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#his niece is safe but practically speaking
matan4il · 15 days
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Daily update post:
Israel has been preparing for the possibility of a direct strike from Iran. To that end, the IDF has been initiating GPS jamming, first in the south, and now in central Israel as well. On a personal note, I had to calm my mom down today (I could do this thanks to having heard about it on the news already), because it's a scary thing for people, and they don't know what to think, when they open Waze and find themselves "appearing" in enemy territory. Iran's attack options might also include drone attacks, or anti-Jewish terrorist attacks around the world. We've heard about Esther and Mordechai's Tomb being attacked tonight in Iran itself.
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Speaking of the country that's the biggest funder of terrorism globally, tomorrow it's "Al-Quds Day" (Jerusalem Day) in Iran. It was established in 1979, after the Islamist revolution, as an antisemitic political measure, meant to help radicalize people against the Jewish state. Officially, it's a protest of Israel's sovereignity in Jerusalem, the city which has been the capital of the Jewish people, the place we pray to, for over 3,000 years, longer than Islam has existed. Some people worry that Iran will use this date specifically to strike against Israel or other Jewish targets around the world.
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With or without connection, the chief of Israel's army intelligence is quoted as saying in private conversations, "I have told you time and time again that it is not certain that the worst is behind us and we are ahead of complex days."
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Back in February, we heard that the niece of Hamas' overall leader, Ismail Haniyeh, gave birth in an Israeli hospital, and her baby, which was born prematurely, was treated in an Israeli hospital's NICU, the same hospital that had to have millions of shekels spent on, in order to make parts of it safe during Hamas' rocket attacks. While at it, we were reminded that several of Haniyeh's sisters live in Israel after marrying Israeli Bedouins, and that a few more of his relatives were allowed from Gaza into Israel for medical treatment. Just a small reminder that Haniyeh's personal wealth is estimated to be somewhere between 4 to 5 billion dollars (Taylor Swift's is only a little over 1 billion dollars), and if he wanted to, he could have flown his entire family out of there, to join him in Qatar, with the best facilities and care, rather than get medical care at a hospital subsidized by the "genocidal Zionist enemy."
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Now we get the news that one of Haniyeh's sisters, a 57 years old woman, has been arrested for helping Hamas, including support for the Oct 7 massacre.
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This is 34 years old Lidor Levi.
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He was critically injured in the Palestinian terrorist attack in Gan Yavne. He was in a hospital, fighting for his life for 4 days. Today we got the news that he succumbed to his wounds. He leaves a pregnant wife and a daughter behind. May his memory be a blessing.
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I will never understand how the accidental killing of 7 civilians in Gaza is making more headlines, and causes more rage, than the on going and intentional killing of so many Israeli civilians targeted in terrorist attacks along this entire war. I can't remember the world even addressing it, let alone raging about how unacceptable these killings are, and how they're proof that Palestinian terrorist organizations must be stopped. For that matter, I haven't come across anywhere as many headlines and world leaders' statements about an intentional drone attack that killed several rescue workers in Kharkiv, where a residential area was targeted. The hyperfocus on the one conflict where Jews can be demonized, is also leaving a lot less attention for, practical aid, and just general caring about other conflicts, which are in many ways far worse (just look at Tigray alone on the below map). It's harmful to so many more people than we come close to realizing.
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(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
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shelbgrey · 9 months
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Dating Dean Winchester Headcanons:
Paring: Dean winchester x Singer!Reader
Summary: just some headcanons about Dean dating Bobby Singer's niece. -NSFW content warring.
A/n: the winner of the latest poll, there will be a new one up next week. I was so excited and suprised on how many people did the poll, my first one only had six and the latest one had over 100.
❤️Mood board ❤️MasterList
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Being Dean's girlfriend isn't always easy, but you get through it. So let's talk about it.
There was always something between you guys, but with your choice of life there was always something in the way.
You two practically grew up together, with Bobby being your uncle and John being his father you two were always around each other.
I think Dean also had a slight fear of Bobby, you were his niece and your practly his daughter.
Bobby wasn't clueless, he saw the way you two looked at each other. He wanted to kick Dean's teeth out, he's extremely over protective. Bobby also knew if anyone would keep you safe it wold be Dean.
“I know you'll take care of her”
On a side note, Bobby refuse to call you 'idjit'
The last thing he's said before he died was, “take care of my girl.. You idjits”
Anyway, Even if you two kept denying it or if your just clueless, everyone would know.
Other than Sam and Cas, your the only one he 100% trusts you. He'd trusts you with his life and your his partner in crime.
What makes your relationship stronger is that you started off as best friends and allies.
You always thought you were losing him, he would always have one night stands and there was Lisa. Of course they ment nothing to him, he just thought he'd never be good enough for you.
He thought you deserved better. “I'm not what you need...you deserve better”
That was the first time you opened your heart out to him, but he put his walls up. The he pretended like nothing happened... Until you went on one particularly hard hunt.
Everything was happing so fast thst neither one of you remember that night. There was blood everywhere and Dean did everything he could to save you, Castile healed you and Dean confessed something he's been wanting to since he was 18.
“I love you... Please don't leave me, I can't lose you”
Since everything moves fast in your lives you both decided to take things slow. Dispite his rugged appearance he's nothing but a gentleman to you.
He's extremely over protective of you, to the point hunts with him got annoying.
“I'm not some damsley in distress, Dean!”
He knows what a badass you are and he knows you can hold your own, but he can't help but be your shield.
That's really the only times you fight, your both very reckless and laugh in the face of danger. You guys stress each other out on hunts.
But, lets get to the good stuff now.
Your the only other person who can drive the impala, you'd rather just have him driving with you setting with him.
You guys love the same music, so your always singing on the top of your longs to old rock songs. Your guys song is Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band.
You always have to be sleeping next to each other to get a goods night rest, even when you weren't together you two shared a bed in the old motels.
Dean refuses to sleep unless you have fallen asleep first, he just needs to know your okay before he can have a good night sleep.
You bake the best pies in his opinion and Sam loves your homemade salsa.
When you guys moved into the bunker you guys made great use of the kitchen, Sam loves your guys cooking.
Speaking of Sam, he's one of your best friends. Cas is your first, but you and Sam have a long history together. You were even the first one to hear he got accepted into college.
We know Cas is like the Winchesters gardian angel, well Gabriel is yours.
About three years into yours and Dean's relationship you broke up, it was around the time Sam went to hell and you guys just pushed each other away.
Gabe knew you guys loved each other, so he worked really hard to get you back together. He did succeed.
You guys might argue about the little things, but he always know how to make them better.
You guys just like staying in and watching movies or Scooby-Doo. You guys love cuddling up in the Dean cave and just ignore the world for a few hours.
He loves cuddles, if your in bed or on the couch he needs to be holding you. He loves it when he's laying in bed and your lying on top of his chest.
He also loves it when you hold him, maybe after a rough hunt he'll love just rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair.
You love just being in his arms, there's no feeling better than that. He loves snaking his arms around you and resting his chin on your head because he just really needs to being close to you.
He's really just a big ol' teddy bear.
He's a rough kisser, he's way taller than you so usually he hold your chin between his fingers and lift for head up to kiss you.
There's a lot of neck and forehead kisses being handed out by this man. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and just trail soft kisses down your neck.
He also loves it when you kiss his forehead. It just a small, loving gesture he absolutely loves.
If your cold you'll steal his flannels or his jackets, he had this black and red flannel that he now only sees if your wearing it.
when ever your busy doing research Dean always deliver a tiny kiss on your forehead. He'd just be walking by and he'll give you a quick kiss just to make you blush.
He's good a making you blush, he thinks it's adorable.
Trust is a big part of your relationship, you both had opened up about the abuse your fathers and dumped on you. That was the reason Bobby took you in, he could bare you being in the type of environment he grew up in.
With that Dean made a promise to never hurt or scare you. He refuses to lay a hurtful hand on you. It'll break his heart if you flinch away from him during an argument.
As much as you love Dean, demon Dean scares the hell out of you. The demon knew this and used it to his advantage. He Dean went back to normal he could barely look into your eyes. He blamed himself for the bruises around your neck the demon caused.
“I promised you I'd never hurt you... I'm so sorry” he said. “it's not your fault”
On a more positive side... You guys have lots of nicknames. You call him Deano or bub and he calls you just about anything but your actual name, Sweetheart is your favorite.
And with FBI names, you take a different approach. While he uses rock aliases you use actor or fictional names.
“agent Sweets, really?” he said playfully. “What? I like the show Bones”
Your like a mother to Claire, she loves you so much and your the only person she trusts other than Jody and the boys.
Speaking of Jody, she took you under her wing immediately. You never had a mother growing up so it was a relief to have her in your life.
You become a mother to Jack too, and your relationship hit a really bumpy road during that time. You hated how Dean treated Jack and it always turned into a fight.
“if you touch him, I swear to God, Dean!”
Den didn't want to be like his father and after awhile Dean's shell broke and he started to grow a soft spot for him, after your lives calmed down you both did end up adopting Jack.
But to legally do that you had to get married. You both wanted to get married so bad, but with your lives you never got the chance.
You weren't gonna get a white wedding, you knew that and Dean thought the Cort house wasn't good enough. So you got married in the church of Elvis in Las Vegas.
NSFW headcanons:
Dean prefers being on top and being the one in control.
He'll mark your thighs with his teeth and biting hard enough to leave a light bruise.
Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.
Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his hair or he'll tangel his fingers in yours and tug on it when he's getting head or about ready to cum.
Bondeg kink, ropes, his ties, belts, he'll tie you up with anything if your comfortable with it.
definitely a fan of overstimulation, he loves the way that your body twitches and you whimper from his touch.
car sex! All the way. loves to take you in the back of the impala, loving the way the windows fog up and the small area gets loud with the noises you make.
He's a soft/mean Dom, it just depends on his mood. But no matter what he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.
He would really get off on marking you up. He didn’t think he would, as it wasn’t something he thought too much about but when he did it there was no turning back.
He definitely has a Praise kink too, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush. “your so Beautiful”
“you feel so amazing Sweetheart”
He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “don't hold back, let me hear your voice”
He has big chocking kink, he won't be too rough about but he loves wrapping his fingers around your neck and feeling your pulse when he's ramming into you.
This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need. After your both cleaned up, he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle.
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creekfiend · 6 months
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Hey, do you have family in Israel? Do you know whether they are alright?
sure, I do. in my experience most American Jews have family in Israel. When my family left their village in what is now Belarus, half of those leaving came to the US and half went to Palestine. (and those who remained were killed and that village does not exist anymore) I am not in close contact with the Israeli side but I expect I would have heard something if any of them had been hurt. Josh has much closer Israeli family as his brother Yoav and nieces/nephews all live there but they are also fine to my knowledge.
I appreciate the check in, but I will be perfectly honest with you that while it hurts my heart immensely that so many Israeli civilians have been killed, right now I am primarily concerned about the millions of people in Gaza without electricity or running water who have been ordered to evacuate or get exploded but who have nowhere to go. I am very, VERY concerned about the statements being made by the garbage fascists in control of the Israeli government right now openly stating their genocidal intentions on a scale that we haven't previously seen.
we are all triggered and traumatized as hell about everything, and by we I mean Jews, and I think it's understandable for us to feel that way. but I also am struggling a lot with the degree to which many of my fellow American Jews are making this ABOUT our big feelings of fear and anxiety. I understand that anticipating things becoming More Dangerous is something all Jews have had to do constantly forever. I understand that "position of relative privilege" is something that's extremely conditional for Jews and something that can be taken away at the drop of a hat. but... I don't know. I've been trying to think of anything coherent or helpful in any way to say for the past several days and coming up short. it's a nightmare. But it would be disingenuous to deny that it's a nightmare for me in ways that are removed pretty significantly from the ways in which it is a nightmare for other people.
my family is fine. I understand and empathize with the sentiments of "but what if my family becomes NOT fine?" especially when this is the largest mass killing of Jewish civilians since... well. and I am also enraged and terrified by the comfort with which many leftist gentiles seem to be practically celebrating those deaths. but I'm really preoccupied by the fact that millions of people and their families in Gaza are Not Fine in a huge and terrible way right now as we speak. this is not to say that it is a contest, but if I am doing triage, it is very clear to me whose leg is more broken right now. While acknowledging, again, that we are in a scary place globally regarding antisemitism.
Angry Jew on fb has been posting a lot of stuff that really speaks to how I am feeling right now. devastated by the horrible ways some of my people have been killed, and devastated also that inexcusable violence is being done, essentially, in my name. I hate to talk about this publicly because I also fucking wish American gentiles would kind of shut up about it a lot of the time, to be honest. and I hate feeling like I am giving anyone ammunition in their weird ideological internet fights about having The More Correct Opinion in the hypothetical trolley problem-ass situation that so many of them act like this is. the refusal to learn about any specifics of the situation in favor of just deciding it must be exactly like some other unrelated geopolitical issue that they feel they have a better handle on, and then just... overwriting the reality of the situation so that it matches up with what they are comfortable imagining in their heads. I have had to unfollow and block a lot of people lately.
I mostly talk to my safe Jewish and Muslim friends about this. and select few safe non-muslim gentiles.
Right now I am grieving for many reasons. Since you asked me about my personal connection I will tell you the main things I remember learning and feeling about this growing up. I've never been to Israel. Not close enough to my family there to visit, although my dad did, & never comfortable with programs like Birthright. I remember in the 90s my dad, who was an administrator at the school of Public Health at the local university, was helping put together programs that would bring Israeli and Palestinian universities and public health groups together to work on universal public health issues like helping ppl stop smoking, vaccination, etc. it was going really well at the time. he was going over there a few times a year to coordinate with the people running the programs there. he was really optimistic about it, & several other similar programs. this was back when Yasser Arafat and Yitzak Rabin/Shimon Peres were having a lot of talks that were seemingly productive and hopeful. like obviously it was hardly a golden age but it seemed like maybe Israel was moving away from violence. and then 9/11 happened and everything exploded and all the little programs simply disappeared and my dad never went back to work with anyone. and then fucjing... Netanyahu. and it seems like since then everything only gets worse and worse and further and further from anything other than horrible violence, and that devastates me
In high school I took a Mideast Civ class and one of my fellow students was a kid whose parents had been expelled from Palestine during the war and fled to America. what I remember being struck by when he talked about this was how his family's story was so similar to my family's story and a deep sense of shame and anger that people who had undergone what my family had could then make his family undergo the same thing. That's still a pretty big part of how I feel. I don't accept that that kid's experience was necessary to keep me or my family safe.
I'm just a guy. I try my best to learn as much as I can and listen to a large variety of people connected to this so I can have a more holistic view of things. I'm not making this post rebloggable for obvious reasons but since it's here on my blog, for anyone reading who is also feeling despair, here's some organizations that are good to follow & support if you are able (non-exhaustive obviously)
synagoguesrising.org Synagogues Rising is a coalition of leftist synagogues in the US who advocate for Palestinian liberation and who are currently begging the US government to work to deescalate military violence and provide humanitarian aid to people in Gaza
refuser.org Refusers Solidarity Network is a group advocating for Israelis who refuse to serve in the military as conscientious objectors
map.org.uk Medical Aid for Palestinians living under occupation & as refugees
Genuinely, thanks for asking about my family. if you also have family in the area, I hope they are also alright.
I want everyone to be alright. I know this is a lot of big baby feelings and no particular political ideologies or solutions and that's because I'm just one fucking Jew and I'm not an activist or a revolutionary and I kind of feel a bit like other online people could stand to admit more often that they're also just some guy and also not activists or revolutionaries. I sure have beliefs and I sure feel strongly about them, but man, right now I just want to express grief & anger & worry about how awful this government is and how many people they're going to kill and how much I wish it was not happening
my family is Ok.
eta: I'm reading this back and realizing that as a response to this ask it makes it sound like I'm saying that inquiring about the well-being of someone's Israeli relatives is like, inherently devaluing the well-being of other ppl and I very much am not saying that and do not believe that. I'm just enormously emotionally dysregulated and this got me kind of stream of consciousness about all of the things I have been chasing around in my brain about this.
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theship-thewalrus · 1 year
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Hi ! Im sorry if this is annoying but about the niece reader and aegon
Could you do one where they are there when shes asking for ger mother but its alicent she wants
And maybe they stay a week or so trying to reconect but she doesnt want them to speak to her ?
Hi Anon! Don't ever feel like you are annoying, I love writing this! I hope you like this <3
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aegon ii targaryen x niece! wife! reader
pretty much the ask
word count: 578 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: brief mentions of birth
part 1 || part 2 || ending 1 || ending 2 || ending 3 || headcanon 1 || headcanon 2
As Rheanrya stood off to the side watching you call out for your mother, she thought this was the opening for your reconnection. But it was not her who you wanted, she was not a mother to you anymore. Simply the person related to you by blood, the person who birthed you. Coming over to your side she thought it was her time to reconnect. But you wave her away like she was nothing, yet continued to call for your mother. It wounded her like a sword would ever do.
Stepping back the woman moved like you had burned her, clutch in her hand to her chest. Falling back the Maester work around you, fluttering around to ensure you are safe. The door to your chambers hit the wall as Alicent runs into the room, Rhaenyra's head snaps in the direction watching the scene like an outsider. Alicent spares no time running to your side, taking your hand in hers. You visibly become relaxed at her presence, a pained smile forming on your face. The older woman smiles as well, moving some damp hair from your forehead before placing a kiss there.
Rhaenrya was shocked at the encounter. That should be her, holding your hand, comforting you, kissing your forehead. She was your mother, not Alicent. Alicent had not carried you in her womb, birthed you from her body and feed you from her breast. Yet you called Alicent mother, called for her in your time of need. Eyes filling with regret and sadness Rhaenrya slips away, unseen by others.
The birth of your child was hard, but you both survived by some grace of the Gods. Yet, it took you some time to find your strength once more, spending days in bed. Rhaenyra and your birth family had stayed in the hopes with the arrival of your baby you could all be a family once more. Despite trying to see you, to spend time with you, to make sure you were okay. You would not spare a single moment of your time for any of them. No matter the pleading and the demands. They stayed for days longer than originally planned in the hope that by some grace of god you have found it in your heart to forgive them.
Yet, you stayed firm, when their names were come out of your maid's mouth you scoffed. Laying up in bed as you breastfeed your son, was such an intimidating moment and it was being interrupted by someone who you wished nothing to do with. Aegon sat beside you, simply taking the scene between Mother and Child. His eyes were filled with nothing but admiration and love for his little family. Looking to you to see what you wanted to do he did not speak. Aegon would support you no matter what. If you want to speak to them then he will be there by your side. If you wanted them gone he would happily tell them to leave you both.
Looking at him you did not have to say anything for him to understand what you wanted. Moving from your side he would give you a quick kiss before crossing the room to the door. You could not hear much of what was being said, but your voice began to be raised and you could practically hear the smart-ass grin. They would not dare touch you or see you, not while Aegon was there to protect you.
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fanficapologist · 1 month
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Of Dragons and Maelstroms
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Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
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Chapter Seventy-One
“I have to go. It is the Kings command.”
After a day and night filled with arguing regarding not only Aegon’s disrespect, but of what he had asked Aemond to do, Maera’s awoke the following day opting for silence, the flames of her anger burning brighter than ever before. Her husband was returning to his whore. And despite his reassurances that he would not lie with her, nor even be in the same room with her unless absolutely necessary, Maera found little comfort in his words.
War finally felt as though it was at her doorstep. News had reached them that the Lord Commander continued to make his way across the Crownlands, experiencing a few delays on the way to Duskendale due to rebels in the villages of Rosby and Stokeworth, led by wayward knights and angered common folk. These traitors were quickly put to the sword and the Green forces had remained a few days in each location to ensure stability, before moving onto present terms to House Darklyn.
“Are you just going to keep ignoring me?”
The quill scratched furiously across the parchment as Maera penned urgent letters to her siblings, Luthor and Sabine. She implored them to provide sanctuary for her niece and nephew, no, her husband’s niece and nephew, detailing the escalating dangers in King's Landing and the need to keep the children safe.
Meanwhile, a few servants bustled about the room, packing Aemond's belongings into sturdy chests. Each item carefully folded and arranged, ready to be transported to Harrenhal. Aemond's presence loomed in the chamber as he prepared to depart, donning a long leather overcoat suited for dragon flight. Despite his outward appearance of composure, an undercurrent of agitation simmered beneath the surface, fueled by Maera's persistent silence towards him.
She signed her name on the letters to her siblings with a firm hand, the ink drying quickly on the parchment. With practiced precision, she folded each letter closed and sealed them shut with crimson wax, pressing the royal seal of House Targaryen onto the surface.
Despite the urgency of her task, Maera couldn’t shake the feeling of Aemond’s presence lingering in the room. She could sense his eye on her, but she refused to meet his gaze, her focus solely on completing the task of securing the safety of Jaehaera and Maelor.
As she stood from the desk, her movements deliberate yet tinged with apprehension, Maera found herself face to face with Aemond, who had cornered her. His imposing figure seemed to fill the space between them, his eye searching hers for some sign of reconciliation. But Maera remained steadfast, her resolve unyielding despite the tumult of emotions swirling within her. Aemond’s gaze bore down on Maera with an intensity that seemed to penetrate her very soul, his single violet eye flickering with emotion. Initially, Maera averted her gaze, her green eyes skirting away from the raw intensity of his stare.
“I do not know when I will return,” he murmured with a furrowed brow. A sense of defiance ignited within Maera, and she raised her chin, meeting his gaze head-on, her jaw set in determination as the Prince continued to speak. “But I do not wish to part ways like this.”
When Aemond reached for her hand, Maera’s heart fluttered with a mixture of apprehension and longing. She hesitated for a moment, her hand trembling slightly before she tentatively allowed him to intertwine their fingers. Their hands formed a silent connection, a fragile bridge between the chasm that had grown between them. Aemond knew her better than most, and no amount of kind words of thoughtful gestures in this moment would change the way she felt.
With his other hand, Aemond gently lifted Maera’s chin, tilting her head upward until their eyes locked once more. “Do not cause trouble whilst I am gone,” he ordered with a slight smile. Maera’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the weight of his parting words, the warmth of his hand against her skin burning like fire.
He lowered his head down slightly, capturing her attention. “Remain here and focus on the safety of our child. Do not over exert yourself,” Aemond commanded, his tone firmer and face serious, leaving no room for disobedience.
Aemond released her hand, allowing it to rest gently on her growing stomach, a silent acknowledgment of the life burgeoning within her. Maera felt a surge of tenderness wash over her at the touch, the weight of their unborn child pressing against her palm. Their child would be born in five, maybe four, moons, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Aemond would return in time for the birth, if fate would allow him to return at all. Blinking back the tears that threatened to spill, she forced herself to push aside the anxious thoughts that crowded her mind, focusing instead on the present moment.
His other hand, which had been cradling her chin, now moved to the back of her head, drawing her close. Maera leaned into his touch, her heart skipping a beat as his lips brushed against her forehead, his sharp nose buried in her hair. In that fleeting moment, she breathed him in, the scent of dragon smoke and leather imprinting itself upon her senses forevermore.
“Avy jorrāelan,” I love you, he whispered against her skin, his words uttered like a prayer. Maera felt the tug of desire warring against the walls of her resolve. She longed to surrender to him, to relinquish herself to the undeniable pull of their connection. Yet beneath the surface, a stubborn determination held her back, a fear of vulnerability that she couldn't quite shake.
As Aemond pulled away, his gaze lingering on her form, Maera watched him leave silently, her heart heavy with unspoken words as he departed through their chamber doors. She listened to the echo of his footsteps fade into the distance, leaving her alone with her thoughts as she made her way to the nearby window, sitting and gazing out at the world. After a while, Maera saw the unmistakable silhouette of Vhagar soaring through the sky and disappearing into the clouds, leaving her feeling utterly powerless.
Anger simmered beneath the surface, fueled by the frustration of the ongoing war and the relentless chaos it brought. She clenched her fists, a silent protest against the forces that tore them apart. The pang of his departure cut deep, leaving her feeling abandoned and alone in the midst of the tumultuous political landscape. The thought of Aemond's possible interactions with Alys gnawed at her, igniting a bitterness that she struggled to suppress. The war had already taken so much from them, and the fear of losing him to another woman added another layer of anguish to her already burdened heart.
Staring at horizon, her hand instinctively going to her growing belly, Maera couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability that enveloped her. The weight of her impending motherhood added to her sense of isolation, leaving her feeling exposed and defenseless in a world fraught with danger. Maera’s keen ears could detect the low rumbles of Ēbrion’s calls on the beach, the noise filled with longing and pain. With a heavy sigh, she allowed her tears to flow freely, a silent testament to the weight of their parting and the uncertainty that lay ahead.
Maera made a conscious decision to shift her focus away from her turbulent emotions and instead spent time with Jaehaera and Maelor in the serene surroundings of the Red Keep gardens. As they strolled amidst the vibrant foliage, escorted by Ser Arryk, the laughter of the children and the gentle breeze from the nearby sea served as a welcome distraction, momentarily drowning out the storm of frustration that brewed inside her.
The trees, adorned with leaves of crimson, gold, and amber, rustled softly in the breeze, releasing a symphony of whispers that echoed through the air. A carpet of fallen leaves decorated the ground, crunching softly underfoot as they walked along the winding pathways. The fragrance of earth and decaying foliage mingled with the sweet scent of late-blooming flowers, creating an intoxicating aroma that hung in the air.
Being surrounded by the beauty of nature provided Maera with a temporary reprieve from the harsh realities of her situation. As she watched Jaehaera and Maelor play amidst the splendor of the gardens alongside her protector and a nursery maid, she found solace in the simple joys of the moment, allowing herself to momentarily forget the pain of Aemond's absence and the sense of powerlessness that weighed heavily upon her. In this tranquility, she could lock away her feelings and find comfort in the comforting embrace of denial, if only for a fleeting moment.
“It is hard to believe you were once that small.”
Maera turned to unexpectedly see her father, Lord Jasper, approaching on the stone path. No doubt he had heard of her and her husband’s disagreements before his departure, and was checking to see if all was well. The Master of Laws cut a distinguished figure in his classic attire of turquoise and gold, his chest adorned with a chain that gleamed in the sunlight. Lord Jasper carried a stack of books and scrolls, a testament to his scholarly pursuits.
Despite the presence of her father, Maera maintained her silence, offering him only a brief nod of acknowledgment before returning her gaze to her wards. Lord Jasper joined her side, his gaze also fixed on Jaehaera and Maelor as they played together in the garden. Lord Jasper breathed a laugh as he watched the nursery maid scolding Maelor for tugging his sister’s hair, a scene that brought a fond smile to his lips.
“Laethan and Vaeron always pulled on your braids,” the Master of Laws chuckled at the memory of his late sons, but was met with silence from his daughter. In truth, she could not remember those moments with her brothers, or even what they truly looked like. She knew one had silver hair like their mother, the other dark brown like Maera, but that was all. Another torn page in her book of family history.
Sensing he was getting nowhere, Lord Jasper opted for a different approach. “Your stepmother writes that she is with child again.” This earned more of a reaction, a mere scoff from Maera. This would bring the total of trueborn children up to thirty. More pieces on her father’s political chessboard. A Wylde on the seat of every great House, if he so wished. The news of another sibling brought no comfort. Maera wondered if she would actually even get to meet them now she was a Princess and lived in Kings Landing. Probably not, as her place was in the Keep, with her husband. Her husband who was now gone.
The Master of Laws sighed deeply, turning to his daughter as she met his gaze with a furrowed brow, her eyes the same shade of green as his. “I know this is difficult Maera, but such is the ways of war,” he began. “Your husband will serve the Realm justly at the warfront, and you will serve the Realm here, by providing the Prince with an heir.” Her father’s gaze wandered down to her growing stomach, protruding out of her black and gold skirts.
“An heir that could perhaps also inherit the throne. Stranger things have happened,” Lord Jasper grinned. Maera tore his gaze away from him, instead refocusing on Jaehaera and Maelor playing. Would it be so difficult just to love the child in her belly as it was? And not have it be a contender for the throne? Why was the child viewed as its station rather than the person they actually were? Was a parent’s love truly so conditional?
A hand on her shoulder brought Maera back to reality, causing her to look again at the Master of Laws. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, almost hesitant for the words to leave his mouth.
“You are his wife. Nothing, and no one can take that away from us,” Lord Jasper stated. Maera shook her head subtly to herself. Of course. ‘Us.’ Naturally, her father cared for little else except their statuses as nobles. Now Aemond and Maera were bound in marriage, nothing a bastard whore presented to her husband could tear him away from Maera by law. But she did not care about law.
“I understand what he has done may have upset you. But it is the way things are, and you need to accept that.”
As her father continued to speak, Maera’s frustration and anger threatened to boil over, evident in the tensing of her muscles and the tightness of her jaw. Despite Lord Jasper’s advice conforming to societal expectations, Maera’s body grew increasingly rigid and defiant, her shoulders squared and her gaze steely.
“It is your duty to stand by his side and endure, no matter what happens,” the Master of Laws concluded in a firm tone, ordering his daughter to simply accept the current reality and be a good obedient little wife, like so many noblewomen before her. Unable to contain her emotions any longer, Maera’s anger erupted like a raging inferno.
“Fuck that.”
With a sharp turn, she stormed away from her father, her steps purposeful and determined. Approaching Jaehaera and Maelor, she enveloped them in firm kisses on the crowns of their heads, the scent of soap mingling with the silver locks of their hair, a brief moment of solace amidst the turmoil. Leaving the children in the care of the nursery maid, Maera began to stride back towards the castle, her jaw clenched with resolve. Despite Lord Jasper’s attempts to call her back, she ignored him, her mind consumed by the task at hand.
As she made her way, Ser Arryk, ever loyal, jogged to catch up with her. The clink of his armor grew louder until he reached her side, his mousey brown hair tied back and his neatly trimmed beard framing concern in his hazel eyes. With a steady gaze, he wordlessly offered his support, ready to stand by her side through whatever challenges lay ahead.
The servants bustled in and out of Maera's room for the second time that day, their hurried movements filling the space as they packed her belongings into chests. Black and gold dresses of various styles and fabrics were carefully folded and placed alongside her leathers and weapons, ensuring everything was packed securely for the journey ahead. A smaller chest was prepared, containing essentials that would tide Maera over until the rest of her belongings could be delivered on horseback in a weeks' time.
Meanwhile, Maera sat at her dresser, clad in her black and gold riding leathers, as her loyal maid Thena worked on braiding her hair. With expert fingers, Thena expertly wove Maera's dark locks into neat plaits, the silver streak standing out prominently against the darker strands. As the first braid was completed, Thena moved on to the second, her brow furrowed with concern as she worked.
"I know you don't approve, Thena" Maera stated matter-of-factly, her voice tinged with defiance.
Thena continued her task, her hands weaving through Maera's hair, her expression softening with worry. "I'm just worried for you, Princess, and for the babe," she replied gently, her voice laden with concern. "War is dangerous, and it spares no one."
Once the braiding was finished, Maera rose from her seat and turned to face Thena, taking the maid's hands in her own. Gratitude shone in her eyes as she gazed at the older woman, her ginger hair framing kind brown eyes that reflected genuine care and concern.
"You have been loyal to me since the day I returned to King's Landing," she acknowledged, gratitude evident in her tone. “And I will never be able to repay all the kindness you have shown me. But I hope this helps a little bit.”
Reaching into the drawer of her dresser, Maera procured a black silk purse, containing enough silver stags to start a new life, and pressed it into Thena's hands. "I know not when or if I will see you again," Maera admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I need one more favor from you."
Thena's eyes were filled with tears, and her smile was warm and reassuring as she listened attentively. "Anything," she promised.
Maera's gaze held steady as she spoke her next words with conviction. "Prepare the children to leave the capital when the time is right," she instructed, her tone firm yet earnest. "And if possible, against the King's wishes, try to get Helaena out of King's Landing too."
Thena nodded solemnly, her agreement a silent vow to carry out Maera's wishes, no matter the obstacles that lay ahead. As Maera bid farewell to her loyal maid, the air in the room seemed heavy with the weight of their parting. Their embrace was not a formality, but a genuine display of affection and gratitude, their intertwined arms speaking volumes about the bond they shared. Tears welled in Maera’s eyes as she held onto Thena, the maid’s comforting presence offering a moment of respite.
When the chamber doors creaked open, Maera reluctantly pulled away from Thena, her gaze shifting to Ser Arryk as he entered. He stood there, a stalwart figure, his presence a source of reassurance amidst the uncertainty of their circumstances. Clad in a cloak and without his usual armor, his sword still hung at his hip as a silent reminder of his duty.
Maera wiped her eye before addressing her protector. “Oh Arryk, I have not forgotten about you either.” With a soft sniffle, Maera opened the dresser again and retrieved another purse of silver, intending to offer it to Ser Arryk as a token of gratitude for his steadfast service. However, to her surprise, he shook his head, declining the gesture with a solemn expression. “I made a vow, Princess, and I shan’t abandon it now. You will not journey into the vipers nest alone.”
As Maera processed the news that Ser Arryk would be accompanying her to her destination, a wave of relief washed over her. The prospect of facing the unknown ahead seemed less daunting now, knowing that she would have his steadfast presence by her side. In that moment, she felt a profound sense of gratitude for the unwavering support of both Thena and Ser Arryk, their loyalty serving as a beacon of strength amidst the turmoil of their circumstances.
Maera walked through the corridors of the Red Keep, her steps echoed with a newfound determination. Ser Arryk's presence at her side offered a sense of reassurance, a reminder that she was not embarking on this journey alone. Though he had declined to accompany her on dragonback, knowing that he would meet her at her destination in a week's time provided a comforting anchor amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead.
As she traversed the familiar halls, Maera's mind buzzed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, reflecting on the tumultuous events that had led her to this pivotal moment. Less than a year had passed since she had returned to the capital, yet the landscape of her life had been irrevocably altered.
Married to Aemond, the man she had once despised, their relationship evolved from a childhood friendship to a love that defied expectations. The loss of Jaehaerys, the innocent boy she had watched come into the world, weighed heavily on her heart, a stark reminder of the fragility of life in a world plagued by violence and betrayal.
And then there was Helaena, the fragile thread that had initially drawn Maera back to the capital. Seeing her friend suffer through unimaginable grief and loss had been a horrendous experience, one that had left Maera grappling with her own sense of helplessness in the face of such profound suffering.
But amidst the darkness and despair, there was also hope. With the weight of her husband's child nestled within her, Maera embarked on a journey to mount her dragon, Ēbrion, a creature with whom she had formed an improbable bond against all odds. With Ser Arryk opening the doors to the courtyard, Maera found herself drawing strength from the resilience that had carried her through the trials of the past year, determined to seize control and forge a path forward, no matter the obstacles that stood in her way.
“Maera!”
Turning, she saw the Queen Mother rushing down the stairs, green skirts flapping as she ran, her face flushed with exertion. This was no doubt one last act of the Master of Laws, using Alicent, who had greater authority, to get Maera to fall in line.
“Maera, please,” Alicent implored, reaching out and clasping onto Maera’s arms with desperation. Maera’s expression softened as she regarded her mother-in-law, noting the anguish etched on her face. “You cannot leave. Think of the child within you,” Alicent pleaded.
Maera gently took Alicent’s hand in hers, meeting her gaze with resolve. “It is because of my child that I must leave,” she replied, her voice steady. “Kings Landing is vulnerable. We cannot receive trade via the Gullet. The Realm is divided, and now the Riverlands are lost. My dragon can be better utilized for the war effort.”
As Maera attempted to withdraw, Alicent’s grip tightened, her tone growing more desperate. “Have you even considered your wards, or Helaena?” she demanded.
Maera’s eyes flashed with irritation. “I have ensured the children’s safety,” she retorted. “And as for Helaena, I’ve requested her relocation, but the King refused. If you’re unhappy, take it up with your son.”
With a frustrated sigh, Maera pulled her arm away, her frustration palpable. “I never asked to be thrust into the forefront of a war,” she stated firmly. “But now that I am, I will not stand by idly and watch it unfold before me.” With that, Maera turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Alicent to ponder her words in the echoing halls of the Red Keep.
Mounting her dragon on the beach, Maera prayed to the Seven that what she had learned the past month from the dragon keepers was enough to prepare her for what lay ahead. With a commanding voice, she issued the order for Ēbrion to fly. The magnificent beast responded with a powerful flap of his wings, propelling them into the air with a deafening roar. As they soared higher and higher, Maera took a moment to familiarize herself with the intricacies of the saddle, adjusting the reins to steer the dragon north west, in the direction of her destination.
Though the sensation of flying was exhilarating, she remained focused, her mind sharp as she navigated the skies. With each adjustment, she could feel the dragon responding beneath her, his movements synchronized with her commands and pulling of the reins, ascending into the gray clouds that hung ominously overhead.
After a while of soaring through the calm skies, a sudden shift in the atmosphere signaled the onset of a fierce storm. Dark clouds rolled in with alarming speed, obscuring the once clear horizon with a blanket of ominous gray. Thunder rumbled in the distance, reverberating through the air like the roar of an angry beast. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the clouds with jagged bolts of electric energy. The wind howled with relentless fury, buffeting Ēbrion's massive wings as he struggled to maintain his course amidst the tempest.
Rain began to fall in torrents, pelting down upon Maera with merciless force. Each droplet felt like a sharp needle against her skin, stinging her face and obscuring her vision. She gasped for breath amidst the deluge, the relentless onslaught of water making it difficult to draw in air. Struggling to maintain her grip on the reins, Maera clung desperately to the saddle, her fingers white-knuckled with exertion. With Ēbrion's movements growing increasingly erratic in the storm, she knew she needed to find shelter from the raging elements.
“Dokimarvose, Ēbrion. Pālēs,” Focus, Ēbrion. Evasive Manoeuvres, Maera commanded through the storm, her mount obeying with a mighty roar.
Pushing herself forward into a lying position against the saddle, Maera sought to shield herself from the brunt of the rain. Despite her efforts, the rain continued to assault her with unyielding ferocity, soaking her to the bone and chilling her to the core. As the storm raged on around her, Maera's thoughts turned to the haunting memory of her recent nightmare, the sensation of drowning in the darkness of the water echoing in her mind.
As the storm finally began to relent, Ēbrion soared into a clearer patch of sky, his powerful wings beating against the remnants of the tempest. Maera, her body drenched and shivering from the ordeal, felt a surge of relief flood through her as she finally managed to catch her breath. Laughing incredulously, she marveled at the sheer resilience of both herself and the magnificent dragon beneath her.
With a shaky hand, Maera reached down to place a gentle palm against her growing stomach, feeling the reassuring presence of her unborn child. “Īlon vēttan ziry,” We made it, she grinned.
Turning her gaze past Ēbrion's head, Maera's eyes widened in awe as she beheld the majestic sight of a distant mountain range rising up on the horizon. The rugged peaks stretched out in a breathtaking panorama, their silhouettes etched against the canvas of the sky. Beneath the dragon's left wing, Maera's gaze fell upon an expansive lake, its dark waters shimmering in the sunlight. Nestled within the embrace of the tranquil waters, an island adorned with lush foliage beckoned invitingly, a verdant oasis amidst the vast expanse of the lake.
Yet it was the sight below his right wing that truly captured Maera's attention. As she peered down, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of ruins, sprawled out like the skeletal remains of a once-grand structure. The massive castle, with its towering walls and imposing towers, stood as a testament to ancient power and ambition. The blackened stone, scorched by dragonfire centuries ago, bore witness to the castle's tragic history. Harrenhall.
“Ninkiot.” Land.
With a resounding thud, Ēbrion descended gracefully onto the ground beside the crumbling ruins of Harrenhal, his massive form causing the earth to tremble beneath his weight. The impact sent a cascade of stones tumbling from the dilapidated walls of the once-mighty fortress. Maera wasted no time in unlacing the intricate bindings that tethered her to the saddle, her nimble fingers deftly working to loosen the restraints. She also unfastened the chest secured behind her, which contained her items of clothing and weapons, heaving it onto the ground with a determined grunt.
Descending from her lofty perch, Maera began to make her way down the makeshift ladder fashioned from sturdy ropes, her movements deliberate and sure. However, before she could reach the ground, Ēbrion extended his massive wing towards her, a silent offer of assistance. Grateful for her dragon companion's aid, Maera accepted the gesture, using the sturdy appendage as a makeshift slide to descend the remaining distance to the ground. As her feet touched the earth below, she cast a fond glance up at Ēbrion, silently thanking him for his steadfast companionship throughout their journey.
“Halt!”
Maera’s gaze snapped towards the fortress gates, where two guards dressed in helmets and chainmail stood, swords raised as they approached her. Although the swords were aimed in her direction, their eyes were instead fixed on the gigantic dragon behind Maera. At the sight of the guards’ aggressive stance, Ēbrion reacted instinctively, his massive form tensing as he assumed a defensive posture. With a deep rumble emanating from his throat, the dragon growled menacingly, his blue and black scales glinting in the sunlight as he bared his formidable teeth.
“Lower your weapons, for Gods’ sake,” Maera sneered at the men, hoping to avert a potentially disastrous clash between man and dragon.
“Then state your business,” one of the guards replied, a quiver in his voice as he looked down the dragon’s throat. As Ēbrion prepared to unleash his fiery breath, Maera sprang into action, standing sideways with one arm raised in an attempt to calm the enraged beast. With her other hand held up in a placating gesture towards the guards, she hoped to diffuse the escalating tension and avoid a confrontation.
“Lay down your arms, you idiots!” A voice boomed from overhead, seemingly coming from one of the turrets above the gate. Maera heard the clink of armour of the approaching source of the voice. A voice she was sure she recognised.
Maera’s eyes narrowed as she focused on the approaching man, squinting to discern his features amidst the sunlight. He stood at a similar height to her, with short strawberry blonde hair, a sprinkling of freckles adorning his cheeks, and a neatly trimmed beard framing his jawline. His armour bore the sigil of a blue and silver seven-pointed star on the chest plate, the sword on his hip commanding attention.
Relief flooded through Maera as she recognized the man as Lord Adrian Tarbeck, her sister Sabine’s husband. With a grateful sigh, Maera turned to Ēbrion and gave him a nod of permission to depart. With a powerful beat of his wings, the dragon took flight, disappearing into the distance as Maera and Lord Adrian began to converse.
“You are a long way from home, my Lord,” Maera greeted her brother-in-law with a smile, who returned the grin with a respectful bow.
“Lord Lannister suggested my forces were best utilised here for the meantime,” Lord Adrian replied. He then turned his attention to the guards, barking an order at them to grab Maera’s chest of belongings before inviting her to follow him inside, with the suggestion of settling her into the previous Lord and Lady’s chamber.
Adrian led Maera through the dilapidated courtyards of Harrenhal, the echoes of their footsteps mingling with the whispers of history that haunted the ancient fortress. Crumbling walls loomed overhead, bearing witness to centuries of strife and upheaval. As they entered the castle itself, Maera followed her brother-in-law's steady stride, her mind racing with thoughts of her purpose here. She explained to Adrian that she had recently corresponded with Sabine, seeking permission to take Maelor under her care as a ward.
Before she could delve further into the matter, however, Maera's attention was drawn to a room along their path. Pausing in her tracks, she looked inside, her gaze scanning the sparse furnishings—a small bed, shelves lined with jars and ointments, and a hearth crackling with warmth. In the dim light of the chamber, Maera's eyes fell upon a figure standing at the hearth, their back turned to her as they stirred a pot bubbling above the flames.
“Princess?” Lord Adrian’s voice called her back to reality, his blue eyes filled with confusion as he watched his sister-in-law stood beside the wooden door.
She looked at him for a moment, before turning her gaze back to the person in the room. “Thank you for leading me this far, good brother. I shall find you shortly.” Before Adrian could reply, Maera entered the room and shut the door behind her, turning her attention back to the figure standing before the hearth, a silhouette against the flickering flames.
“I knew you would come, Princess,” the woman’s voice echoed in the room, her attention still focused on the pot bubbling over the fire.
Maera’s brow furrowed in surprise. “You did?” she questioned, taking a few steps closer.
The woman nodded slowly, her movements deliberate. “Yes, I saw you in the storm cloud. And in this fire I lit to cook my supper,” she replied cryptically, her words sending a shiver down Maera’s spine. “I see much and more, you know.”
Maera felt a chill settle over her as she recognized the voice. It was the seer, the witch, the whore—Alys. Despite her apprehension, she squared her shoulders, steeling herself before addressing the woman.
“You see a lot, yet do not know how to appropriately greet a Princess of House Targaryen?” Maera’s tone was laced with thinly veiled disdain, her eyes narrowing as she observed the witch’s form.
Alys breathed a laugh, the sound echoing in the room as she dropped her spoon into the pot with a clatter. “My apologies, Princess,” she replied, turning to face Maera with a smirk playing on her lips.
As the witch turned, Maera’s heart skipped a beat, and a shiver ran down her spine. The woman’s features were eerily familiar—the dimples that creased her cheeks as she smirked, the lines etched around her eyes, and the mesmerizing cat-like green hue of her irises. It was the same face that had haunted Maera’s nightmares, the face of her reflection. Alys then offered a mocking curtsy, her movements fluid yet filled with a subtle mockery.
Maera’s gaze was drawn downward, her blood running cold and a gasp audibly leaving her mouth. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the crackling of the hearth and the distant echoes of the storm that had battered them earlier. Maera stood frozen, grappling with the unmistakable large bump of pregnancy protruding beneath the fabric of Alys’ dress.
“Fuck.”
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Notes: 🎤 drop. Things are about to get super fucking messy 🖤
Tags: @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @manipulatixe @0eessirk8 @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek
Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
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Why Does Change Hurt So Much?
Joel Miller X F!Reader Joel wasn't a terrible person, he'd done everything he could to make sure everyone he cared about was safe. Until Ellie finds out the truth, finds out that Joel's never been truthful, until Ellie hates him. A/N:this fic idea had been bothering me for DAYS so I finally took the time to write it, there's no real major warnings besides the D slur as well as Joel talking about his past also also, SPOILERS FOR THE LAST OF US PART II, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED also also also:feedback is HIGHLY appreciated! Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
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Everything started to change after Ellie had stopped speaking to Joel, even if it was tearing him apart inside that he couldn’t just casually go and talk to her. He’d met you first at the Tipsy Bison, it was an accident and Joel hadn’t stumbled over his words in so long. Your first date was magical and the only person he could talk to about it was his brother. Sure he could’ve talked to Maria about you too but she was dealing with his niece's terrible twos at the moment. He’d fallen in love hard and fast but refused to admit he was the first one to say ‘I love you’. Then came the engagement. Joel downright refused to make a fuss over it because the one person he’d wanted to tell wouldn’t be there. It felt almost wrong to keep living his life after what happened, as if he wasn’t meant to be happy.
The wedding was a simple and quiet affair, only a handful of people were in attendance as the pair of you bound yourselves to one another. You’d looked ethereal before him, a goddess sent down to make sure he didn’t do something stupid. It reminded him of when he’d rescued Ellie from the hospital, he’d knocked the surgeon and nurses out before taking her from the bed. Marlene had been an unfortunate casualty but he downright refused to let them murder her for the sake of something that wouldn't work. 
Ellie had gone back for the backpack with the memories of her life before infection, Marlene’s body had slowly decomposed into the ground. The doctor and ‘friends’ must have fled as there was no sign of them when Ellie arrived. She listened to each and every recording, the sick realization that Joel had lied dug so dangerously deep. The only person she’d had any trust for, and he fucking lied! How could he do this to her, it didn’t make any sense for him to lie to her about something so serious. Maybe Maria was right, maybe she truly knew nothing about Joel Miller.
The little tussle with Seth had been almost accidental, you and Joel had been sitting together by the bar, watching Ellie and Dina dance together. You knew the story of what happened and how it came to be that Ellie wanted nothing to do with Joel. It was heartbreaking to hear how much Joel truly cared about the teen. You weren’t going to interfere though, there was nothing more irritating than someone else knowing your business. And then Seth goes and calls Ellie a dyke. Had Joel not thrown himself out of his chair you absolutely would have. You were in a goddamn apocalypse and this bigot was being hateful still?
Of course that didn’t mean Ellie was going to take kindly to Joel trying to defend her. The bar was silent as she hissed the words “I don’t need your fucking help”. Your heart broke at the expression that flickered over his features. Joel had managed to hide how distraught he was for years, but to hear it again that Ellie practically hated him dug the knife a little deeper. He didn’t say anything as he turned to leave, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you flush to his side.
Ellie stared as the two of you left, more confused than hurt in that moment as she suddenly realized she had no idea who you were. Dina called her name softly, it was time to leave and not make anymore scenes. Why did the thought of Joel finding someone bother her so much? He’d made it quite known that he was perfectly happy on his own.
“Ellie, why don’t we leave and talk about this somewhere else?” Dina seemed a little more desperate now, everyone was staring at the pair.
“Yeah, let’s go” Ellie laced their fingers together, walking briskly out of the bar before anyone else could utter their own hatred.
Joel’s hands were shaking as he tried, and struggled, to pour the ground coffee into the press. Tommy had managed to find not only a french press, but also six bags of ground coffee during their last run. It was the only thing, besides you of course, that seemed to help manage his anxiety. Ironic isn’t it?
“Joel, you have to understand where she’s coming from, she was told that she was going to ‘change the world’ and do bigger and better things,” You never faulted Joel for his decision, but you could understand why Ellie was angry with him.
“I should’ve just told her the truth from the start, maybe she wouldn’t hate me as much,” Joel hadn’t regretted letting the doctor live, the man was just doing what he was told.
“I think she would’ve been upset no matter what, she’s still a kid,” You watched and waited as Joel finished scooping the coffee in, pouring over the hot water to let it steep.
The air in the kitchen seemed to almost thicken as you both waited for the conversation to continue. It was never easy watching Joel slip further into this depression, nor was it easy watching the way Ellie became more hostile. It was subtle at first, Joel would be in bed for an extra twenty minutes whereas before he’d be up before the sun was even out. Ellie would snap on people much quicker, blaming it on a multitude of things instead of addressing the issue. Joel frowned as he pushed the plunger down slowly, making sure it was level with the bottom before pouring himself a cup.
Before you could say anything else a knock at the door caught both your and Joel’s attention. It could be one of three people. Tommy, to see what happened at the bar, Seth to apologize, or Ellie. You weren’t sure who you were hoping was on the other side of the door, you were hoping for a brief second that it was Tommy. Joel opened the door slower than normal, brow furrowing as he stared down at Ellie.
“Hey, is it okay if we talk outside?” She glanced over to where you were sitting, her eyes widened with a million different emotions before they locked back on Joel.
“Sure let’s go,” Joel looked back at you for a brief second, nodding his head before stepping out onto the porch with Ellie.
The door shut with an almost silent click, normally Joel preferred something that made a little more noise as he’d lost his hearing almost entirely on the right side now. He only had himself to blame of course, shooting infected with a rifle wasn’t always the smartest idea. That wasn’t why they were here though, and Joel was terrified of what was going to happen.
“Why did you do it?” Ellie hadn’t even given him a moment to sip his coffee, which at the moment was keeping him grounded.
“I couldn’t let them kill you for something that had a one percent chance of working,” Joel stared down at the steaming mug, a frown pulling at his lips.
“It wasn’t your choice to make, Joel, and you know that. You took away the only thing that mattered most to me,” Ellie had been furious, the anger burning like a wildfire inside of her for so long.
Joel didn’t say anything, instead bringing the mug to his lips and letting the liquid soothe his throat. He wouldn’t admit to absolutely anyone, but he’d fallen to his knees once you and him were alone after the incident at the bar. He’d cried until his throat felt raw and torn, gripped the fabric of your shirt until his knuckles turned white. Joel had blamed himself for years, for all the lies he told to make sure Ellie never found out the truth. He had promised himself he would tell her that he had taken away her choice because he was selfish. But then she’d found out, and she’d hated him even more than he could ever hate himself.
“If I could relive that day, I would do it all over again,” Joel had lost too many people in his life, he’d nearly lost you a few times and he couldn’t talk to anyone about it.
Ellie’s shoulders slumped forward, head hanging down as she struggled to take in his words. They had been a team, never keeping secrets when it mattered most, but right now there was still that wall between the two of them. Snow had started to fall from the sky, albeit slowly and drifting away from them it seemed.
“I killed a lot of people that day, and I’m not proud to admit that, but I wasn’t going to let them kill an innocent child for something that would not work,” Joel stood up straight, or as straight as his back would let him at the moment.
“I’ll never ask for your forgiveness, lord knows I don’t deserve it, but you deserved more than a fantasy built on lies told by the people who claimed to care about you,” Joel finished off the coffee, grimacing at how cold it had become.
Ellie stood there silently, mulling over everything Joel had said to her. She’d only seen Marlene’s side of everything, the way she spoke about the vaccine as if it was a miracle cure. Even if it didn’t work, if it was all just a pipe dream that was made up by a bunch of morons, Joel took that from her.
“I knew your mother, very briefly, but I don’t think she would’ve wanted her only daughter to be murdered for the same thing that killed her,” Wait, what did he just say?
“You knew my mother?” Ellie’s voice was soft, shock coursing through her like a bolt of lightning.
“Like I said, I knew her very briefly, she was already six months pregnant by the time we met. Tommy had joined the fireflies already when we ran into one another, she was a total spitfire that took shit from no one. I can see where you get it from,” Joel reached down to set the mug on the table behind him.
No one had ever told Ellie about her mother, and one of the only people who even knew her mother was dead and gone. She’d always wondered what her mother was like, was she kind and smart? Or was she as much of an asshole that Ellie had made herself out to be?
“Tommy knows more than I do about her if you’re ever curious, but yeah, your mother died making sure that you were safe and sound, I don’t think she would’ve appreciated what Marlene tried to do,” Looking over at Joel reminded Ellie of exactly why they were in this situation.
The lies had built up for two years before she finally confronted him, angry that something so serious had been kept from her. Joel didn’t lie after that, he told her everything she wanted to hear and accepted when she cut him off. He was thankful for it in a sense, if Ellie hadn’t stopped speaking to him he would’ve never found the courage to talk to you.
“You got married, and you didn’t tell me,” The hurt was precedent in Ellie’s tone, though she felt stupid for being upset.
“You weren’t talking to me, and Tommy didn’t think it was his place to tell you I’d found someone to spend the rest of my life with,” Joel loved you more than anything, even if the two of you found out neither of you could have any kids it was fine.
Joel had already been a father, he’d lost one daughter the day the apocalypse started, and lost the second due to his own actions. Another child would just complicate things further for him, he’d be more worried during patrols wondering if you and the kids were okay at home. You’d been more worried about Joel’s reaction to hearing that you couldn’t have children than actually hearing it. You had accepted that you wouldn’t be a parent, especially once the world went to shit and all your friends and family were dead. 
“She knows the truth, I ended up spilling my guts one night after drinking half a bottle of whiskey, gotta say she’s a much better person than I will ever be,” Joel wasn’t dumb, he’d done horrible shit in his life and would spend the rest of it atoning for it.
“She knows I got bit?” Ellie clenched her hands into fists, the tattoo that covered the skin was a much more pleasant sight, but it still hurt to know a stranger knew her entire life.
“I told her about everything, from when Sarah was a baby, to coming back to Jackson. I’m not going to keep secrets from my wife Ellie,” Joel’s anger wasn’t something that built slowly, he would be the first to admit how hot headed he was.
Ellie opened and closed her mouth a few times, what could she possibly say to that without sounding hypocritical. She was the one to cut Joel out of her life entirely, he wasn’t going to go skipping to her house to announce that he’d gotten married. But her life wasn’t something for him to tell.
“I didn’t tell her about Riley, or Cat, or hell even Dina. I told her about how Marlene begged us to take you to the hospital, how we lost Tess, Bill, Frank, Henry and Sam along the way. I didn’t tell her about David, or the way I tortured three men to try and find you. How I killed fifteen men to get to you, the surgeon is lucky I didn’t kill him,” Joel scoffed lowly, running his tongue over his teeth as the taste of coffee lingered.
“You didn’t tell her about all of that?” Maybe she should’ve been screaming at him, that he had still spewed too many secrets that weren’t his.
“No, she knows the bare minimum about you,” Joel’s hands had started to shake again, though he was more sure that it had to do with the cold rather than anything.
Ellie wanted to know everything about you, where you’d grown up, how old were you before the apocalypse happened, how did you manage to tie down Joel Miller. Her thoughts strayed back to Dina, what would she make of the situation when they got to talk again?
“Joel?” Your voice was quiet, a cardigan wrapped tight to keep off the winter chill that was trying to seep itself into your bones.
“Go back inside hun, I’ll be in in a few minutes,” Joel reached over, cupping your cheek with a cold palm.
“Make sure you stay warm, don’t need you getting sick,” You smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm before glancing over at Ellie.
“I will, scouts honor,” Joel’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at you.
To anyone that witnessed the moment it was obvious how in love you were, Joel’s eyes sparkled with love and affection. Ellie looked away, feeling as if she was intruding on a personal moment between the two of you. It wasn’t until she’d heard the door shut once more that she lifted her head, looking back over at the older man.
“Look, if you’re here to get mad at me some more about the past, just go home and get some sleep, you’re taking over for Tommy and I tomorrow for the afternoon shift,” Joel grabbed the mug off the table, ready to go inside and lick his wounds in private.
Ellie didn’t say another word, watching as Joel stepped inside his house and shut the door with a deafening click. It felt as if they had sealed their fate, they would never be able to truly move past the issues at hand. Joel had admitted fault, had told Ellie that he knew what he did was wrong, but he couldn’t lose someone else. Ellie couldn’t see it that way, she wanted to truly hate Joel for what he’d done. Maybe she’d ask Tommy about her mother, learn everything about her that she could. Maybe, just maybe, she could learn to forgive Joel.
Joel stared down at the single mug sitting in the sink, he wanted to go outside and talk to Ellie for just a few more minutes, but this wasn’t something he could fix on his own. He’d joked about seeing a therapist, knowing that there were a few living in Jackson he could talk to. He’d have to leave out key information though, and that didn’t feel right with him if he was going to spill his emotions.
“Joel, let’s go to bed,” You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back.
“You think she’ll ever forgive me?” Joel never got his hopes up, it was too dangerous to hope for a positive outcome.
“I think she needs time to figure out who she is as a person on her own, she needs to find her identity before she starts to accept people in her life,” It was something you’d thought about for a while, being married almost two years, having met right after Ellie stopped speaking to him.
You knew Joel wanted Ellie by his side but he needed to punish himself for what he’d done, for his actions having consequences that caused this to snowball. You were surprised to hear he’d let the doctor live, knowing how dangerous that could have been considering the circumstances. You’d mulled over the story yourself multiple times, coming to the same conclusion after deliberating. Had you been in Joel’s shoes, you would have saved Ellie as well, keeping her safe in such a toxic world.
“I wish she could’ve met Sarah, they would’ve got on like a house on fire,” It was something Joel had mentioned a few times, of course Sarah would’ve been in her 30’s had that night not happened.
“I think you seem to forget that Ellie is still a kid, Sarah would’ve been an adult with possibly children of her own,” You patted Joel’s stomach playfully, pulling your arms away to head on up to bed.
Joel refused to let his mind wander, to think about what would’ve happened if Sarah had lived. He wouldn’t have been here with you, Ellie would’ve died for nothing, and his brother would’ve still left, it didn’t seem worth it. Turning off all the lights downstairs Joel made his way up to where you were. Grabbing his pajamas to change out of the heavy clothes that kept out the normal winter chill. You’d started stealing Joels’ shirts to sleep in only a few months after you had gotten together. Joel of course encouraged it and even snuck a few of his own shirts into your drawers.
“Do you think I’m a bad dad?” The question caught you off guard, it wasn’t something he’d ever asked before.
“Absolutely not, and I swear if you start blaming yourself for stuff that was out of your control I’m going to grab my slipper and beat you with it,” You pulled off your jeans, shrugging on one of Joel’s shirts and a pair of sweatpants.
“Yes ma’am,” Joel chuckled, pulling on his shirt before turning to face you.
He wasn’t surprised to see that you’d already crawled into bed, blanket pulled up nearly over your head as you stared back at him. Domesticity felt good, a comforting weight he hadn’t felt since he arrived back in Jackson all those years ago.
“You sounded like a wonderful dad, Joel, Sarah was a very lucky girl to have you as her father,” It needed to be a reminder that Joel was a good person who’d had to do bad things to survive.
There was no right and wrong in the world anymore, some people killed to survive, and some people survived to kill. You’d had your fair share of run-ins with the wrong type of people before, didn’t make it any easier. Things were different in Jackson though, you didn’t have to worry about where your next meal would come from. Raiders were killed before they could make it past the walls. It was a comforting change of pace compared to how horrible the world was otherwise.
You had slipped into a dreamless sleep, curled tight around Joel’s body as the two of you slept the night away. Joel was thankful he woke up before his alarm went off, wanting to make sure he hadn’t disturbed you at all. He got dressed silently and pressed a gentle kiss to your head before heading out on patrol. Just a few houses away Ellie was deep in her own dreamland, a nightmare wracking her body as she tried to save Joel from a pack of clickers. Her screams were deafened by the agonizing screeches they let out. He was going to die before Ellie could forgive him, before they could try and rebuild the bond they had before.
“No!” Ellie nearly threw herself off the bed, grabbing onto the mattress before her body could leave the plush comfort.
It was a bad dream, nothing bad happened and she was still safe inside of Jackson. Maybe she should’ve talked with Joel a little more, and taken the time to discuss things instead of getting angry. After patrol, that’s what she would do is corner Joel so they could discuss everything.
Jesse had called Ellie out on her shit the moment he went to get her, joking that she was trying to steal his ex Dina right out under his nose. It was all in good fun as the trio went out onto patrol, Ellie and Dina breaking off to look through a large abandoned building. It reminded Ellie of the nightmare, listening to Joel’s terrified screams as he tried to escape. Shit, this was not going to be a fun day.
“We can head out a little earlier if you want, make sure Joel and Tommy are good for the swap so they can head home?” Dina could sense that Ellie was faraway, gaze locked onto the nothingness that sat in front of them.
“Yeah, I gotta talk to him tonight, maybe his wife too,” Ellie hopped onto Shimmer, grabbing the reins to make sure she wouldn’t startle when Dina hopped on the back
The ride over was stressful, the snow whipping around them harshly as Ellie tried to remember the route from memory. They had to change it recently due to a tree being knocked down during a whiteout. Shit, were they supposed to go left at the crossroads instead of right? No time to think about that, need to get to the next checkpoint. Luckily Ellie could just barely make out the hotel, hopefully Joel and Tommy were still inside.
“Shit, Jesse’s here too,” Dina’s voice was muffled against the wind, but Ellie heard her clear as day.
Why did one of the people she didn’t want to confront have to be here too? It was going to be hard enough dealing with Joel, let alone Jesse and Tommy. Ellie ducked her head as they made it into the lobby, Shimmer stopping beside the other three horses.
“No, that’s absolutely not happening, you have to find someone else,” Who was Joel yelling at? Or better yet, why was he yelling?
“Joel, we need a group to go there, you’re one of the best leaders we’ve had in years,” Shit, this didn’t sound good.
Ellie slipped off the horse slowly, tiptoeing to where the other three were hanging out. Tommy had his hands on his hips, staring at Joel exasperatedly. From the sounds of it they were sending out a group, and not a small one at that, to get supplies from somewhere. Dina pressed herself against Ellie, trying to make the pair more invisible.
“Tommy I have someone at home that will worry herself the entire time, I’ve basically lost my hearing entirely on the right side of my head, you think it’s smart to send me out there again?” Joel wasn’t willing to risk his life anymore, not after you came into the picture.
For the first few months after he and Ellie had stopped speaking Joel was reckless, he’d nearly gotten himself killed a handful of times and had his ass handed to him by Tommy just as much. Joel had prided himself on being a protector, and with nothing else to protect he didn’t see the point in trying anymore. Then you came along and Joel didn’t want to assume things were perfectly fine, he had a lot of trauma and shit to work through.
“This’ll be the last run, we just need to get these medical supplies, please,” Tommy wasn’t above groveling, not when it mattered most.
“Tommy I-” Joel was about to rebut, neither of them were fit enough to go on such a long journey before Ellie and Dina burst into the room, effectively cutting him off.
“Let us go, we’ll be able to handle the journey a lot better,” That sounded a lot better in her head, but damnit right now wasn’t the time.
Joel’s face morphed into something that Ellie hadn’t seen in years, there was a deep anger in the color of his eyes, something she couldn’t escape. Why did he look so angry that she offered to go in place of him? Or was there something else she wasn’t aware of, something she was supposed to do and never got the chance to.
“You’re gonna need a bigger group than four people, at least 8 if you’re going to get all the supplies you need,” Joel didn’t look away from Ellie as he said it, she wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or Tommy.
“Joel, c’mon it’d be smarter to send people that can handle this type of journey if you can’t,” Oh, that was definitely the wrong thing to say to him.
Jesse prepared himself for the onslaught of anger that Tommy was about to be on the receiving end of. No one ever doubted Joel could handle anything you threw at him, so to have Tommy insinuating that Joel couldn’t? It was hearsay. 
“You know what? I’ll go by myself, I have the bags on the horse already,” Joel stormed off, the sound of his boots echoing inside the empty hotel.
Tommy wanted to go after him, to tell him to stop being a dumbass and just listen to some reason for once in his life, but by the time Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs Joel was gone.
“Shit, I’m gonna have to tell his wife he’s headed off to get medical supplies on his own, shit,” Now Tommy Miller wasn’t afraid of much besides his brother's temper, when his wife was upset, and the lovely woman his brother married.
He’d only ever had to give her bad news once before, and lord did Tommy never want to go back and relive that moment ever again. That woman could be downright terrifying when she was pissed off, and this would set her off the deep end.
“If we head out now, we could catch up with Joel and make sure nothing bad happens,” It was a long shot, but right now Ellie was worried Joel would end up dead.
“All three of you go, we’ll make sure someone’s watching the gate even more for when you get back,” Sure the trip would be long and strenuous, but Ellie needed to keep Joel safe.
He’d do it for her.
◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥
Joel had been downright furious that Ellie had followed him on Tommy’s orders. He refused to speak to anyone for the first few days, sitting away by himself as everyone slept. Dina didn’t bother to try and start a conversation, she knew it was useless. Jesse filled the void with random facts that he’d found out over the years, it was nice. They only ran into a couple infected which were taken out quickly. Joel’s mind kept reverting back to you, would you be angry with him when he finally got home? Or would you shower him with love and praise at all the medicine and supplies he’d gathered.
“So we’re gonna gather everything we can carry and bring it back to Jackson,” Joel had ripped the list into three pieces, handing one to Jesse, and one to Dina.
“If you run into any raiders or infected, keep quiet and try to take them out without raising suspicion.
The trio nodded, waiting for further instructions on what to do before everyone went off to find what they needed. Joel simply stood there waiting for confirmation that they were ready to go. Dina’s eyes widened as she watched his jaw tighten, a scowl pulling across his face. Shit, the ride back was going to be even worse than the ride here.
“Ellie and I will check the basement, it would be better to have two people down there instead of one,” Dina grabbed her gas mask just in case, never knew where you’d run into spores.
Jesse headed off to the upper floors while Joel went off into the infirmary that was located on the base floor. Ellie and Dina were nearly silent as they scoured the area, grabbing anything that would be useful and stuffing their bags full of medicine. There was a lot more than she’d been expecting which was a nice surprise but something felt off.
“Is it just me, or does this place feel a little weird?” Ellie was trying to carefully place the glass vials in the bottom of her bag, making sure they didn’t break on the transport.
“No, it definitely feels a little weird, why would people leave this much medicine laying around?” Dina had been stuffing her own bag with gauze, scalpels(wrapped in fabric to prevent damage)and bandages.
“Yeah, let’s just fill the bags and get back to Joel and Jesse so we can leave,” Ellie slung her bag over her shoulders, making sure the straps were good before heading out of the basement.
The main floor was silent, not even the breeze blowing by outside could be heard inside of the building. This was even more nerve wracking than dealing with an almost pitch black basement while scouring. Jesse was the first to come down, bag protruding almost comically from his back with everything he’d found.
“Hey, you guys manage to get some stuff?” Jesse had gotten a little nervous when he thought he’d run into a clicker, but thankfully it was a dead one.
“Yeah, a lot of stuff in the basement surprisingly,” Dina glanced around the space, eyes landing on the door that Joel had gone through.
It was shut tight, which confused her for a moment before she started to rattle off the reasons he might have shut it. Being around Ellie was clearly bothering him, so maybe he was taking a few minutes to compose himself before coming back out? That seemed the most logical, Joel could handle a few infected if it came down to it.
“Hey, should we make sure Joel’s alright? It’s been a while and we need to get back on the road before nightfall,” Jesse’s worry started to sink in, Joel was always the first to come back during a scour.
“Let’s go,” Ellie didn’t wait for the other two, running towards the door that stood between her and Joel.
She stopped before her body could slam into the dense wood, turning the handle slowly to make sure it didn’t startle Joel, or whoever else could be in that room. She’d half expected to see Joel mulling over different items, questioning what would be best to take back. What she hadn’t been expecting was to see Joel sprawled against the other side of the room, hand pressed against his stomach. Shit, the last time this happened was because a raider had caught them trying to escape.
“Shit!” Ellie ran into the room, throwing herself beside Joel as he tried, and failed, to stop the bleeding.
Jesse and Dina threw open their bags, pulling out supplies to help Joel before he could lose anymore blood. His skin was clammy, sweat dripping down his face as Dina began to thread a needle. Jesse had gotten the bleeding to stop with a few gauze pads, pushing passed Ellie to get to Joel’s wound.
“Unfortunately I don’t think there was anything to numb this, so I’ll be as quick as I can,” Dina couldn’t help but notice another scar directly next to the fresh wound, they looked so similar.
“‘S fine,” Joel’s words slurred, his breathing labored as Dina began to stitch the wound.
Shit, his wife was definitely going to kill Ellie the moment they got back home and realized that Joel had gotten hurt on their watch.
“Stay with him, I’m gonna bring the horses around,” Ellie pushed off of the floor, running out of the room to get back where all the horses were tied together.
Except something caught her eye before she could grab the reins, someone was watching her from afar. Ellie glanced over at the stranger, the way their shoulders were pulled back as if in a fighting stance, a long braid trailing down their back. Was this the person that stabbed Joel? Another person ran over to the girl across the room, though this person was shorter with a buzzed head. They took off when Ellie grabbed Shimmer's reins, kicking up a small amount of dust as they did. Have to get Joel, that’s the main priority.
“Shit! Ellie!” Dina was frantic, trying to stop Joel from slipping into unconsciousness.
The sound of the horses was loud, any infected or raider would hear them in a heartbeat with the amount of noise they were making. Once outside the room Ellie tied them to the door handle and ran inside.
“What’s going on?” Ellie was terrified, this couldn’t be happening.
“The stitches ended up popping, I can’t stop the bleeding,” Shit!
Ellie reached into her bag for her switchblade, it had kept her alive for this long it would keep Joel alive for a little bit longer. Jesse had gauze pressed against the wound, keeping a solid pressure to help the wound at least slow in bleeding. This was either going to work, or send Joel into shock and give the poor man a heart attack.
Flicking open the lighter she’d stolen from Tommy all those months ago she held the flame underneath the blade. Endure and survive, the words from her favorite comic were on repeat in her mind as she waited for the blade to be hot enough to cauterize the wound.
“I’m so sorry Joel,” Ellie winced as she pulled back the gauze, the wound had stopped bleeding but the pain he was about to endure would be catastrophic.
She pressed the blade against his skin, listening to the way it sizzled and bubbled slightly. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the air before Joel’s scream echoed around them. His heart was racing, pulse jumping as the pain coursed through his body. This was how he was going to die, thousands of miles away from the love of his life, unable to tell her he loves her once more.
“Try and stay awake, please, we need to get back on the horses and get home,” It would be a longer ride back home with Joel's condition.
Dina and Jesse ran to get everything on the horses so that their only worry was getting Joel ready to go.
“Just go, please,” Joel hadn’t felt pain this horrific since the last time he’d been stabbed with a bat.
“I’m not fucking leaving you Joel,” Ellie was pissed at both herself, and at Joel.
There was no way she was going to leave him here to die, not when they had so many things to sit down and discuss. Could she possibly look you in the eye and say that Joel had died under her watch?
“Ellie, we’ve got the horses ready to go, Jesse’s going to ride with Joel and make sure that he’s okay the ride home,” Jesse, of course he’d be the one to do what Ellie couldn’t.
“We have to move him slowly, we go too fast and it’ll all be over,” Ellie couldn’t stop staring at the wound, the way the blood had started drying on his skin.
Dina restitched the wound once more for good measure, cleaning up the excess blood to try and prevent an infection from starting. Their biggest hurdle was getting Joel onto the horse without causing him anymore pain. Jesse made sure he was comfortable before they headed on their journey back home.
Ellie wasn’t sure if she was more thankful there weren't any infected or raiders on the way back, sleeping huddled together to stay safe. Joel was silent the entire time, hands clutching the saddle as they trotted along. A trip that had taken them five days previously, took nearly three weeks. Ellie’s heart broke watching the way Joel would cling to the hope that he’d see his wife again before realizing how far away they still were.
Tommy had been by the gates when they arrived, screaming at everyone to open the doors and let everyone inside. Ellie could see you pacing back and forth, your eyes full of worry as you waited for them to get inside. This was definitely putting Ellie in your shit list for sure, she couldn’t even manage to keep Joel safe during such a normal supply run.
“We’re gonna need a medic!” Tommy’s voice carried above everyone’s alerting the right people to try and get Joel the help he needed.
He’d gotten paler the longer they rode, hands shaking and weak as he forced himself to keep holding on. Just a few minutes more and he’d be back in bed with you, in the house he’d been able to call home.
“Joel!” You had started crying immediately, running over to where he was standing with Tommy.
The front of his jacket was covered in old blood, it was unfortunate because Joel really did like that jacket, it kept him warm.
“Hi baby girl, sorry I was gone for so long,” Joel pressed a weak kiss to your cheek, frowning when he noticed you’d been crying.
“Joel, I’ve been so worried,” You cupped his face in your hands, noticing how sullen his face was, how sallow his skin looked.
“Just had a little incident, nothing to be worried over,” Joel wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.
One of the doctors that worked in Jackson came to get Joel and bring him to the infirmary to make sure everything looked good and clean up anything that needed it. You refused to leave his side, hand clutching him. Ellie, along with Dina and Jesse, took all of their findings to the infirmary while avoiding Joel and you as best they could. Ellie wasn’t sure how much Joel remembered of the incident, or if he’d even tell you the truth.
“I have to admit I’m surprised, you guys made out with enough supplies to last us a few years,” People in Jackson were usually more careful about everything they did. Just because you live in paradise, doesn’t mean everything is back to normal.
“We gathered as much as we could there’s still a lot more,” It would be stupid to send them back without more backup, especially if she ran into that girl again.
“I’ll talk to Tommy about sending a different group out, if we can clean the place out we’ll be good for at least a decade or two,” It was risky, but the thought of not having to worry about sickness was nice.
Dina and Jesse bid a quick goodbye before heading to their homes, ready to wash off the last few weeks and get a good night's sleep. Ellie couldn’t move her legs, no matter how much her mind was screaming at her. She could see Joel in the hospital bed, eyes closed as he slept off whatever drugs they had given him. You were watching him, tears sliding down your cheeks as you started to accept that Joel would be okay.
“It’s my fault,” You flinched and threw yourself away from Joel.
“What?” Your brain was still fuzzy, the tears cold on your face.
“Joel got stabbed because of me, he originally didn’t want to go and get the supplies because he was worried about you. I had said that I would go in his place but he left before any of us could stop him. I’m so sorry,” Ellie couldn’t stop the way her bottom lip quivered, the tears that pooled in her eyes.
“Oh sweetheart,” You walked over to where she stood, wrapping your arms around her in a comforting embrace.
Ellie wasn’t sure what emotions were running through her, but she knew that no one had ever hugged her this way except for Joel. Her arms moved slower than the rest of her body, wrapping around your middle and squeezing. You wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, that Joel was stable and the wound was cleaned up. Before you could utter a single word you felt tears soak into the front of your shirt.
“Oh, Ellie, it’s okay baby girl,” That caused the teen to cry harder, gripping onto your shirt as the two of you stood in the middle of the room.
“I just wanted to tell him I was sorry, I thought I was too late,” Her voice was cracking on every other word, emotions getting the better of her.
“You can tell him when he’s back home in a few days, he’s gonna need some time to rest and recuperate,” You could tell from the wound that Ellie had been the one to save his life, she shouldn’t blame herself.
No words were spoken as you comforted the young teen, she needed to see that Joel was truly okay first and foremost. The doctors had made sure there was no infection before dressing the wound, and right now he was knocked out.
“I’ll come and get you personally when Joel’s back home, okay?” You pulled back from the embrace, cupping Ellie’s cheeks gently so that she could pull away if need be.
She simply nodded, eyes still shining with tears as she stared at you. Maybe it was her own way of coping but right now all she wanted to do was cuddle up in bed with a stuffed bear. You smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead before letting her run off. Joel was still asleep, snoring slightly as the medicine worked its magic on his stomach. You’d make sure that Ellie could say her apologies to Joel, maybe rebuild their relationship.
For now, you were going to sit by his side and read, it was going to be a while before Joel could go back home.
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peptothesi · 1 year
Text
A 10 indeed
Sportacus x Reader
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You braced yourself with a deep breath as you twisted the knob of your door and winced when you felt the sun shine on you as you stepped outside onto your barely used ‘Welcome’ mat. The brown thistles and clear black writing were barely worn out from lack of company in your little home besides yourself.
You sighed as you closed your door and twisted your key in the lock waiting for a little click before pulling it out again. Your door was a deep blue, one of your favourite colours, it had a nice varnish and a gold round doorknob that shined also quite clean from lack of contact with other people.
You fitted in nicely into this little town, it was lonely, yes because all the kids did was sit inside and eat sweets, you were no better but with the lack of people your own age, you didn’t really have a choice. All you could do was stay inside and read until something exciting happened in town.
And as a lifetime long citizen of Lazytown it was safe to say that nothing did.
Ever.
Until today.
You stretched your arms to their limit till your shoulders left a satisfying pop, you folded them behind you and held them against your lower back and leaned your shoulders back until you heard a refreshing crack from your bones. when news came around that Stephanie, the mayor’s niece was staying in town for the summer.
You weren’t great with people only the few that you ran into on the off chance when going to the shops for food.
Ziggy and Pixel were nice but they were always so quick to go home.
Stingy- Well stingy was stingy, he was too good to talk to you.
And you weren’t exactly on speaking terms with Trixie on the account she broke your window with a football.
But maybe a new face would be good for your health, mentally and physically.
You also really needed to go outside.
So you set out onto the maroon path and began your search for your new neighbor.
You frowned at the state of your town as you made your way to the park. Weeds everywhere, chipped painting and rusty old gates. And of course nobody in sight. You remember being young and playing with other kids and laughing while surrounded by bright happy colours and bright happy people but now you could barely talk to old friends.
“What? No!” You heard a gasp.
Speaking of old friends. You turn to see your old friend Robbie or as everyone nowadays called him ‘Robbie Rotten’. Leaning anxiously over the yellow wall, his eyes practically bulging out of his head at what appeared to be… the mayor’s niece?
You could only assume seeing as the population in Lazytown was small enough you could count everyone living their on both hands. You walk over to Robbie and watch him plead the little girl to stop messing with what you assumed to be the old mailbox.
You watched the pink little girl struggle with the thick wooden cork and chain lodged into the pipe.
“Don’t do it little girl, it will only cause trouble!” Robbie begged, but his pleads fell on deaf ears as she successfully tore the cork out of the pipe.
“No!” gasped Robbie, his hands shook at the scene.
Your head quirked to the side as you watch her toss the cork to the side and begin pulling away the long yellow weeds jamming up the wheel.
Robbie’s cries of “No!”s and “Leave it alone!”s filled your ears as you watched her work her way through the she huffed and groaned but she finished up in a matter of seconds.
Well what do you know, she’s a healthy kid.
You quirked your head to the side as you watched Stephanie pull out a long small tube from her matching pink bag, she smiled to herself.
“What! No don’t do it no no no no!” Robbie said hurriedly.
“What is she doing?” You questioned not understanding exactly what was going on, that old mailbox hadn’t been used in a long time so you weren’t exactly sure what she was expecting.
“Y/N” Robbie gasped, grabbing onto your shoulders cowering behind them “ you got to stop her!”
You look back to the old mailbox and scoffed before turning your head back to Robbie in an effort to comfort him.
“Robbie that mailbox is older than everyone in town put together it won’t work“ you stated.
“Please work!” Stephanie prayed, an excited smile decorating her face as she dropped the tube into the pipe.
“No no no no no no no” Robbie chanted, digging his long fingers into our shoulders.
You watched unimpressed and shaking your head as the girl began to pull the lever back before opening your mouth again “Robbie I’m telling you nothing will-“.
Your eyes widened as you watched the tube fly into the air, your mouth became dry as you watched it disappear into the clouds.
“No!” Robbie screamed, watching it disappear into the blue sky.
Stephanie let out an amazed ‘Wow’ in contrast to Robbie’s frustrated growl. Stephanie focused on the tube but Robbie snapped his glare from the tube to her.
You raised your hand to pat Robbie’s hand, that dug into your shoulder much more lightly thank god, in your own sad attempt to console him.
“Maybe it won’t work?” You tried, Robbie nodded trying to make the best out of this ‘worst’ situation.
Robbie let’s go of your shoulders and begins to gesture with his hands, speaking in a reassuring tone to himself.
“And- And maybe he’s quit all the superhero business!” He laughed, you nodded in agreement.
Although now that you think about it.
Where’s is that tube going?
Who is that going to?
Gears churned in your head as Robbie’s psychotic laughing filled your ears. You look up when Stephanie gasps just to see her barely catch a blue paper aeroplane in her hands looking confused.
“What’s that?” She questions out loud.
“What! No!” Robbie exclaimed his hand gripping back into your and he stuck to your side again.
You watched as Stephanie unfolded the plane quickly her eyes darting across the page as she read out.
“Help is on the way!” She beamed.
“Help? What help? Who-“ you were cut off as the wind grew stronger and a shadow began to cast over the town you looked up and gasped.
A large blue, red and white airship cruised in leaving you, Robbie and Stephanie with dropped jaws.
It was 100 times the size of Lazytown! You could see faint outlines of hatches and holes on the bottom as you watched the ship stop at least 50 ft above your heads.
And just when you thought you had seen enough, your eyes darted to a small hatch that sprang open from the bottom of the airship and out fell a flash of blue.
You flinched as the blue came closer to the ground, you definitely thought whoever it was supposed to be got squished and now the new girl definitely got traumatised.
But instead of a squish and crack you heard feet, you look up to see the blue was actually a person who somehow landed perfectly on his feet, he stood proudly and happy with his hands on his hips in on the yellow wall surrounding the area.
He didn’t stop for long, he ran on the wall before jumping and flipping through the air, twisting his body gracefully through the air like as if he was made of rubber.
You look to Robbie for context but he just watched horrified at the blue man’s impressive moves and sourly see him once again landed perfectly on his feet but next to Stephanie who looked happy and not confused or traumatised at all.
You eyed the blue man up and down, he was wearing blue pants with a matching blue sleeveless jacket tied together with a logo that matched the buckle on his belt and a white shirt both clung to him nicely, he sported a blue and white hat that hid his hair and ears with matching armbands.
He was tanned and had a pointed moustache on his upper lip which were styled into two perfect points, he had defined cheekbones and from what you could tell blue eyes and dark eyebrows which supported the dark sideburns of his hair that peaked from under his hat, which made you assume he was a brunet.
Your eyes couldn’t help but go for seconds and wander eyeing up and acknowledging the fact that his clothes fitted his athletic body very well, like how his blue pants hugged his strong thighs perfectly. You almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from how his white shirt clung to his large, strong, tan biceps.
You didn’t have to look to see that Robbie was not impressed by your behaviour.
Especially when you wiped your chin and mouth of any drool that may have pooled out. Which made him gasp in a horrified tone and almost gag letting loud retching noises out from his throat.
But you did not care in the slightest.
You were so happy you came outside today.
“Are you number nine?” Asked Stephanie raising a pointed finger at the handsome blue man.
“Nope!” He smiled shaking his head, turning around and point at his jacket “I’m number ten!”.
Oh a ten indeed.
“Another one?!”
There were more of him? Oh! Maybe the mailbox could always do that. You wonder if you’ve met another him. We’re you friends? Robbie knew him surely you did too.
You were pleasantly surprised to hear his voice, it was more high pitched that you thought but he had an Icelandic accent which honestly made your cheeks heat up.
“My name is Sportacus” He introduced holding out his hand which Stephanie took happily before her hands met her hips “I’m Stephanie, please to meet you.”
“Sportacus” you muttered, that was a weird name but not a bad weird necessarily, it rolled off the tongue like warm honey.
“Sportadingus more like” you heard bitterly from Robbie.
You swat your hand at him arm making him let out an overdramatic screech.
You watched as the hero and little girl turn to you, most likely investigating the unnecessarily loud noise.
Robbie managed to duck behind the wall and not be seen, but you weren’t behind the wall. You stood out among the yellow paint and frankly you were not going to hide behind the bench beside you.
But it was too late anyways, Stephanie and Sportacus had seen you and were jumping their way over to you, Sportacus managed to get another flip and twist in before standing before you with Stephanie at his side smiling at you in all her pink glory.
You chuckle nervously “That um- That wasn’t me?” You explain playing with your index finger “That was- that was a bird! Yeah a bird! You just missed it! It was a big, purple and pink, loud, dramatic bird!”
You could hear Robbie scoffing offendedly on the other side. But you didn’t care your awkwardness managed to bring a hearty chuckle from Sportacus’s lips, which made your chest tighten yet you felt light as a feather, it was as if you could float away that minute.
“Hey! You’re Stephanie I’ve been looking for you. I’m Y/N I’m one of the residents here.” You introduced. “I wanted to say welcome to Lazytown.”
Stephanie smiled and waved politely at you “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, this is Sportacus!”
You smile in response “It’s a pleasure to meet you”
You felt yourself lighting up as he reached for your hand hanging lazily by your side. You felt as if you were floating again at the way your palm was met with the warmth of his hand. Enclasping your hand in his warm, strong, tanned and calloused ones as they cupped your hand as if you were precious.
“I can assure you the pleasure is all mine” you breathed out dreamily, ignoring the very obvious gag of disgust from Robbie.
From the corner of your eye you could see Stephanie’s confused look to the ominous sound, but you couldn’t pry your gaze from the blue eyes pouring into your soul for what felt like decades.
You could almost see yourself in his pupils and almost feel him studying every detail on your face. Your free hand came into contact with the ball of contact between you both and cupped his hands with yours almost lacing fingers.
Stephanie coughed awkwardly because in what felt like decades was in fact seconds and this handshake of politeness was indeed seconds longer than it needed to be.
And it really was but you both reluctantly pulled away, your hands twitching at the cool air hitting your skin without the protective warmth of stronger ones, you look away as you both clear your throats letting the tension die down.
“Are you a superhero?” Stephanie pried asking him with glee.
You looked at him with a raised confused brow as he held his hand up pinching the air between his thumb and index finger whilst adjusting Stephanie’s choice of words.
“Lets just say an above average superhero” he smiled, looking at Stephanie with soft eyes, resting his hands back on his hips.
“Really?” You asked, a genuine nod came your way in response. You were speechless but somehow not surprised you pursed your lips and nodded in a content way.
“That’s really interesting” you began, noticing the pink ends of his ears showing from under his hat, you smile swaying your body where you stood “This town could use a cool above average hero, so I suppose we got lucky then huh?”
You winked very much enjoying the way Sportacus’s face flushed pink as he scratched the back of his neck ,not 100% sure what to say, while Stephanie nodded in agreement with you.
You heard a cry for help from the park and recalled the voice as Stingy, one of the few kids in town.
“ Someone needs my help! I’ll be right back” Sportacus excused himself and jumped away flipping out off sight.
You sighed dreamily as your eyes followed his every move, Stephanie stood beside you bouncing on the tips of her toes her hands shaking in glee, looking excited that her plan had worked “Number ten is so cool!”
“Uh huh, he is definitely a ten” you muttered under your breath.
“What was that?”
“Hah? Nothing!”
(I got really lazy at the end)
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agentmarcuspike · 11 months
Text
"i crawl home to her"
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“And I was burning up a fever, I didn’t care much how long I lived. But I swear I thought I dreamed her, she never asked me once about the wrong I did."
synopsis: after being stabbed, joel floats in and out of consciousness, between then and now, before and after, and his two daughters, both saving him in their own ways.
cw: time jumps, descriptions of pain and injury, grief w/c: 1.3k
playlist 🎶 moodboard 🖼️
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When Sarah was little and cried because she’d scraped her knee, Joel always wanted to cry too. He couldn’t of course, and he didn’t; he shushed her gently, telling her she’d be okay, however big or small the hurt was, while trying to absorb her pain through his fingertips, carefully brushing her brown curls away from her face.
But while her face contorted in the most pain her little body had experienced in the short duration of her life, he couldn’t help but shamefully feel like he had failed her. He could have been quicker, caught her, told her to be careful yet again. Every time he’d put a bandaid on, kiss it better, and she would quickly move on, and every time he’d file the accident into his mental folder of reasons why he was a bad parent. 
But then she’d smile up at him, amber eyes full of awe, and he’d forget all about it.
One time on Sarah’s birthday, she must have been three or four, she had insisted on blowing out her birthday candles by herself. She got two on her first blow, but on her second puff of air, she leaned too far over the flame, and Joel’s hand instinctively reached out to shield between his daughter and the fire. He burned his hand, but didn’t pull back until his other hand had moved her out of the way. 
Joel softly whines as the memory is replaced by a similar burning, this time in the form of a sting in his midriff. He can feel someone scuffle next to him, he thinks it might be his daughter, but his eyelids refuse to open. All he wants is to look at her. The feeling of not knowing what’s going on, the urge to be in control, of knowing his kid is safe, builds in him, and he fights with his body to open his eyes. 
Through a squint, he can see she’s kneeling next to him, pulling at a thread going down into his stomach. He tries sitting up to look at what she's doing, even though the unmistakable agony of a needle piercing through his skin over and over speaks for itself, but engaging the muscles in his abdomen sends a wave of nausea through his body, and he groans, lying back down, as the pain whisks reality away from him again. 
Sarah was 10 when she decided to take up soccer. Both Joel and Tommy had tried talking her out of it, seeing as it was no less than the fourth hobby she’d wanted to try out that semester, but like always, she didn’t take no for an answer. 
So soccer it was.
Joel would take her out in the back garden to practice. They would mostly shoot penalty kicks at each other, and Sarah quickly decided she didn’t like being goalie, so Joel would stand in front of the make-shift goal he’d built for them using left-over plank from a job, while Sarah shot the ball at him. 
In the beginning, he would let her score every now and then, just to boost her confidence. But after a couple of weeks he found his body tender and sore from devotedly throwing himself to the ground over and over again to keep her focused kicks from landing the ball right in the net every time. She was getting really good.
Sometimes Tommy would join their little matches. Unlike his older brother, Tommy had actually played in his youth. Joel remembered going to his games growing up, feeling both pride and jealousy at the crowd of parents and other on-lookers cheering his name as he celebrated goal after goal out on the green. 
On a particularly sunny Saturday, the three of them were outside kicking the ball around as usual. Tommy and Sarah were both aggressive on the pitch, the uncle in general less careful than the dad, dribbling around his niece, playing dirty, shoving her to the ground. Sarah would laugh and get right back up, while Joel would sigh at the thought of getting the grass stains out of her brand new light wash jeans. 
In a moment of Joel’s distraction, while he looked towards the house trying to remember whether they were out of laundry detergent, Sarah decided to boot it, landing the ball directly into the side of Joel’s face. Between the ringing in his ears subsiding and the pain in his head increasing, he found himself pretty impressed with, and slightly proud of, the power in his daughter’s kick.
23 years later and his ears are still ringing; a sound he briefly revisited immediately after deciding his life without her was a worthless one. It might as well be three seconds later the way his head is aching, pounding, throbbing with pain. Just moving his eyes hurts, but he can take it, and looks around.
He’s on the floor in the middle of a room, a staircase in one end. No windows. Basement. There’s not much else to see from his position, and trying to sit up isn’t even worth a try. He feels paralyzed, and wiggles his fingers and toes to check.
There’s no Ellie. Which is good, a voice in his head chimes in. Ellie shouldn’t be here. She should be in Jackson, with Tommy. He finds consolation in the fact that he can’t see the rifle anywhere. Consolation, but also disappointment. If she hadn’t needed it for protection, it might have been of better use to him, he thinks, gravelly revisiting the day after his 36th birthday. 
A wave of strange relief washes over him as he realizes her life is not in his hands anymore. Relief and disappointment. But Ellie’s a smart kid, he calls to mind, as the comfortable numbness of unconsciousness overpowers him again, and he falls back into reverie. 
She’s a smart kid. 
Sarah was always a smart kid. 
From the second she was born he knew. She was a late talker, but an early walker, and she didn’t have any issue communicating to the people around her what she wanted without the use of her words. She was a smart kid, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t sometimes let her heart be louder than her head.
Before soccer there was horse riding. And before horse riding there was drawing. But before she could even hold a pencil, there was swimming. Sarah swam until her lips turned blue, refusing to come up even though she was freezing. After hours in the pool, in the ocean, in the pond, Joel would have to wade out to get her, her little body clinging to his, smiling through clattering teeth. He’d wrap her up in a towel, and rub her back to get her warm, while she’d rest her head on his shoulder, exhausted but happy. 
When Joel comes to, he's wet and clammy all over, a tinge of salt from sweat or blood on his lips, but he’s no longer alone. His daughter is there, still resting on his shoulder, just like before. It’s still twenty years ago, and everything is fine. His inner soliloquy tells him this is it, this is the moment, this instant is all he has, all he ever has had and ever will have. His daughter, safe, in his arms. At the end of the day, his suitcase with memories of her may not show up at baggage claim, but the allegory isn’t even relevant anymore. Planes haven’t flown for decades. 
A jet plane couldn’t have woken Joel up thirty years ago, and when his daughter was born he had to force himself away from being a deep sleeper. Sarah would still have to wake him even though his alarm had been blaring for ten minutes. “Dad, wake up!” she would shout at his bedroom door. And at the sound of her voice, he would jolt awake. He can hear it now. “Dad, wake up! Wake up! Joel! Wake up!”
It’s not Sarah. But it is his daughter. And her voice pulls him in.
“Joel, wake up!” 
She pushes a blade into his hands, alarm in her voice. And while he can only catch every other word of her warning, he gets the gist of it. 
Danger.
He grips the knife. It’s time to come back. His kid needs him.
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a/n: i love pain. hope you like flowery language, cause i do. don't know what the market for father daughter angst is like atm, but i will always be a whore for woe, so you better eat up. thanks for reading xx
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idontknowreallywhy · 8 months
Text
Tried but failed to reach a conclusion on what I’m loosely calling the paint mystery but the majority of the chapters have deviated so wildly from any kind of plot that I may have to rethink whether it’s a story or just a collection of scenes.
Unrefined, unedited previous bits for reference:
Bit the first
Bit the second
Bit the third
The interlude after the third where I lost control of the characters and everyone went a bit nuts
Now, Bit the fourth which was supposed to be the end but that still eludes me… ALL the thanks to @astranite @womble1 and @sofasurf for the beta reading and suggestions and encouragement and to the Thunderfam generally for being a friendly safe community to practice a new thing within.
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Light
A rush of harmonics drowned out Two’s steady hum as her sister raced up beneath her and barrel-rolled overhead before shooting off into the Californian twilight. Virgil watched as her vapour trail angled up, up, up and over backwards before taking a steep dive and spiralling back towards where he and Gordon watched in various shades of amusement and baffled awe.
“How is he still conscious?” Gordon murmured. “I’d be either sick… or dead. Ugh… nope, definitely dead.”
Virgil watched as his elder brother steered the rocket plane into the vertical zigzag he recognised as the signature move of the ‘Vomit Comet’ Scott had piloted for the trainee astronauts during his 6 month NASA secondment from the Air Force.
“He doesn’t have a… normal relationship with G force, Fish, you know that.”
As if to prove the point, One screamed past them, spinning, and doubled back to overtake at a distance which set Two’s proximity sensors blaring.
Again.
Virgil cringed and covered his ears.
John’s wry smile materialised in front of them. 
“Aunt Val is going to be inundated with emails from the alien spotters again isn’t she?”
Virgil snorted. Then sighed.
“Should we… you know, rein our dear flyboy in a little?”
There was a delighted snicker in the background as John coughed uncomfortably.
“He couldn’t doooo it” came the familiar singsong voice of Virgil’s digital niece. John, who now appeared to be heavily focused on brushing non-existent dust from his baldric, frowned slightly.
“I did open a comm with him, yes.”
“And?”
“He was… whooping, Virgil.”
It was Gordon’s turn to snort. He looked up from his tablet where he’d already accessed the usual conspiracy theory websites to check for new flying saucer sightings over Arizona.
“What, Scott? Pfft, seems unlikely”
John raised an eyebrow and patched in the audio from One’s cockpit.
Virgil’s breath caught in his throat as he was accosted by a sound he hadn’t heard since his brother was a teenager. Warm, hearty, unfettered laughter punctuated by… yes, that could only be described as a whoop… and then an elated giggle. 
Virgil was aware that to most people sound didn’t have colour but it was second nature to him. Scott’s usual speaking voice was a familiar steely blue, rich and dependable. It could deepen to almost navy if he was angered or concerned, or gain highlights of cerulean when he was amused or speaking affectionately. Now it was as if an arc of blazing summer sky was overlaid on the late evening clouds ahead of them, marred only by the static effect of the comm. Virgil was overwhelmed by a sudden longing to hear his brother laughing properly, truly, untainted by digital interference and simultaneously afraid the opportunity to do so would never arise.
Nobody moved, not waiting to break the spell. Then One did it for them, as her pilot pushed her into yet another feat of aerobatic madness and her own burning white squeals of delight muffled those of the man at the controls.
John muted the feed. Virgil releases the breath he was holding and swallowed, glancing at Gordon whose jaw had almost parted company with his face, his tablet hanging from a limp hand, his mission of winding up the ufologists forgotten. 
It was sobering to realise how infrequently a website tracking the rare and precious phenomena of happy-carefree-Scott would be updated. He met John’s eye and inclined his head. He couldn’t intervene either. Drop kicking a puppy would be less morally questionable.
“How’s his fuel?”
John’s gaze shifted upwards as a graceful sweep of his left hand obviously brought up some kind of display and a swift flick of the right closed something else down. Virgil was momentarily distracted by the image of his elegant brother conducting a symphony orchestra from space, his attention snapping back as he noticed the slight furrow in John’s brow.
“Low, I take it?”
“At this rate he’ll drop into F tank in about 10 minutes. Which will get him home if he flies in a straight line…”
“If.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s F tank when it’s at home?” Gordon had abandoned his tablet and was observing his elder brothers’ with overt curiosity.
John rolled his eyes. Virgil bit his lip and radiated guilt. Scott had never been told about that particular upgrade to his ship and it always made him uneasy to keep such a secret but the secrecy was necessary for it to work as intended.
“Gordon you have to swear to keep this to yourself… but you remember all those times when the paragon of caution that is our big brother has reassured us his fuel supply was “Fine” when One was actually running on fumes?” 
More like the distant memory of fumes in some cases. His little brother of course knew all too well because he’d flown enough missions himself to take fuel to whatever godforsaken location Scott had stranded himself in.
“Well… Brains and I installed a little extra tank about which the fuel gauge is ignorant and so is One’s primary pilot.”
Gordon appeared to ponder this for a minute.
“Won’t that just make him believe he really can fly on fumes?”
“Precisely what I said” John threw a hand in the air. “I had suggested a flow rate limiter instead, so she can’t do more than Mach 6 once the gauge gets below a certain level”
“But that’s slower than the Big Green Mom Bag!”
“Oi!” the Mom Bag’s pilot objected “But, yes. Can you imagine what his reaction would have been if…” Another screech of scram jets announced One’s return from who knew where and she decelerated with a shudder to match Thunderbird Two’s more sedate pace, flying above and just a nose ahead with her pilot looking down at them and flipping a cheeky salute. Virgil nudged the comms open again:
“Having fun, you big show-off?”
Scott’s hologram appeared, all shark-like grin and wildly dilated pupils. Virgil found himself leaning back into his chair, slightly intimidated by the intensity of his sibling’s manic expression.
“Well?! What are you going to PLAY?!”
Three younger brothers performed a perfectly synchronised double-take.
“P-play?”
“The concert, short stuff! What are you going to play in the concert? You should play that one that that goes ba-da-da-da da da ba-da-da-da da da da dum…” and then One was spiralling off again in a roar of jet engines, her pilot’s hologram blurring into incomprehensibility from the vibrations and leaving his younger brother blinking in confusion.
He shut off the comm before it gave them all a headache. At some point prior to the spontaneous post-tornado-rescue singalong in the school hall, their old teacher Ms Knighton had accosted Virgil and persuaded him to be the guest soloist at a benefit concert she was already planning to fundraise for disaster relief in their hometown. ‘Persuaded’ wasn’t quite the right word. He wasn’t aware that he’d actually been given any kind of an option. The woman was a tidal wave of organisation and he’d been well and truly swept along.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about it anyway. He’d not played in front of anybody but family since their Mom had passed and he hadn’t planned to either, for all that the idea gave him a tiny flutter of anticipation. He’d been meaning to send an apology citing work commitments later that week.
THIS was what had got Scott so excited?
He squirmed guiltily as he’d begun to theorise that his renowned flirt of a brother had encountered an old flame during the course of the evening and that was what had caused the adrenaline spike. But, it seemed Scott wasn’t celebrating for himself at all. This vanishingly rare level of joy from his big brother, was on HIS behalf?
He suddenly pictured Scott sat in the front row of every little school performance, even the ones Mom couldn’t get to. He’d always put the constantly jiggling denim-clad legs down to frustration at having to sit still and listen rather than climb and run but then… maybe that wasn’t it at all?
There was the gift of the electronic piano… and that time his brother flew back from college to talk round his father who’d objected to Virgil’s nervous suggestion that maybe he could do joint honours music alongside his engineering degree. Granted, when he realised IR on the horizon, Virgil had changed his mind and decided to keep music just as a hobby but thanks to his brother, it had been HIS decision to make. 
Now he thought about it, he couldn’t think of a single occasion when he’d sat and played the lounge piano where Scott wasn’t either at dad’s desk, on the sofa, or leaning against the body of the instrument chatting or just watching with a fond smile.
Scott had been his cheerleader at every step.
“Earth to Viiiirg!” Gordon leaned over and poked him in the side of the head. “So what are you going to play then?” Virgil smiled awkwardly and rubbed away the sudden excess of water in his eyes.
“Guess I’d better figure out what “ba-da-da-da da da” is.”
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ukrfeminism · 1 year
Text
2 minute read
TW: femicide.
A dangerous sexual predator who brutally beat to death aspiring lawyer Zara Aleena as she walked home alone from a night out with friends has admitted murder.
Jordan McSweeney, 29, trailed Ms Aleena through the streets at night before launching a ferocious attack, sexually assaulting her, and leaving her to die on the driveway of a home in Ilford, northeast London.
McSweeney, a heavily convicted criminal, carried out the attack in the early hours of June 26, just nine days after he had been set free from prison.
The “savage and brutal attack” on Ms Aleena, 35, was caught on terrifying CCTV, while McSweeney had been seen following a series of other women earlier in the evening before selecting Ms Aleena as his victim.
At the Old Bailey on Friday, he pleaded guilty to murder and sexual assault, and now faces a life sentence. The guilty plea follows a series of aborted court hearings when McSweeney had avoided psychological assessments, refused to leave his prison cell, and was suspected of attempting to disrupt court proceedings.
Mrs Justice Cheema Grubb adjourned sentencing to December 14, when members of Ms Aleena’s family will outline the impact of the murder on them.
In the days following her murder, her family paid tribute to Ms Aleena as a “joy to all of us” who had set her sights on becoming a lawyer at the age of five.
“Zara was friendly, she was everybody’s friend. She was everybody’s daughter, everybody’s niece, everybody’s sister, everybody’s cousin. She was pure of heart.”
Referencing the murders of Sarah Everard and Sabina Nessa, the family said Ms Aleena “walked everywhere” and “believed that a woman should be able to walk home”. 
“Sadly, Zara is not the only one who has had her life taken at the hands of a stranger. We all know women should be safe on our streets. She was in the heart of her community, ten minutes from home”, they said. “In a savage, sickening, act she was murdered by a stranger.”
At an earlier hearing, prosecutor Oliver Glasgow KC said the attack happened at around 2.45am when Ms Aleena was minutes away from reaching her home following a night out with friends.
He said McSweeney caused the “violent death of Zara Aleena who was attacked in the early hours of the morning of June 26”, saying she was “a lone female late at night making her way home, a woman who stood no chance”. 
“Emergency services were called after her body was discovered in a driveway on Cranbrook Road.
“She was bleeding, struggling to breathe, and had clearly sustained serious head injuries. She was also partially naked.
“The injuries she had sustained at the hands of this defendant were so severe that nothing could be done to save her.”
Ms Aleena studied law at the University of Westminster and she had recently completed a Legal Practice Course to be able to practise as a solicitor. Introducing the evidence, Mr Glasgow said: “Eyewitnesses and CCTV directly links this defendant to the savage and brutal attack on Zara Aleena.
“In the early hours, he was following and observing a number of different women. He was obviously interested in them and their movements. Tragically, for Zara Aleena, it was her on whom he became fixated.
“He is seen on CCTV to set about her on the ground. He is seen kicking and stamping repeatedly on her body.
“When the body was discovered, she was clearly already fatally wounded as a result of the onslaught.”
The court heard McSweeney was tracked to a caravan when police officers discovered a bag of blood-stained clothing and shoes.
His fingerprint was also found in blood at the scene of the attack. 
The killer, from Dagenham, refused to speak in his police interview and repeatedly refused to leave his prison cell as court proceedings progressed.
When his barrister asked for a further delay to proceedings, the judge replied: “The defendant has now had three opportunities to meet with the psychologist and he hasn’t attended on any of them. He hasn’t attended today, and I am not prepared to put the case over until November.”
The court heard he made threats to police officers after his arrest and claims to suffer from ADHD and a split personality disorder.
McSweeney has 28 convictions for 69 offences, including for assaults on police officers and members of the public.
He was released from prison on June 17, 2022, after serving his latest sentence for burglary and theft of a motor vehicle.
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dent-de-leon · 4 months
Note
Once again, throwing my Molly thoughts upon you.
Sometimes I think about the times Molly is like extra soft with kids. Like Toya and that little firbolg child. I know there was a little bit of contention with how distant he was from Kiri, but I think it made sense because he and the Nein are a travelling adventuring group sent out on a dangerous task for the Gentleman, and like that is not safe for a growing baby Kenku, no, sir.
And sometimes I think that if he were to reconcile with Aldreda and meet his niece and step-nephew, he be so fucking great with them.
Yes!! I can't get over how compassionate Mollymauk really is ;; I think a lot about how Molly tries to hide the sight of Kylre's body from Toya, to shield her from the worst of it all...
When Molly was lost and all alone in the world, it was Toya who first saved him; he followed her song back to the carnival. To his new home. Toya reminisces fondly on how they both found their voice together, were able to really connect and anchor each other.
"The newest people we've had are Mollymauk and Yasha...He came after I did. We both found our voice together. I was very scared, and he wasn't talking--and together, we helped each other learn to have fun again."
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Molly only lived a very short two years. In some ways, I imagine he still feels a bit childlike--and wouldn't be surprised if Toya still thought of herself as Molly's protector as much as he was hers. After all, she's the one who first takes him in, who tries to convince the rest of the circus he should stay. When Molly stumbles into their camp naked and shivering, looking so desperately lost and all alone? She wants the circus to keep him like a stray kitten, to make him a part of their little family.
I think Molly is able to connect so well with kids because it wasn't too long ago that he was so young and vulnerable and new to the world himself. He admits to Beau, "Oh! I just realized--I never had a childhood," and seems to agonize a bit over that loss. He recalls of his early life at the circus that, "I was a bit out of it. It's hard to remember. I wasn't speaking really. Do you have...memories, from your childhood?...It felt like that. It was all bright and more meaningful than it should be. There was just nothing. I was practically catatonic; I was barely speaking."
So it's easier for Molly to understand kids I think, because he still feels like his own childhood was just two years ago, because he's still finding his way in the world--still the Fool at the beginning of his journey.
I think about how Molly and Toya always had each other's backs. How Toya first brought him home, and then Molly picked her up in his arms and carried her away from Kylre's body. Promising her that everything would be okay. "I'm scared." "I know. It's going to be a bit rough, but it was for the best. I'm so sorry. Some people just turn. I'm so sorry...He got sick. There was something inside him. Something that made him do bad things, but it had to be taken care of. You're going to be alright."
He's gentle with her, comforting. When Jester reveals Kryle's head, Matt describes Toya as, "sobbing into your arms at this point. You feel her body shaking against her grasp." And Molly does his best to just hold on and reassure her. "I'm going to take her to the front of the boat and keep her far away from all that." Whenever Molly's being soft with Toya, I can't help but imagine it was exactly the same for Lucien with Aldreda.
As for the firbolg child, that always just breaks my heart; if this were any sort of scripted show, Molly being the one to comfort them and try to make them smile after everything, this moment of such compassion right before Mollymauk sacrifices himself...that would be a death flag if I've ever seen one. Mollymauk performing a little magic tragic to cheer up a child whose just lost everything? Completely fumbling it, but still being so earnest and warm, it made the kid happy all the same? Gifting him one of his own little trinkets, like a good luck charm?
The way Molly made sure to prioritize their comfort first, to check that he wouldn't scare them--because god, Molly's used to people only ever looking at him with fear. A devil, a demon, an outcast. But for just a moment, he's back at the circus putting on a show again, bringing a bit of joy to another lonely child? It's such a tiny thing, but it's another reminder of how much Molly's "choir practice" really means to him, how he really did try to leave every place better than he found it--
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And the thing about Kiri is...even though Taliesin admitted Molly avoided ever getting too close to Kiri because he thought they were going to lose her, it's also very much because of Molly that she even survived to begin with.
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In the swamp, Jester hears a desperate cry, and runs to help. Everyone else in the Nein try to tell her that it's a lost cause; they're not going to make it, it's too late, it's too much of a risk. Jester worries over what she should do, whether her chance to save them is already long gone.
And Molly? He's the one who makes a snap decision, who chooses then and there to go with Jester's instinct and try to protect this little creature in need. When he casts Enthrall, he ensures that they stay in the fight--and that Kiri isn't devoured right away. "Are we doing this? Well, we're doing this." It really feels like the deciding factor in whether or not Kiri was going to make it.
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Molly is just...so soft hearted, and we see that side of him a bit in Lucien too. Especially with children or someone in need, Molly's always had this fierce protectiveness about him. I think a lot of it maybe stems from Lucien's own childhood--how he always tried so hard to shield his little sister from their parents, did everything he could to give her a better life. How he tended to his older brother's wounds after what their father did to him.
I want so badly for King to get the chance to reunite with Aldreda and his niece one day, I really do think he'd still be very good with kids, and very protective of the family he has left.
It just...breaks my whole heart that Lucien ached so terribly to be a part of their life, dreamed of it every day in the Claret Orders. Always imagined he'd get to come home one day and they'd be a family again. And even as Aldreda can't stand the very sight of him, wants absolutely nothing to do with him--it makes it hurt all the more that her other child clearly wants to know Lucien. He looks so excited to meet someone who looks just like his mom!! He gives Lucien a little wave before Aldreda sends him away! It just...really hurts to think that even though Aldreda herself turned him away, at least one of her children still wanted Lucien in their lives.
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I can see Lucien's little niece and nephew maybe finding King one day, really wanting to get to know him--even though Aldreda wanted to burn that bridge. I don't think it'd ever stop them from being curious, from wondering why they've never met anyone from their mother's family or past. But when they're older, I can see them wanting to reach out to Kingsley, to reconnect. Especially if their mother is still as unhappy as she seemed that day.
I genuinely think the most tender moment we ever see of Lucien is when he tries to reach out to his niece for the first time. When he sees this baby tiefling that looks so much like his dear sister, the tiny bumps of her horns, her little round face...you can tell he's trying to be so very gentle and ginger with her, but the very moment he reaches for her, Aldreda reels back in disgust.
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And it's his scars that make her react like that. The blood hunter scars from all the times he let himself get hurt chasing the desperate hope that he could ever see his sister again. That's just haunting. Of all things, it's Lucien's own pain and trauma that terrifies and reviles his sister the most. The final straw that makes him unworthy of being family to her. It's Aldreda seeing him as nothing but a stranger, a monster, another reminder of the horrific nightmare she always tried to forget.
"And what could you do for me? For us? You've been ignoring me for years, and at first it hurt, but then I came to realize it could be for the best. I could forget our family, leave the nightmares behind, make something good of my own...I don't recognize you anymore. Who knows what kind of danger you've brought to our doorstep just by coming!...You can't even tell me what you are now or what you've become!...It's too late, Lucien. It's too late. Maybe years ago, I don't know...I can't think properly. Just looking at you stirs up such evil feelings in me. It isn't fair, I know, but it's true. I look at you and I hear distant screams, I see again our brother's face leering, bloated with unnatural life."
Aldreda stabs him in the heart with every confession, every admission that her own brother terrifies her. That he just feels like some other terror of the past come back to haunt her. Lucien gave everything to try and spare his sister from their cruel parents and a bloodthirsty hag, but it still wasn't enough. It was never enough. He isolated himself, risked his life again and again, did whatever he thought was necessary to keep his sister safe--baring the scars of it all alone for years, trying to shoulder all that pain himself--and still. In the end...he's alone.
I think about Aldreda demanding, "How? How could we be a family again? I don't even know you." And Lucien's heartbroken promise that, "But you will know me. You could." And what hurts even more? I could see that same exact conversation playing out years later, between her and King. I want them both to have that kind of closure so bad. I want a oneshot where we get to see King meet his family again for the first time. A world where Aldreda would let her brother hold her child. A time where they can finally reunite and start to understand each other--
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Yesssss we love the tuggoffelees brainrot!
What's your hcs for how they met/got to know each other as friends and/or more than friends?
omg i'm so sorry this took me forever to get to but the tuggoff brainrot is still happening!!!
so my main canon idea of how the two of them met and became friends is actually relatively simple!!!
Bustopher brought Mistoffelees and Victoria to the Junkyard when they were young cats, pretty much just after Macavity left with Bombalurina and Demeter.
it was partially to give his niece and nephew a new start, and to meet new friends, but Bustopher knew about Mistoffelees' magic, and knew that if he didn't try to put his nephew in a safe place, he would get hurt.
Tugger, at that point, was honestly at his lowest. He was healing from Macavity hurting him, he wasn't speaking to Munkustrap or Deuteronomy, and was contemplating leaving the Jellicles, because he could feel their stares and whispers.
but then he met Mistoffelees.
He actually found him as he was leaving the Junkyard. Tugger had made up his mind, and was sneaking out to leave once and fore all, and found found Mistoffelees practicing magic in a little secluded alcove. Mistoffelees was terrified. He heard briefly about the entire Macavity situation, and was hiding his magic, so having the youngest son of the Jellicle Leader find him made him believe he was about to be tossed away.
Instead, of course, Tugger swore to keep his secret, and even told Mistoffelees that he had been going to leave the Junkyard. They talked for hours, until the sun began to rise over the Junkyard, and the two of them were now the best of friends with a bond that no one else understood.
They were absolutely and completely inseparable, the only other cat who knew why was Victoria, because Misto couldn't keep anything from his twin, and Tugger adored the white queen like she was his own sister.
Just like how Tugger encouraged Mistoffelees with his magic, Mistoffelees was the one who encouraged Tugger to actually sit down and talk to Munkustrap and Deuteronomy.
Their move from platonic friendship to a romantic relationship was gradual, but obvious to the two of them.
There wasn't really an "oh... oh" moment for them, because they had a feeling that the other was it for them. That this cat who had been by their side through the hardest time, this cat who knew their deepest secrets, that they would one day dance together.
It just happened at their own pace, and they just slotted together into their romantic relationship so easily it was almost ridiculous that they hadn't done it sooner.
I just love Tugger and Mistoffelees supporting each other, and knowing the other's worst fears, and being able to help them and give each other the confidence they need, not just Tugger being the only one to build up Mistoffelees.
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stars-of-kyber · 8 months
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So what story we should thank @mimix007 for? I want to know more about it 👀
Well since you asked... It's done, wanna see the whole thing?
This is based on THIS video which I sent to Mimi like "This is something Hyacinth would most certainly do" and she proceeded to push me to write it. Blame her! (And @kateandanthonyaremyparents and @harnitbee for all the support!)
This is not even Kathony. It's just Hyacinth being a manic. some Bridgerton Chaos and some sibling love.
Banana! (Enjoy!)
____________________________________
"Hyacinth." It was amazing how her older brother could make just three syllables sound so filled with suspicion and warning, even through the phone.
"Yes, Anthony?"
"Edmund just mentioned you're planning a sleepover with the little ones on Friday." 
"I am." 
"All of them?" 
"Yes." 
"Why?"
"Do I need a reason to get together with my little niblings?" She asked innocently. Next to her, Gareth let out a muffled snort and she elbowed her husband in the stomach. 
"There are seventeen of them ranging from fourteen to one." She did not care for the accusation in her brother's tone. "What are you up to?"  
"Why do I have to be up to something?" She rolled her eyes, ignoring Gareth's amused raise of an eyebrow. "We're gonna get snacks and watch a nice film and just have some auntie fun time." 
"Because you usually don't have any good intentions like this without a reason." 
"I'm sorry, are you saying I do not love my nieces and nephews enough to spend some quality time with them?" Hyacinth gasped dramatically, mouthing 'hush!' to her husband, who had buried his face in his hand to keep back his loud cackling.  "I hang out with them all the time!”
"With two or three at a time. Not all seventeen at once!" 
"Honestly Ant." She rolled her eyes, although her brother couldn't see it from across the line. "Are you going to keep the kids from coming to my hangout?"
"Of course not." Anthony scoffed as if the question was a stupid one. 
"I'm giving you and Kate a free night out. Just enjoy. I promise the kids will be safe with me and Gareth."
Anthony let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "I'm going to regret this." He mumbled under his breath, probably speaking to himself. 
"Would you like me to pick them up? Maybe around 6?"
"Kate and I will drop them at yours." 
"I'm also accepting financial contributions to order some pizza!" 
"Of course you are." Her brother snorted. "See you Friday." 
"See you!" Hyacinth ended the call, shoving her phone in her pocket and turning to her husband with a triumphant grin. "Everything's going according to plan." 
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Gareth asked, eyeing the yellow and blue pile in their shopping cart. 
"Please, it will be fine." She waved her hand in the air absentmindedly. "Augie, Ned and Bellie are all in. All the planning is done. Don't you want some harmless revenge?" 
"I mean..." Gareth stretched the back of his head, his gaze shifting from the shopping cart to his wife, who was grinning a little maniacally at him. 
"Come on, you remember how he was when we were dating." Hy wrapped her arm around his, weaving their fingers together. "Don't you want to get back on him, just a little bit?"
"He was kind of annoying." 
"Kinda?! Your memory is failing you in your old age." Hyacinth grinned with her husband's scoff. 
"Right, the ancient age of twenty-three." He rolled his eyes playfully. 
"I promise it will be all very safe." She blinked charmingly up at him, the way she knew Gareth had a hard time resisting. He just sighed, leaning down to kiss her grinning lips.
"You're a menace." He shook his head. "And you know I'm in. As long as Anthony doesn't hate me for it."
"Please, Anthony would never hate you." Hy rolled her eyes, practically bursting with excitement. "You're his favourite in-law. Plus I'm sure he'll find it all very funny, afterwards. Are we set?"  
"I think we're gonna need some extra nerfs."
"That's the spirit!"
Hyacinth loved her siblings, every single one of the seven of them, plus each one of their spouses. However, due to age differences and personality compatibilities, there were some of her siblings she was a bit closer to than others. 
Anthony was, by far, her favourite of all, although she supposed he didn't really count, in the grand scheme of sibling ranking. He had been as much a father to Hyacinth as a brother during her entire life. He had been to every recital, game, parent-teacher conference, graduation or otherwise big event in her life. He was there in the bad times as well, with a stern look that turned soft very quickly and a shoulder to cry on. He had walked her down the aisle and he had been the one to share the traditional father-daughter dance while Gareth swayed from side to side with Mrs Danbury across the dance floor. 
It was no wonder to anyone that Anthony was her favourite, and again, he didn't really count. Which led her to her second favourite sibling, Gregory. 
 Sweet, cheerful Greg was the closest to Hyacinth in age, being only two years her senior, followed by a full 6-year gap between her and Francesca. He was also the only one who had no memory of Edmund Bridgerton at all and who ended up, like her, clinging to Anthony as the father they did not have the chance to have. 
There was no doubt in the world that Hy and Greg loved each other very much, or that they were each other's favourites. And just like any other pair of siblings, they lived to get on each other's nerves. It was a way to express love. Bridgertons were pranksters by nature and the youngest ones were no exception to the rule. Besides, there was no better feeling than annoying one's older brother.
So yes, Hyacinth loved Greg, and she really liked Lucy, his sweet-natured, even if a bit control-freak girlfriend. Sure, once upon a time, the two women had had their differences but things had been explained, the air had been cleared and Hy came to care for the sweet Abernathy girl. And it was only because she loved them very much she felt entitled to a bit of revenge. 
See, she was fifteen when Mrs Danbury introduced her to Gareth, the man she'd spent the following couple of years crushing on before one of them was brave enough to make a move. Unfortunately for her, Gareth was Gregory's friend and her brother, although delighted about their relationship, decided to do what he did best. Tease her. 
Hyacinth would have been fine with it if Greg had kept his teasing to cracking stupid jokes about it every now and again, but her idiot brother wouldn't stop at something so simple. No, he had to find new, different ways to annoy her. 
Every once in a while, he'd crash their dates, invite himself over to the cinema with them, or when they were trying to have a picnic or just a fun night out alone. He'd sit between them on the sofa or send one of the kids to do so in his place.  All of that with a huge shit-eating grin on his face. 
So, all in all, Hyacinth considered it was only fair that she'd give her brother a bit of a payback for the past four years. And truly, what she was planning was just a small bit of revenge for all the bullshit she had to stand from Gregory Bridgerton. 
It had been harder to get Gareth into her plan than to get the kids involved. Her older nephews and nieces, at least the ones she knew she could trust not to blab her plan to their parents, were in before she could even finish explaining her idea. She really didn't think her other siblings would disapprove of her little prank, she was sure they would all find it hilarious, but it was better to be on the safe side of things. Besides, she did not want to sit through another lecture about how they couldn't scare Lucy away. Not when they finally had someone who could stand Greg. So she needed to stick to the ones she knew she could trust. 
Miles couldn't keep a secret from his parents if he tried. A raise of her Anthony’s eyebrow would have all the plan spilling out of his mouth in a blink. David was another Mama's boy and he'd blab before Daphne could even ask. Caroline was a gossip and the news would spread around the family faster than wildfire, therefore Amanda couldn't know because Amanda and Caroline were best friends who told each other everything. And what Oliver knew, Amanda knew, so the other part of the Crane twins duo also had to be kept in the dark. Ben's Charlie was too sweet for his own good, as just as distracted. He'd probably tell someone without even realising. And the rest of the kids were too young to take the risk. Sure, Lottie could probably keep the secret, but she wasn't risking her entire idea on the five-year-old. That left her with fourteen-year-old Augie and thirteen-year-old Ned and Belinda to help.   
So plans had been made, her siblings had agreed and by six-thirty, she had seventeen children in her flat. 
"Alright, little niblings, the plan is simple." She stood in the middle of her living room, kids filling her couch and the floor and two of them were even in Gareth's arms. "We're gonna prank Uncle Greg. Yes, Charlie?" 
"I really like Uncle Greg." The ten-year-old lowered his hand, blinking his big green eyes at her. 
"Me too." Ben's eldest son considered his aunt's words for a moment before nodding,  the agreement clearing any doubt he seemed to be having. "Amanda?"
"How?!" 
"Excellent question." Hyacinth grinned, passing the slide presentation she had made. "Do you know these?" A loud chorus of 'Yes' rang around the room. "And who are they?" 
"Minons!"  
"I love the minions!"
"Banana!" 
"That's exactly the vibe we're going for Will, keep it up." Hyacinth laughed at the little excited bouncing boy. "So everyone will get a Minion costume and one of these." She held up the Nerf gun that had been sitting on the mantle beneath the TV and she saw several pairs of eyes light up in delight. Even one-year-old little Tommy squeaked in delight, reaching out his chubby little fingers towards the toy, almost tumbling out of Gareth's arms in the process. "We're going to get dressed and then we'll sabotage Uncle Greg's date. Questions?" 
Several hands snapped up to the air. Hyacinth considered the options before pointing to Daph's youngest daughter. 
"Caro." 
"Can we keep the costumes?" 
"Yes." Amanda and Caroline high-fived each other. "Charlie?" 
"Will Uncle Greg be mad at us?" 
"Not at any of you, no." The boy seemed relieved at the answer and both Miles and David lowered their hands. "Okay, let's see, Penny?" 
"What's sabotage?" Eloise's daughter stared up at her aunt with the same green-grey curious eyes of her mother. 
"Well, it... hum... It means..." How did you explain something like that to a three-year-old? "It means we'll invade Granny's garden during Uncle Greg and Lucy's date and we'll shoot our Nerf bullets at them." 
“All of them?”
“All of them.” 
"That sounds fun." Honestly, Hyacinth expected no different response. The girl was Eloise’s kid through and through. Next to her, little Agatha nodded in agreement.
"Great! Anything else?"
"Me, me, me!" Hyacinth turned to Anthony's youngest daughter, who was waving her arm so high in the air she was nearly falling down from her perch next to her brother. 
"Yes, Lottie?" 
"Can I have two Nerfs?" 
"You absolutely can, my sweet angel." The biggest evil grin spread over the little girl's face as she laughed in delight, rubbing her hands together and Hy couldn't help but laugh back, patting Miles on the shoulder. "I'd be careful about what pranks I'd pull on that one, lads. She's got the spirit of it. No more questions? Great! Let's get this show on the road."  
"Your family is insane," Gareth mumbled, kissing his wife's cheek as he passed one of the littlest ones from his arms to hers.  
"Yes." She sighed, cuddling little Georgianna to her chest. "Isn't it wonderful?" 
When Hyacinth was six, Anthony decided to install CCTV all over Bridgerton House. He insisted that it was a big house and even if they lived in a perfectly safe neighbourhood, it was better to be safe than sorry. The most serious thing that happened that warranted the cameras was Violet using them to discover who had destroyed her favourite rosebush (it had been Colin, coming home drunk from a party). But right at that moment, Hyacinth couldn't be happier about her control-freak big brother. 
From the screen of her phone, she could see the cute little picnic her brother had set in the garden of their mother's house. They were sitting on a towel on the floor next to each other, their hands wrapped together as they talked about whatever it was they used to talk about together as they shared a plate of little sandwiches. The cameras had no sound capture, but Hyacinth didn't need to hear what they were saying, she just needed to see what they were doing. 
It was the perfect opportunity for her to set her plan in motion. The garden was fenced, which made it a controlled environment and the chance of losing a wayward niece or nephew was greatly reduced. Plus there were no other people around to become collateral damage over the prank and her siblings would probably be happy with the fact that she hadn't put their children at any sort of risk just to annoy Greg. 
Between her, Gareth and her best friend Felicity, who had very kindly offered to help annoy Greg in any way she could, transferring the children from her flat to No 5 hadn't been difficult at all. 
Hyacinth had never seen her nieces and nephews as quiet as the moment they stood in the gate that led to the garden. She didn’t even know they were capable of being that quiet. They all stood there, staring at their aunt in expectation of what was to come. Even the littlest ones seemed to understand the moment required absolute silence. Georgie was already a quiet baby on her own, watching everything around her from Gareth's lap with curious little eyes. Thomas, on the other hand, was the opposite of calm or quiet. There was very little way for Colin's child to end up being well-behaved when genetics was involved. The youngest of her niblings (so far) was contained in Felicity's arms, his little legs wiggling excitedly, kicking Penelope's sister several times as they stood there. But despite the agitation, the one-year-old hadn’t made a sound. 
"Alright, my little hellions," Hyacinth whispered as she paused with her hand on the handle. "We have to be extra silent now. Everyone remembers the plan?" Several heads bobbed up and down in excitement. "Good. Remember the signal." She raised a finger and then another and another until she had three up. "When I do this we charge. All ready?" 
"Wait!" Felicity hissed, making all the heads turn to look at her. Hyacinth started considering whatever she could have forgotten when her brother's sister-in-law pulled her phone from her pocket. She struggled for a bit to open what she was looking for one-handed while trying to keep her nephew from getting his grabby hand at it. "Okay, I'm recording. Let's do this!" 
Hyacinth grinned before pulling the garden gate open. She knew it was possible to get through the back quietly and undetected and the best ways to do it. She'd spent almost an entire year smuggling Gareth in and out of her bedroom until one night her mother emerged from her room when they were sneaking down the hallway and said, 'Honestly Hyacinth, let the boy sleep the night. There's enough breakfast for everyone in the morning.'. She promptly went back to the room, shutting the door behind her, leaving the two of them staring at each other in shock. 
For a while, she had assumed either they weren't being as subtle and quiet as they thought they were or that Greg had told on them, but Kate once let it slip it had been Anthony who had seen Gareth sneaking into her room one day he stayed over late to discuss financial matters with their mother. 
They tiptoed as close as they could until it would be too hard to hide several children dressed in yellow. She exchanged a look with her husband, coming in the rear of the group. A mad little smile bloomed on her lips when he nodded, showing her his loaded weapon. She felt like Beetlejuice right before the goth teen released him to cause his mayhem, adrenaline thrumming through her blood and reflected in every single little pair of eyes as she lifted her fingers and started to count.
Oh, this was going to be fun. 
 1... 2... 3!
The only way to explain what happened when her three fingers were in the air was utter chaos. Children broke into war cries of 'Attack!' and 'Uncle Greggy!' and 'Banana!' as they rushed forward shooting at a stunned Gregory and Lucy. Her brother had no time to react before the first wave of plastic ammo hit them. His face right at that moment was a memory Hyacinth would probably cherish forever. 
By the time the second wave hit them, Greg had managed to pull Lucy into his chest, shielding her from the blast. His eyes narrowed when they landed on his sister over the mess of minions around them and Hyacinth smiled triumphantly. He tried to order the children to stop, to ask nicely or bribe them into it, but it was difficult to get a word in and if they did listen, they seemed to be having way too much fun to stop. 
"Gareth, a little help?!" Her brother cried out but her husband just looked at the scene for a moment with his arms crossed before shrugging. 
"Nah, I don't think so. You've got this, mate." 
"You stop that, you lunatic!" Behind her phone camera, Felicity was cackling madly as she shot projectile after projectile at Greg. "Guys, come on, help Uncle Greg here." 
"Sabotage!" Charlotte cried out, eliciting a loud battle cry from the rest of the kids, who returned to their task with more vigour than before. 
It took almost two minutes for the ammo to end and at least one or two more for the roar of the kids to die down. Gregory had untangled himself from his girlfriend, who was blushing deeply as she sat on the blanket. 
"Oh, Greggy! Were you having a date?" Hyacinth's tone was so exaggerated and the smirk on her face was so big that even a child could see she knew exactly what her brother had been doing. "I'm so sorry we interrupted it." 
"Bullshit!" 
"Language, Uncle Greggy!" Vivi tutted at him, her blonde hair escaping her cap. 
"Sorry, duckling." He smiled gently at Ben's little girl before turning back with an angry narrowing of eyes at his sister. "No one likes a liar, Hyacinth." 
"You wound me, Greggy!" She placed her hand dramatically over her chest. 
"You had our nephews and nieces shooting Nerf guns at us!" 
"It's called Sabotage." Agatha explained matter-of-factly.
"It was super fun!" Charlotte giggled, bouncing up and down. 
"Aunt Hy said you wouldn't be mad at us." Charles blinked his big eyes at Gregory, who instantly softened, petting his nephew's head. 
"I'm not mad. Not at you." He shot his sister a dirty look, but Hyacinth was completely unaffected by it. 
"Perfect! Because we're having a sleep-over!" She announced, clapping her hands together. 
"What?!" 
"We're watching movies and everyone chipped in so we can order pizza." 
"Hyacinth!"
"Inside, little minions! To the TV room!" She commanded the children, who erupted in cheers, already storming to the house, elbowing each other as Felicity followed close by in order to avoid any serious fights. 
"No running!" Greg called out, which slowed them down a fracture, although some pushes were still being exchanged. He got up from his blanket gingerly, pulling Lucy to her feet before giving his sister the dirties of looks. "We were having a date." 
"Yes, it must be really annoying to have your date interrupted by someone else just for the laugh of it," Hyacinth told him, crossing her eyes in front of her chest. "I’m sure I don’t know how it feels. Gareth?" 
"Can't say I do, no."
"Yeah, it must be horrible." Lucy stood there, her gaze moving between her boyfriend and his sister and brother-in-law. 
"I think," She cleared her throat, finally settling on Greg, who had the decency to look guilty. "You might have had this coming?" 
"Maybe a bit, yes." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 
"A bit." Hyacinth scoffed. 
"An understatement, isn't it, mate?" 
"I can't believe you two went through all this work to ruin my date." Gregory rolled his eyes as the group began to make their way towards the house.
"Ruin? No, I wouldn't say that." Hyacinth smiled brightly. "You two just looked like you needed some company." 
"You dressed everyone as Minions! And the nerfs! I can't even imagine..." The two of them continued their bickering as Lucy and Gareth fell a couple of steps behind. 
"I suppose this won't be the last time?" She asked Hyacinth's husband with a little amused sigh. 
"I wouldn't get my hopes up, no." 
"Didn't think so." She nodded, watching Gregory gesticulate wildly in front of them. "Was he really that bad?"
"He's been a huge pain for the past four years." Gareth smiled at Hyacinth's laugh filled the air. "Greg's lucky he's her favourite or it could be much worse." 
"I thought Anthony was her favourite?" 
"Anthony doesn't count." Gareth shrugged watching his wife shove her brother hard. "Hey, no violence! I'm not driving anyone to the A&E tonight!" 
"She started!" 
"I did not!" 
"You so did." The bickering resumed and Lucy let out an amused chuckle. 
"These crazy plans and pranks... Is this normal?"
“They can be a bit unhinged." 
"Unhinged," Lucy repeated, blinking up at Greg's brother-in-law.
"All eight of them. Don't let Francesca fool you, she's just as bad."
"That's..."  
"Don't worry Luce. If they're letting you see their insanity, it means they like you. They're only like this when they're comfortable." Gareth assured her gently as they crossed the glass door into the kitchen. "They love each other very much and this lunacy is one of their ways of showing. You get used to it. Coming from a small distant family, I'd say it's actually really nice. The belonging and all." 
 Lucy smiled at that, her eyes trailing to the two bickering siblings. "I get that." 
"I imagined you would." He smiled as they both stood watching their respective partners arguing like children in the hallway for a moment. "But if I could offer you some advice?"
"Please." 
"I'd stay away from game nights, especially when Kate and Anthony are involved. Or Daphne and Colin. Or Eloise and Colin." Lucy looked really confused for a moment. "That's when things get really unhinged." 
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Gar."
"Lucy, I don't understand how you stand this idiot willingly!" Hyacinth's loud cry interrupted the nice moment. 
"Gareth, restrain your lunatic wife!" Gareth looked at Lucy with a raised eyebrow and a little gesture with his hands as if to say 'Case in point.'.
"Gentle hands, you two!" Gareth warned loudly before he turned to the woman he suspected would be the last addition to the Bridgerton Spouse Support Group. "Shall we rescue them from each other, then?" 
"After you." 
"Welcome to the family, Luce." 
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adammbakri · 1 year
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Mulan
Apart from that one time back in my school years, I never had to resort to violence in order to get what was my right, or in order to defend myself.  The situation rarely called for it, and generally speaking I was a very peaceful kid growing up.
“Cry if you need to! But don’t you ever let anybody hit you” was one of my mother’s repetitive counsels that almost turned into a daily morning mantra as I prepared to head out for school. But for some reason- an ultimate mystery to me- the kids who bullied me weren’t able to practice their bullying skills on me physically! They just did their best verbally, at times very aggressively,  but then went about their business seeing that I didn’t respond.  Was it the mantra?  an aura? Or maybe my contemplative nature giving off a certain intensity that pushed them away ? But all I did was sit there and stare at them. Perhaps unconsciously contemplating the inner dissonance I was slowly getting acquainted with in other kids. I was confused more than ready to fight back if I had to. In any case they all eventually left me alone unscathed.  
Except for Yusif.
I was eleven, and already enjoying my summer break to the fullest when the Disney animation Mulan had just come out! My mother bought us (Yafa and me) the VCR. A luxury we couldn’t always afford at the time, but mom always seemed to have found ways to provide. I watched and rewatched Mulan endlessly.  Becoming so obsessed, to the point where I knew it by heart. Mulan was everything I thought I wasn’t at the time. She was brave, and rebellious. Vulnerable but not weak.  She would do anything to protect who she loved, even if she had to die. I couldn’t do all that! But I had one thing in common with Mulan: I was hiding who I am in the world outside my home. Maybe that is why I loved her so much!  I was an overly sensitive and shy 11 years old boy who was alienated by the tiny world outside his safe haven.  It seemed to me that the entire village had a huge issue with my sensitivity! To me, the Ilbi’ne dwellers seemed to be on a mission to do anything they can to stop me from being “touchy”! To turn me from being “so weak and mama’s boy” into a “man”. It almost felt like the Meuzzin would finish his call to prayer one day and follow it with a special announcement to my mother:  “Emm Saleh’ stop spoiling your kid. He is too sensitive because of your over-indulgence and pampering, you will destroy him, he will will grow up to become a sassy”.  
It goes without saying I felt extremely weakened by that pressure. Ashamed by simply being me outside my mother’s household.  Almost every word I said, every little gesture I made was met with some form of criticism.  So outside became a space where I could practice my half-me existence perfectly. I would step outside the house and start a shrinking performance, morphing back into a caterpillar. Inside however, the world of my bedroom became the Universe itself! An infinity that could contain me unconditionally. Giving reins to my imagination and day dreams. A lap where my sensitivity was deemed an absolute treasure by my mother who did everything she could to nurture my creativity, and feed my imagination.   A pure, blissful existence.
For my mother, nothing was more important than my education though.  To this day, I wonder how she could afford all the English and American teachers she sent me to, who gave me private lessons at our home. There was Mark, who frequently passed gas, Steve who was usually bored, Robin who slept most of the time and only woke up when I banged the book on the table, and Liz, who assigned her niece to make us copy letters and words. I often wonder if they taught me anything at all! To make a long story short, my mother decided to move me to a new school after the summer break because the elementary school in our village was in poor condition. The garbage collectors had been on strike for too long, leaving a terrible smell everywhere, and she was dissatisfied with the overall level of education.   I welcomed the idea with open arms; leaving the village and venturing into a new world was exactly what I needed to escape those who tirelessly judged me.
Of course , due to my new obsession, mom got me a Mulan school bag for the new school year! The bag was just beautiful! Green and black, with many front and side pockets, and of course Mulan on the back! Riding her horse, holding her beautifully curved  sword, and the little dragon- her protector and inner guide- hovering around her!  I counted the seconds to wear it to school! And so it felt exhilarating when the day finally came!  
Sadly my rapture didn’t last too long! The first few weeks at school were miserable. I thought I had escaped from the bullying of the kids in my village, only to find myself being bullied for a new set of reasons: I am an outsider who didn’t have the same religious background, and didn’t speak the same dialect.  But Yusif was the worst nightmare of it all!  For some strange reason, he detested me! It’s as if Yusif’s first thought as he woke up every morning was “yayyyy it’s another day of bullying Adam” !   From stealing my stuff, to hiding them, to verbal abuse, to telling lies about me… Yusif was just one of a kind. And it didn’t help that his desk was right behind mine! I could see that his bullying could eventually lead to physical violence, but I kept praying that it wouldn’t.
Needless to say I suffered. So much. And the only thing that provided some consolation for my misery was Mulan! I would walk into school carrying Mulan, her horse, the dragon and the sword on my back! Feeling empowered. Recharged for the day! They were all mine! They had my back!  I was somewhat content with the illusion I had created that no matter what happens, as long as Mulan is in my vicinity, I am safe.  
One day, I asked the teacher for permission to use the bathroom. I must have been gone for barely ten minutes, but when I returned to my seat, to my utter horror, I saw Mulan's face and her friends' faces filled with harsh ink scribbles! My heart sank, terrified at the thought that I could never clean that ugliness away since the material of the bag where Mulan was inscribed was thick rubber. Sensing Yusif must have been the only perpetrator, I immediately looked back at him, and sure enough, he had the most disturbing smirk on his face—a mixture of triumph and cruelty. He had discovered the place where he could hurt me the most: Mulan. I wanted to scream in anguish, but I couldn't. The class was still going, and the teacher couldn't possibly allow that sort of interruption. So I resolved to hold back my tears and sat in my chair, crushed.
The bell rang.  It was the last lesson of the day. I put my stuff in my bag, closed it, carried it on my back, and without even glancing at Yusif, I exit the classroom.
I was about to cross the street and get in the car with my brother Hassan who had come to pick me up when I heard a voice from behind me. "Hey," said Yusif, as I turned to face him. "Wanna fight?" To my own complete surprise, I didn't flinch for a second. I punched Yusif so hard that his nose bled, then jumped on him like a wild animal. We both fell to the ground, and I put him under me while grabbing his neck. With our faces almost touching, I looked him in the eye and said, "Don't come near me again.". 
Tears come to my eyes as I’m writing this. Seeing Yusif’s horrified look in my mind’s eye, begging me to stop. 
Reflecting on this story now, after all those years, has given me a profound inner understanding that I will carry for the rest of my life: Yusif didn't hate me. Instead, he wanted to be me. What caused him to treat me the way he did for as long as he could was that I was a constant reminder of everything he wasn't allowed to be! 
If Yusif hadn't been hardened by the same society that judged my sensitivity and tried to mold me into their version of “man”,  he would never have done what he did to Mulan or to me. He would have been a beautiful eleven-years-old boy occupied with thoughts of fairy tales or football, cried when he needed to, and filled the air with his laughter day and night. But he couldn't. They had stolen his right to be himself: a child.
Was it Yusif I hit?  or the world that made him who he is not? The same world that tried so hard to turn me into a Yusif. But failed miserably.  
Yusif never bothered me again.  
I couldn’t clean the bag but I still wore it to school. My Mulan was still there after all! 
despite the scribbles… 
Adam
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minniethemoocherda · 2 years
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Sins of the Past: Forgotten Faces
 Summery: A collection of drabbles set in my modern au where the Bad Batch raise Omega after rescuing her from the abusive hands of their mother. In this chapter Obi-Wan is picking up Omega and Numa from school, when he comes across an old friend. 
ao3
Obi-Wan waited patiently outside the gates of Alliance Elementary for his nieces to finish their last lesson. Well, Omega was technically his sister-in-law but since one of his many brother-in-laws was her guardian, niece felt more appropriate. 
He and Cody had both agreed that after practically raising their younger siblings neither of them wanted to raise any children of their own. But that didn't mean Obi-Wan didn't love being an uncle. He only wished that it was safe enough to be an uncle to two more children. 
"KENOBI!" An indescribable yet instantly recognisable accent rang out across the school yard, yanking Obi-Wan from his thoughts. 
He stood in shock. No, it couldn't be. Obi-Wan hadn't heard that voice since it had offering to sell him bathtub moonshine at a college party over two states away. 
But when Obi-Wan turned around, he was face to face with the grin of the one and only Hondo Ohnaka. 
"What are you doing here?" Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself from asking as Hondo dragged him into a hug. He smelt as though he hadn't bathed since they had last met almost a decade ago. 
"Rude, to greet your ex after all these years." Hondo replied in that free flowing laugh of his. 
"We never dated." Obi-Wan corrected, shoving the man off him because as far as he was concerned, a drunken one night stand did not count as dating. 
"Then best friend it is!" 
"You're not my best friend Hondo." 
"Well, best college friend then?" 
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to argued but reluctantly admitted to himself that meeting Hondo had been one of the only fun things to happen at those wasted months of his first stint at college. 
"Fine. Still, you never answered my question." Obi-Wan reminded, praying that the answer wasn't to sell drugs to children. 
"It is not obvious? Why I'm here to pick up my daughter of course!" 
Honestly, Obi-Wan would've preferred the drugs. The idea that Hondo had... procreated was somehow even worse. 
"You have a child?" Obi-Wan asked, wondering if he should arrange an emergency therapy meeting. 
"Yes! Well, not biologically speaking. But she is mine none the less!" Hondo said sounding oddly proud. "What about you eh? Get a bun in someone's oven?" 
"No I'm here to pick up my nieces." Obi-Wan glanced at the classroom doors that were still infuriatingly shut. The bell couldn't not ring fast enough. 
"Ah yes of course! You finally married that old high school crush of yours!" 
Obi-Wan's mouth struggled for words  because how on earth did Hondo know that. Before he could ask him as such, the school bell finally rung put across the playground. Children barrelled open the front doors, in a mad dash for freedom. Including his nieces Numa and Omega, who nearly toppled him over with the velocity they crashed into his legs. 
"Uncle Obi-Wan!" They chorused. Obi-Wan smiled at the honorific even if it did hurt that there was two other children out there who would never get the chance to call him as such. 
"Do we have a therapy session today?" Omega asked, 
"No." He said, hosting their heavy school bags over his shoulder.  "Today I'm here as your Uncle, not your therapist. I'm going to look after you whilst your parents are at work." 
"Can we get McDonald's?" Numa piped up. 
Obi-Wan’s soft refusal was drowned out in Hondo's shout of "KATOONI!" 
When Obi-Wan’s ears had stopped ringing he, followed the aim of Hondo's grin to see a girl heading out from the same door that Numa and Omega had come from. Although instead of running, the girl walked at a much calmer pace. Purple beads hung at the end of her neat braids, clapping against her over-stuffed backpack. Obi-Wan was surprised when she came to a stop in front of Hondo. 
"Good afternoon Papa." The girl said. 
"Good afternoon my dear! How was school today eh?" 
"I got full marks on my maths test." She replied, handing him a sheet of paper. 
Obi-Wan watched as with one hand Hondo held the paper, marvelling over it like it was a new found Divinchi. 
"Of course you did! I'm so proud!" 
The other he curled around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug, absentmindedly fixing the collar on her shirt. Katooni rolled her eyes but the smile on her face was genuine. 
"Thank you. I wondered perhaps we could go to McDonald's as a celebration." Glancing up at her father with far too innocent eyes. 
"Ah bribery! I've taught you well. And of course! Skills like that must be rewarded!" Hondo exclaimed and Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he was referring to the test or the bribery. 
"Ah where are my manners! Kenobi, this is my daughter Katooni. Katooni, this my ex!" 
"Not his ex." Obi-Wan stated, shaking the hand girls who's name was apparently Katooni offered. 
"It is a pleasure to meet you." Katooni said, her tone polite and handshake strong. 
"Likewise." Obi-Wan said, smiling despite himself. He felt bad for his earlier assumptions. Hondo might have his faults  but it was as clear as day that had done a good job raising his daughter. 
"Now I know how devastated you are that we are no longer together, however as I keep telling my partner, that doesn't mean we wouldn't still have a great time on a double date no?" 
"Partner?" Obi-Wan sputtered because if there was something stranger than Hondo having a child it was him finding a long term relationship. 
From behind them a man with bronze skin and dark eyes appeared, to press a kiss to Hondo's cheek and a hand atop Katooni's shoulder. 
"Sorry dear, it took me forever to find a parking sport for the-" 
"Dogma!" Numa cried beating Obi-Wan to it.
Obi-Wan stared at his brother in law in shock. The last time he had seen Dogma had been months ago when he had cried himself to sleep on his and Cody's sofa after a spur of the moment decision to quit the police force before disappearing the next morning. Cody had barely heard a word from him since which Obi-Wan knew had worried him and none of the other Fett's had known where he had gone. The last place Obi-Wan would have guessed would've been shacking up with Hondo Ohnaka. 
Dogma's bronze skin turned unnaturally pale. 
"Oh erm hi Obi-Wan." His brother-in-law stammered unable to meet his eye. "Fancy seeing you here hehe?" 
"Katooni, does that make you our cousin?" Omega asked, sounding far too thrilled at the idea. 
"Not yet eh?" Hondo said, nudging Dogma with a wink. 
Now Dogma's face flushed so hard that the arrow of freckles on his face completely vanished. Obi-Wan didn't miss the way Hondo slipped his hand into Dogma's, his thumb stroking reassuring circles against his wrist and the grateful smile Dogma sent in return. 
"Please don't tell Cody?" Dogma pleaded, more relaxed now than he had been a few minutes ago but there was a still a hint of worry in his voice. "I love them so much and I want to tell him so bad but I just haven't found the right moment yet." 
"Perhaps if we get McDonald's we will be to excited to remember this?" Katooni suggested, much to Hondo's pleased grin. 
Obi-Wan sighed. He had planned a whole afternoon out of taking his nieces to the local nature pond and mediation gardens. But he knew from experience that it wouldn't mean anything now that McDonald's had been suggested. 
"Fine. But you're paying." He relented. 
"Yay!" The girls chorused, already distracted by the prospect of soft play areas and happy meal toys. 
Obi-Wan fell into step behind them, next to Dogma who Hondo was showing Katooni's test too. The proud and loving look was all Obi-Wan need to know that everything was going to be okay. 
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independentzaun · 1 year
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👪 Family.
Send a symbol for a drabble/short piece of writing about my muse's
👪 Family.
I'm not sure this is exactly the type of thing that ask meme "intended" but this came into my head and I HAD to write it.
~ ~ ~
Walking slowly into the building there was an odd tinge of reluctance to Silco’s movements. A bottle of alcohol in one hand he moved silently down rows of shelves, and cubby holes before turning down another section and continuing to one specific spot. His other hand held a fold out chair as the man had no intention of simply standing there while visiting. As he found the person he wanted Silco unfolded the chair to sit down in it. He was completely alone as far as anyone could tell, but as he looked up at an urn held safely in a cubby hole Silco could practically see the one he was there to visit despite them no longer being alive.
“Hey youngling. It’s been… some time. I’d understand if you are mad, but it wasn’t intentional. Everything has just been so busy the last few years.” A soft grim chuckle escaped from Silco as he shook his head. “I almost joined you wherever you are, but that time just hasn’t quite came yet. Not that I’m complaining. The longer I live the more I can tell you when that time comes, and the better the chance I can finally accomplish… well no matter. I’m here now.”
A soft sigh came from him as he placed the bottle of alcohol on his lap, and reached into his jacket pulling out his cigarette case. Moments later a whiff of smoke emerged, and tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling Silco blew a smoke ring taking silent for a few seconds until he started to speak again. “Where to start. Well I had a brother named Vander. You would have liked him. I liked him, trusted him, loved him even. He tried to kill me though that’s how I got my eye, and these scars. He adopted a couple of kids later on. Vi, and Powder as she was called at that point. Both really strong in their way… I hate Vi, but I’ll give her that.”
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The bottle of alcohol was opened and he raised it up. “I’m sorry you never got to learn what your favorite drink was, but I brought Father’s. You must remember it, that swill he bought every payday and squeezed out until the next. Here’s to you and the rest of our family.” Taking a swig of the cheap beyond bottom self practically toxic drink Silco didn’t even flinch and swallowed it down. “You know, you’ve got a niece, and she’s...perfect just as she is. Her name is Jinx, and...fuck. You tell anyone else I said this and I’ll kill you.” His voice was clearly teasing with that note from an older brother playfully threatening a younger sibling. “I love her though. She’s my daughter even if it’s not blood, not that blood has ever mattered much when it comes to such things here in Zaun. We both know that. Too many orphans, and so many families that came together just out of happenstance. I wish she could have met you. Maybe things would have been different.” Another drink, another puff of his cigarette.
“Vander is basically gone now, and Jinx almost killed me. No don’t be mad. It’s complicated, but she had her reasons and I forgive her. It was an impossible situation. Vi was there, and this sheriff… I’ll tell you about it some other time.” Closing his eyes Silco took a deep breath. “It’s strange, I didn’t understand Vander for so long, but that changed not all that long ago. An offer was made, but they wanted Jinx in return. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give her up. I couldn’t give up my daughter, my family. You understand right? You always talked about how we’d take care of mom, and dad when we both got older...You’d understand of course you would. Smart little shit, smarter than you should have been.”
Shaking his head Silco sat in that spot staring at the urn with cremated ashes in it for a while as he finished his cigarette, and then another one, and a third. A couple sips of the swill in the bottle as he thought back to his family that he’d had over the years. Mother, father, his younger… Vander of course. Jinx. Family lost, gained, and lost again. Years of emotions slowly stiring inside of him, and drifting upwards aided by the alcohol until one slow tear drifted down Silco’s cheek. “I miss you. I forgot for a bit. I was so distracted by plans, and rage, and business, and… I miss you though.” Standing he set the bottle of alcohol on the chair, and placed two fingers against his lips before touching the urn.
“I won’t stop though, and I won’t ever forgive Piltover for how they’ve treated us. What they put us through… what you went through. You’d probably say I should forgive, and concentrate on something nicer but you were always the kinder one of us. You could be, being the youngest. Until you couldn’t be anymore… I’ll come back some day. Maybe one day I’ll even be able to bring Jinx to meet you.”
Turning Silco walked away stone faced from the urn holding his younger sibling. He’d never been able to properly cremate, and keep safe their parents but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t ensure the younger one didn’t have a peaceful place to rest. Even if it had meant buying the whole business years ago to ensure it’d never go bankrupt and that one particular Urn would always have a place.
You didn’t abandon family.
Not if you could help it.
He still believed in Loyalty.
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