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bluerapunzel103 · 4 months

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Not an Easy Job

My contribution to @raggedyannrevivaleffort's 2023 gift exchange! @stpaulofsuburbia, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Synopsis: General D. rides at night. Now, he rides alone. This gives him ample opportunity to ruminate on his position as General Darkness, Decay, Dissolution, Done For, Death, Doom.

Fandom: Raggedy Ann/Rag Dolly Character: General D., Bat Mention, Wolf Mention, Marcella Mention, Raggedy Ann Mention Dynamics: Past General D. and Bat and Wolf, Marcella and Raggedy Ann Rating: General/K+ Content Warnings: MASSIVE spoilers to Rag Dolly, heavy themes of death, grief, repression as present in the show Beta read?: Yes

Being Darkness is a dull job. General D. must operate mostly in the nighttime, only working in daylight in times of emergency and crisis. To be Darkness is, literally speaking, just that. He is one with the darkness, in most cases, to bring new souls into his army. Working with just the din of midnight's stillness leaves him ample time to meditate--no, ruminate--on his position in his travels. Granted, often, his right-hands killed that quiet, whenever he had right-hands, but even when he has none, or just finds peace, these thoughts occupy him instead. He supposes it comes with his rank, and he shouldn't be one to complain.

Being Decay is a gruelling job. So many people and animals die every single day. If one were to think about it, it's no wonder he needs an army. The volume of his workload is simply impossible to ever dream of fulfilling entirely on his own. Come to think of it, the General should probably think of recruiting some right-hands. He was beginning to regret letting Bat and Wolf fall victim to their own hubris. They were both very useful for covering more ground on busy nights. Then again, they were prone to taking entirely too long at their jobs. And pestering him. And, of course, thinking independently. Well, just because the General's army is large, it doesn't mean that there aren't no-good, clumsy, wimpy, flat-out useless excuses for soldiers within his legions.

Being Dissolution is a thankless job. No one ever thinks about the work it takes for him to consider when a soul is ready for recruitment. Yes, there have been countless miscalculations. In fact, not long ago, he had thought he found a good recruit to take Wolf's place, but the dog survived his ills and was back on his paws in no time. And, of course, Marcella still stings, considering that was when Wolf's soul died to begin with. But usually, he knows when it's time. Like now. He has finished recruiting a bullfrog who has met the end of its life. It was ready. It had been for a while. Each time, he takes whichever appendage is the most suited for a handshake, congratulates the new soul on their use of their life, and then presents them with their new title as Soldier of General D.'s Army. Then, he points them in the direction of the nearest boot camp for the dead to have the liveliness trained out of them. If they're lucky, they may rise to the top legion, just below right-hands to the General. Even just his workload adds up. He needs to hire right-hands.

Being Done For is an annoying job. Lately, it's been a bit quieter since Bat and Wolf have been gone, and it's allowed for some welcome peace and quiet on good days, to allow the General to meditate-ruminate. There are still times, though, that he finds himself pestered by the newest soldiers. Their relentless cries over regrets in their lives, seemingly endless questions as to whether their families and friends would be okay without them, what their title meant, and whether this surely would be forever. Even this bullfrog seems so unsure of themself in their first few minutes in this realm. The General has seen this countless times in varying orders, but it gets no easier to tolerate it every time, especially after he has just told them what they were now, for how long, and where the nearest boot camp was. He briskly takes Bullfrog's hand and tugs them along. Once he thankfully finds a veteran recruit, a human whose car he found on the road one rainy night, he shoves the clueless amphibian onto her to take to camp. Now, he could focus more on honing down the gentleman he was after next.

Being Doom is a lonely job. It is true. Despite the countless thousands of legions that he has accrued over the course of his career, despite, yes, the company of Bat and Wolf, the General has always been lonely, in a sense. It is something he does to himself. Being a harbinger of heartbreak, after all, does not necessarily grant one social capital in a world that can never seem to agree whether death is a good thing or a bad thing. He is quite positive most of his soldiers don't have a high opinion of him. Even more, though, he is trying not to get too attached to his recruits anymore. The last time he sought companionship with one, he not only lost his chance at bringing her aboard when he wanted to, but in his rage, he ended up losing his own right-hands. It truly is a shame, whenever he thinks about it. That's why he tries not to. Companionship only distracts him from his work.

Being Death is a cruel job. There are times where he does get a sick kick out of it, one should not get him wrong. The General usually is the first to admit that he has historically had quite liberal standards as for whether a soul "deserves" to be taken. Even when he killed Bat and Wolf, he is willing to admit, he felt a rush that he had not felt in so long. But even then, he has standards, and death is indiscriminate by design. Death is neutral, not on anyone's side. As such, especially since Raggedy Ann saved Marcella's life, he has begun to somewhat regret some of his recruits. He begins to feel sympathy for their loved ones. Each tear of confusion from a child who has seen her goldfish flip upside down in her tank. Each pained caress of a trunk from a pack of elephants at their matriarch's funeral. Each cry of anguish from a man freshly grieving his wife after a fast-acting illness. Again, he tries so much not to let himself get distracted by his feelings and do his job without any feelings of, "what if?" He is beginning to turn into a sorry excuse for a General, if he were to say so.

Being General D is not an easy job. It never has been, and it never will be. It is only getting harder. That is the one thing certain to him tonight as he finally finds his next recruit. An old man surrounded by his loved ones. There is no doubt to the General that it's his time. He cleanses the tattered, shattered, freshly-aching remnants of his heart, then he makes his entrance.

#Raggedy Ann #Raggedy Ann and Andy #Rag Dolly #General D.#General D Rag Dolly #Wolf #Wolf Rag Dolly #Bat #Bat Rag Dolly #Marcella #Marcella Raggedy Ann #death #death mention #animal death #dog death mention #insect death mention #child death mention #major character death mention

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highflyartist · 4 months

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I did it... I FINISHED THE MAJOR ARCANA!!! LETSAGOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

The Devil - Thomas Drosselmeier (Saragona's Dad) [ft Lucanus (Pre-Teen Edition)]

The Emperor - Richard Jacobs (Erin's husband and Taylor's dad)

Death - Fritz Stahlbaum

The Tower - Stahlbaum Household

The World - Mistress Marcella/Mother Ginger/The Silver Fairy

The Hierophant - Louise Stahlbaum

The Chariot - William Drosselmeier (The Second-oldest triplet between Henry and Thomas)

Judgement - Duchess Elizabeth Carter

Nutcracker month art prompt created by @artsynoova / @noovamulticolors

#nutcracker #the nutcracker #the nutcracker and the silver bell #richard jacobs #thomas drosselmeier #elizabeth carter #louise stahlbaum #fritz stahlbaum #marcella #mother ginger #silver fairy #william drosselmeier #drosselmeier triplets #tarot cards #nutcracker month 2023 #nutcracker season 2023 #nutcracker month #nutcracker season #major arcana

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wardrobeoftime · 5 months

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Domina + Costumes

Marcella's grey & silver dress in Season 01, Episode 04.

// requested by @idreamhistory & @butterfliesjewels2134

#Domina Sky #Domina (2021)#Marcella #Claudia Marcella Major #costumes #costume drama #costumesource #period drama #perioddramaedit #100s BC #grey #silver #Rome #Italy #Roman Empire #Europe #requests

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behindfairytales · 1 month

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Alaïs Lawson in Domina (s2) as Marcella

#alais lawson avatars #dominaedit #alaislawsonedit #period fc #marcella #alais lawson #domina sky #domina mgm+#claudia marcella major #rp avatars #avatars 400*640 #*avatars #*mine

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cherryflavoredbongwater · 2 months

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°•°•° rhysand's son x reader

°•°•° orpheus helps his mate with their heat sm//ut

When Violet Vanserra winnowed to his front door, her cheeks flushed as red as her hair, Orpheus knew something was wrong. With what, he didn't know and he didn't exactly care. Not when he could feel the start of burning in his stomach, the agitation that made him want to throttle everyone. His rut would start within the upcoming days. He tried to find a pretty female. Had hoped that one would smell right. None had. Which, regretfully, meant he'd be spending the entire week locked away in the cool depths of Hewn City while he fisted his knot ruined cock in his hand.

Violet and Orpheus had never gotten along. She was too stubborn and would take the slightest wrong choice of words as an insult. Once that happened, nothing could be done to change her opinion of you. That distrust in her eyes, red bangs freshly trimmed to keep from falling in them, as she hesitated to tell him what she wanted at this hour had nearly sent him slamming the door in her face.

"Leave," He sneered before adding, "Do they know you've returned?"

Violet left the second she reached age of majority and never looked back. Their family had never gotten over it entirely. Had she not been mated to the now King of Vallahan, she would be right here in Velaris. There was no gentle pushing from Elain, no forceful pushing from Morrigan, who'd remembered the kind of male that Evander had been whilst she was an emissary.

She doesn't answer that. They both know what he really wants to ask. They both know that he won't. He wouldn't let Violet know he thought about his mate — and Violet had no intention of telling him anything about you.

"Y/n needs you," She speaks slowly, hoping for him to catch on. It does nothing but send heat curling in his throat. He swallows the irritation. The bond had been silent. Though, that could've been distance. It could've been lots of things. He can't help the stilling, how he curls his fingers, "What happened to her?"

Violet shifted on her feet, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that no one could hear. "I think she started her heat,"

Now, Orpheus truly laughed. Cursed or blessed by the Cauldron, Orpheus still wasn't sure, you were human. Humans didn't have heats. Humans didn't feel the mating bond like fae had, either. If the news of your heat was true, it would open all sorts of questions. He wondered what it would mean for the future if more bonds had come about, if human women could experience heats.

There was nothing better than knotting a female. He'd been compatible, once, and spent it with two fae — Arden and Marcella. The fact alone was he was wallowing in his own misery. They were on the other side of the city, waiting for his anger to break. It would, one day. It just wasn't today. It wasn't today. It wouldn't be this year, either.

Not even this decade.

"She's human,"

"But you aren't. Before I came here, I stopped by Dawn. There's a Seraphim there that mated with a human during the war. He—He said that the magic would trigger it, that it would be torturous for the woman to go through. The magic can't sort it out the right way. The only way to get it to stop is by her mate helping her through it,"

Bad news for him. He tried to ignore you just as much as you ignored him. Meddling as always, his father routinely sent him to Vallahan. One of the only humans, Violet nearly kept you under lock and key. It was an arrangement neither of you seemed to mind. "The mating bond is a wonderful thing, Orpheus. She's human, why waste time? You're too foolish to see it now." Rhysand shrugged after Orpheus had snapped at him.

He figured that Rhysand was currently looking for a way to make you immortal, to fix some long forgotten mistake he had made. Maybe, he was attempting to help him find some peace. While each of the Inner Circle that had been alive during the War with Hybern had recovered, Orpheus hadn't. Things had been good between them for a while. Until the day peace was declared and Orpheus disappeared into the vicious Hewn City to establish residency and rule, taking the mountain from Kier.

That, too, was something Rhysand hadn't fought.

Orpheus spent the first nineteen years of his life under that mountain. He had been denied a loving childhood, the ability to fly if he ever attempted to form some wings, and a decent mother and father. Rhysand would be damned if he failed him again.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, did not help matters in the slightest. Not as Orpheus had been allowed to run wild. Hosting orgies after orgies, turning the throne room of Hewn City practically into a night club.

If he were human, and females could easily reproduce, he was sure that he might have a few bastards down here. Alas, he made sure they drank the tonic.

He could feel the air shift, his scent change. The full force of his rut would hit him. If only out of being difficult, he nearly said no. It would be torturous for him, too, no doubt, but he could handle it.

It was the thought of you, nearly insane from lack of touch, as your body burned and cramped so fierce that you weren't sure you'd survive it.

And then he thought of your body beneath him, fucking you as hard as he could. He'd make you keep your eyes on his, would chart down your every reaction. "Take me to her," he says. One and done. He would help you through this, would know what it's like for him to have you, and then he was going to let you go. He would go hide out in Day for a couple decades until you were dead and he would be free.

That thought alone left his heart beating angrily in his chest.

Maybe he would go to Day.

Maybe he'd take you with him. The beaches there were beautiful. So were the homes along the coastline. Perfect for a fam—

He wouldn't let himself finish that thought.

This was his rut speaking.

But, at the same time, no thought had ever been so clear, had seemed so right.

He hadn't ever put much thought into what your bedroom looked like. He tried not to think of you most days. Which, just led to it being all he thought about. Green decorated the room, on blankets and painted walls. Against his will, he felt himself soften at the way your fingers curled into the sheets, teeth digging into a pillow. Your body trembled and shook.

"Y/n," He said simply. You turned to look at him, eyes wide and shining with tears. There was a bit of fear there, too. Not at him — the only relief towards him had been hope, relief, and joy. His heart warmed in his chest — but at the uncertainty of it all. With Marcella, and other fae, the heat was enjoyable. At least after it got started. She hadn't had full clarity, hadn't even really remembered any of it. Neither had he. Just the flashes of Arden fucking her ass while he drove into her pussy until she was a mess. Then, he thought of you, sitting on Arden's face while he licked at you, your fingers tugging on his hair. As wicked as Arden could be to both Orpheus and Marcella, he was likely to have you edged for hours, his tongue, cock, and fingers keeping you on the brink for hours.

The more primal part of him had wanted you to himself.

"It hurts," You murmured, voice muffled by a pillow. Shyly, face burning a bright red, you said, "Vi said you could help me," Orpheus guessed that was as close as he would get to you saying the words.

He didn't think you would be like the others, on their knees with their mouths open. There was a level of shame and shyness on your face as you rolled onto your back, throwing the blankets off your body. The material was thin and sheer, likely put on by you to wade off some of the unnatural heat coming off your skin.

His voice doesn't sound like his own, "I can,"

There's only a nod from you, your body relaxing as he shed himself of his clothes until he was standing bare. He usually tried to drag this part out, would have them ride his clothed thigh until they came. Your thighs parted immediately, letting him rest between then. Your hands ran over his chest, through his hair, pulled you closer to him as you kissed whatever you could reach. Light kisses ghosted his ribs, chest, shoulders, arms, and neck. Orpheus shuttered. He nearly came on the outside of your pussy.

His cock was red and hard, his instincts riding him harder than ever before. His hands curl around your hips, jerking you towards him. No panties, no bra. He pulled the dress over your head, caging your body in his as he kissed you gently. He'd thought about this moment more times than he could count. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

Nothing compared to it.

His fingers found your pussy, knuckles and fingers sliding between your lips. You bucked into him, would've ground against him if his body weight wasn't keeping you pinned to the bed. What burned and ached before was gone, settled by peace down to your bones. You let him straddle you, eyes closed and a soft smile on your lips. "I didn't think you'd come," Your eyes flickered open, finding him. His hands kneaded the flesh of your stomach, right above your womb. His hands are warm and he remains silent, considering what to say. He means for it to be a snide remark, meant to tell you that this would be the last and only time this happened. Later, after he made it home and your touch is long burned into his memory, he denies ever saying it, "I'll always come for you,"

Orpheus was not the kind of male to make those promises. He was not the kind of male that kept defenseless humans safe. Sounding like his father, he thinks, That's not a human. That is your mate.

To fae, the mating bond was capable of turning humans into things they worshipped. Day by day, the bond convoluted his thoughts, had made him more sympathetic to your delicate human nature.

Orpheus gasped when you sunk your teeth into his shoulder. His spell had been broken, turned back to the present with a need to fuck you go strong he thought he might just curl over and die.

He pulled his fingers out of your pussy, lining up his cock. Prepared well, there was no resistance. Not as you tightened and clamped around him. Not as he bred you, as he knotted you. He made promises against your flesh, you made your own as he ripped orgasm after orgasm out of you. He healed and broke you, loved you and ruined you. Time ceased to move. For six days, it had gone on, Orpheus fucking his come into you for hours before bringing you food and drink. It had been fun and wonderful and then it was over.

Returning home on the seventh morning, he was met by his father. He opened his mouth several times, not quite finding the words. Never had he seen his father like that. Only, when it came to you. Orpheus interrupts him, "Could Azriel get her out?"

His eyebrow lifts. "You want to steal Y/n from Vallahan?" For Violet, Evander would go to war. Orpheus wasn't sure of what kind of friendship stood between you and the king but as her best, and closest friend, Evander wouldn't just let him take you. Part of the reason you were still thousands of miles away from him. Had it been the Night Court's choice, you would've ended up there the night the bond clicked. Part of the reason Violet wasn't around. Unless a valued member of the Inner Circle, your thoughts and feelings weren't always taken into account.

Scared of the world since the war, you were more than content to spend the rest of your life in Evander and Violet's private wing of the castle.

"Yes. She's my mate. Why shouldn't she live with me?"

Selfishness was a trait clearly inherited. Something akin to pride shone in Rhysand's eyes. "I'll give the order in the morning,"

#acotar x reader #acotar oc x reader #mine #rhysand's son #acotar next gen #acotar next gen x reader

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joannanora · 1 year

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Iona Wolff / Aldara Zarraoa/WireImage

EXCLUSIVE: Starz and Channel 4 have greenlit thriller The Couple Next Door starring Poldark‘s Eleanor Tomlinson and Outlander’s Sam Heughan.

Filming has commenced in Leeds and Belgium on the six-part thriller from Professor T producer Eagle Eye Drama, which follows Tomlinson’s Evie and Pete (Harry Potter star Alfred Enoch), who move into an upscale neighborhood and find themselves in a world of curtain twitching and status anxiety. They find friendship in the shape of the couple next door, alpha traffic cop Danny (Heughan) and his wife, glamorous yoga instructor Becka (Jessica De Gouw), but after Danny and Evie share a passionate night together there is trouble ahead.

The U.S. streamer and UK network, who have never co-produced together, described The Couple Next Door as a “psychological drama, exploring the stultifying claustrophobia of suburbia and the fallout of chasing your darkest desires.”

Tomlinson is best known for playing Demelza Poldark opposite Aidan Turner across five seasons of hit BBC drama Poldark. Other credits include Stephen Merchant comedy-drama The Outlaws and Netflix’s upcoming adaptation of David Nicholls’ One Day.

Scottish actor Heughan is gearing up for a seventh season of Starz hit Outlander, in which he plays Jamie Fraser, while he is also starring in Priyanka Chopra Jonas rom-com Love Again with Celine Dion – set for May release. He generated headlines recently when his memoir revealed how a brutal rape scene in Outlander Season 1 had impacted him negatively.

Marcella writer David Allison is penning The Couple Next Door, Professor T‘s Dries Vos is directing and EPs are Jo McGrath, Walter Iuzzolino and Alison Kee.

The thriller is based on Dutch series New Neighbours and feeds into Eagle Eye’s strategy of turning European hits into shows for the major English language markets, following Channel 4’s Suspect, which is based on a Belgian series, and ITV’s Professor T, which is based on a show from Denmark.

#sam heughan #eleanor tomlinson

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givemearmstopraywith · 4 months

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I saw that you RBed eesirach's masterpost of beginner theology recommendations! Are there any major resources that you would add to that list?

eesirachs is wonderful! their area of study is very different from mine; additionally my undergraduate study was not in theology, so i have no real framework for what is a foundational theology text.

my area of speciality is christian mysticism and feminist liberation theology. for that i recommend marcella althaus-reid, mary daly (some of her rhetoric is a bit outdated now, but she remains one of the formative feminist theologians), rosemary radford ruether, simone weil, amy hollywood, caroline walker bynum, jeremy carrette, robert goss, jeffrey kripal, dorothee soelle. i'll try and make a real masterlist soon.

#replies

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pagesoflauren · 2 years

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House of Stone - Your Ivy Grows

feat. professor!Andy Barber x single mom!student!reader

Summary: House of Stone has a revolving door of characters: Andy, the reader, Ivy, Ari, bunny, Marcella, and Troy.

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST/SADNESS (I cried while writing this); mentions of death and grief; supernatural moments

A/N: A lot of people were saying they were sad the Wood & Stone Series is ending, but it's not ending yet if I have anything to say about it 😁

Anything in italics is what Troy is thinking/saying.

As always, thanks @eightcevanscentral

House of Stone Masterlist

Main Masterlist

He hears you whimpering under the sheets, accompanied by the rustle of fabric as you toss and turn. Pained, he knows how hard it’s been for you to sleep lately, especially after a long drive back from your friend’s wedding.

Three hours in the car and you were exhausted, he was sure.

Reaching out for your shoulder, he can feel his palm pressing against your skin, but the warmth never reaches his hand.

He’s gotten used to the cold by now.

With a gentle shove, he rouses you, hearing you shout his name.

“Troy!”

I’m here.

Your chest heaves, burdened breaths coming and going as you blindly reach for the side table lamp.

Faint yellow light pours into the room and he can see your face now, swollen and stained with tears.

It’s okay, he tells you, cupping your jaw and trying to swipe away the tears.

He fails and feels his chest sink when you wipe your tears yourself.

“Fuck,” you sigh, pressing your hands into your face.

What’s wrong, birdie?

“I like him.”

I know. Anyone would know just by looking at the two of you. Do you know he likes you, too?

“God, why?”

What do you mean?

You sob some more, he scoots closer.

Talk to me, birdie.

“I promised…I promised I would never look at anyone.”

People seldom keep promises like that.

“And Ivy…she deserves to know you as her father, not some other man.”

You sniffle and use the sheet to wipe the fresh wave of tears.

“I’m betraying you.”

No, you’re not. You never could; he’s who was meant for you.

“It was supposed to be you and me.”

I know, but life has more planned for you.

You curl up into yourself, hiding your face against your knees. He can feel it, the shame permeating from your body as you reprimand yourself. You’re not saying it, but he knows you in death as well as he knew you in life.

My sweet little bird, he says, hand on your head as he presses his face close to yours. You’re not doing anything wrong. He makes you happy and Ivy loves him too. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

You look forward, straight into his face with your chin propped on your knees. Of course, you don’t see him.

There’s my girl, he leans forward and kisses your forehead.

Your legs straighten suddenly and your hand flies to where he kissed you, fingertips grazing over your skin.

You don’t have to be sorry for anything, he tells you.

A sharp cry sounds down the hall and both your heads turn towards it.

Ivy.

You get up and he follows you, right in your shadow as you turn on the light and pick up Ivy from her bed.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you whisper to her. “You have a bad dream, too?”

She wails and you shush her, rocking and bouncing her. He stands behind you, brushing his thumb over her forehead.

Rough night for both my girls, he mumbles to himself.

She looks just like you, growing more and more each day. It’s strange; he’s been here this whole time, though it’s like being in a museum: looking, no touching. He reaches for her, she crawls to him, she babbles at him the same way subjects of paintings look at their viewers, almost inviting them into a conversation. But like an observer who will never know what the Mona Lisa has to say, Troy will never truly know the tenderness of his daughter’s touch and the sweetness of her kisses.

Her eyes drop closed and you sigh. “Thank God,” you mutter.

I’m not God, but I’ll take it, he quips.

You place her back on the mattress and leave slowly, going down the hall back to your room. He wants to follow you, and he will. But for now, he sits next to his daughter, reaching for her and rubbing her forehead.

Take it easy on your momma, he sighs. She’s going through a lot.

- - - - -

He gets up from where he was sitting on the front steps when he sees Andy’s car pull into the parking space in front of the apartment. He had been waiting for you all to return from the courthouse.

Appalled by his parents, he followed closely; shorting out electricity in his parents’ house to show them his dismay, whispering in his lawyer’s ear when she nearly forgot to call Andy back about his will, observing Andy and his son as they worked on the case together.

Promising you that everything would be okay.

Andy carries Ivy and you step out on wobbly legs and Troy laughs to himself.

After one drink? C’mon birdie, you’re better than that.

Standing on the pathway to the house, he sees an opportunity. He knows how you and Andy feel about each other. He knows what holds the two of you back, but there’s no better time than the present.

He walks over and presses his hand into your shoulder, swaying you towards Andy. You go the other direction, bracing yourself against the side of the house.

He sighs. You’re still so stubborn.

He loves you anyway.

Andy checks on you and you reply bashfully before reaching for Ivy. After a short discussion, the two of you make your way into the apartment, but Troy doesn’t follow.

Some things are meant to be private.

- - - - -

“Say ‘Hi daddy.”

“Hi, dada.”

Hi, baby girl.

“Hi, bubby.”

Hey, birdie. I’ve been waiting for the two of you.

“I’m sorry we haven’t visited in a long time, I know we missed Ivy’s birthday. Things have been so crazy, especially with finals and finishing up the semester at the end of May. But I did it, I graduated from law school.”

His heart soars. I’m so proud of you.

“I started looking for jobs…it’s scary to apply.”

I know, but you gotta do it, birdie. You’re so brilliant, you could have any job you want.

“But I know you’d be telling me to go for it, so I’ve been sending out applications left and right.”

He smiles. Good.

“Ivy’s doing good, aren’t you, baby?”

My sweet girl, he sighs as she giggles. You’re so big now.

“She’s beginning to climb up and down the couch and the jungle gym at daycare. I’m gonna sign her up for gymnastics like we talked about.”

U.S. Olympic gymnast, Ivy Paige Abernathy. I can see it now.

“And I promise for her belated birthday gift, I’ll get her a pair of sneakers like you wanted.”

Get a pair for yourself too, birdie. It won’t work unless she’s matching with her momma.

He watches you sigh and sniffle, his heart squeezing.

“We’re doing okay��more than okay. And we’re not alone.”

I know, he says as you call for Andy to come closer.

“This is Andy, he was my professor. He’s a lawyer…he saved our little family.”

I’m so grateful for it.

You describe Andy to him and he listens as if he hadn’t been watching this whole time.

“He makes me happy. He takes care of Ivy, I–”

I know, he nods. I know you love him.

“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss you, Troy. But I just want you to know we’re okay. I hope you’re okay wherever you are.”

I’m okay, he promises.

“I love you, bubby.”

I love you, too, birdie.

He thanks you for the daffodil and says goodbye before you carry Ivy away.

Andy stays, looking at the gravestone.

Hi Andy, he greets him. You look concerned.

“I’m not trying to replace you, I hope you know that.”

I do.

“But I…I love Y/N and Ivy.”

How could you not? Troy laughs. They love you, too.

“I promise I’ll take care of them…of your girls. I’ll keep them safe and warm.”

I know you will.

“And I’ll never let Ivy forget you.”

He closes his eyes. Thank you.

“Rest easy, Troy.”

I am; I couldn’t have asked for a better man to take care of my girls.

- - - - -

Stepping through the grass, he finds an empty seat in the front row at the very end.

He sits down and crosses his legs. To his right, a little head whips toward him. He looks and finds his daughter staring right at him.

She waves, “Hi, dada.”

Hey, baby girl.

She giggles and says again, “Hi, dada.”

Shh, you gotta be quiet, he presses a finger to his lips. It’s a big day for your momma and Andy.

Ivy listens, looking forward at the bride and groom.

You look beautiful, dressed in white complete with a jeweled barrette in your hair. Andy glows with happiness that Troy only knows because he felt it when he was with you.

“Andrew, repeat after me.”

Andy looks at you with sincerity as he recites his vows; promising to love you no matter what lies ahead.

Unable to help himself, Troy says them, too.

I, Troy Benjamin Abernathy…take you, Y/N Y/L/N, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish–

“...’til death do us part.”

As Andy slides the ring onto your finger, Troy gets up and walks to his daughter, kneeling down.

She looks at him with pure joy and giggles when he kisses her cheeks before whispering, I’ll see you later, baby girl.

Turning towards you, he listens to you recite your vows to Andy.

I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you that night, he whispers as he steps closer until he’s standing next to you. I’m sorry I left when I did. But look at you now, in love and happy. I couldn’t ask for anything better.

He kisses your cheek and your words falter for a moment. You brush your fingers across your face and look at him–right through him.

I love you, birdie. Go, live your life.

He steps back and you apologize for your momentary lapse and begin reciting your vows again.

Troy walks around the sets of chairs, into the wooded area, and back into the light.

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