#So I like to think why Amelia stayed in the game so long despite not playing was because Airy thought winning/getting her “wish” would make

[krilliondollars]

Production (I cropped this weird. sorry)

[be-side-my-self]

Okay, first of all I did the math wrong! Kaylee is only four years younger than Caleb, not five. Glad no one pointed it out XDD. I wasn't alone stupid. We're all stupid here. I changed it in the original posting but I want to add to this reblog chain because I like to keep everything in one place... but yeah that effectively would make Caleb 26 and Kaylee 22. But...

@blookitty I heard that the developers did Caleb's birth date math wrong and he's actually 10 years younger. So 16 in the game. Also, the end game screenshots of Silas as a human show him as at least 18 because he's TALL. Laura and Max escaped the afternoon of the full moon so weren't running around for long. Finally, growing up camping doesn't mean you understand how fast hay burns.

(If you still remember where you heard that Caleb was supposed to be 10 years younger feel free to share! if not that is fine too)

That is interesting because that would make Caleb younger than Kaylee which would explain the baby face. But then again it makes me wonder why Chris said that Caleb is working at the scrapyard in off season instead of going to school and that Kaylee still trying to figure out what she is doing, having her whole life in front of her.

Caleb being 16 in 2021 would make his birth year 2005 and we would assume that Amelia died that year instead of 1999, the year Kaylee was born. But that would also mean he would have been 9 years old (to a 15 year old Kaylee) when he started that fire so Kaylee was rescuing Silas.

And that... is... that would paint Kaylee even worse! Little nine year old brother, please start a fire...

Anyway... what would make this whole idea even more interesting is that Kaylee keeping her birthday (1999), Amelia and Chris would have been 26 when they got her. They would have been 32 when they got Caleb, which is both a better age to have children than 22 (canon birth of Caleb) and 26...

(in that case Amelia would have been the same age to have Caleb as Constance was when she got Travis! 22 years old!)

But also if Kaylee is the older one it would explain why Travis feels closer to her, being the oldest one himself and her having a six year gap to her little brother, compared to Travis and the eight year gap to Chris instead of her being the favorite because she is the only girl and the youngest.

But this is all guesswork and what if's there is still the fact that we have the birthdates on the family tree so that is what I am going to assume is canon. But again, everyone can look at it and take the hints the way they want (and fanfic AUs are doing the rest lol).

It would also be interesting if both Caleb and Kaylee were supposed to be like 5 years younger, which would make them 21 (*2000) and 17 (*2004) but also 15 and 11 when they started the fire which is more believable and would also support the photo of them from them visiting the carnival / Harum Scarum.

But in all cases I stay at my point that they should have known about the dangers of fire, even if not the special danger of a hayfire but a fire close to humans and in the middle of the woods. And I even more stay at my point that they should have asked their father or uncle for help!

But I know that is neither here nor there because otherwise we wouldn't have a game xD

Silas... he could be 18 but one theory I really like is the idea of Werewolf blood not only curing injury and basically bring you back from the dead but also keeping you young.

Which would explain why Jed, Travis and Bobby are very agile and strong despite their ages... (well Bobby is only 45 but it could maybe explain parts of his very strong physique too?) because they use werewolf blood on themselves regularly and certainly consume some by mistake... (I think it was Cellar who first had that idea!)

What I want to say is even though Silas might look 18 years old he could still be way older. The old poster from his cage looks like it's from the 80s... so he could be easily way in his 30 close to 40.

Then again, it would be weird if Kaylee would want to rescue a supposedly adult instead of a kid...

Honestly... no matter how we look at it... it does not really make sense ... or I just can't see it right now.

@alicestrange98 think 1999 and 1995 are really when Kaylee and Caleb were born. Caleb most likely had a baby face. I know several men who are twice as old as Caleb and sometimes I can also call them stupid boys. So I do believe that at 20 Caleb was a "stupid kid".

I hadn't planned on reblogging this post once more but since I do I can comment anyway.

This is a valid point! xD

Also Caleb being at least for 6 years a werewolf could also cause some serious baby-face.

I think I got blocked so I will now talk about Silas and post in his tag and you all have to suffer... or you like what I'm going to write.

The white wolf really is such a mysterie which is a pity. Whe know literally nothing but his name and what he kind of looks like.

All we know about him are from very untrustworthy sources.

One is Travis who is telling us what Kaylee told him.

Travis assumes that Eliza is not Silas' real mother. But we don't know that. Eliza looks really old so how likely is it? Well, it can still be true that Eliza is indeed Silas mother since the game is taking place in a world where werewolves, witches and ghosts are real.

But all of this just raises more question and we get literally no answers.

Like how old was/is Silas?

Travis says Kaylee wanted to help the child. this means that Silas was in his human form, right? And Travis also says that even six years later there are sightings of a feral albino child along the coast. Of course if Silas was something like 6 years old when Harum Scarum got destroyed, he could be 12 when he was finally "caught".

That again raises the question if no one ever tried to find him and bring him inside? A naked child in the woods that was seen multiple times?

Anyway let us look at the poster on the cage:

compared to the new flyer, we find all the time, the one from six years ago:

In the first one Eliza looks a lot younger. Of course that could have been the artist of the poster deciding to just pretty her up. But if you look at the design, the first ones looks older... like it could be from decades ago.

But Silas was already a part of the show then. So... how old is Silas really? Is he Elizas son? She sure seems to think so.

"Mommy is coming Silas!"

(Sorry the screenshots I have are bad)

Eliza sees Silas as her son. Why did she put him in a cage? Maybe it wasn't as bad as Kaylee thought it was? It might have been good enough that people thought it is just an act? The cage itself is rather big... Maybe peope thought the feral thing was also just an act?

That would be what I might assume... children who grow up in a circus often help out with the acts.

Either way, Eliza loved Silas enought to stay in the real world as a ghost and to try to kill off a whole family to protect him (and maybe bring him snacks/campers into the woods, who knows).

Anyway talking about age, another thing is that both Kaylee and Caleb are (if we believe the family tree) 21 (*1999) and 26 (*1995)

Not exactly teenagers, even though Chris titles them as such. The developers are just not exact with the ages and all characters are unreliable narrators.

Also Caleb was 20 when he started the fire to help his 15 year old sister to free a child. Instead of asking their cop-uncle to help?

All of this just seems weird. Caleb should have known better. He was already an adult who grew up in the woods and at camp. He should know about the dangers of fire.

Even if they were both only 10 years old they should have known better...

Another thing is that we have to assume is, that Silas was in his human form when he got "rescued". And still he bit Caleb. He is multiple times described as feral (again by Travis who is not a reliable source) but it might still be true.

The fact alone that Silas bit Caleb while probably being human is an indicator for Silas actually being feral. That raises the question of why was Silas like that? Was he like that from the beginning? Or was he just not raised adequately? OR if he really is older than he looks did he become more feral with time?

All of those are valid options.

Another thing that always strikes me as weird is Kaylees letter. The first time I heard it, it sounded like she is not sorry about what happened. It sounds like she is only sorry about how it turned out.

Though, many people died she does not sound like she feels any regret... maybe werewolves really become more feral with time?

Gammy, How long we gonna drag this shit out? I know family is the most important thing, but I wanna know what's outside the forest, outside this damn house and camp, and I sure as hell know that ain't about to happen 'cos of who we are. Maybe we can explain what's goin' on. Fuckin' show people. Then they'll know we got no control over it. I know you just tryin' to protect us, but one day you won't be here no more and right now it feels like we stuck in a dark hole. I can't sleep Gammy. Or if I do I dream about that fuckin' fire. We were just dumbass kids back then. I wish it never happened. Love, K xoxo

Also Kaylee writes that they were just dumbass kids, which might be true for her but not for her brother (again, 15 and 20).

BUT THEN we have this photo:

We don't know when it was made but it could be from six years ago? But Caleb does not look 5 years older than Kaylee... all of this is just one big mysterie.

Anyway I wish we would have learned more about Silas because the things we do learn are not really anything to go with... all we can do is take those and put our own preferred headcanons around them.

[erineverly]

  ❛  CONTINUED  FROM  HERE .  🌻  ┊  ( @rcsechild )

The last few months have been challenging and difficult for Erin, to say the least. Ever since their wedding in April, everything has been spiraling down, with a few ups here and there but nothing truly significant. She can count on the fingers of one hand the days when she was genuinely happy from the moment that she opened her eyes in the morning to the second she closed them at night. They always find something to bicker about, whether it’s something as unimportant as a leaky faucet or something that originates from a much bigger issue like random outbursts of jealousy and anger. There’s always some sort of tension between them and it’s driving her insane. She thinks of running away so often that every time her eyes flicker to the ring on her finger, she can’t help but feel repulsed. Especially when she reminds herself that it’s no longer just the two of them — they’re having a baby and the timing couldn’t possibly be worse. Willow Amelia will be here in a few weeks and their marriage is hanging by a thread. She doubts it can last until the end of September, let alone the beginning of November.

There’s a lot of stress and pressure on both of them. Despite Erin’s best efforts, this pregnancy has been anything but a joyful ride, especially the third trimester. Summers in California are usually hot and dry. Born and raised in the Valley, the curly-haired brunette has grown used to the heat index being above the 90s. However, this particular summer is unlike anything she’s ever experienced. Her feet swell almost every single day, her back and legs ache constantly, she has to go to the bathroom every twenty minutes and even after hours and hours of nothing but frustrations, she rarely gets any sleep at night. She suffers from insomnia. All she does when the sun goes down is toss and turn and waddle to the bathroom. But the worst part about this whole ordeal? She feels like she’s alone. She can’t truly count on anyone because no one understands what she’s going through. She’s tired and grouchy and easily irritated, and all the hormonal changes in her body only pour more gasoline over the already burning fire.

However, despite acting selfish so often, Erin does understand that there’s a lot on Axl’s plate as well right now. She’d have to be blind to fail to notice how frustrated he can get. With Steven no longer in the band, their house still up on the market, the crazy neighbor calling the cops on them every time they as much as raise their voices, the amount of stress that the redhead most likely experiences on a daily basis must be immeasurable. Unfortunately, instead of making things easier for him, his wife is doing the exact opposite and unintentionally only making his life more difficult. That’s when guilt sets in. They should be cherishing every moment that they get to spend together, they should be thankful that their baby is alive and growing . . . Usually, they do anything but that.

So, when Axl shakes her awake one morning, the last thing that she expects is a surprise trip. The vacation that they both clearly need and deserve. When she opens her eyes and sees the suitcases, the very first thing that comes to her mind is — he’s finally had enough, he’s leaving. Her features light up all at once when he informs her that they’re going to the airport together. When they touch down in Indianapolis, Erin is no longer the grouchy, frustrated beast that she’d been the past few weeks. There’s a bright smile on her face and an almost unfamiliar feeling in her heart — hope. Maybe, just maybe, everything will work out and this will be the new beginning. The change that they’ve both been waiting and praying for. Their plane arrives late in the evening, which is why they decide to stay the night at a hotel in Indianapolis, get some much-needed rest and start exploring the next morning.

That’s how they find themselves in a car, heading in the direction only known to the redhead. For the first time in months, Erin is completely relaxed and actually feeling good. One could even say that she’s glowing again. “So . . . We should play a game, you know? I’ll try to guess where we’re going and if I’m right, you’ll buy me a milkshake when we get there,” she playfully suggests, reaching over the console and turning the music down just enough for them to hear one another. She opens her mouth and is about to share one of her assumptions with the redhead when something distracts her. She jolts up in her seat like an overjoyed toddler and squeaks, “oh, my goodness! Look at all these cows, Axy! Aren’t they so cute? Why aren’t they black and white, though? I thought all cows were black and white.” Giggling, she points at a large herd of cows outside and waves at them. “Moo!” She calls out just to be even more obnoxious and make the other laugh. “I don’t think they understand me, Axy. You should try. This one could be your twin sister. She just hasn’t grown her bangs as long as yours yet.”

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

BESTIES!! PART 10 IS A HOT ONE!! Enjoy reading it as much as I did while writing it (and re-reading it because its probs one of my fav parts of the whole series) Love Always, Steph xx

Part 10 | parte dieci

warnings; heavy-petting, almost-smut, and a hot jack grealish - read at your own risk ;) word count; 2469. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 16/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Longing glances and shy smiles. That  was how Amelia and Ben both spent the next morning at Cobham together, prior to travelling to Stamford Bridge for the fourth match of the season against Aston Villa. The two had spent the rest of the evening relaxing on the couch; no additional kisses were shared between them as they had both agreed to keep things friendly, and no matter how hard Ben tried, Amelia had no intentions of going any further just yet. She had admitted to him something that she had never uttered out loud before: she still needed to work out how to exist without Fede.

While their situationship had been as unconventional as it was, it was still something that Amelia had grown to live with and love. Fede’s personality was unlike no other she had come across, perhaps closest to that of Jack Grealish. Friendly, flirtatious, charming, to the point where she found herself blushing sometimes - not many people had been able to make her shy enough to blush, but Fede had, and now Jack was too.

hot boy grealish

mornin mils, can’t wait to see ya today.

I’ll be the hot one with the good hair and even better ass.

hot gal mils

morning my dear jacky, looking forward to seeing you too.

Is Tyrone not playing?

His bum has always been my fav bum to stare at.

hot boy grealish

cut it out, you.

Banter-filled texts had been a constant stream of entertainment throughout the days leading up to the match. Jack has been preparing Amelia for the possibility of her losing, constantly picking on the girl for being an overachiever and saying that she needs to be brought down a few pegs, having been quite some time since her team had lost a match. Amelia however, with enough self-confidence to rival that of the villa boy, wouldn’t even let him finish his sentences. Far too superstitious for that to happen.

The girl believed in superstitions, and she was not about to tempt her fate. She even went so far as to have her family name and a small Italian flag embroidered onto the inside of her collar of every polo shirt she would wear for match days. She did it at Juventus and organised for it to be done to her new Chelsea uniform. It was a personal choice, something that happened to run in her family also, her father and brother also having the White family name stitched to the inside of their kit. It was a way of keeping them all tied together, no matter what side of the pitch they were on. The Italian flag was there to remind her of all that the country had given her: her grandparents and a chance to be brilliant at what she loves most.

Arriving at Stamford Bridge off of the team bus, Jorgi had insisted she sitwith him and they spoke exclusively in Italian for the 30-odd minute drive from Cobham. Despite Amelia purchasing a new car a few days prior, Jorgi insisted they continue to carpool. It worked out well because now Amelia wouldn’t have to catch the team bus back to the training ground after the match. She had spent the better part of an hour out on the pitch with some of the boys, running through the plays she had in mind before she ushered them back into the changeroom, allowing the Aston Villa men to have their time out on the grass.

______________________________________________________________

“I would know that bum anywhere.”

“Hello Jack, nice to see you too. I’ve been well thanks, so has my bum. I’ll let my face know you said hello, too,” I spoke as I stood up from my crouched position, where I had been tying my laces.

“Just kiddin love, actually no I'm not - I love your bum. But I am happy to see your beautiful face too!” Jack spoke, as he pulled me into a hug - wrapping both of his arms around my head, effectively pushing me further into his chest.

“You saw my face a couple days ago when we were on FaceTime!”

“I saw your bum a few days ago on FaceTimetoo, doesn’t mean I'm not happy to see it!”

“So that's why you like helping me do my laundry, so you can see my backside as I reach into the machine!”

“Now I’m not a religious man, but I have prayed to God a few times that you drop a sock or two riiiiiiight in front of the camera.” He laughed back at my shocked expression.

“Jack! You are ridiculous! Stop being such a perv! No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend” I play-shouted at him as I smacked him with my rolled up matchday program.

“I’m holding out for you, my love.”

“Always the joker, Jack. Get out there and prepare for the worst match of your season.”

“Dream on Mils, we’ve got this in the bag.”

“Sure thing Jacky, sure thing.”

I walked further up the tunnel towards the changeroom, getting ready to deliver my strategy talk to the boys.

“Stop looking at my ass, Grealish!” I shouted without turning around. The boisterous laugh that followed my exclamation was enough to know that I was correct. I didn’t need to turn around to be able to predict what the laddish lad was already doing.

60 minutes of football later.

Amelia was correct in saying that Chelsea were going to win the match, her quiet confidence only getting louder and louder as each premier league match went on. She was apprehensive at first to see if her tactics were going to work in the Prem, or if there was to be some compromise on skill due to the fast-paced nature of the game. So far, however, the Chelsea men were quick learners and even quicker to execute.

One thing she wasn’t prepared for, however, was the absolute worldie that Jack had scored just before half-time at the Bridge. There was an element of familiarity in his goal, recognising the play as one of her own. A small smile crossed  her face after he scored, running to celebrate with the away fans before jogging down past the bench and mouthing a quick “all you baby” at her as he moved back into position. She must have told him about it back when she was in Italy, knowing that there was no chance she would have exchanged her trade secrets to an enemy in the same league. It warmed her to know he paid enough attention to her to be able to practice that on his own with his team and execute it flawlessly in a live game.

What Amelia also wasn’t prepared for was for anyone else to recognise the play. Behind her on the bench sat an oddly-inquisitive Ben. He saw the tactic as it was playing out, recognising the run that Jack had to make to put himself in the box at the exact moment that John McGinn crossed the ball. Better yet, he saw Jack run down the sideline, nowhere near where he should have been, and mouth those words to Amelia. He wanted to know what was going on, was that why she wasn’t ready to commit to him?

Later that same evening.

After a hot shower, Amelia was curled up on the couch, ready to continue the docuseries she was watching the night before when she had an unexpected visitor pop round and confess his feelings to her. Thinking back on the night prior, she was happy that things ended up working out the way they did. Of course she wasn’t exactly thrilled with just how they happened but she could forgive the sweet boy. His intentions were pure and that's not something she was used to. It made her giddy to think about him, and about where things may go in the future.

A ring of her doorbell, almost to the exact hour that it had the night prior, made her get off her couch and walk down the small hall to the front door with a smirk on her face. Expecting to see the same brown-haired, blue-eyed boy that seemed to enjoy ringing her bell after hours. What she saw on the other side, however, was not what she was expecting.

“Jack, what on bloody God’s earth are you doing here?! You should be halfway back to Birmingham by now!”

“Are you gonna let me in love, it’s bloody cold out ‘ere tonight. Come on, shove over,” The slightly-less-than-6-foot-tall footballer commandeered her hallway, shutting the door behind him and locking it. This,  coupled with his overnight duffle bag hanging off his shoulder let Amelia know that he had no other plans but to stay with her.

“Sure, Jack, I suppose you can come in and spend the night crashing in my spare room.”

“Now now, don’t pretend that you’re not happy to see me, love. And a spare room? I believe you promised me a cuddle.”

Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t help but smile at the charming young man. Feeling the blush start to spread from her chest up her neck and across her cheeks, she quickly turned and walked into her kitchen, calling out over her shoulder to ask if he wanted a cup of tea. Feeling a sense of deja vu from the night before, she shook her head and reminded herself that this is nothing like the night before. How could it have been - there was no kissing involved.

“Was that a blush I saw? Do I make you nervous, Amelia?” Somehow, Jack had moved to be right behind the girl at her kitchen counter. Hands on her hips, chest to her back, lips to her ear. Amelia felt herself freeze, and then relax into his hands.

“Jack, please, I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not, Mils? You can feel it, too. The tension through the screen’s enough to force me into a cold shower most nights.”

And just like the night before, the whistle of the kettle was the only piercing sound resonating around the townhouse. Whilst all she saw was truth behind Ben’s eyes, Jack's eyes were clouded with lust and affection. Just once, she could give in, right?

Leaning her head back to rest on his right shoulder, he attached his lips to the left side of her neck. Hands rolling from the side of her hips, to underneath her shirt, feeling the small navel piercing between his fingers and smirking.

“Didn’t take you for being the kind of girl to have a piercing, Mils,” He spoke into her collarbone, a small nip to the sensitive skin as the girl continued to focus on her breathing.

“Piercings, Jack. I have more than one” She breathlessly spoke, knowing exactly what she was doing now. The admission of having more than one piercing that he could not see was all of the consent Jack needed to continue his exploration of her body.

“Are you going to let me see them, darling?”

“If you’re lucky.”

“I’d say I'm the luckiest guy in the world right now, especially in this position.”

She was unsure how it had happened, but Jack had pressed her further into the countertop. With her back still to his chest, his waist was at the perfect height to press into the small of her back. His leg had settled between both of her own and his hands had found the bottom of her bralette and were gently caressing her rib cage, desperate to get closer to where he presumed her other piercing was.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Jack,” she breathed out into the air, hot air escaping her lungs to resemble what she felt brewing in the pit of her stomach. Desire.

“Why the bloody hell not?” he mumbled into her sweet spot, where her jaw met her neck.

“Because I've been here before. This is bad.” With her eyes shut, he continued his way down her neck. The fabric of her top shifted so he could slide one of her straps down her arm.

“If it's bad, why does it feel so good? '' Whilst his lips got to work on her collarbone, and his hand was busy toying with the elastic line of her bralette, his other hand began to fiddle with her fingers. Entwining them with his own, the kind of strength she needed to feel to make her next decisions.

Pushing back off of the counter, meaning her ass had pushed right into the part of his body where he wanted her most, Amelia turned around and faced Jack. The two stood there, slightly panting, staring at each other. Amelia being the kind of girl that she is, decided that she wanted to have a little slice of the dominance pie. Maintaining eye contact, she lifted the bottom of her t-shirt over her head and dropped in on the floor, that second piercing now very clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her bralette.

“Come on Jack, aren’t you an athlete? What’s got you so out of breath? I thought you’d be able to last a little longer than some heavy petting.” She taunted at the smirking man, wanting nothing more than to mess up his hair as he nestled himself between her thighs. That's exactly the position that they found themselves in not more than 5 minutes later, this time upstairs in her bedroom.

Throughout the multiple rounds of passion that the two so-called friends shared that night, not once had their lips touched. Of course, her lips had touched parts of him and he had definitely been all over a completely different set of lips a few times (and from a few different positions), but face to face, eye to eye, nose to nose - their lips had never met. That told Amelia enough to set her anxiety on fire. Had she just gotten involved with a carbon-copy of the man she left behind in Italy?

The regret seeped through her bones and settled into her heart by the time that the Villa boy had fallen asleep next to her. What had she done? This was not the girl Amelia wanted to be anymore. She was done being the girl that was loved only when the lights went out. She wanted love under the sun, she wanted breakfast by the river, double dates, family parties. She wanted the kind of love that you could never try and hide even if you wanted to. She knew that this wasn’t what Jack was able to offer her. She was grateful for their friendship, she truly was, he made her laugh more than most people but for the first time in a very long time, she was certain that that's all she wanted from him.

Part 11. | parte undicesima

[sequinsmile-x]

Day-to-Day

Chapter 4: Aaron

Words: 5k

Warnings: None 

Read over on ao3, or below the cut.

Please let me know what you think <3

December 2009

He’d convinced her to go. Aaron had seen her hesitation as she stood at the front door of their temporary apartment, the twitch in her fingers when Amelia almost immediately reached out for her after Aaron took her. The way she bit her lip when Theo asked her, again, if she really had to go out.

She did have to go, despite how much she would deny it. He knew she needed some time with her friends, and Penelope and JJ had practically begged for a girls night. The 6 months Emily had been gone long and drawn out for all of them. She talked them down to dinner, not wanting to spend too long away from her family that had been so delicately stitched back together. Getting a table at any restaurant so close to Christmas had been difficult, but being the daughter of an ambassador had its advantages, and for once Emily hadn’t been hesitant to use them.

Aaron had sent her on her way with a kiss to her cheek and an assurance that they would be ok without her for a couple of hours.

He was now slightly regretting that decision, but he would never tell her. Their children were feral. Jack was in a mood. His teenage angst was out in full swing this evening, the anger he had experienced shortly after Haley’s death coming back to the forefront in the fallout of the situation with Foyet. He was hiding out in his room, playing a video game and ignoring his father.

Theo was asking where Emily was every few minutes and when she’d be back. He tried to placate his son with his favourite tv show and pizza, and it wouldn’t do. Theo was sitting in the living room, sideways on an armchair as he watched the front door intently. Aaron knew he was going to have to have a conversation with Emily soon about the attachment issues, but it was not the time yet, knowing his wife wouldn’t take it well either. That part of her loved that their son constantly sought her out.

Amelia was cranky. She still didn’t fully trust him, but things were better than they had been when she first shied away from him a few weeks ago. He knows that Emily nursed her before she puts her to bed, that it’s a treasured part of his wifes daily routine, so in the hope that a snack will help he grabs a small yoghurt from the fridge and places her in her high chair.

He feeds her, and although just under half of it ends up on her face, she does calm down a little whilst she is eating. He cleans her up, but she starts fussing again almost immediately.

As soon as Emily walks into the apartment he breathes a sigh of relief. Theo jumps out of the chair and to his mothers side, immediately hugging her.

“Mommy, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She kneels down to hug him properly, kissing the side of his head. She pulls back to look at him, thumb worrying over the now mostly healed cut on his forehead that he had acquired during Aaron’s final showdown with Foyet. She looks over and sees Amelia crying in Aaron’s arms. “It’s late, why don’t you go to bed and I’ll come say goodnight in a bit?”

Theo nods, hugging her again before bounding off, throwing a goodnight aimed at his father as he runs down the hallway.

“You were right.” She says, happiness pouring off of her as she removes her coat and shoes at the door. “I really did need that. Pen kept trying to convince me to drink wine even though I told her I’m still nursing.” She says with a laugh in her voice, she turns to him and the smile slides off her face as she takes in the sight of him, and he realises how stressed he must look.

Ameila tries to turn in his arms at the sound of her mother’s voice and starts to cry harder as she reaches out for Emily. Aaron transfers her with little fanfare, knowing that whatever was wrong with the little girl was something only his wife could fix.

“What's this all about, baby?” Emily says as she holds her daughter tightly, her lips pressed to her forehead as she rocks her. “Has she been like this since I left?” She asks as she looks up at her husband.

“The past hour.” Aaron says, watching as Emily gently bounces Amelia in her arms as she attempts to settle the 11 month old. “I’ve been struggling to calm her down.”

The sympathy on his wifes face makes frustration flood his veins, another reminder of something Foyet had taken from him. His relationship with his daughter was still fragile, the way she was still unsure around him a punch to the gut every time she frantically reached out for her mother. Emily looks at the high chair and frowns when she spots the yoghurt pot still sitting on the tray.

“Did she eat that?” Emily asks, her hand rubbing delicate circles on Amelia’s back.

Aaron looks over before turning back to his wife. “Yeah, she was cranky. They all were. I thought a snack would help tide her over until you got home.”

Emily hesitates. It’s fast, almost undetectable, but he catches it.

“Aaron.” Her voice is soft, gentle in a way that was usually only used on the children when she wanted them to know they weren’t in trouble. “She’s lactose intolerant.”

The memory hits him suddenly. Emily curled up next to him in the hotel room they had stayed in when they were first reunited, filling him in on anything and everything to do with the kids. He remembers her telling him that the doctors had got to the bottom of Amelia’s bad stomach, and that she was dairy free herself because she was still nursing her. She’d lamented missing chocolate and cheese, and joked it was her biggest sacrifice as a mother so far.

“I’m sorry.” He stutters, not sounding like himself as it dawned on him. “I’m sorry.” He repeats as he runs his hand through his hair.

“Aaron, baby, it’s ok.” She says, her hand on his arm. She has Amelia on her hip, one arm securing their grumpy baby to her. “It happens. I should have reminded you before I went out.”

“I should know what my daughter can and cannot eat without being reminded.” He seethes, his anger aimed at himself. He tears his arm from under her hand and takes a couple steps back. He watches as she tries to placate him further, useless reassurances on the tip of her tongue. “I’m going out.”

“Honey-”

“I need some air.” He grabs his keys from the side table and leaves the apartment before she can argue any further, the door closing a little too harshly behind him.

Emily sighs and closes her eyes. Amelia buries her head further into her mothers neck, whining as she did so.

“Oh, sweet girl. I know you feel icky.” She kisses the side of her daughter's head and rubs her back. “Let's go see what your brothers are up to.” She kisses her head again and walks through the apartment in search of her sons. ________________

She feeds and settles Amelia before reading with Theo for a bit, smiling as her son drifts off to sleep against her side. She quietly slips out of his room, well practised at the quick and silent exit, and gently closes his bedroom door. Jack gives her a small wave and a grunt when she pops her head into his room, his grumpiness obvious the second she lays eyes on him.

Emily washes her face, blowing out a breath as she takes in the sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. Any joy, any relief she felt after spending an evening with her friends had wilted as quickly as it had bloomed in her chest. The lightness that JJ’s laugh, and Penelope’s overly personal questions about Emily and Aaron’s reunion, had brought was torn away by the devastation in her husband's eyes just before he left the apartment.

Everytime they made progress, every step away from what Foyet had done to Aaron, to their family, it felt like they were thrown right back into it. Emily was exhausted. She missed the version of them that had existed before she had come home to find her husband missing and his blood staining their hardwood floor.

She wondered if they’d ever get the old them back, or if they would slowly build something better. Emily was hopeful that the move to the new house would help, that it would give them new foundations. Somehow even stronger than the ones they had before.

She’s finishing up getting ready for bed, pulling her pyjama shirt over her head, when she hears the front door open, and her husband’s familiar steps throughout the apartment. She hears their bedroom door open and close quickly. She takes a deep breath before she walks out of the ensuite and she sees him sat on the end of the bed, his head in his hands. She sits next to him, purposely keeping her hands to herself despite how much she wants to touch him, to assure him everything was ok. A slight clench in his jaw is the only indicator he has even registered that she's there. She waits him out, knowing he needs to process this himself before he’ll speak to her.

“I should have remembered.” He finally says, removing his head from his hands but not looking at her.

“Aaron-”

“Don’t.” He interrupts, finally looking at her. There are unshed tears in his eyes that make her heart ache. Thoughts about how she could find a way to bring George Foyet back to life just so she could kill him herself burning through her.

“Don’t what?”

“Tell me that it’s ok. Because it isn’t.” He shakes his head at himself. “I gave our little girl…” His voice falters and he clears his throat. “I gave her something that’s made her sick.”

“And so did I.” She reasons, and she grabs his hand. “For the first almost 5 months of her life she was getting it through my breast milk. You did it once. Give yourself a break.”

“I should have remembered.” He says, repeating himself.

“Baby.” She says, moving her hands to grasp his cheeks. “Please stop this. She’s going to be ok. She is ok. She’s fast asleep next door.” She leans her forehead against his, her thumbs stroking his cheeks. “We’re all ok.”

He starts to cry, sobs escaping him that he hadn’t set free since their ordeal had ended. Emily had been waiting for it as he processed everything at his own pace. She pulls him towards her, his head resting on her chest as she wraps her arms tightly around him, one hand in his hair as she presses fierce kisses to the top of his head.

“I’m right here.” She kisses the top of his head again, unsurprised when she can feel her own tears on her face. “You’re ok. I’m here.”

She comforts him like she does their children. With tender words and soft touches, the whispering of nonsense against his hair as he slowly calms. The grip he has on the back of her shirt loosens ever so slightly.

Aaron sniffs as he pulls back, a shaky smile on his face as she wipes his tears away with her thumbs.

“I’m sorry.” He apologies, his voice cracked and torn open by the months of repressed emotion he had let out against her skin.

“You have nothing to apologise for.” Emily says tenderly. “I’m your wife. This is what I’m here for.”

Amelia’s cry through the baby monitor visibly undoes some of the work she had done in calming him down, some tension returning to his shoulders. Emily kisses his cheek before she stands up.

“You get ready for bed, I’ll go see what's up with her.” She says just before leaving the room, crossing the hallway into the small bedroom serving as Amelia’s temporary nursery. Most of the baby's things are boxed up ready for the move to the new house. Emily smiles as she approaches the crib, Amelia already standing with her arms reaching out for her. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

She picks up her daughter, settling her on her hip as she kisses the side of her head. Amelia almost immediately settles, her crying quietening down as she presses her face into her mother’s neck.

“You just wanted to cuddle, huh?” Emily says, pacing the small room. “I think your dad could do with a cuddle too.”

Emily walks back into their bedroom to find it empty, but the tap running in the ensuite calms any nerves that he had left again. She settles into bed and lays Amelia on her chest, the baby snuggling down, her fingers grasping at her mother’s shirt.

When Aaron leaves the ensuite he falters slightly at the sight in front of him. Emily catches it, the small hesitation before he climbs into bed. Amelia is already half asleep, the discomfort she had been in when Aaron last saw her gone, and Emily watches the tension leave him as he sees with his own eyes that the baby is ok.

“See, she’s fine.” Emily says, smiling at him as he lays down next to them.

He kisses the top of Amelia’s head, which makes her open her eyes. She reaches out for him and he carefully takes her to settle her against his own chest. Emily smiles as she moves to be closer to them, her head resting on Aaron’s chest next to their daughter. He presses a kiss to the top of his wifes head.

“My girls.”

“Yeah.” She replies. “Your girls.” ________________

April 2021

Aaron sighs in frustration as his phone rings, distracting him from his lesson plans. Emily often teased him for his interpretation of retirement, the profiling classes he taught at the academy taking up a fair amount of his time. He turns from his computer to pick up his cell phone, frowning when he sees a number he doesn’t recognise as he answers.

“An inmate at the Federal Correctional Institution in Otisville, New York is calling you, to accept the charges please press one.” An automated voice says through the phone.

The name of the prison makes him freeze, there is only one person he knew who was in prison in New York. He presses one and puts the phone back to his ear, waiting for the call to connect.

“Aaron?” He hears down the phone, the voice on the other end of the tinny line was unsure, nerves easily showing through.

“Sean?” ________________

The rest of the day goes by in a blur and the next thing he is truly aware of is the front door opening, Amelia and Theo bursting in, both of them animatedly talking about their days.

“Hi Dad.” Theo says as he passes through the kitchen where Aaron is sitting, grabbing a snack and leaving the room almost immediately. “I’ve got loads of homework, back in a bit.”

“Hi Theo.” He says, a small smile on his face as his ever studious 18 year old is already out of the room, his mind clearly on whatever work he was assigned that day.

“Dad, do we have any antacids?” Amelia asks as she joins him in the kitchen, grimacing as she walks in with her arms wrapped around her stomach.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?” He asks, frowning, pulling her into a quick hug she only protests slightly as she walks past.

“Yeah, just a bad stomach.”

Before he can ask any more questions the front door opens again, and Emily’s voice soon follows.

“Hi.”

“We’re in the kitchen, Em.”

She joins them, a wide smile on her face as she kisses his cheek.

“Everything ok?”

“Everything is fine.” Amelia answers far too quickly.

“Mills has a stomach ache.” Aaron says, and he can’t help but smirk at the way she narrows her eyes at him.

“Traitor.”

“Amelia.” Emily says, her hand gently grasping her daughter's chin to tilt her head, sighing when she sees the hives on her neck. “You had the cheese fries for lunch again didn’t you?”

The 12 year old sighs, knowing lying to her mother, to either of her parents, is pointless. “Yes.”

“Baby, you’re lactose intolerant.” Emily chastises as she tucks some of Amelia’s hair behind her ear.

“Mom, it's cheese fries. Totally worth it.”

Emily sighs, knowing that the slight grimace on her daughter's face is nothing to do with her rebuke, but the discomfort she knows she is in.

“There is some Pepto in the medicine cabinet in our bathroom. Go take some and go lie down.”

Amelia smiles gratefully and starts to make her way out of the room before she turns back. “I’m not going to find anything gross in there am I?”

“Amelia.”

“What?” She says, throwing her hands up. “I’ve caught you guys making out way too many times not to check. I’ve been burned before.”

Emily raises an eyebrow at her. “Go. Now.”

“I’m going.” Amelia says as she leaves the room, something a bit too close to a curse word muttered under her breath.

“That girl will be the death of me.” Emily says as she turns to Aaron, his silence throughout her exchange with their daughter, the lack of quips about how similar they were, now only striking her as odd as she takes in the look on his face. His gaze fixed in the distance, not focused on anything in particular. She frowns and takes a step closer to him, placing her hand over his on the counter. “Honey, are you ok?”

He looks at her, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Sean called me.”

Emily doesn’t cover her shock, her hand tightening over his. It had been years since they had heard from Sean. The supposed truce the brothers had come to in New York, when a rare family vacation had turned into a case, had fallen apart as soon as Sean was formally sentenced. Aaron had tried reaching out at the beginning, attempting to visit his brother, but it had always been radio silence on the other side.

Over time he stopped trying, his attempts at calling Sean getting further apart. His requests to go see him stopped. To anyone else it would look like Aaron had accepted it, that he simply was no longer going to be a part of his brother's life. Emily knew better than that.

“What?”

“He called from prison. He wants me to go see him.”

“Oh.” She replies, taking a second before she joins him at the kitchen island, linking their fingers together properly as she settles next to him on one of the stalls. “Are you ok?”

“I think so.” He answers, looking at her, uncertainty all over his face despite his answer. “No.”

Emily places her spare hand on his thigh. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to see him.”

She nods, squeezing his leg in comfort. “Then we’ll go.” She smiles when he turns to look at her, his brows furrowed.

“You don’t have to come with me, it’s fine. I know work is busy.”

“Aaron.” She replies firmly, leaving no room for argument as she moves her hand from his leg to cup his cheek. “I’m coming with you.”

“What about the kids?”

“We’ll be gone one night. Theo is sensible enough to look after Amelia, and Jack lives 20 minutes away if they need him.” She pulls him towards her for a kiss. “Stop arguing with me, it never gets you anywhere.”

His lips twitch, a brief smile taking over. “You think I would have learnt that by now.” _______________

It takes a couple of weeks for them to get things lined up, so that the quick trip to New York wouldn’t disrupt their day-to-day lives too drastically.

Amelia was unimpressed when they told her that Theo was in charge, rolling her eyes at the thought that she needed babysitting, but when they come to leave her attitude fades when she sees how stressed her father was, how on edge he seems as he checks they have everything before they set off on their drive.

She doesn’t remember her Uncle Sean, she had only met him once when she was 3, and she knew enough from what her brothers and parents had told her about that trip to New York to know why she had never seen him again. Another seemingly life changing moment they went through as a family that she had no memory of, relying on hearsay from her brothers and the toned down version she knew her parents told her.

“Please behave for your brother, Amelia.” Emily says as she hugs her daughter.

“I always behave.” She replies, rolling her eyes when she sees her mother raise her eyebrow. “Ok fine, I’ll be good.”

Aaron hugs her next, and Amelia doesn’t miss how he holds her a little tighter than usual. She hugs him back, smiling when he kisses her forehead as they pull apart.

She feels bad for her dad, knowing how much he values his family tells her how much it would hurt him to not be in touch with his brother. Amelia considers how it would feel to not be speaking to Jack or Theo, and despite how much they both annoy her frequently the idea makes her heart clench.

“Call if you need anything, ok?” Aaron says and Amelia nods before pulling him back into a hug.

“I love you, Daddy.” She says, using the moniker she dropped a couple years ago and it makes her chest fill with happiness when he smiles into the top of her head.

“Love you too, Amelia.” ________________

The drive is long, and quiet, and by the time they pull up to the prison Emily is grateful to see it. Aaron had insisted on driving and she’d let him, knowing it would ultimately be worse for him to not be occupied on the trip here. She was planning on taking over when they left for their drive back to the city, but she hadn’t mentioned it yet, knowing that he would already try and argue that point.

They get through security and are shown to the visiting room. They take a seat next to each other and Emily turns to him, trying to read her husband’s face.

“Are you ok?”

He chuckles. “Ask me later.”

A buzzer sounds and a door opens, prisoners walking out and greeting their family and friends. Towards the back is Sean. Emily thinks of the first time she met him. He wasn’t much older than Amelia was now, and already damaged by the things he had been exposed to in his young life. She remembers how he had been nervous around her, a crush on her that he barely concealed.

“Aaron, Emily.” He says as he makes it to the table. Aaron stands and hugs him, and then Emily does the same.

“Sean, how are you?” Aaron asks as they sit down.

“As good as I can be considering I’ve been here nearly 10 years.” He says, his eyes fixed on his brother. He looks at them both. “You guys have hardly changed. How are the kids?”

“I have a picture.” Aaron says, pulling out his wallet and removing the photo of his family that he keeps in there. It was taken on Emily and Theo’s birthday the year before, her 50th and his 18th, all five of them and Sara together and smiling. It was one of his favourites. He slides it across the table to let his brother look at it.

“Wow, they look grown up.”

“It’s been a long time.” Aaron says, the conversation stilted. The awkwardness cloying, making the air around the table feel thick.

“Jack is 28 now, and married. That’s his wife, Sara, in the picture with us” Emily says, trying to break the tension. “Theo is 18 and Amelia is 12.”

Aaron is staring at his brother, profiling him as he listens to Emily talk about the kids. He watches as she explains that Jack is a resident at Georgetown, and that Theo was going to Cornell in the fall. He watches as his brother listens to her stories about Amelia, their wild thing of a daughter who kept them both on their toes. He recognises his brother's expression, it’s one he perfected when they were young, a way to get what he wanted from their mother. It clicks in his head, and he wonders why he didn’t think of it sooner.

“What do you want Sean?” He asks, interrupting the conversation between his wife and brother.

“Aaron-” Emily begins to say, uncertainty in her voice.

“He wants something. That's why he asked me to come here.” He looks back at his brother, and Sean chuckles slightly.

“You don’t miss anything do you? I’m up for parole soon.” Sean explains. “My lawyer said it would be good to have someone upstanding talk at my hearing, and I don’t know anyone more upstanding than you.”

“You want me to talk at your parole hearing? That’s why you got in touch?”

Emily feels how tense her husband gets next to her, the disappointment he clearly feels at Sean only getting in touch because he needed something palpable. She grabs his hand under the table, providing the best support she can in the moment. He lightly squeezes her hand in a silent thank you.

“Yeah. I told my lawyer what you do for a living and he said it was perfect.” Sean says, missing the way his brother sighs, the brief closing of his eyes as he tries to cover his disappointment. “So will you?”

“Of course.” Aaron replies, clearing his throat as he does. “Get your lawyer to send me the details.” He turns to Emily. “Excuse me for a second.”

He gets up and walks towards the bathroom. Emily turns her attention back to her brother-in-law.

“Are you kidding me, Sean?” She says, exasperated.

“What?” Sean asks, his face screwed up in confusion.

“It’s been 9 years.” She explains. “9 years and you reach out because you want something.”

“It’s thanks to him that I’m in here in the first place.”

“You know that’s not true, Sean.” Emily implores, and she stares at him until he relents and nods. “He’ll do it for you because he’s your brother and he loves you. But when you get out you will work on your relationship with him. I won’t let you use him for this and then disappear from our lives again.”

“Are you...threatening me, Emily?” He asks, an eyebrow raised at her in a way that reminded her of Aaron.

“Very much so.” She says seriously, before she smiles. “I’d also like you to get to know my kids better.”

“I’d like that too.” ________________

When they get to their hotel in the city he barely looks around the suite they have for the night before he goes into the bathroom. Emily sighs as she puts her bag down and goes to the mini bar, grabbing a drink for each of them.

She feels his arms wrap around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“Did I ever tell you that you’re my favourite wife?”

‘I’m your only wife.” She chuckles, turning to give him his drink.

“That works out well then.” He leans down and kisses her. “Thank you for today.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” She cups his neck, and strokes her thumb over his jawline. “My place has always been by your side.” Emily kisses him quickly. “Lets go sit down.”

She leads him over to the couch in the room, leaning against him as they get comfortable. They sit in silence for a while, having their drinks whilst his fingers trail up and down her arm.

“I let him down.” Aaron says eventually, making Emily turn to look at him, a curious look on her face. “Sean. I’ve been letting him down since we were kids.”

“Honey, you know that's not true.”

“It is. I left when he was young, I left him in that house with the ghost of our father and our shell of a mother.” He says bitterly, throwing back the rest of his drink.

Emily stares at him for a second before she takes his glass out of hand and places it with hers on the table next to the couch. She settles herself over his lap, straddling him in a way that makes him raise an eyebrow and place his hands on her hips. She cups his face in both her hands.

“Listen to me, Aaron. You are not to blame for any of this. You were a kid yourself, Theo’s age, and you wanted to start your own life. You are not responsible for your parents and what they did or didn’t do. Or for the decisions that Sean has made that has led him to where he is.” She looks directly into his eyes, looking for some understanding or agreement. “Ok?”

“Ok.” He nods his agreement, and she can tell he isn’t completely convinced, but it’s enough to placate her for now.

She still wants to cheer him up, so she changes tactics, moving her hands so she’s cupping the back of his head instead before she leans down to kiss him. She presses herself closer to him, signalling her intent, she smiles against his lips when he pulls her closer, his grip on her hips tightening.

“Let's go to bed.” She says, slightly breathless as she pulls away.

“I like the way you think, Mrs Hotchner.���

[boeswhore]

Hi s! Congrats again on 1.7k! May I please have a ship? Tbh idk how to consolidate a description of myself. I’m apologizing now. This is as consolidated as I can be. I’m a sun june born Gemini and moon and rising scorpio so I’m all the crazy and chaos.

I’m 5’4” ish. Dark brown curly hair but I have bleached highlights so I’m fake blonde withy natural roots. Green eyes. Eyebrow game strong ish. Pretty light skin despite living in Arizona lol. Very expressive face. I hated my hair growing up but I learned to love it and properly take care of it. Reasons I’m a sucker for curls.

Also a fruit cocktail according to my grandma since I’m mixed with a whole lotta stuff. Reasons I relate to turning red more than expected. Also why I screamed when Raya was announced since Southeast Asia doesn’t get a whole lotta representation. A giant family on all sides I know of. Also family in 13 states. They’re crazy but I love them. I’m the self proclaimed black and rainbow sheep.

My style isn’t very consistent tbh. Like one day I could be in my pop punk/emo clothes but the next in super bright and colorful east coast prep vibes clothes. But then I have a variety of clothes to disneybound in. And Disney and other pop culture shirts and such. I wear pretty much whatever I want. My sweatshirt collection hit 50 finally. I think. I live in my Birkenstock’s during the summer and my various boots in the winter. Also for games. I collect loungefly and similar fandom purses. Mostly tangled and Disney.

Hobbies besides hockey: arts and crafts (so many mainly - watercolor, stamping and embossing, printmaking (making stamps and stencils and such), drawing, cricut machine, card making, etc), bullet journal (art/junk/mindfulness journal and planner), music (will elaborate), Disney (tangled and turning red), crime and medial and first responder shows (greys, station 19, castle, the 9-1-1s), horror, coffee and tea, self care, writing (duh), milkshakes, and traveling.

Main hockey teams: flames, kraken, Canucks, devils, avs, canes. But I love various players on teams throughout the league. The sh*t list: Pittsburgh, Edmonton, TB, Boston, chi town.

My music tastes gives me whiplash. Disney, pop punk, show tunes (selective but six is queen), metalcore, pop, emo and other similar genres, bimbocore, alt, indie, more subgenres than even I can remember. I have a record player and my vinyls are only albums I’m willing to listen all the way through. I love(d) going to concerts. I’m a flower princess. Glitter, sequins, flower crown. Top artists: set it off, grayscale, ice nine kills, Taylor swift, scene queen, as it is, with confidence, the summer set, and softcult.

24 almost 25. Seattle native, uni outside Philly, currently a desert queen in AZ. Energetic ball of chaos. Unhinged. Vibes of: Mabel pines, rapunzel, like half of the castle cast, dug form up, april and Amelia and Meredith with a dash of Arizona from greys, mei and Abby and Miriam from turning red. Sarcastic and slightly dark and definitely self deprecating sense of humor. Chronic migraines with anxiety, adhd, and insomnia thrown in. I put my heart and soul into everything I love and do.

Thank you again and I am very sorry for how long this is but anything shorter won’t capture my true self. You can ask ally lol. You are absolutely amazing for reading all of this and for hosting this event. 😘 stay fabulous

hihi m, i love you so much always 💗

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i ship you with matthew tkachuk !

i read that you love curls hair part and my mind immediately went to him once i saw you like the flames ! the style you have goes so well with matthew. this guy has no solid outfit plan, he’ll be dressed up so sophisticated one day and literally look like he just rolled out of bed the next day but i can see you both having complimentary outfits ! i can see him living in sweatshirts so that makes the two of you as well ! when it comes to hobbies; he would love that you know the rules of hockey and would love for you to come root for him during each game he plays !also i know he would be so supportive and sweet over any art make ! omg i can also see him crafting with you and both of you having like little competitions on whose work is better (obviously yours duh) but it will legit become his favourite past time hobby as well, just creating all of these art works (you’re so freaking creative it’s insane) he would also love that you don’t like oilers since the battle of alberta and all so that’s also a plus side ;) definitely lots of concerts together, i can see him belting to disney music with you ! when it comes to ur migraines i just know he’s super caring and will try his best to comfort you and get you anything you need ! overall, the cutest couple in my eyes <3

[doc-pickles]

that was our place, I found it first

in which alex and jo both struggle with their new realities and that overwhelming sense of deja vu....

hey hi hello this isn’t new (it’s been on AO3 for a hot minute) but I hadn’t shared it here so enjoy. and everyone say thank you to olivia rodrigo.

It’s three weeks into his stay in Kansas when the weight of his new reality hits him square in the chest. He’d wrangled both kids inside and sent them to wash up, quickly changing out of his scrubs before meeting Eli, Alexis, and Izzie at the dinner table. He’s about to ask how the day has been for everyone but he’s stopped dead in his tracks, the words slipping from his mind.

“Hey, you're invited to Mer's for Thanksgiving.”

“Really?”

“I'm invited and, uh, I'm bringing you.”

“The attendings are gonna be weird if I'm there.”

“No, they're not.”

“Just go without me. We'll meet up after.”

“You think I wanna be there if you're not.”

“You're sweet.”

“Okay, screw it. How about we get takeout chicken and eat it in the car like we were raised to do?”

“I think I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, settle down.”

The sound of his daughter’s voice brings Alex back to the present, eyes moving from the platter of fried chicken in the center of the table to Alexis who’s staring at him in confusion. He quickly plasters a smile on his face, making a joke at his daughter’s expense that makes both children giggle loudly. Dinner passes by quickly and soon both kids are off to bed, visions of a bright eyed brunette intern closing Alex’s mind as he cleans the kitchen.

+

“Auntie Jo!”

The exclamation from Zola sends all three Grey Shepherd kids hurtling across the room to wrap their arms around Jo’s legs. Struggling to keep her balance, Jo let out a laugh as she listened to each child bombard her with questions. She hadn’t seen them for almost two months so the attack was unavoidable but not unwanted as she let the kids contagious joy bring a wide smile to her face.

“Hey, glad you could make it,” Link appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, Scout wriggling in his arms. “I’m not much of a cook but there’s fresh coffee and donuts. I got them from that place that’s on...”

Link’s voice faded out as Jo’s eyes settled on the pink bakery box behind him, the children clinging to her forgotten as her mind drifted.

“Cheers to an incredible day. You deserve it. Actually, I helped, too. So cheers to us.”

“Hey, powdered sugar's your favorite.”“Yeah, no. This is great. Thanks.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“So it’s been a long morning around here,” Link, oblivious to the far off look in Jo’s eyes, finished his thought off before turning back to his friend. “Can I get you some coffee? You look tired, no offense.”

Jo nodded her head, shaking off the last foggy visions of the supply closet from her mind as she hoisted Ellis onto her hip, “Coffee sounds perfect, thanks Link.”

+

“You know, maybe we should just head down to the courthouse, make things official.”

Alex’s head snapped up from the bowl of cereal in front of him, eyes wide as he stared at Izzie who was packing lunches for Eli and Alexis. Her comment was nonchalant, eyes not even leaving the lunch bags in front of her as she continued the thought.

“It might make things easier than going through a big fuss, plus it’s close to the hospital so it wouldn’t be super out of the way,” Izzie finally looked at Alex who was staring at her in shock still. “What do you think?”

“I don’t even know if my divorce has gone through yet, I think getting married is jumping the gun a bit Iz,” Alex forced the words out of his mouth, heart pounding loudly as Izzie began to laugh. “What? What’s so funny?”

“I meant go down to the courthouse to get you on the kids paperwork,” Izzie stifled another laugh as Alex let out a breath of relief, his heart rate coming down significantly. “Geez, what kind of backwoods tacky idea is a courthouse wedding anyways?”

Alex’s mind began to drift as visions of vampire teeth and fake blood on a day not too long ago filled his mind.

“For better or worse...”

“For better or worse.”

"...for richer or poorer...”

“For richer or... pregnant.”

“What?”

“I'm pregnant.... Ha! Scared you! I got you so good.”

“Wait. You're not pregnant?”

“No. Oh, my God, you should've seen your face.”

“... so I told Jenny we’d swing by around 8,” Izzie looks expectantly to Alex, who’s coming out of his mental dog and still staring into his cereal bowl. “Alex? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” his eyes flit to the living room where Eli and Alexis are playing a game, loud peels of laughter coming from them. His heart twisted for a moment, picturing Jo between the two children playing along with them as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah I’m good.”

+

“You’re just the cutest baby in the whole wide world aren’t you,” Jo’s voice was a soft coo as she rocked a drowsy Scout in her arms, the loud voices of his cousins outside drowned out as they stood in the living room. “You’re gonna be handsome just like your daddy and so smart like your mama. I don’t know what those two are gonna do with you.”

“You’re a natural you know,” Jo’s head popped up, meeting Amelia’s gaze as she leaned against the doorframe of the living room. “He won’t even fall asleep for Maggie.”

“Well Auntie Jo just has the magic touch,” Jo pressed a finger against Scout’s cheek, the infant curling closer to the new source of warmth. “Maybe that’s why OB sounds so appealing, all the babies I get to hold and love on since I’m clearly not having any of my own anytime soon.”

A low chuckle left Amelia as she crossed the room and grabbed Scout from Jo, the little boy nuzzling into his mother’s chest contentedly, “Don’t count yourself out. I wouldn’t put it past you to become a mom sooner rather than later.”

Jo watched Amelia walk towards Scout’s room, her mind thinking back to a time when having her own kids wasn’t just a far off dream.

“I'm ready. I mean, let's do it. Let's make a baby, right now.”

“Are you out of your mind? We’re not having a baby!”

“I want to have kids with you. I love how much you care for Kimmie, and it really makes me want to have kids with you. And if it's okay with you, I would really like to take your last name. Because I've never had the last name of anyone who's loved me.”

“I'm sorry I talked about kids on our honeymoon. It was stupid. It was just... you were talking about the future and snow stuff, and it just popped into my head. Like, I could see our kids playing in the snow, having fun, which is... You know, kids, snow. It makes sense.”

“Alex, shut up, please. I-I have an idea, a big idea, and I love you, and I will love all of our children, or at least one child eventually.”

“We're in the baby hat place? Are you pregnant and you didn't tell me?”

“She asked me if we wanted kids, and I said yes because we do. And she's making the hats extra big because I had an extra big head.”

The thoughts in her head overwhelm Jo, heart beating erratically as she collapses onto the couch in a fit of tears she hadn’t realized were falling. Eventually Amelia comes back, silently bringing Jo into her embrace as her tears fall. She doesn’t know how long she sits there crying, begging any higher being that would listen for Alex to come back so they could have the family they so desperately wanted.

+

“There’s a storm brewing! Expect two to three days of nonstop rain and wind in the North Eastern Kansas area, this storm is not letting up.”

Alex’s eyes floated to the window of his office, the news report blaring from his laptop fading as he focused on the rain hitting the glass. He’d lived in Seattle for a large majority of his life, he should be more than used to the sight of rain. Instead though the water dripping down reminded him of another storm years earlier, a storm that changed his life.

“Listen, I have to tell you something.”

“No, you don't.”

“You don't even know what I'm gonna say.”

“I think I do, and you shouldn't.”

“Jo…”

“I'll mess it up, Alex. I mess everything good in my life up, and... we work as friends really well, and... and I don't wanna mess that up.”

“You won't mess anything up.”

The memory fades from his mind as a knock sounds on the door of his office, one of his attendings hurtling questions at him a mile a minute. Jo’s bruised face and beaming smile haunt his thoughts for the rest of the day though, the feeling of her lips on his haunting him as he attempted to keep his head screwed on straight.

+

“Watch out Seattle! Another super soaker is in the area. Local officials are advising everyone to stay off the roads until this storm passes. If you have an emergency or need to leave…”

“Great, we’re going to get the whole of Seattle’s dumbasses in the ER tonight,” Bailey’s voice broke Jo out of her trance as she stared at the TV in the attendings lounge, fingers absentmindedly twisting the necklace around her neck. “Wilson, keep an eye on the NICU for me. If the power goes out we’ll need to keep an eye on those babies.”

Jo nodded, leaving the lounge in a daze as her mind brought up her first Seattle superstorm and a night not unlike tonight that changed everything.

“Last night, before the tree, you asked me a question. You wanted to hear me say the words. So I'm... Saying them right now.”

“I don't hear anything.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, but…”

“I'm... I'm serious.”

“Fine.”

“I love you.”

The words still echoed around her, the storm drowned out by the look on Alex’s face as they finally shared a kiss that felt like it was years in the making. That night changed everything for them, it started them off on a crazy eight year rollercoaster that despite its tragic ending Jo wouldn’t change for the world. As she walked the halls of Grey Sloan she was reminded of countless memories between them, their whole relationship playing out in the hallways of this hospital. A light feeling settled in Jo’s chest, the memories for once bringing a smile to her face instead of sending her into a crying fit. Maybe that dreaded sense of deja vu wasn’t always a bad thing…

[jazy3]

Thoughts on Grey’s Anatomy: 17X8

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

I freakin’ loved this episode! It was so so good! Which surprised me considering what they focused on. Based on the promo I knew that this would be DeLuca’s goodbye episode and so I expected to like the other parts of the episode we were shown in the promo such as Hayes talking to Meredith at her bedside, Richard’s storyline, and Derek’s return. However, I was not expecting to enjoy any part of DeLuca’s farewell storyline and I was pleasantly surprised. I think that’s because they focused on the effects of grief and guilt and how everyone processes those emotions differently.

It was a really interesting character study on how each person feels a loss in their own way. Despite not liking the character I actually found DeLuca’s memorial service quite moving. I think it was because they found a creative way to do it and because funerals in the real world like we normally do aren't possible right now. My grandfather died last summer and while he didn’t want a funeral my family and I weren’t able to get together to mourn his loss as we usually would and that’s been hard.

I wasn’t particularly close with my grandfather, but the loss of traditional grieving rituals in this time of COVID-19 has been frustrating. I liked that they found a creative way to have the characters mourn the loss of a fellow staff member. I expected to see Carina more, but as I understand it her storyline played out more on Station 19 which makes sense. I felt like they did a good job of showing the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance) and how everyone experiences them differently.

Teddy and Owen displayed survivors' guilt and frustration that they did everything right and he still died. At the end we see Teddy in a catatonic state and it made me think that she might be sick with COVID herself or that there was something else wrong. While I've never been a Teddy and Owen shipper I did like the moment at the end where Owen noticed something was wrong and came over to her and told her that he would take her home and when she didn't respond he picked her up and carried her.

It reminded me of the Season 2 episode where Denny dies and Izzie refuses to leave his side so Alex picks her up and carries her over to a chair in her prom dress. Very different relationships, but a nice parallel in my opinion. This episode had a lot of those. Teddy seeing DeLuca in other people’s faces was freaky! I have to say that guy is way more interesting as a ghost then he ever was alive.  

I totally got Helm's reaction. I understand why she said and thought those horrible things about DeLuca. He was an ass for a really long time. I probably would have done the same thing myself, but that doesn't mean she wanted him dead. I thought what Maggie did for her was wonderful. My heart broke for Schmitt when he described his emotions. Richard was angry and Bailey went overboard trying to figure out what happened. Everyone's experience of a loss is different and I like that they showed that.

I’m glad that Richard told Bailey what she needed to hear. It was painful, but in trying to find an answer or a reason for what happened she was unintentionally hurting the people around her who were suffering too. The strength of Richard and Bailey's relationship is that they can tell each other the truth when no one else can or will. I loved his monologue to Catherine about trying to find a meaning in the puzzle of life and questioning his faith which is such a big part of his sobriety. James Pickens Jr. did a beautiful job in that scene.

Say what you want about Catherine, but I loved her response. Richard was trying to find meaning in the meaningless and in response she shared with him that her latest scans showed that the cancer hadn’t grown. Logically it should have, but it didn’t. Sometimes there are miracles and sometimes there are senseless deaths. Life is a puzzle. We don’t always understand it. That was exactly what Richard needed to hear in that moment.

On a more upbeat note, I loved the beach scenes this week! They were perfect! They were everything I dreamed of for my favourite characters and more! We got to see Derek and Meredith get closer and talk about the kids. When Meredith is heartbroken that Derek never got to meet Ellis or to know her he tells her all of these wonderful things about her. How she’s just like Meredith and makes it clear that he’s watching over them always.

He talks about Zola and how she writes to him in her journal and how Meredith taught her to ride a bike. I teared up! I've been waiting for them to discuss the kids and here it is! Hearing Derek talk about Ellis and knowing that he watches over Meredith and the kids was so emotional for me. I loved hearing him describe who she is and getting to learn more about her. I'm glad he encouraged her to go back. As much as Derek and Meredith miss each other she's needed back in the land of the living.

Her kids need her and so does everyone else. I loved Derek's gentle teasing. His facial expressions. And then there are her scenes with Hayes! God they were perfect! I've been waiting for this! I loved how Meredith kept joyfully asking him what he did to make Ellis smile so wide and laugh so loudly. She knows he can't hear her yet there she is dying to know what he said or did. The sound of her voice when she said that was everything for me. They already feel like a couple. So much in sync.

I love that Derek, who was shown to be extremely jealous in life, encouraged her to hear Hayes out. I really felt like he was giving her his blessing and the fact that they established that Hayes has met the kids virtually and they know who he is sealed the deal for me. Hayes has now received Cristina’s approval, Derek’s blessing, and is shown to have positive relationships with Meredith’s friends and family in Seattle. I loved that Hayes told Meredith to fight and talked about how her kids were doing and how everyone needs her.

I loved that he came and sat at her bedside and begged her to fight and not give up and that he talked to her even though he wasn’t sure if she could hear him. I love that he sat with her through the virtual memorial even though he wasn’t close to DeLuca and didn’t like him. The cheerful greeting and familiarity with which he greets Amelia and Zola and the stories he tells Meredith indicates that he’s been having regular video chats with Amelia, Maggie, Link, and the kids and that he’s chosen to stay by Meredith’s side when he just as easily could have left while she was on a call with her kids.  

It will also make the transition easier when do start dating because the kids will already know him. The music in this episode was really beautiful. Especially the songs that played during the beach scenes. I really enjoyed the drunken Link, Jo, and Jackson scene. I felt it brought much needed levity and humour to the episode the same way the beer scene with Jackson, Link, and Winston did in the previous episode. Their scenes were funny and raw and provided a good balance for the episode.

I also loved seeing more of Jo and Jackson's friends with benefits relationship and more of Jo and Link and Jackson and Link's friendship. I'd actually forgotten that Jackson and Link were friends so it was cool to see that dynamic again and that Link is supportive of their situation. The drinking game to me felt like a throwback to the Season 2 episode where Meredith and Cristina are at Joe’s Bar playing a game of whose life sucks the most and she tells them that Derek is married and Cristina tells her she’s pregnant. These revelations eventual lead to Cristina scheduling an abortion and declaring Meredith her person.

It was cool to see Maggie and Winston working together at Grey Sloan Memorial. Winston living in Boston was only going to go on for so long because as we've all found out this past year there's only so much you can do virtually. I knew he'd be moving to Seattle at some point and I'm glad to see him working at the hospital and hanging with Maggie's family. The scene where he danced it out with the kids was too cute! I'll be interested to see more of their dynamic moving forward as Maggie used to be his teacher and is now his boss. I'm also glad that both Winston and Hayes are finally getting the proper screen time they deserve.

Their storyline with the naked guy cracked me up! My two favourite lines of the episode were when the guy freaked out because he realized he wasn’t wearing his mask and Maggie said, “You’re not wearing much of anything.” And when Maggie and Winston went looking for him and Zander Perez, the resident from Pac North, told them, “If you’re looking for a naked guy he went that way.” I laughed so hard!

The scenes with Zola got me. She is a real trouper. She definitely is Meredith Grey's daughter through and through. I'm a big believer in found family and one of the things Grey's does really is show that there are many different ways to be a family and that family is what you make of it. True family is made up of the people who love and support you unconditionally not genetics. I really love that they've shown the strength of that bond between Zola and her family.

My favourite hidden moment of the episode was Tom! He appears in the background at DeLuca's memorial which means he's getting better. If he's well enough to be outside at the memorial then his condition has greatly improved since last we saw and that's great! Tom's a wonderfully complex character and I'm glad he's doing better. He appears in a bunch of deleted scenes that were released through the Grey’s Anatomy Twitter account which I highly recommend. The writing in this episode was excellent!

This episode was written by Adrian Wenner whose previous credits include the Season 16 episode ‘A Hard Pill to Swallow’ in which Meredith and Hayes work that vaping case together and get to know each for the first time. Honestly, my only complaint about this episode is that I wish they’d done it sooner! I wish they had bumped this and the previous episode up. The Mid-Season Finale felt very anti-climatic to me and was poorly received by a lot of fans. I wish they had just scrapped that episode or combined it with what we saw in the Mid-Season Premiere and then jumped into this episode after the break. But we’re here now and that’s the important thing.

Onto next week’s promo. Damn does it look interesting! We see that Owen has brought Teddy home and she’s not eating or speaking and he’s worried if her condition does not improve he’ll have to admit her. I’m sure he’s having flashbacks to when Cristina did the same thing after the plane crash. She appears to be experiencing some kind of nightmare sequence where she sees DeLuca as a ghost and Meredith speaks to her. Looks intense!

Until next time!

[that-scouse-wizard]

Tigress and Hound, a Friendship in Many Parts. (Part 1)

[A/N: Hi everyone, this is just going to be a little series of loosely connected one-shots mostly based on ideas I and @judediangelo75 have discussed about our characters. Essentially, a catalogue of David and Judith’s friendship, from humble and slightly awkward beginnings to the epic duo that they are. Hope you all enjoy!

Summary: The introduction between the duo who will become known as the Tigress and the Hound. 

Word count: 2151

MC friends: Judith Harris (@judediangelo75) 

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

1st of September, 1985 (second year)

David

Thick steam hung in the air, courtesy of the Hogwarts Express as David made the familiar first steps onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Two other pairs of footsteps following close behind him.

“Wow!” Came the fascinated tone of Amelia, grey eyes on a swivel. Marvelling at the bright red train, the throngs of witches and wizards with their parents, and even at how they entered into this new place for the muggleborn witch, “We just went through a wall, we just went through a wall!” The young witch was practically bouncing with excitement

“This brings back memories...” David’s father, Matthew sighed nostalgically, giving a chuckle at Amelia’s attitude.

A smile tugged at the corner of David’s lips fondly, "And next year, you'll be coming with me to Hogwarts, Amy." He said as he pushed his luggage cart through the dense crowd that thankfully was parting in the wake of his trolley. Though Goliath didn’t seem to appreciate the rattling, the owl giving an annoyed chirp. One that David didn't pay any mind to, his owl was always in a bad mood when confined to a cage.

After handing his luggage over to be loaded onto the train, he turned to his father and soon-to-be step-sister, "I'll see you guys at Christmas then."

"Right, until then." Matthew said, sticking his hand out, “Best of luck to you, do well in school and please stay out of trouble.” David looked down at it, deciding he would cut his dad some slack. He ignored the outstretched limb, going in for a hug. 

“I’ll try dad.” David said as he pulled away from his now-surprised father, giving Amelia one too, one that the young witch happily returned.  He stepped onto the train, giving one last wave to them, now all he needed to do was find a compartment. 

“Oh, David, over here!” Came a familiar voice, the source of it being a beaming Penny Haywood, “We have a seat going spare, would you like to join us?” 

“Sure, cheers Pen.” David grinned, counting himself lucky he’d found a seat so soon, and with good company to boot. He soon found out the identity of the other two people who were occupying the area he would be sharing with Penny.

One was Rowan, who’s face lit up at the sight of her best friend, in letters they had exchanged she had detailed her own research into the Cursed Vaults. David would gladly listen if it brought him closer to finding Jacob. 

The second person was someone both familiar yet not. Dark skin, pale gold eyes, there was no mistaking who it was as David froze in place. Judith Harris, Jamal Harris’s little sister, a boy who had been a friend of Jacob’s. A person who had also gone missing alongside him. 

What exactly were they supposed to say to each other? ‘Hi, our brothers went missing together, let’s be friends!’ As if to make things even more uncomfortable, Penny took a seat, leaving the only one for David to occupy situated directly opposite Judith. 

 Just great...

Judith glanced at him as he sat down next to Penny, a mixture of shy and wary. The train soon pulled away from the station, “Oh, you two haven’t met before, have you? David, this is Judith Harris. Judith, meet David Willows.”

“Hi...” She said shyly, her voice so soft David almost didn’t hear.

“Likewise.” He said coolly in response, trying not to sound like he really didn’t want to be forced into an interaction. It didn’t help that Penny and Rowan had now struck up a conversation about potions, leaving David and Judith to avert their gazes from each other. David was seriously regretting his choice to not bring a textbook or something to distract himself with. At least then he’d have an excuse not to make eye contact.

“What were you guys up to over the summer?” He asked, not completely rude on his part but at least the question wasn’t just directed at Judith. David could have sworn Rowan sent a quick glance Penny’s way, as if she knew something he didn’t before his question was answered.

“I worked on some potions as some extra homework for professor Snape.” David smirked at Penny’s answer, should have expected that, her love of potions was as uncommon as her admiration for their normally dour professor.

“Well you already know what I’ve been up to.” Rowan stated excitedly, “I’ve been taking a closer look into Hogwarts’s history, aside from Sir Cadogan and a couple of other mentions in portraits of the castle, there’s nothing much about knights. Especially not about-” Rowan was quickly cut off when Penny slapped a hand over her mouth. 

“Especially not about...?” Judith asked curiously. David internally swore, the last thing he needed was more people involved in the Cursed Vaults business... even if she did have a personal stake in it herself.

“The weapons that they used!” Penny answered, taking back her hand as Rowan gave the blonde a brief glare, “David is interested in muggle weaponry, he knows about maintaining and how to use a shotgun.” She elaborated

“That’s right and Judith can use Dao swords.” Rowan said, trying to shore up the ploy, “Come to think of it, David knows how to fight hand-to-hand as well, and so does Judith.”

“Really?” David cocked an eyebrow at that, a clear interest in his tone encountering another magic user with any knowledge of non-magical self-defence was definitely rare in wizarding world.

“I do Tae Kwon Do.” Judith confirmed, though she did give a slightly pointed look to the other two for giving away that fact about her.

“Muay Thai.” David clarified succinctly.  

“What’s the difference?” Rowan asked, confused. That was when David and Judith were united, giving their mutual friend an incredulous look, then turning back to each other. A silent understanding passing between the two, Rowan Khanna not knowing about the differences in their respective fighting styles simply would not do.

“Ro, how would you like to learn something new?” David’s fellow Hufflepuff looked surprised, eyes widening at his question. A grin slowly spread across her face, all too eager to be educated.

“That has to be the best thing you’ve ever said to me, yes please.”

-----

Judith

It had taken a while for the two of them to explain the differences and similarities between their respective styles but Rowan had hung on their every word. Excitedly writing down notes and asking various follow-up questions. Even after it had ended, their fellow Hufflepuff still eagerly went over her bullet points.

David had even seemed a bit interested in hearing about Tae Kwon Do and she couldn’t deny, Muay Thai certainly seemed effective as a fighting style. Then... despite something they could have potentially bonded over, David had opted to sleep the rest of the journey off. 

Judith was somewhat glad for the relief from the awkwardness on though she couldn’t deny she was somewhat miffed at his rudeness. Although, with him softly snoring as his head was lolled back, and Penny having fallen asleep against him, now would be the best time to ask Rowan anything she needed to without the threat of interruption.

“Rowan, what were you going to say before?” She asked. Immediately, her friend stiffened, turning to face her like a deer caught in headlights.

“Nothing.” She answered quickly.

“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Judith retorted quietly, her tone making it clear she wasn’t in the mood for games.

Rowan paused, glancing at the two friends opposite her while briefly mulling it over, and answering nervously, “Alright, fine. We’re looking into the Cursed Vaults. David didn’t want anyone else involved so I didn’t tell you...” She trailed off, noticing her friend’s fists had curled up.

Judith took a deep breath to calm herself. Her first year had been uneventful aside from bullying that came from being Jamal’s relative. She hadn’t uncovered anything about the vaults and now she knew why. David Willows had been keeping secrets. 

“Judith, I’m sorry-” Rowan began but was swiftly cut off.

“I’m not mad at you, Rowan.” Judith said reassuringly, “Any issues I’ve got is between me and David.” Rowan seemed to accept that answer, distracting herself with looking out the window as the train weaved through the countryside. The sky being lit up orange indicated it wouldn’t be long before they reached Hogwarts.

Judith focused on David. On one hand she could understand him not bringing her into the fold in searching for his brother. On the other, if Jacob Hall was found, then maybe Jamal wouldn’t be far behind. If there was a chance of getting her own brother back, she would gladly take it. She’d need to get him alone, the question was how.

That was something she would need to ponder...

------

David stirred from his sleep, being awoken by the high-pitched screech of the train’s brakes as it pulled into Hogsmeade station. Blinking sleepily, he could have sworn he saw Judith staring at him, though her head was turned away from him by the time he next looked so he couldn’t be too sure.

There was no rush for any of them, their path being blocked by throngs of students eager to be off the train. From bright-eyed first years to seventh years who looked quite nostalgic at the thought of this being one of their last journeys on Hogwart’s Express.

Eventually, the crowd cleared, leaving their group straggling behind as they tried to follow the flow of the crowd. Hagrid’s tell-tale call for the first years sounded out as they stepped into the chilly air of the September night. In contrast to the first years who would make their voyage across the Black Lake, the older Hogwarts students would be taking carriages up to the castle grounds.

They made their way through the lit, paved streets of Hogsmeade, Rowan excitedly pointing out some of the wizarding village’s landmarks such as the Three Broomsticks. One of the carriages passed by, bound to pick up students that were further ahead. David wondered if they were enchanted, seeing as there was nothing pulling them.

Penny broke into a light jog as they approached the lane the carriages would initially travel down, waving for one of them to hold on. There was just one issue, the carriage in question already had four students, there were just two seats left for any additional passengers. 

“Sorry everyone.” Penny said, scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

“David and I can stay behind.” Judith offered, taking a hold of his arm. David gave her a puzzled look, prompting to lean in and whisper in his ear, “There’s something you and I need to talk about.”

He understood, keeping her out of the loop had finally caught up with him, “Pen, Ro, go ahead.” David spoke up. Reluctantly, Penny and Rowan climbed aboard the carriage. 

David turned to Judith as the transport pulled away, not speaking up until the clicking of the wheels had disappeared. Leaving the two of them alone on the paved lane, “What do you want?” He asked shortly.

“Answers,” Judith shot back, “I know you’ve been looking into the Cursed Vaults, I want in on it.”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” He answered curtly, hoping that would throw her off.

“Rowan told me.” She clarified.

“Listen to me,” David began after a brief pause to gather his thoughts, “The vaults are my business, no one else’s. If I had my way, no one but I would’ve gotten involved in them.”

“And now you have at least Rowan helping out, so what difference does one more person make?” Judith asked rhetorically.

“Because my brother-” David began before Judith cut him off.

“Our brothers, like it or not David, you’re not the only one with a personal stake in this. Please, I want to find my brother just as much as you want to find yours, it makes no sense for us not to work together.” She stated, “Look, Rowan and Penny like you, so I want to trust you, all you need to do is trust me.” She finished, sticking her hand out.

Having more people to help out could be beneficial but still David was unsure...

“Please.” Judith sniffled, sounding somewhat desperate.

David was take aback by that, feeling a pang of sympathy for his fellow Hufflepuff, this really was important to Judith. He sighed in resignation before clasping Judith’s hand with his own.

“Fine, I don’t know how this is goin’ to go between you and me but if you’ve got my back, I’ve got yours.”

Judith’s face lit up in gratitude at his answer, nearly knocking him off his feet as she slammed into him with a brief hug, 

“Thank you.”

David chuckled at that, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all...  

[3laxx]

When the Dream ends - Chapter 3

Luz and Amity have a sleepover and Boscha has a breakdown

TRIGGER WARNING - BLOOD - INJURY - PANIC ATTACK

For everyone who is easily triggered by panic or panic attacks, I recommend not reading any further than the Lumity part of this chapter. You won't need the entire Boscha part, just know she's incredibly distraught and has a lot of confusing emotions about fault and making up for it. She has a full-blown panic attack (actually I wrote myself into one thanks to this) and I recommend continuing on your own responsibility. There will be more on Boscha's state and her feelings on the situation in a calmer and safer scene later on. You won't miss anything if you skip this part. A lot of it was already mentioned in the actual scene of the accident and Amity's nightmare. Boscha's feelings will resurface later on and you will know how she feels in future chapters if you don't feel comfortable reading panic attacks with physical reactions.

I'M SERIOUS. ONLY READ IF YOU FEEL ABSOLUTELY SURE, THERE'S NO SHAME IN NOT READING IT.

Ao3 / FF.net

---

It still took Luz a few days to walk by herself again and she hated every second.

Well, not the seconds when Eda and King were visiting. And she loved every second Amity spent with her. And she also enjoyed all the seconds while Willow and Gus were visiting.

Skara, Cat, and Amelia had also paid her a visit and Luz had enjoyed having them all over. They were gentle and careful around her and even helped her get up once to get some snacks from down the hall, even if Amity had protested them carrying Luz.

In the end, it had been a lot of fun though, and they had giggled all the while two of them carried her to the vending machine and two carried her back by interlocking their hands and having Luz sit on them while wrapping her arms around their necks.

Amity had helped to carry her back and Luz had grinned at her constantly, knowing the girl had needed to warm up to her old friends showing up and not being bullies.

Viney, Jerbo, and Barcus had also shown up for a short visit, and Luz and Amity had coincidentally invited over Edric and Emira at the same time, giggling to themselves when Emira had started flirting with the unamused Viney until she had shot back a flirty line only to leave Emira a hot mess.

So, she guessed she didn’t hate every single second of it.

But the walking, the slow progress, and the lonely nights had been horrible.

When she had finally gotten the permission to leave, she had celebrated, even if Eda had put her under strict supervision over the weekend before letting her back to Hexside. She didn’t mind, though.

Strict supervision usually meant games, snacks, and movies, and having friends over once Eda had to get some stuff, run her business of human phenomena or do undisclosed business at undisclosed places.

So, Luz was super happy to be back in the Owl House over the weekend, naturally. With Eda’s permission, she had quickly invited Amity, Willow, and Gus over, but Willow and Gus had other things on their schedule – something about a forgotten homework and some tunnel Gus was babbling about, even if Luz had thought his tunnel underneath Hexside had already been finished.

Having Amity over was really cool, too. Especially since Eda had already announced she’d be out this evening, so she was looking forward to watching a movie and spending the evening with Amity.

 ---

“So, what do you wanna watch?”, Luz began, already grinning at Amity. The girl just shrugged at that, a small smile on her lips. “Your descriptions were a little-… Enthusiastic. Why don’t we just watch something you wanna watch?”

Luz grimaced at that and then pouted at Amity, causing her to chuckle.

“But I like all of these movies! Giving me the choice would break me!”

Amity immediately pointed at a random cover then, her eyes blown wide. She absolutely didn’t want Luz to break over something like this. The girl laughed.

“Okay, that one. That’s the super cute romance!”

Amity suppressed a sigh. Well, this was going to be easy, right?

She only had to make it through 2 hours of two characters getting together, kissing, building up chemistry, without projecting it onto her and Luz.

Already flushing, Amity pressed herself into the backrest and pulled up the blanket while Luz prepared the movie on her magic box, before returning to the couch as well with quite some effort and sitting close to Amity, close enough so she could steal the other half of Amity blanket.

Yelping, she tried hiding her face, then she looked up.

“… Is that too warm for you?”, the teenager asked her, obviously referring to Amity’s red face, but she quickly shook her head while the movie began, trying a smile.

“N-No! I like that.”

Luz smiled and grabbed the snack box, putting it between their thighs on top of the blanket, then the first scene started playing. A short-haired girl introduced herself, and the human world she was living in, before saying she was different than all the others. She was a lesbian.

Immediately, Amity suppressed rolling her eyes.

Suited her right that she had to pick the gay movie.

Luz already giggled at the introduction, then she turned to Amity, way closer than she had expected, making her blush. She was just glad the lights were dimmed now.

“That’s so cliché. I like this movie, but it stays as shallow with the LGBTQ community throughout.”

Amity tried controlling her blazing face.

“Wh-What do you mean?”

Luz shrugged at that, leaning back again and Amity felt herself relaxing, thankfully, “You know, all the drama about it. In movies like these, it’s a huge deal to be gay, and it’s either the scared, closeted character or the over-the-top gay who acts extra. There’s so much more to LGBTQ than that. I was actually quite glad that homosexuality isn’t as big a deal on the Boiling Isles as it is in the human realm. I don’t think it’s even recognized as different here, is it?”

Amity furrowed her eyebrows at that.

“It’s a problem to like the same gender in the human realm?”

For a few minutes, Luz watched the movie when the introduction was over and the story began, then she sighed and shrugged.

“That’s a topic for another time, I suppose.”, she finally said and Amity softly took her hand. Something in Luz’s words sounded heavy, clouded by something that must’ve happened. Pressing pause, Luz looked over to Amity and she slanted her lips.

“Are you sure?”, she finally asked and the human hummed, then she nodded.

“Yes. Don’t worry, I never had problems with that, because my mother is really open-minded and nobody else knew I was bi. But for many others, it’s a huge problem. It’s even a crime to be gay in some places. You’ll see what’s about it in that movie. Let’s just watch?”

Despite the worrying information about the human realm, Amity couldn’t help but replay that one thing Luz had said all over again in her head, even when the movie started picking up and the story got interesting.

She had hoped that Luz was interested in the same gender as well, even if she hadn’t really minded because, in her home, the different sexualities didn’t really matter. But hearing Luz confirming that she wasn’t straight was a relief, almost.

The longer the movie carried on, with the main character starting to chat with another gay girl online, getting problems keeping their sexuality a secret, and finally, everyone turning away from her when it came out. Amity followed the movie wide-eyed, learning how problematic it apparently was in the human realm, while Luz’s head got heavier and heavier.

She still couldn’t concentrate long on something, partly because of her ADHD but also because of the accident. Her mind needed rest.

When it finally got too much, her head dropped on Amity’s shoulder and she finally relaxed. With her head secured, she adjusted the rest of her body now, wrapping one arm across her lap, then she smiled softly and dozed off.

She couldn’t even notice Amity freezing up and blushing furiously again. And she didn’t see Amity’s eyes widening, or her heart skipping a beat. Sleep had taken her fully, leaving Amity to finish the movie by herself. Even if she found the story compelling, though, she couldn’t exactly concentrate anymore once Luz had fallen asleep on her.

Deciding to finish the movie on her own, Amity just settled against her and smiled softly. This was very nice. And before she knew it, she had fallen asleep as well.

 ---

Finally, it was the weekend and Boscha could be home again.

Away from the curious eyes, away from people asking her how she was, what happened and how Luz was doing. She had mostly relied on her friends to keep her out of the crossfire, something Amelia, Skara, and Cat had more than gladly done, but it had only helped so much. Every single gaze, every single question, reduced her to what had happened about ten days ago. And every single time it brought her back to these moments, minutes, she had spent kneeling in the human’s blood and trying to keep her alive.

Her parents, mostly her father, had been understanding enough to schedule her some emergency therapy sessions, and allowed her to stay out of school for a few days. While the therapy sessions had definitely helped, and she had been able to convince her parents she’d need them for a bit longer, she still felt as though this incident followed her every step.

When she looked out the window to see the forest, when she lied down to sleep, when she got up and when she ate. Throughout her whole day, the memories followed her, bothered her, taunted her.

She had injured Luz this way. She had thrown that ball, and her teammates had tried stopping her. She was at fault, she could’ve had this never happen. She should’ve stopped.

Tiredly, Boscha crawled under her sheets and buried her face in the pillow. This was unbearable.

Injuring another witch like that had never made her feel so guilty. Probably mostly because witches were more durable than humans. They could get back up, their injuries healed faster.

Seeing the human knocked out like this, seeing her bleeding out and dying, had been a rapid change from what Boscha knew.

She knew she had acted right after she had realized what she had done. She knew that she had reacted faster than all of them and that she had done the right thing, giving everyone tasks, avoiding them to slip into shock right there and freeze up. She had done the right thing.

That still didn’t excuse that she had done the wrong thing before. That didn’t make anything better, except that Luz was still alive, and well, as Amity had told her. It didn’t make her suffering better. It didn’t make it easier that she would have to adjust and live with what she had done.

Once again, her eyes burned and she growled. She had been crying a lot these days, something she hadn’t done before. She’d also had a lot of nightmares. Nightmares of the human dying, of everyone blaming Boscha.

She had shot up in bed in a cold sweat and cried, cried all night long until she had fallen asleep for the next nightmare again.

But she couldn’t face Luz yet. She couldn’t face her.

In her memories she was always so grey, surrounded by red, and draining of life. She was so weak and helpless and completely at Boscha’s mercy. Boscha liked bossing people around but, never like this. At her mercy, not responding. Still.

She gulped again.

The human’s soft, raspy breaths when she had leaned down to check for it.

Closing her eyes, Boscha groaned again and shook her head. She had never anticipated this, she had never wanted this. And now she was feeling so sick, so twisted. She had done the wrong thing, then the right, and she felt so guilty for both.

By the first throw, she should’ve already known the human wasn’t playing. She should’ve known the human was in real danger at the very moment she had seen the fear flashing in her eyes. But she hadn’t reacted to that, even liked the fear. Because she never would’ve thought something would actually happen. Nothing had happened to Luz before. Nothing would happen to them, they were just teens, right?

And then it had happened. The sickening crack still shook Boscha to her core. The ball leaving her hand and the crack that had followed when she had crushed Luz’s skull against the stone. The flashbacks were coming again and Boscha curled up under her blanket, baring her teeth.

When the human had been thrown back, her eyes rolling upwards and her torso collapsing in itself as the spine was turned to cracked pebbles. She winced.

Then the blood. She hadn’t registered how the wound looked like at first, but the more her shock faded, the more her brain gave her all the details she had burned into her memories by accident. When she had run over and remembered faintly not to damage Luz’s spine more. When, for a super scary second, her hands had hovered helplessly and she had done nothing.

She still dreaded that moment. It couldn’t have been longer than the blink of an eye but her memory stretched it to hours, unmoving, terrifying hours of dread while she stared down at the broken human, hearing her rasping breaths and letting the shock take over her.

And then that moment ended. When she snapped into action.

Her fingers reaching down finally, feeling as though she had just cracked a cover of ice over her skin when she moved, breaking free of her frozen state. The soft pulse, so weak and fragile, underneath her fingertips, her skin getting slick with the warm blood spilling from the human.

She remembered faintly how her grandmother, as strict as she had been, had been baking with her once. Her grandmother hadn’t taken any shit. Especially not from the spoiled five-year-old brat who hadn’t wanted to knead the dough or do the dishes by hand. She remembered her stepping behind the child and folding up her sleeves, before grabbing her hands and forcing them down into the sticky goo. Telling her, “When you work in the kitchen, you don’t use your fingertips and keep your hands clean. You can wash them after. Now knead it properly, child.”

She had done the same with Luz. Not fearing the blood getting on her, not fearing her hands getting dirty. She had just jumped to action, done the right thing, not minded any blood no matter how thick and slimy and warm it had felt on her hands. As if it was holding onto the skin by which it had been trapped before, begging for a way back in.

Luz had been facing down on the ground, and she would never forget the kind of awkward angle her spine had been in. Even in this lying position, she had seen the dangerous injury she had given the human.

Her eyes had flitted from her back to her fingers on her neck, then up to the back of her head. Where the laceration of the hit was. Boscha felt herself getting sick while her body started shivering uncontrollably.

The wound had been horrifying. She hadn’t paid attention to the details when she had been in the situation, but her mind would never forget. How the hair had been flattened down and dampened by red blood, how it had darkened her hair and flowed down her neck, down her back underneath her uniform, and down the sides of her face. The exposed flesh, something hard and red and-… Dark sitting underneath the pulled-back skin. The cracked skull.

Boscha convulsed, then she pressed a hand to her mouth while a pathetic whimper escaped her throat. She had done this. She had thrown the ball that had the speed to split open skin, crack bones. She heaved, then she finally got up to stumble to her bathroom that was attached to her room, and threw up in the toilet.

She would never forget how it moved. How she watched the wound oozing, how she had watched the skin moving with every slight movement of the human.

And the worst had been that, while Luz had been knocked out completely, her eyes had been half-open. She had seen the pain on the human’s face, the whites of her eyes, and the flitting iris sometimes coming into view when her eyes rolled.

Her knees had been damp, she could still feel it while kneeling in front of the toilet. She mistook the cold tiles beneath her knees as wetness, she was sure. But when she looked down, there was red.

Immediately, her eyes watered, and her torso convulsed again, forcing her to heave on an empty stomach. The blood-soaked pajamas climbed up her legs, and she remembered how her clothes stuck to her after that. No matter how much she had scrubbed when she had gotten home, she would never get rid of the iron smell, or the slight, faint coloring of a darker shade, of the dried, edges of the blood on her pink skin.

Desperately gripping the toilet seat, she leaned the side of her face against the edge and sobbed.

She still remembered how warm her forehead had felt when she had checked for Luz’s breathing. She still knew how it had felt, leaning over the human, pressing her forehead into the pool of blood, and feeling her hair getting dampened by the liquid.

She still remembered the raspy breaths, the heaving, and the blood sticking to her hair and face and getting everywhere. She could still feel the cold air hitting her blood-soaked skin when she had leaned back to bark more instructions, and checked Luz’s pulse again. The droplets out of her hair, running down her head, around her ears, down her temples and nose, getting in her eyes and mouth and tasting like iron.

She faintly remembered not wiping it away.

And Amity’s screaming. Her insults, the despair. Titan, the love from that girl. Boscha was glad she had instructed Amelia to trap her in a cage. But that hadn’t made her screams easier to bear, her screams that had morphed into the voice inside Boscha’s head that had been pestering her ever since that accident had started sinking in.

Finally, when they had turned Luz around and Boscha had done her best not to look at the wound, the skull moving when they moved her, her breaths coming to a stop. The sudden silence after the raspy, uneven breaths.

She had leaned down and listened and had heard it, heard Luz’s last breath in another reality, had she not started CPR. She was just glad she was on the grudgby team and everyone suspected harsh injuries in that sport.

It was completely uncommon in the demon realm to perform CPR because either the body of a witch or demon was fast enough to recover or there simply wasn’t enough left to perform CPR on. Boscha was one of the few people in the school, including some teachers, the healing track students, and the grudgby players to even know that practice.

It had been deafening.

Even tuning out Amity’s screams and sobs, and her own intrusive thoughts.

The sudden break had shocked Boscha more than she had anticipated. She only knew breathing. She had known it when her father had held her as a child, she had known it with her sister, and her friends sleeping over and breathing in their sheets while Boscha had lied awake. She had known breathing from Amity, from her panic attacks when they had gotten older, the hyperventilation, and the quickening breaths she had let out. She knew it from Amity when they curled up together, seeking each other’s comfort in their mothers’ competition. She had known breathing in her first kiss, and in the silence of a classroom during an exam. There was always breathing around her.

Hell, some houses in the Boiling Isles were breathing.

And yet, Luz had stopped.

It had been unnerving, understanding that the human had just stopped breathing. Her brain wouldn’t work it out until way later, in the situation she had known it was bad and had known what to do.

But now that she was pushing away from the toilet and leaning against the wall next to it, crying and sobbing hysterically into her arms?

She understood what it had meant, beyond bad.

It had meant Luz had just been moments from her death. She doesn’t think anyone but Skara, who had heard it, too, knew what that had meant. Willow had only sat on Luz’s feet and heard and understood what Boscha had said, but she hadn’t watched the sudden drainage of life from Luz’s face, she hadn’t noticed the forced lifting and sinking of her chest stopping under her hand and she hadn’t heard her last breath.

She hadn’t felt the pulse under Boscha’s fingertips weakening, hiccupping, stopping. Then restarting, before stilling again.

But Boscha had, Boscha had felt and heard and noticed it all, and she had realized what that had meant. Someone had jokingly told her once, that the soul of a being left its vessel with the last breath. Boscha had seen Luz’s last breath, she had seen the life fleeting from her body so fast that she had been scared that she wouldn’t be fast enough.

Letting out a feral scream, Boscha buried her head on her knees and clamped her arms over her head. The world vanished in static when the panic attack took full hold of her now. Her fingertips were uncomfortably pulsing and itching under her skin, mockingly, reliving the feeling of Luz’s pulse getting too weak for her to feel anymore, reminding her of the sudden lack of life.

She knew Luz hadn’t died at that moment, she knew it took a moment still, but it had certainly felt like it.

Her socks kicked against the floor in a desperate attempt to make herself smaller, press her back harder against the tiled wall, and the itching in her fingertips spread to her knuckles, to her palms and wrist, and down her lower arms. Suddenly, she had to get the sleeves off. Ripping her arms off her head, she tried rolling her sleeves up in unpracticed, frantic movements, starting to scratch her skin to get rid of the uncomfortable itching, but it wouldn’t stop. The blood was soaking her skin, the red was crawling up and the itching got worse until she finally ripped her shirt off and started rubbing over her arms, up and down and not noticing that she scrubbed it sore, turning it red, much lighter than the human’s blood.

How the wound on the back of Luz’s head hadn’t stopped bleeding, and how wet it had sounded, Luz’s head rolling around despite Skara’s grip on her to keep her crushed spine straight enough for Boscha to perform CPR. How stupid Boscha had been not to cover the wound. Had she even been supposed to? She didn’t even know now.

Another scream ripped through her throat and she squinted her eyes, biting her teeth together so hard it hurt, while her arms were still working over her biceps, shoulders, and whatever she could reach of her back. She saw the human convulsing, her belly rising and falling with each violent push she had given her chest, compressing the air that was left. As if she was breathing but not quite.

How stale and like iron her lips had tasted when she had blown air into her mouth, hoping so badly that she hadn’t suffered a wound in there somewhere so Boscha wouldn’t force blood into her lungs.

Amity’s screams had become one with the voice in her head, screaming at her to do better than what she had done.

And then, nothing anymore.

When Luz had been gone, and the storm in Boscha’s head had calmed down, the static had died out in the silence. Amity’s weak sobs, Willow’s soft reassurances, and Skara’s and Amelia’s shocked breaths, hitching every now and then when they collapsed in emotional and mental exhaustion.

Boscha whimpered and sobbed more, still rubbing over her arms frantically and still trying to push herself further into the wall.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps, fast footsteps approaching, and the door to her bathroom flew open. Before she knew what was happening, her mother’s arms were around her and her father kneeled in front of her. His expensive business pants got soaked in blood, so much blood that was covering all the floor, Luz’s blood. Boscha whimpered again, when her mother pulled her in, when her father flushed the toilet and sat down beside her as well, his arms wrapping around her cooling back, keeping her away from the wall just a little at least.

She managed to control her crying and whimpering the best she could, softly sobbing now, and felt her mother’s unruly hair on her neck and her nose in her hair.

Her parents held her close, not even caring that she didn’t have a shirt on, and as soon as she had calmed down a little at least, her father started soaking toilet paper in cold water to soothe her burning skin. She felt her mother chastising him, but he was so helpless, and Boscha didn’t want him to stop. Plus, it did help.

Sighing, she finally relaxed into her mother’s embrace and felt her father softly drying her arms again, then she was coaxed up by him, and led back into her room. She barely felt her mother lifting her arms and covering her with the shirt again. It was on backward, but it wasn’t important.

Her father scooped her up in his arms and started carrying her outside, causing a slight, irritating call from his wife, but he just spoke back in a calm voice before carrying her out. Her head was rested against his chest and she heard his heart beating.

Vaguely opening her eyes, she saw that he was aiming for her parents’ bedroom. Looking behind, she saw her mother closing the door to her room and carrying her blanket, before following them.

This was a privilege she would not pass up. Being able to sleep in her parents’ bed at least for tonight. Her parents believed in independence much like Amity’s, but she knew they had her back if something happened.

And if it left their daughter traumatized, they would move mountains for her. In the caring department, her parents weren’t that bad, even if there was mostly discipline in it, but the loving didn’t come too short in exceptional situations. She supposed this was one.

Her father lowered her down in the middle of the bed and kissed her forehead, before crawling in in his side and getting under his blanket, while wrapping his arm around her waist and keeping her close. Boscha managed an exhausted smile, then she felt a gust of wind, and her blanket sunk down on her before she felt her mother getting into bed as well and adding her arm around Boscha’s waist as well. She knew her mother wasn’t the most affectionate type, but she appreciated the effort she had put in today.

It was much needed.

With her father’s breath deepening, and her mother’s humming, she slowly felt herself getting drowsy and falling asleep. She had a feeling she’d have a nightmare tonight again.

But maybe, just maybe, she’d be exhausted enough not to dream at all.

And maybe the presence of her parents would also help her through this.

---

I will go now and uh. Calm down.

[get-lost-in-fanfiction]

LOST - Another Story

Rating: M

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys the new character. I have big plans for her in terms of the overarching story of Lost. Also for the dialogue I’m following a transcript of the episodes so I can get it all right. Anyway, here’s Pilot Part 2!

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Pilot (Part 2)

I sit down, trying to ignore the mixed expression Sawyer is giving my right now. One would assume he is upset I know his true name, or he thinks I'm some spy. Then a horrid thought crosses my mind, what if they think I'm an Other? I realize they don't know about the Others now, but in the future, I'm not sure. I'm putting my trust in Sawyer to keep my secret and protect me, but knowing how he is in the first season it doesn't seem likely. But I know the kind of man he is meant to be. So with that in mind and with a sigh, I begin to tell Sawyer everything I know.

“My name is Amelia Kassman, I am 20 years old, now single, and I know the future, ” I pause there to take in Sawyer’s reaction but he seems too stunned to speak.

“I know the future because where I come from this world doesn't exist. This reality, or whatever this is, is from a TV show called Lost. This Island isn't actually real, and the show was filmed in Hawaii. I come from 2010, and the show has just finished it's 6th and final season. Weeks before this I had just watched the finale. I can assure you, it's just as weird for me too.”

I pause again, letting Sawyer soak up the information. I nervously tap my leg, knowing once the rain stops Jack, Kate, and Charlie will be on their way back. Sawyer opens and closes his mouth a few times, seemingly wanting to talk but unable to. As the rain suddenly stops, I suck in a breath. Fuck. I watch Sawyer as he stands up and walks out of his tent.

I stay a little longer in Sawyer’s tent, listening intently for the sound of a fight to break out over the handcuffs Walt finds in the jungle. Once I do, I rush out of the tent and over to where Sayid and Sawyer are fist-fighting.

“Hey guys. Come on, man. Hey.” I hear Michael say as I jog up to the scene.

“Hey. Break it up. Break it up! Come on! That's it! It's over! That's it!” Jack shouts, running in a few moments after I arrive.

“Son of a bitch!” Sawyer spits at Sayid.

“I'm sick of this redneck!” Sayid calls.

Sawyer gets up close to Sayid, “You want some more of me, boy?” He taunts.

“Tell everyone what you told me! Tell them that I crashed the plane! Go on! Tell them I made the plane crash!”

“The shoe fits, buddy!”

“What is going on?” Jack shouts over the commotion.

Sayid shouts something in Arabic angrily at Sawyer.

“What's going on?” Jack commands again louder.

Michael hands the handcuffs to Jack before speaking up, “Look, my kid found these in the jungle.”

I roll my eyes when Sawyer decides to butt in, “And this guy was sitting in the back row of business class, the whole flight, never got up. Hands folded underneath the blanket.”

“Oh-” Sayid gasps softly.

“And for some reason,” Sawyer continues, “just pointin' this out - the guy sittin' next to him didn't make it.”

“Thank you so much for observing my behavior.” Sayid spits back at Sawyer.

“You don't think I saw them pull you out of line before we boarded?”

I watch as Sayid tries to get to Sawyer again to hit him.

“Come on, bring it!” Sawyer exclaims.

Kate steps up and yells loudly, “STOP!” As Sayid backs off.

Kate continues after the situation is visibly diffused, “We found the transceiver, but it's not working. Can anybody help?”

“Yes. I might be able to.” Sayid claims calmly.

Sawyer throws his hands up, “Oh great. Perfect! Let's trust this guy!” He shouts again.

At this, Hurley steps in, “Hey! We're all this together, man. Let's treat each other with a little respect.”

“Shut up, Lardo.” Sawyer shoots back. I wince, watching this scene in person is a lot worse than on TV.

“Hey! Give it a break.” Jack says exasperatedly.

“Whatever you say, doc. You're the hero.” Sawyer says and Jack shoots me an odd look. For a beat, I don't understand why, but suddenly it comes back to me. I also called Jack ‘Doc.’ Terrific.

I stay on the beach, trying to convince myself to go on the hike with everyone. I know it won't be easy, and I know that the climbing scene was faked. I'm not very strong, but I've got enough upper body strength to fight so why can't I climb? I was hiking before the crash, anyway, so it could be plausible for me to go. I drop my face in my hands and sigh loudly before pushing off the sand. I walk myself over to the gathering group of Kate, Sayid, Shannon, and Boone.

“Shut up, and stop trying to be charming.” I hear Shannon say angrily to Boone. She then turns to Kate and Sayid, “I'm coming with you.”

I see Kate looking visibly uncomfortable, “I don't... know if that's such a good idea.” She says slowly.

Shannon scoffs “What are you? Two years older than me? Please.” I walk quickly up beside Charlie as Shannon whips around to see us, “You two are going, aren't you?”

“Yeah, are you?” Charlie says.

“Yup.”

“Yeah, I'm definitely going.” Charlie says as I shudder slightly.

“I’d like to come too if you don't mind?” I ask Kate politely.

“Look, everybody can come. But we're leaving now.” Kate says, annoyed. I'm glad I like this early season version of her or else I’d be annoyed too.

Charlie then speaks up to Shannon, “You couldn't tell from that, but she's actually really nice.”

I turn my head and see Sawyer smoking while reading his letter. He looks up at me and we lock eyes for a moment before glancing beside me to see the others walking off. I look away and try to suppress the butterflies. I don't like men who smoke, but Sawyer makes it look sexy. Thankfully he runs out of cigarettes soon.

I tighten the laces of my boots as Kate turns to me. “You have a backpack?” She asks.

“What?” I say in reply, as I mentally smack myself.

“I said do you have a backpack, you should carry some water.”

“Yeah I have a backpack, I was hiking in Australia before the crash. Do you want me to get it?” I try and keep my tone even and kind as I talk to Kate.

“Yeah, go do that.” I worry she’ll leave me behind so I run as quickly as I can to my tent to get my backpack. Once I do and fill it with some water bottles I rush back to the group.

“I'm ready,” I call.

“Great then, let's head out, ” Kate says. I give a quiet sigh in return, this is going to be a long hike.

We are well into the jungle, and I start to worry that Sawyer won't be joining us. I won't lie when I say that he is one of the reasons I even came on this hike. Not that he is the only reason, though, I also came because I wanted a gun. Despite my adversity towards them, I have the strange need for one. Knowing what lies ahead I feel like I can become a trustworthy gunman. The quick crunching of another pair of feet shook me out of my thoughts.

“You decided to join us.” Kate says unamused.

“I'm a complex guy, sweetheart,” Sawyer calls back and turns his head to me to give a little wink. I try hard to keep my cheeks from turning bright red.

“I didn't know you were comin’ on this little excursion blue eyes,” Sawyer flirts, is he flirting? I can't tell, and part of me doesn't want to look into it too much. I know having a crush on Sawyer won't end well for me, there are too many competitors. I don't want to mess up the timeline just because I have a silly crush.

“Yeah, dimples, I decided to come. Better than sitting on the beach staring at the ocean all day,” I see Sawyer’s face turn a little when I use his own nickname game against him. Maybe I could have a bit of fun with it.

“Touche,” is all he can say.

We get to the base of a cliff and I realize this is the moment I've been dreading. Kate looks to Sawyer, Shannon looks to Boone, Charlie looks around and I look up at the top of the cliff. Sawyer starts to climb up first, followed by Kate and Sayid not far behind. Charlie is a little way behind them and I decide to follow him, not wanting to be behind the slow pokes of Shannon and Boone. We struggle up the side of the cliff, grabbing branches and roots that stick out and trying our best to find footing. Charlie occasionally offers me his hand to help pull me up and I am grateful to take it, also opting to help him as well when I can. My hands, back, and forehead are sweating from nerves and exertion. Sawyer reaches the top of the cliff first and helps lift Kate up along with himself. Sawyer and Kate then help Sayid and Charlie, too. Somehow, Shannon and Boone got ahead of me, and Shannon is too proud to get the help from anyone but Boone, so he is the one to pull himself up and help her. I realize I’m the last one when I see Sawyer’s smiling face looking down at me.

“Need some help there, blue eyes?” He says with a bit of amusement in his voice.

“Yeah actually, I do,” I puff back, not realizing how much I’m struggling.

So Sawyer reaches his hand down and I hoist myself up to grab it while still clinging to some roots. He wraps his large hand around my smaller one then grabs hold of my forearm with his other hand. He pulls me up as I use my other arm to lift myself up. I roll over the edge of the cliff and Sawyer lets go of my arm. Everyone stares at me for a moment and I feel my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. I quickly scramble to my feet and brush myself off.

“Well let’s go,” I say embarrassed and while avoiding eye contact with Sawyer.

We get to a fairly flat place in the jungle with tall grass and lots of tree cover. Cicadas are chirping loudly as I walk beside Sawyer. I swing my backpack around and pull out a water bottle, take a swig, offer it to Sawyer who waves it away, and then screw the cap back on. I stow the water away as I remember that during the mountain my favorite theme was playing. I laugh a little to myself and Sawyer glances at me quickly, I put my fingers up to my mouth and smile shyly in his direction.

We walk a bit more before Sawyer throws his hands up and speaks, “Okay! Wide open space! You should check the radio, see if we're good.”

“We're not going to have any reception here.” Sayid says as he continues to walk.

“Just try it.” Sawyer exclaims.

“I don't want to waste the batteries.”

“I'm not asking you to keep it on all day!”

“We're still blocked by the mountain.”

“Just check the damn radio!” Sawyer huffs.

“If I just check! We might not have any juice left when we get to-” Suddenly a loud roar interrupts Sayid and everyone whips around to the movement. We hear puffs and everyone looks around to find the source of the noise and the crunching of the grass and leaves around us.

“My god.” Shannon squeaks, I glance at her.

“What the hell's that?” Boone asks, I want to speak up, but I have a plan quickly forming in my mind.

“Something's coming.” Kate says quietly, and by the look in her eyes I can tell she thinks it's the Smoke Monster. The beast starts running at us, huffing.

“It's coming towards us, I think.” Charlie says nervously.

Kate rushes towards us, “Come on, let's move,” she says hurriedly. Everyone begins to run off but Sawyer and I. He looks down at me worriedly, an expression I didn’t think I would see.

“I shouldn't have come. Aah!” Shannon screams.

Sayid pulls Charlie along and they all start running, “Go! Go!” he shouts. Sawyer tries to push me away to run but I stay put, ready to strike.

I hear Kate yell, “Sawyer!” and Sayid’s exclamation of “Let him go!”

I quickly reach for Sawyer’s gun and shoot at the bear, knowing where it is. It bursts out of the jungle, Sawyer stumbling back a bit, as I quickly put a bullet through its chest. The bear drops and I look up at Sawyer, the smoking gun still in my hand.

“Blue eyes..?” Sawyer starts, but Shannon cuts him off.

“That's... that's a big bear,” She says, looking fretfully at the animal.

“You think that's what killed the pilot?” Kate glances at Charlie nervously.

“No. No, that's a tiny, teeny version compared to that,” Charlie says, holding up his fingers for comparison.

Kate looks at it for a moment, “Guys, this isn't just a... bear. That's a polar bear,” she says.

Boone decides to speak up, “That can't be a polar bear.”

“It’s a polar bear,” Kate, Sayid, and I say in unison as Sawyer gives me a look, the gun still in my hand.

“Yeah, but... Polar bears don't usually live in the jungle,” Shannon says.

“Spot on,” Charlie replied cheekily.

Sayid then speaks up, “No, polar bears don't live near this far south.”

“This one does,” Boone quips.

“Did. It did,” Sawyer says, misbelief in his eyes.

Kate then turns to me, “Where did that come from?”

Before I can speak Sawyer butts in, “Probably Bear Village. How the hell do I know?”

Kate scoffs, “Not the bear. The gun.”

I look down at the gun in my hand, flick the safety, and look back up at Kate, “I took it from Sawyer.”

“And where did Sawyer get it from?”

“I got it off one of the bodies,” Sawyer replies.

“One of the bodies,” Sayid repeats.

“Yeah, one of the bodies.”

“People don't carry guns on planes..” Shannon states.

“They do if they're a US Marshal, sweet cheeks-“ Sawyer starts, but I cut him off.

“There was one on the plane,” I state, hoping to dissolve the situation.

“How do you know that?” Kate says to the both of us, slightly panicked.

“I saw a guy lying there with an ankle holster, so I took the gun. I thought it might come in handy. Guess what? Blue-eyes here just shot a bear!” Sawyer states happily, gesturing to me when he mentions the polar bear.

“I have a name you know,” I say, a bit annoyed.

“Well nicknames are my specialty, peaches,” Sawyer says smoothly.

Kate interrupts us before I can reply, “So why do you think he's a Marshal?”

“Because he had a clip-on badge,” Sawyer holds up a badge, ”I took that too. Thought it was cool.”

“I know who you are,” Sayid begins, “You're the prisoner.”

“I'm the what?” Sawyer says incredulously.

“You found a gun on a US Marshal. Yes, I believe you did. You knew where it was, because you were the one he was bringing back to the States,” Sayid glances at me before he continues back to Sawyer, “Those handcuffs were on you. That's how you knew there was a gun.”

“Piss off,” Sawyer spits.

“That's who you are, you son of a bitch!” Sayid starts to get angry.

“Be as suspicious of me as I am of you,” Sawyer states coolly.

“But you are the prisoner.”

“Fine! I'm the criminal. You're the terrorist. We can all play a part,” Sawyer turns to me, “Who do you want to be blue-eyes?”

Kate suddenly reaches towards me and wrestles the gun out of my hand, I’m glad I put on the safety. Once Kate has the gun she points it at Sawyer, looking at me guilty. I know that look, she thinks I’m just a child. I’m not a child, but, compared to the rest of the survivors I am.

“Does anybody know how to use a gun?” Kate says.

“I think you just pull the trigger,” Charlie quips.

“Don't use the gun.” Sayid states.

“I want to take it apart,” Kate says calmly.

“Oh,” Charlie says softly.

Sayid takes a deep breath and says, “There's a button on the grip. Push that, it will eject the magazine,” Kate follows Sayid's instructions and ejects the magazine, “There's still a round in the chamber. Hold the grip, pull the top part of the gun.”

Kate does what Sayid says quickly, and almost too expertly. If I didn’t know her I would be suspicious. She then gives the magazine to Sayid and the gun to Sawyer.

Sawyer grabs Kate’s arm as she gives him the gun back “I know your type,” he says quietly.

“I'm not so sure,” she says back.

“Yeah. I've been with girls like you.”

“No girl's exactly like me,” Kate says coldly, but with a slight glance at me.

Kate then walks off and Sayid speaks up, “We should keep moving.”

We walk a bit more, to an open hilly area. I close my eyes and face the ocean, breathing in the air. Despite being hot and humid, I can’t help but marvel at the beauty of the Island. Even though I know back home it was just Hawaii, this is no Oahu. Sayid then gets the transceiver out and I steel myself for Sawyer, again.

“Oh! Now's a good time to check the radio! Not before.. but now!” He says angrily.

“We're up higher,” Sayid says calmly.

“Yes, we are!”

Suddenly Sayid gets excited, “Bar. Hey! We've got a bar! Mayday! Mayday!” But all that comes out is feedback.

“What is that?” Kate asks.

“Feedback,” Sayid answers.

“Feedback from what? What would do that?”

“I don't know.”

“I'll tell you what would do that,” Sawyer begins angrily, “This guy not fixing the radio. This thing doesn't even work!”

“No. No, no, no, no, it's not broken. We can't transmit because something else is already transmitting,” Sayid explains.

“Transmitting from where?” Charlie asks.

“What?” Shannon adds nervously.

“Somewhere close. The signal's strong,” Sayid says, and I remember the radio tower. I wish I could somehow get away and find it, even though I know what happens when we do a few months down the line.

“Somewhere close? You mean on the Island? That's great!” Charlie claims excitedly.

“Maybe it's other survivors,” Boone adds.

“From our plane? How would they even—“ Shannon begins, bur Sawyer cuts her off.

“What kind of transmission is it?” He asks.

“Could be a sat phone, maybe a radio signal…” Sayid says as he trails off.

“Can we listen to it?” Kate asks nervously.

“Let me get the frequency first. Hold on,” Sayid says.

“There's no transmission,” Sawyer dismisses.

“Sawyer,” I say quietly, touching his arm a bit. He looks down at me and shuts up.

Sayid finally gets transmission to play and Charlie starts to get excited. “The rescue party. It has to be,” Rousseau’s message is heard clearly, “It's French! The French are coming! I've never been so happy to hear the French!” Charlie bounces up and down as he speaks.

“I never took French. What does she say?” Kate asks.

“D-Does anybody speak French?” Sayid says hurriedly.

“She does,” Boone says before I can, and I realize that might have been a bad thing to say.

Shannon then suddenly gets defensive towards Boone, “No, I don't. What?”

“What the hell are you talking about? You spent a year in Paris!”

“Drinking, not studying!”

Suddenly the transmission ends and a male voice speaks from the radio, “Iteration 7294531.”

“Okay. What's that?” Charlie asks, looking hopeful. Sayid, not so much.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…” Sayid says quickly.

“‘No, no, no’ what?” Kate asks hurriedly.

“What ‘no’?” Shannon also asks.

“The-the batteries are dying!” Sayid shouts.

“How much time do we have?” Kate asks.

“Not much.”

Boone turns to Shannon again, “I've heard you speak French! Just listen to this! Listen to it!”

“I can't!” Shannon cries.

Sawyer huffs, “You speak French or not? Because that would be nice.”

The radio speaks again “Iteration 17294532.”

“That voice is weird. What is that?” Charlie inputs, but no one answers his question. I look sympathetically at him.

“Come on. Come on, Shannon!” Boone urges.

“Come on!” Kate adds.

Even Sayid, who is doing mental math manges to say, “Come on!”

The transmission begins to play again, and Shannon looks nervously at it, “Il est dehors….”

“It's... it's repeating,” she says.

“She's right,” Sayid adds.

Boone looks at Sayid, “What?”

“It's a loop,” Sayid begins, "’Iteration’—it's repeating the same message. It's a counter. The next number will end... ‘533’.”

Just as Sayid says, the radio blares, “Iteration 17294533.”

“Does anyone know what the hell he's talking about?” Sawyer says angrily.

“Sawyer please,” I add, but he doesn’t hear me.

“It's a running count of the number of times the message has repeated. It's roughly thirty seconds long, so... how long…” Sayid says as once again he tried to figure it out in his head.

“Don't forget to carry the one, chief,” Sawyer adds.

The radio begins again after, “Iteration 17294534.”

Shannon looks at the radio and starts to translate, “She's saying .. ‘Please’. She's saying, ‘Please help me. Please, come get me.’”

“Or she's not! You don't even speak French!” Sawyer shouts.

“Let her listen!” Kate yells back.

“Shut up, man!” Boone adds.

“Guys, the battery. The battery.” Charlie says nervously.

Once again the radio says, “Iteration 17294535.”

Shannon puts the radio up to her ear and says, “I'm alone now. Uhm... On the Island alone. Please, someone come. The others, they're... they're dead. I-it killed them. I-it killed them all.”

“That was good,” Boone reassured her.

“Sixteen years,” Sayid finally says.

“What?” Sawyer asks.

“Sixteen years. And five months. That's the count.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Boone asks.

“The iterations. It's a distress call,” Sayid starts, “A plea for help. A mayday. If the count is right... It's been playing over... and over... for sixteen years.”

“Someone else? Was stranded here?” Boone says worriedly.

“Maybe they came for them,” Kate speculates.

“If someone came, why is it still playing?” Sawyer adds.

“Agreed, you’d think then it wouldn’t matter if they’re rescued,” I say, but not really adding much to the conversation. It’s weird seeing them all talk like this, knowing who it is. They all still have hope they’ll be rescued.

“Guys,” Charlie says, “Where are we?”

LOST

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[antihero-writings]

The Offspring of a Dream

Fandom: Bloodborne

Fic Summary: Why does the Doll call you “good”?

Notes: 

Obviously the lore in this game is very hidden and up for interpretation, so this fic in part has to do with my personal interpretation of things, so please keep that in mind! I know there's a theory about the Doll being a Great One/Avatar out there (haven't read up about it much through), but currently I find there's something rather beautiful about the Doll truly just being a doll, who is genuinely kind, and just trying to help us out, because the game has little to no other characters like that. I also know whether or not we are "good" is definitely up for great debate, but I'm the kind of person who likes to see/read redemption into everything, so this is just my rather optimistic interpretation of events.

Also, I don't necessarily ship the Hunter and the Doll, but I do think it's a cute ship and enjoy content for it...So you're free to interpret the internal monologue as platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer.

This is one of the only times I've used second person, so go easy on me...I chose second person because I didn't find third or first nearly as compelling for it.

I'd really really appreciate it if you could leave a comment!! They seriously do make my week, and give me the motivation to keep writing!!

I also have another Bloodborne fic about Vicar Amelia's transformation, I'd love it if you could check that out too!! Links in a reblog!!

The Offspring of a Dream: 

“New Hunter”

“Mister Hunter”

“Hunter”

“A Hunter!”

“Moon-Scented Hunter”

“Miss Hunter!”

“Good Hunter of the Church,

"have you seen the thread of light?”

“Welcome home,

Good Hunter.

What is it you desire?”—

No name.

Not a greeting, nor title.

No adjectives or addendums like ‘holy’ or ‘accursed,’ ‘beast,’ or ‘man.’ Not a crow, or a wolf, or an avenger, or a knight. Nor a roar of what you hunted.

A lonely hunter without a name, or a word.

Just a hunter, who may or may not be good.

And it was a doll, a doll who had a dreamer, but was equally lonely—

Is this all in my mind? Did I dream her up?

It was this Doll who said you were good, every time you arrived in the dream, always ready to turn your desires, the echoes of a scourge, into strength.

She said it faithfully, and it was not easy to recognize when she said it, it wasn’t a greeting, or a title.

It was a prayer.

Because she had watched a thousand “good hunters” walk through the dream, and a thousand fall. A thousand keep her company, a thousand ask for her to make them stronger with the echoes of their killing. A thousand become drunk with blood, trapped in a very different dream, that some might call nightmare. And a thousand become something other than a hunter…something other than good.

A thousand graves.

Graves for the ones who woke up.

So with a title she prayed to the moon that this one—this one—would be good.

That’s all she needed. That’s all any of them ever needed; one good man.

The title ‘hunter’ was meant to be synonymous with good. A force of holiness to purge the impurity. …But their name became equivalent with evil. Or maybe it was from the very start.

The spreading corruption burned.

Before the blood parched their lips and ravaged their bones. After. At the end of the day, we’re all human. At the end of the day, we’re all beasts.

Born of the blood… undone by the blood…

So she—inhuman, human—she prayed that one day there would be a hunter who could fight the monsters and not become one. That the blood wouldn’t burn and coil and wrap its tendrils around them, twist them inside out, and make them something more than just a “good hunter”…and so much less. She cast goodness over you, as if reminding you not to give in to the beast. Not to give in to your humanity. Reminding you that though you were a hunter, though you were drenched in blood, with heart full of holes, and brain full of eyes, you could still be good.

She put her hands together and she prayed. She prayed, and she helped you on your journey, she channeled death into strength, she whispered, and she tended to frail, living flowers, and feeble, dying, old men, and she cried.

Any god-fearing man, not burdened with an overabundance of naiveté, would know that dolls don’t whisper. They don’t ask if you love them. They don’t move. They can’t help. They don’t pray. And they definitely don’t cry.

Dolls sit lifeless on the floors of children’s nurseries, and the abandoned workshops of bitter, maniacal, old men.

Is this just a dream? Will I know you when I wake?

What’s waking worth without you?

If the gods don’t love me I still promise to love you.

You watched human hands twist into claws, skin into fur, faces into tentacles, tongues into snakes, and eyes into eyes, and wondered if perhaps this doll, with her porcelain skin and hair, with her tears and prayer, if she was more human than the rest. This doll—who asked about gods and love, who cared for you, who hoped even the worst hunters might be worth something in another, better world—was more human than the offspring of an old, forgotten town. More human than we, who are born and die by the blood.

How was she born, and how would she die? What caused her to breathe, to come alive? Was it just our minds, some ill-gotten, internal eyes? Was something so primitive as hope or love? Or was it the twisted will of some faceless moon without a man in it?

Is it just me?

Is it my mind?

Tell me she’s more than children’s toys, and old men’s dreams.

Tell me she’s real.

Could something made of metal and mechanics, and the puppet strings of our own minds die?

Do dreams die when we wake up?

Or, in the end when men are all either monsters or gods, would she stand in the wreckage, the only real, awake thing left…the only thing left that’s still human?

When men become gods, do our creations become human?

She watched them fall. She watched them reach for bare threads of guiding moonlight with human hands, and howl at the same moon with a wolf’s cry, and she still had enough hope left in her to call you “good hunter.” To believe that you would be different.

Did she say this to everyone? Did she hope every time? Or was it just you? And which meant more? If she hoped despite just how many had failed, or if she saw something different within you alone?

Here you stood, steeped in the blood of beasts. Ugly thing. Killer. Cold and merciless.

And she called you good.

Did that mean she saw the blood, and the murder, and thought it was good? Or that she looked past all that and saw the good still?

How could she, a doll, an echo herself, know what it meant to be good?

Perhaps she was made by someone who had seen a world with good left in it. Or a world which was evil, but in which there was someone like her, who encompassed all the good in the world to him.

Perhaps that’s what she was to you too. The good. The human left. Without her you may never keep fighting. You had no one else, after all. Your friends were either mad, or intoxicated, or destined to die, or destined for…worse.

Is she just a trick of the moonlight?

She was the embodiment of hope.

You tried to be good. For her. For the world. They all did. But most became drunk on blood, or knowledge, and lost themselves along the way.

What is it you desire?

It always starts good. Goals, on paper, always seem so noble. In practice, so bloodthirsty.

Laurence made a church. A force of holiness and healing. And he turned the city into a madhouse, a cage for monsters.

Wilhelm made a school. A place of mindfulness and learning. And he dabbled in rituals to hide the moon.

The old hunters thought stealing a child wouldn’t incite the wrath of its mother.

They all thought the world could be saved, that the plague could end through quarantine or amputation.

When they cut off the diseased heads the blood only spread. When they stayed in their houses they went insane instead.

The world needed more than a simple fix to return to being “good.”

The hunters thought they were fighting for a noble cause. They thought they were all good…and they turned into the very beasts they fought, awaiting another hunter to spill their blood, and start the cycle again.

The hunters only did what they could; keep killing. That was all they knew to do to get rid of the the beasts in this brick forest.

They needed a hunter who would break the cycle. Do more than just kill and give in to the call of the blood. Who would seek the paleblood, and end this dreadful night.

Transcend the hunt.

But how to eclipse the chase when evolution without courage is the name of ruin?

A hunter who would look beyond today’s night, today’s hunt, today’s beasts. Beyond the blood. Resist its seduction. A hunter who could learn where all this started, find it. And do what hunters do best:

Kill it.

—(For sometimes death is freedom, at least when it’s a dream)—

Seek the paleblood. Hunt the great ones.

—(And sometimes waking up is far worse.)

The formless blood wanted to have a child. Perhaps he thought he was giving those he chose a gift of a sort. Only horror followed.

Every great one loses its child.

One particular woman, long ago, held the name of this broken town. Perhaps it was only fitting that the child of blood and name was born in voice alone.

This child’s formless cries echoed through more than the nightmare; through the waking world—(if you had enough eyes, at least)—calling you to comfort it, to silence it.

Could everyone in the town hear it? Is that what drove them mad? Listening to a child’s endless cries, with no hope of comforting it?

Many had tried to contact it. Some tried to become gods…and misplaced their minds in the process. But you found it. Knowing it was not to be exalted, but destroyed.

You were a hunter after all.

So you killed the only thing keeping it alive, the thing desperately trying to play a lullaby and sing it to sleep.

You yourself played a tiny music box for it, from the beginning of it all—that belonged to a family ravaged by the blood, the hunt, which held a song about love and loss—just to hear it laugh, before the nightmare let out it last.

Cords of thirds. Cords of three.

One from the child of voice. One from the child of night. One from the child stolen long ago, sitting in an old, abandoned workshop.

A workshop alive now only in hunters’ dreams.

You could have left your own nightmare long ago. You could have woken from this dream and believed the world was not so dark, not so strange, not so fascinating.

But this wasn’t the only nightmare you had to liberate.

There was another, another for which all not-so-good hunters were destined—(and thus you too if the Doll’s prayers were in vain). They sent you there with a piece of a drunken man before you yourself became, inevitably, intoxicated, in this bloody bar, so that you could, perhaps navigate sleeping minds with your sanity in tact.

We, the offspring of an old, forgotten secret. Destined and bound by the chase.

So our forefathers sinned?

Ludwig thought he was holy, fighting for a noble cause, and he stood, accursed, in a bath of the blood he spilled, trampling the ghosts of those he killed.

Is it possible there exist moonlight in even the darkest nights?

When we reach for the thread of light, none of us ever want to know what it truly is. Hope can be so vicious that way.

The church turned their eyes from their hands.

All too often, when men try to become gods—or something akin—they become monsters. There's a reason the moon is out of our reach.

Laurence thought the blood would heal. That the gods wouldn’t mind a little thievery. He thought they could keep their humanity in tact, as long as they prayed hard enough.

And he watched the world burn. Watched his hope turn his universe into a waking, walking nightmare. And he burned in his own broken Neverland, ever searching for his own lost, rotted humanity.

Maria, beloved apprentice Maria—

…Is that you, my dear Doll?

Who was there from the beginning. Who vowed to forsake the blood—including her own. Maria, so sickened by her actions, who threw the hunt down a well. Who vowed to in death to be the hunt’s secret keeper, and sat, alone, a lonely princess at the top of the clock tower, alive by the puppet strings of a nightmare—

She sacrificed herself, her values, to purge you from the plague of wild curiosity.

A corpse should be left well enough alone.

And at last, behind time, was a quaint, sad, little village, that lay dripping with secrets, ransacked for its eyes.

A quaint little village where it all started. Where the sky wept, and sun collapsed in on itself, and the great lake held too soft and depraved a secret.

Every great one loses its child…but this one lost his mother.

A quaint little village where a sympathetic mother fell from the stars. Where her child was ripped from her, dissected for parts, by the very people you once thought were good.

The wrath of an angry god is to be feared. But the wrath of a sympathetic god is far worse.

And the wrath of a mother is a lasting curse.

Death is freedom, at least in a dream. But when waking up is far worse, we rewrite the past within our dreams.

This was an orphans dream, pulling the hunt into a nightmare, as he waited to be freed from reality, as he waited for a hunter to rewrite the sins of their ancestors.

As he waited for a good man.

And the spirit thanked you. And the hunt thanked you.

And the Doll thanked you, for a shackle she never even knew was there had been lifted. She thanked you on behalf of the first hunter, for he slept a little sounder.

But there was one last dream that needed slaying:

Your own.

You could have woken long ago. You could have forsaken it all for the sunrise, and left someone else to find the answers, left someone else to be good.

It would have been nice to believe the world made sense.

It would have been nice to believe the dark side of the moon wasn’t made of blood and bones, haunting a poor, old man.

Few dreams offer you the choice to die before the bad part starts—(or perhaps simply to put an end to all the ‘bad parts’ you’ve gone through, to negate the possibility of more). But you would not bow to a happy, false reality.

Neither would you allow yourself to be taken captive by the nameless presence of the moon, made to perpetuate this hunt endlessly.

You understood the word “hunter” was never synonymous with good. They lost that title before the hunt even started. They lost that title when a little orphan was stolen from his mother.

You understood at last. It was her. Maria. The one who threw her weapon down the well in protest. She—(or at least, a version of her)—stood by your side, trying to guide you back all this time. Trying to guide you back to the beginning, where perhaps her sins could be atoned for. Where perhaps there could be good still.

So in a lonely field full of flowers, it was not you who were released from the dream.

You had enough eyes to see and slay the presence of the moon, who had orchestrated this all.

We’re all just puppets of the moon.

…But a cord of three strands is not so easily broken.

So in the end you neither woke nor dreamed, but saw the world as it was—though through newborn eyes. A child of the hunt. A child of the dream. Not destined to create a nightmare…but perhaps a better reality.

When the Doll picked up your small body, she smiled at last. She knew you’d succeeded, for this was unlike any hunter’s death, or transformation, she knew. She knew you’d atoned for the sins of your predecessors. She knew you’d freed the children, the nightmares, and the men.

And she called you “good hunter” still. For she knew the gods listened to her prayers after all. She knew that though you were a hunter no more—

You were certainly good.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties!! here is the long awaited part 9!! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did whilst writing it!! a big thank you goes to @emwritesfootball for proofing this part & making sure its up to scratch for all of you lovely readers! Let me know what you think babes hehehe!! Love Always, Steph xx

Part 9. | nona parte

word count; 2006. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Friday 13/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The season kicked off in the middle of August and Amelia had been more than prepared for her first match in the premier league. She spent day after day analysing the players in the first team, introducing them to the magical world of rehearsed tactics. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for the brilliant girl; she had to learn how to implement the plays coupled with the speed of the game. But so far, so good. Chelsea have been winning and her plays have been working, the boys were getting the hang of it - no matter how apprehensive they were at the start.

Jorgi played a big part in demonstrating the success of the play, performing best in his midfield role to guide the game and direct the change in play to his teammates. By the time they had played a few fixtures, they had really gotten the hang of her approach to set pieces and began to put their trust in the young girl. They were starting to see results and wanted to keep the winning streak going while they could. The fourth fixture in the new season was one that Amelia was looking forward to, personally: Chelsea v Aston Villa, Stamford Bridge, 3pm kick off.

Jack and Amelia had grown closer and closer, FaceTime‘dates’ as Jack would call them, a weekly occurrence. She had spoken to him just as much as she had spoken to Jorgi - and they were still carpooling to and from Cobham together. Her friendship with Jack was full of easy conversation and flirtatious banter, teetering over the line of friendship but being that they were kept physically apart, the friendship line remained largely intact. One person that had drifted even further away from her, despite her believing that it couldn't be possible, was Ben Chilwell.

Every time she walked into a room that he was in, if he didn't have to be there he would immediately leave. Amelia didn’t understand what the problem was. Yeah sure, they were flirty together in Mykonos but they never crossed a line together, no matter how many times the wine went straight to their heads. If anything, she should be the one running away from him. She was the one who sent him a couple of messages here and there that he just opened. She spoke to Mason, Jorgi, Billy Gilmour - who was another one of the boys she had developed a strong friendship with - and all of them insisted they didn’t understand their friend's strange behaviour.

On the evening before the Villa match, Amelia was laying on the couch in her townhouse binge watching yet another docu-series on Netflix when her doorbell rang. This was strange, most people that came past the house these days had their own set of keys (her parents, her brother, Jorgi) or they texted to let her know they were outside. Her townhouse was three stories high, so if she was upstairs on the top level vacuuming the chances of her hearing the door were slim to none. Either way, she got up off of her loveseat  and walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole - she lived in London, alone, she wasn’t opening that door until she knew exactly who was on the other side.

______________________________________________________________

“To what do I owe this visit, Benjamin?”

“Hi, Mils.”

“Wow, nickname basis already - I thought only friends called each other by their nicknames.”

“Did you think we weren’t friends?”

“Well, friends don’t treat friends the way you’ve treated me since the evening I left Mykonos.”

With a sigh, Ben looked down at his feet. I did feel a small bit of guilt for that one, but he deserved it. Continuing to find the cracks in the marble step of my door’s threshold more interesting than facing my expression, I took a step back and forced Ben to look up at me.

“Well, are you going to come inside? I’ve got the kettle on and a really good series going that I would like to get back to.”

With a charming smile, Ben took a step forward, took the door handle out of my hand and shut it behind him. Slipping out of his shoes, he followed me down the short hallway to my kitchen and pulled a seat out at the island bench.

“So, really now - why are you here? Nervous about tomorrow?” I questioned as I took two cups out of the cupboard and brewed one tea for him, one coffee for me. 3 years in Italy and coffee in the evening became the norm for me. It was my comfort drink.

“I’m here to apologise for the way I've been acting towards you for the past six weeks. I’ll be honest, I don’t know why I’ve been like this”

“Cut the crap Ben, you know exactly why you’ve been doing it. Now tell me the truth or, as far as I'm concerned, you never came here tonight and tomorrow we will be back to how we were yesterday - you running away from me and me pretending that it doesn't bother me. Even though all it does is bother me.” Not expecting that outburst to come out of me, and to be fair neither did I, Ben looked me in the eye and stayed silent, choosing his next words carefully.

“The first time I saw you, the night you told your brother off in the rec room at St. George’s Park, I thought you were the most determined woman I had ever seen in my life. Not scared of the 30 grown men who were very obviously all on the same side, literally. Then the next time I saw you, after the final match, how you comforted your brother when you were at the highest of highs and he was lower than low, I thought you had more compassion than every person in that stadium put together.”

“When you came to SGP again the next day and delivered the tactical analysis of the game you won, I thought ‘wow she is so intellectually brilliant’. And then when you turned up in Mykonos, all sunkissed and relaxed, sitting next to me and involving me in conversation with my pals but making me feel like you wanted my contribution...I remember it like it was yesterday. Amelia, you smiled at me and my heart did a somersault in my chest.”

“You shut me down outside the club that evening, and when we came back inside I caught the end of your conversation with Jorgi about Fede. Putting two and two together, I understood all that I needed to. The few days after that we carried on like normal. Then, you left and I didn't know if I would ever see you again to be fair. When you messaged me, I got too nervous to reply because I didn't know how to just be your friend. And then when I thought I had finally gotten through a day without thinking about my friend's little sister, you showed up at Cobham as my tactical analyst. I didn’t know what to do Mils, I don't know how to be just your friend when I've had nothing but unfriendly thoughts about you since the first time I saw you command that room of men you had never met in your life.”

The whistle of the kettle ringing out behind me is the only noise filling the kitchen. I’m staring at Ben; he’s staring back at me with nothing but truth behind his eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

“Benj, what you were feeling, what you are feeling is totally valid and I never want you to feel like you can’t share those feelings with me. You’re right, Mykonos changed things for me. What you were feeling was reciprocated, but Ben, I was going back to Italy. At that exact moment, I had no idea I would end up here. I thought I was enjoying a break before another high-intensity season in Italy. I wanted to kiss you so badly at the club that night, but I knew it would only hurt you. I’m used to being hurt, it's a feeling I've grown to expect. But you, you’re too pure to experience the kind of hurt that comes along with knowing you’re making a bad decision, but doing it anyway, because I wanted to be selfish with your heart.”

“Amelia, can I ask you something?” I nodded, holding my breath as I braced myself for the question poised behind his eyes. “If you were in the mood to be selfish, what would have come from that evening?”

“I can probably show you better than I can tell you,”

Walking around the island bench, I pulled the back of Ben’s chair slightly so he pivoted towards me. Standing in between his tracksuit-covered legs, I ran both hands up his arms until I got to his neck and finally beside his face. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled his face towards mine and our lips met. It was as soft as a butterfly kiss but as powerful as anything I had ever felt before. His hands wound around my waist and settled themselves on the small of my back before travelling down and giving my backside a gentle caress, forcing a laugh out of my lips and straight into his mouth. Pulling away slightly, so we both had a bit of breathing space to sort out our lightheadedness, Ben spoke his next words very softly.

“I need you to promise me something, Amelia.You need to promise me that you will stop thinking about my heart before your own. I am old enough to make my own decisions, and the decision to ignore you for these past few weeks has been one of the worst ones I've made in a really long time. But I did make it, and it was because I got scared, and I hurt you, and I am so sorry. The decision to come here tonight however, I feel like it more than makes up for that one very very stupid one”

“You’re such a smooth talker, Benj.”

“Say my name again, Mils, you don’t know what it does to me.”

“Down boy, your tea is going cold and I need to find out who killed Sophie in West Cork.Meet me in the lounge.”

A few hours had passed and it was nearing 10pm, well past Amelia’s bed time, but Ben was still sitting on her couch, feet on the table (despite her telling him to remove them) and arm around the back of her shoulders.

“Chilly, I don’t want you to think I'm not interested in you because I so am, I just don’t want to rush into anything. What I left behind in Italy was complicated and heavy; I'm still trying to learn how to exist without him if I'm honest. I want you to just give me the space I need to grow into my own here in the city, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay, Mils. From what Jorgi has told me about Fede, I can understand why you want to take it slow now. But please, don’t call me Chilly. My friends call me Chilly, and Mills. I thought I made it clear before that I don’t want to be your friend.”

“To me, you’re Benj. Thank you. Wait - what do you mean what Jorgi has told you about Fede?”

“I may have asked a couple times about you, and for the record, he is team Bamelia.”

“Bamelia? That is the ugliest word I have ever heard. Never use it again.”

“How can it be ugly? It's mostly your name, and nothing associated with you could ever be considered anything less than beautiful.”

“Stop being so smooth Benj, you’re going to make me blush in a minute.”

“Good, can’t wait to see how you could possibly look even cuter than you do right now.”

“That’s enough Benjamin.”

“Okay I’m done now.”

Part 10. | parte dieci

[ofclaires]

⌠ MAYA HAWKE, 21, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, CLAIRE WALSH! according to their records, they’re a FOURTH year, specializing in THREAT ELIMINATION; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (chipped black nail polish, a leather jacket with boxing gloves slung over the shoulder, bandaged knuckles, and a wicked smirk). when it’s the (aries)’s birthday on 3/31/99, they always request MAC & CHEESE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kati 22, she/her, est ⍀

STATS / PINTEREST / CONNECTIONS / CLASSES

INSPIRATION.

Rosa Diaz - Brooklyn 99

Kat Stratford - 10 Things I Hate About You

Faith Lehane - Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Mandy Milkovich - Shameless

Akane Owari – Danganronpa

Arya Stark – Game of Thrones

Kim Kelly – Freaks and Geeks

Kyo Sohma – Fruits Basket

BACKGROUND + CLICK FOR BIO.

pre-gallagher.

her parents were young as hell when they had her so she was raised by her grandma in her earlier years ! claire gets a lot of her values from her grandma, mainly her biting sarcasm and devil-may-care sort of attitude. she tells claire stories of her grandfather, who was a champion boxer and it ignites claire’s interest in the sport from a young age. she grows up without a tv and plays outside a lot.  

her grandma dies when claire’s about eight years old and she goes to live with her mom, who spends the money from the will about as fast as it lands in her pocket. her mom dates a lot of unsavory dudes. 

she and her mom actually grow quite close over the years, but a lot of times it’s claire taking care of her mom and not the other way around. the entrance to their trailer is like a revolving door for shady dudes and her mother drinks too much and sort of acts like an overgrown teenager, never ready to let go of her youth. claire learns a lot of responsibility and independence as a result of this. 

her mom finally lands a dude that seems like a genuinely nice guy that makes her want to settle down and become a housewife. claire likes seeing her mom starting to act like an adult, and their lives start to turn around. he’s rich and they wind up moving in with him after the wedding, but things change shortly after, and he reveals a darker, more manipulative and abusive side of himself. 

he takes claire out of her passion, boxing, because it’s not ladylike enough, and he starts talking to claire’s mom about boarding school. it’s then that he starts fighting your mom more physically as they disagree.

the climax of the drama is when he hits claire ( she’s sneaking around and still boxing ) , but claire knows how to hit back hard. claire’s mom gets caught in the fray, it’s a huge fight, and claire nearly kills the guy ( tbi for sure. ) 

as a result of the incident, claire is recruited to a spy prep school in new york at age 16, her sophomore of high school. claire’s angry and closed off, and has a difficult time making friends in high school. but she does go through a lot of anger management and such. 

gallagher academy.

YEAR ONE: claire gets adjusted to school at gallagher academy, determined to prove herself among some of the world’s best. she quickly gains a reputation for her prowess in combat and spends long hours in the gym training. she slowly starts to open herself up to the idea of making friends. 

YEAR TWO: even though claire’s made friends, she still keeps secrets about her past, keeping her guard up. she receives letters from her mom about a new guy she’s seeing, and an invitation to her mother’s wedding. she ignores it. she and her mom still haven’t spoken since she was sixteen. near the end of the year, she gets a postcard that her mom is moving to iceland, but she does nothing about it. 

YEAR THREE: ( where our story started ) 

boys come to campus and claire feels like she has to fight harder for her reputation as THE BEST, isn’t pleased with their presence due to a longstanding distrust when it comes to men. 

claire’s ego is boosted after she’s been chosen for a MISSION, to explore the abandoned boys’ school, blackthorne academy. there, she and mary sakamoto discover that it was a school for assassins. explains why claire keeps getting her ass kicked – these boys have been trained to kill. 

witness protection kids come to campus, resulting in the death of one of them and gallagher student, amelia taylor. claire feels helpless as a result, always thinking of herself as a protector and gallagher has always been her stronghold, her safe place, and it all feels threatened. 

claire has a falling out with a friend and feels super alone with all this shit going on and winds out reaching out to her mom. i wrote a self-para here, but her mom invites her to come stay for the summer. 

when a brotherhood member is discovered on campus, she teams up with a group of...unlikely allies, and sneaks into the sublevels to kick his ass. his current status is unknown, and he’s quite possibly dead. either way, as far as she knows, they were never caught. 

claire visits her mom in iceland for the summer (details here) and they sort of mend things. she meets her moms new husband and actually likes him. 

PERSONALITY.

DETERMINED – when claire sets her mind to something, she will stop at nothing to accomplish it. she’d probably even risk death to accomplish her goals, she simply can’t accept failure.

HARD-WORKING – claire can pretty much always be found in the gym, trying to make herself better. it’s honestly a running joke how often claire is working out, but there’s a basis in it. honestly, claire thinks her only value is her muscle, so if that’s what she’s good at, she’s going to be the best. she’s that kid in your gym class that’s going way too hard for no fucking reason like calm down. 

BRAVE – there’s little that claire fears, and even her fears don’t generally stop her from accomplishing her goals. you could chalk up some of her bravery to determination, but she’s been through enough that she doesn’t really stop to consider what she’s going to lose. so maybe it’s also stupidity!

LOYAL – it’s really challenging for claire to form connections, but when she does, she latches on. when she cares for someone, she really cares for them, and she’s pretty ride or die. this sort of loyalty can be a burden for some of her friends, because she can be somewhat overbearing. 

ANGRY – claire’s probably best known for her anger, it’s like she walks around with a fuse waiting to be lit at the slightest inconvenience. funnily enough, her training has made her better at controlling it, but she’s still known to snap. 

RECKLESS – claire often acts impulsively, says the first thought in her mind, does the first thing she can think to do in order to solve a problem. act first, ask questions later is usually her mantra, and sometimes it saves her ass – and sometimes it comes back to bite her in it. 

DISTANT – claire finds it hard to open up or form connections with people, not often readily sharing her feels with people. she’s really averse to personal questions but she’s gotten better about sharing things about herself since making more friends at gallagher. still, she’s somewhat hard to get to know. i will refer you to this musing. 

BRASH – she’s pretty cocky to a point that often comes off as rude, but the positive spin on it is that you’ll always know where you stand with claire. whether it’s good or bad, she’s up front, but most people she trains with are probably sick of her arrogance. 

HEADCANONS/RANDOM FACTS.

can usually be found exercising. she’s really into sports and fitness and prior to the berlin internship, she used to spend her summers working at summer camps for athletes-in-training. she’s a pretty good coach, and tutors some of the other students that need help with their athletic prowess, although she’s described as a bit intense.

identified as bisexual until fairly recently, realizing that she doesn’t care or have much interest in romantic relationships with men ! so, now she identifies as a lesbian. 

cannot sit through a movie to save her life, claire’s easily distracted and bored, always needing something to do. she didn’t grow up with a television set in her home either, so she hasn’t seen many movies and is a little out of touch with all things pop culture. 

takes pictures like a mom, if you ask her to take a photo of you it’ll probably a) be a little blurry, b) have her thumb in it, or c) both.

really likes podcasts! she listens to them a lot during her workouts, while she runs the track, or anything else. claire’s not exactly known for her intelligence ( among the astronomical iqs of other gallagher students at least ) but she can spout some knowledge on things you wouldn’t expect. 

generally a hard-ass but she’s a softie around animals, particularly dogs or cats, but catch her cooing and talking in a baby voice around puppies, she’s like a completely different person, pretty much. 

drink of choice is whiskey, neat. 

despite her preference for hand to hand combat, threat elimination has given her a multitude of skills. she keeps two knives on her at all times and sometimes wears a bulletproof vest for kicks. she’s prepared for anything.

[fortune-fool02]

The Hunter

Jack Rutherford x female reader

This is just a tester to see if I can write Jack Rutherford’s character from Code Vein (Amazing game). I’m not sure if I will continue writing for him but it all depends.

Feedback is appreciated please. Please enjoy.

The Hunter. A person or animal that hunts. A killer that seeks out its prey and slaughters it without mercy. That was what Jack was known as. A shadow that many revenants feared to cross. And truthfully, he did not care. Why should he care what revenants think of him?

Shadows shrouded him as he watched a handful of Lost wander aimlessly for food, some fighting over some scrapes of a corpse that was more bone than flesh. This was what became of the once thriving city, nothing but a skeleton of what it was once. Disappointment tugged at him. As Jack turned away to leave, he heard something. A scream. His head turned towards the direction of the sound to see a small child sprinting with all their might as a handful of Lost chased after them. 

His grip of his sword tightened, normally Jack would turn away from this as he had Eva to take care of but something clawed at him to save this child. Using the roofs as an advantage point, Jack followed after them, a shadow gliding among the darkness. 

The small girl had reached a dead end within the park, the collapsed ledge falling down into an abyss that no one has escaped; once fallen they are never seen again. She turned away from the drop to see the Lost surrounding her, fear radiated off of her the way hunger radiated from the Lost that cornered her. Tears welled in her eyes, she was trapped. 

Just as Jack was about to leap from the shadows and attack, another figure beat him to it, seeming to materialise from the air with her weapon drawn to strike. The first Lost crumbled to ash, followed by a second one before the remaining could register what happened. This second figure -a [Hair colour] female- was fluent with her movements, almost bouncing one her feet to avoid the Lost’s attacks now that they have recovered from the little shock. 

Determination was burned into her face, even from his distance and through her filter mask, Jack could see it clear as day. However, despite her fluent movements and powerful strikes, she was still outnumbered. A shift of movement caught Jack’s attention, he turned to see the child watching the [Hair colour] woman fight, oblivious to the two Lost crawling from the cliff’s edge behind her. 

His sword drawn, Jack emerged from the shadows and brought his blade down on the Lost’s head, kicking its corpse off the ledge before decapitating the second one. The small girl, who also had [Hair colour] hair, looked up at him with admiration swirling around in her eyes. Jack didn’t stay to examine the girl as the older [Hair colour] one was knocked to the ground, her weapon kicked away from her as a Lost pinned her down, attempting to rip at her throat. 

In a swift movement, Jack’s blade sliced through the Lost’s neck, removing its head and forcing its body off of her. The remaining Lost were already nothing but dust. This woman was stronger than she appeared but she was outnumbered. She would have died if not for him. Her and the small girl. 

Before either of them could react, one final Lost leaped from ledge, its claws aiming for Jack’s head, ready to rip it from his shoulders when a yell was heard. [Name]’s weapon came swinging down onto the Lost’s head before Jack could slice his blade, shattering its skull against the ground and crumbling to dust. Beside where the Lost once was, was the small girl clutching onto the weapon the older woman was using. 

Jack was surprised. This young child, not even a teen, saw the danger before he did and terminated it, saving his life.  

Her [Eye colour] eyes locked onto his exposed eye, the determination that fuelled her fight remained present though it was calm, like a wildfire being tamed and controlled into a soft, gentle candle. No rage, no anger, just a soft warmth of light to comfort one. She tore her gaze away from him when the small girl spoke. 

“[Name]!” the small girl lept into the older girl’s -[Name]’s- arms, wrapping them around her tightly as if the Lost would return and snatched her away from her. [Name] held onto the child with just as much love, a protective hold. At this little display, it was safe to assume they were sisters, that and their resemblance.    

“Amelia, I’m so glad you’re okay.” [Name] said, her hold tightening on the young girl but not enough to harm her. “I thought I lost you for a moment.” Amelia pulled away enough to look at her older sister. 

“You nearly did, but then he saved me.” she rose her hand and pointed at Jack. [Name]’s gaze returned to him, taking in his appearance properly before her [Eye colour] orbs widened. Suddenly, she pulled her sister behind her, shielding her from him. 

“H-Hunter.” She lowered her head to him, bowing in an apologetic manner as if she had committed a great crime and wished for forgiveness. “Please, d-don’t hurt my sister. We didn’t mean to trouble you.” As she spoke, Jack tilted his head slightly. She has heard the tales of him, how he killed friend or foe without mercy. Amelia’s eyes glanced between her sister and him, seeming to struggle to understand her sister’s fear but not questioning it. 

Slowly, [Name] reached into a small pouch on her side, pulling out a Blood Bead and holding it out for him. This action surprised him somewhat. She was willing to sacrifice a Blood Bead in hopes that he would not harm them?

His hand rested on the Blood Bead and pushed it back towards her, earning a confused yet shocked look from her. “Keep it. You will need it more than I do.” he said to her. His gaze fell to Amelia who looked up at him with an innocent look he has not seen in this place for a long time. It... reminded him of Eva, in a way. 

“You just saved my life, Amelia.” He rose his hand and patted her [Hair colour] locks a little, making the little girl smile. He turned to [Name], picking her weapon up and handing it to her. She reached out and grabbed the handle but he didn’t release his grip. 

“Be careful out here. A place like this is nowhere for a young child.” she looked down slightly and he released his hold on her weapon. 

“I know. We were looking for a safe place to rest when the Lost attacked. I tried to protect Amelia but there were so many, so I told her to run.” Jack noticed how the small girl hugged her sister from the side. She fought to protect her little sister, willing to risk life and limb to keep her safe. Something he understood all too well. 

“There’s a place you can go. They’ll take you in without question.” he told her. He rose his hand and pointed towards the church where Louis and his friends had taken refuge. “There’s a church a few miles that way. Ask for Louis and tell him I sent you. He will take you in.” [Name] looked in the direction he pointed, a chance for a security for her little sister. No more running around for a safe place. 

She turned to him, “Thank you so, so much Hunter.” his lips twitched under his mask at this. A warmth brushed at his skin at that look in her [Eye colour] eyes. 

“My name is Jack Rutherford.” he told her before disappearing in a small mist of red. 

[nellie-elizabeth]

Grey's Anatomy: Give a Little Bit (16x18)

I knew Andrew was gonna be right... ugh... poor thing.

Cons:

I really cannot get a read on how I'm meant to feel about Teddy right now, but I basically think she's the worst. She's hurting Tom, she cheated on Owen, she seems completely selfish in all of her motivations. She thought Owen might have gotten another woman pregnant before they were even together, and because of that she slept with another man multiple times. Like... how am I supposed to feel sympathy? This whole plot thread is attempting to paint Owen as this super sweet, super good guy who is being hurt by those around him, but let's be real. Owen has the most terminal case of Nice Guy syndrome I've ever seen in my life, and he gets away with being emotionally unfaithful by giving puppy-dog eyes to everyone. I think he's boring and I think he's scummy.

The hospital is having a pro bono surgery day, and things are chaotic and way too busy, so Meredith extends the day, and says they're going to have pro bono surgeries once a month. This is after she finds out that the billionaire dude from last week's episode gave an insane amount of funding to the hospital, and she learns about Koracick's unethical practices to get that money. I agree that the American healthcare system is bonkers, and it's nice to see the show tackle that in a more meaningful way this season. But all of this just seems wacky to me. Can Meredith really make a promise like that? Wouldn't you think that doing something so ostentatious would draw attention to the hospital and make it more likely that Koracick's crime would be discovered?

Okay, so, the DeLuca situation is that he suspects a woman of human trafficking who comes in to the ER. He's been acting erratic, though, so people don't believe him until it escalates. Turns out, as we see when the woman and her victim leave, DeLuca was right, and they got away. I don't mind the idea of DeLuca having some issues and also being right, but the problem is in the way he couldn't get a single other person to take him seriously. Even Bailey only did a cursory once-over before deciding that DeLuca was delusional. If any other doctor had raised that concern, everyone would have taken it more seriously. I guess I just wish for a bit more balance on this kind of thing, and I hope Bailey feels like crap for doubting him when the truth comes out.

Pros:

Jackson had this cute little subplot where he goes around trying to find someone to go to a basketball game with him. Vic was supposed to go, but they've broken up. He asks Owen, who turns him down. He asks Jo, who is offended at being a backup choice. He asks Hayes, who says it's not really his thing. Jackson has been pissing me off this season, so I'm always on the lookout to be frustrated by the plot threads he's given. But I like how his loneliness and feelings post-breakup have led to him seeking companionship in this sweet way.

He and Maggie have a totally civil exchange as they talk about Richard and Catherine's divorce, and it turns out Jackson has been trying not to take sides, but of course Richard doesn't know that. With guidance from Maggie, Jackson asks Richard to go to the basketball game, and he gleefully accepts. I thought that was really cute! It's nice to see Maggie and Jackson acting like adults around each other for once, and Richard and Jackson finding ways to stay close is something I didn't know I wanted to see until I had seen it.

So... Levi and Nico have broken up. This has been the way the wind was blowing for a while. There's a part of me that feels frustrated that Nico didn't get a fair shake from the writers. We didn't get much time to actually learn about him as a person, separate from what he meant to Levi. But that said, if we take Nico's behavior at face value, Levi really needed to get out of that relationship. Just the fact that Levi wanted to talk, and Nico said "what now" is enough of a red flag for me on its own. What the hell, Nico. And I think Levi is in this strange position of feeling a special connection to Nico because he helped him realize who he is, and come to terms with his sexuality. And yet honestly, Nico has not treated him well recently. At all. And Levi is learning how to be in a relationship, learning how to ask for what he wants. It's not unreasonable to expect to be at least a consideration in Nico's mind as he contemplates taking a job that will keep him on the road half the time. The fact that Nico doesn't take Levi into account is proof that they're not on the same page.

Jo's struggle this week is about what people should call her. She's not Dr. Karev anymore, and she doesn't like Dr. Wilson either... so for now she'll be Dr. Jo. Obviously I'm going to be frustrated about the Alex thing for a very long time, but if this is what we have to work with, I'm glad Jo is doing alright in the aftermath. She's sleeping on her couch instead of her bed, but at least she's sleeping. She's grumpy about going into work, but at least she goes.

My favorite exchange in the whole episode goes to Jo and Levi, actually. As they both lament the ends of their relationships together, Jo offers to let Levi come stay with her for a while. He replies: "Jo, that time in my mom's basement was a one-time thing, I'm a gay man." Jo lets out a peel of her infectious, joyous laughter, and says: "That's why you're getting the invite, dummy!" I've always loved Jo's laugh, and it was really heartening to see her in a place where she could be cheerful like that. I'm all for Levi and Jo being weird roommates for a bit!

The ongoing saga of Owen/Teddy/Koracick/Amelia/Link drama will never fail to piss me off, but it does appear that one "branch" of the drama is officially over. Last week I hoped that Amelia would tell Owen right away that the baby's not his, so we could knock off at least one cause of stupid angst. And lo and behold - right at the start of the episode, Amelia marches into the room, and tells Owen and Teddy both: "the baby is Link's!" I was so happy about this, even as I continue to be pissed off at Teddy for trying to use the possible paternity of Amelia's baby as an excuse for her infidelity.

Tom Koracick really is a good man. He talks about how he's slept with a lot of women, but he has a code about it, and he's not going to sleep with Teddy if she's married. He basically lets her go, and tells her to go fix things with Owen. See, despite all of this stupid shit with him basically accepting a bribe, I still really like this character and I want him around more. Teddy doesn't deserve him, frankly. Maybe Owen does. Have I mentioned that I'm not a fan of Owen?

While there's something ridiculous about the whole "pro bono days every month" thing, and I wish we could get more into the ramifications, I will say that I love the way the broken healthcare system is being demonstrated, by showing all of these patients that the system has failed. Particularly, a black woman in extreme pain who has been turned away by several doctors, and a veteran who has severe PTSD and has been lashing out and having seizures. Both of these patients are having to advocate way, way too hard to get the help they need, and Meredith responds to this, vowing to do what she can to help. These stories really worked to highlight the situation. They were memorable and they made me want to see success!

I think that's where I'll stop. There are things about this show that will always frustrate me, but there are also always thing to enjoy. That's my mantra when it comes to Grey's Anatomy!

7.5/10