#yes I invented that ship name just now

[the-universal-sun]

On what age range does Stan regress? And also what type of agree gear does be use? Just politely asking as a fren :3

Yes! Thank you friend for the ask! There’s going to be more coming this way because I’ll have entirely too much time on my hands in the next few days! So please enjoy this too!

Can you guys tell what book I apparently really like?

I don’t think there’s a solid age he regresses down to, like consistently, I think it’s around the 2-5 mark, unless something happens or he’s feeling extremely distressed, then he regresses down younger. Which, in that case, means he HAS to have someone take care of him. Which is probably going to be Ford, he’s the only one he can really trust to care for him in the way he needs when he feels that young.

As for gear, it depends.

If Fiddleford is his caregiver (and even though this would be in the early 80s we are going to be anachronistic. This is fiction we can take liberties) then he’s getting at least one pacifier. Fidds probably made it for Stan so he doesn’t mess up his teeth even more, and he probably made it to have a cute little nickname spelled out. I like to think Fidds uses food/southern nicknames for Stanley when regressed, so think something like “Pumpkin” or “Junebug”. He does have his “Poindexter” plush that he’s had since he was 19, but Fidds does win him a really big Duck plush when the fair comes to Gravity Falls. He has some sippy cups because he has a tendency to tilt the cup all the way up and pour his drink all down his face and clothes. He really only has some footie pajamas for when it gets to be winter up there. It’s not easy to come by someone who will custom make clothes in gravity falls, especially nothing like the kind of clothes Stan wants. So he mostly settles for some softer clothing with fun designs and patterns. Nothing vibrant that’ll hurt his eyes. Sweats and grandma sweaters mostly. Fidds makes sure he has a lot of paper and coloring books with as many crayons and markers as he wants. He loves to color and draw. He also has some blocks, a lite brite for when the lights needs to be off so his eyes can rest, play doh, and fighting robots to name a few. He has a few story books that Fidds will read to him. Fidds wants to spoil him, but he knows that he can’t buy Stan everything he wants to, so he does what he can (for now…)

If Ford is his caregiver (we’re doing Grunkle Ford for now) then he is going to do his best to spoil Stan with all he wants as much as possible. From buying stuff online (the internet is marvelous!) to making/inventing it. Ford’s got Stan enough pacifiers stashed around the ship and later shack to have a different one every day. He’s getting Stan sippy cups of all kinds of patterns and designs. it’s easier than cups for him if he’s got dentures since he likes to take those out. He’s got one bottle for the times he’s feeling extra small. He’s got some nice and warm footie pajamas for when they’re in the Arctic, and some lighter ones for more general use-sometimes his brother just needs a lazy day where he can wear what’s basically pajamas. Those kinds of footies are going to be the kind that are animal themed with the ears and tails-Ford thinks they’re so cute. He’s also got some nautical themes pajama sets for the summers spent in Gravity Falls. That’s not even accounting for all the soft handmade sweaters Stan’s got from Mabel that he wears-his favorite having dinos on it-and the soft pants and shorts he feels more comfortable wearing now that his secrets out in the open. I’ve already mentioned Poindexter, that’s a staple for any kind of regressed Stanley, and I mentioned in a few posts Shanklin 2, the stuffed Opposum Ford gets Stan after finding out he’s barely got any Little stuff. He will give Stan all the toys he had back in Jersey and all the toys he’s ever wanted. Legos, blocks, slinkies, playdoh, etch n sketches, fighting robots, hard to break tea sets, coloring books, fancy crayons (This is art, it deserves the best!), anything Stan looks twice at really. He goes a bit overboard, but he’s just trying to make up for all the years he’s missed out on. Also Goodnight Moon, can’t forget that book. That’s Stan’s favorite out of the multitude of books Ford reads to him.

Now if it’s just Stan regressing by himself? He only allows himself the bare minimum. He has Poindexter, an old onesie he allowed himself to buy a few years beforehand, and old and worn pacifier, some crayons, coloring books, blank paper, Ford’s old coat that he likes to wrap around himself when he misses him, a sippy cup, and Goodnight Moon. He feels guilty letting himself indulge. He feels ashamed to be acting like that, a child, to be needing his paci and sippy cup, even in the privacy of his own home, even though he can’t help it. So without anyone there to tell him it’s okay, he doesn’t allow himself to indulge or to spoil himself like he is when he’s being taken care of.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 8

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.8

“You’ve been down here forever PhD. Maybe you should… I dunno, leave your evil basement sub-lab? Maybe eat something other than an entire tube of toothpaste?”

“This isn’t toothpaste. It’s a calorie-rich blended solution formulated specifically for daily nutrition, in a convenient tube to avoid the need for cutlery.”

“Doc. Read the label.”

“...”

“You should probably sleep too if you mixed those up.”

“You’re just trying to get me to leave so you can escape.”

“I’ve broken out of county jail, the trunk of a sinking car, a shipping crate, cement shoes, and even my loan sharks book club meeting. But this? A forcefield? A real, no-shit forcefield? I don’t have anything for that… anymore.”

“What was that last part?”

“I said I can’t break out of sci-fi prison. Go to bed already, Doc - it’d be a lot easier for me to sleep too if you weren’t hovering over there, looking at me all sad like I’m some stray at the pound about to be put down.”

“Fine, but don’t go anywhere.”

“Well there goes my plans for the night.”

“...What plans?”

“For the fifth time, it’s called sarcasm.”

“Now that I think about it, I think I still have an invention I need to calibrate…”

“Specs was right; how did you survive out here by yourself?”

(...)

“Thanks for helping me clean the place up, Fiddleford. I’ll admit, I’ve been putting it off for a while now.”

“You don’t say… You know, you still haven’t told me what that extra level in your basement is for.”

“I’ve already told you, it’s a private study.”

“You’re so secretive about it.”

“Private study.”

“Alright, alright.”

“After we’re done here, I have an anomaly in the woods I need to check out; would you be willing to keep an eye on the house and the lab while I’m gone?” 

“I have no problem making sure your brother doesn’t disappear into thin air, of course I’ll stay back for your peace of mind.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s what you meant - oh don’t make that face at me. I’m not trying to make fun of you, I think it’s… Endearing, that you care so much even if you have the worst ways of showing it.”

“...Just keep an eye on the house. And maybe go down there every so often to interact with him, the isolation isn’t doing him many favours.”

“How did your last talk with him go?”

“He’s still convinced that I’m grieving over my ‘real’ twin, and using him as a substitute because we look alike. He can acknowledge that the timeline and traits line up, and that he himself has a missing past, but he still thinks he’s a ‘Malone’ and not a ‘Pines’. I don’t know why he’s being so resistant to the possibility…”

"You know... 'Stan Malone' sounds mighty similar to 'Standalone'. 

*Ford facepalms*

“I thought it was clever.”

“It is, that’s why I’m mad.”

(...)

“-and it’s actually called ‘Backupsmor’? That’s its name?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. They didn’t even bother hiding what they were huh?”

“I suppose so. What about you, Stan?”

“Pft, I didn’t go to college. I’m… pretty sure? I didn’t graduate high school.”

“You’re not fully sure?”

“F, I can only remember back when I was 17, and I was already living on the streets. I don’t think I could have graduated by then. Not like it would have helped me.”

“17, you say? Interesting…”

“What about you? Your whole family full of geniuses like you?”

“Everyone’s… smart in their own way. I’m the only member of my family to attend college, however. The rest of my family works on a hog farm.”

“That’s pretty cool, striking it out on your own.”

“Mighty kind of you to-.”

“Good-looking, smart, and independent? I like that in a-.”

“I’m back!”

*Fiddleford hastily presses the mute button on the containment unit*

“Stanford, you’re back! How was it?”

“I was hoping it was something new, but it was just the gnomes trying to utilize the size changing crystals. How were things here?”

"I was just getting more information on what past he does remember- didn’t rightly get much because he is such a flirt."

"He's only doing it to a) make you uncomfortable, b) make you let your guard down, or c) charm you enough to convince you to free him."

"Well he hasn't quite succeeded on any of those. Does he flirt with you?"

"That's disgusting, Fiddleford. I don't know how you do things in Tennessee, but here it is improper for siblings to-."

“Genius, didn't you just say he doesn't believe you're related?"

“Somewhere in there he must still know I'm his brother. Which is a good thing for us because his memories can't be buried too deep."

TAPTAPTAP

*Fiddleford presses the mute button of the cell to unmute it*

“No, that's not it. That motherfucker is ugly.”

“Ugly? We have the same face!”

“Yeah, but on you it doesn't work.”

To be continued...

[princesscolumbia]

Star Trek Captains, A Review and Categorization

Star Trek is a show about a Neo-military organization that has rank structures, ships, and fights wars, so naturally there's plenty of captains to talk about, but for this post I'll be highlighting specifically the main cast captains, in something resembling chronological order. (But, I mean, this is Star Trek, so even that's kinda up in the air)

Captain Archer

That Guy who had to hand crank the warp engine up-hill both ways in the blinding ion storm. We don't need no stinkin' Prime Directive! Remember The Alamo Pearl Harbor 9/11 Florida! But...uh, maybe don't be dicks about it, not everyone who looks like the ones responsible for that thing we're never going to forget actually wants us dead. Got transformed into an alien, got possessed by another alien, slept with a couple more. Never got pregnant, though (that was his chief engineer)

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Wars started: 0

Wars ended: 3

Times on screen naked: 1

Nazi facilities destroyed: 1

Category: Grampa

Captain Pike

Midlife crisis? What midlife crisis? Everything's fiiiiine. Now eat something, it'll make you feel better. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Number One, don't tell me I can't adopt more kids, I don't care that they're from the future they're mine now. Besides, we've already got a whole ship-full, what's two more?

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 2

Violations of the Temporal Prime Directive: -3 (yes, it's an irrational number, we're talking time travel, people!)

Musical Numbers Participated While On Duty: 3

Hair: Really Great

Category: Dad (or DILF if you swing that way)

Captain Georgiou

You will be captain when you can snatch the stone from my hand.

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Protege's who required a redemption arc: 1

Awesomeness: Transcendent

Category: Gone too soon, also, MILF who can kick your ass

(Edit: Courtesy of @cheer-me-up-scotty for pointing out an oversite on my part)

Captain Burnham

Cosplays as a Vulcan 'cause she's jealous of her adoptive brother. Accurately called an audience-stand-in-self-insert-mary-sue (shut up, Star Trek fandom invented the Mary Sue, it was a term coined by women fans, so shut up!), but by season 2 she actually gets interesting.

Scorecard

Mommy Issues: Has a subscription

Moms: 4

PTSD inducing life events: Like, all of them

Ships commanded: 3

Mutinies led failed: 1

Category: That One Cousin who married surprisingly well and made something of herself in spite of all expectations

Captain Kirk

Golden retriever energy, would be the Useless Bisexual Himbo if he didn't have so much game. Probably smarter than he lets on. Polyamory King and certified Alien Fucker. Boyfriend is a half-space-elf, main sometimes-girlfriend will go on to create the deadliest super-weapon ever built by humans by accident.

Scorecard

Number of Klingon Bounties on his head: [CLASSIFIED]

Number of women he's slept with: [CLASSIFIED]

Nazi regimes toppled: 1

Number of times he should have had a test that determines if you can stick your dick in it that got named after an upstart from that other science fiction show instead: 1

Ships Commanded: 3

Ships He's Stolen: 3

Category: Slut(affectionate)

Captain Kirk (the other one)

Golden Retriever that got left behind when his family moved away and had to lead a ragtag team of a crotchety older dog and a wet cat on a journey...

No, wait, hold on...

Right! That's the one!

Scorecard

Times he should have been kicked out of Starfleet: At least 4

Ships commanded: 3

Ground transport destroyed: 2 (that we know of)

Number of middle fingers given to Admiralty: 2

Category: Bad Boy

Captain Picard

You know that guy who you see going to the library all the time and always seems to have his nose in a book and always seems to be telling people off for breaking the rules and doing dangerous shit? You'd never know it but he used to be That Guy in college who got, like, ALL the girls and is going to be the Hot Grampa that you don't know how he has that much game, but he got it.

Scorecard

Ships lost in the line of duty: 2

Number of times he married and then estranged his best friend's wife who named their son after her dead first husband: 1

Number of toxic omnipotent and omniscient boyfriends who are obsessed with him and spends their spare time playing with ponies: 1

Category: Inexplicable Sexyman

Captain Badass Sisko

The Cool Dad with baggage. He's got game, but he's got priorities as well, and DON'T mess with his son or you won't even exist anymore to regret it. BLM before it was cool. Led a civil rights riot two centuries before he was born. Space Jesus who can make the best jambalaya you've ever had. Fought and won a war, punched a god, then became one.

Scorecard

Civilizations saved: 4

Native Cultures Treated With the Respect They Deserve: Many

Times He Bent the Rules so his CMO could get some nookie from a Cardasian spy plain, simple tailor: The counter broke

Successful black-ops assassinations completed: 1

Category: BAMF

Captain Janeway

THE single most decorated captain in Starfleet history. Successfully dropped the hammer on dozens of petty tyrants, oppressive regimes, roaming mass murderers, and the Borg. What Prime Directive? Your Mom. Also, probably slept with your mom, that's how much she is the Domme-est of Dommes. She told the Borg to use the safe word...and they DID!

Scorecard

Borg Daughters: 1

Times she told the Borg to step off: 3 (or 4...or 5? Honestly, with the time travel shenanigans it's hard to know for sure)

Nazis she's personally shot: 1

Category: Mistress, but it's "Ma'am" to you

Captain Freeman

She's angry AND disappointed! She's just as good as all the other captains in the fleet, and the good ones know it, but all the rest? They see "cali class" and assume all they're good for is the jobs nobody else wants. But jokes on them, because thanks to that attitude her crew are the flippin' Jacks and Jills of all trades and are more capable of fixing AND fucking AND "fucking" shit up than damn near anyone else!

Scorecard

Times the ship has nearly been destroyed but she and her crew got through it: ...uh...how many episodes are there? And then there's the times that get casual mentions that we never get the details on!

Daughters who should probably be captains now if they were at least a LITTLE more respectful and didn't actively try to piss off Admirals: 1

Times the Cerritos has had to be rebuilt to the point it might as well be called "The Ship of Cerritos Problem": At least 4

Category: Your mom...get back here, I'M NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU!

Captain R'El

Cinnamon Roll, just let m'boy into Starfleet! He just wants a home and a family! I'd like to see full-grown captains who can keep up with half of what this Best Boy is capable of!

Scorecard

Number of species his genetic code is made up of: All of 'em. Even the GODDAMN Q!

Number of Janeways he impressed the socks off of: 2

Quality of his Janeway impression: Bad

Number of Ferengi he out-Ferengi'd: 1

Nazis punched: Give him time...

Category: Teenage Boy Who's NOT GOING THROUGH A PHASE, MOM!

Should I do Captains Shaw and Seven? How about Alternate Timeline Tripp or Future Chakotay? (Going too far down that rabbit hole will eventually lead to Imperial Kirk and Captain Spock from the movies.) Let me know in the comments.

Next Post in this series

[thestarstoasun]

Some of my PJO ships & why

Percabeth (Percy/Annabeth - They invented love)

Ruegard (Clarisse/Silena - THE LAST OLYMPIAN, THE PARALLELS, PLS)

Clarisse/Chris (*I do not know their ship name, my bad - The Labyrinth, need I say more?)

Silena/Beckendorf (*Idk if they ever had an official ship name - They were so tragic)

Clarisse/Beckendorf/Silena/Chris (Polycule, bc multishipper really)

Jake Mason/Michael Yew (I have a thousand reasons and I don't think any are canon)

Conchell (Connor/Mitchell - THE FANFICS PLS, but some of them need to remember these are minors pls)

Connor x Malcolm Pace (I saw really cute ship art 1 time and I was sold)

Connor/Mitchell/Malcolm (I think they'd be really cute together and I don't care if it's impractical)

Luke/Lee Fletcher (Lukelee - Honestly, its more of a crack ship for me, but some people on Tumblr have me considering how much)

Luke/Ethan Nakamura (Lukethan - I can't be alone in this, pls)

Theyna (Thalia/Reyna - They would make an awesome QPR, and I thought this even before Reyna was revealed to be aroace. They flirt endlessly if only to enjoy the confused looks on their friends faces)

Tratie (Travis/Katie Gardner - Is there anyone who read the books in the 2010s when the fandom was like super big that doesn't ship them? It's big now, but like, still.)

Tyson/Ella (They deserve the world)

Solangelo (Nico/Will - Tbf, I shipped them since The Last Olympian AS A CRACK SHIP, but A WIN IS A WIN)

Grover/Juniper (Just yes)

Sally/Paul (The King that our Queen Sally Jackson deserves)

Shelper (Shel/Piper - The plot twist I didn't know I needed)

Valgrace (Leo/Jason - When I read The Lost Hero, I just thought "these two idiots could definitely work well together.")

Jasper (Jason/Piper - It isn't my favorite, but I think they're cute together. I hate that their relationship was built on the Gods interference, because neither of them deserved that. I would probably like it more if it didn't start because of Hera.)

Ethabaster (Ethan Nakamura/Alabaster Torrington - The fandom is the reason I ship them mainly tbh. I ship Ethan with Luke more, but Ethan honestly deserves better)

Jercy (Jason/Percy - I have read a single Jercy fanfiction and its kind of growing on me)

Cecil/Lou Ellen (They are literally the idiots in love that annoy Will until he gets with Nico {personal hc}, Love them)

Sherman/Miranda (I didn't think I would like this as much as I do, but its in so many fics I've read I'm low-key a little attached. Like, yeah Sherman show off, get your girl)

Damien/Chiara (I couldn't see them with anyone else tbh, but honestly could possibly change that one day, they will always hold my heart as #1 together though)

Frazel (Frank/Hazel - They are one of the sweetest pairings in the series)

Jason/Percy/Annabeth/Piper (Yes, another poly ship. I've seen this in a few fics and honestly, I think the way its written has grown on me.)

Castor/Will (Literally, because of a single fanfic. They were probably each other's first crushes and didn't even know it)

[ask-lps-staff-au]

Russell: To deepen the bond we have with our customers *cough cough* and to get our sales up *cough cough* we created this blog for you all to get in touch with us. Today, I’m going to introduce the rest of the staff here so you know who to address your questions to. Starting with-

Vinnie: ME ME ME!!!!

Russell: Yes, Vinnie, You.

Russell: What you do.

Vinnie: Ohhh! I like to dance :) 

Russell: No, what is your job?

Vinnie: Man, you should’ve just said that! My job is… well I lift heavy things sometimes? Like dog food and kitty litter. That kinda thing. Mostly just chill, though. That good?

Russell: You know what? Yes. That’s perfect, Vinnie

Vinnie: Sweet.

Russell: Minka, sorry to cut you short but can we have your name and job please?

Minka: I was just getting to that part! Anyways, my name’s Minka Mark, and I’m the cashier here, you hear?

Russell: Loud and clear, Minka.

Russell: They aren’t lines, just say it how you normally would!

Vinnie: Yeah, you just gotta say it Zoe-ey!

Zoe: Zoe-ey? Oh, that’s it!

Zoe: *singing* Yeahh Yeaaahhh~ The name’s Zoe~ And now you know-y~

Zoe: *back to talking* Oh, yeah. I’m in charge of grooming the pets.

Russell: Ohhh-kay. Let’s move on.

Pepper: Serious as I can be. Number 1: what has four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs at night?

Russell: A man.

Pepper: Correctomundo, but are you ready for riddle number 2? What gets wetter the more it dries?

Russell: A towel. Are you just reading off a list of the top ten most basic riddles or what?

Pepper: I’ll answer that but you’ll have to answer three more riddles. Last one: the man who invented it doe-

Minka: HER NAME IS PEPPER CLARK AND SHE TAKES CARE OF THE DAYCARE PETS!!!

Pepper: Dangit.

Russell: Thank you, Minka.

Russell: Probably like 10 people at most.

Vinnie: But, hey! You never know if the algorithm could pick it up! You could be talking to millions of people right now!

Sunil: Millions?! Eek!

Russell: *sigh* That’s Sunil. Talk to him if you ever need help finding anything. I promise he’s more helpful than he looks right now.

Russell: … that’s it?

Penny: Was there supposed to be more?

Russell: No, this is just the smoothest interview I’ve had all day. I’m kinda shocked.

Penny: Well, I’m glad I did good.

Russell: Yep.

Both: …

Blythe: Ruff ruff!

Russell: Oh, yeah, that’s right! Don’t forget to check out Blythe-Style pet clothes which you can find on the racks in the front of the store (which are made by a different Blythe and not this Blythe. A human Blythe. Obviously because why would a dog make clothes!! That’s absurd!!! Almost as crazy as a group of people who can understand ANIMALS hahahaha!!!)

Russell: Those questions aren’t- Whatever. Ask us anything, I guess.

---

Hello, and welcome to the ((very much unofficial))* Littlest Pet Shop page! Please drop any questions you have for us in our inbox - Best, R. Ferguson

*((this is in no way related to or authorized by hasbro or the Littlest Pet Shop brand. This is a fan project fully made for entertainment purposes. I make no profit from this.))

((Hello!!!! Double parentheses mean that I, the person who runs this blog aka @octodrawn, am speaking. I wanted to give you a couple guidelines before you submit anything. If you’re interested, please click read more!

I want to start this off by saying I am a human person with responsibilities, boundaries and a lack of free time so it may take a while to answer your ask. I also have the right to not answer every ask I receive.

We are keeping things generally PG/PG-13 here, so that means Minimal swearing, no violence, Minimal references to drug use, nothing sexual except for maybe the occasional ‘I did your mom last night’ type jokes because they are funny to me.

This is primarily an art ask blog, but I will only use text for posts on occasion.

I’m not gonna put a cap on ‘what do you think of __ x __’ questions for now, but if they become a majority of questions asked, then I will. Currently, no ships are canon in this AU, so don’t expect any answers to say anything differently.

Don’t take the setup of this blog being diegetic too seriously. If you want to send something that’s like *gives them all cookies* or *transforms them into turtles* I won’t stop you.

Have fun and be yourself :-)

Please keep this in mind before asking anything. This is all for fun, so please don’t take this too seriously.

I’ll be making a tag list soon but feel free to send asks now :3))

[li-nox]

It seems that, with Gerrard, they all adopt a strategy of "Keep your head down and survive."

Tommy obviously was friends with Chim by the time Hen arrived.

Tommy welcomed her with an open smile and curiosity before Gerrard shut it all down and enforced a line (that Chimney followed as well within the firehouse). When Hen is giving her speech, Chim and Tommy exchange looks, with Chim giving a minute nod.

The next time, we see her in the firehouse, she finds out that Gerrard got the boot, because several people reported him, and the narrative makes it clear, that those several people were Chim and Tommy (and maybe Sal, though Sal was very much Gerrard's good boy) Tommy was never racist to Hen, he made one snide comment about her being bitchy when Chim says she has "that east coast vibe". (a comment people claim comes from Tommy and is somehow racist?)

Chim actually complains later about her being standoffish later, as well. (Or "that's revenge for you making it so hard to be friends with you.) Even with Chim, yes, Tommy was extremely closed off, but, as Eli explains "You don't name the puppy before you're sure it's gonna survive." You're not making friends before you can be sure they stick around. And once Tommy was sure, he welcomed Chim with open arms.

And now, Gerrard has returned. And wonder of wonders... Chim keeps his head down and doesn't speak up. Hen keeps her head down and doesn't speak up. Eddie keeps his head down and doesn't speak up, when Gerrard is raining his abuse on people.

Does that mean they're all homophobic, racist, mysoginist? Or do they maybe just try to weather this storm, hoping it will pass soon without their careers in the gutter?

But they're POC, people will say. Well, yes. And Tommy is gay. He is as much a welcome target to Gerrard's hate as them, his only advantage is that he can live a complete lie and hide it, inventing a "girlfriend".

We've seen how well Gerrard took those news at the end of S7, when he took the first opportunity - completely unprovoked - to make a homophobic remark.

None of the accusations against Tommy hold up on closer scrutiny. Except for him being closed of and a bit of a dick to people until he gets to know them.

People just, for some weird and unsensical reason, need an excuse to hate Tommy to justifiy their ship, as if there can only be one ship.

This ain't Highlander.

I think that stands alone. 'm not tearing up. You are.

[hermanoga]

I have so much to say about this episode.

First, during this re-watch I am realising

1. Lu Guang is a huge brat lmao. Even in the previous episode, he intentionally does or says things that end up annoying Cheng Xiaoshi. I used to think that's Cheng Xiaoshi's department but no 😂

2. Cheng Xiaoshi, yeppie puppy just likes invading lu Guang's personal space and bothering him. He is very babygirl coded. Indeed!

now, back to the episode

when qiao ling explains the case, the focus is on shiguang. It is a very clear parallel omg.

parallel x2

cheng xiaoshi literally compares their duo to those girls

Now

The main reason for this re-watch is...I am watching this without any preset gay agenda reigning in my head unlike the first time.

First episode : I felt lu guang was colder than we have ever seen him in 2 seasons. His expression barely softens, he has a slight cishet dudebro attitude which I couldn't ignore.

And also yes. Cheng Xiaoshi was ready to kiss (and...have sex?) with that stingy boss until lu guang commands. That's an ungodly amount of trust, man. It was really insane and scary.

Anyway, back to my neutral lens...I can declare that... congratulations! I failed successfully.

I may theorise about bois being gay but my sapphic experience resonates with them, whom the fandom affectionately calls 'noodle lesbians'.

the continuous metaphor of marriage is no joke. Why are two women living together without finding themselves boyfriends? Romantic life where? oh, I know exactly where.

"sleep with me" is that Netfix and chill? we will never know. (But it certainly means something very very intimate. My sapphic radar hums in approval)

cheng xiaoshi, do you realise you just made that joke, that that joke.

also shiguang parallel again. bunkmates.

DAMN I CANT ADD MORE PHOTOS SO ILL POST PART 2 TOMORROW

part 2 link below!

[gabessquishytum]

I'm having a galaxy brain moment: Winter Soldier AU 👀

Hob and Dream both grew up together in the same neighborhood. Initially, Hob was the lanky one, as he was from a family significantly more poor than Dream. But he always fought everything and everyone, especially those who dared pick on Dream. His beautiful, dark, lonely friend.

When they grow up, Hob wants to be a soldier, fight in wars, but his physique doesn't let him. Dream, who volunteers at the same time, is sent to the front, to their mutual dismay as they are now separated.

Until a scientist named Death because the experiments haven't gone tremendously well sees Hob and asks him if he wants to be their next lab rat for their "Immortality Serum", a treatment that will make him incredibly strong and pretty much indestructible. Hob, being the Himbo we know and love, and thinking how impressed Dream will be with his new muscles, says yes.

Cut to Hob in tight Spandex and other cute outfits being shipped to the front, where he is reunited with Dream. On a mission together, Dream falls off their train and is declared dead. What's worse, right before hia descent he told Hob he loved him.

Hob is devastated. His one true love is gone, there is little for him to move forward. Eventually he crushes into some ice, and is declared Deep Frozen, until 100 years later.

The reason he was defrosted? He is believed to be the only one able to go after The Winter Soldier, a deadly assassin hiding behind a horrifying mask who seems to be taking orders from some dark master he can't refuse. It's because his master, Burgess, is using some specific magic words and runes that bind Dream to him.

Yes, the Winter Soldier is Dream. Deprived of his memories, his empathy, his identity. Hob doesn't know who he is, and they fight, until during a hand-to-hand he curses a swearword that was an inside joke between him and Dream. The Soldier freezes, and in that split second Hob is able to remove his mask. Imagine his shock when he sees Dream, his Dream, staring back at him with no recognition. But it is Dream, without any doubt. Nobody has eyes this blue, lips this pink, skin this beautifully pale.

He weeps for his friend, both happy he is still alive but also desperate because he isn't his friend? The Soldier goes back to trying to kill him, and Hob is about to let him finish the job, he won't fight Dream, he won't hurt him ever ever ever.

That gives the Soldier pause, he doesn't understand why his target doesn't fight back. That gives Hob hope, that maybe his beloved is still in there.

How will Hob bring him back?

Ahhh, this is a great au for them!! Mostly because I want to see Hob’s butt in the spandex. He would definitely cheer on the morale of the troops!

And Dream would look so cool in the Winter Soldier gear, maybe with his hair grown out and flying wildly around his face. Fighting hard against the brain washing as he tries to remember why this unfamiliar man might be important to him. None of it makes any sense, and Dream is just so tired. Burgess doesn't let him sleep properly, and although it doesn't impact his physic capabilities, it's just another method of torture because his mind can't rest. He can't dream.

He stops fighting Hob, because he's confused and because he's tired. He steps back. Hob sees an opportunity, and he seizes it! He starts telling stories from their childhood. All the games they invented, the raven that Dream nursed back to health, all the times Hob got beat up by other kids because he defended Dream’s "weirdness". Everything he can remember, finishing up with the moment Dream finally declared his love for Hob. Hob is weeping the whole time as he speaks, and Dream just listens in stoic silence.

And then his eyes fix on Hob’s face. There's the barest hint of recognition amid those dazzling blue irises. He's fighting hard against the magic. "I never got to hear your answer. If you loved me too, or not." He whispers.

"I did." Hob manages to sob. "And I still do."

And maybe it's enough to break the magic, at least for a moment. And even if Hob can't save Dream, at least he'll know. That he's loved. Even if Hob can't save him, Dream will fight for that love with his own hands, until he's free of Burgess. Hob’s fought for Dream often enough, and now it's Dream's turn to fight for him.

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

Since it's a celebartion, can we get something where Tom surprises Harry for his birthday? I see a lot of Harry giving Tom gifts or surprising Tom but never the other way around. Thanks! Any kind of story au will do.

TY! ^-^

Fandom: HP Ship: Tomarry Rating: T-Rated AU: Alternate Universe - Same Timeline, No Voldemort TAGS: Birthday, Fluff, Pre-Relationship

~.O.~

The Point of Invention

It was going to be Harry Potter's birthday, and Tom had been invited to the party. And yes, it was considered a party because unlike many of the pompous Pureblood families, the Potters didn't host balls or fancy dinners where everyone was supposed to judge each other in respectable silence. It was just a party. A very muggle approach to such an event as well.

Harry had sent Tom the invitation personally, and he knew it because Harry's script was atrocious and very easy to differentiate between the writing of others. Theodore Nott had also received an invitation to the party and his invitation was made almost exactly the same except the words inside were all typed out perfectly, whereas Harry chose to leave Tom a personal note, which had to mean that he favoured Tom over the other potential guests.

As an orphan with nothing really to his name, Tom had to improvise on gifts.

He could not purchase anything that Harry would not already be able to purchase for himself. And Harry was incredibly intelligent and talented, so it wasn't as if he needed assistance with his classwork. Harry's mother, father, godmothers, godfathers, and other extended relations that weren't directly of the Potter line, all possessed Masteries in their chosen fields, so Tom had nothing to offer on whatever it was Harry decided on for his future as those in his life already had more information than he could hope to provide.

It was difficult, he'd admit.

To be perfectly honest, at least in the depths of his own mind, Tom hadn't really cared much about his own birthday, or the birthdays of pretty much anyone else at Hogwarts. The most ever he put in was getting everybody in his year's dorm room, gloves and a scarf, every Yule. He didn't put in any effort beyond that.

But this was Harry James Potter. Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, member of the Famous Witches & Wizards Trading Cards Club and Frog Choir, defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald, and currently the holder of the highest Defense O.W.L. grade in Magical Britain's history. It would feel wrong to give him an unimpressive gift. He wanted Harry's regard above all others after all. He had to prove to Harry that he was worth knowing.

Which meant Tom had to get creative.

Magic could do many things, and Tom's control of his magic was leagues above most everyone in Hogwarts, even the majority of the professors included.

If Tom put his mind to it, he'd succeed at anything.

And since he decided he wanted Harry Potter's attention and admiration, there wasn't left for him to do, but create. Harry wasn't swayed by Tom's pretty face, so maybe Tom's brilliance would say him instead.

~.O.~

"Tom... did you make me a magical mobile phone?" Harry asked, staring at the boxy item in his hand. It was decently heavy, but one side was completely made of smooth, obsidian glass.

"I tweaked the basic idea. As Two-Way Mirrors were also inspired by muggle creations, but can take a long time to react, I felt they were insignificant. Presently, muggles have advanced their mobile phones to be touchscreen-capable, carrying functioning cameras that can take both photos and videos, and connecting to the vast information highway of the internet. I have not figured out how the internet truly works in order to replicate connecting to it safely without placing our existence in danger, but this device can at least take photos and videos, as well as connect to the six others I have created for you to share without whomever you wish.

"The connection is instant, and they can record basic audio as well. Now, there is a connecting piece of equipment much like a muggle television. If you take a photo or video, you insert this cartridge into the device to copy it. You will then, much like a tape player, insert the cartridge into this slot under the big screen, and you will see/hear what your camera recorded."

Tom proceeded to, presumably, take a photo of Harry with one of the other 'phones', remove a cartridge from the base of the 'phone', and then insert it into the 'television'. Harry's baffled face was displayed in full colour, as well as the gaping people surrounding him at the party.

Somehow, in an attempt to create a birthday gift for Harry, Tom had managed to discover how to make photos appear in colour... with magic. They'd suffered with black and white and sepia photos for decades because magicals couldn't crack the secret behind colour photography.

After that, Tom demonstrated how to place a call, showing how well the receiver and speakers worked on the 'phones' he's created, and how Harry could use the camera, much like a smartphone in the modern muggle world, to start a video call. Like a more advanced Two-Way Mirror basically. And the screen was rather sizeable too.

A glance to the side showed his parents openly gaping, although his mother looked especially interested, eying Tom's inventions with eager eyes. She probably wanted to know what Charms he'd used. Or if he'd used Charms at all.

This was the most effort Tom had ever put into anything besides his grades and his reputation. They were friends of many years, and Harry admired him a lot, but to go to the trouble of improving upon an existing invention so Harry could use it to stay in touch with his loved ones more easily... That was far more than most would ever do.

This wouldn't benefit him in any way, yet he still went and did it. And it had to have taken him ages to work through considering his summer job took up half of his free time.

Distantly, he recalled that one time, Harry's mother Lily had informed him that in life, he should surround himself with those who 'loved him to the point of invention'.

Tom hadn't said those words specifically, but what else could it be? What else could he be saying with such a thoughtful gift? What else could he mean when he dedicated himself to learning how phones and televisions were made so he could replicate them magically?

Harry felt a sprig of warmth bloom outward from within, and he couldn't help but smile at Tom winningly. He then decided to tease Tom a little by kissing his cold cheek and making his face go bright pink with sudden warmth. "You're very sweet, Tom."

...And he might have broken Slytherin's future Head Boy. Just a little bit.

~.O.~

A/N: Thanks for reading! ^-^

Check out my Tomarry/Harrymort fics on AO3!

Watermelonsmellinfellon(Mister-Tom-A-Dildo-Lover)

[Ko-Fi]

[the-worrier-of-light]

Roevember #1&2: Name/Roots

Wilfreda Bos'nwyn

Sahja had just sat down to mend some clothing when the distinctive thunk-thunk of her husband’s workboots coming up the stairs pricked her ears. Odd—she thought—since his ship wasn’t supposed to return for another fortnight. While the weather had certainly been miserably stormy as of late, he had sailed through worse in the past without issue. Eyeing the door, the miqo’te quickly folded up her work and set it aside. Whatever the reason for his arrival, then, was sure to be far more interesting than needlecraft.

All at once, man and rain alike surged across the threshold as the cottage door blew open. Sahja’s husband, Arland, was soaked through, hair plastered to his forehead under a sodden cap. And yet, he was grinning wildly, his eyes glittering. In his arms he bore a mass of sailcloth, freely dripping from the rain.

“Sahj, my girl, ye won’t believe the cargo we picked up in Limsa this time!”

Sahja glared at him, but she couldn’t help smiling at his unexpected intrusion. “Whatever it was, it had better be worth you emptying the whole o’ the Rhotano onto my clean floor.”

“Bah! You’ll forget the floor, soon as you see this. Here, help me make some space.”

A table was cleared, and the Hyur placed his burden in the center. Sahja peered over his shoulder and watched as her husband, with unusual gentleness, began to unwrap the sailcloth. The bundle had several layers, and as more was removed, she could swear whatever was inside was… moving?

He paused before lifting the last of the sailcloth. “Sahja, I know you always dreamed o’ chasin’ after little ones, but that was something I was never able to give ye. Well, I reckon Nymeia finally smiled on us—”

A wail interrupted him, and Sahja’s eyes widened as she seized the last of the sailcloth and tossed it aside. Safely swaddled from the rain was another bundle of blankets... enveloping the largest baby she had ever seen.

* * *

“—So the bosun cracks open one o’ the produce crates, looking for the source of the mewlin’,” explained Arland. “No doubt expectin’ to find a kitten or some such. But what does he find but a bleedin’ baby! Thought he’d taken stock of one too many ales ‘til I saw her with me own eyes.”

“Who in the hells puts a baby in a crate in the first place?” wondered Sahja, exasperated. Her arms were exceedingly full as she struggled to hold a rag dipped in sheepsmilk to the squirming infant’s lips.

“Eh... probably some desperate brothel girl who couldn’t afford to keep ‘er, I’d wager.” Arland thoughtfully puffed away at his pipe, much drier after a fresh change of clothes and a seat by the fire. “Probably in a hurry too—left no note with the poor girl, not even a name.”

Sahja glanced up from the child. “She doesn’t have a name?”

“Well… She’s a Sea Wolf, obviously, so the lads have been callin’ her ‘Bos’nwyn,’ on account o’ the bosun being the one to find her. But seeing as the only names I ever invented were for ships, I figured I’d best leave the forename to you.”

A name. Sahja gazed down at the baby’s face, which had relaxed with the feeding. Her own name and those of her sisters had been passed down through their clan, but a Miqo’te name didn’t seem fitting for a Roegadyn child. On the other hand, Sea Wolf names were a mystery to her—apparently full of meaning in the old Sea Wolf language, but exposure had taught her only the most common words. No, it would have to be something else. Lost in thought, her eyes wandered to look at her husband, and an idea emerged.

“Your mother… her name was Wilfreda, yes?”

Arland’s eyes closed, and he smiled softly, lowering the pipe to his lap. “Aye, Wilfreda. She’d have been well pleased to have a granddaughter.”

“It’s a lovely name. Then, Wilfreda… Bos’nwyn, was it?”

Wilfreda Bos’nwyn, content at last, drifted to sleep in her new mother’s arms.

“Well now, our little turnip’s come home! Bring back any new tales for your ma and pa?”

[boyfhee]

⌕ TAKE TWO ━━ 24 : an odd solace

PRECIS. while riki constantly assured you that him being an idol under a different label wouldn't be an issue in your relationship, you start getting second thoughts when fans start shipping him with his co-mc at music bank.

w : angst this is the last time . trust . ( 1.6k )

n : written part below the screenshots ! happy reading ppl

you’re beginning to invent things lately. adding and subtracting from your memory, remembering things the way they should be, or rather, in a way you want to remember them. all the times you’ve seen riki and miya together is a blur, all the moments with jungwon are getting clear, all the moments with riki; they’re there, coming and going like random influx and efflux of ions, at random times of the day. processing things that way would be better, or so you thought. after all, they’re your memories, and you should be allowed to view them however you wish, deleting the ones you despise, but only if memories could be deleted.  

riki’s question still circles your mind, jogging around day and night— it has been three days since. saying you didn’t have an answer would be the half truth, claiming to have one would be half lie. in the end, you’re once again sitting with your hands full of confusion and what ifs. it’s one of the reasons why you think leaving for japan would be better.  

“i’m sorry for that day,” you whisper slowly, staring at your palms, hoping he could hear you. “i shouldn’t have done that,”

“it’s fine,” coming to the airport with jungwon wasn’t what you planned, but it happened anyway. in fact, he came much later, thirty-minutes or so, and now you both are waiting for you to leave. you feel the hesitation lingering around, the feeling of having so many questions but getting to ask none. been there, done that, you wish you could tell him that with a laugh, without feeling ashamed. 

“are you mad?” but you’re doing fine, actually. talking with riki, going through confrontations, you think you’re ready for a little more blame and regrets if jungwon directs them to you. maybe, it’s because of the acceptance of the fact that you deserve it, or perhaps you’ve just grown immune to feeling that over the past few weeks. 

“i don’t know,” he sighs, lips pressing into a thin line. one may think he’s talking to himself, but the next second, jungwon looked at you with an awkward smile. “well, it is my fault as well because i should’ve stepped back instead of giving in,” 

you almost forgot how pretty he looks when he smiles.

“still, i was the one who kissed you first,” for some reason, talking about it doesn’t feel awkward anymore. instead, it’s scary. are you touching a critical topic? maybe, and maybe, jungwon doesn’t want to talk about it but you do, because you have a lot to say. “you’re not a rebound. i used you and the feelings you have for me to make myself feel better without thinking about you even once, it was stupid. i’m not going to ask you for forgiveness,” but he will still forgive you. he’s too good, so much that he ends up apologising even if it’s not his fault. he’s too good for you. “all i want is for you to look after yourself a little. live for yourself, find someone who loves you the way you love them. you deserve better,”

and perhaps, you’re the one who took his smile away, even if it was for a little while. 

suddenly, you realise you never responded to his confession, not like it’s necessary. he knows the answer already, knew it the day he confessed. 

“is that why you’re leaving? because you think you don’t deserve me?” 

“i’m leaving because i need a break from all this. i need time to figure out my own thoughts. moreover, i’m going to be all over the news for at least a few weeks so, it’s better for me to fly back to japan and stay low for a while,” you explain with a nod, hoping that this time, you made the right decision. “but, yes, i don’t think i deserve you. you’re way too good, jungwon”  

you’re learning to speak his name with gratitude. jungwon has been there for you for as long as your memory takes you back. sometimes, it doesn’t feel like he has known you only for a little over a year. he feels too familiar, like someone you’ve known for centuries and far beyond. maybe that’s why he always felt so welcoming. you don’t think you’ve ever felt awkwardness with jungwon— apart from when you kissed him, of course. the second you saw jungwon, you found a friend in him, best friend, even, and riki, you and him, were inseparable. 

you wonder if things would’ve been the same if none of this ever happened.   

“make sure you tell riki’s mother about everything he did,” he snickers in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, a much needed attempt, might you add. you almost ran out of things to say. 

“hey, i am no better so i don’t get to complain,” 

“that’s right. you are heartless,” it’s a joke, you know, but a look into his eyes, and you see a hint of genuinity. honestly, even if he called you heartless and selfish, you wouldn’t mind. it’s the truth, you’ll have to accept it one day or another. the only point of this trip to japan is to accept your flaws and weaknesses and work on them so that you can return as a better person to the people you adore.

you’ve dealt with loss, walked side by side with your hands in his. you’ve wept on his shoulder, you’ve hugged him in sleep, you’ve been intimate with loss. you’ve been trying to come to terms with loss ever since you started seeing riki drifting away from you, ever since you realised your mistake and started seeing less of jungwon in your life. you don’t think you can ever experience love without loss, because you’re sitting here overflowing with love and no one to give it to. you’re sitting with your hands empty because of what you’ve lost, and you’re sitting so close to one of the few things you’ve lost that you’d kill to get back, but alas, you’ve already lost him. 

“do you really have to go?” he finally says the words he has been keeping in for hours. the truth is— jungwon hates you. you’re a coward. you had chances to fix things but you let your insecurities make decisions for you. jungwon thinks he’s going to hate you even more if you leave because he thinks the three of you can solve things out without having to create distances in between. distances never have resulted in anything good, you and riki are a good example. his heart knows what you’re doing is right, but his soul tells him otherwise. 

“it’s for the three of us,” and you give the same old response. you’ve said it so many times, it doesn’t feel like an explanation anymore. “we need to take some time for ourselves, away from each other,” 

the more you say it, the more it begins to sound like an excuse. 

jungwon chuckles in return. “okay, so how do i stay away from riki?” 

“uh, maybe you two can utilise this time to make amends,” okay, you do feel bad for being the reason why they aren’t as close as they used to be. riki and jungwon, the inseparable duo, the best friends who were attached to the hip all the time, they’re no longer the way they used to be and somewhere, you know you are to be blamed. not as long, definitely, because riki is equally responsible, perhaps jungwon too. you won’t make assumptions, you’ve never been good at those.

the boarding announcement goes off, you didn’t realise it’s time to bid goodbyes already. a part of you wishes the moment could last longer. you’ve missed jungwon, you’ve missed talking to him, you’ve missed hearing his voice. you’ve missed him so much over a weak, his absence didn’t miss you until now, and now that you’re leaving, you wish you could live this moment a little bit longer. 

you smile at him, getting your passport out of your clutch. “okay, it’s time now,” 

“it is,” and much to your pleasure, he smiles back. 

“see you soon,” another announcement goes off, another reminder that it’s time to let go. “don’t forget me,”

“i wish i could,” just yesterday, it felt like you both were losing track of nights, for you both were busy living in the moment. you remember staying up on nights gushing to him about things you liked and didn’t as you fought off sleep for another hit— another line of conversation. you’d tell him all the embarrassing moments from riki’s childhood, he’d send you pictures of your boyfriend that would add onto that list. but now you both are here, standing in front of each other with minds still living in the past. you’re walking away and it feels like a final goodbye. 

“jungwon,” you call his name, it feels like music to his ears. “thank you for falling for me,” 

and jungwon is back at his dorm, your words ringing in his ears over and over again. you’re probably listening to your favourite songs, or perhaps, you’ve already fallen asleep. he knows how sleepy you get on planes, riki didn’t miss anything when jungwon told him he wanted to get to know you better the first time you two met. jake and heeseung are playing video games on television but the living room feels oddly quiet. jungwon feels like his ears have gone numb, he’s walking towards riki’s room. 

a small conversation is shared in fluttering gazes, jungwon sits next to the younger boy. a few pats on the back— an attempt at consolation, an odd solace. both had their chances with love, both are heartbroken. jungwon is glad to have riki now that you’ve left.

and that makes the two of them.   

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[princesssarisa]

Adventures in Wonderland (1992-1995): a detailed list of the Mad Hatter and March Hare's "Ship Tease" moments, Season 1

@hathousehappenings, @spikrock

The Disney Channel's Adventures in Wonderland was one of my favorite childhood TV shows, and it's one that I love to revisit now as an adult. Not only do its charms still hold up, but I can see certain nuances now that I missed when I was younger. Namely, how much the show's versions of the Mad Hatter and the March Hare seem like an adorable gay couple.

Now of course they couldn't make it overt: this was a kids' show in the early '90s, so officially, they're just best friends. But their actors, John Robert Hoffman and Reece Holland, are both gay in real life, and from an adult viewpoint, it shows.

So I've drawn inspiration from the long list on the Recess Wiki of T.J. and Spinelli's "Ship Tease" moments to create a similar list for the Hatter and Hare. Every moment between them that's particularly affectionate, suggestive, domestic, or just plain cute in a way that's not quite typical of platonic male friends.

I've rewatched every episode of Season 1 and compiled the list below the cut. Warning: it's long.

Herstory in the Making: The show’s first Hatter/Hare scene would work just as well between a married couple, as they face having to do “the grocery shopping” (it seems the writers hadn’t established yet that the two of them don’t live together) and as each one tries to foist the job onto the other. Later, in the story that all the Wonderland characters write for Alice, the Hare is described as “handsome” – it’s easy to guess that the Hatter wrote that part.

Lip-Sunk: When the Hatter pours tea for the Hare and offers him lemon for it, they smile affectionately at each other, their faces close together, and then giggle.

Red Queen for a Day: Their role in this episode consists of arguing over whether tarts or cookies are best to serve at a tea party: the phrase “like an old married couple” comes to mind.

Objects d’Heart: When the Hatter reacts with horror to the Queen giving her ugly statue to him, the Hare grips his hand to steady him. (Granted, the White Rabbit also holds his other hand and pats his shoulder, but the Hare grasps his hand with both of his own.) Later, when the Hatter calls the statue “a stately stone statue, a carefully crafted carving, a magnificent monolithic modern masterpiece,” the Hare gushes “Amazingly awesome alliteration!” in an adoring tone. And at the beginning of the sculpture garden scene, the Hatter is standing with his elbow on the Hare’s shoulder.

Arrivederci Aroma: During their duet, “Goodbye, Old Paint,” the Hatter and Hare go behind a screen together, then emerge having changed out of their regular clothes into overalls for painting. Meaning that behind the screen, they undressed in front of each other. Later, at the tea table, we find the Hare adding a condiment (pepper) to the Hatter’s cup of tea – silly, yes, but still an affectionate, intimate gesture.

The Bunny Flop: When the Hatter and Hare admit that the Queen’s missing shoe isn’t in the attic, they cutely finish each other’s sentence.

Pop Goes the Easel: The Hare grips the Hatter’s shoulder as they face the Queen to make an excuse for postponing the portrait-unveiling, and again in the final scene as they invent an explanation for the salt container in the painting. Their dance in their duet, “Your Picture is Worth a Thousand Words” also includes some shoulder-holding. And in at the Hatter’s house, as they cover the portrait in protective coating, their arms tangle together as if they were playing Twister.

That’s All, Jokes!: The episode opens with the Hatter and Hare pranking each other: first the Hatter tricks the Hare into drinking iced tea from a dribble glass, and then the Hare tries to trick the Hatter into eating a hot cross bun with spicy chiles in it. As they offer each other the prank treats, each one leans very close to the other and entices him to taste it in a sensual way, and each prank hinges on how well they know each other’s tastes: the Hatter knows that the Hare loves tea with lemon, while the Hare knows that the Hatter loves hot cross buns. Then when Tweedle Dum eats the spicy bun instead, the Hatter and Hare clasp each other’s hands and shoulders as they laugh at him together. Later, in the penultimate scene, they cutely exchange silent nudges and pokes to get each other’s attention during the Queen’s speech, and as everyone backs away when the Queen’s temper starts to flare, the Hatter grabs the Hare’s arm.

Forget Me Knot: Nothing much, but they do sing a cute duet in matching fake moustaches, “Give Us a Call,” when the Hatter is disguised as “Professor Memory.” The Hare’s “photographic memory” also includes several photos of himself and the Hatter together.

Boo, Who?: The Hatter and Hare bake a cake together throughout their duet, “Cooking with Candy”: a cute domestic scene. Then when they become ghost hunters and set a trap for the “ghost” in the Queen’s palace, and are explaining it, the Hare crouches down and hugs the Hatter’s leg to stop him from stepping on the rubber duckie and setting it off the trap too soon – just grabbing his leg with his hand would have sufficed, but instead he gives it a full-body hug! Later, as they’re watching for the ghost at night, they huddle shoulder-to-shoulder next to the Queen’s throne. Also, the Hare asks the Hatter if he can keep the ghost as a pet. You’d think he could make that decision on his own, but he asks the Hatter’s permission, as if they were roommates… or something more. (Again, it doesn’t seem to be established yet that the Hatter and Hare live in separate houses.)

Double Your Bunny: The Hatter is first seen lounging in a Cleopatra stance on top of the tea table as he faces the Hare, who sits in the opposite chair.

Diary of a Mad Hatter: The episode opens with a domestic scene of the Hatter and Hare cleaning the Hatter’s attic together. The Hare starts it by telling the Hatter that the attic needs cleaning, then immediately picks up a feather duster and starts dusting. This leads them to discover Great-Grandhatter’s diary. Later, they cutely nudge each other and laugh together about how “trees don’t bite.”

How the West Was Wonderland: When the Hatter shows off his selection of cowboy hats, the Hare serves as his assistant, handing them up from under the table. Then when they learn that the Queen needs a horse, they put on a two-person horse costume, the Hatter playing the front end and the Hare playing the rear end: they wear it for the rest of the episode and even sing a duet inside it.

The Rules of the Game: When the Hare sneezes in the middle of their duet, the Hatter stifles it by holding his finger under the Hare’s nose: a stock comedy gesture, yes, but an awfully intimate one. Then when the Miwok players form two-person teams, the Hatter and Hare insist that “of course” they’ll be partners. And when they finally explain to Alice that you can change the rules of the game at any time, they cutely finish each other’s sentence, ending it by speaking in unison.

Something to Sneeze At: The whole storyline revolves around the fact that the Hatter and Hare can’t stand to be apart, and so they try and try again to find ways to be together despite the Hatter’s apparent allergy to the Hare. The Hatter calls him “my Hare” when he says that he doesn’t want to lose him, and their utter sadness at being forced to avoid each other is made clear throughout the episode. So is their utter joy in the end when they finally solve the problem. Also, during the Hatter’s second sneezing fit near the beginning, the Hare holds tissue after tissue to the Hatter’s nose with each sneeze. As with the Hatter stifling the Hare’s sneeze in the previous episode, you’d think an ordinary platonic friend would let him do that himself. And when they try to have a “TV party” (a proto-Zoom meeting from today’s perspective), the Hare asks, “How do I look?” and flaunts his face close to the camera for the Hatter.

Off the Cuffs: At the beginning before the Hare’s magic trick, the Hatter gives a big spiel and sings a musical number about what an amazing magician the Hare is. Then he serves as his assistant. Later, when the Hare finally remembers that the key labelled “This is not the key to the trick handcuffs” really is the key to the trick handcuffs, the Hatter affectionately exclaims “Hare, you are so clever!”

The Wonderland Enquirer: At the beginning of the Tweedles’ flashback, the Hatter is once again lounging Cleopatra-style on the table while the Hare sits beside him, and they sigh happily and smile at each other while remarking what a lovely day it is for tea and crumpets. Later, as they set the table for the next tea party, the Hare exuberantly praises the Hatter’s parties, first in dialogue, and then by singing a song, “The Host with the Most.” In the subsequent scene, when the Hatter cries because Alice won’t eat his crumpets, the Hare tenderly pats his shoulder, then grips his arm when they read the “Hatter Serves Stale Crumpets” headline in the paper.

The Hatter Who Came to Dinner: As the Hatter trims the Queen’s shrubbery, the Hare stands under the ladder and spots him, ignoring the leaves and branch pieces that shower down on him. After the Hatter hurts his back, the Hare fusses over him and looks after him throughout the rest of the scene, even saying “Ow, ow ow!” with him as if in sympathetic pain while helping him down from the ladder. The next day when the Hare comes back to visit the Hatter, and the Hatter first starts to get up from the bed during his solo song, the Hare gently tries to coax him to lie back down at first, like a spouse would. Then when the Hatter invites the Hare to stay at the palace with him, the Hare responds by leaping onto the bed and reclining next to him. And in the final scene, when Tweedle Dee says that what matters is that the Hatter is feeling better, the Hatter and Hare say the Hatter’s catchphrase, “How true that is!” in unison. (This episode also includes a scene of the Hatter sharing the White Rabbit’s bed at night, and in his sleep, he seems oddly determined to throw himself across the Rabbit’s body, then giggles as the Rabbit accidentally tickles him while trying to move him back to his own side.)

For Better or Verse, TechnoBunny: Nothing much, but these episodes do include two of the most fun Hatter/Hare duets: “Professional Diagnosticians” and “Robot Recipe,” respectively.

Party-Pooped: The Hatter/Hare feud episode plays out like a breakup, with all the other characters finally conspiring to bring their favorite couple back together. To begin with, the Hatter’s complaints about the Hare’s inconsiderate behavior sound almost like a stereotypical wife’s complaining about an inconsiderate husband, and he even claims that the Hare has “hurt [his] feelings.” Then as they argue about whether the Hare should apologize or not, their faces come very close together, almost close enough for a kiss: the TV Tropes phrase “belligerent sexual tension” comes to mind. (The show’s “blooper reel” has a funny alternate take of this moment, where the Dormouse calls them both idiots and orders them to make up, then adds “Happy Valentine’s Day!”) And after the Hatter calls the Hare “not my real friend” and the Hare storms away, the Hatter’s expression shows that he’s instantly horrified and remorseful, but his ego won’t let him admit it. During their split, it’s evident that they’re still preoccupied with each other; their chief focus is on hosting rival parties and each trying to outdo the other’s. The climactic party scene at the Queen’s palace is the real shipper’s field day, however. It looks like a Valentine’s Day party, with romantic-looking red heart decorations everywhere. Ostensibly this is just because the Queen is the hostess, but she’s never used heart decorations this lavishly before. Then the Hatter and Hare discover each other’s presence by accidentally finding themselves chest-to-chest. After they still snub each other, and the others huddle up to form Plan B, what they do in the background is worth noticing: despite the show they make of refusing to speak or look at each other, they still don’t leave each other’s side, and keep stealing stealthy glances at each other. Then, when the others confuse them, not only do they start speaking to each other without thinking, but the Hare even uses the Hatter’s usual catchphrase, “How true that is!” And when all the others startle them by exclaiming “Aha!” they instinctively grasp each other’s arms. Throughout Alice’s subsequent song, “Back on Speaking Terms,” she and the other characters try to literally push the Hatter and Hare into each other’s arms, and try to join their hands too, no matter how many times they pull away. And at the end, after getting caught up in the dance, the Hatter and Hare finally voluntarily join hands, which is followed by their finally making up.

Up and Anthem: The Hatter and Hare end “The Wonderland Polka” by leaning against each other shoulder-to-shoulder.

Pretzelmania: When the Hatter and Hare react with shock to Alice guessing that their invention is a pretzel machine, the Hare grabs the Hatter’s arm and shoulder. They also do a little arm- and shoulder-grabbing during the reveal of the pretzel machine. The Hare grabs the Hatter’s arm again at the reveal that the Queen’s ring is missing, while the Hatter puts a comforting/steadying hand on the Hare’s shoulder after they, the Rabbit, and Alice accidentally knock their heads together. Then, when the Hatter says “Search me!” (meaning “I don’t know”), the Hare takes it literally, and starts patting and examining the Hatter’s jacket and chest to search for the ring, with the Hatter willing and happy all the while.

White Elephant Sale: Nothing much, but they do sing a nice duet, “White Elephants into Gold,” which ends with the Hare calling the Hatter (and the Hatter calling himself) “a very brilliant guy.”

Rip-Roaring Rabbit Tales: The Hare grasps the Hatter’s arm and shoulder when the White Rabbit says he’s come on official business.

Happy Boo Boo Day: Again, the Hare grabs the Hatter’s arm a couple of times during their duet “Shh, Surprise!”

What Makes Rabbit Run: Nothing much, but they do sing a fun duet and have cute moments of finishing each other’s sentences.

Friday the Umpteenth: The episode opens (after the theme song) with the Hatter and Hare together in domestic mode, cleaning the Dormouse’s teapot. Then, after they learn about Friday the 13th’s “bad luck,” they spend most of the rest of the episode in a state of anxiety, and frequently grab each other’s arms and shoulders.

Pizza de Resistance: Nothing much, but they do sing a fun duet, “It’s All Up Here,” and share a domestic scene as they cook their “pizza” (meatloaf) together.

A Litter Help from My Friends: They sing another fun duet, “A Picnic on a Bun,” where they build a giant submarine sandwich together, and at one point playfully “fence” with the knives. Then, when the White Rabbit says they have a big problem and the others gather anxiously around him, the Hare grabs the Hatter’s shoulder.

Busy as a Spelling Bee: The Hare precisely remembers the last time the Hatter went bowling and what he was wearing. Then when they decide to go put on their bowling clothes, the Hare says, “Let’s split!” and the Hatter replies “Spare me.” And their duet, “Pick a Word, Any Word,” ends with them sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.

Hic-Hic Hooray: Nothing much, but their duet, “Just Another Miracle of Modern Science,” does include shoulder-touching, and at one point the Hatter grooms the Hare’s ears for him while he looks in a mirror.

He’s Not Heavy, He’s My Hatter: First, there’s the title, if we assume it’s from the Hare’s perspective: “my Hatter.” Within the episode itself, the Hare comfortingly pats the Hatter’s shoulder when he cries about how tempting it is to eat cookies, and staunchly keeps his promise to the Hatter to hide the cookies and not let him eat any more. At the end, when the Hatter realizes he’s lost weight from all the exercise he got looking for the cookies, the Hare proudly exclaims “You’re so smart, you fooled yourself!” and in the song “It’s Great to Be in Shape,” he sings “We like that eye appeal” about the Hatter’s slimmed-down figure.

Invasion of the Tweedle Snatchers: Twice when the “aliens” first speak to the Hatter and Hare, the terrified Hare leaps up into the Hatter’s arms and the Hatter holds him “bridal style.” And even after the Hatter puts him down, they still cling to each other in fear. Throughout the whole episode, as in other episodes they spend in a stage of anxiety, they repeatedly clutch each other’s arms and shoulders.

Bubble Trouble: When the Hatter and Hare come to dip their “tootsies” in the spring, the Hare tickles the bottom of the Hatter’s foot and the Hatter giggles. Later, they share a domestic scene with the song “Scrub-a-Dub-Dub,” as they wash dishes together.

Welcome Back Hatter: The episode opens with the Hatter and Hare making a list of all the things they plan to do together, and then they talk extensively to Alice about how inseparable they are. As the Hatter says, “Has a Hatter ever had a better friend?” he puts his arm around the Hare and pulls him close. But then, of course, the plot kicks in: the Hatter wins a far-away castle in a contest and prepares to move. Throughout the episode, the Hare is utterly heartbroken, yet for the Hatter’s sake he tries to seem happy for him and urges the others to do the same. Meanwhile, the Hatter is too ecstatic about his new castle at first to see the Hare’s sadness or realize his own sadness at leaving him, but gradually it sinks in. First, in the attic, he consoles the Hare by assuring him that he can come visit him; then, after the Hare leaves at the end of the scene, the Hatter has a delayed reaction to the Hare’s remark that the castle will have everything “…except me,” and gazes after him, then looks deeply troubled. In the same scene, the Hare’s “By the way, Hatter… I hope you love your new castle” reads almost (or maybe entirely) like an aborted declaration of love. Ditto for their eventual goodbye, where they both pretend to be happy but clearly aren’t at all. Meanwhile, the Hatter leaves his house and all his belongings to the Hare as a gift. But after he leaves, the Hare can’t bear to move in because there are too many memories and is too depressed even to drink tea. But inevitably, the Hatter comes back in the end: it turns out that all he won was a tiny toy castle. Their joyful reunion features the ultimate musical tribute to their bond, the duet “Welcome Back, Hatter,” with the refrain “Hatter and Hare, quite a pair!” The song is set to a montage of funny Hatter/Hare moments from throughout the season, which the two of them watch on Crystalvision, patting and grasping each other’s arms as they laugh nostalgically all the while.

[ducklooney]

Hiya! Dunno if you're the right person to ask, but since you seem to like Gyro Gearloose as much as I do, do you think that he should have a love interest? Now, I know most people ship him with Fenton and I know he used to have multiple girlfriends in comics (like Dana Data or Mathilda) but none of them were used afterwards (they were just one-shot characters I think) nor were really his "type" in my opinion. I remember some years ago, I had an oc that was supposed to be Gyro's "female counterpart" (like most of Duckverse/Mouseverse characters' love interests are) and a girlfriend but it kinda failed, I plan on redesigning her soon. However I've seem some people headcanoning him as asexual what I'm fine with, but I still think it would be a fun idea to imagine what his actual love interest would look like if it was canon

Hi! Yes, Gyro is one of my favorite characters. No, you've asked a good question since Gyro doesn't have a longtime love interest like Donald has Daisy. Usually many Gyro fans ship Gyro with male characters and not only Fenton but also Donald, Fethry, Gladstone, Mad Ducktor and others. Yes, I know that there are mostly disposable girls in comics, but in my opinion Gyro has a corresponding love of the opposite gender. And that he has his own love interests that have appeared more than once. In my opinion, they would be some of these characters:

Dickie Duck - Paperetta Ye Ye Dickie is a college girl in her early 20s and she is the granddaughter of Goldie O'Gilt from the Italian and Brazilian comics. Gyro is roughly between 25 and 30, but the two can really relate. Gyro is mostly kind to Dickie and seems quite shy. It was best shown in the comic strip Ducks on the Road where Gyro, Dickie and Daisy go on a tour of the USA playing music from the 1960s and 1970s and there Gyro and Dickie literally love each other. I think they would work well.

2. Genialina Edy Son

Most people don't know who she is, so I'll just say she's mostly a seamstress and fashion designer and the lead costume designer for Super Daisy (She-Venger or Paperinika). Just as Gyro serves Duck Avenger for gadgets and his costume, so does she for Paperinika. I think in an Italian comic (it's called Topolino) that she and Gyro love each other, so they really have similar personalities and I think they can relate together. And they are the same age if I'm not mistaken. She was created by Giorgio Cavazzano and that she used to be a student of Gyro around inventing gadgets and as I said before they can really be together.

3. Unnamed female chicken from Sir Gyro de Gearloose episode from Ducktales 1987

Unfortunately, her name is not known, but in my opinion she is also an excellent partner for Gyro. She only appeared once to get her toaster fixed but it ended up breaking so she was mad at Gyro whom she called Gyro "Gadget boy". Later when Gyro and Donald's nephews came back from medieval times she came to apologize and Gyro fixed her toaster and she gave him a bouquet of flowers as a sign of apology. Or was it the other way around, I can't remember exactly, but she's certainly a great partner for Gyro, but unfortunately she doesn't have a name, so she could be called anything.

4. Dr Sara Bellum

Yes, that's her name, even before her namesake in the series The Powerpuff Girls and the same namesake in the Carmen Sandiego series. It's just that she's from Darkwing Duck and she's an extremely excellent scientist who is the head of S.H.U.S.H.'s research division and works for S.H.U.S.H. organization against F.O.W.L. She is also clumsy at times and her inventions go awry. Smart and stupid at the same time, but her desire is to win the Nobel Prize and she is really very pleasant. And somehow she reminds of scientists from the Far East who came to America. Of course she and Gyro never met or met except maybe in the Dangerous Currency comic (crossover Ducktales and Darkwing Duck comic), so I can't say for sure, but I definitely think she and Gyro would get along great and maybe Gyro would work for S .H.U.S.H. to have the opportunity to do so. Since I usually cross sometimes Darkwing Duck with Donald Duck as well as their characters so why not with Gyro with Dr. Sara Bellum. In my opinion, the same ideal pair, although more like my headcanon, but it depends how for whom.

5. Della Duck

It sounds twisted, but I can really make the two of them work. Granted, this was only in Ducktales 2017, where the two really didn't have a good relationship, considering Della was stuck on the moon for ten years and used Gyro's Black Licorice invention to survive and when she got back to Earth she was supposed to takes revenge but only one episode had Gyro almost attack Della (I think it's in the Timephoon episode but I'm not sure) so she fought back. Unfortunately, there was no interaction between the two of them in that series, but I could have made that couple work, even though I don't ship them. I'm wondering if Gyro is the father of Huey, Dewey and Louie from Ducktales 2017 since he took Della Duck's DNA and cloned them. Again this is purely theoretical and my hypothesis.

As for comic book Gyro and comic book Della, they get along very well, even Gyro managed to speak with Della Duck in a Dutch comic dedicated to the 80th anniversary of Donald Duck and his birthday. Although they didn't talk much, Huey, Dewey and Louie talked more with their mom, but certainly if Della Duck came back to Earth they could work together as a good couple, in my opinion.

Source: https://imgur.com/a/family-ties-della-duck-debut-comic-3iGqH

That Gyro has other girlfriends, although I can't remember exactly what their names are and which one would be right for him. It's not a problem if Gyro is with an OC (original character) either, so it all depends on who you pair him with.

These are just my suggestions and my views as I see it. I hope I helped you and I apologize to others if this bothers them, this is just my opinion. I hope you are satisfied with my answers and if something is not clear to you, feel free to ask me. :D

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Happiness - Part 3 - Final Part

Fandom: LOTR Ship: Eomer x F!Reader Trope: Arranged marriage Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Word counts: 6 773

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

When you woke up the first time, the bed was warm but empty. The sun outside was barely visible behind the mountains, but Eomer was already gone. A sigh escaped your lips, as you snuggled deeper into the covers. It still smelled like him, crackling fire and sex mixed in a musky embrace. You would not be getting out of bed anytime soon, your eyes fluttering close. The second time you woke up, the sun was higher up, but not all that much. A sound had woken you up, a door closing if you could recall. A dip in the bed made you frown before a soft kiss was placed on your naked shoulder. You could smell the spring’s arrival in the air, rain and wet earth as Eomer’s hand slid around your waist, his clothes soft against your back, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

“Good morning, lover.”

His hands were on yours making this place the only one you would be all day if you could. Upon turning around, you were met with a sincere smile and a kiss on your forehead.

“Good morning, Eomer.”

His name in your mouth was the only music he ever wanted to hear.

“Still not pregnant I gather?”

You laughed at the question. You touched your stomach, as if in search of something.

“No, I don’t think so. Would you mind if we tried again?”

He arched a brow, a mischievous smile appearing on his lips, his eyes shining with something you knew to be lust. It mirrored your own.

“Right now?”

You nodded eagerly, laughing when he pulled his tunic off, grabbing your body, caressing every valley and crease. He made good on his promise to be good to you. That day and all the others too. Nights were spent in his company, sometimes just reading in peace, together. Sometimes you were having diners with your parents, hosting diplomatic venues. Others you were dragging him out of his office, by any means necessary, more often than not finding yourself naked on his desk (or against the door). Even as king, he made it a priority to be with you as much as he could, especially after you made him sleep on his own when he prioritized a meeting with your own father over you.

As the winter months came, your appetite only grew. Nausea plagued you in the mornings, and before you could tell for sure, both your mother and Gera as well as the midwife confirmed it. You were with child.

“Eomer?

-Yes?”

You put your hand around your stomach, smiling brightly. It took nothing else from you for him to understand. He embraced you, kissing you deeply, now even more careful than ever as if in the span of a minute you had turned into fragile glass.

That night was spent around the fireplace, talking about future names.

“I was thinking, if it’s a girl, we could go for Brunhilde?

-My mother’s name? What did you do?

-Nothing that could grant her to be angry with me, I assure you.”

His false air of innocence earned him a hit against his chest, half-hearted while you laughed to yourself, wondering what could have happenned for him to suggest such an old fashion name - and that just to appease your mother’s desires.

Eomer turned even more protective of you as the weeks kept on, as you were running around the castle, helping everywhere and anywhere you could.

As you usually would, but he would have none of it. Especially when his sister gave birth, and you asked, begged, insisted to go see her even if it meant that you would go without him.

“I promise to be careful.

-I know you will be, I know my knights will be too. It is not that I am worried about.”

You frowned, unsettled by his words. He was already laughing around the words of his answer, grabbing your hands.

“It is me. How will I cope, these days without you? Without your touch and your care? How am I supposed to survive?

-You will manage I believe. Don’t act like a child. I cannot have two children to watch over once this one is born.”

He arched a brow before pulling you onto his lap and kissing you deeply.

“All things considered, I might just not let you go see this nephew of ours.”

The way he mentioned off-handedly the fact that he was both yours never failed to bring butterflies to your stomach. Instinctively, you smoothed your hand over your belly. His hand joined yours in a pleasant embrace. He kissed your forehead, leaning into you.

“I will miss you. I will join you in the next few days. Sooner, if I can.”

As his hand was drawing soothing circles where it rested, you let your head fall against his shoulder, lulled into a dreamless sleep.

The day before the departure was a heavy one. You had finished packing for the week, hoping the gifts you brought with you would be enough.

“My love, you are going to spoil the child.

-Better that than nothing. He is not mine, if he grows to be incredibly annoying I’m not the one who will have to handle his moods.”

Eomer’s laughter echoed through the room.

“I do hope, for my brother in law’s sake, that it is not the case.”

Before going to bed, you pulled out an extra blanket for the travel, the weather turning chilly this time of year.

In the middle of the night, you awoke to a sharp pain in your abdomen. Only thinking it was another pregnancy symptom, you slipped out of to fetch some water. You did not make it that far. A cry escaped your lips as you found yourself kneeling over on the ground.

“What is it?”

Eomer woke up when you left the bed and now worry was taking over his better instincts. His words were met with silence. Anguished, he reached out for you, in vain. He lit up the candles. What he found was what his nightmares wished they could conjure.

You were on the floor, sobs escaping you without a sound as if you were biting your tongue. Your hands were gripping the sheets at the edge of the bed. A fever seemed to be running through you. What he would never be able to erase from his memory was the pool of blood between your legs, staining the floor, your nightgown, your legs. Without thinking, he caught you in his arms, your tears wetting his chest as he went and called for the healers.

You could barely move. The pain was so strong, you thought you were going to die. Eomer’s hand was the only thing keeping you tethered to this world. The words of your mother’s prayers accompanied you as the night grew into a new day. She, as well as yourself knew what was happening even before they told you. The midwives were keeping their heads down, wiping the blood from their hands. They had given you a sedative for the pain, waiting until morning to see if you would live. It was not what you wanted. At that moment, all you wanted to do was die, just like your baby had; a part of yourself gone with them.

Dawn brought news of your miscarriage to the population. The infirmary was soon replaced by a bedroom, Eomer’s ever-watchful eyes never leaving you the whole time. From then on, your shared bedroom was abandoned, the home to this memory too vivid at the forefront of your mind. The names you had uttered and wished for, how they would look like with Eomer’s smile, a whole life in front of them. Now, they were gone, no more incarnation than a breeze in summer. Torture would have been kinder.

*

Days passed in a blur, winter morphing into spring and then summer and autumn again. Only Gera, your mother and Eomer could approach you. You were thankful he never insisted you talk to him, just sitting with you, sharing his days, and his concerns even when you would not answer.

You only ever left your bed to wash, change into another nightgown and go back. The maids were going in and out of your room changing your sheets and collecting your dirty clothes. It lasted so long, your parents feared for your life. Eomer’s concern could be seen even from a distance, and the whispers of the maids and the midwives were driving you insane.

As spring grew, your body took his own pace again. Your period came back. Eomer was the one to sleep with you when it happened. He felt helpless, cradling your head against his chest, soothing the pain however he could, panic taking you over, uncontrollable tears streaming down your cheeks. It was the final straw, the blood a sign of final death for that baby you lost, as well as a trigger to that night you would never forget.

Another morning in the winds announcing the beginning of winter, another day of loneliness. Eomer had gone to Gondor, explicitly demanded by King Aragorn concerning raids happening at their borders. He was more worried than he had let on to you. He had no choice but to go. You thought it would provide clarity for him, maybe a breath of fresh air, companionship…

All the things you knew you had deprived him of in the last few months.

Gera entered your room carrying a full plate of food at midday, even though she knew you would barely touch it.

“Your Highness, your breakfast is here.”

It was difficult from your windows to see what was happening downwards. The marketplace inside the city was full, but you could not see who was there, the snow covering the ground and shops in a thin and solid layer, as snowflakes kept falling.

“Thank you, Gera.”

The old woman gasped upon seeing your face, before shutting her mouth closed. She knew her place and you hated it. You had not slept that night, your lids becoming heavy without ever letting you rest.

“Milady, if I may be so bold, you should go get changed.

-I am fine, Gera.”

Her eyes stilled for a moment, reminiscing something you could not see. Her tone became commanding, solid stone against you. She would not let you fall into the abyss like this.

“No, you are not.” She put down her tray on a nearby table. “You have not been since the miscarriage. I know I am out of line, but I refuse to let you wither away like this. You will get dressed and you will accompany me outside. I am not asking.”

Stunned, you could not answer her, even when anger and frustration took you over. You knew she would not let it go. Even more so, when she came back with your mother. Her eyes told you more about your state than your own could.

All the dams had broken in her. She was crying and you received her with open arms, finding yourself crying on her shoulder. Only then did you realize, that seeing you like this must have broken her heart into a thousand pieces. What selfish person would put their mother through such pain? All those years and now you knew her grief, now you knew why she could not stop talking about her children passing. They were ghosts accompanying her everywhere she went. Present until her last breath.

Soon, you found yourself embracing one another, kneeling on the ground. Gera helped you get back up, all sniffles and tears herself. As she was about to bow out, you grabbed her forearm, asking for her to sit with you. She did not leave.

Silently, you all shared the food left on the table, hands clasped over theirs in a sign of gratitude. You spent the rest of the day with both of them, strangely accommodating one another, going out and cooking again, for the first time in months. It had been so long since you left your room, you wondered for a moment if you’d remember where to go. Gera was quick to guide you, as your mother kept talking and talking about how the winter had been so cold this year, the older women distracting you from any semblance of loneliness.

They were a bowl of fresh air, soothing your pain a little bit of gossip and tea, at a time.

*

Eomer’s trip had been silent. Leaving you was the hardest thing he could do. Initially, he had planned to refuse. You were the one who had insisted, telling him he could not put his duty on hold any longer. Seeing his sister felt like a balm to his heart but, when he saw his nephew’s face, his heart broke all over again.

The child was a mere babe still, babbling away at random things, throwing food around. He had been named after a Stewart of Gondor, Thorondir.

He had his mother’s eyes, vivacious and rebellious. He had been letting the boy play with his hair, letting him get it tangled and wet with his slobber. That night, the dark had been quiet, the bird abandoning the planes reaching beyond where his eyes could see. He was thinking of all the memories you both had conjured for that child, the ones that would never come to be.

The night he had found you, his first concern was that he was going to have to watch you die. All the blood you lost had clung to his skin as if it had been his own wound.

After learning of your loss, he knew he had failed you. You were clear with him from the very beginning: you wanted a family. Your dedication and self-sacrifice never ceased to make him proud of you, but what good it did to you, he did not know. His heart clenched, the babe in his arms lulling himself to sleep against his chest. He brought him back to Eowyn, her face a haven of happiness if he had ever seen one. But he had seen one. Yours. Before all of this had happened.

His sister’s hand startled him.

“Lost in thought brother?”

She was putting Thorondir in his cradle, soundly asleep, ever so careful with the small being when she added.

“If you are doing what I think you are doing, let me tell you one thing: this was not your fault. Miscarriages are more common than you would know.

-I…” He stopped, tears forming in his eyes. It stunned Eowyn to silence, her brother never one to show vulnerability before. “I was so helpless… Useless. For all I am, I could not be that for her. I could not be there as I should have.”

The lump in his throat kept him from speaking.

“When I left, her voice was so faint, so frail… She made me promise to keep warm.”

He chuckled, despair distinct in the undertones of his voice.

“Even when so low, she still manages to show care and love for me. I fear she believes I might leave her. I have never felt so lost in my entire life.”

As he was whispering those words, the door opened revealing Faramir, slightly flushed by the evening air, accompanied by somebody Eomer recognized immediately. He stood to his feet in a hurry.

“Your Highness.

-You may ease Eomer. I am here as a friend.”

Aragorn was only wearing his ranger’s attire. He closed the door behind him, Faramir offering him a cup of wine he accepted gratefully.

They all settled a little further away into the rooms, around an oval wooden table, to not wake the babe. Smoke was starting to gather above their heads when Aragorn spoke again.

“When we met earlier, you did not say how much the loss of your child was affecting you.”

Upon his arrival, the King had assured him his thoughts were with him and his wife for their loss. Eomer stayed silent, not feeling capable of articulating any words capable of qualifying what he felt.

“Not many people know this, but Arwen and I found ourselves in a similar situation. She was barely aware she was with child when they were ripped from us.”

Eomer’s tears were making him ache deep inside his chest. For your touch. For you. Who you were before this tragedy. Who he was before too.

“Her grief was overcoming. Her soul shattered. So much so, I feared I was losing her.”

Eowyn and Faramir were gripping each other’s hands, her head resting on his shoulder, as she was watching over her brother, again powerless in helping him grieve.

“Time and only time can heal this wound. The only thing you can do is be there for her, and you must know that your grief is shared amongst the people at this table.

-And I am thankful for that, my lord. Alas, I am at my wits’ end. Every time I leave her room, I fear she… I fear I will find her body the next time I open the door.”

Aragorn’s hand reached for Eomer’s shoulder.

“I know. This fear I have had myself. I know it all too well. In truth, my friend, it will never really pass. All you can do is support her in any way she needs. But I trust you to do so if you have not already.”

The Rohirrim smiled sadly, brows furrowed.

“Only someone who has felt the same thing she has can understand her pain. If she is able, let her know that Arwen would be willing to talk with her on the matter. Considering she just gave birth, moving will not be an option but she offered to write letters.

-This is ever so kind, your Highness.”

He smiled, understanding shining through his eyes.

“No. My wife is the kind one. I am merely the messenger.

-Then, If I may be so bold, thank her for me. And for her.”

These exchanges lasted long into the nights Eomer stayed there and by the end, the pain had receded, the guilt hiding in the nights he could not sleep.

Suddenly, the cold breeze of winter hit Eomer at full force, made him shiver and snapped him out of his memories. The lights of Edoras were dimmed by the snow, he had never been so happy to see them again.

At last, it meant he would see you again.

* “Eomer!”

His steps had first led him to your chambers, and what he found there surprised him. Your mother, Gera and two women he did not know were there, playing a game of cards. You looked less pale than the last time he had seen you and even if your smile did not quite reach your eyes, your embrace was as fierce and strong as he remembered.

“How much I’ve missed you, my love.

-Me too.”

His eyes wandered around the room, bewildered. Feeling somewhat guilty, you pulled him aside.

“I… I hope this is alright. Finding myself in their company when I can’t sleep is very helpful.”

A warmth grew in his chest. Like a flower, you were blooming again, cared for and surrounded by people who only wanted the best for you. He knew you were in good hands. He only hoped to help you grow again from now on.

“You are usually there but since you were not I…

-It is quite alright. I am happy to see you smiling again. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

His lips met the crown of your head, in a departing gesture. You stopped him, a strong sense of longing inside of you.

“We are almost done. Would you wish to stay? I have missed you greatly these past few days. Sleeping without you is…”

His embrace drowned all your worries in a second.

“Of course, I will stay.”

Once the game ended - won by Gera, of course - and the women were gone, Eomer helped you get into your nightgown, before stripping his clothes and going to bed with you. You settled between his legs, his chest to your back. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, before laying down, sleeping a dreamless sleep entangled with you.

After this, Eomer had made a point of spending even more time with you. Going as far as playing cards with the women who surrounded you now. Their names came easily to him when meeting them outside of your “reunions”. One was a merchant’s daughter, she had been married to a man of Rohan long before you, around your age named Hilde and the other was Gera’s daughter, Sofia. He was only now realizing how lonely you had been from the very beginning of your marriage, without the company of other women. Of friends.

You were astonished by the Queen’s offer. It was with a feeble hand you had written the first missive to her. Arwen was a delight. She offered advice and empathy, bonding with you through that shared experience. It was enlightening to understand this situation to be one of many and not only yours, especially considering the envy surrounding the new Queen. She had been somewhat like you, losing her people and embracing a new one she had to learn the ways of. Gracefully some would say. With force and determination, you had come to know. Throughout these exchanges, you formed a deep-rooted friendship akin to the one you had with Eowyn, despite the distance.

Days passed, weeks even bringing the warm air of spring with each passing moment, but something was still missing from your life. Your husband. He was there. Always there for you. You had talked about the grief and sorrow this loss had given you. He had been honest and gentle, always listenning to you.

Never had you mentioned the idea of trying for a child again. Yet, the idea was growing in you, each day, watered by the tales of your friends about their children. The subject was a difficult one, and you were still frightened at the thought that you could lose it again. Yet, even without the idea of having heirs, you were missing Eomer’s touch more than anything. It got lonely, the nights he would spend with you without so much as an attempt to be intimate with you. You dreamed of it, waking up at odds hours of the night, not even entertaining the idea of relieving yourself from this agony.

The desire in you was restless and you could not seem to be able to bear it any longer.

A knock on the door startled Eomer awake. Engrossed in his letters, he had not seen you standing there, nor heard you calling out his name.

“Good morning.”

The soft kiss you placed on his cheek made him warm and yearning for more. Even the faintest touch would light that fire in him. It had been so long since you had shared intimacy, he feared he would not remember how to please you.

“Good morning.”

Your hands were fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves, eyes cast away from him. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him how much you desired him to be with you again. All those words were neat and in order in your mind. To pull them out of there was a whole other story.

When his eyes were met by your avoidance, his eyebrows furrowed, jaws tightening resisting the urgent feeling of worry deep within his chest.

“What is it, my love?”

The sweet nothings. The sweet nothings were always the things that made you want him the most. Need him the most. He excelled in the art of body language but those words were the only triggers you needed for your body to want him.

He rose to his feet, taking your hands in his. The warmth spread in your cheeks, while his eyes were racking your face in search of what had happened. You gripped his hands tighter in yours, not looking at his face. You would have to face him at some point. You were a Queen after all. Queens did not hide, nor shamed from what they wanted.

Keeping that thought in mind, your grip tightened even more on his hands, before traveling up his chest, where your fingers weaved themselves on the linen of his shirt.

Your tone was so soft, lips red from nervous biting, eyes looking at him from under your lashes. Eomer’s train of thoughts entirely stopped when you pushed yourself up, your lips to his ear. The urgency in your words did not help.

“I want you, now, husband. Or I am going to lose my mind.”

In an instant, he had you over his shoulder his arms secured around your waist, while you were laughing at the audacity. Not one person you stumbled upon while you regained your shared room said a thing about the uncanny position you were in. Once arrived, he let you down, only to dive into your neck, nipping your skin there, while his hands were undoing your corset’s bonds.

“How much I missed you… How I missed your touch…”

There was a hunger in his words that made you ache for him deep in your heart. You grabbed onto his face, meeting his lustful eyes. Despite the presence of desire there, the ever-present adoration had made an appearance too. How much you wanted this man, or how much you cared for him could not be carried into any language known to mankind. Against his lips, you whispered “I love you” in a weak attempt to pour all those feelings somewhere, anyway. He kissed you ferociously, biting lightly on your lower lip. Eomer’s hands grabbed your dress, all but tearing it down from your body. His fingertips found their way up and down your spine, shivers following in their paths. On the other hand, you could not get him to take off any of his clothing which was infuriating you more than anything.

“Eomer…

-Yes, my love?”

Another breathless kiss made you dizzy, as he was expertly walking you back against your bed. You managed to stop him somehow.

“Eomer, get naked, now.”

He smiled against your collarbone, ever so smug in his ways, knowing perfectly the effect he had on you. Nonetheless, he obeyed you in a heartbeat, before pulling you down with him on the undone mattress.

His skin was littered with kisses, leaving behind traces of your passage in the form of bruises he would be unable to hide after the facts. He heaved a sigh at the feeling of your hands on him, the wet sounds of your mouth making him harder than he already was. Before he could stop you, your wicked and sinful tongue languidly wrapped itself around the tip of his cock and he jerked involuntarily against you. He was about to speak, when you pulled him inside your mouth, your hands wandering down his shaft in leisured and measured caresses. He was speechless, mouth dry, running only on the sound of your ministrations and the pleasure it elicited in him.

The whimpers he let out could have made you come in an instant. As much as you liked pleasuring him, you could not wait any longer to have him inside you, rocking his hips violently against yours. You were more than ready for it.

He knew what you wanted the moment you stopped to hover above him, teasing his tip with your wet mound. He cursed under his breath, making you giggle. He loved that sound almost as much as the ones you made in pleasure.

Now, under him, his hair was tickling your breasts in an ever-languishingly slow dance as he positioned himself before you. One movement of his hips and he was inside you. After that, it was impossible to keep yourself from meeting him in rhythm with his thrusts, tearing your name out of him as many times as you could. Your hands were clawing at his back, earning grunts and moans from him. You could feel him hit that spot every time he dragged himself in and out, completely seethed into you, filling you up until you could not tell what day it was.

The rapidly growing coil inside of you finally snapped, your back arching against him, and your mouth opened in a cry. As he felt you clenching around him, his hips stopped and the warmth of his semen sept inside you.

Eomer stayed there, not moving. He met your eyes, a deep frown there and a smile on your face. How he had missed that smile in that light, in that bed, with the feeling of you all over him. He pulled out soon after, tucking you under his chin, the beddings spread around you, modesty long forgotten. The pad of his fingers was a little rough against your skin, leaving trails of shivers behind.

You warmed yourself up in his embrace, pulling a sheet up for good measure. No words were needed when he looked down at you, content and happy, sharing a tender kiss with him.

After that occurrence, you resumed your intercourses almost daily. If a meeting was boring him, he would sneak out and find you. It came to the point, when you were certain every person living within these walls had seen or heard you at some point. Including, to your greatest dismay, your parents.

Upon entering the second year of your marriage, you found yourself pregnant again. Not so unlike the first time, you knew that you were with child but somehow you knew you would bear the child into this world against all odds. Still, the sickness overcoming you, the first months were spent on bedrest, to your greatest regret.

Hilde kept you company while Sofia was talking your ear off about the gossip she’d heard. Your mother and Gera were more silent, always looking at your stomach as if in fear fate would repeat itself. Even when you told them it would not. Specifically, then.

When you finally managed to get up and eat food without rejecting everything afterwards, your routine came back. Cooking in the kitchens, seeing the orphanages and their occupants during their recess at school, eating with Eomer at dinner always, having him eat you out afterwards…

The first months of this pregnancy felt normal and safe. Your belly was growing more and more, your skin stretching, soft scars littering your otherwise unmarred skin. Eomer loved those scars. He said that they were proof of the proper growth inside of you and could not be more proud you wore them. You liked to think of them as traces of your upcoming motherhood and it made you so emotional, you cried a few times at unfortunate moments. Eomer had also learned that your appetite had multiplied as well as your tastes. Spicy food was all you wanted to eat and he had to find a way to get those for you, even in the middle of the night. Poor husband of yours did not know what to do with himself when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes.

A few days into your sixth month, while partaking in a new card game with your friends, you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. You had felt movement before but never like this. Somewhat akin to a cramp but not quite like it either. Worry started to grow, but your mother reassured you quickly.

“The baby is kicking my dear.”

The women around the table cooed, trying to get a feel of your stomach. Gera thwarted them all away, in her understanding that it had made her want to kick people when she was pregnant herself. Your mother wholeheartedly agreed.

When you told Eomer that very same day, he paled in an instant.

“May I?”

You nodded, smiling until it hurt. You could not be happier. He kneeled in front of your seat, before pressing his right hand against your swollen stomach. Nothing happened until they kicked again, where his hand was resting. He looked up, bewildered and amazed by the small action, left without words. He had the habit of talking to them before, but now, his instincts were completely going awry, scared to death for both your safeties.

“In the beginning, I felt as if it could still be ripped away from us so easily… But, when she started kicking I knew it was there. Happening. I knew I had to meet her and let her know that I would always be there for her… -How do you know it’s a girl?”

He had kissed your brow, eyes shining with something you did not know. “A hunch. She reaches for me as you do.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze on you softened, a hand coming to rest on your ever-growing stomach.

“In your sleep, you reach out to me. She does the same thing.”

He kissed the palm of your hand, resting against his cheek, watching as you found yourself crying again, an occurrence he had come to know was harmless even if frequent during this pregnancy. Things were finally looking up. His eyes trailed down to your stomach again, placing a kiss there as a blessing. She was going to be just fine. He was sure of it.

*

Giving birth, as all the women around you had told you, was the worst part.

Specifically the part when you were begging for relief, Eomer holding one of your hands while your mother held the other the midwife telling you to push and push again as if you had not done it all already. And the worst part was that when your son was born, with light hair and soft eyes, perfect as he was, the pain was not over.

That moment led you to know that you had been pregnant with not one child but with two.

Eomer had been right. Your daughter reached for him the moment she laid eyes on him, and almost instantly stopped crying when carried into his arms.

Such a daddy’s girl, she was.

They would be growing up so fast. So soon.

You could not wait.

*

“Idis, Alaric, come back here!”

Eomer’s words were lost in the wind as his children ran down the hill, laughing at your slower pace.

“Let them. You know they always come back.

-I know.”

He kissed your brow gently, before changing his mind and whisking you up in his arms claiming your lips in a fiery embrace.

“Yet, they know how to get themselves into trouble quicker than even Eowyn’s son and that is saying something.

-I believe they inherited that from you.”

You smirked as he let you down. His eyes were still focused on the two silhouettes running in the grass, tackling on another to the ground.

“Idis, aim for the legs!”

You smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t encourage them. Besides, I thought women had no place on the battlefield.”

Eowyn had told you about his words for her, years before. Neither of you, ever since he had a daughter, had let him live it down.

“Am I not allowed to change my mind?

-Or, Idis asked, and you yielded.”

He did not say anything, smiling against himself, but you could see the faint embarrassment in his eyes before he hid his face in the crook of your neck, quickly distracting you with feverish kisses.

“Eomer!”

The fact that the children were not far was a problem he did not seem very concerned with. Nor that you were already 5 months pregnant with the third one.

“It is entirely your fault I cannot keep up with the children we already have. Do you really want to aggravate your case?

-How is it my fault?”

In a gentle gesture, you put your hands around your belly. You came closer to him, whispering only for his ears to hear.

“I am pretty sure that you were the one who insisted on having another go with this. If I remember properly, you did everything you could to keep me in bed.

-As if you were resisting it in the first place.”

Faking exasperation, you shook your head at him. Before you could add to your aggravation with the man, your father appeared on the horizon, trotting to him on his horse. Once he reached you, he kissed your cheek tenderly and saluted his king.

“I am sorry to interrupt the family time but the emissaries have arrived.

-Eowyn and Faramir have arrived? I thought they were not due before tomorrow.

-Well yes and no. They arrived with company, and I am afraid that we’ll need more rooms.”

You exchanged a look with Eomer before you called back the children once more, this time bribing them with horses time. And grandpa. They adored their grandpa and it was adorable to see them run circles around the man.

“Well, I assume two Hobbits are in the midst?

-Yes, my lord.

-As well as a family of Gondor’s royalty?

-Yes, indeed my lord.” Eomer met your eyes, as you tried to keep the children from climbing the horse all on their own. You laughed at his bewildered face.

“That is all?

-Well, not exactly. You see, the Hobbits seem to have brought with them their families and Hobbits have very extended families. As well as numerous friends, such as a famous fellowship, they organized to reunite here.”

Before he could implode under the implications it would have, you stopped your husband’s train of thoughts.

“Eomer, I have organized for this. We were warned by your sister so I prepared the castle accordingly. She mentioned not telling you about it, but I fear you might faint if the surprise lasts any longer.

-You knew?”

His eyes grew serious. The children knew it all too well. It was these eyes they saw when they misbehaved.

“Ohoh, Mum’s in trouble.” Idis laughed behind her grandpa’s legs. He picked her up with some difficulty, holding her on his side. Elfhelm smirked at her reaction. “Yes, Mum is indeed in trouble. Come on little beasts, let’s get on grandpa’s horse and go back to the castle alright?”

Cries of glee erupted from the twins as he settled Idis in front and Alaric behind her. The three of them seemed rather amused by the situation, laughing as they trotted back towards the castle’s entrance.

You were now face to face with Eomer’s stern looks.

“You are in so much trouble.”

Your King was a lot of things but a skilled liar was not one of them. Soon, his face broke out in a mischievous smile, and you bolted knowing all too well what it meant.

He caught up with incredibly fast, tumbling you both down in the wild flowers, although he made sure he would be taking the most of the fall. Your wrists ended up loosely pinned to the ground, your husband looking down at you, an arched brow and that air about him that made you doubt you’d ever fall out of love with him. Pure adoration was not too much of a word to use when it came down to that face. It looked like your own, of that you were sure.

“What can I do to get out of this trouble, my lord.

-You know I hate it when you call me that and for that you shall pay.”

He smothered you kisses, tickling your sides until you were both breathless besides one another. Eomer’s fingertips traced down the shape of your face softly, before you cupped his hand with your own.

“We should be going.

-No.

-Eomer…

-No, I want to keep looking at you like this for as long as I can.”

He shushed you with a kiss you would not forget soon, cradling your face and neck with his hands, warm and flush against your skin.

This was a moment you would never forget, for all the moments with him were memorable. Everything you had lived through, the heartbreak and the harshness of parenthood sometimes, the loss of your mother a year after giving birth. Now you knew. Of all the marriages you could have had, only wishing for contentment for this one was a mistake, for you were happy and no one could take it away from your family. Not now, not ever.

For as long as you had each other, the story would continue and you would be alright.

Always.

[moodymisty]

In the Perturabo book it’s mentioned how both him and Calliphone really wanted to act like a normal brother and sister and not have to deal with the expectations of olympia’s upper class, where betraying your family and stabbing them in the back was normalised (and even expected!). So I think that scenario has some really good potential for a tragic-siblings (platonic)x reader story.

Imagine you’ve been promoted to being Perturabo’s serf, people are worried for you because this is famously the guy who likes to destroy stuff when he’s mad. But you don’t care, it’s one of the highest ranking jobs on the ship that a mortal like you can have and you’re pretty good at not getting in the way. And for a while that’s what you do, your schedule for cleaning his room doesn’t align with the times he’s in it. You do your job, leave, come back the next day and rinse and repeat for a few weeks.

The first time you see him in person he’s in the process of leaving the room. And when he turned around you expected him to look at you with an expression of irritation or annoyance, but what you got instead was… fear? He looked startled, giving you the impression of a space-deer in the headlights. Despite how weird the situation was, the only thing you said to him was your name and how you were his serf, to which he simply nodded and left the room in a hurry.

You met him again the very next day, he orders you to pause your duties and talk with him for a bit. strange, but alright. You sit down and he starts asking you questions about who you are, where you came from, what your other duties are on the ship. The entire time it felt like he was interrogating you about something (though you weren’t sure what it was). The next day he does the same thing, and then the day after that, just talking to you about who you were or things you liked. At which point you decided that this was probably him trying to form a friendship with you in his own (very obvious to you by now) socially awkward fashion, which was further confirmed when you asked him about some invention of his and his eyes practically lit up with excitement (and the way he sat there happily infodumping about it for an hour)

Now for most people being friends with Perturabo sounded like a bad idea. But being someone’s serf meant that it was kind of part of the job description, and not to mention that he was genuinely fun to be around. You liked hearing him talk about the things he made, not to mention that he’d given you some new interests in the process. Your room was swapped from the small servants quarters to a larger room near where he was, and then summarily filled with items that he got/made for you. He let you give him a nickname (you thought calling him “Bo” was pretty funny). He’d even jokingly call you his “sister” sometimes, not that you payed much mind to it. You were a person he could trust and confide in, and you took pride in that.

But as the heresy progressed things started to get… weird. You once asked him, based on some rumours you’ve heard, if he had any media from before the age of strife. To which he said yes, and that he was sorry he didn’t show you them when you first asked (but this was the first time you asked him about it?). He refers you as his sister more and more often, and while at this point you could see that your friendship had some familial qualities to it, you didn’t think that it straight up bordered on it. It felt especially forced when he called his legion your “nephews” (much to the surprise of a nearby space marine). And there of course was that one time when he invited Magnus aboard the ship, who you were very excited to meet. Until he looked at you with the same shock-confusion as Bo did the first time, and then afterwards you heard him and Bo have an argument. The details of which he refused to tell you, saying that you shouldn’t worry about your brothers were mad about, since they were always mad about something.

At the end of the heresy it got worse. Or more accurately: Bo got worse. With the responsibility of the attack on terra placed on him he was more irritable than ever. And also paranoid about your safety more than ever before, which lead to him practically barring you from leaving the ship (and only being allowed to go outside of it with the supervision of his astartes). He even started calling you Calliphone.

… Calliphone? Who the fuck was Calliphone?? Look, you were happy to be his friend, and you were fine with him calling you a sister. But who the hell was this Calliphone?! It certainly wasn’t you, that’s not your name. That was never your name, why did he feel the need to give you a whole new identity? Not to mention that Bo refused to elaborate on it, no matter how hard you pried him for information about it. You knew the name was olympian, but nothing else. And it frustrated you to no end how he was not only keeping you trapped here, but talking to you as if you were a completely different person.

You started researching the name while Bo was off fighting on terra. Turns out that giving you interests in technology would make looking through noosphere articles way more easy, and you found information soon enough. She was listed in many places as the daughter of tyrant Dammekos and… adoptive sister of Perturabo.

… okay. You then scrolled to more later articles about Perturabo’s attack on olympia, where it said that Calliphone died from a neck injury, possibly caused by P-

What?! No that couldn’t… no, there’s no way he could have done that to his sister… right?? Cause he calls you his sister and he would never dream of hurting you, let alone murdering you in cold blood..

You stared away from the screen for a few minutes, giving yourself time to take some slow deep breaths and calm down. Once you felt ready enough you looked further through the news articles, most of which were either broken/nonfunctioning, mentioning her in a sentence or two, or talking about her death. After an hour of searching you finally found a site with a working link to a photo of her around your age. Filled with curiosity, you clicked it to finally look at the person you’ve been compared to over and over again.

And you saw yourself.

BRO-

This is awesome. Like serious I love the progression Pert makes and how reader doesn't see it at first because hey! nicknames are totally normal. calling someone a sibling isn't odd especially if you're friendly, but it getting weird when he starts relating you to other people like his legion. or the primarchs. and how they all see it for how odd it is and how Bo is acting, but you're partly blinded by your friendship with him until the end when you start digging deeper.

the decent into madness as he tries to right his mistake and basically remake Calliphone, awesome.

[writernopal]

Some Lines

Combining a few tag games here to share a few lines of some stuff I've written lately because, as always, I am perpetually behind on tags T_T

Thanks to @teamdilf (here), @tabswrites (here), @noblebs (here), @mysticstarlightduck (here), @mister-writes (here), and

@cosmiccoincidence (here)!

Tagging (gently): @acertainmoshke @sarahlizziewrites @crowandmoonwriting and @sugar-phoenix !

cw: none, just under a cut bc its long-ish

It was strange to imagine. How could a vessel, this mighty invention of man crafted for the sole purpose of travel not move? Indeed it seemed impossible. But what good were wide sails and tall masts without that most crucial agent of change? None at all. And so the proud construction became at once butchery and butcher, each part of her now being keenly inspected by shifty eyes, wondering what portion of her would be theirs. What of that body might sustain them while she, the craft, honed her knife eagerly eyeing the men in much the same way. Ship and crew were not symbiotic then, but parasitic, each anticipating the elixir of life from the other. Could doldrums be a landed affair too? I found myself scratching at the thought incessantly, no matter how occupied I kept my hands. Even now, with the most treasured needles Axtapor had sculpted for me, yes, even with these in my grasp, I could not will my fingers to be busy knots and loops. All they wanted was to break that question open and search for the truth within its bowels. Which of us was the vessel and which the crew? When would we find wind again? When would the food run out?  When would we have to make a choice that there was no coming back from? I trembled. That choice had a name, a face, a voice. I heard it day and night even when the choice was not before me asking if I wanted to make it. Asking if I wanted to know. To face it felt akin to lettering my name in the ship’s deck log, on the page no captain ever wished to use. Like every entry, it would be made in ink, but beside it would be a brief eulogy for why my name had been signed there. Heartbreak, it might say. Any who might read it later, with the benefit of hindsight and free of choice’s allure, would surely wonder if I couldn’t hang on just a little longer. Go just that much farther. Push it down as I always had. But deck logs were facts, not accounts of witness or studies of life, and so the question would remain unanswered long after the wind came back and decisions were easy.

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