#mostly dialouge

[wausbasementslave]

So heres a really weird Shockwave x Reader scenario I had. It was inspired by a dream I had.

Yandere Shockwave making an uncanny sexdoll of you. Logically it's unlikely you'll return his "feelings" and most likely run away, which will be a real hassle for him and the plans of the Decepticons. Sadly for him (and buying time for you) a mere doll will be good enough. at least he knows that it can take his girth, even if dolls don't make good conversation.

But his plans change when, for one illogical reason or another, you decided to sneak onboard and into his lab. In your human error you bump into some equipment, and to your horror you discover it. This...thing had every mark and blemish you had, all the intricate details that made up your body were in full display. It would be like looking in a mirror if it weren't for the dead eyes. The disgust alone made you tear the intricate double to pieces. Carefully placed wires and circuitry get haphazardly cast aside. The synthetic skin gets reduced to mere ribbons as you deny the monster who made this any more satisfaction.

There can't be two of you, and soon enough this anomaly was extinguished, there is only the original now.

But sometimes the prototype has better features, at least to Shockwave. You stare in utter wide-eyed horror; he stares down with a single emotionless eye. "And I thought you were smart.." But his voice gave a different intent. Before you could take a single step, he quickly grabs you, pressing his fingers onto your body. "Let go of me!" You sob, his hand presses in. A warning perhaps, it's useless trying to get out his grip. "Now why would I let go of such a such a fine specimen?" He purrs, heat radiates from his chassis as one of his finger's carefully caress your body, taking in every soft detail. Perhaps he can have the best of both worlds.

[undergrounddeer]

SHES FINIAY DONE!!!!!

[purpleguro]

i hate that the removal of the three goombas hitting on Goombella when you first enter underground Rougeport has affected me this much. unplayable game, really

[luvuomi]

🤍 ꒱ “and the trees were happy…”

─── yuzuha + sethomi but make it omori angst

(🖋️ ) additional note: omori manga had me hyper fixating so bad i decided to cook something small real quick LMAO. of course it’s nothing as soul crushing as the inspiration source itself but it’s still a tad bit angsty ( like a smidge really ). there are also some special mentions of certain individuals as well~ they’ll know when they see hehe

it's been several years since he last set foot on these grounds -- years since he felt a cool wind brush past his cheeks amidst this blazing summer heat while the lush grass below softens his every step. shadows are casted upon the ground from the countless trees standing about, looming over to shroud him in all their grandness that strangely felt like a homecoming. they seemed a lot happier back then… kazuha thinks.

in the distance, a weeping willow comes into view.

at the foot of the tree, he catches a glimpse of something from times bygone. he first sees himself, sat upon a picnic blanket with his friends kunikuzushi and lyney, accompanied by their respective lovers. they all appear to be gathered for a picnic. several delicious foods and pastries scattered about the blanket whilst they all happily conversed about one thing or another.

and then, he sees her. sitting beside him with a hand placed over his as she laughs at something kunikuzushi's lover had remarked about him. her laughter devoid of any sound, and leaving him with only the sight of her smiling face to witness. how he'd long to hear such a melodious laughter once again.

but, there is another as well--one who's figure appears to him as nothing but a blur on the opposite side of her. though, such a sight almost feels intentional. like he'd made sure to forget the appearance of that person a long time ago.

just as quickly as the memory came however, it faded away the closer he drew near.

the carefree individuals disappear into thin air and the red gingham blanket becomes replaced with the sight of a gravestone that has a potted flower placed before it: a lily of the valley. and sitting before that, the mysterious figure from his fragmented memories. except this time, he becomes more visible in kazuha's line of sight.

at the sound of approaching footsteps, the person turns his head around, glancing over his shoulders. upon meeting kazuha's gaze, he doesn't say anything for a moment. merely staring at him with verdant eyes that seemed to have lost their light. like he'd suddenly lost any remaining hope he had left for this world. "for a moment i thought i was seeing a ghost…but it really is you."

[kuramirocket]

I just got to the part where you have to decide whether Princess Peach or Luigi will be kidnapped. And ahhhh!!

Part of me was like I don't want to seperate the bros because they are so precious together and also I might die without Luigi to back me up in battles, but hearing that Luigi would be able to gather more info than Peach sounded really interesting.

If I chose Peach then the info would be spotty and the battles easier. But I was also thinking and wondering if we might get a cute reunion scene between Mario and Luigi. I mean, I'm not really holding my breath because Mario and Luigi don't have dialouge, so ofc, we didn't really get a reaction from Mario to letting Luigi go on the stealth mission.

I NEED FICS STAT!!

Anyways, in the end I chose Luigi and just awwww. Once I got to to the island and seeing Luigi all scared and nervous. Just precious boy is so precious 🥺

I left off where I entered the building where he is supposedly being held. Ahhh Luigi!!

[br1ghtestlight]

btw im calling big bob Robert in my fanfiction where he meets lily and everyone is gonna have to be okay with that choice because him being called "big bob" before bob was born wouldn't make any sense and calling him bob would be MORE confusing so. he gets to be robert <3

[quenthel]

i was playing some of the new wotr dlc btw and i was having a lot of fun bc i did miss these characters... also heinrix's VA was used for like a jovial winemaker gnome and it made me laugh very hard but then i ran into a glitch and i couldnt kill an enemy so i lost like an hour of progress....bc i forgot to save AND i forgot to update toybox...

[inhumanfuckingdogman]

[sunnibits]

live footage of me trying to get through the world’s most basic ass combat mission in da origins bc I’m a little stupid bitch baby who doesn’t understand tactics and didn’t think to stock up on health potions beforehand

[astheskylinefalls]

i screamed, i cried, and i feel even more in love with this family and the whole universe mack has created. 💗💗

parenthood part twenty three: forever & always, and then some

a/n: oh boy! 12k words to (hopefully) feed your parenthood craving. i am already dying to know what you all think of this, so please don't hesitate to hop into the comments or my ask box to talk! hope you enjoy! reblogs are appreciated :)

warnings: angst warning. swearing, verbal arguments, anxiety, panic attack, crying, kissing

ambivalence masterlist , parenthood masterlist

     The Island Club hasn’t changed one bit since you were employed here and running drinks around to Rafe and his friends before you knew he even had a crush on you. As you watch the waitresses make their rounds to the same customers, serving the same food to the same tables, you chuckle to yourself at the thought of ever having to deal with that again. 

Scott sits across from you, fidgeting in his seat slightly as he holds himself back from pulling a cigarette from his pocket. You skim over him, taking in his appearance. 

His hair is freshly cut and the rosiness is back in his cheeks after having disappeared for so long. He’s eating three meals a day again, and to you, it seems his only unhealthy habit is smoking. In time, you’re sure he will move past that. 

“How’re the kids?” he asks, looking up at you. 

“They’re good,” you reply, “They’re busy bees lately. Connor is starting on a soccer team, so Rafe’s been helping him practice.”

“That’s awesome,” Scott grins, and the sight makes you smile, “Kid always has had one hell of a kick. What about Josie girl?”

You chuckle, “She’s all about dance, recently. She wants me to sign her up for a class, and I’ve been trying to get this teacher to call me back about getting her in.”

“Wow. Good for her. She’s so driven, Y/N. They both are.”

“Yeah, they’re something,” you laugh. 

He gives you a smile, but it fades fast before he asks, “And, Rafe?” 

“He’s doing really well. He’s less stressed at work, and he’s spending a lot of time with the kids.”

Scott nods, “Is he still… y’know? Pissed at me?”

You sigh and look down at your lap, unwilling to respond right away. Rafe’s feelings toward Scott have been complicated ever since he showed up to the house and scared the shit out of you and the kids, even though you’ve worked through it and have encouraged Rafe to do the same. Your loyalty to your brother runs deeper than Rafe’s does — because, as he puts it, he will always choose the safety and security of his family. Especially his children. 

“He’s not pissed, Scott,” you say carefully. 

“Right, he’s just done with me,” he laughs dryly, “Look, it’s fine, Y/N. I get it.”

You nod, and when your waiter drops your plates in front of you, you’re relieved when Scott eats his meal and has several glasses of water. 

He tells you about the new job he just started and how he’s finally, officially, cut ties with Mae after she’s yanked him around for over a year. How he’s attending regular AA meetings and actually participating in them. He’s even made a few friends in the group, and they go out to eat together after their meetings to keep themselves busy. 

By the time he pays for your lunch and walks you out to your car, you can’t help but pull him into a tight embrace. He hugs you back and gives you a wide smile, silently telling you that he really is doing better. 

“So, listen, I was kinda hoping I could see them soon,” he says, clarifying, “The kids.”

You know you should run it by Rafe first, but the look in Scott’s eye and the pride swelling in your heart at his improvement has you answering faster than you should. 

“That would be great,” you nod. 

He smiles, “Perfect. How about Wednesday afternoon? I don’t have to be at work ‘til six. Do they have sports or anything?”

You hold up a finger and check the calendar on your phone, finding nothing for yourself or either of the kids on Wednesday after they get home from school. 

“Wednesday works,” you reply, “I’ll bring them to your apartment.”

“Awesome,” he beams, then pulls you in for another hug, “Thank you so much, Y/N. I can’t wait.”

“The kids will be very excited,” you tell him, squeezing him tight. 

He laughs lightly, sounding like himself and making you relax even more. He’s finally in a better place, and you couldn’t be happier about it. 

Scott opens your car door for you and then closes it once you’re inside. He stands there and watches as you back out, then offers you a wave before you drive away. You smile the whole way home, thankful beyond belief that your brother is doing right by himself and improving his life where he needs it. 

     When you get home, Rafe is in the kitchen. You smile at the sight of him at the stove, stirring peppers around a skillet and listening to music. You can hear the kids playing in the playroom, and when Rafe notices you come in, he steps away from the food and to you. 

“Hey, baby, how was lunch?” he asks, helping you remove your jacket. 

“It was good,” you say with a smile, “Club hasn’t changed a bit.”

“Nah, I figured as much.”

He hangs up your jacket and your purse for you, then steps back over and guides his arm around your waist. You smile and set your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth. 

“How are the kids?” you ask him. 

“Josie hid Connor’s firetruck underneath the couch, and Bo got it,” he fills you in, watching your eyes pop in horror, “He was very distraught.”

“Oh, no, poor baby,” you pout, “I’ll see if I can find another one for him tomorrow.”

Rafe grins, “You’re so good to them, they don’t even know it.”

You laugh and grab ahold of his chin lightly, pulling him down to give him a kiss. He accepts it, then offers you a small apology as he momentarily breaks away to pull the skillet off the heat and to the back burner. 

When he moves back to you, assuming the same position, you swallow your nervousness of breaching the topic, and instead, slip your hands under his shirt. 

“So, listen,” you start, “Scott got a job. He’s working nights right now, and he goes after his AA meetings. He seems really, really good.”

He nods patiently, but you can tell by his eyes that he’s not receptive whatsoever to where you’re going to take this conversation. 

“That’s good,” he replies, his voice even. 

“Yeah, it is,” you say hopefully, rising up on your tiptoes, “So, anyway, he was asking if he could see the kids on Wednesday before he has to work.”

Rafe raises a brow, “And what did you tell him?”

You swallow again and press your palms into his skin, hoping your touch will lighten him up.

“Well, I… I think it’s a good idea. It would be good for him, and the kids miss him.”

Rafe’s chest deflates against your hands, and only because you know him so well can you predict what he’s going to say next. 

“Look, sweetheart, I’m thrilled that Scott is doing better. I am. I just don’t think this is the best time for that. Josie’s still adjusting to school, and Connor’s getting settled in a new classroom and he’s on a sports team. I feel like they have enough change going on right now, you know?”

You nod slowly, but look to the floor. He covers your hands with his own and takes them, bringing both of your knuckles up to his lips to kiss. You meet his eyes then, and you both take a second to analyze the other person’s expression. 

“It’s not really a change, though,” you push, keeping your voice light, “It’s just Scott.”

“Y/N, Scott scared the shit out of both of them when he showed up drunk.”

“I know, but he apologized for that,” you reply. 

Rafe drops your hands, “That doesn’t make it okay. To be honest, I’m just not comfortable with it. I need more time to work through things with him. I’m sorry, but can we please table this for now?”

You move to speak up, but bite your tongue at the very last second when one specific thought hits you. If you told Rafe you weren’t comfortable with something, he’d never fight with you on it. He would never pressure you into anything, and the thought of doing that to him makes your stomach turn. 

“Yes, of course,” you answer, “Thank you for being straight with me. We can talk about it when you’re ready.”

Rafe shifts and sets one large palm on your hip bone, where he pulls your body closer to his. 

“I’m not saying no, sweetheart. I’m just saying that I’d like to give it a little more time and make sure Scott really sticks to this change before we bring the kids back into it. That’s all.”

You nod and offer him a smile, “I understand, Rafe. I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Thank you,” he says sweetly, “Now, Connor and I are making a grocery store run. Need anything?”

You step closer, “Coffee. And laundry pods for the washer. But not the blue and white ones—”

“The green and yellow ones, I know,” he teases, “I also put a stick of deodorant on the list for you, considering you went to throw it in the garbage this morning and fuckin’ banked the shot.”

“Excuse me,” you scoff, even though your heart swells at the fact that he not only noticed that, but also remembered it and put it on the list, “We need more bananas, too. You know what Josie’s like when we run out of those for her lunch.”

He laughs, “Yeah. Okay. Bananas, coffee, and laundry pods. I’ve got the rest of the list, but text me if you remember anything okay?”

“Okay,” you smile, “Thanks, handsome.”

He nods and signals for a kiss, grinning when you stand up on your tiptoes to give to him. When you pull back, he yells for Connor, knowing Josie will come running, too. 

“Oh, hey, did that lady ever call you back about Josie’s dance class?” he asks. 

“No,” you groan, “I’m hoping she will in the next few days. Otherwise, I’ll look somewhere else. I just heard that place is so good, I really wanted her to try it out.”

He shrugs, “She’ll be great anywhere. Come on, Connor! Shoes and jacket, hurry!”

He kisses you again quickly before he pulls away to get his own shoes and jacket, finishing in record time so he could steal just a few more kisses before the Sunday chores officially start. 

     Monday comes before you know it, and it brings a wave of destruction. Your meetings all get delayed, your work project is put on suspension, and Rose is driving you crazy about an upcoming event that you’re not even technically assigned to. 

Even more than that, Josie had a day. She refused to let go of you when you dropped her off at preschool, and after you managed to escape, they called you twice and Rafe once to report that she would not stop crying and demanding one of you to come get her. Being the parent at home on Mondays, Rafe picked her up, and she sat with him in his home office for the remainder of the day. 

     Tuesday morning finds you easier. You’re seated at your desk and fire up your work email after dropping both kids off at school — Josie did better today — when you realize that you never told Scott that the plans for tomorrow are off. 

You draft up a text message slowly over the next few hours, trying to sound equal parts assertive and sympathetic. At one o’clock, right before you send the text, your drafting is interrupted by a phone call. The nurse at Connor’s school tells you that he’s been running a fever and complaining of a stuffy nose and sore throat since before lunch. You sigh and agree to be right there to get him, then hit send on the text to Scott without thinking twice about it. 

     You return home with both Connor and Josie behind you. Well, Josie walks behind you while Connor lays in your arms, mumbling softly about how he feels cold despite his fever being high. Josie helps you the best she can to get Connor settled in his room, where you lay him in bed and put a light blanket over him, then get him a cup of water and take his temperature once more. It’s still high, so you give him a kiss and tell him to sleep for a bit before you come back up to check on him. 

“Is Connor okay, Mommy? Can we make him some soup?” Josie asks as the two of you slip out of his bedroom. 

You smile and pick her up, giving her a hug since you didn’t get to when you picked her up from school. 

“We should make him some soup,” you agree, “And, I’m sure you’re ready for your after-school snack, too.”

She grins mischievously, “Maybe.”

You laugh and carry her downstairs to the kitchen, where your phone sits on the counter. The screen fills with unanswered texts, so you set Josie down and grab it, scrolling through the messages. 

The first one you open is Rafe’s chain. Two from him — both exactly what you expected them to be. 

Just got a notification you checked Connor out of school? Is everything okay? 

I’ve got a meeting in half an hour but I can come home after if you need me. 

You look over at Josie, watching as she uses the handle on the bottom oven as a balance beam for ballet. Your heart squeezes, and you make a mental note to reach out to other dance studios in the area tomorrow. 

Quickly, you text Rafe back while stepping over to the pantry to get Josie a snack. 

He’s sick, but okay. Slight fever and head cold. Nothing to worry about. Good luck on your meeting, handsome. I love you. 

He returns the sentiment quickly, while also reminding you to call him if things change. Then, as you pour animal crackers into a bowl, you switch over to Scott’s text chain. 

First, you reread the text you sent to him. 

Hey, so I discussed things with Rafe, and we have decided to hold off on allowing the kids to come over. For now. We think it’s best to give you some more adjustment time, and then we can revisit the idea. I’m sorry, Scott. But, I will try to do better by sending you more pics of them. Just hang in there. Love you. 

You know it’s not perfect, but it has to do. It gets your point across, it doesn’t blame Rafe, and it’s sugar coated just enough for him. 

His reply follows your message, and the length looks drastically different. 

Y/N, I’m adjusted. I just want to see them. Didn’t you tell Rafe I’m doing better? Why is he keeping them from me?

“Mommy!” Josie calls, standing at the kitchen window, “There’s a red bird on the fence!” 

You frown at Scott’s text but lock your phone, then carry Josie’s snack over to her. You look out the window to where she’s pointing and find the cardinal that’s holding her attention so well. 

“Wow, beautiful, huh?” you ask, and she nods before you say, “Okay, come on. Let’s sit at the table and have a snack.”

She obeys and sits in her usual seat at the table, smiling widely when you follow her. You sit with her while she eats and talk to her about her day at school, listening intently even as she tells you the same story for ten entire minutes. 

You perk up when you hear the front door close. You know Rafe wouldn’t be coming into the house with his meeting coming up, and a fresh wave of worry passes through your body. 

“Y/N?”

You relax when you hear Scott’s voice, but only for a second. He knows he’s not allowed to come to the house; you had talked Rafe out of taking Scott’s key from him after his latest episode. 

Josie, like you, recognises the voice, and practically tips her chair right over as she attempts to get up. 

“Uncle Scott!” 

Her scream is loud, and she takes off from the kitchen before you can stop her. You groan internally, scrambling to already try and figure out what you’re going to say to Rafe. Despite it all, you follow Josie out of the kitchen and to the foyer, where she is currently diving into Scott’s open arms. 

“Hey, lovebug,” he grins widely, “Wasn’t sure you’d be home from school yet. I’m so happy to see you!”

She locks herself around his neck and presses kiss after kiss to his cheek, laughing when he laughs. 

“I’ve missed you,” she tells him, “Where have you been?”

He smiles sadly, then returns her kisses with his own, “I’ve been getting myself together. For you and Connor. Are you proud of me?”

“Yes,” she giggles, “Want to have an after school snack with me?”

His smile at her question tells you just how much the question means to him, and when he looks over at you for approval, you just can’t say no. Not to Scott; not to your baby brother who has struggled so much for so long, and just needs a little bit of love to keep him going. You can’t fault him for that, and no part of you is able to even consider kicking him out. Even if it’s not what you and Rafe have discussed and agreed on, you hope that when you explain, he will understand. 

You nod your head, and he turns and kisses her cheek again, like he just can’t help himself. 

“I would love to,” he agrees. 

Scott carries her into the kitchen and you follow. He sets her down and lets her run over to her chair, but he hangs back just long enough to talk to you. 

“I’m sorry, I just came over to talk about your text. I didn’t think she’d be here—”

“It’s fine,” you reply, waving him off, “Connor’s home sick from school, so I picked her up because I can’t leave him to go get her later.”

He nods, “Do you need me to bring you anything for him? Soup? Gatorade?”

“No, I have it covered,” you reply, “Go. She’s waiting so patiently for you.”

He chuckles when he sees her sitting on her knees in the chair, waving him over with an animal cracker half shoved into her mouth. Without hesitation, he rushes over and takes a seat beside her, stealing one of her animal crackers and laughing when she protests. 

You puff out your cheeks and check the time, wondering if you can squeeze in a quick call to Rafe before his meeting. When you decide you can’t, you set your phone back down. You’re here, you’re supervising, and he won’t be mad, you tell yourself. Scott can’t do anything wrong with you here, too. 

Your phone’s sharp ring draws you out of your head. When you look to see who’s calling, you gasp and practically pounce on the phone — the dance school that you’ve been trying to get Josie into. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron?”

“Yes,” you reply. 

“Hi there. My name is Chelsea, I’m calling to see if you are still interested in signing your daughter, Josephine, up for dance class?”

“Yes,” you say enthusiastically, waving to Scott and then holding up your finger as you step into the living room, “Yes, I am. She’s really excited to start.”

“Oh, wonderful. We actually have an opening today in our three o’clock class. It’s only one spot, but if you could bring her by today, I can almost guarantee it would be hers.”

You freeze, “Today?”

“Yes ma’am. Spots here tend to go fast, but I saw your last name, and we wanted to offer you and your daughter the spot, first.”

“Oh,” you say, brain running a mile a minute as you try to figure out how to make this all work out, “Um, yes, thank you, we’d love the spot. I just have a few things to work out, but I will do my best to get her there by three o’clock. Does she need to bring anything?”

“We’ll just do a trial run for today, so we have everything she will need here. If you all are interested in continuing after today, we can give you a list of everything she will need for future classes.”

You barely even hear her words, too busy trying to figure out how you’re supposed to be in two places at once. You want Josie to be in this dance school desperately, but with Connor being so sick, you don’t know how to make it happen. 

“Thank you, I’ll try to work it out and have her there at three,” you say, trying to sound more chipper than you are, “Thank you so much for calling.”

“Yes ma’am. See you soon!”

You disconnect the call and let out a long sigh, having wanted that phone call to come at a better time than just now. You wander back into the kitchen and find Scott and Josie still giggling at the kitchen table, and when they both look over at you, you offer a smile. 

“Who was that?” Scott asks. 

You give Josie a smile, “It was the dance studio I’ve been trying to get Josie into. They have an opening for this afternoon.”

“No way!” she exclaims, “Mommy, we have to go!”

Scott can see it on your face before you can even say a word. He watches as you subconsciously glance back over your shoulder, desperate to check on Connor and not sure what to do. Under normal circumstances, you’d call Rafe — at least to just talk it out. But with him in a meeting and unavailable, you don’t have that option. 

“I can take her,” Scott volunteers, “I know you won’t leave Connor, so let me take her to dance. Just there and back, I promise.”

“Yes!” Josie screams, “Yes, yes, yes, yes, Mommy, yes!”

You shake your head, “Scott—”

“Y/N, let me help you out,” he says, “Come on. I can do it.”

“Mommy,” Josie repeats, “I want Uncle Scott to take me to dance.”

“Scott,” you whisper, “You’re not even supposed to be here.”

“And you’re drowning,” he points out, “I swear. I can totally handle it. I’ll even video the whole thing for you. Please, come on, let me prove myself to you. To Rafe.”

At the mention of your husband, your eyes find your phone. You want to call him more than anything, but you can’t. Then, you think about the agreement amongst parents when they’re raising children together. There are so many split second decisions that a parent has to make, so they trust that their partner will make the right one. Rafe trusts that you will make the right decision for your shared children, and right now, you can only see one. 

“Okay,” you sigh. Josie’s squeals interrupt you and Scott grins, grabbing her from her chair as you add, “Just there and back. No ice cream, no playground. Just to the studio and back, alright?”

“Alright,” Scott repeats back, still smiling, “We’re gonna have so much fun, right, lovebug?”

“Right!” she squeals.

“Josie, go get your shoes, okay?” you say, watching her nod feverishly, like she just can’t wait for Scott to put her down so they can go to dance. 

“Okay!” she says quickly, rushing off. 

Scott laughs as he watches her go, and when he turns back to you, his expression falls. 

“I need you to take extensive notes,” you say sternly, watching his smile grow once more. 

“You got it,” he replies. 

You allow yourself to smile, too, and he pulls you into a hug. He squeezes his thankfulness into you, and only pulls away when Josie returns with her shoes. 

     You hurry upstairs to check on Connor after putting Josie in her car seat and into Scott’s truck. As you feel Connor’s forehead, he stirs and groans, but he still feels very warm. 

“Mama?” he whispers into the air. 

“Hey, baby,” you reply, “How do you feel?”

“Not good,” he whines, “I’m cold. And I need a tissue.”

You grab the box from his nightstand and offer him one, then help him sit up. He blows his nose and hands the tissue back to you, then lays back down. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll bring you some more medicine in a little bit, okay?” 

He nods. His lower lip juts out in the pout he always gives you when he’s sick, so you lean down and kiss his forehead before you stand. You retuck his blanket around him, then use careful steps to escape the dark room. 

Downstairs, you hurry into the kitchen and start heating up from soup for Connor, then pour out the next dose of his medicine. You make him a nice tray of everything so he can eat in bed; complete with crackers, a water bottle, and his iPad so he can watch a show while he eats. Just as you’re putting the finishing touches on it, ready to take it upstairs and check on him again, your phone buzzes on the counter. And buzzes. And buzzes. 

Scott’s contact picture lights up your screen, and you furrow your brows as you check the time. They should just be getting to the dance studio, and you wonder if someone had questions for him that he couldn’t answer. 

“Hello?” you say innocently. 

“Y/N,” he sighs, almost in relief, but his voice also holds another emotion, too, “Listen, don’t freak out.”

You freeze, “What? Why?”

The worst possible scenarios go through your brain instantly, and you begin to listen for signs of Josie in the background. Her laugh, her whine at Scott to hurry up. 

“Just let me get it all out, first,” he demands, then groans in pain, “Fuck, okay, we got into an accident. Josie is fine. Not hurt at all. I think I broke my arm, so I’m in an ambulance. They’re taking both of us to the hospital, but she’s right here, she’s good, she’s with me.”

You suddenly can’t suck in a deep breath. All you can picture is Josie in the back of an ambulance, hurt. Josie in a car accident. Josie being scared because she doesn’t understand what’s happening. 

Tears blur your vision just at the thought of her being alone, and the inhale that you try to suck in is sharp and quick. 

“Let me speak to her,” you choke out. 

Scott sighs but complies with your request, and you listen to their muffled voices before you get clarity. 

“Mommy, Uncle Scott is hurt,” she tells you, and just the sound of her voice brings relief to your body, mind, and heart. 

“Josie, baby, are you okay?” you ask her, letting the tears run without a care in the world. 

“Yes, Mommy. They let me put the siren on.”

You laugh, then cry again, “Oh, that’s awesome. Listen, Mommy’s gonna come pick you up, okay? Can you just stay with Uncle Scott for a little bit?”

Josie immediately whines, “No, he’s hurt. I have to stay with him. I told Daddy I am staying.”

A fresh wave of anxiety runs through your body. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind yet, but apparently, it had to Josie. 

“You told Daddy?” you ask weakly, “When?”

“I called him,” she answers, “I was scared, and wanted Daddy.”

“Oh,” your eyes flutter shut, “Okay, honey. Just stay with Uncle Scott until I see you. I love you so much, Jo.”

“Love you, too, Mommy,” she says, sounding perfectly fine, perfectly normal, and all you want to do is get to her. 

She hands the phone back to Scott, and you hear him grunt again in pain before his voice comes through the speaker. 

“”Y/N, I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “It wasn’t my fault, I swear, I did everything right—”

“I’m on my way,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear any of the details right now, “Just… I love you. I’m glad you’re okay other than the arm.”

He takes a minute to answer, and you can see the exact expression on his face as he debates what’s best to do right now. 

“Thanks,” he eventually says, “I love you, too.”

“See you soon,” you mumble, then disconnect the call before either one of you can say anything else. 

The first thing you do is check your text messages. Rafe has sent nothing, said nothing. When it comes to Rafe, you know silence from him is worse than anything else. You take a deep breath and attempt to type out a text to him, but delete it before you can find the words to explain to him any part of it. 

With a long sigh, you hurry up the stairs and into Connor’s room, forgetting all about his soup and medicine. He sits up when you enter, and when he sees the expression on your face, his eyes widen. 

“What’s wrong, Mama?” he asks, coughing after he finishes his question. 

“We have to go, baby. Can you come with me, please?” 

He nods and stands from his bed, bringing his blanket along with him. You put socks on his feet and slide his shoes on, then carry him down the stairs, wrapped in his blanket. Your mind can’t stop running wild as you picture Josie in Scott’s truck, scared out of her mind. You don’t even notice the tears that fall until Connor reaches up and brushes them away with his finger. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, you strap him into his car seat and pull back to look at his face. 

“I’m so sorry, handsome,” you whisper, “I know you don’t feel well, but we have to go pick up Josie.”

“Okay, Mama,” he replies, even going so far as to offer you a small smile. 

You’re grateful for it, and you show him such. With a kiss on the cheek, you close the car door and climb into the driver’s side, all while trying not to burst into tears again. 

Your knuckles turn white as you squeeze the steering wheel, glancing up at Connor every five seconds in the rear view mirror. He’s still okay, still staring out the window, but you’re paranoid about every single car that even comes close to yours. 

The drive to the hospital finally comes to an end, and you’ve barely parked your car before you’re out of it again. Connor is once again placed on your hip, and you rush in from the parking lot. 

Once you’re inside, you hurry to the closest nurse you can find. She directs you to a desk, who directs you to another nurse, who, finally, tells you what room number to go to. Connor buries his head in your neck and starts to cough again, and the guilt piles on top of your chest. 

You finally spot the room number on the wall and rush to it, just needing to lay eyes on her. To assess her for injuries and make sure that she really is okay. When you enter, you relax instantly. Scott is laying in the bed with his arm in a sling, and Josie is seated in the middle of his chest, giggling as he pokes her stomach. They both look so happy despite their current state and what they’ve been through in the past hour. 

“Josie,” you sigh in relief, setting Connor down in the singular chair before hurrying to her and pulling her into your arms. 

“Mommy,” she cheers, “Look, Uncle Scott got a boo-boo.”

You cradle her head and rock her in your arms, then glance at Scott. He’s giving you a sad smile and a wave using his bad arm, but you shake your head at him. 

“Is it broken?” you ask him. 

“Yeah,” he replies with a shrug, “I’ll get a cool brace for it, though.”

You roll your eyes, “Scott—”

“Y/N,” he stops you, his expression suddenly serious, “The guy ran a red light. I didn’t even see him coming until— Look, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my fault.”

“I know,” you nod, and you mean it. 

He’s your brother, and you believe him. Especially because he needs you to so desperately, given that he won’t stop trying to explain himself. 

“Good. Now, I have to use the bathroom, then I want to see what’s going on with Little Cam. You don’t look so hot, dude.”

Connor shrugs, “Been better.”

Scott chuckles and stands from the hospital bed, taking two steps over to Connor. 

“You like my sling?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Connor smiles, “Does it hurt?”

“No, I’m tough.”

Connor laughs and so does Josie, and for a brief moment, you feel emotionally stable. You feel at peace, knowing that everyone is okay. 

Then, the door pushes open, and reality slaps you right in the face. You turn too late, and Rafe’s eyes have already assessed the room. He’s frozen for a moment, long enough for you to set Josie down, because you know she’ll want to run to him. 

Instead of waiting on that, however, Rafe crosses the room in a few strides, and you figure out just a beat too late what’s going to happen. 

With a clenched jaw and a balled fist, Rafe states at Scott right as he starts to explain what happened. 

“Yo, Rafe—” he starts, but Rafe’s fist connects with his jaw and knocks him flat on the ground. 

“Oh, my God,” you yell, grabbing Josie and holding her against you while you reach for Connor’s hand. 

Your only focus is getting them both out of the room. You know Scott can fight his own battles, and there’s nothing you can do to talk to Rafe when he’s like this. Looking like he knows this, Scott remains on the ground, leaving Rafe with nothing. He’s dead silent as he turns and faces you and the kids, looking away from you within the same second your eyes meet. 

“Josephine,” Rafe says in relief, crossing over to you and pulling her from you without a word or a look, “Hey, princess. My girl. I was so worried about you. Are you okay?” 

She nods, “Yes, Daddy. I just got scared.”

“I know you did, baby. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to comfort you. Do you have any injuries?”

Josie doesn’t respond right away, and you take it as an opportunity. 

“She’s okay. I checked her when I got here.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker to you for only a moment. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look at you with anything besides pure admiration and love. This time, his glance is cold, calculated, and practically unrecognizable. 

“Let me take you home,” he says to her, “I’m gonna take you home, and nobody will ever take you anywhere again.”

“Except for you?” she asks. 

“Except for me,” he replies with a nod, “Let’s take Bubby home, too, okay?”

Your heart sinks as Rafe looks down at Connor, who is gripping his blanket tightly. When Rafe offers him a hand, Connor slips out of your grasp and takes it. 

You frown, “I can take—”

“Y/N, I’m so damn pissed right now. You need to stay with your brother, since that’s clearly where you want to be.”

He doesn’t even look at you as he says it, which is what makes the tears come. He’s too busy fussing over Josie’s hair and Connor’s runny nose. Rafe grabs him a tissue, then tosses it when Connor’s done. 

You look over at Scott and find him still seated on the floor, blood running down his chin from his nose, and he’s just staring at the kids. You’re sure he thinks this could be his final time seeing them in a long time, and you feel sick over that. 

“Rafe,” you choke out, “Please, just listen—”

“No,” he snaps, “Not to you. I’m taking them home.”

Connor whimpers, but when Rafe takes his hand again, he doesn’t object as his dad starts to lead him out of the room. Nobody says a word, and before you can blink, the three of them are gone. 

“Fuck,” Scott groans from the floor, “Y/N, I’m so—”

“Don’t,” you shake your head, turning back to him and observing his state before stepping over and offering him a hand, “Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

     Scott gets released from the hospital a few hours later, and you drive him back to his apartment. Neither of you speak about anything other than the weather and your parents, because neither of you know what to say. You want to pretend like everything is fine. At least for now. 

You set him up on his couch with dinner, snacks, and a blanket, then let him know that you love him no matter what. In return, he offers you his room if you need a place to crash, and you almost burst into tears right then and there. 

      By the time you make it home, you know the kids will already be in bed. You debate taking the long way, but the fact that Connor is sick draws you back to the house so you can check on him. 

You pull your car into the garage and shut it off, then get out quickly before you can debate sitting inside for a while. You sigh and push open the door to the house, not knowing exactly what you’re walking into with Rafe.

The house is dark and silent. There’s no plate of dinner sitting on the counter for you like he usually leaves behind, and no light on in the living room to guide your path to bed. With a heavy heart, you head upstairs and peek your head into Connor’s bedroom. He’s sound asleep with a box of tissues and an empty medicine cup on his nightstand. 

Of course Rafe took care of everything. 

Quietly, you close his bedroom door and cross the hall over to Josie’s bedroom. When you peek in, you find her bed to be empty, but her stuffed animals are missing. Immediately, you know where she is. 

You hesitate at the door to your shared bedroom with Rafe for a brief moment, then push open the door and walk inside. Rafe’s bedside lamp is on, which allows you to see him lying on his side of the bed on his side, with Josie facing him. She’s tucked in his arms and sleeping soundly, but Rafe is wide awake and watching every single breath she draws. 

He never looks over at you. For a moment, you wonder if he even realizes you came into the room. When your lips part to speak, no sound comes out. You don’t know what to say or where to start.

“She could’ve been killed,” Rafe says evenly, like he’s stating a fact rather than getting emotional. His eyes don’t leave her for even a split second. 

“Rafe—” you start, but he sits up carefully. 

“Don’t wake her. I just got her to sleep.”

You silence yourself and stare at the two of them for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. After a moment, Rafe leans forward and brushes his lips over Josie’s forehead, then stands from the bed. He walks over to you, watching as you stand completely still in hopes that he’ll just take you into his arms and tell you that everything will be okay. Instead, he clenches his jaw and points to the door of the bedroom, silently telling you to walk through it. 

Rafe follows out of the room behind you and closes the door softly. You walk out to the couch and sit down, watching his movements extra carefully. He’s in sweatpants and a black tee shirt that you’ve always loved on him, but never told him so. 

You watch as he takes a deep breath, then places his hands on his hips. He doesn’t sit; he stands in front of you and keeps his eyes on anything but you. 

“Why was she with your brother?” 

His tone is harsh; like nothing you say in this moment could make sense to him. None of it will make any difference at all. 

“Um,” you shift, your voice shaky, “She— no, okay, the dance studio called and— wait—”

“Y/N,” Rafe stops you, exhaling loudly, “I just want you to explain why she was with your brother.”

You nod, “Okay. Sorry. So, I texted Scott and told him that we weren’t comfortable having the kids see him right now. He came over here to talk to me in person, thinking the kids weren’t home, and Josie saw him. So, naturally, she wouldn’t let him go, and he was just gonna have a snack with her and then leave. But, then, that dance studio called and said they had a spot for Josie this afternoon, and the spot was going to be given away if we couldn’t make it. I didn’t want to leave Connor, and Scott offered, and— Rafe, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, hands still proudly glued to his hips. His eyes close under the explanation, and the way his jaw is set tells you that, although it might make sense to him, he still isn’t happy or satisfied with the explanation. 

“You should have called me,” he says quietly, “I would’ve helped you work it out. I would’ve come home.”

“You were in a meeting, I didn’t want to bother you—”

“Bother me, Y/N!” he exclaims, silencing you, “Bother me. Every time. If it means I don’t get the fucking call that one of my kids has been in a car accident with someone I didn’t even want them around in the first place. How could you let her go with Scott? After we discussed it and agreed that he was off limits, you just—”

“I didn’t see any other choice,” you speak up, “I didn’t want them to give the spot away.”

“Let them give the damn spot away, then!” he cries, shaking his head, “I told you, she’d be fine dancing anywhere, but you were so dead set on this one place, and that was fine with me until you shipped her off with your brother and he almost got our daughter killed—”

“Rafe, the accident wasn’t his fault,” you say, finally having the courage to stand, “He loves her. He would never put her at risk.”

He laughs then, and it’s deep, loud, sarcastic. Your eyes hit the floor and you swallow, wanting nothing more than his touch. Despite Rafe being the one causing the ache in your chest, you know he’s the only one who can fix it. He’s the only one who can ever fix it. 

“He did put her at risk, Y/N. Many times. Every time he showed up drunk, every time he stumbled down the stairs. It’s not a fucking coincidence that this happened when she was with him.”

You draw back, shaking your head, “That’s not fair. It could’ve happened to anyone. It could’ve been me—”

“Don’t,” he says immediately, stepping closer to you, “Don’t you dare go there. It wouldn’t have. It can’t.”

“Why not, Rafe?” you question, raising a brow, angry that he wants to blame everything on Scott when you don’t feel it’s his fault, “You’d blame Scott for everything if you could. If I had decided to take Josie to dance, it would’ve been me and the kids at that intersection—-”

“No!” he shouts, silencing you once again, “Stop it. It can’t happen again, Y/N. I almost lost you once, it cannot fucking happen again.”

Your lips glue shut as you realize what this is truly about for him. He runs a hand through his hair and sucks in a deep breath, letting the silence fall between the two of you. 

You know exactly how Rafe has internalized the accident you were in the night of Midsummers with Topper and Kelce. You know, because he’s told you. How he had nightmares for ages afterward, how he still will grip the steering wheel with two hands when he drives with you in the car at night. How he thinks about it every year at Midsummers, regardless of how much time has passed. 

Now, you can’t imagine what this will do to him. His Josie, his baby girl. Getting that call was not easy on him, you’re sure, and for a moment, you understand why he’s so angry with you for putting him in that situation. 

“Rafe,” you whisper, watching the way he looks up at you with vulnerability in his eyes, “I’m so, so sorry.”

He nods, like he really just needed to hear that. You take a step closer, but before you can reach for him, he steps back. 

“I need to sleep on it all. We can regroup in the morning.”

You swallow and nod, unsure of what to do with your hands. You settle for tucking them behind your back, squirming under his gaze. 

“I’ll sleep upstairs. In case Connor needs anything,” you say. 

“Alright,” he nods, looking at you like he’s considering something. 

“Alright,” you repeat. 

He sighs, like he’s annoyed with himself, then steps forward and cups your cheeks. He stares at you for a moment before placing a kiss on your forehead forcefully, then drops you from his grip completely. 

You step forward out of habit, wanting his touch back. Instead of reaching for him, you just stare, knowing that he can tell what you want but refuses to give it to you. 

“I love you, Rafe,” you whisper to him. 

Even as angry as he is, he doesn’t miss a beat, “I love you, too.”

He nods, then turns around and leaves you like that. In the middle of the living room with his kiss still lingering on your forehead, and his words sitting in front of you, etching themselves into your heart so you never forget them. 

     When you wake in the morning, your first thought is of Connor. You don’t allow yourself to think of anything else, because it weighed on you all night, until you just couldn’t take it anymore. You cried in the guest room bed. Buried your face in a pillow and sobbed as you relived the day, your choices, and what became of them. You cry for Josie, for Rafe, for Scott. You cry because all you’d wanted to do was make the right choice for all of them, and you wound up only making the wrong ones. 

So, when you wake up with swollen under eyes and a red nose, the only thing you allow yourself to think about is Connor. 

He’s asleep when you enter his room, and when you feel his forehead, he feels the same as he had last night. You make a mental note to bring up more medicine for him, then take his temperature. 

Slipping back out of his room, you head downstairs. Your stomach twists as you hear Rafe talking to Josie in the kitchen, and the thought of facing him without knowing exactly how he feels today makes you anxious. 

As you walk in, you find Josie sitting on the counter and Rafe at the stove, where he flips a pancake in the pan. Josie giggles at something he said, and Rafe laughs back. His eyes catch on you, and for a brief moment, he smiles. Then, he drops it and looks down. 

“Hi, Mommy!” Josie cheers, “Daddy’s staying home today! He said I could, too.”

“He did, huh?” you smile at her, walking around the island to embrace her. 

“Thought I could, considering we’re not consulting each other on decisions anymore,” Rafe mutters. 

For Josie’s sake, you ignore him, but you stare at him while you do it. In no way can you tell Rafe how to feel or act, but you’re shocked at how openly petty he’s being. 

“Rafe—”

He cuts you off when he spins around with a plate in his hand, then gives Josie a wide smile. 

“Alright, princess, your breakfast is ready. Go sit at the table for me.”

He carries Josie’s plate over as you help her down from the counter, then watch her take off to her seat. Once she’s settled, Rafe comes back into the kitchen, but he doesn’t spare you a single glance. 

“How’d you sleep?” you try, stepping closer. 

“I didn’t,” he replies as he pours more pancake batter into the pan, “She did. All night.”

You swallow, “Good. So, listen, I was hoping—”

“I’m taking her to my parents’ today. We’ll swim and visit with Topper and Ellie. I figure Connor needs quiet, anyway.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod weakly, “Do you think we could talk later, though?”

“I don’t know.”

You frown and look at the floor, then glance over at the coffee pot. What’s usually filled halfway for you is now empty, and you know the pancakes he’s making on the stove are for himself. It makes your heart ache, to think that he’s so angry with you that he no longer wants to take care of you. 

“Rafe, I just… I want to fix it,” you practically beg, “Please.”

He drops the spatula on the counter before he turns to you, keeping his voice low on account of Josie. 

“This isn’t just something you can fix, Y/N. You hurt me. You prioritize your brother over our kids and you always have. Every time he stumbles in drunk, you always tell him it’s okay. It’s not. This time, you let him take our daughter and they got into an accident. She could’ve gotten really hurt. I’m not okay with that, and I never will be. Until you can get your priorities straight, I’m not interested in what you have to say.”

You step back from him and swallow the lump in your throat. Instead of just rolling over, you want to explain your thought process — have an actual conversation instead of bickering over the stove.

“He’s sick, Rafe. He’s an alcoholic. Guilting him every time he comes to us like that isn’t going to help him,” you reply, trying to stay strong despite the tears stinging your eyes, “And, how dare you accuse me of not prioritizing our family.  This is my top priority— my only priority. I made a judgment call, and I was wrong, I admit it. If I could go back and change it, I would.”

He shrugs, looking back down at the pancake, “But, you can’t.”

His left hand rests on the counter where he leans, supporting his body. You want to reach out and grab it, pull him into you and keep him close as you tell him that you’re sorry over and over again. You give in before you can help yourself, and when you cover his hand with your own, he doesn’t pull away immediately.

“Rafe, please,” you beg, but you’re not sure for what exactly. His eyes. His love. His forgiveness. 

“Don’t,” he says, pulling hand from under yours, “You really hurt me this time.”

Before you can say anything else, he plates his pancakes, then turns to face Josie. 

She grins when she sees him holding up his own plate, and he puts on his parent mask as he nears her. 

“Can we eat together, baby?” he asks enthusiastically, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was absolutely, positively, fine. 

     After Josie and Rafe leave, you bring Connor downstairs. You cuddle with him when he asks for it, you make him soup, give him more medicine, and watch Paw Patrol until he falls asleep on your lap. 

You, however, don’t nap. You stare at your phone screen, at a drafted text to Rafe as your thumb hovers over the send button. 

I hope you know that I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or Josie. I never would. The three of you are my priority. We can talk more when you’re ready, but I just want you to know that I’m thinking about what you said and I want to work this out with you more than anything. Please come home. 

You debate taking off the plea for him to come home, but you decide to leave it and press send. When you see that it went through, you put your phone down and take a deep breath, then leave your eyes glued to the screen so you can see the second he responds. 

When your phone does light up again, you pounce on it. You frown when you see Maddie’s name at the top of the new text, asking you why Rafe canceled the dinner plans that you two had with Maddie and Kelce tonight — which you’d completely forgotten about. 

You reply quickly and tell her that Connor is sick, and debate asking her if she can talk on the phone so you can get advice. However, you decide against it and fire off your excuse just as Rafe’s response comes in. 

We will pick up dinner and be there soon. How’s Connor? 

You smile, because something about this feels like progress. Silently, you look down to the sleeping boy, running your hand through his hair because you just can’t help yourself. 

He’s good. Sleeping off the fever, I hope. Thank you for getting dinner!

He won’t respond to that and you know it, but you don’t care. At least he gave you one response. 

     Connor wakes just before Josie and Rafe get home, and with a perfect temperature, he says he wants to stay downstairs for dinner. You nod and give him a hug, and when you hear the garage door open, you wave him up and into the kitchen. 

“Mommy!” Josie shouts when she enters the house, “Look, Daddy got me a princess sticker!”

She holds it up to you proudly as you hug her tight, “Oh, I love it, Jo.”

She beams and moves over to show it to Connor as Rafe walks in. He holds a pizza in his left hand and Josie’s bag in his right. You don’t miss the name on the pizza box — your favorite place, meaning he had to drive fifteen extra minutes each way to get it instead of getting the easy, shitty pizza down the street. 

“You got Lighthouse,” you say, biting your lip to hide a smile as you acknowledge his drive to the pizza place.

“Yeah, I—” he stops himself and closes his eyes, then shakes his head before repeating, “Yeah.”

You take a daring step forward, “Thank you.”

He nods once, and when you see him swallow down his impulse to reach for you, to hug you and kiss you and ask about your day, he looks over to the kids. 

“Hey, Connor. How are you feeling, buddy?”

Rafe steps past you to get to him, and the pizza you’d just been swooning over suddenly doesn’t seem as appetizing. Regardless, you get plates out and divide up slices while Rafe works behind you to get everyone drinks. He pours juice out for the kids and tells them to sit at the table, then gets a beer for himself. He doesn’t ask you what you want because he already knows, and he sets the glass of white wine at your place setting.

Dinner is quiet, but you pretend it’s only because Josie is tired from swimming all day and Connor isn’t feeling well. Everything feels off because you and Rafe didn’t work today — you told Rose that Connor was sick — and Josie didn’t go to school. It feels like it should be a weekend, but it’s not. 

You want to ask Rafe if he plans on going back to work tomorrow. If he wants to sleep next to you tonight, because you want to sleep next to him. You want to ask him everything, anything, just to get him to look at you. 

After dinner, Rafe volunteers himself to do bath and bedtime, which leaves you downstairs to clean up the small mess from the meal. As you clean, you spot a tub of ice cream in the freezer and pull it out, smiling to yourself at your little idea. 

     When Rafe comes back downstairs, he doesn’t look for you. Instead, he makes his way into your shared bedroom, already peeling off his shirt in preparation for a shower when he freezes. You’re sitting on his side of the bed with two small bowls of ice cream and that pout on your lips that you know he loves. He visibly softens at the sight, and when you hold up the bowl, his jaw ticks. 

“You’re something else,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, as he crosses the room shirtless. 

You give him a small smile as he plants himself beside you and accepts the bowl. His knee touches yours, and you feel giddy inside when he doesn’t pull himself away. 

“I’m trying, Rafe,” you whisper as he takes a bite, staring down at the bowl instead of you, “I’m trying to figure out what to do. Because I miss you. And I know I made a mistake. But I don’t want to cut my brother off in the process of working this out. He’s doing better, and I’m afraid that would trigger him into a relapse, or something.”

“I get that,” he murmurs. 

“So, let’s talk about it. All three of us. Let’s set clear boundaries and we can even make a timeline—”

“Y/N,” Rafe practically laughs, “I already did that with you. I told you that I wasn’t ready. I set my boundary, and you crossed it.”

You swallow, “I know, but I think it will help if Scott is clued in, too. That way, wires don’t get crossed, and we can all—”

“We can all what?” he scoffs, standing up, “Live happily ever after? Scott can worm his way back into our kids’ lives? I cave on a lot of shit for you, Y/N, but this is not something you can ask me to do.”

“Rafe, I’m not asking you to change how you feel,” you reply, your voice small and pleading, as if silently begging him to sit back down with you, “Please, I’m not. I’m just trying to make everyone happy.”

He shakes his head and lets his eyes close, rolling them behind his lids, “That’s the problem with you. You’re always so focused on how everyone else feels. You’re so afraid to tell Scott ‘no’ because you’re afraid you’ll be responsible for a relapse if you do. You know what, Y/N? You’re allowed to be selfish. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself and our children. Scott is a grown ass man, and his choices are his own. You baby the fuck out of him, and it needs to stop.”

You digest Rafe’s words, letting them hang in the air between the two of you. On one hand, you want to fight back. You want to tell him that Scott is your family, and you’re just trying to help. On the other hand, you see how trying to help turned into Josie being in an accident. Then, you hear Rafe’s words in your head once more. 

I cave on a lot of shit for you. 

He does, and you know it. With a deep breath, you nod your head, willing to sacrifice for him the way he always does for you — without a second thought. 

“Okay,” you whisper, watching his eyes dart to you, “Alright. I’ll take space. I’ll work on it. Whatever is best for you and the kids, I will do that.”

Rafe stares at you like that’s the last thing he expected you to say. His hands meet his hips and he assesses you from head to toe before swallowing. 

“Maybe you should sleep on that decision,” he says carefully. 

You shake your head, ignoring the stinging in your eyes. He watches you carefully as you stand up and step over to him, then place a gentle hand on his chest. You can feel his heart racing, and you want to smile at the thought of still being able to do that to him after all this time. 

“I don’t need to. You’re right, I let people walk all over me because I don’t want to disappoint anyone. But, our marriage is my priority, and our children are my priority, and I need to do better. I’m sorry, Rafe, I’m so sorry.”

His eyes close when your lips ghost over his cheek. His fists ball at his sides as he fights the urge to pull you in, to forget it all and just let his body take over. You move down and kiss along his jawline, then back up to his mouth. You let your lips hover for a moment, giving him time to object, before you lean closer. 

“Y/N,” he whispers at the very last second, “You can’t just tell me what I want to hear because we’re in a fight. You need to figure this shit out for yourself.”

“Rafe,” you sigh, but he shakes his head. 

“I need some time, too. This really rattled me, and I need to figure out how I want to proceed.”

You furrow your brows, “How you want to proceed? Like, with us?”

You fear the answer more than anything, but you need to hear it. 

“With everything,” he replies, “I just… I need sleep. So do you.”

You nod but don’t say a word, standing there and thinking about the melting ice cream that sits on your bed. 

Rafe takes a deep breath and watches as you avoid his eyes, then sighs and steps forward. You think he might reach out to touch you, grab you, kiss you, anything. Instead, he picks up his pillow from his side of the bed and steps back, offering you half a smile. 

“I’ll be on the couch,” he mumbles, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you reply. 

He picks up the two ice cream bowls and carries them to the door, turning back and staring at the scene in front of him for a moment. You, still standing on his side of the bed, where you know you’ll sleep tonight. 

“Love you,” he whispers. 

“Love you, too.”

He nods and then closes the door behind him. Only then do you fall into his side of the bed and inhale his scent on the sheets, allowing your tears to fall right where you lay. You don’t grab a pillow, you don’t cover yourself with a blanket. You just cry until your body grows so tired that it forces you to sleep, with swollen eyes and a regretful heart. 

     You jolt awake to the sound of the doorknob to your bedroom rattling up and down a few times, which immediately has you sitting up in bed. Your first thought is that it’s Connor trying to get in because he’s sick, and your heart sinks at the thought of him having gotten worse. 

Which is why, when Rafe comes rushing into the room, your eyes grow wide. He’s shirtless and his hair is a mess, but more than that, he looks completely terrified. Your heart races as he starts over to you at a fast pace, lips parted like he’s trying to speak, but can’t. 

“Rafe, what is it?” you ask softly. 

His breaths are shallow and jagged, and when he tries to inhale, it seems like he can’t. You scoot closer to the edge of the bed, and when he rounds the mattress and gets to you, he sinks to his knees in front of you. 

“You’re okay,” he whispers in relief, beginning to check you from top to bottom with his eyes and hands, “Fuck, thank God.”

His palms grip your forearms and he flips them over to check for any sort of marking or injury, then moves down your body to your legs. He runs his hands over every square inch of your skin, and you let him. 

“Of course I’m okay,” you reply, grabbing one of his hands in yours, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He lets out a long breath, then shakes his head, but his hands never leave you. He grips you tight, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go for even a moment. 

“Nothing, nothing,” he rushes, “Just a bad dream, I guess. Felt real.”

You tense, “Are you having nightmares again?”

He shrugs, but when you cup his cheek with your free hand, he nods. 

“Yeah,” he admits shyly, “I, um, I know we’re in a weird place right now, but—”

“Come to bed,” you demand, tugging him in. 

He nods, as if that’s exactly what he wanted you to say. You scoot over just enough for him to crawl onto the mattress, then bury yourself in him the moment he’s laying flat. His arms wrap around you and your head presses against his heart; this time racing for a different reason. 

Just as you settle and the room falls silent, you debate what to say. If you should ask any questions or just let him be. Rafe speaks, silencing your mind. 

“Y/N,” he whispers into the darkness, “I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me,” you encourage, squeezing him slightly. 

He takes a long moment to start, but when he does, you can tell by the shakiness in his voice that he’s emotional.

“I think part of the reason I got so upset with you was because I was very aware of the fact that it could’ve been the three of you at that intersection. Even though you let Scott take her against my wishes, you still made the right choice, somehow. Because, I swear, if I had gotten a call that all of you were at the hospital, I think I would’ve had a heart attack right then and there in my office.”

“Rafe,” you whine, cuddling closer. 

He shakes his head, “Let me finish, okay, baby?”

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“I’m terrified that something will happen one day. That I won’t be there to protect you, or stop it, or fix it, and this whole thing really brought that fear out of me. I know that I seem overprotective with the kids, especially with Scott, but I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to them. To you. You’re my entire world, Y/N. I just need you to understand that.”

“I do understand that,” you answer, heart hammering in your chest, “But, we also can’t live our lives in fear of what could happen. All we can do is take precautions and make informed decisions together. I fucked up, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Rafe. I would never, ever do that on purpose. I love you too much to even consider it.”

He swallows roughly, “I know, sweetheart.”

You want to say more, to spill your guts and tell him every thought you’ve had for the past twenty four hours. Instead, you cuddle deeper into him and inhale his scent, then kiss his cheek. 

“You should sleep, handsome,” you whisper against his skin, “I’m right here, and I’m okay. We’ll work it out in the morning.”

He nods, then presses a kiss into your hair, “I’m in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” you reply, “That means you’re stuck with me.”

He chuckles lightly, “Good.”

You smile against him, then kiss his cheek once more before you resign to laying your head on his chest. Both of you are asleep in seconds, surrounded in the warmth and love of the other. 

     When you wake up in the morning, your hands are both tangled in Rafe’s. You feel his smooth palms in yours and you smile before you even open your eyes to find him. When you do, he’s laying across from you, already wide awake. When his eyes meet yours, his lips tip up in a smile. 

"What are you staring at?” you ask teasingly, shifting closer. 

“My wife,” he replies in that morning voice that always seems to get you, “My beautiful, infuriating wife.”

You laugh, even though it shouldn’t be funny. He smiles a real smile then, and you bask in it. Having not seen it in what feels like forever, you want to keep it there for the rest of your life. 

“Rafe,” you whisper. “I—”

“I know,” he stops you, tugging you closer, “I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“Really?” you ask hopefully. 

“Mhm,” he hums, “Can you just promise that you’ll call me the next time you don’t know what to do? No matter what?”

You nod, “I promise.”

“Thank you,” he says, then takes a breath before saying, “Now, about your brother.”

“I still want him in my life, Rafe. But, I’ll meet up with him and really discuss boundaries and everything. I’ll take the house key from him. I will do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable, but I won’t cut him out.”

He nods, “I’m not asking you to cut him out, baby. Not at all. You just need to be more firm with him. You know Scott, you give him an inch, he takes a mile.”

“I know,” you reply, dropping your shoulders at the evident quality your brother possesses, “I’ll work on being more assertive with my boundaries when it comes to him.”

“Good. You deserve to be appreciated and respected. You’re not a doormat for your brother and his issues.”

You know Rafe’s right, but you’re not ready to admit that that might just be what Scott has been doing to you. That he knows you’ll go easy on him, so he comes to you first. You haven’t wanted to see it, so you don’t. 

“So, we’re okay?” you ask, biting your lip. 

He stares at you for a moment, and you notice how his look of admiration has returned. You smile as he begins to nod, then squeeze his hand. 

“We’re okay,” he replies, “Sorry if I scared you last night.”

“You did. Do you think our fight brought it on?” 

He shrugs, “The fight. Josie being in the accident. I’m sure it will go away in the next few nights, as I calm down.”

You nod in understanding, then place a few gentle pecks onto his bare chest. 

“If there’s anything I can do, tell me,” you murmur, “You’re never alone.”

“Thank you, baby.”

As much as you want to stay and bask in his body heat, you know you should get up to check on Connor and take him more medicine. Rafe can feel you tense as you prepare to move, and his grip tightens. 

“Rafe—”

“He’s fine,” Rafe bluffs, “Don’t get up.”

“I have to.”

He laughs gruffly, then releases you. Reluctantly, you climb from the bed in your tank top and short shorts, eliciting a groan from Rafe where he lays. Without being able to contain himself, it seems, he reaches over and swats your backside as you escape from the bed, earning a jaw drop from you. 

“Sorry,” he grins mischievously. 

“Sure you are,” you mutter, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really am, sweetheart. I remind myself every day.”

You know he’s being his silly self, but the words bring butterflies to your stomach. You grin and turn back to look at him as you walk toward your bedroom door, taking a mental picture of him laying in bed with his shirt off and his hair messy. He’s practically begging you to come back to him, and for a moment, you strongly consider it. 

“Don’t move,” you command, “I’ll be back in ten.”

He chuckles, “Yes ma’am.”

You hurry from the room and up the stairs, already missing Rafe’s heat and the comfort of your bed with him in it. You’re already making plans for when you return to your bedroom, because although fighting with Rafe is one of the worst things in your entire world, making up is your absolute favorite.

*i no longer have a tag list! follow @mackupdates for updates! thank you for reading <3

[pinkchaosnight]

so here is my adar request. basically in which the fem!reader is taken in ep 5 instead of galadriel. once in adar's tent (during ep 6) they talk and get into a heated discussion about sauron and eregion. their banter gets so intense that glûg walks inside to see if everything is okay and then they both snap at them in union and then glûg whispers something like "oh no, dad and mom are fighting" idk something humorous lol. (excuse my grammar mistakes - English is not my native language). i need tension like air.

omg , tysm for this ask. its absolutely flawless. i enjoyed this ep so much! i have initially thought of doing a small imagine but somehow it turned it into this long, also i diverged from the ask slightly too🥹. i have changed some dialouges and scenarios. i hope you enjoy them!

pull of threads - (adar × fem!reader)

summary: dinner with adar is never straightforward is it? when especially you are captured and essentially sort of a prisoner?

(reimagined rings of power ep 6 where reader gets captured instead of Galadriel)

pairing : adar x female!reader

notes : english is not my first language, so i apologize in advance for the errors you might encounter. i have not properly edited, so please let me know if you find any error.

the uruk leader seated across you is poking his food with a vigour, as he regards you with suspicion. humiliation might be the nicest thing you can describe about what you are feeling right now, (along with some other feelings too but you blatantly ignore them) being captured as a prisoner. you were Lady Galadriel's friend and the her aide, until a few months ago when you retired from your post. everything that was going on was so overwhelming that you had to step away from your duties and that's exactly what you did. you travelled around, mostly staying in woods and forests and praying orcs don't chase you. you almost succeeded too until you recieved a letter from Lady Galadriel stating she needed your help, now that they are going to warn Celebrimbor about Halbrand being Sauron. you were reading her letter without a care for your surrounding that unfortunately resulted in you being captured and brought to the uruk camp. and thats why you were currently in this situation, being seated in front the uruk leader. Adar, he is called, as you recall from the days Lady Galadriel captured him many months ago.

the tent which was made up of dirty rags, was surprisingly warm, with a fireplace and a huge table laden with food. combinations of food that seems almost a disgrace to the plates it hold ; with berries, onions and meat. whoever did the dinner should be tossed into the cliff. the said uruk leader was now biting into a piece of meat from god knows what, as he watches you. if he is hoping to catch something from your expression he has another thing coming for him, as you keep your face as emotionless as you can, although Eru knows for how long.

" from my brief time in your Commander's capture, I guessed she was intent on finding Sauron. almost consumed by the thought of it, one might say." his words sliced the depth of silence that hanged between you and him.

" former Commander. and it is none of your concern what her intentions are. who are you to know her mind? you who could not even resist the allure of Sauron's words?" you reply in a monotonous way, hoping he doesn't find anything there.

Adar stops as he hears those words, as he slowly puts down the piece of food he is chewing. he remembers the first time he saw you; being chained up after being captured by Galadriel. all around him was dark but you came with a jar of water and a loaf of bread for him, when everybody was kind of neglecting him, except for when they needed information and torturing. that simple act of kindess and the conversions that ranged from 'hello' to a simple 'have a good day' that followed from your side warmed what little was left of his beating heart. he remember you being firercely loyal to Galadriel yet having a mind of your own to speak if necessary. he remembers how you disagreed when your commander spoke of his children as slaves. and above all, he remembers how you exuded a sense of warmth in that cold space.

now he looks at you in surprise as he leans forward "former?"

you squirm uncomfortably in your seat. after all, how could you let him know that one of the reasons why you left the army and being her secondin command, was his words? the converstion between him, Lady Galadriel and you, when he was captured really messed up your perceptive. other elves could not see but you saw what he was trying to say; that the uruks were just as worthy of lives and living as other creations of Eru, as each had a heart. you remember disagreeing with Lady Galadriel when she mentioned them as slaves, and Adar's eyes flashing in you direction, with ambiguous emotions.

shaking out of your reverie you say "yes, i am no longer her second in command, so its really useless to have me captured in here. i can offer you nothing. "

adar chuckles at your statement, as he rises from his seat and strides towards you. he stops infront of your chair, as he looks at you with an intense stare. and you couldn't help but stare back at him. those eyes, surrounded by scars and years of mutilation, made your heart ache with pain. you wonder what he was thinking, what he was plotting behind those somber eyes of his. you always wondered what happened to him after you ran away from the campsite that day. you retired and wandered in woods after that incident, with nothing to keep you company but fragments of him in your memory. love and hatred have a fine line separating them; you often heard from your friends and in those lonely nights on the woods you wandered if that is true. if you can cross that line with bravery. something that you are afraid to reveal to anyone. he was the one in your mind and on the other side of that fine line, as swirls of feeling wound up in your heart. a dangerous feeling to have for man who is going to kill you......one day.

"who says you can offer me nothing?" he says as he strides close to your face and tucks a strand of hair back. funny he did that because you had the same thought too, of brushing the loose hair of his and tucking it back. "my children found this in your bag" he says as he pulls out the scroll from a table behind you. "we know the elven army is approaching to find Sauron, in Eregion. And that has all the confirmation i want. and i know Halbrand is Sauron"

desperation washes over you as you see the scroll of paper Lady Galadriel wrote and gave you to read before she parted ways. you never got a chance to read the rest of paper as she and you went seprate ways, before you got caught by his minions.

" whatever your plan is, it is not going to work " you say with venom, as you stand up in anger (or so you thought stubbornly), coming face to face with him.

"do you know what Sauron promised me? " Adar asks you as he studies your expression flits from anger to confusion "children, he promised me children. and he made that promise into weapons of wars, my children mere tools for his gratifications, something which can be eradicated at his whims" he says, his voice a tad quite and flushed with sadness. it took all my willpower to keep my hands from reaching his and comforting him.

" you are going to kill him Eregion, aren't you?" i ask as realisation hits me a few seconds later. he moves back a few paces, widening the tantalizing distance betweeen us and doesn't reply as he keeps his back to me.

" you cannot, i think it is his plan too. i just have feeling in my heart this is exactly what he wants. for you to lead your army to him. we must ask Lady Galadriel's advice" i say as he turns and shoots me a look of disbelief.

"why should i listen to the words of someone whose race is hellbent on eradicating us from the face of this plane?" he shouts as he paces towards you, shaking with anger. "i did not capture you to hear your advice. Eregion will fall and Sauron with it" he says as closes the distance between us, trapping me between the chair and him.

"i want Sauron to fall too, i want to kill him and make sure he is permanently wiped off from this earth. but not in this way." i shriek in his face, which was merely inches apart from mine.

"i do not know why you care if i lead my army or not " he hisses as he moves back from me again, his eyes capturing my own ones in anger and perhaps sadness.

there is a tipping point for everyone's anger and you could feel his words pushing you to yours. you could no longer hold the feelings erupting inside you as you shouts." i care because this will all be ending in blooshed. i care because all my loved ones are going there and i don't want them to die. i care for the lives that will be sacrificed if you chose to follow this foolish plan of yours. and i care that something will happen to you and you will not make it out alive"

reality of the words registers in your brain as soon as the words escape your mouth. you have opened your heart and mouth and let all the dam of emotions you kept inside to turn into a river. and now you are going to suffer the consequences, preferably being submerged in those same waters, which you so kept in binds inside your now erratically beating organ.

Adar was stunned, staring at you in utter silence. his heart tingled, with the same warmth he felt months ago in your presence. his ears has always been the receiver of abuse and bad news, never the object to receive the sentiment with which you uttered the words quite a few seconds ago; words with care...and love. he slowly steps forward you, his hands unclenching from the remnant of his anger and reaching towards your face "you ....care about me.....?" his voice is a mere whisper, tinged with something you couldn't place. this goddess, this beacon of kindness care about him?

you wanted to melt into those eyes of his, that is oh so mysterious and perhaps you would have, if the tents did not flap open suddenly.

" lord father, glûg here. i heard shouts coming from outside. i was worried and just came inside to check if you are okay and if nan--" glûg stops as he sees you standing closely to his lord father. you notice his surprise being replaced with a slight smirk in your direction.

"get out" adar and you both says in unison, as you turn towards the orc in annoyance.

"certainly lord father" glûg says as turns away to exit "just lover's quarrel, lord father and naneth better make up". he exits as quickly as he can, muttering to himself.

you turn your head towards him, only to catch his eyes searching your face "yes i do care about you...." your voice is shaking but not in anger and with some other emotions you tried so hard to bury.

a flicker of emotions passes over his eyes as he glazes his vision over you "you think you are the only one who cares? why did you even think i captured you instead of your Commander, when i could have easily caught her and gotten the information too? why did you think you never encountered any orcs while you were sauntering through the woods? never have you escaped from my mind for a moment from the day we met. i tried so hard to keep every emotions i am feeling, hidden from you. but tonight i can't and i won't. i know i am a monster, an abomination for someone so kind as you. but tonight i am baring the one thing that has not been tainted by the evil , to your hands."

he places your hand on his chest, as you your eyes brim with tears. you feel his heart beating erratically, mirroring yours. "from the day you pulled me from that dark abyss, i decided that this heart will only belong to one person, to the one person this heart wholeheartedly loves."

time stops as you hears his words, it is like honey being poured into your ears. "so does mine too" you reciprocate, as you places his hands on your chest. "you are neither a monster nor an abomination. you are beautiful as Eru's any other creation. i even left the army because of you. because you keep on invading my everyday thoughts. and i kept thinking of how you are my enemy and i how i should hate you. but my heart never responded to any negative emotions, for all it had was love for you."

fianlly you can let this emotion run free, this plaguing need for him that you tried so hard to conceal. you would have stood there for eternity, for all of your immortal life, with his warm hands pressing yours into his chest. no words are exchanged betweeen you two in these seconds; no words are needed as the beating of your heart and the measure of your breath are enough to convey the feelings pouring off from both of you. he slowly closes the already miniscule distance betweeen you, as you step forward at the same time too, the tantalizing distance between your lips almost unbearable. you can feel his breath near your mouth, as your lips part with breathlessness and need. you just need to lean forward and place your mouth. you slowly reach forward, just enough to press the lips against his----

" lord father, i got a sudden report that---what is happening here?" glûg's voice rang across the tent as you and adar both turned to his direction.

" GET OUT GLÛG" you both cries in unison as poor glûg scurries off, being banished from the tent second time. but not before he catches a warm smile passing over his lord father. glûg catches from his peripheral vision, of his lord father pressing a chaste kiss in your cheek before placing his forehead against yours and smiling a genuine smile, which he has never seen.

'things will be good from now on' glûg thinks as he passes over to the next tent, thinking of the elf that thawed the ice of his lord father's heart. the one his lord father told him about months; the one lord father instructed him to call naneth in the future. and the one who made his lord father whole again after eons.

extra notes - all the asks i got, i will update them by this week itself, tysm for requesting! please leave a like and reblog and if you enjoyed reading them. hope everyone have an amazing day :)

[adventuringblind]

Breathe For Me

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Dialouge: "It's okay, you can rest. We've got you. Just Breathe."

Summary: Marks on your soulmates skin appear on yours. Oscar and Lando hope they find whoever it is before they run out of time.

Warnings: SELF-HARM, Alcohol, scars, blood, panic attacks,

Notes: This is Part of my 1000 follower event. Feel free to click the link and throw me a request!

Masterlist

It's not every day you meet your soulmate. It's certainly not rare, but it also isn't an everyday event and is supposed to only happen once. If you're Lando Norris, then you get to go through it twice.

Originally he thought only one. I mean, maybe his souldmate is just clumsy. That is not the case however, because Lando has more scars, cuts, bumps, and bruises then anyone else he knows. He would be fine with it if he wasn't on national television all the time.

Max and Charles were lucky and found each other in Karting. Max had a bruise on his face from his dad and showed up to the race with it still getting darker. Charles had one to match. Now they're happily in love and the public doesn't now (is what they tell themselves).

So Lando finds himself stuck in between a soulmate who bruises every occasionally and on who gets scrapes nearly every day. He feels for whoever the first is because Lando is clumsy and is always running into things. Between himself and whoever the latter is, he probably is already exasperated.

Aside from his family, Carlos is the first person to notice. He double checks nothing is happening in Lando's own life that is causing all the marks. He assures happily that he's clumsy and the two soul mates certainly don't help.

Lando has heard of people carving names and addresses into their arms to find their destined partner. He lets it happen naturally. It's supposed destiny and who is he to rush it?

Daniel admits to an extreme worry of Lando. The older driver kept a close eye on him and Lando has to reassure him non-stop that he's clumsy, but it's not that bad.

He soon realizes that it's not the bruises Daniel is worried about, it's the scars. When his sweatshirt sleeves roll up the red lines are visible. It's something he's gotten used to over the past couple of years, but he dosen't think about it when he's not being filmed.

They cover a good amount of space on his body. Biceps, collarbone, thighs, stomach, and shins. It wasn't that bad until 2021 when it got significantly worse. It's stressing him out if he's being honest with himself.

He's is pieces when Daniel tells him he's losing his seat. No other driver lined up yet. Another teammate gone.

Daniel reassures him that Oscar looks like he'll make a good teammate. Lando is skeptical. Oscar is younger and a rookie.

The first time he meets Oscar is at the MTC. They shake hands, two sets of sleeves role up and Lando can't help but stare.

They match. Their wrists are completely identical.

They don't talk about it until a while later after spending the off season getting to know each other. They determined in Febuary they would be really close friends. It obviously escalated and now Charlotte keeps tell him to make it less obvious.

He's nit afraid to say he's weak for Oscar. A calm in his storm of emotions. The one person who can get him to actually rationalize his anxious thoughts.

In 2023, three rookies came to the grid. One of them being a female driver for alphatauri and a good friend of Oscar's. She then consequently became a friend of Lando's.

Which would be so terrible if Lando didn't know for a fact she's hiding something. She's shy and closed off to everybody unless it's him or Oscar. Mostly because he's forced his way under her skin.

"There is something about her, Osc. I can feel it in my bones."

"Are you sure it's not the cup of milk you downed getting to your head?"

"Rude!"

Oddly enough, it's max who approaches them about her later. He'd gotten to know her through media things and race weekends and often asked Lando about her or vice versa.

He pulls Oscar and him aside early one morning in the paddock. Oscar is still half asleep and Lando doesn't know what's happened until Max slides their sleeves up.

The ones they decided to wear to the cameras didn't pick up the fresh scar close to their elbow on their forearms. Completely identical to each other.

"You said you have another soulmate right?"

"Yes?"

"I think I might know who it is."

This is how Lando and Oscar find themselves in front of her hotel room door after the race. A DNF that wasn't her fault had ended her race early. Max had been about to go get her himself, but Lando and Oscar had said they would. If Max is right then they have a higher chance of getting through to the female driver.

Max sent them with the key card he has to her room. The one he forced her to give after he found her last night with a blade in her hand.

They knock out of curtosey first. No answer, as expected, but at least they tried. Maybe She’s asleep? Lando knows that’s probably not the case but he really doesn’t want to and see what is most likely happening. If the sting on his thigh says anything, it’s definitely not sleep.

Oscar keys the door open and hesitantly steps inside. Lando follows right on his heels. The lights are off and he would probably think it was empty if it weren’t for the visible blob of blankets in the corner that’s sobbing violently. to close to hyperventilation for Lando’s liking. He takes immediate action and pulls her out of the blankets.

Immediately, he keeps her body from curling in on itself so her chest is open and can get air easier. Oscar manages to find a lamp switch. She’s a wreck. So incredibly broken that Lando doesn’t know where to start.

“Breathe.” Is all he can come up with. "It's okay, you can rest. We've got you. Just Breathe."

Somehow he coax’s her to sleep. Him and Oscar combined manage to get her to bed, wrestle her shoes off, and bandage what they could see without removing clothing.

Oscar practically forces Lando into the be with her and he takes the floor. He’d said he’d take the floor with him, but Oscar claimed that Lando is the lighter sleeper and would know if she moved at all. Curse his soulmate and his logical thinking.

She manages to sleep until five in the morning. This time she just cries and huddles closer into Lando.

“I’m sorry you have to see me in such a state… I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

Lando maneuvers then int a sitting position. He then takes a pillow and throw it at his lover on the floor. Oscar stirs and groans.

“Must you.”

“Yes, It’s funny.”

Oscar makes his way up onto the bed and looks immediately like he’s going to fall asleep. Lando consequently throws another pillow at him.

“You should know something…” Lando starts. He doesn’t finish because the word are not doing what he needs them to. They jumble on his head and he can’t figure out where to start.

He’s entirely to grateful for Oscars presence. “Max thinks that the three of us are soulmates.”

Lando was thinking it would be like the first. Realization followed by smiles and laughs. This is not that. Instead it’s panic. She defends into the depths of her mind as she studies the match scars, even revealing her own identical one.

The pain, embarrassment and shame are written all over her features. She’s mumbling through some kind of an apology.

“Breathe.” He repeats. He says it over and over again until it’s all her own mind can hear.

Oscar looks gutted and lost. He’d helped Lando through many panic attacks, but this is completely different.

“I didn’t think I would ever find you. The doctors had tried to cut me off because it was a mistake since there were two. They said I wasn’t supposed to have one.”

Are the two boys shocked? A tad. Why would a doctor do that?

Lando doesn’t get time to ask as she pulls out a bottle of medication from the drawer in the nightstand. It’s stuff he’s heard of, but never actually seen. “This has been suppressed to sever the connection, but it hasn’t worked. They said to take it in higher doses at smaller intervals until it stops.”

She pops open the lid and pours a couple into her hands. Thank goodness for quick reflexes because Lando goes to get the ones in her hands, and Oscar goes for the bottle. She's too focused on Lando to notice the Aussie who manages to swipe it from her.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Didn't feel relevant."

"But this is incredibly dangerous! I've heard most people who do it end up -" Oh. It dawns on him why she's doing this to herself. The connection between them was already rough for her. She had been trying to 'fix' it like her doctors said. Had been told her entire life that the people who are fated to lover her unconditionally won't because she is nothing to them.

"How long have you been taking the meds?" Oscar's voice is so careful. The Brit would love to swoon, but it feels impolite at the moment.

"Years. They've tried everything. Put me on different kinds and change the dosage."

"Thirteen?" Lando whisper asks. His voice was barely audible. The small nod from the female confirms it. That's when the first scars arrived.

Lando places his hands on either side of her teary face. "You are not a mistake. You have never been a mistake. We've been aching for you. Scared maybe one day there wouldn't be any more marks and the implications of it. I've wanted nothing more than to tell you for years that you are loved and wanted."

He didn't even notice his own tears. Everything is just so overwhelming at the moment. They came so unexpectedly that it almost startled him. Screw Oscar and his ability to be amazing emotional support. The hand on Lando's knee is the only thing keeping him grounded.

They don't let her go until Max comes to get her. She's flying to do some filming with him. Neither of the males want to let her go, so they don’t. They end up flying with her since McLaren hasn’t filled their schedules.

But then they don’t leave. They spend every moment possible reminding her she is loved. That they want her. That nothing between them is a mistake.

Soon the scars start to fade.

But have no fear, Lando is clumsy enough to make up for it.

[k4marina]

— vi. Secrets and the Moon || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: While things settle down secrets are unveiled and you and Daenerys have a conversation about the moon.

warnings: slight mentions of violence/death, grammar most likely, ngl it's a pretty tame chapter.

a/n: all dialouge in italics is Valyrian

series masterlist

5.2k wrd count

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif is mine]

The walls of scrolls and ancient texts nearly reached the top of the ceiling. The smell of wax and parchment lingered in the room. Sunlight poured down from the skylight window. I’d never seen the room before, not on any website or during the tour of the castle. We were practically underground, in a more older portion of Dragonstone that was most likely withered away in the future. Diamond-patterned shelves filled with scrolls lined the walls on each side with a set of ladders and landings for easy access. A row of tables sat in the middle of the room, a large candle lit chandelier hanging down at the center.

I found the room whilst exploring the lower portions of the castle. It seemed that this was where all the old Valyrian texts were stored after the Targaryen’s arrival and before the Doom. When I’d first entered my head started to spin just off of the sheer size of the place. When I opened the first few scrolls and saw the ancient writing I couldn’t help but thank my parents for teaching me Valyrian Glyphs as well as the modern written form. Suddenly all those hours sitting at the dinner table studying with my father after dinner wasn’t so bad. 

So far my search had been fruitless, every lead coming to a dead end. There was practically nothing about either magic being used to bring people back in time or any mythologies relating to my predicament. There were plenty of other scrolls that taught the reader how they can cast various different spells and pyrokinesis. There were even a few that explained how to hatch stone dragon eggs, without human sacrifices. 

I scoffed, pushing that one scroll in particular to the side. I’m sure Dany could have used this while she was in the Dothraki Sea. 

Hours went by while I poured over all sorts of scrolls, but I found nothing that could explain my sudden appearance or a way to go back. The candles were nearly melted by the time I’d stored away the last scroll and shut the door to the reference room. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t disappointed. I really thought that if I could find any leads about my situation then it would be on Dragonstone. 

I thought that in all of the texts the Targaryens brought over from Valyria at least one would have the answers I was looking for. But I was wrong. 

The Valyrians were the first to bound themselves with dragons using blood magic. During the Valyrian empire’s height magic was an integral part of their culture and history. There’s no telling what they couldn’t do. If only they were good at spreading their knowledge, just far enough to Volantis at least, then maybe the ancient empire wouldn’t be such a mystery. 

Daenerys sat in a closed off patio, staring off into the distance when I arrived for dinner. She was no longer in her signature dark Targaryen garb, but rather in a more simple and modest gown. Her hair was in her signature braids, but not as dramatic as usual. 

“What’s on your mind?” My question pulled her out of her thoughts, only now realizing that I was here.

“Nothing,” she half-smiles. “Just another long day. Come– sit. The food’s still warm.” She motions for me to sit, which I do. “I heard you were busy in the reference library again.” 

I sat, laying the cloth napkin on my lap. “Another bust,” a servant places a plate of food in front of the two of us before leaving. “Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of information, but none that I needed.” 

“Have you looked into other sources?” 

I sighed, reaching for the wine. “I already have. The Seven don’t really believe in whatever my situation is, and the Old Gods are mostly about nature; forest, rivers, stone.” The knife in my hands easily cut through the piece of meat on my plate. 

“What of the Old Gods of Valyria?” 

“They're just deities.” I placed my elbows on the table. “We still worship them beyond the Black Wall, but they also don’t provide any information. They’re just God’s you pray to, to keep traditions for some.” 

“So that’s it?” 

“I still have one person to ask, but she’s already gone to Volantis.” 

“Melisandre?” Daenerys frowns, “but she’s not coming back.” 

I shake my head. “She is. It’s her fate to die in Westeros. When she returns I’ll have to ask her before she takes the plunge.” 

Daenerys nods, slowly, understanding. There’s a moment of silence, the two of us busy eating before Daenerys asks me the important question that’d been lingering in the air since my arrival. 

“What will you do if you can’t go back?” 

I sit still, but then shrug. “Stay here, I guess. Don’t have any other option, do I?” I look away from her, staring off into the distance, the night sky glimmering. No matter how many times I see the stars, I’m always mesmerized. You can’t get a view like this in the modern world, the light pollution clouding the beautiful night sky. 

“I’ll probably explore around a bit.” 

“You won’t get married?” 

I paused, caught off guard. “I.. I don’t know.” I turned back to her. “I never thought of anything like that.” 

“Did you fancy anyone from your time?” 

“No,” I thought back. “Sure, I had a few crushes here and there, a boyfriend once, but nothing when I entered University, I was too focused on my studies than the opposite sex.” 

“Why? Are you trying to marry me off to some Lord to help your claim?” I teased. 

She playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m only asking. If you do end up staying here then I don’t want you to be alone.” 

“But I’m not alone.” I said. “I have you.” 

She smiled. “I know that. What I mean is that I want you to have someone close to you. Someone to grow old with and perhaps a few children with.” 

I mulled over her words. “We’ll see. But my main goal is to get you on that throne first.” 

“Would that be before or after we join the Army of the Dead?” She jests. 

“Boo, bad joke.” I smiled. 

The rest of our night went smoothly, the two of us opting to not talk about war plans or the futures but rather of our childhoods. She told me stories about growing up in Essos, one that wasn't in any textbook and I told her about the modern world. I still remember telling her about modern transportation and technology, her jaw smacking the ground. 

We dined till the late hours of the night, only calling a night after we’d drank all the wine in the room. My body slightly buzzed, the alcohol flowing through me. Something that I learned when I arrived here was that alcohol was less potent compared to the future. So while everyone else could get drunk with a few glasses, I was just lightly buzzed. 

But that buzz didn’t last long. I was immediately sobered when I saw that the door to my chambers was left open. I stared at the door, silently listening for any movements. I vividly remembered closing my door in the morning. Maybe it was an assassin? But that wouldn’t make any sense. If an assassin was hired he’d go straight for Daenerys, not me.

Carefully, I stepped closer to the door, trying to not make a sound and catch the intruder's attention. I peeked through the gap between the wall and door, but saw nothing. No man dressed in robes waiting for me with a knife in my hand. I slowly pushed the door open, thankful that it didn’t creek. 

The receiving room was empty, nothing out of its place. The bedroom was also, oddly, empty. I scanned the room for anything missing or changed, but the room was just as I had left it this morning. The only room that was left was the study. The door was slightly ajar and a faith wrestling could be heard. I took in a deep breath and pushed it open, expecting to see some man, but instead being met with a child. 

The kid, possibly around ten years old, rummaged through my drawers. She wore a simple, yet tethered, dress, her long hair tied back. Her hands stopped moving and her body stiffened as she’d been caught. I stared in disbelief, what the hell is this kid doing?

“What are you looking for?” My voice came out more rough than it should have, but I couldn’t care. Was this kid really going through my things? 

She didn’t reply, her eyes flickering back to the door behind me. I slammed the door shut, fully blocking any way out and asked again. “What are you doing?” 

She still didn’t reply, shaking in fear as if I’d kill her on the spot. She hid her hands behind her dress. I marched closer to her and she stepped back, her back almost hitting the wall. I reached out, grabbing her hands, surprising her. 

Scrolls that I’d written were clutched in her grasp, and in the small pockets of her dress. They ranged from menial things like day to day updates from either the Unsullied or Dothraki to sensitive subjects like Yara Greyjoy and her fleet's location or warplanes to take King’s Landing. 

I looked back at the child who seemed to be scared out of her mind, tears brimming her eyes. It was clear someone put her up to this. No child in their right mind would travel all the way up into the castle, know where my room and study were, and rummage through my stuff.

“Who set you up to this?” I lowered my tone, trying to seem less frightening. The child's eyes were a light gray with hints of lavender. Her hair was a light blonde and freckles danced around her face. By the looks of it she was either a Dragonseed or the descendant of one. 

“I’m not mad,” this time I tried in Valyrian. “I just want to know who told you to do this.” 

Her exterior flattered for a moment, but it wasn’t enough to calm her nerves. I sighed, crouching down so that I was eye level to her. “I won’t hurt you, I promise. And I won’t let anyone hurt you or your family. All you have to do is tell me who told you to do this.” 

She hesitates, and my grip on her hand loosen. I absentmindedly rubbed small circles around her wrists as a way to calm her. 

“The..” she stopped, scared that someone would hear, but I gave her hand a light squeeze, reassuring her. “The bald man. He said if I found him a special letter then he’ll bring me to my mother and father.” 

The bald man? Does she mean THE bald man?

“Do you mean the bald man that is with Queen Daenerys?” 

She nods. 

Fucking snake. 

She seems to notice that shift in my mood and quivers. I catch myself before I worsen my mood. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Alana.” 

I smiled, “what a beautiful name.” I stood up, reaching into the middle drawer that she didn’t go through and grabbed a tied handkerchief. I knelt down next to her and untied it revealing a few cookies and bit’s of chocolate. Her eyes lit up and she looked between the sweet treats and me.

“Here, you can have all of this, if you promise to not say a word, okay? You can’t tell anyone that I saw you tonight, especially the bald man.” 

She nods her head, eager to eat the cookies. 

“But, you have to do one teeny-tiny thing for me.” She looks up at me with her doe eyes. “You have to tell the Queen what you told me.” 

Panic, once again, sets in and she rapidly shakes her head. “No, she’ll-” 

“She won’t do anything,” I place my hand on her shoulder. “Her Grace doesn’t hurt children. She’ll protect you from the bald man. Both her and her dragons.” 

It took some convincing but she’d finally agreed. I placed her on my bed with the snacks and lit a few candles. I called for an Unsullied guard to go get Daenerys while I waited with her. 

“You said that the bald man would take you to your parents, where did they go?” 

She chews on a piece of chocolate and swallows. “They were taken by the man with the stag. He was bald too. He also had a daughter.” 

Stag, bald, and had a daughter. 

“Stannis.” I hummed. Knowing him, I’m sure that he’d executed them. Most of the villagers on the island are some form of Dragonseeds, bastards of the Targaryens and most definitely still loyal to them. It’s most likely that Alana’s parents had refused to bow to either Robert or to serve Stannis during his stint on Dragonstone and were killed as a result. 

The doors to my room opened and Daenerys, who was dressed in a robe and looked to have been pulled out of bed, walked in. “Did something happen?”  

I nod and stand up. Alana peeks at Daenerys from behind me, but quickly hides when they make eye contact. 

“I found her going through my things. Apparently, a friend of ours sent her to find something.” 

Daenerys looks between me and the little girl. “Who?” 

I turned back to Alana. “Sweetheart, why don’t you tell Her Grace what you told me, don’t worry, she won’t be mad at you.” 

The little girl holds her hands closer to her. “The bald man. He told me to look through the ladies' things.” 

“The bald man?” Daenerys repeats. She turns back to me. “Varys?” 

I nodded. “Seems like he’s interested in what I’ve been up to.”

Anger quickly takes over Daenerys and she turns to march down to his chambers. I grab her arm, “no wait.” 

“Wait?” She scoffed. “Varys is spying on my own people. He’s using children to do his dirty work and you want me to wait?” 

“Yes, I do. Dany, we can’t nail him yet.” 

She frowned. “Then what? We pretend that nothing’s happened?” 

“That’s exactly what we do. He doesn't know what we know now, we can use that to our advantage.” 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Let him believe what he wants to. All we have to do is feed him the information that we want and take the information we need from him.” 

“And you are sure this will work?” 

I nodded. “Let the spider think that he’s spun his web, it’s only a matter of time before he gets too confident and makes a mistake.”

––

The next morning, after my morning sparring practice and breakfast with Daenerys, I was called down to the caves by Jon Snow. He and his men had made considerable progress mining the Dragonglass. Crates of the volcanic glass were placed around the path leading to the caves. The sound of pickaxes and chisels hammering against the cave walls echoed out from the cave entrance. 

Jon Snow stood by a few crates of what I assumed was freshly mined Dragonglass. He wore his usual attire; dark tunic underneath his black and brown leather armor, long black leather gloves and matching boots with dark trousers that had some wear and tear. He’d foregone his fur cloak and armored breastplate with House Stark sigil for the sake of practicality. 

Ser Davos, who stood in front of Jon, nodded my ways. He turned as I stepped closer, and their previous conversation came to a halt. 

“My Lady, thank you for coming.” 

I glanced around us. “You and your men seem to be making quite a bit of progress.” 

Jon nods, “we’re grateful that you and Queen Daenerys have allowed us to mine all of the Dragonglass.” 

“That’s not why you called for me is it?” 

“No.” He motions for me to follow him. We walk around a few crates, coming to a stop in front of a covered wagon, hidden from everyone. 

“We found these, deep in the caves. I’ve told my men who first found them to keep quiet about it.” 

Ser Davos opens the wagon’s doors and removes the cloth over the objects revealing a cluster of dulled dragon eggs. My eyes widened and I turned to Jon who also had the same shock written all over his face. 

“Is this all you’ve found?” 

“So far. We found these near the end of the cave before it split off into other directions.” 

I slowly nod, half focused on his words. My eyes ran over the eggs, five to be exact, all of them covered in dirt and stone. There were two lighter colored eggs, a white-gray and a pastel pink-purple. The other three were a dark navy blue, a dark green, and a pure black egg. I reached out and carefully grabbed the green egg, wiping away the dirt and debris the best I could. It left off a gold almost iridescent shimmer in the sun. The eggs themselves were hard, the outside covered in a scaled pattern. I gently turned the egg over in my hands, running my fingers over the surface.

I took in a deep breath, stunned. 

After Daenerys’ death, Dragonstone was handed off to The Crown. Over the decades, the castle had been turned into somewhat of a vacation home for the Royal Family. The Velaryon’s had contested the decision for many years, claiming that the castle was the last remnants of the Targaryen and of Valyria and that it should be preserved and handed to them as they were the closest to the extinct house. But in reality, they were more interested in exploring the castle than honoring it. 

They’d found Dragonegg’s littered all over the island, nestled away in the string of cave networks. Dragon bones and skulls dating back to the dragons the Targaryens first brought to the islands were also found in caves in the island's volcanic mountains. By the time the eggs were found they’d been completely fossilized and turned to stone. Taking inspiration from Daenerys, the Velaryons tried to hatch the dragons in secret, but lacked the (for a lack of better words) magic that the Targaryens held. 

But this, this was something else. 

I turned to Jon, who’d been watching me, “thank you.” He slightly bows his head, surprised by my sincerity. “Did you find anything else?”

“No, My Lady, that’s all we’ve run across.” 

I pressed my lips and nods, looking back down at the eggs. “Alright. Keep mining, but don’t go too deep.” I set the dragon egg back down, “now help me get these to Daenerys.” 

––

The five eggs, now properly cleaned of any dirt, sat in a chest between Daenerys and I. Her eyes stayed glued to the eggs as Jon recounted what he’d told me. But, like me, her focus was entirely on the eggs. She dismisses him, leaving the two of us. Silence hangs in the air for many moments, neither of us knowing what to say.

“Did you know that there were eggs on the island?” She finally asks. 

“I did,” I sat back, eyes flickering between the chest and her. “But I didn’t know where exactly they were. I just never knew that they were just.. right there.”

She hums. “They look like they’re turned to stone.” 

“We can still bring them back.” 

“Where would we keep them?” 

I shrugged. “I’m sure there's a few warming brazier’s laying around. We can chuck them in there while we deal with the Night King.” 

She looks up at me, “are you sure we can hatch them?” 

“Yeah, why not? Just need some good-old fashioned Valyrian blood magic.” 

Daenerys chuckles. “Alright, I’ll tell the servants to light a few warmers.” 

She stands from her seat, walking over and grabbing the dark blue dragon egg, turning it over in her hands. 

“How many of these are there?” She muttered. 

“Plenty,” I replied, standing up myself. “The entire island is littered with them.” 

“What?” 

I pour a glass of wine. “The caves under the island are almost littered with them. Some of them are in the caves up in the mountains.” 

I motioned her towards the window that faced mountains. “Jaehaerys’ dragon, Vermithor, used to dwell in a cave on that mountain. It’s said that he laid a clutch of eggs in there, but by the time we found them they were completely stone.” 

Daenerys steps forwards and peers out the window to the large mountain in the distance. “If the Dragonegg’s were here all along, then why did they die out?” 

I shrugged “Hell if I know.” I take a sip of the wine, leaning on the windowsill. “It’s rumored that after Rhaenyra’s death that the Targaryen's love and bond with the dragons was bruised, I guess you can say. People believe that the closer the dragons are to their riders, the stronger the magic. But after a civil war where the dragons pitted against each other and other riders, I guess the magic fizzled out.” 

“Well, that’s until you came around,” I motioned towards Dany with my glass. 

She stared off to where Vermithor’s cave was. “So many mistakes,” she muttered. “They made so many mistakes and it cost our house everything.”

“But you won’t do the same thing.” I said. 

She turned to me, determined. “No, I won’t.” 

––

The walls are jagged and raw, a clear contrast to the smooth walls of the castle. It’s dim, squinting my eyes to try and adjust to the lack of light. My footsteps echoed off of the walls. 

One, two, three, four… and five.

He lay on the cold ground on top of a sad looking chunk of hay that looked as if it was on its last legs. He’s wearing the same trousers and dirty tunic as he was when he was brought here. His chest has a slight rise and fall indicating he’s alive. His face caked in blood and dirt, making me grimace. 

“Wake up.” 

He doesn’t move, eyes still closed. Annoyed, I reach over to a bucket on the side of the entrance of his cell, grabbing a cup full of water. I splashed it on him through the cell doors. 

“I said, wake up.” 

He gasps, coughing and sits up straight, surprised. His head snaps over in my direction, eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t make any effort to move out of the shadows and into the dim light. 

“You bitch!” 

I drag a chair over in front of the cell bars, crossing my legs as I sit. “That’s no way to address a Lady.” 

He scoffs. “Y’er the furthest thing from a Lady,” he licks his chapped lips. “But you’ve got a pretty face like one. Maybe once your Dragon Queen agrees to my offer I’ll fuck you both” 

I narrow my eyes, but bite my tongue. “And you really think that she’ll take you as, what did you say? A King?”

“I am a King!” He growls. 

“Any man who must say ‘I am the King’ is no true King.” I quote Tywin Lannister. 

“I am the King of Salt and Rock.” He brings his face closer to me into the light. 

“Your niece and nephew would argue otherwise.” I glare down at Euron. 

“That bitch and her cock-less brother? They’re nothing. I’ll kill them just like I killed their father.” 

“That ‘bitch’ is on her way to reclaim the Iron Islands, and her ‘cock-less brother’ handed you your own ass, landing you here, in a dungeon.” 

“She won’t make it.” He double downs. “The Ironborn don't follow women.” 

“We’ll see.” I lean in closer, eyeing him through the bars. “It’s a new dawn. Two Queens are fighting for the Iron Throne, most of Westeros’ noble houses are led by women. I think the Iron Islands won’t mind a woman leading them.” 

Euron pushes himself against the wall. “Won’t last long. They’ll get tired of her and crave for their true king.” 

I leaned forwards. “That awfully confident of you considering your predicament. It’s almost like you have something under your sleeve.” His demeanor shifts, a wave of arrogance and cockiness falling over him. 

He smirks. “Y’wanna know? Hm?” He runs his beady eyes down my figure and I tried not to shiver out of disgust. “Why don’t you do me a favor and I’ll tell you.” 

“Really?” I played along. “And why would I do that? Not to be too mean, but you don’t seem to be the type to be strategic, just dumb luck.” 

His eye twitches at my comment. He leans forwards, a crazed look in his eyes, as if he’d just hit the jackpot. “Cause it’s the one thing that will make your dragons mine.” 

Gotcha. 

“Let me guess, a Dragonbinder?” 

His face falls, shocked that I already knew about his “trump card” that not even Cersei knew about. His mouth falls open, but no words come out. 

“What? Cat got your tongue? You were pretty chatty before, what happened?” 

He recovers well, becoming more hostile. “Knowing about it won’t change a thing. I’ll get out of here and when I do, I’ll kill you and everyone in this fucking castle and feed you to your own fucking dragons!” 

I stare at him momentarily before smiling. “I’ll count on it.” I stand, getting ready to leave. “You’ve lost, Euron. I look forward to your coming execution. Sleep well till then.” 

––

“Are you sure?” Daenerys asks, tethering between skepticism and fear.

I nodded. “I didn’t believe it either. From what I had heard it was purely a rumor, but he just confirmed for me.”

“A Dragonbinder?” Missandei raised a brow. “I don’t seem to be familiar with that item.” 

“You shouldn’t be.” I said. “It’s something like an ancient relic of Old Valyria. It’s a horn made of an enormous dragonbone and is six feet long. It’s said that whoever blows into it will have the power to control dragons, but I’ve never seen it before nor have I known anyone to have ever seen it, let alone have it in their possession.”

“And you believe Euron is hiding it somewhere?” Varys asks, hand folded in his lap.

“It’s alleged when he went to claim the Seastone Chair he presented the horn to impress his followers. How much of it is true is beyond me, but I think this is something we should keep a close eye on.”

“Has it ever been used?” Dany asks. 

“I don’t know. I’ve checked the reference library and found nothing.” 

“So the horn’s a sham?” Varys says. 

“We don’t know that,” I frowned. “A threat is a threat, regardless if it’s been documented or not.” I turned back to Dany. “Look, I’m telling you all I know. There’s possibly a Dragonbinder out there and it could turn your children against you.” 

Daenerys sighs, deep in thought. On one hand this could be a plausible threat. History has proven that anything that remains from Valyria could have the power to cause tremendous change while on the other hand, no one really knows if it exists and if it’s an actual threat to anyone. 

“If what you say is the truth then that means Euron and his men have a powerful weapon against me and my children. However, no one, but one man, knows where it is and we don’t know if it’s an actual threat or not. For now, we focus on the task at hand, Euron and the Dragonbinder can wait.” 

I nod, understanding. “Whatever you say, Your Grace.” 

––

The stars shone bright in the night sky, not a cloud in sight. The moon glimmered brightly, a perfect reflection in the deep ocean. It was one of those nights where everything was still, as if time had stopped. There was no sound, no wind, nothing, just pure silence. 

I took in a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and leaned against the stone railing. My eyes trailed from the sky to the ocean, the beach, and then the cave entrance. Wagons and crates were left around along with what looked to be mining equipment. It wouldn’t be long until all of the Dragonglass would be mined away and then we’ll be marching North to face off against the Night King. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting you,” a voice called from behind. I turned around to see Daenerys walking closer to me. 

“No, you’re not.” I smiled. “It’s pretty late, shouldn’t you be asleep?” 

“I could ask you the same.” 

I turned back to stare off in front of me, “couldn’t sleep. Thought I would be able to after some fresh air, but the sleepiness hasn’t kicked in yet.” 

She comes to stand besides me, a comfortable silence falling over us. I looked back down at the cave entrance. 

“Since I’ve came here I've been debating whether the Gods are cruel or kind.” I let out a sigh. “On one hand, they’ve taken me from my friends, family, my home. The other, I’ve been given the opportunity to rewrite history, and right the wrongs of mankind.” I let out a humorless laugh and turned towards Dany. “But regardless of what’s happened, I’m glad I’m here to help you and make sure you don’t go through this alone.” 

She reached over to grasp my hand, reassuringly. I smiled, “whatever happens from here on out, I want you to know that. I love you, sister.”

Tears brimmed her eyes and she smiled. “I love you too. I pray that when this is over you can find a way back to your family.” 

“But you’d be all alone.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” She smiled bittersweet. “I’ve lost my family, I know the pain. I can’t have you going through that.” 

I swallowed thickly, looking up and blinked away my tears. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the moon, above. 

I cleared my throat, “when I was a child, I visited my Ñāma, um my Grandmother, in Volantis. One night, when the sky was like this she told me a story about two sisters. The younger one was very sick and couldn’t be out during the day so she and her elder sister would go out at night, making sure not to go too far off from home. And every night, under the shade of a large tree, the elder sister would sing a lullaby to her little sister about the moon. And every night, the younger sister would say ‘The sun is for everyone, but we have the moon,’ and she’d fall asleep with a smile. One night, just like any other, the two sisters go out and the eldest sings a lullaby, except this time, the younger one never opens her eyes and passes in her sleep. And for the rest of her life, the eldest sister, before going to bed, would sing a lullaby to the moon, hoping it would reach her sister, because they always had the moon.” 

At this point tears were streaming down both of our faces, and I tried my best not to start crying. “Daenerys, wherever we are, we’ll always have the moon.” 

We both burst into tears, pulling each other into a tight embrace, crying in each other's arms under the glimmering moon.

so i've recently composed a "soundtrack" for this series (i put soundtrack in "" bc it's more like a medley) i'm thinking abt working on it while i work on this series, but lmk if u all want to hear it when it's complete or when i've given up.

ALSO!! since we're approaching the height of series (and the end) what should my next game of thrones/asoiaf series be?

TAGLIST:

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia @llynx7 @pookynknowntranger @riley-625-bell @myathegoat

[blacktabbygames]

Idk how to make a big report on switch so uhhh… Ive been trying on 3 separate reboots to get ‘Moment of Clarity’ princess but the frame freezes every time and locks me out so I have to close the game. It’s spesfically the frame after she reaches out her hand and she’s faceless.

Also after the third try closing out my game will NOT load or open. Idk if it’s related. But yeah it’s just been at like 95% load bar for like an hour. :(

I’m a bit bummed bc MOC was my last princess before Shifting Mound and I was excited to see the new princess dialouges she’ll give me :/

Obviously not a big deal and you have other concerns going on. But I thought I’d tell you? As a bug report. Mostly cause I’d like to finish my run tbh

Anyway love the game <3

Assuming this is on switch? Working on a patch right now. For the time being, you should be able to avoid any slowdowns by toggling off flickering images for the route.

[thelemoncoffee]

just realize how load bearing the sentence "cause i'm a liar" is to Kokichi's whole character

if you took that sentence out of his dialouge, his entier character would implode. it's like that one random png every other game has that if you remove it from the files the game stops working

you probably think "well no duh" but it's deeper for the character than it sounds.

it's one of the first things he tells you directly, and just the fact that he's the one who says it is a paradox. the liar tells you he's a liar, but the liar lies so is he lying about being a liar? but that would make him a liar right?

that one line is the whole reason the other characters are hostile to him before he even does anything worth getting mad over. he said he's a liar in his introduction, and that will be the first and last thing that he tells them about himself the rest of the cast will truely believe to the end. throughout the game we then see him tell mostly nonsense harmless lies, reminding us after each one that it's okay because he's a lair and nothing that come from his mouth is to be trusted, but when the time comes for the ugly truth to be said- he's the one who delevers it.

he claims to be a liar, makes himself out to be a a liar and bad person with confusing lies that are basically net zero information when you actually think about them, then uses that to lessen the blow when he delevers the truth no one wants to hear- so if they don't want to accept it he can be their plausable deniablity. without the "cause i'm a liar" line none of this could actually work, without him reminding everyone every other minute that "i'm a liar, source: trust me bro" this his whole purpose in the game becomes near impossible to pull off, at least in the way he does in canon.

they might see him as a bad person, or suspect him to be dishonest, but i don't think they'd be able to handle the truth bombs he drops or even fall for his plan without their assurance that he's untrustworth because "after all, he's a liar". sure they could figure out he's lying on their own, but not everyone would come to that conclusion. they'd all be devided on how much they'd be able to trust him, and none would get to be able to let the truths he spits roll off their backs- they'd linger and eat away at their minds.

he would actually be pretty intimidating i think if he acted the exact same way but never called himself a liar at any point. he's this unsettlingly childish guy who talks about world domination casually over tea, and then turns around with a blank expression in a trial and forces you to face the upsetting truth you've been trying to avoid. it'd create a stronger tonal whiplash than he already does in canon, with no saftybars for them to reorintate themselves with.

he's still doing it for the same reasons as canon but the characters around him are having very different and somtimes visceral reactions to his behavior

he'd end up becoming a bit of a truth harbanger in a way

[codenamethebird]

More Hades 2 rambles from me! Though this time round it's a continuation of a point I made in this post.

Specifically, that I think the final boss of the Surface will be a living human mortal.

A couple people on that post disagreed that it would be a human, mostly just because of boss fight mechanics. Which I do get, but this is my not so little refute of that idea (all in good fun of course, I very well might be wrong! I just have thought a bunch about it since then and wanted to ramble about it).

I'll be getting into later how the game could have a hard mechanically satisfying human final boss later, because first I want to talk about how it would make sense naratively. Not because anyone remotely argued this point, I just think it's interesting haha.

So let's go back for a moment to Hades 1, and it's final boss, Hades himself. On a mechanical sense, it makes total sense, Hades is the god and master of the underworld Zag is trying to escape. He would be the final obstacle. But what really makes Hades work as the final boss, is the story and emotional reason he's there.

The plot of Hades is ultimately about Zag's messy relationship with his dad. And that final boss fight is an ongoing conversation with him. While irl you and your questionable dad constantly fighting to death is not a great way to fix your problems, these are weird bound to underworld greek gods. Death is their weird love language for like half this cast haha. There is a reason Death is one of, if not the main love interest.

Okay now that I've established that, let's look at the one final boss we do know from Hades 2, Chronos. Now it's Grandpa's time to shine. Unlike Hades 1, he fits a lot cleaner into a more traditional villian role. The monster who literally takes over your house and takes your family hostage.

In that way, it is a personal fight for Mel to save her family, but Mel lacks a specific personal connection to Chronos himself. Obviously there's the whole Grandpa thing, but she wasn't like raised by him or anything. He is a convient big bad she can hate simply and wholeheartedly. While he does try to challenge her beliefs at times, Mel will never listen to him because of the whole family kidnapping thing, and Gramps equally doesn't want to engage with her either. He just wants to be a dick to her.

While I'm a firm believer in the "We (the gods) are actually the bad guys" theory, I don't think Chronos is secretly an angel. He did you know eat his kids and that entire scene with Hades and him just reeked of shitty dad vibes. While Chronos might be better for humanity, I think he really is using them as a prop and doesn't genuinely care about them. (This is a derail, but I do think the human army side of things including Prometheus will turn on Chronos at some point. Specifcally that they are already planning to).

But yes, basically, while I adore Chronos as a villain, you get none of the character growth from either party that you got between Zag and Hades in the first game. Obviously, we are still in early access, so there's more dialouge to be had. But from what we have seen, those two are not changing the other. So this is my roundabout way to say that must mean the Surface boss is the one that is going to be all about Melinoe's character growth.

I don't think I need to explain why fighting a human would be a fascinating place for character growth for humanities #1 hater Melinoe. Mel's the Hades equivalent in this game (not the Zag), who will not listen to anyone who disagrees with her. Getting beat up by a human might actually start to get it through her head.

But also I want to dig into why I don't think the final boss will be another Titan. I've seen Atlas thrown around a bunch as a possible final Surface boss. Also Typhon... I'm certain there are others. But I don't know what they would add to the narrative, especially as a final boss? I think there's more evidence for Atlas, so I'll focus on him.

It would make some sense, he was the leader of the titan rebellion and much like Prometheus, in certain versions of the myth he was also freed from his punishment by Heracles! Which considering Heracles suspicious lack of dialouge so far, and the dialouge he does have being a god hater, I do think he's the one who freed Prometheus in this game.

But other than those connections, what does Atlas add to make him an interesting antagonist to Mel? He's not particularly tied to humanity, and while his punishment sucked he did lead a rebellion against the gods (and traditionally the reasons have nothing to do with humans).

Mostly, in my opinion, if the game was going to have a titan also be the final boss for the Surface, it wouldn't be Atlas. It would be Prometheus. He's the powerful titan who has a legitimate gruge against the gods and who can engage with Mel in interesting ways, challenging her stance against the gods. But they have already used Prometheus, I don't know how they could write Atlas (or whatever titan/god) in a way that would be more interesting than Prometheus, and rival the Hades boss fight for thematic weight. Also, it would be 2 titans in a row, which isn't nessisarily a bad thing, but still.

I've also seen people throw around it might he Ares, which I will admit would I would be way more excited for that another titan. Theres some interesting ideas to be had with an Olympian who has betrayed the gods. But we already have dialouge with Athena where she says how Chronos' armies motivations wouldn't line up with Ares'. And I feel like going from a dude only obsessed with war to someone fighting for some kind of higher cause would be a jump in character. Not impossible, but a little weird.

And ultimately, I just think that a Human would serve the purpose better as an antagonist to Mel who would shake her worldview on living mortals in particular. A fight with Ares would mess with her relationship with the gods, but not as clearly with humans.

Okay now that I've talked about themes, how about what people actually had an issue with lol, how would a final boss with a human make sense from a boss fight perspective. I have three main ideas, that don't really contradict each other and could all exist in the fight.

1st idea: multiple enemies. We've heard that there are human armies, the final boss could possibly be a leader of them. We could have hords of enemies, could have select recognizable commanders that have different skill sets, etc. None of the Surface boss fights have multi bosses in them (they have random mobs but none like the sirens or Theseus and Asterius), so I don't think it would be strange to have it. And while stretching the definition of a human boss a bit, these other bosses could be ghosts and other kinds of beings (I just think the main boss should be a breathing human).

2nd idea and tbh my main one. Have them be a Witch! Or some other kind of magic user. I feel like this should be obvious, but a lot of the theming around Hades 2 is witchy/magic stuff and it's wild we don't have a major witch enemy yet (other than obviously Hecate, but for obvious reasons I don't count her).

I'm thinking some kind of High Priestess of Chronos kind of character, we still don't know exactly how Chronos was revived and this could tie in, but there's a bunch of ways you could spin a magic user! I think it would be a prime place to put a narrative foil to Melinoe. A fellow Witch whose family was stolen away by the gods who is looking for justice. Maybe when finally looking into a mirror, some of the stuff Melinoe's been told will finally breach her thick headed skull haha.

I don't think I really need to get into the technical about how a witch fight could be cool. But one idea, tying into my first point, a magic user could have mind powers and compell powerful beings to fight for them. This could be the Zag boss fight of borderline crack theories or even maybe the aforementioned Ares who maybe got captured during his war path. A magic fight doesn't need possessed enemies, but it could be cool.

And finally, my 3rd idea. You might be going, but how could a human be more powerful than Prometheus? Well first point magic, but more seriously, just have them be boosted by Chronos and/or other allies. I mentioned a theory about a high priestess sort of character (the power of God and ani--), but more specifically, if they do go the route of a foil to Melinoe, she has her boons from the gods. Much like Theseus in Hades 1, the final surface boss could gain the boons of Chronos/Prometheus/and the like. Maybe even a Chaos boon, they have already aided Chronos once, and there's a decent chance the humans might betray Chronos at some point so Chaos might be chill with them. This could also be a way to introduce more titan characters and the like without needing to make models for them haha.

But yes, tldr, magic human gives us both the thematic weight of it being a human, witch stuff to parallel Melinoe, and just cool powerful magic fight as a final boss (and it could parallel the Hecate boss fight, the first boss u fight and the last being magic based).