#* but i am grateful to my ride or dies who understand <3

[phantasmaw]

I super-mega-ultra promise I am not ignoring dms or the rest of my drafts or inbox or anything! I'm on so little these days I frankly don't really know where to start. I've updated my pinned to reflect this, but I'm essentially on a permanent semi-hiatus from anything tumblr related these days, as sad as it does make me. I still have a deep love for all my connections here and everything that I have written and will write with all of you; it's just that my ambitions for life have led me into endeavors that take up a lot of time outside the 8-5 I'm currently working. RP, as much as it's done and is still doing for me, is on a permanent backburner. That won't mean I'm not lurking and cooking things up slowly, though!

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Ashes Burn (Chapter 3) Dark!Aemond x AFAB Reader

🔷Summary: Aemond takes your town and you become his.

🔷Author's note: I don't mess around with the dark aemond tag. Watch your step please.

🔷Wordcount: 6052

Warnings below the cut but mind your step!

RATING: EXPLICIT, 18+ MDNI!!!!!

Warnings: Death, gore, got sexism, got violence, dubcon, thigh riding, slight smut, degrading, blood. violence and trauma. Read at your own risk, dead dove do not eat or something among those lines.

STORY BEGINS HERE

That very same evening, your father is to yield the castle to Aemond. You are present and dressed properly for the occasion, happy to see your father out of his chains. At least, the chains are not present, but that does not mean he’s a free man. No one in your family is free anymore.

The dress your servants have selected is an emerald green one with black details of roses and thorns. It is quite the revealing gown, and you know that is why Aemond approved of it. He can't take his good eye off you, as it constantly wanders to you, one way or another, as a moth drawn to the flame.

The ceremony occurs on a big square in the village. There are flower decorations that have quickly been gathered by your servants to make some effort. Perhaps for the fallen, perhaps to show Aemond they can be loyal, and they do not need to be killed yet. Maybe both.

It is sickening in a way, seeing so many flowers rooted safely from their grounds to honor such a horrible man. The faces of those who he fed to his dragon are still on your mind. They haunt you, in a way.

Blood still can be seen between the tiles on the ground. It would be a while to clean it, if it ever would be clean again.

The food is good and delicious but you as a Prince's pet are allowed only to eat what Aemond has approved of. You wistfully look at the delicious cake that his commanders and generals eat.

You can't help but stare and wonder, your tummy rambling. You would love a piece of cake too. It looks delicious even from a distance. The prince catches your glance and follows it, scowling more and more every single moment. ‘’What is it, my pet?’’

There is plenty of cake for everyone. You know so. And you are starving. So, you force yourself to become a little braver and a little bolder. A little more vocal too. ‘’I would like a piece too.’’ You declare.

His lips slowly press together in a disapproving way. It tells you all you need to know. Your shoulders hang, the sting of rejection cuts deep. ‘’That cake is for my men.’’ Aemond says and his voice tells you enough.

You notice there is some disgust and perhaps even jealousy there. Quickly you turn your eyes away from other men as Aemond's brows become threatened, worried, jealous.

You don't know why he thinks you'd be even interested in anyone at this moment. Your heart is being tested. Because it bleeds in ways you never imagined.

Not for yourself.

Not even for your own family and friends.

Just for the innocent people that died at his hands. 

But you are a coward.

You are worried he might kill even more if you won't comply. So you do. Even if it hurts you and goes against your nature.

The cake looks tastier every passing moment. ‘’I am aware. I just thought...perhaps you can make them share?’’ You suggest your voice soft, trying to play him. ‘’I liked the cupcakes you arranged-’’

Despite his laugh and despite the chuckle, you see a dark dangerous glimmer in his good eye. He is warning you. ‘’Let them have their cake, little lamb. Be glad it's not you on that table that's being shared.’’ You understand what Aemond means.

You should be glad and grateful for his protection and his claim. This does not erase the pain of being his trophy but his claim makes sure that none of those so called ‘heroes’ bother you. 

His slender hands grab your hips before firmly sitting you down on his lap, his arms strangling your stomach, pushing you almost inside him. He brings his lips to your ear when his hands feel up your dress. You feel ashamed he does this in front of your friends and servants and try to stop him. He only grabs you tighter at that, enjoying this game. ‘’A lamb fights the dragon.’’ He murmurs, grinning madly. ‘’You can resist and fight all you like. Just don't cry when I put you in your place for your treason.’’ You recall his punishment. How you were whipped before after he stripped and bended you on the table.

How you almost came when he fucked you with his fingers. 

You must avoid that at all costs.

‘’My Prince. I meant no offense. It was a silly question.’’ You stutter, a little foolish, staring at your hands. Aemond sinks back in the chair that serves as his throne.

He stares a little too long at your nippels watching them harden under his icy touch. You hear his lips smack. ‘’It was. You'll learn soon to stop asking silly questions. I have little patience for stupid girls.’’ You are worried.

You are known to ask silly questions a lot. And worse, if you can't ask him things how will you know what to do? It is risking punishment by asking or by doing the wrong thing by accident.

To one of your servants he nods. You know her by the name of Darla. She is from the Crown lands and has been with your family for some time. She makes a small curtsy for the prince before bowing her head and addressing him. ‘’Your highness. Is there something I can do for you?’’ She asks terrified. You can tell by her trembling hands.

You bet she is worried Aemond might touch and claim her too.

Aemond grabs the goblet he drinks from and dryly turns it upside down, watching as a single drop of red wine splashes on the tiles below.

You watch, as it spreads in a familiar bloody color. However hard you try, your eyes are as clued to the spot. ‘’Get me more wine. And fetch me a piece of a cake. I am hungry.’’ You hear Aemond's voice far away and your breathing increases.

Moments pass yet it feels like years. Aemond is handed a piece of cake on a silver plate and his goblet is hastily filled with wine. He puts you back on his lap and your trance is broken as you once again find yourself on his lap.

Aemond cuts the cake in small pieces and you watch as he brings the pieces to his mouth, taking proper gentle bites. He is a prince after all. He can be so charming...

When he wants to be. And that is exactly what makes him so dangerous.

The prince eats the cake while your stomach rumbles.

‘’It's good.’’ He grins. You notice his eye shimmers with pure sadism at your hunger. Perhaps it's your pain that turns him on. Perhaps it's the power he has over you. One of the two, makes the prince lusty.

Aemond takes another bite and while you don't doubt it's delicious you doubt it's so good that he can moan. ‘’Mhm…’’ there it is again, that foreign strange sound. 

You stare at your hands, at a loss for words and actions. You doubt there is much you can do.

‘’Look at me when I eat.’’ The prince barks suddenly at you. You nod hastily and look at the prince while he eats the cake.

Your stomach roars a little louder causing him to chuckle. When he has finished the cake, you are hungry. Aemond holds the plate in front of you, careful to avoid losing crumbs. ‘’You may have the crumbs.’’ The way he speaks remembers you of your losses. You have lost your title and are nothing more than his pet now. 

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks again as you stare at the plate. Ashamed. You reach out to a big crumb of cake on the plate. You need to convince yourself to allow this. You are hungry. Who cares about you eating a crumb?

That is until Aemond grins and smacks your fingers the moment they touch the crumbs. You cry out, quickly removing your fingers hurt written in your eyes. He chuckles. ‘’I didn't say you could use your fingers. There is another body part of yours that I want you to become agile and mobile with.’’ You tilt your head in confusion. 

He stares at your lips. ‘’Your tongue. You will lick up all the crumbs. After that, you can clean my plate for me. And after that, we'll see.’’ You would have preferred silverware.

Aemond takes big gulps of his cup quickly emptying it for a second or a tirth time that night.

There is one reason why he wants you to become more agile. He wants you to use your tongue to pleasure him. You have no experience doing such a thing but take his advice. Any practice that might save you discomfort and pain is welcome.

And you know better than to keep him waiting. You lower your head and as a pig, you start to collect and lick his crumbs off the plate. Aemond groans in pleasure when you softly gasp as he touches your back.

He grabs hold of your hair, dragging you closer. And then, he tilts it slightly so he may reach your lips. And before you can push him away he softly kisses your neck, sucking deeply, harshly marking you by biting down the sensitive skin as you whimper at his mercy.

Aemonds breath quickens alone at that sound and your eyes search for help among the crowd of drinking spectators and soldiers. Not one soul comes to your aid.

No servant or soldier.

No enemy or friend.

The worst part is, you see people judge you for his actions. Your stepmother is disgusted judging by the look in her eyes.  Her daughters look on as well yet you aren't sure if they would hate or pity you for what happens.

You are too afraid to look at Diandra. You know she'd be furious, letting yourself be touched by the animal that is Aemond Targaryen.

And your father?

You can't look at him either.

You lower your eyes. He leans in closer before wiping your lips clean and the corners of your mouth. ‘’Good little pet. I hope you enjoyed your cake.’’

A response is wise, you know that.

‘’It was delicious, my prince. Although I would have preferred a bigger portion.’’ It does not matter what you intended to say, he takes it as an insult.

The prince glares at you, forcing his nails into your skin to punish you so no one can see. ‘’Do not make me punish you, little ungrateful thing. Not the way I had you punished this very afternoon. You finally stopped bleeding. Do not make me rip open your pretty skin again.’’ He laughs at the end of his sentence, and you close your eyes, reliving his punishment.

You don't want that. You scold yourself and tell yourself to be quiet unless spoken to for now on.

A familiar face walks up to you and Aemond. It's the Dornish commander Diandra tried to kill. ‘’Prince Aemond. A word?’’ His voice is gentle and kind yet strict. 

You know Aemond does not want you around for this conversation.  ‘’You can speak freely within her presence. I will break her will fully tonight.’’ There is only so much you can bear.

New tears fall as you take a shaky breath. ‘’I shall wait for you, my prince.’’ You announce when freeing yourself from his grip and his lap.

A rough smack on your behind causes you to yelp out loud and for the prince to iron his grip. He whispers in your ear. ‘’You don't decide when you leave, little pet. Not anymore. I want you here. I want you to warm my lap. I want to count your tears and hear you whimper.’’

You try to find comfort. He relaxes, letting you be more free on his lap. ‘’That's better. Apologize to the commander for wasting his time and my own.’’ He tells you with a tug at a fistful of your hair.

You cry out, quickly blurting an apology. ‘’I am so sorry.’’ You say.

Aemond and the Dornish commander ignore you both, making you feel even more worthless. ‘’What did you want?’’ Aemond asks. He does not sound annoyed. Just curious.

The Dornish commander folds his hands in front of him, barely glancing at you when you softly sniffle at Aemond's lap.

The hands of the prince run down your knees, touching you when listening patiently to the words of the commander. ‘’We found an orphanage. We found traitors and rebels among the children, hiding behind a wardrobe.’’

Despite it being his duty you can tell he does not want to tell Aemond this. The prince's head goes up and down in understanding as he becomes very quiet.

‘’How many traitors and how many orphans are we speaking of?’’ Your blood becomes cold as you recall the faces of many innocent children who already endured the seven hells themselves. You know the orphanage. Your father was the patron.

You don't know how many traitors there are. Or how many children call it their home. But you know that every child that dies is one too many. ‘’Around 50 traitors and twice as many orphans. Children from all ages.’’

You need to help them. And you know how. Aemond is not a stupid man. His worst fear is likely running out of supplies. So if you offer to handle that, the reason to spare the children grows. ‘’Perhaps we can do something for them? We can invite the children inside the castle. We will use the supplies of my house, my prince. You should not let this bother you.’’ You tell him.

Aemond only cocks his head at you. He leans back his fingers dancing on the armrests of the chair. ‘’You speak out of turn, little pet. Stand up.’’ You gulp.

Your own father watches as you stand up, together with his men and other people you have known all your life. They all watch as you tremble and cry, whimper and beg. Your begs go unanswered.

You feel the smack a few moments later, on your behind. And the hiss of his voice. ‘’Sit back down.’’ That is enough to make you obey.

The commander leaves at the point of disgust. You don't know what will happen to the children now and are worried for the smirk that grows on Aemond’s lips, becoming bigger every moment that passes by.

Aemond lifts your chin. ‘’I will deal with them accordingly. You don't decide a thing anymore. From the way you dress, to the way you will fall asleep.’’ He tells you coldly. ‘’And no one will care. You are a bastard. A dirty bastard. You have nothing. Why shouldn't I take you? Hm? Who possibly could defend you? No one. You're all mine.’’ He growls.  ‘’I killed your brother, your father is in chains and no one,’’ Your gaze drops for a mere moment, intimidated and hurt by his words. So he punishes you by pinching your skin until you gasp.  ‘’No one will save you from me.’’ To prove his point, he leans in a little closer before locking eyes with you and licking your cheek.

You whimper.

You notice a familiar face in the crowd subtly approaching. He pretends to fill cups and to collect plates of drinking officers and soldiers alike. But you see the hatred in his eyes burning like a wildfire.

He is a soldier, a guard your father trusted. You know him by the name of Daros. He has always been very protective of your family and you can imagine he is up to no good.

It would be satisfying watching Daros kill Aemond. Until his soldiers kill Daros in return. You can count. You have done the math. Daros can not outwit and outrun the soldiers that Aemond has.

You worry your face might betray what you know about Daros and quickly stare at your hands as Aemond puts you a little firmer on his lap, rubbing your naked arms and wiping away some remaining salvia on your cheeks. 

Aemond stares you down and nods to his cup that is standing close by on a table. You stand up for him and reach for the cup, handing it faithfully to him with your head lowered. He chuckles at your display of submission and fear, enjoying every little moment of it. ‘’Pet, you should be careful with your body. It is a weapon you don't know how to wield yet.’’  You don't know what he means yet you nod.

He inspects the cup, holding it upside down. ‘’Pet, the cup is empty.’’ He tells you. Panicked, you glance around for a pitcher or a servant. And your eyes light up when you look at your home. Perhaps, perhaps he lets you go and you can fill a pitcher inside and run far far away.

The servant girl that helped earlier has wisely fled and you doubt she's coming back. You hope she escaped.

‘’I shall fetch a pitcher-’’ Before you set a foot his guards are alarmed and he has grabbed you by your hair, painfully dragging you back to him, forcing you on your knees like a disobedient dog.

You stare at his boots, the same boots you were forced to kiss earlier and can't help but tear up, gulping. Aemond still holds your hair as a leash. You hear him chuckle as he tugs, wrapping your hair around his hand, causing it to tangle painfully.

He makes a disapproving little sound. ‘’No, little pet. No breaks for you. You'll stay. You'll stay right here and warm my lap for me. You have plenty of pretty useless kitchen sluts who can fetch me wine.’’ They are no sluts. They are women. You doubt he knows the difference. 

Dramatically, Aemond sits down and forces you back on his lap. Daros has approached silently and is busy with attending the soldiers closest to Aemond now. His own personal guard.

Your breath quickens and you pray to the gods that Aemond does not notice. That he can't read you that well. Because if he does it might fail. And Daros could die.

You must avoid looking at both at all costs. Aemond is luckily used to that so you avoid looking at him. But he is no idiot. ‘’So tense, my little pet. Are you worried about tonight?’’ He whispers, kissing your earshell as you shudder on his knee. ‘’I have been picturing you on your back since I met you. You, the sheep being conquered by the dragon.’’

Images are formed in your head as Aemond keeps kissing you, images of you wearing nothing with him atop of you.

You squirm until you feel something move over your wet sex. The prince moves his leg, stimulating you with a sly grin on his lips. You endure it, shocked at the nerve of him to do this in front of everyone...

And shocked that you like it.

You don't want to like it however. You should hate everything this man does with you. Aemond grins as he repeats the process, lazily fucking you on his thigh. ‘’If you do your best, I might keep you alive.’’ He murmurs, as your pleasure is building.

You are speechless and light in your head, overwhelmed by many emotions. ‘’I will do my best.’’ And that's all you can do. That is the worst part of it all. You can do your best and be the best pet there is, and he'd still kill you. Part of you knows it. Part of you has always known it.

The prince seems pleased as you softly press your lips together to avoid a whimper as he fucks a little rougher. ‘’I hope your best is good enough, then.’’ You hesitantly touch his leg, feeling the warmth of his body.

You want to ride him back.

You want to touch him back.

Not to reward him. But to dull your own pain with pleasure.

You have experience with touching yourself but that does not even come close to the hype and excitement it gives your body when someone else touches you.

You roll your hips to his leg, lost in the moment...Until he sharply stops you and you are left with nothing. ‘’No. You had enough.’’ He decides, suddenly with a twisted grin on his lips. You can't help but glare at him. He chuckles amused. ‘’Pleasure is something you have to earn, little pet. I won't make you come out of the goodness of my heart. If you want to come and be a good girl and soak my cock, fingers or whatever else I may fuck you with, you best behave.’’

At that point, Daros comes over and fakes a subtle bow. ‘’My prince.’’ He begins. ‘’I have orders from Ser Criston Cole to escort you to the traitors.’’ He says. One look into his eyes and you can tell he is lying.

Aemond simply leans back in the chair, rubbing your wet needy sex lazily. ‘’Can't you see I'm busy, you-’’ His eye widens as he realizes something. ‘’Didn't I see you on the battlefield?’’

You freeze unintended. The rubbing stops. You wish him to continue it. You subtly try to grab his fingers but he only needs to glare at you to make you behave.

Daros first reaction is stupid as well. It's the worst thing he could have said. ‘’I- You're mistaken.’’ A clear lie.

Aemond huffs at that stupid little lie and you worry for Daros’s life. ‘’Am I? I do miss one eye, that is true. Perhaps that is why my other eye tries very hard to capture as many details as possible. Like you, standing on the tower of the wall as a coward when I sliced her brother up.’’ You recall that moment all too well.

The shameful color that spreads on Daros cheeks proves that Aemond is right. ‘’Let her go. She is innocent.’’ He protests softly. 

You aren’t sure why he cares about you in general.

Aemond laughs, a haunting hollow sound. ‘’Not for long, I promise you.’’ You know what he means. He means to take away your innocence.

That is taking it too far by Daros standards. He has never been one to deal with injustice in the right healthy way. Anger gets the better of him, risking both of your lives.  ‘’You fucking bastard! You think you're entitled to everything. Our people, our food, our lady. What did she do to you? What did she do?’’ He demands an answer.

Instead of giving one, Aemond pushes you on the ground by his feet.  ‘’Kneel.’’ He barks at you as his guards restrain Daros. You obey.

‘’Deeper.’’.

You go deeper; hurting your kneecaps on the cold stone tiles.

‘’Kiss my boots.’’ You nod, a single tear rolls down your cheeks as you obey his command leaving two kisses on his boots. He grins. 

‘’Please spare him.’’ You beg. ‘’He's part of the household, he can't die.’’ You hope he will have mercy.

Until you see that Aemond has stopped smirking and glares at Daros jealousy clearly written across his face. ‘’Do you love him pet?’’ He spits out. 

You gawk, unsure where this is coming from. You don’t understand why Aemond would care, nor why it is brought up. You look at Daros and see something unfamiliar in his eyes. A gentle spark of hope that can enlight in a fire of bravery any moment with the right words. A fire that will kill you both.

He is in love with you.

But you are not in love with him.

You are worried Aemond would kill him.

So you admit to the truth, no matter how heartless it makes you seem. ‘’No, my Prince. I desire no man but you.’’

He is relieved at that although he won't admit it ever. ‘’But you do love her, hm? That is why you really interfered. You wish her ass was on your lap, hm?’’ He grins at Davos. ‘’I can have her do the most delicious things to herself and me. Things you likely dreamt of for years.’’ 

‘’So what if I do? It won't change things.’’ ‘’I knew she was forbidden fruit. She should not be punished for my crimes. I am the one who tried to lure you-’’

Aemond interrupts him by punching him in the gut, burying his fist deeply, so deeply you worry for Daros spitting out the lunch he had. You gasp shocked at this brutal display. Daros is thrown on his knee and Aemond changes the assault to kicking his face, stomach and other parts of his body. Daros only response is a sickening little whimper and a heartbreaking grunt.

You are grabbed too by another guard, held when Aemond makes his way to the masses of people that have gathered here today. You hope it will be peaceful. He has what he wants. He should show mercy.

But you know this man too well by now.

Your father is brought forward in chains. Your stepmother is treated respectfully as are her daughters. They remain dressed and well. Unlike you who is touched by prince Aemond a lot. But he too has not yet removed your gown.

Your father barely looks at you when he is marched forward by Aemonds guards. You feel horrible as Aemond grabs you as his prized trophy and puts you by his side presenting you smirking to your father. ‘’You made a lovely girl. I will make good use of her when we warm your bed.’’ Your stomach turns at the little possessive squeeze he gives your behind.

His men laugh, you don't know why. It is not funny. ‘’You are a despicable disgusting man, Aemond of house Targaryen.’’ Your father answers, his eyes never leaving Aemond’s. ‘’Killing a man by stabbing him in the back, and taking a woman as your spoils of war. You have no shame nor honor in that body of yours.’’

Aemond is insulted. ‘’This is war in case you failed to notice. You choose the wrong side.’’ It can't be that simple. It never is that simple. War is like a coin. It has multiple sides.

Your father spits at his feet and Aemond barely avoids it. ‘’So behead me for it and be done with it.’’ He growls out, done with playing Aemonds games.

Aemond is shocked.

He seems taken back, and embarrassed. But that changes quickly into anger and fury. Instead of hitting your father, he grabs you. You already wail before he has laid a finger on you. ‘’Pet. I have a fun little task for you.’’ He mutters in your ear as you shake.

You know what he wants.

‘’Please grant me the privilege of a bedroom if you must-’’ your stutters are interrupted.

He chuckles amused that your mind went there. ‘’Sh, filthy minded pet. We shall do nothing of the sort here. I have something else in mind than fucking that little warm wet cunny of yours.’’

Your father is forced to kneel. He is to be executed. ‘’Please, good people. Consider bending the knee to this tyrant. If you don't, He will likely kill you all. We must pray to the gods that justice can be found one day. And to the women in this town, I regret that I failed you.’’ 

Aemond waits for more words but none come. So he folds his hands on his back and gives his men the order. ‘’Surround her well.’’

You understand that's you. You turn and watch as the guards form a circle around Aemond and your father and you. You hear the sound of steel being pulled and Aemond presents you with the same sword you were forced to lick. The sword that killed your brother. 

And…

He hands it to you.

Your first impulse is to run him through. But he wears armor. He has guards around him and it would accomplish nothing. Vhagar looms from the opposite side of the square, and you know if she were to see Aemond die, she would roast everyone in this town alive.

So what does he want you to do? Is this meant as a cruel test?

Another thought makes itself into your head. A thought so dark and cruel that you gasp audibly. ‘’What am I to do with this?’’ You ask your voice soft.

He only smirks, confirming your worst fears.

You stare at your father, still on his knees. You hear the sound of something clattering against the floor and understand you must have dropped the sword by accident. He can't mean that.

To kill your own father...

He can't be that cruel....

Can he?

Your hand is forced open and a sword is pushed back in. Aemond's sword. ‘’I want you to make  that little disgusting piggy that sits at our feed scream.’’ He whispers. ‘’I want your hands and gown bloodied.’’ He adds rasping with clear arousal.

‘’I-I can't.’’ You protest straight away. ‘’I'd be a Kinslayer. I'd be cursed! And furthermore...I am a lady. And do you want your enemies to hear that you had me execute him rather than yourself?’’ All lies you don't care for. All lies to hopefully distract him. You don’t want your father to die. You already lost so much today.

Aemond sighs, disappointed you don’t like his idea.

‘’You have the choice. You can kill him, or I will kill all of these people gathered here.’’ He can't mean that. You have to hope for your faith in humankind that he can't be that cruel. 

But you saw it before at the gates.

He is truly that cruel. He didn't stop the battle when he could. He didn't play fair when he could. He did not show mercy. He showed fire. And he showed blood.

You understand you have a choice. Save your father, or save the town. Your father speaks up, his voice touched by emotions. He knows what you will pick. And funny, so did you. You knew the moment you were presented the choice, there was no real choice. Not really. Not when your father has spent his life protecting Dolkburg.  ‘’Y/N.’’ Your father mutters.

So you must kill him. No matter how much it will hurt your soul. No matter that you become a orphan. ‘’Daddy I am so sorry.’’ New tears roll down your cheeks. 

He shakes his head firmly, but yet he cries nonetheless. Every tear is a blow to your heart. ‘’Don't be. Do what you must child. No one will blame you for this. Do what you must to survive. To make the people of Dolkburg survive.’’

You can only nod. Speaking hurts. Thinking hurts. Living hurts.

‘’I think we will meet again soon, child.’’ When Aemond tires of you. Or when you maybe get pregnant. That is when he will get rid of you.

You turn to face Aemond, sobbing. He gleefully grins, looking back and forth between your father and you. ‘’Well, pet? Have you made your choice?’’ Where is the fair choice? Where is the good choice?

‘’Yes.’’ You nod but you can't stop your hands from shaking. You place the blade on your father’s neck, the way you saw him do with many criminals that dared to oppose him. And now he is executed on the orders of the worst criminal of all. A war criminal.

You want to execute him, in a clean manner. But Aemond coughs sharply, startling you. ‘’Ah, no. I don’t want a quick clean execution. You will hit his pressure points and make him bleed out.’’ A horrible slow and torturous death.

You never heard of ‘pressure points’. Aside from feeling grief stricken you also now feel dumb.‘’How shall I kill him?’’ You ask Aemond as you take in your father's closed eyes and his peaceful almost corpse-like appearance.  As if he has already departed this world.

Aemond’s fingers point to the wrists, the neck, the heart, and the gut area. ‘’Just do what feels right, little pet. He is your canvas, the sword is your brush. His blood is your paint. Make me a masterpiece.’’

At his command, you start by the throat and drive the sword all the way in, causing the flesh to part as a whale opening its mouth.Blood streams out of your fathers throat and there is a small comfort that he dies fast.

Your father drowns in his own blood in front of you spitting and swallowing it as you fall to your own knees, your hands covered in blood. Aemond laughs. ‘’You are all dismissed. Have some fun. Get drunk. As long as you are in the right state tomorrow.’’ He tells his guards. They take off running into the village, likely looking for any innocent bystander to grab.

Eventually, you watch as your servant girls are bothered by the soldiers, first gently but when they dont respond they are hit, bruised, and dragged off inside. You quickly turn to Aemond horrified as he ignores what his men do. ‘’No! No! make them stop.’’

He does not move a muscle.

‘’No, I won't. They deserve a nice reward. What's a better reward than a woman?’’ He asks. You are insulted that he thinks they deserve anything and especially a woman. A woman is not a reward.

‘’They are not their rewards. They are  good. Stop this. Please…’’ You see Aemond only turn his head away from the scene, careless.

Finally, he too snaps. ‘’I won't give you what you want. You are my pet, I decide for you. You can whine and beg and cry all you like but in the end I am the prince and you the dirty bastard.’’

‘’Be thankful I will fuck you tonight. If I had not, you'd be just like them. Tell me pet, do you prefer me or them in your innocent little untouched cunny?’’ When you remain silent he squeezes you to make you talk.

You look at his boots.

‘’You.’’ You confess softly in tears. You would prefer one man over six any day. Prince Aemond is cruel but he is a prince. You hope he has some consideration and decorum for your statue as maiden.

He laughs pleased.

‘’Such a good girl when needs be. Yes. You would hm? What scares you most?’’

There is no point in lying about it. ‘’The pain.’’ Yet you do so anyway. 

‘’No. Pain does not scare you. You would not enjoy defying me the way that you do if it did.’’ He is too observant.

You sigh. ‘’That I'll...like it. That I'll enjoy what you'll do to me.’’

‘’Having a woman in my bed is one thing, little pet. But I live to bend and shape her into submission. I want my women deranged and hungry for me. I want them to be mindless little objects for me to fuck my seed out on. Do you understand?’’ Seven gods..

‘’What you describe is so horrible. Don't you want for your women to ..to touch and love you back? Is that not the point of sharing one's bed? To feel loved?’’

‘’Spoken like a true maiden. You'll say different things once you experienced what it is like to have a man inside of you.’’

Aemond’s attention turns to Daros who is still held by one of the guards that Aemond did not dismiss yet. ‘’So. You dreamt of touching what belongs to me, hm? Even tried to kill me too.’’ He says.

Daros spits as a answer. 

Aemond punches him on his nose, likely breaking it by the sound and look of it. Daros hisses in pain. You watch as Aemond turns around to you. ‘’Pet. I think it is time you and me have some fun.’’ You can’t help but be aroused by his words. You hate it.

His glare hardens as he looks back at Davos, grinning when blood drips from his nose. ‘’And this little traitor, this little shit. He will watch me do what he wanted to do to you for years.’’

----

a/n: hes so mean and for what he already won. Oh well.

[causethisismyblog]

Have some of my random thoughts from my 4th/5th rewatch of the second season....

Apparently I have too many thoughts/comments so these are gonna have to be a post per episode. Please feel free to reblog/comment and answer my questions!

When Wille goes to Erik's room and his mom calls out to him. He pauses and waits until she gets there to close the door in her face. Why? If he has been ignoring her and pushing her away. Why not close the door as soon as he entered Erik's room?

Was August back from winter break early or did he spend his whole winter break at hillerska? His friends mention that he missed out on their vacation. Is that something they planned before or something they typically do?

Simon hadn't added Marcus on insta like he had suggested until he had no other option but to ask him for a ride. I think he likely had no intention of doing so had this situation not come about.

Also Simon getting in the back of Marcus' car like its a taxi 😂😂? Is he trying to distance himself from Marcus unintentionally? Or what?

When Nils&Vincent laughs when Wille tells August to only refer to him by his official title of Crowned Prince. Do they think its a joke? Also the panic in August's eyes when he realizes that Wille is going to make him pay for what he did and he cannot say a word.

Are August's friends clueless? How did they not figure out that Wille had something over him? The way Wille talked to him and called him out over and over again. Wille walk all over August right in front of his friends let alone everyone else. Wille's attitude toward August took a complete 180 from season 1.

Wille sitting in the opening assembly looking around for Simon. Like shit this choir is really boring. Where the fuck is my boy? He would make this so much better.

If Simon is late for school that day. Are Rosh and Ayub also late for their school that day? Or does their school start a different time?

The fact that Ayub says Wille is toxic and encourages Simon to go out with Marcus just grates me.

Did the girls really have Sara pay for all their coffee and snacks? They do know she is poor, right?

Sara getting so turned on just talking to August and putting her hand on his stomach. It that realistic? Does this kind of reaction really happen to people? (Forgive me I am asexual and this shit just baffles me.)

The look Malin gives Simon as he enters the library. Like yes please talk to this boy. He has been so sad. Make it better, you're the only one who can.

Wille's phone lock screen is a purple flower on a black background? Why? What does it mean?

Marcus singing at the karaoke bar when they first walk in actually sounds like a cat dying. Idk how someone as musically inclined as Simon can be near him singing without cringing so hard.

Simon being surprised that Marcus wanted him to sing at karaoke night. Like seriously? He invited you out after hearing you sing. Do you really think you were gonna get away with not singing? You have the voice of an angel bby don't be so nervous. Although the song choice could not have been worse.....further points against Marcus...

How is everyone in this universe so freaking lucky to be able to get their actual name as their username on Insta. Ffs.

The queen clearly seeing a call from Wilhelm, after him not speaking to her all break, and expecting it to be a calm and happy conversation. Really? How did you not see this coming? He has had two significantly traumatizing events happen and no one has helped him try to process this. His brother died and not only did he have a sex tape leaked but it was done by somebody he thought he could trust, someone his brother told him he could trust. He has been on the verge of a breakdown for far too long now. It is way too late for take 3 deep breaths. My boy need some love and understanding, he needs his mom, not the queen.

[sighonaraa]

Ted Lasso for the fandom asks ❤️

the character i least understand: ooh this is a hard one!! i genuinely feel that most of the characters are so fleshed out and fascinating that i can understand them to some extent. maybe i'll have to go with james tartt sr. bc i have no interest in attempting to understand him.

interactions i enjoyed the most: soooo many!! keeley and rebecca is a perennial fave bc i see so much of my real-life friendships in theirs, and then of course jamie and roy is a genuine delight whether i choose to interpret them platonically or romantically. specific interactions i loved were ted's "be a goldfish" advice to sam, the whole team fixing sam's restaurant, any background jamie & sam moment, the jamie teaching roy to ride a bike scene, the Boot Room Breakdown, and any Team Himbo moment. also jamie and his mum (& simon!) is, probably, one of the unexpected absolute HIGHLIGHTS of season 3. give me more of them now.

the character who scares me the most: james tartt sr. i don't think this needs to be explained. rupert doesn't really scare me, but the general type of person that his character is based on, and how often those people in real life are allowed to get away with the behaviors he exhibits in the show, certainly does.

the character who is mostly like me: oh gosh! this is a tricky one. i think i have a bit of various characters in me -- i am very much like ted in that i use humor/positivity as a shield against, um. worse emotions. i also deeply relate to keeley in regards to her specific brand of agency; she's powerful yet silly and that's so important to me bc that IS me. and then sam, my beloved. i see a lot of my own general outlook on life in him, and i also get him so hard in the scenes where he doesn't handle his emotions too well and just. breaks down. soooo relatable ! (ditto for jamie's boot room breakdown).

hottest looks character: is this a contest? if so, keeley and jamie are WINNING. the competition does not even EXIST.

one thing i dislike about my fave character: jamie my love, the you of s1 will forever and always be a twat. i adore that boy but good god, his early behavior was horrible, particularly towards sam. insert lookhowfartheyvecome.png.

one thing i like about my hated character: technically my most hated character is james tartt sr. but i have nothing good to say about him so. rupert: your darth vader pinterest inspo board will always be fascinating to me.

a quote or scene that haunts me: "jesus. must've been traumatizing." "no, she loved it. oh, for me -- sorry, me, you mean. no. i don't know. i don't remember." // the wembley locker room scene // "thank you. and fuck you." // "you're not lost, my sexy little baby. you just aren't sure what direction you're going in. yet."

a death that left me indifferent: thankfully this is not that kind of show! i guess rebecca's dad's death didn't really affect me bc we didn't ever know him -- but god, rebecca herself destroyed me in that ep.

a character i wish died but didn’t: james tartt sr. i maintain that it would have been fascinating if jamie had received news his dad had died just before they played man city, kicking off his mental spiral bc do i have to plan a funeral for him? does he deserve that? do i deserve that? and essentially grappling with the fact that he isn't sure exactly what he should feel in regards to his father's death. ofc this would have ended with a rejection of the 'forgive him <3' mentality and allowed jamie to fully and truly just. let go of his dad. forever. without guilt. (@ ted lasso writers room: LET ME IN!!! LET ME INNNNN!!!!!!)

my ship that never sailed: honestly? i know this fandom is very tied to its ships, and i get that -- i was truly rooting for keeley and roy to get back together, and i can see the appeal of royjamie or royjamiekeeley. HOWEVER. i am, in the end, grateful that the show prioritized its platonic relationships over its romantic ones. for me, platonic friendships/queerplatonic relationships are never given the attention or respect they deserve and i adore them. they're so much more fascinating to me! i appreciate that the show left most of its romantic/potentially romantic relationships ambiguously defined bc it gives us, as fans, the ability to interpret the characters and their dynamics how we choose.

thank you for the ask! 💗💗💗

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

[thetypedwriter]

Cold Iron Heart Book Review

Cold Iron Heart by Melissa Marr Book Review 

I don’t think many people are aware or have read the Wicked Lovely series by Melissa Marr, but that’s alright. I originally started this book blog as I had so many thoughts and feelings about the books I was reading and yet no one to share them with. 

So I might be talking to me, myself and I in this book review, but at the end of the day, it’s still a way for me to express how I feel about the literature I’m consuming even if no one else is reading this. 

Wicked Lovely is one of my favorite series from when I was young. I still remember very clearly how my love story with these books started as it was odd and coincidental. I was at the grocery store with my mom and a promised “quick” trip quickly turned into an hour-long shopping spree as my mother was prone to do. 

Back then I was in middle school, had no cell phone, and was bored out of my mind. So what is any pre-teen to do? I went over to the small, sad book selection in the grocery story and picked up the novel with the most interesting cover. 

This book was Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. 

I read it the rest of the day and finished it that night, consuming page after page. I was completely transfixed. It was dark, gritty, violent, sexy-all things that my twelve-year old self found entirely fascinating. 

It was a fantasy book about fairies, but these fairies were deadly, life-sized, cruel, violent, beautiful and loving. 

I’ve been enamored with fairies and fairy lore ever since. All because of this book and the series that followed. It hooked me in ways that I still don’t fully comprehend, but I understood then that I hadn’t read anything like it before and I was drawn into Melissa Marr’s world and never quite left it, even all these years later. I’ve gone back and re-read Wicked Lovely multiple times and each time I still found it enjoyable and alluring. 

Cold Iron Heart is a different beast. 

A few days ago, my best friend (who is a journalist) sent me an email saying that local Arizona author, Melissa Marr, was releasing a new book and that she might have the opportunity to interview her. 

I was ecstatic, of course, and not so subtly tried to persuade my friend to let me silently snoop in on the interview (I didn’t, by the way). 

It was then that I realized I hadn’t checked in on Melissa Marr for some time-what had she been writing? Imagine my surprise that one of my favorite series of all time not only had a new book-a prequel no less, but also several new short stories. 

I was flabbergasted. And beyond excited. 

So I ordered the book immediately and read it the moment it arrived on my doorstep to eventually find myself with...mixed feelings with a negative tinge. Okay, more than a tinge, more like a cascading waterfall of negative feelings. 

First off, the book is a prequel. 

Now. Melissa Marr could have done so many cool things with this. There are so many interesting characters that I would have loved to see more in depth or delve into their histories. 

Like Miach and Beira, for example. I’ve heard about the late Summer King since book 1, but never got to read about him as he was dead before the series began. However, his legendary love with Beira, the Winter Queen, would have been so incredibly bewitching to read about it, especially if it involved the birth of Keenan. 

This would have been an awesome choice. 

Irial and Niall would have been another incredible one, probably the best one. We’ve been told over and over again throughout the series that these two hot-heads with a past used to run the Dark Court together, wreaking havoc, taking lovers, seeking new heights, etc. 

But do we get to see this transfixing time? Nope. 

I would even have settled for a story about the Hunt, Sorcha and Bannanach, literally any character done in the right way. 

But...no. Melissa Marr decides to write a prequel that is literally a carbon copy of the first book Wicked Lovely, but innumerably worse. 

Everything in the prequel is exactly the same as the original novels. Miach is dead, Keenan is looking for his Summer Queen, the Winter Girl is pissed off for not being the chosen love of Keenan’s, Irial is temptation in the flesh, Niall and Irial are at odds, Bananach is causing discord, Sorcha is isolated and frigid, the list goes on and on. 

Nothing of consequence, novelty, or importance happens in this book. 

Frankly, it just felt like a terrible redo of the first novel, just set 100 years back. 

I didn’t give a single flying crap about Thelma or Tam or whatever her name was. She was a worse version of Leslie, of Aislinn, of every other cool female character we eventually get to read about in the main series. 

Thelma was contradictory in the worst of ways. She said one thing, like she would rely on no man and never have children and then turned around and did every single one of them like some sort of hypocrite galore. 

She was so irritating and boring to read about that I tended to skim her parts because it was just paragraph after paragraph of bitching and moaning about the same goddamn things over and over again: stay away from fairies, oh god this fairy likes me, no sex, no children, no love and then bam! She just throws it all away. 

Urgh. 

The worst part too is that this isn’t a well written book. It’s repetitive, quite boring at times, and caters way too much to the reader. 

Something I loved about the first Wicked Lovely is that Melissa Marr kinda just tosses you into her world and calls it a day. She doesn’t hold your hand or over explain. She just describes and lets you glean for yourself. 

I loved this aspect of the original series. I liked learning about her world and the characters this way. 

Cold Iron Heart spits on the idea of this concept. Marr repeats herself so much about the same things, who Irial is, what fairies are, why this is happening, that I grew increasingly irritated as the book went on. 

Who on earth is she explaining this for? New readers? Why in the world would any new reader start with this book? The newest one that comes after six others???? It makes no goddamn sense. 

So not only did I feel patronized and aggravated, but the love story between Thelma and Irial grated on me as there was no basis for their love. 

It was ridiculous with no shred of authenticity and I hated it, especially knowing that he already loves Niall and Leslie only to come back and say, “wait a moment! I had another true love that I’ve never mentioned before. Yeah. Her name was Thelma. Or Tam. Or whatever, I don’t know. I knew her for three days, most of which was just sex, and then I lost her after she had my baby but I conveniently forgot about it because of nonsensical plot! Hahahah, good right?”

No. Not good. Horrible. 

Overall, this book is a waste of time and trees. 

I don’t know why Melissa Marr even wrote and published this. I can see her writing this for herself because why not, but as a fan and a reader this was beyond disappointing. 

It’s like how all Harry Potter fans felt when J.K. Rowling wrote The Cursed Child and we got movies about Newt Scamander when we literally wanted anything else-Marauder series anyone??

It’s a particular kind of egregious offense when a favorite series or author of yours ends up ruining the canon you’re in love with. For that reason alone, I am stripping Cold Iron Heart from my heart and mind, like it never existed. 

Just like I did with Cursed Child, or the fact that you-know-who dies in Death Note (if you know, you know). I just...don’t believe it. It ruined all the lovely things Marr had previously written and the stories that defined so much of my love for YA, for fantasy, and for my own writing as a whole. 

I know for a lot of you this was a bumbling mess of a review with little to no clarity of the plot or who these characters are. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you are still reading if you didn’t know the book or the series in the first place, but that’s alright. 

Like I said at the beginning, this is a way to get my intense feelings and thoughts down onto paper and now that I have I feel marginally better, although still pissed off that this book exists and that I currently own it. 

Sigh. 

Well if you stuck around for the ride, I appreciate it. If you skipped this particular book review, I understand that too. 

Recommendation: Burn this book. However, if you want a gritty, tantalizing fantasy story, pick up the original Wicked Lovely and be whisked away into a world that has stuck with me since the first moment I read it on the fateful day at the grocery store. 

Score: 3/10

[problematic-faves-appreciation]

Problematic Faves Cliffs Notes: Harvey Dent/Two-Face

Batman (1980) #329

Summary: Once a crusading district attorney that worked alongside Batman and Jim Gordon to fight crime – now the duality-obsessed super criminal known as Two-Face.

Harvey Dent also serves as a dark reflection of Batman's own struggles living a dual life with conflicting identities.

Main Goal: To enact his own justice whilst committing crimes.

Fears: Uncertainty, himself in general [the things he's capable of, specifically], losing control, his loved ones dying, his darker half discovering Bruce's secret identity [Detective Comics (2016) #1021], Renee Montoya's rejection [Batman: No Man's Land, novel], and the Joker [Joker (2008), only].

Mindset: Sees himself bound by fate and its will. As a result of Harvey's black-and-white worldviews, he considers his two-headed (scarred on one side) silver dollar a truly objective instrument of justice due to it only yielding two simple, 50/50 outcomes at the end of every coin toss.

"Some people go to the beach to forget their problems. They can watch the waves for hours. I understand the fascination.

There's a pattern – then there is no pattern.

It's the same with the coin. We want it all to mean something – we want to find the pattern – but in the final analysis, it's just waves."

— Harvey Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

"He was always interested in the law – some might say obsessed. Man's law gave order to Harvey's world – they delineated the parameters of right and wrong, good and evil. They gave him something to believe in."

— Gilda Dent, Secret Origins Special (1989) #1

•••

Hugo Strange: Let's go back further, you were a rising star, a beacon of light for this city. A white knight riding in to save it with the Dark Knight not far behind.

Harvey Dent: You can leave him out of this. He is wrong. They all are. No one understands the beauty of fate's hand. I am grateful to Falcone. He gave me a clarity; a purity that few will know. Everything boils down to a simple choice, this way or that way, good... or bad.

Hugo Strange: Do you really believe that?

Harvey Dent: How could I not?

— Batman: Arkham City

•••

Batman: If you pull the trigger, how are you different from the Roman?

Harvey Dent: That's Jim Gordon talking. You know the system doesn't work. That justice can be decided like the flip of a coin.

— The Long Halloween

•••

"You thought we could be decent men in an indecent time... but you were wrong! The world is cruel. And the only morality in a cruel world is chance. Unbiased, unprejudiced, fair."

— Harvey Dent, The Dark Knight

•••

"Life's a lottery, Holman. It's chance that decides who lives and who dies. Who gets cancer. Which kid is born with spina bifida. Who gets run over by a truck.

This [the coin] is what decides whether or not I blow your wife's brains out."

— Harvey Dent, Joker's Asylum: Two-Face #1 

Teen Titans Spotlight (1987) #13

Character Traits:

🌗 Loving • Idealistic • Genuine • Principled • Resolute • Focused • Driven • Workaholic • Passionate • Eloquent • Wrathful • Obssessed • Brooding • Self-loathing • Black-and-white thinking • Dauntless • Fair • Honest (generally) • Man of his word • Learned helplessness (regarding the coin and his choices) • Self-destructive • Unpredictable • Hair-trigger temper • Can be persuaded • Charitable (depends on coin toss) • Takes his pain out on others • Self-enabling • Serious • Harsh • Intimidating • Vengeful • Physically violent • Self-aware • Conflicted • Feels remorse • Tries, but fails to improve as a person • Too Dependent on his coin • Fatalistic • Suicidal • Forgiving • Self-centered, but not selfish 🌗

Key Facts:

Harvey Dent...

• Had mental health issues long before his disfigurement [Batman Annual (1990 #14, Batman: The Animated Series - Episode 10, and Batman: Arkham City].

• His father physically abused him every day as a child. Christopher Dent used a double-headed coin to make Harvey believe he could "avoid" the beatings if the coin landed on the non-existent "tails" [Batman Annual #14].

• Bruce Wayne was his childhood friend [Rebirth universe & Batman: Nightwalker].

• Harvey "Legal Eagle" Dent was the top of his class [Secret Origins Special (1989) #1].

• Paid for his father's nice apartment [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime & Punishment].

• Half of Harvey wanted to love his father, while the other half wished him dead. Despite everything, he tried to make peace with Christopher prior to the acid attack [Batman Annual #14].

• Never stopped loving/thinking about Gilda Dent when she disappeared from his life following the events of the Long Halloween [Batman (2006) #653 & Batman (2011) #712].

What's more, Harvey continued loving Gilda so much that he wound up murdering her second husband's killer in a pre-Long-Halloween continuity [Batman (1980) #329] because the man's death left Gilda grieving.

• Fun fact: The Power of Love helped him resist Poison Ivy's pheromones in the Dark Victory #11!

Begone, thot!

• Blamed Batman for what happened to him with Salvatore Maroni Carmine Falcone and the acid attack that scarred his face [Batman: Arkham Knight].

• Uses his coin to determine whether he should kill or spare his victims. Also, he has been known to perform acts of charity [Detective Comics (1942) #66 & Batman: The Silver Age Newspaper Comics Volume 3 (1969-1972)] sometimes.

• Loves and hates Gotham [Batman and Robin (2013) #23.1].

• Dislikes hypocrites [Batman: Two-Face (1995) - Crime and Punishment & The Spectre (2001) #5].

• Developed strong feelings for Renee Montoya in the Batman: No Man's Land storyline.

• Continued caring about Renee deeply, despite the events of Gotham Central (2003) #10 [Convergence: The Question #1-2].

Received training from Batman [Batman #653] and Deathstroke [Deathstroke (2018) #38].

• Has tried growing better as a person, but he keeps failing [Batman Annual #14 & Batman and Robin Adventures (1995) #1-2].

• Has re-scarred himself more than once [Batman Annual #14, Batman #653, and Batman: Black and White (1996) #1].

• For all his faults and crimes – such as nearly beating Dick Grayson to death in Robin: Year One – he has helped people [The Batman Chronicles (1999) #16], defended Jim Gordon from himself as Jim's defense lawyer [Detective Comics (1999) #739], cares about the women in his life, and keeps his word when the coin comes up good.

He is a complex character, period.

Other Facts:

• Has seen Cocteau's "Beauty and the Beast" [Batman (1986) #397].

• Knows how to sculpt [Detective Comics (1986) #563].

• Owns a "thememobile" like Batman [Batman (1987) #410]!

• Likes baseball [Batman (1987) #411].

• Likes symmetry [Batman (1989) #442].

Smokes, but also doesn't [Batman (1994) #513].

"My own version of the literary reference mark known as a diesis – more commonly known as a double-dagger! My next pair shall strike to the heart of the matter!" — Harvey Dent, Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #1 – the words of a man who certainly reads a lot!

Batman Annual #14 & Teen Titans Spotlight #13 – A himbo he is not!

• Reads classic books such as "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" [Detective Comics #66] and "A Tale of Two Cities" [Batman: Two-Face Strikes Twice #2].

• Still finds putting criminals behind bars fun [Batman Gotham Adventures (1999) #12].

• Can speak Spanish [The Batman Chronicles #16].

• Doesn't mind hitting women at all. There are so many examples of this; Harvey confirmed it himself [Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7], and beat up Jim Gordon's wife in Batman (1999) #572.

• Made a self-insert comic book in an art therapy program. Yup, he wrote and drew it himself [Detective Comics (2001) #753]!

Called it "The Adventures of Copernicus Dent and His Best Girl and Plucky Assistant R'Nee!" 

• Plays chess with Batman [Gotham Knights (2002) #32].

• Has watched Star Trek [Nightwing (2008) #150].

• Fought and killed a werewolf [The 2008 DC Universe Halloween Special]. Yes, really.

• Was a cult leader [Detective Comics (2020) #1020].

• Rebirth!Harvey is now working as a jailhouse lawyer in Blackgate [Detective Comics (2020) #1024].

• Understands how binary code works, but computer geeks make him sick? [Robin (1994) #11] Yeah.

• Has kids. Twins! [Batman: Two-Faces Strikes Twice]. It looks like they're irrelevant.

• Remembered Renee's birthday and sent her tulips [Detective Comics (2000) #747].

• Has been a judge before [The New Batman Adventures - Episode 24 & Arkham Unhinged (2013) #11].

• Hates odd-numbers [Robin: Year One #2].

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘Arcade Antics’ - Saeyoung Choi x Reader Drabble

My part of a trade with @dis-gorl who was kind enough to let me post it here!! I hope you guys like it! <3 <3 It’s an arcade date with Seven!  Implied female reader but it doesn’t play a huge part in the story, it’s just fluffy and fun <3

Word Count: 3.5k Rating: SFW

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

To say you were nervous would be an understatement. You’d never been on a date before. Of course, you were very excited to be there, but the butterflies in your stomach where threatening to fly up into your throat and suffocate you at any given moment. You’d gotten there early just to give yourself a chance to calm down, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect as it had just provided extra time for your mind to race. Why had Seven asked you out anyway? Could he see the private messages between you and Jaehee where you had subtly mentioned liking him? No, he couldn’t have. Actually, he probably could if he wanted to but Seven wouldn’t invade your privacy like that unless he absolutely had to. And yet, what if he did know? Is that why he had asked you out? Well, he hadn’t asked you Out out, the word ‘date’ had never been said explicitly, but he hadn’t denied it when Zen asked what his ‘intentions’ were. He didn’t say it was a date, but he also didn’t say it wasn’t a date, so what were you supposed to believe? As always, Seven loved to confuse people with his antics, almost to the point of difficulty, it seemed to thrill him somewhat. Regardless, it was your first time alone with the redhead and you were both excited and nervous about it.

You sipped at the little waterbottle in your hands, trying to look casual as you turned your head from side to side, anything to keep yourself distracted. You kept looking to see which direction he’d be coming from, since he really hadn’t given you any details aside from the general ‘You wanna meet me at 2pm to hang out?’ so you weren’t even sure if you were dressed for the right occasion. After a lot of deliberation, you’d chosen nice but comfy clothes, since you didn’t want to be overdressed.

You anxiously checked your phone, it was a few minutes past 2pm, but maybe he had just been caught up in traffic. There were several chatroom notifications popping up on your phone and it was rather apparent that Jumin and Zen had gotten into some sort of disagreement. Right as you were about to open the chatroom to see what the drama had been, a cherry red Ferrari pulled up beside you. Wow. You weren’t a car person, but you could tell that it looked expensive, far too expensive. Nothing you’d be able to afford, even if your wildest dreams. You were sure that the person who owned it must be an asshole or overcompensating for something to be driving around in such a flashy car. That’s why you were so surprised when an equally cherry-red sprout of hair popped out from the drivers seat and ushered you over with a goofy grin. Your heart raced at the sight of him.

‘Seven! Wait- this is your car?’ You knew he was a fan of cars, and pricey ones at that, but God. This was something else, especially given that it was Seven and he lived in the same clothes day in day out because he didn’t know how to use the washing machine.

‘Yep!’ He replied, stroking the roof and whistling slightly in awe at the car, ‘One of my babies, ain’t she a beauty?’

‘I mean, yeah, sure. It’s very nice but isn’t it expensive?’

Without even missing a beat, he replied ‘My babies are investments; you look after them! Not that I could ever part with them, anyway. Fancy a spin? It’ll be much quicker than walking.’ Seven asked, moving around the hood of the car to open the door for you, dramatically bowing and calling you ‘My Lady’. You laughed, tentatively climbing into the pristine car. It was much lower down that you were expecting, and you were terrified of getting even the slightest speck of dirt of the floor. Just for good measure, you tightened the lid on your waterbottle.

‘Where are we going?’ You asked, but he only grinned back at you before pulling his own seatbelt on and waiting for you to do the same.

‘Shhh, it’s a surprise. A true magician never reveals his tricks.’ Seven said proudly as he turned the car radio on and began pulling out of the parking space. You were impressed, he was a much safer driver than you had anticipated him to be, given his personality and general procrastinatory nature.

‘Oh, so you’re a magician now?’ You joked back.

‘Basically. I know how to make balloon animals.’ He said with all the confidence in the world, as though that was the only specification required to become a magician.

‘And where did you learn how to do that?’

‘That’s classified information! Although, since I am a kind and merciful God Seven, I’ll make you a balloon poodle.’

‘How kind.’ You said, half-heartedly rolling your eyes at him and looking out of the window, trying to figure out where he was taking you.

‘I’m always kind!’ He joked as he continued to drive. He wasn’t wrong. Seven was always kind to you, even when he wasn’t in the greatest of moods, he’d always tried to shoulder your own pain too and cheer you up. He had a good heart, anyone could see that, even if he couldn’t.

The car ride wasn’t particularly long, only around twenty or thirty minutes. You watched people as they stared at Seven’s car in shock and awe, and most definitely some jealously. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel like a bit of a celebrity sitting in such a fancy car, but it was something you didn’t feel like you could get used to. Being in Seven’s company, on the other hand, was something you could quickly melt in to. That anxiety you had felt before he’d arrived had quickly dissipated with his stupid jokes and cheesy grin, however the butterflies were most definitely there to stay.

He told you to close your eyes as you started to get closer and closer to the destination and insisted that you kept them closed even when the car stopped. Seven got out, walked around to the passenger side of the car and offered you his hand to help you up, since the car was very low down and you were unable to see. Perhaps it was the fact you couldn’t see that heightened your senses, but Seven’s hand was so warm and strong in your own that you almost gasped at his touch. He squeezed your hand slightly as he helped you out of his car, repeating once again that you were not allowed to open your eyes. There was something about his grip that felt so safe and secure that you missed his touch as soon as he released you.

‘Noooo peeking~’ He sang, turning you around as he did so. ‘I’m not looking!’ You replied, gesturing that your eyes were squeezed shut. ‘Okay, okay!! Just a few more steps and… We’re here! On the count of three, open your eyes. One!’ ‘Two…’ You added, someone tentatively. ‘Three!’ He piped up again, clearly overcome with his own excitement and being unable to wait any longer.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself standing before a huge arcade. He’d parked far away enough that you weren’t able to hear the sounds of the machines as they would have spoiled the surprise, but close enough that you could catch a glimpse of the colourful lights and flashing games. How on Earth had you lived this close to such a big arcade and never knew it was there, you couldn’t believe. You were so excited! You looked at Seven, who was matching your excitement. Of course he would have chosen a place like this, it was so fun and excitable, so him. So very, very Seven. Plus, he probably knew all of the cheats for different games, or at the very least, the skill to win at them effortlessly.

‘You like it?’ He asked, hoping that he had chosen the right location.

‘Yes! How did you find this place? I never knew something like this was so close!’

‘Let’s just say I have some connections~ Let’s go!’ He grabbed your hand tightly, pulling you alongside him in a childish glee. You were trying, desperately, to not let the blush rise to your face at the fact he grabbed your hand once again. The thoughts ran through your head at top speed, surely, he didn’t need to hold your hand again, so maybe it was a date? Maybe he did just want to hold your hand? Your heart was fluttering throughout your chest, almost to the point of light-headedness. No, no, you couldn’t think about that right now. You just wanted to enjoy the time with Seven regardless of whether he considered it a date or not.

‘After you, my lady~’ He opened the door for you, bowing slightly as he had done when he opened the cardoor. Laughing, you curtsied as you walked into the arcade before stopping almost dead in your tracks only a few steps in. You gasped and heard Seven chuckle in response. It was alive. So many colours and sounds and excitement all in one place. There were kids running around with coins and candy in hand, high off of whatever sugary snack they had won with their tickets. The sound of coin pushers and claw-machines whirred heavy in the air, making you feel just like a kid in a candy shop once again. Well, a kid in an arcade to be more precise. You weren’t sure what you wanted to go on first, but the choice was vast. You could understand why Seven chose it and you were grateful that he had.

‘Oh, wow. It’s wonderful. This is kind of what I imagine the inside of your head is like.’ You looked on in whimsy.

‘The mind of God Seven is a weird and wonderful place, you wouldn’t want to venture in too deep, who knows what you’ll find? Maybe something like this-‘ He started, before immediately running down one specific section of the arcade. Oh no, you could see where he was headed.

‘Seven! Come back!’ You called as the redhead ran down the Nerf gun aisle. This could only end so well, and by that, you meant not well at all. Not for you, at least. He was a much faster runner than you had anticipated, so by the time you caught up with him, Seven was already putting some coins into giant arcade game where you shot nerf bullets into clown faces, with the goal of knocking them down. While you initially tried to insist that you had no aim at all, Seven was already handing you the matching Nerf gun and assuring you that having no aim was part of the fun!

You picked up the gun, waiting for the countdown to end before a spray of foam bullets erupted from Seven’s Nerf gun, taking down the top row of clowns in quick succession. You barely even had time to comment on it before he was trying to shout over the game’s booming music to encourage you to keep trying to hit the clowns and that the goal wasn’t to aim perfectly, it was just to knock them down! You held down the trigger, trying to mimic the hacker’s actions and managed to, surprisingly, knock down a clown head or two yourself. Still, it was very obvious that Seven was doing far better as the tickets that spouted from his machine just kept pooling on the floor beside him. It was over in about a minute or two, and you were ever so slightly winded from the excitement, but you were too happy to really care. Seven walked to fetch a bucket that the two of you combined your arcade tickets in and carried it on his arm like a little picnic basket.

‘Okay! Where to next?’

‘Can we go on the claw-machines?’ You asked, rooting around in your pockets for some change.

‘Don’t worry, I can cover it. I didn’t tell you where we were going in the first place so I’m not expecting you to have much cash on you anyway. Besides, my last job paid me entirely in coins so I have plenty to spare.’

‘Are they allowed to do that?’ You threw a tentative side eye at him. You knew they didn’t particularly treat Seven very well, but you would have thought that they would at the very least pay him properly for all of the work that he did for them.

‘I mean… They’re allowed to do whatever they like, I guess. But let’s not get into that!’ He started and then shrugged, quickly finding means to change the conversation, ‘That one has a Shrek plushie!’

You raised your eyebrow, partially in disbelief, but turned to see where Seven was pointing ‘In the year 2021?’

‘Shrek is Love, Shrek is life, and most importantly, Shrek is timeless.’ He said, grabbing a handful of coins from his pocket and putting a few of them into the machine. The claw-grabber burst to life,

‘You can do it! Do it for Shrek!’ You yelled behind him.

‘I have to! Gah! This machine is such a cheat!’ He cried as the weak claw dropped Shrek onto his head. Immediately, Seven pushed several more coins into the slot, moving the claw once again and picking Shrek up by the ass. You waited with excited, but bated breath as you watched the plushie rise from the bed of his brethren into the air, slowly dangling over them as he moved closer and closer to the drop box. It fell, causing the winning buzzer to explode out of the machine.

‘Yes! You got him!’ You gave a little jump and a clap, congratulating Seven for his prize.

‘Shrek!’ Seven yelled as he bent down to reach into the drop-box. It was by no means an expensive looking plushie, he was definitely poorly made and a bit ugly in the face, but it was a handsome prize nonetheless. Seven certainly seemed happy with it. He grinned at it, before pulling out his phone and telling you to get into the selfie with him and Shrek to send to the RFA Chatroom. You smiled, putting up a peace sign so your hands didn’t look awkward as Seven took the picture. He clicked his phone a couple of times before proudly presenting you with the Shrek plushie, ‘as an offering.’

Oh god, were you blushing? Was it obvious? At first, you tried to tell Seven that he should keep his prize, since he was the one that won it in the first place, but he insisted that he won it for you. He handed you the stuffed toy, and you gave it a little squeeze.

‘Thank you…’ You said, looking up at him with a smile. His golden eyes widened slightly before he looked away, unusually embarrassed. He scratched the back of his head and laughed a little.

‘Ah-! What next? You wanna go on the coin pusher?’ He rushed out, ‘You can lead the way!’

Trying to focus your eyes between all the bright electric colours, what you couldn’t see was Seven glancing between you and the pictures he had taken on his phone, softly smiling to himself. He had constantly stolen glances at you all day, he’d trembled slightly when he had taken your hand outside, and then couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hold it a second time too. He’d chosen the arcade because you had mentioned wanting to feel like a kid again, just having a fun time with no worries. He’d wanted to tell you how cute you looked, but it was so different trying to compliment someone in person. He wanted to be the 707 that you spoke to so frequently over the phone and in the chatrooms, but he suddenly found himself a little bit shy. Saeyoung was much shyer than Seven, but that was just one thing out of the list of stuff he wanted to tell you but couldn’t.

Ahead, you found yourself at the coin pushers and selected one that had a little plastic car keychain right on the edge, so you wanted to win it for Seven as a thank you for the plushie than you had under your arm.

Seven disappeared for a few moments before promptly returning with some cotton candy on a stick that one of the food vendors had been selling. He wiped his hands with some antibacterial spray before pulling small tufts of pink cotton candy away from the stink and feeding them to you. You both laughed as he missed your lips completely, causing the pale strands to stick to your cheek before he finally managed to aim the treat properly. He fed some to himself, since your hands were preoccupied with the coin machine, and thought it was both intriguing and endearing that you were desperately attempting to cover his view with your jacket so that he could not see what you were trying to win for him.

Eventually, the car dropped. You told him he had to close his eyes and place one of his hands out in anticipation. It was only when Seven closed his eyes, that you realised how tired he looked. Sigh. You didn’t know much about his job, but they really did work Seven to the bone and then even more. Had he stayed up all night to finish his work just for this? You shook your head, not wanting to make yourself upset and worry him and end up ruining the day. You looked at him again. He was practically vibrating with excitement, you supposed that he probably did not receive gifts often. Or at all. You placed the little keychain in the palm of his hand.

‘Tada!~’ You sang.

‘OOOOOOO! I love it, this will make a fine addition to my car keys, 606!’ Seven played with the little car, thoroughly inspecting it with sparkles in his eyes. Yeah, he definitely didn’t receive gifts very often.

‘606?’

‘That’s my codename for you.’ He replied with the same cheesy grin you had seen earlier.

‘Okay! I’m 606 now.’ You joked, watching him hook the little car onto his keys. If it weren’t for the loud music, you would almost be certain that he would be able to hear your heart thudding against your ribcage. And yet, what you didn’t know was that he felt the exact same way.

‘Where do you wanna go nex- Ah!’ He had begun to ask, but suddenly something bumped into him. Someone. Well, two little ‘someones’ actually. Two brunette boys, twins probably, bounced off the side of Seven’s leg. Neither one was hurt, but they were worried that Seven would be angry with them. One started to cry a little bit, and the other stood in front of him to talk to Seven.

‘Wah! Sorry, mister!’ The bolder twin said, before helping the other one up.

‘It’s okay~ Watch where you’re going, you don’t want to bump into a meanie!’ Seven melted at the sight of the two boys, only around seven or eight in age. It made sense to you that Seven liked kids, since he was such a big kid himself, and you adored the warm smile he had for them. There was an emotion in his eyes that you weren’t quite sure you could explain, but it was definitely a sentimental one. ‘Actually, would the two of you like these? You could probably make better use for them than I would.’

The two boys looked into the bucket of machine tickets that Seven presented them with, crouching down slightly to talk to them. The shyer boy, who was now as equally excited as his brother shouted, ‘Woah! There are so many!

‘Are you sure, Mister?’ The first twin asked.

‘Yep! Here you go! Have fun, don’t stray too far from your parents!’ He ruffled his hands into their heads as he sent them on their way.

‘Thank you!’ The boys said in sync, holding the bucket between them as they waved goodbye to you and Seven. He stood back up, sheepishly apologising for giving away your ticket tokens.

‘You did a nice thing for them.’ You smiled, placing your hand on his arm. A blush erupted over his cheeks, to the point where they were almost the same colour as his hair.

‘A-ah! I should drop you back home before Zen threatens to break down my door or something, he’s been calling non-stop to make sure I haven’t kidnapped you.’ Seven rushed out each word in quick succession in a frantic tone, clearly flustered.

‘Thank you for arcade trip, Seven.’ You replied, a rush of affection falling over you. It was now or never. You had to do it.  In a moment of uncharacteristic courage, you pressed a kiss against his warm cheek.

[chalkrevelations]

And finally, here we are, Episode 36 of Word of Honor, and I have some FEELINGS. Let me show you them.

There also will be Episode 37 here, btw, because I’m not gonna do a separate reaction for a three-minute episode, no matter how grateful I am that we got it.

(Spoilers, so if that’s not what you want right now, scroll on by and come back after you’ve watched it. Them.)

Let’s get to the meat of the episode right away: THE HAIRPIN. And Wen Kexing knowing Zhou Zishu would have it, because he’d definitely take it with him if he was going on a suicide mission! Y’all. I really have to yell about this for a minute: That’s how secure WKX has become in his knowledge of what he means to ZZS! After all that time angsting and hiding the truth of his identity and worrying that he’s not worthy of ZZS and that he’d be rejected if ZZS knew the truth about him! But now, WKX has finally reached a point where he understands and knows (zhiji, the one I know) he’s so important to ZZS that ZZS would never ever go off to die without taking his most precious possession, the hairpin that his husband gave him! I can’t. My heart. This is like a declaration, after all that time saying they were zhiji, that WKX finally is able to truly see ZZS as that, to know him in his bones, and all of this is also delivered in the middle of WKX in a strop, irritably chastising his husband as an evil brat for running away from home to get himself killed, with Gong Jun’s little  >:(  face in full effect, and I am so filled with love for this show and this couple at this point that I have to pause Youtube just so I can roll around on the sofa, clutching at my chest and scaring the cats with my inarticulate noises. This is so good, y’all. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Also, now you know how it feels, WKX, you asshole. Which I suppose is why you even confess that it will would be more painful for the one who survives when if the other dies. And you were prepared to do that to him a second time? I cannot believe you, you asshole. You get to sleep on the ice couch for a month.

And then there’s some Six Cultivation Power mind-melding and what looks to be an INCREDIBLY STUPID and HEARTBREAKING ending that would leave us Burying One of Our Gays, so it’s a good thing Episode 37 (all three minutes of it) exists. It would be nice, though, if the connective tissue from 36 to 37 made any sense. Or existed whatsoever. Just, like, throw me a bone, here, show. Some kind of explicit hand-waviness that actually gets mentioned for why Ye Baiyi apparently was not as smart as he thought he was and didn’t really know what he was talking about when he was doomsaying about how one of the pair will surely, oh surely perish. None of this “Sooooo, they managed to figure out the technique and master it?” from some random shidi who never actually gets an answer. I mean, the door was left open for fanwankery on this one, with what looks to be a very last-minute conceit of all this being a story told by grown-up Chengling to his disciples, which begs the question of how much of what he’s telling them is totally accurate, given any number of issues, including the spottiness of human recall, the possibility (based on the fact they’re still on the mountain in Ep 37) that Chengling never actually saw either of them again to get the full story, and the way Gao Xiaolian basically calls bs on the whole thing. But this is still a gossamer-thin thread on which to hang Ep 37. Ep 37 basically functions as reassurance because of the mere fact of its existence, because they’re clearly both alive, right there in front of your face, regardless of the other fact that it doesn’t actually make any sense, based on Ep 36. It ultimately doesn’t matter if there is no Step 2, because Step 3: Profit! is … right there. In evidence. Happening. On your screen. No matter how vaguely unsatisfying the lack of Step 2 may be.

I do feel like there’s an interesting meta thing going on here, in that the entire show has been about – let’s be honest, it was never really about the plot - queer-coding this couple in ways that supposedly fly just enough under the radar that people can handwave them as Just Good Friends and Brothers (I mean, I guess) with a Bury Your Gays tragic ending (ugh) for good measure. And Chengling is telling a story in-universe that seems to conform to some of this same formula. And yet, we all know well and good that these guys were husbands. (I mean, barring anything else, they’re a couple in the original source material, so checkmate, censorship.) So, are we supposed to carry the same assurance out of the show, on a meta level, that what appears to be happening at the end of Ep 36 - what we discover we’re learning through Chengling’s story-telling - isn’t really the truth? Just, look: While we’re getting the Good Friends and Brothers push, there’s stuff like obvious voice-over work that doesn’t match the much more queer version of what the actors actually said, which is apparently blazingly clear to any viewers who know Mandarin and can manage to lip-read. The show has literally put de-queered words into these characters’ mouths. You can’t trust what you hear. But apparently the show has also made this obvious enough that, if you’re a good enough speaker of the language the show is being told in, and you have a good enough eye, you can see what is actually going on. Are we being taught to trust our eyes more than our ears, are we being told that what we’re being told - by the end of Ep 36 on a meta level, by Ye Baiyi-through-Chengling’s-story on an in-universe level, and by what we learn about what happened from Chengling’s story, itself, also on an in-universe level - is inherently untrustworthy, but that if we “speak the language” of this show well enough, and have a good enough eye, we can decode it and see what “actually” happened and is later made explicit in Ep 37? Is Ep 37 canon? Does it matter, when “what is canon” is already so slippery on this show, where you can apparently lip-read something that’s different than what you’re hearing, and it functions as canon because of the mere fact of its existence, because it’s clearly … right there. In evidence. Happening. On your screen.

Anyway, just some thoughts on all that, which I guess is my own fanwankery work to join up the end of Ep 36 with Ep 37, which was, of course, delightful. No matter how much I might bemoan the lack of Step 2, I had a stupid, dopey grin on my face all the way through Ep 37 and might have even teared up a tiny bit at the very end. You can’t prove anything. Lemme tell you, though, it’s a good idea to have 37 on hand when you run into the brick wall of the end of 36, because while WKX’s willingness to sacrifice himself for love is theoretically great, it is not something I actually want to see come to fruition, given the pall it would cast over the entire joyous experience that the ZZS/WKX relationship is throughout the rest of the show. Sure, there’s always fic, but there’s a heaviness that hangs over the Bury Your Gays trope, and it’s retroactively ruined shows for me before. So THANK YOU, to those of you who hooked me up so I could immediately move on to Ep 37.

What else? Other things:

OK, so, first, I have to get this out of the way: Did we actually already see all of those “flashbacks” we get in the first part of the ep, during the conversation between Zhou Zishu and Jing Beiyuan, when all the political stuff is supposed to be finally falling together to give us the big picture? I would have to go back and scrummage through those eps to be sure, and I’m not going to spend time doing that (yet) when I still need to do some keysmashing about Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing OH MY GOD, but I do feel like some of this was new information, not just stuff that I’d glossed over because it didn’t seem important at the time? If so, not on, show. I will be keeping an eye out for that on re-watch. I am, however, perfectly willing to accept – if it turns out to be true – that you utterly distracted me with the failboats-in-love storyline, to the detriment of my focus on, you know, plot or whatever. It’s happened before. (It’s one of the reasons I need to go back and watch The Untamed again, at some point.)

OMG FAKE KEY! And as ZZS points out, this has been foreshadowed for us from early on, with WKX’s fake Glazed Armors plot. :bangs table with fist: YES. This show is going to reward re-watching SO MUCH.

Duan Pengju, oh my god, this asshole. The look on his face when the Armory didn’t open was so gratifying. Also, ha. I wondered when ZZS was finally going to be done with his shit. In fact, so much gratification in this whole scene. Xie Wang’s face when he realizes WKX double-crossed him – what, did you think you were the only tricksy one in that little alliance, Xie’er? And, holy shit – I cannot believe that Xie’er actually words this as WKX failing him, taking us back around to this theme one more time again. I would maybe feel a little worse for you if you hadn’t been a hairsbreadth away from killing him before ZZS stopped you in the last ep, Xie’er. Also if you hadn’t helped get A-Xiang killed. So I think the fail in this relationship is going both ways. Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get the time WKX had to start untangling yourself from the ways your abuser has fucked you up and over.

It once again becomes blindingly clear why ZZS has been my ride-or-die during this whole thing: Under the grumpy, irritable, day-drinking yet somehow eminently practical exterior, he’s actually an idealistic do-gooder who just wants to make the world a better place for people and sacrifice himself for great justice. Never let it be said that I don’t have a type. Also, I mean. Zhang Zhehan’s FACE. Let’s don’t discount the power of that.

Final word: Don’t miss Ep 37. All three minutes of it. They are perhaps the most important three minutes of the entire show.

(I mean, not FINAL final word. I expect to be going back for a re-watch and posting more things, particularly on eps from before I started typing up 1000K-word reactions this first time around.)

[pascal-istheway]

Deep Water - Chapter 1

Read it here on ao3!

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Warnings: Some Violence - Implied Non-Con

Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Reader, Santiago "Pope" Garcia/Reader

Characters: Francisco “Catfish” Morales, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Triple Frontier Ensemble

Tags: Slow Burn, Smut, Fluff, Angst, We are basically torturing Frankie for this, I’m apologizing in advance

Word Count: 3130

MASTERLIST

Two Years Ago - Columbia

The last call anyone had heard from you was four days ago. You’d been in Columbia on a humanitarian mission with a local group, something about teaching today’s youth or whatever, Santiago hadn’t really listened to much if he’d been really honest. He just wanted to make sure his baby sister was safe and with people that could look out for her.

You had assured him on the call that you were fine, you’d brought the knife you were allowed to carry with you, but had to leave the gun he insisted he buy for you back in the states to which he explained how that defeated the purpose of owning the gun. You just rolled your eyes at him, knowing how overprotective your brother was. Santi was always on you for being safe, regardless if it was in Columbia or back home in your apartment in a somewhat sketchy neighborhood.

But as you bounced in the back of a windowless van, hands bound and eyes covered, no clue where you or your crew were being taken, you suddenly wished very much that you’d had that gun.

Five years ago - You

“Load up! Let’s go!” Santi smacked the side of the truck as he yelled out to the apartment for you, boards and cooler loaded up. “Come on! We’re wasting daylight here and the guys are already out there!” he waited a few more seconds before hollering your name again.

“I’m coming! Jesus, hold your fuckin horses, I was trying to find my hat…” you ran out to the truck, opening the old creaky door to his rusted ford and sliding in next to your brother on the bench seat. You casually toss your hat in the back seat before buckling your seatbelt. The beauty of living in California was all the access the best surfing the states had to offer. Your brother and his best friends from his unit were all meeting up for an early morning at the local spot and you decided to tag along, hoping to see the boys again.

You’d known some of these guys your whole life, thankful that they all got to serve together. Santiago would’ve been ok on his own, but he and Frankie had been close since they were kids. Knowing that they were out there in the shit together gave you the comfort that they were having their backs covered.

Santiago drives into the public parking lot, all of the guys already there except for one, Tom, who you had yet to meet. You hop out, saying your good mornings to most of them while keeping your eyes out for Frankie. You knew he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to be here but yet, you didn’t see him amongst the guys.

Not wanting to seem desperate, you just helped unload, carrying things to the spot on the beach for the guys to start getting their gear on and ready. The sun had barely started to come up, making the sky a brilliant color of orange and pink. The most beautiful view in California.

“Oh shit! I forgot my hat in the truck! I’ll be right back,” you run back to the truck, feet struggling in the sand.

When you reach the truck, you fling the door open and bend over, searching for your hat that’s fallen on the floor in the back seat.

“Careful, you don’t want to get stuck like that…” you hear him behind you, teasing you as you snatch your hat and spring back up.

“Frankie! You made it!” you squeal, throwing your arms around him. He pulls you in, arms snaking around your back as he tucks his nose into your hair.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he says softly into your ear before pulling away, “last real surf of the year” he smiles, the corners of his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

There’s a sadness in his voice, one anyone else would miss if they didn’t know him. But you do know Frankie. You know him better than almost anyone. You know what his voice sounds like during all the highs and lows, what it sounds like when he cried after his mom died, what it sounds like when he told you he got accepted into pilots training, and what it sounded like when he was drunk and whispered he loved you at 3 am.

“What’s wrong?” you pull back, holding yourself at arm’s length from him.

His mouth opens, the words right at the edge of his lips, but then they close again before he shakes his head, “nothing… let’s just enjoy this. Ok?”

So you do… you surf and swim and enjoy the morning with the guys. The warmth of the sun caresses your skin, soaking into your bones to warm you from the ocean. There’s a moment when you’re out on the water, the waves reflecting like glass and you let yourself enjoy the way it casts its light off Frankie’s long hair, bringing out the specks of gold and grey in his messy sea-soaked hair.

You love this - being out here with all of them. Your brother is the only real family either of you have. Your parents died when you were younger and when you were old enough to take care of yourself, Santiago enlisted and gained a new family. Brothers in arms.

You try not to think about the worry in his voice from that morning, doubt creeping in as the day went on. This was a rare occasion that all the guys could get together like this and usually when they did, it was before a big mission out of the country. Your heart sinks, realizing what this could possibly mean. Santi wouldn’t have told you, knowing that he wouldn’t have wanted to ruin the day. But Frankie? He told you everything. What held him back from telling you something as important as this?

“Here, you look like you could use this,” Frankie dumps himself down beside you in the sand, handing you a cold beer. You glance up at him, grateful for the drink, and bring the cold bottle to your lips, taking a long pull before swallowing.

“Thanks, it’s perfect,” you smile, leaning back on one hand and bracing the bottle on your thigh.

“Did you have fun today?” Frankie asked, taking a drink from his own bottle.

“Yeah, it really was the perfect day. Perfect weather too. Got some great waves out there,” you looked out to the water crashing up on the shore and watched as the sun splattered a watercolor of incredible colors throughout the sky.

“I think Santi is setting up the bonfire if you’re planning on stickin’ around,” he nudged your shoulder with his own.

“Yeah of course… he was my ride anyways,” you take another sip, enjoying the familiar feeling the hops gave you on an empty stomach. Knowing where that leads though, you look at Frankie and tell him “we should probably get some food in us soon.”

“I had a feeling you’d be hungry,” he reached behind him into a small cooler and pulled out two sandwiches. Chicken for himself and peanut butter and jelly with a side of Doritos, just like you liked. “Made ‘em special, just for us,” he joked.

A smile crept over your lips as you grabbed the sandwich baggie, pushing your beer in the sand as you ripped the bags open. He watched in disgust as you opened your sandwich and plop the Doritos on the PB&J, closing it and taking a massive bite.

“Dmon’t knmock mit ummil yoo twy it” you say around your food, knowing damn well he didn’t understand a single thing you said.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” he nodded, brows furrowed with amusement as he took his own bite.

You guys laugh and talk around your food and drinks, the effects of everything making you warm and at peace. Frankie is one of those people that you feel so at home with, not that your brother isn’t one of those, but Santi isn’t someone that you’d call at 2 am to come and get you when you’ve had too much to drink. He would just scold you the whole way home while Frankie - well Frankie would let you rest your head in his lap and would rub your head the entire way home, soft fingers tucking your hair behind your ear as you drift off to sleep from the lull of the engine.

And the only reason you know this is because he’s done it on several occasions for you. In college, shit even in high school. He protected you from Santiago when he found out you had your first boyfriend, although he did give you an interrogation of his own privately afterward. He was there for you through your first heartbreak. He taught you how to shoot your first gun… and your second.

When he turned to you, the haze of the drunkenness between the two of you, and blurted out that they were leaving again, despite being under the impression that they wouldn’t ever have to go again being so close to the end of their contracts, you were of course heartbroken. This was someone that was so much more to you than your brother’s best friend. He had become such a pertinent part of your life. You hadn’t mentally prepared yourself for that news.

You looked back over your shoulder at Santiago, Will, Ben, and Tom, laughing and talking around the fire while you and Frankie sat off to the side. The casualness between them all as they joked between each other, not fearing one last deployment. Your heart squeezed for them. They had each other, bound together by something so strong, something you’d never fully understand.

“Take a walk with me?” his voice pulled you from your thoughts and you see Frankie next to you, hand stretched down to help you up.

“Sure,” you take it, dusting the sand off yourself and grabbing another beer for the walk.

You walk until you can barely see the fire in the distance, the night becoming so dark all you can see is each other at your sides under the blanket of stars.

He whispers your name, taking your hand and pulling you to a stop, “I can’t leave this time without saying anything… I have to…” his words get caught in his throat.

You know what he wants to say, the words he needs to say because you’ve been feeling them for as long as you can remember, “Frankie…” his name comes out as a whisper.

You’re inches from each other, breath mingling together between you as he leans in, his eyes searching for the permission that he didn’t need to ask for. He already owned you, heart and soul, he just didn’t know it yet. This man would always own you, no matter what he did, no matter where he went.

You close the space, your lips gently brushing against his. Softly at first, but as his hands come up to frame your face, the passion that ignites behind him explodes. His mouth parts, yours following his lead as you allow him to explore your mouth. God this man knows how to kiss. It’s incredible, unlike anything you could’ve ever dreamt. Your hands move to his neck, pulling him in closer as his tangle in your hair.

“God, you’re so perfect…” he whispers against your lips. His mouth moves down your jaw, kissing and nipping its way down your throat. Your fingers find their way in his hair, playing with the soft curls at the base of his neck. A moan escapes your lips as his teeth graze your skin softly.

“Wait,” he pulls back, attempting to catch his breath, “I want to do this right. Not on the beach like some cheap date,” he half laughs, looking down at his tented pants and groaning, clearly regretting stopping.

“We don’t have to stop…” you suggest.

“No, I don’t want it to be like this for our first…” he pauses, “I want it to be,” his cheeks almost, blush? “I want it to be right… to be perfect.”

The sincerity in his voice carries to his eyes and you can tell he means it. He wants to love you right, the way you deserve. Not in the dirt or in the sand, but in a soft bed with fresh sheets and plush pillows. He wants to be able to wrap you in blankets after and hold you until the morning sun comes through the curtains and shines down on your freshly fucked skin. He wants to wake up next to you and see your hair splayed against his pillows.

The thought makes you smile, and you nod, knowing this is the start of something absolutely incredible. Something you never thought possible…

Columbia - Frankie

“God I fucking hate the goddamn jungle,” Benny slapped a mosquito on his neck, wiping away the blood on his hand on his shirt, “Fuckin’ gross.”

“Would you shut the fuck up Benny and keep your eye on your spot?” Ironhead said over his com, “this is supposed to be recon, not a fuckin’ vacation.”

Pope rolled his eyes at them, anxious to get eyes on Lorea, but more importantly, anxious to get eyes on you. He had told the guys exactly what they needed them to know, which was almost nothing about why they were actually in Colombia. Specifically leaving out the very important detail that you were the reason why he had gathered up the troops, paid them each $17,000 out of his own personal checking account, and practically begged them to come down under false pretenses of the Agency needing them for a recce mission on Lorea.

He didn’t even need to beg them, they all had packed their bags willingly and flown over the border into Columbia to gather intel on Lorea. Pope had shown them around the area and talked up a big game about how the narcos were causing all these problems and Lorea needed to be dealt with.

Technically, the recon wasn’t a complete lie. He had been down here for over three years, running himself in circles around the cops and narcos on Lorea’s payroll trying to find a bullshit way to get to him. He’d tried everything and at the end of the day, everything isn’t enough when it comes to this guy. He had his hand in every single nook of this god-forsaken country.

He had a girl on the inside, someone who ran money for Lorea and had offered to give up the location in exchange for her brother’s safe return from jail. Admittedly, she may not have given him this information if he had not been sleeping with Pope, but no one could blame her. He’d had it with this fucking country and at this point, there were no more rules to break. Sleeping with an informant was the least of his worries, especially now that he knew that you were somewhere in the house he was staking out.

Tom turned to Pope, “so you sleeping with her?” He took a piece of gum and shoved it in his mouth, offering one to Pope.

Santiago turned to him and scoffed, “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he grabbed the gum and unwrapped it, shoving it in his mouth, “ew man, what the fuck is this shit?”

Tom laughed, “Cola flavored.”

“You owe me a piece of Hubba Bubba dude,” he said, spitting the gum out along with a huge wad of spit. He took his canteen and swished his mouth out as Tom laughed at him.

Back in the day on missions, they had this unspoken rule, someone always has to bring gum. It was like a good luck charm. And Tom, being the leader, always brought the flavor he wanted, never the one that everyone else liked. Fucking asshole. You don’t fuck with tradition…

“I’m at the gate,” Benny’s voice cuts through their ears.

“How’s it looking over there,” Pope responds, holding his binoculars up to take a look from his vantage point.

“Well, looks like things were done about 82% right… They got all the toys out here but these cameras aren’t even aimed at the weakest breach point…” Benny reports.

“Your girlfriend making her normal money drop?” Tom asks

Santiago glares at him, “she ain’t my girlfriend.”

“Informant, whatever…”

“Yeah, she said she’s prepared to record the inside of the house. We need proof of Lorea and the money,” Pope sighs.

Frankie’s voice cuts in, “Hey, uh Pope, I got kids over here. Does he have kids living in here with him? Because that is not what I signed up for.”

“The family is not the problem fish, they are the answer,” Pope says. “Lorea’s very devout… sends his entire crew with his family every Sunday morning. Leaves him, and three guards home alone… every. Sunday.”

Miller pipes up, “why would he do that?”

“Well, he’s worried about someone taking his kids. That and he never leaves his money. Also I don’t think he believes anyone actually has the balls to come out here in the middle of the fuckin’ jungle and rob him,” to this, everyone laughs.

“Look alive guys, we got incoming,” Miller said over the comlink as a van approached.

“Shit Pope, you didn’t tell me your girlfriend was beautiful,” Benny says over the com.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Tom turns to Pope and shakes his head.

“Fuck off.”

They watch her pull through the front gate, van bouncing through the mud and muck. Gunshots echo out in the distance and Ironhead comes over the com, “I got an execution going down over here guys.”

“Courtyard?” Pope asked.

“Yep… looks like mostly men and two women judging on the builds, can’t see any faces though,” Ironhead responds.

“Fuck…” Pope whispers, “uh, yeah that’s his spot,” his voice tightened.

Screams echoed throughout the coms from Ironhead’s mic, “shit guys, he’s taking some girl into the house… I -” his voice cuts out, clearly unable to watch anymore.

The screams could be heard even without the coms, Pope knowing exactly who it belonged to. He’d heard every sound you could make, screams, crying, laughter. He was your brother and helped raise you, he may have needed confirmation you were in there but in his gut, he already knew.

No one else would be able to see the way his heart rate had quickened, hoping that you weren’t in that group of people, now lying dead on the court. As the last gunshots echoed out throughout the jungle, and your screaming stopped, Pope did something he hadn’t done in a very long time… he prayed.

[bunnyywritings]

a birthday wish

tenya iida x gn!reader

[a/n: so I got home later than I thought I would and it was a bit of a rough day but here’s a little something for class rep on his birthday, hehe I’m a complete mess when it comes to this boy right here🥺...like I don’t understand how he’s not everyone’s favorite but I guess not everyone has taste ✨✨ anyways, I gave reader wings as their quirk, enjoy! -yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´- ]

Work studies were going great so far. You were doing yours under Keigo Takami aka Hawks. He helped you with training that focused on strengthening your wings and using them in combat.

You flinched as the earpiece crackled to life, “That’s enough for now (y/n), let’s go on patrol.” You made your way down to where he was standing on the rooftop, a groan leaving your lips once your wings ceased their flapping. This caused Hawks to chuckle, “Tired?”

“No.” You scoffed at his teasing. “Not at all.” That was a big fat lie, your wings were sore. Every time you took a step, it jostled them painfully. However, you pushed the pain to the back of your mind and went on the patrol as scheduled.

Back at the dorms, everyone was gathered in the common room, trying to relax after a day full of classes and pop quizzes. Denki was flipping through the channels when a familiar face made him stop and turn up the volume.

“Woah! Guys check it out! It’s (y/n)!” The call of your name caught Iida’s attention, he grabbed his mug and made his way towards the couches. A smile on his face as he saw you on the tv, your dazzling grin on display for everyone to see as you were on patrol. He felt his heart beat a little faster at the sight of you. He was a bit somber at the fact that you wouldn’t be there for his birthday.

He’d want nothing more than to be able to cuddle you to his hearts content and sleep with you in his arms, sure it was against to rules but when it came to you, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Plus, the thought of waking up to you in his arms on his birthday was probably one of the best gifts he could receive. Especially after not seeing you for a whole week. He fished his phone from his pocket and took a quick picture of your guys’ classmates gushing over you.

To: my darling angel ♡

‘You look absolutely dazzling on the big screen darling and it seems that everyone thinks so too.’

You ignored the buzz in your pocket, you knew it was a text but taking your phone out on a patrol wouldn’t really be the smartest idea, so you continued on. Stopping for photos and autographs before you were back in the agency office and having lunch.

“So? Did you consider my offer?” Hawks asked as he popped a nugget in his mouth.

“Well I did, and after speaking about it with a-uh a friend...” Keigo definitely caught onto the blush that made its way to your cheeks. “and once I graduate, I’d love to sign with your agency.” A triumphant grin split his lips.

“That’s great!” His grin turned into a mischievous smirk. “And who’s this friend of yours?” He wiggled his eyebrows as your cheeks turned a bright red.

“He uhm, his name is T-Tenya Iida.” You avoided his gaze.

“Tenya? Wait- he’s Ingenium’s brother?” You nodded sheepishly. “Is he your boyfriend?~”

A laugh rumbled in his chest as he saw your wings ruffle and puff up. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Then you remembered that he had texted you a while ago so you grabbed your phone and unlocked it, heart fluttering so loud you could hear it in your ears.

“Uh hey lovebird...” his call broke you out of your trance, that’s when you realized that the fluttering you heard wasn’t your heart seeing as you were a few feet above your chair. Embarassed, you fluttered back down until your butt was back in the chair.

“S-Sorry...”

You finished your lunch and helped with some paperwork since it was a rather uneventful day. You were exhausted but being in the city for an entire week was an amazing experience.

“Hey uh how would you like to get home early?” His offer made your eyes widen.

“Wait...really?”

He shrugged, “Yeah, of course. You can just finish your work study next week. I’ll email Aizawa the paperwork in the morning. You should get back to that boyfriend of yours. It’s his birthday today.” You were even more shocked, how did he-?

“Am I right? You said something about some boy’s birthday earlier this week.”

“I-well yeah, you’re right.”

So you showered in the locker room as he readied the paper work and he accompanied you to the station.

“Well, little one...it’s time to go back to your dorm life.” He chuckled sadly, ruffling your hair.

You dropped your duffle bag on the ground and wrapped your arms around the blonde “Thank you Takami...I really appreciate it.” He smiled and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Don’t get all sappy on me kid and plus...two years goes by like nothing.” He gave you a little squeeze before pulling away. “You’ll probably be way more powerful than me by then anyways.”

After a tearful goodbye at the train terminal, you boarded on the 3 hour ride back to Musutafu.

You leaned back in your seat and tried to catch a small nap. You were shaken awake by another passenger, she gently called out to you until your eyes were open and she kindly let you know that you were at your stop.

Slightly embarrassed, you thanked her profusely before climbing out and making your way out of the car. You pulled out your phone and called a few of your classmates to try and keep your arrival a surprise. Midoriya and Shoto had convinced Iida to go on a run with them. And Sato had gotten started on baking a cake. They had known it was Iida’s birthday but he had made it very clear that he didn’t want anything too wild but that wasn’t gonna fly with you.

Once you arrived, everyone greeted you excitedly but kept the questions down as they helped you set up and whatnot.

When the boys had sent you a text that they were a few minutes away, you went and hid.

“You guys? What is this? I thought I said not to waste time on a party.” Iida gently reprimanded his classmates.

“Well maybe this will change your mind...” Mina giggled and that was your cue. You stepped out from around the corner.

“Surprise!!” You held your arms out and there was a grin on your lips.

Everyone watched with warm hearts as Iida’s eyes widened and slightly glossed over before he sped over to you and enveloped you in his arms, lifting you up and spinning you around before he let you back down onto the ground and held your jaw in his hands and brought you into a deep yet sweet kiss. The action surprised you but you melted into it and moved your lips against his.

“Eww! Get a room!” Denki jokingly groaned.

“Trust me, we will.” Iida’s deep voice rumbled quietly in you ear.

Your cleared your throat and pulled away, face flushed. “O-okay, well uh now that I’m here let’s eat some cake!” Sato brought out a beautifully made cake and placed some candles on it. You watched with a smile as Iida enjoyed the singing from his classmates and the cheers as he was blowing out the candles. As much as he said he didn’t want a party, he sure was enjoying himself.

He opened a few presents, thanking everyone but also scolding(?) them for spending money on impractical things but once the night died down, he thanked everyone once more but insisted that they all get to sleep at a reasonable hour. While he took a shower, you took the time to ready his presents. They weren’t anything too special but you had hoped that they were enough. Sighing, your tried to fight off sleep but it felt like your eyelids weighed tons, and sleep was tugging at your subconscious but you stayed awake because you wanted to have some much needed cuddles with the birthday boy. Not really caring about whether you’d get caught or not.

As Iida made his way into his room, he was filled with a fuzzy warmth that was only caused by you. The way you sleepily watched him move about the room, the way you looked in his t-shirt.

“Now, it’s finally time for your gifts.” You grinned, holding out a box for him.

Playfully rolling his eyes, he took the box from your hands and sat beside you on the bed. With tentative fingers, he carefully unwrapped the box and pulled open the lid. He froze. It was a pair of shoes that he had been wanting for training but they were seemingly sold out everywhere, even with the money that he had, he couldn’t get them.

“How did you-?” He looked at you with wide eyes, the butterflies he got from your lazy grin made him want to pin you down and smother you in kisses.

“Don’t worry about it.” You coyly shrugged and before he could ask once more, you held a little gift bag out to him. Your triumphant expression turning sheepish. “This isn’t anything special really b-but I just thought you’d like to have it.”

He took it and pulled out the colorful tissue paper, and there was a long, rectangular box in it. Pulling it out, he opened the box. Inside was a shiny silver chain necklace with a white gold feather hanging from it, his and your initials ingraved on it.

The silence was killing you.

“I-It’s okay if you don’t like it! I-well I just thought that-“

He could tell it was expensive, he had seen expensive jewelry before and this definitely could easily be something that his mother or father would have in their drawer.

“I love it...it’s gorgeous.” The feather reminded him of your wings. “But, please don’t tell me that you wasted your money on me like this?” He was conflicted because he was grateful but he didn’t like the idea of you spending a pretty penny on him.

“Okay! Then I won’t, it could never be a waste when it comes to you because I...I love you Tenya. So much.” When he didn’t respond, you sighed and stood up and stood in between his thigh and cupped his cheeks in your hands. “Please don’t worry about it, this is something that I wanted to get you. You spoil me all the time and I wanted to spoil you, even if it was just for a bit. You deserve the work Tenya.” He looked up into your eyes as you ran your a hand through his damp hair. “You’ve had so much on your shoulders. Taking Ingenium’s name for yourself, trying to live up to Tensei’s name, being class rep...you don’t give yourself enough credit. You deserve being spoiled, you deserve being loved...” you leaned down and pressed your forehead against his. “You deserve to feel special. You are so powerful sweetheart, I’m proud of you. That may not mean much but-“ you were cut off when he pressed his lips to yours. His hands gripping your hips as you smiled into the kiss.

“I love you too darling, very much.” You nuzzled your nose against his.

“Now let’s get to bed! I’m exhausted.” He chuckled, laying in bed and pulling you to lay on his chest to not apply uncomfortable pressure to your wings. He wound his arms tightly around you as you snuggled into his warmth.

“Happy birthday tenya...” you lazily placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“A very happy one indeed, I’ve got the best gift right here in my arms.” His grin was slightly lopsided as he blindly pressed kisses all over your face. “Now go to sleep, you’ve had a long week.” He muttered as he closed his eyes and snuggling closer to you. His warmth made your eyes finally shut, a small sigh leaving your lips as he ran a hand through your hair and lightly ran his fingers across your scalp. You finally gave into the pull of deep sleep.

His wish was granted. You were in his arms and that’s all that could matter to him.

[witnessourescape]

On Omega's "failed messiah" symbolism

How can the murderer robot from outer space be something like a Messiah?

In this post, I'll take a look at Omega's design, Omega's themes and Omega's battles.

1. On Omega's designs:

First we must understand that FFXIV Omega's designs are full of angelic/divine symbolism, but it isn't something we normally see in-game as we're too worried about larboard/starboard to pay attention. They feature feathers and wings everywhere. I'll put some examples here.

(Look at the Ω on that forehead!)

The best, greatest design is Final Omega.

With its six arms and upper half that looks like a seated person, it reminds me of Avalokiteśvara, the Thousand-Armed and Thousand-Eyed Bodhisattva of mercy.

Final Omega features a three-part halo that unites to "download" its body, like the christian Holy Trinity that's both three persons and one person at the same time.

How can a being like Final Omega signify salvation?

Just look at how many robed hands are trying to climb its body! I love that tiny little hand under its chin :) It's something that we couldn't see normally but messing with the models allows us to.

So we have Beetle Form that is elegant, full of silver and black feathers; Omega-M and Omega-F feature feathers and wings on their designs, and Final Omega itself is a legit bodhisattva, almost drowning in the sea of people trying to climb it to safety. Final Omega's face has some kind of shellshock expression -- a thousand-yard stare in a serious face. It has seen a lot of suffering and it is swimming in a sea of suffering.

2. On Omega's musical themes:

I've talked about From the Heavens in a previous post. I'll do it again here, but first I want to say that the expression "from the heavens" can both mean "Omega crashing onto Hydaelyn" and "Jesus' Second Coming", which isn't a stretch because Omega declares its Second Coming in-game. I'll get to that soon.

First, we got From the Heavens:

Our shadows lost in light, this life A fleeting kiss Hark! Temptation rings! Virtue slips through hands a-clenching wicked fruit Passion festers, black’ning sinless souls to root Sink’neath dark waters Drink deep, we suffer Drowning, drowning, drowning, drowning Irons sundered Paradise plundered Come welcome this Come welcome this Destiny Virtue slips through hands a-clenching wicked fruit Passion festers, black’ning sinless souls to root Sickles grate on heaven’s gate their fields ignored Seeking sinners deathlessly they reap discord As two become one Here ends this, our journey Never-ending, onward march! Witness our escape This our escape, this our escape This our escape, this our escape This our escape, this our ascension

Which is clearly a description of a Calamity related to hubris, the "blackening of souls", sin, temptation, and so on. The people singing it attain ascension in the very end, eScaping from the calamity. Who are those people? Those shadowless people that lost their shadows in the light?

The most interesting part is that it's sung in first person plural, ends with an ascension, and then comes eScape, which is sung in first person singular:

A drifting tender Come ride, heroes, ride Her galleon severed Away with the tide The stormheads gather Come ride, heroes, ride Illusions scattered Away with the tide Why Do weathered warriors wander their way whither wanting wonders wait Hark the heralds, anchors aweigh! Hither happens mine escape Freedom forgone, sinking apace. Comets crumble, Phoebus fades Under cosmic clamor decayed, hides a path untaken Ancient echoes Come ride, heroes, ride In deafening silence Away with the tide A wave of hazard Come ride, heroes, ride A-whorling inward Away with the tide Time Stellar stories starward bestrewn, slipping sidewise, see, they're snakes Twixt the leaves you'll find naught amiss—missing aughts and crossing fates Freedom surgent shifting ahead, comets dancing in her wake To the cosmic clarion's accord, along the path not taken Try, dare the dead tread ahead on a road that is borrowed design, Through the sum of their sons do they seek tomorrow Tonight, witness then as the end shall begin what was final Their lies, folding back, further back, ever back to the primal

Most of it is Omega's -- the people who ascended in the end of From the Heavens? -- escaping from a calamity. The "mine escape" means it's Omega itself singing it. The last part takes a break from describing the escape and turns to tell about how the calamity was felt: the dead walking ahead on a road that is borrowed -- not theirs --, seeking "tomorrow" through their descendants.

The end begins what is final: the cycle of birth and destruction and the Alpha and the Omega.

Their lies -- whose lies? -- fold back to the beginning. Could it be the ones that also lied in Invincible?

Lasciate Ogne speranza These memories ache with the weight of fate Ever we fight Never we fly Ever we fall Forever we fall Now breathe deep of the darkness beneath the flood Where all of the proud angels drink to their deeds of blood Their lies, twisted and torn, into dreams they're spun Yet ever we still stand tall Invincible Never we fall

Now that we've seen that Omega is an angelic being/bodhisattva with a backstory of Calamities and of having failed to protect its people, let's go to what it says through its fights.

3. On Omega's battles

The arena for Alphascape 4.0 is called Creation, Omega does a Genesis imitation where it becomes man and woman from another one's image instead of creating them from its own image -- while constantly creating life during the raid series --, and Alphascape 3.0 (Savage) got some surreal name attacks such as MRV Missile Kyrios, Long Needle Kyrios, Wave Cannon Kyrios, Condensed Wave Canon Kyrios and Guided Missile Kyrios, all while in Pantokrator Mode.

Wikipedia: Kyrios appears about 700 times in the New Testament, usually referring to Jesus. Wikipedia: In Christian iconography, Christ Pantocrator (Greek: Χριστὸς Παντοκράτωρ)[1] is a specific depiction of Christ. Pantocrator or Pantokrator, usually translated as "Almighty" or "all-powerful", is derived from one of many names of God in Judaism.

In Alphascape 4.0 Savage, when it changes phases, Omega goes:

Omega: Experiment concluded. I am the Alpha. I am the Omega. Wikipedia: Alpha (Α or α) and omega (Ω or ω) are the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet, and a title of Christ and God in the Book of Revelation. Book of Revelation 22:13: I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.

Omega's enrage in Alphascape 4.0 Savage is:

Omega: <blip> <bleeeeeep> Witness...my coming... I bring...reward...and retribution...for all! Book of Revelation 22:12: Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done.

The text in Japanese makes it even clearer that Omega is quoting the Book of Revelation:

A Japanese translation for Rev 22:13 and 22:13: 見よ、わたしはすぐに来る。報いを携えて来て、それぞれの行いに応じて報いる。わたしはアルファであり、オメガである。 Romaji: Mite yo, watashi wa sugu ni kuru. Mukui wo tazusaete kite, sorezore no okonai ni ōjite mukuiru. Watashi wa arufa de ari, omega de aru. Japanese text: ワタシはアルファであり、オメガである！/ ガガ……ガガガガガガ……見よ、ワタシはすぐに来る……！報いを……携え……それぞれに……報いを……！ Romaji: Watashi wa arufa de ari, omega de aru! / Gaga… gagagagaga… Mite yo, watashi wa sugu ni kiru! Mukui wo… tazusae… sorezore ni… mukui wo…! Direct translation: I am the Alpha and the Omega! / Gaga… gagagagaga… Behold, I come quickly! Rewards (direct object)… I bring… To all… Rewards (direct object)…! My translation: I am the Alpha and the Omega! / <blip><bleep>… And, behold, I come quickly! … And my reward… to give every man… shall be…! Official text: I am the Alpha. I am the Omega. <blip><bleeeeeep>Witness…my coming… I bring…reward…and retribution… for all!

Why is Omega literally Christ in the XIV universe, then?

If you look at my previous post, I theorize Omega was created to halt the Apocalypse. In a way, Omega sounds like a failed mechanic messiah: created as hope for its people, it failed to save them from not one but two calamities -- the Final Days themselves and the Sundering -- and ended up not even dying with them, but being one of the four survivors along with the three Unsundered: Elidibus, Emet-Selch and Lahabrea. Christ died for the sins of all humanity, came back to life, ascended to the heavens and made his second coming from the heavens; Omega at first ascended in a weird way -- two or more people becoming Omega, maybe, like sacrifices were required to summon Zodiark and Hydaelyn? --, and then did not die, and made its second coming for nothing, saving no one.

Or did it die in a way?

Why does Omega first appears before you as a rusty, old Level Checker? Like it was underwater for some time -- drowning, drowning, drowning, drowning; drink deep of the darkness beneath the flood --, like the First's Amaurot...?

Thanks for reading! :)

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Love the story but will we ever know why Jamie was in prison? Ten years is a very long time so it must have been serious yet everyone is so forgiving, so understanding and very accepting of a man who was incarcerated for such a long time. I’m not sure I could trust him so quickly.

anonymous asked: Still wondering, why was Jamie in prison? Long sentence must mean serious crime. Just curious.

—

It Does My Heart Good: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14

Claire reached across the table to squeeze her husband’s hand. “I’ll wash up. You two - why don’t you sit on the back porch? It’s so nice outside - we haven’t really taken advantage of it yet.”

Brianna raised a ruddy eyebrow at her father. “Do you still have that bottle of Oban I gave you as a housewarming gift?”

Jamie snorted. “Of course, lass - did ye think yer mam and I had drank the whole thing already? It’s just been the two months!”

“You’ve gotten so much done already - how was I supposed to know?” Brianna pushed her chair back from the table. “I’ll get us set up. See you there?”

As his daughter breezed by, Jamie stood and gathered the three dinner plates. Claire’s hand gently touched his elbow, and he looked over at her.

Smiling. Always smiling.

“Go. Use the nice tumblers. Something’s eating at her - maybe you can find out what it is?”

He leaned over for a kiss. “I’ll just listen. I’m good at that, aye?”

She kissed him again. “Aye. Now go.”

He found Brianna curled up on one side of the bench he’d set up at the corner of the porch. Watching the late summer sunset.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

She looked up at him, and gratefully took the tumbler of whisky as he sat beside her. “It is. You two really lucked out with this place.”

Softly he clinked his glass against hers. “I’ve really lucked out wi’ a lot of things this past year, Brianna. Had ye told me a year ago that I’d be here, wi’ you - marrit to yer Mam, and stateside, weel...”

“Do you miss it?” She swirled the whisky, inhaling deeply.

“What? My empty life in Glasgow, and the blokes I unloaded trucks with?”

She pursed her lips. Not looking at him.

Patiently he waited.

“I’ve thought long and hard about the best way to ask you this - but there’s not a good way, and there will never be a good time.” She sighed.

He stiffened. “What is it you wish to know?”

She took a sip of the Oban. “Why were you in prison? Ten years is a really long time.”

He knew this day would come, of course. He had told Claire everything, their first night back together, in her old bedroom at Lamb and Fez’s home. Prepared for criticism...he had experienced only understanding, and forgiveness.

He sighed.

“Aggravated larceny.”

“Ten years for that?”

“I was twenty-four years old. Had lost your Mam, and both of my parents. I was very, very angry, Brianna.” He sipped his whisky, watching the sun sink behind the trees. “I fell in wi’ a very rough crowd. Burglars. Mostly petty things. But this one man, he kept talking about a ‘big score.’“

“Me and two other men, we broke into a warehouse. The two of them meant to re-sell the stolen goods - I was just along for the ride.” He pursed his lips. “Vitamin supplements. Very easy to re-sell. We just didn’t count on there being a security guard there.”

Brianna sat as stiff and still as a board beside him.

“I tied him up as the others made off with boxes and boxes of vitamins.  We had another man driving the get-away truck. I had a gun, but the guard knew I wouldnae hurt him.”

The man hadn’t even been scared. Had stared him down. Challenging.

“The plan was that I’d be the first back to the truck - to sit up front with the driver. And the two others would follow - pack up the truck and sit wi’ the merchandise in the back. All went according to plan. We were in and out in less than an hour.”

“How did you get caught?”

“Charles Stuart always was an idiot. And that night proved it - because on the way out, he hit the guard very hard in the back of his head. The man nearly died, but he called for help. We didnae even make it to the drop-off point before we were arrested.”

“Ten years sounds like a harsh sentence for vitamins. Especially when you didn’t actually steal anything.”

Jamie shrugged. “The lads made off with several hundred thousand pounds worth of vitamins. The value of that brought the charge up to ‘aggravated.’ And then they nearly killed the security guard.”

“But you didn’t do any of that.”

“But I was there, Brianna. I helped them commit the crime. And I had already been arrested a few times - so they went harsh on me.”

She nodded. Processing. 

“I’m not ashamed of you, you know. Knowing this about you - it doesn’t change anything.”

He set down his tumbler and tentatively reached across the bench to squeeze her hand. “Ye have no idea how much it means to me, to hear you say that. It’s all in the past - I’m no’ that man anymore. It proves that I wasnae fit to raise you as a wee bairn, even if you and yer Mam had been in Scotland.” He turned to face her, eyes blazing. “It may sound strange, but prison changed my life for the better. It gave me the strength to stand up for myself, and to never allow myself to ever get wrapped up in other people’s problems anymore.”

She squeezed his hand in return. “I know. It’s one of the many things I admire about you. It gave you the courage to respond to my letter, didn’t it?”

He nodded. “I wish, so much, that you and me and your Mam could have been together all of these years. But I wasnae ready to be a da. Not then. But I am now, Brianna. I owe that to you.”

She blinked back tears. “You don’t owe me anything. Ever. And thank you for telling me.”

“Well, you asked,” he teased. “Claire and I - we promised honesty to each other, always. I vow the same to you.”

“Then let me tell you something honest, and true. I’m proud you’re my father.”

His tears shone in the twilight, and he crushed her to him. So grateful for second chances.

[maticide666]

my eurovision top 39 songs (finally)

anyway i finally got my top 39 completed. under a read more because it can get kinda long with the commentary i added klfdja;sflk (and by that i mean VERY long, maybe a wall of text if i have a lot to say about the song.)

none of this takes rehearsals into account.

basically, 39-37 i don't like, 36-35 are meh, 34-25 are decent, 24-18 are good, 17-12 i enjoy listening to a lot, 11-4 i love, and I would pay for votes for top 3 if i could.

39. Azerbaijan - Efendi - Mata Hari - Honestly, I kinda want to like this song. The instrumentation is nice, especially with the Azeri instruments. Efendi's vocals are ok during the verses. However, her vocals during the MA-MA-MA-MATA HARI part makes this song utterly unlistenable for me. It is just so distracting and ear-grating. Not great for my sensitive ears. And that is without taking anything else into account.

38. Estonia - Uku Suviste - The Lucky One - For some reason reminds me of a boring modern country song. Bland af. At least the melody of the chorus is nice.

37. Cyprus - Elena Tsagrinou - El Diablo - Discount Lady Gaga at the best points of this song. Feels like three songs at once. Also, the lyrics seem like they just went all "What Spanish-sounding words sound spicy? Taco? Tamale? Mamacita?" As a Spanish speaker and as someone of Mexican descent who enjoys those foods, this annoys the living shit out of me. At least I can make El Diablo/Fallen Angel memes out of this. (Honestly, I don't mind the gratuitous Spanish with the words El Diablo.) Also, this song got real old real quick.

36. Slovenia - Ana Soklič - Amen - The gospel vibe is nice, but there is just too much Christianity in it for me to enjoy this song. Sorry, Ana.

35. Moldova - Natalia Gordienko - Sugar - Sounds like a sugary version of Siren Song by MARUV. Kinda boring, but enjoyable in the right circumstances.

34. Georgia - Tornike Kipiani - You - Good to listen to when mind feels blank. At first I kinda liked this song, but nowadays this song has lost its charm. This won't sound out of place alongside boring 70s slow classic rock songs.

33. Austria - Vincent Bueno - Amen - Not something I would listen to regularly, but still nice. For me, easily the biggest downgrade from 2020.

32. Greece - Stefania - Last Dance - Pleasant to listen to, not much else.

31. Portugal - The Black Mamba - Love Is On My Side - Good song, but not my cup of tea. Unfortunately, some great songs have to be near the bottom of my ranking.

30. Germany - Jendrik - I Don't Feel Hate - A fun song to listen to. The novelty wears off after a while. The feel good vibes and ukulele are nice.

29. Israel - Eden Alene - Set Me Free - the song release version was bland and boring, but the revamp. Now THAT is good stuff. The song doesn't seem so empty anymore. I miss the key change from the original, though.

28. Spain - Blas Cantó - Voy A Quedarme - A very emotional and beautiful song from Spain. Again, not usually my cup of tea. However, the melody somehow gives me a nostalgic vibe.

27. North Macedonia - Vasil - Here I Stand - DAMN Vasil has a lovely voice. Nice that he's showing it off here. Too slow of a song for me to enjoy regularly, though.

26. Albania - Anxhela Peristeri - Karma - I don't have much to say other than this song is nice.

25. Bulgaria - VICTORIA - Growing Up Is Getting Old - Pleasant to listen to, but depending on my mood I think this is a beautiful song but not my cup of tea or a complete snoozefest.

24. Serbia - Hurricane - Loco Loco - Fun song, but it feels like something is lacking, and I can't quite put my finger on it.

23. San Marino - Senhit - Adrenalina - Once the initial hype from Flo Rida being on the song died down, this became another typical Eurovision bop.

22. Sweden - Tusse - Voices - At first I thought the song was completely unremarkable and couldn't understand how this won Melodifestivalen. Nowadays it's a nice song to chill to. I gotta respect a perfect televote score from the national final.

21. Ireland - Lesley Roy - MAPS - nice.

20. Croatia - Albina - Tick Tock - Grew on me slightly. Shoutout for including a verse in Croatian.

19. Switzerland - Gjon's Tears - Tout l'Univers - Another grower for me. Doesn't hit as hard as his song from last year, but I dig it.

18. France - Barbara Pravi - Voilà - Lovely chanson right here. I wish it didn't take forever to pick up, though. I was about to completely give up on this song in the middle of my first listen. I'm glad I didn't.

17. Belgium - Hooverphonic - The Wrong Place - Classy. Not much else to say.

16. Ukraine - Go-A - Shum - I'd definitely go rave to this song. I kept finding this song hard to rank due to the white voice. I couldn't decide if I absolutely adored it or if I found it grating. Maybe I just wasn't feeling well when I first thought about it.

15. Lithuania - The Roop - Discoteque - Lots of fun, doesn't have the charm that On Fire had last year. I would dance to this song.

14. Poland - RAFAŁ - The Ride - I actually kinda like this song???? Even with Rafal's vocals??? I know he has political controversies, but I can't help but think this song is nice. A better, less controversial singer would benefit this song, though. I'm not counting the revamp just yet since it was released too recently.

13. Latvia - Samanta Tīna - The Moon Is Rising - This song gives me nostalgic mid to late 2000s hip hop vibes. The guitars in this song are lovely.

12. Romania - ROXEN - Amnesia - Definitely something that can put me in a trance if I'm in the right mood.

11. Czechia - Benny Cristo - omaga - Nice, catchy, I would dance to this.

10. Malta - Destiny - Je Me Casse - Damn, Destiny has a lovely voice! And the song itself is wonderful. I'm not a fan of the amount of Swedish talent being used instead of Maltese talent, but I really do enjoy listening to this.

9. Denmark - Fyr og Flamme - Øve Os På Hinanden - another really fun song! This really grew on me. Nowadays if I want to listen to a Eurovision song, this is one of the first songs I think of.

8. The Netherlands - Jeangu Macrooy - Birth of a New Age - I can vibe with this. You can hear the passion in this song. I wish I could let my body do the talking right now, but y'all can't see that with just a tumblr text post.

7. Russia - Manizha - Russian Woman - I was NOT expecting this to come out of Russia when it won the national final. I wasn't expecting to like this either. The message is great, the instrumental is great, everything about this is brilliant.

6. United Kingdom - James Newman - Embers - A funky song. I LOVE James's voice. Massive upgrade from last year in my opinion. I'm a sucker for brass in an upbeat song. Unfortunately, I have had the staging kinda spoiled and I am VERY skeptical about this coming out of bottom five. I'm done with the BBC.

5. Australia - Montaigne - Technicolour - There is a Lot happening in this song and I am all in for it. I'm kinda terrible at parsing lyrics, but it's a non-issue when I can follow Montaigne's voice and forget about the lyrics. Ironically enough, it's Montaigne's voice that also worries me this Eurovision season - mostly whether she was able to pull off her live on tape performance off.

4. Iceland - Daði og Gagnamagnið - 10 Years - I didn't think Daði could pull it off against this year, but he did it. I like this just a little more than Think About Things, which was my favorite song last year. I'm still a little gutted that this pandemic robbed him of a probable victory, but I've made peace with it. I still need to learn the dance moves, though.

3. Italy - Måneskin - Zitti E Buoni - FUCK YEAH A KICKASS ROCK SONG IN EUROVISION! This song gave me massive rock en español vibes on my fist listen, and honestly this is something I would bang my head to if I had the same body I did when I was 15.

2. Norway - TIX - Fallen Angel - I was not expecting to like this song much, let alone becoming THIS obsessed with TIX. In fact, he wasn't even on my radar for winning MGP. I listened to Ut Av Mørket for the first time and thought something like 'this is boring af, but at least it's in Norwegian'. And then he changed it to English, which I wasn't a fan of at first. And then one day the lyrics clicked - especially with my own struggles with mental illness. To this day this is one of only two Eurovision songs to actually make me cry. Even now he still isn't my MGP winner (that honor goes to JORN), but he has definitely won my heart.

1. Finland - Blind Channel - Dark Side - To say that this song kicks ass would be an understatement for me. This song has just the right mix of rock, pop, and even metal. Ever since I found out that this song would be in the national final, I knew that it would be my favorite this whole Eurovision season regardless of who won UMK. Yes, my jaw dropped when I saw the lead Blind Channel had in UMK. I literally cancelled my plans to watch the MGP final live because of these guys. I am not disappointed. Even Måneskin couldn't bring these guys down in my ranking. And while the lyrics might be a bit iffy, they did get me through rough times. I hope these guys are able to bring rock music back like they want to. But for now, I will give them my (useless tbh) douze points.

[mildly-incoherent-ramblings]

Honey Sticks (Straws? Tubes? What Do You Call Them?)

A distant friend's friend was making care packages for trans people and asked folks on Instagram if they wanted them, so I asked for one. This has been a hard season on me and I thought hey, what the hell, worst case scenario I don't get one and its whatever. Right?

This was months ago, and I forgot almost immediately after doing so. It came today. 

There were lots of things included that made me happy, little gestures of sweetness. Two tea bags, one for sleep and one for relaxation, which I had not had much of either and needed. A sticker of a cute little spider, of whom I have complicated feelings for and have grown to love, though from a distance. Some candies, a lemon-honey cough drop, a very nice card, a note and a patch with an anarchy symbol framed in a heart that I bet will probably fade in 3 or so washes but I will wear anyways. It is after all, the thought that counts. But the gesture that warmed my soul and brought me great joy, was the honey stick. 

I didn’t process the significance at first. There were so many of these little items at once and I was just overwhelmed overall by this small expression of kindness. I thanked the person, followed them, thanked the person who had told them I wanted one and made sure I was following them, and set these things aside for a little while to tend to other things. 

I had a stressful situation involving a kitchen mess that triggered me a little and had just sat down after addressing said stressful situation when my eyes fixed on the little honey stick along with the candy I had been given. I ate the mango hi-chew first and briefly was paranoid it would fill the cavities in my teeth and have me regretting it. 

Then I went for the honey stick. I held it in my hands, rolled it gently between my fingers. I watched the honey move through the tube as I squeezed it in different places and the nostalgia started to set in. I remember long drives to the bay as a child with my grandparents and stopping at this little roadside farm that had produce and preserves and flowers and always, little straws filled with honey and sealed off, what I called as a child and refer to now as honey sticks. 

The texture was familiar, cool plastic between my fingers. I popped the seal gently with my teeth and pushed about half the tube onto my tongue. As soon as it hit my taste buds, I was transported to this place. To where my grandfather was still alive, in my mind, during a time where he and my grandmother were still at least as far as I knew, quite happy. The sweetness and the floral and the acidic and the smooth texture floated in my salivating mouth, as tears welled up in my eyes. I felt it coat the back of my teeth, savored it, before swallowing and squeezing from the tube the rest of its contents. I did not waste a single drop of this wonderful gift. I sat with the sadness and the nostalgia and the longing for some time. And then my eyes fixated on the pamphlet from his memorial service hanging in the corner. I miss the man, for all the problems he came with and all the unanswered questions and unresolved hurt I had felt. Missed that time where I had the privilege of being a child, before I was old enough to understand that though my loved ones loved me indeed, their love would only extend as far as their own perspective’s limitations reached.

The last two times I saw my grandpa sit in my stomach like bricks in a burlap sack. The second to last time, he was moving out of state with his good friend, and the last words he chose to say to me were “I love you, Granddaughter.” I had been out as transmasculine to my family for several years, and he was one of the only members of my family who flat out refused to support my decisions. I told my grandma about how I felt about this several months later, at the time worried this may be the last time I ever saw him. I felt like he did not want to see my transition, and did not want to see the man I would become. As much as I love my grandma, she doesn’t keep a secret worth a shit, so of course she went behind my back and told him everything. She always does. 

The very last time we saw each other, he tried to discuss this event and how it impacted him. By this time I was fully growing into my masculine body, had little pubescent hairs shading my upper lip and a deepened voice. He still adamantly misgendered me, refused to even look at me, the entire time. He simply could not see me. He asked me why I would do this to my family. He asked me why I would make them all suffer seeing me like this, as if my choice to live authentically was harmful to everyone around me. He was also under the distinct impression that our loved ones regarded my choices with the same level of disgust he had. He expressed revulsion and shame for my choices, and wanted to agree to disagree, under the impression still that he could just see me as a woman and ignore all the changes I had made and the life I was living, and how much even the other skeptical members of my family had adjusted since. He did not want another grandson, especially one who was a fag. That car ride brought a lot of tension, and the entire time we spent after with my grandma when we met her for lunch, was plated on a bed of unspoken mutual contempt for one another. He salted an already deep and still fresh wound, and it festered over. It still has not quite healed. 

Ironically, it would be revealed not too long after, that my brother had discovered that grandpa himself was in fact very much a gay man. While he was assisting him with formatting his cell phone, my brother would accidentally stumble on a still open incognito tab with some... very gay content still open. Along with that, a string of messages with his “good friend,” who had apparently been his lover the entire time. My brother responded with compulsory homophobic remarks that I will not repeat, but mostly just frustration that he had been dishonest with my grandma all these years. The discomfort that situation has inspired in me still hasn’t properly been unpacked. Everyone was wrong in that situation. Everyone.

Go figure. He and his good friend, “they were roommates.” 

When he passed, my father came and told me in person. I finally spoke of what had happened between us, and even he was angered by the hypocrisy, saying he had known for years that my grandfather was not straight. I know now that how he treated me was what he did for himself to avoid suspicion. Because if I had the audacity to be out, that meant there was little left for an excuse for him to hide. I threatened his cover. I threatened his disguise. I cracked his mask. I left his closet open ajar and he peered outside, horrified at the possibilities he saw.

Acknowledging all this, even still, I could not help but enjoy this moment of being brought back to this familiar childhood memory, before all of that would happen. This person who sent me this great gift could not have known the significance, but rest assured, I am quite grateful. I enjoyed this moment and then it was gone, and then it was back to reality in front of my computer, staring at the wall. The knowledge that that same man who loved me dearly was also undeniably cruel to me burned my skin and flooded my eyes. Hidden beneath that hurt and sadness, I felt remorse for him, because he never did feel safe speaking his truth to us, not even to the others in our family who related to him. I often think of his lover, and how painful it must have been for this man to mourn him publicly as a good friend, and privately as an intimate partner of whom adored him and cared for him in ways they could not ever feel safe speaking of.

Sitting with this conflict of nostalgia and longing for the safety of my adolescent ignorance, with the truth and the reality as I have come to know it, I let my own mask fall, and cried for the first time in months since he had died. It is possible to both love a person who was once good to you and also acknowledge when their actions created harm, and to hold them accountable. I do not believe it to be disrespect to the dead to also speak of their faults as well as their glory. Joy and sadness and frustration and unanswered questions looked down on me, crowded around me, mocked me.

My hands shake as I type and I am overwhelmed with the juxtaposition of these strong emotions.

Written some time in mid July.

RIP August 19th, 2020

[missperfectlyfine13]

A Bandaid For Your Bullet Hole (4/?)

Read below or on AO3

December 1997

“Come here ladybug,” Richard Beale grabs little 7 year old Chloe’s mitten covered hand as they stomp through the fresh, sparkling and very deep snow.

Chloe watches with wide eyes as her brother Jake plows through the snow, red round saucer sled in hand. It’s Chloe’s first time seeing the fluffy white precipitation. They are in Minnesota visiting her grandma and grandpa for Christmas. The moment she had looked out the window this morning her jaw had dropped to the floor. Her dad had promptly dressed her and her brother in snowsuits and boots and pulled the old sleds down from the rafters of the garage.

“Dad! Chloe! Hurry up!” Jake runs quicker towards the hill, his boots kicking up little puffs of snow.

“We’ll catch up Jake, you can go to the hill,” Richard calls to his eager 12 year old son.

When Chloe and her dad finally reach the top of the hill, Jake has already flown down the hill twice. He’s stomping up the hill when Chloe is just getting her sled situated at the top of the incline.

“Daddy…I’m scared,” the little red head girl looks up at her dad, eyes wide.

He smiles warmly at his daughter and sits down on the back of the sled, patting the space between his legs, “We’ll go down together.”

When Jake had went down the hill the first time, Chloe had watched in excitement and anticipation. She could hardly wait to go down the hill herself, but now that she’s at the top…the bottom seems so far away.

Chloe tentatively sits down at the front of the sled, grabbing the rope tightly.

“Ready Chloe?” her dad asks.

Chloe nods and before she knows it they are flying down the steep hill. The wind whips her face and snow flies up all around them. She lets out a happy squeal, this has to be the best thing she’s ever done. They finally reach the end of the hill and the sled promptly lodges into the deep snow, stopping them dead in their tracks. Chloe practically launches from the front but she couldn’t care less.

“Let’s do it again!” Chloe screams, jumping up from the little sled.

Her dad’s smile is so wide, and he stands up grabbing the sled from the snow, “As many times as you want ladybug.”

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

December 2012

Chloe stands at the top of one of the most intimidating sledding hills she’s ever seen, no less scared than her first time sledding when she was 7…maybe more scared.

Beca looks at her reassuringly, “It’s going to be fun, trust me Chlo.”  

“I feel like this isn’t even remotely safe,” Chloe mutters as she watches a child flying down the slope on an innertube, he looks like he has to be going at least going 50 mph.

“That’s what makes it fun!” Beca laughs, throwing their double innertube down on the smooth, packed down snow, “You want the back or the front?”

“Uh, the back is fine,” Chloe says shakily, crouching down to take her place.

Beca settles in the round dip in the front, nestled tightly between Chloe’s legs. For a moment Chloe forgets that she’s about to go down death mountain, too caught up in the smell of Beca’s fruity shampoo and the way the brunette feels so good leaned up against her. She suddenly feels calm, all nerves dissipated.

“Let’s do this!” Beca screeches, pushing them off with her hand.

Suddenly they are rocketing downwards, the landscape around them a complete blur. Little bits of snow and ice blow up around them as they ride. Chloe lets out a little scream of excitement as they reach their peak speed. Sooner than she’d like, they are at the bottom of the hill. Chloe can still feel the adrenaline pumping though her.

They both hop off the innertube and Beca looks at her expectantly, “So?”

“That was aca-awesome!” Chloe exclaims, eager to go to the top and back down again.

Beca smirks knowingly, “I knew you’d love it.”

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

“I’ve had a really good time today,” Chloe smiles at Beca across the little table.

Beca lowers her white Starbucks cup from her mouth and grins, “Good, I’m glad.”

After they went sledding, they went into the city to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. Chloe didn’t really need to buy anything; she’d already gotten gifts for Aubrey and her brother. She didn’t have a present for Beca though, and luckily the brunette had snuck away for a half an hour, claiming she had a special mission she needed to complete. It gave Chloe the chance to pick something up for her best friend. She really wasn’t sure what to get Beca, she just hopes the other girl likes her gift.

“I don’t think I can say thank you enough times for inviting me here, it means a lot,” Chloe says genuinely.

Beca’s family has made her feel so welcome and shown her so much compassion. She hasn’t felt this happy at Christmas since before her dad died.

“I’m glad you’re here, it’s no problem. You don’t have to keep thanking me,” Beca replies sweetly, looking down at the table intently, her finger tracing the swirls of the wood.

After a few minutes Chloe decides to break the comfortable silence with a question she’s been dying ask, “So do you and your brother ever spend Christmas with your dad?”

Beca shakes her head no, “My dad gets us on Thanksgiving, my mom gets us for Christmas. My mom had insisted that’s how it goes, my dad wasn’t too happy but I’m glad that’s how it is. As you know I’m not my stepmom’s biggest fan…”

“What don’t you like about her?” Chloe knows she’s treading a thin line, Beca doesn’t like to share too much, she knows it’s hard for her, but she’d love to know.

After all that Chloe has shared, she just wants to know Beca that well too.

She can tell Beca is formulating a response, her thumbs twiddling nervously, “Ugh, I don’t know…she just isn’t very nice. When me and my brother are around, she just acts like we are a nuisance. Um, but I guess what really gets me is that she isn’t the biggest fan of…who I am.”

Chloe nods knowingly, “Ah, like because you’re bisexual?”

Beca frowns before shaking her head yes, “I brought my girlfriend to my dad’s one summer and let’s just say she had some choice words for us, about how wrong we were. My dad keeps her under control as best as he can, but she doesn’t like to hold back…I don’t know how he stays with her.”

Chloe feels unbelievably sad for the other girl. Even though her mom is a train wreck, she always accepted Chloe for who she is. No one in her family has a problem with who she loves. She just wishes it could be that way for everyone.

“I’m sorry Bec, that’s got to be really hard.”

Beca shrugs, “It’s ok, I’ve learned to just deal with it. She’s been a lot better since I started dating Jesse, except for her snide little comments about being so grateful that I’m straight now…”

Chloe feels her stomach boil with a mixture of anger at Beca’s stepmom and jealousy at the mention of Jesse, but she quickly shakes it off, “That’s really shitty of her, being with Jesse doesn’t change who you are.”

“If only she would see it that way,” Beca rolls her eyes, “at least my mom and stepdad have always been ok with everything.”

“I just wish that no one had to deal with people like your stepmom, it just makes me sad, my mom has never cared about me liking girls, I’m sure my dad wouldn’t either if he were around,” Chloe shakes her head.

“I’m glad you understand this stuff, I’ve never had friends that could relate to me like this,” Beca confesses quietly.

The statement makes Chloe beam, “I’m glad I have you too.”

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

Chloe flies forward, her heart racing. She tries to catch her breath, but it’s so hard, she hasn’t had a nightmare like that in a long time. Luckily, she didn’t seem to wake up Beca, who is still snoring, sleeping soundly next to her.

It’s the same nightmare every time, it’s always her mom, lying on the sofa limply, a horrific reenactment of what she walked in on 3 years ago. They always seem to happen again around Christmas, for obvious reason.

Chloe slides around, letting her feet hit the cold hardwood flooring. She needs some water. When she gets down to the kitchen, she’s surprised to see she’s not the only person there. Beca’s mom is sitting at the island countertop, Christmas cookie in hand, fluffy robe on and hair tied in a knot on the top of her head.

“Chloe,” the older woman’s eyes flit upwards as Chloe enters the kitchen, “you’re still up?”

“I just needed some water,” Chloe grabs a glass from the cupboard, “what are you doing up still?”

She looks over at the clock on the stove, it’s nearly 2 in the morning.

“Ethan couldn’t sleep, he insisted on sleeping in my bed. I finally got him down, but I worked up a little appetite,” Beca’s mom grins, waving the little gingerbread man in the air.

Chloe fills her glass with water and takes a few large gulps. She’s finally stopped shaking from her nightmare, she hopes she didn’t look too frazzled when she walked in.

“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on with you and Beca?” the older woman asks so nonchalantly, but it practically makes Chloe choke.

“Nothing…I mean we’re friends, good friends,” Chloe rambles, trying not to freak.

“Ok, if you say so,” she smirks, “but I see how you two look at each other.”

“What?” Chloe can’t help the knee jerk reaction, “Beca doesn’t like me…”

“I know what it looks like when my daughter likes someone, she may be with that guy, but she feels something for you, I just know it.”

Her words swirl around in Chloe’s head viciously, her stomach fluttering. She can’t be right, Beca likes Jesse. Though the little glimmer of hope has her heart ablaze.

“Really?” Chloe asks in disbelief.

The older woman nods, “Something about that look on your face tells me you might like her too…”

Chloe can’t help the rosy blush that spreads across her face.

“Wait for her Chloe, she’ll come around,” she pops the last bit of cookie into her mouth before hopping off the stool and back towards the stairs.

Chloe finishes her glass of water and heads back upstairs. She’s not sure how long she lies there before she falls asleep, she just can’t shut her mind off. The idea of Beca liking her back is just too much…

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

Beca and Chloe lounge on the plush sofa in the living room, stomachs full from their Christmas dinner. She can still hear the majority of Beca’s family laughing and chatting in the large dining room. The two had snuck away after their plates were clear to get a good spot to sit. The large home is filled to the brim with family. It’s so warm, happy and rather exciting. This Christmas has been a dream, it’s sad to think it’s almost over.

“Hey,” Beca pokes her in the arm.

Chloe turns to look at her, “What?”

“Follow me,” Beca manages to push herself off the sofa.

Chloe is surprised she can follow suit with how full she feels, “Where are we going?”

“I just want to give you something,” Beca leads them to the back of the house, near the patio doors leading out to the backyard, which is covered in snow and warm lights.

They stop right at the doors, seemingly far away from all of the commotion. Although she can still faintly hear Beca’s Uncle Jerry bellowing loudly, he kind of reminds her of Santa.

Beca pulls a small, neatly wrapped box from her pocket, the little silver bow isn’t even crushed, despite being in Beca’s pocket seemingly all day, “Merry Christmas Chloe.”

Chloe gladly accepts the box with a smile on her face, “Bec, you didn’t have to.”

“Hey, everyone should have something to open on Christmas,” Beca shrugs her shoulders.

Chloe quickly pulls the wrapping away to reveal a small red jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace, a dainty ladybug charm hanging from the chain. She gasps at the thoughtful gift.

“Oh my god, Beca, I love it,” she says in awe, pulling it from the box, “how did you know?”

“You’ve got that tattoo on your wrist, I thought you must just really love them,” Beca replies quietly, “I honestly was just hoping it wasn’t stupid.”

“It isn’t stupid, it’s amazing…I have that tattoo because ladybug is what my dad used to call me,” Chloe clasps the necklace on, running her fingers over it, “this means so much.”

“Oh wow, guess it was a good choice then,” the brunette smiles wildly, clearly happy with the effect her gift had.

“I have something for you too, but I have to go get it,” Chloe chose to wear a dress and doesn’t have the novelty of pockets, like Beca did.

Chloe hurries up to Beca’s room and grabs the slim box from her bag. She practically sprints back downstairs to where Beca is still patiently waiting. Chloe extends the little box out to her best friend, who eagerly takes it from her.

Beca rips the wrapping off, excited to get into the gift, she gasps when she pulls out a little white box, containing a brand new iPod, the surprised look on the brunette’s face is priceless, “Chloe this is great!”

“I noticed yours is kind of old and beat up and I know how much you love music.”

“This had to cost a fortune…you shouldn’t have,” Beca is still grinning from ear to ear, but she sounds concerned.

Chloe shakes her head, “It wasn’t that bad, don’t worry about it, just enjoy it.”

“I will, thank you Chlo,” Beca replies quietly.

Chloe’s eyes drift out the door, a light snow is falling. If Chloe is being quite honest, she hasn’t had her fill of it yet. She wants nothing more than to go outside and soak up the gentle precipitation.

Beca follows her gaze and grins, “You wanna get some fresh air?”

“Yes,” Chloe answers a little too excitedly, earning a chuckle from Beca.

The two grab their coats and quietly slip out into the dark backyard. The only light illuminating the large yard is the soft, colored Christmas lights hanging from the pine trees.

“This is the best Christmas I’ve had in a very long time,” Chloe genuinely confesses.

“I’m glad you accepted my offer to come then,” Beca stuffs her hands into her pockets, it’s a little colder than she had assumed, “you deserve to have a good Christmas, even if it can’t be with your family.”

“The Bellas are my family, you’re my family,” Chloe blurts out, maybe a little too forcefully, “so I am with my family today.”

“I kind of wish the rest of them were here…isn’t that a little crazy?” Beca asks almost in disbelief, like she can’t comprehend that those girls mean that much to her.  

Chloe shakes her head no, “Of course not, it would be nice.”

Although Chloe selfishly is glad that it’s just her and Beca. All this time alone with the younger girl has been amazing…and probably isn’t doing anything to help Chloe’s raging toner for her.

“It’s pretty cold out here, want to go back inside?” Beca motions to the patio door.

Chloe nods, it is really cold, “Yea let’s go.”

The two stop in the entry way to hang their coats on the hall tree. Beca’s baby brother Ethan is sitting on the floor, rolling around a brand-new fire truck. His eyes bounce up to the older girls and he smiles a toothy grin at the two.

“Kiss! You hafta kiss now!” he giggles pointing at his half-sister and her best friend.

Beca’s cheeks turn 20 different shades of red and Chloe feels a chill run down her spine, what is this kid talking about?

The babbling 4-year-old points at the ceiling above them, where a strategically placed bundle of mistletoe has been hung. The little boy has been hanging out in the hallway all day waiting for his next victims, after his mom had explained what the decoration meant.

Recognition flashes across the brunette’s face when she looks up.

“We can’t ignore tradition Bec,” Chloe says cheekily, knowing that she’s pushing the boundaries.

To her surprised Beca shrugs in agreement, “You’re right.”

Chloe’s heart beats wildly as Beca starts to lean in, but to her immense disappointment, Beca goes past her lips and plants a soft kiss on her rosy cheek. Even though she would have preferred a kiss on the lips…her cheek still burns where Beca’s lips landed. The act did nothing to calm her racing heart.

Chloe leans over and returns the favor, letting her lips linger maybe a bit too long on the soft skin of the younger girl’s face, “Merry Christmas Beca.”

When she pulls away, Beca is blushing slightly, but she quickly plays it off, “Merry Christmas Chloe.”

The two barely notice Ethan, who is clapping loudly and squealing excitedly that he got two people to actually play along. What no one sees though, is Beca’s mom who is watching from down the hall, with a cheeky, knowing grin spread across her face…