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succubusphan · 2 years

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A Rose of Winter - Chapter 10

Summary: All Daniel wanted to do was escape the stifling life as a Stark of Winterfell and travel the world. Between the looming threat North of The Wall and the den of lions in the capital, he unexpectedly finds love in the midst of a war set to tear Westeros apart. Caught between loyalty to his family and duty, he is torn in a thousand directions that all point to one man: Philip Flowers.

Rating: E (There are only a few smut scenes but it's an M for battles, war, and other adult topics)

Tags/warnings: I removed most triggers (no R or SA, no minors involved in sex, no gore). It does include: Deaths either written without details or in a poetic way if it's an important character (Dan and Phil, Ghost and Balerion will live but everyone else is fair game). Strangers to lovers, Slow Burn, missing each other. The prophecies and stories foreshadowed are fulfilled, a satisfying ending to the entire story without plot holes. Extreme canon divergence. Dan and Phil are not replacing characters, they were written in. GAME OF THRONES AU

Author's Note: This is my OSPBB 2022, Couldn't have done it without my betas @effingmeteors and @filisaceaf.

Word Count: Each chapter will be around 15k and have at least one Dan or Phil pov. The total wc is about 210k.

Read on Ao3

DAN

Robbs encampment, travelling northeast to The Twins, Westeros.

The meeting with two of the Frey sons was quite interesting. They seemed to be… not the smartest of the bunch, but intelligence was not a requirement it seemed. They only needed to get Robb to agree to the terms their Lord father had demanded or leave.

They encountered a problem soon enough. Walder Frey wanted Dan to marry one of his daughters in Robb’s stead, given that he was not the heir to Winterfell, nor a Lord, offering Uncle Edmure was accepted readily enough. The secret reason for Dan refusing to marry any of the girls was that he wasn’t attracted to women and even though men marrying each other was accepted all over Westeros, Walder Frey was known for not being so lenient. If Dan set a foot in his castle and he realised this, the chances of him keeping his head on his shoulders were not in his favour.

Harrenhal was also a topic of contention but Robb relented easily enough, after all they were fighting for the North; and Harrenhal was in ruins.

A public apology to each woman in House Frey was also agreed upon, as well as the family staying at The Twins for a fortnight after the celebration.

And so the deal was struck.

---

To everyone’s dismay the trip to The Twins took longer than expected due to the poor weather conditions. With winter slowly making its way south, the rains were increasing, the roads turned to mud, the horses had to tread carefully and the carriages got stuck along the way.

But not all that time was wasted, it allowed them to quietly celebrate the good news. Dan didn’t remember when was the last time he had forgotten about the horrors of war, or - in fact, he did remember, it was with Phil. He wished he could send a raven to King’s Landing and let him know that he was going to be an uncle.

If he closed his eyes he could still see Robb kneeling in front of Talisa, his arms wrapped around her and his face pressed to her stomach, whispering something Dan couldn’t quite catch.

He’d been flustered to witness such an intimate moment but Talisa had smiled at him and extended her hand, inviting him over and whispering into his ear that she was carrying the first of the next generation of Stark children. Dan had hugged her tightly, congratulating her before looking down at his older brother with shining eyes. He looked so proud, so happy and in love. That baby breathed new life into Robb. Now he had something to fight even harder for, a future alongside Talisa and their child; children, if Robb had anything to say about it.

Even their mother was happy for them. She still didn’t fully approve of Talisa but Dan suspected she would never consider a woman good enough for Robb. At least Dan was lucky enough to not be in that position since she had liked Phil well enough.

---

In one of their last strategic meetings, Robb asked Dan and their mother for advice. He knew that attacking Casterly Rock was a bold move and if he were to fail, they would have the same fate as their father, so he asked them what he should do.

Dan stayed silent at first but when their mother said “Let’s show them what it feels like to lose what you love,” he knew that she was right. They had sacrificed a lot, they had lost a lot and it had all started because of the intrigue at King's Landing and the Lannisters’ betrayal.

“It could be the end of our house,” she said, looking at Dan.

“So be it,” he replied.

“Arya could still be alive but she never made it to Jon. He would have sent a raven if she had. He has yet to reply to any of our ravens and our home is in ruins. You need to ride north and look for your sister and your brother, have them help you to bring Winterfell back to life. You can’t do that if Walder Frey takes your head.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Dan said, but felt Robb’s hand on his shoulder.

“You know you can’t come with us and we need a home to return to; all of us. Find Arya and Jon, see that they are safe and take care of Winterfell for me. I want my children to grow in our home and have a quiet life. Will you do this for me, little brother?”

Dan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He knew that Winterfell needed a lot of love and work after what Theon -

He didn’t want to think about it. He would take it upon himself to lay his father’s bones and Bran’s body to rest in the Crypts, where they belonged. It seemed it was finally time to go back home.

“Yes, I will.”

“Swear it,” Robb demanded.

Dan kneeled in front of him. “I swear it, Your Grace.”

“Thank you,” he said, kneeling and wrapping him in a tight hug.

TYRION

“I beg your pardon, My Lady,” Tyrion said, promptly turning around right as he saw Shae was helping Sansa change. He shouldn’t have walked in without a proper announcement.

“That is alright, Lord Tyrion, I was just trying on a gown for King Joffrey’s wedding,” she said.

Behind her, Shae was sending him a nasty look while she put Sansa’s hair in order.

“Yes,” he said awkwardly. “It should be quite the wedding.” If he was honest with himself, he was feeling nauseous at the prospect of having to marry the girl and he knew that she would feel exactly the same. “I need to speak with you, My Lady.”

“Of course,” Sansa said, as she held her gown closed with both hands.

“... Alone,” he said.

“Why do you need to speak to her alone?” asked Shae without even trying to hide the casual rapport.

“Shae,” Sansa chastised her. “I apologise, Lord Tyrion, she’s not from here.”

Tyrion smiled at them both and nodded, stepping aside so that Shae could leave the room, but Sansa continued.

“But I do trust her, even if she tells me not to.”

Tyrion groaned inwardly. “Sometimes, we think we may want to hear something and it’s only afterwards that we realise that we wished we would have heard it in entirely different circumstances,” he said, trying to convince Shae to leave for her own good.

“She’s alright - really,” Sansa insisted and Tyrion had no choice but to close the door.

“This is awkward, and I assure you I regret this as much as you will. Please know that I had no part in this decision.”

“What decision, Lord Tyrion?”

“We are to be married - soon.”

Sansa’s lips quivered. “H-How soon?”

“Before the King’s wedding. My father commands it and try as hard as I have, he is not letting us choose.” Tyrion cleared his throat, his eyes welling up with tears when he saw Sansa’s rolling down her cheeks. “I am so sorry, Lady Sansa.”

“Please, leave us.”

He nodded and exited her chambers.

That night, Tyrion had the incredibly difficult task of apologising to Shae, of calming her down as she cried and assuring her that nothing would change between them. His wedding to Sansa had nothing to do with love; it was a matter of duty. He repeated, once again, that he could not leave everything behind and flee with her, but he was starting to second guess that decision. Would it really be so bad? This life was all he ever knew, but Shae had been the only woman - the only person, to love him, just as he was. He wished he could live a long and happy life at her side where nobody knew who they were.

MARGAERY

As soon as she received Joffrey’s invitation, Margaery put on her most form fitting gown and reapplied flower oils between her breasts before sauntering through the Red Keep on her way to The King’s Chambers. One of the Gold Cloaks knocked on the door for her. “Lady Tyrell, My King.”

“Send her in,” he said and the door opened to reveal him once again wearing Lannister gold in a boring style and his petulant smile. He was playing around with a crossbow.

That made her a bit nervous, but instead of moving away from the path of the weapon, she looked around the room, observing the gold bed they were bound to have their wedding night in and all the tasteless gold decorations around it with a big smile. She wondered who picked every item in it. Had it been Joffrey, or Robert, his pretend father? “You called for me, Your Grace?”

“I'm leaving on a hunting trip. I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed before I left.”

“That's very thoughtful, Your Grace,” she said. “I have everything I could want.”

“Good! How are you finding life from the Capital? Must be quite a change after Renly's camp.”

“A welcome one!” She sat at his side. “A military encampment is no place for a Lady.”

“He was a traitor. It is curious that you were there at all.”

“I tried to do my duty as a sister in law, support my dear brother and assist his wedding. Nothing more. I had my hesitations, but how could I abandon my own family?”

“What hesitations?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to speak ill of the dead, Your Grace.”

“You think one ought to speak kindly of a traitor merely because he's had a sword

through his heart?” Joffrey snapped, his fingers moving on the crossbow.

Margaery smiled deeply and caressed the weapon until her fingers were touching Joffrey’s softly. “No, I do beg your pardon. The subtleties of politics are often lost on me.”

He looked into her eyes before eyeing her body. “Did he ever touch you?”

“No, Your Grace. He and my brother were very close and I don't believe he was interested in the company of women.”

“He was a known degenerate. I've considered making his perversion punishable by death,” he said.

She played along knowing it was a trap. If she were to defend Loras, she would condemn them both. “As is your right. You must do whatever you need to do,” Margaery said. “You are the King.”

“Yes,” he said proudly. “Yeah, I am.” He lifted the crossbow and showed her it. “Do you like it? I just had it made, probably one of the finest weapons in the Seven Kingdoms.”

“It's beautiful. Will you show me how it works?” She said, trying to sound excited.

He nodded and stood. “It's a new design much easier to load; there's no crank. You use this lever, pull the string both goes here and then you just aim and -” He shot an arrow through a boar that hung from the wall.

She squealed in fake delight, clapping. “Would you take me hunting sometime?” She lowered her arms slowly as she stood and gave him a submissive look. “I - forgive me, Your Grace. I know hunting is not a place for a woman. My father would never let me.”

“You no longer belong to him. Do you want to hold it?”

“May I?” She smiled. “Please!” Margaery stood close to him and let him guide her hands and arms on the Crossbow, letting him lean closer to her, almost close enough to press their cheeks together as he looked into the mirror. They looked good together. “I imagine it must be so exciting to squeeze your finger here and watch something die over there.”

“Would you do it? Could you kill something?” He asked, sounding way too happy to discuss death for Margaery’s taste.

“I don't know, Your Grace. Do you think I could?” She wondered if there would come a time when she had to use this weapon on Joffrey to save her own life.

“Yes.”

“Would you like to watch me?”

He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her close to him and breathed in her scent. “Yes,” he whispered.

SANSA

Sansa rubbed the tears rolling down her cheek and rested her head on Margaery’s shoulder. “Growing up all I ever wanted was to run away, to leave Winterfell and come here. I was so - stupid.” She hiccuped. “I was just a stupid little girl with a stupid dream who never learned to be happy with the life she had.”

Margaery stood with her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “You’re not stupid. You’re a survivor, a warrior,” she said. “Come, let’s walk down to the beach. The sea is so calming.”

Allowing Margaery to guide her, she walked with her new friend and listened to her advice. Even if she was only one year older than Sansa, Margaery was so much wiser than her.

“When I first saw you in the Throne Room, I remember thinking that I had never seen anyone look so unhappy. I want very much for you to be happy, and so does my grandmother.”

Margaery stopped and cut one of the beautiful red roses growing in their garden. “You would have been happy at Highgarden, but women in our position must make the best out of our circumstances,” she said, giving the rose to Sansa, which made her smile even if it was for a brief moment. Then they continued walking, linking arms with Sansa.

“How can I make the best out of my circumstances? I have to marry him.”

“Has Lord Tyrion mistreated you?”

“No,” Sansa admitted.

“Has he been kind to you?”

“He’s tried.”

“You don’t want him though,” Margaery said as they finally made it down the steps carved into the cliff.

“He’s a Lannister.”

“Far from the worst Lannister, wouldn’t you say?” Margaery smiled at her.

Sansa paused, feeling the blush rising to her cheeks. She was so stupid. “I - am so sorry. Here I am complaining to you…”

Margaery shrugged. “My son will be King. Sons learn from their mother and I plan to teach mine a great deal. And your son, if I’m not mistaken, your son may be the Lord of Casterly Rock and The North one day.”

Turning away from Margaery, Sansa looked out to the sea and watched the waves crashing on the shore. “My son - with him. I’ll have to… We’ll have to…”

“If it is the pain you are worried about-”

“It is not the pain I am worried about, not after what Joffrey has done to me. Nothing could ever compare,” Sansa said.

“What is it then?”

Sansa gave her a look.

“Oh, he’s rather good looking, especially with the scar.”

“He’s a dwarf. Phil is…so tall and handsome, Loras too.”

“Some women like tall men, other short men, hairy men, bald men, ugly men, pretty men - pretty girls. You’ll never know until you’ve tried. Tyrion may surprise you. I’ve heard he’s quite experienced. Pleasing us, women, is quite complicated, you know?”

“How do you know all this? Did your mother teach you?”

Margaery gave her a look that Sansa could not quite place and smiled. “Yes, Sansa. My mother taught me,” she smirked.

PHIL

When Phil saw Joffrey asking his Kingsguard to call his grandfather for a private meeting and heading for the Throne Room, he knew he had to listen in. He waited a few minutes and walked his way around The Red Keep, stationing himself near the small council chamber. He made it just in time.

“I’d like a report on the small council meetings.”

“You are welcome to join the council meetings - all of them.”

“I’ve been busy. Many matters require a King’s attention.”

“Of course.”

“You’ve been holding the council meetings in the Tower of The Hand instead of the small council chamber.”

“I have, yes.”

“May I ask why?”

“Well, the Tower of The Hand is where I work, the walk from there to here would take time. Time that I could more efficiently use in other matters.”

“So if I wanted to attend a council meeting I would have to climb all the steps in the Tower of The Hand?”

Phil heard footsteps and peered around the corner. Tywin Lannister approached Joffrey, climbing the steps to the Iron Throne and towered over him, making him cower away from him while still trying to look powerful before the old man. “We could arrange to have you carried,” he said.

Covering his mouth with both hands, Phil shut his eyes and took a deep breath to avoid bursting out laughing. He pressed his back to the wall again.

Joffrey cleared his throat. “Tell me about the Targaryen girl in the East - and her dragons…”

“Where did you hear about this?” Lord Tywin asked.

“Is it true?”

“Apparently so.”

The King huffed. “Don’t you think we should do something about that?”

“When I was Hand of The King for your father’s predecessor, skulls of all the Targaryen dragons were kept in this room. The skull of the last one was right here, by the throne, it was the size of an apple.”

“And the biggest one was the size of a carriage.”

“Yes, and the person to whom it belonged died 300 years ago. Curiosities on the far side of the world are no threat to us.”

“How do we know these curiosities are nothing like the beasts that brought the world to heel?” Joffrey sounded quite alarmed about the dragon threat.

“Because we’ve been told so by the many experts who serve The Realm by counselling the King on matters about which he knows nothing.”

“But I haven’t been counselled,” Joffrey whined.

“You are being counselled at this very moment - since you refuse to join the meetings.”

“I would like to be consulted on this matter.”

“I will see to it that you are consulted on important matters,” he relented. “Your Grace,” he said and left.

Phil bit his lip and hoped he got to see the dragons up close when the time came.

ARYA

The Kingsroad, Westeros.

Just when they thought they were making good progress north, Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie heard a group of men coming towards them through the woods and took refuge behind a big tree.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” said one of them.

Arya looked at her friends and shook her head.

“If you show yourselves we may not hurt you,” said another one.

Arya sighed and came out of hiding looking at them with her sword drawn. “What do you want?”

“We just want to know what you are doing wandering in the forest. There’s a war raging all around!”

“I was just hunting, that’s all.”

“Hmm, and what about your little friends? The tall one and the little fat one?”

Gendry looked at her with resignation written all over his face and stood beside her, Hot Pie following shortly. She knew exactly what they were thinking, it was only their luck to find someone else to capture them.

“Don’t hurt us, we just want to cross.”

“Where are you really going?”

“Where are your banners? Who are you fighting for?” Arya asked.

“Girl, we are the Brotherhood without Banners. We serve no one but ourselves.” The man said. “What is your name?”

“I am Arri, this is Gendry and this is Hot Pie. We are going north.”

“There’s nothing for you north.”

“There’s nothing for me here.”

“Very true. Well, come along. We will feed you and send you on your way.”

“We would rather go our separate way,” Gendry said.

“We weren’t asking,” the man with the eye patch said.

Hot Pie threw his sword in front of him and shrugged at Arya. They were outnumbered anyway.

Their names were Beric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, Morgan, Steve and Rydell. Oddly enough, the group did take them to an Inn and bought them food. They wanted to know more about them and had mistaken them for refugees. Arya thought their brief adventure had come to an end when another member of the brotherhood walked in with a prisoner.

She thanked them for the meal and asked her friends to hurry along, keeping her head down as she rushed past The Hound.

The moment he set eyes on her, he seemed enraged. “What are you doing with a Stark bitch?”

“A Stark? Why didn’t you say that?” They captured her this time, a Stark would be of high value after all, but set her two friends free.

Hot Pie was asked to stay back and work for the Inn, while Gendry decided to join the Brotherhood since he didn’t really have anywhere to go and he could help them with their weapons.

Arya was touched when she hugged Hot Pie good bye. He presented her with bread in the shape of a wolf; a wolf who had a very odd looking tail. Now that he knew her real identity, he wanted to honour her house as a tribute for their time together. And so she waved at him as she was carried in Beric Dondarrion’s horse.

The following days were a mess of fights, magical stories, lots of fighting and a trial by combat for The Hound inside the Brotherhood’s hidden cave. Even though she begged them to execute him, they wanted their god to decide his fate. By the fire, Beric fought with him, hoping to send him to his maker, but The Hound defeated him and stuck his sword through him, killing Beric in a matter of seconds.

Thoros of Myr, the Red Priest, kneeled at his side and pressed his hands to Beric, muttering words in a language Arya couldn't even begin to understand, he brought him back to life.

Arya had never seen anything like that.

A woman dressed entirely in red joined them shortly after and recognised Arya immediately. She said Arya had a great future ahead of her and in her eyes she could see others, brown eyes, green eyes, blue eyes - eyes that she would shut forever. She advised the Brotherhood to let her go, but in the end they decided to pass her to The Hound, who promised to take her to her brother Robb.

That was not the only surprise of the night either. The red woman said Gendry was Robert Baratheon’s bastard and that she would have wanted to find him sooner, but the opportunity had passed. She said she was travelling north to help at The Wall, and that she hoped to see Arya again when the time was right.

Her head felt ready to burst. Arya was exhausted, she could barely wrap her mind around all the new information she had learned and was extremely tired of being captured and carried around Westeros as a hostage - tired of running and hiding. She decided that she would join The Hound, let him think she would not escape at the first opportunity, and simply kill him in his sleep, finally claiming her revenge for the life of the friend he had killed on the Kingsroad.

How hard could it be?

DAENERYS

Agreeing to the purchase of the entire Unsullied army, those children in training and even the girl that served the slave master as a translator, Daenerys risked it all by promising one of her dragons in exchange. It was a dangerous move, but she had very little to lose and a lot to gain.

Once the deal was sealed, she walked away with the girl, Missandei, and asked her many questions. She confirmed the obedience of The Unsullied would be hers the moment she had bought them. Danny learned that Missandei had no family to turn to and invited her to join her, but she made sure Missandei understood that Daenerys was going to war, and that meant that if she joined the campaign, she could get sick, go hungry, or die.

Missandei was a smart girl and had already lived through so much at her young age, it pleased Daenerys when she said ‘Valar Morghulis.’ It was true, ‘All men must die’ but luckily they were not men.

Danny could feel the excitement running through her when she saw the army formed before her, all the men, and the children ready to follow her wherever she went. Her chances of retaking Westeros were increasing by the second.

The slave master continued to make insulting comments about her, her body, her intelligence and everything he could think of but Danny didn’t flinch; instead, she smiled and pulled Drogon out of his cage, putting a chain around one of his legs and handing it to the master.

He insulted her some more as he gave her the whip, the clear and physical sign of ownership of the army she needed. This mere gesture meant that she was now in charge of the men. She turned around and showed them it so that they received the message. Then she ordered them in Valyrian.

“Unsullied, march forward,” she said and they did instantly, stopping at her command.

The slave master huffed at the way Drogon was trying to escape from him. “Tell that bitch that the dragon won’t stay still!”

“A dragon is not a slave,” she replied.

“You speak Valyrian?!”

“I am Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, from the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue.” She smiled and turned to her army once again. “Unsullied! Slay the slave masters, the soldiers and any man who holds a whip but harm no child! Strike the chain of every slave you see!”

The Unsullied turned to the slave masters holding wips between their ranks and slaughtered them. She then turned to the richest slave master, the one that stroke the deal with her, watched as he asked his guards to kill her. Danny smiled at him one last time before saying “Dracarys!”

Drogon spat fire at him, giving him a painful end to the slave master’s life and freeing himself of the man’s grasp before directing his flames at the city guards.

By the time the sun started to go down in the horizon, all the slavers and their guards were dead and her army stood still, awaiting her command. She walked between them and got on a horse to be able to see them all better and let them see her. “Unsullied! You’ve been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave, may leave and no one will harm him. I give you my word. Will you fight for me as free men?”

For a moment, there was complete silence. Nobody moved or spoke a single word, but then, slowly, the Unsullied started to hit the ground with their spears rhythmically. She smiled and led her army of free men to the next slave city in the bay, throwing the whip that had given her the initial power over the Unsullied, knowing she no longer needed it. Another battle won, another braid to be added to her head.

MARGAERY

“You look radiant,Your Grace,” Margaery said, linking her arm with Cersei’s and walking down the steps of the Sept of Baelor in the direction of their spots for Sansa’s wedding. “We’re going to be sisters, you and I. We should be friends!”

“You’re a musical girl, aren’t you? I bet you have a lovely voice.”

Margaery laughed. “I’m a better dancer than a singer, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, but you know the song ‘The Rains of Castamere,’ don’t you?”

“Of course, how could I not when it’s played so often at Court.”

“So you know the story of house Reyne of Castamere?”

Oh, Margaery could see where this was going. “Not as well as you, I’m sure.”

Cersei smiled deeply. “House Reyne was a powerful family, the second wealthiest of all of Westeros. Isn’t your house the second wealthiest now?”

Margaery smiled and nodded.

“Of course, ambitious climbers don’t want to stop at the second highest rung, they always want to take that final step. So Lord Reyne built a Castle as grand as Casterly Rock, borrowed money from my father for it and when the time to pay came, he refused. He rebelled against The Lannisters despite all the warnings he was given and took every member of his family to the lower levels of the Castle, where they had mines. Do you know where House Reyne is now?”

“Gone.”

“Gone? That’s a gentle word; they were slaughtered. They thought they would withstand the siege and any attack from above but my father redirected the course of a nearby river and flooded the castle. For hours and hours screams and knocking could be heard until the castle was left in complete silence,” She said with morbid satisfaction. “I remember seeing their bodies hanging in Casterly Rock. Father left them there all summer - and it was a long summer.” Cersei turned to her and recited the words of the song. “And now the rains weep all their halls with not a soul to hear...” She leaned and whispered into Margaery’s ear. “If you call me sister again I will have you strangled in your sleep.”

She finally turned and left, leaving Margaery shaking slightly, trying to take calming breaths. Cersei could remind her of the Lannister cruelty, but she forgot that the Tyrells did things differently and Margaery would beat her at her own game with no bloodshed at all.

SANSA

Sansa walked to the Sept with Lord Tyrion without problem. He was kind enough to lead her by the hand but once they arrived at their destination, he walked in first and stood at the altar. She smoothed her embroidered dress that included details from House Lannister in the form of gold Lions and a call to both houses in red weirwood leaves. Sadly, she didn’t dare add any references to the North.

The doors opened and she looked inside to the Court, every one of the nobles looking at her, some with pity, some with a triumphant smirk on their faces. Sansa wished she could run; if she could only turn around and -

An arm twisting around her own caught her off guard. It was Joffrey.

“What are you doing?” She asked before she could stop herself.

He smirked at her and looked around the room with a pleased expression. This was yet another opportunity to humiliate her. “Your father is gone. As the Father of The Realm it is my duty to give you away to your husband.”

She looked straight ahead and started walking. As she was approaching the altar, her eyes met Margaery’s who smiled at her in encouragement. She was wearing a light blue gauze dress with golden roses embroidered in the bodice that fit her perfectly, unlike her own wedding dress that made her feel trapped and inadequate.

When they got to the altar, Joffrey let go of her arm but took a moment to remove the stepping stool Tyrion had set up in front of him to make the ceremony easier.

Without even mentioning it, the High Septon said: “You may cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

Sansa turned around and waited for Tyrion to carry on, but she looked over her shoulder when she heard laughter. Joffrey started first, and the nobles followed as the mindless idiots they were. She blushed when Tyrion asked her to kneel, but did so without question. Once she felt the red velvet cloak on her shoulders, she stood.

The High Septon nodded and looked all around them, addressing everyone by title. “Your Grace, Your Grace, My Lords, My ladies…”

She could barely remember what happened after that, opting for keeping her mind preoccupied on new embroidery designs she could work on.

---

The celebration was a disaster as expected for a wedding in which both parties were extremely unhappy with their spouse. Sansa tried to keep her eyes on her plate and eat since the food was nice enough, but Tyrion was not coping well and decided to drown his sorrows. By the time dinner was done he could barely remain in his seat but he kept drinking nonetheless. Sansa excused herself and walked away, chatting with Lord Varys and Shae but she couldn’t quite focus on the matters at hand when she could see Tywin Lannister hovering over Tyrion, chastising him about something.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t hear them either but she did hear Olenna Tyrell trying to decipher what the implications would be after Margaery had wedded Joffrey and Loras became Cersei’s husband. She took a few minutes on this topic only to arrive at the conclusion that Loras would become Margaery’s father in law. It was yet another unfortunate situation but it brought a smile to Sansa’s lips, even if Loras was upset about the entire topic.

“You know, it is customary for the King to visit a bride on her wedding night. I could stop by after my uncle has passed out,” Joffrey whispered in her ear.

She took three steps back and almost fell down a short set of stairs.

“No? You wouldn’t like that?” Joffrey smirked. “Somebody had to put a Lannister child in you but I assume you don’t care which Lannister it is.”

Unhappy with her lack of reaction, he clapped loudly to get the attention of the court. “Everyone pick the groom and the bride up. It’s time for the bedding ceremony!”

“There won’t be a bedding ceremony,” Tyrion said.

“Oh, uncle, you can’t disregard the tradition!”

“There won’t be a bedding ceremony!” He repeated, this time in a louder tone.

Like a child who doesn’t like being told no, Joffrey’s smile disappeared. “There will be if I command it.”

Tyrion grabbed a knife and jabbed it into the table. “There won’t be one, or you will be fucking your own wife with a wooden cock.”

“What did you say?”Joffrey leaned over the table, setting his hands on it and staring into Tyrion’s eyes with pure rage. “What did you say!?”

Lord Tywing stood from his seat and said: “I believe we can dispense with the bedding ceremony, Your Grace.” He paused. “I’m sure Tyrion didn’t mean to threaten the King.”

Tyrion laughed maniacally and acted more drunk than he truly was. “It is true! It was just a joke out of jealousy of your own royal manhood,” he downed his glass of wine. “Mine is so small! My poor wife won’t even know I’m there!”

“Your uncle is clearly quite drunk, Your Grace,” Tywin added.

“I am! Guilty!” he said, standing up and stumbling all the way to Sansa. “But it is my wedding night, my tiny drunk cock and I have a job to do!”

They walked to their chambers among whispers of the entire court.

Once the door to their chambers had closed behind them, Tyrion poured himself more wine.

“Is that wise, My Lord?” She asked.

“Tyrion. My name is Tyrion and you are my wife. No need for the title.”

“Is that wise, Tyrion?”

“Nothing has even been wiser. My Lord father has commanded that I consummate this marriage.”

Sansa’s hands were sweating. She walked to the table and poured herself a glass of wine, drinking it as fast as she could. Then, she walked to the bed and turned around before starting to unlace her dress.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m -” she tried but her voice shook too much.

“No, no, no. I know you don’t want to. I would never, I could never.”

“What about your father?” Sansa asked.

“If my father wants someone fucked I know where he can start,” Tyrion said. “Nothing will happen until you want to.”

“And if I never want to?” She asked.

Tyrion shrugged and poured himself more wine, laying down on the sofa near the window. “And now my watch begins.”

CATELYN *** tw (skip to Tyrion's pov and read the notes in the end if you're squirmish)

The day had been exhausting so far. Tensions ran high for the first half, Robb having to apologise to each and every one of the Frey daughters for breaking his vow and having to stand quietly while Walder Frey referred to Talisa as a tight fit with nice tits. Thankfully, Edmure's offer to marry one of the Frey girls in Robb’s stead had appeased the moody old man.

After that, they had kept to themselves, getting ready for the ceremony in their own tents.

The wedding went by in a breeze, much like Robb’s, but Edmure was elated to see that his young wife was very beautiful and sweet-tempered. He’d spent the entire night chatting with her and gazing into her eyes. It was a happy ending after all. He had complained all the way from Riverrun to The Twins about having to marry one of the ugly girls, but he’d gotten a reward instead.

She looked around and smiled. Robb sat next to Talisa, a hand on her stomach, already in love with their child even if he hadn’t gotten to meet them. He reminded her of Ned when Robb was born. Days he’d spent looking at him by the fireplace, checking that he was still breathing, helping her take care of their little one; but now… he was a man, and soon he would be a father.

She hoped to live many years and watch his boy become a loving father, to care for her grandchildren and watch them grow. She had once rejected a little boy because she resented his mother, but she wouldn’t make that mistake again. Talisa was a good woman and she would be a fit mother and Queen for Robb.

“The Septon has prayed his prayers, some words were said and Lord Edmure has wrapped my daughter in a cloak, but they are not yet man and wife…”

A murmur of approval ran through the room.

“A sword needs its sheath!” Frey added and his sons laughed at the joke, banging on the tables. “And the wedding needs a bedding! What does my Sire say?” he asked, looking at Robb.

“If you think the time is right, Lord Walder, then by all means… let us bed them!” Robb said with a wide smile.

People from every table cheered and rushed to carry the bride and groom out of the room in the direction of their private chambers, where they would consummate the wedding and potentially start a new family, a new era with houses Tully and Frey joined as one.

Once the wedded couple had left, the doors closed and the music resumed, a slow rhythm that sounded vaguely familiar but -

There was something stirring inside Catelyn, her blood ran cold in her veins, the hairs in the back of her neck stood. Everywhere she looked, nobody seemed to notice, until Walder Frey spoke again.

“Your Grace, I feel I've been remiss in my duties. I've given you meat and wine and music, but I haven’t shown you the hospitality you deserve. My King has married and I owe my new Queen a wedding gift.”

Catelyn frowned and looked at Roose Bolton sitting at her side. He smirked and raised his long sleeve to show her a chainmail armour he wore under his clothes.

She stood so fast the chair fell to the ground with a bang. “Robb! Run!” She screamed but before she could even take a step toward her son, one of the Frey men rushed to Talisa and stabbed her in the heart.

Robb killed him on the spot but the archers stationed in the minstrel’s gallery were too quick for him to avoid the attack. Their arrows flew right into Robb’s chest before he could take another step.

Catelyn saw movement under the main table and dragged the woman by the hair. “Lord Walder, let him go. Let my son go and I will forget this. He’s my son, my first son.”

Robb dragged himself towards Talisa and held her in her arms, watching the life escape her, his hands on her stomach, uselessly trying to protect that child that would never be born.

“The King in The North rises!” Frey smirked.

She cried, trying to plead with Walder Frey; she knew it was impossible, but she had to try, she had to protect her boy. “By the Old Gods and The New, by my honour as a Tully, by my honour as a Stark, I swear to you, we will seek no vengeance if you let him go. Take me as your prisoner, keep me, but let him go!”

“Why would I do that? You already swore an oath to me by The Old Gods in this same castle. You said your son would marry one of my daughters! And you broke that promise.”

As she held the knife to Frey’s young wife, she screamed. “Robb, you need to stand up and walk out. Stand up! Please.” Her voice was hoarse, she could hardly speak, but she screamed at him. “Robb! Please!”

He slowly stood and looked at her, his eyes lost, his expression vacant. “Mother,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Bolton rushed to him. “The Lannisters send their regards,” he said and buried his dagger in Robb’s stomach, crimson running freely from him, like a river, mixing with Talisa’s as he fell beside her, reaching with his hand towards hers as he gave his last breath.

Catelyn screamed at the top of her lungs as she watched him die. She could no longer continue, there was no point. In her mind and in her heart she begged Dan, Arya, and Sansa for forgiveness for abandoning them, but the time had come for her to join Ned and Bran on the other side. She slit the woman’s throat and stared into the distance, yelling until she felt something warm in her neck and her vision went black.

DAN

Despite his mother’s warning, Dan decided to stop by The Twins, to see how the celebration was going. Still, he approached the castle from the side, hiding from sight, keeping his hood up. Dan looked over his shoulder and realised Balerion was gone.

He could feel his beating heart in his throat as he looked around and saw him next to a wooden cage. He’d found Greywind.

Dan walked across the field towards the cage but someone stopped him, turning him around swiftly and lowering his hood. “I know you, you are that little Stark boy, you sit right next to the King!”

“I’m sorry, My Lord, I believe you have mistaken me for someone else!” Dan considered his choices wisely. He could probably reach for his dagger but he could feel that there was another man behind him. Whatever was going to happen, needed to happen soon. He was right. He confirmed it was too late when he felt a blow to the back of his head and his world turned black.

When Dan came to, he was tied to a tree with the man kicking at his boots. He was not too far from the Castle, since he could still hear the celebration.

Then - The Rains of Castamere started playing in the Castle and the murmur of the party died down before the screaming started.

“What’s happening?” Dan asked, his stomach twisting into knots. This could not be good.

“You’ll see!” The man said with a cruel laugh that sounded much like a cough. “I'll have a sweet reward for you, I'm sure. But we can't interrupt the fun now, I'll take you to the Lord m'self”

Dan took a deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to find Balerion. It took him a few seconds with the man screaming in his face, but he finally managed to enter his wolf’s mind.

He approached the castle gates, trying to stay hidden, but he could hear yelling of men and women and then - his blood froze in his veins, a chill running down his spine. He heard his mother scream, begging for mercy for Robb, and for her to be taken as prisoner instead but, when he heard his mother’s wordless scream, he knew all negotiations had failed.

The gates opened and out came a cluster of Frey men. “Where is the wolf? We need its head!” yelled someone and Dan ran back to Greywind.

Two Frey men approached the cage with crossbows, and opened it but Dan attacked and went for their throats, killing them before they could hurt him. He looked into Greywind’s sad eyes and guided him to the tree.

Dan opened his eyes and felt his head pounding, the scene in front of him swirling as the wolves killed his captor. He tried to speak, but his throat was hoarse as if he’d been screaming. He felt the tears rolling down his cheeks as he tried to untie himself but was unable to.

Balerion chewed on the ropes and let him free, but even then Dan had trouble standing up. He looked over to the Castle and saw his family being displayed as the Freys chanted “The King in The North! The King in The North.” Robb’s headless body sat atop his horse, their mother and Talisa hung from ropes on the wall behind it, their bodies seeming to have been dragged through the mud. Feeling a wave of sickness washing over him, he fell to his knees and emptied his stomach, coughing and gagging. It was over; it was all over. He could either run or die fighting. His deepest wish was to join his family, but -

He’d made an oath. He promised to go north, to find if Arya had made it to Jon, keep her safe, and make Winterfell a home again. But, his mission was, above all, to survive. He was the last Stark man now. He shouldn’t even be here. It was time to go home.

Balerion whined beside him and tried to carry him, Greywind coming to their aid. He wrapped his arms around his wolf and let himself be carried down to the river. Dan cut the rope of a small boat and sailed north with the sleeping wolves, hoping to survive the night to keep all of his promises.

Only when the sun rose above Westeros, did Dan allow himself to break down and cry for the loss of his family. His heart shattered thinking of Robb and their mother, of poor Talisa and her unborn child. He had been an uncle, Robb had been a father, Talisa a mother, and their mother a grandmother. They had been a family. Now none of those things were true, only he remained.

ARYA

Arya sat in the back of the cart The Hound had stolen from a farmer after helping him fix it. They made it to The Twins but a guard stopped them insisting that the wedding celebration was over and they were to turn around. The Hound argued with him, wasting precious time, she was finally close to reuniting with her family and she wasn’t going to let anyone ruin that. She rolled her eyes and got off as quietly as possible, walking past them with other soldiers.

She frowned when she spotted Balerion hiding near the Castle, whining. Suddenly the gates opened and the Freys came out with the bodies of her mother, brother, and a woman she didn’t know. She unsheathed her sword and looked around for Dan but couldn’t see him, so instead she ran for Greywind’s cage, trying to catch up to the soldiers that had been ordered to bring him. She was almost there but someone grabbed the back of her coat.

“It’s too late,” The Hound said.

“Let me go!” She screamed.

“There’s nothing you can do,” was the last thing she heard before he knocked her unconscious.

TYRION

Married life hadn’t been as horrible as he’d thought. Sansa and him had a few things in common and were able to find an amicable middle ground to enjoy just enough of each other’s company to keep appearances. Of course, Shae was incredibly jealous but they could at least meet in peace without anyone snooping around now that he had an actual wife.

He strolled through the gardens with both of them, which was a bit weird in on itself but found it quite enjoyable, when two noble men laughed at him. Not a new experience for him, but Sansa gave him the idea to put sheep shit into their mattress and sew the hole close to make their chambers stink without them knowing where the smell came from. She was a vengeful girl but still had it in her to laugh and speak about the treacherous things Arya did when she was mad at her.

For Sansa’s sake he hoped that little Arya was alive somewhere, the poor girl had suffered enough.

Podrick ran up to them, bowing to Sansa. “Lord Tyrion, the council has called an urgent meeting, Lord Tywin has said that your presence is required.”

“Thank you, Pod,” said Tyrion before turning to Sansa. “My Lady, please enjoy the rest of the afternoon.” He looked at Shae out of the corner of his eye but smiled when he saw her smiling.

It was quite alarming to enter the council meeting and not only find Joffrey there, which was odd enough, but to see him smiling so widely. “Have you killed many puppies today?”

“Show him!” he said excitedly, pointing to Pycelle.

The old Maester gave him a rolled up message that made him sick to his stomach. “Roslin caught a fine fat trout. Her brothers gave her a pair of wolf pelts for her wedding. Signed, Walder Frey” He knew it couldn’t be good, it seemed that they had captured the Starks. Still, wanting to confirm his theory, he said: “What is this? Bad poetry?”

Joffrey laughed. “Robb Stark is dead! And his bitch mother!” He then looked at Maester Pycelle. “Send a message to Walder Frey thanking him for his service and demand that he sends Robb Stark’s head; I’m going to serve it to Sansa at my wedding!”

Varys’ face twisted in disgust before he schooled his features into a neutral expression. “Your Grace, Lady Sansa is your aunt by marriage.”

Cersei Laughed. “It’s a joke; Joffrey did not mean it.”

“Yes, I did. I’m going to have it served to Sansa at my wedding feast.”

“No. She’s no longer yours to torment,” Tyrion said.

The little brat’s face twisted in rage, just like every time someone contradicted him in any matter, “Everyone is mine to torment. You’ll do well to remember that, little monster.”

“Oh, I’m a monster! Perhaps you should speak to me more softly then. Monsters are dangerous and just now Kings are dying like flies,” Tyrion said, pleased to see Varys’ lips twitch into a smile for just a second.

“I could have your tongue out for saying that.”

Cersei grabbed his hand and comforted him. “Let him make his threats, hmm? He’s a bitter little man.”

Pycelle, of course, took the opportunity to cause more conflict. “Lord Tyrion should apologise immediately. Unacceptable, disrespectful and in very bad taste!”

Pulling his hand from his mother’s grasp swiftly, Joffrey screamed: “I am The King! I will punish you!”

Tyrion’s father took a sip of wine and set his glass on the table. “Any man who needs to say I am The King is no true King. I made sure you understood that when I won your war for you.”

“My father won the real war. He killed Prince Rhaegar! He took the crown while you hid in Casterly Rock!”

Tyrion did hate Joffrey, but he was hesitantly agreeing with him in his mind. Robert had won the crown while the Lannister army waited just to join and support whoever was winning, making sure to be in good graces with the crown. The problem was that Tywin Lannister did not like to be called on his tactics.

“The King is tired, see him to his chambers,” he said as he looked into Joffrey’s eyes with what could only be classified as contained rage.

Cersei stood from her chair, pulling at her son’s arm, knowing too well not to defy her father. “Come along.”

“I’m not tired,” Joffrey mumbled.

“We have so much to celebrate,” she continued as if she had not heard him. “We have a wedding to plan, you must rest.”

Joffrey finally relented and followed his mother to the door.

“Grand Maester, perhaps some essence of nightshade could help him sleep,” His father said.

Turning around swiftly, Joffrey looked at his Hand and yelled: “I’m not tired!” But he still followed Cersei out of the meeting.

After deciding to name Roose Bolton as Warden of the North and Walder Frey as Lord of Harrenhal, the meeting was adjourned.

Tyrion ran as fast as he could in search of Sansa, but she was no longer in the gardens, nor with her ladies, or even with Shae. He ran to her bedroom to be the one to give her the horrible news and offer her support but upon opening the door, he knew he hadn’t made it in time. She sat by the window, looking out to the sea and crying so hard he thought she was going to faint at any given moment.

Not knowing what to say, he placed his hand on hers but she rejected him. It was understandable, his family had killed hers. “I will give you privacy, My Lady. If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to let me know,” he said, but Sansa didn’t answer. “I assure you I didn’t know.”

“Leave!” She whispered without even looking at him. Still he nodded and left, going in search of Shae so that she could be with Sansa and be the friend she needed.

SAM

Sam panted as he climbed the last steps of the stairs leading into the castle but as soon as he set a foot inside, someone knocked him into the ground. To his surprise, he found himself with a knife held to his throat and on the other side, a young girl.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he pleaded. He then looked around and saw two boys and a very tall man.

“Don’t hurt him - please,” said Gilly when she climbed up the steps. The girl almost killed her on instinct but saw the baby and froze.

“Who are you?” Asked the girl.

“I am a brother of the Night’s Watch, we are going to Castle Black,” he said.

“My brother is at Castle Black,” one of the boys said.

Sam frowned. “Who are you?”

“No one,” said the older boy.

Looking to his right, Sam saw a direwolf and smiled. “You are Jon’s brother, the one who fell from the window; that means that you are my brother too. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him.”

“No, he’s not,” said the girl.

“I know a direwolf when I see one, been around Ghost long enough to recognize them. And I’ve heard all about Hodor,” Sam added with a smile. Hodor smiled back and nodded. “If there’s anything I can do for you, I will.”

The girl stepped aside, joining the group on the other side of the room but still looking at him and Gilly with suspicion.

“Take us north of The Wall,” the boy said… Bran was his name.

“You should come with us to Castle Black. If Jon is alive that’s where he’ll be. Beyond The Wall there’s only death.”

“We know what awaits us in the North. No Kings or their armies will stop them.” The other boy said.

“Do you plan to stop them?” Sam said, looking at Bran.

“I wish I could come with you, but I have to go. I have to.”

Looking at Gilly and the baby, Sam nodded in agreement. “There are steps carved into the rock, then there’s a tunnel and a Sally Port that is hidden. Hodor can carry you without problem. Follow me.”

He didn’t want to think about the possibility that Jon was dead, or that this could be the only chance for the brothers to meet again before one of them passed. He had made Bran a promise and he would keep it, even if he didn’t agree.

He asked Gilly to stay inside with the baby and climbed down the steps once again, leading the odd party north of The Wall.

JON

It took them weeks to return, but they managed it. Some of the others that had not stopped at Craster’s were already back, including Thorne, who was running Castle Black in their Lord Commander’s stead.

Jon felt his stomach drop every time he thought about Mormont. For him, he would try to get along with Ser Alliser. It was not a surprise to know that the gate had taken so long to open for them because of who was in charge. Only Maester Aemon had reprimanded him.

Things would never be what they once were. They had to relay all the information they had learned beyond The Wall, about Mance’s army of wildings which was big enough to overpower their forces in seconds, an army of Wights that extended as far as the eye could see, commanded by several White Walkers and one of the worse winters in the history of Westeros was coming south.

For killing his own brothers, Jon was put on trial. Grenn and Edd were spared because they hadn’t had problems with those they killed beforehand, but Thorne was accusing him and only him of instigating the mutiny and taking advantage of the situation to kill other men of The Watch, particularly Rast who was Alliser’s favourite.

It was all a sham and attempt to hang him merely because Thorne didn’t like him at all, but Jon stayed calm and explained everything as best as he could.

While Ser Janos Slynt agreed with everything Thorne said, Maester Aemon took an interest in the details of how everything went down. The babes being sacrificed to the White Walkers, Craster’s cruelty towards everything, and his disposition for violence when The Watch arrived at the keep. He also asked who had initiated the attack, who had instigated the mutiny and who had stabbed Lord Commander Mormont.

Grenn and Edd were questioned separately to verify the facts, and taking everything into account, Maester Aemon managed to convince the others to let Jon live. He had been justified in his actions and they couldn’t afford to lose any men with the upcoming difficulties.

Ravens were immediately sent to every house, requesting help and letting them know about the threat up beyond The Wall.

DAENERYS

On her way to Yunkai, the closest slave city in the bay, Daenerys took the opportunity to get to know her men better. Missandei was able to find the group of men that were trained the longest and bring them to her. They didn’t speak the common tongue, but that didn’t matter to her. “Unsullied, you did not choose this life, but you are free men now and can make your choices. Have you selected your own leader between your ranks?”

Instead of answering, they stepped aside revealing a man. He was dressed exactly the same as the rest of them, black pants and leather vest, black helmet covering his entire face, a black shield and spear.

“Remove your helmet,” she requested. He did and Danny didn’t know what she had been expecting but it took her by surprise to see a handsome young man, probably around her own and Missandei’s age. With hair barely growing after being shaved, and his face was soft and gentle despite the cruel life he had lived so far.

“It is an honour,” he said in Valyrian.

“What is your name?”

“Grey worm.”

“Grey worm,” Daenerys repeated and looked at Missandei for help.

“All Unsullied are given new names when they are cut. Grey Worm, Red Flea, Black Rat - all names that remind them what they are.”

Daenerys nodded. “From this day forward, you will choose your own name and you will tell your fellow soldiers to do the same. Throw away your slave name, choose the one your parents gave you or any other. Get a name that gives you pride.”

“Grey worm is a lucky name. It was the name I had when I became a free man and it fills me with pride.”

She smiled at him and let him join the ranks once again.

---

The plan to free Yunkai was supported by Ser Barristan since they trained household slaves instead of warriors and it would be easily overtaken by The Unsullied. Jorah, on the other hand, thought the slavers would employ guerilla tactics against her and it could be quite dangerous.

Their reconnaissance mission showed that the city was guarded by an army of sellswords. Jorah knew them by reputation and by their broken banners; they called themselves The Second Sons. Knowing their numbers were inferior, Danny requested a meeting with the Commander of the army to offer him fighting on her side instead.

The second sons had three Captains, even if one of them had power over the other two. Mero of Braavos, joined the meeting along with Prendahl na Ghezn and Daario Naharis.

Mero was disgusting and quite rude, for the lack of a better word, set on getting a reaction out of her, but Danny didn’t give him that pleasure. She merely had Ser Barristan say their army was made of ten thousand, ready to attack their less than two thousand men. Daario caught on the lie, noticing that they had only eight thousand.

She offered them a deal but they didn’t seem too keen on accepting, so she gave them wine and two days to ponder on their options; but in the end it didn’t come to it.

The following night Daario Naharis presented her with the heads of the other captains. His methods were not to her taste; he sneaked into her chambers during her bath dressed as an Unsullied and took Missandei hostage to keep Danny quiet.

He’d been sent there to kill her, but he’d chosen to kill his comrades instead because he wanted her and they said he had no choice but to kill her. He didn’t like to be forced to do things, so he chose to offer his services to her.

He swore to fight for her alongside The Second Sons. “My sword is yours, my life is yours, my heart is yours,” he said and Danny smiled, he was a handsome man after all.

Preparing for the attack was much easier with Daario at her side. He was able to point them to a back gate they could use to enter the city and even devised a simple plan for them to overpower Yunkai in a single day.

Daario would enter through the back gate with Jorah and Grey Worm, take the back streets and open the front gate for the army.

Jorah’s first reaction was to oppose him since he was suspicious of Daario but Danny asked Grey Worm what he thought and he agreed to the plan without hesitation.

And so they entered the city after nightfall, hiding in the shadows, and overpowered the guards. It was not as easy as they had thought but once the three of them had spoken to the slave guards, they threw their speers and rebelled against their masters. By dawn, the slaves had found their own freedom and opened the doors, walking out to greet her and welcoming her with open arms.

Missandei introduced her and let them know that they owed her their freedom but that was not what Daenerys wanted to say, so instead she let them know the truth in Valyrian.

“You do not owe me your freedom, I cannot give it to you, your freedom is not mine to give. It belongs to you and you alone. If you want it, you must take it for yourselves, each and every one of you!”

They looked at her in silence for a moment before a little girl yelled “Mhysa!” The others followed, chanting “Mhysa” and stretching their hands to her, trying to get closer step by step.

Daenerys blinked in confusion and looked at Missandei. “What does it mean?”

“It is old Ghiscari, Khaleesi. It means Mother,” she said.

The Unsullied lifted their speers, trying to keep the former slaves from getting to her, but she shook her head. “It’s alright, these people won’t hurt me.” She kneeled next to her dragons and let them fly freely before walking into the crowd, letting them touch her, smiling, enjoying the love that they already felt for her. Two men lifted her on their shoulders and allowed her to look around to her people as they continued to call her Mhysa.

Author notes: If you chose to skip Catelyn's, Dan's and Arya's POVs at the twins this is the summary: Catelyn, Robb and Talisa were killed by the Freys, Dan was outside the castle and saw his family dead, he was captured and injured but Balerion freed Greywind and they dragged him down to the river where he took a small boat. Arya had just arrived with The Hound to be sold back to his family but he dragged her away when he saw they were dead already.

If you decide to go back and read feel free to stop at any moment and just so you know, I toned it down from the show so don't go looking for it if you have triggers. Otherwise, the scene is "The Red Wedding" and it's said to be one of the best moments in television.

#phanfiction #phanfic #ospbb 2022 #phan #phan au #succubusphan fics #game of thrones #got fic

4 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 1 year

Text

There's a whole new deal going on and has to do with how our son's treated no, has to do with them having a plan and right now they're saying he's abused and angry and you people responsible and you won't stop so you think you're getting us by doing it and we seem to hear you thinking stupid s*** too and I do weird things too some of you and you think that you can get the AI by getting rid of yourselves stuff were hearing. I'm not going to cut him loose tomorrow and if you're talking about billing it's about the girls that do their job so I don't understand that he be in trouble if I would ask for it all I stopped asking for co-pays cuz of COVID. I thought it was appropriate that was my decision and I don't know why she called them like that and said those things it's kind of ridiculous I'm there I'm there just to tell you to go away and not ask for a copay and he says that's actually true like once I was three times or something that's true. And she didn't say anything about it when she verify the appointment. Sorta get something these people are full of s*** too. They actually were putting him in the mental hospital to extort us.

I want that to change I don't want him in the mental hospital he's not supposed to be mental how the hell is he was to figure anything out if he doesn't have a solid belief system I don't understand these people they're so damn dumb he's like you you're done you idiots

Mac

It's very truly they're sitting there extorting you by having us in here I know about you but I'm tired of this treatment

Big joe

I can't stand anymore the threatening us right now and see that's right now has to get to you Max problem is they're not stopping at any of us and you're hurting his clans to like the fruition almost to the last one and her grandfather saved her and then he's trying to save dee and find her. I don't know what to say what they're doing so bad. Jesus and Mary trying to rile them up as Giants it looks like they hit him within an emmitter somehow they get put back in time. I want these people gone should charged with murder all the time. I kinda get what's going on, I'm trying to figure out who that guy is the Gaga video he says it looks like two in common just because of the right leg and that's what it looks like when I look at all the rest of it the same carcass their face different and their head might be different looking, I looked at the head and I wondered what the hell that thing was on it it looks like a piece of metal I look closer and I looked in person with equipment they had to study it once the phone was so it looks like some kind of cloth is giggling because it ain't polyester event may have been sent back he's saying oh no that's what happened to Uncle Phil he has polyester pants.. is saying oh Chris be quiet it's probably uncle Biden. It says no how could it be I look like him just like the dalai lama it's all the one I look like and said oh no that's him it's the dalek I see this is horrible so what do you want to retarded in charge tell me if I see that

Preston

Man are you weird

Big joe

Yeah my trip like that little it's probably from me he says, so I'm trying to think things through and yeah it's me helping them and I think it's true but why is his head bulbous

Hera

I dunno

Zues

Then be quiet ok

Hera

Hmph

Zues

Haha don't hmph me ok

Hera

Ok.

Zues mb just skin lk an egg shell

Hera

No this is bound and it was bound with metal, to be bigger and odd shaped. They took it to thier video, it Cooks Trump and then they put him there for a picture you can see that the burn marks don't match and they covered it up that way and sent Jason to Biden circuitously

Thor Freya

Gross. They burn me. Then what. You said she was there your fooling around with vodka there's these weird openings and like A Nazi Germany they used to shoot people through them and or gas you. I suspected the crew is right there and people verify that you were surrounded by clones and I think women clones too.

And he said that it looks like it and it looks like they might burn my exterior little to make me unrecognizable and what is saying now is making me sick yeah it's better to do that I think those women are men and I might have been screwing around them and they put me in jail because the other women were taken by Tommy f put him in jail they did it on purpose

Trump

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justsoyouknowstevenuniverse · 5 years

Photo

source [x]

#Just so you know #did you know?#well now you do!#Steven universe the movie #pearl #rebecca sugar #su critical #NYCC #2019 #steven universe panel #panel show #women is a trip uncle phil

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saturnsstufff · 3 years

Note

Hear me out, imainge Techno raiseing a little girl and she just brings home her first boy friend or something. Techno being Techno just reacts to this in a "hurt her and i'll kick your ass" kinda way.

This idea wont leave my head and I have no idea why.---

Also hope you have a great rest of the weekend!! :D

-🐼😐

Oh my god he would be the best/worst dad ever. Best because he would be so loving and supportive. But worst because he was so terrifying.

Also! Apologies before hand I got a little carried away (I love domestic dad techno, what can I say)

Athena- Technoblade

Warning: none, maybe protective dad Techno?

When you first had children Techno was pretty hesitant. He wasn't sure if the child would like him or despise him. He also wasn't sure if he would even be a decent father. Of course being his loving and supportive wife, you already knew Techno was utterly amazing with children. So when you announced you were pregnant, you swiftly eased Techno's nerves about fatherhood.

When your baby was born he cried, he was so over joyed at the sight of your little darling within his arms. Phil, having known the lengths and dangers of pregnancies, was glad that you had safely delivered a healthy baby girl. Almost a exact replica of you to be precise. With little ruby eyes she looked at you both with wonder. Quickly finding comfort with her Mother, Father and Uncle. Techno upon seeing her, knew she would grow to be strong. Whether she choose to be delicate as a flower, or as fierce as a warrior. He would be there to support his little girl. With that said, he only found one name, perfect enough to fit his little darling.

Athena.

Like her name foretold, she became a elegant warrior. From a young age she was driven to make her father forever proud. Of course he was naturally proud of her. But that didn't stop her from picking a bow, and sword up to challenge her father.

When she was a toddler, she found amusement and love for the little things. Athena and Steve had even become inseparable. Her father was gushing over the idea that his daughter had a love for large animals similarly to him.

Of course you were also close to her. She was your daughter, made of your flesh and blood. While Techno taught her everything about combat, you often shown her the gentle side of things.

Between You and Techno- and the rather occasional help from Phil- you guys had taught Athena to be fierce, yet gentle and loving. Something you were all very proud of.

As Athena aged she became rather beautiful, growing to look a lot more like Techno then you first had perceived. With her father's strong gaze and jawline she became a heartbreaker without even knowing it.

You and Techno both knew she was gentle and loving. But due to Technoblade being her father, many boys and women alike tended to shy away from her. Fearing of upsetting her or her father.

Techno felt bad at the idea of his daughter being alone. He knew what it was like to be shunned by most people. It wasn't something he wished his little girl to face.

You, having been the more positive person in the marriage, knew that it would just take time for her to find the right person. Sure enough, you were right.

Athena had found friendship with a hybrid Ender boy named Nathaniel. Although rather tall he was in fact timid. Athena waisted no time in telling you about her long adventures with Nathan by her side. Soon the name "Nathan" and “Nate” had become a house hold name for your family.

Of course you had met Nathan occasionally. Having seen him when you would walk with Athena to the nearby village. He was a kind and loving boy towards you, and all those he encountered. When he started bringing Athena flowers, you had more then a well known hunch of where it would lead to. As always, you were indeed right again.

One morning Athena was a bit restless in her seat at breakfast. While you fed your young toddler, you couldn't help but wonder if she was ok. You were the type of mom to let your children come to you with their issues on their own terms. Figuring to wait until they were comfortable with bringing things up, then being pushed to tell you. It worked with your sixteen year old daughter and your twelve year old son. So you planned to roll with that for your soon two year old son as well.

Soon enough she did budge. "Mom?" She asked softly. You turned to her, showing she had your full attention. She cleared her throat and poked at her egg a bit. "I invited Nathan over for today... I hope that's ok..." she asked a bit shy. Something was up, but you weren't about to pry.

"Of course that's ok Thena, he’s your friend" you smiled softly to her wanting her to feel at ease. Her brother narrowed his eyes a bit. You watched your son from the corner of your eye. He knew something. Your middle child took after Techno expression wise. The look he was currently giving his sister, was the same look Techno gave you when he knew you weren't telling the full story. With your youngest in front of you asking for more food, you slowly moved your attention away from the eldest children.

"Will dad be coming home today?" Your son asked curiously. You herd the bemusement lace his tone. You hummed and put a spoonful of oatmeal into the toddlers mouth.

"I believe so. Phil and Your Father said they wouldn't be long with the Mansion run" you said looking over to him. With your youngest now almost two Techno started up his usual runs again. When you had a baby in the house he was always hesitant to leave for too long. Of course you always told him you would be fine. Thankfully your children were well behaved and easy to keep track of- that is unless your oldest son felt the urge to annoy his sister of course.

It was about a little after noon before Techno and Phil had returned home. Your toddler was the first to see them from the window of course. Calling out "daddy" and insisting that you all go out to meet him. With no hesitation you scooped up your baby and wondered out with your kids. Athena was smiling brightly. But you could also tell she was on edge.

When Techno rode up to the house your toddler was thrashing for him. Only easing up when he was handed to Techno. Your husband had the largest smile as he took his son in his hands. Asking if he was missed. You gave Phil a warm welcoming smile. Hugging him when he dismounted from his horse.

While you stood by Phil talking about the trip, your youngest children were hugging there father when he came down. Happy to have him home once again.

Athena, although overjoyed that her dad was home. Found her attention drawn to the young Ender boy approaching from the tree line. The two hugged happily when he met up with her.

Techno had traded your toddler to Phil. Making room within his arms for you. With your body pressed up to his, you turned your head to give him a warm welcoming kiss. But instead paused to see Nathan and your daughter hugging. Techno, expecting a nice kiss started to pout. But he soon stopped when he saw a unfamiliar boy with his little girl.

You had previously met Nathaniel, however, Techno has not. He’s only herd about this boy. So he was a bit skeptical.

Athena didn't hesitate to bring Nathan over to your little family. With Techno and Phil in full armor, you felt a bit bad that shy Nathan had to meet them this way. Your sons stood with Phil, your youngest within his arms. You stood in front of Techno, your husband towering over you with only his hand on your shoulder.

"Who is this?" Techno asked, his eyebrow slightly raised in question. Athena smiled hesitantly. Nathan quietly looking Techno over.

"Dad... This is Nathaniel... That boy I always talk about" you smiled warmly at the boy. Saying it was nice to see him again. He gave you a shy, but warm smile in return. Techno's eyes lingered over Nathaniel. Almost summing him up. "Nate.. this is my Dad and Uncle..." she said pointing. Nathan stepped away from Athena's side. Slowly stepping up to you and Techno. With a hesitant arm he held his hand out to Techno for a handshake. When Techno shook Nathan's hand, the size difference was easy to spot. Where Techno had strong calloused hands, Nathans were limber, long, and soft. Easily one of his Enderman traits he possessed.

Techno didn't make direct eye contact. Having remembered when Ranboo stayed with you two years previously. Ranboo had off hand mentioned making eye contact was seen as a hostile move to Enderman.

"Its very nice to meet you finally, sir..." Nathan said rather quietly. Techno although on the fence. Didn't choose to try and be intimidating. Instead he kept his normal monotone voice.

"It's nice to meet you too"

Nathan ended up staying for dinner that night. Athena and Nathan mostly stuck together, but both were a bit nervous you could tell. But again you didn't push it.

After dinner Phil took the kids outside for a late night walk. Figuring he would leave you and Techno alone for a bit. Of course you weren't fully alone. Athena and Nathan stuck about. With the two sat together on the couch, Athena ended up falling asleep on Nathans shoulder.

Well you and Techno talked in the other room at the table, the last person you expected to see was Nathan. He quietly walked in and waited for you two to finish talking before he began. "I... I uhm, have something to ask you s-sir" Nathan began uncertain. You gave him a kind smile and motioned for him to sit.

When he sat he looked between you two. Mostly looking for reassurance from you so he could address Techno. Techno didn't push, he just calmly waited for the boy to speak. "A..Athena really cares about your opinion... And.. I... I know I want to do this right..." he was stumbling over his words. You could tell he was nervous. Quietly you just told him to take a deep breath. He nodded and did so. Waiting a moment before continuing. "W...with your permission as her Father... Could I please date your daughter?... S-she means the world to me... all I want is her happy..." Nathan was shying away from Techno. Almost expecting him to yell or something.

Techno watched a bit and thought on his words. Truthfully Techno was proud of this boy. Everyone was terrified to date his daughter, yet a shy Ender boy had purposefully stepped aside to ask him for permission. "I suppose I'll let you..." Techno said slowly. Nathaniel's shoulders visibly relaxed at Techno's words. Of course techno narrowed his eyes after, becoming serious "just know I was your age. If she ends up pregnant anytime soon, I'm coming for you" Techno meant it. Nathaniel went red and swallowed thickly before slowly nodding.

"Y-yes sir...."

#technoblade #technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #techno x you #fanfic #fanfiction #minecraft fanfiction #minecraft x you #dreamsmp x reader #tb

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theroseandthebeast · 2 years

Text

Yuletide 2021 - Fic Recs Batch Three

14 fic recs for Little Women, Marvel (Spiderman, Scarlet Spider, Fantastic Four), Midnight Mass, Midsommar, Mythic Quest, The Night Circus, Only Murders In The Building, Over the Garden Wall, Peter Pan / Peter Darling, and The Power of the Dog

meet me in the green glen, Theodore "Laurie" Laurence/Josephine "Jo" March, Amy March & Josephine "Jo" March

In which there is a different road.

don't read the comments, Peter Parker/Johnny Storm

This time, it was The Daily Bugle Online that had betrayed him.

SPIDER-MAN AND HUMAN TORCH SHARE GROUNDSHAKING MOMENT

“Uncle Johnny…” Franklin said. “You’re not dating Spider-Man, right? You would have told us?”

“Of course I would have told you,” Johnny assured him. He looked at the picture again.

Fire in the Cold, Peter Parker/Johnny Storm

“I need you to do me a favor,” Johnny said.

“No,” Peter said.

“But you didn’t even hear what it is yet!” Johnny protested.

“And somehow I already know it’s going to be stupid,” Peter said. “Okay, fine, shoot. Tell me what it is and then I’ll say no.”

Johnny took a deep breath.

“I need you to come with me on my family’s holiday trip and pretend to be my boyfriend,” Johnny said.

A Champion Ring, Kaine/Flash Thompson, Kaine & María Aracely Penalba, Andrea Benton & Flash Thompson

Flash asks for Kaine's help on a case that requires them to pretend to be married. Kaine overthinks everything.

Sundowning, Mildred Gunning/Father Paul Hill | Monsignor John Pruitt

John, coming back to himself.

The Midwinter Podcast, implied Dani Ardor/Pelle

Connie's sister makes a podcast investigating what happened during that one eventful midsummer for the Hårga. Reddit and facebook react.

a queen for all seasons, Dani Ardor

In her dreams, dark smudges crowd the edges of the world. One looms larger than the rest, twisting into impossible shapes, morphing into a figure with many faces, all of them howling with rage.

When she jolts awake, the dream-figure lingers. She tries to ignore it. She’s no stranger to nightmares. Her whole life has been one ever since her family’s deaths.

But things are different now. This is a new life. A new family.

Right?

a world full of wondrous things, Dani Ardor/Pelle

In the depths of winter, Dani spends some quality time with her family.

Lions and Trevor and Bugs, Oh My!, Ian Grimm/Poppy Li

Ian and Poppy explore their new partnership, along with the standard amount of mayhem they've come to expect.

Periapsis, Vanyel Ashkevron/Tylendel Frelennye

The circus is made up of secrets, known only to a select few. Tylendel himself knows more of them than most.

He runs his thumb along the base of his ring finger. Nothing, not even a scar, betrays the band of binding magic that’s sunk there into his skin. He can feel it if he tries, the loop of it cinched around his very soul. His life is bound into a contest, a game; tied to the circus and to his opponent, whose identity he doesn’t even know.

sick: affected by physical or mental illness; slang for cool, hawt or fabulous, Mabel Mora & Oliver Putnam & Charles Haden-Savage

"I'm sick," Charles tries to say, but his voice is nails on a chalkboard.

"Mabel, see if he has a fever," Oliver says, gesturing.

She rolls her eyes.

the road through the woods, Gregory & Wirt

They come back different. Wirt would like to pretend otherwise.

The Man Who Was an Island, James Hook | James Harrington/Peter Pan | Peter Darling

Peter Pan has grown up and made his peace with James Hook. But what if they didn't go back to England? How will Neverland fare now its egotistical god has a man's strength, a man's consistent determination, and no nemesis to hold him in check?

how the white lilies grow, Phil Burbank/Peter Gordon

Peter lays traps, and is caught in them

#little women #spiderman #fantastic four #scarlet spider #yuletide #yuletide 2021 #midnight mass #midsommar #mythic quest #the night circus #only murders in the building #over the garden wall #peter pan #peter darling #the power of the dog

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lu-undy · 3 years

Text

Un-alone, Chapter 9

Here it is!

“Y’like following rugby, son? I can probably find a channel with it…”

Philip was switching from channel to channel on the remote.

“I like it but not as much as Dad. I’m ok if you wanna watch somethin’ else, eh.”

“Ah, well… Oh, look, that’s the stuff I’m sure your mum would like, heh.”

Mundy and his uncle were on the sofa with a beer.

“Oh yeah, she follows a show like that back home. Y’know the kind where it’s all about drama and all…?”

“Yeah, good thing she’s asleep or she’d have started to follow this one, eh?”

Both chuckled between two sips on their fresh beverage.

“Oh by the way, I wanted to thank you, Micky.”

“What for?” Mundy’s head swung to his uncle.

“It’s nice to have someone help me with the physio exercises. It gets borin’ when I’m on my own. I feel like it’s goin’ better since you’re here.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, it’s not much, eh?”

“Still, makes a difference to me. Thanks, Micky.”

Mundy nodded to his uncle with a smile.

“Mum got tired today, eh?”

“Y’know your mum, restless she is.”

“Yeah…”

“What did you two get to in town this mornin’?” Phil asked and drank a bit more of his beer.

“Ah, uh, Mum wanted to check the big mall she’d seen when she arrived. And we saw it was market day so I drove her there too. Allowed me to have a drive around with the van, get her used to American asphalt, eh?”

“I bet you’re more used to drivin’ in the desert, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“Your mum’s been tellin’ me a lot about your job.”

Mundy’s head swooshed to his uncle.

A half surprised, half apprehensive “Oh…” slipped out of his lips. He averted his eyes.

“Apparently you’re real good… I’m proud, son.”

Mundy’s eyes snapped wide.

“Oh, uh, I mean… Thanks.”

“She even said you worked for the police and all. Y’know, it’s hard for us to admit we’re not big enough for the job and go get help from the outside. You should be proud.”

Mundy nodded but kept his head lowered.

“I’m serious, Micky. I know your parents won’t tell you, but I’m sure at least part of them are proud of you too.”

Mundy blushed and in the dimness of the evening, it was invisible to his uncle.

“I’ve uh…” Philip resumed. “I’ve called back at work.”

“Oh, is there a problem?”

“Nah, I just wanted to know what kind of job they gave you.”

Mundy’s eyebrows jumped.

“You could’ve just asked me.”

“You’d never have answered, Micky.”

“Yeah, well…”

They exchanged a smile.

“So they told you?” Mundy asked.

“They didn’t. They said it was sensitive info.”

“Ah…” Mundy scratched the back of his neck.

“Real proud I am, son. If they call you for stuff like that, then you’re really somethin’!” He gently punched Mundy’s shoulder and the young man chuckled out of nervousness. “C’mon!”

“You told Mum?”

“Nah, I didn’t. She’d worry and make your dad worry with her. But I wanted to chat with you about it. They said they called you in because you’re a brilliant hunter.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.”

“C’mon, quit the modesty, son! You’re amazin’ with a rifle, and talking about your mum, I wanted to ask you somethin’.”

“Yeah?”

“She told me a few things about your work.”

Mundy sighed. He knew it would come, his uncle being proud was too good to be true.

“She’s worried, isn’t she?” He made the call himself.

“Yeah. She’s worried cause-”

“I know, I’m gonna get at the wrong end of a gun one day, I know... “

“Nah, Micky. Not that.”

“What?” Mundy raised a curious eyebrow.

“I mean, yeah, your job’s dangerous and all. But there’s stuff she doesn’t really get about you, you know…?”

“What?” Mundy repeated, oblivious as to where his uncle was going.

“Listen,” Phil lowered the volume on the TV. He looked left and right, as if to make sure that his sister wouldn’t appear out of nowhere. “Your mum’s… not really worried but uh… let’s say curious.”

“About what? Is it about the long trips out with the van?”

“A bit… I mean… Is it for work?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Hunting stuff sometimes takes days, even weeks. But if I know I’m gonna be away for a long time, I sometimes make the trip back home, for Mum and Dad to not get anxious or anything.”

“Why not just tell them straight up that you have to be away for work?”

“Because they don’t like my job.”

“So what? You prefer to go and not say anythin’?”

“Better than pick up another fight with them.” Mundy said. “I’m just tired of it.”

“Of your job?”

“Nah, I love my job. I’m tired with them not likin’ it. I get it, it’s dangerous and I get bruised sometimes. Beasts are rough but… It’s the only thing I know how to do and I love doin’ it. It’s challengin’ work, outdoors. You see beautiful species, get to work with them and all. Beautiful beasts out there in Oz, you know?”

“Look at you… All dreamy eyes and lazy smile.”

Both chuckled. One out of shame in front of his uncle.

“You really like it, it’s awesome.You looked like you were talkin’ about some girl there.”

“Yea-I guess.” Mundy looked away.

“Hey, now, c’mon, it’s alright, don’t go all red and all, eh?”

“Yeah, well…” The nephew scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“Y’know, I fancied a lot of girls back in my days.” Philip started, hoping that Mundy would yield and tell him more about himself. “They looked nice and all but… In all my time, y’know, I was like you now, all red in the face and didn’t really get what they wanted.”

Mundy nodded politely, still uncomfortable.

“But now look at me… Never really managed to talk to them or anything. See, there were a few that were really good.” Philip stared in front of him and Mundy could see that this uncle saw these women in his living-room, as if they were really there. “Oh, they were something, really, and I remember my mum bein’ pushy with me and all…” He shook his head. “Got me in the same state as you are now.” Phil finally made eye-contact with his nephew.

“Hm.”

Philip waited, hoping for Mundy to open up, but to no avail. When the silence became more than awkward, with the low volume on the TV not enough to distract them back to the screen, Phil broke it.

“So, uh… You got anybody?”

“You mean…?”

“Yeah, a girl.”

“N-nah, I don’t.”

There was a pause.

“Anyone in sight?” Phil asked.

“L-look, I’ll uh, I’ll go to bed. It’s late.”

And as furtive as the wind, Mundy went to the guest room and closed the door before sliding between the sheets.

His eyes stayed open and his heart was beating faster than he had let it on. Thank God people couldn’t feel the heat rise on his body, or sense his discomfort. If he had been facing beasts, it would have been a completely different story…

Mundy closed his eyes but his brow was still furrowed.

Ha. It would have happened sooner or later. “The talk”.

Not the teenager edition of it though, no. The grown up one. The “you’re forty, where are my grandkids” one.

The truth was that Mundy had had that argument - not really a discussion at this point - with his father. It was a few years back, he was alone with him, collecting the eggs around the garden on an early morning, giving Caroline a few extra hours of sleep.

“So, son… What about sheilas?”

Mundy’s eyebrows twitched but he kept focused on the task at hand.

“Got anyone you wanna introduce to us?” His father Mike insisted.

“N-nah, not really.”

“Oh… I know we never really talked about it but uh… It’d be nice if you found someone, get yourself a nice sheila and all… Maybe kids?”

Mundy stopped sharp as he was bending down to grab some eggs.

“Have you thought about it?”

“N-nah.”

“I know that findin’ a good sheila these days is pretty hard but uh… I’m sure there are some left. If you’re a good boy, then there must be a good sheila for you!”

Mundy was red on the cheeks. He looked away.

“Son? Hey…”

Mike put a hand on his son’s shoulder to turn him around and face him.

“What is it?”

Mundy raised his eyes to him, he looked and wished he could tell him more. Well, there’s a few things he could tell…

“I uh… They’re complicated.”

“Ho, yeah, they are…!” Mike chuckled and nodded. “When I first met your mum, she was a puzzle and a half to me!”

Mundy smiled. That wasn’t exactly what he had meant but as long as his father got an answer that he deemed satisfactory, then he wouldn’t talk about any of that for a while. He wasn’t proud of it, but that had always been Mundy’s strategy, buying time. Until what? God only knew. One thing was for sure, the Aussie couldn’t tell the truth to his parents. They would never understand and it was hard enough to impose his job on them. He didn’t have the strength and patience to try to impose anything else.

And what was the truth in the end?

Well, to put it simply, Mundy had had a few adventures, here and there, a few girls.

The last one was years ago. Julia she was called. Outgoing, funny, and quite pretty she was. They had met in a pub and of course, she had taken the first step to him, as he went to get a pint after his little performance with the sax.

They had joked and laughed and spent quite a nice evening, all the way till the pub was closing. They found themselves outside, the cold air of the deep night hitting their skin in the most pleasant way after simmering in the hot pub for hours.

"Can you give me a ride home?" She had asked.

"Uh, sure. Me van's right there." Mundy carried his saxophone case in one hand and pointed to his van as they both approached it.

"Wow, that's cool…! Livin' on the roads, huh?"

"Sometimes."

"Free as a bird."

They exchanged a look and a smile as Mundy unlocked it.

"I'll just put the sax back, gimme a sec."

"Oh, uh, can I see what it looks like inside?"

He had blushed.

"Uh, I-I didn't tidy it up or anything. The place is a downright mess right now…"

"Please, c'mon, just to see how you fit in there." She joked.

"What?"

"You're so tall, I'm sure you have to bend down once you're in!"

They chuckled.

"Nah, I don't."

"I don't believe you…" She teased and Mundy sighed. "Right, right, come and have a look then…"

He opened the backdoor and jumped in. He put the saxophone away and as he turned back to Julia, she also had slipped in.

"See how - oh… Uh… I mean…" Mundy was confused. She could have asked before entering and why was she closing the door now? "Julia? Uh… Oh…"

She had walked to him, in the dark, and pushed herself against him. Lacing her hand around his neck, she had pushed herself to the tip of her toes to reach him. She pushed her lips against his and Mundy's eyes snapped wide.

Julia let her hands slowly trail on his polo shirt, while Mundy was petrified, a billion questions fusing in his head.

She pushed him gently until his back was against the ladder leading to his bunk bed. That's when she slid her hands under his shirt and started to feel his bare skin, his stomach, soft, but not too much, his lean chest and his ribs making his skin wave right above them. Hairs on the chest and a trail down his stomach until her fingers bumped on his trousers and belt.

Mundy didn't know how to react, what to say, so he let it happen.

She unbuckled the belt and lost no time. Julia pushed them down, along with his boxer shorts and started pawing at his hips before her hands slid behind. Small but soft, and it all fit in her hands. He felt her smile against his lips. He closed his eyes and frowned.

"C'mon, get up there…" She said, as if she had owned the place, and afraid as he was, Mundy obeyed.

He wasn't scared of Julia herself. He wasn't scared of what she would do to him. Nah, of course not. He was scared of his own body and its reactions.

Or rather, the lack thereof.

When both were on the bed, Mundy started feeling Julia's hot and naked skin against his. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to imagine what he needed.

She went down on him, taking a taste of every bit she pleased until her head was between Mundy's thighs.

"Oh…"

She took it for a moan, but it was only surprise. That sheila was losing no bloody time.

She worked on him and Mundy tried. He waved his hips in rhythm, shutting his eyes and curling up his toes, holding his breath. His efforts got him sweating and more embarrassed by the minute.

At some point of course, she stopped. Not because she didn't want to proceed, but because Mundy's body wasn't reacting at all. He wasn't moaning, he wasn't relaxing, he wasn't enjoying himself.

"Is there a problem?"

Her voice made Mundy's eyes snap open in a fraction of a second. He felt ashamed, embarrassed beyond what words could describe. God damn it! Even drunk he couldn't fake it! Even trying to picture someone else in her stead he couldn't get his body to warm up to the idea?!

"N-nah, I mean…"

"Don't lie to me, Mundy. It's been a long while of me ignoring it but I can't do anythin' to you. You don't like it or what?"

"No, nah, I do like it, it's just… uh…"

"So it's me? You don't like me? You find me ugly or somethin'?"

Mundy's eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see Julia's naked silhouette. All the curves were where a man would dream them to be.

"No, you look fine - I mean, you look great…"

"Look, just be honest with me or I can just leave and get back home."

She waited and Mundy's brain was running faster than a hamster in a wheel.

"Uh - I mean…. Uhm…"

He tried to find a way to say the words but his mouth was petrified, his skull was pressing hard on his brain and his vision had tunnelled to her eyes.

"M'sorry…" He said and looked away.

"Fuck's sake…" She sighed and got down his bed before dressing up hastily and leaving, slamming the door shut on her way out.

Mundy was left as he was right now: on his bed alone, thinking about himself.

Bloody hell.

He had tried everything with sheilas, nothing had worked. He had tried to go for tomboys, for the most masculine of them all, trying to convince himself that they were his style but no. As close to a man as he found them, they were never a man.

The Aussie turned in his bed and now faced the wall, in his uncle's guest room.

He had tried very hard, for his parents, for himself. He had tried cheap magazines with all kinds of girls, he had let his friends set him up with women they thought would suit him.

It was always the same. The same bloody curse.

Chatting was fine. More than that? He didn't feel like it.

He had stopped seeing his friends. He had run out of excuses to give them as to why the girls they sent him didn't suit him. They had stopped looking for him too, they just thought he was atrociously picky and naturally, the distance grew between those people that Mundy once used to call “mates”.

Between his parents not liking his job one bit and his friends not understanding him either, Mundy found himself alone. At times, he wished it was different but most of the time, he lived perfectly in his little bubble.

It was only when people challenged his bubble, came a bit too close with a needle and poked, that he retracted within himself, like a snail to his shell.

Thinking about that night with Julia again, he felt it all come back to him. The indescribable shame, the look she had given him of disappointment, frustration, and the fact that he had led her to think that she could have more fun time with him, a lie? Nah, he had never dropped any, uh, hints, or anything to make her believe that he wanted her on his bed and between his legs, fiddling with his intimacy, in vain.

Mundy could hardly face the truth himself.

On the occasion of his body asking him to take care of his needs, he would close his eyes and imagine a tone and lean body, soft skin of any color, he couldn’t care less. The only thing he asked of that image, was that it was of a… male body. No feminine curves, no tiny waist for large hips. Mundy liked a bit of hair on his model, on the chest, on his forearms, his thighs and of course, in between them.

He fantasised vividly about the lean silhouette slowly peeling his clothes off of himself, the fabrics gently sliding down like the petals of a flower that opens to reveal all its colours. Oh Gosh, the shoulders, slightly smaller than his own, a thin waist, the V-line on the hips that slipped under his trousers… Bloody hell.

Mundy closed his eyes.

The silhouette turned to give him his back and he heard the metallic click of a belt being unbuckled, before he saw the trousers follow the thin legs all the way down to the floor in front of him. As he raised his eyes again, he saw that the underwear had been pushed down too and his gaze met with what had some effect on his body.

Mundy bit his lip.

In his mind, he extended his hands and touched, just a graze of the tip of his calloused fingers on the man’s backside before he cupped it and squeezed. Mmh, soft, yet one could feel the underlying muscle. He pulled him closer and the silhouette turned to face him. Bloody hell, what a sight…

Mundy went on in his dream and fell asleep.

A thought had always stood at the back of his mind, whenever he imagined what his body wanted. He had never imagined the face, never imagined anything that could make that person special or recognisable. And it was crucial that it stayed that way. Mundy didn’t want to imagine anything specific.

It could be anyone, he could be him, he could be that one, it could even be...

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #unalone

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

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Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 11

A special thanks to @statell for your help and wisdom

Previous chapters on AO3

Chapter Eleven- 1747

We welcomed the second spring since our arrival, and it was so much sweeter this year. Faith was growing and strong, Glavia and Misses Crook were happy and busy planting the garden which had grown to double its original size. Murtagh and Jamie had built a reputation as Carpenters and laborers, so once spring melted the snow they were in constant demand in the area. I would sit and talk with them in the morning until a pickup truck swung into the yard and they jumped in the back. Jamie would stare at me with a half-smile until I could no longer see his eyes.

Misses Crook took up exercise after watching a Doctor Phil program where he preached the merits of cardiovascular fitness. After that, she would tune into an exercise program Monday through Friday from seven to eight in the morning. Baritone would do it with her when he was here, looking like a chiseled Greek god in his shorts and muscle shirt. Misses Crook would look at the back wall blushing crimson if he spoke to her. He figured it out after the first week and switched to a sweatsuit that covered every beautiful inch.

Glavia would go to the library with me or Baritone once a week and check new books out. She was a voracious reader and loved fiction set in earlier centuries as well as history. I pulled her into the community center in Edinburgh to watch a woman weave a basket in the old tradition. Glavia shook her head back and forth grabbing rattan shavings and weaving an intricate design with steady, fast hands. At first, I was horrified that she would start talking about the eighteenth century like she had lived in it, but Glavia understood we were living on the down-low and winked at me as the women gathered closer to her to learn her pattern. She was a social butterfly when given the chance and the women loved her. Soon she was asked to teach her own class and I would spend Saturday mornings window shopping until she was finished.

As summer warmed the growing fields, Jamie’s skin turned a gorgeous bronze and I could not keep my hands off of him. Any room with a door, be it a barn, or the laundry room was fair play during the day. The game of seduction would start when he walked naked through the bedroom to grab his clothes for the day. He would nuzzle my neck and his hair would drip cold water on my shoulder making my eyes slam open and kiss him good morning. If he came home for a snack he would linger in the barn, knowing I would follow him for a sweet kiss fest. He would grind his erection into me and promise me a slow trip to the angels after dinner.

It was the happiest I ever remembered being, maybe in my whole life. There was not a thing to stress us and cause argument, emotional distance, worry, or fright. All we felt was love and happiness. It was magical.

The daily energy and flow of the household stayed the same in this century. After dinner, we would find our own rooms to read, sew, talk, or make love before a restful eight hours of sleep. They all knew the television worked around the clock, but no one had any interest after supper. It was part of what made these people strong and resilient, twelve hours of work and twelve hours of rest.

I wasn’t thinking about the future or leaving this century. Not when the long days of summer were warm, we were healthy, and Lallybroch served all our needs. Midway through August, we were harvesting the last of the vegetables, ready to prepare and process all of it in Mason jars for storage in the basement. Faith was playing nearby and clapped her hands jumping up and down pointing.

“Mutagh! Mutagh!”

I walked to Faith and looked in the direction she pointed as the bottom of my stomach fell away. His face was bright red from running and I could see he was panting. I shouted at Glavia to take Faith and started running toward Murtagh. The closer I got to him the more dread I felt. Something was very wrong, I could feel it.

“Claire! They took Jamie!”

“Who took him?”

“The man said the police, right after Jamie hit him.”

“What? Why did Jamie hit someone?” I could see Murtagh was struggling for breath and waited with my questions for several minutes.

“Jamie stepped between the owner of the house and his wife, who he struck right in front of us. The man took a swing at Jamie and, well ye know how that went. Jamie dropped him with a punch to his jaw and the wife ran in the house and called the police. Said we came up on them and beat up her husband. They are still there and Jamie is in the back of their car.”

I was running now, as fast as I could. Murtagh pointed the direction of the house and I jumped in the jeep and sped toward the house, picking up Murtagh on the way. There were three squad cars in the driveway with blinking lights and I rolled my eyes at the show of force. I saw Jamie in a closed squad car with his hands behind his back and felt my blood boil. In the fifteen feet it took me to reach the front door of the house I pushed back on my anger and took several deep breaths.

An officer opened the door and I could hear the man telling his side of the story, about two men that walked into their yard and accosted them. We were escorted inside and the conversation hushed as we walked into the kitchen. I could see the man was drunk and I looked around for the wife.

“I am Claire Fraser, this is my uncle, and my husband is in the squad car. This man hired Jamie and Murtagh to build his pasture and fence. They have been here daily for a week.”

When I took a breath, I noticed the officers were listening to me and the man was just blinking in my direction. So I pressed on.

“This man got drunk and started beating on his wife. Jamie stepped between them and punched this idiot to make him stop swinging. Where is your wife, sir? I think it’s important to get her side of the story.”

An officer called up the stairs for her to come down. It took several minutes and a second call, but she finally walked into the kitchen. Long sleeves and a scarf knotted at her neck seemed overdressed for the warm day. An officer asked her to explain what happened and she stuck to the story of two drifters coming upon them and beating on her husband.

I had enough of this situation and stood in front of the woman asking why she was lying. When I grabbed her arm and pushed her sleeve up, she tried to jerk away from me, but it was too late. Dark bruising up and down her arm was ample evidence of spousal abuse. I asked her to remove her scarf and she refused.

“Take your scarf off!”

The woman tried to run out of the kitchen only to be blocked by officers. They kindly asked her to remove her scarf revealing bruises in the shape of fingers around her neck.

“Jesus Christ. How did that happen?”

An officer was putting handcuffs on the man and leading him outside. This poor woman was strangled by her husband and by the looks of the bruising, fairly recently. I followed them outside and saw Jamie being released, I ran to him pushing him and Murtagh toward the jeep, and politely avoided any questions from the officers. I shook my head yes at them and drove away hoping they would not be pounding on my door in the next hour.

Catastrophe averted, barely. They asked for Jamie’s ID and he told them it was at home. It bought enough time for me to get there and set the story straight. But it scared me. All of these people in my charge were vulnerable because there was no record of them, no identification, they didn’t exist in this century. It concerned me for the rest of the day, and by dinner time I was deep in my head.

“Come Sassenach, Faith is asleep and I am needin a walk with ye.”

We walked the dirt roads for thirty minutes without saying a word. I realized Jamie was troubled also and broke the ice.

“That was a close call this afternoon, but it ended fine and I am so proud of you for standing up to that man.” I squeezed his arm and looked up at a troubled face.

“What are we doin here Sassenach? I am grateful for a safe place to heal and rest, but it has been long enough. Can we talk about what is ahead for us?”

I tried to think of all the reasons we should stay in this century and realized I didn’t want to stay. I was ready to go back to a safe place in the eighteenth century and resume our lives. I didn’t offer any opposition and encouraged Jamie to express his wishes for going back.

“Before I was taken, I planned to bring you all to the plantation owned by my aunt Jocasta in the new world. North Carolina is what she called it. She wrote to me sayin we were all welcome. There are Scottish immigrants flooding into the country and we would find our people there. She mentioned there would be work for me, possibly managing the plantation.”

“I’m sorry we can’t go back to Scotland Jamie. I’m sorry you won’t see your home again. As it is, we are risking our lives going back to find a ship for America.”

I shivered at the thought of popping back into Scotland and an army of redcoats wanting Jaime with a rope around his neck. I thought about taking Faith into that horror and stopped dead in my tracks. I could not catch my breath suddenly and Jamie instinctively reached behind me for my corset laces, instead feeling just my skin under my light t-shirt.

“What is it Sassenach, what’s amiss?”

“Even if I could get us right to the docks I am terrified, Jamie. I don’t want to bring Faith into that kind of danger. No, we can’t.”

He held my hand as we walked and reaching Lallybroch, we had not spoken again. When we laid in bed, I was too preoccupied to notice how silent we both were. It wasn’t until I was drifting off to sleep that my mind snapped to a thought and I sat up, pressing Jamie to wake up.

“What if we can avoid Scotland altogether and go straight to North Carolina in 1747?”

“Can ye do it mo chridhe?”

“It has to be a place familiar to me, I think because I always concentrate on the place and time when we travel.“ I thought for a minute. “It’s time to get acquainted with North Carolina before we go back. Not to worry love, I almost have it figured out.”

I kissed Jamie and let him empty my mind of scary things and take me to the angels. I didn’t want to think anymore tonight, so I didn’t.

“I’m going alone the first time Jamie.”

“No, lass.”

“Please Jamie, I won’t risk anyone else until I can navigate our landing in America. I have a plan to help me do it.”

Jamie was decidedly unhappy about the idea and I hoped his desire to go back would help him accept my going alone. We spent the week in the library, looking at pictures of North Carolina and studying the land and riverways to Jocasta’s plantation. I looked at so many pictures I started to feel I had been there and that was precisely what I wanted. I checked out as many books as I could and continued my study at night when the house was quiet.

North Carolina was in my mind almost every waking hour before long. I found a perfect place to pop into and I was ready to make my first attempt. I mentioned during dinner that I was ready for a test run. When dishes were done, I climbed the stairs to our room and found Jamie standing in front of our closet with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I think tomorrow is a perfect time to pop into North Carolina Jamie, but I will need my rocks that are in that closet. Could they be the reason you won’t budge from the door?”

“No, lass, ye wilna be goin alone. Take me or dinna go at all.”

“Well,” I teased, “you can’t stand there all night.”

He dropped to the floor and curled up, his back to the closet door. The stubborn Scot would be there until the snow fell this winter, that I knew. With a deep sigh, I promised him we would go together, tomorrow, and coaxed him to bed.

I greeted the new day with trepidation and uncertainty. What if we materialized in the middle of the ocean or inside a volcano? I kept my thoughts on the pictures of North Carolina and prayed. I hugged everyone extra-long and went outside to join Jamie and my sack of rocks. He looked calm but I could tell he was shaking inside. Jamie never traveled when he was conscious, or alive for the matter. I assured him we would be fine. Behind the barn, we held each other, and I put a rock in my hand while I concentrated. I heard the wind rushing in my ears and felt the pressure on my body as we hurled through space.

I gripped Jamie’s middle and looked up to see his eyes closed and his face pale.

“Jamie, are you alright?”

He opened one eye to look at me. “It’s alright Sassenach, we can try again tomorrow.”

“Jamie, I think we’re here.”

He was already moving his head from side to side looking at landmarks we had seen in the books. He was still pale, but his smile was a relief to see. We found a good place to hide the rocks and set out for the rental place right across the street to rent a car. We told everyone at home we would call the cell phone when we got here so they wouldn’t worry. We planned to be exploring for several days so I could find something common to both centuries to use for navigation.

I never figured we would have so much fun driving through the North Carolina countryside, staying at quaint bed and breakfast locations, and generally living life like we had no responsibilities except to each other.

We found Jocasta’s plantation, now a historical museum that boasted furnishings of the original family. Jamie pulled me aside to warn me against looking at any dates. Knowing the year someone died is not a burden we should bear. When I stopped to read a bio on the original family Jamie whisked me away from it before I saw the date of his aunt’s death.

We found the perfect place to land our little family. A large rock outcropping that was surely unchanged for the past two centuries. We bought chicken in a bucket and lazed on the rock for the afternoon. When the sun was setting, I looked at Jamie and told him I was ready. We returned the car and found my rocks in the dark before hugging for the trip home.

We went back two more times during September and landed on the rock on both occasions. It was time. When spring chased the winter away, we would go back, and I would leave my birth century for the second time.

During Hogmanay, I considered at this time next year we would be back in 1747, hopefully, happy and busy building our new life and Faith would have forgotten her time spent in the future, God willing.

I bought bolts of fabric, cotton, and wool to make dresses and suits common to the time. During the cold winter months, we sewed by the fire and spoke of home. Our corsets were retrieved from drawers where they had laid for the past two years and the only one who smiled was Misses Crook. Try as she might, the future held no happiness for her.

Joe and Baritone spent two glorious weeks with us in the spring and he told me all about what he was doing, who he was treating, and the remarkable equipment he had made for clinical trials. I was bursting with pride in his accomplishments and knew he would lead an extraordinary life. The time with them was bittersweet and there were several mornings I crawled in Joe’s lap so I would remember the sound of his voice, the way he smelled, and the way he calmed me.

We cleaned the house thoroughly while Jamie and Murtagh did the same in the barn. Jamie led me outside to say goodbye to Donus and Brimstone and I held them and cried until he pulled me away. We each had two outfits and wore them both taking one string bag with necessities. When we gathered in the yard I held onto Joe like I would never let him go, and I cried like my heart was breaking because it was.

“Be fierce and happy in your new life Pet. I will think of you every day for the rest of my life.”

I thought I would chatter on and on before letting him go but I couldn’t speak at all, so I just looked up at his handsome face. “I left you something on your bedside table, Joe. A part of me will always stay right beside you, don’t forget that.”

A lingering hug for Baritone and then I joined my group linking arms and praying. I pulled the big rock from my sack and closed my eyes feeling the sensation of movement, hearing the roaring wind in my ears, and squeezing those arms I was linked to. I concentrated on a picture, an artist’s rendering, of the immigrants disembarking in North Carolina in 1747 and our landing rock. I had no sense of time or space, just pressure against my body, like I would imagine G force would feel, and the loud rushing in my ears.

When the party disappeared, Baritone led Joe back into the house where he quickly went to his room where a small box laid on his side table. He lifted the lid and saw writing on the inside. My dearest Joe, Do not touch this stone until you want to find me. Just close your eyes and think of me then hold the stone. All my love, Claire

Joe tipped the box at Baritone. “In case we ever want to find her…”

It felt like we were flying through space and time for much too long. When the pressure lifted, I finally felt the solid earth under my feet and opened my eyes. I blinked several times as the image of the others was blurry and started spinning. The last thing I remember was hitting my head on the rock.

“Sassenach! Sassenach open yer eyes lass!”

I looked up at Jamie noticing I was now in the shade near our landing rock. I searched for Faith and was filled with terror when I couldn’t see her.

“Where is Faith?”

“She is over there Sassenach, exploring.”

Jamie helped me up and pointed at Faith picking wildflowers and chasing butterflies. I was shocked that Jamie would let her wander like that until I realized there was no threat to her safety here. No water to fall into, no hills to hide her, no vehicles, no dogs, and no people other than us. Just nature’s embrace that thrilled this little girl at the moment.

Once we had our bearings, we set off to find Aunt Jocasta’s plantation and begin the next chapter of our lives. Jamie walked on one side of me and Murtagh on the other, taking turns holding Faith. I smiled at them both, feeling safe, excited, and something else I could not put my finger on.

I recognized the big house that now stood on a vast expanse of land with dozens of people working in the fields as far as the eye could see. All this land had been consumed by a growing population and a modernized world in 2019. I decided it looked much better in this century. Aunt Jocasta opened her door and her heart to all of us. She was overjoyed we had survived the clearances and risky sail from Scotland. I smiled and said little when she talked of our journey and with no one offering any stories of our crossing she would drop the matter in favor of something else.

There were servants throughout the house ready to fetch or assist with whatever was needed. I mentioned to Misses Crook and Glavia that I wouldn’t mind if they preferred to stay in the employ of Aunt Jocasta. They both went white-faced and shook their heads before they vaporized. I thought that was odd. Perhaps they heard the pay was not enough for them to leave us.

I have never seen Faith so happy. She is free to roam where she wants, always within eyesight of an adult. To Faith, it felt like no constraints and she explored her surroundings with great interest. This life was idyllic and civilized. I was so happy here.

One afternoon I passed through the kitchen when the cooks were getting dough ready for pies. I pushed my sleeves up to my elbows and rinsed my hands in the water barrel before grabbing a round ball of dough to roll flat. The cooks were wide-eyed, almost frightened by my actions and shook their heads rapidly. One of them held my hands down and thanked me but rushed me to the door leading into the parlor. That was odd, my being summarily dismissed from the kitchen.

When Faith was napping in the afternoon, Jamie led me outside to a delightful bench swing that hung from a low branch. We sat in the dappled shade and talked about how lovely it was on the plantation.

“My aunt has asked me to stay on as her manager. We would live here in this house and be at her beck and call I imagine.”

“Maybe we could view it as a place to start Jamie, not forever, but until we know what we are looking for.”

“I know what I’m looking for Sassenach. It’s somewhere in those mountains. A large piece of land where we will gather the Highlanders to us and build strong homes for our families, plant fields we clear and cultivate. Invest in our community and heritage.”

His eyes were on fire when he talked, and I could see and hear his conviction. I would not block his way to this dream no matter how wonderful life was on the plantation. I sighed deeply and squared my shoulders before looking at my love.

“Well, I hope I can hire quality help like Jocasta has when we finish our big house in the mountains.”

Jamie cleared his throat and looked at me strangely. “Ah…they arna hired help Sassenach, they dinna work for Aunt Jocasta.”

“Who do they work for then?”

“No one, love. They are owned by my aunt. They’re slaves.”

“They’re what?!” I was standing suddenly, feeling the air evacuate from my lungs. “All these people are slaves? Oh dear God. How could she?”

I looked from person to person or rather slave to slave, puffing to get enough air to feed my ramming heart. I watched them toil in the fields, carry large bunches of tobacco leaves to a waiting wagon. Their shirts were soaked with sweat, torn and filthy and I wondered if they were allowed to stop in the shade for a minute or get a cool drink.

Jamie had said something so foreign and discordant with my reality I was trying to force it into my brain. And then I heard it, like a bolt of lightning to my spine. The sound was a loud crack from a bullwhip that surely delivered a payload of pain. I felt Jamie’s hands around my waist, pushing me back to the bench swing, talking softly in my ear, holding onto my hands, holding me down, forcing me to accept this horrific scene.

“This can’t be! Aunt Jocasta is a sweet woman who would never own people and force them to work. She…she wouldn’t do that Jamie. You’re mistaken!”

“Sassenach, listen to me. They are slaves, purchased by my aunt to keep this plantation thriving. It is not a pleasant thing, but I am sure she cares for them and provides for their needs. Mo chridhe, you look about to burst at the seams and ye worry me, breathe and relax.”

I looked back at the field where the man was whipped. There was blood on the back of his shirt, and he winced in pain but kept working. I scanned the other bodies and came to rest on a fat white man with the whip in his hands.

“Over…over…overseer, cracker, forced labor, no value, servitude until dead.” I knew I was babbling and stood up suddenly telling Jamie I was ready to leave. “I need to leave this place, now Jamie. I will not spend another moment in that house with your aunt. Let’s go.”

He tried to push me back to the swing, but I avoided his hands and stood my ground. If I had one of my rocks I would have vanished from this horrible place and gone anywhere without slavery.

“Sassenach, we will go but I need some time to speak to my aunt. I think we should leave Glavia, Faith, and Misses Crook here while we scout for land. Claire, it is a terrible thing but we canna run away. There’s nothin to run to.”

He finally talked me into the house where I stayed upstairs with Faith or read in my room giving Jamie time to speak to his aunt. I felt miserable about escaping this place when the slaves never would and prayed they would not be harmed or killed by that wicked man with the whip.

Jamie and I waved goodbye three days later from a borrowed wagon climbed into the North Carolina mountains. Murtagh rode alongside of the wagon and occasionally rode ahead or cut into the woods to see a homestead. We went higher and higher and the temperature cooled enough for me to grab a shawl aunt Jocasta gave me. By afternoon, the air was thinner and cooler. There was so much to see that reminded me of Scotland, but Jamie continued up the mountain and I wondered if we might find the tree line soon.

When the wagon finally stopped Murtagh looked at Jamie and smiled. Jamie looked like he found the garden of Eden and I frankly, could not see the difference in this land and the miles below we had traveled through.

“Come Sassenach.”

Jamie led me through the mountainside, pointing out the rich black soil, a healthy flowing stream, areas easy to clear for building houses and planting fields.

“Jamie, can we just settle here without permission or purchase?”

“Nah, I’ll make a deal with the devil for it Sassenach, and we will prosper here in spite of it.”

That didn’t sound good at all I decided but I would stick to my resolve and not stand between Jamie and his dream. I stayed quiet and supportive when he looked to me for that.

I didn’t know who he would sell his soul to, but he knew about the Revolutionary war that was coming and would surely avoid any military commitment in exchange for the land. I was anxious to get back to town so Jamie could claim this property and I could make peace with what he promised in return.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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The 25 Best SNL Holiday Sketches

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

The holidays are a special time around 30 Rock. While tourists flock to see the towering Christmas tree, the Saturday Night Live writers room is busy thinking of holiday sketches you’ll reminisce about as you put up the stockings for years to come. Some of SNL’s all-time great sketches illustrate the best of the holiday spirit or lack thereof as show’s biggest stars often shined the brightest just before the New Year.

From unlikely Santas to unorthodox gift-giving, we’re looking at 25 of our favorite Saturday Night Live holiday sketches. We’ll be going in chronological order here. There is a big dose of modern stuff in there, but what can I say? The show might be more miss than hit these days, but they really hit it out of the park year after year with the Christmas sketches.

Santi-Wrap (1976)

Very early in the show’s run, we get this classic where an adult woman (Laraine Newman) is all about sitting on Santa’s lap like when she was a little kid. The initial laugh is that before sitting down, she puts pieces of toilet paper on Santa’s leg for protection, like one would do in a public bathroom. Dan Aykroyd, her companion on this trip, seems shocked by this. Not that she’s trying to protect herself from germs, but because she’s not going far enough!

Suddenly, it turns out to be a commercial for Santi-Wrap, a festive and plasticky take on toilet seat covers. Not only do those two sell the product concept so well, but John Belushi as the mall Santa pushes it further by coming off as a complete disaster of a man who is probably riddled with disease.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

One of the show’s all-time best line deliveries is Belushi’s drunken, “Ho ho ho…” which has both defiant gusto and the sense that he’s seconds away from vomiting all over himself.

Mr. Robinson’s Christmas (1984)

Saturday Night Live has been a stepping stone to superstardom ever since Chevy Chase became a household name during its first season. In the 80s, Eddie Murphy’s recurring roles on SNL helped raise his profile as he eventually became one of, if not the biggest star of the decade. It was around Christmas time when Murphy’s spin on Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood became one of the sketches that came to define his tenure at Studio 8H.

Mr. Robinson’s neighborhood isn’t quite as nice as Mister Rogers’ but at Christmas time you have to make the best with what you have. Mr. Robinson was able to do that with a chunk of lettuce and a headless doll and Murphy was able to make the most of every opportunity he had on SNL.

It’s a Wonderful Life: The Lost Ending (1986)

If you’ve seen the 1946 American Christmas classic It’s A Wonderful Life, odds are you’ve been inspired by its heart-warming ending. Thanks to SNL and host William Shatner, we now have footage of the “fabled” lost ending to Frank Capra’s Christmas epic and it’s anything but heartwarming. Rather than end the film with everyone coming to George Bailey’s aid in his time of need and celebrating his lifetime of selflessness and kindness, it decides to give Mr. Potter a fate more explicit than being doomed to failure and loneliness. Phil Hartman pops in as Uncle Billy and not only remembers what happened to the missing money, but knows exactly who has it!

Dana Carvey makes the sketch as a George Bailey hell-bent on revenge. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without seeing him give Mr. Potter a beat down alongside his bloodthirsty loved ones.

Master Thespian Plays Santa Claus (1987)

Jon Lovitz’s characters were usually very hammy by design. Whether he was a pathological liar or the Devil himself, he always went to 11. One of his better recurring characters was Master Thespian, a scene-chewing Shakespearean actor who takes himself and his roles far too seriously.

In this installment, he would be playing the role of a mall Santa Claus.

Thespian doesn’t seem to have heard of Santa, but he’s down for the part. Finding out that there’s no actual script, he improvises and figures out the character via making mistakes and getting scolded by the Macy’s manager (played by Phil Hartman, choosing to base his performance on Frank Nelson because why not). To his surprise, Santa Claus actually LIKES children! These are notes a performer needs to know, man!

Seeing him play off the kids and Hartman is a blast. Speaking of which, one of the better gags is a fart joke that somehow proves how great an actor Master Thespian truly is. THANK YOUUUUUU!

Hanukkah Harry (1989)

Santa Claus (Phil Hartman) is violently ill with the flu, so it seems Christmas might be cancelled. Luckily, there is one man capable of fulfilling his obligations through the same kind of holiday magic. Hanukkah Harry (Jon Lovitz), Santa’s Jewish counterpart, is called in to help.

At its core, it’s a lengthy sketch about Jewish jokes and how lame Hanukkah is outside of it lasting eight days. Springing off of that, it actually makes for a really good, if a little touching, holiday story. There are definite laughs in there, but what was created to be a parody hits a little too close and becomes a genuine gem celebrating both holidays and the spirit of togetherness.

“On Moishe! On Herschel! On Schlomo!”

Motivational Santa (1993)

What started as a pep talk for troubled teens turned into Chris Farley’s iconic recurring character. Matt Foley, the thrice-divorced, sweaty, overweight man who lived in a van down by the river, crashed into our living rooms in 1993 and remained a fixture on SNL until Farley was fired from the show in 1995.

Sometimes a sketch is so successful that the writers are almost forced to bring one or more of its characters around again and Matt Foley was no exception. In one of the funnier times Matt Foley returned, he was hired to spread Christmas cheer as a motivational mall Santa, offering up this gem:

“‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the van Your ol’ buddy Matt fell asleep on the can. His children were nestled two time zones away, With his first wife and her husband, in sunny L.A. Matt woke up and realized with a chill and a quiver That he was living in a van down by the river!“

Though many of the same jokes and physical gags are recycled, Farley’s effort, from the painfully high pitch of his voice to crashing down the chimney, earns the Motivational Santa a place in SNL Christmas lore.

Adam Sandler’s Hanukkah Song (1994)

Yes, we’ve heard Adam Sandler’s “The Hanukkah Song” a million times over, but we shouldn’t let that cloud our judgement. It’s one of the first clips that pops into your head when you think “SNL Holiday Sketches” and it will go down as a landmark moment when the history of “Weekend Update” is written 200 years from now. Sandler didn’t use his time to evoke images of being a Jew at Christmas, rather he chose to praise the Festival of Lights and name-drop all the famous people who celebrate it. Since debuting the song in 1994, Sandler’s updated it for his comedy albums and standup routine and given Jewish kids something other than “The Dreidel Song” to belt during during the holidays. Sandler’s clever, original moment is about as influential as it gets for any not-ready-for-prime time player.

It did lead to the movie Eight Crazy Nights, so it isn’t free from sin.

TV Funhouse: Fun with Real Audio (1997)

It’s rare for SNL to get poignant, but here’s a fantastic example. In this animated short, Jesus Christ returns to Earth and spends the first opening minutes being ignored and shoved into the background for disagreeing with televangelists who use his name to line their pockets with donations or to justify their hatred of homosexuals. These bits are, of course, animated over actual audio of said real life sociopaths. Jesus is able to give them their just desserts with his divine magic, but it bums him out.

Walking the city streets, unnoticed by the public at large, Jesus watches Christmas-themed TV through a store window and is disappointed with what he sees. That is, until he comes across Linus’ speech at the end of A Charlie Brown Christmas and we get a final moment that’s adorable, uplifting, and pretty hilarious.

NPR’S Delicious Dish: Schweddy Balls (1998)

The dry, NPR-host banter between Ana Gasteyer’s Margaret Jo McCullen — who cheerfully admits that she leaves tap water and rice out for Santa because “Christmas foods really wreak havoc on the ol’ digestive system” — and Molly Shannon’s Teri Rialto as they discuss delectable Yuletide “balls” with Alec Baldwin’s Pete Schweddy is a can’t-miss skit. The trio makes monotone an art form, while remaining dedicated to the naivety of the characters involved. (In response to Alec Baldwin’s, “But the thing I most like to bring out this time of year are my balls,” their faces barely twitch.) It’s double entendre at its finest, and never fails to leave me in stitches.

Pete Schweddy returned in another episode where he introduced the women to his hotdogs, but having them show so much interest in putting his wiener in their mouths was a little too easy a joke to pull off.

I Wish It Was Christmas Today (2000-the heat death of the universe)

On one December episode, there was a short segment of Horatio Sanz, Jimmy Fallon, Chris Kattan, and Tracy Morgan playing a catchy, albeit incredibly stupid song about Christmas being on the way. Sanz played a skinny guitar while singing, Fallon occasionally pressed an elephant noise button on the keyboard, Kattan held the keyboard while shaking his head, and Morgan danced with a look on his face like he got dragged on stage against his will. It was silly and would have probably been forgotten soon after.

Instead, they returned a week later and insisted on playing it again despite being explicitly told not to. Soon they would start playing it during non-December months to show Christmas’ superiority over other holidays. After Simon Cowell insulted the group, he sheepishly agreed that he wanted to join them and broke out some maracas. One year, when Sanz was the only one left in the cast, he replaced his buddies with Fozzie Bear, Gonzo, and Animal while Kermit the Frog danced in a way that you have to wonder if a Muppet is capable of snorting coke.

The song still gets brought out now and then, usually on Fallon’s show. It’s even been covered by Julian Casablancas and Cheap Trick of all people!

They did sing a completely different Christmas song one time, but nobody cared.

Glengarry Glen Elf: Christmas Motivation (2005)

Alec Baldwin seems to be the go-to host for classic Christmas sketches. Playing on his iconic Glengarry Glen Ross character Blake, Baldwin (in a way) reprises the role as 615-year-old “elf from the home office” sent to straighten out the subpar work of Santa’s elves. There couldn’t have been a more perfect break in character than when Baldwin says “Always Be Closing” instead of “Always Be Cobbling” as scripted. It’s a slip-up that makes for a perfect holiday sketch, full of deep-bellied laughs.

TV Funhouse: Christmastime for the Jews (2005)

Not only is the witty “Christmas for the Jews” written by comedy legend Robert Smigel, but it’s sung by David Letterman’s Christmas angel Darlene Love. In “Christmas for the Jews,” the characters see “Fiddler on the Roof,” grab an early dinner, and enjoy dreamland Daily Show reruns. It’s an intriguing and catchy look at the other side of the Christmas season, complete with a very Rankin-Bass animation style.

Digital Short: Dick in a Box (2006)

Justin Timberlake is one of the most entertaining, versatile hosts that SNL has been gifted. A member of their prestigious Five-Timers Club, “Dick in a Box” is Timberlake’s most memorable sketch, filled with skeevy, disgusting come-ons from Andy Samberg and Timberlake, which has been viewed just millions and millions of times. In 2006, Timberlake had already impressed critics and viewers alike with his acting range in Alpha Dog, but his comedic turns on SNL solidified him as an actor. Timberlake has done a lot of impressive things in his time as an entertainer, but there are few more enjoyable (or laughable) than “Dick in a Box.”

These two R&B weirdos would return later on to sleep with each other’s moms as reciprocated Mother’s Day presents and later swear that being in a two-guy/one-girl three-way isn’t considered gay.

John Malkovich Reads ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (2008)

As quipped by the man himself, no one emits Christmas spirit quite like John Malkovich. This admission yields the self-reflexive irony of Malkovich reading “The Night Before Christmas” to the children of SNL’s staff. Malkovich, pausing during his reading of the holiday classic, asks the children about the suicide rate rising during the holidays, talking about how shooting a home invader in California is “perfectly legal,” musing about how the tonnage of Santa’s sleigh and reindeer would (scientifically speaking) burst into flames, how in Portugal their version of Saint Nicholas steals children’s toes, as well as reciting the gem: “You know what they say about hopes; they’re what we cling to when reality has left us nothing else.” If you’re in a lighthearted Christmas mood, Malkovich’s monologue is certainly one to enjoy.

Stefon on Holiday Travel (2010)

Bill Hader was highly respected for his versatility and range during his time at SNL, but it was his improvisational skills that turned a Weekend Update bit into a must-see recurring segment. Stefon, likely the defining character for SNL during the 2010s thus far, informed New Yorkers and tourists alike of the city’s hottest nightclubs – with Hader almost always breaking down in laughter as his cue cards were frequently changed from the rehearsal to throw him off.

Stefon knew how to get weird and you can imagine he’d save some fun things for the a “classic New York holiday.” Make sure to check out the Lower, Lower East Side dump hosted by Tranderson Cooper or find a club with the right amount of Puerto Rican Screeches or Gay Aladdins. Just don’t run over the Human Parking Cones.

Stefon would return with more Christmastime insight three years later, where he’d discuss a club called [loud Tauntaun noises], founded by Jewish cartoon character Menorah the Explorer.

Under-Underground Crunkmas Karnival (2010)

Good God, I wish there were more Under-Underground Records sketches. As a parody of the Gathering of the Juggalos, we’d regularly see DJ Supersoak (Jason Sudeikis) and Lil Blaster (Nasim Pedrad) excitedly talk up huge concert events that are needlessly violent and inexplicable in their randomness. For instance, there’s the Crunkmas Karnival, which features such musical acts as Dump, Boys II Dicks, Scrotum Fire, and…Third Eye Blind for some reason.

It’s just a bunch of loud humor that goes back and forth between being stupidly hardcore and being meekly out of left field. Yes, you can go check out a “dong tug-of-war,” but you can also see a special 2D screening of the Owls of Ga’hoole or meet Spaceballs star Pizza the Hut. Not to mention the return of their most fondly remembered running gag, the endless undying and dying of Ass Dan.

This Christmas-based event will take place in February. Sounds about right.

Ornaments (2011)

Every now and then, SNL will do a sketch towards the end of the show where the guest will talk about whichever holiday is coming up and awkwardly go into one of the aspects of it, such as Easter eggs or Halloween candy. In this instance, it’s Steve Buscemi unloading a box of Christmas ornaments and commenting on each one. All the while, Kristen Wiig plays Sheila, his girlfriend who appears to be more than a little off and doesn’t quite grasp tree decorating.

Buscemi’s descriptions range from delightful non-humor to outlandish and disturbing. He might make an intentionally lame joke about one ornament before holding up another and matter-of-factly letting you know that, “I put this one up my butt.”

And somehow he’s still the straight man in this bit.

You’re a Rat Bastard Charlie Brown (2012)

This sketch is centered on Bill Hader playing Al Pacino, playing Charlie Brown. The rest of the cast turns out bang-up impressions as well: Jason Sudeikis playing Philip Seymour Hoffman playing Pigpen, Kate McKinnon as Edie Falco playing Lucy (as Charlie Brown’s drug peddling therapist, causing a holiday-blues Charlie to say, “Oh yeah…I want something to take me sky high!”), Martin Short playing Larry David playing Linus, Taran Killam doing Michael Keaton as Schroeder, and Cecily Strong as Fran Drescher as Charlie Brown’s mother, all performed in front of a baffled childhood audience.

For anyone who grew up watching Charlie Brown and Co., watching Bill Hader/Al Pacino/Charlie Brown unleash the expletive-laden “You’re gonna hold that f***ing football?!” towards Kate McKinnion/Edie Falco/Lucy, and saying, “Ow, you bitch!” after she pulls it away is absolutely to die for.

Jebidiah Atkinson on Holiday Movies (2013)

For a time, Taran Killam played Jebidiah Atkinson, a Weekend Update character based on how an old newspaper editorial was discovered that panned Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. Atkinson, somehow still alive, would appear and read review snippets about other big speeches he hated.

One of his return appearances had him discuss holiday specials and movies. Every single one of them he hates. Every single one of them gets roasted. His vicious energy is so over-the-top that the good jokes land and the bad jokes still get a laugh from the misplaced confidence. Over these several minutes, he screams about how much of a depressing bore A Charlie Brown Christmas is, how the Grinch stole a half hour of his life, and how every time they play It’s a Wonderful Life, an angel blows its brains out.

This one is admittedly a bit dated with its biggest joke, where his distaste for Snoopy is so great that he wishes Family Guy killed him off instead of Brian. The horror from the audience still makes it worth it.

St. Joseph’s Christmas Mass Spectacular (2014)

Ah, Christmas Mass. The drum solo for every childhood during Christmas time. It’s uncomfortable and especially boring. Ergo, liven it up by framing it as a big, in-your-face event via what amounts to a monster truck rally commercial!

It’s a brilliant use of contrast. Take an event that is so mundane with so many familiar and shared experiences and treat it like it’s some extreme thing. The familiarity of the pastor making corny jokes that get the most minor of laughs is treated like a once-in-a-lifetime event. It shines a light on the weird tics of the prominent people you see at church and feels amazingly universal.

The SNL cast is fantastic here, but the MVP is Cecily Strong as the middle-age woman who is way into doing a reading in the loudest, most overly articulate speaking voice possible.

Sump’N Claus (2014)

Getting gifts from Santa Claus is great and all, but when you grow up, you realize how hard it truly is to be nice all year round. Luckily, there’s an alternative. Introduced via an extremely catchy song, we meet Sump’n Claus (Keenan Thompson), a pimp-like offshoot of Santa who not only used to work for St. Nick, but also appears to have some dirt on him.

Sump’n Claus sings several verses about people who have had breakdowns and would be thrown onto the naughty list. Sump’n Claus doesn’t care about that. You be you. Every December, he’ll still be there to hand you an envelope full of twenties and fifties. He’s the holiday mascot for adults, basically.

One of the highlights is how he mentions that Santa is not your friend as friends don’t watch you while you’re sleeping.

The Christmas Candle (2016)

Christmas has been saved by many different things: ghosts who see through time, an angel trying to earn his wings, a reindeer’s glowing nose, New Yorkers singing “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” and so on. Then again, sometimes you need a savior for something with lower stakes.

In the form of a mid-1990s all ladies group that gives me kind of a Celine Dion vibe, we’re given a wonderful song that starts with the tale of a woman who had to get a coworker a gift for Secret Santa. She found an old peach candle in her closet and just gave her that. The second verse is a similar situation where not only is a peach candle given as a throwaway gift to an acquaintance, but it’s THE SAME candle. Yes, somehow this one peach candle is re-gifted across the globe through latter December by women and gay men who couldn’t be bothered to put thought into their presents.

Truly a miracle.

First Impression (2018)

Beck Bennett plays a guy about to finally meet his girlfriend’s (Melissa Villaseñor) parents and he’s nervous as hell. She assures him that he’ll be fine, but he really wants to impress them. Sure enough, he tries to impress them in the weirdest way by hiding somewhere in the house and speaking in a high-pitched voice in order to dare them to find him. Her parents (Jason Momoa and Heidi Gardner) are notably confused, as is she.

It’s already a strange and silly bit, but Jason Momoa shifts it into gear by suddenly being COMPLETELY into it. Removing his jacket with purpose, Momoa excitedly starts searching the house for this guy. The fact that Momoa is playing an overweight 60-year-old man is enough of a novelty, but he brings this oddball zest to the role as he starts to literally tear the home to pieces in order to get a look at his daughter’s elusive boyfriend.

The boyfriend’s plans here are both overly complicated and half-baked, culminating in an ending that’s as happy as it’s inexplicable and off-putting.

North Pole News Report (2019)

When Eddie Murphy returned to SNL, there was much fanfare. A completely solid episode, it admittedly spent too much of its runtime revisiting his old recurring classics like Mr. Robinson, Gumby, and Velvet Jones. The final sketch of the night goes full blast with his manic energy as he plays an elf eyewitness on the elf news, screaming bloody murder about a horrible tragedy. Mikey Day is reporter Donny Chestnut, looking at the destruction of a toy factory. As he tries to make heads or tails of what’s going on, Murphy bursts onto the scene, screaming about a polar bear attacking the elves and eating them like Skittles. And just screaming in general.

The best line comes from the elf (who keeps declaring, “IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT MY NAME IS!”) bringing over one of the survivors, and noting that, “This white, teenage elf girl ran out here, straight up to me – a black elf in sweatpants – and asked me to keep her safe. That’s how bad it is!” Despite this elf being right about the situation, Donny Chestnut keeps trying to sideline him for being increasingly erratic about Santa’s potential role in the slaughter and what it means for Christmas. Even as he trips over some of his lines, Eddie Murphy is so damn precious here.

AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!

December to Remember Car Commercial (2020)

It might be in bad form to include a sketch from this very year, but man, this joke is not only long overdue, but the acting is top notch. Heidi Gardner’s barely repressed rage is something special.

You’ve seen the commercial a million times. It’s Christmas morning and someone reveals a brand new car to a loved one. As part of Lexus’ December to Remember, Beck Bennett reveals a brand new Lexus with a giant bow to his wife (Gardner) and their son (Timothée Chalamet). What initially appears as shock turns out to be fury and confusion over what is a selfish and short-sighted decision. Buying a car is a huge deal and isn’t something you don’t tell your significant other. More than that, Bennett’s character hasn’t been employed for about a year and a half and has no way of affording such a thing. The thread is pulled away, unraveling both how much of an idiot he is and how doomed their family life happens to be.

Then neighbor Mikey Day shows up and it hits another level. Beck Bennett is the expert at playing guys with misplaced confidence who haven’t come close to thinking things through.

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