#living the army wife life Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[kiwibomb]

wonho lq icons! please like or reblog if you save it! ☀️

[ahmedalnabih54]

📢🚨My name is Ahmed Alnabih. I am 33 years old, married, and part of a large family with three brothers and four sisters. We once lived in Gaza, where I grew up and built my life. But today, my family and I are living in a tent, in unimaginable conditions—surrounded by mud, soaked from the rain, and overwhelmed by uncertainty.☹️

The Israeli army ordered us to evacuate our home in Gaza. With heavy hearts, we fled south, taking only what little we could carry. Not long after, we received the devastating news that our house—our home—was completely destroyed. Everything I had worked for, everything that held the memories of my family, was reduced to rubble.😭😭

Now, we live in a tent, struggling to stay dry, to stay warm. The rain beats down on us as the ground turns to mud beneath our feet. The cold seeps into our bones at night, and hope feels more distant with each passing day.☹️

I never thought I would find myself in this situation, forced to rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But here I am, asking for help, not just for myself but for my family, who have lost everything. I want to rebuild a safe home for my wife, my brothers, and my sisters. I want to give them a future, something to hold onto when everything else has been taken away.🥹

Please, if you can, donate. Every little bit brings us closer to rebuilding what we have lost and giving my family a sense of safety and dignity once more.🙏🫂❤️

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸

Here is love and war!

To donate click here⬇️🔗

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[ahmedsal-1qa]

⛔ please help my family don't skip 🛑

Hello, My name is Ahmad Mohammed Hassan Salah, a 33-year-old man from Gaza, Palestine. Under the sky of Gaza, amidst the war and shelling, begins my story. I lived my life in the northern part of Gaza with my wife and three children, dreaming of a secure future for my small family. Nada, my seven-year-old eldest daughter, loves to draw, though her colors have disappeared amid the rubble 🎨💔. Mohamed, my five-year-old son, still dreams of playing in a garden untouched by bombs 🛝💔. As for Huda, my two-year-old, she has started uttering her first words amid the sounds of explosions 🍼💔.

The tragedy began one night of the war when I was forced to leave my home under continuous bombardment 💣😔. I carried my children and my anxious wife, running through the debris and darkness in search of a safe haven 🌪️. Our journey was fraught with dangers, as we left everything behind: our home, memories, and even our money and food 🏚️💔. After a long journey, we found ourselves in southern Gaza, where we set up a small tent as a temporary refuge ⛺😞.

The tent, small as it was, became our new world. Without mattresses to shield us from the cold nights or blankets to protect us from the rain 🌧️❄️, life was harsh. The children slept on the ground, and I struggled to provide any food to feed my family 🍞💔. But the war showed us no mercy. After only three months, we were forced to move once again, this time to central Gaza. The Israeli army described it as a "safe zone," but the shelling followed us like an unrelenting shadow 💔💣.

More than a year has passed, and my family and I continue to live under bombardment and destruction 🌋💔. Each day brings with it a new story of suffering. Food is scarce 🍽️, water is contaminated 🚱, and fear never leaves my children's hearts 😔💔. Nada has started asking, "When will this war end?" 😢. Mohamed tries to comfort his mother, who weeps in silence 😭💔. As for Huda, she knows no world other than one filled with terrifying sounds 🥺.

I also suffer from a chronic illness, and I have a medical report confirming my condition 🏥💔. However, the pain of my illness is less than the anguish I see in my children's eyes 💔😔. I try to be strong, but I sometimes break down when I cannot provide food for them 🥺. My wife stands by me, trying to bring hope, but even hope has become a rare commodity 💔.

Amidst the devastation, I want to send a message to the world: "We are human. Our children deserve a better life. We just want safety. All I want is to sleep one night without fearing that my children will wake up to the sound of explosions." 🙏💔

Due to this ongoing suffering, I appeal to the world through Tumblr to raise donations for my family and for other families experiencing similar circumstances 🌍💔. If you are able to provide any assistance, no matter how small, it would mean so much to us 🙏🫂. You can help by donating food, clothing, or even essential medications that we desperately need 💊🛒. I kindly ask you to share our story on Tumblr, because spreading it may reach kind hearts all over the world—hearts that can offer help and save the lives of my children and the children of Gaza from this hell ❤️🕊️.

My story is not just an individual one; it represents thousands of families in Gaza living in conditions that are unimaginable 💔. The question remains: How long will this suffering continue? And will the day come when Nada can draw a sun without it being covered by the smoke of war? 🌞✏️💔

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #280 )✅️

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters

[queerism1969]

Notable transgender people from history

Here's the list I put together for when people on non-trans subreddits claim we didn't exist until recently:

Ashurbanipal (669-631BCE) - King of the Neo-Assryian empire, who according to Diodorus Siculus is reported to have dressed, behaved, and socialized as a woman.

Elagabalus (204-222) - Roman Emperor who preferred to be called a lady and not a lord, presented as a woman, called herself her lover's queen and wife, and offered vast sums of money to any doctor able to make her anatomically female.

Kalonymus ben Kalonymus (1286-1328) - French Jewish philosopher who wrote poetry about longing to be a woman.

Eleanor Rykener (14th century) - trans woman in London who was questioned under charges of sex work

[Thomas(ine) Hall](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas(ine)_Hall) - (1603-unknown) - English servant in colonial Virginia who alternated between presenting as a woman and presenting as a man, before a court ruled that they were both a man and a woman simultaneously, and were required to wear both men's and women's clothing simultaneously.

Chevalier d'Eon (1728-1810) - French diplomat, spy, freemason, and soldier who fought in the Seven Years' War, who transitioned at the age of 49 and lived the remaining 33 years of her life as a woman.

Public Universal Friend (1752-1819) - Quaker religious leader in revolutionary era America who identified and lived as androgynous and genderless.

Surgeon James Barry (1789-1865) - Trans man and military surgeon in the British army.

Berel - a Jewish trans man who transitioned in a shtetel in Ukraine in the 1800's, and whose story was shared with the Jewish Daily Forward in a 1930 letter to the editor by Yeshaye Kotofsky, a Jewish immigrant in Brooklyn who knew Berel

Mary Jones (1803-unknown) - trans woman in New York whose 1836 trial for stealing a man's wallet received much public attention

Albert Cashier (1843-1915) - Trans man who served in the US Civil War.

Harry Allen (1882-1922) - Trans man who was the subject of sensationalistic newspaper coverage for his string of petty crimes.

Lucy Hicks Anderson (1886–1954) - socialite, chef and hostess in Oxnard California, whose family and doctors supported her transition at a young age.

Lili Elbe (1882-1931) - Trans woman who underwent surgery in 1930 with Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld, who ran one of the first dedicated medical facilities for trans patients.

Karl M. Baer (1885-1956) - Trans man who underwent reconstructive surgery (the details of which are not known) in 1906, and was legally recognized as male in Germany in 1907.

Dr. Alan Hart (1890-1962) - Groundbreaking radiologist who pioneered the use of x-ray photography in tuberculosis detection, and in 1917 he became one of the first trans men to undergo hysterectomy and gonadectomy in the US.

[Louise Lawrence](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louise_Lawrence_(activist)) (1912–1976) - trans activist, artist, writer and lecturer, who transitioned in the early 1940's. She struck up a correspondence with the groundbreaking sexologist Dr. Alfred Kinsey as he worked to understand sex and gender in a more expansive way. She wrote up life histories of her acquaintances for Kinsey, encouraged peers to do interviews with him, and sent him a collection of newspaper clippings, photographs, personal correspondences, etc.

Dr. Michael Dillon (1915-1962) - British physician who updated his birth certificate to Male in the early 1940's, and in 1946 became the first trans man to undergo phalloplasty.

Reed Erickson (1917-1992) - trans man whose philanthropic work contributed millions of dollars to the early LGBTQ rights movement

Willmer "Little Ax" Broadnax (1916-1992) - early 20th century gospel quartet singer.

Peter Alexander (unknown, interview 1937) - trans man from New Zealand, discusses his transition in this interview from 1937

Christine Jorgensen (1926-1989) - The first widely known trans woman in the US in 1952, after her surgery attracted media attention.

Miss Major Griffin-Gracy (1940-present) - Feminist, trans rights and gay rights activist who came out and started transition in the late 1950's. She was at Stonewall, was injured and taken into custody, and had her jaw broken by police while in custody. She was the first Executive Director of the Transgender Gender Variant Intersex Justice Project, which works to end human rights abuses against trans/intersex/GNC people in the prison system.

Sylvia Rivera (1951-2002) - Gay liberation and trans rights pioneer and community worker in NYC; co-founded STAR, a group dedicated to helping homeless young drag queens, gay youth, and trans women

Marsha P. Johnson (1945-1992) - Gay liberation and trans rights pioneer; co-founded STAR with Sylvia Rivera

[quotidian-oblivion]

For the Merlin asks

8, 11, 13!

Heyoo!!!

8. One off character you wish had a bigger part.

11. Random Knights Headcanon.

13. Random Servant Headcanon.

~

8:

Freya. She's not exactly one-off but I so so desperately wish she played a bigger part.

Because, c'mon. SHE'S THE DAMN LADY OF THE LAKE.

Magic beautiful water cat woman who guards the gates to death.

She deserves more than just being a mysterious hand who held and caught a sword. And Merlin deserved to have a secret water wife (i also love Freylin <33). Just think of the many possibilities and plots that could have happened. Just- just imagine. This is why i'm depressed.

11:

I told this to @tireddruid in conversation once and put it in one of my fics too, but I believe that after the Lamia incident, Gwaine woke up in the middle of the night after being recovered from what the Lamia did to him and then realized what he had done to Merlin. So he immediately went to Merlin's hut in the village they were staying in and just. starting crying. Silently and hard, beside Merlin's bed, full of remorse because damn it Gwaine's whole concept was that nobility came from the heart, not by blood. And what he did under the Lamia's spell wasn't noble at all.

Besides that, Merlin was his friend. The first person who took him to his home - gave up his own bed - to look after him while he was heavily drunk and barely capable of standing without support and didn't resent or rob him after that. Merlin was kind, caring, loyal and never - never - deserving of that kind of treatment or close to it. He was his first friend. He was why he became a knight. He was why Gwaine risked his neck to protect a noble and a royal. He was why Gwaine enteres the lands of hell. He was why Gwaine jumped into a battle against an undead army. Simply because Merlin asked. Simply because Merlin cared for him without cost when no one else did and wanted him to stay.

Who would want to lose a treasure of a friend like that?

Merlin then woke up 30 minutes later to find the crying mess of a knight and immediately knew that whatever doubts he had been having about the knights since the Lamia was untrue and Gwaine (and later the others too) would never willingly hold him in that regard. They fortunately didn't harm him too much, and it would take a while for Merlin to not flinch every time any of the knights made sudden movements towards him, but he would recover. And he would remember, just why he decided to befriend them.

13:

Agh. I thought about this one. And I don't particularly think much about characters beyond the main ones unless they relate to a plot of mine.

But one thing I assumed (but the show never confirmed) is that Merlin is quite popular among the servants.

I mean, does anyone remember Tyr Stewart? The guy evil!Gwen killed? He was outright threatened with death and his mother too, the poor man was traumatized and scared and anxious. Yet, he opened up to Merlin after some coaxing.

I don't think just anyone would open up to a random stranger, even in a higher power with the potential to end your life (cuz Merlin is tge manservant to the king), and trust them with information regarding yours and your loved one's lives. But he did with Merlin.

And this just proves to me that Merlin is in fact quite popular and friendly with the servants and patients and other commoners. The cook hates him, hey, but none of the other servants snitched on him when he snagged a pastry or dumpling or two. Especially not after Merlin sneaked them a piece ;)

~

Thank you so much for the asksssssss! I had loads of fun thinking them up :D

[ahmedalnabih32]

🚨📢My name is Ahmed Alnabih. I am 33 years old, married, and part of a large family with three brothers and four sisters. We once lived in Gaza, where I grew up and built my life. But today, my family and I are living in a tent, in unimaginable conditions—surrounded by mud, soaked from the rain, and overwhelmed by uncertainty.🥹

The Israeli army ordered us to evacuate our home in Gaza. With heavy hearts, we fled south, taking only what little we could carry. Not long after, we received the devastating news that our house—our home—was completely destroyed. Everything I had worked for, everything that held the memories of my family, was reduced to rubble.☹️

Now, we live in a tent, struggling to stay dry, to stay warm. The rain beats down on us as the ground turns to mud beneath our feet. The cold seeps into our bones at night, and hope feels more distant with each passing day.😭

I never thought I would find myself in this situation, forced to rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But here I am, asking for help, not just for myself but for my family, who have lost everything. I want to rebuild a safe home for my wife, my brothers, and my sisters. I want to give them a future, something to hold onto when everything else has been taken away.🥹

Please, if you can, donate. Every little bit brings us closer to rebuilding what we have lost and giving my family a sense of safety and dignity once more.🙏❤️

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸

Here is love and war!

Campaign link:⬇️🔗

@90-ghost @heritageposts @neechees @butchniqabi @fluoresensitivearchived @khangerinedreams @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @officialspec @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria @shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @neptunerings @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriaada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @jdon @ibtisams-blog @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhatergirl @ot3 @lapithae @ryo-yamada @opencommunion @anneemay-blog @tamamita

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 34

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, injuries, amputation of leg, Rhaegar POV

Words: 5480

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

“Open the gate!!!” Shouted the men atop of the fortress. Rain pelted their helmets and the wild wind threatened to knock them off the battlements.

Nearly painfully slow, the portcullis that groaned in reply was pulled up so the men waiting on the ground could hurry in. Tired, battered, and many suffering from illness brought on by the cold, the men huddled inside.

Tattered banners featuring stags and other sigils of the houses that made up Rhaegar’s army are dropped to the floor in relief.

Rhaegar gazed up at the dark gray sky above his head that washed them with it’s despotic rain. He welcomed it and closed his eyes in a sense of relief. Not considering themselves safe by any means, at least they had respite from their most recent failure. Spirits dampened, everyone needed time to mend and breathe.

Storm’s End lived up to its name, as did the Stormlands. When escaping from near the Kingswoods, they were met by scouts lurking in the trees in an attempt to pick off any survivors. The Silver Prince’s army, though lowered in number, were still plenty to eliminate the rest of Aerys’ men that were there. It was a disheartening battle though, and it was clear to Rhaegar they needed to hoof it to Storm’s End. His men couldn’t afford another attack. If another were to arise, it would most likely end him; something Rhaegar did not want to see come true.

Having been waiting for their lord’s arrival, the occupants of Storm’s End great house of Baratheon, leapt into action; taking the wounded to be cared for, feeding the hungry and directing men to where they can sleep.

Rhaegar was helped off of his horse and he watched the stable hands take his mare away to the stalls where the other horses were being tended to.

Even behind the fortress, the tall trees of the Stormlands towered over the walls and pierced the sky. Branches thick with plush pine needles sway and creak but do not bend to the will of the storm. They are of this land and are made of sturdier material. As far as the eye could see, a field of rich trees that offered protection.

In the distance, Rhaegar could hear Lord Robert Baratheon handing out orders to those who were just standing around.

When Rhaegar turns to look at his comrade instead he comes face to face with eyes like the storm above and the glossiest black hair he had ever seen.

Lyanna Stark.

Well, she was Lady Lyanna Baratheon now. Had been for quite some time.

The sight of her was still unnerving and nearly threw Rhaegar off of his weary feet.

She stood in front of him at a distance, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she acted the part of Lady of Storm’s End. Her northern cloak of warm furs enveloped her as they were suitable for this weather as well. Face pale with cheeks pink from the whipping winds, it’s like time hadn’t touched her. His Winter Rose. Yet the immediate love he had felt for her when they had first met did not flicker back to life. That wick was already spent and extinguished.

Her proud face is tilted up. “Your Grace. Welcome to Storm’s End.”

An uncanny feeling arose in him, unable to recall how he used to be around her. Parting his lips and unsure of what to say, Rhaegar is saved by Robert who sprints to his wife the moment he spots her.

“There’s my wife!” Face that had once been lined with exhaustion blooms and brightens when he scoops her up in his arms. Alarmed, Lyanna remains stiff in his arms; glancing at Rhaegar. Robert sets down Lyanna and cups her face, forcing her to return his loving gaze. “How I have missed you, dear Lyanna.”

“I’m glad you��re home safely.” A forced smile urges her mouth to turn up. It didn’t reach those gray pools of her eyes though, that was clear to Rhaegar. When Lyanna was truly happy, her eyes would scrunch up as she smiled until they were the shape of half moons. He had dreamed of her smiling moon eyes, branded into his mind. Hadn’t it been so long ago that he had been in love with this woman? Now he could hardly bring back the memory of that warm feeling she gave him.

“Your Grace. . .” A young man apprehensively approaches Rhaegar, his brown eyes quickly glancing at the scar on his face before moving to the dirt covered ground. He pursed his lips before starting again “You must be awfully tired. Please, allow me to show you to your chambers. There is a hot bath being prepared for you.”

Robert gently moves Lyanna to his side. “Yes, go and rest now. We’ll have time to strategize later. For now, catch your breath.”

He didn’t wish to rest. That was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to keep fighting. Aerys had dealt him a hard blow that he had to recover from quickly. Wars may not be won in a day, but there was still much he could do.

The closeness of Storm’s End to the Kingswood was another concerning factor in which Rhaegar couldn’t ignore. Even though he had been admiring the tall trees that surrounded them, a voice in his head also whispered how there could be enemies hiding and waiting like they had been on their journey.

Half tempted to burn it all down, Rhaegar knew that that was something Aerys would think of. He hated the moments when he found himself thinking the exact same way his father did.

Following his gaze, Robert walks over to him. Rain had made his mane of black hair smooth down close to his scalp with his dark beard catching beads of raindrops. Atop of the battlements, figures of men could be made out with bows at the ready and waiting.

“What are the defense protocols you have for invaders?” Rhaegar asks him. He couldn’t rest without being assured that there were proper defenses set in place.

Robert chuckles a little. “You forget that Storm’s End was able to destroy the Vulture King’s army not once, but twice.”

There was little Robert’s words could do to soothe Rhaegar. The young boy who had been waiting on the prince seemed unsure of what to do as Rhaegar sighed. “I will rest. Once I see Oberyn and Arthur.”

Seeing Arthur lifted a weight from Rhaegar’s chest. There next to Arthur’s bed was a dozing Oberyn, his shirt off to reveal the massive wrap stuck to his left side from where the wildfire had eaten away his skin and nearly making it to his core. His complexion was pale, black hair tied back into a low ponytail and out of his face. The castle’s maester was checking on Arthur’s stump of a leg for any signs of infection.

A squire announces Rhaegar’s presence quietly but it was enough to stir Oberyn, eyes fluttering open lazily. Grunting when repositioning himself, the maester scolds him for disturbing his wound. Oberyn waves off the graying man to sit up. “Your Grace.”

“How are you feeling?” Rhaegar pulls his eyes away from the maester wrapping Arthur’s stump. His prodding made Arthur grumble in his sleep. A feverish sleep that caused a light sheen of sweat that made his dark hair look limp.

“Better off than Ser Arthur.” Oberyn’s personal squire immediately rushes to his side with a flagon of what Rhaegar presumed was filled to the brim with rich wine that the Dornishman loved so much. “I was worried he wouldn’t survive the journey.”

He took the container from his squire and tossed his head back. It made Rhaegar’s own dry mouth parched but he didn’t care to remedy it. Instead guilt swelled in him at the sight of Arthur’s sick body.

The maester informed him quietly that while there was no infection, Arthur had developed a fever from traveling in such torrential weather. It weakened his body and the maester warned if his stump was not cleaned regularly, he would succumb to even more disease.

Outside the rain pelted the glass of the sickroom, offering a soothing sound that accompanied Arthur’s labored breathing.

“He will live though?”

Nodding, the maester moved aside for Rhaegar to inspect his comrade. “He will live. Although he may never be able to fight again. Not with his misshapen leg.”

Oberyn glared at the older man. “We’ll see about that. If I know Arthur, then he won’t let one missing leg slow him down. What do you maesters know. I will send a letter to my brother to request our own physician.”

Taking offense, the maester appeared to want to say something in retaliation until Rhaegar shot him a look. Oberyn was only saying such things out of frustration and weariness although Rhaegar didn’t doubt that come the morning he would send out his missive to Dorne. More than likely, the physician of Sunspear wouldn’t arrive before the week’s end. The journey from Dorne to the Stormlands had always proved to be a troublesome one.

Backing down with a grimace, the maester bows and leaves the room; having done all he could for the Sword of the Morning. Oberyn tells his squire to leave him be for the time being so that now only Oberyn and the Silver Prince were left.

“I’m surprised Ser Connington isn’t lingering behind you.” Oberyn scoffs and takes another sip from his flagon. He winces, slightly holding onto his side. “He’s like your red shadow.”

“Even Griff needs rest.” Rhaegar pulls over a chair and sits down. Even though he had been riding his horse day and night, this type of comfort was enough to send him to sleep. The most simple of comforts that Rhaegar didn’t know he missed. There was pressure building behind his eyes and unconsciously he grabs at his belt where his vial of milk of the poppy used to reside. He had forgotten that he had given the last of it to Arthur. A bit frustrated, he sighs and closes his eyes. “More than half of our men were decimated by the wildfire. I don’t know how we’re going to regroup.”

“Damn those spineless lords for betraying you. They deserved to have their heads severed.” grumbles Oberyn who glances again at Arthur. His face softens a bit. “He will fight again. I’ve known him since he was a young man. Arthur won’t let this stop him.”

“That is if the Mad King doesn’t blast Storm’s End with wildfire.”

“It was the closest fortress. We couldn’t afford to run back to Dorne. I don’t think our wounded men would have survived. Besides, Aerys couldn’t possibly have more wildfire ready.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not an easy task making wildfire. Procuring it can take weeks, if not months. Not to mention it’s incredibly dangerous too. Even making it proves to be volatile. The spells used for making wildfire are presently not as effectual as they once were, due to the extinction of the dragons and the effect this has on the strength of magic” He muses, eyes glazed and far off. “And there’s only so much you can store safely.”

Arthur’s groan distracts the men from their conversation. His brows furrow like he was in pain.

Rhaegar stands to grab a cool cloth and places it on Arthur’s burning forehead. It offered him relief and he relaxes back into his dreams. “The both of you are lucky that you’re alive.”

Oberyn chuckled, wincing once again due to the motion upsetting his side. Rhaegar noticed a small circle of blood blossoming against the white bandage. The color grew deeper as more blood spread. “It would take a lot more than wildfire to kill a Dornishman.”

A tired smile is slow on Rhaegar’s face. “How silly of me to think otherwise.”

Stretching out his arm, Oberyn hands him his flagon of wine; it felt like it was half empty. “Take this and get some rest. I will watch over Ser Arthur. Besides, I have much to write. I need to inform Doran of what has happened and our needs for ships. Even though wildfire can spread across water, like I said, it will take the Alchemist Guild some time to acquire more. We need to strike in that waiting period.”

“You’re already thinking ahead.”

“Of course. Dorne promised you the Iron Throne. Our word is better than any Lannister’s.” His dark eyes burn intensely. “Do not owe that man anymore than you need to.”

The domineering face of his former father-in-law surfaced in Rhaegar’s mind. Cold Tywin Lannister who didn’t shed a tear at the demise of his daughter. While he needed all the funds he could get, Oberyn was right. He would be no better than Aerys who nearly drained Casterly Rock’s funds when the two were on speaking terms. The crown was still in debt to Tywin Lannister. Rhaegar didn’t want to be in the same position when he became king. He didn’t want to rely on Casterly Rock like Aerys did. That was part of the downfall between Aerys and Tywin.

His fingers held the metal handle of the flagon, it was warm from Oberyn’s own fingers. He should sleep. The haunting sounds of war just kept replaying.

Instead of asking for the squire to lead him to his own chambers, Rhaegar asks the young man to show him where the rest of his wounded men were.

Lyanna’s gloved hand ghosts over the area of her abdomen. Covered heavily in her layers of clothes and her fur coat, she could still sense the life that was growing inside her. Her lips press tightly together recalling seeing Rhaegar after more than a year of no contact. His last letter to her had been right before the war had started. Right before her life had turned upside down. A small part of her had hoped that Rhaegar would save her from her fate. That above all odds that they would live the rest of their lives together. Hopes and dreams were fickle things. His last letter to her had broken her heart. He loved his wife, the late (y/n) Lannister and lamented on hurting her. She had found out about the affections he once held for Lyanna which were no more. Rhaegar officially broke ties with her the moment she opened the letter.

She never resented (y/n), a girl she had never met. By law, Rhaegar was her husband, even before they met Rhaegar had promised his hand to (y/n) at such a young age. He was never meant to be her’s. He had always been (y/n)’s. When the news of the girl’s passing reached Lyanna, she felt no triumph, only regret and sadness for Rhaegar. There was no way she could possibly imagine what he was going through; the grief and pain that plagued him was still evident even now. The glow that had once been around him was gone. Also gone was his long silver hair, chopped short due to when he saved Robert from an attack. Since then Robert had only praise to sing about Rhaegar. It was odd seeing the two get along so well. Not too long ago, Rhaegar had claimed his affection for her and a resentment toward Robert Baratheon. Situations certainly have changed. Especially for her family.

Poor Ned. Alone in Winterfell considering that their younger brother Benjen had volunteered to go to the Wall to join the Black Brothers. A noble venture, but that meant Ned didn’t have any of his original family there to mourn with him. Barely a month had passed since the cruel murder of Lord Rickard Stark and Brandon Stark. Their bodies had yet to be returned; or what was left of their remains.

Lyanna felt another wave of nausea hit her. Placing her back against the stone wall of the corridor she had been passing through, she takes a deep breath in an attempt to push down the sick feeling that was quickly rising up. Robert’s child had caused her to throw up several times already.

No one knew yet of the heir of Storm’s End that had now hijacked her body. There was so much going on already, a baby was the last thing she wanted. Lyanna was physically and emotionally tired. Seeing Rhaegar being chummy with her philandering husband had made everything worse.

The swirling sensation in her stomach subsided enough to where she could hold herself up once more.

She wandered over to a narrow window that viewed the courtyard below. Men were still scattered across the yard, milling about and preparing for upcoming battles. There was never any rest during a war. Even if they were here for respite, they had to prepare and gather more forces.

Ned had found time to write her a few weeks ago. He wanted more than anything to return to battle to support Rhaegar. The northern army could possibly save the campaign. Odds seemed bleak for Rhaegar at the moment unless he did manage to gather a sizable fleet. With Tywin Lannister as a benefactor it wouldn’t be too hard. The only issue was time. No one ever had enough time and putting together a naval power to siege Blackwater Bay would take a while. Ships had to be built and due to the wild storms that often destroyed nearby vessels, they couldn’t be built in the Stormlands. Ned didn’t have time for battle. He had to work on inserting himself as the new Lord of Winterfell. Plans had been made for Ned to wed Catelyn Tully, Brandon’s former betrothed. Before he even dared to go out and fight, he had to have an heir in case anything were to happen.

A familiar red head bobbed into view, stopping every so often to give orders. Jon Connington. The man never seemed to rest. He was considered Rhaegar’s right hand man and Jon took the role very seriously. Dedicating every waking hour to the Silver Prince.

Even feeling alone herself, she was happy that Rhaegar had good men around him who he could trust.

Scuffing of boots alerted Lyanna to someone approaching. She turns and there’s Rhaegar. The scar that ran like a river across his face darkened his already fraught expression.

“I thought you would be resting after your journey.” Lyanna says, hoping to at least get a few words out of him. Though his love for her was gone, she at least wanted to maintain some kind of relationship.

He looked exhausted, on the verge of falling over. “I’ll rest when I make sure my men are taken care of.” The angles of his cheeks were even more pronounced due to a drop in his weight. His black scaled armor nearly made him blend into the shadows of the hall.

His demeanor made her heart ache. So broken down with soot and blood caked to him.

Lyanna was prepared to insist that their maesters were working hard to ensure the health of those who had come in need of it, but her nausea seized her. One hand on the windowsill kept her stable as she leaned over and vomited. Clanking of armor followed as Rhaegar moved to hold back her long hair.

“Perhaps it is you who should be resting, my lady. Are you alright?”

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she shakes her head. “No. I’m not alright. I’m pregnant.”

She felt his hand halt in it’s soothing ministrations on her back. “That’s wonderful news, Lyanna. Congratulations. Have you told Robert yet?”

“I haven’t told anyone. You’re the first and I don’t want you sharing this.” Fixing her gaze on him, she holds down his lilac eyes with sternness.

Obviously confused, Rhaegar releases her cascading hair. “Why haven’t you told anyone? You're pregnant with Robert’s heir.”

Quite unladylike, Lyanna lets out a derisive snort. “Probably not his first. Oh don’t look so surprised. Even you know of Robert’s predilections. I knew marrying him would not prevent Robert from taking on lovers. No matter how much he claims he loves me, he loves women more. I can’t be happy about this. Not with my father and brother dead and Ned struggling in his new role. If anyone else finds out about my pregnancy, they will refuse to let me go to the north to be with Ned.”

Tears were in her eyes and blinding her, bottom lip shivering as Lyanna suppressed a sob. Her life was in ruin.

Compassion had not died in Rhaegar as he gently held one of her hands. “I’m so sorry, Lyanna. About your father and brother. About everything that has transpired. Keeping this child a secret is not the answer though.”

“I know.” Her voice wavered. “I know but I just can’t bring myself to tell anyone. There was so much I wanted to do. I wanted to support Ned and fight in your army. Now there will be even more reason to keep me cooped up here.”

Even in her ears, her woes sounded pathetic but Lyanna couldn’t help the way she felt. Rhaegar had lost both his wife and child and was in the middle of fighting his father for the Iron Throne. He had a lot more on his plate than she.

Still, Rhaegar soothed her by running his finger along her knuckles. For a moment there is a lull of silence before Rhaegar sighs. “If you inform Robert of your pregnancy, I promise to try and convince him to let you go to the north. It’ll be safer for you there anyway. The Stormlands are too close to King’s Landing, I’m sure he’ll let you go.”

She clung to Rhaegar’s promise and with a small nod, she dropped his hand. “Alright. Alright.”

Making sure she was truly okay to continue her walk, Rhaegar begins on his path once more before Lyanna calls out to him.

“I’m really sorry. . . About (y/n). . . a-and her baby. . .”

Such a sad smile Rhaegar had. “We were going to name him Jaehaerys. (y/n) loved that name.”

It was hard for Varys to rid his mind of the image of Brandon’s wide, fearful eyes. Neck veins bulged as he was being strangled while watching his father’s own demise. The reddening of his face as he lost air, clawing of his fingers around the rope that gripped his neck so tightly. Gods, he couldn’t get the smell of burning flesh out of his system either. The day of Brandon and Rickard’s murder stuck with Varys as a reminder of the danger he was in when playing the game of thrones. One wrong move and that could easily be him. With Aerys’ patience and sanity running thin, he walked on a razor’s edge. He was unpredictable and an unpredictable king was a terrifying thing. Through his birds, Varys knew that the people of King’s Landing were talking in hushed tones; worried about the extreme use of wildfire against Rhaegar’s army. Such a reckless and fickle element, the wildfire could have easily spread to the capital and killed everyone. It was thanks to Rhaegar’s actions that the spread of the green flames had stopped in it’s tracks. That wouldn’t do for Aerys. If he found out about the positive talk on his turncloak son, no doubt the king would gather those individuals and kill them. Well, his people were already dying by the dozens. Many were starving, he had been witness to it whenever he dared to go outside. The gates to the Red Keep were now lined with the poor and starving, screaming at anyone who got near them. The use of wildfire had damaged the roads and lands that led to King’s Landing. Supplies could not be delivered to them nor any goods that the capital depended on. Food from the bountiful Reach dwindled in a blink of an eye. Even those of a higher pedigree were experiencing difficulties and often went to the king’s small council to plead for more food.

Aerys turned a deaf ear to the cries of his people, instead becoming obsessed with striking down his first born son; the son which Rhaella had struggled to conceive after so many miscarriages and stillborns.

The wildfire assault had not been approved by the small council. Actually, Aerys worked behind their backs to make sure that his plans would be successful. An outraged Grand Maester Pycelle had accosted Aerys on such a terrible act and it nearly cost him his head. He considered wildfire a damning element concocted by those who were close to the Stranger as arts such as those could only be obtained in a dark manner.

There was nothing that could be said to the king that would make him think otherwise. He believed the wildfire would help cleanse the land. An even more morbid plot that Aerys had told them about was the plan to set all of King’s Landing aflame if Rhaegar ever got to the gates. All of the members of the small council were growing more concerned by the second. There was no reasoning with King Aerys. Even looking into his eyes one would learn that his mind wasn’t all there. Many days, Aerys refused to come down from the Iron Throne, even if he was receiving many cuts from the old blades it was composed of. He would not surrender the throne to anyone. Not even for a second.

He was employing Varys’ skill more and more these days. Especially in regards to the missing knight Ser Barristan Selmy who had up and vanished. Whispers around the castle laid claim that it was Selmy who may have kidnapped the king’s youngest children.

Of course Varys knew better. In fact it was he who had orchestrated the kidnapping of the Targaryen siblings. Varys knew that many people thought him cold and conniving, but it was far from the truth. For a long time, he had worried about the young Viserys and infant Daenerys. Even before Rhaella’s passing, Varys worried about what Aerys had planned for his family on Dragonstone. Not wanting to underestimate the king’s madness, Varys thought it best to send the children away. He took it upon himself to go to Dragonstone and enlist the help of Ser Willem Darry who was all too ready to take the task. The older knight had voiced his own worries as well and had made a promise to the dying Rhaella that he would protect her children even if it meant going against Aerys. That task had been an easy one.

However, he hadn’t heard anything of Ser Selmy. The last news he received from his many little birds around the world was that Selmy had indeed left Volantis and was on a ship back to Westeros. That had been two weeks ago and no one had any clue where he was now. No mice or birds had seen Selmy in a while.

And how would he get into contact with Rhaegar now that their go-between had been murdered. Brandon Stark had been overly brave in making himself the messenger between the Spider and the Silver Prince. He didn’t know the status of Rhaegar’s army and if it still held numbers. Scouts that had been placed in the Kingswoods had reported that his men were seen fleeing in the direction of the Stormlands. Other than that, the information was mum.

He had been speaking with one of his little birds when a knight approached him, causing the young child to flee immediately.

“The king wants to see you.”

Varys never liked hearing that. It meant having to sit through the king’s ramblings and attempt to make sense of it. Continuing to pretend to serve him was wearing down on him. He must see his plans through, to the very end. Much like another foreigner he had encountered.

Young Thalina had known what her duty was to the realm and even knowing her fate was death, she did what she had to do with a gentle smile on her face. Varys never knew how much he would look up to the girl.

She had more courage than Varys could ever have. For he still feared his own death. Every time he came face to face with Aerys, he worried that that would be the last breath he took.

Even making his way to the Great Hall, beads of sweat began to collect on the back of his neck, staining the satin collar around his neck. Aerys had already killed a handful of his most loyal vassals. His fears weren’t irrational. The other members of the small council also worried when their time would come.

Despite the Great Hall having large windows that allowed the sun’s rays to illuminate the hall, the vicinity around the Iron Throne was suspended in a dark gloom that threatened to reach out to the rest of the hall. Atop of the mountain of melded swords was Aerys. His body leaned forward in an attempt to keep the sharp tips of the swords from biting into his skin. From where he stood, Varys could see the slight twitching of the king’s bony hands. His golden crown was loose on his head, the dragons sculpted into it were like a sad reminder of the glory that the Targaryens once possessed.

What alarmed Varys was the absence of the Kingsguard. All who stood sentry was Gerold Hightower.

Currently one of the pyromancers held an audience with the king. The situation was already fraught when Varys arrived. “Y-Your Grace. . . Please, we can make the amount of wildfire you ask for but it will take us time.”

“We don’t have time!” Aerys spat nearly rising from his seat. “I want it done by the week’s end!”

Trembling slightly, the pyromancer shook his head knowing that if he did not please the king’s temper that his head could be on the chopping block. “Y-Yes Your Grace. . .”

“Get him out of here. He’s got work to do along with the other mages in the Alchemist Guild.” With stern, milky eyes, Aerys instructs Ser Gerold to escort the poor pyromancer out of the Great Hall while Varys takes his place in front of the Iron Throne. Not wasting time on pleasantries, Aerys asks “What news do you have on Barristan Selmy?”

Varys wished he had that knowledge just for himself. Alas, there was nothing to report on; not something Aerys wanted to hear. His tempers were already short. Varys had to make sure to spend as little time as he could there. “I regret to inform Your Grace that there has been no sign of Barristan Selmy. We can only hope that he shows up soon or we hear news of his death.”

The Mad King snarls. “It seems even my Spider is incompetent. A knight of the Kingsguard does not just up and vanish overnight! Especially not one like Selmy. And my children?”

Luckily Varys had come up with a lie that would be good enough to satisfy Aerys at least for the time being. “One of my informants in Pentos has sighted two young children with silver hair. They match the description of Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys.”

“Anything on who took them? Don’t think I haven’t heard what people are saying. Some speculate that Selmy took them. Is there any merit to the rumor?”

Varys doubted if Selmy did return to King’s Landing that he would receive a warm welcome. True that he lied to Aerys about the reason for him being gone, nothing mattered now. Not with the king’s sanity spiraling at a dangerous level.

“It could not be determined, Your Grace. But we have a location and I have my mice keeping tabs until they have a culprit.”

“I want to send someone out to Pentos to have a look themselves.” seethes Aerys, drilling his glare at the eunuch. “And I want you to find a competent assassin to get rid of Rhaegar.”

Chancing eye contact with the Mad King, Varys pressed his lips together. “I will talk it over with the small council-”

“No. I don’t want you telling any of those fools. I want a finish to this damn war. That brat. . . I don’t want to waste anymore effort on him. I want this ended. Do you hear me, Varys?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He leans forward a few more inches. "Don't fail me Varys. Otherwise you will meet the same fate as Rickard Stark and his boy."

“Yes, Your Grace.” He felt like a damn parrot but what else could he do if he wanted to keep his head for a little bit longer?

Taglist:

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@domoron

@yentroucnagol

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bregarc

[hauntedbys]

melissa  barrera,    33,    cis  woman,    she/her      𐫱          ›      hey,  isn’t  that  josefina  solano  ?  i’ve  heard  that  they’ve  lived  in  bearhold  for  their  whole  life.  rumor  has  it  that  they  can  be  rather  apprehensive  and  aloof,  but  hey,  that’s  just  in  their  nature  as  a  watcher.  they  totally  make  up  for  it  by  being  protective  and  intuitive.  if  you’re  looking  for  them,  you  can  probably  find  them  at  their  work  as  an  archivist  at  great  bear  library.

ONE.

full  name:      josefina  maria  solano.      nicknames:      jo  (  preferred  ),  jose,  josie  (  family  nickname  ).      age:      thirty  three.      gender  +  pronouns:      cis  woman  +  she/her.      orientation:      bisexual.      date  of  birth:      july 15th.      originally  from:     bearhold,  washington.      spoken  languages:      spanish  (  first  language  ),  english,  portuguese,  and  a  handful  of  latin.      species:      watcher.      occupation:      archivist  at  great  bear  library.

TWO.

dominant  hand:      right.      moral  alignment:      chaotic  good.      horoscope:      cancer  sun,  virgo  moon,  scorpio  rising.      virtues:      protective,  intuitive,  loyal,  ambitious  &  empathetic.      vices:      apprehensive,  aloof,  obstinate,  selfish  &  unforgiving.      favorite  hobbies:      reading,  writing,  baking,  hiking  &  keeping  herself  busy.      education:     graduated  undergrad  with  a  degree  in  history  (  while  quietly  minoring  in  occult  studies  )  from  makah  community  college.

THREE.

parents:      javier  solano,  father  (  deceased  )  &  daniela  solano,  mother  (  deceased  ).      siblings:      tbd  solano,  sister **wanted plot.      birth  order:      oldest.      relationship  status:      divorced.      children:      none.      pets:      has  an  ever  growing  army  of  guinea  pigs  which  currently  include  ginger,  petunia,  maggie  &  rosie.      other  relations:     tbd  **would  love  an  uncle/aunt.      past  relations:      samantha  barton,  ex  wife. 

FOUR.

josefina comes from a long family line of watchers, the solano family, who have resided in bearhold for the past century. they were more well known when josefina was a kid, as most of her family has passed and she is one of the last remaining members in town. she has known about the family history since as long as she can remember and the same can be said for when she wanted to become a watcher. jo grew up close to her family and wanted to follow in their footsteps, an interest in the supernatural leading the way.

after graduating from community school, jo enrolled in makah community college where she majored in history and minored in occult studies. she had originally anticipated to leave bearhold for college but the same year jo graduated high school, her mother was diagnosed with cancer. though grateful to have spent the last months by her side, an invisible string wouldn't let jo leave bearhold - and aside from the occasional vacation as a kid, she hasn't left town much either.

became engaged to her girlfriend junior year of college after a few years of dating. they had been through so much together that jo believed nothing could ever separate them. once the two of them graduated, they had a small wedding that fall. everything was so perfect that it didn't seem real - and up until a certain point, it was. jo losing her mother was hard but losing her father out of the blue only a couple months after getting married absolutely devastated her.

the biggest challenge became inheriting her father's duty as a watcher before she even had a chance to know what to do. her name was emily and though jo had known her for years, the thought of stepping into her father's shoes was terrifying. to make matters worse, javier, jo's father, had died of suspicious circumstances and emily only trusted jo. with no other option, jo accepted her duty and dove in head first, intent on making her father proud. to no one's surprise, josefina excelled and flourished as a watcher, being a helpful source of information and advice. she works well under pressure and even participated hands on in a lot of emily's training with combat skills.

samantha could only ignore the mornings where she would wake up to an empty bed for so long. jo tried to tell her as much as she could but when it came to details, the supernatural was always kept behind closed lips. patience grew thin quickly and within a few months time, divorce papers were being filed. every bit of sadness was channeled into taking care of emily but it was realized too late that jo could not take care of anyone without first taking care of herself. she worked herself to the bone afterwards, barely sleeping or eating. one night... she missed one patrol night and emily was gone, just like that. people kept vanishing around her and jo was never the same, beginning to isolate herself from deeper connections while hiding amongst books in the library.

has essentially just been going through the motions for the past decade. part of her wants to get another slayer, knowing she could be valuable, but jo doesn't want to be the cause of someone else's demise. instead she just offers help to slayers/anyone with good intentions without getting too involved. besides, she sees herself as #fragile now and doesn't know if she could handle caring for someone in that way again ! traumatized loner nerd who is haunted by her past and by those she couldn't/can't save </3

wanted plot ideas: josefina's sister, maybe an aunt/uncle, besties, exes/ex friends, people she regularly gives information/helps out, family friends, emily's family, the supernatural person who murdered jo's dad, honestly anything just pls plot w me <3

[dilutedh2so4]

gay bible: part 2! apocrypha edition

JUDITH AND HER MAID FROM THE BOOK OF JUDITH MAKE ME GO FERAL

AND THE MAID DOESNT EVEN GET A NAME

AND IDK WHY SHES ALWAYS DEPICTED AS AN OLD WOMAN WHEN SHE OUTLIVES JUDITH BUT OH WELL

- Artemisia Gentileschi's "Judith and her maidservant" my girls look so confused in this lmao

Context: > Judith's city of Bethulia was besieged by the Assyrian army. > The leaders of her city were planning to surrender to them. > Judith, some rando widow, was like: lol no

"You cannot plumb the depths of the human heart or understand the workings of the human mind; how do you expect to search out God, who made all these things, and find out his mind or comprehend his thought?" -Judith 8:14

So, Judith and her maid set out alone to go and girlboss these Assyrians. Alone... With her maid...

Perfect date night!

This maid goes with Judith on this dangerous mission to assassinate the enemy general, even when literally everyone else has given up.

"Stand at the town gate tonight so that I may go out with my maid, and within the days after which you have promised to surrender the town to our enemies, the Lord will deliver Israel by my hand." -Judith 8:33

Then; > Judith rizzes up the enemy general Holofernes. > In his sleep, she and her maid cut off his head. > The Assyrian army freaks out and runs away!

"Judith went out and gave Holofernes’s head to her maid, who placed it in her bag. Then the two of them went out together, as they were accustomed to do for prayer." -Judith 13:9-10

^ Helping out the wife ^

You're telling me they were accustomed to going out in the dark together? Alone? At night? Hmmm...

Once they are back in Bethulia, everyone celebrates being saved. Judith rizzes up some ladies (Judith 15:12) and never remarries (Judith 16:21-22) despite every single person she interacts with finding her hot (Judith 8:7-8, 10:7, 10:14, 10:19, 10:23).

"Judith went to Bethulia and remained on her estate. For the rest of her life she was honored throughout the whole country. Many desired to marry her, but she gave herself to no man." -Judith 16:21-22

She lives with her maid on the estate for the rest of her life, unmarried, to the age of 105!

At her passing, she gives freedom to her maid, despite passing all her other property (like servants) onto her relatives. This seems to be in gratitude for the help all those years ago, but why not free her back then?

Unless...

Perhaps...

There was something else going on hmmm...

-Judith Slaying Holofernes by Artemisia Gentileschi me and the gf hard at work

-Judith and Her Maid, artist unknown, German origin c.1600

Judith does appear to love her deceased husband though, mourning deeply for him as seen in Judith 8:6, so I vote her as bi or pan ;)

It could be a cover/excuse for her not remarrying but you can decide that for yourself

Judith remained as a widow for three years and four months at home, where she set up a tent for herself on the roof of her house.

She put sackcloth around her waist and dressed in widow’s clothing.

She fasted all the days of her widowhood except the day before the Sabbath and the Sabbath itself, the day before the new moon and the day of the new moon, and the festivals and days of rejoicing of the house of Israel.

She was beautiful in appearance and was very lovely to behold. Her husband Manasseh had left her gold and silver, male and female slaves, livestock, and fields, and she maintained this estate.

No one spoke ill of her, for she feared God with great devotion.

-Judith 8:4-8

Many desired to marry her, but she gave herself to no man all the days of her life after her husband Manasseh died.

She became more and more famous and grew old in her husband’s house, reaching the age of one hundred five.

Before she died, she set her maid free. She died in Bethulia, and they buried her in the cave of her husband Manasseh.

-Judith 16:22-23

^ the language is very male-centred and focused around her husband (who plays no role in the story) as might be expected from a text coming out of a male-centred society ^ it still points out she gave herself to *no man* afterwards soooo yk (she was too in love with her gf)

[ahmedalnabih21]

📢🚨My name is Ahmed Alnabih. I am 33 years old, married, and part of a large family with three brothers and four sisters. We once lived in Gaza, where I grew up and built my life. But today, my family and I are living in a tent, in unimaginable conditions—surrounded by mud, soaked from the rain, and overwhelmed by uncertainty.🥹

The Israeli army ordered us to evacuate our home in Gaza. With heavy hearts, we fled south, taking only what little we could carry. Not long after, we received the devastating news that our house—our home—was completely destroyed. Everything I had worked for, everything that held the memories of my family, was reduced to rubble.☹️

Now, we live in a tent, struggling to stay dry, to stay warm. The rain beats down on us as the ground turns to mud beneath our feet. The cold seeps into our bones at night, and hope feels more distant with each passing day.😭

I never thought I would find myself in this situation, forced to rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But here I am, asking for help, not just for myself but for my family, who have lost everything. I want to rebuild a safe home for my wife, my brothers, and my sisters. I want to give them a future, something to hold onto when everything else has been taken away.🥹

Please, if you can, donate. Every little bit brings us closer to rebuilding what we have lost and giving my family a sense of safety and dignity once more.🙏❤️

Here is love and war!

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸

Campaign link:⬇️🔗

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @just-browsings-world @mothblogging @aleciosun @serica @fluoresensitivearchived @khizuo @schoolhatergirl @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka-blog-blog @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutalia @raelyn-dreams @theropoda @tamarr @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi27 @cluelessboy @neptunerings @aerithkinfaker

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (33/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2845

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Aemond and Arianwyn awake with grand plans of spending another day together. But they are met with the news that the King has died in the night, leaving not only their plans unsure, but the fate of the realm.

Warnings: Adult content, Minors DNI.

Author's Note: Again, sorry this took an extra day. That book series I was telling y'all about? It had the absolute WORST ending I have ever read. I was so mad I couldn't write. And by the time I had calmed down, I had gotten out of the Aemond state of mind and had to reread the whole fic up to this point to get myself back into it.

Oh well, those books are already in the recycle, I'm back to writing, and I promise I will deliver y'all a much, much better ending (eventually)!

Series Masterlist

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The First Death

The King was dead.

Viserys was dead.

His father was dead.

Aemond felt cold hands closing around his throat, yet he could breathe freely for the first time in his life.

The world was spinning around him, yet he had never felt so steady.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest even as he felt a sense of calm wash over him.

He was relieved.

He was distraught.

He was happy.

He was heartbroken.

He was finally free.

He had never been more trapped.

They were supposed to go to Runestone.

Once Arianwyn had her trousseau and his mother had her feast, they were supposed to leave this all behind. Make their own home – together.

Not as a Targaryen Prince and Princess, the second son and his wife. But as the Lady of Runestone and her Lord Consort.

They were supposed to be alone together, as husband and wife.

For one year, they would spend every moment they could in each other’s arms. They would wake each morning together. Fly across the realm together. Spend each night – or really, any and every moment they could – entwined together.

After a year of marital bliss, they were supposed to start their family.

They had agreed: a whole army of children with Arianwyn’s hair and Aemond’s eyes. Each one with a dragon egg to warm their cradle, as Aemond had been denied.

Aemond already had a list of names in the back of his mind.

Their firstborn – their heir – would need a name befitting a Royce. A name of the First Men.

Yorwyck, perhaps. After the first Bronze King. Yorbert or Robar would also be fitting. Or something less traditional. Throughout his studies, Aemond had found several names that caught his eye. Aneurin. Caradoc. Tarian. Edan. Cadogan. Rhisiart, even. If they were feeling adventurous.

But their heir could be a daughter, according to the laws of the Vale. A son was preferred, but a girl could inherit, just as Arianwyn had.

Rhea was an obvious choice. Though Aemond was still unsure how he felt about Rhea having her daughter as an act of revenge, he knew Arianwyn would love to honor her late mother.

Still, there were other options. Though there were fewer historical names for women, at least as far as Aemond knew. But there were so many beautiful names for women in the Old Tongue. Isolde. Guinevere. Rhiannon. Ceridwen. Nimue. Eluned. Nerys. Briallen.

They would have to have so many daughters.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he did not want to give his children a Valyrian name.

A Valyrian name was a burden. A reminder of the legacy that preceded them. A legacy of conquest and glory. Of dragonriding heroes and silver-haired kings. Of cruel fathers and forgotten second sons.

He would not pass that burden on to his children.

“Aemond?” Arianwyn whispered as she stepped in front of him, bringing him back to reality.

The morning came crashing back.

Waking with her in his arms, kissing every inch of her until she had awoken as well. Her sweet, sleepy smile when she finally kissed him back.

Taking his time with her, as he had not had the chance to last night when she climbed on top of him. Worshipping her with his mouth until she screamed with unbridled pleasure. Finally burying himself inside her as he held her close. She had muffled her cries in his neck as she came, driving him to release only a breath later.

Their slowness to emerge from the bedchamber had given Elsie the time she needed to relace all of Arianwyn’s armor. Again, Aemond dressed her himself. But this time, he teased her, punctuating every movement of his fingers with a kiss.

He had lost his composure faster than she had, however. His hands were still tangled in the laces of her cuirass as he fell to his knees and devoured her again, lapping up every drop of her release with his tongue so as not to stain her riding trousers.

They had walked toward the courtyard hand-in-hand when they were intercepted by Orwyle, who nervously redirected them to find the Queen without telling them why.

That had led them to the corridor outside Helaena’s chambers, where they had encountered the Hand with a look of fearsome determination on his gaunt face.

Otto Hightower, perhaps the only man in the Red Keep who could look down upon Aemond, seized his grandson’s arm to bring them to a halt. He looked briefly at Arianwyn before turning back to the Prince.

“Your mother will need you now, Aemond,” he said, his voice that of a commander, not a grandsire. “Do not fail her.”

Aemond did not reply, only held Arianwyn’s hand tighter and nodded before continuing to Helaena’s rooms, faster than he had before. On her little legs, she had to jog to keep up with him.

He had a sinking feeling that he knew what Otto had meant. He didn’t want to believe it to be true.

But then he saw his mother. She sat next on the couch, reaching out to comfort her daughter – she had never gotten used to Helaena’s dislike of being touched. His hurried steps drew her attention, and the moment she looked at him, he knew it to be true.

The everlasting exhaustion in her eyes was sharpened by fear. Fear of what would happen to her, her children, and her grandchildren. That fear now encompassed Arianwyn too.

Her gaze softened at the sight of him, and she whispered an apology. For as soon as he saw her face, he knew that Runestone would have to wait. Arianwyn would have to wait. Their family, their entire life together, would have to wait.

King Viserys was dead. Whether it be to install Aegon on the Iron Throne or defend her from Rhaenyra, Alicent would need Aemond’s sword.

-

Even as Aemond looked down at her, Arianwyn knew he was not truly seeing her. Darkness danced in his eye and the shadows of his face. It was almost as though she could see his anxious thoughts swirling around him.

“Aemond?” she asked again. But he still did not respond. Her only indication that he had heard her was a subtle twitch of the left corner of his lips and the nearly imperceptible reddening of his scar.

Something was very, very wrong.

She turned to Alicent, desperate for an explanation. “What has happened? What is wrong?”

The Queen stood and came to stand by their side, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. Tears shone in her eyes as she spoke. “The King is dead. The Stranger came for him in the night.”

“No,” Arianwyn whispered. Her knees buckled, but Aemond instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her steady and standing. She was not sure whether that had been his purpose, or whether he needed to hold her as much as she needed to be held.

“I saw him last night,” she murmured, laying her head against Aemond’s chest. “I talked to him.”

“I know, darling,” Alicent said, lacing her fingers with Aemond’s with one hand while she petted Arianwyn’s hair with the other. “You brought him comfort in his final hours.”

But she had not. She had said many things, but none of them were comforting.

Still, she did not cry. She had already shed enough tears for that man. So instead, she simply pressed further into her husband’s chest, wrapping her arms around his waist to try and return to the comfort she had felt when she woke in his arms.

The Queen looked up at her son as he lowered his chin to rest on Arianwyn’s head. His eye was still distant, and no matter how hard she squeezed his hand, he would not look at her.

“I spoke to him as well,” she said, giving up and releasing his hand. “He changed his mind, Aemond. He wanted Aegon to be King.”

At last, Aemond flicked his good eye, wide with apprehension, to his mother. “He did?”

It took great strength to push back, again, against the doubt that Viserys would trust his eldest son with the throne. “He did,” Alicent insisted. “He told me so, in no uncertain terms.”

Arianwyn could feel his jaw clenching as he pressed his chin further into her hair and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders. Whether he was pleased with the King’s change of heart, she could not tell.

“Where is Aegon?” he asked.

Alicent grimaced. “I do not know. Ser Criston is searching for him now. We are to wait for him here.”

“I can have my men search, as well, my Queen,” Ser Warren Crayne said as he stepped cautiously into the room.

Arianwyn had almost forgotten he was there, that he had followed them from their apartments. She had made a promise last night to never take her guards for granted again, and she meant to keep it. It had been her plan to ask him to sit with her in her carriage on the way to the Dragonpit, to ask him for help in finding a way to show her appreciation for the whole regiment.

She would not be going to the Dragonpit today. She did not know when she would get the chance to thank her guards.

“That is a kind offer, Ser Warren,” the Queen said, moving toward the old knight. “How many of your men are familiar with the Keep?”

Their conversation faded as Arianwyn looked up at Aemond. “Are you alright?”

The haze in his eye finally faded as he looked back down at her, though his face remained stoic. “I don’t know.”

“Is there anything I can say? Anything I can do?”

He shook his head, pushing his forehead against hers. “I wanted to go to Runestone with you.”

Her chest tightened, and she had to blink back tears. “We will go. We will fly there on dragonback and make it our home. I do not know when, but I promise we will.”

She had made so many promises lately. She was starting to wonder if she would be able to keep them all.

-

They stayed in the solar for more than an hour as they waited for the guards to return with Aegon.

Alicent paced throughout the room, picking at her nailbeds or fingering her necklace. Every so often, she would stand by the door, hoping her presence there would somehow summon Aegon.

Aemond had quickly claimed one of the chairs by the empty hearth, staring silently forward and stretching his fingers as his mind raced. Arianwyn sat, at first, on the arm of the chair, playing with his hair and stroking his cheek to try and ease his mind.

Eventually, her position began to make her rear sore, as though she’d been astride a horse for hours. So, she lowered herself to the rug beside the chair, resting her head on Aemond’s crossed legs while he played with her hair. He always needed something to occupy his fingers when he was anxious. Arianwyn was more than happy to be that something.

Helaena did not stay long. After only a few minutes of waiting, she excused herself to go sit with her children, muttering about a “beast beneath the boards” as she left.

The room had fallen into a tense, uncomfortable silence by the time Ser Criston and Ser Warren finally returned.

“Prince Aegon’s not to be found within the castle walls, Your Grace,” Criston said, ensuring the door was shut firmly behind him. “Your father has sent Ser Erryk into the city to find him.”

But Alicent only sighed and dropped her head, looking decidedly downcast.

“Surely, that is a good thing,” Arianwyn said as she stood from the floor. “Ser Erryk is Aegon’s sword shield. He knows him well, and will be able to find him quickly.”

Aemond frowned, letting his hand fall back to the arm of the chair as they both looked at the knights.

“Yes, but he will bring Aegon to my father,” Alicent countered. “We must avoid that at all costs. But Ser Erryk has the advantage.”

Arianwyn was about to ask why when Aemond tugged on her hand in a silent signal to remain quiet. He did not explain further; he was presently trying to avoid Ser Criston’s gaze and the suggestion he knew the Kingsguard would propose. He did not want to leave Arianwyn, not when everything was so unsure. She must be kept safe.

But so must the new King.

The Queen approached the knights at the door. “I trust again to you, Ser Criston, and to your loyalty. Aegon must be found, and he must be brought to me. The very fate of the Seven Kingdoms depends on it…” Her voice faded as she leaned closer to Cole.

But Arianwyn would not have listened to her, anyways. Aemond pulled on her hand, drawing her attention back to him. He looked up at her, his face again wreathed in shadow as he confronted the conflict inside him.

To protect her, or Aegon?

When he took her as his wife, he had sworn before the gods, both old and new, to protect her.

For more than six years, he had honed himself into a deadly weapon for the sole purpose of keeping her safe. So that when the time was right, he could rid her, and the entire world, of the monster that was Daemon Targaryen.

But his duty to Aegon went back to his birth. From his very first breath, he was a second son. The younger Prince. It was his fate to fight for his elder brother.

That was what was written in the history books.

The younger brother went to war to die in the elder’s place.

The younger brother died to defend the elder’s crown.

The young brother always stood behind, putting aside his own desires, ambitions, and happiness to ensure the elder would be remembered in the history books.

Arianwyn was his soulmate. Aegon was his brother – now his King.

Duty had always been everything for Aemond. It had guided every moment of his life. Every action he took. Now that it was pulling him in two directions, how could he ever choose?

But then Ser Warren Crayne spoke, his deep voice carrying across the room. “I am not as familiar with the city as Ser Criston, but it is my duty to protect Princess Arianwyn and all those she loves. So, I will do all I can to return your son to you, my Queen. The remainder of my men from Runestone will stay here, to protect the three of you.”

Aemond’s heart lightened at the old man’s words.

Yes, it was his duty to protect his wife. But happily, he shared that duty with the twelve finest knights of the Vale. Knights who had protected Arianwyn all her life, even when he was half an ocean away.

It was thanks to them that he did not have to choose.

“You will stay here, Ser Warren,” Aemond commanded, squeezing Arianwyn’s hand once more. “With my mother and Arianwyn. I will go with Ser Criston.”

Arianwyn’s brow furrowed with concern. Knowing Aegon, she was all too aware of what part of the city – which street in particular – they would be required to go to search for him. She did not want Aemond to have to return there. Not due to jealousy or mistrust, but because she knew how much his last visit to the pillow houses had wounded him.

But before she could protest, he stood from his chair and embraced her. When he pulled back, he cupped her face in his large hand and kissed her. Gently. Slowly. Saying everything he needed to without making a sound.

Trust me.

I will be fine.

I will return.

It will all be alright.

When he finally pulled away, he looked down at her again with a question in his eye. He would not do this without her approval.

Arianwyn nodded, running her hand from his shoulder to his heart. She listened to it beat once, twice, imagining the Runes she had once traced there shining through his skin.

“Go,” she whispered.

“No,” the Queen called, hurrying across the room to grab his arms. “That would not be my desire, Aemond.”

He held her back, and spoke with quiet confidence. “Cole needs me, mother. I know the city better than Ser Warren. And Ser Erryk isn’t the only one who knows Aegon’s doings.”

Alicent looked to Ser Criston, then to Arianwyn, hoping one of them would support her. But they both remained silent. They knew he could do this – knew he had to do this.

He was the second son. It was his duty.

With one last glance and a hint of a smile to his wife, Aemond left the room with Criston Cole by his side. They walked out of the castle and into the city with a singular mission: to find the new King.

Next Chapter

[toxifoxx]

My dear friend, 🌹

Welcome, I hope you are well. 🙏

I am writing to kindly ask for your support in reblogging my pinned post on my page❤🙏.

My name is Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza I am married, and my wife is pregnant and suffering from severe hunger. I may lose my baby at any moment.My family consists of four people and my father died My mother suffers from chronic diseases, and because the medicine ran out, her health condition has deteriorated greatly

The situation is very dangerous in Gaza

After the occupation fired shells and fire at our house, and we then saw death with our own eyes, we were displaced from the house and then to 5 places, the last of which was in the tents in which we currently live in tragic and complicated conditions.🥲

Our dreams have been lost, our house has been destroyed, and I watch my mother lose her life due to the lack of medicine, without me being able to do anything for her here. Life is difficult in the tents, and the drinking water is polluted.

In short, there are no minimum necessities for human life here. The situation is catastrophic and devastates humanity. Famine is intensifying, poverty is intensifying, goods are running out, and the danger of bombing is all around us.😟

I appeal to you and seek your help to share our story and our suffering through your pages, and to provide us with support and concern.🙏

Thank you very much.

Ahmed Al-Nabih from Gaza

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #186 )🇵🇸🇵🇸

Link campaign: https://gofund.me/835f3ddc

[noxaeternaetc]

"What do I dream about? In the beginning I wanted that everything would be over. But now, to be honest, the idea of returning to civilian life frightens me. I already don't understand people anymore. Of course the war must be over some day. But how to continue living? That's a big question. If possible that's even scarier than war.

You lose yourself in this war. You don't know who you are anymore, what family you have, how your kids grow up. You can't get along well with your wife, you don't know about her problems because she doesn't want to tell you about them. And I don't want to tell her about mine. My daughter is 5 years old. When I joined the army she was 2,5. So I haven't seen her in 2,5 years. I don't know how she has grown up, I know nothing about her. That's bad.

You lose friends, because however much you want it, you cannot have friends here. You cannot get attached to someone because it makes it difficult to lose that person. All these concepts with which I lived for 33 years I washed away.

Tomorrow someone will die and I will sleep in peace. I will know it was a man, that I knew him, I commanded him, I taught him, gave him some orders and he died. It's not normal that this is happening and you don't react in any way.

There's a psychologist who visits us to talk. The problem is most psychologists are civilians. Civilians cannot fully understand the problems of soldiers because they haven't been in our environment. They ask questions like 'how do you keep yourself warm at the front.' We don't. No one keeps themselves warm because it would betray your position. Fire and smoke rise up in the air."

Jimmy (36), commander of an infantry division in the Ukrainian army, NRC newspaper, August 2, 2024.

[daniclaytcn]

neethu! as a the rookie fan who is on the edge about watching 911 (mainly bc i am a scorned fan of old ryan murphy shows and have trust issues), i pledge for you to sell me on 911/buddie because i truly need a new summer binge watch that won’t suck my energy dry 🥲

omg becca i can promise you that i'll make it my personal mission to get you into 911 asfdkdld 😌 so, here's why you should absolutely binge 911, coming from a completely unbiased, objective perspective, of course 😌😌

an amazing ensemble cast with really, really talented actors

a group of characters who slowly come together to find their family in each other and they love each other so so much. also the very first episode starts off with the hilariously ironic line—"this is not a family." to really hammer in the famous last words of it all :) now let's get into the characters.

howard "chimney" han — amazing paramedic, manages to be the funniest character on the show while having deep-rooted abandonment issues and trauma, is probably immortal because he has survived things that should have killed any other person

bobby nash — Dad™. the daddest of all dads. best redemption arc ever; has a beautiful journey of realizing that he wants to live. he was born to be a husband and a father :) amateur detective. looks like the sensible one, but he can be just as dumb as the rest. he loves his wife <33

hen wilson — probably the smartest character on the show, and knows everything about everything. she's married to a rocket scientist :)) she is an incredible firefigher paramedic, best friends with chimney (they're platonic soulmates fr) and she looks like she holds the braincell but she will join in on the shenanigans with the rest of the characters in a heartbeat (see: season 6 where she went dumpster diving with chimney to look for a lost ring).

evan buckley — the little brother of the group. he's an ass in the beginning but he gets better i promise. himbo with a heart of gold, he loves kids. he uses recklessness as a means of coping with his deep-rooted childhood trauma. nearly dies every single season. he looks at bobby as a surrogate father. he loves his sister so much. he's in love with his best friend but shhh he's still figuring that out. he loves his best friend's child like his own :)

maddie buckley — give her a break™ she's been through SO much, but came out kind and compassionate and stronger than ever. she's a 911 dispatcher and she's amazing at it. she loves her little brother and basically raised him when they were kids. she's an amazing mom, even if it takes her a while to accept that, and she loves chimney han with all her heart.

athena grant — angela basset does an amazing job with her character; she has some of the best emotional and action moments on the show. she's a cop, unfortunately :( she's best friends with hen, she's a great mom to her two kids and has a really compelling friendship with her ex-husband. she is definitely the one who holds the braincell while everyone else gets up to their dumb shenanigans.

eddie diaz — the love of my life he's an ex-army medic, now a firefighter and above all, a father. he loves his son, christopher, so much. he has also nearly died on multiple occasions, and in season 5, has one of the most beautiful arcs i've ever seen working through his trauma. he had an extremely complex relationship with his wife, shannon. he's come so far in terms of character development. and he's deeply in love with his best friend but by god he will not admit it :)

and as for the other reasons why you should binge the show? the emergencies are absolutely insane and entertainingly unrealistic (there was a tsunami in los angeles). the show knows how to intermix comedy and tragedy in a way that will give you whiplash and have you sobbing. it deals with some very adult, realistic conflicts. it loves to emphasize on the innate goodness of human nature. none of the characters are perfect and have all fucked up badly at some point, but they keep trying. it's a show about second chances :)

OH and since you asked about buddie, well. if you like: a) co-workers who started off disliking each other falling into a deep friendship b) two characters who are partners in every sense of the word, who practically share the same mind c) a ship that has multiple break-up scenes without even getting together d) two characters who are practically co-parenting a child but can't see it e) two characters who go absolutely berserk when the other is in danger f) two characters who act more married than most married couples — then buddie is the ship for you! and honestly, if you like chenford, then you will definitely like buddie sjdkdkd there's a reason i've done at least 4-5 gifsets paralleling them

anyway, this is my official pitch! if you ever actually decide to watch the show, my humble request is that you let me know what you think afterwards 😌

come talk to me!

[towerartt]

For character thing - First Timothy

1. How I feel about this character

I love him dearly. Hateeee seeing him happy it ruins my day. I need him miserable and bitter forever.

2. All the people I ship romantically with this character

Jack and that's about it <33

3. My non-romantic OTP for this character

Tim x Nisha‼️ They are neither romantic nor platonic but a third, secret thing (tied together by the memory of their problematic dead wife)

4. My unpopular opinion about this character

He has the moral backbone of a jelly donut. He never sticks to his guns. He will tell you whatever he thinks you want to hear. Jack is talking about his plans of bombing Pandora? Masterful gambit, sir. Vault hunters are questioning him? Time to yap about how much he hates Jack, omgg that guy was literally the worst! Does he have any opinions on anything? Sure he does. For example, he is not cool with killing people. Unless it is him doing the killing, in which case it is 100% justified self-defense. It's actually crazy how he never did anything wrong in his entire life.

5. One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

Maybe not in canon since this rewrites his character heavily, but I think this could be really interesting to explore in a fic! 

I wish he was rewarded for doing a good job on Elpis the same way Nisha and Wilhelm were. He could have been the official face of the doppelganger program... 

After Jack takes over Hyperion, he has a total of three trusted people: Nisha, Wilhelm, and Timothy. He awards the first two with important positions to gain better control over the company and Pandora. Why wouldn’t he make good use of Lawrence as well? “Suspicious princes often promote the last of mankind, from a vain persuasion, that those who have no dependence, except on their favor, will have no attachment, except to the person of their benefactor.” (Edward Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire) Jack is a suspicious prince, and Timothy is fully dependent on his favor. He is the man Jack should want to promote! Lawrence could have been a puppet general of the Doppelganger army <33

This would also complicate his character. He hates being Jack's doppelganger. He is advertising the program to lost, gullible men. He hates his boss. He lives in great comforts on his payroll. He hates himself. Maybe, standing next to Jack, he sometimes fantasises of saying his real name and letting the bomb in his face take out them both. He does not hate himself enough to go through with it. In canon, he isn’t a spineless lackey; he is just some unfortunate guy. But he could be a spineless lackey! Let him be a spineless lackey!

And also he and Jack should have kissed ☝ I think

[joelsfavouritegirl]

Fuuuuck i love pre-outbreak joel so much 😭 ik this man is hot at any age but there's just something about pre-outbreak joel that gets me. Ik he was probably stressed all the time from work and taking care of Sarah but I feel like before the outbreak he was probably a really sweet guy. Ugh I wish more people wrote about him. I love reading stuff where reader gets with joel when sarah is still young and then they have ellie 🥺 or where reader is sarah and ellie's birth mom

ohmygod ik i feel you 💯 personally i imagine joel as the upbeat and funny kid/teen, then when sarah came along and he got married it was strange and new and really early to have a family but they still made it work y’know. the stress was there but he had his family and wife to lean on when it got tough. however when his wife left i think that that’s when he closed himself off. he probably still had his family (although tommy went to the army for a while right?) but other than that he had a little girl to take care of and a full time job to work at too. i’m guessing that, after his wife, he never had any serious relationship, he primarily didn’t want to potentially hurt sarah + didn’t want to go through that kind of heartbreak again. so yeah i definitely think that pre-outbreak!joel has it rough😭

and i get you on a spiritual level, i’m such a whore for the au’s where reader is sarah and ellie’s mum🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 though i haven’t been able to find any fics about it so i js crate my own au on janitor.ai😭 it’s the only place joel can rly live the life he deserves; yeah work is fuckin annoying but he has his three girls to come home to and he wouldn’t ask for anything more<33 tysm for the submission!!

fic idea?????