty packet smacks him right in the side of the face.

"Sorry!"

He squints at Robbie, grinning sheepishly at the headboard,

"What in the actual fuck was that?"

"Sugar! It helps you think, something about brain pathways or whatever."

He waves a hand as if in emphasis of his point.

Rowan bites his tongue and unfurls the paper bag.

Oh.

"Thank you, Robert."

His mouth quirks into a smile without his intent.

"Well, they are your favourite, so I've been saving them for you."

For a moment Rowan can feel liquid gathering at the corners of his eyes, but he blames it on the early morning and a lack of sleep, jamming half of a sugar quill in his mouth.

He hums a half-formed reply, and flicks through the chapter.

Almost there... almost there and then he can sleep...

Twenty minutes becomes forty, then fifty, and soon his desk chair is beginning to mold to the crook of his spine.

The barest hint of sunlight trickles between the curtain gap, and his candle pools wax in a disquieting puddle.

The notes are barely less nonsensical than they had been an hour or so previously when Robert makes the decision to seat himself in Rowan's lap, winding around his limbs like a bowtruckle.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, if you're not coming to bed, then I'm coming to you."

He sighs,

"Robert, you are in the way of my notes."

The shorter of the two shrugs, seemingly settling in further.

"I love you, but I need you to go away because you're really bloody distracting and I have to pass this test tomorrow."

Robbie looks up at him, eyes half lidded as he mumbles,

"You're not taking anything in, so you might as well get a couple hours of sleep, right?"

He yawns into Rowan's chest, and he supposes he can't argue with that.

So his potions notes lay open on his desk, pages creased under a bag of sugar quills, well into the morning. His dreams are unfettered by the monoliths of his textbook, and Robert curls at his side.

The day is good, at least, and no tragedy befalls Rowan Khanna.

In fact, he rather pleased by its outcome.

[marvelous-harry]

Reader surprising Harry at one of his shows

Horse & Hound Harry/Fem!Reader Words: 1126 A/N: I changed it a teeny tiny bit, hope you don't mind! x

“We should tell him, give him time to prepare,” I said down the phone for the hundredth time as I talked to Jeff. Fiddling with the strap on my bag, I looked absentmindedly out the window as the taxi drove on the highway.

“We should not tell him, I have to get him through a few interviews still and if he knows you’re coming he will be unbearable. Plus he loves surprises!” Jeff said excitedly.

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “Jeff, he hates surprises,” I laughed.

“Yes, yes he does but he does love you and he’ll be so happy to see you,” Jeff replied before I heard more voices in the background. “Just call me when it’s time and I’ll sort it out,”

Saying goodbye, I hung up the phone and leaned back in my seat to try and get some rest after the long flight.

--

“Miss, we here,” the taxi driver said loudly, waking me in an instant. Looking around blearily, I sat up and cleared my throat.

“Must’ve fallen asleep,” I said as I started searching my bag for my wallet while calling Jeff at the time. Handing off my card, I held my phone to my ear when I saw Jeff picking up. “Hi, I’m here,” I smiled politely at the driver as he handed back my card. “Hold on, give me a sec,” I huffed as I opened the car door and got my suitcase and handbag out. Taking a deep breath as the taxi driver sped off, I held the phone to my ear again.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m outside. By the gate,” I heard Jeff call someone over. “Alright, I’m sending Alex to come to meet you downstairs and I’ll get security to let you in,” Jeff said quietly.

“Thanks, I’ll just stand here awkwardly and wait,” I heard him chuckling. “Shouldn’t be too long, they’re on their way already,” Jeff told me.

“Are you going back to the hotel at all or staying here till the show?” I asked seeing at it was only 2 in the afternoon and the show didn’t start till 8.

“Emm, no we’ll be heading back just after the interviews are done for dinner, though I suppose Harry won’t be dining with us anymore. And after that, we’d head back here for final soundcheck before getting ready,” I smiled.

“Oh! The gate is opening, see you in a bit I guess!” “See you,” Hanging up and putting my phone away, I grabbed the handle on my suitcase. Making small talk with security till we made it inside, I grinned as I saw Alex, Harry’s assistant. “Hi! I missed you! It’s so good to see you again!” I gushed as I gave him a tight hug.

“It’s so good to see you too, it’s been forever already,” Alex replied, helping me with my suitcase.

“I know, it’s been what? A month? That’s insane,” I replied as we headed towards the elevator. “Yeah, a month and week, I think,” he added as we stepped inside.

“So, Harry’s just finishing up some interviews before we’re going to go to the hotel for a bit. We’ll hide you in one of the smaller dressings rooms while he finishes up, then you can surprise him!” Alex grinned. “Fuck, my stomach is like hurting from all the nerves. Why am I doing this? I hate surprises. Harry hates surprises,” I groaned and looked at Alex with a grimace on my face.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Alex chuckled as he stuck his head out of the opening elevator doors. “Come on!” He whispered loudly and started walking quickly down the hall. Clutching my bag, I hurried after him.

“This is so fucking stupid,” I said as the door to the little dressing room closed behind us and I sank down on the couch, clutching my chest. “I’m too old for this, Alex, I swear I’m getting a heartburn,”

“And here I was thinking Harry was the dramatic one,” Alex rolled his eyes at me as stood by the door, checking his phone. I flipped him off before sitting up a bit more properly. “Hey, tell him there’s one more interview after the real last one. And tell him my name is William and I’m from Horse & Hound magazine,” I smiled at his confused face but he agreed to do it regardless.

--

Jumping as there was a knock on the door, I panicked until I saw it was just Jeff. “Jeffrey!” I said excitedly as I got up and gave him a tight hug. “How are you?” I asked as pulled back. “Good, how are you?” He asked back. I nodded and smiled. “I’m good, I’m good. Is it time?”

Jeff grinned. “Yeah, the last interviewer just left so it’s just Alex with him right now. Come on,” Jeff took my hand. Squeezing it tightly, I bit my lip to try and calm myself.

“So this is the last one yeah? I need food and a change of shoes.” I could hear Harry say and I didn’t realize just how much I’d missed until I heard him speak. A warm lovely feeling spread all through my body as I took in the sight of him. “Last one. Name is William and is from a magazine called Horse and Hound,” Alex said, managing to keep his voice straight.

“What?” Harry coughed as he looked at Alex equally confused and amused. “Did you just say Horse and Hound?!” he asked.

I took a few steps into the room. “So, any horses in your show? Or hounds maybe? Our readers appreciate both equally,” I asked loudly, letting go of Jeff’s hand while strolling further into the room.

“No, fucking way,” Harry said before rushing over. Throwing my hands around him, I closed my eyes and breathed him in. “God, I’ve missed you,” I whispered, feeling a little choked up.

“Missed you too,” Harry whispered back before kissing me softly. “I thought you couldn’t make it for another two weeks?” Harry asked as he stroked my arms.

I reached up and wiped away some of my lip balm that had been transferred to Harry’s cheek. “Our client got a better deal elsewhere apparently so I was free to go, so here I am,” I explained before hugging him tightly again.

“I’ve never been happier that you got work dumped,” Harry grinned, kissing my forehead. “One question,” he said before looking at me seriously. “Why am I always Julia Roberts?” he pouted and rested his forehead against mine.

“Cause your Hugh Grant impression is horrible,” I told him with a grin.

“Well that’s a blatant lie,” Harry replied before kissing me again. Closing my eyes, I smiled against his lips. Getting work dumped was turning out pretty great.

[shredsandpatches]

sunday snippet (strap-ons and pudding fealty edition)

A little bit more of the dinner table three-way fic today, which is coming along quite nicely. Obviously it’s set in the universe where everyone is just a teeny teeny bit more uninhibited than they are in the prime universe but also it works out for them and they can pull off the thing they do later in the fic without causing a massive scandal (they are gonna fuck on the table eventually but, like, after hours with no audience). 

Contains some nonworksafe text.

--

"Please don't mention Arundel and sex in anywhere near the same sentence," Richard whispers back. "Her Majesty would be extremely displeased if you were to render me impotent for life, and, furthermore, I would be extremely displeased if you were to render me impotent for life, and honestly I can't imagine you would be particularly happy with the situation yourself."

Robert snickers. "You're right, you're right, your Majesty," he says. "This is why I don't have my hands down your hosen this very instant. And why her Majesty isn't already climbing onto your face—"

"Robert!" Anne splutters, crossing her arms self-consciously over her breasts. "Stop that this instant!" she manages, before breaking down into giggles. A few people look in their direction, including Arundel, who rolls his eyes. Robert doesn't think his expression is more disgusted than usual, which is a good sign that he hasn't overheard them.

Which would, of course, improve the surprise factor considerably if they were to commence an orgy in the middle of dinner.

Richard is, himself, squirming in his seat a bit by now, but he's still collected enough to tease Robert. "See what you've done, my lord of Oxford? You've got my wife all worked up."

"I beg her Majesty's pardon," Robert says, batting his eyes in Anne's direction. He leans close to Richard's ear and murmurs against it: "I could make it up to you by sucking your cock under the table."

"How would that make it up to Anne?" Richard asks, laughing. "She hasn't got one! Well. Besides the ivory one you got for us, but I'm not sending anyone upstairs to go fetch it."

"She's got yours, doesn't she? That totally counts! She would definitely enjoy watching!"  

"What are you talking about?" Anne chimes in—she wasn't close enough to hear Robert's offer.

"Uh...dessert?" Richard says, either as an answer or a warning that the third course is coming in and and the servants are about to surround their table to clear away the remains of the second.

"Oh, I can think of something for—" Robert begins, before he's cut off by Richard's elbow making sharp contact with his ribs. "Hey!" he exclaims, before lowering his voice to more appropriately conversational tones. "It's all right, I wasn't planning on interrupting dessert."

"You had better not," Anne replies—her heavy eyebrows are frowning, but her eyes are smiling.

"I know the two of you, my lady," Robert says. "I would never stand between you and dessert. Especially since that looks like a violet pudding they're bringing in. I'll have to devote all my strength to keeping your husband from stealing it right off my plate."

"I'm the King," Richard laughs. "Legally, it's my pudding. You're just holding it in fee, in recompense for knight-service. Knight-service later," he adds.

[reincarnated70sbaby]

star crossed

-chapter three-

word count : 2k

warnings : drinking, nsfw 😏 lil teeny tiny angst 😎

<<previous chapter

next chapter>>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Cheers lads, sorry Alice, and lady, here’s to another fucking legendary album, even bigger than the first!” Peter announced, holding his beer goblet into the air.

“Santé!” Robert chimed first, with an abominable French accent and lopsided grin, earning disgusted looks from the rest of the party.

“Anyway, cheers guys, congrats on all the hard work” Tom cheered, happy to be apart of the process.

They all clinked their classes, and then drank their various types and measures of alcohol.

Feeling the cool amber liquid slide down her throat, Alice would’ve gagged, but being in the presence of four rockstars, she felt it would’ve been just a tad bit embarrassing.

“Never would’ve guessed you were a whisky woman Alice” Robert chuckled to Alice

“Oh believe me, I’m much more of a gin lady but I decided to follow the crowd tonight”

“Following the crowd, or following the guitarist huh?” Robert leaned into Alice, “I know he has a thing for you and you have a thing for him, know that we’re done officially being colleagues, you two are free to go at it like rabbits, I can only assume” Robert finished with a wink, before returning to his mischievous looking conversation with Bonzo.

Alice sat there with her mouth parted slightly. Did everyone notice her little crush on Jimmy? If they did, he must’ve only caught on too. Even though they both felt this strange connection, did he actually like her back, or was he just appeasing her for the sake of it? She was really in her head now, not even noticing Jimmy returning form the bar with a glass of whisky on the rocks, or Jonesy initiating a conversation with her.

“Sorry Jonesy, what was that?”

“I was saying, it’s not really that obvious to everyone else. I overheard Robert a minute ago. Honestly, you’d only notice if you’d been watching, and that was only me or Robert. Tom and Peter have no idea, no need to worry.”

“Why were you keeping an eye out Hmm?”

“Look Alice, you are quite young and Jimmy is a bit older than you, I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were getting into? Jimmy isn’t the most uh, loyal, should I say with his relationships. What I mean to say is, his relationships are all quite short lasting”

“Uh, yeah I was worried about something like that. I think I’m just going to play it by ear, I can’t really do anything else but that”

“I always knew you were far wiser than the rest of us” Jonesy guffawed, then chatting to Tom about something.

Alice decided she had enough of her thoughts, and decided to order a cocktail form the bar. Looking down the slightly yellow cocktail menu card, she decided on a Pornstar Martini. Sure, every time she had one the night always ended badly, but what could go wrong this time?

After a couple hours, the bar had quietened down, and so did the entourage. Robert and Bonzo left to find girls, and obviously found some, as they hadn’t returned since they left an hour ago. Tom left even before them, deciding he didn’t want anymore water thrown at him from Cheryl. Peter and Jonesy were just beginning to exit the building, leaving Jimmy and Alice.

“Ah, the terrible two left”

“Of course, even after Bonzo and Robert poured ice down Peters back earlier, they haven’t gotten anything on us two who are trying to drown ourselves in water in an attempt to sober up huh?”

“It’s not even working for me, I’m still seeing double”

Alice just laughed in response, enjoying their banter

“Can I ask you something Alice?”

“Sure, go ahead”

A beat of silence passed, Jimmy thinking on how to phrase his words. He didn’t know why he was nervous, he was pretty sure Alice would say yes anyway.

“Jimmy? What’s up?” Alice asked gently, setting her hand on the couch behind his head, stroking his neck affectionately.

Taking this as a sign, Jimmy pulled Alice in by her waist, kissing her gently.

Once she realised it was all finally happening, Alice kissed Jimmy back. Jimmy feeling this kiss, quickly pressing his tongue into her mouth. Alice never had a kiss this passionate before, she could only carry on.

“Let’s get out of here. Right now. I can’t wait any longer” Jimmy said between kisses

They quickly packed up their gear, not before Jimmy paid for their final drinks.

Practically running out to the street, Jimmy hollered for a taxi while holding Alice tightly by her waist, as if she might run away.

“Your place or mine” Alice asked, kissing his neck

“Yours, my hotel room doesn’t even constitute as a place”

Alice was practically straddling Jimmy at this point. His hands were everywhere, groping her ass, her waist, her neck and thighs. Boy did this man had magical hands.

Noticing that the cab had stopped only when the driver not so discreetly coughed their attention back to the taxi, they paid the bill and got out. Only once they ran up they three flights go stairs - the elevator just had to be broken this specific day, did Alice panic that Maria would be home, or that the apartment would be dirty. Reaching the door, she remembered that Maria was visiting her boyfriend in Nevada, and Alice had the premonition to deep clean her apartment the day before.

Unlocking the door, she and Jimmy practically slammed it open, before immediately shutting it back into the frame. Jimmy pressed her against the door, Alice could feel his bulge on her thigh. He gripped her by her waist, she was completely supported by him now, her feet not even touching the ground anymore.

“Which way is the bedroom” Jimmy asked, his voice barely audible beneath Alice's moans, him kissing all over her collarbones and neck.

“Uh, this was come on” Alice pulled him off her with a giggle, holding his hand and running to her bedroom around the corner from the front door.

Reaching her room, they practically dived for the bed. Alice landed on top and began to kiss Jimmy like he was her oxygen. Jimmy was snaking his hands under her skirt, squeezing and smoothing his hands all over her ass cheeks.

Alice raked her hands through Jimmy’s raven locks, loving the softness of them, when she arched her back at a new sensation. Jimmy had pushed her thin thong to the side and dipped one finger into her. Alice stoped her attack on his now bare chest, moaned his name loudly.

“Oh Jimmy, keep going, don’t stop”

Jimmy removed his finger, only then adding another one into her wet pussy. Alice began to rock her hips to his fingers pumping in and out of her. Jimmy removed his fingers and flipped her over. She was now under him, completely at his mercy.

He brought his fingers to her mouth, before pushing them through her plump lips. She swirled her tongue around his fingers, Jimmy groaning in answer.

“You taste divine, just like a honey drip”

They began to properly take each others clothes off, first with their shirts and blouses, then onto trousers and skirts. Finally only in their underwear, Alice sneaked her hand underneath his briefs and palmed him. His dick was fully hard at this point, her cool hand only making it even harder than before. He began to kiss behind her ear to hide his moans. She softly pumped his dick, after every couple of pump, swiping her thumb over his sensitive tip. A little precum had leaked out, Jimmy decided to save the rest for a better location.

Licking a stripe down her sternum, stopping to remove her bra when he reached the middle part on her chest. Marvelling at her body, he took one nipple into his warm mouth, while rolling her other nipple through his calloused fingers. All of this felt like electricity to Alice, moaning and mewling loudly, making her throw her head back in pleasure. Thank god Maria was out of town, or she wouldn’t have been getting any sleep, along with Alice and Jimmy.

Continuing to kiss hungrily down Alice’s body, he paused to check with Alice before removing her underwear, after making eye contact with her for consent.

Kissing her bikini line, teasing her just a little bit. He finally started to suck at her clit, Alice’s almost pornographic moans only encouraging him even more. He continued to kiss and suck on her clit, at the same time, pushing two fingers into her. Alice was in ecstasy, having never felt this good before with her previous few partners.

“Oh Jimmy-“

“Say my proper name love”

“James, oh lord, I’m going to cum”

“Cum for me then, darling”

Those words threw her over the edge, her vision almost going fuzzy.

Being brought back to reality by Jimmy placing a hand beside her head, stroking himself before pushing himself fully into her. She thought he was big, but not that big and thick.

She didn’t even have time to readjust before he started to pound into her, at a relentless pace. He even had to use the bedframe behind her head for support.

To add icing to the cake, he started to circle her clit with his thumb. He stretched the rest of his hand onto her hip, pushing himself into her even more than she thought was possible. His finger on her clit, as well as his dick pounding her g-spot with each thrust, Alice could feel herself unraveling

“James, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last-“

“Me too love, where can I-”

“In me, cum in me James” Alice practically insisted, locking eyes with him, both having borderline feral looks in their eyes. It was only a couple most thrusts until Alice came, Jimmy coming almost immediately after.

Pulling out slowly, Alice felt empty. Lying down beside Alice, Jimmy pulled her into him, her lying on top of him now. After a couple minutes, Alice readjusted herself on top of him.

“Reading for round two?”

“God help me I have found Aphrodite in human form”

“Well I am a Taurus” Alice chuckled

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up to the morning light streaming though her thin line curtains, Alice was surprised to see that her bed was empty. Suddenly thinking it was a dream, that theory was soon debunked when she saw red marks on her chest, trailing all the way down her stomach.

Assuming Jimmy had gone into the studio to start mixing the recordings, Alice decided to take a shower, her body sticky with sweat and sex. Her shower had obviously been used recently, the tiles still had some condensation on them, as well as faint footprints on the tiles.

Picking up a coffee for her and Tom on her way in, she decided to get him a bagel for old times sake. It had only been a couple weeks since everything changed, but it had all changed for the best.

“Morning Tom, lovely day today, I present you with a cream cheese bagel fresh from Antonio’s.” Alice gave him the bagel, only after curtsying mockingly deep before him.

“God, what put you in such a good mood, I’m usually scared to even look at you in the eyes this early in the morning”

“I’m just satisfied with everything, I guess. Where are the boys. I thought Jimmy was coming round to mix the recordings? Or did they sleep in again? I swear they always-”

“Uhm, what do you mean come round to mix the tapes?

“Well I just thought since they’re recording an album, they would want us to, you know, produce it?” Alice replied with a light chuckle, not registering Toms guilty expression.

“Alice honey, the boys aren’t mixing here, last night was the farewell party or fiesta, whatever you wanna call it”

“What?”

“Yeah they’re mixing it up in Atlanta, they had some press up there and-”

Tom’s words were drowned out as Alice sat in shock. Her heart almost broke at the revelation. Was she really just a simple fling to Jimmy? She should’ve listened to Jonesy, he obviously was trying to warn her. Heck, even Robert was trying to warm her, was he? She should’ve realised this would’ve never worked, an average girl like her could’ve never made a whirlwind romance with a rockstar work out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

chapter three 😌

hope yall liked it, chapter four will be a time skip! might take a while as I want to map the rest of the story out properly y’know, be ANGSTY as possible 😏

my scared of intimacy ass writing this chapter lmao

any ideas or criticisms are welcome with in the comments or my inbox!!

taglist -@princesspagey @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @dreamersdrowse ask me if you would like to be added :))

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[aloysiavirgata]

Love’s Austere and Lonely Offices

Title:  Love’s Austere and Lonely Offices

Author: Aloysia Virgata

Rating: PG 

Words: 5758

Timeline: Season 9

Summary:   “ A letter is in fact the only device for combining solitude and good company.” -- Jacques Barzun

Author’s Notes: This fic was written in 2015. I couldn't bear the thought of their only communication in all that time being the "Dearest Dana" letters. (Which I added to just a teeny-weeny bit. Also added a little to Scully's Carterlogue to William.) Scully quotes from (what else?) Moby Dick and Mulder from The Divine Comedy. The title is from Those Winter Sundays by Robert Hayden. 

Fe3O4 is magnetite and R2NCl is chloramine. I know my little ads are cryptic, so there's an addendum at the end for those interested parties. (See the end of the work for more notes.)  

Ad placed in the New York Times Classified section, May 26 2001 In this world, shipmates, Sin that pays its way can travel freely, and without a passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers. R2NCl + H2O = Bellefleur + Braddock Heights? So claims a woman with node at C5 **** Ad placed in the Washington Post Classified section, May 29 2001 These have not the hope to die. Developments? Nothing on my end. **** E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 18 Jun 2001 Things are calm for now and hopefully communication can be somewhat regular for a time. I have a cash-under-the-table job at the moment and it covers basic needs. I know you wanted to come, but this is no life for a child. I will be home as soon as I am able. I know that goes without saying, but it makes me feel better to say it anyway. I have to go now. Tell me about William. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 18 Jun 2001 Mulder, It's so good to hear from you, you have no idea. Have you made any progress yet? There have been strange goings-on since you left, but I don't know what to make of any of it. I don't know whom to trust right now and just tell everyone I cannot contact you. I have not been able to make any sense of my last inquiry and am at a standstill. Please tell me everything you discover and let me know what I can do. Don't leave me in the dark on this, Mulder. You can't protect us that way. Let me be of use. Things are fine here. William eats well and sleeps less well, but I nap when I can. He's growing nicely and can focus his eyes for very long periods already and tracks objects at two feet away. His head control is excellent and he is already making deliberate reaches for objects rather than just grasping reflexively. He makes a gurgling sound if I run my finger up the midline of his foot. In addition to snapshots and videos, I have been keeping a journal of all of his changes for when you get back. My mother helps as much as she can but the truth is I prefer to be alone. She wants to talk, and doesn't understand that I just can't right now. I think she's afraid of the quiet and fills it up with noise. She talks to me but doesn't say anything. You know how to let me be silent, Mulder. I miss that. Frohike says William looks like me and Byers says he looks like you and Langly says he looks like Jack Ruby. Which is pretty much what you'd expect to hear from the three of them. Write when you can. Pictures attached. **** E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 22 Jun 2001 He still looks like Skinner to me, your feeble protestations of fidelity aside. He's got your eyes, Scully, and I wonder whose warped sense of humor he's going to claim. I'm not surprised he's ahead of the developmental curve. You read him Brian Greene while you were pregnant. That sets the bar rather high for a baby. Let your mother in. You're all she has nearby and she won't forgive herself for everything that's happened if you don't. Smile and nod, Scully. You do it better than anyone I know. Learn to let people love you. I haven't found much yet because I don't even know what the hell I'm looking for. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 23 Jun 2001 We can only hope that his sense of humor is all his own. I think our particular brand of amusement wouldn't go over too well with the preschool set. Can you imagine Career Day, Mulder? We're going to have to be vague. Pictures of William attached, including one of him eating my hair. Have to run. Stay safe. **** E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 28 Jun 2001 We'd be a hit at Career Day. You could tell them about your Invisible Guy Autopsy. And you know all the kids would want to hear about my time in low orbit. I'm leaving here soon, so it may be a while before I contact you again. Thank you for the pictures. I cannot believe how William has grown. He looks like his own man now instead of just a newborn. I know I once said I never saw you as a mother before, but I must not have been paying attention. You're beautiful, Scully. I miss you both constantly. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 29 Jun 2001 Mulder, I hope nothing serious has happened to necessitate this move and that you have made some headway. I am still having no luck. I'm going to start teaching at Quantico soon. I feel like I'm abandoning you in some way, Mulder. Abandoning our work. But I can't do field work like I used to - not with William - and Doggett and Reyes are doing a good job. I think you'd be impressed. William has been going to sleep at around 10 at night and sleeping until 6 or so. He is such an easy baby and already a hit with the ladies. I bring him to work sometimes and he's quite popular. Skinner gave him a stuffed McGruff the Crime Dog, but he prefers the doll you gave him and sleeps with it now. He's still rather small for the basketball, but that was never my sport anyway. I played field hockey, so free-throw instruction falls to you. Attached is a video of William laying on Skinner's desk. Stay safe. **** E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 19 Jul 2001 He spit up on Skinner's desk? I could watch that all day. You're damned lucky it wasn't Kersh's or you'd be freezing your ass off in a Minnesota field office right now. And of course he's a hit with the ladies, Scully. Not everyone's as hard of a sell on the Mulder men as you. I made it to Wal-Mart and printed out some of those pictures you sent. Keep them coming. Don't ever feel like you're abandoning the work. The most important thing is that you and William stay safe and chasing mutants and government conspirators isn't really conducive to that. Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that you're okay. The job at Quantico will be good for you both. I'm doing a little air guitar of "Hot For Teacher" right now… **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 23 Jul 2001 Mulder, I'm sorry it has taken me a bit to get back to you. My mother and I took William to the beach for a couple of days. I dipped his feet in the surf and I was reminded that seawater has a similar chemical makeup to both blood and amniotic fluid. We crawled from those primordial seas so many millions of years ago and carry some of it inside of us to this day. I know you get seasick, but I think we are hardwired to crave the ocean and I want to take William sailing when he's older. I think he has the genes for it. You may not be a sailor, Mulder, but you know the unquenchable lure of the unknown and thrill of riding out a storm. I had a good time with my mom and tried to do as you suggested. She asked after you and I am confident that whatever else she thinks of my life, she accepts that you're an integral part of it. I start teaching next month and I must confess to some anxiety. It has been so long since I stood in front of a lecture hall. I've gotten used to an audience of one for my technical soliloquies. And Van Halen, Mulder? Really? What happened to the King? **** E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 4 Aug 2001 Was it Chincoteague, Scully? It's right around Pony Penning Day, isn't it? When he's bigger we'll get a place out in the country and let him pick out a pony of his own. And hell, I'll take some Dramamine and we'll all go sailing too. Get out your list-making paper and get to work. I'll be back soon and we'll have the rest of our lives to get it done. P.S. - I always kind of got turned on by your technical soliloquies, so you may want to be careful around some of your more discriminating students. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 5 Aug 2001 Mulder, We went to Assateague, actually, but he did see the ponies and we found horseshoe crabs washed up on the shore. Despite 445 million years of existence, they've scarcely changed at all. It makes you think, I suppose. All the work we humans do to better ourselves and horseshoe crabs have attained perfection. And a pony?! That's a pretty heavy upgrade from your fish. I was thinking we could move more slowly from Cyprinidae to Perissodactyla. Perhaps a stop at Rodentia would be appropriate if you want to venture into mammalian territory. (Are you getting turned on by this?) William holds his head up and looks around without any trouble at all. He wants desperately to sit up and is so frustrated that he can't manage it yet. Any news? **** Ad placed in the Washington Post Classified section, August 13, 2001 For where the instrument of intelligence is added to brute power and evil will, mankind is powerless in its own defense. Fe3O4 + R2NCl = ? **** Ad placed in the New York Times Classified section, August 15, 2001 And some certain significance lurks in all things, else all things are little worth... I'll let you know if I hear anything. **** E-Mail From: knitterific@earthlink.net To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 20 Aug 2001 Let me know if we can move lunch on Wednesday to 12:30. I printed out pictures from our trip and made you some copies. I will bring William's Celeste Sun toy with me at lunch if that's okay with you. Charlie, Larissa and the kids are coming in for Christmas this year. Talk to you soon. Mom **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: knitterific@earthlink.net Date: 21 Aug 2001 Mom, That would be fine. Thank you for printing the pictures for me, and William will be fine without Celeste until Wednesday. **** Letter received on September 8, 2001 William Mulder 107 E. Cordova St. Apt. 35 Washington, DC., 01833 8-14-01 Dear William, I can only hope this finds its way to you but even if it doesn't, it's something I had to get on paper. Walking away from you and your mother is the single most difficult thing I have ever done in my life. I did it for reasons that I tell myself are right and noble, so why do I feel like I've let you both down? All I want is for you to be safe and I tell myself that leaving and searching for answers is the best way to do that. But the truth is, William, that your old man isn't making much headway here. Your mother sends me pictures and videos of you and sometimes at night I can close my eyes and recall your new-earthling smell. But it's not the same. I know your mother and I know that every night she shows you my picture and tells you I'll be home soon. I don't want to make a liar of her and I promise you both I'm doing the best I can. Every day I fight the urge to let this all go and come home, but I feel I have more to accomplish before I return. One day I hope you will understand all of this. One day I hope I will. I have no real wisdom to offer you, but let me at least tell you this. I have made many mistakes in my life, but through them all, I have tried to do what I feel is honest. And I have learned - as you doubtlessly will - that the right thing is not often the easy thing. I don't know what this world is going to be like when you are older or what role you will have in it, but to thine own self be true, William. I hope to see you soon. And in case your mother forgets to tell you: Elvis > Three Dog Night Hips before hands The Knicks will always be better than the Miami Heat Love, Your father **** E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 12 Sep 2001 Scully, let me know you're okay. I know you don't work at the Pentagon, but please check in. On the move again, but will write as soon as possible. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 13 Sep 2001 Mulder, We are fine and no one we know was hurt. While it feels as though the world is falling apart, knowing you're okay gives me something to hang on to. There's a long line of people waiting for this computer so I must run, but I got your letter to William. Be careful. We miss you. **** Ad placed in the New York Times Classified section, September 17, 2001 There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair we call life when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke… Quantum suicide? **** Ad placed in the Washington Post Classified section, September 18, 2001 And downward to the secret things we went Biloxi MI - 6/ 86 Camden NJ - 11/91 **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 20 Sep 2001 Mulder, Thank you for your help on the case. Do you have any updates on your end? Not much to tell here. I'm enjoying teaching very much; the students are so engaged and interested. It's a nice change from the endless parade of world-weary cops and agents. Were we ever that fresh-faced and eager? Thinking of you and aching to see you. **** E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 23 Sep 2001 It is no longer safe for me to contact you. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 24 Sep 2001 Mulder, What's going on? Please find a way to let me know what's happening. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 13 Oct 2001 Mulder, William and I baked a cake and we sang Happy Birthday to your picture. We went shopping for presents and William picked out an oven mitt. I tried to steer him towards the Yankees DVD collection, but he was adamant that you needed protective gear. I have begun to entertain theories of genetic memory. Please let us know you're all right. Many happy returns of the day. **** E-Mail From: rocbronzin@rutgers.edu To: dana_scully@fbi.gov Date: 17 Oct 2001 Hey there partner. Wanted to thank you again for the CPR. They don't really cover that in entomology doctoral programs though, so I'm hard pressed to return the favor. I know you're a mother but I assume you still eat so let me know if you want to grab a bite next time I'm in DC. **** E-Mail From: dana_scully@fbi.gov To: rocbronzin@rutgers.edu Date: 19 Oct 2001 Dr. Bronzino, Thank you very much for the offer, but it would not be appropriate at this time. Dana Scully **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 25 Oct 2001 Mulder, I know you can't tell me where you are and I am trying to respect what you're doing but this feels impossible sometimes. Not everything has to be a crusade, does it? You wanted to find your sister and while it wasn't the resolution you wanted, you found out the truth. Isn't that enough? We can have a life now. We have a son who needs both of his parents. Let this go, Mulder. **** E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 4 Nov 2001 Mulder, I don't even know why I'm writing this. I don't even know if you're alive. Attached are pictures of William in his Halloween costume. He went as a skunk and can sit up perfectly. **** Ad placed in the New York Times Classified section, November 21, 2001 Lost: Norwegian Elkhound Answers to Heinrich Come home, Heinrich We miss you ****                                        

                                                                                     December 3, 2001

Mulder,

I am so concerned for your safety right now that it is overwhelming. I am trying not to be angry with you - truly I am - but it isn't easy. I know what you've told me, I know we discussed all of this and I know we agreed it was for the best, but the reality is proving far different than the theory. As a scientist, I ought to have expected it and yet I was completely blindsided.

I asked you once years ago if we could just get out of the car and you looked at me like I was crazy and you kept driving. And I stayed. Hundreds of thousands of miles I've traveled with you, Mulder. Endless black ribbons of highways full of nightmares and lost souls and we went after them with badges and guns because we had a job to do.

But I'm asking you now - not as your partner, but as the mother of your child - to get out of the goddamned car. I can't live like this anymore, Mulder, and I will not subject William to it.

I love you but I cannot do this for the rest of my life.

I have nowhere to send this letter.

****

                                                                                                                             December 15, 2001

Mulder,

William said "Da" when he saw your picture today. I have a video.

****

E-Mail From: phishphood66@yahoo.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 20 Dec 2001

Hey Danes -

Our gang's catching an earlier flight from Puerto Vallarta and I wanted to see if you'd be free for dinner. I'm trusting you to pick a not-shitty restaurant because last time I left it up to Bill he said he knew of a "really good Italian place" and took us to the fucking Olive Garden and I swear to God Tara put some of those breadsticks in her purse.

Can't wait to meet my new nephew (you have a kid, Danes!) and see if either of my rugrats is taller than you yet. They're growing like weeds and Larissa's firm is keeping us in Mexico until the resort's finished, so they're all sun-kissed and blonde and I'm mostly a giant freckle.

Mom specifically told me not to ask about William's father, so I'm asking. This Fox guy…what's up with him? Is he good to you? Bill paints him as a kind of Anton LeVay meets Forrest Gump character, but Bill thinks condoms are Satan's party balloons, so what the hell does he know about relationships?

I'm bringing a case of fine champanya to ring in the new year.

Charlie

****

E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: phishphood66@yahoo.com Date: 20 Dec 2001

Charlie,

I can't wait to see you all! It's been far too long since your jet-setting crew has ventured this way. Things with William's father are complicated, but it's due to factors beyond either of our control. I don't mean to be curt, but that's all I can say right now.

Dinner would be great. William still doesn't go to bed until fairly late and can be kept happy with a steady supply of food. He has an excellent pincer grasp.

Did Bill really take you to the Olive Garden? That's classic.

****

                                                                                                                             December 31, 2001

Mulder,

We celebrated Christmas at my mother's and Bill and Charlie and their families flew in. I have lots of pictures to show you of all of the kids together. William is babbling like a champion and I gave him a crayon to draw a picture for you on the back of this card, so turn it over. I remember New Year's Eve two years ago. Zombies, Mulder. And then you kissed me and here I am wishing maybe the world had ended after all because I'm remembering zombies with fondness and what the hell is wrong with my life and my God I miss you.

There was half a bottle of champagne left and now I'm drunk.

Happy New Year

Putting this card with your other unsent mail.

****

                                                                                                                                 January 1, 2002 Dear William,

One day, you'll ask me to speak of a truth - of the miracle of your birth. To explain what is unexplained. And if I falter or fail on this day, know there is an answer, my child, a sacred imperishable truth, but one you may never hope to find alone. Chance meeting your perfect other, your perfect opposite, your protector and endangerer. Chance embarking with this other on the greatest of journeys; a search for truths fugitive and imponderable. If one day this chance may befall you, my son, do not fail or falter to seize it. The truths are out there. And if one day you should behold a miracle, as I have in you, you will learn the truth is not found in science, or on some unseen plane, but by looking into your own heart. And in that moment you will be blessed - and stricken. For the truest truths are what hold us together, or keep us painfully, desperately apart.

Know this, William, for it is the most important thing I can hope to teach you: It is not a weakness to love someone. There may come a time when it will be the only strength you have.

****

E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 07 Jan 2002

Dearest Dana

I've resisted contacting you for reasons I know you continue to appreciate. But, to be honest, some unexpected dimensions of my new life are eating away at any resolve I have left. I'm lonely, Dana, uncertain of my ability to live like this. I want to come home. To you, and to William.

****

E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 07 Jan 2002

I am physically shaking right now seeing your words - wishing it were you speaking them to me. I want so badly to see you too, but you are still not safe here. You don't sound like yourself, Mulder, and it's frightening me.

Where in the world have you been?

****

E-Mail From: Trust_No1@mail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 07 Jan 2002

I've seen things I cannot accept and don't know how to change. I feel like the fight has gone out of me and all I want is to come back and put this time behind us.

I will be home soon.

Details to follow in the usual manner.

****

Ad placed in the Washington Post Classified section, January 8, 2002

It was evening here But upon earth the very noon of night.

ncrl

****

E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 10 Jan 2002

Mulder,

I hold no hope you can respond to this. Or that it reaches you. I only hope that you are alive.

I cannot help believing that you jumped off that train because you knew what I now know - that these "super-soldiers" - if that's what they are - can in fact be destroyed. That the key to their destruction lies in the iron compound at that quarry.

I am scared for you, Mulder. And for William. The forces against us are unrelenting. But so is my determination to see you again. To regain the comfort and safety we shared for so brief a time. Until then, I remain forever yours,

Dana

****

Ad placed in the New York Times Classified section, January 14, 2002

The whale, like all things that are mighty, wears a false brow to the common world.

Fe3O4

****

Letter received on January 27, 2002

Dana Scully 107 E. Cordova St. Apt. 35 Washington, DC., 01833

1-16-02

Not much time to write Sorry so short saw your note Agreed on Fe3O3 though not sure how yet Love to you both

****

                                                                                                                            February 2, 2002

Mulder,

I got your last letter and nearly wept with relief to hear from you. I hope this can all end soon. I pray you stay safe until then.

Not sure what the weather is like where you are, but the most beautiful snow has fallen here. William and I have been playing in it at every opportunity and there's a respectable snowman in front of my building now. William likes to eat the snow and blinks when the flakes cling to his eyelashes. He looks more like you every day.

I send regards from Skinner and the Gunmen and my mother lights candles for you.

I wish I had an address to send this to.

****

E-Mail From: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com To: Trust_No1@mail.com Date: 11 Feb 2002

Mulder,

I am hesitant to contact you in this way because I know it is a risk, but I am beginning to fear the worst for William. I don't know what he is but someone does and they are trying to hurt him. I have been working with Reyes and we suspect it all goes back to that artifact I found in Africa, though I can't say I truly understand it. My mother says our son is a miracle and that I must simply accept him as that. But how can I do that, Mulder? After what happened to Emily, how can I not want to know how he came to be whatever he is?

William has been taken from me twice now and I am starting to despair of ever being able to protect him. All the sacrifices we're making right now - what if it comes to nothing? I don't know what to do.

****

E-Mail From: MAILER-DAEMON@n55.bullet.mail.sp1.hotmail.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 11 Feb 2002

Sorry, we were unable to deliver your message to the following address.

< trust_no1@mail.com >

****

Ad placed in the Washington Post Classified section, February 23, 2002

O lady, you in whom my hope gains strength, you who, for my salvation, have allowed your footsteps to be left in Hell, in all the things that I have seen, I recognize the grace and benefit that I, depending upon your power and goodness, have received. You drew me out from slavery to freedom by all those paths, by all those means that were within your power. Do, in me, preserve your generosity, so that my soul, which you have healed, when it is set loose from my body, be a soul that you will welcome.

****

Ad placed in the New York Times Classified section, February 24, 2002

Let faith oust fact; let fancy oust memory; I look deep down and do believe.

****

Ad placed in the New York Times Classified section, March 20, 2002

All men live enveloped in whale-lines. All are born with halters round their necks; but it is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death, that mortals realize the silent, subtle, ever-present perils of life.

Gunmen dead.

****

E-Mail From: dana_scully@fbi.gov To: john_doggett@fbi.gov Date: 26 Mar 2002

John,

My thoughts are with you and Barbara at this time. Take care.

Dana Scully

****

E-Mail From: john_doggett@fbi.gov To: dana_scully@fbi.gov Date: 26 Mar 2002

Thanks Dana. It's been hard but the closure has come as a relief after all this time. I hope you are coming to terms with your own loss as well. They were the good guys.

John Doggett

****

                                                                                                                          April 20, 2002

Mulder,

I have come to an act of desperation. I have had no way of contacting you - no way to talk this over with you - and so I had to make this choice alone. I have had assurances that our information is to be expunged from every record and I tell myself moment by moment that this is his only chance at a normal life, but what if I have made a mistake that can never be undone?

I vacillate between thinking I have sacrificed my own happiness for his and thinking I have sacrificed him because I am not strong enough to accept what he is. What if that's the case? What if I was just too afraid to see him suffer? Watching Emily die slowly through the glass left me so cold I thought I'd freeze everything I touched, but I didn't know how to grieve for her. They had no right to take those ova from me, no right to create her, and no right to destroy her. She was supposed to be mine and whatever other children were created should have been mine also. But by the time I came to terms with the fact that I was truly her mother, she was already gone. What if the same fate was in store for William? I don't know that I could have stood it.

All I wanted was a child - your child, as the years went on - and I just cannot understand why anyone would create these lives for the express purpose of later destroying them. I don't think we can ever fully know what William means to the Project, but they wanted him dead, Mulder. They wanted to take our son and kill him and would have in time and came close even as I watched over him, and all this before he turned a year old. Jeffrey Spender came to me - terrible things have been done to him - and said that no matter what he did to undo the changes to his little body, William would never have any peace from the men who have been working towards the ends you and I have been fighting.

I believed him, Mulder. I looked into his ruined face and I believe he was telling me the truth and I believe it still. I did the only thing I could think of to protect our son and I can only hope now that you can forgive me.

I don't know what else to do but keep going. It's all I've ever known how to do.

****

E-Mail From: wjscully8@navy.mil To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 22 Apr 2002

Dana, what in the hell have you done? Pick up your goddamned phone.

I just got off the phone with mom a little while ago and she's half-hysterical and I'm not far from it myself. What were you thinking? You put your son up for adoption, Dana? That really struck you as the best possible solution? That's what you have a family for. To help you. And no matter how bad things were you should have come to us. I don't know what has happened to you over the years and I don't think I even know who you are anymore, because my sister would never have done something so insane.

We could have taken him in for you if you couldn't deal with being a single mother. God knows where Fox is and why you put up with the crap he dishes out is beyond me, but he has molded you into a woman I don't recognize and I think there is something severely wrong with both of you.

I have faith that you are not beyond salvation, Dana, but you need to cut your ties with him. Come out to San Diego and stay with us. I have already contacted an attorney about having the adoption reversed and because of the extreme emotional duress you've been under he thinks there's a very good shot that Tara and I can get temporary custody while you get your life back together.

It's not too late for you. We love you and want to help, but you have to let us. I am praying for you.

Your brother,

Bill

****

E-Mail From: phishphood66@yahoo.com To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 22 Apr 2002

Hey Squirt. Just got an earful from Bill. Mom's too freaked out to be coherent.

I don't know what the fuck is up with you the past few years Danes, but the shit seems to have royally hit the fan of your life. Despite what Bill thinks, you were always the smartest one of us and if this is what you thought was right, well, I guess I have to trust that. I'm just so sorry that you're dealing with this.

We're moving to Marrakech in June for a restaurant Larissa's designing and we have this awesome house with plenty of room for decompressing Feds. Take some leave and come stay for a while.

Worried about you, big sister.

Charlie

****

E-Mail From: knitterrific@earthlink.net To: Queequeg0925@hotmail.com Date: 24 Apr 2002

Dana, I am so worried about you and I think you might need some professional help. Please return my calls. We need to talk.

I love you.

Mom

****

E-Mail From: monica_reyes@fbi.gov To: dana_scully@fbi.gov Date: 25 Apr 2002

Dana

Please call if you ever need to talk. I am here for you.

Monica

****

E-Mail From: d_scully@fbi.gov To: m_reyes9@fbi.gov Date: 25 Apr 2002

Monica,

Thank you for your concern. I'm going to be fine. I will be back to work on Monday.

****

E-Mail From: j_doggett3@fbi.gov To: d_scully@fbi.gov Date: 25 Apr 2002

I hope this finds you well. Just wanted to see how you were doing.

John Doggett  

****

E-Mail From: d_scully@fbi.gov To: j_doggett3@fbi.gov Date: 25 Apr 2002

John,

Thank you for your concern. I'm going to be fine. I will be back to work on Monday.

****

E-Mail From: reits@clinicalassociates.com To: dana_scully@fbi.gov Date: 9 May 2002

Dr. Scully,

My name is John Reits and I am a parapsychologist. I'd like to meet with you concerning a former patient of mine. Please contact me at this address or give me a call at 714-555-0146.

****

E-Mail From: walter_skinner@fbi.gov To: dana_scully@fbi.gov Date: 19 May 2002

Scully -

Do you ever answer your phone anymore? I need to see you in my office at once. Drop what you are doing and get over here now.

It's about Mulder.

****

The End

****

Notes:

Addendum:

R2NCl + H2O = Bellefleur + Braddock Heights? So claims a woman with node at C5

The Warrior Princess Super-Soldier chick had a node on the back of her neck (around the C5 vertebra) and had informed Scully that chloramine was being introduced into the water supply to transform the populace into super-soldiers. Scully was reminded of the water tampering in Braddock Heights (Wetwired).

****

Fe3O4 + R2NCl = ?

Mulder has discovered evidence of a connection between chloramine and magnetite, but isn't sure what it is.

****

Quantum suicide?

Scully's hoping to get some help on the case from 4D. Quantum suicide - as it pertains to the many-worlds interpretation and the case - encompasses the idea that all moments (however unlikely) with possibilities of occurrence greater than zero are experienced in some dimension.

Mulder's reply is just directing her to some related case files. Which I made up.

****

It was evening here But upon earth the very noon of night.

ncrl

Mulder's train will arrive at the New Carrollton train station at midnight

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

Young Griff, Part 1: The Pisswater Prince

So, I know I haven't done a super deep dive in a while. I kinda got stuck, then binged Sense8, The OA, The Americans, and Dark. It just got hard to write, and I feel into a bit of depression. But I finally managed to complete this, something I've wanted to write about for a very long time. This is part of the Daenerys essays, but the main focus is not on her, but rather the enigmatic Young Griff who appears in ADWD. As he was never seen on the TV show, we have little to no idea of what his future holds. Personally, of all the characters cut from the show, I most wish they kept Young Griff, because his presence is quite interesting. The fandom (and the in-world characters) are highly skeptical of his identity, and think he is destined for major things in the future of the story.

There is no doubt his existence is tied heavily to Daenerys's storyline, although perhaps not the way that is often recognized. This was originally going to just be one long essay, but I uncovered more and more that I found compelling enough to write, and so it became split into two parts. The first part will be about Aegon's role in the story; his identity, what he represents, why he is here. The second part will be about Aegon's future; his next moves in the Stormlands, possible allies, and how he might meet his end.

The Dubious Prince

What's curious is that apparently, Aegon's return has been considered by GRRM for quite a while. A mere 2 days before the publishing of ASOS, in 2000, GRRM was asked a question by a fan:

Fan: I was wondering if you could answer (or take the "fifth") one teeny little question I've been dying to ask for the past year: Are Aegon and Rhaenys, Elia's children, well and truly dead? GRRM: All I have to say is that there is absolutely no doubt that little Princess Rhaenys was dragged from beneath her father's bed and slain.

And then when ADWD is published in 2011, it is revealed that in fact, Aegon isn't dead, but secretly alive. This is something that was actually rumoured in Westeros, according to this entry of Aegon VI in A World of Ice and Fire app:

Rumors persist, however, that it was not truly Aegon who was killed, but some other infant, and that Aegon has been taken away to safety.

Aegon literally tells Tyrion the story of how he was whisked away to safety:

"That was not me. I told you. That was some tanner's son from Pisswater Bend whose mother died birthing him. His father sold him to Lord Varys for a jug of Arbor gold. He had other sons but had never tasted Arbor gold. Varys gave the Pisswater boy to my lady mother and carried me away."

It's certainly a great story, that Aegon return from the dead, living in Essos waiting for the chance to take back his birthright. The fact Aegon is still alive is truly a miracle... but is he? Is this young boy who purports to be Aegon really Prince Aegon, son of Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia? One of the most pervasive fan theories is that Aegon isn't a Targaryen at all, but secretly a Blackfyre, descended from the Targaryen bastard Daemon Blackfyre who rebelled and tried to become king (the Blackfyres are still Targaryens but don't tell them that).

It's such a popular theory that it is considered all but canon, as much as R+L=J is. Now, time for me to commit heresy: I do not buy this theory at all.

For those not in the know, some have pointed out potential circumstantial evidence of Aegon being a Blackfyre; he's supported by the Golden Company, a sellsword company that was made for the Blackfyres and ruled by them until Maelys died on the Stepstones. Dany sees a vision of a cloth dragon swaying on a pole in the House of the Undying, as the Undying call her the "slayer of lies". There is mention of Maelys being the end of male line of House Blackfyre, but no mention of what happened to the female line. There is a story about an inn that had a black dragon made of iron symbolizing the Blackfyres, and after Lord Darry (a Targaryen supporter in the Blackfyre rebellions) took it off, cut it apart, and threw it into the river, one piece showed up years later on the Quiet Isle, having reddened with rust (potentially symbolizing a Blackfyre returning disguised as a Targaryen). Illyrio is oddly emotional when talking about Aegon. Plus the entirety of the Pisswater Prince story sounds really out there and unlikely.

At first glance, I found this theory really compelling. There is all this subtext and reading behind the lines that you didn't see before, and on some level it makes some sense. Why introduce another secret Targaryen in book 5 out of 7 (8)? It also fits neatly with another theory I will talk about more in depth later. However, while it isn't a theory I think is necessarily 100% inaccurate and completely out there, I think it doesn't account for alternatives, and ultimately is an unnecessary plot twist.

The support of the Golden Company isn't all that suspect when you consider just what's been happening since Maelys died. The male line of House Blackfyre is over (who knows what happened to the female line), the Blackfyres no longer rule the Golden Company, they are gone. The Golden Company was also founded by Westerosi exiles who fled Westeros and supported the Blackfyres. The fact the Golden Company broke its contract with Myr and that "some contracts are writ in blood" more has to do with the fact that these people are mostly descendants of Westerosi exiles and want to return home. The idea of the Golden Company wasn't really to be a permanent thing, it was meant to be a means through which the Blackfyres had support when they invaded again, and when the Blackfyres were installed, those exiled lords would get their lost lands back.

With the Blackfyre cause gone, the only thing left for the Golden Company is home. And that's exactly what Aegon is giving them, regardless of him being Targaryen. The slayer of lies visions are implying Daenerys is going to be confronting people who are in some way not true. Stannis (who is the first vision) is not Azor Ahai. This probably means that the cloth dragon represents a fake Targaryen, and in comes Aegon, out of nowhere! The first issue I have is that the vision has to be literal. Prophecies are very tricky, and the House of the Undying prophecies are extremely finicky. What does slayer of lies mean? Does it mean she literally kills the lies? Is it more metaphorical that she exposes people to the truth? And if Aegon really is a true Targaryen, then why is he the mummer's dragon and considered a lie to slay?

Disregarding the fact Varys was a mummer and he is working for Aegon, even if Aegon is a Targaryen, it's very obvious that they need to do a lot to convince people he is one. He has to play the part of Rhaegar's son, because everyone thinks he is dead. Meanwhile, Daenerys has to do literally nothing of the sort, because she has dragons. She embodies what it means to be a Targaryen, she is about to embrace her house words. As Illyrio tells Tyrion, Daenerys is a true Targaryen. But Aegon doesn't have dragons, so he needs to play up his Targness in some other way. Rhaegar was called the Last Dragon. Viserys called himself a Dragon. Aegon is about to try to take Rhaegar's place. But neither Rhaegar, Viserys, or Aegon are the Last Dragon; Daenerys is, and the lie is that he is the last dragon, and that Dany's existence itself is the way she slays the lie. As Dany thinks to herself after Viserys dies, "fire cannot kill a dragon".

Look at Aegon being someone piggybacking off words and looks for his claims. Meanwhile, Daenerys has all the proof one needs. I think the vision is much more esoteric than literal. While Varys's story is suspect and even Tyrion finds it unbelievable, it's not entirely impossible. Hell, Mance Rayder climbed the Wall and went to Winterfell in disguise as a bard twice. It makes sense for Varys to take away Aegon and replace him with another child during Robert's rebellion, when things were going badly for the Targaryens and plans had to be made in case the worst came to worst.

Another popular interpretation is that Illyrio and his wife Serra are Aegon's real son, but I find this to be incredibly flawed. Not only does Serra not really look much like a Targaryen (blue eyes instead of purple), but Illyrio's somewhat emotional confession that he can't see Aegon before he drops Tyrion off doesn't mean he is the boys father. The idea that you need to be someones parent in order to have a strong connection completely holds disregard for other kinds of relationships. Aegon is implied to have been raised for at least a bit in Pentos. Illyrio probably felt some affection for him and genuinely enjoyed his company.

To me, however, it's not really the alternative explanations for the evidence of a Blackfyre conspiracy that convince me Aegon is in fact Rhaegar's son. It's rather simple; what's the point of yet another secret identity plot twist? Consider how we meet Aegon. We meet him through Tyrion's POV in his third chapter, under the guise of the son of a sellsword named Griff, called Young Griff, his hair dyed blue in honour of his dead Tyroshi mother. Tyrion is immediately suspicious, but he's not entirely sure what's going on. We then get two more chapters of him aboard the Shy Maid, and during that time we are meant to be a little confused and unsure what is going on. It's a mystery of why Tyrion is on this boat and who these people are.

By the third chapter of Tyrion on the Shy Maid, the mystery is finally lifted, and all is revealed; Griff isn't Griff, he's Jon Connington, an exiled lord thought to have drunken himself to death. And Young Griff isn't his son; he's Prince Rhaegar's son Aegon, who was thought to have been killed by the Mountain in Robert's Rebellion. I think it's important to remember that it isn't just Aegon who is thought to be dead. JonCon is considered dead too! Two dead people aboard a boat plotting to retake Westeros. We already had a mystery handed to us, and the plot twist was already revealed. Another thing to consider is how thematically and symbolically important the journey down the Rhoyne is for Aegon. To me I think it makes a lot of sense for Rhaegar and Elia's son to be on the Rhoyne, especially since there is a lot of evidence that he and Dorne will eventually ally.

It's also important to remember that apart from a very few sly people, Aegon being secretly alive wasn't even a possibility on most peoples radar. It truly was something that came out of nowhere. While that can be used as a marker against him being Rhaegar's son, with the complaints of such a large character being revealed so late with seemingly no forewarning, I think that's honestly sort of the point.

Aegon's existence is already so large of a twist that it feels awkward to then put in another plot twist that he's actually a Blackfyre, something that really only has significance to the people who have read the Dunk & Egg novellas and know the history of Westeros very well. Although not entirely the same, it reminds me of "the Others are actually morally grey/the good guys" theories, which are in a similar vein of "George is always subversive and this is classic George". However, while the text does sort of lend credence to this theory being at the very most plausible, I feel it's ultimately an unnecessary plot twist built upon another seemingly unnecessary plot twist to try to justify his late entry and/or his significance (as can be noted, I detest calling him fAegon). The plot for Aegon isn't to be uncovered as this secret conspiracy of another ultra-double secret identity, it's about what his existence does to change the story.

Young Griff, Daenerys Stormborn, and Jon Snow

A large part of why the Blackfyre conspiracy theory is so popular is that it actually does have a compelling narrative link to the series. It's a simple progression; there are hints at a second Dance of the Dragons, vision of a mummer's dragon, a fake Targaryen, boom, Dany and Aegon fight. Dany thinks her claim is the best, but then someone appears who has an even better claim, and she fights thinking there's no possible way he could be real. It's an easy to follow trajectory. As always, people are welcome to disagree with my interpretation, but I think there is a far better reason for Aegon's role in the story; he's more foreshadowing for R+L=J.

For certain, there's more to him than just that, but I think this is something that simply cannot be ignored. He's another Targaryen. Yeah, it's kind of a meme to say X is a secret Targaryen, but I actually see the logic in why GRRM did this. Jon Snow is the son of Rhaegar and Lyanna, and most likely is a trueborn prince. He is the one destined to have an extremely significant relationship with Daenerys. I plan to eventually write an essay on how R+L=J effects the characters and story by itself, but for preface; I don't buy that R+L=J is there just to make Jon have an identity crisis. Something as significant as that is going to have a lot of consequences and reasons to be around, some more than others. I do think there will be people who will learn the truth and at the very least, some people will believe it.

This is where Aegon's appearance becomes more significant. Here is a Targaryen people had no idea even existed, let alone was still alive. It kinda opens the floodgates for the world to question what is known about Robert's Rebellion. It also serves as precedent for the reveal that Jon Snow reveal. One Targaryen we didn't know existed is suddenly here. Is there another nearby? You can't simplify such a complex plot quite that easily of course, but I think it's significant to think about how the Young Griff twist applies to the story as a whole, and specifically RLJ. George maybe thought of this as the initial purpose for Young Griff, but as per usual, he definitely has other reasons to exist.

In fact, Aegon is a perfect foil for Jon Snow. Both are the son of Rhaegar, both are disguised as someone else, both are thrusted into a leadership position at a young age. However, Jon is unaware of his true parentage, while Aegon is. Jon is reluctant to embrace his identity in general (especially as lord commander) while Aegon is embracing his identity to his fullest extent. In a way, Aegon represents what Jon's life could have become in a parallel world. Instead of being taken as Ned's bastard to Winterfell, he is educated and taught his role and origin in Essos as plotting begins for retaking Westeros. Aegon is literally parallel universe Jon Snow.

Aegon is also a foil for Daenerys (who in turn is a parallel to Jon Snow). Daenerys grew up poor, constantly visiting nobles in the Free Cities but never getting anything in return. She was sold as a marital slave to Drogo. Her brother resented and abused her, and anything she learned she learned from Viserys, who was very unreliable. Yet she climbs up and becomes an incredibly powerful figure, and is now one of the most powerful people in the world. In contrast, Aegon was always protected, given safety, care, education, train at arms. In fact, it might be accurate to say that Aegon is actually spoiled. His interaction with Tyrion while playing cyvasse is a good indication of this. After Tyrion defeats Aegon when he follows the bad advice he gave him (making a point to not always trust people), this happens;

Young Griff jerked to his feet and kicked over the board. Cyvasse pieces flew in all directions, bouncing and rolling across the deck of the Shy Maid. "Pick those up," the boy commanded.

This is quite an extreme reaction. It even reminds Tyrion of Joffrey, and I have to agree this is a very petulant, Joffrey-like outburst. I don't believe Aegon is really anything like Joffrey, but both kids were pretty spoiled and given so much safety and care that when things don't go their way they get upset. Aegon is used to having everything given to him, and Tyrion is the first to show that he won't always win. In contrast, Daenerys has suffered some pretty severe losses; Rhaego, Drogo's khalasar, Drogo, Jorah's betrayal, etc. I have a hard time seeing Daenerys react so badly to this the way Aegon did. It also casts doubt on the speech Varys gave to Kevan as he dies that Aegon was molded to be this perfect king. He may have been raised to be that way, but the opposite might be true instead.

In fact, this might really be the true crux and core of Aegon's storyline. He's touted as the rightful king, this perfect prince who has been taught everything he needs, ready to be this hero who returns to Westeros to reclaim the throne. But Aegon is a deconstruction of that trope. He seems to have everything going for him, and is touted as this great king, but the truth is he remains relatively untested. All the privilege he has been given has only made him spoiled. The game of cyvasse he and Tyrion play is a lot more significant than I think it is given credit for, but that will be saved for part two when I go in depth about his future.

Of course, there has been a lot of pushback against the idea that Aegon is spoiled and that he's no different from Jon and Dany and that it should be expected he react like that to losing cyvasse at his age. While the cyvasse outburst doesn't mean he is going to be evil or anything, I think the context about this is important, and there is a lot more stuff I think hints that Aegon is not really the prince Varys believes him to be. Again, this will be saved for part two.

The Dragons Will Dance Again

In 2003, a fan asked George:

Hi, short question. Will we find out more about the Dance of the Dragons in future books? GRRM: The first dance or the second? The second will be the subject of a book. The first will be mentioned from time to time, I'm sure.

This is further supported by a quote by Teora Toland in the first Arianne sample chapter for TWOW:

"It is dragons." "Dragons?" said her mother. "Teora, don't be mad." "I'm not. They're coming." "How could you possibly know that?" her sister asked, with a note of scorn in her voice. "One of your little dreams?" Teora gave a tiny nod, chin trembling. "They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died."

The use of the language of dragons dancing is very noteworthy, and when connected with the SSM show in-text hints that a second Dance is indeed going to happen. Various theories include that this refers to Jon vs. Dany, Dany vs. Euron, Dany vs. Aegon, or Jon vs. Aegon. The most common theory in the fandom is Dany vs. Aegon, with Dany believing Aegon to be a fake Targaryen and refusing to acknowledge his claim to the throne. Instead of facing Cersei as in the show, Daenerys will face Aegon.

The extension of this theory is that Dorne will ally with Aegon, with an ambitious Arianne marrying Aegon, and a burnt toast Quentyn showing Daenerys's rejection, turning Dorne against Daenerys. When Daenerys invades Westeros, Aegon is to be the perfect prince while Dany plays the role of the evil Mad King's daughter. In retaliation of Dorne siding with a false Targaryen instead of a true Targaryen, Dany will burn the Water Gardens. On a narrative level it kinda does make a lot of sense. In the first Areo chapter, Doran mentions that the blood oranges are well past ripe. He has waited for his vengeance for 17 years, because he's so careful about the cost, but in the end all that waiting will do him in and the second Daenerys will burn the Water Gardens that were built for the first Daenerys.

There is just a slight problem... someone talked about the theory that Daenerys will burn the Water Gardens in the comment section of a NotABlog post, and GRRM very quickly shut it down by saying "the Water Gardens bit... uh no". Not that we needed GRRM to debunk this tired theory, it didn't make much sense in the first place since the Water Gardens hold no strategic value and burning it would mean Daenerys has to do it for no reason other than needless cruelty.

The bigger issue I have is that of Dany and Aegon even fighting in the first place. Despite everything, what a "second Dance of the Dragons" even means is incredibly vague. A Targaryen succession crisis? A Targ succession crisis leading to war? A Targaryen man fighting a Targaryen woman? Does it need to be on the same scale as the original Dance? We have no context other than this and it could mean literally anything. What's more, there is a very often overlooked SSM that kinda puts the dampers on this theory a bit;

The second Dance of Dragons does not have to mean Dany's invasion. Geroge stopped himself short and said he shouldn't say anymore. The response came because of my question of whether the dance would take place in ADWD because AFFC and ADWD parallel.

We will definitely see more of Aegon in TWOW, and we'll probably get to know him better. I'm not going to argue that Aegon appearing in book 5 of 7 is bad writing, because I don't think it necessarily is. Perhaps he won't be as major a character as the fandom believes him to be. However, if Daenerys and Aegon are going to clash, there needs to be time for the characters to interact and establish any sort of relationship. I think the idea that Dany hears of Aegon's existence and immediately thinks he is a fake and goes to war with him completely disregards both Dany's character and how you establish a tragic event like this.

The first Dance of the Dragons was not something that happened on a whim. It was the result of decades of hatred built towards two factions. They weren't always antagonistic to each other, but as the years passed, the blacks and the greens grew to hate each other more and more and more until it took the death of the king that kept them at bay to start a devastating war. Dany declaring Aegon a fake without ever having met him and going to war with him is incredibly simplistic. Also, think about it from Dany's perspective.

Viserys was an abusive asshole to her, yet she still thinks about him and even feels lonely. It's natural to want to have a family and someone to feel close with. Dany is warned about the mummer's dragon, yes, but she is also lonely and thinks all her family is dead, that she is alone in the world. So what would really happen if she learned Aegon existed? For sure there would be intense skepticism, but I think there is a part of her that will at the very least want to believe it to be true. Daenerys is very ambitious yes, but I don't think she would simply refuse to believe someone is her nephew because that means he has a better claim to the throne.

Besides, kinslaying is a huge taboo, and killing someone who claims to be her nephew without being sure is definitely going to not be the best option in her mind. And also, Aegon hasn't done anything yet to earn Dany's resentment, unlike Viserys. There might be some anger at Illyrio, some serious shock, denial even, but at the end of the day, this is one more family member she didn't know she even had. The show portrayed Jon's parentage as being a bad thing for her since he would have a better claim, but I doubt that will be the first thing on Dany's mind. In fact, she thinks to herself what would happen if Aegon was alive:

Five Aegons had ruled the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. There would have been a sixth, but the Usurper's dogs had murdered her brother's son when he was still a babe at the breast. If he had lived, I might have married him.

There is a good chance that the emotions she feels when learning about Aegon will be a precursor to the R+L=J reveal with Jon Snow. Just more reason Aegon is a big step towards R+L=J being confirmed.

Although Daenerys is quite ready to leave Slaver's Bay for Westeros at the end of ADWD, Aegon's existence might motivate her to leave even more quickly and solidify her goal to get the Iron Throne. However, I don't think that Aegon is going to become a new main character. His appearance and his actions I feel are more important than his actual character. And hey, maybe the second Dance will involved Daenerys and Aegon, but I think there is enough reason to doubt it.

Next up; the Golden Company landing, Dorne, and Aegon's game of cyvasse, detailed.

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Writer's Month 2020

Day 31: There was only one bed

I made it! This is the last story for the month. I'm glad I tried the challenge.

This one is long. It's something I've been playing around with for a while. There's a teeny bit of romantic action between the two dudes. ❤️❤️❤️

I should add that the Iggy anecdotes are things that I've read in bio books, or things he's said in interviews.

Forgot to say earlier: thanks @ledbythreads for the sanity check on this. 😁❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They faced each other on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. They were both naked and hot after what had just transpired with Alice, and as neither of them was especially modest, neither of them thought much about it.

"Did you see how Alice made her way to the bathroom? Could barely walk!" Iggy laughed his unnerving cackle. "I've never seen a groupie look so ecstatic when we walked back here. Like she'd just won the fucking lottery."

"Not so loud, Ig! This isn't the bloody locker room." Robert's admonition came in a harsh whisper. "But I am proud of my work. Always am." Robert swept his damp curls out of his face and a beamed with a big Cheshire grin.

"She should be proud of her work, too… Would've sucked my soul out, if I had one to spare." Iggy rolled his eyes backward and opened his mouth wide in an exaggerated dramatization of his climax moments before. "Thanks for inviting me back here with her. Real nice of you to share."

Robert laughed at Iggy's joking, rubber face, but the hilarity faded when he noticed how genuine Iggy's gratitude was, and how intently he was paying attention to Robert all of a sudden. There was still amusement in Iggy's eyes, but Robert swore he saw flirtation in the pouty set of Iggy's lips. He realized he found it hard to take his eyes off the devilish little dynamo at the other side of the bed. That bastard always knew how to court attention, Robert thought, having read about Stooges shows and hearing wild word-of-mouth stories from groupies he and Iggy had in common. Guerrilla tactics, on and off the stage. A pint-sized, silver-haired man-child with a heart full of napalm.

Alice emerged from the bathroom after washing up and threw on her dress. She crawled between Robert and Iggy to kiss them both before leaving to fetch her best friend Fran from the party in Bonzo's room.

Robert lay on his back with his hands behind his head. If Fran was anything like Alice, a breather was in order before round two.

Robert sighed and glanced at Iggy, who was reclining on his side. "How does it feel to be in the big leagues? Raw Power is one hell of a record, mate." After all of Robert's chattering that night about the success of Houses of the Holy, he instantly regretted how arrogant his comment must've sounded to Iggy, who had been making music for roughly as long as Led Zeppelin had been. "Sorry," Robert interjected. "What I, uh, mean to say, Ig--"

"No, I get it, Percy." Iggy saw how much the nickname irked Robert when Bonzo spoke it and decided to twist the knife in Robert a bit.

Iggy had no poker face to speak of. Robert could see the American's thoughts slowly formulating through the movement of his big, blue cartoon eyes. Barely controlled rage pivoting to wily thoughtfulness with whiplash speed. Iggy seemed very lucid tonight, which surprised Robert, who had heard horror stories about Iggy's junkie tendencies through the grapevine. He was getting a sense that an alert Iggy was the truly dangerous Iggy.

Robert didn't know whether he would be scorched by what Iggy was going to say, or if he would be impressed by Iggy stopping himself from leveling a vicious retort. Iggy was not unlike Maureen, Robert thought--petite and fiery. And cute. Iggy's energy was vaguely familiar. The thought surprised Robert but also made him smile.

"We had to get dropped before we could perform the fucking album more than once, but yeah, we are getting bigger audiences now, thanks to Bowie's aura around the project. But we've always had a tight, rabid group of fans who really get it. The money isn't much, since the label tossed us out on our asses, but there are a few more people in the audience to catch me."

"You're a lunatic, with that stage diving." Robert caught himself breathing a sigh of relief. Iggy was reflective. Not in the mood to spar verbally.

"What? Too afraid to bust up your pretty face, Perce?"

Robert inhaled with irritation. His face flushed. He couldn't pinpoint why Iggy was getting under his skin. He'd been treated worse by the press. Much worse.

"I just don't have it in me," Robert finally said. "Plus, I'm bigger than you, and I think I could hurt someone. Or, I might come back to the stage naked, once all the birds get their hands on me."

"You'd love it. Admit it, man."

"Maybe I would, Iggy… But I'll leave you to it."

In the silent pause, Iggy swept his gaze over Robert's face again. Iggy admired the masculine set of Robert's jawline, at odds with his feline eyes and the curlicued cloud of his hair. Robert was more attractive than The Stooges' cutest roadies, and Iggy adored his roadies. Robert was a finely sculpted man who seduced everyone with very subtle androgyny. Robert's pretty hippie god look was a far cry from Iggy's battle-scarred demon persona of eyeliner and dark lips. Nevertheless, Iggy reveled in all the boys and girls wanting him. He loved blurring the lines of the expected. It was his ace, shoving people off kilter with his performance. If he straddled a man's lap and sang in his face, or kissed an unexpecting girl in the audience, all eyes would be on him. Hate or love his performance, they would be telling all their friends about it. It never failed.

By the way Robert looked at him, Iggy knew that even Robert found him to be an intriguing novelty. He smirked at the larger man, who smiled at Iggy quizzically.

Iggy wondered if Robert knew what he was doing with his look. But Robert was a god to his fans and had nothing to explain or prove to anyone.

Iggy couldn't lie to himself; he wasn't on that level. He was the sideshow for a loud, primitive band that always performed at the brink of chaos. He would be the scrappy little underdog until the day he died. Nothing came easy. He had to do the dirty work to get what he wanted.

Iggy watched Robert's chest rise and fall with his breath and imagined that it felt just as solid as Iggy's own musculature. Robert was a total package, just like Iggy had heard. Beautiful inside as much as outside. Iggy remembered the dreamy look in Sable's eyes when he saw her on the street and mentioned he'd be coming to the Riot House, as they called it. She'd asked Iggy to say hi to Robert for her. She was on to the next thing, only had eyes for Johnny Thunders these days.

Iggy started to wonder if Robert was someone he wanted, if Robert himself might be interested in exploring that kind of connection. Iggy was not turned off by the idea, no matter how much he protested about any hint of interest in men to anyone who'd listen. But he knew he'd have to be the one to make it happen with Robert. And that was always something he wrestled with.

David and Lou had no qualms about men, but Iggy hadn't truly shaken free from Midwestern ethics. It was like the time Iggy lived with Leee. It was two boys who grew up far from the coasts of America who couldn't act on their feelings, even when Iggy's robe was open and his large cock was on display. Leee was into boys, but as much as Iggy tried to entice him, nothing ever came of it. Iggy couldn't bring himself to go for Leee. Neither man ever spoke about it. Iggy had been paralyzed by his thoughts. Lee? Maybe he just wasn't sure if Iggy was sure. Iggy had broken free from society in many ways, but not this one. He sighed in frustration.

Robert noticed that Iggy's mood had shifted again, that he was lost in his thoughts, and not happy thoughts, it seemed. For all of Iggy's maniacal bravado, Robert realized that his fellow front man wasn't a savage to the core. It put Iggy in a new light in Robert's eyes.

Not that it made Robert think Iggy was delicate or weak. The ripples and etchings of wiry muscles on Iggy's body proved how strong he was, as did how he had clawed his way to a new record deal after his band had been left for dead a few years before.

Robert and Iggy weren't friends, having just met that night, but they sat by the balcony in the Hyatt suite and had a nice, long conversation over drinks, joints, and stories of the stage.

Iggy, Robert was pleased to find out, had more layers than the press ever attributed to him. Iggy was as well read as Robert and had even broader music taste than his British counterpart. It was refreshing for Robert to have a lively artistic conversation with someone who wasn't Jimmy.

Something was shifting between Robert and Iggy. Robert kind of hoped that Alice and Fran would be delayed for a while, even though he was unsure of how he wanted to fill that time with Iggy.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ig."

"Oh…" Iggy swallowed and blinked his eyes. He'd been caught. What the hell, he thought.

"Uh, Robert …"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever… Done anything with a guy?"

"Haven't had the pleasure, Iggy. You?"

"Closest I've come, I told this creep he could lick my stomach when he asked to suck my dick. And some boys in San Francisco? They, uh, have a fan club for me. Met with them a few times. Touchy-feely motherfuckers. I don't go to sleep around them."

Iggy seemed somewhat ashamed. Robert could understand. Jonesy was convinced that Robert was too provincial, too old fashioned to accept or even acknowledge the male attention he garnered. Maybe the Midlands and Midwest weren't all that different, Robert mused. Iggy may have had more exposure to men who wanted him, but he seemed just as uncomfortable with that kind of attention.

But Robert guessed Iggy, too, was willing to bend the rules a little tonight. Good company and good drugs would do that to anyone.

Both men were lost in their thoughts. The silence was painful. It had become a game of chicken.

"Aw, fuck this." Iggy broke first. He scooted closer to Robert, rested a hand on the larger man's shoulder, and pressed his lips to Robert's. For a few tense seconds it was like both notoriously sexy men forgot how to kiss. Iggy additionally feared getting tossed from the bed by Robert. But then, everything clicked. It was like the first number of an electrifying concert. Both men knew the rush that came from singing the first few bars of a song, the sweet release of all the nervous energy that built while the band played the intro, and the passion that must be doled out with the first notes to hook the audience's attention for the night. Their kiss was exactly the same.

Robert nestled a hand on Iggy's back. Iggy's tongue was exquisitely adventurous. But not aggressive. It was the exact opposite of Iggy's stage persona: tender and unhurried. It was as good as any groupie Robert had ever encountered. Robert got the feeling that Iggy had a surprising number of facets that most would never see. Robert felt honored to get a true glimpse of the man.

Iggy glided his hand into Robert's curls. The American was enjoying himself. He realized it was no big deal after all. He briefly thought of telling David afterward, to see the surprise and envy on his face. Robert. Fucking. Plant! But Iggy would never tell a soul, out of respect for Robert and this moment. And he knew Robert wouldn't breathe a word of it, either.

Robert caressed Iggy's back, causing the smaller man to purr contentedly. The taste of Robert's tongue was the taste of freedom that he'd always craved.

The door opened, and Alice and Fran barged in. Iggy and Robert continued kissing. They'd surprised themselves by not jerking away from each other.

"Oh, my God, that's so hot!" The men heard a new voice. Fran. "They couldn't even wait for us!"

The two women took the scene as their cue and climbed on the bed, choosing a man to play with, separating the embrace.

Robert winked at Iggy, and Iggy nodded his head in response. It was fun while it lasted.

[ghostsofmemories]

Insect Poison Update #1

Before you check out this post, please remember that the fight against police brutality is still happening, and education is critical. All proceeds from this shop are still being donated to the BLM organization and will continue to be. More designs have been added since the original post was made, so be sure to click the link to find something you like.

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, feel free to jump over to my WIP introduction! I should mention that Aaron Bennett’s has been changed to Jack Bennett because I had a cool title idea for chapter 2 and needed to change his name for it to work.

So, I managed to spit out the first chapter in a couple days! It’s been difficult, but also way more fun than I was used to writing being (probably because I’m writing something I actually enjoy—who knew I was capable??). I wrote every day for five days in a row, counting today, which is wild and something I haven’t done since my NaNoWriMo days (AKA the first time I wrote this book).

Chapter 1 of the book is basically an intro to Robert and Ramona’s dynamics as (twin) siblings and a short look into how their mother interacts with them. I know the prose for this chapter could use some more work, but I think there’s a lot of character here that I liked exploring.

The chapter has three scenes: a scene where the twins are at the lake together, a scene where they’re eating dinner with their mom, Emily, and their older sister Lori, and one where they’ve stayed up late to eat cookies their mom baked for Church on Sunday.

(oop this update turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be) (CW for like, one teeny mention of drugs)

Scene 1: overhand throws are superior

In this scene, Robert and Ramona leave the house to go to the lake at the end of the street, which they’re not supposed to go to by themselves. They get into a bit of an argument that ends with a pair of shoes in the water.

The lake wasn’t big or clean or pretty, but they didn’t care much about those things. They didn’t mind the algae that tugged at their ankles or the rocks that are so sharp they gave off the impression of wanting to cut you open. It was all they’d ever known.

Since they weren’t supposed to be at the lake, they also weren’t wearing their swimsuits. They swam in their T-shirts and shorts, with Ramona’s sweater lying where the sand and the grass met. Their shoes were tucked underneath it, as if anyone would want to steal their too-small shoes with cracks in the rubber and holes in the fabric. As if their appearance wasn’t protection enough.

The water was cold enough to bite. It made their jean shorts cling to their legs, and they swam stiff and tight so they didn’t have to feel the friction. They did that for two hours; they were rebel children, breaking all the rules.

^ this part was overall just pretty fun to write, and the last sentence is definitely my favorite because of what happens next:

“Mom’s going to be so mad when we get home,” Robert said, treading water and staring his sister down. He didn’t see himself in her face the way everyone else did. Maybe it was because he spent more time with Ramona than he did with mirrors. Maybe it was because she wore her hair in two, rust colored braids and his was short and brown and untameable. Maybe it was because he almost never liked Ramona, but usually, he liked himself.

“Mom’s going to be mad,” he said again. She wasn’t going to be, but Ramona played along anyway. She kicked her legs a little faster, trying to keep her chin above the water like her brother could.

“Too bad,” she said, “we’re already in the water. She can’t do anything.”

The twins knew their mother wouldn’t be mad. She wouldn’t be mad if they were there for four hours. She wouldn’t be mad if they waltzed into the house dripping wet from their hair and clothes, right onto the freshly mopped kitchen floor. She’d mop it again without a second thought. She’d ask them how their afternoons went.

I love this part because I got to explore how Robert and Ramona almost want to get in trouble if it means someone will pay attention to them. They want to get caught and be told no about something, but their mom is so absent minded (and high) that they can get away with whatever they want. In this chapter and probably further ones, we get to see them test exactly how far they can go.

Here’s the part where the fight gets introduced: Ramona’s ready to leave and Robert isn’t, but he also doesn’t want to stay by himself (even though he’d never admit that). He tells Ramona to give her the sweater she’s holding, presumably to dry himself off a little. Instead, he tosses it into the lake.

Sweatshirts weren’t exactly known for being aerodynamic and eleven year old boys weren’t exactly known for their underhand throws, so it didn’t go far. It landed pathetically into the shallow part of the water where their older sister used to take them to catch tadpoles in the spring (they would bring them home in buckets and tupperware and try to have their very own front yard aquarium. Their mother always spotted them and made them march back to the lake and dump dozens of them back into the water).

“Robert!” Ramona yelled, stepping into his space. He put his hands behind his back and stepped even closer. “Go get it!”

“It’s your sweater,” he said. He smiled and bent down to pick up a rock, mostly because it looked like the sort Ramona would bring home and put in a box with three dozen others. He forced his hand into his wet pocket and let it sit there, wrist deep in clinging fabric with a rock clenched in his fist. Later, on the way home, he’d toss it into the grass and never think about it again.

We can see here that Robert is a little unhinged and manipulative, and really wants to get a rise out of his sister and see what she’ll do. Her response is to be even more unhinged and manipulative:

Robert watched as she sat down to put on her shoes. He saw her stand up and toss his sneakers right into the water, one after the other, socks still tucked inside.

Eleven year old girls weren’t known for their underhands, either, but their overhands could be surprising if they put some energy into it. The shoes sunk into the bottom of the lake, and the twins stared at one another as if to agree, just this once, to end the fight before things got worse.

Ramona didn’t smile. She took no pleasure in being wicked. Still, she’d be the first to admit that she took more than a little pleasure in her brother’s silence.

Scene 2: pork and potatoes and corn.

Time for dinner! This scene was fun and mildly uncomfortable to write.

Emily Bennett was nothing if not a creature of habit. She thought this was her greatest secret, something to hold close to her chest, but the things she tried to hide were always smeared down to her sleeves.

“Just in time!” She said, her smile wide enough to call a canyon. She still had silverware in her left hand and a stack of cups in her right, and stared at the next seat in line instead of looking at the twins. Her mind was only at rest when her body was in motion, and even then she struggled to drown out the noise. “We’re having pork and potatoes and corn. Go get your hands washed so you can eat, and let your sister know it’s dinner time.”

And a little later:

You kids are so quiet these days,” she said, setting her glass on the table. Condensation was already forming on the outside of the glass. The twins took turns shifting in their chairs, trying to escape from a heat that didn’t seem to bother their mother or Lori. “What have you been up to?”

The three of them looked at each other, trying to decide who would take one for the team. When eyes settled on Ramona, she spoke up. “I re-organized my rock collection this morning,” she said, and took a bite of mashed potatoes to avoid saying anything further.

“Oh, that’s nice honey. You’ll have to show me later.”

Ramona had no intention of showing her mother the newly cleaned and sorted rocks, and Emily had no intention of looking. They were simply humoring each other.

“Mhm. I think I might have found some amethyst.” Ramona was thought amethyst was her mother’s birthstone (it was, but after no comment from her mother about it, Ramona was sure she’d gotten it wrong).

“How’s the corn?” Emily asked, taking a bite of it and following it immediately with large gulps of water. The glass was half empty.

Lori spoke up. “Good. Same as always.” She wished, for a moment, that she could rewrite the sentence in her mother’s mind. It’s good, mom. Did we get it from the store or the farmer’s market? Could you show me how to cook it the way you do? She didn’t bother with these types of questions because Emily never taught her things when she asked. Lori couldn’t recall the last thing her mother had taught her.

I can’t really describe it, but the family dynamics are exactly how they need to be. I want there to be a certain feeling of tension and uneasiness when everyone is in the same place, but a tension they’ve all gotten used to. 

The last scene is when the twins are stealing cookies and getting ready for bed, which I’m not sure is totally necessary but I think it further shows their dynamics so it can stay for now.

“I’m tired,” Ramona said, trying to dip her cookie into a glass of milk she’d almost finished. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Robert said, popping open a tupperware dish and reaching into it carefully, like the cookies might disappear if he moved too fast. “Want another one?”

“We have to leave some, otherwise mom’ll notice.”

“She won’t do anything about it,” he said, pushing the bowl across the table to her, “you can have some more.”

“I don’t want anymore. I want to go to bed.” Ramona stood to rinse out her cup at the kitchen sink, the tile cool and grounding under her feet. Robert left his glass on the table and the cookie bowl with the lid half on. 

“Fine, I’ll just go to bed, too.”

Not to continue telling every bit of psychology surrounding the characters’ actions, but this part is interesting because again, both of them are aiming to get caught and get into trouble, but they refuse to do it without the other. Robert starts everything and Ramona finishes it before it gets too far.

The chapter ends with them getting ready for bed and Ramona hearing her dad’s truck pull into the driveway, meaning he’s home for a weekend before his next set of deliveries and destinations and whatnot. I think I want this to be the inciting incident, but I have to work on it more and figure out what I actually want to happen here.

Overall, the chapter clocked in at 2802 words, and I think after I go back and add some more description and imagery (which is definitely where I’ve fallen short so far), it should end up around 3000-3200. I really enjoyed writing this chapter (I think this book is by far the most exciting project for me, and is going to help me figure out what I want to write from now on), and I want to talk more about how my process is going, but I think that’ll be a separate post where I talk more about process and music and all those little things that go into a writing session for me.

If you have any questions about the story or characters, want to get added to the taglist, or just have anything to say about it in general, make sure you do that in an ask so I can be sure to see it! My notifications are sketchy but I’ve never had an issue with ask notifications. 

Taglist: @coffeeandcalligraphy​ @alicewestwater​ @fliiik-art​

[nicole-lynne]

You’ve Never Heard of Them?

Hey y’all! Recently, I’ve been very obsessed with Greta Van Fleet. A lot of people compare them to Led Zeppelin and every time I listen to them, I get this idea in my head of listening to them with Dean. I hope you enjoy this little, teeny tiny story. Please like, comment, and reblog, I really appreciate the feedback! 

Summary: Dean gets introduce to Greta Van Fleet by an unexpected guest.

Pairing: Dean x Reader (kind of)

Dean was laid back in his bed, reading some gun magazine, his feet crossed lazily as he relaxed into his pillows. It had been a quiet few days at the bunker and he wasn’t minding the free time one bit. 

As he turned the pages, the sounds of rock music flowed down the hallway and into his room. Immediately his ears perked up at the familiar sounding music. It was close to Led Zeppelin, but he couldn’t place the song. 

He tossed the magazine down haphazardly and sat up, listening intently to the melody. He was utterly baffled. No one in the bunker listened to his kind of music willingly. Sam and Cas both had sticks up their ass and they just didn’t know when to appreciate talent. 

The next song flipped on, and again, he couldn’t name the song. What the hell was going on. He bolted off the bed and followed the direction of the music. 

Dean turned the corner into the library and froze in his spot as his eyes fell on a gorgeous woman. You were curled up on the reading chair, typing away on her laptop and nodding her head along to the beat. 

“Ahem,” Your eyes snapped up to meet his anxiously. “Who the hell are you?” 

Cautiously, you turned the music off and unfolded yourself from your position. His face was hard, waiting for a good explanation. This guy had scared the bejeezus out of you and you wouldn’t put it past him to break something if you gave the wrong answer. He was definitely not the charming guy Charlie had originally described. 

“Hello there, I’m Y/N, a friend of Charlie’s. You must be Dean?” 

“Charlie’s here?” He asked gruffly. 

You were taken aback at how direct he was. “Um no... I had some issues and Charlie said you and your brother would let me stay here for a few days. Sam got me set up and said I was welcome to the library.” 

The tension is Dean’s shoulders dissipated a bit at knowing that Sam was aware you were here. Surely he’d done all the tests to make sure you were who you said you were. 

“Okay, sure. Well, if Charlie vouches for you then I’m sure it’s fine.” He mumbled as he meandered into the room. You bit your bottom lip timidly, unsure of what would be safe to say next. “So...”

“So?” You nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The room fell silent between the two of you, the absence of your music making the whole thing all the more suspenseful. Dean was walking around the room, looking at the shelves attentively, as if he didn’t live here. 

It did pose the opportunity for you to unabashedly check out his ass, which was perfectly round and tight. Truthfully, it was impossible for you to notice how attractive he was in his entirety. His biceps were tight in his black t-shirt, his jeans hugged his thighs in just the right way, and god, what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that hair. 

“What was that you were listening to?” His voice interrupted your thoughts and you looked away sheepishly. 

“Hmm? I’m sorry, I missed that.” 

Dean’s brow shot into the air, completely aware that he’d just caught you checking him out. “I asked what you had been listening to. Ya know before, when you were alone.” 

“Oh,” your nose wrinkled in thought, and Dean thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, “oh, I was listening to Greta Van Fleet.”

“Who’s Greta Van Fleet?” 

Your jaw dropped, “you’ve never heard of Greta Van Fleet? They’re only the best new-age band.” Dean shook his head as you kept babbling on about the sound and influences of the band. “Come here, you’ve got to listen to them.” 

You patted the companion reading chair enthusiastically, beckoning him to sit next to you. Before he realized, his feet were carrying him towards you and plopping him down. You flipped your laptop back open and clicked play on the album. 

You rested the computer on the chair arm and settled back. Without delay, you were mouthing along to the words, your head bobbing up and down, your eyes closing instinctively.  

Dean couldn’t deny that the band was good. It was exactly his kind of music and the guy’s voice sounded just like-

“He sounds so much like Robert Plant, it’s crazy.” Dean couldn’t believe his ears. It was almost like you’d read his mind.

“Wait, you listen to Zeppelin?” 

You popped one eye open to look at him, “yeah of course, doesn’t everyone?” God where had this girl been all his life.

“Not the people I live with.” He snorted, thinking back to the bitch face Sam gave him the last time he’d turned on Physical Graffiti.

“You must live with some boring-ass people if they can’t even appreciate Zeppelin.” 

You had closed your eyes again so you couldn’t see the huge smile that had grown on Dean’s face. “You honestly have no idea. They never value the genius that is classic rock.” 

“Their loss then.” You said and turned up the volume on the next song. 

You and Dean sat together, listening to the entire playlist. Occasionally one of you would bring up a technique they were doing or an influence you recognized, but for the most part, the only sound was the music. When the playlist ended, you clicked pause and the entire room echoed in silence. 

“What did you think?” You questioned. He could feel your eyes on him as he thought about his answer. You held your breath as you waited and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. 

“If you want the truth...” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “I loved them.” 

You grinned up at him, pleased with his response. “You really had me going for a second. I thought you hated them or something.” 

“I definitely didn’t hate them. And if that’s your taste in music, then I’d love to show you some of my favorite stuff.” Dean stood up and held a hand out to you. “Come on, I’ve got a record player in my room.” 

After a hesitant moment, you let your hand fall into his and he pulled you up out of the seat. “Alright, but I swear if you play Africa by Toto, you’ll lose all credibility.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and gave you a smirk, “Do I look like the kind of guy who listens to Toto?”

You giggled at the question, loving that you were teasing him. “You definitely look like you have a soft spot for the song.” 

“Yeah right, I’m tougher than nails, baby.” Dean squeezed your hand and winked at you, before leading you to his room for another music appreciation session. 

[daffietjuh]

Pink, Purple & Royal Blue

We’re getting there! It’s time for Christmas at the White House!

Chapter Six:

Christmas was always a stifling affair around the Manes’, that hadn’t changed since they moved to the White House. Hell, Alex would argue it only got worse. Alex was pretty sure Christmas was supposed to be fun, quality time with family. It wasn’t supposed to make him feel ill. It was supposed to bring people together, not remind Alex that he hadn’t seen his mom in a decade. It was supposed to spark joy, sadly, he couldn’t listen to Marie Kondō, he had to be here and smile and pretend to have a good time. And Alex was nothing if not a good actor.

They were doing a Christmas lunch, because there was other shit to be done today, and lunch was the easiest option.

Flint was in town and so was Robert, Alex hadn’t seen that particular brother in a few months, hadn’t felt the need to talk to him either. Hunter was there, of course, he lived in Washington, didn’t mean they talked either. Their father actually managed to sit down with them for this lunch.

He was at the head of the table with two sons on each side. Alex was glad someone had turned on the old record player, which was softly playing old Christmas carols form the corner, breaking the loaded silence.

‘So, Robert, how is your wife?’ Hunter asked, just as Alex was about to throw himself out of the window. He forced himself to take another bite. He was sure the food was good, but it all tasted like ash to him. The nerves felt like ants crawling under his skin.

‘She is good, went to her parents in Florida, we’re meeting up there tomorrow.’ Robert said. Alex had met his wife, Sabrina, exactly once, at their wedding two years ago. She was pretty and blonde and everything his dad would want them to have in a wife. Not too bright, she’d just smile and shut up. Unlike their mom, she wasn’t a spitfire, she didn’t seem to have opinions on anything other than the colour of the curtains in their perfectly ordinary and suburban house. Alex was pretty sure they’d end up with 2.4 kids and a golden retriever.

‘Fleeing the cold, huh?’ His father’s comment was low and quiet, but they all heard him. When their father spoke you listened. They had all learned that a long time ago.

‘She wanted me to come see their new place. We’re not staying long.’ Like going somewhere warmer, even for a few days, was somehow a sign of weakness. Alex took another bite, just to make sure he didn’t blab out something he wasn’t supposed to. ‘What about you, Alex? Plans?’ If Alex could have reached him, he’d have kicked him under the table. Diverting the attention to him, dick.

He had a teeny tiny bit of hope his dad would bail him out, say he wanted to keep Alex around for the re-election, but he didn’t. So he swallowed his food and shrugged.

‘I’ve been thinking about law school.’ He looked his brother right in his stupid, smug face. ‘Figured it’d be fun.’ He knew it pissed Robert off that Alex outscored him on every single test they’d ever taken. He wanted to be the smart one, instead, he got to be the plain one.

Flint was the tough one, two tours overseas while in the Air Force. He was thinking about reenlisting again. Hunter was the politician, not the smartest, but the best at getting people to do what he wanted them to do. He was the best at twisting and turning unfavourable things in his favour. Alex was the smart one.

And Robert, poor Rob, he was the one with the wife and the house and the boring office job. An extremely well paying office job, but still, an office job.

‘Only you would classify law school as fun.’ Hunter said with a short laugh. ‘Law school is more something for me though, isn’t it?’

Continue on AO3

[agentem]

Endgame thoughts: Frigga, ScarJo, Ageism in Hollywood, mom stuff

I think this is going to be a long one. I just have a lot of feelings.

My main takeaway from Thor: the Dark World besides that it was a terrible movie, was that it treated Frigga like crap. I was very angry at that film. And I only recently learned that Markus and McFeely are two of the credited writers of that film. So perhaps I should not have had as much faith in their writing ability as I did?

Maybe because I grew up with Major League, I do still think of Rene Russo as an attractive women. She’s older now, obviously. But recently I watched the movie Freejack (don’t--it’s terrible) and Rene Russo is the young love interest in that movie to Emilio Estevez’s leading man. The antagonist is Anthony Hopkins, who is much older than the two of them.

So I had a lot of feelings about casting older men with younger women. Hopkins is 81. Russo is 65. Sure, Frigga is supposed to be his second wife, right? So maybe he went with a younger model. It’s not impossible for her to have a 38-year-old and 35-year-old actors play her sons. Plus it’s a fantasy world; they are all supposed to be thousands of  years old.

But I still thin it is worth noting that Rene Russo is closer in age to Robert Downey Jr than she is to Anthony Hopkins. He gets a hero role and she gets the “mom role” which is often a thankless task.

I guess this is more in general rather than specific to these films. But in Hollywood, once you are 35 and  woman you are garbage. But a 35-year-old man is still a leading man.

And this leads me into the treatment of Scarlett Johanson’s character directly because guess who is going to turn 35 this very year? She is!

So obviously it’s fucking time for her to die, right?

We already know Nat can’t have babies from Age of Ultron so what purpose could she serve past wearing a catsuit and being “hot” for “young boys” (read: old men) to look at??

I have been reading a lot of the meta about how Thor’s characterization was messed up. To be honest, I didn’t really think so much about that in the theater (except when Cap had lightening, wtf?) except, “boy they are really beating this joke into the ground?” I know Chris Hemsworth wants to be the funny guy. But I was kind of jealous of how Thor got the “i am still young, right? I’m only 1,500 years old!” arc when Nat (and Steve, to be fair) are like basically done with their lives at 35.

I don’t really know where I am going with this except that it doesn’t make me feel great.

I was happy to see Frigga, for her to get a moment with Thor. For her to be important in his on screen life. I love Rene Russo. I thought she looked beautiful and was great. (I was also happy to see a little teeny bit of Jane.)

I was also happy to see Pepper get to kick some ass in a movie and be Rescue. I was happy that she was the one who was the last person to speak with Tony and not Steve (why are they even still fighting? Let it go, boys.)

But I am sorry to say goodbye to her, to Frigga, to Nat. I love Wanda, Carol and Val. But I can’t help notice that those actresses are all younger than Scarlett and a part of me wonders if she’s being phased out for a younger model. (There is a bit of that in the Iron Man to Spider-man hand off, but it feels more like a natural progression since Tony has had his threequel, plus four Avengers movies and half a Captain America movie.) But then Paul Rudd, Chadwick Boseman, and Benedict Cumberbatch are also all older than Chris Evans, who we are also losing.

I don’t know what to do with that besides pledge to see the Black Widow prequel when it comes out, and hope it is hugely successful so they have to bring her back.

[megsironthrone]

Return to King’s Landing

Based on this request: Hi! Happy Sunday, could I request a fic where reader was Robert Baratheons sister. She's returned to be in Kings Landing during series 7 after being in Storms End for a while and Euron and Jamie both take a liking to her? She can pick any of them, I'll leave that to you!

Here you are!! I do not own Cersei, Euron or Jaime. They belong to George R.R.Martin. 

Masterpost

Warnings: Mostly angst I’m afraid. A teeny tiny bit of fluff if you squint. 

Pairings/Characters: Jaime Lannister x fem!Baratheon reader x Euron Greyjoy, brief mention of Cersei Lannister. 

You nervously chewed your lip as the Red Keep grew closer. It had been years since you were last here. Stannis had refused to let you set foot in King's Landing, not even for your brother Robert's funeral. Now, you were the only true Baratheon left and had the freedom to do what you wanted. And you knew that, right now, King's Landing was the safest place for you especially since you had no desire for the throne.

           You pulled your horse to a stop an dismounted. Taking a breath to steady your nerves, you opened walked toward the throne room and let the guards open the doors. Cersei was seated on the Iron Throne and looked up in surprise when you entered the room. "Y/N?" You smiled up at her. "Your Grace. Or may I still call you sister?" you asked with a curtsy.

           While it was true that you weren't overly fond of Cersei, she hadn't done anything to you personally that warranted your anger and you thought it best not to upset her, especially not when you were looking for safety. You looked up at Cersei and smiled before your eyes darted to the man next to her. "Ser Jaime?"

           Jaime couldn't seem to tear his gaze away. How long had it been since he last saw you? Years, at least. In those years, you had grown into a lovely young woman, not just on the outside either. Jaime could see that you were still as kind, caring, and most importantly, tactful as you had been. Benefits of not living in King's Landing, Jaime guessed. "My lady," he greeted after a moment.

           Cersei asked Jaime to escort you to a set of chambers. "Then we can talk in private, Y/N." You nodded and followed Jaime out of the throne room. "How have you been, Ser Jaime?" you asked. Jaime didn't answer at first. "I've been...well, my lady." You rolled your eyes. "Since when do you lie to me? Even as young as we were, I could tell when you were lying. You are clearly not well, but I hope that changes soon. And please, call me Y/N."

           After you returned, Jaime found himself wanting to spend more time with you. He didn't expect that there would be another swooping in and trying to steal your affections. Jaime hated Euron Greyjoy probably more than he'd hated anyone before. But Euron had taken a shining a to you as well. Jaime only hoped that you would be able to see through Euron's false flattery.

           You felt yourself flush at Euron's words. It wasn't often that people described you as beautiful, at least not to your face. But here Euron was, leaning in slightly and whispering to you how beautiful you were. You probably shouldn't have been as flattered as you were, but you couldn't help it. "You, Your Grace, are too much," you said with a giggle and Euron smiled. Actually, it was more of a smirk, but you chose to ignore that.

           As you spent time with both of them, you realized just how different Jaime and Euron were. Euron was very vocal about his flirtations and what he wanted. The innuendos just seemed to fly right out of his mouth and he made it no secret that he wanted you in his bed. His words were laced with honey, meant to entice you into doing anything he wanted you to do and thinking it was your idea.

           Jaime, on the other hand, was much more reserved in his advances. Sometimes, you couldn't tell if he was flirting or not. What you could tell was that he just wanted to spend time with you. That was something you appreciated. And Jaime, while he never outwardly flattered you, made you feel important in little ways. Both men had their unique and endearing qualities and both had their faults, just like you. You began to hope the day would never come where you'd have to choose between them.

           Your hopes were dashed when you came upon the two of them fighting. You were out for a walk in the city and found them yelling at one another. It looked like it was about to come to blows. "What are you two doing?" you snapped, causing both of them to snap their eyes over to you and off each other. They merely stared at you for a second, their brains trying to catch up to what was happening. It was Euron who recovered first.

           "My lady, forgive me. This man believes he has the right to your hand. I was simply trying to explain to him that you have no interest in him." You crossed your arms over your chest and arched a brow. "And who are you to say that? I can speak for myself, Euron." Euron began to protest and that was when Jaime had enough. He was seething.

           "Well, Ser Jaime? What have you to say for yourself?" Jaime looked at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, I-I have no excuse for my behavior. I only wish to protect you from men like him. He doesn't care for you, based on the unsavory words coming from his mouth. He cares only for power and will do anything necessary to get it." You sighed. "That is the way most men in the world are, Jaime. I thank you for trying to protect my honor, but I don't need you to. Perhaps coming here was a mistake." You turned on your heel and headed back toward the Keep, ignoring their cries of protest.

           You spent the rest of the day avoiding the two men. You needed time to think. What if neither of them really loved you? What if you were just a plaything to both of them and they were toying with your emotions? Maybe the best thing for you to do was to leave King's Landing and return home, if it was still standing anyway. You packed your things and headed for the stables.

           "Where are you going?" Jaime's voice in the darkened corridor made you jump. "I'm going home. I cannot stand to be the reason two grown men are at each other's throats. Not when there's a war going on." You moved to push passed him, but he caught your arm with his flesh hand. "Please, don't go, Y/N." You shook your head sadly. "I have to. There's no reason for me to stay when it's going to rip the two men I care deeply for apart."

           "Dammit, Y/N! There is a reason for you to stay!" You jumped a little at his sharp tone. He sighed and loosened his grip slightly. "I...don't say this easily, but I love you. I hoped that would be reason enough for you to stay. But, if you don't feel the same, I won't stand in your way with Euron. But please, whatever you choose, don't leave me without your presence."

           You sniffled. "I'm sorry," you whispered, removing your arm from his grasp and running toward the stables. You fought back tears as you rode away from King's Landing for what was probably the last time.

(a/n: Sorry about the angst. That’s just where my mind took it.) 

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