#and dani forcing her to accept affection

[jedimaesteryoda]

While the show mashed Gendry and Edric Storm together, they are the only two of Robert's sons who we've ever seen. They were born to different circumstances, raised differently and have different attitudes towards their father.

Edric benefited from the fact that his mother was a noblewoman, so that meant Robert had to acknowledge him. It also meant that Robert saw to it that he was cared for. Edric was raised at Storm's End, and given an education and trained at arms, and the staff at Storm's End seemed to love him. Robert would even see him from time to time. He got birthday gifts from King's Landing, but they were always sent by Varys. Gendry, on the other hand, being the child of tavern worker meant that he was unacknowledged and Robert never even knew he existed. He is largely uneducated and he lost his mother at a young age, and Varys saw to it that he was apprenticed to Tobho Mott to learn a trade.

Their backgrounds show completely opposite opinions of Robert. Edric mentioned that Robert would train with him when they visited, and even learned to fight using a war hammer, Robert's signature weapon. He worships Robert to the point he gets defensive it gets pointed out that Robert lost one battle. He likely had the same dream as Jon Snow to be legitimized by his father and accepted into his house. Of course, the sad thing is as much as he craved his father's affection he overlooks that as Stannis pointed out, Robert never really cared that much about him. Robert was a negligent father to all his children.

Gendry only saw Robert once, and that was when he nearly ran him down on his horse while drunk. It left him an unflattering view to say the least of Robert as a "big fat sot" and his only compliment was that Robert was "a better king than these sons of his." He does not romanticize Robert that way Edric does, having seen firsthand his flaws and the effects of his negligence.

They both take after Robert in their appearances with Brienne having almost mistaken Gendry for Renly. However, Edric resembles his father in spirit, having his charm and pride, but he still plays "Monsters and Maidens" with Shireen despite thinking it's a kid's game because she wants to and wanted to say goodbye to her before he left. He seems to be sensitive towards the feelings of others, and isn't shitty to the women in his life so far.

Gendry resembles more his uncle Stannis in personality in being serious, brooding and having a chip in his shoulder as well as an affinity for the Lord of Light. But he joins the Brotherhood without Banners to protect the smallfolk of the riverlands during the War of Five Kings that began during the end of Robert's reign. He also wields a hammer like Robert, but for constructive purposes in blacksmithing. He is a literal Smith to Robert's Warrior, a creator as opposed to destroyer. He lost his mother as Robert lost his parents, but he avoided his father's vices towards wine and women. Gendry's childhood experience witnessing his mother bringing home drunk patrons to hook up with hardly left a favorable impression on him. He is what Robert could have been.

Robert didn't really do much for them as a father, but the fact that he fathered them combined with his failures as a king meant they have targets on their backs. Gendry was forced to leave King's Landing to avoid Cersei's men taking his head. Edric was forced to leave Westeros to avoid being burned by Stannis at Melisandre's behest. Even posthumously, Robert's legacy put them in harm's way.

As for where their stories might go, that's speculation. Unfortunately for Edric, I think he will be brought into the game of thrones again. If Daenerys crosses, she might come across him in Lys. Tyrion might suggest legitimizing him as a puppet lord of Storm's End. Any concerns by Daenerys could be blown away by the question: How many dragons does he have? Edric's claim would be dependent on Dany's victory. Of course, bringing him back means he is back in the line of fire. I could see an Addam of Hull parallel for him. :(

As for Gendry, that fact that his heritage hasn't been publicly revealed yet likely means that it has a role to play in the story like Jon Snow's. Staying out of the game of thrones likely ensured his safety, and he might by a twist of fate be legitimized into the next Lord of Storm's End. I could even see him and Arya getting together, fulfilling the promise of a Stark-Baratheon marriage.

The two boys represent different parts of Robert's legacy. One is the memory of Robert as the larger-than-life warrior who won the Iron Throne with his war hammer, and the other is the reality of the consequences of Robert's personal and political failures as king. We will see how they deal with Robert's legacy as the story goes on.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Midsommar vs SPOP: Cults and Religious Trauma

i watched Midsommar recently and was struck by how subtle and nuanced the Hårga were, in comparison to the Intergalactic Horde. of course, i don’t expect SPOP to show the kind of brutal gore that Midsommar did, but what i’m talking about is the way these cults indoctrinated members.

Horde Prime just mind controlled everyone to follow his orders and praise him, and it just felt so immature, especially compared to the way SPOP handled some of the other deeper topics. you’re telling me they wrote an actually good manipulator in the form of Shadow Weaver, but couldn’t do the same for Horde Prime? cult leaders are supposed to be manipulative. they don’t just force you to join their cults because it’s so much easier to break out of it. no, what they do is they convince you that this is for your own good. they promise you support, community, happiness, peace. they especially target emotionally vulnerable individuals, because they are a lot likely to accept help from a large community who is seemingly just looking out for them and trying to help them out.

and this is what happens in Midsommar. Dani recently lost her entire family to a murder-suicide, and her boyfriend had fallen out of love with her at this point and he often manipulates and guilt-trips her whenever she points out his mistakes. she was overall extremely lonely and depressed, trying hard to repress her emotions for everyone else’s sake. this is the kind of person the Hårga were looking for. a lot of the audience didn’t even realize that Dani was being indoctrinated into a cult or that joining said cult was going to be very unhealthy for her. that’s how convincing the Hårga were.

Pelle especially seems like the warm, comforting figure that Dani needed, letting her open up about her feelings and listening to her, in contrast to Christian, Dani’s boyfriend, who was often preoccupied with other things, and didn’t even bother to remember Dani’s birthday. you almost root for Pelle and Dani to end up together, until you realize that he is also part of the cult and all of his empathy and compassion is just a clever way to manipulate Dani into trusting the Hårga.

the scariest thing about the Hårga is that they weren’t large, imposing figures with a god complex. they didn’t have a leader who ruled them with an iron fist. they were just a seemingly normal community with seemingly normal people who had fun rituals and celebrations, and seemingly supported and cared for one another. even after seeing two people die brutally, Dani was still manipulated into joining the Hårga because they took advantage of her trauma and her loneliness. she desperately needed actual support and a shoulder to lean on, something her boyfriend didn’t provide. so when the Hårga offered her that support, it was easy for her to believe that this community was exactly what she needed.

and i think SPOP could have pulled something like this off, especially with Catra. if they really wanted us to believe that Catra felt guilty about her actions, they could have gone a more interesting route. i mentioned this in a previous post but instead of Horde Prime chipping Catra, they could have shown him manipulate her and promise her that she can be absolved of all her sins if she joined him. instead of being all like “teehee i know you have a crush on adora, you gay kitty”, they could have shown him feed on her insecurities and loneliness, and promise her a happier future of she joined him, playing on her need for validation and affection.

and in a moment of desperation, Catra believes him. she has lost everyone at this point, so she accepts what little comfort is offered to her. and then it’s the writers’ choice whether to redeem Catra by having her come to the realization that worshipping a genocidal tyrant with a god complex is actually not going to help her become a better person, and that she was just repressing her guilt and convincing herself that this is the best option; or to have her stay and face a tragic ending of sorts. either way, i think it would have been better than what we got.

i know that Nate apparently struggled with religious trauma and guilt (according to a few posts i saw, at least) and i’m not trying to say that i know his experience better than he does. i just think the execution with Horde Prime was really off, and he was almost like a funny caricature of a cult leader, rather than a representation of an actual cult leader.

[reiline]

My Sole Survivor Daniella (Dani), I wanted to draw her long ago

Several random headcanons:

1)At the beginning of the main events she’s 25 y.o.

2) She got the scar on her face from the deathclaw cub. Even babies can tear skin to flesh with their claws, but Dani managed to dodge at the last moment, so the cut didn’t come out very deep

(she has a few other small scars and moles on her body, but I forgot to add them at the end)

3) Piper once gave Dani a handmade "lucky" cap, like a talisman as a gift for her friend. Once, at the time of the transaction with one of the unpleasant and rude merchants, Dani didn’t notice the fake cap mixed with the rest, and paid as it was. In general, the merchant caught her cheating, and the situation could have gotten out of control if not for the presence of Hancock at her side. As soon as he silently demonstrated his shotgun, the merchant immediately chickened out and accepted an apology and a real cap from Dani, who tries to avoid conflicts whenever possible

4) Dani had an older brother who lived in Washington with his family. Even if he managed to survive and get to the vault, he was hardly put into cryogenic sleep, so at best he died of natural causes, and Dani would never learn of his fate

5) Like many before the war, Dani married not for love, but because it was so accepted. She was quite lucky: her husband was a handsome, decent military man who sincerely loved her, supported her and, most importantly, didn’t put pressure on her or try to force her to love him. After the birth of her son, she even began to feel something more than a simple affection for him, but they weren’t destined to take their relationship to the next level when nuclear war broke out

6) Dani is very beautiful. Even after weeks and months of living in new realities, her ability to love and sympathize with others never faded, and the scars didn’t spoil her in any way and only added zest. There were downsides to this, and Dani repeatedly fought back against those unable to keep their household in their pants, but so far she’d been saved by natural luck and her favorite gun

7) The Institute is destroyed. Dani left synth!Shaun alive, but refused to be his guardian/mother/whatever. For several weeks the boy lived in the Railroad headquarters, but one day Desdemona informed Dani that Shaun had left, possibly outside of Boston. For a while, Dani worried about him and wished she’d tried to take him in or shelter him in one of the settlements, but soon she came to terms with it, and she would never see Shaun again

.

.

Music theme: 🎶 Massive Attack - Teardrop I don't have as many ideas for Fallout 4 as for Mass Effect, and I don't have my own OCs within the universe, but perhaps I will sometimes sketch for it too ;)

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hello again, if you have time :

What is the reaction of Essosi Nobles and princes when the princess came? We know that Viserys was mocked as the beggar king.

In a what if scenario (I don't know if you have thought about this) when the princess still hasn't forgiven Arthur yet even after the point where the one-shot occurred, if she showed interest in someone would Arthur stop her? I know he valued vowes, but he also was a huge part of what happened to her and helped Rhaegar do what he did and since it's hard to just accept him especially when the circumstances of how they got wed is so much more cruel and forced than how her marriage to Rhaegar.

Will she ever see Rhaegar again? Will she ever have a normal relationship with him again? Or will she ever see Westeros again? Meet Dany and see Viserys again?

What would Jon think of what his parents did?

Well hello again!

To answer your questions:

warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity

What is the reaction of Essosi Nobles and princes when the princess came? We know that Viserys was mocked as the beggar king. – There is some gossip and pitiful looks, but Vaesella isn't mocked the way Viserys was in the books since she has not lost all favor. Despite her new marriage, she is still very much a princess, her family is still in power, her brother is the new king, her new husband is a second to the chief envoy to Pentos, and she receives a generous allowance that allows her to maintain her dignity as a Targaryen princess. In Pentos, this is important, as wealth equals power, and the princess is smart enough to improve on what she already has. 

In a what if scenario (I don't know if you have thought about this) when the princess still hasn't forgiven Arthur yet even after the point where the one-shot occurred, if she showed interest in someone would Arthur stop her? I know he valued vowes, but he also was a huge part of what happened to her and helped Rhaegar do what he did and since it's hard to just accept him especially when the circumstances of how they got wed is so much more cruel and forced than how her marriage to Rhaegar. – I have not thought of it, but it is an interesting prospect to ponder. Vaesella, even though she is married, would definitely be surrounded by admirers in Pentos. She is as fair as her twin, and she finds herself the recipient of attention from magisters, visiting envoys and nobles from other lands, even from high-ranking red priests/priestesses and Dothraki Khals. Arthur would not like if it happened, and he would never agree to her reciprocating the affections of someone other than him. This makes him a hypocrite, yes, but Arthur, while being patient and willing to do many things to earn his wife’s better opinion of him, is not going to be a doormat. 

Will she ever see Rhaegar again? Will she ever have a normal relationship with him again? Or will she ever see Westeros again? Meet Dany and see Viserys again? Vaesella ends up forgiving her older brother and his new wife for their affair, but she does it for her sake and not theirs. Her relationship with her older brother never recovers. She will travel to Westeros every other year to call on Viserys while he is in Dorne, and when he is old enough, he travels to Pentos to see her. She also travels to King’s Landing, but that is to accompany Arthur when he has business with the king. She avoids meeting Rhaegar and Lyanna as much as she can, and she stays in the maiden vault while Arthur meets with the king. She also spends time with Dany during these visits, and Dany, once she is old enough to do so, travels to Pentos with Viserys, and she later takes up a position as her sister’s cupbearer. 

What would Jon think of what his parents did? Jon/Aenar respects his parents for being honest with him over how they met, but he still has moments of sadness, resentment, confusion, hurt, jealousy, and anger. He hears the names others call his mother, how they compare her to the princess she supplanted, and the names others call him. He sees how his older aunt and uncle are standoffish with him. They are not mean to him (Well, Viserys was mean until Rhaegar put a stop it and sent him to Dorne because he had had enough) but they keep their distance, and Vaesella limits her relationship with her older brother’s son to a superficial level and gifts. Jon/Aenar sees how his older aunt is warm with his maternal uncle’s children, how even his paternal uncle is nice to them. All of it upsets him. It is a sad situation, but alas, such is life.   

[ethereal-elegance]

Banter,flirting,and teasing ain't just all there is to chemistry because all a good romance really-truly needs is bonding,mutual admiration,mutual respect and mutual trust with natural,meaningful development and progression of significance.Not to mention all those shallow insignificant interactions including cheap unconvincing cliché "tension" like "staring" and 'heavy breathing",excessive unnecessary corny,cheesy,sickening,icky "fluff" filler scenes of no substance but to waste screen time are no match for compelling emotionally intimate interactions and scenes in which the characters are vulnerable revealing the human side of themselves without their masks and armor others rarely have the privilege to see due to duty and propriety,which makes for even more compelling characters individually,not just only to develop a relationship.And fluff is only satisfying when the relationship is well developed and has naturally progressed,not forced and contrived out of thin air for fanservice most didn't ask for.

Crackshippers tend invent moments/what doesn't exist and tend to be biased with their rose-colored glasses, cherry-picking for confirmation bias, confusing a dynamic they love/prefer like the majority with chemistry, etc, but conveniently dismiss canon ships actually having what they deluded themselves into believing their crackship has, using every and any excuse they find under the sun to not be convinced, to justify their opposition. Anyone who says got jonerys had no development or progression is confirming they are just biased or ignorant, against the ships for typical unwarranted, unfounded xyz "reasons". There's only so much actors can do with what they've been given. Directing tricks such as heavy breathing, staring, prolonged eye contact, grinning widely and other common, cheap tactics are often used to overcompensate for mediocre chemistry between actors. Writing and dialogue can also make it seem like there's chemistry when there's none. But bad writing, poor written dynamics, bad dialogue, bad directing, and bad editing can also dampen the chemistry they have.

It makes sense Jon "Brooding" Snow would be apprehensive, reluctant and hesitate to become close Daenerys any more than necessary because of what Aerys did to Brandon who provoked the traumatised king and Rickard who tried to save his son. So Jon relationship with Daenerys is practically forbidden. Jon is the type to suppress any feelings that could affect his dedication to his duty. Even he tells Ser Davos there's no time for this after Davos notes Jon's attraction to Daenerys "I saw you looking at her good heart" when Jon said he thinks Daenerys has a good heart after she apologized for her father's atrocities inflicted on his grandfather and uncle.

Jonsa crackshippers who conveniently dismiss the obvious fact that Jon had to fill in Ned's and Robb's shoes out of duty to family and platonic love for them as the eldest of House Stark in favor of conflating their bias towards crackship jonsa is often overlooked. With the imminent threat of the undead army looming over their heads and the possibility of losing lives, Jon seemingly needed to prevent the tragedy and pain if he were to fall in love with Dany and one or both of them were fall in the war. And it doesn't help that Jon was so desperate for acceptance and approval from the North to prove he's worthy of being their king to compensate for his bastardy.

It's strange how antis and detractors of jonerys overlook Jon being younger and less experienced when he was with Ygritte, not to mention the fact that Jon and Dany are canonically dutiful and basically workaholics. There was never any flirting or banter between Daenerys and Khal Drogo, and Ygritte was the only one "flirting/bantering" by belittling, demeaning, and insulting Jon who was always serious and brooding never once really reciprocated especially in that regard anyway. (There's even speculation in the books that jonerys would flirt using taxes.) Those were simpler times compared to S7 when winter was near, so Jon was understandably more broody and pensive + irritable, apprehensive, weary and burdened by the potential impending doom. I suppose Jon's relationship with Ygritte is like how Drogo was Dany's first love despite the complicated abusive power imbalance and Stockholm Syndrome, considering Ygritte canonically coerces Jon who is forced to bed her to survive.

More affection, intimacy, flirting, and banter (mainly from Jon/on his side) could've been incorporated into their relationship if there was enough time allocated in that type of show the opposite of Bridgeton, but people would still complain and criticize with double standards regardless about how it's supposedly out of character and out of place in the context of GoT (as if the entirety of GoT and characters were OOC from the beginning that there are different stories with different versions of the characters who aren't really themselves) due to their bias like they did with the dragon flight and waterfall scene in the North during S8. They would've damned the pairing either way as done with Dany regularly and likely supported their desired crackships in the same place because antis tend to hate Dany for having all of what they covet for their favs.

Kit and Emilia have chemistry in real life, behind the scenes, in interviews and even in photoshoots of both their characters and themselves where it was so palpable even long before Jon and Dany met. Even Kit said "as my best friend, I think she's extraordinary", and Emilia said Kit was like putting on your favorite jacket. People even call them platonic soulmates besides Emilia and Jason. Both have explained they quickly became close friends before GoT even premiered. They were hanging out ever since throughout the show, and they finally got to act in some scenes together as they explicitly made clear they wanted. So how could they not have chemistry? It just didn't translate well on-screen because they so called tools, much to be desired dialogue from a script with some of the right ideas but could've been written and executed better likely with clever directing, the actors were given to work with didn't support it.

And for how ever much flack some give to Emilia's acting, she was definitely a better actor than Kit who's acting was unconvincing to them. Emilia carried most of their scenes. Emilia is friends with his girl Rose Leslie (Ygritte) who Emilia was also seen spending time with alongside Kit, and both said it was weird acting like that and kissing each other likely because their friendship and relationship with Rose. So it's understandable if they felt uncomfortable from those intimate interactions. This situation reminds me of Paul Wesley and Candice King in TVD who had chemistry as friends but not really as romantic partners because Paul said it was weird doing those scenes with his best friend's wife.

I’m still kind of boggled when people say Jon and Dany had no chemistry.  Like, yeah, their entire story was rushed as hell, and their chemistry could have been better.  But to say there was no chemistry I don’t understand.  People often compare them to Jon and Ygritte but I don’t feel that’s a very fair comparison, for several reasons (those earlier seasons are the show’s best, there’s no time compression, all Martin’s material to work with, K and R being a thing irl, I mean come on yes there’s a difference in chemistry).

I will say Jon and Dany’s chemistry took a dive in S8, but everyone’s entire characterizations took dives.  The only character (that anyone cared about) who managed to have any consistency was Theon.  That’s it.  Everyone else’s characters took hits, but none moreso than Jon and Dany themselves.   Even individually their characters were off-kilter.

It just bothers me when people nitpick at Jon and Dany’s relationship itself, rather than blame the real issue, that being the compressed time and the writing.  Then they go dragging out the show’s earlier seasons, pointing out how those relationships were better.  Of course they were, everything was better back then.  It’s like pulling out a cold hamburger from last week, and pointing out how much better the burger was a week ago when it was fresh.  Jfc.

[moonflowerlesbians]

“choose your battles wisely”

Un-beta’d and written after surgery, so please take with a grain of salt. I’ll reblog with the AO3 link in the morning!

Rated T, ~4.1k. Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort

~~~

Jamie is an idiot.

Or, to be more specific, she is an absolute goddamn buffoon of the utmost clownery.

This is, more or less, Dani’s internal monologue as she follows the sound of pained grunts to a somewhat obscured section of the sprawling statue garden, where she comes across a rather disgruntled gardener lying flat on her back in the mud. Her oilskin hat has fallen to one side, and Jamie stares, bleary-eyed, at the grey England sky overhead. There is a decently sized marble sculpture on the ground beside her.  

“You alright, there?” Dani calls, after only a brief moment of amused silence.

“Jesus!” Jamie swears, her entire body twitching, which causes her outburst to dissolve into a groan. “Christ, Poppins, wear a bloody bell,” she grumbles.

Dani rolls her eyes. “You alright?” she repeats, quieter this time.

“Oh, who, me? Yeah, ‘course. Just, you know, enjoying some ‘me time.’” She moves to raise her arm in a weak attempt at waving Dani off, but the limb makes it mere inches off the ground before flopping unceremoniously into the dirt. “Taking in the views...”

“Some view,” Dani notes, with a playful, sardonic lilt to her voice. A pause. “Owen made sandwiches if you’d like to come in for lunch.”

“Be right there,” Jamie replies halfheartedly. She does not stir, her gaze still fixed on the dreary cloud cover, a firm set to her jaw. “Don’t wait up.”

“We might as well walk back together.” Dani crosses her arms. “That is, assuming you’re almost done with your ‘me time.’”

“Almost done. Right. Yeah.”

Dani watches the deep inhale as Jamie steels herself, the muscles of Jamie’s stomach flexing with effort. With a sharp gasp, Jamie pushes herself onto her elbows, but she only lasts a quick second before she’s once again lying prone, muttered curses falling from her lips.

Dani winces sympathetically. “Oh, baby, don’t hurt yourself.”

“Bit late for that.”

“What did you do?” She kneels at Jamie’s side, moist soil dampening her jeans, and brushes wispy brown hairs from her face.

“Picked a fight with the wrong woman.” Jamie nods at the overturned statue. “Credit where credit’s due, she’s stronger than she looks. Heavier, too.”

“So, you decided you were going to move a marble statue, on your own, after a rainstorm, which resulted in you, what, throwing out your back?” Dani translates. “And you thought this was a good idea because…?”

“Never said it was a good idea.”

“And yet here we are.”

“Right, well,” Jamie sighs, “we’ve established I’m not the sharpest knife in the block.” Her eyes meet Dani’s, defeated. “If you would be so kind as to lend me a hand, I’d rather not like to die like this.”

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” She thinks she catches a fleeting smile before it is replaced with a grimace.

Gingerly, Dani wedges her arm between Jamie’s shoulders and the earth below, murmuring gentle apologies at each indication of discomfort. She offers her other hand for Jamie to grab. Together, they work her into a sitting position. Jamie’s chest heaves, and her face is a ghostly shade of white.

They stay like that for a minute. While Jamie catches her breath, Dani’s fingers rub what she hopes are soothing circles into her back. How long has she been out here?

“Are you okay to walk?” Dani asks.

“Suppose we’ll find out,” Jamie says in a tone not at all reassuring.

Dani braces herself and takes both of Jamie’s hands in her own, digging her heels into the dirt. “One...two…”

On three, she pulls, and Jamie staggers to her feet, with Dani catching the majority of her weight as she topples forward and the air goes out of her.

“JesusshitfuckingChristfuckshittinghellgoddamnit-”

“Okay, you’re okay,” Dani says, trying to angle herself to best support the woman about to get herself excommunicated for blasphemy. She can feel the tension radiating off of Jamie in waves.

“I’m fine, I’m good,” Jamie promises, very much not fine and very much not good. “Nothing’s broken, I don’t think. Just, ah, a little crooked, s’all.” Her breathing is labored as they take a few tentative steps.

“Look, you just rest here, and I’ll run back and get Owen--”

“No, absolutely not,” Jamie cuts her off. “If that man finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it. Little shit still brings up the Rosebush Incident of Eighty-five whenever I break out the pruning shears.” Her arm drapes heavy around Dani’s neck as they round a corner.

“What--”

“Don’t,” Jamie wheezes, “ask.”

“You realize how dumb that is, right? And I’m definitely going to ask,” Dani says, guiding them toward the front door. Jamie stops short.

“Side door,” she explains, “servants’ hall. Won’t go past the kitchen. Can use one of the empty rooms until I sort myself out.”

“You might want to get your head checked if you think I’m leaving you alone like this.”

Dani readjusts her grip, while Jamie nimbly flips through a massive ring of keys Dani swears she’s never seen before, yet Jamie handles with the expertise of someone who does this daily. Which, Dani realizes, feeling rather stupid, she probably does.

“Fuck,” Jamie says under her breath as the door opens, revealing a hallway Dani has yet to explore. Dani sees the problem. She looks at Jamie. She looks at the narrow staircase. She evaluates her upper body strength.

Then, Jamie is making a rather undignified noise as Dani lifts her without warning, and Dani would be lying if she said the look on Jamie’s face isn’t extraordinarily satisfying. Something about seeing her stoic, mulish girlfriend, gone limp in her arms, looking at her, a little awestruck, well… it’s a sight Dani intends to cherish. And definitely not for the potential blackmail purposes.

Only after Dani gingerly deposits her on the blue quilt in Dani’s room does Jamie say, deadly serious, “We never speak of this again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dani says, “take these.” She plops two pills and a cup of water in Jamie’s hand and disappears into the adjacent bathroom.

“That’s the spirit, Poppins,” she calls after her.

“Come on,” Dani says, reappearing in the doorway. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes before you catch a cold.”

“I’m fine,” Jamie scoffs, visibly shivering.

“The mud stain on my duvet says otherwise. Come on. Up you get. The bath is filling.”

“I can’t ask you to let me use your bath.”

“Good thing you’re not asking, then.”

The half-formed rebuke dies on Jamie’s lips, and she nods as if to say, touché, but Dani is certain she will not be hearing the end of this. She beckons Jamie up and pulls her into the other room, leaning her against the countertop. Without thinking, she begins undoing the buttons on Jamie’s top.

“Blimey,” Jamie remarks, not pushing Dani away, but stilling her movements.

Dani can feel the heat rise in her cheeks. She backpedals. “I, um, I didn’t-- I’m so sorry.”

Jamie just laughs, “Only teasing, love. But, ah, I can probably take it from here, yeah?”

“Um, yeah. I’ll just… be in the bedroom. If you need me.”

Dani slumps against the door as it closes behind her. The sound of the water running mimics the rush of blood in her ears. They’ve only been doing... whatever this is between them for a month. Not long at all. Certainly not long enough to be undressing her in the middle of the day with people in the house while she’s in pain. Dani hadn’t meant it in an erotic way but, Jesus, Dani, show some restraint.

She exhales. Right. Organize. Jamie will need a towel. She’ll need dry clothes. Maybe tea? A warm compress. Or ice? What do people put on sore muscles? A massage? Dani swallows thickly and shakes off the thought of Jamie’s smooth skin beneath her fingertips, tightness dissipating as Dani works the knots away. She absolutely does not imagine Jamie melting into the mattress or the moans that might escape through her lips, and she decidedly does not dwell upon the rare sight of Jamie, pliant and entirely relaxed.

Absolutely not. Shove that into a box and come back to it later. It’s worked well enough in the past.

Right then.

Dani sets about making the necessary rearrangements, shuffling her boots into the closet, digging out appropriately loose clothes for laying about, and swiping a plate of sandwiches from the kitchen, making some excuse about Jamie being too busy to come in, but she sends her thanks. Owen raises an eyebrow at this, but apparently does not feel the need to comment. Hannah, however, takes one look at Dani’s muddy knees and frowns.

“Miss Clayton, you had better not be tracking mud through my house.”

“Yes, Miss Clayton, or else you will have to mop up the mess just like Miles!” Flora states, intently focused on the cucumber and cream cheese sandwich on her plate.

“I told you it wasn’t me!” Miles objects loudly, his drinking glass making contact with the table with a bit more force than necessary.

“It’s in the past,” Dani dismisses, before the situation can get out of hand. She turns to Hannah, and, in her best I’m-setting-an-example-please-go-with-it voice, says, “Of course, Mrs. Grose, I made sure to wipe my feet at the door, but I will clean up any messes I made because it is very important that we all clean up our own messes.”

“Right you are, dear.”

“Could I get a cup of tea to take to Jamie as well? I’d make it but…”

“Say no more,” Owen rises from his seat at the table. “Wouldn’t want to poison poor Jamie, now would we?” Then, with a chuckle, “She’s got you properly whipped, hasn’t she? Trekking lunch out to whatever corner of the grounds she’s wound up in.”

“Why’s Jamie whipping Miss Clayton?” Flora pipes up.

Dani feels her face flush. “Oh, sweetie, she’s, um, that’s not--”

“What Owen means to say, is it’s very nice of Miss Clayton to deliver a meal to Jamie while she’s working,” Hannah says pointedly.

Owen coughs. “Ah, yeah, to-tea-lly leaf-ly of her to help out.”

“Hannah, I was thinking of taking my lunch with Jamie. Would you mind keeping an eye on these two for a little while?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Hannah chaffs, “They’re an awful lot of trouble, these two.”

“You think,” Owen chimes in, “they’d behave if I told them I could use a hand baking biscuits this afternoon?”

“I suppose that might do it,” Hannah says, an expression of faux pensivity creasing her forehead. “What do you think, children?”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Grose, that would be perfectly splendid!”

“Can we make snickerdoodles?”

“Don’t see why not,” Owen says. He hands a teacup to Dani. “Off with you. Go find your knight in mud and dungarees.”

Dani shoots them a grateful smile and heads back upstairs, delicately balancing the cup with the plate of food. She knocks thrice.

“Yeah.” Jamie’s voice comes muffled through the heavy wooden door as Dani cautiously turns the knob.

Dani lets out a moderately embarrassing squeak and immediately averts her eyes, intent on looking anywhere except at a very wet, towel-clad Jamie. “Oh, um, good. Y-you found the towel.”

“That I did. I, ah, wasn’t sure if these were for me,” she gestures to the neatly folded stack of clothes on the bed, “didn’t want to assume.”

“They’re, um, they’re for you.” There’s a fascinating crack in the floor Dani has never noticed before. It’s about four inches long and almost invisible.

“Hey, Dani, you can look.” Jamie sounds almost concerned. ‘S’okay. It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” She grins wryly.

“No, no, yeah, I know. It just, I don’t know, feels different when it’s not for that reason.”

“Dani Clayton, not a fan of casual nudity. Noted,” Jamie teases.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t a fan.” Dani places the tea and sandwiches on the bedside table, stepping into Jamie’s space.

“That so?”

“Mhm,” Dani hums, “and I’m going to stop this runaway train right here. You’re injured.”

Jamie huffs. “Bloody rude.”

“How’s your back?”

“Feels fine. Right as rain. I’ll just get dressed and go back out--”

“You most certainly will not. You are going to get dressed and get in this bed and you are going to rest.”

“But I’ve still got to finish in the statuary, and Hannah’s brought up a crack she wants me to fix, and--”

“--and all of those things can wait. I’ve taken care of enough idiotic teenage sports injuries to know that straining it will only make it worse. So, put these on, and get into bed.” She leaves no room for disagreement.

“I can’t believe you just used your teacher voice on me.”

“I can’t believe you’re being this obstinate.”

“I’m fine!”

“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” It is not aggressive. It comes out softly, a hint of confusion combined with an ounce of desperation.

Jamie freezes. “I don’t…”

“You only took a bath after I practically forced you--”

“I wouldn’t--”

“You could’ve really hurt yourself.”

“I know, but--”

“How long would you have laid out there in the mud before calling for help?”

“Dani,” Jamie interrupts, an appeasing thumb running along the inside of Dani’s wrist, “look, I just…” she sighs. “It’s not that easy.”

“It is, though,” Dani insists.

“No, love, it’s not. Not when you’ve been… well, not when you’re me.” She pauses, sits on the bed, and nudges Dani down next to her. “I don’t like feeling useless, s’all. People look at you, see you laying about, they see weakness. Someone to be pitied or someone to be taken advantage of. Just once is all it takes for them to get the idea you can’t stand on your own two feet.”

She seems a million miles away, a decade, even, and Dani waits. Jamie will continue if she wants to.

“I don’t like being pitied. And I know that’s not...that’s not what you’re trying to do.” She chooses her words carefully, as if walking through a minefield. Dani stands on the other side. “No need to give me the talk about everybody needing help. ‘Cause, in theory, yeah, that’s true, but when you’ve always been the one doing the helping... it… it’s not all that easy to be on the receiving end.” The last sentence is rushed, and Jamie finishes with a humorless snort of laughter. Her thumb has halted its caress of Dani’s skin.

Dani is silent for a moment. Coddling would be met with rejection. Not outright, no, but Dani knows better. Jamie has lain bare this piece of her soul, held out a fragment of her identity in tender hands, and trusts Dani to take it under her care, treasure it. Jamie had woven the tale of her life under the moonlight, and Dani has spent the past month trying to unravel the threads, to understand. Now, Jamie has given her a new string to follow, but she cannot pull too hard, lest it fall apart.

Dani speaks, quiet, but firm. “We’ll just have to practice then, won’t we.”

A flicker of confusion passes over Jamie’s face as she processes. Then, she softens. Her thumb resumes its rhythmic movement.

There will be other times, Dani has said, and I will stay and I will be here for you because you aren’t alone anymore.

And that seems to be enough.

Jamie exhales through her nose.

“Bit nippy in here. Might, ah, might want to put on some clothes.”

Right. Yes. Of course. Jamie is still in a towel. Gooseflesh has risen along her legs, and she shivers.

“Oh, oh, yeah,” Dani stammers, “I’ll just--” She mimes turning around and is met with a chuckle.

“You weren’t this shy the other night, if memory serves.”

“That,” Dani reiterates, “that was different.” She makes a show of fussing with the corner of the duvet, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles.

Jamie makes a noncommittal noise low in her throat. “I’m decent.”

Dani had picked the clothes, sure, but for a woman who prides herself on preparedness, actually seeing Jamie in Dani’s old elementary school t-shirt and loose-fitting, flannel trousers causes the circuits in her brain to fry.

“Your tea’s getting cold,” she says dumbly. “I didn’t make it,” she adds, noting Jamie’s look of skepticism. Apparently satisfied with that answer, Jamie sips at her beverage and slides under the covers, gesturing for Dani to join her. She shakes her head. “I still need to clean myself up. Hannah’s watching the kids for now, but I really should get back to them.”

“A tragedy of Shakespearen proportions.”

“You need anything else before I shower?”

“No, thank you, love.” Modest affection shines on Jamie’s face, and she speaks so genuinely Dani’s heart aches. She smiles.

“Get some rest, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jamie gives a mock salute, at which Dani can only roll her eyes before exiting  into the bathroom with an extra towel and a change of clothes.

When she returns, wringing her hair out, she finds Jamie soundly asleep. The teacup has been placed on the table, next to the plate now missing a sandwich, and Jamie is curled on her side, puffing slow, measured breaths.

Chamomile tea. Who knew?

Dani makes sure to close the door quietly, and she does her best to herd the children away from that side of the house.

It’s about time for supper when Dani makes her way back to her room. When Jamie does not answer her knocks, Dani opens the door, praying the hinges will not squeak for once. Jamie is still nestled in Dani’s bed. She’s rolled over, though, facing the door, and Dani can see her bangs billowing slightly with every breath. Jamie’s nose twitches where the hair tickles it.

This isn’t the first time Dani has seen Jamie in her bed, and she certainly hopes it won’t be the last, but this, this casual intimacy, is something so precious to her. She wants it to last.

Dani perches on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to remove the offending strand of hair from Jamie’s face, and Jamie stirs.

“Hey,” Dani whispers, and Jamie cracks an eye. She presses a hand to her forehead. One of her shirtsleeves has fallen to the side, revealing pale collarbones.

“Hey.” Her voice is gravelly, sleep-laden, in a way that makes Dani’s stomach turn over itself. “Time s’it?”

“Around six, I think?” That grabs Jamie’s attention. Before Dani can stop her, she’s scrambling to sit up, completely forgetting that’s a terrible idea and acting surprised when she topples back onto the pillows with a grunt.

“Easy, easy…” Dani scolds sweetly, as Jamie gasps. “You’re okay. Just lay back. That’s it.”

“Christ.”

“Forgot why you ended up here in the first place, huh?”

“I can’t believe you let me sleep all day,” Jamie says, when the stab of pain fades. “Thought you’d at least wake me up after an hour or so. Had things to do.”

“We said they could wait.”

“You said they could wait.”

“You can’t seriously be mad at me for making you take care of yourself.”

“Feel like I wasted a day, s’all.”

“Well, you didn’t. Taking care of yourself is never a waste,” Dani says, effectively ending the argument. “Do you want to come down for dinner, or do you want me to bring it up to you?” Jamie opens her mouth, but Dani continues, “Before you answer, I want you to think about whether you’re making this decision based on what’s easiest for me, or what you actually feel capable of doing.”

Jamie’s brows raise. “Someone’s feeling bold this evening.”

Dani resists the urge to shirk away, to cave. She knows Jamie would drop it instantly, reassuring Dani that she hasn’t actually overstepped. Instead, Dani says, quietly, sincerely, “You don’t have to put your needs aside to make my life easier.” She considers, leans down so that she’s laying next to Jamie on the bed. “Besides, I like taking care of you.”

Jamie studies her. Whether she’s looking for the lie or for Dani to pull back and say, “just kidding!” Dani doesn’t know. Jamie presses a gentle kiss to her lips, a kiss that speaks the words she cannot. A kiss that says, I’m working on it.

Dani stays close when they break apart, their foreheads touching. “So, dinner?”

“Should probably make an appearance.”

Dani gives her a pointed look. “‘Should’ or ‘want to.’”

“Want to,” Jamie assures, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“You know,” Dani says, helping Jamie sit up slowly, “we should probably tell them how you hurt yourself, or they’ll assume it was from less, hm, virtuous activities.”

“Dirty bird.” Jamie swats her arm. “Owen, maybe, but not our good, Christian Hannah.”

“But do you really want to deal with the comments at the table?”

“Fine. We tell them I fell, and that’s it.”

“Right, so I shouldn’t mention your incredibly stupid idea to move a heavy marble statue without help?”

“Not ideally, no.”

Dani pouts. “Do I at least get to ask about the Rosebush Incident of Eighty-five?”

“You’re not gonna let that one go, are you?” Jamie sighs. “Fine. Ask Owen, then. Suppose you’ll find out about it eventually.” Dani places a gleeful kiss on her cheek.

“Come on, let’s get some food into you.”

The few hours of bedrest appear to have paid off, Dani thinks smugly, as Jamie is perfectly capable of walking herself down the hall. Jamie, however, seems to be rather content to use this as an excuse to lean into Dani, and Dani can’t say she minds all that much. She stands on her own as they near the kitchen and moves with only a slight limp and a wince Dani only catches because she’s looking for it.

At another time, she’ll wonder how often Jamie has hidden her pain.

“There she is!” Owen exclaims when they take their unassigned, assigned seats at the table.

“What happened, dear?” Hannah says simultaneously, as Owen does a double take, clearly trying to figure out what he’s missing. It dawns on him a moment later.

“Fell. ‘M fine,” Jamie shrugs.

“Must’ve been some fall,” Owen remarks, with a smirk that has Dani wary.

“Hm?” Jamie does not look up from the roll she’s buttering.

“You’re wearing Miss Clayton’s clothes,” Flora observes helpfully. Dani chokes on her water. Shit. How could she have missed that?

To her credit, Jamie continues without faltering. “Tripped, landed in a mud puddle, and I didn’t have a change of clothes in the truck. Miss Clayton was nice enough to loan me hers.”

Well, the first part, at least, is true. Dani pinches herself for not asking if Jamie had her own clothes to change into. Even if she does look divine in the free t-shirt they gave Dani when she started teaching.

Owen seems skeptical, but, blessedly, he drops the subject in favor of animatedly recounting the story of their baking adventures that afternoon.

Hannah catches them after dinner, just as Dani is preparing to send the children to bed. “Will you be staying the night, Jamie? In the unfortunate event your injury acts up, of course,” she says with a mirthful wink.

Jamie looks to Dani for an answer, her mouth moving but no words coming out.

“Yes,” Dani decides for them.

“I’m assuming I won’t need to make up the guest bedroom for you?”

“Oh, um, no, thanks. That won’t be necessary.” Dani isn’t sure why she’s blushing. It’s not as if the whole manor doesn’t know about them. They’d tried hiding at first, sneaking about and slipping into dark corners like teenagers. They were not very good at it.

Later, with Miles and Flora safely asleep and Owen and Hannah having taken their leave for the evening, Jamie returns to Dani’s bed, this time with Dani sliding in behind her. Dani nuzzles into her back, careful not to touch any sore areas.

“I know I was an idiot,” Jamie’s voice cuts nervously through the darkness, “but, ah, just wanted to say thanks. For caring about me. Not really...not really used to that.”

Dani can feel her entire body tense. She presses tender kisses along Jamie’s back. “Of course,” she murmurs, and she hopes her conviction comes across. “Always.” She hesitates. “You’re not wrong about being an idiot, though,” Dani giggles.

“You like it.” It’s not meant to be a question, though Jamie’s voice wavers.

“I do,” Dani confirms affectionately, “I do.”

Jamie relaxes against her.

[shewholovestoread]

Hi, thank you for your analysis they’re good :). What so you think about the it’s LA I’m sure there was traffic scene? Because for me GIGI kind of let her of the hook easy. That was inconsiderate of Dani. I was curious about your opinion for that scene. Thank you :)

Hi Anon, sorry about the delay, was down with damn covid (though since it was omicron, all my tests were negative, so go figure)

A little background: Dani has had a rough day, the CAC endowment that she thought was sorted is back to blowing in her face, Bette and Pippa have rallied their supporters and forced the CAC to backtrack. Gigi and Dani were supposed to attend Eli's recorder concert but Dani forgot and instead of telling Gigi that she lost track of time, lies and says that she's stuck in traffic and won't be able to make it.

The scene starts with Gigi and Dani at Dani's home, they're getting ready for dinner, going over their day and then we get to this shot:

I think this exchange is important because while Dani did lie, there's no indication from her face or body language that she messed up, in the sense that she forgot to continue the lie. It seems that she just had a long day and decided to tell Gigi the truth rather than continue lying. It doesn't matter much in the scheme of things but it's important nonetheless because she could have just stuck to her story and avoided everything that follows.

I also want to draw attention to Gigi's expression, her expressions around Dani are usually very soft so seeing this hardness on her is rather obvious that she is indeed pissed off. Gigi's a devoted mother, she absolutely adores her kids and takes that responsibility very seriously, I don't think, inviting Dani for the recorder concert was something she did without thought. Because Dani is turned away from her, she doesn't see this shift in her expression.

Dani still hasn't sensed the shift in mood, when Gigi asks her, "So you lied to me?" She's being flippant in her response, I don't think she means any of this out of malice or disregard, she's just trying to joke, hoping to dispel any tension that might arise. She doesn't get serious till Gigi says, " Do you want to hurt me?" This is in stark contrast to her fights with Sophie (those two were horrible when it came to communication) Instead of beating around the bush or attacking Dani, which would have immediately made her defensive, Gigi instead lays out the consequences of her seemingly 'small lie', that it was hurtful, she hurt Gigi's feelings.

Now and this is the important part, it's the way Gigi tells Dani that her actions were shitty without launching into a verbal attack. She acknowledges that Dani's been having a tough time and reiterates her support for her but tells her, in no uncertain terms that she's not going to be a punching bag for Dani to lash out at when she's having a bad day. Also, at no point does she raise her voice, she's still speaking TO Dani, not AT her and that's an important distinction. She's telling Dani why her actions hurt her while affirming that she does care about her.

This is followed by this:

A sincere apology from Dani who looks decidedly sorry about her actions and that she hurt someone she cares about. This is one of the things that I love about Dani when she's with Gigi, she makes mistakes and does mess-up but she actively apologises and means them. She's not just saying the words, she puts in the work and does better.

When Gigi crosses the table, it looks like she's about to leave, except she doesn't. She stands in front of Dani and pulls her in for a hug and just holds her. Even though they've just had a fight, Gigi doesn't withhold her affection from Dani. She told Dani that her behaviour was hurtful, Dani apologised, Gigi accepted that apology and they moved on, there's no need to keep flogging a dead horse.

A hallmark of any relationship is how well the people within it communicate with each other and with Gigi and Dani, their ability and willingness to be open and honest with each other is what sets them apart from the other couples on the show. They're willing to be vulnerable with one another especially when it isn't easy.

I can understand Anon's question about whether Gigi let Dani off the hook too easily. We've become accustomed to seeing screaming matches and blow-out fights between couples in the pursuit of "realism", couples who spend the whole duration of their argument actively shouting at each other and reaching no solution at the end of the ordeal. Gigi and Dani had a difficult but needed conversation in a mature way where they each communicated their grievances, heard each other out and then moved on as you're supposed to. That's the healthy way of dealing with conflict.

[dontbipanicjonsa]

Been thinking about Dark!D*ny and

I think for me, it comes down to two things:

The utter hypocrisy re: her supposed abolitionist ways

The escalation of her power and the destruction she wreaks

Because I can't really fault her for smothering Drogo. I can't really fault her for letting Viserys die. I can't really fault her for murdering the shit out of Kraznys. I can't fault her for freeing slaves (as if). I can't even fault her for wanting revenge.

Let me explain-

I think if we compare the capture of the Lhazareen and the capture of Meereen, it paints a very clear picture of where D*ny is headed.

The Lhazareen

Ok. First, the whole 'D*ny has no power' argument has to stop. She's the khaleesi. Her husband is the khal. Of course she has power.

I'm NOT saying Drogo isn't absolutely monstrous to her. I'm not saying she chose to marry him. I'm not commenting on their relationship at all.

In a patriarchy, (upper class) women gain property/power/control over others in exchange for sexual/reproductive service. So D*ny, simply by virtue of being the khal's wife, or simply because she's pregnant with his kid (neither of which were her choice) has power.

For comparison, Cersei, who is abused by her husband, the king, still derives power from her position as Queen and mother of the princes/princess. See what I mean?

?? Drogo decides they're gonna sail to Westeros and gives his rousing speech because D*ny was almost assassinated. The attack on the Lhazareen was done in service of D*ny's conquest of Westeros. Let's repeat.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

The Lhazareen were attacked to further D*ny's interests.

No, it wasn't for Rhaego, he's a fucking foetus he doesn't HAVE interests. It's not for Drogo, he doesn't give two shits about Westeros. IT"S FOR D*NY. And that is her 'power' in action. Her power, that she derives through her husband, because PatRiarChy. But power.

And you know what? Sure. It's fine. She didn't know what a bloodbath it was going to be. That's not her fault. And yeah, she IS ready to accept the bloodshed as necessary collateral. That is...a bit more questionable. But she does try to help some women.

Does she only help them because she can see their suffering? Probably. There's plenty of suffering not in her direct line of sight that she allows. But ok. Sure. It's not her job to save everyone (nevermind that they're suffering to further her interests).

The whole 'save them by marrying them to their rapists' thing makes me more sad than enraged. It's tragic. It's D*ny, making women marry their rapists in the same book where she married her rapist...thinking she's ok, thinking they would be ok too. It's the cycle of abuse in motion, right before our eyes.

This is an explanation I accept. All that bullshit about how powerless D*ny is? Pls. Women and children are being enslaved right there on the same page, so D*ny can win the IT, and she's powerless ?? stfu

Ok. I get it. She's not powerless, but how far does her power extend? COULD she have gotten away with getting all the newly enslaved Lhazareen freed? We'll never know. Does that absolve her?

Slaves, Dany thought. Khal Drogo would drive them downriver to one of the towns on Slaver's Bay. She wanted to cry, but she told herself that she must be strong. This is war, this is what it looks like, this is the price of the Iron Throne.

NO.

This- the capture and enslavement of the Lhazareen people- is a direct consequence of Viserys' ambitions, which is a torch that D*ny has now willingly taken up. THAT ^^^ is a price she's willing to pay, or rather- make others pay.

Buuuut it's fine. She's inexperienced, and her power is certainly limited, and hey she tried. Sure. Moving on.

Meereen

(TW: mentions of rape)

Fast forward four books and D*ny is approximately 100x times more powerful than she was in the Lhazareen scene. Let's see how she does now-

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dressed up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father's household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father's house, and the other had joined the queen's soldiers as one of the Mother's Men. He wanted them both hanged.

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

xxx

A former slave came, to accuse a certain noble of the Zhak. The man had recently taken to wife a freedwoman who had been the noble's bedwarmer before the city fell. The noble had taken her maidenhood, used her for his pleasure, and gotten her with child. Her new husband wanted the noble gelded for the crime of rape, and he wanted a purse of gold as well, to pay him for raising the noble's bastard as his own. Dany granted him the gold, but not the gelding. "When he lay with her, your wife was his property, to do with as he would. By law, there was no rape." Her decision did not please him, she could see, but if she gelded every man who ever forced a bedslave, she would soon rule a city of eunuchs.

SO anyway how is D*ny rating on the 'tried to prevent rape' scale?

She even went so far as to summon Irri, hoping her caresses might help ease her way to rest, but after a short while she pushed the Dothraki girl away. Irri was sweet and soft and willing, but she was not Daario.

Oh look she's in the negative :/

How's she doing on the slavery front? She's got all the power now...

"Your slave Missandei." Jhiqui had a taper in her hand.

"My servant. I have no slaves." Dany did not understand. "Why does she weep?"

xxx

There was no slavery in the free city of Pentos. Nonetheless, they were slaves.

...

D*enerys spends five books gaining power. How does this affect the condition of her people? Is the condition of the Meereenese better than the condition of the Lhazareen had been, all the way back in the first book? No. It's worse.

People have still been raped. People have still been enslaved/remained enslaved. People have starved. People have been brutally murdered. And at a much larger scale than book 1.

This is what it comes down to. D*ny is a villain because her climb to power is characterized by death and destruction, always. Isn't that the trademark of a villain?

D*ny is a girl who truly believes in her own PR, but when you look at her words and actions-

"The Good Master has said that these eunuchs cannot be tempted with coin or flesh," Dany told the girl, "but if some enemy of mine should offer them freedom for betraying me . . ."

"They would kill him out of hand and bring her his head, tell her that," the slaver answered. "Other slaves may steal and hoard up silver in hopes of buying freedom, but an Unsullied would not take it if the little mare offered it as a gift. They have no life outside their duty. They are soldiers, and that is all."

xxx

"No," she pleaded. "Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …"

...how much of her actions are truly altruistic? How much is performative?

Despite her anti-slavery rhetoric, D*ny consistently benefits from slavery- and slavery flourishes.

Despite her 'oh no I don't wanna bring death and destruction anywhere', her actions continue to bring exactly that- and it never stops her from doing it all over again the next time.

Not to dismiss her internal struggle. But really. Being upset at the thought that you might be a bad person doesn't make you a good person. For that matter, being worried if you're going mad or not...doesn't mean you're not (not that I'm saying she is). Seriously, where did that logic even come from? Ultimately, her internal struggle makes her a more compelling character, sure, but it doesn't actually make her a better person.

The point is, her story is absolutely rooted in hypocrisy. Her destructiveness only escalates with her power. Her so-called good intentions never pan out- because her own actions undermine them. And because she has the self-awareness of a pigeon, she never gets better.

She IS the villain who thinks she's a hero. She isn't just a villain because she's done bad things, but because she's utterly unaware (or deliberately obtuse) of the bad things she's done, and so she's incapable of learning, and so she's only getting worse.

Take a step outside her POV and it suddenly becomes clear.

Let's recap.

D*ny has-

Wayy more power in Meereen. Less in Lhazareen

D*ny did-

Less to prevent rape in Meereen. More in Lhazareen

D*ny benefitted from-

Slavery in Meereen. Slavery in Lhazareen

D*ny was-

A slaver in Meereen. A slaver in Lhazareen

D*ny wreaked-

Death and destruction in Meereen. Death and destruction in Lhazareen.

D*ny, riding high on her power-

Ordered the murder of children. And much more.

Power is NOT good for D*ny.

[esther-dot]

Uff! You were being extra nice to that person that commented on your post. I wish I were that nice to Targ stans.

I am beginning to pity them though. It sounds like they are at the last stages of dispair if they have to ask why is GRRM writing a story like that?

GRRM has said over and over a hero is a villain on the other side, he is writing an anti-war story and has compared the dragons to nukes.

Is it heartbreaking that a girl who was sold and raped and abused is choosing to become like her ancestors? Like her abusive brother? That she chooses to conquer because ruling bores her?

Is it sad she has no home to come back to? Is it sad she is not wanted at Westeros and she will loose everything trying to conquer what her father lost?

Maybe, and you can feel heartbroken for her (I don’t. I stopped feeling sympathy for her in book 1 when she murdered Mirri after she forced her to help the Khal and then blamed her when they didn’t follow her instructions).

But as heartbreaking as it could be for some, honey, this is the story he is writing, don’t read it if you don’t like it but stop being in denial about it.

(in reference to this post)

You're right. In some circles the argument has shifted from "Dany would never" to "what the heck does that mean if she does burn KL?" (Not for my friend who insists dragons are not a threat to smallfolk and that Targs were great for them etc etc)

That's really interesting considering that for years and years the idea that book Dany would burn KL was mocked. The next step is to realize that even if up until that point she is presented as a very sympathetic character, the narrative will never absolve her for that.

I think that's what upsets Dany stans when we throw around the term "villain" because that carries moral condemnation. They can accept all of her actions, including her burning KL, as long as she is still a hero, but they really hate the idea that she won't die as one. And, as you pointed out, Martin is anti war. He is never going to let Dany fire bomb a city and act like it's ok, so they haven't reconciled themselves to that yet.

I understand losing all sympathy for Dany because Mirri's death is horrific to read, and the racism in her storyline is a lot. I don't think Martin wants us to disengage with Dany's struggles/her feelings, but there are some moments that just totally kill all sympathy we have for a character, and the author's affection for her can't win us back.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Max Dennison

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You met Max after he moved to Salem. The two of you were in the same History class and sat fairly close to each other. Because of this; and the fact that you’re drop dead gorgeous, he quickly developed a crush on you.

- It doesn’t take long for him to shoot his shot but there is a period in time where he’s waiting for the right moment to say something and just doing the typical “I have a crush on you” things.

- When Max has a crush, he’ll do whatever he can to see them more; making sure he’s behind them on his bike as they begin to walk home, sneaking glances at them in class, strategically sitting at a lunch table where he’ll be able to watch them or standing close to their locker.

- Once he’s had enough of just watching, he’ll move on to using any excuse he can to seem cool and/or talk to them. This is usually when he begins to come up with a plot to ask them out and it’s not long after that he actually does so.

- Max asks you out only about a week or so after he moves to Salem. He was just planning on giving you his phone number or asking if you’d like to hang out sometime but things didn’t really go as planned.

- He’d wanted to go out and explore the town by himself but his parents forced him to take Dani with him while they continued to unpack. So, he begrudgingly let his sister join him on his adventure, figuring that the worst that could happen was her slowing him down and slightly annoying him.

- They’d gotten a good ways into town without a hitch; besides Dani forcing him to pick flowers, and Max had just about let his guard down. Well, that was until he saw you.

- He immediately froze in place, greeting you in surprise as you just so happened to turn and spot them. Dani immediately connected the dots as to who you were, she’d heard her brother secretly fawn over you more than once.

- It was only after you glanced down at his hand that Max remembered he was holding his sisters wildflower bouquet. He laughed nervously, raising his hand a bit and trying to make himself seem less like a loser as he explained he was looking after his little sister …and her flowers.

- While Dani is undoubtedly an adorable sweetheart, she is also somewhat devious. She uses this delightful coincidence to get her way, mentioning that Max was “just about to take her to the park”. He was just about ready to kill her before you chimed in.

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Bingo.

- He immediately acted as though that was the plan all along and invited you to join them while Dani smiled at her obvious success. A cute boy asking you to go to the park with him and his little sister, why wouldn't you agree?

- So you joined the two of them, laughing and watching on fondly as he played with Dani and getting to know each other more and more whenever she went off to do something on her own. You wound up staying there for hours and probably would have stayed even longer if Dani hadn’t mentioned that her feet hurt and that she was tired. 

- If Max had learned anything at all, he learned that you thought it was cute when he was nice to his sister, so he offered her a piggyback ride as the three of you walked home. When you arrived at your house, he set Dani down and walked you to your door. 

”Well, if you ever want to go to the park again, you know who to call.” He smiled, handing you his number before joining back with his sister. 

“Dani? Have I ever told you that I loved you?” The little girl couldn't help but smile at her goofy older brother. 

- The two of you had your first actual date a few days later. He took you to the movies, then to go get some ice cream, and finally you wound up back at the park you’d gone to, sitting on the swing and eating your dessert. 

- He told you that you had something on your face, smiling as he leant in and kissed the corner of your mouth before slowly making his way to your lips. 

- It was in that moment; with your lips pressed against his, that Max thought to himself maybe Salem wasn’t so bad after all. 

- Innocent pda all the time. He just can’t help himself when you’re standing right there and looking so adorable.

- Handholding whenever you can. You swear he’s gonna learn how to be ambidextrous with how much he wants to keep your hand in his.

- Soft, chaste kisses.

- Cheek kisses. He can never hold back a smile when you give him one.

- He likes keeping his arm around your waist while you walk together. He likes how perfectly you fit into his side.

- Tight hugs. He does that thing where you give the person a squeeze and sorta sway with them while you hug, it’s very nice.

- Hugs from behind. He always presses a kiss to your head before he pulls away.

- This boy literally daydreams about cuddling his crush; he’d adore cuddling you anytime, anyplace. He usually wants to be the big spoon but he’d be up for any type of snuggling.

- He leans his head on yours whenever you rest your head on his shoulder.

- Hanging out with him in his widows walk, stargazing or watching the sunset/sunrise.

- He really doesn’t care what the two of you do as long as you’re together.

- Typical teenager dates: going bowling or roller skating, watching movies, getting pizza or ice cream; things like that.

- He tries to make you laugh with little impressions and exaggerative comedic routines.

- Getting teased a lot. He’ll pop out from behind corners to spook you, jokingly mock you and your little superstitions, and attack you from behind, wrapping his arms around you and growling while nuzzling his face into your neck. He thinks your reactions are cute.

- Watching him play his drums. Sometimes he’ll try and teach you how to play, othertimes he’ll just try to show off.

- He really wants you to think he’s cool and to be in awe of him. He’s constantly trying to show off and peacock for your attention.

- He’s quite fond of nicknames and pet names. He uses special ones though, something uniquely you.

- He keeps your photo framed on his nightstand or tucked under his pillow. He kisses it like every morning and night, occasionally talking to it when you’re mad at him or when he doesnt know what to do in a situation. It’s cute ...in an odd way.

- He’s in awe of you everytime he sees you dressed up or after a long time of not seeing each other. Sometimes he just can’t believe how beautiful you are.

- The amount of doodles he’s made of you while in class couldn’t even fit in a normal sketchbook.

- Dani is always interrupting the two of you, busting into his room and jumping between you as you sit on his bed or forcing her way between you two on the couch. She winds up accompanying you on a few of your dates, especially when his parents are busy. He can’t say he’s completely upset about it though, he likes watching you interact with her.

- You and her are probably best friends and occasionally hang out on your own without Max. She’s definitely spilled some embarrasing facts/secrets about Max whether one front of him or not.

- He’s sort of embarrassed by his family and their shenanigans. He turns bright red whenever they start acting all excited/childish. You cant imagine his relief when you assure him that you think its cute.

- He has a little sister so even though he’s a fairly typical teenage boy; he has that “I actually respect females” mindset. To an extent of course, he still can’t help but think about your yabbos from time to time.

- There isn’t a lot that grosses him out anymore since he was already a little grown up by the time his parents had Dani. He had to go through all those yucky baby phases so he has no problem holding your hair as you puke, bandaging your cuts, dealing with periods, wiping dirt off of you, and so on. Life’s gross, he’s accepted that a long time ago.

- Standing up for him. He finds it both embarrassing and touching at the same time.

- Letting him rant to you about how much he misses LA. He always absentmindedly adds on that you’re the only good thing to come out of Salem and it never fails to make you melt.

- Comforting him. He has a tendency to blame himself when things go wrong or work himself into a fit when something bad happens. You try to make sure he doesn't while also making him feel better. He’s always there for you when you need it as well.

- He’s a sweetheart and an adorable one at that. He’s always trying to make you feel better whenever he can and; overall, just being super nice to you. Making sure you’re happy is very important to him.

- He’s got a hard time keeping his mouth shut; he just cant help but say what he wants and not inconspiciously or very quietly either. You’ll oftentimes have to get him out of a situation before he starts more trouble than there has to be.

- Bringing out the best in each other.

- He sends a glance your way whenever someone mentions lovers, couples, or otherwise romantic things. It’s sort of like he’s saying “yeah, I’ve got one of those” or making future plans for the two of you in his head.

- Riding your bikes together or walking alongside him while he purposefully keeps pace with you on his.

- Going on stupid little adventures. They may be a bit reckless but they sure are fun.

- He’s somewhat of a pushover. He can very rarely resist your pleading/puppy dog eyes, especially when its combined with affection. You could genuinely stop him in his tracks with a single touch.

- You’ve definitely convinced him to let you put a face mask on him, braid his hair or do his makeup. Dani may or may not have been present or at least walked in on the two of you. She has not let him live it down since.

- He’s not scared of the supernatural; at least not yet, or spiders/insects, so he leaps at the chance to “protect you”. He tells you to “fear not” as he “vanquishes the beast”, delicately pushing you behind him and killing the thing or calling out to whatever ghouls may be lurking around.

- He insists in walking you home, mainly because it gives him the chance to spend more time with you.

- A trait he’s developed as an older brother is being protective of his loved ones. He won’t let anything happen to you; if he can help it, and usually has a pretty good plan when trying to get you out of trouble.

- He’s not an extremely jealous person. People being outwardly flirty or interested in you would tick him off but he reasons that you want him, not them and then he’s fine. Old boyfriends don’t bother him either, he’s your new and improved boyfriend; what would you want with them.

- He lashes out when he’s upset so you’ve definitely had your fair share of fights though they never last for very long. He immediately feels bad when he notices he’s actually hurt you and does whatever he can to apologize.

- He starts off with a genuine apology before he trying to explain himself, making a few little comments to try and get you to smile afterwards. Once you seem to forgive him, he shyly opens his arms and smiles as you go to hug him.

- He tells you that he loves you a lot; he just can’t help it. Everything you do makes him want to shout it out to the world.

- Prior to meeting you, he didn’t want to go to Salem at all, but now that he has you? He can’t bring himself to even think about leaving it.

[magalidragon]

6! I’ve been loving everyone doing these prompts!

Aw, yay! I knew instantly which universe to set this in, as well as what would happen, so I hope you enjoy this return to grinning & grumpy, aka Hockey Player Grouch Jon and Bubbly Happy Dany!  

Romantic One-Liner Prompts

6. “Being happy, fortunately coincides with making you happy.”

“I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“It’s easy.”

Dany huffed, her knuckles white under the layer of her cashmere gloves, gripping the red edge of the ice rink wall circling her.  Initially, she was slightly offended that he hadn’t seen fit to bring them out onto the actual rink, but now, her feet resting upon narrow blades and a very hard, very cold surface, designed to be as slick as possible and when it wasn’t, filled with dangerous sharp gooves and divots that could tear into your skin, if you were not wearing proper padding.

The red leather leggings she’d chosen that morning, with her favorite oversized black cashmere sweater and black puffy coat did not consistute proper padding.  She was regretting this entire thing, when she’d agreed to Jon’s declaration that he ahd a surprise for her and would it please him if she could wear a black scarf around her eyes for a moment?

She agreed, thinking it was some new kinky thing they could test out, but nope.  He’d brought her straight to the ice rink.  The practice rink.  The children’s practice rink.  “This is a mistake,” she threw over hers houlder, still not letting go.  “I enver should have agreed to this!”

“Oh come off it, you’re fine.”  

“Says the professional hockey player!”

Indeed, her grump was skating easily around the rink, lapping her every two seconds, more comfortable on the ice than he was off of it, and he’d put on his gloves and was holding his stick, tossing about the biscuit with Edwina, who was laughing at her and pointing, looping her too.  “It’s fun Dany!” the little girl shouted, in her pink pads and pink hockey skates, a pink helmet strapped over her head.  

“Where do I get one of those?” she asked.

Jon lapped her again.  “One what?”

“A helmet.”

“Oh you’re fine.”

“You wear one!”

“Because I have six-foot, five-inch, 250 pound defensemen trying to beat the ever-loving shit out of him with their stick and blades,” he explained, popping the puck onto his stick and watching it bounce a moment before he dropped it down to the ice, sending it rocketing down the rink towards Edwina, who easily took it and shot it into the small kid’s size goal at the end.

Edwina shouted, throwing her hands into the airs.  “She shoots!  She scores!”

“Not a difficult thing to do with no one here!”

“Oh shut up Uncle Jon!”

“You shut up!”

“No you!”

Dany passed them, her feet slightly more comfortable underneath her now.  She let go of the rink with one hand, feeling better now and pushed off here and there, giggling.  It wasn’t so bad.  She glanced over to Jon, who was msiling at her, lazily crossing over to join her, his hand outstretched.  She gently placed hers in his; even through her gloves his skin was cool, despite his gloves on a moment ago.  She let him tug her away, her knees trembling.  “Ah!”

He shook his head, clicking his tongue, eyebrows lifting.  “No, none of that, just trust yourself.”

“Jon, I’m wearing sharp razors on my feet on ice.”

“That’s how you can stand, come on, just trust me.”

She trusted him with her life, letting him pull her closer to his chest, his hand still in hers, and she allowed him to pull her along, while he skated backwards, taking her around the ice, around and around, in relaxing laps, her mind going blank, focusing on the warmth from his chest, the slight puffs of his breath, and the cool breeze on her face wafting off the ice.

It was a nice surprise, one she suspected he’d done to cheer her up.  Daario had decided, after he’d been traded from the Wolves, to go on a press blitz that included trashing her as much as possible in the papers and on talk shows, going on about how she’d used him to get the job with the Wolves—not true—cheated on him with Jon—definitely not true—and currently was in a fit of depression because not only was she without him, but her meal ticket boyfriend had decided that he would retire from the Wolves after the end of the season—the only thing true about that was Jon deciding to retire from the Wolves after the end of the season.  

It had been a hard call to make, but he wanted to go out on his own terms, not because a bad check forced it out of him.  He had done what needed to be done to heal his shoulder enough to get back out there, to be the all-star centre he was.  She loved him more and more, every second, and was so grateful to have him in her life.  Daario’s shitty moves hadn’t affected her at all, until he decided to bring up some extremely personal details, personal details she regretted ever sharing with him.

Dany could only be so happy in public, but this was enough to bring her down, and when the roles switched—Jon was the smiling one in the relationship—the press had picked up on it and there was only so much even she could take.  She’d been fairly down lately.  

And Jon Snow was picking her back up.

Also literally, literally picking her up.

“Put me down!” she laughed, when he hoisted her up off the ice, spinning in a circle with her in his arms.  

He laughed, keeping a tight grip on her, skating backwards, her legs now around his hips.  “And why would I do that?”

“You drop me on my arse and I will kill you!”

“I’m not going to drop you on your arse, I am a <i>professional</i> hockey player.”

She tightened her grip around his neck, smiling down at him, his often-scowling face pulling into a relaxed grin.  “A hockey player, not a pairs figure skater.”

“Perhaps that can be my second career.”

“And who will be your partner?”

He set her down on the ice, holding her hands, and carefuly glided her around in a circle; it was shaky, but it was the barest hint of a spin.  She shrieked, amazed she hadn’t fallen down, and he pulled her back into his arms.  “You, of course.”

“I don’t know about that.”  

They skated around, her feet far more comfortable now, even willing to test the ability to push off the ice on her own, but still keeping his hand tight in hers.  Circling around and around, she noticed that Edwina had left, along with the hockey goal.  She peered up at Jon, who didn’t think a thing about it.  “What?” he wondered, at her frown.

“Wehre did Edwina go?”

On cue, the lights dimmed, bright rainbow ones flashing around lazily on the ice, like a disco globe, and music started, soft jazz that she normally played in her apartment when she wanted a hot bath, usually preferring hard rock or rap or hip-hop for everything else.  “What on earth…,” she wondered, gazing around, and then to Edwina, who was on the other side of the plexiglass, waving and giggling.  She burst into laughter.  “What did she do!?”

Jon feigned disgust.  “That little shit!”

Even the great grouch Jon Snow couldn’t hide the little curve in his lips, the smile winning out after she jabbed her elbow into his gut.  He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, sheepish.  “Wanted to do something nice.  This is nice, right?”

He was so nervous about it, she pushed into him, knocking him slightly off balance.  She gasped, faltering, terrified of falling, but his arm shot out to wrap around her wist, keeping her on her feet—or blades—regaining his balance too.  She maintained her arms around him, nodding, smiling wide.  “Yes, it is very nice.”  She paused, whispering.  “Thank you.”

They continued to skate around, with him letting go of her to have her try some strokes out on her own, a couple of bobbles here and there, but she was able to do it, eventually skating right into his arms, her face pressing into his Winterfell Wolves hoodie.  She sighed, eyes closing, and he spun her around a few times, at home on the ice, and sharing that home with her, in a way that made her think, her eyes flicking up to his.  

He was still smiling, softly to himself, and she turned so her back was to his chest, his chin dropping to her shoulder, keeping her skates between his as he pushed her along with his momentum.  “Jon,” she whispered, hands tight on his.  

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re very happy.  I’m glad for that.”  It was where she wanted him to be, a place where he could be satisfied with how things would turn out in his career, which she knew was very important to him, and also, he was letting what Daario said in the public roll right off his back, which was what she was doing now, pressing away all that initial hurt, because she was here with Jon, and that was where she was happiest.  Where it mattered most.  

He kissed her neck, his breath tickling her ear, husky and thick with emotion.  “Being happy, fortunately coincides with making you happy.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.  She turned her face up to his, grinning, and accepted the gentle kiss he touched to her lips.  “I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too.”  

They skated around for some time, how long she couldn’t say, but long enough for Edwina to grow bored wherever she was hiding and stomp out, banging her hockey stick on the ice and demanding a one-on-one with the All-Star, Highest-Scoring Centre in Westeros Hockey history.  

“Are we just gonna’ skate or are we gonna’ play some puck!?” she demanded.

Jon rolled his eyes.  “Oh shut it.  You don’t know what you’re talking about, you’re six!”

“I do so know and I’m gonna’ beat you!”

Dany kissed his cheek, giggling, and squeezed his hadns again.  “I think Jon, it would make me very happy if you taught your niece a bit of hockey now.”  She arched her brows, laughing at his pretend scowl, his gagging as she let go of him and carefully toddled over to the edge of the ice rink, clearly all for show.  She got off the ice and sat down on a bench, grinning and watching him play with his niece.

And very grateful she did not have to go back out there again.  Ice skating most definitely not for Daenerys, as happy as it did make Jon.

[hellsbellschime]

Do you think Jon hold some love and affection for Dany? It's hard to analyse as in s7 Jon suddenly started to fall for her after she came to rescue him when in previous episode he tell her they were strangers​. In s8 there was scene after dragon ride their first kiss was romantic before he got scared. In ep4 when Dany says she loves him the kiss was romantic. But otherwise the framing and chemistry was awful.

Honestly? No, not really. Jon’s character in the later seasons somehow managed to be both a clusterfuck and a snoozefest, but ultimately falling in love with Dany is just not something I think Jon would have ever been capable of.

I mean, the massively consistent aspects of Jon’s character that have always existed within him no matter what are that A. he loves his family more than anything, B. he has literally devoted his life to protecting the North, and C. he idolizes, wants to be like, and is more similar to Ned than any of the Stark children. So let’s think about that in the context of Jon’s meeting with Dany and his entire relationship with Dany. 

So Jon does something astoundingly stupid that no other king or queen would do, he goes to Dragonstone with zero information about Dany aside from the fact that she is incredibly powerful and about to invade Westeros/destroy the Lannisters. Taking down the Lannisters would be plus in Jon’s book, but I don’t know that that’s enough for him to not be massively concerned about her being an insanely powerful invader. He takes a horrible risk on the complete long shot that he can convince Dany to come North and save his family and his people, because that is how important it is to him. 

And what is Dany’s reaction to that? She not only says she won’t help unless he submits to her, someone who he literally just met who appears to be the most dangerous person on the planet in terms of raw power, but she literally takes him hostage despite the fact that Jon is so comparatively powerless. She immediately makes it clear that he’s a rebel and essentially that she’s probably not going to even let him leave until he bends the knee. And what’s worse (which is actually Tyrion’s fault but is something they never clarify and I can’t imagine Jon not loathing her for) is that he was brought there under false pretenses. The letter that Dany sent him inviting him to Dragonstone asked him to “join her to end Cersei’s tyranny,” he didn’t hear shit about bending the knee immediately until he met Dany and literally five seconds after he walked into the room she demanded that he bend the knee. 

At this point it’s not as if Jon doesn’t understand political theater at this point, but right off the bat Dany breaks every rule of Westerosi custom and imprisons a literal king to demand that he submit to her or let EVERYTHING HE LOVES DIE while he’s a helpless prisoner. This is the FIRST thing Jon ever learns about Dany. And while Tyrion says that he’s being unreasonable for expecting immediate help and expecting to be believed, it’s like yeah except LITERALLY THE WHOLE ASS REASON HE’S HERE is because Melisandre showed up and was like yo you gotta talk to this kid Jon Snow he’s seen some wild shit and then when he shows up and is like “I’ve seen some wild shit” everyone’s like well clearly you’re insane so we’re putting you in a time out until you return to sanity and bend the knee to a complete stranger. Also not to fucking mention, unless nobody on the island ever brings this shit up, Jon also immediately learns what kind of an ally Dany is because every one of Dany’s other allies is either killed or CAPTURED and she’s just like well bummer for them guess I have to accept that as a loss or wait for them to rescue themselves even though I have three dragons and the biggest army in the world and instead of saving them I can just try to force this new guy to become my “ally” instead (and if the whole political motivation for Jon’s relationship with her stems from this it would make complete sense because he should already know that even those who submit to Dany don’t get her protection or assistance if it doesn’t serve her purpose, so he HAS to get her to feel like he’s more than just her ally).

And despite being obsessed with his bastardy, Jon values nothing more than he values his family, and Dany constantly undervalues, insults, or completely writes off Jon’s family. I actually think that’s understandable from Dany’s perspective because she only knows of familial abuse, but there is no world in which I can believe Jon would take her ignoring the fact that Robb literally died to free his people, or implying that Ned was cool with goddamn child murder, or accusing Sansa of being an evil schemer because she’s angling to keep the North free very well, and two of those three things are things she does the first time she ever speaks to Jon. 

And finally, Jon wants to BE Ned. That is literally the person he has admired and emulated more than anyone, to the point where it’s almost an unhealthy obsession for him. Jon knows that Ned would choose to do the right thing over pretty much everything else. Jon knows that Ned is the type of person who would die saving the children of his enemies. I cannot fathom a world in which he would even consider loving anyone who let thousands of innocent people die for their own political gains. But again, Daenerys makes it clear the very first time that he meets her that that’s what is happening right now. She’s willing to use “her kingdom” as a political pawn that she won’t have a second thought about sacrificing in order to gain Jon’s submission. I think there was a chance that he could have truly liked her or even loved her if she just hadn’t come in so insanely hot the very first time that they met, but frankly the very first moment that they meet she shows Jon that she is exactly like Cersei, she will literally use an existential threat to all life as a tool to her political advantage regardless of the fact that it is a fucking EXISTENTIAL THREAT TO ALL LIFE. 

So I think no, there is zero chance that Jon could ever love a person like that, and I think that legit the minute that he met her he put himself in a completely political mindset and was willing to do whatever he had to do to get Dany to actually help him. I just cannot imagine a world in which Jon freaking Snow would even feel a shred of respect or non-dislike towards someone who would do that, let alone liking them or loving them, and I sincerely think that within their first conversation Dany ensured that Jon would never have any real feelings for her. I understand why so many people are confused by their relationship because it is confusing as fuck, but I actually feel like D&D very absurdly overtly put so much shit that Jon would absolutely loathe into their relationship straight off the bat that regardless of anything that happened afterwards I just cannot fathom Jon Snow essentially overlooking every single thing he hates or has no respect for in this world to realize that Dany is actually the one true benevolent queen, or even a halfway likable person in his eyes. 

[not-playable-character]

Edit: new link https://archiveofourown.org/works/32099263

ITS DONE!!!!  Finally, the RE8 meets RE7 fic is finished and posted!  so for everyone wondering and if you didn't figure it out already. The image I posted earlier is the seating arrangement of the gang as they play the game.  As always its posted on AO3 and under the cut.  I hope you enjoy @ibest14 I never actually played RE7 but I watched a walkthrough to write this.

It was a normal Saturday afternoon when the Winters family got a very strange package.  It was addressed to the whole family and had no return address.

“What the heck is this?” Rose wondered aloud carrying the small package inside, “Hey mom! Did you order something online?”

“Not that I remember, why?” Mia asked curious why her daughter was asking about the mail, “Who is it addressed to? Maybe your dad ordered something.” She went and stood next to Rose to look at the package.

“Hmm, I think we should wait for dad to get home to open it, I mean it is addressed to all of us.” Mia agreed with her daughter and went to continue making dinner.

Ethan got home a few hours later and was greeted by his daughter with a warm hug, “Haha, hey there kid how was your day?” He asked returning the hug and picking Rose up.

“It was good! We got a weird package in the mail, mom and I decided to wait for you before opening it.” Rose said leading him into the kitchen after he put her down.

“Welcome home, Hon! How was work?” Mia asked kissing Ethan on the cheek.

“Ugh, Williams was an absolute pain again.  He somehow unplugged all of his equipment and disconnected his computer from the ethernet cable again.” Ethan complained sitting down at the dinner table next to Rose. “Chris somehow changed his computer to Arabic and Sal’s computer was changed to have wingdings as the default language and it bricked the whole thing, he said it was an accident, but I think it was one of the dicks that keep harassing him.  I told Chris and he’s looking into it.” Ethan picked up the package and looked at the outside.

“Ugh why can’t these douchebags see that Sal is way better than them.  Probably just jealous of him.” Rose said frustrated at the harassment her uncle was receiving.

“We should invite him over for dinner sometime, lift his spirits some!” Mia suggested placing a glass of juice down for Ethan.  He agreed and thanked her for the juice.

Ethan handed the package back to Rose who tore into the packaging.  Inside was a video game box, “Resident Evil? Isn’t that a game from the nineties?” Rose asked confused.

Ethan leaned over to get a better look, “Yeah it is, I played almost all of them, but I’ve never seen that one.  It looks like its supposed to be the seventh one, but they only made six that I know of.” Ethan became confused taking the box from Rose studying it, it strangely didn’t have a back cover.

“Weird, maybe they are rebooting the series, but why wouldn’t there be a lot of news about it?” Rose asked.  Ethan’s face lit up at the possibility of a reboot of his favorite childhood series.

“Man, I hope so, I always loved Craig Bluemarsh and Leo C. Harrison.  They were the best!  The whole M.O.O.N.S squad from Badger City.  Special Ops turned paranormal investigators was the twist of the decade! And the whole thing with Egbert Walberk and how he possessed himself with countless demons to become basically a god.” Ethan sighs as he reminisces.

“You clearly have bad taste honey because Julie Easter was the best character in the series.  The ace of the M.O.O.N.S squad, the one that Walberk kidnapped to force demons into her with a mind control amulet.  Oh, and don’t forget Chloe Bluemarsh, college kid turned aid worker for those affected by the demons.” Mia added as she chopped vegetables for dinner.

“Ahh yes, how could I forget! Anyway, this looks like a cheap bootleg or fake.  Probably just a prank from Dani or Angie.”  Ethan said tossing the case further on the table looking upset.

“Aw man…. That’s lame dad.” Rose says dramatically throwing herself over the back of the chair.  “I’m keeping it anyway; the box looks cool.”

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A month after the whole package incident, Rose bursts into the house beaming.  “Dad, Uncle Chris just told me that we are having a meeting with the whole gang! We should totally bring that janky game we got and show it off!”

“Whoa, slow down Rose! You’re gonna hurt yourself running around like that.” Ethan says watching his daughter bounce in place.  “Why do you think we should bring that thing anyway? I doubt there will be anytime to just sit around and play a game, if it’s even real.”  Rose rolls her eyes at him.

“Dad, I’m sure Uncle Chris can pull some strings so we can have a little get together.  We never get to see each other all at once!” Rose states, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, “Don’t you want to see the gang, Dad. It would be so much fun.  You know how much I miss them all.” She begs.

Ethan can physically feel his resolve crumbling at his begging daughter, always caving into her once she pulls out the puppy eyes, “Fine, I’ll talk with Chris and we can bring the game with us, but you are responsible for the PlayStation and if it gets damaged or broken you have to buy the new one.” He says in his dad voice, trying to be stern.  Rose squeals and jumps into his arms hugging him.

“You’re the best dad ever!” She says running off to prepare for their long weekend at Blue Umbrella.

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“Ok, is everyone comfy, I’m about to start the game!” Rose said excitedly setting up the PS4 in the Blue Umbrella lounge room.  Everyone was present, Rose even convinced Miranda and Elena to join them after Milena was put to bed.

“I am unsure of what we are even doing sweet thing.” Alcina said settling into her chair near Donna.

“Well, I’m gonna play this weird game I got, maybe Dani can take over if I get tired.  We are just gonna check it out, if its good, Great! If not, we can make fun of how bad it is!” Rose explained sitting down on the couch wedged between Daniela, Angie, and Heisenberg with Bela and Cassandra on the floor in front of them.  Alcina wasn’t convinced that it would be fun, but she couldn’t deny Rose’s request considering how excited she looked.  She sighed and pulled out her reading glasses seeing the small text on the screen.

“Psh, what are you a grandma?” Heisenberg teased. Alcina growled at him.

“Oh, please grow up you child.” She replied trying to de-escalate the situation knowing Rose and her daughters hated when they argued.

“I see making your head bigger didn’t help your eyesight.” He continued to tease sensing her anger.

“I grew proportionally you ignoramus, becoming larger would not fix my farsightedness.” She growled out becoming angrier.

“Guys….” Rose said sadly at the two arguing.  Heisenberg immediately stopped his next sentence and turned to give Rose a side hug.

“Sorry kiddo, I forgot you hate it when we fight.  I’ll stop, I promise.”  He says sincerely as Alcina nods looking guilty, Rose smiles accepting their apologies.

“No more sappiness get to the action I’m getting bored!” Angie cried out from Daniela’s lap.  Rose rolls her eyes at the doll’s bratty attitude and begins the game.

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The game begins with a very familiar video to Ethan and Mia and the sight of Mia recording her warning message on the ship.

“What the…. How is this happening?  It showed the recording from my eyes, but I never recorded that…” Mia says stunned.

The next scene starts with the sound of a phone ringing and the overhead video of a car driving down a highway.  Ethan begins to speak to and unknown man in the voice over explaining how he was contacted by Mia and that she wants him to come and get her.

“This has to be a sick prank!  How did these people get that phone call!” Ethan shouts getting more and more upset as the clip plays. Mia places a hand on his arm to comfort him.

“Maybe there will be an explanation later.  There has to be….” Mia says trying to calm Ethan.

Rose pauses the game as it shifts to Ethan’s perspective in the car, “We don’t have to keep playing if this is making you guys uncomfortable.” She says to her parents.

Ethan takes a deep breath, “No, no… it’s fine, you were really excited for this.  I was just shocked.  I’m okay to keep going, as long as you are okay too Mia.”  She nods in agreement with her husband clearly rattled but pushing through.  Rose nods continuing the game as she walks Ethan through the thick Louisiana swamp towards the Baker house.

The first obstacle they encounter is a locked gate.  She moves him down a path leading to a trashed car with camera equipment scattered around it.  Looking in they find a scrip proposal for Sewer Gators Ep. 17.

They then come across a broken gate with a sign that says, “Accept Her Gift”, “Oh yeah definitely just walk through that incredibly ominous gate into the disgusting swamp.” Heisenberg says gesturing towards the screen, “I’d just say, ‘sorry lady I’m not that desperate for a wife’ and dip.”

“He has a point dad, I mean really its been three years.  Just move on.” Rose says to her father.

Ethan blushes, “Hey you can’t judge a man in love.  I had to know what happened.”

“Nah man, just accept the death bro.  Totally not worth it.” Daniela says interjecting.

“I’m right her you know.” Mia says scolding them.  Rose giggles and continues on.  They come across the remains of a fire with Mia’s purse laying there.  They then enter the Guest house finding it to be disgusting and in disrepair.

“God, I forgot how gross this place was.” Ethan says wrinkling his nose.

Rose looks around the living room area, finding a hidden chain that opens a hidden room they go through. Exploring further leads them into a flooded basement they are forced to crawl through.

“Oh, please Ethan, I know you are insanely stubborn but the corpse in the flooded basement should have been an indicator to leave immediately.” Alcina says as the dead body floats up in front of them.

“Ok, Ok I get it I’m a crazy person for going on, but can we please stop commenting on it.  I’m aware of the insanity.” Ethan replies as Rose comes up into a basement room with a jail cell containing Mia as well as other information on people who were listed as turned or dead.  They pick up the bolt cutters and break open Mia’s cell.  While they are being reunited Mia acts strangely warning him of the dangers and of Daddy.

“Pft, seriously? Daddy?” Dani snickers at Mia.

“Don’t start.  I was possessed by a child obsessed with family.” Mia says glaring at Dani.

Rose follows Mia through the basement where she and Ethan stop to talk about the last three years.

“Come on! This is a life or death situation, get a move on!” Cassandra yells out at the screen.

Rose continues to creep through the basement following Mia as Ethan learning more about her capture as they walk.  They come across a living room type area where Mia starts to act strangely, talking about family and when Ethan leaves, they hear her crash through the wall revealing a staircase to the house.  They move through the house looking for Mia.  They hear crashing coming from the stairs they came from and return to find Mia on all fours crawling up the stairs.  She attacks Ethan looking monstrous as she throws him back up with superhuman strength. She then attacks him with a knife stabbing him through the hand.  After a struggle she regains control rambling about a strange her as she slams her head against the wall.

“Jesus man, that is hard core…” Heisenberg says in awe. Mia grimaces at the memory.  Rose continues on wandering before they are attacked by Mia once again.  They fight her off with an axe.  “Ethan, my friend, you always have to double check that your enemy is dead.  She is definitely gonna get up again, classic horror trope.” Heisenberg says wisely.

“Karl, this actually happened.  I wasn’t thinking about ‘horror tropes’.  I was focusing on surviving.” Ethan says to him.

“Also, of course I’m going to get up, I’m sitting right here.  I’m clearly not dead.” Mia says exasperated.

Rose moves on with the game ignoring them and answers the phone that had begun to ring.  “Dad why did you answer the phone? Just leave.” She says as Zoe gives her warning to Ethan.  “Oh yeah let’s listen to the random phone lady and not just break a window.” She says rolling her eyes.

They move on solving the puzzle for the stairs catching a glimpse of the not at all dead Mia.  Replacing the fuse, they are jumped by Mia again who attacks him with a screwdriver pinning him to the wall before chopping his had off with a chainsaw.

“My god man! How did you keep going!” Sal exclaims looking at Ethan who just shrugs.

They find a pistol in one of the rooms and use it to take care of the attacking Mia as she rants crazily. Finally taking her down, they are ambushed by Jack Baker who punches him in the face.

“See I told you that you should have moved faster, now ‘Daddy’ caught you.” Cass says as Ethan falls over and is stomped on by Jack.  They see him being dragged and Mia being carried by Jack, the scene changes to Ethan strapped to a chair with Zoe staples his hand back on.  He finally fully awakes to a disgusting family dinner with the whole Baker family.

“Ugh, I miss Momma’s cooking so much.” Mia says reminiscing happily.  Everyone stares at her as they see the disgusting meal on the table in game.  She blushes, “Before she went fully crazy, she was an amazing cook.  Her gumbo was to die for, oh and Daddy’s fried chicken, mmm.”  She explains to them.  No one seems convinced as the scene continues with Lucas throwing food at him and Marguerite tries to get Ethan to eat, and Jack cuts off Lucas’ hand. Jack comes over and forces the rancid food into Ethan’s face as Marguerite rants and leaves angrily, Jack then cuts Ethan’s face before being interrupted by the doorbell.  They escape and flee through the house trying to find an exit. They find a key and are chased by Jack before escaping to the crawlspace.

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They explore the house before a police officer tries to ask Ethan questions.

“Man, that officer is kind of a dick…” Heisenberg says realizing how rude and unprofessional the officer is.

“He was a massive dick.” Ethan says frustrated at the memory of their interactions.  They make the way to the garage to meet the rude officer who refuses to take the situation seriously which leads to his death and Ethan’s continued entrapment.  “See, massive dick, we could have escaped, but noooo.” He says.

Rose nods in agreement as she avoids Jack in the garage and tries to defeat him with the car.  The car crashes and catches fire revealing an on fire Jack who is knocked down by the resulting explosion.  They collect the items in the room before climbing up the revealed ladder. Jack stops Ethan and shoots himself in the head with Ethan’s gun.

“I’ll say it again, he ain’t dead.  He’s coming back sooner or later.” Heisenberg says again.

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock. This game’s been full of tropes so far.” Cassandra responds to him rolling her eyes.

Rose continues on solving puzzles and making their way through the labyrinthine house avoiding the obviously not dead Jack and the molded that are scattered around the house. They see Jack mumbling to himself about being “her” and talking about how he is going to kill Ethan.

“God he’s so cool.” Dani says as he leaves the room getting looks from the others, “What? He’s a cool villain.”

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The fight with Jack was a bit of a struggle for Rose, but she made it through with Heisenberg, Dani, and Cass cheering her on.

When he finally exploded, both Heisenberg and Dani called out in joy, “Now that’s how you kill a villain!” Heisenberg shouted out with a laugh and high fived Dani over Rose’s head. As they make their way through the house again completing puzzles and finding Grandma in random places.

“She is the one who caused all this.” Alcina says pointing at Grandma.  Ethan and Mia looks shocked.

“How did you know that?” Mia asks. Alcina scoffs as if it is obvious.

“She hasn’t had the focus at all, yet she appears at random seemingly following Ethan, who we know is the next victim in mind.  She is clearly Eveline.”  She says smugly to everyone’s shocked faces.

Rose moved on ignoring the gloating.  She came across a trailer in the yard, exploring it revealed that it was Zoe’s home containing some useful items that she ignored moving to leave as the phone rang. Zoe explained about the mold and how to progress.

“Why are you so trusting of this woman, you don’t know her, and she has admitted that she is a part of the family trying to kill you?” Bela asked turning to face Ethan.  He opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out, he paused thinking and shrugged.  Bela rolled her eyes at him, “Typical man thing.” She mumbled out returning to her original position.

They move on to the old house and Marguerite just as Zoe instructed. Coming across baby dolls strung up from the rafters of the bridge.  “Whoever made those should be killed.” Donna said quietly.  Everyone looked at her confused.  “The look like such poor quality dolls, anyone who cares would never let them fall apart so easily.  Cheap plastic is the worst fate a doll can experience.” She explains confident.

“You aren’t upset at the fact that they are strung up, just that they suck?” Rose asks her.

“Of course, you can do what you like with them, but the craft must be respected.  These cheap factory made ones are a disgrace.”  Donna explains upset at the virtual dolls.  Rose mumbles an ok before moving on into the bug infested old house.  They make their way through the house avoiding mutant bugs and solving puzzles.

“Gotta say girls, these things really remind me of you three.” Heisenberg says as Rose burns her way through the nests of bugs.

“How dare you compare my girls to these disgusting things!  They are clearly superior in every way.” Alcina says angrily defending her girls.

“Thank you, mother, but he has a bit of a point.” Bela says to her mother with Cassandra nodding in agreement.

“Momma has a point though too! We are better than those things!” Dani says beaming at her mother. Cass mumbles suck up under her breath and is smacked by Dani.

Soon after they find Mia in game again, she explains her amnesia and is taken away by Lucas.  Not being able to help they continue on through the house again.  Eventually they are found by Marguerite who begins to stalk them through the house attacking them with her swarm of insects, insane rants, and vulgar obscenities.

“This lady is something else…” Heisenberg says cringing at Marguerite.

“For once we agree on something Karl.” Alcina agrees cringing as well.  The others nod in agreement with them.

They make their way through a secret passageway revealed by the spider shadow puzzle.  The wall space was infested which had everyone cringing at the writhing masses of centipedes.  They collect the crank and the crow key and try to enter Marguerite’s room before she throws him down the stairs and through the floor.  After a short encounter, she falls into the hole and melts into black goo. They collect information on the D series pieces and Zoe calls again, and she mentions they only need the arm piece as she has the D series head.  They return to the hole to see the goo gone and a long spindly arm take the lantern needed to progress.  They follow the monstrosity to well in front of the old house returning to Zoe’s trailer. They return to a new section of the old house where they are attacked by a mutated spider like Marguerite.

They run around the house, avoiding her swarms and attacks while burning her with the flamethrower and peppering her with shotgun shots to the disgusting nest on her lower half.

“I take it back; you girls are way more similar to the bug lady.” Heisenberg says once she finally dies. Alcina slaps the back of his head and growls at him.

“Momma can we mutate like that too!” Dani says excitedly as Bela and Cass cringe.

“Absolutely not.  Do not even think about trying.” Alcina scolds while Heisenberg and Rose chuckle at them.

“Why would anyone want to have a gross bug vagina?”  Cassandra turns around asking her sister.

Dani shrugs, “I don’t know, I just think it would be neat.” Rose shoves the controller into Dani’s hands and takes Angie from her.

“No more bug talk, you play, I’m getting tired.” Rose says stretching.

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They find their way into Eveline’s secret room and collect the arm.  They go to meet Zoe in her trailer only to find that no one is there.  They answer a call from Lucas where he tells Ethan that he has both Zoe and Mia, and that Ethan needs to play his game to save them and get the head.  They make their way back to the main house’s dissection room where they pull the snake key out of the dead deputy’s neck hole.  Lucas’ voice come out through a speaker explaining they need to find two keycards so they can meet.

“Ohhh, I love this guy! I’m getting so many ideas for new games, hehehe!” Angie says excitedly bouncing in Rose’s lap.  Donna glares at the doll chastising her through their mental link.  Angie pouts at the scolding.

They make their way through the increasingly molded main house solving Lucas’ puzzles and dodging the molded shambling around.  They find the blue keycard and make their way down into a secret room containing the red keycard.  Lucas calls again at the phone in the main hall, leading Ethan to a party in the barn.

They enter the barn to thumping music and glowing paint under a black light.  They come across a room with a television showing Lucas ranting and waving the D series head around, ranting about how he doesn’t want to give up his gift and that they can only get the serum from him before the television explodes.  They make their way through the barn avoiding trip mines and coming up to a locked gate with a passcode.  Lucas makes an appearance taunting Ethan and giving him incorrect passwords before a trap springs and a secret door opens up.

They wind through the barn avoiding the traps and taking out the molded arriving at Lucas’ arena where they fight off a giant molded.  After the fight they find the correct passcode to enter the birthday room.  They solve his puzzles and escape through the hole created by the dynamite.  They see a television with Zoe and Mia, Zoe explains where they are before Lucas cuts the camera to himself ranting about nothing.  They collect the D series head and leave the barn making their way to Zoe and Mia.  They release Zoe and Mia before collecting the completed serum.  Just after they are ambushed by a fully mutated Jack.

“Wait he isn’t dead?! I can’t believe I didn’t call it!” Heisenberg calls out as Dani fights Jack.

After a long grueling fight, taking out Jacks many swollen eyes and using one of the two serums to calcify him at Zoe’s request.  Walking down the pier they are faced with a choice to cure either Zoe or Mia.

“Well clearly we are supposed to cure mom. Its what dad did in real life.” Rose says.

“True, I did.  I did feel bad though, Chris ended up saving Zoe and her uncle, so it all ended up good.” Ethan says.

“Yeah, sure choosing Mia is what really happened but what if we chose Zoe?” Dani asks hovering over Zoe in game.

“No! We can do it later right now we are choosing mom.” Rose says sternly.

“Fiiiiinnnnnee.” Dani whines out giving Mia the serum.  They take the raft down the river listening to Ethan and Mia talk about the situation before they come across the wrecked boat Mia and Eveline arrived on.  They are attacked by the mold, and they switch to Mia’s perspective as they hear Eveline speak to her through their mental connection.

“Well, this is going to be interesting, I’ve never seen this before.” Ethan says as they move into the ship. They find an unconscious Ethan who is taken by the mold deeper into the ship.  They move through the mold infested ship as Mia, getting flashbacks as they move on.  They follow the phantom Eveline to a room containing a television where they watch a video tape that blends into them playing through the situation leading to the crash of the ship and the infection of the Baker family.

They see Mia’s partner Alan who explains he is the reason Eveline escaped he explains that she needs to fix his mess and they begin to track Eveline through the ship.  They finally come across Eveline in the engine room before she runs off again.  They find Alan again in the room next to the one where they started the video tape. As he explains that Eveline is deteriorating, he insults her, and she overtakes him with the mold.  The mold then spreads to Mia infecting her.  They then see Mia recording the warning video from the beginning of the game.  The section ends with Mia being blown off the ship and floating unconscious in the water, before returning to the present with Mia and the Phantom Eveline talking. Making their way to the bridge they use the surveillance cameras to find Ethan trapped in mold in the engine room. On the way there they are impeded by the phantom Eveline and the remaining molded.

As Mia finds Ethan, the perspective swaps back to Ethan’s mind as he speaks to a sane Jack.  He explains that Eveline is the cause of all the murders and kidnappings.  He says that they were infected when He rescued her from the crashed tanker.  Jack also explains that stopping Eveline will stop the mold.  Before Ethan awakens to Eveline and Mia arguing.  Mia rips him free from the mold prison and gives him the tissue sample before locking him out of the engine room urging him to kill Eveline.  They continue through the bayou to a salt mine near the Baker house.  They hear a military broadcast explaining a team was sent in to take down Eveline. They traverse the salt mines finding an underground lab with information on Eveline and the E series mold.  They use Eveline’s tissue samples to make the E- Necrotoxin that is used to kill her permanently. As they exit the mine, Ethan sees flashes of Eveline as she sends the molded to kill him. They exit the mine into the original room Ethan found Mia in where he has a vision of Mia panicking.  He continues to see visions of Mia’s attack on him and Eveline controlling her.  They stab Eveline with the serum, and she reveals her true form as Grandma before melting away and mutating into a large monstrosity.

As Dani fights the massive face of Eveline, Miranda mumbles to herself, “Absolutely fascinating.  How she responds to different stimuli and the delayed injection of the Necrotoxin.” Rose and Dani scream forgetting that Miranda was sitting behind them.

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you! You scared the living hell out of us!” Rose yells at her turning to face Miranda who has a notebook open in her lap.  “What are you even doing?”

Miranda blushes at being caught, “I was taking notes on how E-001 reacted and how the family responded to the infection.  It is incredibly fascinating that the whole Baker family mutated without becoming one of the shambling molded.”

“Trust me she was about to run off and work more before I stopped her.” Elena interjects into Miranda’s rambling.  “Don’t worry, I won’t let her work on the Eveline project outside of simply watching videos.” Miranda’s blush deepens and she looks embarrassed at being called out by her lab assistant.

“Good, no more mind control children allowed.” Dani says rudely turning back to the screen continuing the final fight.

Ethan is thrown from the house and sees helicopters arriving at the house as he is attacked by Eveline. He uses an unknown gun to shoot Eveline calcifying and crumbling her finally.  After the battle, Ethan and Mia are rescued by Chris.  The final shots of the game are Ethan speaking over clips of marshlands and the reveal of the Blue Umbrella helicopter.

“Well that certainly was something….” Ethan says as the credits roll.  Mia wide eyed and shocked nods in agreement.

“So, all that actually happened?” Rose asks her parents, they both nod. “Ok well that doesn’t explain how the heck this got made or why we were sent it or by who!” Rose rants.

“Who cares, it was awesome!” Dani exclaims high fiving Angie who cheers with her.

“Can we leave now? My back is beginning to hurt.” Bela complains standing up and stretching.

Rose boos her, “Fine be boring.  What did everyone else think?” She asks everyone left in the room.

“Amazing! Fantastic! Ten out of ten!” Dani exclaims clinging onto Rose.

“It was interesting, very cinematic.  A bit tropey at times but it works in its favor.  Especially since this technically happened.  The villains were enjoyable and empathetic at the same time.” Heisenberg critiques.

“Yeah, whatever it was fine.” Cass says getting up and leaving the room.

“I had quite a nice time, I’m glad you suggested this, Rose.” Alcina says picking up the sleeping Donna. “I’m sure Donna will apologize for falling asleep tomorrow morning.  Have a good night.”  She kisses the top of Rose and Dani’s heads and leave the room.

“It was quite informative, thank you for inviting me, Rose.  I truly appreciate it.  Now I must go and review my notes.” Miranda says looking at her notebook as she slowly leaves the room.

“We are actually going to bed, but thanks for inviting us, Rose.  We’ll have to do it again soon!” Elena says grabbing Miranda’s arm and taking her notebook.

“I think your mom and I have some talking to do, but you guys have a good night sweetie.” Ethan says getting up before kissing Rose on the head.

“Yeah, outside of the horrifying content of this ‘game’ it was fun.  Have a good night honey.” Mia says following her husband to their room.

“Alright seems like the party is dying down and someone has to get Sal to his room.  Seems like he and Donna can’t stay up late like us cool kids.” Heisenberg laughs out shaking Sal awake.  Sal stands up groggily and leans ion Heisenberg as they leave to their respective rooms.

“Lame everyone left. You want to stay up or are you hitting the sack too?” Dani asks Rose.

“I think I’m going to bed too.  I have a lot to think about.” Rose says hugging Dani, “See you in the morning Dan.”  Dani decides to follow Rose and they head to bed.

In his assigned quarters, the Duke watches the group scatter to their rooms for bed, “I’m glad they enjoyed my little gift.  Hopefully, it answers some questions for them.” The Duke says to himself chuckling.

[novelconcepts]

fic: learning a lot (about being alive)

So much of the story is the same. Dani. The kids. The lake. So much of the story is exactly the same--only, this time, there is no gardener working at Bly Manor.

The young woman is tired. Exhausted, if she’s truly honest with herself. She feels as though there must be an endpoint to running, a marker down the road that says a person has gone as far as they are able. Rest now, she imagines that marker saying in a cheerily-bold script. Fall down now. Let go. 

She isn’t there yet, she’s pretty sure. Not quite. She doesn’t know how much a person can be expected to carry, or for how long, but at least...at least she has a little left in the tank, yet. Enough to get her affairs in order, if nothing else. Enough to try a little longer to find solid ground. 

***

It was a matter of escaping home, to start with. A matter of escaping old ghosts and older expectations, and that Dani Clayton found all too quickly how easily ghosts can follow a person across miles and miles of world was...unfortunate. It had been naive, maybe, to think she’d leave Eddie behind with the simple act of crossing an ocean. One of those you never know before you try things.

Try, she did. Succeed, she did not. Not at first.

Still, there were bright spots. Travel hadn’t been a large part of her life back home; Edmund was a homebody, her mother always had opinions to offer when Dani mentioned family trips, and there were the kids at school to consider. Reliability had been her middle name, if not by choice, at least by necessity. She’d been twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven years old, and all she’d seen of the world was small-town Iowa. 

And then, unexpectedly: the thread of courage that had pushed her to break things off with Eddie.

And then, even worse: the screech of tires, the scream tearing from her own throat, the awful gurgling sounds Eddie had made as he lay spread-eagled on the blacktop. 

And then, the worst thing of all: glasses, gleaming bright with no sign of Eddie’s laughing eyes behind them, flashing at her from every mirrored surface in the room.

It had been too much. Too much for anyone to bear, Dani was sure. Who could blame her, for running away? Who could blame her, for needing a little space?

Her mother, for one. Eddie’s mother, for another. Even so, she had gone. Packed three bags, bought a guidebook to Europe, jumped a plane for the first time in her life. Bravest thing she’d ever done--or stupidest--and it had been a week before she’d stopped waking up trembling with adrenaline. 

She had some money--enough to get by on cheap hostels and simple foods--but she’d kept her eyes on the listings in every paper all the same. One in particular seemed to burn a little brighter within the newsprint. A charming manor in the countryside. Two children. Live-in au pair required. 

A good, solid job. Money in her pocket, and a path forward through a world that maybe wouldn’t demand Danielle of her any longer. She’d stretched for it, closed her fist tight around the opportunity. 

Those kids had been wonderful. Strange, at times, but what children freshly mourning their parents aren’t strange? The other adults at Bly Manor, too, had been charming and kind--Owen, with his bad puns and his delicious dishes, and Hannah, who had taken Dani by the arm with motherly affection almost before Dani had even introduced herself. They were good people. For a few weeks, she’d felt more at home than she had ever been with people who had known her since childhood. 

Still, there had been shadows cast over the summer. Miles, aggressive without provocation. Flora, sleepwalking. Owen, unexpectedly losing his mother. Hannah, growing more and more distant. 

And, finally, the night everything comes apart. A lake. A spectral form with a too-solid grip around Dani’s throat. A child, screaming in terror. A phrase, falling from her lips before Dani can even process the words. 

Dani says them like a spell. Dani says like them a promise. Dani says them, and blinks, and Flora is in her arms, squeezing so tight around her bruised neck, she thinks she might pass out. 

She almost tips over in cold, dirty lake water, but someone is splashing toward them. Henry. Henry Wingrave, still dressed for the office, bug-eyed and grasping for his niece with panicky hands. Dani gives her over gladly, feeling as though all the strength has been wrung out of her body. 

None of this makes sense. A summer spent at this house, making a warm little hole in the world for her to crawl into, only to culminate in this? In Owen shouting for Hannah, in Miles shaking all over, in Flora weeping and Henry trying to look as though he isn't about to start doing the same?

She can’t handle it. Suddenly can’t stay here. There’s...something happening beneath her skin, something cold and sharp and terribly foreign, and no one is looking at her. No one is seeing the way her hands convulse as she forces them into fists. 

She hears herself say, “I have to...have to go...” and knows no one is listening. Owen’s gone, sprinting off toward the chapel. Henry and the kids are a mess of hugging, shaking, crying bodies. 

A quick stop in the house, a quick stop upstairs to shuck off sodden sweater and mud-encrusted pants, and then she’s climbing through Henry’s still-open car door. Backing down the endless drive. Leaving the manor and all its eccentric shadows in her wake. 

***

Dani Clayton can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t drive, either, not really, but she’s made it this far. A few miles down the road, to a little village where most everyone is likely to already be asleep. 

There’s a pub next door to an inn, and she thinks, Nobody will care if I stay the night. Just one night. 

She has no idea what comes after. Is sort of afraid to think about it much. Tonight hasn’t made a lot of sense--her brain is still buzzing with it’s you, it’s me, it’s us, with Flora’s screams and her own gargling panic as an impossible hand tightened around her throat--and maybe that’s fine, for now. Maybe one night of not making sense is an acceptable loss. She’ll just walk into this little pub in this little village that doesn’t know her name, and maybe she’ll feel better after a drink. Or two. 

Or seven.

She’s not much for hard liquor, and her tolerance ought to be negligible, but there’s just something about this night that has unbound her. Alcohol is doing very little to take the edge off this gut-wrenching feeling that she isn’t...right. Isn’t quite who she was two hours ago. Isn’t...alone.

No, she thinks with firm certainty, no, that’s the crazy talking. The crazy I thought I fixed after Owen’s mother’s funeral, but maybe not, maybe it’s still...

She tips back her glass, polishing off a scotch she’d never have thought to order yesterday. Her face contorts; it hurts to swallow, even without the burn. She should probably give up, probably head next door and book a room to sleep this off.

“All right there?”

Her eyes snap to the owner of the voice, which is both thickly accented and alluringly curious. A woman--small, brown hair mussed, eyes watching Dani like she sort of expects Dani to start trouble right here in the smallest pub in England--is leaning against a neighboring table. Dani lets her empty glass drop with a thud against oak scored with initials and curse words. 

“Fine,” she answers shortly. The woman’s brows raise. 

“Only,” she says in a voice much more level than Dani’s own, “you don’t look fine. Look a bit like you’ve had the worst night of your life, in fact.”

Why should she care? Dani wonders. She licks her lips. “That,” she says, “would be an understatement.”

She’s too aware that she doesn’t belong in a place like this--smoke hazing the air, men laughing too loudly near the bar--and that a woman like the one watching her through guarded eyes does. Too aware that her pastel sweater and scrunchie probably label her as an outlier even faster than her American accent.

This woman, on the other hand, has the look of someone who spends most nights in pubs like this one. Her face is pretty--very pretty, Dani realizes with the belated interest of one just opening her eyes--but there’s something of a shield around her smile. Her clothes are clean, but not particularly fashion-forward: a pair of jeans, a ratty t-shirt, thin suspenders. She doesn’t look like anyone who has ever wasted a breath on Dani Clayton. 

But she’s raising her glass in a small salute. Dani raises her empty one right back, glancing at it with mild distaste. 

“Another?” the woman asks, still in that attention-grabbing, almost familiar tone. Dani starts to shake her head--she doesn’t accept drinks from strangers, as a rule, particularly strange women who look at her in ways that make her stomach clench--and changes her mind at the last second. Another. Sure. What harm could it possibly do?

***

Jamie’s back strikes the wall of the women’s bathroom with such force, she almost bites her own lip. Might have done, in fact, if not for the other woman’s lips in the way. 

She didn’t get a name, and figures that’s probably for the best. Bad enough she’s going down this road at all on a first glance--Bly isn’t big, and word travels impossibly fast. Jamie’s spent years keeping her head down, avoiding just these such entanglements. 

But the woman has incredible eyes--one bright blue, one a shocking brown--and accepted a free drink with the air of one who desperately needs a good time under her belt. When Jamie slid seamlessly from her own table to the stranger’s, the woman only smiled. When Jamie let her hand rest lightly on the pocked wood, fingertips grazing the woman’s wrist, she’d taken her lower lip between even teeth in a manner Jamie will probably think about for the rest of her life. 

Bathroom, then. Locked door. Bad choice, but one Jamie’s comfortable enough with so long as this woman is kissing her. 

She’s a damn fine kisser, and seems to have no qualms about showing Jamie as much. Her hands are fleeting, desperate, grabbing anywhere she can reach--Jamie’s collar is the current target, gripped so tight, it’s a wonder the thin material doesn’t tear--and she’s kissing Jamie like this is the most natural thing in the world. Like Jamie’s hand sifting through her ponytail, grabbing hold and tugging to urge her closer, is more welcome than that drink had been. Like Jamie, lips parting to accept a seeking tongue, is more welcome than--

Just a girl, Jamie reminds herself. Just a girl without a name, even. American. Probably won’t see her again, so might as well just enjoy what I get now. 

And what she’s getting is good, certainly. The woman has pressed a thigh between her legs, is riding against her with a panting ferocity that makes Jamie woozy. Her mouth slides from the woman’s kiss, searching for more skin to taste, her nose bumping against gold hoop earring as she licks a spot just below the woman’s jaw. A soft groan is her reward, and she grins against the woman’s skin, grazing with gentle teeth as she dips lower--

“Jesus,” she breathes, leaning back. Her fingers brush the woman’s neck below the collar of her sweater. “Hey, are you--”

“Fine,” the woman says, dragging Jamie’s bottom lip between her teeth and biting down hard enough for Jamie to hiss. 

“These,” she says, pulling slickly away again, “look like bruises--”

The woman is staring at her with a hard expression she can’t quite deconstruct. There’s something feverish about the way she looks at Jamie, something hunted and more than a little disconcerting. 

“I’m fine,” she says again, stiffly. “Do you want...?”

She almost sounds nervous, and Jamie realizes the opportunity for a pleasant evening is rapidly diminishing. Push now, push too hard, and this woman is going to turn on her heel and march out of this bathroom. Maybe out of Bly altogether. 

“If you do,” she answers, like this is nothing more than two bodies searching for something to hang on to. She leans back in, half-expecting the woman to shrink away, the moment already in its grave. Instead, she finds herself making an incredibly undignified noise as the woman slides her tongue into her mouth and a hand up the front of her shirt in the same motion. 

It feels both teenage and foolish, arching into a strange woman’s hand in a pub bathroom. Fascinatingly unwise, letting this woman scramble excited fingers against the seam of her jeans. Truly, just idiotic, sinking to her knees and pulling the woman’s trousers down just enough to seek out hot, wet skin with her tongue. 

Any other place, any other time, any other woman, and Jamie would know better. 

It’s just once, she reminds herself, groaning as the woman bucks into her mouth, slick and desperate, her hands tangled hard enough in Jamie’s hair to hurt. One stupid night with one stupidly attractive American. Life’s short. It’ll never come up again. 

***

Dani is pretty sure her head was removed last night and screwed back on the wrong way. 

She wakes in a heap in an unfamiliar bed, still in last night’s clothes. Her hair is a bedraggled mess around her face, her brain slamming itself repeatedly against her skull like a tiny, terribly angry man trapped in a very small room. Her mouth feels like she forgot to close it all night, her lips feel swollen, and her calves feel...weirdly sore. Like she’d spent the night clenching every muscle in her legs. Like she...

Oh, she thinks, quite unable to convince herself to open her eyes. Right. Like she’d spent the evening with a strange woman in a pub bathroom. A strange woman who had...with her mouth...and a wellspring of eager talent...

“Shit,” Dani says in a very small voice. 

If she doesn’t open her eyes, she thinks, there can be no proving she made choices last night the old Dani Clayton would never make. No proving how many scotches she’d downed. Certainly no proof of the woman whose thrusting tongue had caused Dani to...

She cracks one eye open, relieved when she finds herself in an empty and incredibly boring room that can only belong to some kind of motel. The inn, she realizes, sitting up with a wince. She’d made it to the inn, with its twin bed and its single lamp and its sad little flower print on the far wall.

By the looks of things, she made it to the inn alone. 

That makes it better and worse at the same time, somehow.

She’s far too tired and far too hungover--far too something else, too, something that has not at all diminished with the rising of the sun, and she will not look at it, will not think about it, will not--to care how she looks. Staggering downstairs, hair scraped back from her forehead, clothes rumpled, she gives the innkeeper her best approximation of a smile.

“Excuse me, do you serve--”

“Breakfast next door,” the man says dully, jabbing a pen toward the exit. Dani’s mouth twitches, an old anger pressing itself against her ribs. If there's one thing she can’t tolerate on a hangover and an empty stomach, it’s a man speaking to her like she’s not even there.

Forget it, she thinks with some effort. One perk, she supposes, of having dragged herself in at who-the-hell-knew what hour last night is the lack of packing up to do this morning. No bags. No sign she was ever even up there. She’ll just go next door, get a cup of coffee and maybe a little toast, and...

Ah. I stole Henry’s car last night. She heaves a sigh. 

“No breakfast after all?” the man adds as she stands in the doorway, peering out in search of wherever she parked a much-too-expensive vehicle without Henry’s consent. She considers flipping him the bird. Decides no version of Dani Clayton is quite that crass. 

Even one who spent last night riding some strange woman’s--

“No,” she says primly. “No, I should be getting back.”

***

Henry, to her extreme relief, has not even noticed her absence. Things have been a bit hectic, she gathers. The children are all right--as all right as they can be, anyway; they’re still in bed when she sneaks into the house--but they’re the only ones. Henry, seated at the kitchen table with a mug of cold tea between his palms, looks bruised around the eyes. 

“Long night,” he says, though Dani hasn’t asked. “Are you...?”

“Fine,” she says, as bright and cheerful as she can muster with her skull throbbing. “Where’s Hannah?”

Henry looks at her like she’s just buried a kitchen knife between his ribs. Her mouth goes dry. 

Hannah was not, as it turns out, in the chapel last night. Hannah was not anywhere at all. Not the part of her that counts.

“I can’t explain it,” Henry says in a low, urgently exhausted voice. “If I hadn’t...if it had been any other way, I’d have said I hallucinated the whole thing.”

It’s impossible, and yet, Dani can’t discount the story. Something about this house and its grounds, its atmosphere (its lake, she thinks and pinches a torn bit of cuticle to distract from the word), has her believing in things she’d have said were children’s fairytales a year ago. Ghosts aren’t real; anyone with any amount of sanity knows it. And yet...

You. Me. Us. She shudders. 

They’d gone out to the old well first thing, Henry tells her. He and Owen, walking in silence, both knowing what they’d find and knowing just as well that it was an unacceptable discovery. 

“I offered to go along,” he says hollowly. “When the authorities arrived. He wouldn’t hear it. Must have been an accident, they said, a terrible fall...”

How, Dani wonders, does a woman like Hannah Grose fall into a well?

As if that’s really the question. As if the true question isn't how does a woman like Hannah Gross fall into a well, and just continue about her life for the next few weeks without pause?

Ghosts aren’t real. Can’t be, in a sane reality. And yet, the coroners told Henry there were signs of decomposition going back many days. Hannah, who had been talking and laughing at this table just yesterday night, had been down there alone for so long. 

Can’t stay, Dani thinks with sudden venom. Can’t stay here anymore. Isn’t home anymore. 

It’s the same thought she had in that little blue house across the pond, staring at things that had been Edmund’s--had been, for better or worse, theirs--and understanding some changes are permanent. Some places, once haunted by certain kinds of grief, cannot remain your own. 

As if reading her mind, Henry pushes back from the table. “I’d like very much to thank you for your services this summer, Miss Clayton. I truly don’t know what the children--what any of us--would have done without you.”

She tries to smile. The bones of her face ache. Everything about her is a single rabid pulse of pain, except maybe the smallest corner of her mind, the smallest corner of memory where she is back in a dirty pub bathroom, watching a woman sink to her knees, feeling her eyes roll back as that woman touches--

“It was my pleasure,” she says, and isn’t lying, exactly. She’d do it again, she thinks. All of it. The job. The little family she found so unexpectedly. Rescuing Flora from something she can’t, even now, process. She’d do it all again if asked, and do it exactly the same. 

It hurts no less, for that. 

***

“You’re sure?” Henry asks yet again. He’s out of the car, holding her bags out, his face that of a worried father. Dani thinks he’ll make a good one to those kids, in his own way. “You could stay a little longer. I’d never ask you to--”

“I know,” she reassures him, slinging the backpack over her shoulder. “But honestly, it’s better this way. The kids don’t need me hanging around, and I...”

Can feel her, she doesn’t say. Can feel her moving around, way down where I can’t even catch a glimpse of how or why. If I stay there, if I let it, that house will call to her like a magnet again. Like gravity.

“It’s time for a new adventure,” she says instead, smiling. He believes this smile, she knows. Anyone would. She’s gotten so good at faking it. 

He hugs her once, quickly. It is appropriately awkward, and she even laughs a little. Flora, hanging out of the backseat window almost far enough to fall, looks miserable. 

“You’re really leaving?”

“I am.” Bent at the waist, Dani looks the girl in the eye. Flora’s face is uncharacteristically solemn. “But I promise I’ll write. Call, too, if your uncle gives me the number.”

“Where are you going?” Flora presses. Behind her, Miles lays a clumsy hand of reproach on her shoulder. Dani favors him with a small, comprehending smile. Miles has gone through things none of them can fathom, things he may never be able to talk about. She aches for the too-adult cast about his eyes. 

“I don’t exactly know yet,” Dani tells them both. “Like I said, it’s an adventure. Might end up anywhere.”

“But happy,” Flora says uncertainly. “Right?”

“I’m sure,” Dani says, dropping a final kiss to the top of her head, “it will be perfectly splendid.”

She keeps the smile on her face as Henry ushers Flora back through the window and into her seatbelt, as they pull away from the curb and down the curve of Bly’s main intersection. When they turn the corner, disappearing from view, she lets the expression drop with a sigh. 

A week. A week since the lake, since finding Hannah’s body, since the impossible set up shop in her head. A week of Henry learning to parent in a slapdash rush, of Owen’s face more serious than she’d ever seen it, of yet another funeral. Hannah’s had been a quiet affair, properly spiritual as she’d have liked, and Dani had spent the entire thing trying not to think about the last funeral she’d attended. 

And now, a week later, she’s here. Standing in front of Bly’s one and only little pub once more. It’s barely afternoon; she figures this is as good a place as any to sit for a few hours with a beer and her thoughts, until she figures out what comes next. 

Nothing comes next, she finds herself thinking. You’re carrying a time bomb. You can’t understand it, can’t get rid of it, and there’s no one left to hold your hand as you wait for it to go off. 

Defeatist thinking. Stupid, hopeless, miserable thinking. She’s tired, but she isn’t out of the game just yet. 

Make a plan, she tells herself, slipping through the pub’s front entrance and taking a seat at the bar. Get a drink, make a plan. There’s always a next step. 

Except, this time, she doesn’t know if she believes it. Not really. Not knowing things she isn’t comfortable knowing. Ghosts exist, and ghosts can hurt--not just your grasp on the world, not just your sanity, but you. They can throttle. They can manipulate. They can steal the life out from under you, if only you invite them in.

Not that she can say any of this aloud, not ever, not to anyone. 

Get a drink. Make a plan. Something that doesn’t involve Mom, or Iowa, or Danielle. 

She drops the backpack between her knees, slides the other bags under her seat where she can keep an eye on them. She’s sure she looks exhausted in a hooded sweatshirt, a denim jacket, the skin around her eyes nearly purple with sleepless nights. Pub at noon on a Thursday--maybe no one will notice. 

Not that there’s anyone she’s trying to impress.

“Just a beer,” she says when a shape appears in her periphery. “Please.”

“Sandwich as well?”

Her head comes up so fast, something in her neck cramps. The bartender, back to her, is filling a tall glass. Cloth over one shoulder. Brown hair a messy tangle of curls. 

“It’s--it’s you.”

The woman meets her gaze with a smirk Dani is simply not equipped at noon on a Thursday to cope with. 

“Last I checked,” she says calmly, setting the full glass in front of Dani and wiping her hands on the cloth. “Ought to be, too, seeing as how this is my pub.”

***

Oh, this is rich. This is rich, and this is wonderful, and this is fucking bad.

Jamie, who has been watching this woman loiter outside the pub for the better part of ten minutes, has had exactly this long to come to terms with her own misfortune. Ten minutes, to recognize the world is a shallow, cruel prankster. Ten minutes, to recognize this does nothing at all to stop a woman she’s been dreaming of for a week from walking back through her door. 

I know what you look like when you come, she thinks with a recklessness she truly thought she’s outgrown. And now I'm meant to serve you ale like we’re complete fuckin’ strangers. 

For all her nerves, watching the woman hug an older man, lean into a car to speak to some very small children, Jamie thinks she’s still the better off of their twosome. After all, she gets to decide how she’s going to stand--off the side of the bar, furthest from the door, buying time--and when she’s going to make her entrance. This woman?

Well, judging by her wide Bambi eyes, this woman could have done with a little preparation herself. 

“White or rye?” Jamie asks when the woman continues to gape at her. “Or we can get you a fish and chips plate, if it suits you.”

“I don’t understand,” the woman says. Her hand is clenched around her glass like she’s dimly considering tossing it like a grenade and bolting for the door. Jamie hopes she’ll restrain that impulse. Glass would be a bitch to clear up during the impending lunch rush.

“Well,” Jamie says, leaning her elbows against the bar in a show of carelessness. “When you order the fish and chips, see, they come wrapped in a little newsprint. And the grease makes for--”

“I know,” the woman snaps, “what fish and chips are. I just. I...” She lowers her voice, looking around like anyone’s in the mood to eavesdrop. “Do you...remember me?”

For a split second, Jamie is back in the bathroom, biting at soft thighs, loving the way this woman leaves scratches down the back of her neck. 

“Yes,” she says placidly. “I remember.”

“Okay,” the woman says, leaning towards her so far, she almost topples off her stool. “Okay, listen, I don’t--I mean--I didn’t--”

“Mean to do it,” Jamie suggests wryly. She’s heard this song more times than she can count. “Tripped and fell onto my lips, did you?”

“No,” the woman hisses. “I just--don’t normally do that.”

“Women,” Jamie says. It’s sort of nice, how empty the place is. Gives her plenty of time to sarcastically shift away from caring about how this woman is gazing at her. 

“No--I mean, I haven’t. Before. But I’ve wanted--doesn’t matter.” She’s practically playing jump rope with her own tongue, this poor beautiful woman. Jamie takes pity on her. 

“You mean you don’t normally stride into a small-town pub, put away more booze than the meanest local miner, and drag a stranger back to, ah. Improve your evening?”

“Yes.” The woman slumps against the bar, relief shining like starlight in her mismatched eyes. “Yes, exactly.”

“Was an accident, then,” Jamie says with studied calm. The woman shakes her head. Looks like it hurts, frankly, she’s putting so much behind it. 

“Not an accident. Just. Was a really strange night.”

And this, Jamie thinks, is a very strange conversation. The most she’s ever talked to a woman after sex, in fact. Stranger still, she feels like it was always going to happen, eventually. Like this woman was always bound to stroll back through her door. 

“Well,” she says, giving the bar a decisive rap with her knuckles. “I can be an adult about this, if you can. Agree to behave as though I haven’t, ah--”

The woman raises a single finger in warning, her face flushed. “Don’t.”

Jamie laughs. “Right. Anyway.” She extends a hand, takes the one the woman is jabbing in her direction. “Jamie. Bartender, terminally afflicted by the poor decision to settle in Bly.”

“Dani,” the woman says, squeezing her hand with surprising strength. “Teacher. Au pair. Unemployed.”

“All of the above, or one at a time?” Jamie grins. Dani releases her hand, touches her forehead lightly as if warding off a headache. 

“Honestly, I’m not even sure it matters.”

Strange woman, Jamie thinks. “You’re heading out of town, then? Only, I saw your taxi service come and go...”

If she says yes, that’s all this business taken care of before Jamie can bring herself to think on it too hard. It’d be best, she thinks. Best to let this too-beautiful woman swan right back out of her life, let her become little more than a jarringly-electric memory sneaking up on Jamie at odd moments. Jamie’s got a nice little life here in Bly--boring, but simple. She really doesn’t need anything upending that for her. 

“I don’t know,” Dani sighs. “I don’t exactly have a job anymore. Or a place to stay.”

“But?” Jamie turns her attention toward cleaning glasses, if only to keep from staring at this woman. She looks like it’s been days since last she slept, but there’s something about her eyes Jamie can’t seem to stop glancing at. 

“You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t,” Jamie says. Dani’s mouth twists, a crooked little grin that doesn’t sit quite right on her face. 

“Won’t believe me, then.”

Jamie says nothing. Some people don’t take kindly to being told to trust. Some people need more to put their faith behind. She can’t begrudge it of this woman, or anyone. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Dani says, pausing to take a hearty sip from her glass. Her neck looks better, Jamie notes--the finger-shaped bruises have faded to near invisibility. Not that she’s thinking about Dani’s neck. Not that she’s remembering the way Dani sighed and clutched at her back as she kissed--

“I just don’t want to go back,” Dani says, oblivious. Jamie nearly fumbles the glass in her hand, sets it carefully down on the rack. 

“To your old job?”

“Home.” A surprising amount of venom fits into that single syllable, rolling off of Dani’s tongue. Jamie can certainly understand that. 

“So, don’t.” She turns her back, barely able to believe what’s about to come out of her own mouth. It’s foolish. It’s foolish and dumb and silly, and still: “Stay here.”

Dani’s mouth makes a rather funny sound, falling open. Jamie keeps her eyes on the bar mirror, watching surreptitiously for signs of revulsion in the other woman’s face. 

“Could use a waitress,” she goes on, as if this is the most normal conversation in the world. “Just for a few weeks, mind. Through the fall, maybe. Boss man’ll be back by then.”

“Boss?” Dani repeats. Jamie flashes her a quick grin over her shoulder. 

“I don’t actually own the place. What on earth would I do, ownin’ a goddamned pub in Bly?”

***

She doesn’t mean to say yes. It’s complicated, saying yes to Jamie. Knowing what happened between them, and knowing it happened on a night she can’t explain, is bad enough. Knowing all of that and taking a job working alongside the woman every evening?

It’s a bad idea, and, somehow, that’s the only reason she does it.

She can’t explain it, the recklessness living inside her chest. Doesn’t like the feel of it, curled up against her good sense as though it will, at any moment, open its jaws and consume her best judgement. All she knows is there is something waiting for her to trip up. Something waiting for her to give up. Something that may take her at any time, no matter how she feels about it. 

Without something to hang on to--without something to close her fists around, something to focus all of her attention on--she’s going to give in to it. Sooner than she’d like. 

She doesn’t want to go. 

So, she stays in Bly, of all the places to start an adventure. Small, quiet, boring Bly. With...Jamie.

Not with Jamie, she thinks briskly. Not with Jamie-with Jamie. Just. Alongside Jamie. As a co-worker. A normal, casual, my-tongue-has-not-been-in-her-mouth relationship.

She’s been telling herself this for three days. Three days spent learning the ins and outs of the pub, learning how to navigate the unfriendly, untrusting stares of Bly locals as Jamie hovers just off her periphery. It has been...an experience, to say the least. 

“You’re doing great,” Jamie says at the end of the third night. They’ve just ushered the last of the patrons out into the brisk moonlight, and Jamie is in the process of moving chairs on top of each table Dani wipes down. They’re a good team, Dani thinks, a better team than a week of knowing one another has any right to produce. 

“I spilled a drink in a man’s lap,” she says, to distract from this not-entirely-unwelcome thought. Jamie leans conspiratorially close, shoulder brushing Dani’s as she drops her voice to a whisper.

“You only spilled it ‘cuz he bumped you trying to get a look at your ass. Served him right, I’d say.”

Heat climbs her neck, taking root in her cheeks. She hadn’t noticed. “Really?”

Jamie shrugs. “Does that to every girl who walks through that door. Not our most pleasant customer, to be sure, but he orders enough to keep our doors open, so...”

She makes conversation so easily, Jamie. Like Dani’s been here for years, bustling awkwardly between close-set tables, making small talk around drink orders. She makes conversation so easily, and Dani finds herself responding in kind. Nights here, at the pub, wearing a black apron and a smile that gets a little less plastic every time Jamie leans close and whispers a barb about some customer or another, leave her feeling the most stable she’s been in days.

“How’re they treating you next door?” Jamie asks, sliding her half of the tips across the bar. Dani pockets the money without really thinking about it. 

“Good. It’s quiet. I’m...not used to it, yet.”

She doesn’t say the rest--that she misses those kids, misses the way Owen and Hannah would peck at one another like no one could tell how deep their love ran. That she misses small feet tearing up and down a huge staircase. That she misses having someone who needs her waiting just around the corner. 

Can’t say the other part, either. The part where the room is quiet, and the walls seem not to exhale like they did at the manor, and everything is perfectly still...except for the little spot at the back of her head. That spot where she senses something waiting. Something she doesn’t understand, something that is so unbearably silent...and so incredibly furious. 

“Hey--Poppins. Still with me?” Jamie’s hand touches hers lightly, a bare flourish of fingertips across her knuckles. Dani jumps. 

“Poppins?” she repeats, smiling despite herself. Jamie shrugs.

“Said you were a nanny, didn’t you? For those, ah, rich beasties up the way.”

She had said as much, yes--last night, when Jamie asked what brought her out to England in the first place. “You’re as American as they fucking come,” Jamie had said with a grin that made Dani’s stomach feel like it was falling. “What on earth could have led you to Bly?”

Don’t, a tiny part of her had warned. Don’t tell her. There’s so much story, and so much of it is truly crazy. But Jamie had been leaning her hip against the bar, watching her with gentle interest, and Dani hadn’t been able to resist giving some of that story anyway. The simplest version: had to get away from home, wanted to do good in the world, best skills are with kids. Took the job because it was everything she’d thought she’d needed.

“And?” Jamie pressed gently, when Dani had faltered there. “Was it? Everything you needed?”

You. Me. Us. She’d closed her eyes, felt the world swim around her for one excruciating second. When she’d opened them again, Jamie’s hand was on her elbow, steadying.

“I don’t know,” she says now, as she did then. Jamie’s mouth quirks a little to the side, like she wants to smile solely as a reassurance. 

“Long night.”

It was--every night since the lake has been longer than Dani knows what to do with--and she’s not sure she can stand the idea of spending it alone in her room. The inn is warm, well-lit, and makes her feel like a tinderbox seconds from going up. Restless energy, is all--she’d felt it at the manor, too, that pent-up need to leap from her bed and roam the halls each night--but for some reason, it scares her.

Jamie is watching her still, and Dani is struck with the wild notion that she could ask for Jamie’s company. Could ask not to be left alone tonight. Jamie would probably say yes to anything she asks for, and they’d have a good time together. It would be a campfire in the woods, maybe, just a little light to break up the shadows, but it would be better than nothing.

Not fair, she tells herself. Not fair to her. Not with whatever it is I’m carrying now. 

“Thank you,” she says aloud, touching Jamie’s hand quickly, her thumb swiping across Jamie’s skin in a manner so brisk, it might as well not have happened at all. “You probably want to get to bed.”

Something she can’t--won’t--look at too closely in Jamie’s eyes. Something that makes her whole body clench with a need she isn’t capable of dealing with just now.

“Yeah,” Jamie says softly. “G’night, Poppins.”

***

Dani is better at this than she thinks, Jamie sees right away. Not just the serving gig, either; doesn’t take a mastermind, to take drink orders and drop off plates of bad chips to drunk townies. She’s good at the real heart of the job, the reason people like the citizens of Bly flock to the village’s one and only pub. 

She catches sight of her doing this very thing, probably without even realizing, on a Friday night. The room is packed with bodies, sweaty and laughing and half-gone on half-priced ale, and Jamie’s been looking for her for ten minutes. When she locates her at last, Dani is standing in the very back of the pub, hands on her hips, smiling at the oldest woman in the world. 

Jamie moves just near enough to pick up the gist. The woman, a fixture of Bly in her late eighties, still making her weekly venture to the pub, is regaling Dani with what very well might be her life story. And Dani, rather than looking impatient, rather than letting her eyes slide away in search of something else to do, has her head tipped to the side. Her posture is easy, the first time Jamie’s seen it as such, her focus absolute. 

Just listening. Just listening to this ancient woman like there’s nothing going on around her. 

“That was something,” Jamie says in her ear when Dani finally extricates herself from the one-sided conversation and makes her way back. 

“What was?”

Jamie inclines her head toward the old woman. Dani looks embarrassed. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore the other tables, I--”

“Easy,” Jamie says, neatly stepping in the way of Dani’s breakneck sprint toward a panic attack. “You aren't in any trouble, I just can’t recall the last time I saw someone chat her up.”

She watches Dani relax, charmed by the way Dani smiles almost sheepishly.

“She said she’s been here her whole life. Can you imagine that? Staying in one place for almost ninety years?”

“Can’t imagine being anywhere for ninety years,” Jamie says without thinking. Dani’s brows go up, a comedic little arch that pulls at her heart. She hastens to add, “Only mean it’s been...a life. Not always lived with the best of intentions.”

Dani looks interested, and for a terrifying moment, Jamie thinks not only is she going to push, but that Jamie is actually going to tell her. Everything. Home life, foster care, prison term. Everything that stacks up behind her walls to remind her of why she built them in the first place. 

But Dani, thank fuck, only says, “We all have our baggage, right?” There’s something sad about the way she says it, the way she smiles with what Jamie is coming to think of as a half-light. There’s something going on behind a smile like that, and Jamie knows it isn’t safe to even wonder. Isn’t simple, to even consider caring. 

But you do, something whispers. Don’t you? Even knowing she’ll be gone in a couple of weeks, you do. 

“It’s funny,” Jamie says, a quick-change that doesn’t quite cover the heat she feels has cropped up between them. “That she’d come talk your ear off. She’s not much for words most nights. Thought she’d have gotten her fill at old Mrs. Sharma’s funeral last month.”

There goes Dani’s face again, forming that expression of pure surprise. “Wait. She knew Owen’s mother?”

“Who didn’t?” Owen Sharma, Bly’s kindest, least eligible bachelor. If Jamie had a dollar for every beautiful woman who made moon eyes over the man, she’d be up at least the price of a nice meal. 

Shame about his mother, really. Margaret had been at least as kind as her son, prone to slipping Jamie a wink and a chuckle while Owen blatantly missed all flirtation sent his way. It had hurt, seeing her grip on her own mind slip away. Had hurt worse, knowing Owen was up at that big old house only because it was the nearest he could get to Margaret’s deterioration. 

“Good woman,” Jamie says gruffly. “Kind woman. Hated seeing her go, but if I’m honest, maybe it’s easier on Owen this way.”

“He didn’t seem to think it was easier,” Dani says, but there’s a bit of hesitation in her voice. Like she knows what Jamie was trying to say, and maybe she doesn’t like it, but can’t entirely discount the idea, either. 

“Hang on,” Jamie says, jumping back a few steps. “If you know Owen--”

“Worked with him,” Dani agrees. “At the house. He was our cook.”

Of fucking course. How could I have missed this. “If you know Owen,” Jamie repeats, feeling very certain and very warm all of a sudden, “then you were at the funeral, too.”

The funeral. A surprisingly sunny affair, where the weather was concerned, and utterly miserable in every other way. Jamie, in honor of a woman who once made her feel more welcome in this tiny village than just about everyone her own age, had dressed carefully. Her only black dress. A fine jacket. Neat silver earrings. No one to impress but ghosts.

And she’d felt...incomplete, somehow, standing over the grave. Incomplete and terribly small, as Owen tried to make sense of his mother’s death under the cold stares of fifty strangers. This, they seemed to say with their eyes alone, this is the boy who thought he could get out. Thought he could escape. But Bly calls everyone home, in the end, doesn’t it, Owen?

She’d hated seeing him up there, tears leaking down an uncharacteristically solemn face. Hated the way their eyes followed him as he bowed his head over Margaret’s grave. Owen’s a bit of a prat, a little disconnected, totally unaware of the grip he has on the women of Bly, but he deserved so much better than this. So much better than judging eyes and whispers. 

But, then, who was Jamie to fight his battles for him? This man who might have been a friend, in another life, who is really little more than an occasional customer. She’d shaken her head, tapping a cigarette out of a crumpled pack, and set off a ways for a break from it all. 

And there, behind a tree, had been a woman. 

Jamie hadn’t seen her face. Had, in fact, stood intentionally back a few steps to give the woman a spot of privacy, because the sounds she was making did not invite onlookers. She seemed to have her hands over her mouth, dragging in great hitching sobs that made it sound as though all the air had gone out of the world. 

“All right?” Jamie had asked. Such a stupid, silly thing to say. But the woman had frozen. 

“Yeah.” Voice choked with obvious tears she was just as obviously trying to hide. Jamie had settled the cigarette between her teeth, flicked a lighter, cupped her hands around the infant ember. 

“Funerals,” she’d said, a bit stupidly. No idea why, even. No one in Bly needs her to play nice with their panic attacks. “Truly the worst.”

“Yeah,” the woman agreed, breathless. Jamie could just make out a layer of black dress, cut higher and less conservatively than the village prefers for its more somber events. A bit of black dress, a swatch of blonde hair. Not much else. 

Not my business to look, she’d thought, taking a long drag. Shifted her weight from one boot to the other. Hesitated. 

“S’all right,” she’d said at last. Voice smoke-roughened and more than a little embarrassed by her own forwardness. “I cry three, four times a day, even when there’s no fresh body in the ground.”

“Mmhmm,” the woman replied in a tight voice. Jamie sighed. 

“Only, no one would judge. Or,” she added, thinking of those pinched faces following Owen’s every broken step, “no one who hasn’t earned a punch on the nose for the trouble.”

To her surprise, the woman laughed. Not a big laugh. Just a snort, really, swallowed again just as quickly. Jamie, raising the cigarette back to her lips, fought down a grin. 

“You owe ‘em nothing,” she’d said, with a finality she didn't quite understand. Then, when the woman didn’t answer, a second time: “You owe ‘em nothing.”

Now, with the world of patron and alcohol abuzz around her, she peers into Dani’s face. “You,” she says quietly. “It was you.”

***

What are the odds? That the woman who had talked her down from a small mental breakdown at the funeral had been Jamie. That the woman who had, in fact, sparked something Dani couldn’t explain even to herself had been Jamie. That the woman who, in saying those four tiny words--you owe ‘em nothing--had lit the match she’d used to burn Eddie’s ghost out of her had been Jamie.

“Look a little pale,” Jamie observes. Her hand is loose around Dani’s upper arm, and Dani realizes she is swaying in place. Her heart is a jackrabbit, her head spinning. 

How? How could I not have noticed?

She’d thought Jamie had sounded familiar, hadn’t she? Right at the start, with Jamie raising her glass in a flirtatious little salute. She’d thought that voice rang a bell, and chalked it up to alcohol, to the pounding in her head, to the adrenaline high. 

“Have you ever,” she hears herself say dizzily, “met someone and felt right away you should have known them all along?”

It is an insane thing to say. Jamie ought to bolt for the door, words like that. Instead, brow creased with concern, she leads Dani behind the bar and sets her down on a stool. 

“Stay here a minute,” she commands. Dani drops her head into her hands. 

That night, after the funeral. Hadn’t she been thinking of this woman’s words when she’d taken a bottle of wine and Eddie’s glasses out to the fire? Hadn’t those words been vibrating between her teeth as she’d stared him down, this shadow of the man she’d once loved in all the wrong ways, for the last time?

I owe you nothing anymore, Eddie. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re gone, and I’m sorry I was the--I’m sorry you felt you had to run from the truth. But I can’t live like this. Not anymore. 

Drunk words. Sober reality. She’d woken the next morning feeling for the first time in almost a year like each inhalation actually inflated her lungs. 

“Here.” Jamie, reappearing like a magic trick at her side with a glass of ice water and a damp rag. “You’re off the rest of the night, Poppins. Can’t have you fainting on me.”

“Don’t want to go,” Dani begins blearily. Jamie presses the glass into her hands. 

“Not kicking you out,” she promises. “Just. Stay posted up here a while, yeah? I’ll be back.”

It’s an oath she keeps faithfully for the next several hours, performing a perfect balancing act between serving drinks and checking in with Dani. She ought to be embarrassed, Dani thinks, watching Jamie smile and fill glasses and glance back at her every so often to make sure she’s still where Jamie left her. This ought to be mortifying. 

Why isn’t it mortifying?

She watches Jamie, the natural way she glides from joke to joke, order to order, all steady hand and quick smile, and it’s like...like watching a movie you haven’t seen since you were a kid. A movie you used to put on in the background when you were sick, or sad, or lonely. She feels certain that she still knows all the words, the music cues, the parts where she always had to close her eyes against tears she didn’t yet understand. 

In a month of truly strange events, a month littered with ghosts and terrible heavy silences, this is the strangest yet. Looking at Jamie just in time to catch a wink that makes her hands slip against the glass. Looking at Jamie and thinking, I owe her nothing--and that’s the way it ought to be. 

“Feeling better?” Jamie asks when the doors are locked and there is only wood and glass listening in. Dani nods, clutching the now-empty glass and trying to find an expression for her face that will betray none of what she’s been thinking. 

“I’m sorry. It’s been a strange...” She shakes her head. There are words you can only say so many times before they begin to crumble on your tongue. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Seems as though it does,” Jamie says. She hoists herself up onto the bar, legs swinging, looking very young all of a sudden. Dani smiles. 

“It’s a long story.”

“Got time,” Jamie replies, and though it’s two in the morning, and Dani’s body is heavy with exhaustion, she can’t help leaning a bit closer. With Jamie seated this way, she’s a little taller than Dani for the first time, her eyes searching Dani’s face for clues as to...what? How she came to Bly, really? How she came to this pub, really?

How she came to carry whatever it is she can feel watching her every move, matching her step for step, really?

“You’ll think...” She swallows hard. Closes her eyes. Waits for Jamie to say I won’t, or try me anyway, or think what? Jamie doesn’t. Jamie remains quiet, and when she chances another glance, the expression on Jamie’s face almost undoes the small amount of calm she’s been collecting over the last few hours. She’s never seen anyone just...look at her like this. Like they really do have all the time in the world. 

“You’ll think I’m crazy,” she finishes at last, smiling such a hard smile, it feels as though it might snap right off her face. Jamie leans forward, elbows resting on the knees of her overalls. 

“I think you are,” she says, “one of the sanest people ever to walk through this shitty little town.”

And then, without quite knowing why, Dani is talking. About all of it. Dani is spilling things she can’t explain, can’t quantify: about Eddie, about deciding no longer to allow him ownership of her life even in death; about Hannah and the well, the way the woman had been so lovely and so strong and so not there at all, in the end; about the children and their unexpected passengers, about how Rebecca Jessel had tried to the last to rescue Flora from a fate Dani can’t imagine, even now. 

And she tells her about the Lady. 

She tells her about the specter with its hand like a claw, who had picked her up like a squirming sack of flour and dragged her through that house. About how Flora had saved her life in the way only a child can think to try. About how she’d saved Flora in return, even if she can’t explain it. 

Jamie listens. To all of it. Eyes serious, mouth drawn in a gentle frown. She’s nodding, Dani realizes. Nodding, and watching Dani’s eyes the whole time. 

“See?” Dani says at last, and realizes she’s crying. The silent tracks of tears are warm on her cheeks, skidding off her chin and into her lap. She’s crying, and she’s breathing through it, and somewhere deep inside, she thinks she hears the crash of waves. “Crazy. Think I’m crazy. Think I’m going--”

Jamie, so gracefully, she almost doesn’t see the change, pushes off the bar and crouches beside the stool. Her hands find Dani’s, a gentle grip that makes the world stop swaying for a moment. 

“Think you are,” she says in the most determined voice Dani has ever heard, “surprisingly sane. All things considered. And I want you to know, you don’t have to--”

Dani’s got her by the shoulders. Dani’s dragging her upright, surging right off her seat, pressing her back against the bar. Dani, who understands on a level that is conscious and legitimate and wise that this is her co-worker now, and finds she does not particularly care, kisses her with such desperation, she nearly moans into Jamie’s mouth. 

Jamie should push her off. Jamie should be gentle and solid and certain in her dismissal. This is a bad idea. This is a bad--

“I have a flat,” Jamie breathes against her lips. Dani realizes Jamie’s hands are in her hair, Jamie’s mouth is flushed pink, Jamie is looking at her eyes. “I have a flat upstairs.”

***

“I want you to know,” Dani pants against her neck, “I’m not doing this because I’m--”

She hesitates, apparently not quite invested enough in what they’re doing on Jamie’s couch to use the word haunted. Jamie catches one hand, brings it to her lips, kisses each finger slowly. Taking her time, letting her tongue drift from index to middle to ring, watching Dani’s eyelids flicker. 

“Want you to know,” Jamie replies, when she feels certain the welling panic in Dani’s eyes has been effectively banished once more, “you don’t have to explain. And you don’t have to do this, either. If you don’t want to.”

Dani, sitting in her lap, shifting her weight so her torso presses against Jamie’s, gives her a truly hilarious look. “Does this feel like I don’t want to?”

Jamie grins. There’s just something about being in this situation that is funnier than she knows what to do with--Dani, having just told her the kind of life story better suited to a horror film, in her flat, on her couch, kissing her neck. It feels like the wrong genre, somehow. Like the wires of the world have been crossed, and Jamie would give anything to leave them this way. 

Fact is, she hasn’t liked the way anything feels the way she likes this. Hasn’t liked the presence of anyone in her world--her town, her pub, her home--like she likes Dani. 

Known her five minutes, the intelligent, ever-shrinking part of her brain protests, even as she lets Dani coax her head back on the arm of the couch, even as she lets Dani suck gently at the skin just below her ear. 

Kinda knew it after one, she thinks, hands flexing on the back of Dani’s sweater. 

This isn’t like before, she recognizes. Last time, there was a hunger in Dani bordering on feral, like she was running so hard from something Jamie didn’t even know existed that only Jamie’s body had stopped her running right off the edge. Tonight, Dani looks at her and Jamie is confident--confident in a way she’s never been with anyone in her life--Dani is actually seeing her. Actually choosing her. 

“You said,” she hears herself say, even as she’s gripping Dani’s waist. Dani has moved to straddle one thigh now, is rocking slowly back and forth, making soft whimpering noises into every kiss she leaves on Jamie’s skin. “You said there are people you meet...”

Dani groans, and Jamie pulls at her hips faster, harder, liking the way Dani is panting against her shoulder. “You feel you should have known all along,” she finishes, turning her head to kiss Jamie’s lips. “Yeah. Yeah.”

“Me too,” Jamie says, her own body straining to get closer. There are way too many clothes between them, she has decided, but it’s up to Dani to take them further. Up to Dani to decide what she’s okay with. After everything she just told Jamie downstairs, it’s the least Jamie can offer by way of comfort. 

When Dani pushes up enough to take Jamie with her, shoving the straps of her overalls down and dragging her t-shirt over her head, she figures she made the right call. 

“You too,” Dani says, looking at her--at her; Jamie feels quite certain this is what it feels like to jump and find yourself flying--as though she never again wants to look at anything else. Jamie nods, pressing their foreheads together, trying to catch her breath even as Dani is sliding curious hands down her chest. 

“Minute I met you. Minute I saw you. So, who’s crazy now?”

Dani laughs, and it’s the sweetest sound Jamie’s ever heard. This is different, she understands, so different from a quick fuck in a bathroom. This is going somewhere, even if neither of them have a map. 

She brings Dani to bed, wanting on some level deeper than decision to do this properly. It feels right, to guide Dani back onto clean sheets and cheap pillows, to help Dani out of her clothes in small, measured movements. It feels, she thinks with the clearest head in the world, like Dani was always supposed to be here. That no matter how the story unfolds, no matter how many roads it takes to get them here, this is the endpoint. Dani, gazing up at her, hair messy, smile angling against Jamie’s mouth. Dani, arching under her hand, saying her name in a sharp, heady way Jamie suddenly can’t do without. Dani, who says she’s crazy, who doesn’t say she’s haunted, clenching tight around Jamie like she was always supposed to be here. 

“Please,” Dani sighs, “Jamie.” And Jamie thinks, Whatever it is, yes. Whatever you need, yes. 

Five minutes, that nearly-banished whisper repeats. 

Knew after one, she thinks again, curling two fingers and watching Dani spiral. 

***

Jamie sleeps like she’s never been afraid of anything hiding in the dark. Lips parted, arms tossed without care, she sleeps more deeply than Dani would have guessed. Even when Dani rises, carefully removing the hand she had kept tucked around Jamie’s middle all night, Jamie barely stirs. 

I haven’t slept like that in years, Dani thinks with a rush of fondness. C’ept maybe last night. 

She wants to blame it on the sex, on Jamie working her over once, twice, three times before she’d even been able to reciprocate. Wants to say only good sex can knock a person out, banish nightmares that have been so present for so long, they’re really more like old friends. 

Wasn’t that, though, she thinks, pulling Jamie’s discarded t-shirt on and perching on Jamie’s side of the mattress. Was something else. 

There is a catharsis, maybe, in telling your story to someone who is really listening. A release not found anywhere else. She hadn’t meant to tell Jamie everything--had certainly not expected Jamie to, if not understand, accept it without a word of discouragement. If Dani had been listening to that story, with all its hidden bumps and screams, would she have been able to nod and kiss the storyteller without so much as a chuckle?

Maybe it depends on the storyteller. Or maybe it’s just Jamie. Jamie, who has seen her naked in two very different ways, and has yet to flinch from either. Jamie, who even now is sleepily rolling onto her back, groping along the pillow where Dani ought to be. 

“Dani?”

Her heart lurches, squeezes, the sound of her name as the first thing out of Jamie’s mouth bringing tears to her eyes.

“Here,” she croaks, and Jamie--eyes still shut against the burgeoning sunlight through thin curtains--stretches until her fingers find Dani’s wrist. Her face relaxes, her smile soft. 

“Thought I’d scared you off,” she says, a joke that isn’t a joke at all. Dani bends over her, kissing her cheek. She can still taste Jamie, can still feel the way Jamie gripped the sheets in both hands as she let Dani explore uncharted territory for what had felt like hours. 

“Not going anywhere,” she hears herself say, and though the terrible silence in her head seems to tighten, she feels as though it is true, somehow. For how long, she can’t say. But there is a confidence in the sentiment all the same, an assured little edge to it like a promise. 

“Good,” Jamie mumbles, curling toward her until her face presses against Dani’s hip. The kiss she leaves is clumsy, but Dani feels the heat of it go straight to her core all the same. 

How can I know I want that kiss every day for as long as I’m here? How can I possibly know that?

“You’re worrying,” Jamie says, nuzzling against her skin, eyes still shut. Dani smiles, sifts gentle fingers through tousled curls.

“How can you tell?”

“I am,” Jamie says in a voice like one tumbling back into sleep, “a genius.”

“You are,” Dani laughs, “still asleep.”

“Nope.” To prove her point, Jamie cracks open one eye. “See? Perfectly present, Poppins.”

Dani is, for the first time in a long time, perfectly present herself. It scares her a little--not as much as the beast scares her, not as much as the weight of exhaustion fitting itself around her shoulders and pressing down scares her, but all the same. This is fear, of a kind. And excitement, of another. 

And hope, maybe. Just a little scrap of it, lining the bottom. 

“I should go,” she says, and Jamie opens the other eye, groaning. 

“You should stay,” she suggests, sitting up and pressing close to punctuate the idea. As small as she is in sleep, she feels like she could take up the whole room, now. Dani licks her lips. 

“We open--”

“When I unlock that door,” Jamie finishes for her, something sly and delicious about the way she’s looking Dani over. “S’that my shirt?”

Dani shrugs, liking the way Jamie’s eyes make her feel like she needn’t have bothered with covering up at all. Jamie cups her cheek, kisses her with all the slow careful energy of a woman revving up for something glorious that might take all day. 

“You’re not...I mean...you remember what I said last night?” Dani doesn’t really want to be saying it, doesn’t really want to drag focus away from the way her entire body goes shock-bright when Jamie’s tongue slips into her mouth. Even as the words are coming out of her, her hands are sliding up Jamie’s body, familiarizing themselves once more with sleep-warm skin. 

“The part about feeling crazy?” Jamie breaks just enough to speak, still within kissing distance. Dani steels herself. 

“The part where I don’t understand what’s happening to me. But it is happening, Jamie. Whatever it is.”

Jamie, holding the back of her head, peers into her eyes. Dani holds her breath, waiting for the flinch, waiting for Jamie--no longer sex-addled--to find some sign of the beast behind her gaze. 

“I only see you,” Jamie says, as if reading her mind. She smiles, almost self-conscious. “I only see you, and I’d...like to keep seeing you. If you’ll stay.”

She should say no. Should say it’s unprofessional at best, utterly unwise on a deeper level at worst. Should say Jamie’s better off without her, everyone’s better off without her, who knows how much time she even has before the thing she’s carrying like a disease comes to call--Jamie, you can’t take this on. It isn’t fair. 

Don’t think fairness much comes into it, a voice very like Hannah’s echoes. She squeezes her eyes shut. 

“Hey.” Jamie isn’t trying to kiss her now, is holding one hand anchored to her ribs like she believes it’s the only thing keeping Dani from floating away. “Poppins. I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, all right? Just...I like you. Like you quite a lot, as it turns out. I’d like to see where...where this goes.”

She’s waiting, Dani realizes, for Dani to laugh at her. To say absolutely not. To say there is no chance in hell. How many women have said as much to Jamie before? How many women have shot her down for less?

I’d like to find out, she thinks with surprise. I’d like to find out everything about her. 

“I can’t make promises,” she says. “I don’t know how much--”

“But you have now,” Jamie says, somehow managing to interrupt without stealing the words from Dani’s mouth. “Yeah? You have right now. In this bed, with me. Wearing my shirt better than I ever have,” she adds, plucking at the hem until Dani can’t fight a smile. 

“Yeah, but--”

“So,” Jamie says, shifting gently until Dani is laying beside her, hip sinking into the mattress, eyes barely a breath from Jamie’s. “I promise today. Here. In this bed, with you...probably not wearing my shirt much longer, if I’m honest.”

Dani laughs. She’s moving toward Jamie without meaning to, their legs tangling. Jamie kisses her once, very softly.

“And I promise you this afternoon, if the morning goes all right. And this evening, if you aren’t screaming up the road by then. Tomorrow, we re-evaluate the whole thing. Decide how we feel then.”

Dani is nodding. Can’t seem to stop nodding.

“Each day,” Jamie says, punctuating every word with a long kiss Dani has no desire to see end, “on its own merit, Poppins. One at a time. If they stack up, they stack up.”

Dani, unable to resist, pulls her close. One at a time, she thinks. I can do that.

***

The young woman is tired. Exhausted, if she’s truly honest with herself. She feels as though there must be an endpoint to running, a marker down the road that says a person has gone as far as they are able. Rest now, she imagines that marker saying in a cheerily-bold script. Fall down now. Let go.

She isn’t there yet, she’s certain. As certain as she gets these days, anyway.  She doesn’t know how much a person can be expected to carry, or for how long, but at least there is Jamie. Jamie, who grins at her as they bustle around the pub like clockwork, who takes her to the stockroom under guise of replenishing the peanuts and has her muffling sighs against an open kiss, who looks at the calendar at month’s end and says, “Y’know, Poppins, boss man’ll be back next week. Thinking I could use a break from Bly. What d’you say?”

One day at a time, she thinks, but the idea of a road trip with Jamie is too much, too wonderful, to say no. It’s only an idea until it happens, she reminds herself. Only an idea until they’re in the car, Jamie’s hand covering hers, Jamie pressing down the gas pedal like the whole world is theirs to claim. 

She’s tired. Been tired a terribly long time, if she’s honest with herself. And maybe that’s just the way it goes, for anyone, even those too lucky for ghosts. Maybe the trick really is just finding someone to be tired around, someone who is willing to hold your hand, learn your secrets, kiss away your monsters. 

She might not be okay forever. Might not even be okay much longer. But Jamie’s making happy murmurs about Vermont and wanting to start a garden, and there’s a light in her eyes that makes Dani feel more alive than she has in months. 

A little longer, then. If the days stack up, so be it. It’s enough, just to try a little longer to find solid ground.

[c-optimistic]

stay

or, dani has a chronic illness (alternatively: tried getting a friend to write this but she said no—I know, cruel right?—so I wrote it and am posting it even though absolutely no one asked for it)

Jamie notices it first.

(At first, it’s surprising to Dani, that Jamie is paying just as much attention to her as she is to Jamie. It makes her cheeks flush with warmth, leaves her unable to look away from Jamie’s soft eyes, has her aching to reach out and take Jamie’s hand and—

Dani breathes in, shoving those thoughts aside.)

Flora’s raced off into the garden, Miles chasing after her, and Dani leans against the entrance to Bly Manor, hands on hips, trying to manage her breathing. Her heart is pounding away in her chest, her head spinning, vision spotty. For a moment, she’s worried she’ll collapse—she’s been so careful for so long and she hasn’t felt quite this bad since well….

She’s not sure. She doesn’t think it’s ever been this bad.

Just as she straightens, feeling a bit more certain on her wobbly legs, she feels a hand on her shoulder, a gentle tug pulling on the back of her sweater.

“I’ve nothing to do right now,” Jamie tells her, grinning at her as she releases Dani’s shoulder and steps up next to her. “Why don’t I watch the goblins for a bit?”

“You really shouldn’t call them that,” Dani protests, but it’s weak and she doesn’t actually care, knowing that Jamie doesn’t mean it and much more interested in the way Jamie’s fingers brush against the back of her hand as she releases her sweater and walks backwards just past her. “And only Miles is really the goblin. Flora’s an angel.”

Jamie’s eyes rove over her face, clearly looking for something, and she ignores Dani’s comment. “Why don’t you take a break? Owen and Hannah are having tea—the real kind, not whatever it is you make. You should join them.”

“Oh, I don’t know—”

“—c’mon, Poppins. Everyone can use a break.”

Dani swallows, pretending she doesn’t hear the knowing undercurrent in Jamie’s assertion, and she nods, tearing her eyes away from Jamie’s and focusing on her shoes. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. You’re right. I’ll go...get some tea.”

Jamie waits, clearly intending to watch Dani turn and go back inside, one eyebrow raised, as if daring Dani to do what she wants to do—sneak past Jamie and get to the kids. “The tea will be getting cold then, and despite what you think it’s not supposed to be cold,” Jamie prods, gesturing with her chin towards the Manor, and Dani caves.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she says, holding her hands up in surrender. She doesn’t need Jamie’s huff of laughter to know that she’s still being watched as she turns back around and heads towards the kitchen (though all she really wants is to go up to her room, to sink into her bed, to drift off into an undisturbed slumber), accepting that she has no choice but to take a break.

(And when she sits down with Owen and Hannah, they’re all smiles, not questioning why Jamie took over for her, Owen pulling out the cookies—or were they called biscuits?—Dani likes that he makes sure to keep on hand for ‘special occasions,’ Hannah telling her about her latest foray into town, and Dani wonders if Jamie was the first to notice after all.

She wonders if maybe Jamie was just the first to call her out on it.)

x

“Miss Clayton?” Flora begins, dropping her doll and turning to look at Dani with an oddly mature expression of worry. “Are you all right?”

Dani stops picking up Flora’s clothes and frowns, confused at the question. “Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”

Flora doesn’t seem to want to say. She gets to her feet, abandoning her massive dollhouse, and slides into bed without prompting, pulling her covers up to her chin. “Do you promise not to tell anyone I told you?” she asks, waiting for Dani to nod and sit down on the edge of the bed before she continues. “Miles and I played hide and seek the other day, and I hid in the stairwell near the kitchen. Mrs. Grose spoke to Jamie about you. They said they were worried about how you’re doing.”

(Dani is conflicted. On one hand, she appreciates the obvious concern everyone in this house has for her, the affection that leads them to notice she needs a break or to worry about how she’s doing. But a less charitable part of her is annoyed.

She’s not some weak damsel in need of saving, and she doesn’t appreciate the others talking behind her back and treating her as if she is.)

“You don’t need to worry about what they said,” Dani tells her, reaching out to smooth back her hair. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sick?” Flora asks, her concern not dissipating.

“No, Flora, I’m not sick.”

Flora doesn’t seem very convinced, but she nods into her blankets and shifts to her side. When Dani is halfway across the room, ready for bed herself, Flora speaks up once more. “Is it something that gets better?” she asks, sounding far older and wiser than a child had any right to. Dani turns around and gives Flora her best smile.

“Good night, sweet girl,” she says, and she thinks that her non-answer is answer enough.

x

She didn’t know about it until after Eddie. After what happened to him.

(She’d see his face, his illuminated glasses, and she’d think—for a heart-stopping moment—that her fiancé was haunting her. But then, as she regained control over her lungs, she’d notice it was a trick of the light, a glare off a window.

Eventually, she’d see a doctor. Eventually, he’d tell her there was something very wrong.

Eventually, she’d packed up and just...left, tired of all the looks from everyone back at home, at the whispers of ‘isn’t it just tragic?’ and ‘first him, now her.’)

Sometimes, she doesn’t think anything is wrong at all.

Sure, she’s more tired than usual. And sure, sometimes she wakes up in the dead of night, clutching at her chest, trying to ignore her heart’s abnormal stuttering, wincing at the ache in her head. But usually, usually her heart beats slow and steady, usually her breathing is even and measured, usually her head is filled with nothing but the day’s plans for the children and how the shirt Jamie is wearing suits her.

Each reminder that something is wrong, each time she’s forced to confront the truth that her own body is failing her, betraying her, it feels like the first time—sitting in that doctor’s office, listening to him talk but not really hearing, the words washing over her as her heart began an irregular beat with which she’d soon become quite familiar.

Dani has always been very good at hiding things. She hid how she only felt friendship for Eddie for years, only breaking at the prospect of life in a loveless marriage. And now, she hides this, the headaches, the seeing things, the exhaustion, the stuttering heart soldiering on despite every agonizing beat.

She hides, but Jamie’s watchful, tender eyes are on her, ready to rush forward at a moment’s notice; Hannah’s soothing presence is always just within reach; Owen’s thoughtful care has him anticipating her needs before she knows what they even are.

(She’s not used to this. People who see her, who love her, who stay even when things get hard.

And it breaks her heart that once they learn the truth—when they discover that her faltering heart is sending defective blood to her every extremity, that her rattling lungs struggle to fill with air, that each step is a step closer to the point of no return—they will want nothing to do with her.

More than that, she wouldn’t want them to.)

x

One afternoon, as Jamie, Hannah, and Owen watch Dani force the kids to work in the garden, looking terribly amused by the turn of events, she finds herself thinking that it’s unfair she only got to meet Jamie now.

Jamie is like...a breath of fresh air. Or, perhaps more accurately, that first inhale after being submerged underwater for a touch too long. It’s as if her chest was bursting from the pressure and then—

—then came Jamie, then came release.

(She looks like second chances and Dani would swear she tastes like possibility and there’s a part of her that’s desperate to find out.

Desperate to know if her touch would feel like home.)

But Dani doesn’t know how to put those feelings—feelings she’s never had for anyone else—into words. So she settles for long stares, for wistful looks, for furtive glances—hoping against hope Jamie hasn’t noticed how many times Dani looks her way throughout the day.

(She rather wishes it hadn’t happened at all, instead of happening now. Meeting Jamie, getting drawn into those eyes, gravitating to her presence.

Because now...well, now it’s all moot. Now it doesn’t matter. She’s marked, she’s damaged, she’s broken.

She has timer ticking down to an uncertain but looming date, and she can’t afford to allow anyone to be in the vicinity when that last second arrives, doesn’t want anyone to be hit by her leftover shrapnel in the resulting explosion.

But Jamie looks at her like she’d brave it anyway, and sometimes Dani wants so much to cave.)

“I think you missed a section,” Jamie says from where she sits, gesturing to an untouched plot of the garden, giving Miles a grin. She doesn’t even try to hide her enjoyment when he looks to Dani for help and doesn’t get it, when he crawls over to where Jamie pointed out and begins to tug on weeds. “Y’know, Poppins,” Jamie says conversationally when Dani gets up to go sit next to her, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming, “this wasn’t a half bad idea. There are plenty of plants that need watering too, spare me waking up before sunrise every morning.”

Dani looks at her, wanting so much—so much—to cave (to reach out, to touch, to—). But she just smiles and shakes her head, forces herself to focus. “I think they learned their lesson.”

Jamie shrugs, turns her attention back to Hannah and Owen, and it feels like Dani’s been submerged again.

x

She has a really good week—no aches, no pains, no exhaustion, her lungs expanding without any effort on her part.

One week, and it’s like maybe she’s fine. Maybe it had all been in her head.

(A week to hope, a week to think about everything she’d stopped allowing herself to think about—like hopes and plans and endless tomorrows.

A week to feel normal, to feel excited, to look forward to what the future would bring.

She got one week.)

One week, and then she collapses on the stairs as she’s chasing after the kids.

(Flora screams, at least she thinks so. She hears something, but her vision is spotty and her head feels full of cotton, and she’s unsure for a moment where she is. A part of her expects to open her eyes and see Eddie standing over her, his expression hard and set.)

The next thing she knows, she’s being looked over by the sole doctor in town as she lays on the couch in the sitting room, everyone (Hannah, Owen, Flora, Miles, and Jamie) gathered around her, a fire roaring in the fireplace.

The doctor pockets his stethoscope and gives her a sad smile when he notices she’s awake. “I told you when you first came to me, Miss Clayton,” he begins softly, everyone listening in with rapt attention, “your health—”

“—I know, I know,” Dani interrupts, and he seems to take the hint, pulling back and nodding slowly. (When she got this job, she’d sought the kind doctor out, telling him about her diagnosis, telling him about exactly what she’d need from him. And she remembers the way he had looked at her, the way he hadn’t questioned her, just looking over all the records she’d brought with her and nodding slowly in silent acceptance.)

“Rest, won’t you?” he says, patting her shoulder before taking his leave, Owen and Hannah following him, as if intent on getting him alone to get some answers. But Dani only has eyes for the kids and for Jamie, the three of whom are looking at her worriedly, Flora going as far as coming around to take Dani’s hand.

“I’ve an idea,” Jamie says before Dani can think of an explanation, an excuse, some way to make her collapsing less serious than she knows it is. “Why don’t we all hang out with Miss Clayton a bit?” she asks, looking at Flora, then Miles. “Keep her company?”

“Like a slumber party?” Miles asks, a smile appearing on his face.

“Oh, that would be perfectly splendid!” says Flora, releasing Dani’s hand in order to clap. “Can we, Miss Clayton? I’ll stay up all night!”

Dani shifts on the couch, noticing Owen and Hannah making their way back and then catching Jamie’s eye, and she decides that caving a little—just a touch—couldn’t possibly hurt. “That sounds like a good idea,” she finds herself saying.

“Excellent,” Owen laughs, making a face at Flora that has her giggling. “How about some hot chocolate for the kids, and some adult hot chocolate for the rest of us?”

“Can I have adult hot chocolate?” Miles asks, looking to Dani and Hannah for permission, shoulders slumping when he gets two unequivocal no’s.

(And much, much later, long after Jamie helps Dani carry the kids to their beds, long after she finds Jamie sleeping on the couch in the morning, long after Owen and Hannah disappeared to who knows where, Dani finds herself caving once more.

She finds herself reaching out and squeezing Jamie’s hand, holding on for just a touch too long, finds herself memorizing the look on Jamie’s face in response, finds herself smiling at Jamie’s quiet who the hell knew?, and finds herself thinking that yes, Jamie does feel like home.

And she finds herself wanting it even more.)

x

She confesses nearly everything to Jamie in her greenhouse, surrounded by the plants Jamie loves so much, feeling remarkably safe in the dark and pressed up against Jamie’s warmth.

(Later, she thinks it was the influence of the alcohol, the fact that Owen’s mother just passed, the fact that she hadn’t slept well in what felt like decades.

But the truth—something she thinks she’s only able to admit to herself in the dead of night, when exhaustion has seeped in, leaving her vulnerable to honesty—is that she’s been desperate to tell Jamie. She’s wanted to, needed to, felt absolutely driven to, from the first moment she laid eyes on the gardener and knew—somewhere deep in her stuttering heart—that she’s something special.)

“You must think I’m crazy,” she mumbles after she’s finished, unsure which part she’s referring to. The fact that she’d thought she could see Eddie after he died? That she ran to the other side of the world to get away from pitying eyes? That she took a job in the middle of nowhere, with children who’d dealt with more than their fair share of grief, because it offered an escape she was too weak to resist?

Jamie’s eyes don’t stray from Dani’s. “No, you’re actually surprisingly sane, considering,” she says lightly, surprising a laugh out of Dani. “So is that your big, dark secret, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a bit of a weirdo, Poppins. And I would’ve thought it’s because your ex-fiancé is haunting you, not something normal like this.”

Dani’s heart stutters, but not in the way she’s used to. It’s a swooping feeling, like your breath has been knocked out of you by a surprise, not because your lungs can’t fill with air. “Normal?” she repeats, knowing—knowing—she’s looking too intensely at Jamie, but not able to stop.

“Well, yeah,” Jamie says, shrugging a little awkwardly. “Something in your body is shit at its job. People are shit at their jobs all the time. It’s—”

And Dani caves.

She cuts Jamie off with a kiss, does the one thing she’s wanted to do since she first met the gardener, pulls her closer by the collar of her jacket, fingers snaking into Jamie’s hair, and—

—and her head swims, dizziness sets in, and she knows if her eyes had been open, her vision would be spotty.

Dani pulls back with a start, at the stark reminder of the ‘shit’ job her body is doing, and her heart resumes its irregular, erratic beat.

“It’s okay, Dani,” Jamie tells her repeatedly, “we’re good.”

But even as Jamie smiles at her reassuringly, Dani can’t help but feel she’s let home slip between her fingers.

x

She caves again (and again).

She caves and goes to Jamie (replaying the words ‘Poppins, you flirt’ over and over again in her head), caves when Jamie shows her the moonflower, caves that night as Jamie is fast asleep and Dani is wide awake, tracing her fingers lightly over the scar on Jamie’s back. She caves when she asks Jamie to come back and Jamie tells her there will be other nights and she can do nothing but ask ‘promise?’ and try not sway on her feet as she feels a rush of warmth when Jamie answers back with a nod and ‘promise.’

She caves again and again (and again).

And somewhere in between all that, she stops noticing her heart’s erratic beat, stops associating breathlessness with anything other than Jamie’s kisses, stops focusing on the pain that Jamie’s touch somehow manages to dull.

Dani caves and somewhere along the way she thinks, maybe. She thinks yes, I can have this too. She thinks it’s okay to do this.

She caves, forgetting what’s lurking in her own heart and lungs and veins, forgetting she’s making a mistake.

x

Hannah is lighting candles again when Dani goes looking for her, wanting to ask her to watch the kids later in the week. She doesn’t look up when Dani sits at the second pew, but she does let out a soft sigh as she finishes lighting the last candle and then moves to come over and sit next to Dani.

There’s silence for a moment, Dani wanting to be respectful, but then Hannah turns to her, looking a little curious. “It’s none of my business, but I just wanted to say, Jamie’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her. I’d wager that’s got a lot to do with you.” She doesn’t sound anything but pleased, so Dani meets her eyes, feeling a little flushed.

“She makes me happy, too,” she says, ducking her head. “But I just…” She trails off, not quite sure how to word her thoughts, how to admit that in the depths of her heart she’s got no doubt she’s known Jamie her whole life, that she’s meant to have found Jamie, to be with her. She doesn’t know how to say that she’s terrified out of her mind because even if Jamie is happy now, the only thing Dani can promise her is a great deal of pain.

(She is intimately familiar with how loss can hollow you out, how it can leave you feeling helpless and hopeless in the face of a vast, cold universe.

She doesn’t know how to condemn someone she’s pretty sure she’s falling for to that sort of pain. She doesn’t want to.)

Hannah reaches out and pats her hand gently, then leans back against the pew.

“Love is funny,” she begins, seemingly reading Dani’s mind. “It’s sweet and freeing, but just as much as you don’t have a choice in who you fall in love with, I don’t think you can choose what someone is willing to endure for you.”

“But it’s not fair, it wouldn’t be fair,” Dani protests, drawing Hannah’s eyes.

“Well, whoever said love was fair?” she asks with a laugh. “All any of us can do, really, is love with our whole heart with whatever time we have. That has to be enough.”

x

The second time her health takes a turn for the worse, it’s not as dramatic as collapsing on the stairs. Instead, she just can’t get out of bed.

It’s painfully embarrassing, the way Hannah brings her breakfast, helps her sit up in bed, even steadies her shaking hand as she tries to sip her tea. It’s somehow worse when Owen drops by with lunch later, telling her he’d ‘gone full American’ and made some of her favorites.

But when Jamie arrives, not covered in dirt for once, Dani feels a bit of panic set in at the very thought of what she has to do—how she has to convince this woman to move on, find someone who isn’t tainted like she is.

(This is what Dani knows without a doubt: Jamie is the ‘spend forever with you’ sort of person for her, the only one who has ever made her feel safe in the storm, heard in the silence, seen in the dark.

This is what Dani knows without a single doubt: Jamie already expects everyone she meets to in someway disappoint her, and it would break Dani’s heart if she was one of those people too.)

So she decides on telling the truth.

“I’m sick you know,” Dani says just as Jamie sits down at the edge of the bed, hand resting remarkably close to Dani’s.

She raises an eyebrow. “I gathered that much, yeah.”

“No, Jamie. I’m sick,” Dani tries, the words getting stuck to the roof of her mouth, suddenly unwilling to say more. “I won’t get better, I’ll never get better. It’ll just get worse and then—” She cuts herself off, blinking rapidly, trying to prevent the onset of tears.

Jamie doesn’t say anything for a beat, just stares, before she pulls her hand back. It’s just an inch, barely even that, but it feels like miles, and Dani wishes she could take it all back. “Oh,” Jamie says eventually, her previous wry amusement fading entirely to be replaced by a soft frown.

“It’s just,” Dani starts, “you don’t get it. I have this feeling, you know? Like I’m walking through this dense, overgrown jungle and I can’t see anything. Nothing but for the path immediately ahead of me. But I know there’s this thing hidden, this angry, empty, lonely beast. And one day, who knows when, that’ll be it. I’ll be devoured.” Her tears finally escape, rolling down her cheek and onto her covers. She thinks Jamie follows the path with her eyes, but she’s not sure, can’t tell when her vision is blurred by tears. After a second, she more feels than sees Jamie shift on the bed.

“Do you want some company?” Jamie asks, and when Dani blinks her vision clear, she can see that Jamie’s holding up her hand, pinky sticking out.

“What?”

“While you’re in that jungle, waiting for the beast, do you want some company?”

(She thinks about what Hannah said, about not being able to choose what someone is willing to endure for you. She thinks about how Jamie has offered this in light of the entire, complete truth.

She thinks about how Jamie is still here, still wanting to be present, even as Dani confesses the thing she’s run from since Eddie died.)

Dani hooks their pinkies together, nodding, and she’s pretty sure—if miracles or magic or the fantastic truly existed—her body would have repaired its damaged cells when Jamie presses a kiss to Dani’s hand.

And yet, she finds Jamie's presence—her warmth, her smile, her choice—to be miracle enough.

x

They decide to leave Bly.

(Flora hugs her tightly, makes her promise she’ll visit soon; Hannah and Owen tell her to take care of herself, that they’ll keep in touch; and as Jamie helps Dani put the last of their things in her truck, as she pulls away from the Manor, Dani looks back once, idly wondering if she’ll ever be able to make her way back here.)

At first, they choose to just travel. They make a list of things they always wanted to see, then systematically go through it, hopping from place to place with no real intent—no real idea of what tomorrow will hold.

But then one day, Jamie starts to plan.

She hands a cup of tea over to Dani, raising her eyebrows as if to say this is how it’s done, then tugs out the journal where they’ve listed all their travel destinations. “I think we can skip over seeing the south, I’m not too keen on going anyway, but I hear the fall here,” she points at one of the places Dani has listed, “is quite nice. So we could start heading that way.”

“Fall is months away,” Dani says, setting her tea aside.

Jamie doesn’t notice, just sips at her own tea and hums. “That’s how the seasons work, yeah,” she says absentmindedly, clearly trying to map out their next few months in her head. She seems to finally register Dani’s stiffness and her tone, because she looks up after a beat, giving Dani the softest of smiles. “Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours,” she says, holding out a hand. “The beast’s not come yet and I want to stay, here with you. All you have to do is let me.”

(Stay.

On Jamie’s lips it sounds like more, like a confession neither of them have been brave enough to utter yet. And Dani’s heart stutters at the thought, but not because it’s struggling to beat, not because it’s working too hard.

No, her heart stutters because she’s excited.

For so long, she never thought past today. But now, with Jamie, she’s looking forward to countless tomorrows.)

Jamie looks at her, chooses her, stays with her, and once again (because it’s Jamie, because she’s starting to think maybe she’s not so broken after all) Dani caves and takes Jamie’s hand.

“Actually,” she says with a small smile, her eyes on the future, “what do you think about starting a business together? Maybe a flower shop?”

Jamie smiles brilliantly, taking the idea and running with it, flipping to a new page in the journal and jotting down ideas as she speaks, and all Dani can do is soak it all in. And she thinks, when they finally go visit Owen and Hannah in Paris, she’ll tell Hannah that loving someone with your whole heart with whatever time you’ve got is more than just enough—it’s everything.

[princess-geek]

Love Lesson

This fic is dedicated to my guardian angel @storyofmychoices. Besides she's a wonderful a writer, she's an incredible human being whose kind and light are endless. I never could thank her enough for what she has been doing for me.

Dear Dani, I know you usually don't read Hunt's fics written by other authors, but I hope you accept this one.

I hope you enjoyed it 😊💕

Choices Book: Red Carpet Diaries (a couple of years after Book 3)

Characters: Thomas Hunt, Miss Taylor (@storyofmychoices ), mentions to Jessica Massena (my RDC MC) and Matt Rodriguez.

Words: 1748

Warnings: none

Notes: English is not my first language. Please, excuse me any typos /or grammatical errors.   

Special thanks to @alj4890 for be by beta reader.

Jessica Massena exclusive pregnancy photos -  The most handsome Hollywood parents to be talk about the challenges of parenthood.

Thomas sighed and poured some more of the expensive scotch in the glass. He has no idea why he was wasting his time reading garbage press. He'll be the baby's godfather. He knew every detail about the issue. All the sacrifices she did to conceive...how the first months of nausea got her down. But now, she was radiant...healthy...happy...with Matt. 

She had woken up his senses and melted his heart unlike any other woman in years. He never actually had confessed his feelings because it was clear like crystal whom her heart belonged to.  For a while, it drove him crazy. Nowadays, he had made peace with his feelings and he came back to his old self. He also recognized that it was nothing more than a crush, a fever of an almost middle-aged man caused by her infectious joy.  Jessica Massena was a closed chapter in his life.

He abandoned the magazine and refocused on his research. A tragic death of a beloved teacher in a shooting at a high school inspired him to approach the question of USA public schools’ problems. He had read tons of news and academic papers about it, but they were too theoretical. He needed to breath that air, step on those dirty floors, hear the sounds. So, he decided to visit some public schools in area.

Since he was invited to speak at a university conference in New York, Thomas decided to visit some schools there too.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kids and teens. Many. Too many. It was a banal New York school. Perfect.

As he wandered through the corridors, he saw a girl crying, hidden in the corner of lockers. Thomas wanted to do something, but he didn't know what to do or even what to say to calm the girl down. He never had a good way with children.

While Thomas was still distressed in his dilemma, a brunette stopped her hurried march, stepped back, placed a giant coffee cup on the floor and knelt beside the girl.

She gently wiped the girl's tears away. Thomas couldn't hear clearly what they were talking about, but he noticed that the girl calmed down as the woman spoke to her and stroked her hair.

“After class, I promise I'll go with you to talk to the principal. They can't do that and get away with it!”  the brunette promised hugging the girl tightly.

It was the last thing Thomas heard before the bell rings.

With confusion in the crowded corridors, Thomas lost sight of the girl and the brunette. 

The school board recommended him to visit Miss Taylor's class, classroom no.51. It took a while, but he finally found the classroom. Before knocking on the door, Thomas suddenly felt nervous, with a knot in his stomach.

‘In the name of art, Thomas, in the name of art …' he murmured before knocking.

The door opened. Many pairs of expectant eyes looked back at him with curiosity. When the door opened a little more, it revealed the brunette he had seen with the girl.

His eyes fixed on her sweet chestnut for a moment, and, no matter how cliché and cheesy this may be, his heart literally skipped a beat. Thomas felt an inexplicable warmth come to his face. Fortunately, the beard would camouflage his rosy cheeks. Whatever happened in those seconds, it didn't seem to affect the brunette who looked away.

“Is this Miss Taylor’s class?”

“Yes.”

“I have permission from school board to attend your class. I’m…”

“I know who you’re... please come in,” she smiled shyly, “I apologize for not having a seat for you ... the room is at its maximum capacity ... but if you want you can sit at my desk…”

“No way, Miss Taylor! Don’t worry about me. I am going to the back of the room. You won't even notice my presence. Thank you for having me.”

 She just nodded.

“Class, let me introduce you Mr. Hunt. He is a famous director…”

“We watched one of his movies a few weeks ago, didn't we, Miss Taylor?”

“Yes, we did…”

“Mr. Hunt, Miss Taylor is a huge a fan of you…she said she watched all your movies…”

Miss Taylor's cheeks changed to increasingly reddish tones.

“Kids let me finish, please…”

“Is it true that Jessica Massena blow you off?”

“Samantha don’t be nosy! I’m so sorry, Mr. Hunt…they’re well behaves kids. I'm sure this is the excitement speaking for them,”

“I'm not making anything up ... it's in all the magazines!” Samantha protested.

“Miss Taylor is single, and she already has a soft spot for you…You could ask her out!” another girl added.

“Children, you’re crossing the line ... one more inappropriate observation and you are grounded!”

“That’s okay, miss Taylor…they’re just kids.” Thomas said.

“Thank you for understanding, Mr. Hunt...As I was saying, Mr. Hunt will be here at school for some days and attend some classes for research proposals.”

“This is for a new movie?”

“Can we be part of it?”

The students were even more excited.

It took some time for them to calm down, but little by little, Miss Taylor, in a sweet and serene voice, managed to calm them down and refocus their attention on her.

After correcting homework, Miss Taylor started her Math lesson. The way she explained it was truly remarkable…inspiring. She put in those numbers the same passion he had seen in the greatest actresses.

She was very affectionate with the students. One of them was having troubles in understanding an exercise. Miss Taylor explained it once, twice, three times ... always calmly and patiently.

“Very good! I knew you could do this.” Miss Taylor encouraged the student.

Jessica Massena was a consuming fire, but the brunette teacher was warming his soul, a kind of heat that settles on the skin, on the bones and makes us feel good and at peace.

From time to time, when she thought he wasn’t looking, Miss Taylor threw him a discreet shy look. When their eyes locked, she blushed, adjusted her hair nervously and looked away.

Thomas found himself completely mesmerized. In fact, he felt like he was in one of those cheesy movies where the main character is completely lost gazing at the girl, there is a pop romantic ballad playing in the background and the sun shines brighter.

 He didn't notice time passing, delighted to hear and observe her. The bell woke him from the trance.

“Sorry again for the kids... and for and the indiscreet remarks.”

“No need to apologize. It's part of the children's charm ... at least that's what people say.”

“I hope you found our class useful for your research.”

“Yes...thank you for having me...”

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Whenever one looked, the other looked away.

“The pleasure was ours. If there is anything that kids or I can do for help...”

He barely heard her, captivated by her natural features. Her lips were two beautiful pink lines. Thomas had never thought of his life being enchanted by a nose, but Miss Taylor's nose was the cutest nose he had ever seen. The director was so distracted that he didn’t notice he was leaning against a desk, which, at some point, gave in to his weight, causing him to lose his balance.

She tried to grab his arm to hold him, but the force of gravity had no mercy and the director ended up falling on the floor dragging Miss Taylor with him who landed on top of him.

Just a couple of inches were separating their lips. “Kiss her!” a voiced shouted in a corner of his head, “Are you crazy, Thomas?” another inner voice replied, “You’ve only known her for a couple of hours ... What would she think of you?”

I must have hit my head very hard... his rational self thought.

“Oh Lord, I’m so sorry, Miss Taylor...Are you okay?”

“Yes...and you? I’m so sorry. I was trying help and my clumsiness got things worse like the usual…”

“No, it was all my fault, Miss Taylor.”

Her perfume. It was not like the expensive signature perfume the women who he usually crossed paths. Her hair smelled like honey and her perfume was soft with hints of flowers.

“Maybe we should get up?”

“Yes, of course, sorry.” Thomas babbled.

She got up first and held out her hand to help him. Thomas declined delicately. A gentleman must help the lady and not the other way around.

However, when he got up, he fell out of balance again, falling once more.

Miss Taylor smiled to avoid laughter.

“You can laugh. This is absolutely ridiculous,” Thomas said, allowing a smile to appear on his lips.

He rose from the ground with as much dignity as possible, shaking the dust and smoothing his blazer. Moved by the instinct of help, Miss Taylor helped him to clean up. At some moment, their fingers touched and grazed each other’s for some seconds. She blushed and took her hand from his arm.

“May I offer you to a coffee? I mean, offer a coffee to you…as an I’m sorry coffee,”

“You don’t have to do it, Mr. Hunt…”

“Just Thomas, please…and I insist…It’d be a pleasure for me.”

“I…I'd love it…”

“Great! Do you recommend any place special?”

“Wait , I can’t…I’m sorry, I promised to help a student after classes…she really needs me today…I’m sorry…”

“She…your students are lucky to have you.”

Miss Taylor blushed. “I’m not that special…I just love what I do…I think you can understand me on that point…You used to be a professor too...and, you know how it is...When we love our job, we don’t just do it...we breathe it.”

Yes, he could understand that. And he was understanding that this he was feeling was something he shouldn’t ignore.

“I’ll come back tomorrow to Mr. Somerset’s classroom. Maybe, after classes tomorrow?”

She smiled.

“Until tomorrow.”

Thomas gently grabbed her hand, taking it to his lips and planting a gentle kiss on it, “I’m counting the minutes. Have a lovely evening, Miss Taylor.”

He made his way out of the classroom, but not resisting to steal some glances of her along the way, which cost him a blow to the shin, courtesy of desk’s iron leg. When he threw a last glance at the doorway, she said:

“Danielle. My name is Danielle.”