#(or else she’ll lose both of her sons)

[enjoythesilentworld]

did you hear that? that was the sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces.

via NN

[writers-hes]

The Blind Man

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn’t realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps, depictions of mental illness, abusive marriage)

They finally meet.

PART 1 / PART 2

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

There was nothing discreet with how you dressed. You were in all black, a black veil shielding you from the onlookers. Simon sent some money to Johnny’s wife, Beth, for a proper wake. His house was filled with white flowers and proper food. It’s the least he could do, that’s what he said. You were sitting beside the widow, trying to console her.

“Johnny used to talk about you alot,” she weeped. “‘That’s my girl! That’s my daughter and she’ll go places!’ That’s what he always said. He told me how you grew up in the brothel and how you were always willing to listen to his lessons in arithmetic.” Her eyes were red from crying and all you could do was console her. “Thank you for taking care of him…for taking care of us,”

“It’s nothing, Beth,” you assured her. “He let me into his bunker when my mum died,” you recalled. “He protected me from…from…as much as he could, you know?”

God. Just how many people could you lose in this fucking lifetime? First, your father but you’ve never really weeped for him. You never knew him. Second, your mum. She took care of you with how little she had. Third, Tommy. You never heard back if he was alive or not. Your protector. Fourth, Big Johnny. He’s always been the male figure that you considered as your father. Who’s next?

“I’m grateful for him,” you managed to choke out. You asked your security guards to go somewhere else, maybe a few feet or metres from the house. You wanted privacy. “I’m just so regretful to never have seen him and now he’s gone…”

Johnny died because of a rumble with some of the newer gangs in Small Heath. Some young lads mugged him on the way home and killed him. They threw his body by the docks where they thought no one would ever see him.

Your body suddenly fills with rage. Was this the work of the Blinders? Fuck. Why would they fucking do that? Beth excuses herself from you and you nodded. Picking on the rings on your fingers, you didn’t notice who sat beside you. 

“Seems like we only see each other at weddings and funerals,” You gasped, looking at the source of the familiar voice. How could you ever forget? She told you what you needed to do to survive. 

“Polly,” you gasped, extending your shaky hands towards her. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “Who would’ve thought, huh?” she asked. She lets you clutch her hand for support. “Where’s Simon?”

“He has business in Camden Town,” you replied. “He allowed me to go but there’s security around us right now. We can’t really talk, Poll—he’s going to, he’s going to—“

“I’ve handled it,” she said. “You can talk to me as freely as you would like, okay?” You nodded. 

“I’m sorry for…for leaving,” you whispered. Your voice wavers and you feel the wetness in your eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Darling…”

“He threatened to kill Tommy, Arthur, and John if I didn’t obey,” you confessed. “During the…the war,” You shut your eyes to hide from Polly. Her heart aches. You’ve always been reluctant to show your emotions but you are visibly hiding now. Cowering from the fear of rejection and of humiliation from Polly Gray. “He said that-that he knew people who could finish the job.”

“Don’t hide,” she coos. Your obedience was not in vain but she’d never tell you that. She didn’t want Tommy to act impulsively and she didn’t want you to lose what you already have. “How are you? You don’t need permission from a man, you know,”

“I know,” you nod. “You always told me but…Simon is all I have now. He trusts me and I don’t want to break that trust that I’ve worked so hard on. You told me to take advantage of everything and I am,”

“What have you been doing?”

“I have trusts, bonds, and investments to my name now. Simon couldn’t take them away from me. All sealed with a document that my lawyers reviewed,” you told her. Once a prostitute, always a prostitute.

“Johnny and I taught you well then,” she nods in approval. “That’s good. We miss you,”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Where’s Ada? I’ve to thank her for the house,”

“If anything, she has you to thank. She’s been going there a lot since you left. She said she feels more at peace there,” Polly replied. “When are you leaving?”

“After the burial,” you replied. “I have to leave and go to uh, Italy with Simon,”

“For what?”

“Some…business thing.” you replied. 

“He’s showing you the world?” she asked, gesturing to your clothes. You knew it. It was too much for a funeral.

“Yeah. It’s too much isn’t it? I can-I can change into something else but, he likes these clothes,” you told her. “But can I—“

“No, you look good,” she says, stopping you from your worries. “You look like who you’re supposed to be,”

You look like who you’re supposed to be. If it was any other person, you’d be offended; but this was Polly. She always told you that you didn’t belong in Small Heath. “You’re too pure to belong here forever.” She’d always say. It’s funny, you felt like you never belonged in Simon’s world no matter how hard he tried to put you in it. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask about Tommy and his brothers. How could you? You were too scared to know the answer. If Polly didn’t mention it, it’s probably for the best.

“I do wish you’d visit us more but I know your circumstances,” she said. “I received the letter from Simon along with a cheque of a few thousand pounds,”

“Did you encash it?” you asked. 

“No,” she replied. Somehow, that gave you comfort. She couldn’t be bought. “I did it because I was so worried about what could happen to you. It didn’t have any details. It just said that he’d appreciate it if we cease all contact. He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

“No,” you shook your head. Not yet. “As unimaginable as it all is, he has never. I truly believe that he loves me, Pol. He tells me every day. He heeds everything that I say or do and has never had a mistress but I feel so terrible because I don’t love him that way,” you confessed, feeling like the weight of the world just lifted itself on your shoulders. “I’m terrible,”

“You’re not,” Polly said. “I told you to take advantage of everything but I never told you to love him, did I?”

-

You went home that day feeling lighter. You could always confide in Polly whenever you needed. You were just so heartbroken to know that that could probably never happen again. Your servants have left now. You told them that you didn’t need them during the night because of how small the house was. They stayed at a lodging for labourers nearby; except for the guards. They came with you wherever you go, even if it was only at a distance. 

You were putting away the heavy gold earrings in the vanity in your room. It was dark, except for the lamp that you opened by the bed. 

“You should really change your locks,” Your head whipped, earrings falling on the ground. 

“Tommy?” you asked, rushing towards him in your most comfortable clothes. It was a long sleeved pyjama shirt that Simon owned. Tommy didn’t like it. “Oh my God. You’re here,” you breathed, shaky hands touching his arm. “You’re here…you’re here,”

“And you’re here,” he says, his voice void of emotion. He looked for the pressed flowers in the frame that usually sat on your vanity. It was gone. “You left,”

“I didn’t want to,” you said, removing your hands from him when you felt how cold he was.

“Did you plan on coming back? At all?” he asked. His rage blinds him. Why was he so cold and cruel? Why couldn’t he tell you how happy he was to see you again? He didn’t know how to handle his emotions. Years of longing…of heartbreak…of wondering if he could ever be good enough came down on him. 

“Tommy?”

“It’s just a funny thing, isn’t it?” he chuckled, lighting up his cigarette. “You leave, make your way into the world, and then expect things to be the same.”

You frowned. 

“It’s a funny thing. You promised to wait for me and you didn’t,” he spat. “All I ever looked at was your photo in those four years and you—“

“I didn’t want to leave, Tommy,” you whispered. 

“But you did!” he exclaims. “You left me! You…you left me and married someone else. You decided that I could never grant my promises and fucked someone else. Like a…like…”

“Like what, Tommy?” you asked, stepping away from him. “Like a whore?” He’s never thought of you like that before.

“I never said that,”

“But you thought it!” You sit on your bed. “You see me like how everyone sees me. Fuck,” you shook, shielding yourself away from him. “How could you ruin this for us?”

“No, I’m—“

“Then, what? What is it, Tommy? You come in here to my house and pick a fight. You can’t blame me for the choices that I made! I had no idea if you were coming back. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for me,” he demanded. “I told you to wait for me. I’ve been building us everything that we ever wanted but you were just so impatient,”

“How could I if you never wrote back?”

You looked up at him through teary eyes. You finally gave him the chance to look at you. You looked older, despite the garb that you were wearing. The sparkle was gone. You looked up at him. He’s different. Detached, cold, and emotionless. The blue eyes that used to convey so much emotion were gone. He wasn’t letting you in like he used to. 

You both changed.

A shimmer on your neck catches his attention. It was his mother’s locket. You catch his eyes casting down on it. 

“I forgot,” you croaked, looking away. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” He wasn’t your Tommy anymore.

“No, you should keep it,”

“It’s okay,” you nod, removing the locket from your person and putting it on the bed. It was the first time you’ve ever removed it and it felt like you were removing a leash. “You own it. You should give it to someone else. Someone that’s…that’s not me,”

“Y/N…love,” he tried but you shook his head. “It always belonged to you.”

“We’re not the same people anymore, Tom. You look at me and-and it’s how everyone else does,” you cried. “Like a whore. I’m selling my body and my future for a life like this. Right? I don’t want to have this anymore,” you said. “We grew apart and we’re older now. We’re not the same people,” You don’t love me anymore.

There was hell and there was a place below hell. It was where he was. How could he be so cruel to make you cry? How could he insinuate that you were all the same? How could you hint that he doesn’t love you anymore?

“I waited for you, Tommy. Waited for you to write back and at first, I felt…sad. Then, angry. You think I’m so disposable. So replaceable, right?” you asked. “I sent you letters every week. You always told me you’d protect me but you couldn’t even send me a letter telling me that you were alright. You couldn’t even protect Johnny!”

Maybe if he told you that it was Polly who intercepted those letters, you wouldn’t be so mad at him. Maybe you wouldn’t think that he’d abandon you so easily. Maybe you’d know that you were the only face that got him out of the tunnels. Maybe you’d know that it was your name that made him feel good. Like your name was some prayer he’s worthy enough to say every time that he felt like he was underground again. But how could he hurt you more than he already did?

“You were the one who replaced me,” Maybe you’d finally know that he loves you and that, if you could have just waited a little bit longer, you’d never have to worry if your hair was out of place.

“There was nothing to replace.”

-

Tommy brews in anger. To Polly, to you, and to himself. He couldn’t tell you that Polly intercepted your letters. He didn’t want to cut your relationship with her too. 

“Fuck!” he roared. The barmaid comes in and asks Tommy if he was okay. He shrugs her off but seems intent on staying.

“Do you want me to sing for you?” she asked. He leans back, uninterested. 

“Sure,”

“Happy or sad?” she asked. 

“Uh, sad,” 

“It’ll break your heart,” she says, smiling softly.

“Already broken,” he muttered. Already broken. 

He sits there, unmoving. To be honest, he didn’t know why he was so mad at you. He was truly, utterly, and irrevocably alone now that you were gone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being alone. He prefered it sometimes. Maybe it’s because he always expected for the two of you to be alone together. Like you always were. 

The fear of being unknown to you scares him. You’ve always known him—his whole heart and his whole soul. You’ve always known him but now, you’re gone. You’ll never know him the way you knew him. You were too different now and it rips through him like nothing else. You’ll never be there for him like you did. He’ll never know you like he did once. He could never pinpoint it but he hates how he was never enough for you. If only he could provide, if he could only protect, if only…

Here he thought he’d finally have a wink of sleep after four years. 

-

You were on the phone with your husband after Tommy stormed out in anger last night. You needed to be comforted, to be told that you were right and that everyone else was wrong. It was one of the few luxuries you allowed yourself when you were with Tommy but you were positive that you’ve lost him now.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “I can always come down there, you know,”

“I know,” you nodded. “I just miss you,” 

“You do?” You could tell that that inflated his ego. “If it’s any consolation, I missed you too,”

“Do you think…do you think you can be here for the funeral?” you asked before you could even stop yourself. Why were you bringing him here when Tommy was around? Were you bringing him here out of spite? To make Tommy what? Jealous? But then again, was it a sin to ask for comfort from your husband? Tommy would never understand. He was quick to tell you what he thought of you yesterday. It was the first time he did it but you couldn’t get it out of your head. If to him, you were a whore, then a whore you’d be. 

It was the only thing you were good at anyway. 

“Of course,” he nodded. “This thing with Solomons is just shit work anyway. I’ll be there the day before. Will that be alright?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. Are you really willing to let him inside the fort you’ve built with Tommy? “I lost my mom’s locket today and I…” 

“You did?” he asked. He knew how important that locket was to you. You begged him to not take it off during your wedding. If only he knew. He bought you jewels but you never wore another necklace. “We can get you another one. Something that’s even more beautiful than the one you had.”

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “I love you,” 

“I love you too.”

And you weren’t sure if you were still lying. 

-

Simon arrives at your house sometime in the morning, before the sun rises. It was his first time seeing your house—being in your house. It was a small, shabby home with flowers. Have you always liked flowers? One of the servants opened the door for him and he entered. Poor you. Did you always live like this? 

He spots you reading a book on the couch when you look up at him.

“How was your trip?” You close the book and sit upright. “I hope it wasn’t horrible,”

“I’m here now,” he sits down, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “You’ve been on my mind since you left. Is there anything I have to know?”

“I…I talked to Polly,” you confessed. The grip that he has on your waist tightens. “But we only talked about Johnny. She said that the police aren’t doing anything to know who killed him.”

“I see,” 

“But I left after that. I’ve never seen her since,” you said truthfully. “I told her that we couldn’t meet again,”

“Thank you for not breaking my trust,” he said, removing his grip on you. “You know it’s for us, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you nodded. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Why were you understanding him more? Are you only agreeing with Simon because you hated Tommy at that moment? What’s the sudden change? 

You were all gathered at Johnny's funeral. Simon was beside you, holding your waist protectively. Beth was a wailing mess by the coffin. They were putting him six feet under. Last night was the last time she’ll ever see Johnny’s physical body again. You were bowing your head down, trying to keep your tears away. Johnny had been the father figure and now, he’s gone too. 

The ceremony ends soon enough with Simon never letting go of your body. The Shelbys have noticed. Simon was basically hounding you so you wouldn’t have to talk to others. 

“I sometimes wonder if she stopped talking to us because she wanted to or if she was forced to,” Arthur said, looking at you and your husband. Ada was looking at Polly. They were the only ones who knew. They both agreed to never tell a soul because of how messy things could be. Tommy would wage a war if it concerned you. “The question is why is she letting him?”

Tommy walks to where you were. He clears his throat to make himself known. He watches your figure become rigid. Simon was looking at him, his hand still on your waist. If he could shoot this prick’s hand for even laying a hand on you—

“I’m Tommy Shelby,” he starts. “I just decided to come by and offer a quick greeting to your wife.”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” Simon replied, his voice was strained and you were scared. Terrified. “Y/N didn’t tell me about you. Have you, darling?” There was a threat in his voice.

“Oh,” you nod, licking your lips. Your voice was wavering. “Mr. Shelby i-is someone I knew when I was a child, darling. He left for the war and…and…”

“We haven’t seen each other since,” he finishes.  “I wish we could talk more,” Tommy added, confirming what he already thought. He didn’t spare you a glance and if he did, he didn’t make a show of it. “Mr. Coventry. Y/N,” he bowed, taking your gloved hand and kissing your knuckles. He walks away, leaving Simon’s anger and your anxiety behind him. 

Simon didn’t speak to you on the way back. You tried but he only dismissed you with a cold shoulder. When you arrived home, he dragged you by the arm to the living room. You watched while the servants dispersed to give you some privacy. It was funny how they always pretended that they knew nothing.

“Do you really think I’m fucking stupid?” he roared, his loud voice vibrating the walls of your home. “You talked to Polly Gray but didn’t meet Tommy. At all,”

“You have to believe me, Simon. I never…it’s my first time seeing him again!” you pleaded, scared for Tommy’s life—scared for yours. Your arm hurts but you have bigger problems right now. What was a little bruise anyway? “I didn’t even know if he was still alive,”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked. “It’s like everything that you’re saying are…are lies! I gave you everything,” he spits. “I gave you and your friends money. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be in that fucking brothel fucking some twat who could never afford everything that I’m giving you. Is that what you want? Do you want to go back there?”

“Simon,” you tried. “I swear, I didn’t know he was still alive. Polly never told me. I—“

“Liar!” he says, stepping closer to you. He grasps your chin tightly, your head unmoving at the pressure. “I bought you. Don’t you dare fucking disrespect me. I own you,” 

“Simon, please…” you cried. “I swear to you I didn’t…”

“Shut up,” he spits. “You’re fucking disgusting,”

He shoves you to the floor and you cry. He leaves without looking at you. He didn’t apologise for what he did. It was the first time he showed you what you were to him. A property. You didn’t sleep that night; you were just on the balcony, looking at the docks, wondering what would’ve happened if you had just waited. 

-

The morning comes and you are tired. Simon just woke up and decided to stay with you on the balcony. 

“I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. “I’m sorry for doing that. I promise to never do that again. I was just…so angry because Tommy Shelby came to us. Do you see why you’re not allowed to be here? Why I hate it when you’re in Birmingham? These fucking rats have no respect,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Simon, you said things,” you whispered, looking up at him. Tears stained your cheeks. Everything that he said replayed inside your head over and over.  What right did you have to demand his apology if he owned you? “You…”

Defeated, Simon sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You know that I’m doing this for us. I’m sorry,”

You could only nod wordlessly, blinking away the tears before they fall again. You didn’t notice the bruising on your jaw yet. You weren’t at the brothel anymore but up to what extent are you truly free? At the end of the day, you’re still weak. You still have nothing. At the end of the day, buttering him up doesn’t matter.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1912

“One day, we’ll be able to buy those fancy, black cars and drive around London as much as we want.” Tommy said. He was in his work clothes, a greasy white shirt and his shaggy hair falling in different sorts of places. 

“We will?”

“Yes,” he nodded, his shoulder touching yours. You were just about to work when he pulled you away. He asked if you wanted to come with him to The Cut for a little while and you agreed, finding it hard to say no to him. “I’ll get you one and then, I’ll get you a horse.” 

“Don’t forget the house with a big lawn,” you giggled. 

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I’ll buy that first,”

“Would you hate me if things don’t work out the way we want them to?” you asked. “I’m just wondering,”

“Why wouldn’t it? We’re staying together,” Tommy said, casting you a confused look. 

“I mean, you’ll get a wife. I can’t live in the same house as her,” you said. “I don’t want to cause unnecessary problems for the two of you. I want her to be my friend too.”

“I’m not marrying,” he said. “Why should I marry? We come as a pair. Never one without the other. We won’t need anyone else,”

“That would be nice.”

“I get it,” he nodded. “You’re always my main priority. I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about all that yet. As long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine,”

“And if I’m not?”

“I won’t,”

“How are you going to do all this?” you asked. You always believed in Tommy.

“I’ll do everything,” 

“You’re a man of ambition, Tommy. Did you know that you can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous?”

He ponders. He’ll deal all of his cards and fold if it came to you.

There were a million things you wanted to tell him at that moment. He does, too. He looks at you so…lovingly and so naturally that it doesn’t seem like anything anymore. Tommy really didn’t fear anything, except when it came to you. He’s scared to tell you the truth because he might change the course of things. He’s scared to never fulfil all of his promises to you. He’s scared that he’ll never amount to anything other than a greasy boy that you took care of. 

He doesn’t say any of this, though, so he just smokes slow. 

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“I have to do something about it,” Tommy told his brothers, taking a swig of his Irish whiskey. He was composed but his mind was running at a speed that he couldn’t quite catch up on. Were you happy in your marriage?

“Tom, it’s better if you could just let her go,” Arthur replied. “It’s not my place, hm? But we saw them yesterday. Maybe it’s for the best,”

“It’s not,” Stoic as ever, he looked ahead. 

“It’s a bad idea…” his older brother tried. “You’re fighting against a king. You’re not—“

“Why is everyone telling me that I can’t do anything? Why?” he asked. “I hardly recall asking for your permission, Arthur. You and Polly have been telling me what I can and can’t do.” 

“Tommy, think about it. With the fucking guns and taking on this whole…thing with her. It’s too big. So, just let it go, eh? You’ll get yourself killed,” John added. He knew of Tommy’s affections for you. Hell, he knew what Tommy meant. John discreetly watched you and your husband. You couldn’t maintain eye contact, you couldn’t speak freely without a stutter. It was so different from the Y/N that he used to know but Tommy couldn’t be persuaded. He was living on the edge of life in the war that it didn’t matter to him if he died or not. He’s free from the fear of death; he could do whatever he wanted. 

“I’m a man of ambition. You can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous,”

-

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Tommy feels like the world was caving in. Fuck. He always hated sleeping, no matter how much he craved it. The darkness of his room and his closed eyes reminds him of the darkness of the tunnels. The walls and the tightness of the closed spaces; the unknown waiting on the other side. The lives he lost, the blood that his comrades spilled. He sits up, he hates how he couldn’t sleep because he’s always hearing the gunshots and the bombs in France. He hates being weak. Things were never the same and he so desperately wanted it to be. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. He couldn’t see the faint lamp that burned on his bedside table. The ringing in his ears doesn’t subside. It was just fucking dark. 

He looks over his bedside table and reaches for your picture. You always seemed to calm him no matter where he went. No matter what he does, you always seem to ground him.

“Y/N,” he whispered, taking a swig of his whiskey. As if that would just conjure you. He was sometimes convinced that your picture was an apparition of the time when everything was quieter. When his world had no guns and bombs. When you two were together. He frowns, taking his head in between his hands and cries. 

If only he was stronger. If only he was rich. If only he could fulfil all of the promises he gave you. If only.

-

If there was anything he regretted, it was how angry he was when he went to your old house for your first meeting. He’s been waiting to be graced by your smile for years but he couldn’t control the anger that brewed inside him. He was so guarded after the war. But those guards seem to crumble around you, leaving him defenceless and vulnerable like a child. 

A knock on his door arouses him. It was currently just before the sunrise; that hazy blue period that calms him before everyone else wakes. He checked from his window outside but there was nothing. Another knock comes and he sighs, going downstairs to check. He puts his gun behind him. He opens the door and it reveals you.

You were shaking like a leaf when his eyes landed on your figure. 

“I don’t know…where else to…to go,” you whispered. He goes out and looks around to make sure that no one’s there. When the coast is clear, he takes your hand and guides you to the living room. He was hoping that no one heard anything.

“Do you need anything?” he asked. 

“Just…water, please,” 

“Did you walk all the way?” 

“Yeah,” he hears you say while he pours you a glass. “Sorry for disturbing you,” 

“It’s alright,” he tells you, giving you the glass. 

“Yeah,” you replied, drinking the water to avoid any sort of communication with your old friend. “Tommy?”

“Hm?” he asked, sitting in front of you and it’s so different it hurts. He used to sit beside you, knee to knee. He had to blink multiple times to clear his vision—to make sure that you were actually there. “What brings you here?”

“I…I…” you couldn’t say a single word before you broke into tears. It was then when Tommy actually looked at you, the bruising on your chin, your defeated stance. He trembles in anger but forces himself to let it subside and comfort you. “S-sorry,”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, love,” he whispers, sitting beside you this time and rubbing circles on your back. “You don’t have to talk about it,”

“Would you still…would you still protect me?” you asked and you were aware of how selfish you sounded. “You’re right. I’m a-a whore,” you chuckled, looking away from him. “I know I’m being unfair…marrying Simon and then coming here…”

It appals him for you to think that he’ll ever stop protecting you. It disturbs him for letting you think that way because of one argument. 

Your chin was quivering as you tried to form a coherent sentence. 

“I thought…I thought I was free but he laid a hand on me,” you tried. “Gripped my chin and called me his property,”

You told yourself that it wasn’t Tommy’s fault. 

“All because you talked to me during the funeral,” you whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself and Tommy couldn’t stop himself from the emotions that linger. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault that you loved him. 

“Let’s run away,” It’s all his fault. All his fault that he loved you. 

“Tommy…” you whispered, shaking your head. “Did you know…did you know why I stopped talking to you?” you asked him. He didn’t. Maybe the reason why he’s so angry with you was because he didn’t know. “When you were in France, he told me that if I continue any form of communication with the Shelbys…he’ll locate you and your brothers and have the three of you killed.” You reveal to him. “You always said you’ll protect me but I wanted to protect you too.”

Your broken voice was something that he’ll never forget. Your fragile figure was something that he’ll never remove from his brain. You were…miserable. How could you let yourself be miserable for his sake? How could Simon let you cry? How could he break you? You were so strong, the strongest he’s ever known.

“I will kill him,” 

“Tommy, no,” you whimpered. “I’m here to tell you that…that the best way to protect me is to forget about me,”

“You can’t do that to me,” Tommy replied, his voice stern. He was trying so, so hard. “Not when I waited to come home for four years.”

“It’s the best way,” you pleaded. “You can go start a family or…or do something else but if you really want to protect me, you’ll forget about me,” 

You were so defeated, your figure curled to your heart like you were protecting yourself from everyone. Tommy could see the stutter of your body while you tried to control everything.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he tried, blinking the tears away but failing. His resolve was crumbling; popping the joints on his knuckles to ground him. It was then he noticed your nail beds, peeled and crusted with dried blood. You must have been thinking about it for so long. “You’re not giving me a choice here, love,” You must have been hurting.

“He’ll kill you, Tom. I wouldn’t be able to take it if I am the reason why your body’s thrown at The Cut.” you told him. “I let you go once without knowing for sure that you’ll come back alive. I’ll make sure that this time, you are.”

“So that’s it, eh?” he asked. “Your bastard husband threatens my life and you let him control you.” he licks his lips.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” you told him. “That's all I could do. You’re a man…you could have the world. I’m a woman and I can’t have anything unless I make it. This is me making it.” This is me making sure that I’ll never have to think about you. 

You left in the wee hours of the morning and Tommy lets you go without a fight. He thought that he was the one doing the protecting, when you’ve been protecting him all along. You were his most tender wound. Battle scars from France don't compare to the pain he’s feeling in the darkness of the house. Should he run after you? Should he heed your advice? What if he kills Simon? Will you be free then?

“Her husband’s dealing with Alfie Solomons,” he tells everyone during a family meeting. “I’ll deal with Solomons myself,”

“You’re waging a war that is bigger than all of us, Tommy,” Arthur said.

“I’m not asking for approval,” he only replied, his voice was monotonous; suppressing his emotions as much as he could. He swallows. “Information about Y/N’s home life has reached me. She told me that the best way to protect her is to forget about her.” He confessed.

“Well, shit,” Ada replied. “Surely…”

“Surely, I won’t.” he said, voice stern and determined. “I’ll deal all of my cards if I have to. Do you get that?”

“Tommy, it’s a bad idea. She’s right. With the fucking inspector on our throats and Simon Coventry…you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I have decided,”

“Then, what’s all of this for, then?”

“Just letting you know.” he says, looking at everyone’s face of disapproval. 

When he exits the Garrison, Polly runs after him. She was determined to let him let you go for your safety. It was a sticky situation that Tommy was putting himself in. A semblance of power doesn’t mean that he’s powerful but he couldn’t seem to understand that. 

“Tommy, do you want to save her because you want to or is it because you have to prove yourself to you?” she asked him, grasping his arm. 

“Polly—“

“Do you love her because you do or do you only think you do because you need her? It’s alright to let her go, Tom. You have to realise that maybe she’s correct,” she reasoned. “The more you move, the more she’s constricted—“ 

“You took her away from me, Polly,” he spits. “How can I not love her when I need her beside me to even get a wink of sleep? Her picture was all I looked at in France. She is the reason why I’m alive—why I’m here. You took her away from me and I am taking her back. Does that look like love to you?” he demanded, shaking her arm away. 

“You want to know what blinds a man as smart as you, Tom? Love,” she says. “You’re making things—“

“So I am blind,” he shrugs. “I vowed to protect her and that is a vow that I’ll take to the grave with me, Pol. You could help or not. It wouldn’t matter either way but you owe it to me to try. At least,” 

A beat passes, Polly doesn’t speak. He nods to excuse himself, walking away as the blind man.

-

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m so glad you’re still here.

Don’t forget to reblog / leave a comment if you liked it!

PART 4

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[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part five

I wanted to get this one out quickly for y’all!! here is the much needed relief we all needed after that last chapter. as always, lmk what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist!

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part five

add yourself to my taglist

prologue - one - two - three - four 

word count: 4.3k

warnings: language, angst, basically another grey’s anatomy ep so... medical inaccuracies and drama !!!

Sitting in one of the imaging rooms in your own hospital, a room you’d previously spent countless hours in and would go on to spend countless more, brought you a small bit of peace. You were surrounded by familiar faces and doctors you trusted and respected, and that made a world of a difference in your confidence for Mary’s outcome. Despite how close you were to the case no one was excluding you from conversations or keeping you out of the loop on anything, you were given just as much of a voice as Dr. Lewis in dictating her care as you looked over several of her scans and brainstormed a game plan. If this was truly your case you would have kicked your own ass to the curb several hours ago but the patience and grace everyone was extending you didn’t go unnoticed. 

“What if you try coming in through here?” you asked, and Dr. Lewis pondered your suggestion for a moment, trying to visualize before shaking his head.

“If I insert the probe here,” he said, illustrating the path with his fingers, “I’m going to disrupt something here,” he circled around Broca’s Area. “Do that and she’ll lose the ability to speak, she’s a teacher right?”

“Third grade, and she’s damn good at it,” you sighed.

“Then we aren’t taking any risks, I think our best course here is to go in this way,” he said, outlining a new pathway and you nodded.

“It’s still tricky but I think that’s going to be the best approach,” you agreed. 

“Why did you end up leaving neuro? You’ve clearly got a knack for it,” he asked suddenly, looking you over curiously.

“I loved neuro, did Dr. Adams tell you he used to call us the Brain Buddies?” you asked and he shook his head laughing. “He’d go around the hospital saying it like we were some superhero duo… I used to think there was no high like neurosurgery, but then one day there was this massive train crash. Most people were too unstable to move so we went to them. When we got there most had already died and the ones who hadn’t were one slight breeze away from following suit. There was this girl, about my age, who was bleeding out faster than I could control. Nothing was working and I began to panic… trauma is quick and dirty, there’s no time to gameplan or even think, you just have to figure it out as you go and be resourceful, so I used dirt,” you chuckled though it really wasn’t funny. “I just scooped a handful and packed the wound and it worked… we had to load her up on so many antibiotics she got C. Diff and the poor thing needed a fecal transplant but she made a full recovery,” you said with a smile. “That was a high unlike anything else, and I just never looked back. Trauma is where all the fun is.” 

“You sound exactly like one of my buddies who’s a doctor with the Army… you ever considered that path?”

“Briefly but… Jake, Mary’s son, is in the Navy. Every deployment crushes both of our parents and they worry, I couldn’t do that to them… I think they’d all lose their minds if they lost both of their kids to that life,” you said and he nodded.

“Well, let’s go give her some good news, let her know what the plan is.” Mary was surprisingly calm throughout the whole thing, she didn’t even blink when Dr. Lewis briefed her on all the risks (stroke, paralysis, loss of speech, death), all she had said was well, if I can’t speak there’s always sign language and death is better than a painful year of chemo. Really she didn’t care about any of it, she asked if you agreed with his approach and she’d said that was all she needed to know when you’d answered yes. She’d truly put all of her trust in you, she let go of the whole thing and just accepted that because you said it would be okay that it would… and that terrifies you beyond belief. You were a confident doctor, always had been, but right now with her looking at you with such pride and peace you felt sick, knowing that no matter how good a patient’s outcome looks going into surgery that can always change at the drop of a hat.

“That’s the attitude, Mary, keep that up… patients who go in with a positive outlook are much more likely to come out the other side,” Dr. Lewis said. You oversaw the interns in charge of her pre-op care and she had watched through amused eyes as you ordered them around and even called you a hardass… much like Jake had done when he’d visited you in Boston. 

“It seems mean now but Dr. Stevens will tell you his skills have improved since I came around to knock some sense into him. If you put the fear of god in them they’re much more malleable,” you joked.

“It must be working because they are terrified to disappoint you,” Mary said and you didn’t miss how proud she sounded.

“Jupiter is very tough, tougher than any of the attendings but I’ve learned a lot from her,” Dr. Stevens confirmed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “And she makes a mean chocolate chip cookie, I heard that was your recipe.”

“Stop kissing my ass and bring me her updated labs,” you said and he nodded quickly as we went to leave the room, “and just because I’m off duty that doesn’t mean I’m not doctor to you!” you called after him and Mary just laughed.

“I like seeing this side of you,” she said, looking up at you appreciatively and you gave her a warm smile. “If I’m being honest I thought wanting to be a surgeon at twelve years old was just a crazy phase… thought you maybe saw a cool doctor in a movie or something but looking at you now… I couldn’t imagine you doing anything else,” she said.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” you said, giving her hand a squeeze and you noticed Jake enter the room without saying a word.

“You’ll be in the surgery?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’m not allowed to be involved in the actual operation… it’s too much of a conflict of interest, but Dr. Lewis has graciously agreed to let me be in the room with you.”

“That makes me feel better… knowing you’ll be there,” she said and you gave her another smile before you excused yourself to step into the hallway when Dr. Stevens flagged you down and you looked over her labs in relief.

“What do these tell you?” you asked, handing the paper back to him and he looked at you curiously for a moment, “I taught you better than this, Dr. Stevens, I know you can read labs,” you said.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to be teaching right now,” he said and you watched as he looked over the paper and processed the information. “These all look good, she’s in optimal shape to be heading into surgery,” he said and you nodded.

“Exactly, let Dr. Lewis know and page me when you’re taking her up.”

“Didn’t expect you to be teaching right now either,” you heard Jake say and you turned around to face him with a sigh.

“Your mom’s case is an incredible teaching example and Dr. Stevens shows promise within neuro. Your mom understands that, she’s thrilled he’s getting to learn from her and she wants me to take the opportunity to teach when I can, it’s my job.” you said.

“But you’re not working right now,” he said and you gave a soft nod.

“You’re right, I’m not… I’m just doing everything I can to make sure she receives the best standard of care and teaching when I have the opportunity to ensures that, not just for her but for everyone else’s mom that comes in after her.” He just nodded and you could tell that he was annoyed with you. “Jake, just talk to me.”

“We’ve already gone through the procedure, I don’t need to talk about it anymore,” he replied and you furrowed your brows.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I need you, J. I need you and you’re not here,” he said in a hushed whisper, trying to avoid the nosy ears of your interns at the desk just a few feet away.

“I’m right here,” you said but he just shook his head.

“You’re not. You’re making calls and teaching interns, or holed away in an imaging room and you’re talking to me like I’m just some patient’s family member. There’s enough doctors around here, I just needed you… I needed you to be my Jupiter through this and you were just another doctor,” he said with a disappointed look before stepping back into his mother’s room and any tension that had eased after setting the plan in place with Dr. Lewis was back in full force. Your heart ached and you wanted to go after him but you knew this wasn’t the moment… he was angry and scared and he didn’t understand where you were coming from and that was all okay. There was no way to rationalize with his mother heading into brain surgery in less than an hour and you chose to believe that when the dust settled and she came out the other side things would level out but as selfish as it was… you needed a moment. A moment to clear your head and think so you wandered down to the emergency department, you let your eyes rake over the space as you took stock of how things were holding up in your absence and while you stood in front of the patient board you jumped when the Head of Trauma, Dr. Fowles approached you.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, looking at you apologeticly as you placed a hand over your heart. 

“Needed a breather,” you said and he laughed.

“So you came to the pit for a little relaxation?” You nodded with a sheepish smile. “Want something to take your mind off it?”

“Please, I’ll take anything,” you said and he led you over to Bay Three and opened the curtain to reveal a beautiful laceration just begging for you to suture it. You introduced yourself as you gloved up and made small talk with her as you worked, taking your time to ensure she had as little scarring as possible.

“One minute you’re making lunch for your boyfriend, who is incredibly ungrateful by the way, and the next you’re in the ER because you zoned out wondering what your old college boyfriend was up to and sliced right through the avocado and into your hand,” she sighed and you chuckled.

“Never go down the college boyfriend rabbit hole, it’s never worth it,” you said. You finally felt like yourself, sure you’d been acting like a doctor nonstop for the past three days but it was all so deeply personal. This was cut and dry, you’d patch her up and send her on her way and likely never see her again. This was medicine without baggage and it felt so good. You hoped Jake was still somewhere on the other side of the hospital, if he saw you right now with that sparkle back in your eye hunched over this patient's open palm it would only make matters worse.

“You got lucky, I’m looking at the tendon here but you didn’t cut through… could be a sign… or a wake up call,” you suggested and she nodded.

“A sign to dump his sorry ass and find someone who will actually drive me to the ER instead of making me get blood all over my brand new car? Yeah, I’m one step ahead of you,” she said and you let out a soft laugh. 

“Well, you’re all good. Take the antibiotics, make sure you’re eating things with lots of good bacteria and fully finish the course even if it doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything… and please, don’t let him reel you back in the way they’re always so good at,” you said with a smile as you pulled your gloves off and went to the desk to update her chart.

“You’re a junkie,” Dr. Fowles said and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Takes one to know one,” you said, handing him the chart as your pager beeped and he wished you luck as you ran towards the elevator. You texted Jake to let him know you’d come out with an update once you had one and were on your way to meet them in the OR. Standing in the scrub room and overlooking them prepping Mary through the window you took a deep breath, you knew things would move quickly the second you got her here but it truly felt like one minute you were at the Hard Deck laughing with your friends and the next you’re here… about to step into surgery on one of the most important people in your life.

“I know you can’t tell through my mask, but I’m smiling right now,” you said as you approached her.

“I know, honey,” she replied and the anesthesiologist looked at you to let you know they were ready when you were. “Promise me something,” she said and you just shook your head.

“I’m not making you any promises, Mary, you’re not on your deathbed.”

“Promise me that when I’m out of the woods you are going to put me and John and your parents out of our misery and finally kiss that son of mine,” she said and you let out a shocked laugh.

“You are about to go under for brain surgery and that’s what you’re worried about right now?” you teased.

“You two drive me nuts! Just give me a wedding already.” she said and you shook your head.

“I’ll see what I can do… I’ll see you after, okay?” you said, nodding to the anesthesiologist. “Countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten… nine… give me a wedding… eight… seven-” she slurred as she fell under and you just chuckled to yourself as Dr. Lewis entered the room.

“Alright, Jupiter… I have been patient with you all day as you made me run through my surgical plan a dozen times and all but demanded to be in here, and I was happy to oblige because I like you, however there will not be a peep out of you from here on out, are we understood?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good, because I will throw you out so please don’t make me have to.” You watched as he began, your eyes intently flitting between his hands and the monitor that was displaying an aerial view of the surgical field and you felt nausea begin to creep in. You listened as Dr. Fowles narrated everything he was doing to Dr. Stevens, who you wanted to throw a bedpan at when they got eyes on the tumor… really you couldn’t be mad, his reaction was warranted and it was cool, but it would be a hell of a lot cooler if that tumor wasn’t in Jake’s mom’s head. You listened as Dr. Fowles changed his surgical approach, this was always a possibility. The scans give you a lot of information but any plans are just loose ideas until you actually get in there and see what’s going on, and you bit your tongue as you let him make his best judgment call on how to proceed. You were now two hours into the surgery but it felt like no time had passed at all.

“Alright, I think we’re ready to pull this sucker out, Dr. Stevens would you like to man the cautery?” Dr. Fowles asked and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Absolutely not,” you said before your mind could catch up and tell you to keep your mouth shut.

“Are we forgetting you’re not to speak in this OR?”

“With all due respect sir, as promising as Dr. Stevens is, one wrong move with that cautery and all of this will have been for nothing.” you said and you watched as his hands stilled on the monitor.

“It seems Jupiter doesn’t want you to learn today,” Dr. Fowles said and Dr. Stevens looked between the two of you, clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’ll just observe. She’s right, I’ve never cauterized before and I still have a lot I want to learn from her… I’d rather not jeopardize that by sending her best friend's mom to the vegetable patch.” he said and you nodded in satisfaction. You would personally see to it that Dr. Stevens scrubbed in with you on every one of your surgeries for the foreseeable future to make up for the learning opportunity you’d just robbed him of. Things seemed to be progressing smoothly until the monitors started beeping frantically and you watched as her BP suddenly tanked and you felt your stomach drop as Dr. Fowles started barking out orders that weren’t quite registering in your ears.

“No… no, no no,” you muttered, a tidal wave of panic crashing over you as you ran out into the hallway and braced yourself on a wall, trying desperately to get your breathing under control. You quickly hunched over a trash can and let the nausea take over, vomiting onto the pile of discarded gloves and trauma gowns as the door opened to reveal a scrub nurse.

“Dr. Fowles is asking you to come back in,” she said and you shook your head, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall. “Come on, just come see,” she said and you placed your mask back over your face as you tentatively followed.

“You missed the good part, Jupiter… the tumor is out.”

“Her vitals?” you asked, taking a small step closer as you looked at the monitors but you didn’t trust your eyes.

“She’s a fighter,” he answered and you sighed in relief. “I’m about to pack with gelfoam but it appears we are out of the woods. Would you like to go update them as I close?” he asked but you were already halfway out the door, ripping off your mask and sprinting down the hallways until you burst into the waiting area. Jake and John jumped up, looking at you expectantly and as they took in your tear streaked face and rapid breathing you watched as their faces fell.

“No! No no no,” you said, taking in a sharp breath. “It’s good, it all went good, they’re closing now, she’ll be in recovery within the half hour,” you said and they both exhaled in relief. 

“Oh thank god,” John whispered, pulling you in for a bone crushing hug. “Thank you,” he pulled away to place a kiss on your forehead. “There will never be enough thank you’s for this,” he said as he wiped his own tears. You looked over to Jake who had sunk into one of the chairs with his head hung in his hands and you crouched on the floor in front of him and gently placed a hand on his knee.

“Jake? She’s going to be okay,” you said and he lifted his head to look at you with glassy eyes, “it went as well as we could have hoped. We won’t be certain until she wakes up but I have a very good feeling.” 

“J…” he started, but was cut off by his own tears and you pushed him back in his seat to perch on his legs and pull him into your chest.

“I know…” you soothed, rubbing a hand up and down his back. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you just sat there as you held him, whispering reassurances into his ear. You hooked a finger on his chin, softly tilting his head to look up at you before resting your palms on his cheeks. “I’m going to call my parents, let them know… and Rooster too, everyone’s been really worried,” you said and he nodded. You placed a kiss on his forehead as you slid off his lap and you stepped away and pulled out your phone. Your mother had cried, sobbed really, and your dad told you to pass along their well wishes for recovery when he took over the call, you could hear the relief in his voice as he told you how proud he was of you.

“Please tell me she’s okay,” Rooster said as he answered and you let out a breathy laugh.

“She’s good… we’re in the wait and see portion, but I think we’re in the clear. Can you talk with Mav? She’ll be out of here in a few days but this whole thing has him pretty rattled. I know I don’t have the authority but I’m not clearing him for work just yet,” you said and Rooster chuckled.

“Doctor’s orders,” he said and you let out a soft laugh as well. “Mav said to take all the time he needs, there’s no rush to get back.” You thanked him as you hung up, telling him to pass it along to the rest of the Dagger’s as well for how supportive they’ve been throughout. Your pager went off as you approached the two of them and you gave them a reassuring look.

“She’s in post op now, I’m confident everything is fine but I’m going to head up and just be sure, okay?” you said and they nodded as you made your way to the elevator and you all but ran into the room, eyes immediately scanning the brain activity monitor.

“How’s it looking?” you asked a bit frantically.

“Looking good,” Dr. Fowles answered as you grabbed her chart from him to look it over. “You know as well as I do we won’t know for sure until she wakes up but I don’t think we should expect any deficits.” You dropped the chart into its place at the end of her bed and threw your arms around him.

“I know this is unprofessional but just go with it,” you said as you started crying again and he chuckled as he reciprocated and rubbed along your back. “I owe you big time, thank you for everything… I am available for any and every pro-bono surgery you need me for from here on out,” you said. 

“I think I’ll hold onto my favor for a little while,” he teased as you pulled away and you laughed as you wiped your cheeks and asked an orderly to grab Jake and John.

“Well, whatever it is it better be big, I owe you a lifetime's worth of thank you’s.” He slipped out of the room and let you know he would check back later and you felt the dark cloud that had been hovering over you the past few days begin to dissipate and with it brought the crushing weight of every feeling you’d been fighting off. You let out a broken sob and immediately turned to leave the room, not noticing Jake walking down the hallway as you hurried the opposite direction and shut yourself into an on-call room. He poked his head into his mom’s room, making sure everything was okay before chasing after you and he found you sitting on the floor with your back against a nightstand and your head between your knees as you tried to regulate your breathing. He was silent as he sat beside you and you lifted your head slightly.

“You don’t need to be here,” you choked out, “I know you’re mad at me, and it’s… I’m okay, really, go sit with your mom.” He didn’t respond, instead he reached around you to grip underneath your arms and pulled you to sit between his legs where he wrapped himself around you and it was the final straw to push you over the edge. You leaned back against him as he held you tight and fell apart in his arms… you’d tried to say something but nothing would come out around your cries, and Jake just let you get it all out.

“I’m not mad at you,” he finally said when your breathing started to even out. “I was but… I was wrong. I didn’t-” he stopped himself for a moment, taking a deep breath as he fought his own tears. “Not once did I stop and consider what this was like for you, I was selfish. You.. I mean, god Jupiter,” he let out a humorless laugh. “You swept in and had this handled in less than three days. I was so wrapped up in what you weren’t doing that I didn’t think about what you were doing, and that was everything… you held it together for all of us, you made sure she would be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you sniffled.

“Yes, I do. I thought you weren’t there for me, but you were. You always are, even if I don’t see it at first. I’m so sorry that I made this harder on you,” he said, giving you another squeeze and you melted against him. “I was mad at you for who you are, and that’s… I say how proud I am of the doctor you’ve become and in the moment that you were doing everything you could to help my mom I was an absolute asshole.”

“You weren’t an asshole… I treated you like a patient’s family, and you reacted the way family does.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Do you want to go check on your mom?” you asked and he shook his head.

“No. I want to just sit here with you for a little while if that’s okay,” he replied and you nodded, letting your head fall against his arm.

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

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[bitchinbarzal]

Like it’s Penny’s biggest competition so everyone is in town her parents, siblings, her uncles and cousins came in town, Ellen and Jim, and the Pettersons everyone is there. And Penny’s in the middle of her routine and she gets really dizzy and she falls and breaks her ankle maybe she gets a concussion too. Everyone is freaking out. And when they get to the hospital they realize Penny hasn’t been eating. She’s been starving herself because her boyfriend told her she needs to lose weight. And Quinn and Elias are the most angry because those are both of her dads. Everyone is ready to to murder toxic boyfriend. But that’s also when everyone realizes she’s not ok. She’s mentally and physically exhausted.

The nurse has never seen a waiting room so full.

Penny’s mom was the only one allowed in the room so she went in to see her daughter, spoke with her doctor and came back out to report to the family.

When she emerged from the room everyone noticed her face covered in tears

“What’s happening?” Quinn asks, taking his wife into his arms.

“She- she’s not been eating? She wouldn’t speak to me but her doctor said the psychiatrist spoke to her and she’s malnourished, she said something about her boyfriend made her do it?”

She felt Quinn tense up and everyone else in the room got uncomfortable looking around at one another.

Everyone knew they didn’t like her boyfriend already but what they heard made their blood boil.

Her parents are crying, trying to make sense of what is being said.

In the silence Milo stands up, brushing his hands on his jeans

“Well if nobody else is gonna…” and walks towards the exit. On a typical day Luke and his wife would’ve stopped their son from acting on anger. He was six and a half foot tall and built of pure muscle.

Ryder, Otis and Ozzy all stood up too. Following behind the Hughes boy.

With her parents so upset and confused Mrs Pettersson took it upon herself to coordinate everything with the doctors.

“She’s just our little girl”

“We’re all behind her, she’ll be ok”

[wish-incorrect-quotes]

I’ve seen a few people mention how much Simon looks like he could be the son of these two, and while I don’t know if the timelines work enough for it to be possible, it’s a fun concept just to think about. So here’s some ideas I had about how it might play out:

Basically, Lady Tremaine spends awhile hoping that Anastasia’s whole “falling in love with a commoner” thing is just a temporary inconvenience, and eventually she’ll be able to push her daughter into a more respectable marriage with a proper nobleman. But as soon as she finds out the baker proposed and Anastasia accepted, Tremaine pretty much immediately disowns her, and Anastasia loses her access to the family title and money.

By this point, Cinderella and Anastasia have a much better relationship, so Cinderella offers to use her newfound royal status and try to undo Lady Tremaine’s decision, but Anastasia ends up telling her not to bother. The more time she spends with the baker, the more she finds herself enjoying the simple life. Even if she now has to worry about earning a living, it’s amazing how much easier life feels when she doesn’t have to face her mother’s pressure and expectations, or go through royal balls where she's expected to be better than everyone else but always seems to fall short. Just peaceful days, helping her husband bake bread in the little village where people are always kind and friendly. And before they know it, the two of them are welcoming a baby boy into the world, who’s nearly the spitting image of his father, but with his mother’s red hair and his grandmother’s green eyes. Not that Lady Tremaine has any interest in meeting the boy, if Anastasia would even allow it.

As Simon grows up, he eventually gets curious about how his parents met. Anastasia can be a bit overprotective, and she tries to leave out the most unpleasant parts, but she’s happy to tell him all about how she loves her new home and family so much that she’s never regretted leaving behind a life of luxury for them. Simon, however, can’t help but think that the story sounds unfair. It’s not that he really cares about having a title or attending fancy balls, but it doesn’t seem right to him that his mother had to lose everything because of who she loved.

Eventually, this leads to Simon getting his heart set on becoming a knight, because it’s about the only way someone can work their way into a more “noble” rank. And if his mother has a knight for a son, it could get them all a lot closer to the life she had before. He doesn’t mention why he’s so keen on knighthood, since he doesn’t want his parents to feel guilty and tell him not to go through so much trouble for their sakes, so they figure it’s his own dream and do what they can to support him. But the problem is, he’s not any good at it. He has plenty of strength, but he’s very much a gentle soul, and when his heart isn’t in it, he just can’t seem to develop any talent with a sword and shield.

He’s discouraged for awhile, until he starts hearing rumors of a foreign kingdom with a sorcerer king that can instantly give people what they wish for. And since he isn’t getting anywhere on his own, he starts to become more and more convinced that this is his only chance. He knows how much his parents love their bakery, so he tells them he wants to try striking out on his own for awhile now that he’s getting older. Anastasia and the baker are both more than a little worried about the thought of their son going off to find work somewhere far away from them, but Anastasia remembers what it was like having a controlling mother who didn’t care about her own dreams, so she decides they should let him go if this is what he wants.

So Simon sails to Rosas and soon finds work in the castle, hoping that maybe working close to the king will help his wish get granted faster once he’s old enough to give it away. Thought he finds out before long that things might not go quite as smoothly as he expected based on the stories he heard. There’s a lot more people who have been waiting a long time than he expected. But everyone’s always praising the king, so if he's enough of a good and loyal citizen, surely he'll get his wish granted, right? Plus, he’s been making some great friends in the castle, and he enjoys being able to put in a good day’s work with them, so he can’t complain.

Then he reaches his eighteenth birthday, eagerly gives the king his long-awaited wish, and… is he supposed to feel this tired all the time? Everyone always talks about how wonderful it is, how it’s a real weight off. But he doesn’t feel lighter, he feels like his eyes are always heavy, and he's too exhausted to even feel like himself most of the time.

And then that’s how we get to the events of the movie. I guess Magnifico’s lucky that Simon wouldn’t want to worry his parents and would keep sending letters making it sound like everything was fine. Because Anastasia might have softened over the years, but she definitely still has a temper, not to mention a royal stepsister to turn to, and I’m sure she wouldn’t just take it quietly if she learned some distant king had caused her beloved son to lose all his energy and joy for life.

[bi-bi-buckleys]

So I’m thinking about Eddie asking Buck to talk to Chris (ie please help my son NOT be upset with me) and Bucks going to talk to Chris, obviously, but he can’t fix this. He can listen to Chris and be there for him but I just don’t see that necessarily helping Eddie because Buck knows Eddie messed up. Like he didn’t intentionally set out to hurt Chris and he didn’t plan for Chris to see Kim, but it still happened. And Buck loves both of them but at this moment he’s going to be objective and if Chris says he wants to spend the summer with his grandparents, Buck might gently suggest to Eddie that that might not be such a horrible thing for both of them. They can spend some time apart to heal from this and then find their way back to each other. But see Eddie’s hurt and upset and Buck’s the guy who fixes things, and Buck can’t fix this, and so I’m not saying Eddie’s gonna rage and scream at Buck, but he’ll just kinda be silently hurt and resigned (hence the isolation Ryan talked about) and think “wow you’re agreeing with the one thing I never wanted” because to Eddie, it’s just Chris leaving because he doesn’t want to be with Eddie. I’m saying all this from personal experience, of being the child who had to spend some time away from a parent, and that parent was hurt by it and they couldn’t see how it was better that way and only temporary. And I’m older now so I can see both sides, how that’s terrifying to think you’re going to lose your child. I can’t be mad at Eddie for how he’s going to feel in that situation. I feel so so strongly for him, but I also feel very strongly for Chris needing some space and being hurt because I get it. I also feel for Buck because he’s being put in a hard position and will want to help both of them. It’s a rough situation for all of them.

This is also why I don’t think it’ll lead to Buck choosing Eddie over Tommy because 1) you can care about and be there for more than one person shocking I know 2) again, the isolated thing 3) Buck’s gonna need his own support system, because Buck will do his damndest to be there for Eddie and care for him, but he’s gonna need someone outside of all of that to be there for him. He’s gonna hurt for Eddie and Chris, and Tommy has already proven he wants to be there for Buck. Plus you can’t live inside of someone else’s pain, you can’t always take all of that on. I can see it as “I’m here for my friend as much as I can be, as much as he’ll let me, but I’m also going to make time for this new relationship that makes me happy.” There’s been talk about how Tommy’s good for Buck and I think there’s a reason that that’s been a topic, he’s going to need something good.

Unpopular/unhinged theory time: I can ALMOST see Eddie reaching out to Kim. I know. That’s not great. But he’s probably lost Marisol, he’s “losing” Chris (temporarily), so it’s almost like fuck it, may as well. He’ll call her or visit her to thank her for trying to help, she’ll apologize, he’ll say it’s not your fault, they’ll get to talking, it’s a bad idea they both know it buuuuut… I’m just saying. That would be so insane. I’m kinda here for it.

[fenharel-babe]

A quick ramble of Papae Solas:

In my canon, Solas meets my Lavellan 3 times in total after DAI and it all ends in sex (ofc it does bc Bloom has NEVER had it before him and she’s in love with him sm and he’s a weak weak man). The first time is like 3 years after Trespasser, the second is about a year after that (he needed more) and then the third time is about a year BEFORE DATV.

It’s all sad and angsty the third time bc she KNOWS He’s going to do something from the way he’s acting and she’s just enjoying it the best she can without worrying about anything.

But rn I’m thinking about something. I believe in DA, because it’s a magic world, there could be a spell similar to birth control, like something that would stop pregnancy. I imagine that they use that spell each time instead of a condom (since they never know when they’re going to meet and Bloom never thinks about it bc he assures her he uses the spell) but….this time…the spell breaks. He uses it because he’s so cautious and so is she.

But he’s so upset and focused on losing himself in her and his magic is a little drained from all his work that…the spell breaks as soon as they both orgasm. He doesn’t realize it, but *she* does. She knows it broke, and she had a good feeling of what would happen. Instead of freaking out (at least out loud) and telling him, she kept it a secret from him and made sure none of his agents, enemies, or her past enemies (since she disbanded the inquisition) knew about this pregnancy.

The only people she told were a few of her family (the inquisition members that are close to her and her family from the Circle and such) members. Her brother being the first and then…DORIAN!!! She knew that man would be upset if he wasn’t one of the first people she told lmao. But ANYWAYS!!!! She freaks out and she’s, like, genuinely nervous and afraid. She has a human son, BUT he was adopted when she was in Kirkwall (before inquisition). So….shes never given birth before and it’s frightening, but she pushes through it all.

Solas NEVER knows. He has 0 idea about this pregnancy and that his love is literally carrying their children. He stops seeing her because he needs to focus on his mission, so she feels lonely and emotional though she understands. She never told him, so why would he visit? Once the twins are born, she raises them with her family the best she can. She gives them so much love, just like the others do. Even if they don’t understand her truly, she always says that their father would love them, that he *will* love them. She knows she’ll save him and that everything will be okay. At least she keeps telling herself that anyways.

So they’re literally only a few months old when DATV happens, but she will STILL go to that man to yell at him and talk to him and make him be safe and happy even tho she literally just gave birth a few months ago. Doesn’t matter. She’ll push through it, she’s survived worse. But yeah when she finally arrives and they get Solas, she eventually pulls him aside and tells him she needs to show him something, and when he says they’re all busy (the usual excuse he uses when he’s afraid to confront something) she basically says “NO. WE ARE FACING THIS NOW” and he listens. She’s never really yelled like she would at this time, so he knows it’s serious. He follows her through an eluvian to Joseph’s (her brother) and Cassandra’s home (they got together in my canon :)) and she shows him the twins.

He feels like he’s in a trap. Like he got slapped in the face, punched in the stomach, or even stabbed. It’s just…what? She had twins? And they’re his too? He has so many questions, but he goes quiet when she asks him softly “…Do you want to hold one of them? I want them to see your face. Please.”

And he holds one at a time. What else could he say? Deny her this little request? He wants to see them, hold them, love them, and he *does*. Even if it’s a quick moment, he holds them close and whispers his love for them and his apologizes and sorrow. He feels even MORE guilt towards Bloom since she dealt with this without him, but she doesn’t blame him since she never told him. She just says “This is another reason to keep fighting. *This* is why I’m so desperate to help Solas, and why I want to save you. I love you, and I can’t let you leave *us*.”

‘Us’ no longer means her family, but now THEIR FAMILY. And he fights harder because he doesn’t just have his love to return to, he has his own children to protect and live for. He can’t abandon them now that he knows they exist. He can’t, and he won’t as long as he has breath in his lungs.

At the end of the battles, they live. Solas and her manage to live together, making sure to hash out all their issues and deal with them together, and raise their kids with such love. Bloom makes sure to pay attention to Cameron (her human son), too, don’t get me wrong. She makes sure *all* her kids know she loves them with everything in her. And Solas does the same, making sure their kids (and Cam too even if he never sees him as his actual dad since he’s a teenager by the time Solas meets him) know he loves them more than anything.

[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday! What about something with Maryse being a good mom and never stopping being a mom instead of a commander, I feel like Alec has the vibes for being a mama's boy and I'm hungry for some healthy mother son relationship wotj Maryse supporting Alec and him trusting her

here we go, very protective mama Maryse who decides Alec is going to have the best future and childhood she can get him (still does not make her a good person)

-

Maryse has a split second to wake up, terror infusing through her body as she quietly breathes and pretends, she is still deeply unconscious.

“How far along is she?” A voice asks, one she recognizes as Valentine.

“Three months. She’ll be able to handle us injecting demon blood into the womb soon. If an accident happens, it will be easier to excuse away.”

Understanding dawns with a stark horror and Maryse barely manages to not give herself away as Valentine and his assistant leave.

There is only one thing that she can do now.

Run.

-

“He’s experimenting on children.” Maryse finally lets herself whisper as she grips the pommel of the soul sword until her knuckles are white. “I don’t care if he’s a fanatic. I don’t care about his crusade against the downworld or whether or not it’s valid. I care that he is abusing nephilim babes, injecting them and their mothers against their will with everything from demon blood to seelie blood and whatever else he can get his hands on.”

There is horror in the room, and she can see Imogen Herondale pale as she watches her.

 Imogen has been pushing down complaints and concerns regarding Valentine ever since Stephen and Celine joined, it was why Robert and Michael were sent to convince Stephen.

Maryse knows better though.

She’s committed no true crime, not yet. Not while she was pregnant and cracking codes for Valentine and Robert, well if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll come back. Maryse wasn’t going to risk it, however. Considering that she herself never thought there could be a good reason to abandon Valentine, she’s not sure how Robert will take her desertion.

It’s worth it though, for the babe in her belly who kicks so gently and never when Maryse is in danger.

Except earlier, when he woke her up and changed both of their lives.

—

There is a silent war going on between the clave and the Circle, the Council of the clave is growing more and more furious. Especially as some of their spies are slowly infiltrating and finding increased evidence of Valentine continuing his twisted experiments.

The clave could never deny them, not after her testimony but that didn’t mean that they advertised it.

Until now.

Maryse spends a year in hiding, keeping Alec only a year old, sequestered in her family manor and keeping them both hidden deep within the wolf woods.

It takes nearly three years for the fighting to stop, for Valentine to finally have been destroyed by a fire and Maryse is unsettled as she returns to Alicante.

Alec is stubborn for such a young child and while he is Maryse’s first and — depending on Robert — possibly only son, he’s also so incredibly sweet.

Maryse was worried at first, sure that she’d been too late. That there would be signs of demonic influence or the sheer evil of Valentine’s influence obvious in her heir.

But Alec is nothing like that.

He’s a chubby-cheeked, solemn toddler who brings her crumpled flowers and smiles softly at her in the morning. He tells Maryse that she and the sunset are both pretty, pointing sticky little fingers up at the sky with an awed, ‘pr’tty’ and then pointing to her and repeating it.

Alec is quiet and doesn’t speak very much at first and it’s only when Maryse catches him repeating words to himself in his bedroom that she realizes it’s because she doesn’t speak enough.

A part of her — sullen and ashamed — wonders if she has been accidentally avoiding him out of fear of loving and losing him.

So, she does better.

She sings to him in the father-tongue of Raziel that every nephilim learns in the soul cradle and she speaks to him in Spanish and English until his soft babbles fill the house in three different languages.

Alec is still a solemn child and still a quiet one, but he is no longer listless and Maryse aches with joy to see him so happy.

Then the war is over, and she has to take her bright, beautiful baby to Alicante’s where he is diminished by shadows of a war his birth heralded.

Maryse is given a promotion and her choice of postings, and she picks New York, because Robert is going to Idris and the last time he tried to see Alec, Alec tried to bite his fingers off.

So Maryse takes her son to New York, to build an Institute for him. To create for him a sanctuary and fortress that she will prepare Alec for and someday pass to him.

There is no calling higher than protecting and guiding her son and Maryse steps into New York, looks around and despite her bad history and disdain of downworlders, she requests a meeting with the king of the East Coast.

She’s going to have a decent working relationship with the local downworld sovereign if she wants Alec to be safe and if that means humbling herself for a warlock.

The Maryse will do that.

After all, she’ll do anything for her son. 

[damn-stark]

Chapter 7 I see dead people

Chapter 7 of Sandstorm

A/N- someone’s Targaryen realness comes out in this chapter…someone learns after a very distant great grandfather named Daemon ;)

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, ANGST, talks of pregnancy, death, blood, ALSO THERES CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW (not big, but there is)

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Every shuddered breath releases a cloud of air in the cold bitter sky that soon gets lost within the thrashing violent winds. As much as you’ve really wanted to admire the snow, getting hit by it, feeling as if it’s little needles against your flesh, makes snow irritating. And getting lost within the raging storm makes it a true nightmare

You had been helping burn the dead below, but the storm came and clouded the battlefield, it clouded your eyesight too, to the point you can’t see past Eraxis’s face. You try to fly up, above the storm, but as Eraxis tries, suddenly something crashes against her, making you get jerked back.

It’s a damn good thing you’re restrained on your damn saddle or else you would have fallen already.

Regardless, when you open your eyes and look over you see it, Viserion and that damn bastard, the Night King.

This is it, you think, this can end here. “Dracarys!” You shout.

Eraxis blows out fire, burning away the snow that fell, and clouds that had blocked your view. However, when you try to see if Viserion is burning, or if the Night King is dead, they’re not there anymore.

“Damn it!” You bellow. “Fuck!”

You nudge the handles up, and Eraxis quickly flies out of the storm, letting you see the beautiful swirling cloud above the ground, letting you see Daenerys and Drogon across from you.

She can’t hear you so you don’t even try to talk, instead you point down, hoping she’ll understand to get close to the trench so can light it when they give the sign.

Daenerys seems to understand and nods before both of your dragons fly down. Yet it’s that moment that you lose sight of each other again, you’re lost within the stupid storm again unable to see anything, not even if you’re close to the ground. You can’t even try to blow out fire because there might be living people there.

It makes you feel useless, utterly useless because you can’t even spot the Night King anymore.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck!” Your shout gets lost in the wind.

Eraxis flies lower, hoping she’ll be closer to the ground. You can hear the groans from the dead, their screeching, you can hear the battle shouts, the cries. But you can’t see a thing.Not until suddenly fire blasts out a few feet below Eraxis, causing you to quickly snap your head down, and noticing the trench spark to life.

And even if it’s just for a bit, you feel relieved as the raging flames engulf every running wight. Your adrenaline spikes at that sight, it fills you with motivation and rage.

——

*RHAENAR*

“Do you want to see?” He asks the young girl with a scar on half of her face.

The girl lowers her gaze to the orange hatchling in awe and nods slowly.

Rhaenar grins and pulls out a piece of meat to place it before his hatchlings feet. “Helios,” he speaks, making the little dragon lift its head to meet the boy's gaze. “Dracarys.”

The hatchling lowers his gaze and steps back, it tilts its head and then blows out a small puff of fire from its mouth and cooks its piece of meat before it scarves it down.

The girl's eyes widen, but not with fear, she doesn’t seem fearful anymore, she seems impressed; she giggles and claps her hands, making the boy's cheeks burn and his smile go timid.

“May I try it?” She asks with a bit of excitement.

Rhaenar sighs. “Well, Helios will only listen to me, but you can throw his meat up in the air, he’ll fly up and burn it before he eats it.”

“Okay,” the girl doesn’t fret to agree.

Rhaenar grins brighter and pulls out another piece of meat to hand it to the girl. Helios turns and watches the piece of food in her hand, and waits.

“Alright,” Rhaenar says and glances at the girl. “Ready—”

Yet before he can tell the girl to do the trick, suddenly an arm wraps around her wrist and she gets pulled off the ground. Rhaenar looks up and sees an older lady staring down at him and avoiding looking at the dragon beside him.

“Come on,” the lady urges the girl, making her drop the piece of meat she carried in her hand. She then gets taken further away from him and deeper into the crowd of women hiding within the crypts.

And now that the girl is no longer visible he looks down at his dragon and frowns as he begins to wonder what he’s done wrong to be treated so poorly. People in Sunspear, people he’s met in other parts of the world aren’t like they are here, rude and distant. Sure people are scared of dragons, but why are they scared of him too?

None of the mothers here ever let any of their kids train with him, or let them talk to him, they take them away and he’s left talking with the adults he’s with. They’re nice but they aren’t his age….

Oh how much he’d give to go back home and talk to his aunts again, Obella, Dorea and Loreza, they’d be excited about Helios, and they’d for sure talk with him.

“May I try?” A sweet and feminine voice interjects.

Rhaenar looks up and sees Lady Sansa before him. She isn’t his age, but it’s better than sitting alone.

“Sure,” he agrees and watches her sit across from him and in front of Helios.

“I’ve heard his name is Helios?” Sansa queries.

Rhaenar nods in agreement. “Yes, it means sun,” he shares.

“Well,” Sansa says with a small smile. “Don’t tell your mother but I think my favorite dragon is yours. He’s very beautiful. He looks like a fire flame.”

Rhaenar begins to smile. “I won’t, but you should see my….” He trails off as he remembers that he’s forbidden from telling anyone about you being with a child. “My mothers,” he plays it off. “At night when the moon shines on Eraxis she’s the most beautiful, my uncle Doran said it’s a reflection of my mother,” he grins and lets Helios climb on his arm.

Sansa hums and doesn’t think twice about what he was actually going to say, even if she wanted to try Rhaenar then picks the piece of meat off the ground and hands it to her.

“Okay,” he sighs and glances at his hatchling. “Helios, <focus.>” He commands the dragon in High Valyrian.

The dragon turns its head to lock his eyes on the piece of meat in Sansa’s hand.

“And,” he points at Sansa, “now. Throw it.”

Sansa flings the piece of meat up in the air and Helios follows it with his eyes, whilst Rhaenar quickly throws out, “Dracarys.”

Without hesitation Helios flaps its little orange and yellow wings to fly off Rhaenar’s shoulder and burn the piece of meat before catching it and eating it.

Sansa smiles in disbelief and watches the hatchling land beside Rhaenar. “I’m sure Arya will be jealous when I tell her.”

Rhaenar meets Sansa’s gaze and holds back his smile. Sansa notices his stifled gesture and probes. “What?”

“Arya has already done it,” Rhaenar shares. “When she showed me some of her moves she learned from the faceless men. She even held Helios.” He begins to smirk. “She thought she could beat me at naming all the dragons, but I won because she forgot about Prince Lucerys Targaryen’s dragon, Arrax.”

“Of course she’s already grabbed the dragon,” Sansa comments.

Rhaenar looks down at the ground and begins to frown. “Do you think…” he pauses and lets out a deep breath. “Do you think my mother will survive? I know she’s strong, I know Eraxis will never let anything or anyone hurt her, but she can still get hurt….and if she gets hurt…if she dies….then…” he swallows thickly. “I’ll be alone.”

Sansa lets out a small breath and tilts her head down so she can meet his gaze. “Your mother will make it. She’ll live. I may not know her well, but one thing I do know about her is that she really loves you and that she’ll never think about leaving you alone in this world.”

Rhaenar sniffles and offers her a soft smile. “That’s good to hear.”

Sansa laughs softly and nods in agreement. “That is, isn't it? Besides from the sounds of it it seems that the trench is lit, there should be less of them out there, the battle should end soon.”

Rhaenar sighs in relief and watches Sansa stand to her feet. “Come on,” she invites him. “Let’s sit over here.”

Rhaenar quickly scoops up Helios and then runs over to sit beside Sansa against a wall.

Silence follows after that, dreadful silence as everyone listens to the battle raging above, as everyone waits for it to be over. Yet that silence doesn't last long.

“At least we’re already in a crypt,” Lord Varys interjects.

Rhaenar scoffs in distaste, but the guards beside him snicker.

“If we were up there,” Tyrion suddenly adds. “We might see something everyone else is missing. Something that makes a difference.”

Lord Varys scoffs, causing Tyrion to turn around quickly and snap back.

“What? Remember the Battle of Blackwater? I brought us through the Mud Gate.”

“And got your face cut in half,” Lord Varys reminds him, making Rhaenar glance over at Tyrion as he finally knows why he has that scar across his face.

“And it made a difference,” Tyrion counters. “If I was out there right now—”

“You’d die,” Sansa cuts him off. “There’s nothing you can do,” she continues as he looks over at him.

That’s quite brutal.

Rhaenar looks down to check for Lord Tyrion’s reaction, and sees him throw his wine aside to grab another as he strides towards Lady Sansa to argue back in his own defense. “You might be surprised at the lengths I’d go to avoid joining the Army of the Dead. I can think of no organization less suited to my talents.”

“Witty remarks won’t make a difference,” Sansa says. “That’s why we’re down here, none of us can do anything. It’s the truth. It’s the most heroic thing we can do now…look the truth in the face.”

Once again her words are quite brutal, but…Rhaenar likes it. How honest she can be but still mean it in a good way.

“Maybe we should’ve stayed married,” Tyrion comments quietly.

“You were the best of them.”

They were married? Rhaenar wonders in shock.

“What a terrifying thought,” Tyrion says, making Sansa smile. But only briefly.

“It wouldn't work between us,” Sansa adds in a more serious tone.

“Why not?” He probes.

“The Dragon Queen,” she shares, making Rhaenar begin to slowly furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “Your divided loyalties would become a problem.”

“Yes,” Rhaenar hears Missandei cut in. And when he looks at her he sees her look upset. “Without the Dragon Queen, there’d be no problem at all. We’d all be dead already.” She stands up and walks off, leaving an awkward silence. Leaving Rhaenar stuck. Does he go with Missandei, or stay with Sansa?

Missandei was right, his aunt Daenerys was only trying to help, can’t they see that?

On the other hand Sansa is now family too because of you and Jon getting married.

He’s stuck and he can’t be rude to either of them, he can’t bring himself to do it, so instead he just goes off and sits somewhere else and waits alone in silence again.

——

The snow keeps falling, the storm keeps raging, but the trench provides light. It lets you see a shadow of a dragon between the thick storm clouds.

Daenerys is across from you so it’s not her and Drogon, Jon and Rhaegal are no longer waiting by the Godswood…it must be them…or the Night King and Viserion. Whoever it is, they’ll fight soon, Jon is going to need help, he’s an inexperienced flier and can't fight the Night King alone.

So without a second to waste you nudge Eraxis up, and she quickly follows orders, choosing to fly away from the field and fly up further in the storm cloud. Once within the blizzard though, it’s hard to see again, you try to rely on shadows brightened by the moon's light, but that too is obscured.

Only flying will help.

Eraxis flies further up until she’s out of the storm and in the clearing, letting you look down. Yet just as you squint your eyes a figure emerges from inside, it’s…Jon.

You sigh in relief and without a command Eraxis flies to Rhaegal. Once you’re close the first thing you do is lift yourself off your seat to study Jon to make sure he isn’t injured.

As Jon feels your stare, he quickly meets your gaze before he looks at you up and down too. Once you’re both assured by your current injured status you both offer each other an assuring nod before you both look down. And actually as you do, you catch Drogon and Daenerys meeting up with the four of you.

Now to wait for the Night King in the silence and beauty of the night sky, above the destructive swirling storm cloud.

You wait and wait until suddenly a blast of blue flames bursts below Eraxis and Rhaegal seconds before Viserion rams between the two dragons and shoves them back, causing your body to jerk back as you’re caught off guard, and making Eraxis roar out in anger.

Rheagal and Jon get lost below in the cloud, and as Eraxis proceeds to fix herself, you have to quickly tighten your hold around your handles and lean forward. You then snap your eyes up and can’t help your gasp as you catch Viserion chasing after Drogon and Daenerys, and blasting out more of that blue majestic flame at their tail.

“<Come on,>” you mutter to Eraxis.

Without a fault Eraxis shoots up and quickly catches up to the dead dragon.

“Dracarys!” You bellow out with a smug smile as you’re at its tail.

Eraxis opens her mouth and fire erupts through the dark clouds. At the feeling of the heat at the tip of its tail, Viserion closes his mouth and tucks his wing back to then tilt to the side and fall down so as to not get caught in your dragon's wrath.

Drogon then stops flying and turns, letting you meet Daenerys gaze and share a worried glance she understands, and nods at so you’re not worried.

You offer her a gentle smile before you point your eyes below. She looks down too and when you meet each other's gaze again you both know to chase after Viserion and the Night King.

Rhaegal and Jon finally fly down to the clearing, letting you share the same understanding look with Jon that you just shared with Daenerys.

Jon understands it and without a second to waste, Rhaegal and Jon shoot down. Your lips pull to a smirk at the sight of your…husband flying down and quickly follow him too. Yet nevertheless Eraxis and you get lost again in the thickness of the blizzard. The sight of Jon and Rhaegal are no longer visible, and the sound of flapping wings is drowned out by the sound of the violent and icy wind.

Out of fear you’d hit Rhaegal and Jon you don’t let Eraxis throw out fire to light the way, so instead you navigate blindly basically and keep flying down. You close your eyes and try to focus more on the sounds to try and hear fighting, or a nearby dragon.

Albeit for the first few minutes all you hear is the howling of the wind hitting your ears.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter and fix your grip on your handles.

Eraxis keeps flying to try and spot them, but then suddenly screeches out. You snap your eyes open and squint your gaze to look around. And just as expected, you spot two dragons fighting below, yet you can’t make out who’s who from above.

Eraxis nevertheless tucks her wings back and flies down, you continue watching the battle and carefully study the dragons as they snap at each other to try and rip each other apart in any way they can. As you get closer you finally spot the difference, Viserion has holes in his wings and an almost icy complexion. So before he or the Night King can spot you, Eraxis leans down further to quicken her pace.

Once Eraxis is close, and just as Rhaegal rips out Viserions jaw, Eraxis slightly lifts her body up to slam her claws in Viserion and shove him down.

The Night King is caught off guard so he loses his grip, and you watch him hurdle down to the ground….

Fuck.

Fuck!

You pant and keep your eyes on him until he’s lost in the clouds. When you look up to check on Jon and Rhaegal, all you see is Drogon and Daenerys flying down after the Night King, there’s just no Jon—

Rhaegal must’ve gotten hurt.

Jon won’t be able to hold on if Rhaegal is losing control.

“I’m coming,” you murmur and nudge Eraxis down.

Yet just as you try to fly down, Viserions torn mouth suddenly clamps onto Eraxis neck, causing you to groan as your body is slammed to the side harshly.

Luckily the restraints hold you in place so you don’t fall. And what’s even luckier is that Eraxis is somewhat okay, she quickly retaliates by digging her claws in his belly and swinging down, making him screech out in pain.

Eraxis then pushes back and shoots fire at him, Viserion avoids the flame and dives down to try and attack Eraxis from below, but your dragon is quick and twists her body around, hitting the dead dragon in the face with her tail.

“<Come on girl,>” you encourage your dragon and watch as she turns to face Viserion again. This time as he tries to lunge at her you unsheath your double bladed spear from behind you to try and hurl it in Viserions mouth.

However, just as Eraxis and Viserion slam into one another and grip onto each other by the claws, they begin dancing through the sky violently. You try to continue aiming at his eye, even as they keep thrashing around, but then, from the corner of your eye you spot an opening and quickly pull your handles to the right instead.

Eraxis then sees what you do and bites down on Viserion’s wing and pulls back hard, managing to rip his wing partially off his body.

Viserion cries out, and you grin in disbelief. However, he still doesn’t let go of Eraxis, he holds onto her, digging his claws in her legs and pulling her down with him, making you thrash around. Eraxis tries to bite at him but he pulls back and shoots out his blue flames.

You quickly duck from the flames trajectory and barely miss getting hit. Eraxis knows that and gets more pissed off at the same time you do, so out of a fit of rage, as they’re both hurdling down at a rapid speed, she lunges at his neck.

Viserion finally lets go of her, but she bites down harder and keeps pulling him down. When you glance down you’re now a few feet away from crashing in the castle.

“Eraxis!” You yell out to try and get her to fly up.

Alas, just as she’s letting go, he bites on her shoulder. He wants to tear off her wing too.

You look down again and see you’re closer to the castle, it’s still quite a fall, but if you don’t help get rid of him he’ll only cause destruction. Besides, Eraxis is good, she’ll catch you. Right?

Fuck hopefully….

You let out a shaky breath and clench your hands around your spear before you pull at the strap on your left leg.

That one comes off quickly, but when you switch to the other side and pull, the buckle gets stuck.

“DAMN IT!” You yell and yank again, but it doesn’t budge. “FUCK!” Without another choice you use your spear to cut it off.

When you do the restraint is released but you also manage to cut your leg. “Agh! Fuck!” You cry out.

Yet there’s no time to wallow, even with the sharp pain you stand off your saddle. You don’t glance down anymore and swing your other leg off the saddle, you clench your jaw into a grimace and narrow your gaze on Viserion as he keeps digging his teeth in Eraxis’s shouder, as they both keep twirling down to the castle.

You let out a deep breath and grab onto one her spikes along her neck as you begin to crawl up her neck to reach her head. Your wounded leg keeps slipping off her side, but you hold on tighter and just quicken your pace until you reach the top of her head.

The breeze is quick, and the snow is sharp along your skin, barely letting you see or move. The fall from the looks of it isn’t far anymore, but you’d still break your bones or die—but he’d only damage the castle and kill more people, or even kill Eraxis. You have to do this….

You let out a deep shaky breath, bend your knees a bit before you let go of one of her spikes and break into a sprint down her head. When you reach her forehead you finally jump down.

As gravity rapidly pulls you down towards Viserion, you hastily grab your spear with both hands and throw your arms up. Just as you’re falling down to the dragon you let out a mighty cry before you swing down to stab his icy flesh.

Viserion screech’s out in protest and begins to squirm. You begin to slide the spear down his neck as you fall, until suddenly Viserion explodes into a thousands of ice shards, making you lose your grip and finally hurdle down towards the stone castle.

However, Eraxis spots you right away and flies to you, making you crash your side on her body and roll down. Luckily before you can slip off her body you manage to grip onto one of her spikes and stop. Yet since she’s falling down fast and can’t take flight right away, she crashes down in the castle hard, making you lose your grip.

This time a pile of dead bodies breaks your fall. But that’s where the problem starts, the wights spot you, hear you groan in pain, and come sprinting at you. Without a different choice you snap your eyes around and notice your spear a few feet away. You try to stand to go get it but your leg shoots out sharp throbbing pains, making you stumble back to your hands and knees, and leaving you to crawl rapidly towards your weapon as the dead continue to chase after you.

They get closer and closer as you approach your weapon. And just as you slap your hand on it and wrap your fingers around the spear, a hand wraps around your ankle and begins to pull you back. You yelp, and then nails dig in your flesh, making you cry out louder.

You swing back to try and hit them with your spear, but another wight throws itself on you, making you lose your spear and feel its stench on your neck and its bones on your back. It actually tries to stab you, but the armor you wear stops its attempts.

“Back off!” You bellow and thrash your body around. Yet one wight keeps pulling, and the one above you paralyzes you. As you peek up you see it lift its blade again, aiming at your neck.

Alas, just as it’s about to stab you, suddenly the wight that has you by your ankles lets go, and the one above you falls limb on you before it gets thrown off. You quickly flip around to see who your savior was, and for a second, as the flames behind their figure drowns them out, as they blind your eyesight, for a second you picture your father; his eyes, his tall figure. For a moment in time you imagine your father.

That is until they crouch down and offer you their hand, that’s when you finally recognize who stands above you, Jaime Lannister.

“Quickly,” he breaks you from your stupor. “Take my hand.”

You glance at his hand in shock, and having no other choice you take his hand and let him help you up. Yet you quickly regret putting weight on your leg because you instantly feel the pain from your wound intensify.

“Here,” he says and hands you your spear. “Let’s go.”

He lets go of you and begins to lead the way to the stairs so you can follow, however as you try to run the pain forbids you.

“I can’t run,” you mutter and shake your head. “My leg,” you groan.

Jaime stops and looks back at you before glancing at your leg and seeing the wound that’s visible through the gape in your pants.

“Eraxis, I need to get to her.” You mutter and quickly look around, seeing her struggling to get off her feet as the dead begin to mount her. “No,” you gasp and run to the hole that was on the wall so you can climb down the pile of dead wights to reach her below. But Jaime then runs backs to you and grabs you by your arm to begin pulling you away.

“No,” you argue. “I need to help her.”

“Only you’ll die before you can even reach her,” he argues and begins to pull you down the wooden staircase.

You snap your head back and see her barely managing to gain some momentum off the ground with each weak flap. Some dead cling onto her, desperate to try and get a good hit, but she shakes them off and flies higher up, letting you comfort yourself with the thought that now at least she won’t get injured further, or die, she can fly off and join you later. She’ll be okay.

Nevertheless, now that you’re on the ground you’re only welcomed with the sight of more dead everywhere, both wights and people. There’s even a corpse of a giant, and Lady Mormont dead beside it. As far as wights there’s a few left fighting the living, still…a few is one too many.

“Stay here,” Jaime commands you as puts you behind Lady Brienne and her squire.

You shake your head and snap back, “I can fight. I may not be on my dragon, but I can fight.” Without waiting for anyone to argue back you limp forward to stand in between him and Lady Brienne.

In that moment however, just as you fix your stance and get ready to welcome any wight that comes your way, suddenly dead bodies everywhere begin to rise up, all of them, every single one of them displaying those same glowing icy blue eyes, and making chills crawl all over your body.

“Fuck,” you mutter and grip onto your spear.

They don’t attack right away, they slowly turn as if they’re grasping their surroundings. Once they spot all the living then they run and lunge, making you act fast and counter each one of their moves, making you kill each and every one that comes your way.

This time there are no breaks, or waiting up in the sky. Down here every single second was a matter of life or death. It makes you thankful for all those hours that you spent training.

——

*RHAENAR*

“Shh. Shh.”

Besides the smell of dirt, now a different stench infiltrated the crypts, something putrid…

Death.

Now rather than whisperings filling the space, pained cries and screeches echoed around, both from the dead and those dying.

Two of Rhaenar’s personal guards had died, one trying to protect some woman, and the other trying to protect him. He wanted to fight, get rid of the wights that were around the room searching for bodies to kill, but the other two guards forced him to hide behind a statue. So as of now all he could do was stay still and quiet in hopes none of the dead would try and kill him too. He had to wait even if he heard people dying.

He closes his eyes and tries to cover his ears so it can go by faster by, so he couldn’t hear the fearful shrieks. But then in that moment a sharp cry rings out and he can’t stand just sitting, so he puts his dragon on his shoulder and springs into action, even if his guards keep telling him otherwise.

There are many bodies, many people hiding behind statues of their own, there are many dead roaming and it scares him; seeing their skulls, their moving skeletons, terrifies him to his very core, makes him want to freeze and search for you, but he ignores it all, all of it and follows the sound of the cries.

Once he reaches where it comes from he sees the woman from before, the one who had pulled the girl away as they tried to just be friends. The lady is being dragged by a wight, so without hesitation Rhaenar lifts his spear and stabs the wight through the skull, letting the woman live. Another wight proceeds to come running behind him, he can hear the footsteps against the stone ground, so without even saying a thing the dragon flaps its yellow and orange wings to hover by Rhaenar, whilst he spun around swiftly and swung on the wight. The dragon then blows out its little puff of fire and manages to burn the wight enough to kill it.

“Hide,” Rhaenar tells the lady as he faces the wights that came after him.

The lady drags herself up and nods rapidly before she runs off, leaving him and his guards that finally caught up with him to fight as hard as they could.

——

They won’t stop coming, there are more and more dead, they swarm everyone who is left fighting, they swarm you…try to anyway. They keep you busy, focused on only them, on your life and the life you carry within you.

Yet the moment you catch Jon across the yard all your attention is instantly just driven to his blood covered face, the fear and panic in his dark eyes. Ser Jaime had told you to stay behind him and Lady Brienne, but if Jon isn’t on Rheagal, if he’s here it means he’s going to try and go to Bran, and there’s so many dead between Jon and the Godswood. You just got married, you won’t lose him too.

So quickly you depart from the group you were fighting beside and slide under flinging arms of the dead to run after Jon.

Nevertheless, the dead keep getting in your way, those who aren’t busy trying to kill the other living try to come after you, and so as to not fall behind you just swerve past them, or kill one or two. The sight of Jon is lost in the raging crowd, but you…sort of know your way around, or at least you remember the map, so you try to enter a hall to cut the other yards.

Albeit, the moment you look around the corner you see it swarmed by wights so you step back out and cut through the yards anyway. That’s when suddenly one wight mostly made of bones comes from your side. It tries to tackle you down, but you shove your spear in its mouth and run forward to slam it into another one.

“Fucker,” you grimace and pull out your blade to continue running forward, continue to swerve and duck past and under swinging arms and blades. You begin to get close to the Godswood, but just as you walk past an archway to enter the last courtyard, you suddenly bump into a body.

Thinking it’s another wight you get ready to stab it without looking up at its decaying face, but then it grabs you by your arms and utters your name, so you look up and see Jon.

“Jon,” you sigh in relief.

He studies you quickly making sure you aren’t wounded, and you do the same.

The good thing is that all either of you see is dirt and dark blood from the dead.

“Come on. Bran,” he breathes out and grabs your hand to begin pulling you towards the Godswood, making you fight through your pain.

And while he leads ahead you want to keep holding onto him, you want to feel secured under his hold, but you have to quickly pull your hand away as you see an entire crowd of dead begin to fall down a stone wall. Jon and you try to avoid fighting them, but then another crowd comes running out of the shadows of a nearby archway around the yard. They all see Jon and you and don’t fret to charge directly, making Jon grab you by your hand again to turn you around and go a different way. However more dead now come out the way you had just come from.

Was this it? Get ripped apart by all these dead corpses? Only paces away from the enemy that can end this battle with one perfect hit?

At least you’re with Jon though, hand in hand, side by side. Many people don’t get to say they died beside the person they loved, you would. At least that’s an upside to this hell.

Of course you didn’t want to die, not yet, not before you can know your son is safe, not before maybe the baby can be born and have a chance to live. Maybe not before you’ve won the other war. But no matter how hard you try to fight off all the wights, there are too many of them and they surround you quickly leaving no chance to escape.

“Jon!” You yell over all the noise.

Said man looks over at you and waits.

“I love you,” you mutter through tears.

Jon’s eyes water and he grabs your hand again to press a kiss on your knuckles even as the dead keep trying to reach you up the hill of corpses you were now on.

“I love you,” he mutters back. “Thank you for the silence in the loud noise that has been my life.”

You smile through the tears and even if these might be your last moments, you glance at the approaching crowd of wights. “We fight?” You ask in a quivering voice and meet Jon’s gaze again since he had never stopped looking at you; if he was going to die, he would die looking at you, the woman he loved, that’d be the last thing he’d see. Yet when you say those words, he can’t help but be proud and feel encouraged to at least go out fighting, so without he nods in agreement and backs up your question.

“We fight.”

You let go once more, you face the relentless crowd and raise your spear again, whilst Jon stabs his sword into a wights skull. You continue fighting to try and still get to the Godswood.

Yet just as you ram your blade in a wights face, suddenly fire blasts down on a patch of wights before it swirls around Jon and you, killing all of the wights that had been trying to get you both.

At the feeling and the sight of the raging flames Jon tries to shield you, but you quickly look up at where the flames come from and see there in the night sky Eraxis. You beam at her, and Jon looks up at her disbelief before he yells out at you, “Bran!”

You glance down at him and nod before you both run down the piles of bodies and over dry patches of land that aren’t in flames. Eraxis hides back in the clouds, but you know she doesn’t wander far. Because just as you reach the Godswood and see its infiltrated wights, flames blast down again, burning away every single corpse, even those out of ice and with long white hair. She burns away every single tree that surrounds the red leaf Weirwood tree, leaving only a path that leads directly to the Night King and Bran, and letting Jon and you walk past before she completely surrounds the weirwood tree and all of you with a ring of fire.

The Night King's eyes then immediately set on Jon, and Jon glares at the monster as he pants.

Since there’s no one left to protect it, since there’s only fire around it, the Night King unsheathes its ice sword from behind him and faces Jon and you completely to stand its ground alone. Jon on the other hand secures his other hand around his sword handle before he begins to stride towards the Night King.

You begin to stride to it too, but then just behind the tree comes out a smaller corpse, or so it seems so, its face is covered by a hood, and its body is hidden behind a baggy cloak. It escaped Eraxis' wrath somehow.

It’s going to try and kill Bran.

So as Jon clashes his blade against the Night Kings you change your course and charge at the wight.

It spots you right away it though, but rather than running at you, it quickly raises its hand the closer you get and yanks it’s hood off, showing off a face of a wight, but a head full of brown hair pulled back to a small half ponytail that makes you falter and blink to watch in disbelief as you slow down.

Its eyes aren’t glowing blue or caved in, besides wights don’t pull off their hoods…this isn’t a corpse….and going by the hairstyle and hair color, and by the fact that they had hid so well, this can only be one person, Arya Stark.

Fucking impressive….

Regardless, you can’t precisely stop and come up with a plan together now that you see her too, so instead you look up at Eraxis as she watches whilst she flies around, and assure her that it’s okay with your look alone so she won’t burn Arya disguised as a wight. You then proceed to get closer to Arya before you both begin to slowly and quietly approach the Night King as Jon keeps fighting against it, and keeps its back facing Arya and you.

You get a few feet closer and then stop to meet Arya’s gaze while metal and ice keep clashing, she points to your spear with her eyes and then points at the Night King’s back before she drifts under the shadows that aren’t touched by fire light.

Jon and the Night King keep dancing around in the ring of fire as they clash their swords together, and it’s back keeps facing you. So as to not let this moment go to waste you lift your arm and then hurl your spear at its back.

Albeit just before it can hit its back, the Night King snaps its head back and catches sight of your spear before he maneuvers to the side, letting the spear now head to Jon.

“Jon!” You cry out.

Said man catches sight and barely manages to duck to avoid being hit.

The Night King then tries to lunge at you since he sees you’re defenseless, but then out of the shadows, from behind him Arya runs out and pushes herself off her feet to swing down. However, it then quickly snaps around stiffly and catches her by her throat.

Jon gets angrier at the sight and charges at it, whilst you begin to charge at it too, seeing Arya fling her blade over at you as it keeps her off her feet and gripped by her throat.

You catch the blade, and it snaps its icy blue eyes to you, letting Arya pull out her Valyrian blade she had hidden. It then snaps its eyes behind him as Jon raises his sword over its head, and lets go of Arya in hopes to swing his blade to slice all three of you.

But just before it can even move, Arya stabs her Valyrian blade in his chest, you stab your dragonglass dagger in its side, and Jon swings his blade down on his neck. All of you hit it simultaneously and the Night King erupts in thousands shards of ice, ending the battle once and for all….

Now there’s no sound of groans, grunts, screeches or running footsteps. There’s no more dead trying to run at you, there’s only dead corpses around the trees. There’s only silence and sorrowful peace.

It’s over. Now and always. The long night comes to an end, and the sun begins to break through the horizon, bringing relief and hope in you and everyone who lives.

Once the disbelief is somewhat surpassed, you and Jon look at one another after he makes sure his brother is okay, and instantly drop your weapons to close the gap with an embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asks between heavy pants.

You grip onto him and answer. “My leg,” you mention. “I hurt it, but it’s nothing too significant. You?”

Jon nods and then pulls back to instead cups your grime covered face and looks at you with concern. “The baby?” He asks, not caring if his siblings heard now.

You swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t know,” you whisper, “I think the baby is fine.”

Jon swallows thickly and sees your worry so he tries to assure you now instead. “We’ll talk with the maester.”

You nod and then let your eyes linger on for a second to admire that he’s alive, that he isn’t another cold corpse. You relish in his touch before you press your forehead against him.

Jon presses a kiss on your lips as he caresses your cheek, and leans into your touch as you press your hands against his cheek.

“Rhaenar,” you whisper in quivering tone and pull away. “I'm going to check on Rhaenar.”

Jon nods. “Let me just grab Bran,” he says, “and I’ll catch up to check on Sansa as well.”

You nod in agreement and before you leave you meet Arya’s gaze and share a small passing smile before you run off, even through the pounding pain. You maneuver past dead bodies of all those you lost in battle, past debris, and past living people all grasping that it’s over.

Once you’re close to the crypts you finally slow down as you notice people coming out, Tyrion, Lord Varys, Missandei, yet Rhaenar is not behind them.

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, a force begins to clench around it, and the world begins to dim even if the sun rises. Sansa then comes out too, and thankfully, behind her is your son, covered in blood and grime, but he’s alive….he’s alive.

Relief washes over you instantly, and even if tears rush out of your eyes you’re filled with glee. “Rhaenar!” You call out.

Said boy instantly finds your voice and right away his shoulders fall, and his lips pull to a wobbly smile as he’s filled with relief.

“Mama!” He calls out before he quickly maneuvers past people to meet you halfway in an embrace. “Mama,” he cries once you have your arms around him, making his dragon hover beside him.

“My sweet boy,” you whisper and squeeze him tighter. “My little Sunspot.” You pull back only to grab his face and begin pressing kisses on his dirty forehead.

He scoffs softly, but he doesn’t shy away even if people around you see.

Once you completely step back you he quickly interjects with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nod and offer him a sweet smile. “I’m just hurt but I’ll live. You? You seem okay, are you?”

The boy begins to smile again and nods eagerly. “I’m fine. Mama you should’ve seen me, wights began to come out of graves and I fought some of them. Whom, swoosh!” He swings his arm, pretending to be holding his weapon. “One even tried to grab at my leg but I quickly flipped in the air and stabbed my spear in its SKULL! Just like how my uncle Oberyn taught me.”

You grin brightly and whisper, “I wish I could’ve seen, but I am proud.”

Rhaenar grins shyly, and in that moment there’s a soft dragon call from the sky. You look up and see Eraxis trying her best to fly past the castle walls.

“She’s hurt,” Rhaenar points out.

You grab him by his hand and begin to pull him after your dragon. “Yes,” you say, “Viserion hurt her, but she’ll recover with time.”

“Good,” he whispers.

“Now come,” you urge him, “she must’ve found Daenerys and Drogon.” You quicken your pace as best as you can, and once you make it out of the broken gate you gasp as you see the body littered battlefield. There’s thousands of people, all of them brave warriors.

The sight of a dark shadow then makes you lift your gaze, and you see Drogon fly by to fly away with Eraxis. Yet in the middle of the field of bodies is Daenerys in her dirty white coat, heading to the castle with a grief stricken look.

She sees Rhaenar and you and instantly her chest falls, her eyes glisten brighter, and the corner of her lips tug to a relieved smile.

“Aunt Dany!” Rhaenar yells out and pulls away from you to run over to her.

Quickly once he reaches her, he envelopes her in an embrace. She gets surprised for a moment, but once she's assured by his embrace she returns his hug and presses her cheek against the top of his head.

When you finally reach them they both let go of each other, letting you and Daenerys embrace each other now.

“It’s over,” you whisper to her. “It’s finally over.”

Daenerys holds onto you tighter and closes her eyes out of relief.

Feeling left out and happy that his family is alive, Rhaenar joins in the embrace and pulls you in a group hug.

“The war isn’t over,” Daenerys interjects quietly. “Not the real war.”

.

.

.

.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject

[meet-me-in-the-pouringrain]

@lonelychicagos posted a prompt talking about an anonymous website that eventually led to the Hotchniss reunion and I took it and RAN. Here is what I hope to be part 1 of a multichapter fic. I also despise tumblr formatting nd i’m on mobile so apologies.

Here is the original prompt!

The Phoenix and the Rocket

She doesn’t know why she does it. She chalks it up to Penelope’s unwavering, relentless, quite frankly annoying efforts to get her to make friends. Or maybe it was Dave’s prodding comments about her home life. Probably Tara and JJ’s mischievous scheming during BAU drinks or Luke’s teasing. Could have been becuse of Reid’s statistics and prattling about her age and how ‘lonely people are more likely to experience depression’. Bastard. She gave him more paperwork than anyone else. Perhaps it was the jealousy that flairs in her chest whenever she watches Matt interact with his kids or when her phone pings when Derek sends a picture into their group chat of Hank standing for the first time.

Although, if asked, she’ll say it’s the wine.

Her therapist was the one who brought up the forum in the first place. “It’s a great way to meet with people, Emily” The woman told her softly towards the end of their first session. “People who have unimaginable trauma, like yourself.”

So that was how Emily Prentiss found herself on a Saturday night making an account to sign into the website ‘TraumaBuddies’. The name alone left a vile taste in her mouth, which she squished down with another gulp of red wine. It was a website where strangers can willingly dump on a public forum, opening themselves up to a conversation. Therapists have called it revolutionary ; No one helps the traumatised like the traumatised

She spends hours combing through different stories of the horrible trauma people have endured. One or twice, she comes across familiar stories that she’s almost certain we’re victims of cases her team (both past and present solved.) Her heart tugs when the username ‘KatieJacobs235’ pops up. Emily reaches out to her personally, messaging the girl who would be no doubt in her 20’s by now, more nausea swirled in her stomach at the passage of time, and types a message she hopes would be comforting.

It was the next post that made her stop scrolling entirely. The horrors the user ‘RockyRacoon’ (The Beatles song made her snort) went through was unbelievable. If Emily hadn’t seen or even been through the shit she had , she would call bs and move on.

A serial killer who got his wife, his son been the target of another, a bomb and losing another woman he loved when she died alongside countless of other trauma dumps in one go. That was incredible and inspiring to live through.

She blames the wine for the fact she didn’t draw up the similarities sooner as she types a message out.

PhoenixPren : You are inspiring. Take it from someone who’s seen a lot and been through a lot. Everything you have been through has made you stronger, and I - for one- am proud of the fact you’re still around. May I ask some questions?

And she hits send.

~~~~

Getting a ping on his laptop at 1am on a Saturday night from that goddam website his 16 year old son signed him up on was the last thing Aaron Hotchner expected. He wasn’t even the one who wrote it, Jack did it for him, and as such never actually expected anything to come of it.

“Dad, It’ll be good” Jack had said. “You can talk about everything anonymously. It might be helpful to write it all down.”

He hadn’t though, content in leaving the one post up there. Jack had said everything he would have said, anyway.

It had been hard for both of them. Being the target of serial killer would damage people well enough but the target of a second one was downright ludicrous.

When they emerged from Witsec, their old names mixing with their new - Frank and Max - and their old life threatening their new one, Jack had fell back into routine immediately. His first contact was his aunt, then his old friends. It was good, Aaron thought, that he was able to settle in. The nightmares still persisted and there were demons around every corner but Jack took his mothers genes and held his head high, going along with the flow.

Aaron couldn’t. He couldn’t return back to that life - to them, the bau, to the woman who packed up her life from another continent solely to save his ass and because he had asked her to, to Aaron. He briefly entertained the idea of picking up the phone, wondering deeply if she experienced the same identity crisis he put himself through, after he forced her into a similar situation.

He didn’t though, and he stayed hidden like a coward.

No one had opened up dialogue on the website, the ex-agent chalked it up to intimidation, until now, 3 months after it was posted. More intrigued and bored than anything, Jack was out for the night with friends, Hotch clicked the notification. His ever present frown deepened at the username, his brain fruitlessly searched for what had sparked recognition.

When nothing ultimately came up, Aaron sighed. He read over the thoughtful message multiple times, debating on a response. Jack’s words echoed in his brain. It’ll be good.

What has he got to lose?

PhoenixPren : May I ask some Questions?

RockyRacoon : Thank you for your kind words. What would you like to know?

~~~~

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

[discordiansamba]

Still working on the Voltron/Pacific Rim Crossover, but i decided I’m keeping the different alien species

so the Galra lost their planet (and king and queen) to the kaiju, Altea barely kept their planet and they’re working to help other planets.

they find earth and Altea geeks out because Earth has the same plan as they did with the jaegars (though Altea only has Voltron and finding five people compatible with each other and the lions is more difficult than they expected), and are quick to help fix the brain frying problem.

there are differences in how each species can drift, but solo piloting is a bad idea for anyone regardless of species

alteans can drift with anyone with no consequences, but there are exceptions (Coran can’t, much to his frustration, he managed exactly once with Alfor but can’t repeat the process) and Altea isn’t going to risk their princess, no matter how much she wants to fight.

humans need to be drift compatable, but can recover from losing a partner. they are a bit more prone to chasing rabits compared to the other species

galra are only drift compatible with one partner, and losing that partner leaves them unable to drift with anyone else. those that lose their partner become part of the blades, a unit of Galra who are on earth to help monitor the earth’s rift and fly small ships to support the jaegars in combat. Krolia loses her husband and keith’s father and is the only galra who is stubbornly retesting to see if she can become drift compatible with her son if something happens to Shiro. (there are also concerns about Keith, which makes his ability to connect with others not Shiro a surprise)

the exception to both Galran and Altean is Lotor, but unfortunately, it’s not a good thing. he’s had multiple partners but they all break it off if they don’t get killed. his last partner before story was Romelle (here a cousin to Allura), who when kind describes him as all take and no give in the drift. when ticked off she’ll call him a royal brat, which everyone finds a bit rich given her new partner is her younger brother who is a brat to everyone that isn’t her. (her partner before Lotor was her older brother, but he went mia after a bad battle ripped their jaegaer in two)

Lotor takes his leave in roughly end of the begning start of the middle of the story, giving up on earth and doing something with the druids he says will stop the kaiju for good. He takes his jaegar and a few other hybrid Galra with him. unsurprisingly this ticks off everyone including the blades who remain on earth.

it later turns out he and the druids were making robeasts, and Romelle and her little brother both get angry when they realize Lotor used their mia older brother to make one, while lotor fails to read the room and explains the use of kaiju sized warriors is better than jaegars and voltron, and seriously damages the galra’s relationship with other races

still working on exactly what happens when, but our paladins will be sealing the rift on earth and taking voltron to help other planets under attack by Kaiju (and Lotor’s Robeasts who aren’t helping matters) and title is still tbd

[blades-fan]

Watched Percy Jackson on Disney Plus. I'm new to the series so I don't know anything about it. Here are some thoughts I had about it.

Do not give me spoilers.

Sally said that just because someone looks like a hero doesn’t mean they are and just because someone looks like a monster doesn’t mean they are while looking at a statue of Medusa.I found out that Medusa was cursed (turned into the snake monster) by Athena for “allowing” herself to be raped.

Also, if you know anything about Greek Mythology the gods do some horrible things. Hades kidnaps Persephone and tricks her into eating fruit so she’ll be forced to stay with her and everyone I know says he’s the nicest or one of the nicest gods.

Percy getting expelled for ‘retaliating’ is so true to real life. Teachers and principles only see you stand up to bullies they never see the bullies bullying you.

I don’t like Sally. She should’ve told her son the truth years ago. I also don’t like the guy Sally is dating. I don’t know why she stays with him. I also can't remember his name.

The show says monsters are hidden from the human world by the mist, but Sally is able to see the Minotaur. And she knew about Mrs. Dobbs. I’m suspicious about that.

Percy’s only friend is a goat that’s twice his age. Is there a reason Grover who is 24 looks like a 12 year old? Do satrys age slower than human and demigod children?

Did Dionysius get kicked from Mt. Olympus or something? Why is he working as a camp counselor he clearly seems to hate it there and he has no interest in the children.

So there’s 12 cabins. 1 cabin for each of the god or goddesses children. Hermes’s cabin is for both his kids and unclaimed children. I have several thoughts on this. 1 I’m curious as to how people know for fact that someone is a demigod if their parent doesn’t claim them. Couldn’t they be half something else? 2 Percy is sleeping in the floor of the cabin. They can’t even bring a bunk bed in for him to sleep on. 3 As we see later on Poseidon’s cabin is completely empty because Poseidon is not allowed to have demigod children anymore so why didn’t they move the unclaimed children to his cabin?

So the gods don't have to claim their children ok. Please imagine one of the goddesses giving birth then claiming the child isn't hers.

Artemis: Not my kid.

Zeus: I just saw you give birth to him.

Artemis: Oh really? Do you want to talk about all of your illegitimate kids then?

Zeus: .....

Artemis: That's what I thought.

Of course the kid from Hermès the messenger god is the one to tell Percy how camp works and everything.

The 3 top gods made pact to not have anymore mortal children. And of course Zeus breaks this when he creates Thalia. Of course it would be Zeus to break this pact. Also I’m betting the reason Poseidon couldn’t claim Percy or be a father to him was because he was breaking the pact as well and he didn’t want Percy to get killed, but since the lightning bolt is gone he needs Percy to prove his innocence.

Clarisse says that if she maims Percy she’ll lose dessert privileges this camp is way too tame with bullies. And since Clarisse is so certain she won’t be punished any further that implies a camper maimed or killed another camper.

So Hades took Sally huh? Well Hades has been known to kidnap women (cough Persephone cough) Did he do this out of the goodness of his heart? To spite his brothers? To gain another lover? Who knows.

After the fountain incident and the bathroom incident everyone including Percy is shocked to discover that his dad is Poseidon.

[iinkonde]

Sedilaka

Translations • Makube chosi, makudede ubumnyama kuvele ukukhanya. = Every said on the shrine, let it manifest into everything we say and ask for. May Light prevail and darkness be abolished.

Camagu = Ancestral greetings equivalent to amen

Amathongo = Ancestors

Endumbeni = Rondavel house for the ancestors

Words • 2113

Taglist • @ziayamikaelson @sweetsummerhaze @nzia-writes @greek-freak101 @iinkonde

0.01

Trudging across the forest in attempt to get to the group of tiny figures playing around a small fire. Nearing the children, they start to sidle away or melt into the air. Only one figure remains, a child facing the fire .Slowling circling around the child, who continues to stare on at the bristling fire. Hands busy grinding something onto a big rock near their feet. Peering under the hood it’s eyes are blank,a far away look etched onto their features; features that are familiar… it’s the face… those eye-

Ramonda woke up with a startle. Laboured breathing as she gripped the bed sheets to level herself in reality.

Filled with adrenaline she makes work of getting out of her king size bed. Stumbling to the bathroom, her fingers find the switch as soon as she enters the room. The light is blinding but she doesn’t care.

Quickly making her way to the sink, flicking the tap open she falls over the basin immediately splashing the cold water on her face.

Absentmindedly reaching for a towel, dragging it down painfully slow. Wanting to delay having to look up into the big mirror in front of her. Afraid she’ll be transported back into the dream, transported back to those eyes. Ones she hadn’t seen in over two decades.

Raising her eyes to the mirror, she takes note of the bags under her eyes. The gray in her eyebrows. Exhaustion written all over her face. Her silk headwrap probably well on its way out of the palace now. Those things never seem to stay wrapped around her head. Her frizzy braids starring back at her. Pointing out of their original place.

She lets out a huff and shuffles out of the en-suite. Grabbing the gown laying on the ottoman.

Patting her bed for her scarf right on the edge of the bed the purple fabric lay. Snatching it she hastily wrapped it around her head, didn’t matter the presentation.

“Griot, the door.” Ramonda spoke to the AI

The door clicked open, she straightened her posture and stepped out. A few royal guards patrolling the hallway stopped to greet her. Yoliswa in particular quickly walked to her side.

“Queen Mother, are you in need of assistance?.” She hurried out.

“Take me to Ramatla. Alert the General tell her we have a long journey ahead” The Queen responded in a hushed tone.

She didn’t want for this to reach the ears of Shuri or anybody else before she understands what exactly this is, whatever these dream that’ve plagued her for a few weeks now mean

This one though, it left chills along her spine. The hairs on her neck were left sticking out she was nervous. Anxious for what awaits her.

Yoliswa quickly presses one kimoyo bead sending a signal to Okoye.

Ramonda turned and made her way to the exit of the palace. Yoliswa made a quick sign for the rest of the gaurds to stay behind.

"My Queen, are we walking there?"

Ramonda just turned and looked her in the eyes. That was a answer enough. Yoliswa nods at that and takes strides alongside her majesty.

¥

Venturing out at midnight was a repeating occurrence for the queen. For the year and half the palace has felt suffocating for her. She felt like the walls would close in on her. It felt so different and cold being here.

The two people she came into this kingdom for were both gone. She hadn’t had enough time to process the loss of her husband and she was losing her son a few years later too.

And she so quickly had to be strong for her daughter and her nation.

She doesn’t remember having a moment to just settle in her loss and feel the magnitude of the pain that she felt. The gaping hole in her heart too much to bear. So she’d explore Wakanda and all she had to offer all over again.

Just to keep her mind occupied because she was sure if she left it slip, she’d fall and never get back up.

The second set of footsteps behind her broke her out of her reverie. Okoye had joined them as soon as she received the message. Ramonda could sense the perplexity in the way the walk.

She was grateful both of them had followed her without question. Ramonda wasn’t sure she even had the answer. All she knew was she had to relay this to Ramatla. Hoping he could talk with the answer, beg them for clarity if need be.

Because for the life of her, Ramonda couldn’t wrap what she saw around her head. So many scenarios ran rampant in her head and none of them made much sense.

The journey to the seer didn’t take long. In the short distance they could see a figure by the rondavel.

Yoliswa quickly stepped in front of her to open the gate for them to enter. Okoye silently closed the gate behind her.

“Daughter of Lumumba, we were awaiting your arrival”. Ramatla stepped into the light.

Ramonda’s body went rigid for a minute. Blood drained from her head. This changed things. If they were waiting for her it means this was bound to happen. It was no coincidence.

All the of them work to remove their shoes. You can’t enter the ancestral house with shoes on.

Ramatla moves aside to let them enter eNdumbeni. He watched Ramonda sit near the mirror. Shaking his head chuckling as he noticed the anomaly of her action.

“Kawutsho Mntwan’ezinyanya uboneni?” Slight humour in his voice.

The two Dora’s couldn’t be more confused. They truly didn’t know what to make of this. Although there was a whimsical attitude in the way the great seer spoke to them, the atmosphere was tense. Seriousness filled the air.

As soon as those words left Ramatla’s mouth, Ramonda was transported back to her dream. And all the other visions she’d seen were all flowing and ebbing around her like picture’s swirling in the wind.

Okoye could see that her queen was in a trance, she crawled towards her. Sitting behind to support her neck. Ramonda’s body limp in her hold.

Ramatla motioned for Yoliswa to turn the mirror toward Ramonda.

He kneeled near them, incense burning slowly in his hold. He swayed it around himself first before doing the same to Ramonda.

Breathing it in harshly she let out a series of coughs. Her eyes opened slightly. A tear accompanying her focusing vision. Ramatla’s hand tilted her head slightly upwards. That triggered something.

Suddenly there was water coming out of Ramonda’s mouth.

To say Okoye and Yoliswa were horrified would be an understatement. Okoye was petrified, she couldn’t lose the queen. Not over something like this, this was unexplainable. Nobody would believe her. Ramonda couldn’t die, not in her arms. Certainly not so soon after they lost their Black Panther.

“Do something! Why are you just sitting here, can’t you see she’s choking?” Okoye cried out.

Ramatla just raised his hand to silence her. And motioned to a semi conscious Ramonda

Her eyes snap open., She’s covered in a cold sweat and water, salt water, shaking, heart pounding, looking around the room suspicious and paranoid that the water may have followed her.

"The water. It’s coming. I can smell it, it enveloped me and all of you-" Ramonda let out, frantically trying to sit up. She turned to Ramatla, the hint of humour from before long gone. Panic swirled in his eyes.

"The screams, people being swallowed by the ocean. My people”. Ramonda settles into whoever’s behind. She’s so tired, so exhausted.

“My Queen, the only thing that was shown to me was your pending visit. I was told to point you to that mirror. Our ancestors didn’t want any messages to come through me. Only that I provide you with means to an answer that’s been waiting for you for weeks now”. Ramatla provided sounding just as down as he felt.

Yoliswa who had been kneeling near the mirror throughout the episode, looked at Ramatla for an instruction. He blinked in response. Yoliswa shuffled closer to Ramonda.

“Queen Mother, are you comfortable with your soldiers being here. They also might be able to see what you see in this mirror?”.

Ramonda nodded quickly.

She didn’t have a choice and waiting for the counsel to decide whether or not her visions are things to consider emergent was not something she wanted to pursue.

Ramatla sings a few chants. He lights his incense again. They can’t necessarily hear the words he saying. His hushed tone and the way his words tumble out his mouth proves it difficult to follow his line of sentences.

“-ingathi ningam’mpendula. Makube chosi, makudede ubumnyama kuvele ukukhanya.”

He stands up and makes his way to the Djembe. On his way back he scopes a white powder substance. Wearing the drum diagonally around his body he starts to thump it slowly at first.

Walking circles around him, the rhythm picks up and the volume increases.He stops… only to blow the powder into the mirror.

The strange powder and increase danced in front of their eyes. The frequencies were high. When the smoke cleared, Ramonda’s eyes caught movement in the mirror.

The reflection of her environment slowly morphed into a motion image of free fields. Like a movie was projected on the mirror.

¥

The field’s started to seem familiar. It was like she was walking through them. A hut came into view. A very familiar hut. One she remembers playing in as a kid. One she remembers having sleepovers at as a teenager. One she remembers sneaking into as a young adult.

Remembers running up that hill to inform you she’d cracked the code. That she’d heard the elders whispering about a powerful hidden nation. One that she knew she’d be able to penetrate, because she’d said she was smart enough to do that one time.

She was. She did get into the nation. Had met a young boy in the woods. The woods that she’d later find out are some sort of hologram.

The hut was right in front of her now. It was like Mama Noziza would walk right out, with a glass of water ready for Ramonda to drink because somehow she always knew that she ran and never walked when she came up there.

Noziza would just tilt her head back and Ranonda would barrage past her to get to you. It was almost always the case. Ramonda’s mother had mentioned it was the same story with you too. They’d laugh about it over a cold glass of sugar water.

The wooden door opened. Nostalgia punched her right in the gut. She can’t remember the last time she’d seen this scenery. More than 20 years the voice in the back of her head whispers. Ramonda could cry, she wants to scream really.

The broken window on the left brings in the most light. She remembers it breaking. A bunch of your friends were playing with a DIY dodgeball made with plastic and filled with wet newspapers. Your cousin had tied it so tight you had to develop skills to dodge it because it was painful. The stinging sensation forever etched into her brain.

You, tired of losing threw it so hard it went just a little higher than you wanted it and it pierced through your window. Everyone scattered. Including Ramonda, who just as she rounded the Rondavel to try and slide down the small hill, was snatched from behind by Noziza.

Tears gather at the memories, they cloud her vision. Snuffling she wipes them away to carry on the journey her ancestors are taking her on.

As she fixes her gaze back into the vision. She notices the room is empty. Void of the small pieces of furniture it once held. It zones in again. She can now make out a small figure in the middle of the hut.

Kneeled down facing forward. It feels like déjà vu. The same instance as her dream earlier.

This time the figure turns around, still on the floor. One knee tucked into their chest. Hands still grinding into a big rock. This time though Ramonda sees a pile of leaves and branches surrounding the small figure.

It looks up… and Ramonda let’s out a chocked sob.

“No”. She lets out. “No”.

The mirror clears instantly. No sign of it ever being a projector or whatever the heck that was. Ramonda wants to get up and leave. But she knows she can’t. Her body’s too weak to carry her all the way back to the palace.

“Kumkanikazi, ngobani ababantu?”

¥

[deathsbestgirl]

never again scully saying “it’s my life” after leonard betts tells her “i’m sorry but you have something i need” & she wanted to get the hell away from the case right after that, leaving mulder confused by her reaction, having no idea what’s wrong. and he’s still confused when she starts asking him about why her name isn’t on the door or why she doesn’t have a desk but she’s really worried about what happens when she’s gone, what difference did she make, what mark did she leave, what has she done with her life the last few years — mulder will probably be the only one who misses her besides her family. but she can’t talk about cancer when she hasn’t even been diagnosed yet, doesn’t really want to contemplate it but it’s all she can think about.

and then when she’s diagnosed, she calls mulder first. she’s already prepared to be his rock while he processes what she’s had time to accept. or at least wrap her head around enough that she can keep calm. and he does whatever she asks & helps her get answers & is with her as much as he possibly can be. it becomes so obvious how he’ll fall apart without her. she’ll leave a gaping hole in his life, in his heart. and she can’t bear that. she’s determined to live with her cancer. it doesn’t mean immediate death and she is with him always. they are each other’s strength. mulder is what gets her through her cancer, and she does the same for him.

and when he actually saves her, when he finds what will cure her cancer, he’s calms down. he isn’t so frantic. the affextion slides back to their normal. but neither of them are satisfied with that anymore. yet they have no idea how to move forward. whenever one tries, the other doesn’t get it or maybe panics & runs. because taking that next step — after everything they’ve been through & how many times they’ve faced losing each other — is even more terrifying than it was before. because they know their life wouldn’t be the same (would be destroyed) by losing the other.

and then !!! when they finally take the step, after scully’s vision & experience in all things, soon after mulder is ripped from her. she has to live with the miracle that happened to them without him. and then he dies & she has to keep going for their son. but how? how is she supposed to do it without him? then when he comes back, he’s lost & distant and he doesn’t realize that it’s their baby. he fears she moved on without him. but of course she didn’t. how could she possibly move on from mulder? her touchstone. the man who always saved her against every odd in the world. the man who loves her more than anything or anyone else in his life.

and it just doesn’t stop. they lose each other again. but they’re both alive & healthy and yet for the safety of their son & each other, mulder has to go into hiding. and they somehow struggle more than they ever have before. until they’re reunited again and mulder is sentenced to death for a crime he didn’t commit. william is gone, given up for adoption to protect him and they’re both so heartbroken but mulder doesn’t want scully to feel anymore guilt or shame or pain than he knows she already does. and scully does everything in her power to save him. their whole squad breaks him out and they’re on the run. together.

[captain--sif]

Strangers In Town

Gossip is all that Regina’s living on these days and the most interesting gossip you can get in Lebanon (that is, gossip that doesn’t concern people you’ve known your whole life about things you’ve seen coming from a mile away) is about the weird men living just out of town.

Vaguely inspired by Episode 14x16 Don't Go in The Woods

Fandom: Supernatural Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline Read below, on AO3 or on Wattpad

Regina’s life is boring. She had plans to go to university after school, get a career, move somewhere else, but then things went differently. So she’s still stuck in her hometown, working at her parents’ gas station. Gossip is all that Regina’s living on these days and the most interesting gossip you can get in Lebanon (that is, gossip that doesn’t concern people you’ve known your whole life about things you’ve seen coming from a mile away) is about the weird men living just out of town.

They’re brothers, people tell each other, and they work in some kind of shady business, for sure. It’s common knowledge that it's better not to be too curious about whatever they get up to.

The dark-haired man in the light beige trench coat and the younger man with him are a whole another thing though. Regina perks up when she sees them walking into the gas station shop. Just the two of them. Her day might become interesting after all.

She cranes her neck to keep them in her line of sight while they are browsing the store. The older man walks through the store with determination, apparently knowing exactly what he’s searching for, while the younger one walks towards the candy aisle and spends the whole time just staring at it. Occasionally, both of them are screwing up their faces in what looks like confusion. There’s a similarity in the way the expression manifests on their faces that makes Regina wonder if they’re related. It would make sense if all of these strange men from outside of town were all just one big family. Possibly. She hopes it’s not the case. Better not have some kind of mafia living next door.

“You can choose one candy,” the man in the trench coat says, strolling back to the younger one. His tone is fond and he’s smiling. Slightly. More like there’s a quirk to his lips. He doesn’t look like he makes a habit of smiling. But it looks genuine enough, so Regina accepts that he does in fact care for the younger man.

The young man's face lights up at that before he furrows his brows in concentration. Then he grabs a bar and holds it up in triumph.

They continue moving through the store and Regina has to admit she’s fascinated. They pass the basket where the keychain plushies are on display. The disorderly way in which they are strewn about catches Regina's attention. She'll have to take care of it after they leave. The older man spares a glance at the display, trying not to stop, but Regina assumes that he loses the internal war with himself because he ends up making both of them stop to examine the keychains. Tilting his head, he picks up a small Bulbasaur and holds it up in front of his face. Then he turns to the other man.

“You want it?” he asks and gets the same childlike glee in response.

“What is it?” the other man asks, looking boyish with all of his joy, “it doesn’t look like a real animal.”

“I don’t know.” He opens the little booklet attached. “It says that it’s a 'Po-ke-mon' here.”

He’s reading off the syllables as if he’s never heard of the word before. The younger man nods with as much recognition as the older one, and now Regina is sure that the two of them can only be Father and Son.

They take the Bulbasaur and move towards her, laying their few items on the counter. The father pays for all of it plus gas for the car. He smiles at her and engages in polite, if slightly weird, small talk before the two of them leave her shop.

Regina observes them as they leave and get into a car. She can't tell what they're saying but after exchanging a few words, the younger man gets behind the wheel, looking pleased about it. She strongly prefers the two of them to the brothers they live with. They seem nice enough. 

But maybe that’s their ruse. Lulling them all into false security and distracting them from their shady business with genuine politeness and charm.

Regina takes out her phone to text her friends. She has gossip to spread and opinions to ask for.

  Also find this on AO3 or on Wattpad

[francesderwent]

Okay so it’s like this, right:

Lucy and Bella both arrive in this new place because they’re both running from a lack of love. Lucy’s mother thought of her as a source of income, Bella’s mother was merely flighty and distracted, but both girls make the decision on their own to get out. Bella’s is a kind of quiet martyrdom, taking herself out of the picture so her mom can be happy even though Bella expects to be miserable in Forks; Lucy’s is less straightforward, but she’s certainly not openly pursuing her own happiness, she’s just turning her back on what she cannot bear any longer. Their destination isn’t a true home, it’s just somewhere to kill time. 

Lucy falls in with Lockwood & Co. Bella, eventually, falls in with the Cullens. Lockwood exerts a powerful fascination over Lucy; he’s charismatic, he seems grown-up, he’s fearless. I think of that scene where they’re out in the middle of the street after dark and Lockwood is saying that they’re the only ones who are brave enough to be out in the world while everyone else is cowering in their beds. Edward immediately exerts a similar fascination over Bella: he seems set apart, distanced from the unimportant dramas of teenagerhood and high school. 

Then Lucy realizes that part of Lockwood’s glowing vitality comes from the fact that he’s dancing a little too close to death. He appears brighter than everyone else because he’s close to flaming out. And Bella finds out the truth: Edward is not set apart because he’s more connected to life than all their peers. He’s, quite literally, dead.

To give credit where credit is due, both boys want to avoid dragging the girls down with them. Lockwood risks his life specifically to save Lucy’s, because even if no one would miss him, she has everything to live for. Edward tries to stay away from Bella, because vampirism is a curse and he doesn’t want that for her. 

But that’s where we start to see drastic divergence. Because Edward does give in—does date Bella, and marry her, and turn her. In Edward, Bella rejects humanity, rejects the whole natural world of life and death and all its suffering. She doesn’t want to be a part of the ordinary world; she wants to stay young and beautiful forever, no matter what she has to give up to get it. She ends up receiving some of those things anyway (she stays close with Charlie [and her future son-in-law Jacob bleaaaugh] and she is able miraculously to have a child), but in principle she accepted the loss of all that as worth it, if only she could have Edward and have him on her terms. What’s important to her, above all else, is positive feeling. She chooses Edward because she loves him more. She chooses vampirism because she’ll be inured from loss and pain, she can stay in the teenage honeymoon phase forever. 

Whereas Lucy does risk her life alongside Lockwood—they walk directly into the realm of death together—but both of them always come back from it, and they only risk their lives for the sake of life. Lockwood is willing to die to hold back the forces of death, so that life can rule in the world, so that people don’t have to cower in their beds. His youth shines bright because he is willing to lose his life, because he’s not clinging to it. And in the end, he lives, and Lucy lives with him. Their love for one another, crucially, did not kill them. It didn’t isolate them. It was a reason to wake up and make breakfast, a reason to do home repairs and plant flowers, a reason to gift family heirlooms, binding themselves into the cycle of life and love with everyone who came before them and those who will come after. Where Bella commits herself to an eternity of never being able to stay in one place for too long, Lucy finds a real home.

Both love stories have a similar set-up. Lockwood and Edward seem built along the same type of the broody hero. But the essence, of the story and of the boys, couldn’t be more different. Twilight is a gradual rejection of everything human with its flaws and its difficulty and its tragedy. Lockwood & Co is about the triumph of flawed, tragic humanity over and above those who would seek to transcend it.