#if any of you read my story in the future and see similarities to House then you’ll know why lol

[novafire-is-thinking]

I haven’t seen anything about how similar Prowl and House are…

…so now you’re all gonna hear about it from me >:)

Prowl is to House as Ratchet is to Dr. McCoy.

House is the king of committing medical malpractice in the name of personal interest and the good of his patients.

Prowl is the king of committing war crimes in the name of the good of Cybertron and personal interest*.

*There is a whole post I want to write about this later.

^ There were very few significant differences I could think of.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve laughed while watching House M.D. because I was reminded of Prowl. I love both of them so much. lol

Prowl fans: If you want to know what Prowl would be like as a doctor, check out House M.D.

House fans: If you want to know what House would be like as a giant alien robot strategist, look no further than Prowl.

Some quotes by House that could have also been said by Prowl:

“If nobody hates you, you’re doing something wrong.”

“It’s nothing personal. I don’t like anybody.”

“I take risks; sometimes patients die. But not taking risks causes more patients to die, so I guess my biggest problem is I've been cursed with the ability to do the math.”

The last one is especially Prowl.

[silvershiningtarot]

💵💸PAC: mood board- Successful Life In The Future (Career Reading)💵💵

Disclaimer: I got these ideas from

my clients and I'll tag your names in it. Remember this about your career in the future. Your successful life. @thementalshawty @miraclekay97 Thank you for the ideas. Anyway, here is your Moodboard about it.

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Pile 1: In your successful life wow I noticed that you'll be very successful. Whatever career you decide to do, it will become successful. I am seeing a lot of people admiring you. I won't lie you'll be like a diva type but in a good way. I don't sense any bad for Pile 1. I feel that toward your career I do see in mid-end you'll have a boyfriend or you'll be dating one of your successful partners or someone who will help you with your career. Or I have a sense that your husband is in the industry already you'll be meeting them there. I feel like a love story here. But you'll become very successful. I do see you in a star hotel 🏨. I do see you taking selfies everywhere you go. Driving around with your fancy cars haha 😂 I heard “Mercedes” I think you gonna buy your first car a Mercedes. Nice. You'll be enjoying your successful life. I see you are very happy. Just dancing for a glorious moment. You just have a smile on your face. I don't see your partner involved in your life. That doesn't mean you two break up but I am getting a sense that they'll be supporting you but they have their own business to run. Oh yeah, I see you guys when you two are in private that's when you guys are together. But when you two are in public this is your partner! No romantic stuff. I sense that you'll be very serious with your business. I heard “family business.” So I think you might make a family business for your family or with your company. That's what I'm feeling. But I do see you being with someone in your career. I don't see your partner helping with your career, for example, I see them being your cheerleader. I do feel that you'll be very successful when you meet your husband. Your husband will be part of your success. You'll make it big as hell. I see that you'll be having your own jet plane. Everything you'll own. Yes! You will be buying expensive clothes, shoes, etc. I feel that you'll be buying your first penthouse, condo, apartment, or your first mansion house. But I don't sense a mansion house, I think you gonna wait on that but I do see that you buying your first penthouse. If some of y’all don't know what a penthouse looks like. Google it. But you'll become a very successful woman/man & they/them. I can see it happening for you in the future. Oh yeah, you'll be traveling around the world. I see you going on a cruise, eating fresh fruits, and just living your best life. Good luck to you guys and your careers!!!!!!

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Pile 2: this Pile is a bit similar to Pile 1 but I am sensing more of someone involved in your career. I heard “Not alone.” so you are not alone in your successful life. I am seeing someone helping with your career. Then you two will be romantically involved. But I heard “slow burn.” so this one will be very slow 🐌. But I am seeing someone helping you with your career. They'll invest in it. But I have a feeling that you don't want to be bothered by your partner's investment. Maybe, someone did something to you. Or you are just guarded. I've kept hearing “It takes time.” Maybe, you not trying to be like these other girls in these industries. Who gets their career started and then gets into a relationship I understand that. But it is your destiny that your partner was meant to help you in your career. I feel that you two will become very successful together. Both of you will boost each other’s careers. I see it happening. You'll be happy that your partner invests in you because they believe in you. I see you are on your first jet plane and just dancing and smiling. I do see you throwing money in the air 💨 and just dancing. Yes!!! It is going to feel like a holiday for you. I'm hearing that song by Donna Summer Feel Love ❤️. You are going to feel the fuck out of yourself with your success. I feel that everyone will admire you, and adore you. But I heard “worship you.” You'll celebrate with your partner. I think you are going to kiss your partner on the jet plane because you'll be grateful for their help. I have a vision about it right now. Wow! Again, good luck to you and your career. Whatever career you decide to do your partner will help you. I know this isn't romantic but for this pile it is romantic. Heavily!!

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Pile 3: Oh yes, you are going to have the success you want but I am sensing lonely vibes. The reason why I said that is because you would want to someone share it. I feel that you've been pushing other people away and you are going to be one way. I feel that you are going to share it with your best friend. Like going shopping, having brunch together, and doing fun activities together. But when you go back home you want someone to cuddle with you at night and just lay down with you. That's what I'm feeling. I sense you are going to be constantly working too hard. I sense dominant women/men, they/them. You guys are going to be working. It is like yes, you'll have the success you want but you won't feel fully complete with yourself. Yes, you have the money, business, etc but remember what I said you'll feel lonely. You're a boss woman. It isn't wrong to being a workaholic but you'll be into your job. I mean heavily. You need to balance between work and your personal life. I have a sense that your best friend will get you out of your comfort zone. Let you go on dates, movies, or even go on dating apps. Then the second you put yourself out there Bam!! You found someone. I feel that you'll be gone after you start dating 💏. I feel that your partner likes to hike on expensive planes. So maybe, you'll buy your partner a plane. I don't sense your partner will be grabbing on your career. I have a sense that you two will boost each other’s careers as well. Hahaha, I feel that you will be very happy when this person comes into your life. You will be fucking happy because you sharing your success with them. So you'll be going to expensive hotels and planes. I do see you traveling a lot on your plane. Your partner will bring you a boutique of flowers 🌹 you'll love it. Haha 😂 I see that this partner will feel like the one for you. They make you blush. But OH MY GOD! You are going to be so fucking successful. Mad money, and fame. I feel that you'll own so many companies! Even I heard “Disney company.” so you'll be on Disney lol 😆 GO FOR IT!! You are going to have a beautiful successful life but in the beginning, you'll be feeling lonely it will get better 🌟. Good luck to your dreams and a successful life!!!

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[queenimmadolla]

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ─ 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 '𝟖𝟔

(young parents!eddie munson x reader)

more dad!eddie and pennyverse entries can be found on my masterlist

summary: After taking a pregnancy home test for funsies, you find out that you’re actually pregnant. The scariest part isn’t even the completely unexpected pregnancy, it’s telling Eddie.

warnings: use of an 80s pregnancy test, pregnancy (obvs), mention of periods, not much else.

a/n: based on this request and also based in the pennyverse (see masterlist). i usually always use up my friends’ extra pregnancy tests when they take them, so I’ve developed an irrational fear of this happening to me after writing it out lol. and i still can’t use the keep reading tab bc tumblr eats sections of my fics that i try to use it on so sorry about that and sorry about the formatting, tumblr also refuses to post this if I remove so much as a space. enjoy! let me know what you think (don’t be a dick)! 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were sat inside of the tub—void of any water—and had been for the past hour and a half. It was anything but comfortable. You weren’t paying attention to the ache in your back though, too focused on the vial you held between you fingers, rolling it between your middle and thumb finger while you were careful to avoid spilling the liquid it contained.

How you hadn’t thrown it out of your bedroom window yet, you had no clue. After all, it did kind of betray you. Nancy had a scare with Jonathan about two days prior and you’d gone with her to the pharmacy to pick up a couple of tests, held her hand as she panicked about how she couldn’t put off school to raise a baby but the liquid in her vial remained clear, and so did the next one she tried. While she’d been significantly relieved at the negative results, she couldn’t risk her mom finding the tests so you’d taken the remainder of them (she’d purchased six in total, talk about overdoing it) with the intentions of throwing them out. Then your stupid curiosity got the best of you. You blamed it on how interesting the actual test looked. While you had hated chemistry class, messing with actual liquids, chemicals, vials, and bunsen burners during the labs had greatly amused you.

The pregnancy test looked much too similar to a couple of those components, so you couldn’t resist. You’d peed in the tray, mixed it in with the clear liquid you’d poured into the provided vial, waited a couple of minutes for everything to combine and settle in there, then you placed a drop of the solution into the mixture. The result was unfortunately instant. You’d been fully expecting the same result as Nancy while you prepared the test but to your complete and utter surprise, the liquid in your vial turned a dark shade of blue. And so did the next one, and the one after that, and the last one. You were glad you’d chosen to do this at your parents’ house, you hadn’t wanted Eddie to get the wrong idea and your parents’ still had a room for you but you were interested in the ensuite bathroom connected to it—or else Eddie would have stumbled upon you passed out in the trailer.

You’d settled into the bathtub when it felt like your legs were going to give in as reality shifted around you. What the FUCK? You hadn’t even missed your periods! Sure, they never really came on time but that was because they’d always been irregular ever since Aunt Flo’s first visit! They’d been pretty light and brief, but that still had to count for something right? You groaned as you sunk further down in the tub, recalling all the times you and Eddie had neglected to use protection. You’d been on the pill since before you two even got together (that’s a different story, though) and sure, he occasionally wore a condom but that accounted for only about 15% of the times you had sex. The rest of the times, you’d simply put your faith in your little blue pill. How ironic was it that your birth control was the same color as the positive pregnancy result? Maybe you could laugh about it in the future, but for now, you were panicking about what to do next. You’d only been out of school for about five months, having graduated alongside the majority of your friends and your now-husband in June, and you hadn’t enrolled in a college because—well, you had no idea what you wanted to study or even if you wanted to study anything, so you’d chosen a job instead, which meant school wouldn’t be a problem for you. But telling your husband would be. You’d gotten married the same night of graduation, moved in (officially) with him and Wayne about a week later and you’d been in the honeymoon phase since. Wayne had started sleeping over a couple of trailer’s down at Maude Maple’s—you couldn’t blame him, Eddie wasn’t exactly quiet when you fucked—she was conveniently all alone after her son went away for college in the early fall and had taken quite the liking to her faithful neighbor who never failed to come to her rescue when some appliance of her’s ‘broke down’, meaning you and Eddie had the whole trailer to yourself the majority of the time. That’s probably how you ended up in this situation.

You’d have to tell Eddie. You shot up in the tub, gripping the side with your freehand as a wave of nausea turned in your stomach and you were pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with pregnancy symptoms. What would he do? What would he say? Would he leave you? Did he even want a baby right now? Of course not, he had ambitions and a baby would halt those! Yes, you talked about having kids before, but it was always future plans. This was happening right now.  

You stood up, climbing out of the tub before you capped the vial. You hid it in one of the pockets lining your bag before you quickly got rid of the rest of the evidence, flushing other positive tests and loading your purse with all the trash to discard in a bin somewhere far from your parents’ house and the trailer, where no one could tie it back to you. Wait a minute, you thought as you clutched your bag to your chest. Pregnancy tests give false positives all the time! Maybe I just got a bad batch. Yeah, that’s it! I’ll just go to my doctor, and have this all blown over. You hadn’t experienced any symptoms (that couldn’t be blamed on PMS) and you didn’t feel any different, so could you really be pregnant? —

You were pregnant. 

Not only had your doctor confirmed it, but she’d also informed you that you were about 22 weeks along. Even if you had wanted to get an abortion (which you hadn’t really considered seeing as how you had no idea you were pregnant until that morning), you wouldn’t be able to unless you had a serious medical condition. You’d tried to somehow argue your way out of her diagnosis, or whatever it was, by pointing out that your stomach was still normal, no major change to it as in no abnormally protruding baby bump but she’d informed you that your baby was most likely just nestled in there and, while it was rare, sometimes people didn’t show until late in their pregnancy. Then she’d weighed you and you were indeed a couple of pounds over, compared to what you could remember weighing last. And your periods? She chalked that up to hormone changes after she asked if you’d been experiencing any extreme changes in mood and you’d been able to recall the random bouts of frustration, irritation, sudden sadness, and yeah, that made sense. She’d said it’d most likely stop once you started relaxing. 

If that hadn’t been proof enough for you, the figure on your sonogram was, along with the heartbeat you’d heard during the brief ultrasound. That had to have been the scariest part; you’d been expecting to see a tiny little blob—your fetus at an early stage—but your fetus was far enough developed to resemble a freaking baby and you just couldn’t wrap your head around actually being pregnant, a baby was inside of you at that very moment. Thinking about it made your brain produce no thoughts, just white noise. 

You didn’t go home to Eddie that night, choosing to return back to your parents’ where you faked coming down with something and your mother insisted—like you knew she would—that you stay the night. You took dinner in your room, had your mom tell Eddie you weren’t feeling good and were sleeping it off—not a total lie—when he inevitably called. It was pretty shitty of you but you didn’t know what else to do and hiding out at your childhood home was your only way of avoiding your husband.

You hadn’t been able to sleep. Not with what you now knew. Almost hesitantly, you unbuttoned the shirt of your ridiculous, Winnie the Pooh pajamas and rested your palm just below your belly button, trying to feel any movement from the baby growing there.

While you couldn’t feel anything on the outside, your mind wandered to last week, when you’d been laying on your tummy and felt an odd sensation that you attributed to a silent stomach rumble—though it didn’t feel much like your stomach—, your body just letting you know you were hungry. It had happened a couple more times—all of which you’d been stomach down—and now you were sure it had been the baby inside of you, maybe protesting about being squished. You certainly wouldn’t be sleeping on your stomach anymore, now that you were aware of the new resident in your womb.  

It didn’t even surprise you that you were starting to think of ways to go about making sure your baby was okay in there; while you were scared shitless as most unexpected first time moms-to-be are, there was part of you that wanted to know more about that little human growing inside of you. Would they look more like Eddie or more like you? Would they have his pretty, baby cow eyes or would they have yours? And what about the hair, would it be more like yours or more like his messy curls? Then you warmed, because you had a part of him literally inside of you; you were carrying his baby. While the news of your pregnancy had been daunting to say the least, you were finding that you didn’t completely fear the idea of it. No, what you feared was Eddie’s reaction. 

You were thinking of ways you could somehow avoid him, though you knew you wouldn’t be able to for long. You weren’t showing yet but you would be, probably sooner rather than later. If, for some reason, he didn’t notice—someone else would and word would get back to him.

Frustrated with your predicament, you grabbed one of your throw pillows from next to you and held it over your face to muffle your screams. The sound of knuckles rapping against your window interrupted you and you froze, blood running cold. There was only one person it could be, and it was the very person you didn’t want to actively see at the moment. 

You were positive he could see you, though, and you didn’t want him to think you were trying to smother yourself to death so you reluctantly set the pillow back in it’s place at your side and got up to confront your fears, if not for you then for the little one inside you. Eddie was grinning as you approached your window, pulling it open before stepping back so he could climb in. 

“Hey, Thumper,” he greeted as he righted himself, stretching his arms up after he’d kicked off his shoes and shrugged his jacket off. Once he was standing at full height, he leaned back against the window frame, pretty doe eyes taking you in from head to toe, “How you feelin’? You okay, baby?”

“I’m all right, Bambi,” you lied, willing your body to relax. “My head hurts, that’s all.”

Eddie eyed you skeptically before he closed the distance between you two, hands moving up to cradle your face as he leaned in for a kiss. Like butter, you melted; eyes fluttering shut as your body fully relaxed and your mind went all fuzzy. You’d been married for six months now and you were beginning to realize the effect he had on you would never go away. Unless he did. Your anxiety came rushing right back and you pulled away, breaking the kiss.

“What are you doing here?” You rushed to ask, taking note of the concern written on his face as he stared down at you. “I was worrying myself sick about you. I knew you weren’t feeling good, plus I can’t sleep without you, so if the mountain won’t come to Muhammad. . .” 

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, posture stiff and awkward as you stared back up at him with wide eyes. You hadn’t meant to say it, it kind of just came out on its own but now that it was out there, there was no taking it back.

You studied his face, your heartbeat pounding against your chest with the suspense as you watched his eyebrow quirk up, his pink lips parting slightly in surprise.

Eddie swallowed hard once, mouth continuing to open and close like he was a fish instead of a human, “I’m sorry—what?”

He opened the flood gates again, you couldn’t contain the word vomit, you just kept talking, “I’m pregnant. Like, I am really pregnant, man. I only literally just found out and I was thinking maybe the home tests were bad—all four of them—but they were not because I went to the doctor since I couldn’t believe it ‘cause I didn’t know I was pregnant but she said I was and then I saw it for myself and now I am actively aware of the baby inside me like some sort of chest hugger—except it’s in my womb and I’m gonna have to give birth and I am really freaking the fuck out because I don’t know what we’re gonna do since we didn’t exactly talk about having a baby right away and I know you had plans and this is kind of getting in the way of them and that’s what I didn’t want because I want you to do everything you love and I wanna be by your side while you do it and I’m not gonna lie, I actually wouldn’t mind having this baby since it’s me and you but I don’t want you to leave me over this—“ 

You were silenced when Eddie gently placed his palm over your mouth, effectively stopping your verbal onslaught and keeping you from working yourself into a panic attack. 

“Hey, hey—hey, you gotta calm down, honey. You’re upsetting yourself,” his hand slid from over your mouth to the back of your neck, rubbing at the tense muscles there. “Breathe for me, baby.”

You knew he was right, you were practically shaking in your fuzzy socks. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm your breathing while Eddie mumbled encouraging words, pressing kisses to your forehead until you’d managed to get somewhat of a hold on yourself. Eddie would hold the rest of you together, like he always did. You wrapped your arms around his middle, snuggling into his chest.

Eddie indulged you, soothing you with cuddles before he pulled back just enough to look at you, while he had managed to calm you down, you could still see the surprise in his dark gaze as he whispered, “You-You’re pregnant?” 

You feared your mouth would run free again, so you remained silent, nodding a couple of times as you nibbled on your lower lip, waiting for Eddie to lose it, to blow a gasket. Seeing you this upset pained Eddie. He could see the fear in your glossy eyes, the quiver in your plump lower lip as you stared up at him, waiting for his response. He tried not to take it personal, knew where your insecurities lied and how much you valued him over yourself. If there was one thing Eddie wished he could change, it’d be the way you saw yourself. He wished you could see yourself through his eyes; you were absolutely perfect to and for him. He couldn’t imagine life without you and he didn’t ever want to, so the notion that he would even consider leaving you was blasphemy. He wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t pregnant. Had this happened in high school or something, he might have freaked out a little but he still wouldn’t have ever considered leaving you. 

Now, it just seemed like the opportune time for this exact scenario. You were already married, so people couldn’t say Baby Munson was a bastard and kids came next after marriage, right? It didn’t matter when you two had them—to him, at least. He knew he’d be a good dad, he wouldn’t be anything like his. Not the bad parts of him. And Eddie knew you’d be an amazing mother, had seen you handle the kid part of your friend group plenty of times.

When he said your name, so tenderly, it made you want to cry, and a tear did slip down your cheek but Eddie was quick to halt it, wiping it away with his thumb, “Listen to me, ‘kay? I’m uh—I’m definitely a little shocked, but there isn’t even a small percentage of me that doesn’t want to have a mini you running around. And my plans? Baby, you are my plans. From the moment I hung out with you in the back of my van at that shitty party, I knew I needed you in my life. Now, you are my life. The only plans I have, are to live happily ever after—and all that gooey, sappy shit I’ll never publicly admit to loving—with you. Everything else that happens is filler stuff, okay? You—and you,” he reached a hand down to rest again the skin of your stomach, rings cool against your flesh, still exposed as your shirt had remained unbuttoned, “—are the only things that matter to me. I love you, and every extension of you—of us.”

You sniffled, nodding your head a couple of times again before he leant down and you met him halfway, lips pressing together in a messy kiss, wet with your tears and Eddie’s. You pulled away once you realized he was crying, too, but he rushed to wipe his tears away, bashful. “Shut up, I have the right to be a little emotional, okay? It’s just been confirmed to me that I’m gonna be a dad, that’s some pretty big, fucking good news.”

You leaned in to kiss a stray tear off his cheek, licking it off your lips as you peered up at him in curiosity, “Confirmed?”

Eddie laughed as you squinted up at him, pressing another kiss to your forehead, “You nearly bit Argyle’s head off when he brought that pizza to movie night last month, baby.” “He forgot the bell peppers after I called him multiple times to remind him!” “And when you were helping Will out with his art project, you kept crying because it made you emotional,” he added, recalling the way you were silently crying as you painted the area of the canvas Will had asked you to touch up. “It was a very moving scene he depicted!” “Not to mention how many times I’ve cum in you. Honestly, the only reason I’m surprised is because I kind of expected this to happen sooner.” 

You winced as his brazen words, normally they got the waterpark down there flowing but you could tell he was trying to get a reaction out of you, “Jesus, Eddie. Your breeding kink is showing.”

He winked, walking you backwards towards the bed, though it didn’t seem like his intentions were sexual, or at least not as sexual as he usually was when he fully intended on ravaging you. Once you fell back onto it, he clambered over you, hands moving either side of your night shirt away. He pressed a kiss to both of your breasts, mumbling a quick ‘my girls!’ before he focused his attention on the lower part of your stomach, suddenly fascinated at the sight of it. 

“So, there’s a baby in there?” He asked, index finger trailing circles over your soft skin, just above your pelvis and the hem of your pajama pants.

“Mhm,” you hummed, then you remembered the sonogram and threw him off of you to run to your purse. Eddie watched you in amusement, lounging on his side, as you dug around in it. Once you’d found both the vial and the sonogram, you returned to the bed, crawling next to him as you handed him both. “What’s this?” He asked, admiring the blue liquid in the sealed vial.

“Chemicals and stuff, I’m pretty sure, and my pee.” He didn’t miss a beat, “That’s really hot.”

“Shut up, it’s my pregnancy test,” suddenly, Eddie was cradling it in his palm like it was the most precious thing in the world, “and this is your kid.” 

You held the sonogram up and Eddie stared at it with wonderment, carefully setting the vial down on your old nightstand before he reached for the sonogram. You let him pluck it from your grasp, watching him in slight awe yourself, as he stared hard at it, easily able to make out the baby’s shape despite the lack of decent lighting. He trailed a finger over it gently, as if he was actually stroking his baby instead of outlining his baby’s form in the sonogram picture. When he looked back at you, his eyes were shining with the promise of more tears as he whispered, “This is our baby?” You nodded as your own eyes began to gloss over, choked up at how much Eddie seemed to love the little one growing inside of you already, “That’s our baby.”

“Holy shit,” He mumbled, gaze focused on the sonogram again before he seemed to come to some sort of realization and his head snapped back to you. “H-How far along are you?”

You pinched your bottom lip between your fingers, nervously as you answered, “Uhm, she said I’m about 22 weeks along now.”

You really loved Eddie’s eyes, so big, brown and pretty, but as big as they were, they could definitely get bigger. Like they were right then as he silently mouthed the latter half of your sentence before he found his voice again, “22 weeks? That’s—That’s five months!” You nodded in agreement, watching as he went through the same sort of emotions you had when the doctor had told you. “That only gives us like what—four months to prepare? Fuck, I have to baby proof so many things, and I have to build a crib, we’ve got to get carseats, what else do we need to raise a baby?”

“We can figure it out in the morning, I am ready to collapse,” you laughed as you took the sonogram from his hand and placed it on the nightstand near your pregnancy test before you pushed him back into the pillows, and unbuttoned his jeans. Eddie lifted his hips to allow you to tug them off and discard them at the end if your bed, then you curled into your place at his side, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you inhaled his scent; woodsy (curtesy of the cheap cologne he used), with the slight scent of marijuana but you were even more pleased when you didn’t smell any traces of cigarettes, he’d given them up two months ago. You cuddled for a few minutes, but the exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to you. Eddie’s hand stroked over your back, lulling you further to sleep. Before you could fully slip under though, he asked, “Did you happen to find out the sex?” “Mhm,” You mumbled, sleepily as you pressed a lazy kiss to his collar bone.

“You gonna share with the class?” You could hear the amusement in his voice and you smiled against his skin at the mere thought of the pretty grin he no doubt had on his face. Eddie loved to talk to you when you were on the cusps of sleep for some reason. Thought it was endearing. “‘M not in school,” you slurred, eyes fluttering shut completely. “How are you such a smartass even when you’re half asleep?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You chuckled along with him, snuggling further into him. He thought you’d finally fallen asleep after you didn’t answer him, but he was rewarded five minutes later when you mumbled out, “’S a girl.”

A girl. He was gonna be a dad to a little girl. Eddie closed his eyes and he could practically envision her, a little miniature version of you; with your cute nose and your pretty features. Would she have your eyes or his? Would her hair be as unruly as his or more like yours? Maybe if he put a headset over your tummy and played some cool tunes, she’d come out with an appreciation for Metallica. He’d thought four months was pretty soon, earlier, but now it seemed like a century away, he was already eager to meet her. Soon, he mused, a hand moving to rest over your stomach.

Soon.

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 1

Summary: Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family, and Chris happens to be her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, neighbour included. Though in my case, mine is very cute and very hot. And handsome. The most handsome man I have ever seen. And his name is Rúben.

Author's note: This story has been finished and waiting in my drafts since 2022. I wrote it as a new and different version of "The Nanny Diaries" (my story with Ben Chilwell) because I didn't like it, and then I ended not liking this one either 🙈 But time passed, I read it again recently, thought it was cute… And here we are, having now both of them posted when they weren't supposed to 😅 I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

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Masterlist

Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family with a spoiled kid and Chris is her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, but let's start from the beginning.

My entire life was designed to achieve one goal: become the best piano player in the country. Or in the continent if my father got too excited. And since I can remember, I've been glued to one.

While my friends were going out to the park, I was going to my teacher's house to practice. While my friends were meeting to go shopping or watch a movie at the cinema, I was practicing. While my friends were going out clubbing and meeting boys and girls, I was going early to bed because I had practice in the morning. And while my friends were choosing a career path they liked and enjoyed and moving to different cities all around the country, I only had one option: playing the piano and moving to Manchester, where the best teacher lived. 

The weather sucks, yes. But it isn't such an ugly city as they say, and all the people I met were lovely and very welcoming. Unless you are fighting with them for a spot on the next recital or to get the next scholarship. That's when things get nasty, and that's how you end up with broken fingers and the dreams your parents had for you shattered. Because becoming the best piano player of my generation wasn't my dream, it was theirs. Or my father’s to be precise.

So when Anastasia Hamilton pushed me down the stairs and I found myself with two broken fingers on my left hand, a sprained ankle and my body covered in bruises, I didn't complain. Well, that's a lie. I complained and cried because it hurt like hell. But I didn't complain when they told me I wouldn't be able to play the piano like I used to due to one of my fingers not healing properly despite being treated by the best doctors. I didn't complain because I was finally free. If I wanted to play, I would be doing it because I wanted to, not because it was my job, because I had to, because my future depended on it. Now I was free to finally follow my dreams and not my parents’. Or that's what I thought.

I told them I wanted to take a gap year to figure out what to do with my life, but they said no. They had decided that I should study to become a music teacher, to help others achieve what I hadn't been able to. We argued, they said that if I wanted to do anything different it would not be with their money, I said ok, and I found myself alone in Manchester with barely any money or a place to live.

And that's when I crossed paths with Julia. 

I had gone to the shopping centre to see if anyone was looking for a waitress or someone to fold t-shirts in a shop, when I saw her crying in the middle of one of the corridors, most people walking past her and ignoring her. 

"Hey, are you ok?" I said, kneeling in front of her. "Where are your parents?"

"Quiero a mi mamá" she sobbed. That was why people were ignoring her. She only spoke Spanish and they didn't understand her. But, lucky me, I used to go to the north of Spain for music summer camp and I can speak it fluently. 

"¿Dónde está tu mamá?" Where is your mum? 

"No lo sé. Estaba comprando una taza fea y..." Her mum was buying an ugly mug. I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Ok, let’s go find her.” Where we were most shops only sold clothes, but I remembered I had just walked past a Zara Home. Maybe she was there? "Come" I said, grabbing her hand. She didn't say a word and just followed me, her sobs turning into hiccups. 

"Julia!" a woman screamed the moment we turned the corner. "Oh, Julia, I thought I had lost you!" 

"Mami!" the kid said, letting go of my hand and throwing herself at the woman. "Me perdí y esta chica me ayudó."

"Did you help her?" the woman asked me.

"I saw her crying and that people were ignoring her, and I decided to check on her. She was speaking Spanish and I think that's why most people were walking past her, because they weren't able to understand her."

"Oh, she always does that when she gets upset. Do you speak Spanish?"

"Yup."

"Oh, you are an angel" the woman said, hugging her daughter a bit tighter. "I don't know how I'm gonna be able to thank you."

"Knowing that she's alright is enough, don’t worry."

"No, no, no. You must allow me to do something for you. What do you say, Julia. Should we invite this wonderful angel to have lunch with us?"

"Yes!" Julia said, her English coming back. "We'll bake you a chocolate cake! Do you like chocolate cake?"

"I actually do, yes" I smiled.

"Then it's settled. Let me give you my card, it has my office phone number on it" Julia's mum said, opening her bag. "Call tomorrow morning and we'll schedule that lunch together."

"Ok. Thank you."

"Thank you" the woman said, giving me a hug. "My name us Lucía, by the way. But you can call me Lucy like everyone in this country does."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy."

Lucía, Lucy. A Spanish lawyer specialized in divorces, and the divorces of very wealthy people. Which meant that when I arrived at her house for that lunch date, I found myself before one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the city. 

"Are you coming in, miss?" the doorman asked.

"Yes, hi, sorry. Do I have to tell you where I'm going or..."

"You don't look like a thief" the man chuckled.

"I'm not, I promise. I'm meeting with Lucy and Julia."

"Oh, yes. Miss Julia said a friend was coming for lunch today. An angel."

"That must be me" I said, blushing a bit.

"Then welcome, miss" the man said, opening the building's door. "Do you know their floor number?"

"Yes, the 7th. Letter B."

"That’s the one. Call for the lift and push the number, their house will be the one to your right."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"My pleasure, miss" the man said with a smile. Roger. The loveliest man you'll ever meet.

"So glad you could make it" Lucy said after opening the door, giving me a hug. 

"Angel!" Julia screamed, coming to also hug me. "You came!"

"Of course I did."

"She’s decided to start calling you angel because of what I said at the shopping centre. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry" I smiled.

“Come, let me show you my room" Julia said, grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her.

After a tour around the house and its many rooms, we were back in the living room, one where the small flat I was renting thanks to some money my grandparents had been sending me without my parents knowing, could perfectly fit.

"Is that a real piano?" I asked Julia.

"It's daddy's" she said. "We used to play together."

"That's lovely." My dad never played with me just for fun. It always was about practice, practice... And oh, yes, more practice.

"Do you play?" Lucy asked me.

"Since I was Julia's age."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Why don't you play something for us while we wait for our food?"

"Sure" I said, sitting in front of the huge black piano. It was a very expensive one like everything else on that building.

"Daddy used to play that!" Julia said when she recognized the song. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad... Mami, why are you crying?" she asked her when we finished.

"Because it was beautiful, sweetheart. And you play so well" Lucy told me. "Have you ever thought about giving lessons?"

"Not really..."

"Julia started to take them a few months ago, but her teacher... Had other things to do, so now she doesn't have one. Would you like to take her place?"

"Me?" 

"Yes, angel! Be my teacher!" Julia said, clapping her hands and jumping.

That was what my parents had wanted me to do. To become a teacher. I wasn't going to be doing it at the music school, but this still was teaching, right? And I liked Lucy and Julia a lot despite only knowing them for just a few hours. 

"I'll do it" I said. "I'll be Julia's teacher."

"Oh, perfect!" Lucy smiled. "When can you start?"

"Whenever you want. I have nothing else to do" I shrugged.

"Then tomorrow. I have to work, so maybe you could pick up Julia from school, bring her here and start your lessons? I'll pay you for that extra time."

"Ok" I nodded.

I had found a job, one that I liked, and one that was going to pay me handsomely judging by the numbers Lucy had mentioned while doing a draft of my contract. 

I was so busy thinking about all that, checking the details she had given me about Julia's school, that I hadn’t noticed the lift had made it to the lobby and the doors were open. 

“Are you going up again?” a male voice said.

“Uh?” I replied, lifting my eyes from my phone. And what did they see? The most handsome man you could ever imagine.

“Are you going up again?” he repeated.

“I…” I had forgotten how to speak. I may have not been wearing an ugly costume like Scarlett in one of the scenes where she met Chris Evans, but I had my jaw on the floor and definitely was making a fool of myself. “No” I finally managed to say.

“So… are you leaving, then?” he asked, trying to hide a smile.

“Yes” I said, still looking at him. Was he real? He was real. When he stopped the lift’s door from closing again, taking a step forward towards me, I saw that he was very real. “Thank you. Sorry. I’m leaving” I blurted out, my brain finally remembering how speaking worked. Kind of.

“It’s ok” he replied with a smile. No, not a smile. A smirk. One that made everything inside me turn upside down. “Bye” he said, walking inside the lift and letting go of the doors, disappearing behind them while I just stared. He must have thought I was stupid. A creep. Or both. But what else are you supposed to do when you find yourself face to face with the hottest man in planet earth?

“Miss, are you alright?” I heard Roger say from the door.

“Yes, yes. Just… Processing what just happened. That I got a job, I mean” I quickly added, noticing how he was arching an eyebrow, his eyes moving to the lift. 

“Oh, those are great news, miss. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I guess you’ll be seeing more of me from now on.”

And hopefully, I would be seeing more of him too. Of the hot neighbour, my own Chris Evans. Though later on I would find out that his name wasn’t Chris, that would have been too much of a coincidence.

His name was Rúben. 

[villainofmyownstory]

Zultanite

Part I - Gravity

AO3

pairing: Poly 141 x plus size fem!reader

summary: After inheriting jewelry from your dearest grandmother and one visit to a fortune teller. Your life is changing. Not once, not twice… but four times.

tags: Polyamory × Poly 141 × Strangers to Lovers × Stranger Sex × Polyamorous Task Force 141 (Call of Duty) × Smut × Oral Sex × Eventual Romance

a/n: Today I heard the song Gravity by Ralph, which inspired me to write this story. Each part will feature a different member of TF141.

Parts of the song lyrics are in italics.

Let me know what you think, I'm still learning how to write smut.

English is not my first language, so probably many things are poorly described and the vocabulary is very simple. If you see any mistakes - let me know!

✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠🌟✨🔮🌠

Part I - Gravity

Kyle ”Gaz” Garrick

You are sitting in a small, narrow corridor, surrounded by many strange objects. Your heart is beating fast. You feel uneasy. The walls are colorful, trinkets, colorful lamps and curtains hang from the ceilings.

There is a sweet, heavy but pleasant scent in the air.

You only came here because your friend got an unusual gift from someone for her birthday. A rather peculiar one. A visit to a fortune teller.

You don't believe in such things, you are a rather down-to-earth woman. No fairies, princesses, wizards, unicorns or magical powers of objects. Pure science. Logic.

But you'll do anything for your friends.

You are snapped out of these ponderings by a voice from the side. Your girlfriend's more impatient and curious about the whole aura around the place.

“Thursday: cinnamon, musk, sage.... Interesting, maybe we should come another day. Oh! For example, on Sundays the smell of lemon. Do you know what it's good for?”

You didn't even have time to open your mouth to answer that of course you don't know what lemon is good for. For... a cold?

“Welcome, fairy Avery is expecting another visitor.”

You get up, but the person standing by the door tells you to wait. One person may be in the room with the fairy so as not to disturb her aura.

Or something else.

You sit back in your chair and look around the room out of boredom, since there isn't even a signal on your phone here. Finally, you glance at the flyer your friend was looking at a moment ago. Without delving into it, you simply flip through it quickly.

'Frankincense not only smells beautiful, but also has magical powers. Some intensify love, others intuition, there are also those that protect against evil powers...

Numerological matching ...

Venus Prophecy ...

If you want to know what fate has prepared for you and check what awaits you in the near future ... ask the magic ball ...

Tarot Celtic Cross

Amulets and talismans ...'

“That's interesting...”

You whisper under your breath as you see a photo of a confusingly similar stone. The kind you just had around your neck.

You had inherited the necklace from your grandmother, as well as to the pair, earrings and a ring. But in accordance with your grandmother's request, you wore the necklace every day since the day you received it.

Since yesterday being precise. Only yesterday someone from the family in your grandmother's long-abandoned house, found the lost box. With a letter and things for you.

When your friend with a smile on her lips comes out of the fortune teller's room, you want to get out of this place as soon as possible. You did not come here for any divination, tarot, palm reading.

However, the voice again invites another person, and apart from the two of you, there is no one in the hallway.

Slightly pushed by the girl you go into the room.

“I've been waiting a long time for you”.

When the door slams behind you the room falls into semi-darkness. The only sources of light are candles arranged in places.

You approach the most illuminated spot, a small round table in the middle of the room.

A small figure sits on the opposite side and holds one hand over a glass sphere.

If you're wondering what the fairy looked like. Yes, just what you think.

Her face hidden in a storm of loose hair, colorful wide clothes, a mass of necklaces, beads, talismans and rings.

It's hard to tell her age, but judging by her voice, she may already be in her midlife years.

“At me?”

You ask finally approaching the table.

“Sit down, and don't ask questions. The sphere has already told me everything... with the rest, you know very well what awaits you again...”

Sitting down on the chair closely watching the woman, you understand nothing of what she says. Maybe there's really no point in asking her anything, as you won't believe it anyway. Let her say what she has to say, and quickly leave this strange place.

“Four. That's your number, definitely. A strong, strong four. Unbreakable.

The same thing awaits you...yes, but this time it will be ..more intense, more interesting, so... complete. “

In the room as if the wind blew, many candles go out, and your skin went through shivers.

The woman pays no attention to this and continues

“Only this time be guided by your heart, okay? It will be a happy and joyful time, use it. And don't regret anything. Just remember, choose with your heart. Not with the mind.”

With her last word, the room goes dark. You sit slightly puzzled and bewildered.

What actually happened?

Having, once again in this peculiar place, no time to ask questions. The door behind you opens and again that mysterious voice informs you that the visit is over.

Kyle was the first one.

Kyle was the right one.

Kyle.

He just was.

Didn't think I was ready for love again.

Saturday, you walk ahead. Since the morning, you felt a great need to just get out of the apartment, this small cramped place. Claustrophobic.

Sometimes you have days like this, to go out without looking back. To leave everything behind and go. Walk, just simply walk, step by step. Until your legs start to hurt. Or until it gets dark.

Sunk in your thoughts you reach quite far, from home. Your walk has been going on for a good three hours. It has started to rain. You think a little bit and you hide under the canopy of one of the nearest buildings.

Will you catch me if I float?

Glad that you didn't get too wet, on the other hand you curse yourself in your mind. You didn't even take your phone with you, you'll have to wait until it stops raining.

Looking up you sadly conclude that, unfortunately, it doesn't look like the weather is going to change any time soon.

There aren't even any people around, no pedestrians. No one.

Minutes pass, long boring ones.

Finally you hear the sound of an engine, a car approaching at high speed. You think maybe it's a taxi, you step out from under the canopy and at that moment the car drives past you.

Splashing you.

“Fuck! Are you kidding me?”

Angrily you wipe your wet face to see anything. The car has unfortunately already disappeared around the corner, so you weren't even supposed to see what the car was. Even, you couldn't see its color.

You stand like this, on the sidewalk, not caring that the rain is falling on you. You are soaked. Even your hair is wet and stuck to your face. Just like your clothes, they have become heavy and cold. It's like someone threw you into a pool with your clothes on.

I think you even have wet panties.

“Just great!”

You mumble irritably, feeling a lump in your throat. You don't want to cry, but you feel terrible. Not only physically. But somehow mentally, too.

This situation reminds you of the humiliation you experienced because of your physical appearance in the past, at school.

Trying to at least drain the water from your hair and somehow tie it up or braid it. So it doesn't bother you, you don't pay attention that a car has stopped next to you.

Cause I feel gravity, gravity, gravity Pulling you to me, you to me, you to me

“Excuse me? Perhaps, I can somehow...help you?”

A warm and concerned voice gets your attention. You raise your head and freeze.

A few steps in front of you there is a large dark car, a man is looking at you from the open window.

Very handsome. Young. Definitely not from your small town. Probably some sort of passerby.

“Can I help you somehow, ma'am?”

Laughing lightly, he repeats the question. His voice pleasant, like a spring wind, like a meadow full of flowers, like warm tea with honey and raspberries.

Finally you shake it off, and say without thinking much about it.

“Actually, yes.”

Maybe you shouldn't get into the car of a complete stranger, but there's something that tells you to agree, to get in, to finally go home.

You're terribly wet and cold.

You quickly get into the passenger seat fastening your seat belt and giving your address.

You introduce yourself, gently squeezing the man's hand. His hand, despite several scars and hard skin, is warm and very welcoming to you.

It seems the two of you hold hands a few moments longer than the usual greeting should last.

Fixing your hair behind your ear, you smile slightly at the man and slowly let go of his hand. However, despite this, his gaze does not leave your face.

“I'm Kyle...”

The man finally says, turning on the car's engine and slowly moving towards your house.

No oxygen up here Must be gravity, gravity

The drive passes undeniably quickly, the streets at this hour and considering the weather are unusually empty.

You don't exchange many sentences, typically pleasantries. He's here on business, you've lived here all your life.

He can't talk about work, but it's something related to ''safety.''

You, on the other hand, could talk about your work for hours, but you don't want to bore him with scientific babble.

He, when speaking, gesticulates, speaks confidently and laughs loudly.

You, on the other hand, speak quietly, smiling gently. Intimidated.

Actually, you don't know how it happens that a man is already standing in front of your door. He is so charming, kind, friendly. That you agree without thinking as he offers to go to your house under his umbrella.

Truly charming he is.

Putting the key in the lock and opening the door, you turn towards the man

“Maybe as a thank you... I didn't do any shopping, but maybe.... Perhaps you'd like some tea and cake?”

“Sure, a cup of tea is even necessary in this weather.”

He laughs loudly again smiling widely.

You hastily put water in the kettle for tea, gently shivering. Those damn clothes stuck to your skin like wet cold scales.

You quickly prepare cups and plates of cookies. As you turn around to go and finally change into something thick, warm and comfortable. You impetuously bump into the man who inaudibly entered the kitchen and stood a step behind you.

“Excuse me.”

You mumbled embarrassedly. Surely that collision with your weight must have hurt him.

Kyle smiles at you while gently tilting his head

“You're soaked.”

Saying this, he brushes away unruly strands of hair from your face.

You swallow your drool loudly.

Why has the kitchen suddenly become so stuffy? Was it the boiling water that raised the temperature in the small apartment so dramatically?

Oh God no.

It was him.

Kyle.

Grabbing the back of your head, he draws your face to his, and gently kisses you. At first he gently brushes his lips against your lips. But after a while he intensifies the kiss, more greedily. Possessively. With one hand he gently massages the scalp of your head as his other hand wandered over your body, gently squeezing your breasts. Then he lasciviously strokes your belly. His hand slowly makes its way to the line of your pants.

The man between kisses slowly brings out word by word

“Sorry, I never. This is my first time. i mean, never so fast. but, fuck “.

Despite the tangle of words, you understand what he means.

No one ever wanted you the moment they met you. Never has anyone wanted you so quickly.

Should I let go? (Ooh, let go) And lose control? (Ooh, lose control)

In response, you entwine your arms around his neck wanting to show him not to go anywhere. To keep his body even closer to yours.

His hand easily makes its way under the material of your jeans and panties gently poking his fingers into the warm, plush of your lower abdomen. He gently teases the tender skin under your pants with his fingers.

You silently moan involuntarily, his lips slowly directing gentle kisses to your neck.

He is sure to leave marks on you.

As he gently sucks the thin skin close to your pulse, you stiffen, your body is pierced by pleasant shivers.

“Where is the bedroom?”

After these words, you wave your hand roughly in the direction of your small room with a bed and a tiny closet.

When the man finally pulls away from you, with a quiet pop  his lips finally pulled away from your skin.

His hand continued to rest in your panties as he gently and calmly rubbed the area around your clit with his fingertips.

Keeping the last remnants of common sense, you turn off the kitchen to avoid burning the kettle with boiling water.

Tea was no longer needed.

As you and Kyle land on the bed, you on your back, the man slowly kisses every part of your body with precision.

Wet clothes with each passing moment land with a slight sloshing on the floor. You don't even worry about the mess you both leave behind.

Lose my breath in your atmosphere No oxygen up here

Once you're completely naked, Kylie kneels in front of you. Stroking your thick thighs, slowly running his fingers over your fat, and you squirm as the cool air hits your wet cunt.

“Show off your beauty, don't hide.”

He opens your legs, not taking his eyes off your face.

Slightly embarrassed, you bury your head in your hands, your elbows covering your exposed breasts. Your large nipples heap under the change of temperature after removing your wet clothes.

“Baby!”

Kyle says more firmly, gripping your inner thigh cheeks.

“I need to warm you up, you're so soaked.”

After these words, he dives between your legs and, kissing your thighs, moves closer to your center.

You feel his warm breath teasing your sensitive skin.

“You’re so beautiful and wet...”

He mumbles, and after these words. You feel his tongue teasing the area around your rear hole, with a long stroke he directs his tongue upward.

His tongue is rough and hot as he focuses on your clit. First teasing the hard little button with his tongue slowly circling it. Then he starts sucking on it.

“That's it, baby. Just mine.”

You moan louder. His words, the slow play of his mouth and tongue between your wet folds making you feel the growing pleasure in your lower abdomen.

It's been so long, no, never before has anyone taken care of you like this. With such adoration and worship.

“Kyle... I think I'm ~oh!”

Your breathing speeds up

“Come on baby. I'll make you cum with my tongue”

His mouth gently sucks your clitoris, and he caresses your swollen bud with his tongue, speeding up the fun of it.

You reach your first orgasm of the evening. Your legs involuntarily shaking, your rippling belly and breasts gently bouncing during this sudden sensation.

“Honey, are you ready for more?

Kyle rises slowly, kissing your cunt, lifting your legs, kissing your lower abdomen around your breasts and sternum. Leaving wet marks on your skin.

He stops at the valley of your breasts, gently tilting his head and squinting his eyes.

“Um... the stone in the necklace has changed color, interesting.”

He smiles and leans in, kissing you on the lips.

As you kiss him, you can feel your juices mixed with his saliva.

“Ready?”

Kyle catches you below the knees, bringing your legs closer to his chest, one hand grasping his erect member.

Just now you stare intently at his penis. His tip is an dark pink, dripping rich pearls of precum, and fuck, it's thick. It's not long, rather a standard size, but the thickness surprised you.

With amusement, the man looks at you, leaning over you again with one hand resting next to your head. With his other hand, he pumps his protruding shaft with quick, powerful movements.

His tip teases your wet and very tender folds.

“Babe, I need you. Right now, next time... I'll take care of you longer, better, all right?”

You nod. Completely ignoring his words.

He slowly slides into your warm and wet hole. Its walls, although invitingly spread around his cock, tenderly and tightly squeeze him.

Both of you are moaning loudly with pleasure.

He embeds his thick cock deep inside you and starts slowly rocking back and forth.

Rhythmic obscene wet sounds, body slapping against body and increasingly loud sighs fill the room. Kyle grabs your wrists and lifts your arms above your head, crossing and holding them tightly like this. Entering you with more force.

He moves faster and faster inside you. You wrap your legs around his hips so that, thanks to the new angle, he enters you fuller, harder. He moves even faster.

He kisses you again, this time with more force, his tongue forces itself deep into your mouth so that his teeth collide with yours.

His movements are less rhythmic now, but deeper, he places kisses on your cheek, neck, caressing your collarbone.

You reach another orgasm at the same time as you feel the man tighten his body and eat into your neck. His warm cum gushing into your pussy, which, under the influence of another peak, squeezes even more around his throbbing member. His cum fills you and gently mixed with your juices flows out of you, running down your folds

You lie like this entwined for many more moments, gasping loudly, his breath teasing your sweaty, tender neck skin.

Kyle, after taking a few deeper breaths, finally says raising his head and looking into your eyes

"The stone in your necklace, is now canary yellow”

Tossing and turning, I can't get you off my mind Thinking about what you did to me last night Am I in trouble? Should I hit the breaks? Being with you is my favorite mistake

[that-ari-blogger]

"Eda, do you have kids?" (Eda's Requiem)

The Owl House is a series about identity and the freedom to express oneself the way they wish. It explores the ways in which that affects relationships with others and oneself. Self-image, mental health, love, all fall under this bracket. This is partly why I would refer to The Owl House as a queer story rather than just a story with a queer protagonist. It engages with the concept in a nuanced way that I think is interesting.

The Owl House is also about family. The theme was present at the beginning, but it was very much a background thought. However, season two examined this idea in a ton more detail, through the Golden Guard, through Amity, and even through the side characters.

But the single best part of The Owl House is its ability to weave themes together. Family and identity are parts of each other. A family is a group of people with a shared identity, and a persons sense of self is usually defined by their experiences with their family. That is why found family is a part of family, it’s not about blood, it’s about connection.

This duality is directly the cause of my two favourite episodes in the show, Reaching Out, and Eda’s Requiem, the latter of which deals with a crisis of identity and a juxtaposition of past and future.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD (The Owl House)

How does Eda define herself?

That is a question that grows more complicated over time. She is the Owl Lady, the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles, which is a neat thing have while it remains true. However, she stops being that at the end of season one, and still clings to the moniker, why?

“How did you become the Owl Lady with your stage fright?”

It’s a persona, an act that she puts on to impress everyone, including herself. It is an identity that she wears like a mask, and who would know more about wearing masks than Raine Whispers.

I’m going to take a brief moment to talk about my favourite little detail in the series, and I give all credit to @Idlescreee’s video, Names in The Owl House: Breakdown and Analysis, which pointed this out to me.

I am one of those people for whom silence makes my skin crawl, and so I like to put on music or white noise while I work. One of my go to sounds is that of rain, I am literally listening to it as I write this post.

So Raine Whispers is a quiet name about the beauty of nature and the quietness of a natural sound. Perfect for a bard, right?

Well, not exactly. Context gives meaning more than anything else, and Raine’s context is the Boiling Isles, in which the rain is acid, making a hissing sound as it destroys everything in its path. Raine Whispers is a name that refers to the fury of nature. It is quaint at first glance but could destroy you if given the chance. A fitting name for a spy.

In any case, the purpose of Raine in this episode is to provide a contrast to Eda, they are someone from their past who has changed a lot since the two last met. Raine is unconditionally the wisest character in the series, and their ability to read people is unrivalled. So, they can see through any illusion she throws up.

They are also the first named non-binary character in the series, and it is a neat piece of storytelling that a character who’s sense of identity involves not being confined by binary gender would be against a villain who runs on categorising people. It’s not dwelled on, which is a strength of the show’s normalisation, but it’s cool, none the less.

The mirroring of Eda means that the audience can notice the two’s similarities more easily. Most importantly, Eda has also changed, although not as much as she thinks.

I am going to bring back the concept of a lowest common denominator style of character analysis. Essentially, a character can be boiled down to a single concept that cannot be changed for the character to stay the same person. The character can switch up their entire identity, allegiance, or even body in some cases, but it is this attribute that keeps them recognisable.

For example, Hunter is brave. He switches up characterisation almost entirely over the series, going from the Golden Guard to the most precious boi over the course of two seasons, but he keeps the fact that he is, at all times, bone numbingly terrified, and still able to persevere. Hunter is brave.

Eda, meanwhile, is complicated. She is an agent of chaos, but she brings stability to the lives of everyone she is close to. She is against authority, but that is an allegiance rather than a descriptor. So, with the full understanding that this is inaccurate, I will say that Eda is free.

Again, this is inaccurate, and oversimplifying, but it’s the best I can come up with. Eda is unabashedly herself, and the primary conflict of this episode is trying to work out who that is. So… Eda is Eda? That’s unhelpful but hold onto it for a moment.

The episode itself follows an opportunity to live the good old life with an old friend, and Eda jumps on it. She is growing distant from Luz and King, and she doesn’t quite understand why this upsets her as much as it does. She has become a parent without even realising it.

So, she takes the chance to go with Raine, chasing the high of connection and creating the persona of Mama Eda, although that is where the analysis gets weird.

Maternal and paternal behaviours are different across cultures, but they are usually not specifically necessarily reliant on gender. Yes, they are linked by association (it’s part of the words), but it’s not intrinsic.

Case and point, in the culture that I read this story from, Eda is absolutely terrible at being maternal. So she doesn’t try to be, instead, she fills a ton of paternal roles in the lives of those around her. But it’s also inaccurate to read her as entirely paternal. Instead, she fits both roles, leaning further into one, but not entirely.

Essentially, Eda parents in her own way, and struggles when trying to live up to “the right method” of doing things. Eda is Eda. She excels at doing her own thing. Trying to define her as one archetype is reductive and misses the nuance of her character.

What I think is really interesting, is that Eda realises she has become a parent when the story essentially threatens to take her family away, and she is surprised by how she feels.

While I have my opinions on the fake out, it is an effective way to see what the fear of loss does to a person, or rather, the fear of unimportance.

Being a parent is about guiding your children, but its also about letting go. Eventually, every bird will eventually leave the nest. However, that doesn’t mean the relationship is over. People still need guidance, even as adults.

Eda is willing to throw her life away as a last-ditch effort to help her family without having to say goodbye. She doesn’t think they need her anymore, so she is willing to go out with a bang. But she is wrong.

Eda clings to the instrument, even as it kills her. She thinks that love means dying for the people she cares about, but that's not entirely true. You have to live for them as well. I wonder who else in the series could learn that lesson.

A rhapsody is a musical piece associated with strong, enthusiastic emotions. A requiem is about remembrance. Raine’s song is about hope, and the joy of a future yet to be. Eda’s is about a past well lived, and the memory of that love. If you put the two together, you get a song that can bring down a mountain.

“Eda, do you have kids?” “Uh, they're not mine-mine. Well, it doesn't matter. They both have real families to return to.” “I don't know what you're running from, but a great witch once told me... something about punching fears in the face? What I'm trying to say is don't give up so easily. They probably need you more than you realize. We can find another way to stop Belos together.”

Remember what I said about Raine being wise? This is that.

Raine teaches Eda that she is still needed. She lets Eda know that her purpose isn’t gone, its just different. You are different people all throughout your life, you just need to remember what you have seen, and change with the times.

Why is the line read of this girl realising she's back in the conformatorium so heartbreaking?

I also want to point out the fear of insignificance from a found family perspective. Eda thinks that her relationship with Luz is less valuable than their blood relations, but I don’t really believe that. Eda has taught Luz magic and sheltered her from a literal dictator. She has raised King from childhood. I think those are pretty important things for a family member to do, whether through direct relation or not.

In the resolution of this episode, King changes his name to be an official part of Eda’s family, which, sure, that’s how things work in the Boiling Isles.

“Surprise, Eda! Now we're connected for life, and there's nothing you can do about it!”

She’s a parent now, and that relationship is as important to king as finding out who his biological father is. In other words, Eda still has a purpose, and the fact this surprises her means that she has a lot to learn, but she is better at it than she thinks.

One last thing I want to talk about before I go is that Raine is a unique rebel. Usually, in stories about fighting an authoritarian regime, the cost of rebellion comes up. This is the conceit of Andor, but also part of Wicked, and She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. In these stories, the idea that one person must use the tools of their enemy. Not as bad as their opponents by any stretch of the imagination, but sacrificing their own morality in a small way for future generations.

Raine doesn’t do that. Raine is fighting for a better world, and at all times, they will sacrifice their plans to save the individual. Raine has plans in motion that can counteract any single “failure”, but crucially, preserving the world they want to protect is never a failure to them.

So, in summary, found family is just as important as blood family. More important in some cases. Eda has built her identity around being a parent without realising that is what she has been doing, this episode is her confronting that. Raine is cool. Defining people is difficult and takes away from who they are as people. The Owl House is a good show.

A Kikimora is a creature associated with sleep paralysis. So her ability to paralyse people is a neat thing, as well as that "night night" line.

Final Thoughts

This season has a string of episodes that are determined to break me, but I will stay strong. Through The Looking Glass Ruins, Hunting Palismen, and now this. But I’m fine, I’ve got this.

Eda’s Requiem is one of my two favourite episodes in the series. I can’t gush enough about the music, the pacing, the purpose seeking. This is so compelling, and it really works as a piece of storytelling.

The episode does have one flaw, in my opinion, and to me, this is an example of how one weird piece of direction can mess with my suspension of disbelief. The extended syllable whenever anyone says “legally” in this episode is so… off putting. It’s like King is expecting to be cut off, and it’s asking for Eda to misunderstand him. It’s such a small detail, but the episode is almost perfect otherwise, and this sticks out to me like a sore thumb.

The episode is still phenomenal though, and so to balance out my criticism, here’s a small detail I really liked. When Eda punches the guard, his head spins around 360 degrees. First up, the casual worldbuilding that this guy can do that but also the fact that the outfit doesn’t react that much to it means that it has been made especially to fit his anatomy. That’s a cool detail.

Anyway, next week I’ll be looking at Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door, which is a Hooty episode. Something fun, and entertaining. I’m sure nothing plot relevant will happen then, right? Right?

Stick around if you want to see my analysis of that chaos.

Previous - Next

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre: Romance, Canon-Divergent AU

cw: switching POVs (2nd and 3rd person), explicit language, angst, hurt/comfort, non-canon compliant, canon-typical violence, fluff, slow burn, eventual smut, eventual time-skip

Summary: Student, big brother, sewing expert, and Second Division Caption of the Tokyo Manji Gang. Takashi Mitsuya is an 18-year-old boy who wears many different hats. With graduation approaching in a few short months, he must decide what path he wants to follow into his future: continue his life as a delinquent or live in normalcy, a concept he’s never been familiar with, an idea he’s only chased but never captured. Until one day, he meets Hana Shimizu, the very definition of ordinary. That’s what he thinks, at first. Little does he know that this “ordinary” girl would change his life.

Author's Notes: I binged all two seasons of Tokyo Revengers within the past two weeks and I'm OBSESSED with Mitsuya! He is absolutely husband material, so I was inspired to write this, I hope you like it! It's my first time writing a female original character, but I'm keeping it formatted like a reader-insert because I genuinely enjoy writing in that style. Heads up, she does have a name and a few distinct qualities - she has hair and is chubby (similar to me!), but it's not the main focus of the story. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thank you for reading!

Chapter Title and Summary (spoiler-free):

Chapter 1: Cut From the Same Cloth - Takashi Mitsuya has always lived his life being true to himself. Despite being the proud Second Division Captain of the notorious Tokyo Manji Gang, he never hides the softer side of him: He cares deeply for his two younger sisters and enjoys spending his free time sewing. When a classmate, Hana Shimizu, approaches him, asking for lessons in sewing, he agrees, not seeing any downsides to having some company.

Chapter 2: On Pins and Needles - Hana babysits Luna and Mana for the first time. Mitsuya catches up with Draken before attending a short, but tumultuous Toman meeting at Musashi Shrine.

Chapter 3: A Stitch Ahead - Mitsuya is asked to create jackets for the newly appointed captains, to which he reluctantly agrees. When the deadline arrives and he still hasn’t finished, he enlists your aid to help him complete his task. The same day, the two of you make dinner together for his sisters, leaving Mitsuya with a lasting impression.

Chapter 4: Cute as a Button - Mitsuya skips a session of sewing lessons, attempting to keep his distance after realizing his growing feelings for you. You’re left wondering where you stand with him, confused by his behavior the last time you saw him. Soon enough, you both realize that these feelings are too intense to ignore.

Chapter 5: Bursting at the Seams - You and Mitsuya make your newly blossomed relationship official. To commemorate this special occasion, he invites you to his house for breakfast, where you meet his mother. 

Chapter 6: Heart on a Sleeve - You and Mitsuya make your budding relationship public and things only continue to grow from there. The Tokyo Manji gang successfully absorbs the Leviathans all thanks to the efforts of new captains Tetta Kisaki and Shuji Hanma. Despite Mikey’s praise for them during this month’s meeting, Mitsuya remains wary of the two. His suspicions only increase when he runs into them while on a date with you. 

Chapter 7: Reap What You Sew - A dinner with you, Mitsuya, and your parents quickly goes south. Mitsuya makes a decision that could lead to dire consequences. 

Chapter 8: Hanging by a Thread - After leaving the Tokyo Manji Gang, Mitsuya feels like his life is on the right track. They have their fearless leader Mikey back to his usual self and Mitsuya’s relationship with Hana grows stronger day by day. They graduate, ready for the next big step in their lives. But with everything said and done, the past will always haunt the brothers of Toman, for better and for worse.  

Chapter 9: A Rough Patch (tbd)

Chapter 10: Mending What's Broken (tbd)

Please do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission! Thank you!

[charmingsoa]

■ Bring it On Home to Me (Intro) ■ John Egan x OC Multi chapter story ⚠ Warning ⚠ This story will feature themes not appropriate for those under the age of 18 and will focus on sensitive subjects at times. Story will contain scenes of sexual content, cursing, physical and verbal abuse, substance use, cheating, miscarriage, mentions of war, etc. Warnings will be posted with each chapter. Please be advised when reading. This fic is purely fiction and has nothing to to do with the actual men of Masters of Air. A/N: Hello! So this is my first John Egan story and i'm kind of excited and nervous to display it to you all... I've never written for this character before but i've read all the amazing stories that are out there and I wanted to jump on the bandwagon. So, this story starts off a little different than most and it will actually go back in time to tell the story. Like I said, it's a little different, but I hope in a good way! I hope you all enjoy 😊

If you would like to be tagged for future updates, please let me know!

“I think that’s the last of it, mom.” I looked up from the picture, my oldest daughter staring back as she wiped a stray hair out of her face.

The house, the place where I had spent the last 50 years, now stood before me vacant and empty, echoing with the memories of a lifetime. The bare walls, once adorned with photos capturing moments from the past and present, now stared back at me, the original paint faded from where the frames had sat untouched for many years. This home had been the anchor of our family, the sanctuary where my children, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren had all found solace and security.

I could still see it vividly in my mind's eye - my girls taking their first steps on the soft carpet of the living room, their laughter filling the air. The kitchen, with its worn wooden floors, bore witness to their growth, marked by notches on the door frame tracking their increasing heights. The backyard, a place of endless play and joy, had been the backdrop for countless family gatherings, from first day-of-school photos to prom nights and even wedding celebrations.

As I wandered through the empty rooms, memories flooded my mind - the sound of children's laughter echoing down the halls, the smell of home-cooked meals wafting from the kitchen, the sight of my grandchildren playing in the backyard as I watched from the comfort of the wraparound porch. This was more than just a house; it was a living, breathing repository of our family's history and love.

This was the home that he had promised me, the place where we had vowed to build our lives and raise our family, where we had planned to stay until the end of our days. Now, as I prepared to say goodbye to our beloved home, a mix of emotions swirled within me.

"I'm gonna get you out of here – give you a life worth living and loving in America," the soldier declared, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and allure. As he spoke, tendrils of smoke curled lazily from the cigarette between his fingers, adding to the air of mystery that surrounded him. His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, bore into mine with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

Rolling my eyes in response, I stubbed out my own cigarette, the ember extinguishing with a hiss. All the soldiers were the same, I thought wryly, willing to say anything to win favor and attention, especially at the end of a long night. Despite his good looks and the faint scent of whiskey and smoke that emanated from his dress greens, I remained guarded, having heard similar promises before.

"You watch and see, little girl," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his posture exuding confidence. His thighs were spread open, a display of dominance that didn't escape my notice. "I'll buy you any kind of house you want – a farmhouse, a mansion, one on the beach."

"Mom-" Bridget's voice broke through the silence, pulling me back from the depths of my thoughts. I blinked, refocusing on the present moment, feeling her warm hand gently pressing against my back. Her touch comforting.

I turned to look at her, a concerned gaze searching mine. Her eyes, so much like her father’s, reflected a mix of worry and love. In that moment, I saw the strength and resilience that she had inherited from him.

"I'm okay, sweetheart," I reassured her, offering a faint smile to ease her concern. "Just lost in my thoughts for a moment there."

She let out a sigh as she looked over the empty home, "Daddy used to always tell Maggie and me that we wouldn’t be able to get you out of this house – even if we infested it with all the spiders in the world – you would find a way to stay," she reminisced, a hint of amusement in her voice.

A smile tugged at my lips as she continued, "He would kid us by saying that you loved this house more than you loved him, which we both knew was not true."

"Well," I smirked, "There were times when your father was not my favorite person, but he always had a way of making it up to me in the end, even if it was my fault for the argument." The intensity of our arguments, fueled by stubbornness and pride, seemed to fade in comparison to the fierce passion that ignited between us once the storm had passed.

"Do you realize that you’re a pain in my ass?” I rolled my eyes as he stood firmly in front of me. “If I wanted to cheat on you, I would have gone out and done it already, Vanessa. I could go down to George’s bar and pick any one of those hookers that hang around there – I’m sure they would be more than happy to spend a couple hours with me."

A mean smirk formed on my face as I retorted, “You haven’t lasted more than 10 minutes in over two years.” I scoffed. “Over here talking about lasting a couple hours – it's either your back or your knees that start hurting in a matter of seconds. God forbid you’re the one on the bottom.”

His eyes narrowed at my cutting remarks. “You sayin that I’m no good in bed?” he shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

“You’re the one talking about being some kind of Adonis,” I remarked, feeling my back hit the counter behind me as he crept closer. “I’m just stating the facts, sweetheart.” His tall frame towered over mine, his arms trapping me in on either side. I glared up at him with hooded eyes, while his piercing blue eyes held a hint of mischief.

“I mean, you’re okay I guess,” I replied, trying to maintain a façade of indifference despite the closeness between us.

His breath tickled my ear as he leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “The way you were begging last night might say otherwise, V.” His words sent a jolt of heat through me, memories of the previous night flooding back with an intensity that left me momentarily speechless.

"Daddy made this place fun, that's for sure – it's gonna be weird not seeing him sitting in the rocking chair out front or fiddling around in his garden," Bridget remarked, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. I nodded in understanding, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily in my heart.

"Gonna be weird just not coming here period," she added, her eyes briefly meeting mine as I let out a sad sigh.

As we stood there, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of our family home, I couldn't help but feel a sense of loss creeping in. John’s presence had always been a comforting constant, his love and warmth filling every corner of this house. Without him, the home felt like an empty shell – hollow and cold.

“I think I’m gonna take one more look around- “My voice hitching in my throat. “Make sure I have everything before I turn the keys over to the realtor.”

Bridget nodded her head, her touch leaving my arm as she slowly walked towards the front door. I could hear her speaking with the real estate agent that was waiting outside, the realization that this was the end starting to dawn on me.

My eyes moved down to the picture that I clutched tightly in my hands – our young, bright smiles on display as the bulb flashed in front of us. The first photograph of us in front of our new house – the place where we promised to spend the rest of our days.

549 Timber Creek Rd.

[madmasterspage]

Okay, this is not my usual type of posts, but I really wanted to share my thoughts here. That's gonna be a little bit long.

So, shall we start?

Hello! My name is Ann, I'm 21 y.o. and recently I realised that I'm aro/ace. My realisation wasn't instant or I've-always-known-it type, it came through the constant denial and self-analysis. I had to learn how to separate my own believes and believes that came outside. And there are some signs I started to notice.

First sign, and maybe the biggest, is my family. Even though my parents are married and have two children (me and my sister) they've never shown any kind of romantic or sexual attraction to one another. They don't have too strict gender roles, like wife must be a housekeeper and husband an earner who can't wash his own clothes. They both working hard and being passionate about there jobs. And they live in separate houses all my life. No, they aren't divorced. No, they don't plan to divorce. And no, they weren't forced to marry. It was their own choice — to create a family, raise children and give those children all best they can. I've never seen a family like mine (not in my closest circle of people at least). A family, where stability and future means more than passion and attraction, a family that was grown just from sympathy and nothing more (if you're in aro/ace spec and have a similar situation, I would love to know). My point is, if that's not what qpr looks like I don't know what does.

Second, I've never thought of romance in fiction, where genres are not romance. Every time I was watching or reading something where romance isn't obvious I wasn't getting any of the hints, and sincerely believing that this is a story about beautiful frienship and adventures. Only if someone would point out to me that there's romance or two characters would kiss I would be incredibly confused, not considering that was an option at all.

So what's the point of this story?

I think that living in a world where romantic and sexual relationships are so intrusive and imposing can be really confusing for understanding who you are. That pressure makes you self-conscious and the older you get the bigger the pressure.

I wish I never knew what romance is.

I wish I wasn't forced to see so much of it everywhere.

I wish I could create my own place where I wouldn't have to explain myself or adjust to the others.

P.s. Thank you, if you've read it all. <3

[presiding]

How you'd rewrite Dishonored death of the outsider if it was fully fledged game with 10 missions? (like Dishonored or Dishonored 2)

Oooh!! Enrichment in my enclosure - thank you for asking! Thinking about a total rewrite was a great exercise. Fair disclaimer: I haven’t read the books & their canon-status can’t hurt me. To me, the Dishonored games stand out due to their immsim design philosophy, and thinking about some of the industry reasons for DotO’s departure from that, if I could make a standalone game with ~ten levels I would, but with the same budget I’d also happily make two DLCs made slowly over a longer timeframe with greater attention to detail.

Game structure

Finding Daud // Billie’s past

The fate of the Outsider // Billie’s future

Game story

Setting & Characters

Billie: What has Billie been doing since she’s returned to Serkonos? Knowing the Dreadful Wale will sink, she’s sold it for scrap & has set up an agency in Lower Aventa. She’s something of a detective/odd-jobs man (& assassin when it suits her). Business is booming, life is good. I think a long-running implication that she's becoming Daud in some ways would make for an interesting subplot.

Karnaca: a city that unfolds. In the first levels, Billie feels like a forgotten woman, a ghost slipped through the cracks, but as levels progress there are hints & references to how her past actions have affected others & shaped the city

Alignments: Witches, gangs, religion, industry; missions for clients who can’t necessarily pay their way. Missions that allow the player to explore/understand Karnaca in a deeper way.

Daud: Billie is unsure if Daud again will bring her any closure. She’s been thinking of him since her time with Emily, and his name keeps popping up.

Deirdre: the charm is a more functional heart, similar to Jessamine, as well as her own character design. Perhaps she doesn’t see Deirdre until she chooses the powers, or until she’s in the void (see next point)

First arc: Finding Daud // Billie’s past

Powers: the Outsider offers Billie powers even though her life is finally, actually good, so she’s pissed off. A choice - she can take them, or play no powers mode.

Breanna Ashworth is this arc’s villain - she wants Delilah back, and knows that Daud has banished her before, wants to know how he did it. Grief & desperation has changed her, and she no longer has her high society veneer. The remnants of the Karnaca coven, now powerless, have stolen from the Overseers to arm themselves to the teeth, and to neutralise Daud’s powers, in addition to black bonecharms.

Billie’s in a race against time against Breanna to find Daud, but by the last level it becomes clear that Breanna *has* found Daud, and has been torturing him for information about the void. Her dynamic with Billie is complicated by their past.

I think betrayal would be an interesting theme, so maybe one of the levels gives you the option to ally yourself with Breanna under false pretences.

Second arc: choosing the fate of the Outsider // Billie’s future

Delilah is the core villain, but she’s obsessed with killing the Outsider so she can take his place, having been violently ripped from her perfect world in her own painting by Breanna (who meant well), & knowing the Empire doesn’t hold her interest... but a perfectly mouldable void & infinite power does take her fancy.

As remorseful Daud is obsessing about preventing Delilah from taking power, Billie’s doing some detective work and learns more about the Outsider (he’s not showing up and monologuing - she’s finding this out herself. A level idea could be a raid on a ‘haunted’ houses where the void is thin)

Delilah succeeds in taking the Outsider's place, leaving the Outsider dead or mortal depending on if you are able to save him. Delilah has split her soul from herself before and she’s very much clever enough to learn the Outsider’s name to render him mortal.

Daud knows he’s dying, though, and it might be an ultimate sacrifice to save both Billie’s life, and the Outsider’s.

So during the final battle, there’s an option to make Daud the Outsider, because Daud wants Billie and the Outsider to have a shot at a normal life, and his life was forfeit in his own mind…

… or, reluctantly accepting the Outsider’s help, Billie finds a way to cut the void’s access to the world, rendering Delilah an all powerful god over a dead & silent world.

Because of the past/present focus of this you could even have levels set in the past - missions with Billie & Daud. Perhaps Billie as POV character, and Daud dropping by the way that Billie did in Knife of Dunwall. That’d be neat.

A heap of ideas here, hope there was something you liked :)

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 7: Life as it was

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The drive back to the farm was long and quiet, the miles stretching out before you as you tried to process everything that had happened. The silence in the car was deafening, amplifying the thoughts that swirled in your mind.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the sight of the familiar farmhouse brought a wave of emotions crashing over you. It had been a place of comfort, of new beginnings, but now it felt empty, as if a piece of you was missing.

Inside, the house was eerily quiet, the absence of Dave’s presence palpable. You moved through the rooms on autopilot, your mind numb from the events of the day.

Finally, you found yourself in the bathroom, staring down at the pregnancy test you had bought days ago in DC, the night you first encountered Carol. With trembling hands, you took it out of the packaging, the weight of the possible result pressing down on you.

The minutes that followed felt like hours, each second stretching out as you waited for the test to reveal your fate. When the result finally appeared, it was as if the world shifted beneath your feet.

Positive.

You stared at the small window on the test, the two lines staring back at you with a certainty that left no room for doubt. A new life, a new beginning, but under circumstances that were anything but ideal.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the reality of the situation settled in. You were carrying his child—a child that would connect you to him forever, even as he found his way back to a life that didn’t include you.

With a deep breath, you wiped away the tears and stood tall. This isn’t going to be easy and you know it, but you had faced challenges before. This was just one more test of your strength, and you were determined to see it through, no matter what. 

You have to make a choice. 

The days that followed your return to the farm were filled with a suffocating silence, broken only by the sounds of the animals and the rustling of the wind through the trees. The farmhouse, once a place of warmth and new beginnings, now felt like an empty shell. You threw yourself into your work and your daily tasks on the farm, trying to find solace in the familiar routines, but nothing could drown out the thoughts that haunted you.

The positive result from the pregnancy test weighed heavily on your mind. You hadn’t expected to be faced with this kind of decision, not now, not like this. The thought of bringing a child into the world, alone and uncertain of what the future held, filled you with a mixture of fear and doubt.

After a few days of wrestling with your thoughts, you decided to see the doctor. You needed to know more before making any decisions. The drive into town felt surreal, the usually short trip dragging on as your mind raced with a thousand thoughts.

In the sterile, quiet exam room, the doctor confirmed what you already suspected—you were a little over three months along. The realization hit you like a wave, the gravity of the situation finally sinking in. This wasn’t something you could ignore or push aside any longer. You had to make a decision, and soon.

Back at the farm, the emptiness of the house seemed even more pronounced as you unpacked the few things you had brought with you from the city. You found yourself standing in the doorway of the guest room—Dave’s room—staring at the bed where he had slept, the bedside table where he had kept his things.

Your eyes fell on a small stack of belongings that you had gathered to send back to him. You had promised Carol that you would mail his things, and it was time to make good on that promise. As you carefully packed his clothes and personal items into a box, your hand brushed against a small journal tucked under some papers.

You hesitated, then picked up the journal, feeling the weight of it in your hands. You knew you shouldn’t invade his privacy, but something compelled you to open it, to see what thoughts he had put down on those pages.

As you flipped through the journal, you saw that it chronicled his time on the farm. The early entries were sparse, detailing the daily tasks and routines, his therapy sessions, the long drives to and from the hospital, but as the weeks went on, the tone of the entries began to change. The writing became more introspective, more focused on the people around him—specifically, on you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read his words. He wrote about the quiet moments you shared, the way you had taken care of him, and how you had become a constant in his life. The entries gradually shifted from simply recounting events to expressing emotions, thoughts that he hadn’t been able to share out loud.

“I think I more than care for her,” one entry read, the words etched deeply into the page. “There’s something about her—something that makes me want to stay, to build something real. But how do I tell her? How do I make her see that this isn’t just gratitude, that it’s something more?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you continued reading. The journal was filled with his hopes and fears, his confusion about his past, and his growing feelings for you. He had been wrestling with the same emotions that you were, trying to make sense of what was happening between you two.

As you closed the journal, a profound sense of clarity washed over you. This journal was a reflection of a time that had passed—a time when there was hope for something more. But that time had come and gone. Dave had found his way back to his old life, and there was no place for you in it.

But there was something that you could keep, something that would remind you of what you had shared, even as you moved forward without him. The child you were carrying—a life born from the connection you and Dave had, a connection that was real, even if it was fleeting.

With a renewed sense of purpose, you carefully placed the journal in the box with his other belongings. You would mail everything to him, as you promised his wife, but the decision to keep the baby was yours alone.

The following day, you drove to the post office and sent the package off to the address Carol had given you. As you handed the box over, you felt a sense of closure. 

Keeping the child growing in you– It was a decision that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another—a chapter of your life that for once is not defined by loss, but by life.

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[betryl]

It's been said a lot of times before but I'll say it again because it's true: the country house section is one of the best, if not THE best section of the book.

It's weird to say considering how "useless" it is in terms of plot (there's the Bacchanal happening in the background but of course we know nothing about it yet), and there are many parts that are way more interesting in which actual things happen. Plus, it is quite long, so a lot of pages of basically nothing.

And yet in retrospect, that's the part that stuck with me the most in the end, and it still is one of the first things that come to mind when I think back on TSH.

It was just that vivid. Maybe it's because I've experienced something similar myself so I could sympathize with how Richard was feeling too. I just remember I was totally immersed in it the first time I read it. I really felt like I was there. And even if it did last longer than I expected and I wanted to go on with the story already, I didn't feel bored.

Apart from simply ✨the atmosphere✨ and ✨the aesthetic✨ being on point, I think the main reason for this is that it really fed the illusion, and it made you FEEL like Richard. We knew from the very first page (lines!) that this book was probably not going to be a joyful one. But while they were in that country house, everything seemed fine. Richard was finally making his way into the group, they were starting to be more open towards him, they were all having a great time together, we got to see their little stupid shenanigans which made us know all of them better and me inevitably attached to all of them (Bunny throwing Henry and Francis in the water will never not be funny to be) and they even started daydreaming about the possibility of living together in that house without anything changing in the future.

It was clear even while I was reading it that all those things would have never become true, and that the illusion would have shattered soon. But still a little part of me kept on believing that maybe that could last, because the way it was narrated by Richard was... weirdly hopeful, which isn't something I can say about any other part of the book I believe. It was hopeful, and yet there was that unsettling sense of dread creeping through the lines, because you KNEW the murder was coming soon and everything would end. But just like Richard, I just... didn't care in the moment.

The country house section to me was somehow a snippet into what could have been if they never murdered Bunny- or even before, if they never had the Bacchanal at all. Could things have gone wrong at some point still, for whatever other reason? Probably yes. Maybe they weren't meant to last anyways, maybe they weren't even friends in the first place, everyone has their own thoughts about this. But it's sweet to think about. Now knowing the whole story and how terrible the situation actually got makes those pages even more painful. Those really were their happiest times.

Also I could talk about Camilla cutting her foot too but that's maybe another post for another day before this becomes way too long lol.

Also also the cherry on top for me was definitely that last couple of lines which got to me HARD and make my heart ache still:

There was a ragged burst of laughter; faint, but clear, it floated back across the evening air. That laughter haunts me still.

[sinon36]

Echoes of Salvation: The Deal (Part I). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader  (Zombie AU)

Part II

The story starts after the dash.

Warnings: some gore, some mistakes, some bad writing (eh… we all have to start somewhere), not proof read, some independent woman surviving on her own without the need of help from men (cause I like self reliant women and people in general, they are a great inspiration to us all, really).

Disclaimer:

Dear readers,

Please be kind. This is my first fanfiction ever that I wrote and posted, so please be kind and overlook any potential inaccuracies, mistakes, grammatical errors as I’m not a professional writer and also English isn’t my native tongue. Though I have studied British English I am sure I haven’t really managed to accurately portray the British way of speaking, so please, feel free to point out anything that might poke you in the eye while reading this.

Also, I would like to tell you that this fan-fic is the love child of my obsession with our favourite masked man Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, and my love for anything zombie apocalypse or world-ending alternate universe or actual universe. Tbh If I wasn’t a poor student I would probably be a prepper, just like Frank from HBO’s TLoU. Most likely will be. I’m a little weird like that, you’ll see more in the future.

To close this little rant, I hope you’ll enjoy it, even if it’s short, I would really like to continue this if you deem it worth it enough. This will probably be a slow-burn kind of romance: 1. because I’m a sucker for the kind of slow-burn strangers/enemies to lovers fanfics, and 2. because it’s more realistic, let’s calm the whore-y instincts and be reasonable people that don’t climb masked 6-feet-tall strangers like trees.

With everything said I do not own the Call of Duty character Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (*whispers*Though I wish I did*) BUT I do own this piece of fanfic. Please don’t steal it. Repost it but please do give credit to other people’s work. You may notice some similarities to other fanfics, cause duh, I also read a lot of that, (isn’t that one of the incipient stages to becoming a fanfic writer?), but I would really like to give a shout out to the fanfic author that really inspired me to put fingers to keyboard and a fanfic into Tumblr, please, *drum rolls* a round of applause for @nsharks with her lovely fanfic ‘Bleeding Blue’. She’s really wonderful and you should really check her out.

Have fun reading and don’t forget to leave a comment or a heart. I wouldn’t mind suggestions of what to name Simons’ daughter. That would really make my day 😊

P.S. Sorry to all the fishing loving people out there, what I said was based on my impression of the fishing experience and should be taken with a grain of salt.

            Yours truly <3

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.                     

-

The sky is cloudy above but some sunbeams break through to warm the crisp air this fine early spring morning. It’s a good time for fishing now that the water is warmer, they come closer to the bank in search of food. It’s a boring task after you arrange all your tools and launch the line in the water. It’s a game of waiting and watching for any small tugs or movement of the neon-coloured fishing line. You picked up fishing after a couple of months into moving here, when everything was a mess and so many repairs and renovations had to be made around the house. The guy from the tutorials you used to watch on YouTube talked about the calmness and relaxation fishing brought to him. Maybe you weren’t cut out to stand all day on shore and gawk like an idiot for hours at the thin plastic line submerged in the lake water. But you cannot deny the proud feeling catching a fish brought to you when the line finally went taught.

You try and ward off the boredom and instead try to focus on the warmth that spring brings after months of endless cold. The birds are singing in trees, preparing nests for future offspring, and the lake is calm, with bubbles on the surface indicating the abundance of fish. Life is good. Bellamy enjoys sunbathing next to you rolling in a patch of grass. Everything is peaceful. Nothing really happens here anyway. You close your eyes basking in the good feeling that overtakes you.

A branch snapping behind you wakes you from the meditation you have fallen into. You raise and turn from where you are crouched over your equipment. You come face to face with a strange figure.         

‘Show me yer hands’ he tells you in a thick British accent, eyes focused on you and handgun aimed at your chest. He wears all black and a haunting white skull mask. He is tall, at least 6 feet tall, body poised to kill. In his other arm, you can see a little girl hugging his neck.

You slowly raise your hands. At your foot, Bellamy growls baring her teeth at the stranger sensing danger. You shush her grabbing her by the caller to keep her from attacking the armed man. You stand still watching in apprehension as the man studies you. You look at the ground where you left your backpack and your hatchet.

‘Don’t even think about it’ comes the gruff order. You nod trying to convey that you understand the situation. ‘There’s nothing in that bag worth a bullet’ you tell him in an even tone despite fear creeping down your spine. He hums in agreement. ‘And if you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it by now.’ He watches you like a hawk its prey. ‘So…’ you pause carefully measuring your words, ‘what it is that you want from me?’ he gestures you to take a few steps back and you drag Bellamy by her collar.

He kicks at the backpack spilling the contents. A bottle of water and a half-eaten sandwich, a hunting knife, and a rectangular box in which you keep the hooks, lures, fishing lines, and other small fishing equipment. He turns his gaze back at you and nods toward your dog. ‘Put a muzzle on it or I’ll shoot it’. your blood runs cold at the thought of losing your sole companion. You scramble to untie the scarf you keep tied around your wrist that you use to wipe away sweat from your forehead. You wrap the piece of cloth around the dog’s snout tight enough to not slip away. Next, the dark-clad man tells you to pack your fishing gear and collect your backpack, with one hand keeping it outstretched to the side and the other one grabbing at Bellamy’s collar guiding her forward. ‘Move. Eyes forward. Any sudden moves and I drop you.’

He walks a couple paces behind you. For how big he is you can barely hear him walk on the path. You can feel his gaze burning in the back of your head and the gun pointed at your back. As you start down the path you can make out the roof of your small house. Once you get at the gate you stop. ‘open it’ he instructs. ‘The key is in my right pocket’ you say slowly gesturing to said pocket. ‘Mhm,’ you hear him grunt. You slowly release Bellamy and fish for the key in your jacket’s pocket. You slowly take it out and put it in the keyhole turning it and opening the gate.

The familiar sight of your front garden does nothing to appease you in this situation. Bushes full of colourful flowers hug the narrow path toward the house. The wind catcher hung above your porch clinks melodically as a gust of warm wind catches on it. you take a few more steps on the stone path before you and you hear the gate closing behind you. What once was your safe space now traps you in with a stranger ready to shoot you or worse.

‘Tie the dog to that pole’ he orders you again. On your right, there is a small pole stuck in the ground. He throws a roll of paracord next to you. You don’t move at first. You had never tied Bellamy down before. You can’t even remember when you last put a leash on her. She likes to roam free and run around. The click of the gun behind you tells you that you have no choice. You drop the backpack and start to drag her to the pole. She tries to resist but you shush her and urge her to move. Once you finish tying her you turn towards the stranger. He nods towards the house and you start walking hands raised on either side of your head. Once you open the door he urges you inside.

‘Where do you keep the medicine?’ he grumbles urgently. ’Bathroom.’ you nod to the right of your living room. ‘Go get it!’ you don’t wait around you spring toward the white door. After a couple of minutes grabbing most of what you keep in the over-sink cabinet you emerge hands filled with gauze of all sizes and different bottled pills. You return to find the man placing the girl on the couch. She appears to be asleep. You almost forgot about her. She looks about 8-years-old. Brown hair is chopped short in a pixie cut. She’s wearing blue-washed jeans and a dark green hoodie that’s too big on her.

You watch as he peels the hoodie from her limp body. Underneath she wears a striped t-shirt, but what catches your attention is her left upper arm. Red stained gauze is wrapped around. You are still in your approach keeping a safe distance. ‘Was she bit?’ the words rush out in apprehension. From where he kneels next to her his eyes snap at you. ‘No’ he denies the implication of your words. ‘Put that on the table and go sit by the door’ You do as you're told eyes darting between the girl and the man. You drop everything on the coffee table and go sit by the entrance door hugging your knees. You watch as he works on bandaging the kid. Your eyes are glued to the girl’s arm.

Even though you lived so far out into the wilderness you saw pictures on the internet of bites from the infected. You read the posts of the survivors and heard the news broadcast on all channels. Then everything went quiet. The cable didn’t work and your phone had no signal. You knew shit hit the fan and that it was serious. Then, a few weeks later you saw your closest neighbour, Neil, an elderly farmer who lived about half a mile further up the river’s bank, growling and stumbling trying to catch Bellamy who was running scared towards you. You tried to talk him out of the trance-like state but to no avail. He kept stalking towards you, ready to take a bite out of you. You tried to tell him to keep his distance and warned him that you would protect yourself. The rest was a blur. You faintly remember grabbing the hatchet that you used to cut down logs for your stove. And then the struggle with the man, Bellamy barking, you crying out pleas for him to stop. In the cacophony of noises, you hit him with the blade right in the neck. The next thing you knew, your neighbour lay in a pool of dark blood hatchet still. It took you a while to register what you have done. You just killed a man. You couldn’t forget the way he lay there, on the gravel, hands stretched outwards bloodshot eyes staring emptily at the sky. That was the first time you encountered an infected. You distinctly remember the fear and adrenaline that took hold of you. The feelings that gripped your heart so tight and that made you take a life take over you as you watch the little girl, possibly infected, unconscious but on her way to the same madness that turned Neil into a savage monster all those years ago.                                                 

'She's feverish. You got meds or something to bring the fever down?' his question brings down from your rising panic at the thought of being stuck inside with a possible infected. ‘There should be some anti-inflammatory pills and some antibiotics. They are out of date but they could still work.' He grabs hold of the med kit you brought. He sorts through the drugs checking the expiration dates. When he comes across the antibiotics, he studies the pack carefully, his eyes darting back and forth from the label to the girl. 'How much can I give her?' he asks with a hint of concern his stern facade crumbling slightly.

You look at him unsure what to say. Those pills have been bought before the start of the outbreak. You doubt expired drugs have any effect anymore. You refrain from saying that though. He is stressed, he might take his anger on you. ‘She’s a kid, you mumble, so, about half of each.’ He carefully considers his next action. ‘She’ll need water to take them, you add from down the floor. And some food…’ He nods in understanding. ‘May I?’ you don’t know why you offer this stranger help. First, he disturbs you from catching dinner, next, he threatens to kill you and your dog, now he takes over your house and medicine. But you can recognize the desperation in his look, the way he fumbles with the packaging. He is a parent trying to save his kid. Even though you don’t have any of your own you recognize the parental instincts, the same ones you exert on Bellamy.

He looks at you unsure of what to do. He surrenders in defeat and nods at you to go on. You rise to your full height, which doesn’t add up to much compared to him. You walk past them all the way to the back of the living room where you disappear behind a white door. After a couple minutes, you reemerge from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of steaming vegetable soup you made this morning. You slowly approach the couch watching him for any sign that you might cross a line. Instead of any aggression he takes a step back and allows you to go closer to the girl. You place the bowl and the glass on the coffee table and kneel next to the couch.

The girl opens her eyes and looks at you with distrust. Like father like daughter… you think to yourself. But you try to smile at her try to reassure her. ‘I brought you some soup, love’ you say in your most sincere and kind voice. ‘You must eat a little and then take some pills that will make you feel better’. You try to persuade her. She stares at you for a minute then at the man. They are suspicious of you and they have all the reason to be. You are a stranger to them as much as they are to you. Funny you are in the position to try and win their trust in your own home. You take the spoon you brought for her and dip it in the bowl. You take a spoonful and hover it close to your face blowing a little over it and then you swallow it. You can’t help the little moan of appreciation for your own cooking skills. ‘See? It’s good.’ You look at her with a small smile.

You don’t know where this came from; you blame it on the 6-foot-tall armored stranger whose stare drives daggers at the back of your head and your desire to keep your head on your shoulders and all your blood in your body. You don’t outright hate kids but you were never good around them. With a sigh, she sits upright and takes the spoon from you. She eats slowly. You keep watching her. She is a pretty kid. She has blue eyes and freckles on her small button nose. You wonder if she looks anything like the man behind you. She is pale and sweat collects on her little forehead most likely from her fever. She eats half of the soup you brought her and then turns her gaze towards the man. He hands her the two halves of the pills. She takes them in her small hand and grabs the glass. She hesitates. ‘It’s okay’ you reassure her and with a nod, she puts the half tablets on her tongue following up with large gulps from the glass. She scrunches her little nose in disgust at the chalky taste. ‘Atta girl’ you hear him utter from behind you. ‘Now lay down and rest.' he says to the girl in a stern yet gentle voice. He watches her nod and lie back on the couch her eyes half-lidded. He sighs, 'Good for now. ' he mutters under his breath. His eyes are fixed on her as he gestures to you. 'Come with me.' You rise from the floor and follow him outside the front door.

He leads you outside. When you cross the threshold, he takes a deep breath and a look of relief washes over his stern features. He gestures for you to sit on the front porch with him. 'We need to talk...' 'Yeah' you say crossing your arms defensively over your chest and standing as far away as the length of your porch allows. you take a moment to study him as he fixes you with a cold stare. You notice the many pockets on his vest and belt. A patch on his chest reads S.A.S. He's ex-military, you muse. His uniform makes much more sense now. But the mask still unnerves you.

He leans against one of the wooden porch support beams right hand hovering on the pistol holster. You think it's an act to intimidate you, to remind you that he is still armed and ready to strike you down in your own home.  You stare at him a little defiantly. You’ll be damned before you let this weirdo intimidate you on your turf. He studies you from head to boots and back up. You sigh and square your shoulders showing him you are not afraid of him. ‘I’ve been watching you.’ He tells you in a matter-of-fact tone. You try to suppress the surprise on your face. You look down at his boots avoiding his icy gaze.

He’s been stalking you, and the realization dawns on you. You didn’t even notice his presence around the house. Stupid, you think to yourself, I’m growing complacent. But not even Bellamy caught his smell and she usually barks when someone or something comes close to the house. But earlier at the lake, he took you both by surprise. He’s good at keeping his presence concealed, you have to give it to him. You nod to yourself in understanding. He probably knows the layout of your house by now, he knows you are alone, and he waited for you to be outside and ambush you. You start imagining all the horrible things he could have done to you. But no, he instead approached you, gun pointed at you, nevertheless, when he could have already killed you and taken over your house by now. You hum and make eye contact with him.

‘Why keep me alive then?’ you ask him without beating around the bush. You study his mannerisms trying to catch something, anything to prove you he’s human. But he’s as unreadable as a statue. His gaze remains fixed on you, unblinking and stoic. You feel him studying you, taking in every detail of your person. He seems intent on reading into your every move.

In an even tone, he answers, 'Because you’re not a threat.’ His response catches you off guard, ego a little bruised at that, but you can’t argue with his logic. If he wanted to, he could have killed you by now, that’s for sure. You remain silent for a moment, processing his response. ‘But that doesn’t mean I trust you.’ He adds kicking off the beam and taking a step closer to you. He looks down at you tilting his head a little like a bird of prey watching a mouse, waiting for it to give chase and make the hunt more fun. You don’t give in to the urge to run inside and hide in your bedroom. Instead, you take a step towards him and look up at him ‘Because you need me’ you speak quietly. You can imagine a raised brow under that mask. You smile in triumph; even though he acts tough he needs help and all the intimidating façade was in a desperate attempt to get it.

‘I get it’ you continue having him figured out. ‘Your kid is sick and out there dangers are lurking at every turn. You need a place to stay until she gets better.’ You finish voicing your theory on why he’s really here having this conversation with you. His eyes closed in defeat. Gotcha, you smile even more widely at your deduction. ‘You can stay, you say as you turn and walk down the three steps of your porch heading towards the gate. ‘On one condition, you add stopping in your track. You turn fully towards him and he watches you curiously as if you’d have any power to demand him anything. ‘No harm comes to me or my dog’ you say remembering his earlier threats of him offing you both. ‘Do we have a deal?’ it’s not unreasonable, though it irks you that you have to bargain for your safety with a stranger. ‘Deal.’ He says in his usual gruff voice nodding to you in sign of respect for your demand.

‘Good’ you say as you stalk off towards where Bellamy lays muzzled and tied like a prisoner of war. You free her and she jumps at you happy to be in your proximity. She must have been worried sick here all alone. Poor thing. You then go to the gate and slide the too-large bolts meant to keep any unwanted guests outside. Or inside in your case. ‘And to think nothing interesting ever happens around her, right, Bell?’ your rhetorical question is met with a bark of agreement.

[witchersmistress]

Home Sweet Home

this is a picture of a resturant from the French Quarter, found it on google :)

Summary: Another dual pov from both New Orleans present day and New Orleans 1865 from both Syverson and Aurora their back story

Permission is not given to copy my work in any shape, way or form. i'll haunt you for the rest of your days if you do K?

Trigger Warnings: Blood, violence, bodily harm/ injury, death. an 800 pound alligator named Old Louise, resentment towards me for what you are about to read.

Word count: 3K

 New Orleans 2023

 Aurora’s  POV   

I couldn't stop thinking about that interaction. I was sitting down at my laptop when there was a knock on my door “Come in!” I yelled. Mama J walked in “ Hi sugah, my granddaughter was telling me that you are looking for an old New Orleans home” I nodded, she leaned against the door frame. “Well sugah, my family has been here for over 150 years, my daddy used to tend garden's  for a number of homes in his younger years, tell me what you know and I'll see if I can help” I smiled excitedly. She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed as I dug out the drawings I had and began to explain my dreams to her. 

She never questioned anything, just giving me a small smile and looking at the pictures i've found on the web, that looked similar. " There was a spiral staircase that led up to a library that was filled with so many books' '' I told her as I scrolled to find the picture. She let out a light hearted laugh " Child, I know that house, c'mere" she got up and I followed out of the room and down the stairs into the sitting room.

She pulled an old photo album off the bookcase and took a seat on the couch. "Sit child, let me tell you a story" I sat next to her tucking my legs underneath Mr as she flipped through the book and stopped at this gorgeous house. Mama told me as she continued to flip through the pages. She has pictures of the ballroom, the stairs in the foyer of the house, the gorgeous gardening wing and the spiral staircase.

She let out a laugh " look at your grinning like a possum" she flipped to another page and showed the image of a man  in a military uniform, the picture had aged well even with some watermarks. She pointed at him "This fine young man was Captian James Logan Syverson, of the 1st Louisiana cavalry" she flipped to another page of him and a young woman together, she was sitting on a swing, her hair obscured her face, but the smile on his face said it all.

"She's pretty as a peach isn't she? That's the only photo they ever managed to capture of her. She shied away from the camera. She never liked to be on film." I cocked an eyebrow at her " how did you know this?" She flipped a few more pages in the book and landed on the staff of the house and she pointed to two of the ladies in the back " that there is my great great  grandmother Arlene, and her daughter Charlotte. The story of Syverson and Ms. Hathaway has been passed down in my family." She smiled a sad smile. "They first met in 1860, it was a founders day party, Captain Syverson walked in that room and was blown away by her from the moment their eyes met. He began courting her in 1862. This house was completed in 1863, he built it for her, their future home." She continued, flipping back to the picture of them. " She sadly passed away in the early months of 1865. Some say she was killed as an act of revenge against Syverson, others say she got sick and her body couldn't take it. They were to be married in that spring" 

She clicked her tongue, closing the photo album, placing a hand on top and one on her heart. "Logan was unable to set foot in that house again. The house stayed in the family. I believe it's currently owned by his grandson, that handsome man who climbed up on your balcony this morning, that cheeky boy" she placed the book in my lap as she stood.

"Where was Ms. Hathaway buried?" Fiddling with the locket around my neck. " Her family has a family plot in Lafayette Cemetery. The first one, they have a plaque with her name on it, but I doubt she is there." I turned my head with a quizzical expression, she tutted me several times " sweet child, she is buried with Syverson. No doubt in my mind, he has the money and the military on his side. Even in death he couldn't let her go" the sound of footsteps had me turning in my seat. It was her granddaughter, Emily, she was holding a house phone in her hand, " Excuse me gram but auntie is on the phone for you" extending the phone out to her. 

Looking at the photo album. I kept coming back to that picture of them. Running my fingers over the edge of the photo, suddenly I'm transported to another time. I'm the one sitting in the seat of that swing and I cannot stop laughing at Syverson. He took the two ropes and twisted me around and let them go so I would unravel with a squeal “Logan” I called out to him, he stopped the swing from spinning as he looked at me with so much love, my heart beat erratically as he leaned in closer.. “Rory child” Mama had called me, I shook my head and was brought back to her living room. “ Hmm '' I hummed at her, she was smiling like a fool, “ I just got off the phone with my sister, Freya, she said the Syverson boy just left and he'd be by to pick you up and show you his family home. He will be here in about 10 minutes” putting the photo album down on the coffee table. I bolted up the stairs to put my bag together and get my camera. 

Syverson’s POV

I didn't even get the chance  to knock on her front door before it opened “Logan what do I owe this pleasure ?” Freya said, she looked over at Gus and her eyes narrowed at him. Looking back over my way with one eyebrow cocked, holding up the strands of her hair “ I think i found her” her eyes widened “Say no more get in here” we made our way into her house, to her sun porch out back, where old Louise was out back basking in the sun, i grabbed a raw chicken leg out of his bowl and threw it out to him “ Here you go big fella” he growled as he chomped down on it, bone crunching and all. Gus shuddered at the sound and turned away.  She gestured for us to sit, she placed the strands of hair in a bowl of water and mixed them in, before she stood and went over to her bookcase and pulled out a small hope chest, and pulled out the few remaining things from Aurora, her favorite perfume, a couple of her hair pins, i could have sat for hours and wa\tched her pin her hair and lastly her silver hair brush.

She pulled a few strands from the brush  and mixed it in with the other strands, she mumbled over the water and smoke started to rise as Freya spoke in a language I did not understand. I watched the two strands of smoke curled and intertwined with one another. At the top of each smoke spiral was a visual of both Aurora’s past and present. Freya hummed as she waved her hands over the bowl and the 2 pictures became one. “Do you remember the night she died, Logan?” 

I nodded my head, it feels like it was just yesterday when she died in my arms. “I’ll remember that day for the rest of my life” she nodded and leaned back in her seat.

New Orleans 1865

It was the end of the winter season, spring was coming and soon with it my marriage to Aurora. Making my way into the sitting room, I saw her in her rocking chair, working on her needle point, her bottom lip twitching as she worked on her pattern. I placed a few more pieces of kindling into the fire, before kneeling in front of her, she gave me a small laugh and smile running one of her hands through my hair before going back to her work. I laid my head in her lap as she continued to work, humming softly. Her stomach let out a loud growl, “ I’ll get dinner started” she said as she put down her needle point. She stood up “I don't think so darlin,i can get you dinner, you just rest, you've been running non stop these last few weeks, you need to rest” she nodded up at me before she settled back down again. 

Making my way to the back of the house and into the kitchen, I found Ms. Charlotte turned to face me. “Good evening Captain, soup is almost ready."I nodded at her, “ Would mind so terribly to bring her a cup of tea, she needs to calm her nerves” she nodded and walked out the kitchen. I had finished grabbing all the silverware, when I heard a blood curdling scream come from the front of the room, dropping the ladle, I grabbed my gun and went racing towards the screaming

I skidded to a halt upon entering the sitting room, two men dressed in all black had, Charlotte and Aurora. “ Ahhh” a familiar voice sounded from my right, I turned to see who it was, it was John Davenport, Caroline’s  husband. But that was impossible, he was imprisoned to be hung for the murder of his boss

“I see the confusion written on your face, old sport” he sneered at me. “ I should be in jail but a strange man came to me with an offer, your life for mine” he strutted around the room as Aurora struggled in the man's hold, I narrowed my eyes at her begging her to relax, she looked at me and settled. “ You see Logan, you made some very powerful enemies who would do anything to see you crumble. So come to my surprise to see that you were taken here with Ms. Aurora, you made it all to easy to bring you down" he had a wicked gleam to his face as he twirled a small hunting knife in his hand " you really are a bastard John" Aurora spit at him, he walked over and squished her cheeks together " That pretty little mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days" she wrench her head from his grasp and gave him a hard stare. He turned back to face me “But I am prepared to offer you a deal, I’ll kill Aurora, which is a better fate than what he has in store for her."

 He nodded at his men who started to wrestle the girls but Charlotte broke free, the guy went to grab her and Aurora stuck her foot out tripping the bastard “Get out of here Charlotte” she yelled as she took off out the door and into the night. 

I drew my gun to fight with John but he was much quicker than I. He had an arm wrapped around my neck and he had brought me to my knees and forced my gaze on my sweet girl. She was breathing heavily, “It's ok Logan, everything is going to be ok” I fought against John’s hold but it was no use, I couldn't get free,  I struggled against his grip " you'll live to regret this John."  I seethed. He threw his head back and laughed " It's not me, you need to fear Logan, it's August.. Do you remember him?"I remembered a Union General named August. He was a ruthless and a cold blooded killer. I saw him tear a man apart on the battlefield, his reputation precedes him. Very few men who went up against him lived to tell the tale, even then none of them in the end made any lick of sense, they talked about his glowing red eyes and his fangs. He was indeed a monster. A few select men, myself included, were tasked with disposing of him. We broke into his home, others looted and damaged his home, me and 2 other people stayed focused on the mission and it was to find him. Realization and terror must have been showing on my face, because John laughed. “Good you remember him, because he  never forgot you and he has been patiently waiting for a chance to get back at you.” he snapped his fingers and his goons, shuffled about and sandwiched Aurora between them.

 “You know old sport  i hate for it to come to this but you've left me no choice”he snapped fingers and the one of the me, withdrew his knife, with a singular thrust, he shoved the blade into her stomach and up into her ribs “NOOOOOO” i roared and tried to get to her as she dropped to her knees, john released me as i raced over to her and cradled her in my arms, placing my hands on her wound “Breathe for me, i know it hurts.." her hand cupped my cheek, " it… doesn't hurt Logan" a blood started to drip out of her mouth.

John let out a sadistic chuckle as he stood up, “ this might work out even better than the boss wanted” he turned his back to me and shout as we walked out “It was good to see you old boy, but i have bigger fish to fry this evening”

It took all my strength to not get up off that floor and go racing after him. “Aurora” a feminine voice yelled, Arlene and her daughter Charlotte made their way in through   the door with a younger man behind them. Charlotte’s eyes locked on us and she let out a gasp as she sank to the floor and the gentlemen behind her caught her. Arlene stood there, eyes wide and unshed tears shining in them. A soft touch on my face drew me back to reality, i looked down at her pale face, the blood staining her lips and chin. Her vibrant green irises seem to bore into me as she spoke

" don't you dare lose yourself, Logan Syverson. Don't you give into the darkness" she cupped my cheek, I pressed my hand to her wound, but I knew it was useless. With a nod of her head, Arlene and Charlotte came in closer. I let out a low growl " Logan '' Aurora scolded " enough they are going to help you, they are friends' ' I nodded at her, tears blurring my vision, she let out a sharp breath. 

 I turned to look at Charlotte but she just shook her head, turning back to face Aurora, she grabbed my hand and squeezed " there are some many things I want to tell you Logan, but from the moment I met you, I knew you'd be my undoing, but I didn't care, what was going to happen, I just wanted to love you while I could. I love you so much Logan Syverson, don't you ever forget that. We will meet again of that I am sure" I brought her lips to mine for one last kiss, when our lips connected, something in the atmosphere shifted, I pulled away and looked into her green eyes, " I'll find you again, no matter how long it takes" i assured her,  her eyes shined with the unshed tears, as the light faded from her eyes and the closed one final time. I pulled into my chest and roared in anguish.

New Orleans 2023

Syverson pov

My eyes shot open, a fresh tear rolling down my face, that Freya promptly swiped up and dropped into the bowl. A shiver rolled through my body as I watched the smoke grow and turn into a vision of Aurora and I walking in 1864. My heart swelled at the idea. "Congratulations Logan, she came back to you" she got up and grabbed her phone. "Emily, is mama available?" she asked. My heart soared when she finally came back to me.  I’ll be damned  sure  to give  her  a  spanking for taking so long, the damn brat that she is. Freya  chatted away with  her sister, I looked over at Gus whose eyes were firmly placed on old louise. “Gus' ' i said “He isn't going to attack you, he is just a big puppy' ' his eyes bugged out of his head' ' A PUPPY?!?! SYVERSON, HE IS A 800 POUND ALLIGATOR, WITH 80 TEETH WAITING TO TEAR YOU APART!!” Old Louise moved his head in his direction and opened his jaws. Gus jumped back in his seat “ Actually Gus, darling” Freya chimed in cause the poor fucker to jump out of his skin, “He wouldnt eat you right away, he drowned you but since you are so large he would stuff you under water for a few weeks, letting your meat and bones soften before ripping you to pieces to eat” he turned a shade of grey and louise, the cheeky thing snapped his jaws closed, sending Gus over his chair and out the door like a bat out of hell. 

I dropped in my seat in a fit of laughter as Freya walked over to Louise and gave him a scratch on his chin before crawling back into the water. “How is the old man hanging in there?” I asked her as we watched him swim away, she gave a heavy sigh. “He is good, getting up there in years, but still hanging tough” she watched the space he was for a few more minutes before she spoke “ I just off the phone with my sister, Jezabel, she was telling me that Ms. Rory as she called her, she remembers the family home you built her and like to see it” i shot up from my seat “ Relax sugah, i told her that you'd be there in 10 minutes for her” i ran out of the sun room, i turned back to thank her and she shooed me away “Go on get outta her go get your girl Syverson” she said with a laugh, i was down those front steps and into my truck with spinning tires and throwing gavel as i hauled ass back to the French Quarter.

[dracomort]

loved your new chapter! I’m a bit curious about tom’s characterisation in alley cat because he feels very different from travelling cabinet tom. While they’re both fundamentally the same person, alley cat Tom feels…well, like an alley cat lmao- harsh and abrasive at best. Meanwhile, travelling cabinet Tom, despite having more horcruxes, feels…refined almost? Like he squashed all the alley cat tendencies, albeit poorly, but still. Is this difference there because Draco is different in both these stories ( spoiled and easy going in alley cat, traumatised and aged in travelling cabinet ) or is it just that Tom is older in the cabinet series? Or is it cause cabinet Tom is actively trying to include and keep Draco in his life while alley cat Tom is…er…doing what he’s doing?

Interesting question!

I don't have one consistent interpretation of Tom across all my fics. I see every fic as a new opportunity to explore a different reading of him. We see only glimpses of him in Canon, and there are many ways to interpret him from those glimpses. Sometimes I read takes on him that I don't personally agree with, but I can 100% see as substantiated by his Canon words and actions.

On the specific in-universe circumstances that lead to AC and TTC Tom's differences, TTC!Tom has experienced certain things and crossed certain moral boundaries that Alley Cat!Tom hasn't. He killed an innocent 14-year-old girl, murdered his family, created multiple Horcruxes and lived through WWII before we even meet him at the start of the fic. He's also an independent adult and has been for about a year. He doesn't care at all about what happened to Myrtle, but it's (fleetingly) implied that murdering his family had upset him. Tom is generally a self-destructive person who pursues things he wants even at great personal cost, and he hasn't had Draco to redirect him during those teenage years.

AC Tom, in contrast, has committed fewer heinous crimes and was able to shelter at the Riddles' house during the later war years. While he does kill his uncle, to him, it's closer to euthanasia or an honour killing, and mostly because he sees him as the most suitable victim for creating his Horcrux. Still terrible, and actually committed at a younger age than TTC Tom, but we're yet to see a similar kind of criminal escalation from him. He also has a few real friends, which TTC Tom never had. To me, the escalation is the most dangerous part of Tom's trajectory.

As you mentioned, these versions of Draco are quite different too. AC Draco is spoilt and pampered but also constrained by his family's expectations, TTC Draco is, in effect, a guilt-ridden, war-traumatised orphan with this trauma being directly the fault of a future version of Tom (not that Tom feels any responsibility for that lol). He's also 2.5 years younger than Tom—significant, considering their ages when they met. AC Tom and Draco are peers and treat each other as such, whereas in some ways, TTC Draco treats Tom as something of a senior/authority figure/mentor. Not to a significant extent, but he looks up to him in a way that AC Draco doesn't. TTC Draco goes straight from being a school kid, living with his parents (and... Voldemort) to living with Tom, in Tom's flat, in a completely alien world. The overlap between Daddy Issues and Draco attaching himself to a distant, cold, authoritative person like Tom was on my mind when I wrote that fic lol.

Draco holds more social and financial power in AC than Tom does, while that dynamic is flipped in TTC. Not having power makes Tom a more prickly, unstable person. We can see in Canon that when things are under control, Voldemort is relaxed, playful, and smug; when they are not, he swiftly becomes erratic. When TTC Draco knows more than Tom, it makes him crabby (pointing out he could use a finding spell in Bluebeard, speaking French to Cedrella in The Diadem), but this rarely occurs. In AC, Tom's constantly on his back foot in a world he's still adjusting to. TTC Tom can show a certain face to Draco, but AC Tom showed his real face at eleven. There are no takebacks.

[sweetestpopcorn]

Hi, I've started reading your work 'the king of the stepstones' and I love it, jealous Caraxes is brilliant.

I've enjoyed reading your thoughts on canon on your blog, so I was wondering what you think Rhaenyra's thoughts were regarding her children with Harwin? As in, do you think she had any internal struggle with birthing bastards, and why would she risk having more than one if that was the case? Do you think there was political motive to have heirs or were they not planned? I wonder if her ladies, such as the strong sisters, knew if they were harwin's lol.

Hi there ❤️ and sorry for this delay.

Thank you so much for your beyond lovely words 🥰 we stan jealous Caraxes 😂

Art by @ammmyturtle see the completed piece here

I am actually working on the next chapter of "The King of the Stepstones" as I type this - or in between - and that's going to be the next update before the main story 😊

Answering your question and there are several parts to it so I will just begin with the simplest and easiest to answer and go from there to more complex and less based on facts and more on my opinion.

I think people overlook or don't remember - or get asoiaf canon mixed up with lizard show canon - that Rhaenyra married Laenor in 114 AC and in the same year Jacaerys was born. We don't have a date as to when the two of them were wed but we know that Jacaerys was born towards the end of the year. This to say that she did not have more than three months from the moment she married Laenor to the moment she got pregnant.

Why does this matter? Well because clearly I would argue it makes for very little room to have an interpretation that Rhaenyra had Jacaerys for political reasons -> people not thinking she was barren and so she could give Westeros an heir to follow her. If that was her reasoning, for once she would have plenty of time, it was not that common for women to become pregnant so quickly - at most this took three months and likely it was less than that - her own grandmother Alyssa had been married to Baelon for three years when her father King Viserys was born, and between Viserys and Daemon there were another four years. Secondly, again if "politics" was her reason it would have been smarter to choose someone more similar to Laenor Velaryon as the father of her children. Thirdly, when have we ever seen Rhaenyra care that much about politics? The answer is we haven't. Yes, she knew how to deal with lords for the most part (when she did not let herself be led away by her hot temper), but Rhaenyra for the most part did what she wanted. Let's not forget she refused her marriage to Laenor at first and it took a threat of disinheritance to get her to agree. Let's not also forget she wed and became pregnant by Daemon not three months after Laena and Laenor died, which said nothing good about either of them. As Viserys himself announced this action by them was an insult to their spouses' memory, to the memory of her children and the future king's father on paper. Later on during the Dance, Rhaenyra also refuses Corlys notion to make peace and to try to wed Aegon III to Jaehaera to unite their houses.

There are countless other examples but these alone speak volumes against the type of person Rhaenyra was, and such person was certainly not a political genius that did anything because of duty. Actually, the contrary is true, she did almost nothing (if anything) because of duty.

Rhaenyra is described as bold, bright, precocious, stubborn, and proud. Nowhere is she described as honourable or dutiful and I have not a notion from where this idea that she did things for "politics" came from but it's honestly time it's put to rest because it has not a leg, not even a toothpick, to stand on.

Rhaenyra did mostly what she wanted and what served her own interests and desires.

Adding to this we also have significant evidence that when she married Laenor something was already happening between herself and Harwin Strong, we can discuss what that was and how far the two of them had gotten to that point, but something was happening. Not only did he wear her favour but he got his elbow shattered and a broken collarbone courtesy of Criston Cole who she dismissed the morning of her wedding and who turned to Alicent Hightower - yes, same woman who once called him out for being a creep to Rhaenyra when she was about 12-13. According to Mushroom, Harwin and Rhaenyra had slept together the night before after Criston refused her V-card and Harwin happily accepted it. According to Eustace she was the one who refused Criston's advances and some of the reasons for this were that he was a man of the Kingsguard already married to his duty - a problem Harwin did not have - and that he wanted her to become his wife - while Harwin seemed willing to just have her for his lover. According to Eustace again nothing ever happened between her and Harwin BUT - here comes that but - he later claims Daemon saw Harwin as competition for Rhaenyra's affections. And if you want to be quick to dismiss Eustace, he's also the one who paints Rhaenyra and Daemon's relationship as loving for the vast majority of it, Mushroom only does so doing the Dance for #reasons aka forgot to keep up his lie and downplay Rhaenyra's feelings for Daemon.

It's not hard to read between the lines here I would argue.

This all to say, no, there's no evidence that they were a "political motive to have heirs". Maybe eventually they could have been, but Jace was simply conceived far too quickly and that kind of thinking was not in Rhaenyra's nature nor a behaviour she displayed.

As to how she might have felt, I don't think she had too many issues with it. Her marriage to Laenor was something she was forced to do, and it was clear from the start between them that she would do her and he would do him. Hells, as I have said again and again and as it is written in the books black on white, they did not even bother to pretend to consummate their marriage - no there was no bedding ceremony - and the two were barely physically in the same space. Harwin was, as Mushroom describes, her comfort, and in the absence of a proper husband, he would do the job at least from inside the bedchamber.

While internally I think we can speculate that part of Rhaenyra was afraid of being caught because the consequences would be absolutely dire for her, she was the heir to the Iron Throne at the peak of Targaryen Power. Rhaenyra displays most of the same attitude as Daemon and other Targaryens had: the notion that the two of them were more god than man/woman, something almost all of Westeros believed in, and that they could do no wrong. And this was what Rhaenyra did when someone questioned her sons' paternity, she would deny it point blank and then punish the person for putting her into question and also why she kept having children with Harwin Strong. Because she could. Her father had her back. Laenor was happy to name them. Corlys shut the h:ll up and smiled, and that was that.

Now, did she liked the situation she was in? I think we can also speculate that no, she didn't. As written in the books Rhaenyra "had her own ideas about who she wanted to marry", and from someone who had the Rogue Prince courting her and asking to wed her, to having most bachelors in Westeros doing so, to being forced to marry an openly gay man and being given no say in the matter, this is quite the fall and certainly not what she wished or envisioned for her life. Hells, no woman in Westeros would want this situation. Most women in today's world wouldn't want this situation let alone someone like Rhaenyra who lived in Westeros. She was clearly not too happy with this life, and she was quick to jump into the life she did want with Daemon, and indeed the most boring yet I would argue happy period of her life was during her marriage with him prior to the Dance.

I have no doubt that she loved her sons, however, the three "Velaryon" princes as she describes both them and Aegon and Viserys as her strength. All of them, as I have talked about at lengths in previous posts, came from a very happy household and loved each other. Aegon was said to "idolise" - yes this exact word sorry if canon is hurting anyone - his three older brothers, and he was extremely close with Viserys, with whom he shared everything.

Last point, from which I also have no doubt, is that absolutely the "Strong" sisters knew 😂 because everyone plus their dog knew. I am kidding, but given that they were Rhaenyra's ladies and Harwin's sisters, it's very likely they were in on it, and if they weren't, that they could add 2+2.

Sorry about this delay. I swear that when I get to answer the asks 90% of you either no longer follow me or are no longer in the fandom so I am here with my cricket noises but hopefully someone likes my rants.

All the best!