#i do think he’s afraid of forgetting river. how could he not be.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Not Dead Yet | Part 01

-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Medium-Fem!Reader

-> Sypnosis: After a strange encounter, Jeonghan wakes up outside of his body. The only person who can see him is Y/N, a woman with a gift (or curse as she would call it) who is able to see and communicate with the deceased. But Jeonghan isn't dead... not yet anyway.

-> Warnings: Supernatural au. There is a mention of God's and collapsing. Jeonghan is a bit of a heart breaker/player. Only mentioned once that reader has dark hair. This was going to be just a prologue but it ended up a chapter.

-> Word Count: 1,605

-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Not Dead Yet Masterlist | SEVENTEEN M.List

As Jeonghan walks with Ji-Ah, the woman he’s been seeing for the last three weeks, alongside the Han River, he takes this moment to do what he’s been trying to do all night. He drops her hand as he stops walking and turns to face the river, his arms resting on the railing. Ji-Ah notices the shift in the atmosphere as soon as Jeonghan lets go of her hand. The warmth of his touch is replaced by a sudden chill in the air. With concern, she turns to face him but before she could say anything, he starts to speak.  

“Ji-Ah,” he begins, his voice feigning regret. “I’m sorry, this just isn't working for me.”   

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve only just started getting to know each other.”  

He can hear the hurt in her voice but he feels no sympathy. “Listen, Ji-Ah,” he continues, starting his well-rehearsed go-to break up speech, “You’re an incredible woman. It’s just that I don’t think we’re a good match. I’m sure there’s someone wonderful out there for you. I just don’t think I’m that person.” 

“But it’s my birthday,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she fights back tears. 

"Aish," he mutters under his breath, recalling the reason they had gone out for dinner in the first place. For a fleeting moment, he feels a pang of guilt but quickly suppresses it. 

“I thought we had something special,” she sobs, unable to contain her tears any longer.  

"It's only been three weeks," he blurts out, not realizing the words had escaped him until he sees her expression, a mix of hurt and disbelief with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Do you even care?” Ji-Ah’s voice is barely above a whisper as it cuts through her cries.  

“Of course I care,” he says looking at her with faux sympathy and feeling slightly awkward that this wasn’t ending as quickly as he hoped. After all, they’d only been on four dates in the span of three weeks. According to him, that wasn’t a long enough time to get attached to someone. “I’m doing this because I care about you. I don’t want to waste your time on something that’s never going to work out. This way, you can find someone who truly deserves you and is worth your time.” 

“So, this is it?” she asks wiping her tears away. 

“I’m afraid so,” he nods.  

“Okay,” she says trying to put on a brave face and forget the embarrassment and hurt that’s coursing through her. “Thank you for making my birthday awful. I hope I never see you again.” 

“I hope so too,” he says, his words once again slipping out before he could stop them.  

“Maybe you’re right,” she concedes, her expression taking on one of offence. “This wouldn’t have worked out because you’re an asshole. I feel sorry for your next girlfriend.” With that she walks away deliberately bumping her shoulder against him as she passes. 

He grumbles to himself about how that could have gone a lot quicker and pulls out his phone, finding the number of the woman he met the day before and quickly sends her a text 'plans fell through. Do you want to meet up in 30 minutes?'.  

With a smile on his face, he makes his way back towards where his car is parked occasionally checking his phone for a reply. As he reaches his car, he finds a strange man wearing a black top hat, a bright orange suede jacket and horrendous green pants leaning against the tailgate. His expression is blank, not giving Jeonghan any indication of what his motives could be, but his deep brown eyes are fixed intently on him making Jeonghan feel like he was looking right into his soul. 

"Can I help you?" he asks the man with a hint of annoyance.  

"When are you going to stop breaking these lovely ladies' hearts?" the man replies, his voice calm and steady. "Yoon Jeonghan.” 

"Do I know you?" He asks, his eyes widening slightly. He’s 99% sure he’s never seen this man before this moment. 

“You don’t, but I’ve been watching you,” he replies, moving away from the car and steps closer to him. The man’s gaze remains steady, and Jeonghan feels a shiver run down his spine. There’s something unsettling about the way this stranger seems to know him. It’s as if he’s been examined under a microscope.  

Jeonghan shifts his weight, attempting to shake off the sudden wave of vulnerability that washes over him. "Look, I don’t know who you are or how you think you know me, but I’m not interested in whatever you have to say." 

The stranger chuckles softly, a sound that feels oddly out of place given the tension in the air. "Oh, but you should be, Yoon Jeonghan. I’m not here to lecture you on your romantic escapades. In fact, I’m here to give you a warning." 

“A warning?” Jeonghan furrows his brow, trying to make sense of the cryptic words. The man’s presence is unsettling, and the way he speaks feels almost as if he’s reciting lines from a play or a movie. “What warning? And how can I trust you? I don’t even know your name.”  

“You don’t need to know my name right now,” the man tells him. “The only person who will be able to see you will know my name and that’s when you’ll learn it.” 

"I really don’t have time for this," Jeonghan sighs, shaking his head as he goes to take a step past him to get into his car. "I have plans that I need to get to.” 

"Plans, you say?” The man says, tilting his head slightly, as if considering Jeonghan’s words. “I’m afraid the only plans you have are with the Gods.” 

Caught by surprise, Jeonghan turns back to the man, confusion written on his face. “The Gods? I don-” 

“Oops,” the man winces as he clicks his fingers and Jeonghan collapses to the ground unconscious. “Probably should have given him a heads-up first,” he says and then shrugs before walking away. “I did try to warn him.” 

When jeonghan finally regains awareness, he sits up and finds himself in a hospital room. The faint beeping of machines that monitor his vitals, rings loudly in his ears, the smell of antiseptic fills his nostrils and the fluorescent lights are harsh against his eyes. Before he could panic about how he ended up in hospital, the man from earlier enters his mind. The stranger’s words echo inside his head, a haunting reminder of the bizarre encounter they had and the warning he tried to give him. 

Wanting to find a nurse or doctor so he could get discharged knowing there can't be anything wrong with him, he gets out of bed and makes his way to the door.  

As he exits the room, a nurse walks by. He tries to get her attention by calling to her but she continues as if she doesn't hear him. Thinking she was being rude. He tries again as another nurse walks past him but she too ignores him. 

"Excuse me!" Jeonghan raises his voice, desperation slowly sinking into his tone. "Can someone please help me? I want to go home."  

But the nurses and other hospital staff continue past him, their expressions blank. It's as if he’s nothing more than a ghost haunting the halls of the hospital.  

Frustration bubbles within him, and he takes a step forward, determined to find someone who will acknowledge his presence. The fluorescent lights hum overhead and his heart races as he wanders down the corridor. He glances into the rooms he passes, catching glimpses of patients lying in beds, some asleep, some having visits with family members and others staring blankly at the ceiling with nothing else to do. 

Finally, he spots a doctor in a white coat, clipboard in hand, walking briskly toward him. Jeonghan rushes to intercept him. "Excuse me! Can you help me? I need to know what happened to me," he pleads, his voice tinged with urgency. But just like the nurses, the doctor brushes past him as if he were invisible.  

Feeling confused and overwhelmed, Jeonghan sinks into a chair meant for waiting families. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, mumbling to himself.  

Eventually he lifts his head, glancing around the waiting area. The chairs are filled with families, most of their faces etched with worry or relief, some with boredom, but none of them seem to notice him. The weight of everything that’s happening starts to get to him, and he fights back the urge to scream and demand for someone to see him. 

Taking a deep breath, he stands up, a spark of determination igniting within him. Just as he prepares to approach the doctor at the nurse's station, the elevator doors across from him slide open. His heart races as he sees a figure step out, exuding a warmth and confidence that draws him in. Her dark hair is slightly tousled, as if she just rolled out of bed, and her outfit—a black faux leather jacket, a white shirt, ripped jeans, and white sneakers—makes him think she’s not part of the hospital staff. 

Before he can make another move, she looks up, their eyes connecting, and for the first time since waking up, he feels truly seen and is reminded of what the odd man from earlier said. 

“The only person who will be able to see you will know my name.” 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

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[quietwingsinthesky]

Drabble 79/366 - Doctor Who

Darillium is dark, and it’ll stay that way for years and years like a held breath. That doesn’t stop him from being afraid to wake up with the sun intruding through the closed blinds.

The light would melt across River’s sleeping face and turn her into gold—circuit boards and cold metal.

But not without knowing how much she is loved, and by no one more than him. He’ll make sure she knows.

That’s their past and future. Now, she breathes. She scrunches her nose in her sleep.

He won’t close his eyes until he believes he couldn’t forget her.

[ellalalala]

By your name (all the stars, rivers, cities)

Akademiya! Zandik is probably my favorite version of Dottore but also one that I really struggle to write. If he's ooc here, close your eyes <3 Not proofread lol out of sight out of mind Fluff, mutual pining inspired by one of my favorite songs - Твоим именем by Svidaniye Also on AO3

You prayed he didn't notice the trembling of your hands.

Zandik hadn't spoken a word to you since he opened his leather-bound journal, opting instead to sketch the ruin golem that was nestled between the tall hills of Ardravi Valley. You'd robbed yourself of the privilege of observing him in his element; the close proximity between the two of you made you nervous. It felt dangerous to observe your surroundings, to move your limbs, and so you sat frozen beside him, afraid that Zandik would become suspicious of you.

The reason for your shyness was clear as day: Zandik had never allowed you to come this close before, always rejecting your goodwill with the apprehension of someone who had only ever known cruelty. But now, the blanket you sat on was barely big enough to fit both of you, and Zandik didn't seem to mind; not the way your thighs touched, nor the way your shoulders bumped. You imagined that his soft curls would brush against your cheek if he were to turn his head to the side - and that thought only served to fluster you even more.

How is he so calm, you wondered, when we've never been this close before?

You were frustrated with yourself. So much time had been spent by his side - studying, drinking coffee, wandering the lush expanses of the rainforest - yet you still felt deeply, indescribably nervous. Anxiety sank into your bones and jumbled your mind; you knew why, had known for weeks, but it was impossible to accept. How could you?

Your focus shifted to the Sumeru rose in your hand. Zandik picked it for you on your way to your favorite picnic spot - the hill that overlooked Vimara village - and said the simple words, "for your book". You accepted the flower with a polite "thank you", heart fluttering in your chest when he gave you a faint smile - the sight forever etched in your mind.

It was meant to be pressed between the pages of your favorite book. You didn't have the heart to do it, though; damaging a rose given to you by Zandik felt wrong. Even if his actions carried no underlying implications, it didn't matter. You wanted to keep it. Once you returned to your dorm, you would place this delicate rose in a small vase and ensure it survived a few more days.

You twirled it between your fingers. A little more time and this embarrassment would end. Zandik would forget you behaved this way, engrossed in his research, and you would be the sole person to carry the burden of remembering every second you spent fiddling with the hem of your shirt, too shy to move from the spot beside your friend.

Friend. The word tasted sour in your mouth.

"You're eerily quiet today," said Zandik, "what's the matter?"

This time, you had no choice but to look at him. Zandik had long finished drawing. The journal lay on his lap, open to reveal a surprisingly detailed illustration of the ruin golem across the river. Your breath nearly hitched when your eyes met Zandik's.

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

You felt small under his gaze; he observed you as if you were something interesting - one of those ruin mechanisms that he so adored. You couldn't take it.

You pointed at his journal, "the drawing turned out so well."

"It's a simple sketch, really. But that ruin golem lying ahead... it is the pinnacle of human wisdom. Isn't it awe-inspiring?"

His ruby eyes glimmered with excitement; the sort that only awakened when Zandik spoke about his interests. It warmed your heart - it always did - but this time, the close proximity between your faces was enough to make you blush.

You smiled, "yes, it is."

"I am set to join an investigation team as a trainee dastur soon," Zandik said, "we will conduct field research near that golem. If I'm lucky, we'll even study its interior..."

He gazed ahead, no doubt imagining the discoveries he would make. This was what he lived for - refining his understanding of the world around him, its inner workings. You would never be...

Stupid, stupid thoughts. Weren't you just his friend?

"You'll have to tell me all about it," you said. That was appropriate. That wouldn't raise any questions. Zandik loved to talk about his research and he loved to talk about it with someone who cared. You just so happened to care more than anyone.

Zandik looked at you with newfound delight. It all came back to you then: the proximity between the two of you, the rose in your hand, his smile. How were you supposed to understand any of this? When his arm brushed against yours, his thigh pressed against your own and his lips were only inches away from yours - how would a stranger look at this?

Doesn't matter, you thought, because it means nothing. He's just my friend.

"A pity you can't join."

Not the words you expected to hear from Zandik, of all people. Your brain must have short-circuited, for you couldn't form a single coherent thought as you watched him casually put his journal away like he hadn't just...

Your cheeks tinted red. A cruel voice in your head told you that Zandik would definitely miss you, think of you whenever you weren't by his side.

"Well, a Rtawahist student has no use in field research..." you mumbled, making Zandik huff in amusement.

"It has nothing to do with your darshan."

A thousand different thoughts swarmed in your head. "Then what?"

He didn't give his answer just yet. Zandik chose to inspect you once more as if to fluster you - and though it worked exceedingly well, you couldn't bring yourself to look away, captivated by his boyish charm.

Zandik looked so utterly serene; olive skin bathed in the soft light of the evening sun, soft cyan hair tousled by the warm breeze. The corners of his thin lips were tilted upwards in a roguish smirk, and your poor, frail heart was threatened to give out. It still made no sense to you: how anyone could look at Zandik and see a monster.

He exhaled softly, "your behavior these past few weeks was puzzling. My initial assumption was that you had grown to fear me, just like the others..." Zandik reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your jawline, "but the answer has become a bit clearer now."

Your breath hitched. He knew. He knew the truth, had guessed it long ago, and you - ever the fool - were oblivious all along.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, ashamed beyond compare; for even with the possibility of your feelings being unrequited, you reveled in the way his fingertips warmed your skin.

"Sorry? I never said you had to be sorry."

Zandik sat impossibly close. He cupped your cheek and watched you melt into his touch.

"But it's a bother, isn't it?" You asked, to which Zandik blinked owlishly before chuckling - a saccharine melody that you wanted to keep in your memory forever.

He gazed at you fondly, in a way he never had before, "would I keep spending my time with you if I thought you were a bother?"

"I guess not," you breathed, painfully aware of the tiny distance between the two of you. It felt unreal; you doubted you fully comprehended his words, lost in Zandik's touch as you were.

You could kiss him. The idea baffled you, making the words ring in your head, over and over, I can kiss him, I can kiss him, I can kiss him.

By the looks of it, Zandik had similar thoughts but enough self-control to hold back. You, on the other hand, lacked the courage to go through with your idea, and so you sat basking in his tender touches like you would never feel them again.

You couldn't ask for anything more, anyway.

[propertyofwhitney67]

Are you mad? No, I'm scared shitless.

M!Whitney x AFAB!Reader

Words: 896

TW: Pregnancy

Note: I don't know how to feel about this one...

I stared down at the test and two red lines stared back at me. I’m pregnant and it’s Whitney’s.

The bathroom door opening and chatting broke me from my trance. I quickly tossed the test in the trash and left the stall. I shook as I washed my hands, my mind was running wild. What am I going to do? How is he going to react? 

I walked into math class and quietly took my seat. I dropped my head to my desk and desperately tried to calm myself down. It felt like ages before the bell rang and Whitney walked into class, taking his seat beside me.

I anxiously bounced my leg and tried to focus on River speaking, but it was no use. I couldn’t focus on anything besides my rapidly beating heart. Whitney seemed to notice my anxiety and gave me his hand to play with. It helped a little. Thankfully class went by quickly, River ignored me and Whitney for the most part.

When the bell rang I quickly got out of my seat, almost forgetting my bag and leaving the classroom. I didn’t bother going to English class, I didn’t want to have to deal with Kylar. I hid away in the bathroom and didn’t come out till school was over.

I went to the locker room and changed into my normal clothes then went searching for Whitney. I have to tell him, he deserves that much. I found him outside the school talking with his friends. I made my way over and tugged at his arm, “Whitney…”

He looked down at me irritated, “What do you want, slut?” 

I looked at him pleadingly, “Can we talk, over here.” I gestured to an area away from everyone else.

“What? You’ve never been shy about fucking me in public before.” He joked and pulled his arm away.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself and not break down then and there. “Please, Whitney. It’s important.”

He rolled his eyes but agreed, walking away with me. “What is it?”

“I’m pregnant.” I answered shakily, trying to hold back tears. ”And before you ask, it’s yours.” I kept my head down, afraid to see his reaction.

He was quiet, unusually quiet, and it scared me. I wrapped my arms around myself as I let the tears finally fall. “How long?”

My head shot up in confusion, “What?”

“I said how long? How long have you known?” He repeated himself forcefully as if he was holding back his emotions.

I shook my head in confusion, “This morning, I took a test in the bathroom.”

He took a deep breath and dug the palms of his hands into his eyes, “Fuck…” He went quiet again, thinking hard about something. I fidgeted where I stood, waiting for him to say something, to get mad and yell, tell me to fuck off, anything. Anything would be better than the silence. 

After what felt like forever but was only a few minutes he uncovered his face and took me by the arm, dragging me with him. “Wha-”

“Shut up.” There was no arguing with him as he dragged me to his house and into his room.

I dropped my bag on the floor and sat on his bed. He began to pace the floor of his room. After a few minutes I asked him, “Are you mad?”

This seemed to break him out of his thoughts as he stopped pacing, “What?” He took a seat beside me, “No, I’m not mad…I’m scared shitless.” I snorted a laugh at his confession. I was scared too but I found it funny how he could still act like himself despite the situation.

“What are we gonna do?” I asked, suddenly feeling tired. My emotions drained all my energy.

He kissed the top of my head, “The best we can.” I kicked off my shoes, crawling up his bed and laying down where Whitney quickly joined me, resting his head on the pillow next to me.

I started playing with his hair, “How are we gonna get out of here…?”

“I have a plan.”

I looked down at him and asked in a joking manner, “You, a plan?” This was not a time to be joking but I found it funny that he, of all people, had a plan.

Whitney sighed, “Yes, I do. I know it’s hard for a slut like you to listen, so pay attention. Do you remember how you helped me study for those tests?” I nodded, “They were for college and I got accepted…I didn’t want to tell you unless I got in, and well I did.”

“How?” I asked baffled that he, Whitney the school bully, was accepted into college.

He looked up at me with a smirk, “What? Am I not smart enough for college?”

I rolled my eyes, “No…I’m just surprised. What does that have to do with this though?”

He rubbed my stomach, “I’m taking you with me, I think it’s the best chance to get us out of here.” He’s right, it is. It might be the only way for us to get out of here.

“Promise you won’t just leave me behind?” I asked, scared he’d leave me here alone and pregnant.

He took my hand and kissed it, “I promise slut, I’m not leaving you or our baby behind.”

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘒𝘰-𝘍𝘪

[calisources]

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 (𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒) 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒. all quotes and sentences were taken from the movie troy (2004). change locations, names and pronouns as you see fit. mentions of war and politics are included in this post.

 I'll tell you a secret. Something they don't teach you in your temple. The Gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because any moment might be our last. 

Everything is more beautiful because we're doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now.

If they ever tell my story let them say that I walked with giants.

Men rise and fall like the winter wheat, but these names will never die. 

Let them say I lived in the time of Hector, tamer of horses. Let them say I lived in the time of Achilles.

You gave me peace in a lifetime of war.

You're still my enemy in the morning.

You're still my enemy tonight. But even enemies can show respect.

I have endured what no one on earth has endured before. I kissed the hands of the man who killed my son.

I know my country better than the Greeks, I think.

 You are a brave man. I could have your head on a spit in the blink of an eye.

 Do you really think death frightens me now? I watched my eldest son die, watched you drag his body behind your chariot.

Give him back to me. He deserves a proper burial, you know that. Give him to me.

How many cousins have you killed? How many sons and fathers and brothers and husbands? How many, brave Achilles?

I knew your father, he died before his time. But he was lucky not to live long enough to see his son fall.

War is young men dying and old men talking. You know this. Ignore the politics.

My brothers of the sword! I would rather fight beside you than any army of thousands! Let no man forget how menacing we are.

Do you know what's waiting beyond that beach? Immortality! Take it! It's yours!

 I chose nothing. I was born and this is what I am.

Imagine a king who fights his own battles. Wouldn't that be a sight?

Of all the warlords loved by the gods, I hate him the most.

Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone, and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?

Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity.

You say you're willing to die for love but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!

Go home, prince. Drink some wine, make love to your wife. Tomorrow, we'll have our war.

Perhaps your brother can comfort them. I hear he's good at charming other men's wives.

You speak of war as if it's a game.

But how many wives wait at Troy's gates for husbands they'll never see again?

If you go to Troy, glory will be yours. 

And the world will remember your name. But if you go to Troy, you will never come back... for your glory walks hand-in-hand with your doom. And I shall never see you again.

 They say your mother was an immortal godess. They say you can't be killed.

You have your swords. I have my tricks. We play with the toys the gods give us.

All my life I've lived by a code and the code is simple: honor the gods, love your woman and defend your country.

Troy is mother to us all. Fight for her!

There are no pacts between lions and men.

Aren't you afraid?

 Everyone dies, whether today or fifty years from now.

If I don't, you'll kill more men.

At night I see their faces. All the men I've killed. They're standing there on the far bank of the river Styx. They're waiting for me. They say, 'Welcome, brother'.

Last time you spoke to me like this, you were 10 years old and you'd just stolen Father's horse. What have you done now?

Do you love me, brother? Will you protect me from any enemy?

Well, then your men did. The sun god will have his vengeance.

His priests are dead, and his acolyte's a captive. i think your god is afraid of me.

Afraid? Apollo is master of the sun, he fears nothing.

I know more about the gods than your priests. I've seen them.

You're royalty, aren't you? Spent years talking down to men.

You must be royalty. What's your name? Even the servants of Apollo have names.

 What do you want here in Troy? You didn't come for the Spartan queen.

Why kill you now, Prince of Troy, with no-one here to see you fall?

You should not have come here tonight.

That's what you said last night?

Last night was a mistake.

I have made many mistakes this week.

Of all the kings of Greece, I respect you most. But in this war you're a servant. And I refuse to be a servant any longer.

Sometimes you need to serve in order to lead. I hope you understand that one day.

Prince Hector, is he as good a warrior as they say?

You come here uninvited. Go back to your ships and go home.

The sun was shining when your wife left you.

She's up there, watching, isn't she? Good. I want her to watch you die.

And I've seen the limits of your mercy and I tell you now, no son of Troy will ever submit to a foreign ruler.

Trojan soldiers died protecting you. Perhaps they deserve more than your pity.

Pearls from the sea of Propontus.

Am I still your captive?

I have heard rumors of your beauty. And for once, the gossip is right.

Soldiers of Troy! You men are warriors! To lead you has been my honor!

Hector fights for his country! Achilles fights only for himself!

You were brave to fight them. You have courage.

To fight back when I'm attacked? A dog has that kind of courage.

It's no insult to say a dead man is dead.

I can't ask anyone to fight for me. I'm no longer queen of Sparta.

You're a princess of Troy now. And my brother needs you tonight.

Menelaus was a brave man. He fought for honor. And every day I was with him, I wanted to walk into the sea and drown.

I almost lost this war because of your little romance.

I want to see him grow tall. I want to see all the girls chasing after him.

Well, of course you do, she's a beautiful woman.

Then I'll make it easy for him to find me. I'll walk right up to him and tell him you're mine.

May the gods keep the wolves in the fields and the women in our beds.

[rainbowmothed]

a collection of angsty quotes that reminded me of vaggie. inspired by @ lookinginsidemymind on tiktok.

“i think i was born to sting,”

but i don't mean to.”

“im not a violent dog. i dont know why i bite”

“how the absence of someone can feel like the absence of myself.”

“wish you were here. you could tell me what to do.”

“i am angry, i am unlovable. i am mostly afraid those things are true.”

“please stop yelling at me please scratch my back please stick up for me in a conversation i am listening to from the top of the stairs. you are my girlfriend, act like it”

“i wear the army's anger like a hand-me-down. the hotel says it does not look good on me”

“i do not know how to love something without sinking my teeth into it”

“i am the girl screaming. i am also the girl begging to not be screamed at.”

“what if i become angry like my past self. what if i already have?”

“i would do anything to become someone worth keeping around”

“why are you running away?”

“i must search every corner of the world to search for the girl i once was. to get rid of her, once and for all”

“i am so adam's top girl it hurts. can you tell?”

“i love you.”

“sometimes, i think love and violence are the same”

“if my past was a tooth, id tie a string around it and slam the door on those memories.”

“but it is not. i cannot.”

“i am flying way too close to the sun and id like to say the heat burning my skin makes me feel alive but i really just want the blisters to prove ive been hurt”

“i am messy. everything i let go of has claw marks. i am stubborn. i have never met a hill i wouldn't die on”

“i've been holding onto this grief so long it feels as familiar as the turns into my neighborhood when i've fallen asleep in the car.”

“i want to wake up now. i want to let it go”

“how could i forget? does the tree forget the axe?”

“i stuffed myself into this cocoon. now i beg for transformation”

“thank you for putting flowers in my messy room im sorry for making you mad at me i didn't mean to but unfortunately there's something wrong with me”

“im trying my best im trying my best that's all i can do”

“sometimes this girl's best is judging everyone else to distract herself from the fact that she hates herself more than she could ever hate anything else”

“i love like a dog. not in the cute, fluffy way; in the discarded, disgusting mutt way. i whine for any scraps of affection i am given”

“sometimes, you are so accustomed to hate you cannot fathom love. you reject it.”

“i don't think my creator knows my favorite color. or my birthday.”

“i wish i could look at myself in the mirror without crying”

“i love you with what in me is unfinished; i love you with what in me is still changing”

“someday i will sail away from the shame i carry. for now, i am merely a passenger”

“you're holding onto something that doesn't exist anymore”

“unclench your fists.”

“this grief isnt tangible but oh god how i can feel it”

“this is an automated message, please don't reply. we are calling in regard to your father”

“we mean your creator. we mean the man that raised you. we mean the man that said he raised you.”

“sorry, we dont know what we mean, because you don't know what we mean”

“we apologize for any miswording. we apologize the way they will never apologize. when will you accept that?”

“sometimes i dont want to get better just to show you how bad it was”

“i am afraid that if i open myself i will not be able to stop pouring. why do i fear becoming a river? what mountain gave me such shame?”

“you keep asking if i would die for you. i keep asking why you want me dead”

“good enough to grab. they always put me back, though. 🐟”

“im sorry for saying sorry”

[dira333]

Love and friendship know no distance - Shino x Reader x Hinata (platonic)

Have been carrying this idea with me for a while. There's a whole lotta lore behind this, but I think I managed to not overwhelm the story. Plays out after the War.

tagging: @missalienqueen @snuggleboots @brusselsproutofdoom, @shadowwolf202101blog @neonrogueraven @respitable @remusbestboy

The truth is, you hadn’t meant to make Konoha an ally. Not really. 

Konoha is, after all, the village that brought up Orochimaru. Did nothing but turn their heads to his experiments, pretending he wasn’t slowly losing his mind and his morals.

Konoha’s failure brought destruction over your whole country yet they like to blame you for it, not the man who caused it all.

Well… they don’t exactly blame you. 

But if your father’s blood runs through your veins, there’s nothing you can do about the blame attached to it.

“I am the Daimyō of the Land of Sound,” you declare at the gate, its size another slap in the face. Oh, how mighty you are, Land of Fire. But you still need a gate to keep us out, still use a gate to keep your people in. 

And you suppose their doubts are not unfounded. You’re not wearing any fancy clothes, come bearing no treasures, unguarded to the untrained eye. 

But you won’t spare any fancy things on a country like this.

-

“We were not notified of your father’s death,” the Hokage explains, grey-haired and lazy-eyed. Kakashi of the Sharingan.

You wonder if he’s seen through you already; if the Sharingan is truly as mighty as they all say. Orochimaru, after all, died for it.

“So far only the Daimyō of the Land of Rivers has arrived. You are pretty early. I’d like to assist you in your protection, offer you one or two Shinobi.”

You want to deny it, before thinking better of it. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

“One would be enough.”

“Alright. Shikamaru, who do we have? And don’t forget, only the best of the best for a Daimyō.”

“Team 8 just came back in. Genma’s-”

“Team 8 would be perfect,” Lord Sixth turns back to you, “I assume you want to pick them yourself?”

“Affirmative.”

-

Shikamaru, just as lazy-eyed as the Hokage he’s supposed to be advising, has gathered a few more Shinobi it seems. Or maybe this is a test.

It’s not hard to figure out who belongs together, their familiarity hard to ignore.

There’s a blond girl who’s not afraid to slap the hands of a boy reaching for a snack. He looks sweet, circles on his cheeks indicating that he belongs to the Akimichi Clan. The pink-haired girl and the blond guy are standing too close for it to be accidental and though you can practically feel the Chakra coming off him in waves it’s clear that he cannot keep quiet for even a second.

A white dog takes up the space two people could occupy. Its eyes stare right back into yours and as if trying to give you a hint, it winks at you. Its owner is just as chatty as the blond guy, but the other two people belonging to his team - the connection is undeniable - are calmer, used to staying in the back.

Dark glasses reflect your own face. It’s hard to tell what this guy’s thinking, but you don’t dare to assume he’s underestimating you. If anything, he might be the first to have you figured out.

Behind him, half-hidden, lavender eyes peer back at you, sadness pooling in their milkiness. She reminds you of your mother though looking nothing like her and the pang of loneliness is strong enough to make you move.

“Yes?” Shikamaru turns. 

“The Hyuuga,” you call out, bones still shaking with emotion. Are they all like that? Or is it just her?

-

Hinata is a quiet presence at your side. 

She doesn’t push herself onto you, though you cannot forget that she’s there and her silence only makes you crave noise even more.

“What does your name mean?” You ask when she leads you down the roads to the place you’re supposed to stay.

“A place in the sun, My Lady.”

“Were you born in the summer?”

“December 27th, My Lady.”

Winter, you have to close your eyes at the thought, a shiver running through you, how fitting.

“Do you like the snow?” The question has slipped out of your mouth before you can stop it, a sensation scary and unfamiliar.

Her eyes light up for a second, the ghost of a smile passing over her face. 

“I love it.”

Loneliness claws at your heart so unexpectedly that you stumble. She’s at your side in a second and you barely manage to fight her off before she touches you.

She might have been warm to the touch. You wouldn’t have been able to take that.

-

You realize your error late at night.

To have only one Guard means that she cannot go home, get rest, or take a break.

Is it selfish though, that you want her to yourself a little while longer?

You’ve managed to get her to drop the formal title over Dinner and though you’re sticking to steamed rice and green tea she doesn’t mind conversing over the food that is offered.

“We are famous for our roasted chestnuts,” she explains. “At least that’s what Temari says.”

“Temari?” You take a sip of the tea, heart thundering at the possibility that it could be poisoned. Though Hinata’s shared quite a few cups with you and she’s fine.

“Shikamaru’s fiancée, she’s from Sunagakure.”

It’s only in the morning that you regret your decision.

Hinata’s passed out by the kitchen table, hair fanned out over the dark wood, her pale skin a stark contrast.

You cannot wake her without making known that she slacked on the job.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Konoha might not be your enemy, but it’s not your friend, not supposed to be for a long while.

After all that has passed, after all that you’ve been through, you cannot lose your mind to the first girl with sad eyes. 

But, your mind whispers back, defiant, I’ve always wanted a friend.

-

“If you feel bad for falling asleep,” you threaten her the moment she blinks herself awake, “I will throw you out.”

“I-” she stutters, red flushing her cheeks, “I…”

“I’d rather have your opinion on who else to appoint,” you tell her matter-of-factly, “than an apology. I don’t like people who talk all the time and don’t listen to the important stuff. Who do you want as your companion on this job?”

Her eyes flitter around, a milky-white that makes your heart ache for your mother, the power of her hands, the first snow of the year.

“Shino… I pick Shino.”

“Shino it will be.”

-x-

“My Lady,” Shino puts a cup of tea in front of you and steps back.

Across from you, the Daimyō of the Land of Fire is stuffing his face with spicy noodles. And he’s not the only one scarfing down the impressive feast Konoha has prepared for them.

You, however, are only served steamed white rice and green tea, both prepared by Hinata and served by Shino because these are the only ones you can - barely - trust.

“Sad to hear of your father’s passing,” the Daimyō of the Land of Iron declares, wiping his mouth. 

“I’m not.” 

Silence falls over the room. The Daimyō of the Land of Lightning is a little slow on the uptake, the noise of his chewing obnoxiously loud.

“How… how did he die, anyway?” Someone asks. You direct your eyes at them, watch them shrink under your gaze. It’s the Daimyō of the Land of Water.

“He was sentenced to death for his crimes.”

“Crimes?”

“What else would you call what he did?” Your brows lift in question. They swallow nervously, so you allow yourself to elaborate.

“Sold his land and his people to an egoistic maniac. Did nothing to stop the madness when it started, instead profited off it. Or do you condone human experiments?”

“No, of course not, no.”

“Who…” The Daimyō of the Land of Fire clears his throat awkwardly, “Who’s the Otokage now? If Orochimaru is gone. And he’s gone, I understand?”

“Oh, yes, he is gone. As the position of Otokage and Daimyō cannot be held by the same person, my Sensei, Hirota Hitoshi.”

“Never heard of him,” someone mutters in the back and though you don’t smile, you can’t help but think that that’s how it’s supposed to be.

“So, the Land of Sound is struggling, right?” The Daimyō of the Land of Fire asks directly. “What gives you the idea?”

“You’re here.”

“Touché.” You smile, though it’s more a blaring of your teeth, “We are but a small country, looking for means to invent us new. Maybe we’ll go back to what we used to be before. The Land of Rice Fields had a nice ring to it.”

“Hmm… How many Shinobi do you have?”

“Oh, not many.”

“You might think that,” the Daimyō of the Land of Fire is not as stupid as he looks, “But I’d like a concrete number.”

You hesitate only for a second before you name it, knowing that it will change the trajectory of all oncoming conversations.

Their gasps of surprise don’t feel as satisfying as you had thought.

“We-”

“We’d like to form an Alliance,” the Daimyō of the Land of Earth declares before anyone else can get more than a word in.

You rise from your pillow.

“I’ll let you think about it,” you exclaim without a smile, “I need to rest now. Shino?”

His arm links with his, an unnecessary show of assistance. It’s the first time he’s touched you too, and quite bold for the man you’ve gotten to know over the last days.

But maybe he sensed something you’d blocked out, because your legs don’t want to work like they used to, your steps growing slower and slower as soon as the door closes behind you.

“Have I been poisoned?” You ask, the question slipping from your mouth without your intention, yet again.

“Not to my knowledge. I’d say you’re malnourished. You’ve eaten nothing but steamed rice for the last days, correct?”

“I’ve done it before,” you bite through your teeth, pushing yourself up. His arm stays linked with yours.

“I can take you to your place without anyone seeing,” Shino offers and though you can only see yourself reflected in his glaces, you accept. Hinata proposed him as your Guard, after all.

-

Hinata feeds you bone broth first, then Ramen, going so far as to gently pressure you into swallowing one spoonful after the other.

It doesn’t take long to find the source of your sudden weakness, an old injury opening. 

Shino’s the one who calls in a medic, the same pink-haired girl you’ve seen on your first day. She’s remarkably quiet, checking you over with the eyes of someone who knows what they’re doing.

“If you talk about this,” you tell her with an air of someone who never gets denied a thing, “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

She huffs. “Don’t threaten me, I’m saving your life.”

“I’m saving my own life.”

Her eyes are green, spring-like in the worst way. 

After all, spring is the death of winter, the end of all things you hold dear.

“This is Konoha-” she starts, only to be interrupted. Shino’s hand lands heavy on her shoulder, Hinata’s warm fingers curl around yours.

“Can we just focus on making her well for now?” She asks, her voice managing to be warm and cold at the same time, like sun on a winters day.

-

“Can you tell me about your education?” You ask when Sakura’s gone and you’ve grown tired of lying on your back. “Do you have a school or do you learn from your families?”

“Both,” Hinata explains, lowering a warm, moist towel on your forehead. It smells like lavender. “What, uh… do you want to know?”

“You’re going to be late,” Shino cuts in from the kitchen, a shadow in a shadow. “Naruto’s picking you up in half an hour.”

She doesn’t say it but you can see that she’s torn. Torn between staying and leaving, you think.

“Naruto?” You ask, thinking of the blond guy who couldn’t stop talking. “Your friend?”

“Boyfriend,” she explains, cheeks red, “But I can call of the date if you need me.”

“I won’t die tonight,” you exclaim, thinking it funny until she pales. “I swear, I’m fine. Besides, Shino’s here to watch me. Or do you have a date as well?”

He doesn’t answer and somehow that’s answer enough.

When the door closes behind her the room feels suddenly too small for the two of you.

“Were you trained by your family, Shino?” You ask, hoping that a different topic will get rid of whatever this is.

“Yes. Most families have special Jutsu that they train their children in. Isn’t it the same in the Land of Sound?”

“It is, but not everyone has a family to train with.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?” The question comes out harsher than intended. He doesn’t back down.

“I lost my brother in the war. My mother died when I was born.” His tone doesn’t ask for sympathy yet you cannot help but extend it to him. Your mother is the reason you survived.

“What’s your family's special Jutsu? You do have one, don’t you?”

Instead of an answer, he raises his arm. Dark dots appear on the pale skin. Only when they take flight do you realize that they’re insects.

One, two, three land on top of the blanket covering you. 

You watch them move for a minute before you lift your own arm as well. Ice starts to cover it like a second skin, breaking off in flakes at first before you get the shapes right.

One, two, three perfectly formed ice bugs fly over to him, landing on his outstretched arm.

Your arm drops, exhausted from the task, the bugs vanish.

“Sleep,” he says, and to your embarrassment, you do so almost instantly.

-x-

You do not tell her - or anyone for that matter - but Hinata is the reason you agree to peace talks with the Daimyō of the Land of Fire. 

It’s hard to rule a country of thousands, even more so when your heart belongs to only a few. 

Would you throw it all way if it meant foregoing to fight her? 

Would she even have to fight? 

There’s too much to think about there.

But you suspect you’re not the only one who thinks like you.

Not when it becomes clear that the friendship between Naruto and the Kazekage is the main reason for the alliance between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind.

I wish to stay, you write your Sensei, your words encoded, I have never felt like this before.

Love, and friendship do not care about distance, he writes back and you wonder how he already knows, long before you’ve admitted it to yourself.

“I will have to return soon,” you tell Shino after meeting with a few of the Kage’s, knowing the others are on their way to meet you.

Now that the Land of Sound is great again, a threat to the new Peace, everyone wants to settle their debts with you.

You’ve heard the rumors, mainly because Naruto cannot keep his mouth shut, about you. How you’re strong enough to be the Otokage but refused the Position - which is true - or how you only speak when asked - a blatant lie.

He nods, hands hidden in his sleeves where you cannot grasp them.

You’re out in public, the perfect picture of obedience, him traveling two feet behind you.

Hinata’s out with Naruto and you’re supposed to meet her somewhere, trusting Shino that he will lead you however he decides to do it.

“I’d like for you to accompany me.”

You can feel his eyes on you, curious this time. Sometimes they’re worried, sometimes they’re stern - when you refuse another helping of food or fight against Sakura’s advice - and sometimes, though still rarely, they’re warm, like sunlight falling on snow.

-

“I want to ask,” Naruto’s rubbing his nose, a clear indicator that he’s anxious, “If you’d do me a favor.”

“I won’t if you don’t cut to the chase.”

“Oh, ha, well…” he clears his throat, “I want to propose to Hinata. Ask her to marry me. And well… I want it to be special. Like nothing she’s seen before.”

“If you need money…”

“NO!” He pulls back as Shino steps forward, always on Guard. “No, no, not like that. It’s the beginning of early summer, but you probably know that Hinata loves Winter. I know you use Ice in your Jutsu, like Haku, I just… I thought maybe you could make it snow.”

“Ah,” you nod, understanding. “Winter in June, I get it. Yes, that can be arranged.”

“It can?”

“Of course, who do you think me for? But you’ve asked her father, right?”

“Of course!” He blushes right after. “He wasn’t too happy, but I suppose he never is.”

-

Is it surprising that Shino’s your shadow as you climb the Hokage Rock, the sight before you the village you used to despise? Not really.

His presence is as dear to you as Hinata’s, warm and reassuring when warmth used to be your enemy.

“I decided,” he tells you as you watch the sun rise, “I will come with you. Though my father insists to have me back after three months at the least.”

You grasp for his hand and it’s not hidden, warm skin against your cold.

Today might mark the happiest day - yet - for Hinata, but you suppose you can share that sentiment. You’re friends, after all.

-x-

Shino’s two feet behind you, shadow looming over you as you step into the gorge that marks the entry to Otogakure.

The sound of your footsteps, your breathing, the beating of your hearts reverberates around you until there is no more place for thought inside your bodies, until you only exist to hear.

You’ve missed it and loath it at the same time, the absence of Silence you’ve become used to.

Shino pulls you back, presses his chest against your back. You suppose he must struggle with it, the omnipresence of Sound. Everyone does when they come here. You either learn to live with it or you lose your mind.

You know that speech would only increase the problem, so you gesture to make yourself known. Lastly, you lean in, press your lips against the shell of his ears. 

It’s nothing but a short lived remedy, more of a bold statement than a means to help. 

But he is here with you, a living, breathing statement that someone chose you too.

-

You don’t want to say it, barely dare to think it, but he fits in.

Otonin are quiet, most of the time, every sound already increased tenfold by nature. They choose their words wisely, step quietly, breathe almost soundlessly. 

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t help but be attracted to him.

Or maybe it’s the fire in his veins, the warmth he exudes when he pulls you in at night.

He’s got a separate room though you don’t know when he used it last.

.

But rumors travel even when no words are exchanged.

Some servants already call him the Lord and more than once you’ve witnessed Shinobi bow to him in respect as well.

It’s still hard to believe that their obedience is willing, that they’re not following you out of fear as they did with your father. 

It gives you hope for the future.

Maybe, when the snow melts, there’s more to life than death.

-

“I need to leave,” Shino announces one morning over breakfast, a scroll next to his plate.

“When?” You ask, the tea suddenly leaving a shallow taste in your mouth, “For how long?”

“As soon as possible,” he offers you the scroll, “My father is in urgent need of my assistance. I cannot say how long it will take me.”

“Of course,” you manage to say, your mind swirling, a shiver settling in your bones. Have the rooms turned cold all of a sudden or is that something else, growing inside you?

“I will return,” he promises, conviction clear in his voice.

“Of course,” you reply almost mechanically, “And there’s Hinata’s wedding too.”

.

He’s gone within the same day, taking spring with him and summer too.

And it’s only now that he’s missing that you feel both their absences at once.

You wonder how Hinata’s feeling, if she even remembers you.

All her letters suddenly feel like they’re taunting you, reminding you of how much space there is between the two of you.

-

“It’s not unusual for the Daimyō to live outside of their hidden village,” Hitoshi offers when he visits, used to giving you advice from the day you could formulate a question. Maybe he did it even before that.

“In the same country, Sensei,” you remind him, still unable to call him Otokage as you should. Without him, you’d have no one here to trust even though he tries to make you believe something different.

“I heard the Kazekage is building a train from their Hidden Village to Village Hidden in the Leaves. Cutting the traveling time short.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No, dear, but it’s a start.” And he ushers you to your desk, all things already prepared.

If not for him, you might have lost your mind. Maybe you did. Maybe these projects are just signs of you losing what you never had.

Maybe you’re just a lovesick fool, all hope already lost.

.

I am thinking of you, always.

His letters are consistent, strong in their conviction, though not nearly as soothing to your heart as his presence would be.

When did you turn weak like this, brought to your knees by the absence of another?

You don’t doubt the servants are already talking about it.

How the Lady’s face has lost her glow in the absence of her lover.

You want to snarl at them but don’t. You’re not your father.

-

“I am the Daimyō of the Land of Sound,” you declare at the gate, though unnecessary. Your clothes scream of your wealth.

You will not dare to wear anything but the best to Hinata’s wedding.

“Welcome back,” the Guards greet you, their faces friendly. 

The Gate no longer feels like it’s mocking you. Today it’s calling you home.

.

Is there a greater joy than to hug Hinata? Wrap your arms around her after months of missing her dearly, feel her heart beat strong, her breath com even?

“It’s so good to have you back.”

And for a few days, it’s like it used to be. 

Walks in the park, her laughter in your kitchen as she insists on making you bone broth - “You’re not eating enough, I just know it.”

But life changes, all the time. 

Shino sits next to you as her father walks her through the crowd, his hand warm in yours despite all the people around you. 

If you don’t cry that’s only because the tears freeze to snowflakes in your lashes, little crystals reflecting the ice until Shino wipes them away with a careful fingertip.

He doesn’t talk much, not that he needs to. It’s enough to have him there.

-

“A speech,” the people call out.

Hiashi Hyuuga raises a glass. The Hokage. The Kazekage.

Finally, you raise your glass and the crowd falls silent.

“The only blessing I have for you is that you might stay the way you are. Courageous, believing in others…” You hesitate for a moment, feel a warm hand in the hollow of your knee, the only place where no one can see Shino’s innocent, comforting touch, the reminder that he’s here, too. “A place in the sun.”

You raise your glass a little higher, a sign for the others to drink on the lucky couple.

Snowflakes flutter down like the petals of Cherry Blossoms and with the burning red and gold of the autumnal forests behind you, it looks almost like the snow is falling on fire.

But it doesn’t melt.

And if that doesn’t give you hope, you don’t know what will.

.

One week later, just shy of your planned departure, Shino walks you through the forest behind his home, where sound is something so unfamiliar you can feel the Silence settle in your bones.

“I can never fully move to Otogakure,” he explains quietly, “Why? I am next in Line as the Head of the Aburame. I have to be home frequently.”

“I can never fully move to Konoha,” you offer just as softly, heartbreaking at the truth, “My country needs me, if not all the time then at least constantly.”

His hand is warm around yours, bugs tickling as they move from his skin to yours, crawling up and down until they form a slim, black, living ring around your finger.

“Before Konoha, the Aburame used to be nomads, traveling with the seasons, their life as hosts the most important thing. If you’re willing, I’d be open to a revival of this… in a different sense.”

A single tear escapes your eye, warm on your skin. 

If you needed any reminder that he’s capable of melting your heart, you have it now.

Unable to form words you lift your joined hands and press your lips to his ringfinger, forming a ring of ice around it with your breathe.

Maybe later, when your hearts have settled, you will think about something permanent.

But, as Hitoshi would say, Love does not care about these things.

Love sees beyond.  

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[maidragoste]

I'm sorry

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader (Daughter of Rhaenyra) x Aegon II Targaryen

part 6

Masterlist Serie

Hello, sorry for the delay, I hope you like the new chapter. I warn you that from now on I will probably upload drabbles or one shots of the story before publishing chapter 8 Thanks for all the support, it always makes me happy to answer your questions and comments. reblogs and likes are always appreciated

Some words are repeated a lot. especially "child" because Aemond refuses to call his son by his name and neither the Queen or Aegon know what his name is

If you want to be part of my taglist

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

"I should go with you" you insisted looking at Aemond, who was your only company in your rooms since Aegon had gone to prepare for the travel to Harrenhal.

As soon as your husbands woke up from their nap, you asked your servants to bring them dinner. While they ate the three of them had planned their next moves, of course first Aegon and Aemond told you who were the ones who conspired for your murder. The truth was that you weren't surprised to hear that your first husband's lover had been part of the conspiracy, what surprised you was that she would give herself away by sending the poison antidote. What was even more surprising was that Borros Baratheon had been a participant. You knew that he is a proud man but you did not think that he would commit treason just because Aegon had not chosen one of his daughters as his wife. By the end of dinner, it was decided that you would stay in King's Landing and handle the execution of Borros Baratheon while your husbands would go to Harrenhal and handle Alys Rivers. You wanted to go with them, you wanted to meet Aemond's mistress and see what was so special about her getting your uncle to share a bed with her. Above all, you want Nix, your dragon, to be the one to devour the woman but you were weak to fly, you had to recover your strength and they couldn't afford to waste time waiting until you recovered. Both the king and the prince were afraid that someone would inform the witch that she had been found out and she would escape from her so they would not even wait for her to wake up but would leave right now and surprise the woman.

"You have to rest" he reminded you caressing your hand.

"I could fly with you or with Aegon," you insisted. You knew that Vhagar and Sunfyre would not harm you. Also, it would not be the first time you would fly with them.

"No"

"Why don't you want me to go?" you moved your hand away causing your husband to frown “Are you afraid that I will do something to the child? He would never hurt her"

"Don't you want me to get rid of the bastard too?"

"Of course not" you answered, startled, unable to believe that he was asking you that. You hated his mother, you hated that your husband had cheated on you, and the child was the living memory of Aemond's infidelity but that was not why you wanted his death, the baby was not to blame for your husband's decisions. Killing him wouldn't make you forget your husband's slight or make you feel better. "It is not the child's fault that you cannot keep it in your pants and that you have been unfaithful to me"

You hadn't even finished speaking when you noticed the fury in the prince's eye. But as fast as he saw him he disappeared.

“I don't know how many times I have to tell you until this enters your brain but I didn't sleep with that woman because she wanted to. She put a spell on me I wasn't in her bed of my own free will ”Aemond's voice was suddenly tired, unlike the previous times when he denied having had an affair with Rivers, it denoted anger“ And I don't want the child, I hate him. He is the reminder of everything that witch did to me. That child is going to be my great torment." For a moment you thought you heard your husband's voice crack. You realized that it had not been your imagination when he cleared his throat and avoided your gaze. For an instant, it came to you. memories of a little Aemond ashamed and devastated for not having a dragon "I hate myself for being such an idiot and letting myself be bewitched by that woman. You have to believe me when I tell you that I didn't want to sleep with her. She bewitched me.", got something in my wine or food. I swear"

You couldn't bear to see the suffering on your husband's face. You felt so guilty for having turned a deaf ear to her words, for not having believed him, for having made fun of him, for letting yourself be carried away by your anger and resentment. Before you could start apologizing the prince kept talking.

"Every time I heard that woman being named, I just felt anger and hate. Sometimes I even feel like throwing up thinking about…

"Aemond. I believe you" you interrupted him and took his face between your hands. You couldn't stand him continuing to torture himself remembering the witch "I believe you" you repeated caressing his cheek "I'm so sorry" you said trying to ignore the lump that formed in your throat. It was not your time to cry. Now it was about your husband, he was the one who suffered at the hands of that witch. If you wanted to murder Alys Rivers before, now even more. You wanted to make her pay for every time she hurt Aemond. "I should have heard you before"

"What matters is that now you believe me," said the prince, feeling like a burden was lifted from him. He didn't think he could ever completely forget what had happened in Harrenhal. But at least now that didn't come between you and him. Now you believe him.

"I love you" you kissed his forehead and you saw the hint of a smile on Aemond's face so you decided to do what when he was upset or discouraged "I love you," you said again, this time kissing him on the nose. You distributed more kisses all over his face, while you told him how much you loved him and you left his lips for last. You felt your heart warm at the prince's smile. "I love you" before you could kiss him yourself your husband stepped forward and captured your lips in a sweet kiss.

"Aemond, we should be leaving now," Aegon said, entering the room.

Reluctantly you turned away from the prince. He looked annoyed at his brother for interrupting the moment.

"Have a good travel" you gave him one last kiss and watched him walk towards the door "Aemond" you called out to him before he left "It wasn't your fault what happened"

You didn't have to say more for Aemond to understand that you were talking about what happened in Harrenhal. He was surprised before your words. I didn't think you were right but it still felt good to hear them. He didn't know what to say so he just nodded in your direction and left the room. He didn't want to see you say goodbye to his brother so he decided to go ahead of Aegon and go find Vhagar.

Aegon looked at you expectantly, as if he was waiting for an invitation, you couldn't help but snort in amusement at the image of him.

"Come," you said, patting your bed and Aegon soon sat next to you "Have a good trip"

You didn't know if the first to reach the other's lips was Aegon or you. You couldn't help but feel guilty for enjoying the kiss. You felt as if you were betraying Aemond in some way as if you were cheating on him. Wanting to stop feeling that way, you pulled away from Aegon. He made a face, he wanted to keep kissing you. For him, he was never going to get enough of you but he knew he had to go.

"Wait, Aegon" you took your hand when he was getting up making him settle back "I need you to do something for me"

"Anything" he answered instantly causing you to look at him with a raised eyebrow for not even thinking about it before.

"You will take care of Aemond and avoid something he might regret," you asked although the truth sounded more like an order.

"In general it's the other way around" replied the king with a hint of amusement "But I'll try"

"I'm serious" you sighed, hesitating to tell him what you really feared but needed him to take care of "I don't think Aemond would hurt the boy but I'm afraid that in a moment of anger, he made a decision he may regret. You guys they're just going to get rid of Alys Rivers. If he hurt the child people will think we're cruel and we'll just give them another reason why the Targaryens shouldn't rule."

Some people already thought of your family as monsters for committing relative murder. Mostly people talked about Aemond, how cruel he had been for murdering your 13-year-old brother, and how sadistic he was for killing all the men except Larys of the Strong family. If your husband were to hurt the child, his own child, his reputation only gets worse. You couldn't let that happen if you wanted him to be Hand of the King one day. They could not build the kingdom again with only fear in your favor. "Then what should we do with the child? Bring him to court?" Aegon didn't even know his nephew but he already felt sorry for him imagining him growing up in the court. He was sure that he was hearing the word bastard wherever he went. He was even sure that not even his own mother would accept it. Alicent loved her grandchildren but couldn't imagine her mother taking care of Aemond's bastard.

"No" you answered instantly remembering your first husband's words, Aemond would not be at peace in his own house knowing that the child was there “The child will stay in Harrenhal. Just take care of finding someone to take care of him."

"You say that as if it were easy," said the king. "There is no lord in Harrenhal to care for him."

"I'm sure you'll find someone. Some childless couple or a servant who has lost their own child in the war. In addition, the crown will take care of sending him coins for the care of the child "

"The council will not agree," Aegon said with a grimace, already thinking of the future headaches he would have during council meetings.

"The boy has Targaryen blood, we can't leave him to his fate" you frowned.

"I said that the council would not agree, not me," said the king raising both hands as a sign of innocence. He didn't want you to be upset with him "I'm on your side"

"Thank you" you gave him a small smile "You should go before Aemond kicks your ass for taking so long" Aegon sighed exaggeratedly making you roll your eyes.

"And whose fault is it?" he replied before giving you one last kiss and leaving.

•••••

It wasn't in your plans to go to your brother's room but after executing Borros Baratheon you didn't want to be alone and your own mind would start to eat away at you. You need to distract yourself from the image of your mother being burned by Sunfyre. Yes, you ordered Nix to burn the man alive. Maybe you should have chosen to cut off his head yourself because now you couldn't stop thinking about your mother.

"Egg" you didn't even bother to knock on the door you just went inside.

You felt relieved to see that he wasn't busy with his lessons but your relief didn't last when you noticed that he didn't react to your call and that he was once again sitting and looking out the window in silence. You walked towards him making as much noise as possible but he still didn't react. "Egg" You touched his shoulder slowly hoping not to scare him but still, he flinched at your touch. "I'm sorry" you moved your hand away not wanting to bother him but he took your hand and began to play with your fingers without saying anything "What were you thinking?" you asked, unable to stand more in silence. In general, it is always you who starts the conversation.

"At your wedding," he replied without meeting your eyes. He didn't want you to see that he was still scared. He almost lost you. You're all he had left besides Rhaena and Baela. to Baela. If you died, he would be left alone.

"Master Finnian told me that you helped him find the antidote"

"It didn't help anyway. I didn't save you" your brother said angrily with himself. He had felt so helpless seeing you unconscious and unable to help you. He felt just as helpless as when he had watched Sunfyre helplessly burn her mother. When he saw you delirious with fever he thought that again he would have to watch another member of his family die.

"Egg, don't be hard on yourself," you asked and with your free hand, you took his chin and caressed his face gently. For a moment Aegon closed his eyes and pretended that the person caressing him so tenderly was his mother. Tears slipped down her cheeks and you felt guilty so you tried to calm her down "That poison was invented by a witch and she was the only one who had the solution. But we don't have to worry anymore, the king and the prince will take care of her" you said without knowing that you just broke Aegon's spell, bringing him back to reality.

"I'm always going to worry. Now they'll take care of the witch but what if someone else shows up?" Your heart ached to hear your little brother's words. He was just a child, his only worries should be his lessons and being able to steal sweets from the kitchens without being discovered. You hated that you couldn't have protected Aegon's innocence. The war had taken your grandparents, your mother, Jace, Luke, Joffrey, and Viserys, but it had also taken Egg from you. You were sure that he would never be the same again and you couldn't blame him because you would never be the same as before. But you wished with all your heart that Egg would be the same innocent and happy boy as always. How you wanted to hear him laugh again.

"Now the whole family will have a taster, we'll be more careful" you assured and you wiped his tears with your fingers "And if someone wants to fight us then we'll respond with fire and blood" you felt stupid when you saw how Aegon seemed more anguished at your last words. You clearly made me remember your mother's death again "I'm sorry" you apologized with a shaky voice. It hurt you that you couldn't even say the words of your house without making your brother suffer. It pained you to think that Egg would always be scarred by war. It hurt you to think that he would never want a dragon again, that he would never live that bond again. "I'm sorry" you repeated and this time they were both in tears.

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[matchibee]

Stay

something something, you get injured, something something, Miguel’s reaction.

I honestly didn’t know where to go w this I just knew I wanted it to go somewhere, not proofread

It wasn’t easy, god this was difficult. Miguel couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way you moved fluidly, a river of your own creation. So sure in your movement, so unique in your existence.

Miguel couldn’t help it if his gaze lingered for one, two then three seconds too long. Couldn’t help if when the two of you exchanged glances he wanted nothing more than to dive into your eyes, submerged in a gaze that reflected how deeply he yearned to touch you.

But Miguel was afraid.

He was far more afraid than he’d ever prove capable of admitting, a man scorn by the flame of grief, fanning the embers that threatened to spread.

Couldn’t his broken mind repair itself so he could indulge in your presence?

Perhaps it was too much to ask.

But the multiverse asked too much of him, simultaneously. Asked too much as it placed an incarnate of perfection before his very eyes, a small piece of heaven practically in the palm of his hand, but a man as corrupted as Miguel couldn’t dare touch you. He didn’t want to condemn you to the depths of whatever lied within this sphere of rock and ash.

But who did Miguel think he was fooling? Try as he might, there was no force in this universe that could cease his rampant mind, a man on edge. To keep from reaching out to you exercised a great deal of strength, Miguel practically groveling in your presence.

Thank goodness nobody had taken notice.

Right?

“Miguel can be… interesting.” You told the group of spiders at your table — Pavitr, Hobie, Gwen and Peter B. “But I don’t think he treats me any differently than anyone else.”

The collective groans left you taken aback, munching on your collection of a meal as you gave them a moment to speak their peace.

“I’ve never seen him yell at you, never! You don’t find that a bit odd?��� Pavitr was by far the most passionate about the subject, vocal without hesitance. A young boy in the midst of his own love wanting nothing more than to see those he cared for engrossed in adoration as palpable as his own.

But perhaps it would be best if you reconsidered who you attracted, for his mental health.

Just so he could sleep at night.

“Maybe I dont screw up as often as you guys do.” You shrugged your shoulders, not buying anything they had to say. Miguel didn’t like you, he was your boss, a man battling inner demons. He didn’t have time for affections, let alone those feelings stemming from a member who’d arrived only a short time prior to Gwen.

“Pav has a point,” Gwen spoke up, all eyes on her. “He seems… less angry whenever you’re around.”

Through a sip of your beverage you let out a spur of sarcasm. “Wow, revolutionary.”

“It is a bit odd the only missions you ever go on are with him, yeah? Like the bossman wants to protect his little secret.”

The call of your name, Lyla appearing at your shoulder, startling you from the conversation.

“What’s up, Lyla?”

“Miguel’s looking for you in his office — says he needs you for a mission.”

The table erupted into a cacophony of ooo’s, eyebrows wiggling as smirks graced their mischievous faces. “Shut it,” Your groaned through clenched teeth. “You’re forgetting whose AI this is.”

“Oh, she knows all about your little crush on Miguel, mate.” Hobie always proved to be the blunt one, an anarchist with a mission for mischief. “What we’re tryna figure out is if the man upstairs fancies you.”

“He’s not… Hobie, do you know what—“

The call of your name once more, this time from a voice that proved even more familiar, bodies growing stiff as you opened the communication channel. “I had Lyla call you five minutes ago. We have to get going.”

Your response fell from your lips without missing a beat. “Right, on it.”

“Get some!” Hobie bellowed, your jaw going slack as you made a dangerous bout of eye contact, glare like daggers, Hobie not one to retreat from a challenge.

“Get what?” Miguel was confused on the line, and though you couldn’t see his face you knew his palms fell to his hips. “What are you getting?”

“Hobie was asking Peter B. to grab him more empanadas.” The lie slipped from your tongue as though it was awaiting the moment it would escape. “Bring me some too, won’t you, Peter?”

The man mumbled a string of words, obviously dazed, yet rising from his seat nonetheless. “I’ll be there in a sec.” You told Miguel, Hobie chiming in with a ‘Damn straight.’ just before you could close off the channel.

Was it too late to change professions?

You strolled into Miguel’s lair with hesitant movement, the scene previous playing through your mind like a twisted nightmare, one you feared to recall was memory. “You wanted to see me?"

Of course Miguel wanted to see you, his guiltiest of pleasures. It would be a lie to say he hadn't meticulously chosen you for this mission, a low-stakes anomaly that could've been bested by even the most juvenile of Spider-People.

An opportunity to hear your voice, to watch as the sunlight bounced against your skin, shimmering as though gilded by the heavens.

"I thought you were getting an empanada?" His eyes had merely flickered to you, your body and the way you seemed to lean away, your gaze that refused to meet his.

Shit.

"I ate it on the way here."

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." Miguel was fiddling with the screens manifested before him, switching between useless tabs, needing to do something with his hands.

You furrowed your brows. "Why not?"

"Wouldn't want you choking."

Your lips curled into a smile then, a genuine expression hidden beneath your mask, suddenly grateful you'd opted to wear in on the way here. It was such a simple string of words, hardly a declaration of love, but within his extension there was concern, affection.

"We should get going." After all, you had things to tend to in your own dimension, never a dull moment. "Wouldn't wanna leave my universe hanging."

Your universe.

Miguel loathed to think you were from another dimension, a domain apart from his embrace. If he had it his way, and it seemed the cards were never in his favor, Miguel would keep you alongside him here for eternity.

But you had duties, responsibilities.

Relationships.

His heart clenched at the thought, the prospect that someone was waiting for you upon your return, someone that wasn't him.

But a man could dream.

In life there was love, so many infinite forms there was only a matter of time before Miguel could call you his. And perhaps if it wasn't in this lifetime it would be the next. Just as he wasn't meant to be a father in this life, perhaps he wasn't destined for affection, either.

Wordlessly, Miguel opened the portal, stepping into the multicolored spiral, not waiting for you to accompany him.

After all, he knew you'd be there without fail.

Upon your emergence Miguel already had Lyla surveying the area for debris, any clue towards discovering the presence of the entity. "Oh!" Lyla had perked up from her crouched position, analyzing a coat she'd been eyeing for quite some time. "They're just up ahead."

Miguel looked to you from over his shoulder, eyes behind his mask making you feel impossibly small. "Ready?"

"Always."

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

Too much to handle, far too much to handle.

The only words that penetrated your mind as a Chameleon variant dragged you through concrete, the material of your suit having ripping along your shoulder, trailing down to your forearm.

There had proven to be multiple anomalies, something Miguel hadn't accounted for, the man rushing off to bring yet another Vulture variation to their knees, leaving you stuck with a knock-off Chameleon.

In an attempt to break free you repositioned yourself onto your back, pain spreading far quicker than previously, pushing your legs up against the reptile's chest and repelling him as far as your legs could throw him.

But the variant was relentless, baring his teeth as he charged towards you without a second thought, entirely unhinged. In one fell swoop he had you thrown up against the side of a building, mind abuzz with static as you fell onto your knees, an imprint of your body immortalized within the concrete structure.

Blood trickled down your nose, chapped lips stained a cruel crimson. You peeled your mask from your face in an effort to get some semblance of air, breaths heaving, a piercing pain erupting throughout your chest.

Still, you rose to your feet, fists held out in front of you.

"You Spider-people are so annoying," Chameleon spoke in a voice like pins and needles. "Always getting back up no matter how hard I knock you down."

You laughed, a chuckle that bubbled in your stomach despite the pain. "That's kinda part of your job description."

Chameleon clicked his tongue. "And your death is a requirement for mine."

"Well now you're just lying."

Chameleon didn't entertain your attempt at humor for a second, lunging towards you, body knocking into a streetlamp, the post denting upon impact.

This variant really had a proclivity for tossing people. Maybe if villainy didn't work out he could pursue a career in the major leagues.

And while the image was entertaining, a humanoid reptile dominating home plate, you weren't sure how much longer you could remain conscious. Your vision was a blur, multicolored apparitions bubbling across your peripheral, invading clarity. It was only a matter of time before your body conceded, giving into the aches and pains, the sleep beckoning your name.

No, wait. Someone was literally calling your name.

The seas of blur parted for just a moment, Miguel rushing towards you as though a valiant knight in his blue-red armor. In one fell swoop he had Chameleon on his knees, the variant powerless against his strength. He was sent to the holding facility, he flash of light indicating you'd won.

Well, Miguel had won, but it was your victory all the same.

In a flash your body went limp, Miguel there to hold you close, head held within the palm of his hand, yearning for you to stay with him.

"Hey," Miguel was speaking in whispers, heartbeat rampant as he felt your limp form against him. "We can go back now, we won."

Your hand pressed up against his chest, just barely missing his cheek. "I'm fine right here."

Miguel had never seen you like this, injured and entirely vulnerable. He hated it, despised it, prayed to whoever could hear him that he could take your pain away, shoulder it for himself.

"No," Miguel shook his head profusely, tears brimming in his eyes, but you couldn’t see them through vision that speckled like constellations. "We're taking you back to HQ, taking you—"

Miguel watched as you pressed your cheek to his shoulder, the only display of affection your aching bones could manage. "Let’s stay here, Miguel."

He’d stay with you for eternity if it meant Miguel could have you, swimming through the river styx until all he knew was your pain, damming himself for just the opportunity to see you once more.

Miguel looked into your eyes, truly looked into them, his hands pressed against your shoulders, calling your name through your delirium. In orbs with a painfully distant gaze he could see himself, the way his face contorted into an expression of refusal — Miguel couldn’t lose you, would rather succumb to darkness that have to give up something he held close.

“I’m here,” Miguel whispered your name, tears like raindrops pattering against your skin. “I’ll always be here.”

But if Miguel made such a promise, an oath that chained his heart, he needed you to make it too. “But you have to stay with me, okay?”

You weren’t sure how long you’d been down, how long you fought your mind to obey you, ignore the pain coursing across your skin, infecting your soul. But it was Miguel who brought you back, Miguel who danced his lips across the top of your head. “I need you.”

And you needed him too, more than he could ever know.

You snapped back quicker than you’d believed possible, mind buzzing with emotion, your senses enveloped by everything Miguel.

A gaze of flame that burned with your image, reflected in flecks of gold, an ember that trickled into a wildifre at just the mere mention of your name — a gaze so intense if you looked into his eyes for too long you might burn, erupt into a pillar of light as oblivion reached to interlace your fingertips in eternity.

And despite the intensity, the heat radiating off of him, there was nothing you yearned for more than you yearned to be with him, to exist within him. You’d accept nihility with open arms if it only meant a second of his touch.

“You’re here,” You smiled through the pain, entirely believing you’d been hallucinating Miguel’s presence until this very moment.

“You needed me.”

His words were instantaneous, missing not a single beat. He held you closer than he’d ever been capable before, a climax to this tension that festered in the pits of his stomach.

“Thank you,” You whispered, arms wrapping around his shoulders, enveloping him as closely as you proved capable. “I love you.” The words slipping from your lips without a second thought.

You could feel how tense Miguel grew, entirely rigid. And though the words tickled his throat, a pain like nothing before, Miguel couldn’t help the yearning of his heart. “I love you too.”

There was something about those three words that left you in a state of delirium, body yearning for everything that encompassed Miguel, entirely incapable of alternate thought.

“Miguel,” You spoke, limbs still sore, entirely conscious you couldn’t move on your own. “Can we go?”

The man chuckled, hand stroking down your cheek, tilting your head so your gaze would be entirely on him. Slowly, as though you might shatter, Miguel drew closer.

"Where should I take you?" Miguel mumbled against your lips, still concious of the injuries slowly healing in their own time.

"Home."

And with a smile, one that burned his cheeks, Miguel took you back to Nueva York.

[allkordelia]

Keep Me Near Your Heart XII

"Do it again! Do it again." I ask giddy watching Enith with a wide smile.

She gives me a look before shaking her head with a small smile, I sat criss cross across from her on the bed as she sat with her legs dangling off the bed. She moves her hands slowly, I turn my eyes to the object she had laid on the bed between us. A shell. A coin. And a red onyx stone. I watch with a small smile as each one slowly floats off the bed, I glance at enith as she focus on the objects in front of her. I look back at the object as they start to slowly dance as the spin in a circle.

When Enith came to my chamber with a conflicted look on her face, I thought the worst, I was worried and I didn't waste time asking her what was the matter. The last thing I thought she ever tell me was that she was a witch, well a red priestess apparently, I never heard of anyone like that before. When she first revealed her powers I was shock, and a little bit afraid, until the shock and fear finally wash over and I was elated. I always knew she was different, I just didn't know how didn't she truely was.

Enith let out a exhaust sigh as the objects dropped back to the bed, like before.

"I'm sorry," She said rubbing her temple with her figners, "I haven't use my abilities for so long, I forget how much it takes out of me." She explains.

"How old was you when you discovered your...abilities?" I asked curious.

"Since I was nine," she drop her hand to her lap, "I found out when I accidentally set my papa's barn on fire." She chuckle softly making me smile.

"You say your not a witch but a red priestess, what is that?"

"Well, I'm not a red priestess, yet. The red priestess are loyal servants to R'hllor, the lord of light, he is where we get our power from. Once I go back home to finish my studies, I, too, will be one. "

I frown.

"When must you go back?" Enith shrugs her shoulders.

"My sisters have yet to say, but do not fret, I was close to finishing back at Maegonsæte. If they ever call me home, i will be back no more than a month later." I nod my head slowly at her words, feeling a bit grateful.

"Well, let's hope soon, I would rather you do it now than later." I smirk slolwy creep onto my lips, "Maybe, once you come back, you can turn aemond and alicent into slimy toads."

"Mmm, I don't think I can turn someone into something they already are." We share a look before erupting into chuckles.

Enith got off the bed to move around the room to pick scattered clothes off the floor, I watch her as I lean against the headboard.

"I am happy that you finally told me, it means you trust me and that means a lot." Enith turns around with arm full before putting on the table in front of her to fold, she gave eyeroll as she start folding.

"I trusted you long before thus," she looks up at me.

"I know I just wanted to hear you said it," Enith snort looking away with a shake of her head as a smile grace her lips faintly, "I love that we could do this," I state making her glance up feom the task at hand to watch me, "That we trust each other so much to keep each other secrets, I'm happy that I talked aemond out of dismissing you." I smile blissfully, relaxing with a peace of mind.

It felt like a while since I had that, my life was alright, I didn't feel as stress or depressed like all those moons ago. I wouldn't say things gotten better with Aemond and I, maybe more civil I dare say, but I keep a firm line between us, we can be friends and we can fuck but we will never be romantically involved. And of course, in one ear and out the other, I think since River's departure, aemond had been spending even more time with me. I think this the first time in a while since he haven't been here, bothering me.

"As am I." Enith sighs, I blink twice putting focus on my friend as I tense Enith's anxiousness, "But, there is another reason I told you, what I am." I furrow my brows as she looks up at me.

Enith put the last folded clothing to the side before walking around the table, I move my arms to cross over my chest as I wait for her to explain herself. She stopped at the bottom of my bed with a nervous glint in her eye, I bite the inside of my cheek worried.

"What do you mean?" I finally ask, enith sigh again fidgeting with her fingers.

"I have...seen something." She said low with a dip chin.

"If it's about Aemond and Alys--" I started, but stopped when she looked up at me and shook her head.

"No, nothing about them, it's about you and aemond." I furrowed my brows, I moving to get off the bed.

"Okay," I draw out, "What about me and aemond." I asked, looking at Enith as she watch me warily before I stood in front of her, she played with a ring on her pinky for a moment before she begin to speak.

"I am so sorry that you have to found out this way, but maybe it is good that you found out like this rather than it creep up on you--"

"Enith, your rambling," I step close grabbing her hands stopping her from fidgeting with the fingers, "Please, whatever it is, just tell me."

Enith purse her lips as she swallow, after a second she let out a soft sigh and squeeze my hands.

"I sense it days ago, your aura was pure white as if you were glowing..." she looks up at me, "It wasn't until the night of the feast did I fully sense it...him..." I follow her gaze as it landed on my stomach, "A vision of a boy, it was hard to see him at first but I knew it was a boy, I could make out  his small form from afar. When he finally faced me. His skin was sun kissed like yours and his features was soft. He looks so much like you, princess."

My hands slipped from enith's grasp, I step back not looking at her. I didn't know what to say, I turn my back to her, my hand going to my stomach.

"Can you tell me how long I am?" I ask, my hand turning to clench at my stomach.

"I-I think but it is hard to say--"

"Just tell me, please. " I beg feeling my eyes start to burn.

"Two, maybe three months."

I covered my eyes with my other hand as I dug my nails into my stomach, I shook my head thinking and thinking before letting out a sob.

"...princess."

I shook my head hearing Enith come up behind me, I felt her hand on my back making me move away.

"Please, don't touch me, right now I can't..." I move back to my bed to sit, I lean forward with my head in my hands, "This can't be happening, it can't."

It was too soon, It felt like it was too soon I only lost visenya eight moons ago, but it still felt like some sort of betrayal to her. I made a deal with Aemond that once winter end we could try again, at the time it was a good enough plan, I didn't have to worry about his insufferable mother hounding me not with Aemond keeping her away and I didn't have to feel pressure about producing a heir. What I didn't plan was Ser Krey.

"I am sorry, jaenara. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut," I sniff hearing Enith walk near me again, "I should have never open my mouth, oh please, my lady, please do not cry I can not bare to see you this way." I sniff again, lifting my head a bit to wipe my nose on the sleeve of my robe.

"I-It is not you, Enith. It is me...and my stupidity."

"Nonesense, your highness. Do not speak about yourself in such a way--" I shook my head angrily and look up at her.

"No, you don't understand." I said making her look at me with confuse look," I do not know who the father is."

Enith's bemused expression twisted into a look of shock, I look away from her putting my head back in my hands.

"Jaenara--"

"I can't have this child, not when I know how Alicent is, she will find out, and when she does she will use all her power to convince Aemond to get rid of him. To send him to the wall." I look at Enith again, "We can't let that happen."

"We won't, m'lady. Your son will be save." I nod my head.

"Yes, I know." I stood up before making eye contact with Enith, "Because you will take him away, far away from here," A look of panic passed through Enith's face," Once he is born, you will take him to my aunt and have him raise there at Dragonstone."

"Princess, I can't."

"Yes, you can. Your the only person who can." Enith stare at me speechless, she teeter away from me, "Enith, I know this is a lot to ask of you." Enith snort catching me off guard for a second.

"You think." She looks back at me, "Jaenara, I can't just take your child and give it to Rhaelle, that would be kidnapping and I could be put to death."

"That is only if you get caught, which I know you won't not with your abilities." Enith sigh with a shake of her head.

"Still, jaenara, don't you think this is all a bit rash."

"No, if my son is taken from me, he will no doubt be given to the Night's Watch. Aemond will not claim him as his own, his pride will not let him." I make my way to Enith, I hold my hands out for her waiting a moment before she place her hands in mine, "I am alone here. All I have is you and ser krey, I need you to promise me that you do this." Enith swallow glancing away.

"It must be another way we can--"

"It isn't. Aemond will send my child away if there's one little detail of him that he isn't his, and I will be back locked away from the world again." Enith looks back at me with a look in her eye.

"Can you truely say for certain that Aemond will take your child away," I furrow my brows taken back, "He claims that he loves you, now with River's gone, his attention is back to you and from what I heard. It seems river isn't the object of his affection anymore," I scoff at her.

"That may be true, but she like come back, she always do and when she does I will be cast aside once again--"

"But, you don't have to be, my lady." I purse my lips staring at her curious, "You been treated so badly for so long that you forget that you have power within these walls, Alicent may have spies but the knights serve only one house. Yours." I look away from her, "Let's say you are right that his affection for you dies and goes back to Rivers if she returns, but do you know how Rivers control Aemond?" I look back at her with narrow eyes.

"How."

"She used his love for her to get what she wanted, but ever since visenya's death, it seems he have fallen out of love for the whore." I chew my lips in thought.

"So, all I must do is sleep with him to control him?" Enith shook her head.

"No, that was River's mistake, whores believe fucking is the only way into a man's heart. You must show him your own heart for him to be smitten to you." I let go of her hands at what she was himting at.

"You want me to pretend to love him, so i can control him." Enith gives me a look.

"That is the only way to assure your son stays with you, his love for you could blind him from your son's misplace feature and even claim him as his own." I shook my head slightly in thought.

What she was saying sounded like a sound proof plan, but it sounded too good to be true. I have learn by now things aren't as easy as it seems, and what if it backfires in my face.

"Enith, I don't think I can--" Her hands went to my arms, I look at her as she gives me a reassuring look.

"Do you trust me?" She ask, i look at her mildly taken back before nodding.

"With my whole heart." Enith smiled at me before placing her hands on my cheek.

"Then, trust me when I say thus, aemond loves you and if you show him a little flicker of it, he will be devoted to you and only you. Your doing this for your son, jaenara." I lick my lips before nodding.

Enith's squeeze my arm before letting go, she moves away from me and collected the folded clothes and her hands before facing me again.

"I have to go clean these, I'll be back later, okay?" I nod stepping back and going to my bed.

As enith walks towards the door, I get under my covers resting my hand over my stomach.

"Jaenara." I glance at her, "You must remember that you have the blood of the dragon in you, do not make them think you don't. That bastad whore has nothing on you, princess." A small smile creep up to my lips making give a curt nod.

"Thank you, Enith." The handmaid bow her head. 

"Of course, m'lady."

I watch her turn and leave, I sigh turn to lay on my back, my hand rubbing up and down my stomach in thought. Who do I tell first, my husband or my lover, should I even tell ser krey that i am possibly carrying his child, what if he wants to be part of his life? I can't have ser krey and aemond fighting for my affection and that of my child without fearing them kill each other over me.

I sigh out a exasperated sigh.

"What an dauting situation we are in, little one." I whispered.

[boygiwrites]

Harley D. Dixon 36

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📖Chapter List.

"Harley?"

Merle. It's Merle!

My voice comes out as a screeching cry — "Merle!" — like I've just watched him get shot at the climax of some dramatic movie, before I'm breaking free of Glenn and crashing into my Uncle's arms, and he's warm like the Georgia sun around me and he's alive.

"Holy shit," I hear him rasp in my ear as he hugs me tight. I'm thinkin' the exact same thing! Holy shit!

"You're al— You're a—," I blubber, pulling my face away from his neck to look him in the eye. "You're alive!"

It's been a whole year since I last saw him, but almost nothing about him has changed. His face is broad and wrinkled by the sun, nose ugly and crooked from all those bar fights, and he's still got that look of a brute about him that my Dad never quite mastered.

He didn't die in Atlanta. He didn't die anywhere. He weren't layin' out on the concrete roof of a skyscraper, slathered in sweat and blood as the dead tore into him with wet fingers like greedy kids at a barbeque — Not like he was during so many late nights, dyin' over and over again in my nightmares — because he lived. I got no idea how, and I sure don't got no idea how I ever doubted him, neither.

"I sure am," He smirks, his dark blue eyes tinged with adrenaline.

He glances over my shoulder at Dad, chuckling to himself at the sight.

Dad hasn't moved. Not even an inch. He stands there, staring at us with that same look on his face as when he watched me step onto that frozen river last year, afraid for my life but without anything he could do to save me, help me, pull me back into safety.

His gaze darts between Merle's face and mine over and over again, as if he can't decide who to look at.

Why ain't he happy to see him?

Merle's chuckle dies away, leaving us in a terrible silence. I can't figure out what's wrong.

"I asked you nicely to drop yer shit," One of Merle's friends warns them. "Or did you forget?"

Reluctantly, Dad and Glenn throw their weapons aside, lifting their hands in surrender.

"Merle," Dad eventually says in greeting, tense and unfeeling, glancing at me once again. "Long time."

"Forever," He agrees. "And Harley's barely grown a hair's width, haven't ya, princess? Woof. What the Hell happened to yer hair?"

"It got a bunch'a blood in it, so I cut it all off and now I just keep it short. Daddy helps me." I giggle as he ruffles my hair, my gaze dropping down to his other hand — Or, well — Blade. He ain't got no hand at all. I gasp, "What the Hell happened to yer arm?"

"You like it, huh?" He lifts it up, the metal glinting just a few inches from my eye. "Fixed it up myself."

"Woah," I breathe, looking into my own pupil in the reflection.

"You can tell her all about it back in town," His friend with the brown skin angrily butts in. He shoves his gun at Dad and Glenn, his wavy, black hair suckered to his forehead with sweat as he sneers at them. "I know a few guys who'll wanna have a chat with these fucks!"

Merle lowers his blade as he stands to his full height. "Hold up, India. You're really gonna ruin my nice family reuni—?"

"I don't give a shit if it was Christmas, Merle. They gotta pay."

"Arjun's right." The other man steps forward, snatching the gun and knife from my holster and throwing them aside, making Dad and Glenn tense up, relaxing only slightly when he steps back. "They're comin' back with us. Frankly, whether you like it or not."

I don't know why, but I back away from Merle, slowly at first but then I'm running to hide behind my Dad.

What? Coming back with them?

Back, where?

I thought it was all just a big misunderstanding, and that now I got my Uncle here, everything's alright?

Uneasy, I glance at the dead man laying off to the side. His vacant eyes stare at the sky as his blood trickles out from around the bolt lodged between his eyebrows, slowly dripping into a big puddle on the tarmac. Eric, I think they called him.

"Are you serious?" Glenn exclaims in outrage. "We've got a kid! Merle, that's your niece!"

"Wanna tell me where you're holed up?" Merle asks, and when Glenn's stammering is met with a smug look of indifference, almost like he's bored, I realize he's not going to save us from this. This isn't a reunion anymore. "Didn't think so. Wherever you're set up, I'll bet'chu my other arm our place is ten times the fuckin' paradise. Just make this easy for us, man. Harley won't be in no typa trouble."

Peeping around my Dad, I look up at his face. "Daddy, what's goin' on?"

I don't wanna go nowhere with these people when the invite's like this. They're angry with us — Real angry.

Dad looks like he's about to explode. "Merle—"

"It's either that or the Indian and the fat-ass shoot us all in the head right now," He deadpans. "And while I wouldn't be too sad about Glenny here gettin' his shit rocked, I don't fancy it happening to you or Harley. Okay? C'mon. This is a favor, brother."

I look up at Dad again, but he's silent. What's gonna happen to us at Merle's paradise town?

Glenn takes a step forward. "You can't do thi—"

BANG.

His hands fly to his thigh. "Fuck!"

As Dad gasps, I squeal, "Glenn!"

He shot him!

"I'm not messin' around, cowboy," The white man snarls, marching forward and grabbing Glenn's arm. "Get movin'!"

We're leaving with them. We really are.

Dad quickly picks me up and protectively cups my head to his shoulder, his grip on me tight. I wrap my legs around his waist, not realizing how much I'd been wanting to be in his arms. Oh, my God. I know we killed their friend, but can't we just tell them we're sorry? It was in self-defence, and nobody alive this far into the end of the world ain't done it at least once. We were only here for baby formula.

Dad grunts as the Indian man shoves us forwards with his gun, the sound of Glenn struggling to walk behind us.

He needs a doctor. We can't run away even if we wanted to, not when he's like this. That man knew that when he shot him.

Merle's laughing his ass off. "Holy shit, Boyd! Ya ain't have to shoot him!"

"Whatever, Merle. Just get the keys outta my pocket 'fore I shoot you, too. You're drivi— Shit!"

Mouse suddenly lunges at him, biting onto his ankle and shaking his head from side to side, growling nastily.

"Shit! Shit, get him off!" He cries out as Merle rears his leg back and kicks the dog in the face.

Yelping, Mouse backs off before a couple gunshots split the tarmac around him and he turns on his heel, scampering away through the trash and litter. My heart jumps and sinks at the same time, watching him disappear into the trees with his tail tucked.

I feel Dad's muscles tense under me.

Lowering his gun, Merle calls out after him, "Scram, poochie!"

"Shit, that hurts," Boyd winces down at his blood-soaked jeans, shoving Glenn forward. "Hurry it up. I got a date with the med bay."

"It's gonna be okay, chicken," My Dad's mumbling into my ear as we all make our way across the parking lot, fingers squeezing the back of my neck. "I can feel yer little heart racin'. It's gonna be okay. Me and Glenn and Merle ain't gonna let nothin' happen to you."

Merle said this was a favor. If we told them where the prison was, we'd be leading a bunch of angry people right to our family, and they might want to take our food or our beds or even our lives, just like those people that Jim was with who threatened the Greene farm. If we just let them take us to their paradise instead, then maybe— Maybe they can sort this out? They won't shoot us all in the head?

"Where are we goin'?" I mumble into my Dad's shirt, watching the forest shrink behind us. "I don't wanna go."

"I know ya don't, chicky. Me, neither." He steps up onto the curb of the pavement, then back down on the other side and through the main parking lot, approaching their car. The man keeps his gun on us as he pulls the passenger door open. "But it's gon' be okay."

"Shut up and take shotgun," The man nods at the seat. "Your kid can sit in your lap."

Without answering, Dad climbs into the car, door slamming shut behind us. I watch over his shoulder as Glenn is forced into the middle of the back seats, his face wrung in pain, his fingers curled around the blood gushing from his thigh. Arjun and Boyd take a seat on either side of him, the fatter man shoving him upright before pointing his gun at the back of Dad's head, scaring me into looking away.

"We're gonna take a little drive," Merle sighs as he swings into the driver's seat and pulls his door shut.

He twists the keys into the ignition, engine rumbling to life.

As he peels outta the car park, Glenn's pained groans growing louder by the second, I wonder where that beetle went.

We end up at a checkpoint gate.

Merle's got his window rolled down and he's chatting it up with another one of his scary-lookin' friends, who I guess is a guard. They're talking about work schedules and other gossip, until Glenn makes a loud noise and he bothers to ask who we are. Oh, that's the guy from my old group up in Atlanta, he's telling him, And my brother and his daughter. My niece. I told you about her. Can you believe it? I ain't really listenin'. I'm looking out at the tall walls of sheet-metal, the barbed wire curled along the top of it, the people holding big guns up in the tower, spitting on the ground and smoking while they stare down at us with loose smirks. Somehow, it feels a little like the prison.

"No shit?" The guard eventually exclaims with a grin. "Hey, congrats, man. That's some crazy luck you got."

As he looks us over, twiddling his fingers in greeting, I feel my Dad's grip on me tighten before Merle pulls his attention back. "You're tellin' me, man. But listen. We gotta head on down to the blocks — Tell ya about it later — so get Philip for me, will ya?"

"Sure. I'll radio him," He nods. "But, yo? Where's Eric at?"

"Just open the fuckin' gates, Mendoza," Boyd snaps, pressing his gun harder to Glenn's temple. "I'm gettin' impatient."

The guard makes a shrugging gesture before he takes a step back, whistling sharply at somebody. "Open up! They're good!"

"What the Hell are, 'the blocks', Merle?" Dad grits as the guards begin to pull the gate open and Merle drives through. All the barbed wire and metal walls fall away, revealing pretty town houses and flower beds lining the streets. Merle weren't lyin'. This place looks like— Well, it looks like paradise. It feels like we've gone back in time, to before all the blood and death and walkers. "What's the plan?"

"The blocks are where we put the undesirables." We pass a woman and a man walking together with a baby stroller and a cute little dog on a leash, and they're happy and clean, and I wonder if they know what 'the blocks' are. They look like all they gotta worry about is what they're gonna have for lunch. I also wonder where Mouse is right now. Poor little guy. "They're gonna question you and the Asian."

"His name is Glenn," I mumble unhappily, knowing nobody gives a shit. They shot him.

Dad scoffs. "Should'a known you wasn't gonna send him to a doctor. Y'all ain't the special-treatment type, is ya?"

"Fuck you, Merle," Glenn whines from the backseat. "Fuck you."

"W-wait," I frown. "Ya can't leave him like this, Merle. Herschel says it ain't right."

Merle shrugs. "Who's Herschel?"

"He's an animal doctor. And he says you always gotta take the bullet out, or it might not get better. Please?"

"Princess, I think what you're sayin' is adorable," He says as we turn a corner, the streets suddenly becoming a little duller — No flowers, less people, open dumpsters and construction cones lining the curb. "And I get it, but it's outta my hands, okay?"

"Well, can't ya at least give him a bandage?"

"What about Harley?" Dad cuts me off before I can argue any more. "She sure ain't goin' to no, 'block'."

"Hey. I'm stayin' with you," I turn to face him. If that's where he and Glenn are goin', that's where I'm goin'. I'on care if the blocks is where they put their 'undesirables'. I'll be an undesirable with them. I can't be on my own. "Daddy, I gotta stay with you."

He ignores me. "Merle?"

"I know she ain't. Don't worry," He reassures him, pulling in next to a half-built house. "She can stay in my apartment."

"Good," Dad slowly nods, but it's not good at all.

"No. Dad, don't leave m—"

"It's better this way. Okay?" He scolds me, brows raised as he waits for me to answer, but I know that look in his eyes. I know why his fingers are shaking. He's scared. I give nod, before he pulls me in for a hug. "Okay. So, shut up and give yer Dad a hug."

Merle cuts the engine off.

"We're here. Get out." Arjun shoves his door open and climbs out, pulling on Glenn's shirt. "I said, 'Get out'. Come on."

"Fuck you," He whines again.

Dad places a kiss to my hair, pulling away as Boyd rips our door open. "It's gonna be okay. I'mma see you soon."

I shake my head. "How you know?"

"I'mma make 'em."

"What's the matter, asshole?" Boyd taunts as Dad reluctantly climbs out, leaving me in his seat. "Never been to prison before?"

"Sure," Dad jokes, pinning the man with a unamused look. "I'm gettin' fuckin' deja vu."

The door slams in my face.

"Come along, then, tough guy."

It's gonna be okay, I repeat in my head as he shoves my Dad forward with his gun. I'mma see you soon.

I watch them go. I want so bad to run out and cling to my Dad's leg, so tight they'll have to let me stay with him, but I remember what he's always told me. Sometimes, little girls don't get what they want. It's always for my own good, so I bite my tongue as he and Glenn hobble down the steps of the building's cellar door, a cold sense of grief washing over me as the top of their heads disappear.

It's only now that I realize I don't even know where I am.

"You heard yer old man," Merle says to break the silence. "It's better this way."

It's like I'm back in the parking lot at Arrendale State Prison, sitting on Merle's hip while they take my Daddy away. That jury was just a bunch of pansies, princess, he told me, They don't get what it means to be a Dad. He's innocent.

"They're just gonna ask him a few questions," He tells me now. "Nothin' he can't handle."

"I wanna go with 'em," I murmur to myself, staring longingly at the closed cellar doors.

If it's just questioning, why can't I go, too?

"No, ya don't," He laughs a bit, twisting the keys into the ignition. "C'mon. Let's go kick back at Uncle Merle's place, huh? Like old times?"

I say nothing as he pulls into the street.

"It'll be fun. Ya still like Twinkies?"

The door to Merle's apartment closes behind me.

Dumping his backpack on the floor, Merle stretches his arms over his head, groaning as he meanders up to his kitchen cabinets.

"Got 'em stashed away up here somewhere."

"Woah," I mumble, looking around. "You live here?"

"Welcome to my humble abode," He chuckles to himself. "It ain't too big, but you won't hear me complainin'."

We ain't never had no apartment. Apartments are for hipsters and rich kids, as Dad liked to say, but it looks like Merle's been living it up since the world ended. I'm kinda jealous, but it ain't his fault I sleep in a cell and had to eat mushrooms for four months.

As he paws through his groceries, I head over to the lounge area, picking up the magazine laid out on the coffee table. The shiny lady on the cover smirks at me, and when I notice how she got no clothes on, I quickly drop her back down. The cashews scattered at my feet and the empty bag of crisps shoved under the sofa suddenly seem very interesting, and also the baseball bat laying across the cushions. Merle was never very good at cleaning up after himself. Turning away, I pass the dining table, approaching the open window.

Sunshine sweeps over me as I push the curtains aside. The street below is loud, busy, normal. A pair of ducks wade around in the still, green water of a stagnant fountain in the nearby gardens, one dunking its head under as an armoured truck drives by.

"There they are."

If Dad was here, he'd prolly tell me that joke about ducks I like — What time does a duck wake up? At the quack of dawn. We read that in a fortune cookie when he ordered Chinese food one night. I hope he and Glenn are alright, but I ain't so sure.

Merle drops the box of Twinkies on the table. "Here we go, princess. Sit down."

Turning away from the window, I take a seat opposite of him.

"Are those real?" I ask. "No way."

"You know you sound like some sorta feral animal, askin' all these questions." He throws one to me. "Yeah, they're real."

"Thanks, Uncle Merle."

"We got a lotta catchin' up to do. You gotta be nine by now, right?"

"Yeah, I think so!"

"So, little miss nine-years-old, wanna hear the rest of that story?" He grins, taking a Twinkie for himself.

Tearing the plastic open, I nod, taking a bite. "We all thought you was dead."

"So did I, girl." He jokes, shaking his head. "Oh, man, I thought I was dead. Weren't no way any old Joe was gonna get himself outta that pickle, but I ain't any old Joe, am I? Nah. I thought of you, I thought of yer Daddy, and I cut myself outta them cuffs."

"That's how ya lost yer hand?" I giggle in disbelief, earning myself a nod. "You crazy, Merle. Did it hurt?"

"'Course it hurt. But I got it cauterized, got it all bandaged up with my shirt. You know, y'all was gone, time I got back."

"Wait, what? So, we missed ya?"

"By at least a day, is my guess. Fires were cold. I found one of yer socks on the ground. Kept it with me for weeks."

Oh. My Uncle is a real asshole — He's exactly the typa person he used to pride himself on protecting me from — but I know he loves me. To think, if we'd left just a few days later than we did, he could'a been with us this whole time. I used to think about that every day. Things prolly would'a been worse with him around, sure, but he's family. You're supposed to stick around when things get worse.

"Sorry, Merle," I sigh, fiddling with the crumbs on the table. "We didn't wanna leave. Really. But we had to."

"Yeah," He sneers. "Was it Officer Friendly?"

"Nah, it was me." I admit. "I got real sick. We thought I got scratched by a walker and we went to the CDC."

He deflates a little. "Well, shit, huh? What happened?"

"It was like I was dyin'. Dad was angry at everybody. He broke a walkie. Turns out, I just had food poisonin' from some bad jerky Glenn made. Ain't nobody ever taught him how to cure meat properly, you know. After that, he was kind of our only friend."

"What, y'all like that little twerp, now?" He chuckles awkwardly, taking another bite of his Twinkie.

"Merle," I pause, a little embarrassed I have to say it out loud. "Merle, I like all of 'em, now."

It's been a year — A year.

I like Officer Friendly. His woman, Lori. I like the Asian, and the housewife, Carol. I like all of 'em. I don't know when it happened, or if I really had a choice in it, but everything is different now. Even if some things are still the same, like Merle.

That group is my family, but he don't need to know that. I know he'll just say call me brainwashed.

"And to be real honest," I reluctantly add, "They're prolly wonderin' where we are right now. Y'know?"

This Twinkie is nice and all; I'm finally back with my Uncle again. I even saw a dog on a leash. But I hope he don't think I want to stay here. It ain't really a paradise if my family ain't here with me, or if my Dad and my friend are locked up in a cellar right now, being questioned. I gotta go back to my real home sometime. I don't belong here. Ya don't belong in a place that you got taken to at gunpoint.

Merle looks down at his empty wrapper, wordlessly crumpling it in his hand. I can tell he's pissed off.

"How much do you like it here?" I ask, suggesting, "I know you got new friends and all, but what if you came back with us?"

"Baby, I got an inklin' that's not how any of this is gonna go down," Merle scoffs lightly. "I'm sorry, but it ain't."

"I—? I don't get it. Why not?"

Don't he wanna be with me and Dad?

"Think about what yer Dad said just now." He straightens, his metal blade clanking as he lays his arms on the table. "Things are better this way. We got running water here. Plumbing. Electricity. Hell, girly, I can even get'chu some of them Disney movies you like."

"I don't—"

"What was it again? Fox and the somethin'? Fox and the Hound? I can trade Patty for it. We can watch it tonight."

Swallowing the stale glob of Twinkie in my mouth, feeling it slide down my throat like tacky glue, I leave the last bite on the table.

"I don't know, Merle," I guiltily shrug. After a long, uncomfortable silence, I ask, "Can I have some water?"

He relents, sighing. "Sure, baby. Hang tight."

As he stands up to go back into the kitchen, I forget all about his promises of snacks and movies, thinking of my group back at the prison instead. They don't got no Twinkies, or TV, or my favorite movies, or even electricity, but I would still rather be there than here. There's gotta be some way I can convince Merle to leave this place with us. He must love us more than he loves his apartment.

I begin to wonder when we are actually leaving. They can't make us stay here, can they? This is just a visit?

Dad and Glenn are gonna get questioned for killing that man, Eric, and then Merle will vouch for us?

Either way, everybody must be worried about us. If not now, then definitely in a few hours from now when they realize we ain't came back. That trip never takes more than an hour. They'll wait for us, and then they'll wait just little longer, and then Rick will grab his gun and come looking, but he'll find nothing but mine, Dad, and Glenn's weapons laying next to a body in the abandoned parking lot.

We only drove for about ten minutes to get to this town. We never ran into it, but it can't be so hard to miss.

I really hope we ain't stuck here long enough for it to come to that. I just wanna go home.

BLIP.

The sound of a walkie chiming makes me jump.

Putting the cup down next to the sink, Merle groans to himself and digs into his backpack. "Shit."

"What is it?"

"It's gonna be Mendoza," He complains, before he presses the button down and there's a voice the other end. "Hear that?"

I shake my head. "I can't hear so well, now."

He pulls a face at me. "How ya mean?"

Instead of explaining myself, I just push my hair back from my ear, revealing my hearing aid before smoothing it back down.

"You got a hearin' aid?"

"I got two. Without 'em, I basically can't hear nothin', and with 'em, it's kinda hard to hear fuzzy things, or faraway things, but it's mostly like it was before," I say timidly. "Shane accidently shot my ear off last Fall. Messed me up good and proper."

"Shane," Merle sneers, laughing to himself. "Shane Walsh. I'll kill that motherfuc—"

"Dad already did."

"Oh," He chirps, sounding pleased. "Well, that works out, then, doesn't it? How?

"Beat him and kicked him 'til he ain't never got up again."

"Good to hear yer Daddy's still got his balls intact. What, so you know sign language and shit now?"

"Sure. So, what'd the radio say?"

With a sound of annoyance, he grabs his keys from his backpack and shoves them in his pocket. "I gotta go help out with sum', and I wanna see yer Dad down at the blocks soon, anyway, do some catchin' up. I'll prolly see you in a few hours."

I perk up. "Can I co—"

"No, ya can't come," He deadpans, opening the door. "I'mma lock this behind me. Don't open it for nobody."

"O-okay," I nod, obedient.

"Help yourself to anythin' you want, princess. See ya later."

The door slams shut, the lock clicking loudly — SNAP — before his footsteps retreat down the corridor.

Letting out a breath, I slump against the table.

Old times. 

Lucky me.

Merle's got a big collection of movies.

While the fiery colours of a cool gunfight flash over me, voices shouting war cries, I flip the cover of a different CD over in my hands. I figure I gotta keep myself occupied while Merle's gone, and he did say I could help myself to anything I want.

"Tom and Jerry," I read aloud to myself, smiling at the cartoon animals and shrugging.

The movie cuts out when I press the eject button, and the disc comes sliding out. I take it, replacing it with the new one.

A colourful menu pops up on the screen. Aw, cute!

I find myself grinning up at it like a monkey who's discovered electricity for the first time, pressing play on the remote and absentmindedly watching as the episode plays out in front of me. I'm surprised I even remember how a TV works. It feels like I've snuck outta my bedroom in the middle of the night, snacking on ice cream straight outta the tub while everyone else sleeps. I feel naughty.

I wish I could share this with the rest of the group, especially Carl. Ain't none of us watched TV in forever.

Jerry the mouse is slapping Tom the cat in the face with a banana peel when there's a knock on the door.

Flinching, I turn around.

I wait a moment, watching the door, making sure I really heard it. If it was Merle, he'd probably just open—

"Hello?"

Shit.

That's not Merle.

I press the eject button, and the silly noises and bright colours cut out.

"I don't think you should've done that," The man behind the door muses in the silence that follows, his voice calm, amused, like he's talking to somebody he knows, but I don't recognise the sound of it. "See, now I know you're in there. It was a bad move."

I really wish I had my knife or my gun on me.

Who the Hell is that? Wh— Who would want to talk to me?

"Now I think it would make sense if you would come and open the door for me. No point in hiding, Harley."

I can't help it — A sharp gasp leaves me.

"Yes, that's right. I know your name," He laughs, sounding almost fond, as I slowly rise from my position on the rug and creep over to the door, pressing my ear against the wood to hear him better. "My name is Philip, but people call me the Governor."

Phil. Merle mentioned that name at the gates.

A friend of his?

"Your Uncle Merle probably told you not to open the door for strangers, but we're not strangers any more, are we?"

How do I make him go away?

"I know your name," He muses boredly. "You know mine. If you want, I'll even tell you my favourite colour. It's green."

I don't give a shit what his favourite colour is.

Maybe if I just keep quiet, he'll think the TV is broken, or that he made a mistake — There ain't no little girl named Harley in here. Because there's no way in Hell I'm opening this door for anybody, even if I know their name and their favorite colour.

My heartbeat hammer, hammer, hammers against the door. Please go away. Please.

After a long pause, I hear him laugh to himself again. "You're not going to open the door, are you?"

No, I ain't.

"Smart girl."

Suddenly, I hear the sound of keys jingling.

My blood runs cold.

I jump back as the doorknob rattles in front of my face, watching it turn, gasping as the door opens. He had keys the whole time?

The man lets himself in and closes the door behind him like he owns the place, like I ain't just gave him a very clear message I don't want him in here, walking past me and coming to a stop in the middle of the room with his hands in the pockets of his grey slacks, smiling quaintly at me. He looks like an office worker, a harmless one, his clothes ironed and clean, hair damp and combed to the side.

I stare at the stranger — because that's what he is — horrified, violated, wanting to jump out the window. 

"Who are you?" I frown with my chest puffed out, trying my best to sound confident.

"Well, I just told you," He jokes, nonchalant. "My name is Philip."

"You ain't supposed to be in here, Philip," I warn him. "My Uncle, he's gonna kill you."

"Oh, I doubt that very much," The man chuckles to himself, like I've just made a very funny joke. "Mind if I sit, honey?"

I do, but that don't seem to matter.

He rounds the sofa and carefully dusts the crumbs off the cushions before taking a seat, gesturing for me to do the same.

"Come on," He beckons nicely. "Sit where you like. Don't be scared."

"I really don't think—"

His face hardens. "Don't be rude, either."

Shit, this is bad. What the Hell do I do?

I glance at the front door. I could make a run for it, but it might be better to pretend everything's okay. I don't wanna make him mad, and I definitely don't wanna get lost out there, so I shuffle my way over to the lounge area and sit on the rug again.

When my eyes dart to the baseball bat laying next to him, his smile returns. I think he likes that I'm scared.

"I'm going to confess something," He decides.

Too afraid to speak, I keep my mouth shut.

"Before I came here, I'd planned to promise you I would take you back to wherever your group is. Get you to tell me where they were that way," He explains, lacing his fingers in his lap as if he's in a business meeting. "But I realize you wouldn't fall for that."

He's right. I wouldn't.

I guess that's why he's here. He wants to know where my group is. "You ain't here 'cause you're mad about Eric?"

"Did you kill him?"

I shake my head.

"Then, no," He simply says. "I hope you're good at keeping secrets, because between you and me — I never liked him."

"Well, I sure as Hell ain't tellin' you nothin'," I say bravely, thinking of baby Judith. "I ain't even told my own Uncle."

"I know that." He continues smiling at me in a way that makes me wonder if his face is stuck like that permanently. "I could also tell you that the only reason I'm asking is to help your people out, share our resources. But you wouldn't fall for that, either."

Where is he going with this?

"So," He says patiently, "It turns out I'm not going to do either of those things. Do you know what I do here?"

"You're the president," I guess.

"That's cute." His smile lifts into a smirk for a moment, before he shakes his head. "No. I'm Woodbury's leader. 'Governor', remember? Everything I do is in my people's interests, just like I'm sure your Dad does everything in yours. When I start hearing that there's a new group around, I think of what that might mean for us. Have you ever had something like that happen? A new threat?"

"There were people who wanted our farm," I hesitate to admit. "And no, that ain't where we're livin' now."

"I didn't think so. What did you do about it?"

"We hung one of their guys in a barn. He was our friend, but... Sometimes, you gotta kill yer friends."

Philip is still smiling at me, but his eyes are all empty, like they're not really his. I've seen those eyes on dead people.

"I'm glad we have an understanding," He nods slowly. "In the past, I've had to kill my friends, too."

"Good for you."

For the first time since he opened that door, his smile completely drops. "You know who else I'm prepared to kill?"

My heart beat starts to hammer, hammer, hammer against my ribs again.

"Your Daddy," He says with that expressionless look on his face. He don't look so much like an office worker no more. He's a killer in fancy britches, with the blood freshly washed off his forearms. He's a wolf and I'm the little piggy, and I made a mistake when I didn't run away. My fingers tighten around my knees, the sweat hot and slippery on my skin. "If you don't tell me where your group is, I will cut your Daddy's throat open and make my apologies to the unlucky fool who has to clean up all the blood he leaves behind."

I can't speak. I can't. The words are congealed somewhere at the back of my throat, making it very hard to swallow.

"I wouldn't even have to kill the other one," He smirks a little. "I'm sure that gunshot will do it for me. Sepsis is nasty stuff."

Dad and Glenn. Oh, God, I knew it. We didn't question Jim when he was our prisoner, so why would they question them?

Of course Dad didn't want me there with them. They're in danger. They're in danger, and I'm up here in this apartment, eating snacks and watching cartoons and that's all I'll be doing when they cut their throats open or hang them from the ceiling.

"Oh, ple— Please don't," I huff, grabbing my belly so I don't throw up on Merle's rug. "Please don't."

Lifting his hands up, the man makes a gesture of peace, his smirk widening before he drops them in his lap. "Oh, I won't. I haven't exhausted all my options, yet, honey. It wouldn't be wise to kill your Dad right now. This is just something to think about."

I hug myself tighter as he stands from the sofa.

"For when I come back," He adds, staring down his nose at me, cowering at his feet in a ball.

I don't have it in me to glare at him.

All I want is to go home with Dad and Glenn and Mouse and never step foot in another paradise again.

Smiling that stupid, empty smile of his, Philip steps past me and crouches down next to the TV, picking up the Tom and Jerry cover. He chuckles to himself at the picture on it, before putting it back down and pressing the disc back into the player.

On the screen, Jerry starts hitting Tom with the banana peel again, but it's not so funny any more.

"Enjoy your cartoons, honey," He says oddly sincerely.

I watch him stand back up and make his way to the door, not sparing me a backwards glance as he closes it behind him. A grating burst of laughter comes from the TV, and before I can stop myself, I cry out — "Ugh, shut up!" — and punch it hard.

The disc slides back out, silently landing on the rug.

"I wanna go home," I whine to nobody.

Author's Note.

This chapter took a while to come out, but I hope the wait was worth it!

I can't believe I finally get to write Merle! Harley is very glad to see him again, even if she knows he isn't perfect. Meanwhile, Daryl isn't too pleased. Things have definitely changed.

Writing the Governor was SO fun. He's very creepy. Whenever there's I have a character who's really smart or has a way of dictating a conversation, it's always humbling when I remember that means I have to be those things in order to write them lmao. I hope I'm doing him justice.

Also hope you enjoyed the chapter! See you in the next one!

@poetoflawed

[gnougnouss]

Ya know I feel like there's a shit ton of hyprocrisy going on when people compare RTD's writing and Moffat's on dw but nothing irks me more than when they say Moffat era made the doctor too important when he was portrayed as just a guy in RTD. Like. Are you fucking kidding me. Be for real.

In the GODDAMN first episode, one of the first thing we learn about the doctor is through Clive (rip) in that scene :

The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster comes, he's there. He brings the storm in his wake and he has one constant companion. ROSE: Who's that? CLIVE: Death.

So yeah the Doctor is a Legend. Next, in New Earth he is called "the lonely God". Very normal guy core.

It gets worse, who could forget this wonderful speech in The Family of Blood ?

LATIMER: Because it was waiting. And because I was so scared of the Doctor. JOAN: Why? LATIMER: Because I've seen him. He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun. DOCTOR: Stop it. LATIMER: He's ancient and forever. He burns at the centre of time and he can see the turn of the universe. DOCTOR: Stop it! I said stop it. LATIMER: And he's wonderful.

The Next one is by Steven Moffat but crucially still during 10s era so STILL part of how the doctor was characterised. RTD approved you might say.

DOCTOR: Don't play games with me. You just killed someone I liked. That is not a safe place to stand. I'm the Doctor, and you're in the biggest library in the universe. Look me up. (There is a pause, then the shadows withdraw.) ANITA: You have one day.

I added it because I saw people act as if the Eleventh Hour's resolution with a doctor boast was completly out of character and not something he literaly did one series before.

Ok now for the real silly, that scene in Last of the Time Lords where the power of PRAYER turned 10 young and hyper powerful. For real. Yeah like a sort of Space Jesus.

Bonus: that part in Voyage of the Damned when he flied with two angels lifting him like ok lmao.

Those were just the ones I could remember out of the top of my head but "just a guy" my entire fucking ass. Go rewatch that show.

I feel like Moffat is often accused of turning the doctor into too much of an incredibly powerful figure not because he did it more than RTD but because he discussed the trope and as such put a lot of attention on it . All of those I pointed out in RTD are played incredibly straight but in Moffat's era the doctor's legend is a problem. It's the plot of the s5 finale, he became so big his ennemies allied. It's the reason he gets called out in "A good man goes to war"

RIVER: This was exactly you. All this. All of it. You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. Doctor. The word for healer and wise man throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word come to mean? To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word Doctor means mighty warrior. How far you've come. And now they've taken a child, the child of your best friends, and they're going to turn her into a weapon just to bring you down. And all this, my love, in fear of you.

It continues in Asylum of the Daleks where Moffat tries to erase the doctor's legend and is concluded somewhat in s8 finale with the proposition that what the doctor actually is, is in fact an idiot.

DOCTOR: I really didn't know. I wasn't sure. You lose sight sometimes. Thank you! I am not a good man! I am not a bad man. I am not a hero. And I'm definitely not a president. And no, I'm not an officer. Do you know what I am? I am an idiot, with a box and a screwdriver. Just passing through, helping out, learning. I don't need an army. I never have, because I've got them. Always them. Because love, it's not an emotion. Love is a promise.

But nobody saying stuff like "Moffat made the doctor too important" ever watched Capaldi's era anyway so it's not like they would know.

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Hello.... Can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from Merlin BBC? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Thanks if you want to answer....

Hi, you’re welcome to ask anything:)

My top five characters (in no particular order) are Lancelot, Gwen, Arthur, Merlin, and Morgana

Lancelot because he was just an all around great guy from the start without sacrificing character development. He’s probably my favourite character in the show for that. The way he prioritised friendship and Gwen’s happiness over a romantic relationship, the way he cared about his friends was just something I really loved seeing in his character. Also how respectful he was of magic even when he was scared, he didn’t draw his sword at Kilgharrah and he was so nice to the river spirits too. Just the best knight (in my opinion)

Gwen because she was such a compassionate person, she was never afraid to call Arthur out when he needed it, she and Merlin would’ve been better friends through all the seasons if the writers didn’t forget to carry that on, she was also a brilliant Queen and it was so obvious how much she loved her friends.

Arthur because he was overcoming trauma, worked to be a good king for his people, he was always kind to his citizens and cared for their wellbeing. Also his friendship with Merlin, and his trust in him. He was stubborn and it definitely took him time to learn from his mistakes with thinking he was above people, but he’s always cared about his people. In episode 2, he believed a servant accusing a knight of sorcery, he disobeyed his father to get Merlin a cure in episode 4, I could go on.

I’m trying not to ramble too much. The show’s been my special interest for a while, I could go on for hours /lh

Merlin because he’s so nuanced as a character and doing character analysis for him is always fun. The contrast between choosing magic and Arthur throughout the show, surviving and dealing with the trauma of believing he’s a monster unless he’s serving Arthur and giving his whole life to Arthur. (Kilgharrah is awful, but that’s a whole other rant)

And Morgana because she’s also really fun to think about and analyse. The show really did us dirty in not showing anything for why she became evil while staying with Morgause. But in season 1 she was brave and kind and always stood up for what she believed in, which was her main character trait throughout even while she was evil, she stood up for what she believed. She was absolutely manipulated and groomed by Morgause to some extent, which is why she lost the kindness (the writers did her dirty) but it’s so interesting to think about the nuances and moments where her older character breaks through.

As for top five moments, (there’s more than just five but narrowing it down as much as I can)

Season 1 episode 4 when Merlin realises Morgana and Gwen are coming to help him, also when he’s talking to his mother. But this whole episode is amazing.

Season 1 episode 13 when Merlin says goodbye to Arthur before going to sacrifice his life

Season 2 episode 2 for the Arwen date in Gwen’s house

Season 2 episode 13 when Balinor and Merlin are talking over the fire

Season 3 episode 11 because it’s one of the only times where Merlin genuinely helps a sorcerer over Arthur (except Freya because she was a love interest and Daegal because he wasn’t actually a Druid)

And finally because this is getting long,

Season 4 episode 1/2 for the deleted scene where Merlin and Lancelot are talking in the hut

(I have more but I’m already over five)

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

(1) (2)

"Is that a dragon? That's a dragon! It's a dragon! You're a dragon!"

Hiccup and Toothless share a look. When facing a thousand pound, flying, fire-breathing lizard, people tend to back away at best, and at worst, they start swinging - axes, clubs, fists. In general, there's a lot of panic, sometimes screaming, involved. Hiccup was prepared for that, not whatever Jack's doing.

Clearly, if their guest was healthier - more capable of moving without risk of death, he would be running around like a madman. But, thankfully for Hiccup's sanity, Jack can barely stand, staying on his feet through sheer stubborn will.

But he laughs freely and loudly as a smile lights up his whole face. Hiccup could almost - almost - forget the corpse-like tinge of Jack's skin, the sunken shadows on his cheeks, or the bruise-like marks beneath his eyes.

"Uh yeah... So... Meet Toothless... He's a dragon, alright." Hiccup frowns. "What? Have you never seen a dragon before?"

"Of course not!" Jack replies, not taking his eyes off Toothless. "Dragons don't exist where I'm from. We only have stories, you know, myths and legends." He turns to Hiccup. "You're the weird one here."

"Me?"

"Yeah! You see dragons everyday and you're just so boring about it."

"Gee, thanks."

"Oh not like that! I was just - I don't know. I'm over here losing my mind and you're just standing there, looking at me funny."

Hiccup tries to imagine a life where dragons had not been part of his existence since day one. He nearly gets a headache for his efforts. A life - a world without dragons? What? There's no way. That's just impossible.

"Aaaand now you just look constipated."

Hiccup rolls his eyes. "So what do you have over in the New World?"

"Horses? Bears? Sheep? Beavers?"

"What's a beaver?"

"It's kinda like a giant rat - big front teeth and a wide flat tail. They build their houses on rivers. You can make good money from their fur."

"Huh."

"Right? Totally not as cool as dragons."

"You know, most people would be afraid of dragons. You're over here acting like Snoggletog came early."

"What's Snoggletog?"

"What's - Okay, this is too much. You're breaking my brain over here."

Jack cackles, which quickly turns into hacking coughs that shake his whole body.

Hiccup frowns. "I think that's enough excitement for one day."

"What? No! We just got started! I'm literally four steps from the front door!" Jack wheezes out, gesturing at the hut sitting right at his back.

It's only been two days since Jack woke up and introduced himself. This was not nearly enough time for a full recovery, according to Gothi. But after a couple hours of sitting around, watching water boil, the guy was literally climbing up the walls. Once, Hiccup had to catch him because Jack almost fell out the window. All things considered, that was probably an escape attempt... Or maybe Jack had really intense cabin fever. If Hiccup had to spend two whole days with only Gothi for company, he would also throw himself out the window.

Since Jack was driving himself crazy (which drove Gothi crazy), Hiccup took pity on him (on them both), and offered to show him around Berk. Of course, that meant Jack would get to see all the dragons roaming around. There was a good chance that Jack would keel over at the sight of so many dragons in one place. So, not taking any risks, Hiccup figured that a quiet, one on one introduction would help their guest get... used to the way they do things around here.

Given the way Jack got so excited from meeting Toothless, Hiccup can pat himself on the back for a job well done. He can also smack himself for not thinking about the whole "Jack can barely move" problem. How's the guy supposed to see Berk if he can't even walk ten steps without collapsing? Didn't think about that, did ya Hiccup?

Hiccup and Toothless share another look. If dragons could shrug, Toothless would have done so at that exact moment. He also would have said something like, "Hey, this guy's your problem." Lazy lizard.

Sighing, Hiccup runs a hand through his hair, thinking over his options. Maybe if he...

"If we strap you to the saddle, we can show you Berk from the sky."

Jack's eyes nearly pop out of his skull. "The sky? What? You're gonna let me ride Toothless? We're gonna fly?!"

Hearing him say so, Hiccup begins to question his idea. The face that Toothless makes doesn't help. But Jack is vibrating with excitement now, his grin curling from ear to ear. Hiccup doesn't have the heart to deny him.

"Yeaaa... But just a short flight... If you die on my watch, Gothi can and will curse me."

"Fair. But I'm not gonna die." Jack rolls his eyes.

Hiccup snorts. "Well, I suppose there's really only one way to find out."

It takes some work. Hiccup asked Gothi for some spare leather, which he quickly wove into a rudimentary belt. Then he handed Jack some of his extra flight gear (kept on hand in case something breaks midair), and walked him through adjusting it for his size. Jack was vaguely annoyed, almost sulking, when he had to tighten the straps several notches. Hiccup made things worse by grinning at the size difference. After a lifetime of being the village toothpick, it's sooo nice to be bigger than someone for once.

Finally, it was the moment of truth. Hiccup was fairly confident that Toothless would allow Jack a seat on his back. But as they say, "it's never wise to count your fish before coming to shore".

With Jack watching closely, Hiccup steps forward, holding out his hand. "Just let him come to you."

Taking his cue, Toothless bumps his snout against Hiccup's palm, exactly the way he did all those years ago.

"See?" Hiccup glances at Jack as he gently pets Toothless. "As long as you're careful and slow..."

Jack meets his gaze and nods slowly. He copies Hiccup, lifting a hand up and letting it hang in the air. Unlike when Hiccup first tried this, Jack doesn't look away. Toothless stares right back. For what feels like forever, neither make a move and Hiccup starts to think that they'll never move again. Then Toothless decides to break their little staring contest, but he doesn't press his snout to Jack's hand. No, this weirdo of a lizard decides to lick Jack's palm. Their equally weird guest outright cackles with glee. Toothless appears very pleased with himself.

Hiccup shakes his head, clapping his hands. "Alright, alright. We're all good buddies now, great! Let's not waste anymore daylight."

Jack whoops and scrambles over to the saddle. After some awkward wiggling and squirming, it becomes pretty clear that Jack has never sat on a saddle in his whole life. Toothless keeps trying to look behind him, wondering what this strange new human was doing on his back.

"Need some help?" Hiccup asks, stifling a smile.

"Nah! I'm good!" Jack says cheerfully, with his booted feet planted on the saddle, and nowhere near the stirrups.

Hiccup crosses his arms. "I'm sorry to say that you've got it all wrong."

Jack takes in his crouched position. "What? No! Can't be!"

There's even odds that this guy is just messing with him. But Hiccup finds himself laughing along. It was just a bit of harmless fun.

"Right well, your feet are supposed to go here. Let me-" Hiccup reaches over to take hold of Jack's ankle.

He didn't mean anything by it. He was just going to place Jack's foot into the stirrup. But as soon as Hiccup's fingers brush against Jack's ankle, the guy flinches hard and launches himself off the saddle. Toothless lets out a loud squawk, echoed by Hiccup, as they watch Jack tumble down - head first - towards the ground.

Luckily, Toothless is not very tall so falling off his back won't cause permanent damage. But it would still hurt. From the hard thump followed by a breathless groan, it sure sounds like it hurts.

"Jack!" Hiccup hurries over.

"I'm fine! I'm fine! Just a little..." Jack waves a hand. "You... I wasn't expecting the..."

The poor guy looks shaken, breathing heavily and trembling all over. All that from one tiny touch? Hiccup frowns.

"Sorry, I didn't - I was - I should have warned you."

"No, no, no! You're good!" Jack folds his brow, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. "It really wasn't a big deal."

"Coulda fooled me..." Hiccup murmurs under his breath. "Can you - Are you hurt?"

"Just my dignity, but who needs that, right?" Jack pushes himself up and dusts himself off.

Hiccup snorts. "I wouldn't know. I never had that myself."

Jack grins, already looking a lot steadier. Sure, he's breathing a little funny, but he's less twitchy - less ready to run. Before Hiccup could say anything more, Jack's already back by Toothless, swinging himself onto the saddle, no more messing around. But the stirrups still give him trouble and after a few failed tries, he lets out a frustrated grunt and kicks off his boots.

"There! Much better!"

Hiccup blinks. "Huh? Did those not fit?"

"Nope, those fit fine. I just don't like boots."

"Do you not wear boots in the New World?"

"Can we just go already? The sun's gonna set!"

"We're not going anywhere until you put the boots back on. It's even colder up in the air. You could get frostbite!"

Jack snorts. "Please! I'm not even cold right now! And we're only gonna be up there for what? Five minutes? Ten? I'm not gonna lose my toes after ten minutes of windchill!"

Hiccup clenches his jaw before breathing out a heavy sigh. He's spent a lifetime with hardheaded people. He knows a lost argument when he sees one. "Fine, fine. What's a few toes in the grand scheme of things?"

"That's the spirit!"

Hiccup gives Toothless a tired look. Toothless has the audacity to laugh at him. Thanks, bud. Real supportive. Grabbing hold of the saddle, Hiccup hops on as easy as one, two, three. He settles himself behind Jack, and again, the contact causes Jack to flinch. The reaction is more muted this time, undoubtedly due to the guy's admirable restraint. Yet Hiccup can pick out the way Jack draws his shoulders up, his arms pressing tight against his torso, and his hands holding onto the harness with a white-knuckled grip. Every part of him is wound up tighter than a trebuchet about to fire.

"We good?" Hiccup asks.

"Yeah," Jack squeaks out.

Taking pity on the guy, Hiccup ignores the way Jack sounded like mouse just then. "Alright, let's get you strapped in."

Somehow, Jack tenses even more but he doesn't complain as Hiccup winds the belt around them both. Then Hiccup leans forward, pressing his front to Jack's back, as he grabs onto the harness. Close together like this, Hiccup could feel Jack's ribs stretch and shrink - faster and shorter with every breath.

"Everything ok-"

"Just. Fly."

Thor save Hiccup from stupidly stubborn guys. He wasn't kidding about Gothi cursing him.

"Alright. You heard the man, Toothless."

Letting out a warbling growl, the Night Fury stretches out his wings and with a click from Hiccup's prosthetic, they leap into the air.

Jack stops breathing entirely. He stops for a single, sticky second - long enough for Hiccup to start panicking. But then Toothless levels out, prompting Hiccup to adjust his tail, and just like that, they were flying.

And Jack... Jack laughs - a noisy, clumsy, heavy sound as if he needs his whole body to laugh. Hiccup has never heard anything more joyous. Toothless must share his opinion because the dragon lets out an echoing roar before barrel-rolling across the air. Jack's laughter transforms into a throaty shriek as he lets go of the harness, opening his arms wide like he's trying to embrace the sky itself.

Hiccup thanks every god he can name that he had the foresight to strap this guy onto the saddle. Jack would have slid right off from that stunt.

"Are you crazy?!" Hiccup yells, tugging hard on the harness. "Toothless, quit it! Jack, put your hands back down!"

Toothless gets the message because he straightens out neatly. Hiccup knows that the dragon is rolling his eyes. Just for that, he is sooo not getting fresh chicken tonight.

Jack breathes out a throaty chuckle before placing his hands right back on the harness. "Man, that was fun. You get to do that every day?"

It's hard to believe this was the same scared-stiff guy from earlier. From his position, Hiccup can't quite see Jack's face but he could see a world of difference in the looseness of Jack's limbs and the soft curve of his back. Somehow, Jack seems more at ease, more at peace in mid-air than he ever did on the ground.

"Yeah... I'm pretty sure Toothless would bite my head off if I didn't take him flying at least once a day. Twice if we have time."

"Wow..."

Toothless takes them up higher and further out into the ocean until the whole island could be seen. Then, as if greeting them personally, a strong Northern wind whistles by, parting the clouds and letting the sun shine a spotlight onto the busy, messy, crazy village below. From this height, Hiccup could see the sturdy perches placed by each home, the forever full feeding stations, and the comfy, customized stables. He could watch a cacophony of colored scales wing around the vikings as they went about their day - fishing, fighting, and even frolicking when they thought no one was looking.

"Oh," Jack whispers - soft and gentle and weightless with wonder.

Hiccup allows himself to smile proudly. No one could say that they had it easy these last few years, but they made it here somehow - a long way from where they started.

"Welcome to Berk."

[somethingclevermahogony]

OC Questionaire

I'm gonna respond to a couple people on this post so this is gonna be a bit of a big one! First, @mk-writes-stuff

What would you go back and do differently if you could redo one event in your life?

Narul: "I wouldn't have stopped to pick those flowers, I would have gotten back to the others before..."

Ninma: "I would have told Jani to stay, I would have told him that we didn't need the wine."

Otilia: "I would have left Korithia ages ago, I wouldn't have lived with that horrible man, I would run away."

Akard: "I would've stopped the Makurians. I would've kept them away from the children."

What’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever worn?

Narul: "Um, this I suppose." He gestures to the great shaggy sheepskin drapped on his shoulders, stained and matted from years of use.

Ninma: "My mother gave me a green shawl, it was the color of throw up, the weaver who made that should be thrown into the river."

Otilia: "Ugh that white...sheet, that Wadikir made us wear."

Akard: "Ugly? Hmm, when I was a boy I was told to wear a Kishite style robe, so that the Apunians would not forget my heritage. But the palace seamstresses did not know how to make it properly, so it was baggy and one sleeve was longer than the other."

How do you feel about children?

Narul: He glances at Ninma and chuckles, "Their a bit loud sometimes, maybe a little more energetic then I would like, but...I don't mind them I suppose."

Ninma: The five year old crosses her arms and sniffs regally, "They're stupid and immature, and they don't know anything about good food or poetry."

Otilia: "They're alright. I will say that I'm not terribly saddened by the fact that the gods have decided that I can't have any of my own."

Akard: At the mention of the world children he grimaces and turns away, "They are precious. The person who would do them harm...is owed no forgiveness."

And next up is @illarian-rambling

What's your favorite legend and why?

Narul: "Oh! I like the legend of the giant, Huma. I don't hear it all that often, most people don't like it because there isn't any fighting or monsters in it. Huma was a giant, like me, he was big and strong but he never used that to hurt people. There are so many stories about him. Once to protect the people of Shipra from bandits he built an entire wall for the city by himself in one night. When the fields of Shepra were dry he dug an entire river to irrigate their crops. Once when a merchant ship was stuck in a storm off the coast of Kotsa he used a sling and a rope of leather to catch the storm spirit and held it until it agreed to let the merchants get back to their homes. I know that most of the stories aren't true, but I like imagining someone that looks like me that doesn't hurt people and that people aren't afraid of."

Ninma: "Seha and the Golden Trout! Seha was so cool, and she fights monsters and forestfolks, she talked to the ancient Kiriki. She's just so cool, I think she's even cooler than Tamel was, it's easy to do impressive things when you're a demigod, Seha was just a princess from Makur."

Bazus: " The story of Tamel and the demon. When Tamel and his followers landed on the shores of Kishetal, they were attacked by a great demon, before they could escape he broke their ships and consumed three dozen people. Tamel fought the beast with his bow, and the arrows just bounced off, he fought it with his fists but he could not break the fiend's bones, and so finally he took up the hammer he had been given as a gift, a hammer of Arkodian Bronze, and that is what he used to slay the demon. And that's where they made the city of Udur, the first Kishite city. That hammer was the symbol of Royal power in Kishetal, until it went missing with Tamel's son. I wonder where it went.

Zenit: "Hmm...there's a story in Shabala, don't laugh, it's about a crow spirit that falls in love with a dove spirit. And their children became the spirits of the wind, the warm southern winds are from their mother, the cold northern winds are from their mother. It's not exciting or anything, no monsters, I just think its nice."

How do you celebrate your birthday?

Narul: "Um...I don't really know when my birthday is. I don't know if I've really ever celebrated it. Getting older...and bigger wasn't really something that I wanted to celebrate when I was younger."

Ninma: "Oh! For my fifth birthday my father would threw a big feast with fish and peaches and roast lamb, and we had a singer and dancers, and he gave me a new dress and new perfume, and all sorts of new things. And there was forestfolk with feathers like a peacock, I felt bad that he was in that cage but he was so pretty!"

Bazus: "My father throws a feast and invites all of the various nobles of Labisa. And we go on a hunt, usually for boar, auroch, or something like that. We did hunt for lions on my fifteenth birthday, no luck."

Zenit: "I don't really remember. Hutbari doesn't celebrate his slave's birthdays. "

What's something you'd regret if you died without doing?

Narul: He blushes and coughs, "Um..."

Ninma: " Hmmm...I want to be famous for a song or something like that! I want people to know who I am!"

Bazus: "Seeing my children grow up to be greater than me."

Zenit: " Putting my feet in the sea again..."

tagging @elsie-writes , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @abalonetea , @roach-pizza

Your questions are:

What is your favorite beverage for a warm summer afternoon?

What is something that keeps you up at night?

If you could switch lives with any one you know who would it be and why?

[bluemidnightmelody]

lover/fighter - my favorite moments

[Little snippets from my Finnick/OC longfic that are stuck in my head]

From Chapter 51 - Rules, and those who break them

Neither Rhea nor Finnick have the slightest idea what time it actually is as they walk along the sandy path back to the Victors' Village at some point in the night. Or Finnick walks, Rhea alternates between ambling and staggering slightly, with the only driving force that really moves her forward being Finnick, who keeps pulling or pushing her in the right direction.

The uneven sandy ground repeatedly causes her to stumble. Her clinging to Finnick prevents her from falling, but this time she almost loses the paper crown that someone has made for her out of an old newspaper. Finnick holds on to her while Rhea rescues the symbol of her dominion and pulls it back onto her head.

Since they've been out the door, she can't stop giggling. It's partly Finnick's fault, because her laughter makes him laugh and when he laughs, she does too. It's a never-ending cycle because of which she slowly but surely begins to feel her stomach muscles tighten.

Somehow, they make it to his house, even though they may have woken up half the village in the process, because trying to suppress the laughter only makes it worse. On the stairs, her coordination fails completely and after kneeling on the steps twice and losing her crown for good this time, Finnick has to carry her up somehow.

But despite the image she presents, Rhea's mind is surprisingly clear, or at least it seems that way to her. She can't say exactly how much she's had to drink or how drunk she really is by now, but her thoughts are more organized than ever. Most likely because the whole mess of things that seem completely unimportant right now has simply disappeared from her mind. What's left looks like a single painting hanging in an otherwise completely empty gallery and if you can just concentrate on it, every contour, every contrast suddenly seems much sharper.

"Do you think that anyone would notice if I just didn't go back?"

Since her thoughts can only run in one direction, it is just as easy for her mouth to follow. For once, she doesn't care that such a question would actually be completely unnecessary, as the answer should realistically be quite clear.

"Well, someone would for sure," Finnick chuckles somewhere beside her ear as he tries to maneuver their combined weight up the stairs without an accident.

"But do you think I could get away with it?" she asks, wrapping her arms around his shoulders so she can turn and look at him.

"That depends. But you'd also have to stay somewhere," Finnick indicates.

Rhea gives him a slightly sulky look. "Would you seriously kick me out?"

"I didn't say that," Finnick laughs and has to stop for a moment to not lose his balance. "But I'm afraid they wouldn't forget about me at the Capitol and then what do we do the next time the District 4 escort, the stylist team, the TV people or worse, Donna turns up here?" he continues.

This gets Rhea thinking. She hadn't really considered these disruptive factors. "Then I'll just have to hide in the attic or under the bed until they're gone," she suggests.

Finnick finally makes it to the top of the stairs and allows himself to imagine how he occasionally slides dinner under the bed for her. He chuckles heartily as he gently pulls her through the hallway to her room. "But surely there would be enough people who would want you back if you were gone. Linus, Elaine, ... Oliver probably. Don't you think someone would find you sooner or later?" he replies as they stop next to the door.

The sudden standstill causes her more difficulty than the walking before, so Rhea is relieved that he doesn't let her go and continues to support her. And her thoughts become even clearer. Like the waters of a mountain river, they flow on and on, in a single growing stream and begin to rush down the valley at breakneck speed.

"Linus would only look for me if I wanted to be found, because he's a mind reader and knows what's going on inside me long before I do," she replies, suddenly completely composed and surprisingly matter-of-fact for such a hypothetical scenario.

"Elaine would probably like to set off on her own and travel all over Panem if necessary, but they wouldn't even let her get outside the city walls," she continues, and now Finnick notices it too, this change from pure reverie to seriousness. He can only stare at her spellbound and wonder how much of it is the influence of the alcohol, or whether this really is her.

"And Oliver ... Oliver might even be in a position where he theoretically has the means to circumvent the rules. But he wouldn't do it. He would look for me, at home in the Capitol, but he wouldn't break any laws to do it elsewhere." Her look is thoughtful but there's not the slightest bit of uncertainty in what she's saying.

'Then he's an idiot.' That's what Finnick would like to say at first, but he bites his tongue. "Are you sure about that?" he mutters instead.

"I'm quite sure. Oliver is someone who always follows the rules. He comes across as laid-back and bold, but in fact he always follows the instructions and regulations to the letter. No wonder he became a lawyer," she says with a breathy laugh. Her smile fades until it is only just recognizable and changes to thoughtfulness. "That was actually always something I really liked about him."

Her voice, her facial expressions, her presence, simply everything now seems as if she is stone cold sober. And Finnick wishes she really meant everything she said, because he also wants to hear the things she hasn't said yet and believe that she'll say them all again tomorrow in the light of day. "Sounds like there's a 'but' to come," he replies, but underneath is a question about the end of her reasoning, which hangs in the air with a noticeable hint.

Rhea realizes that he is right, but since when has there been a 'but'? Wasn't she exactly the same before? She has always needed clear structures and rules, because the chaos and uncertainty it brings with it have frightened her, but when she looks at it closely, she has always distinguished between those guidelines she needs to lead an orderly life and those that stand in the way of her order. The one thing that has perhaps always bothered her about Oliver, but which she has never been able to define so clearly, is his lack of ability to go completely against the tide. He can distinguish between right and wrong better than most others in the Capitol, but not between law and justice. He goes in the right direction but never all the way, forever stuck in a state of compromise without taking a clear position. He can sometimes bend the rules for work but never anything more than that.

She feels like a stupid child just beginning to understand the world. It's true, she really wasn't any different, because if she had been, she would have realized much earlier that chaos isn't something to be afraid of. It actually represents much more how things should be, because let's face it, there's nothing natural about perfect order. It is always forced and tries desperately to suppress something that should be free.

Right now, she feels free, she is free. Free from worry, free from doubt, free from everything and everyone, free just to be. And this freedom stems solely from chaos, his chaos.

The silence, which in reality only lasts a few seconds, seems like a small eternity, long enough for her to almost completely lose the thread of the conversation while she drowns in his eyes. They are truly beautiful, not only because of their unique color, but because you can see so much in them if you look closely enough.

"But what if the rules are just wrong and you don't have the courage to break them?"

It's hard to say how her answer came about, because her mind didn't formulate it. But wherever it comes from, she has to agree with herself. She no longer needs rules to function. The fact that she is standing here, everything that has happened that has led her here, the fact that she has never been as alive as she is now alone proves that she can now stand upright without these self-imposed shackles. No, she doesn't need all that anymore, and more importantly she doesn't want it anymore. She doesn't want to go back.

What she wants is this. All of this and more. Whatever that means exactly. With him. She realizes how she is slipping back into her carousel of thoughts, searching for what she should do now. Should she just tell him about everything exactly like this?

'Don't think about it, don't talk about it, if it feels important, just do it!'

Finnick doesn't notice her inner monologue. Instead, he is busy trying to remind himself to breathe, because a surprising flood of emotionality overwhelms him, so that even his vital basic functions are apparently on the verge of collapse. It's like the opposite of a panic attack, even the symptoms are a bit similar except that it's not scary in an oppressive way, it's downright addictive.

The first time he tries to say something back, his voice fails, and his mouth is as dry as if he had been wandering through the desert for weeks. He asks himself whether it wouldn't be better to end this, whatever it is that's happening, quickly instead of continuing to torture himself with daydreams of a lush oasis that he can already see before his eyes but will never be able to touch.

"Be careful with such thoughts, otherwise people might think you're rebelling against the system," he breathes back with the smallest of laughs. It is an idea that both worries and flatters him. But first and foremost, it would be futile. Only a fool starts a war he can't win, and for what prospect?

He is on the verge of sending her to bed after a long evening by pointing out that both of their reasoning abilities are exhausted. He doesn't even get a chance to take a breath, his somewhat downcast gaze preventing any timely reaction as Kip's wisdom shows its effect on Rhea.

Because the experienced sailor was right. Had she thought about it, started talking about it, or more likely kept thinking about how to talk about it, she would have done so forever and ever, trapped in questions about things she'll never get an answer to without first breaking out of that very circle.

Fuck the rules.

And without any hesitation, she takes hold of his face and kisses him.

It's nothing more than a gentle press on the lips. Exactly the same way Finnick had kissed her, in Daphne's mountain villa. In fact, perhaps that was the beginning of everything spiraling out of control.

This time it's Finnick who stands transfixed and just as he regains his senses, the surreal moment is over all too soon. As she begins to pull away, he draws in the breath that he wasn't granted a moment ago, and then he follows, because it's not enough.

Just a moment later, she finds herself trapped between the hallway wall behind her back and Finnick's tall form as he completely takes her breath away. This time it's nothing like the innocent touch before. In fact, it's the third time she's found herself in a situation with his lips pressed against hers. The first time he barely dared to touch her, the second time it was out of pure desperation to give her back her breath and now he is taking back every last bit of the loan.

Basically, he has no idea what he's doing. He hardly knows anything apart from how good this girl is and because she is so good, he feels that way too. She makes the terrible time in the Capitol more bearable and the good time in District 4 so much better. And he longs to be just like that too. He wants to be that for her, he wants to be good for her. He wants to hide away in the attic together with her, with the small hope that maybe no one will ever find them there.

He doesn't know much more than that, but he does know how to kiss. He's never learned to like it, but he knows exactly how to set the pace, which paths his hands should take, when he can allow himself a gentle nip of his teeth. She doesn't know. It doesn't matter, or rather it's what he likes most at the moment. He likes it when she clings to him in search of guidance, not out of dominance, but because he likes being needed by her.

Not the slightest thought or comparison to his previous companions crosses his mind, because this is different, because there is no agreement, no demands that he has to fulfill, no price that he would have to perform for. He enjoys every little affection she gives him and from the very beginning, she gives it to him for free. Even while he's been acting like an idiot, without ever asking for anything in return, without expectations, just like that.

Even now that she is lost far beyond her abilities and left in his care, every little thing rewards him more than it takes for him to care for her. It spurs him on further and further to give everything he has in order to live up to her. Because he wants everything, all the affection she has to give, and wants to give everything of himself back so that there is nothing left for others to grab for.

No one has ever felt so tender in his arms while he got one wrapped around her waist. His other hand is buried in her blonde hair, curly and wild because of the rain, truly mesmerizing. She herself seems overwhelmed with what to put where so she leaves everything as it is, arms half wrapped around his neck, and just lets him lead.

One hand finds its way to play with the short hair at the base of his neck making him purr. He returns the favor with a cheeky little nip at her lower lip and the little whimper it earns him makes it even better. He lets out the smallest of breathy laughs before seeking her lips again, touching foreheads, touching heartbeats, hardly separable anymore.

She tastes sweet, so sweet that he could go on forever, devouring her whole. Delicate and rich like summer, and that is what brings him back to his senses a little. He recognizes the taste of the liqueur specialty from his home district on her lips, and no matter if it was her who kissed him first, and no matter how much he wants this, he still can't say for sure if she'd be able to really tell him no if she wanted to, because they've both been drinking.

He can't bring himself to regret a single second, but he doesn't want to let it get to the point where he has to. He breaks away from her, just enough to look into her glassy eyes as she gazes up at him, completely dazed and breathless and beautiful, as if he were the only thing she had ever laid eyes on.

It's too hard when he looks at her, so he sheepishly has to avert his eyes to get anything out. "Okay, let's get you to bed," he mumbles, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, though it's really just an excuse to caress her cheek. She feels hot, as if she's been lying in the sun all day, very different from this afternoon when they were standing on the beach in the rain.

It takes an enormous amount of overcoming to end this moment without any certainty that he will ever get another one. Somehow, he manages to get her into bed, even though Rhea seems to have lost all ability to move on her own. Except for how to hold on, because she's not particularly fond of the idea of releasing her grip. He has to hold her in bed with the comforter while he says goodnight.

And gone are the valleys, the trees, the stones, the raging river. It has buried everything beneath it until only the mountain peaks remain, as small islands in a mighty ocean, so that you can just stand and marvel at the overwhelming superiority of this force of nature.

When his own bedroom door is closed and he lets himself fall back against it, Finnick realizes just how out of control he just was. Never has something so dangerous been so tempting for him and he realizes that this has just been a point of no return. Right now, it's completely obvious and he didn't accidentally tiptoe over the line, no he sprinted over it.

He's absolutely and utterly fucked.

It seems that he neither succeeded in stopping her nor himself from doing something stupid this evening.

Links to all the chapters: lover/fighter - Chapter Index

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