#and a husband that pushes said daughter (and her brother) into the damn pit

[fandom-trash-goblin]

"Mister", she said. Dad, she meant.

The constellation who doesn't yet have a name. Shin Yuseung was well aware of who it was referring to. 'Mister.' It was only a gaze but in fact, many people died because there wasn’t a 'gaze' at an important moment. In that sense, Shin Yuseung was lucky.

[The constellation who doesn't yet have a name is nodding.]

Shin Yuseung received the attention of only one person in the world and stepped forward.

for @chocolatemalt (took the excerpt from the comments don't worry im not spoiling myself on the novel!)

#they make me cry #i love them so much #kim dokja #shin yoosung #orv #webtoon #webweaving #omniscient reader's viewpoint #my scrungly wet rar man and his adorable daughter #and a husband that pushes said daughter (and her brother) into the damn pit #how could you huh? #yoo joonghyuk #answer your crimes! #(jk) #ahh apparently tomorrow is kdj's bday? #i should have posted this tomorrow #hindsight #joongdok #orv manhwa #manhwa

[honey-dewey]

Our Small Slice of Paradise

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 1,696

Warnings: None, this is pure fluff. 

Four years and one child later, Frankie is a whole new man. He’s a wonderful father, a diligent working man, a kind soul, and a beautiful husband. He’s had his fight and his struggle, and now he has earned his small slice of paradise. 

“Frankie!” You called through the house, directing your yells towards the garage door. “Frankie! It’s dinner time!” 

“Huh?” Frankie poked his head in from the garage, genuinely looking shocked. His daughter was across his chest, dead asleep. “What’s up?” 

You smiled. “It’s dinner. Tell the boys to come inside.” 

Frankie turned red. “How do you know they’re out here?” 

“Because I could hear Benny through the walls.” 

All four boys and Nessa came in, Nessa incredibly upset that she couldn’t sit in Frankie’s lap throughout dinner. 

“Baby,” you grabbed her hands as she flailed in her high chair. “Baby! You can sit on daddy’s lap after dinner. But he has to eat too.” 

Nessa pouted, crossing her arms. “Want daddy!” 

Santiago snorted. “Wonder where she gets that attitude from.” 

“Watch your mouth Pope, or you won’t be invited back.” 

At your threat, Santiago wisely shut his mouth. 

Eventually, Nessa calmed enough for you to serve dinner, earning you praise from everyone at the table. 

“Delicious as always,” Benny said happily, taking a rather large bite. “Damn Fish, you really got a good one.” 

Frankie leaned over and kissed your cheek, garnering childish groans from the table. “Yeah, I did.” 

Once dinner was over, Nessa loudly insisted upon sitting with Frankie, so you all headed out back, where William set up the fire pit and went to grab a couple beers. 

“So,” Santiago said, gesturing to you and Frankie with his beer bottle. “When is the family expanding again? We have bets, you know!” 

Frankie laughed, gazing at you with loving eyes. “I dunno babe, should we have another baby?” 

“With these boys?” You said, raising your eyebrows and looking at the three boys sitting across from you. “I’ve got my hands full enough. I swear, your friends are like teenagers.” 

“Oh no.” Santiago shook his head. “You know nothing about our lovely Fransisco when he was a teenager.” 

“Oh?” You leaned closer to Santiago. “Explain.” 

Immediately, Santiago launched into a long and hilarious story about how Frankie earned his beloved nickname. Best you could tell between the laughter and the yelling, Frankie had gone on a road trip with Santiago before they’d joined the military, and they’d stopped in Louisiana. They’d gone swimming in a river, and poor Frankie had been bit not once but twice by a catfish.

“Well excuse you, those fuckers hurt!” Frankie argued once Santiago had finished. 

You smiled. “Pope, where did the fish bite him?” 

Santiago grinned a rather telling grin. “The first one got his foot.” 

Benny, who was doubled over with laughter, sat up with wide eyes. “No,” he said dramatically. “You did not get bit in the dick by a catfish.” 

“Have you never heard this story?” William asked, also breathless from laughter. “Pope told it at least twice on our road trip.” 

“I was asleep for most of that.” 

You leaned back, smiling at the boys. It was hard to imagine them as anything other than best friends. 

“I’m gonna go put Nessa to bed,” Frankie said softly to you once his watch had hit 9. “Is the spare room set up?” 

“Yeah,” you said, setting down your bottle or ginger beer and holding out your arms. “You stay with the boys. I’ll take Nessa.” 

Frankie smiled, kissing you and passing Nessa into your arms. Benny and Santiago wolf whistled, but you ignored them in favor of carrying your daughter to bed. 

Once she was situated and had been properly kissed good-night, you trailed back out to the yard, grabbing s’mores materials on your way. 

“What in the fuck?” You said, standing in the doorway out to the backyard and just watching. Benny and William were wrestling while Frankie and Santiago were making bets, cheering the other two boys on. 

Immediately, Benny sat up, smiling childishly at you. “Hey! Welcome back!” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Get off the ground Benny. And William, I expected better from you!” 

Both boys chorused out apologies, and you nodded. “Thank you. Now, who wants s’mores?” 

Immediately, all four boys leapt upon you, eagerly taking the s’mores materials from you. Frankie dug out the s’mores sticks the pair of you had and you had to stop a joust between Santiago and Benny. 

“Damn!” Santiago said, waving a flaming marshmallow around. “Fucking burnt it.” 

“Oh! Dibs!” William said, reaching out. “I like mine burnt.” 

“You disgust me.” Frankie smooshed his own lightly toasted marshmallow between two graham crackers and a piece of chocolate. 

Benny shrugged. “I like mine more toasted than that,” he said, taking chocolate from you. “Pope doesn’t even fucking toast his!” 

“Oh it is on!” 

You sighed, not even bothering to do anything as the boys began to wrestle. Again. Frankie got pulled into the mess when Santiago shoved a warm marshmallow into his back. William, who genuinely tried to stay out of it, was literally pulled into it when Frankie grabbed him and used him as a human shield. 

Leaning back into your chair, you munched on your s’more, watching the boys fight. It was good to see them happy, especially with how much they’d been through. They deserved to be at ease, not worried about some huge looming threat. 

“You’re out of ammo,” you eventually pointed out once the fighting had reached fifteen minutes, nudging the empty marshmallow bag. “And you’re messes.” 

Santiago untangled himself, sitting up and grunting as he rolled Frankie off his legs. “I’m sticky.” 

“You’re all sticky.” You stood, heading towards the hose. “C’mon, let’s get you all cleaned off.” 

It took some finagling, but with the right pressure setting and a good amount of scrubbing with the rough side of a kitchen sponge and some heavy duty dish soap, all four boys were mostly clean. You carried the pile of ruined clothes to the laundry room, hoping you could wash them tomorrow. In the mean time, something else had to be done. 

“Who’s first?” You asked, heading back outside with a small bucket of hair care supplies.

Everyone pointed to Benny except for Benny. He pointed to William, groaning when he realized he had to go first. “Why me?” 

“You’re youngest,” Santiago said, putting another log in the fire pit. 

Benny grumbled, but sat in the chair you stood behind, waiting for the pull of the comb as you attempted to remove the smeared in bits of marshmallow and chocolate. 

You were much gentler than he expected, using some old tricks and a warm washcloth to get the smaller chunks. The bigger ones needed more convincing, and you did have to cut a particularly stubborn chunk out, but it was a mostly smooth operation. 

After Benny, it was William, who had less in his hair that needed to be slowly massaged out. 

The brothers nodded to you once William was done, trailing into the house and to the guest room. 

Santiago needed more time than Benny, softly chatting to Frankie as you worked on his hair, eventually seeming him clean once his shoulders were damp from the warm washcloth and small marshmallow coated snippets of his hair littered the ground. 

“Well,” he said, standing and stretching. “I’ll leave you two crazy kids out here alone. Do not fuck each other, please. The walls are thin and I do not need to hear my best friend and his wife going at it in the backyard.” 

You gave him a good night, and Frankie gave him a middle finger as Santiago headed inside to pass out on the couch, as he usually did when he spent the night. 

“Come here mister,” you said, gesturing Frankie closer. “You’re a hot fucking mess.” 

Frankie smiled as he sat down, relaxing under your careful hands. “Mhm. You love me anyway.” 

“Not like this,” you said, tugging at one of the marshmallow chunks caked into his hair. “I dunno how much I can save Frankie.” 

“That’s fine,” Frankie promised. “I’m overdue anyway.” 

You smiled, spinning the kitchen scissors on your index finger. “Yeah, you kinda are.” 

By the time Frankie was free of the marshmallow and the chocolate, it was nearing 11, and Frankie was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. 

“Done,” you said softly, ruffling through his hair and dusting off his shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get to bed.” 

Frankie followed after you sleepily, watching through half lidded eyes as you put the kitchen scissors back in their drawer, tossed the dirty washcloth in the laundry, and pushed open your bedroom door. 

“I love you,” Frankie said abruptly, shocking you out of your rhythmic actions. You’d been in the process of getting dressed for bed, your day shirt on the floor and your sleep pants halfway pulled up. 

“What?” 

“I love you,” Frankie repeated, and there was so much sincerity in his voice that you almost cried. 

“Frankie.” You walked over to him, still shirtless. “Babe, you’re exhausted.” 

Frankie nodded, letting you take his shirt off. “Yeah, but I still love you,” he murmured, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist and holding you close to him. 

You smiled, trailing your arms over his neck, threading your hands through his newly trimmed hair as he bowed his head to your shoulder. “I love you too Francisco.”

The pair of you stayed like that, holding each other in the moonlight, half naked, until Frankie untangled himself from your arms and tugged you gently to the bed. You fell beside him, rolled into your side so you were facing him. 

“Hello handsome,” you said with a grin, kissing Frankie’s nose. “Wanna get married?” 

Frankie smiled, poking your cheeks one at a time and causing you to giggle. “I dunno, I got this wife at home, and I think she’s a real keeper.” 

You curled closer to Frankie’s chest, reveling in the warmth he provided. “Well damn. Why don’t you kiss her for me?” Your voice grew softer with each word as the night’s antics caught up to you. 

Frankie kissed the top of your head, feeling your breaths even out as you fell asleep. “I love you,” he whispered one more time, feeling his own eyes close as he too slipped away into the peace of sleep beside you.

#triple frontier #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #my writing #pedro pascal

[thedefinitionofendgame]

two under two

Amelia X Link multi-chapter | Rated T | Canon-divergent after 7x11

A/N: Just some Amelink (and others) fluff for y’all! After all the potential wedding talk in 17x11, I decided I just had to work on my Amelink short multi-chap fic. I’m just so glad Amelia’s found someone who is absolutely crazy about her. I am so happy for her and the little family she’s made. *SPOILERS FOR SEASON 17*

•

You can read this work on ao3 and fanfiction.net as well

Written & cover by @thedefinitionofendgame (aka me)

chapter 1 - big news calls for bigger reactions

It was now or never, and even though never sounded fine to Amelia, she knew now was the best time to say whatever she wanted to say. Clearing her throat, she felt Link’s fingers intertwine with hers under the table, which kept her calm. There’s no time like the present, Amelia thought to herself. Rip off the bandaid and get on with it! So by opening her mouth, she did just that. “We, Link and I, have something to tell you guys,” Amelia said, shifting her gaze to everyone seated around the outdoor dining room table. They were outside because the weather was finally nice enough to enjoy a meal in the outdoors, without fear of being rained on.

Everyone stopped chattering and turned to look at Amelia. There was a big crowd tonight in the backyard, as get-togethers were allowed now that all the adults had their COVID vaccines. Besides Meredith and the kids, Winston, Jo, Teddy, Owen, Leo and Allison had come over as well. Oh and of course, Jo’s adopted daughter, Luna Ashton who had been renamed Luna Ashton Brooke Wilson, to honour her birth name and her forever mom. It was definitely a full house, which made for the perfect time to announce Amelia and Link’s news; the news that they had been dreading to announce for the past couple months. Not dreading the actuality of the news so much as the reactions it would bring. Just like the time before, Amelia braced herself for the responses of her friends and sisters that telling this news would bring.

Amelia paused a heartbeat too long. While Zola, Bailey and Ellis were quiet at their kids table next to the main one, Meredith was the impatient one. “Well, out with it!” She said, raising an eyebrow at Amelia. Despite Meredith’s terrible health scares earlier in the year, the blonde had bounced right back and was as high spirited as ever. She still had to take it easy, especially when it came to heavy-breathing exercises, but for the most part Meredith Grey was back to normal.

Amelia looked at Link, who nodded encouragingly. He hadn’t forced her to announce their news in front of everyone today, and had actually suggested only telling Meredith and Maggie to start. However Amelia said she wanted to tell everyone at once, to avoid any questioning or whispering that might happen at the hospital. “Link and I are pregnant again. Tada, that’s the surprise.”

The entire table fell silent, while everyone processed the news. Maggie was the first to recover and jumped up out of her seat to give Amelia a hug. “Oh my gosh!” She squealed, engulfing Amelia into her embrace.

“That’s awesome news! I’m so happy I get to be Auntie Mer again,” Meredith said. It only made her a little sad to know that last time Link and Amelia had announced they were pregnant, Andrew had been with her and heard the news firsthand. She quickly shook her head to clear her mind of those thoughts. This was not the time nor place to think about Andrew DeLuca.

Next to Amelia, Link was receiving a fist bump from Winston and Jo smiled happily at her best friend. “I’m really happy for you, you’re gonna make a great dad times two.” Jo bounced Luna in her lap. “Are you excited to have another baby friend? Maybe it will be a girl this time.”

Link opened his mouth to reply, when Zola popped up between the new parents’ two chairs. “I can’t wait for another cousin! Can I say hi to the baby?” Nodding, Amelia pushed back her chair so that Zola could place her hands on her Auntie’s belly. Amelia was a bit overwhelmed by the well-wishes; she hadn’t expected so much attention. When she had started telling people about Scout’s coming, it was only Maggie then Link then Meredith and Andrew. People found out gradually. Oh god, Link was right! Cursing herself about her baby daddy being right about waiting, Amelia tried to drag herself out of her own thoughts.

The squeezing of her hand in Link’s brought her back. Zola had moved on, and was now happily talking about the new cousin on the way to Bailey and Ellis. Scout was napping just inside, which at least dialled back the noise. If one baby was loud, Amelia was scared to find out what two would be like.

Although she was excited. Goodness, she was over the damn moon about it. The first time Link had gotten her pregnant, she had been just scared, until Mr. Atticus Lincoln had turned her whole though process upside down. He had told her he would support her no matter what she decided; would love their baby unconditionally or drive her to the clinic if she chose to have an abortion. Amelia hadn’t ever felt that type of love before, the type that didn’t matter what she chose. It only grew with the pregnancy, at least after the whole “who’s the daddy” fiasco got cleared up. At least this time Amelia was one-hundred percent sure this baby was Link’s. She loved the baby they had made together the first time, and would love their second baby just as much.

While most of the people around the table seemed surprised, Link was very much not. When Amelia had told him she was pregnant, he had raised an eyebrow at her and laughed, before telling her he loved her and that he was the happiest man alive. With all the “athletic and aerobic” sex they had despite having four kids in the same house as them, it was no wonder he managed to get Amelia knocked up a second time in less than two years. It was more like one and a bit years, because what everyone else didn’t know was that Amelia was already five months along. They’d gotten pregnant around Scout’s half birthday. Good timing on their part...not. Both Link and Amelia weren’t against having more kids but had not wanted to discuss or try for a second for a while longer. Baby Amelink #2 was a bit of a surprise just like their older brother had been.

Owen and Teddy were the last to offer their congratulations. "Well I’m pleased for you both," Owen said, speaking for the first time since the bombshell was dropped. He didn't look at Teddy, because he knew what her face would convey. They had been wanting to add to their growing brood for the past couple months, but nothing had happened. Owen didn't think of himself as infertile, all previous mishaps had proven that, so he wasn't quite sure why he and Teddy hadn't gotten pregnant yet. Although he wasn't going to complain, especially when Amelia and Link seemed to just come to terms and that's why they chose to wait so long to announce it. He had been waiting for them to come out with their secret for a while now, after accidentally overhearing a conversation between them both in the pit post-consult. Like the good ex-husband-more like friend and fellow doctor-Owen was, he kept quiet and didn’t even tell Teddy. Now that their news was out in the open, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about slipping up ever.

Chatter continued amongst the friends, and Amelia relaxed now that the focus was off of her. She leaned back in her chair and placed a hand on her growing tummy. “You’re already a hit,” she whispered to the baby inside of her.

“Damn right she is,” Link leaned over and whispered in Amelia’s ear, sending shivers down her spine. Why did that voice always make her think dirty thoughts? Probably the hormones, and also the fact he used that exact tone in the bedroom. God Amelia, get your head out of the gutter, she thought to herself.

Amelia glanced at Link. “Are you calling girl on me?”

Link shrugged, not totally willing to admit it, but he was definitely thinking it was a girl. “Maybe. Jo said it first.”

“Oh sure, that’s what sparked it.” Amelia rolled her eyes but internally, she was smiling really big. “We already have a name regardless of their gender though.”

“We do.” Link smiled and pressed a kiss to Amelia’s temple. “Best name ever.”

“Even better than Scout?” She smiled back at the man she loved more than anything else in the world, maybe even more than Scout. Amelia loved her son very much, but it was his daddy that made everything in her life good. Every single moment, no matter how upsetting, Link somehow made it worth it. Made it worth all the hard nights and the crying sessions and the struggles to stay sober. He was her everything, and always would be. Together, they would be there for Scout and the new baby. It was always going to be them, until the very end.

Link thought for a moment. “Nope, but tied though.”

Laughing, Amelia nodded. “Alright, I can live with that.” They were quiet for a moment, then Link nudged Amelia with his elbow. She turned and saw Ellis standing beside her chair. “Hey Ellie-Belle, what’s up?”

“I wanna sit with you and the new baby. Where is it?” Ellis looked around, as though she magically expected a baby to appear outside in the backyard.

Meredith raised an eyebrow at her sister, as the youngest Shepherd pulled her niece into her lap with only minor difficulty. “If you have a girl, all I gotta say is that they’re clingy and ask a lot of questions. Such as,” she turned to Zola who was standing beside her patiently waiting to ask a question. “Yes, Zo-Zo?”

“When are we going to have dinner? Bailey’s hungry and we ate lunch over five hours ago.” Zola stated matter-of-factly.

“And with boys, you get the always hungry factor,” Meredith sighed.

“Know all about that,” Amelia said, with a pointed look at the baby monitor on the table. “I swear this kid never stops eating. He’s almost getting more action than Link is,” Amelia blurts out, forgetting there was a child in her lap and four others nearby. Well, more like 3 because Allison was inside napping with Scout.

No one really paid close attention, except Link who let out a chuckle. “Always telling like it is,” he said with a smirk. Link waited until Meredith had gotten up and headed inside with the rest of the adults and the other kids, minus the one in Amelia’s embrace, before he said anything else. “I love you,” he whispered, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Amelia melted and wrapped her arms tighter around Ellis. For a minute she pretended that the small body in her lap was her own daughter, the girl’s older brother chasing after the food Bailey sought as well. “I love you too. Everyone took our surprise a lot better than I thought.”

“Of course they did. Because they love you, they love Scout and I guess they love me too,” Link added.

“They love you probably more than me. I’m the former drug addict, remember?”

“Hey, you’re still keeping your promise about not getting high. That’s all that matters.” Link placed one of his hands on Amelia’s belly, right where their baby was growing. Ellis twisted in Amelia’s lap and did the same, amazed by whatever her Uncle Link was doing. With a smile to both the girls present, he messed Ellis’ hair and then looked over at the woman he loved. The woman he had unashamedly surrendered his heart to, the woman who he would fight forever for. He had almost let her and their beautiful son slip through his fingers, but thank god his best friend told him to not mess what he had with Amelia up. She was his ever after, and it was true that before Amelia, he didn’t tell people he was in love with them often. Hookups were a thing of his past, after the gorgeous brown haired-blue eyed girl walked into his life. She had walked in, stolen his heart and stayed because they were going to be each other’s forever. They were each other’s forever.

A forever as a family of four. Because they already had Scout and a baby on the way which made them a family of four. Four was a number Link could work with, a number he sort of wanted to increase but only if Amelia wanted. He would do anything for her and vice versa. His girl was strong and brave and worked miracles everyday. If it was anything Atticus Lincoln was proud to do, it was call Amelia, his.

posting chapter 2 & 3 soon!

#amelia x link #amelink #amelink fanfic #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia shepherd fanfic #atticus lincoln fanfic #scout derek shepherd lincoln #two under two #baby on the way #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy s17 spoilers #grey's anatomy fanfic #the definition of endgame

[kchuarts]

Instinct 2

A/N: >:3c I need to be in h*rny jail for this.

Summary: The journey to Jotunheim takes off smoothly, no issues to report. Loki and his crew believe that the mission to close the ripped seam shouldn’t be difficult. However, things do appear too good to be true and events take a turn…

Warnings: 🔞🔞🔞 SPICY SMUT, breeding, dubious consent, impregnation, angst, etc… DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 🔞🔞🔞

“We are approaching our destination, Prince Loki.” The pilot informed the God in the co-pilot seat. He nodded in response and leaned forward a bit, brows scrunching… Something was very off. “Captain, can you change coordinates to land behind that cluster of trees? Just over there.“ Loki pointed to a clearing to where he had just mentioned. The pilot nodded, tilting the ship in that angle and safely landing in position. "What had you change your plan of landing, your highness?” An Asgardian S.H.I.E.L.D agent raised his brow. Loki looked to the agent then at Astrid who was preparing necessary medical items for the journey. “I need to make sure that we are under complete cover. I have brought my wife with me due to her medical expertise and insistence on joining us… Plus, there could be some medicinal remedies not yet discovered and I am most certain she would be quite cross with me if I had her miss out on such a feat.” He smiled slightly. The man looked to Astrid and smiled brightly, “Why your highness, I hadn’t a clue she was your wife. I thought she looked familiar from yesterday when you both brought my little girl safely to me! What can I, Brand Jorgunson of Asgard, do to repay your graces kindness?” He looked hopeful at the prince. 

Oh. Well, Loki was not expecting the father of the little girl to be Asgardian. This fact calmed his nerves about what he had said yesterday. “Your hard work and perseverance is all that I require-” His smile dropped as there was a screech among the harsh winds of the planet. The fleet became silent and Loki crept over to Astrid out of his instinct to protect her. He looked down at his wife as she grabbed his arm and shuddered. “Th-That wasn’t the same noise from yesterday.” She spoke in a hushed voice, holding onto him a bit more tightly. “No, it is not. I do believe that we are as close to the tear as we can physically get without tampering space and time. There are more beasts concentrated in this area due to the high frequency of the tear.” Loki pondered, releasing Astrid. They needed to get to that seam quickly if they were to stop anymore Frost Beasts from leaking through. A familiar feeling of unease washed over the Trickster once more as he stopped right in front of the ships exit. 

Loki waved his hand to signal the fleet to prepare for stepping foot outside of the ship. With haste, everyone put their anti-cold suits on and awaited Loki’s next order. “Someone needs to stay close to the ship just in case things go wrong.” One of the crew members whispered. Brand raised his hand, “I will volunteer to stay with the pilot and give the signal.” The Prince nodded in agreement as the thought of the little girl, Brands daughter Lorraine, crossed his mind. He shook his head gently, why was he even concerned about that? He shouldn’t care that much. The pilot nodded, pressing the button as the door slowly opened with some difficulty due to how strong the winds were. Loki grabbed Astrid’s hand again, whispering to her “Stay close to me.” The brunette girl squeezed his hand in reply, not even wanting to go anywhere else but his side. Almost immediately, Loki’s skin changed from it’s pale ivory tone to sapphire. Brilliant lines stood out on his blue skin and his crimson eyes seemed to pierce through anything. Astrid found herself staring at her husband in awe, captivated by how breathtaking she found him. This was indeed a rare sight as Loki almost always refused to show his true form. “Are you alright, my love?” Astrid flinched a little as she was brought out from her stare. She nodded, giving him a smile “You’re beautiful.” Her cheeks were a light shade of pink under her helmet. 

His own cheeks darkened slightly from her comment and he felt a warm stirring inside of his chest. Images of her with that same blush, only more deep, flashed in his mind. She was writhing beneath him, panting, crying out his name- “Laufeyson.” He was brought back down by one of the agents impatient tone. What the hell was going on with him? To make matters worse, he felt a growing tightness in his pants... Not good. It couldn’t be mating season for the Frost Giants already, couldn’t it? Loki did his best to distract himself from that theory by leading the team behind a pillar of frozen rock. “There.” He nodded his head toward a visible hole in the atmosphere, Frost Beasts going in and being sucked into the tear. “Amazing. I’ve never seen anything like this!” One of the crew tried to push past the god to get a closer look, mistakenly placing a hand on the small of Astrid’s back. The agent was then firmly slammed against the pillar with a snarling Trickster leering at him. “You do not lay a hand on my wife!” He hissed at the agent, tightening his grip. “Loki let him go! It was an accident.” The brunette placed a gentle hand on her husbands back, getting him to do so. 

Rightfully so, the agent was a bit more than upset at this sudden action. “What the fuck is wrong with you!? Maybe we should have brought Thor instead of this untrustworthy criminal!!” The agents voice became louder out of anger. “Travis! Shut up!!” Another agent grabbed the agent known as Travis’s shoulder and shook him aggressively. Ignoring the commotion, Loki’s now larger form loomed over Astrid’s, his eyes glazed over. “Are you alright, my dove?” He wanted to take that damn helmet off to feel her skin. She nodded, her brows scrunched in confusion “Baby, are you ok? Maybe we should contact Brand and get him to send for back up.” She reached up and did what Loki had wanted to do to her. The Prince’s large hand held her smaller one to his face as he still looked into her eyes. “That is unnecessary to call for reinforcements...” He walked closer until Astrid was pinned against the wall, her eyes full of fear instead of confusion. She had not the slightest idea what suddenly came over her beloved, but he had to stop it now. “Loki we should really call for back up, you’re not yourself.” She removed her hand from his grip and placed both of her hands on his chest. Her breath picked up and eyes became wide as he tried to take the helmet off, “Loki stop!!” she tried so hard not to scream. 

Just as he was about to take it off, one of the agents let out a scream of terror that was followed by a ferocious roar. Whipping around, Loki saw the agents being mauled to bits by 2 Frost Beasts who had stalked them down. “This is your fault!!” Travis pointed to Loki, blood splattering in the helmet as one of the beasts chomped down on his lower half. The sight caused Astrid to yelp in horror and grab onto Loki tightly. “Brand!!” The prince pressed in on his ear piece as his mind was out of that amorous fog it had previously been clouded by. “Brand come in!!” His jaw clenched, his eyes focused on the beasts approaching. “Your highness! We heard screaming! We are on our way-” , “No!! You will call for reinforcements from my brother and get out of here NOW.” Loki scooped Astrid up in his arms without warning and sprint for the dark, dense wood. At least the stubbornly thick trunks of the frozen trees would slow the beasts pursuing just a little. A loud roar of an engine blasted to life as Brand and the pilot had done as they were told, nearly missing the tear. 

As long as they reached Earth safely, then Thor would be here in no time... At least Loki had hoped. In truth, he didn’t know how many beasts could have crossed the realm at this point. “LOKI!!” Astrid screamed as a large clawed foot came down on the both of them. It was too late for the Trickster to make any proper move and Astrid was knocked from his arms. He looked up after the initial impact, frantically searching for his wife until his heart almost stopped. The prince did indeed spot her, but her long brown hair was spread out and her helmet missing. Loki leapt up, rushing over to her and hoisting her back into his arms. Her cheeks and nose were bright red with a nice cut on her forehead to match. “Shit!!” He held the unconscious woman to his body close, hearing the beasts approaching faster than he would like. As if it wasn’t hard already, spears began to fly out of no where. Thankfully, the beasts became distracted by the new intruders and gave Loki time to escape. However, the spears continued to fly in his direction and nearly hit he and Astrid both. The Trickster ripped one of the spears from the ground as he fled, still clutching the woman in his arms tightly. 

Loki ran for what seemed like a while and after a brief period of time, the spears stopped. Relief washed over him as he saw an abandoned Jotun village in sight. These structures were built into the mountain and were questionable when stability was considered; but it would have to do. If they were lucky enough, this settlement would have a natural hot spring inside as well. Hastily, he entered in the cave and found that luck was on their side after all. In the cave, there were used furs, baskets that had not been touched for quite some time, some pillows,  a few spears similar to the one Loki had grabbed, a hot spring and a fire pit. “Mother, if you lead us here... Thank you.” He let out an exhausted sigh as he carefully set Astrid down on the furs and adjusted them to keep her warm. His touch against her slowly warming cheek lingered a bit longer than he wanted and the unwelcome arousing thoughts returned. Loki felt his cock harden painfully to the idea of stripping the resting brunette from her suit and ravaging her mortal body. “No.” He swallowed, looking away from his wife before getting up. “I will not do that to her.” He scolded himself and took a deep breath. Perhaps scouting the area would get his mind off of these intrusive perversions. 

As the prince examined the area, he found quite a few useful tools and ancient artifacts of the people who once lived here. Loki looked down at his hand, noticing he was still blue and tried to shift back to his Aesir form. No such luck. Not only that, but his length was still throbbing with desperate need. He sighed in great irritation and frustration as he concluded it was indeed mating season. “Great.” He ran one of his hands down his blue ridged face. How in the hell was he supposed to protect Astrid from everything on this forsaken planet when he was also one of those dangers? Thor and company could not come any faster or get that damn portal shut; he hoped Brand made it back. His body froze in place as he heard movement coming from where he had placed Astrid. As quietly as he could, Loki crept from the other side of the cavern and almost moaned at the sight. The girl had indeed awakened and was completely naked in the spring, warming herself up. She looked ethereal to the prince with how her skin shined with droplets of water and her long hair floating effortlessly when she sat down. 

“She is ready, rightful king.” 

Loki jumped slightly from the sudden voice, looking around to see where it came from. 

“Do not be stupid, boy. It is your own feral side speaking with you. She cannot hear me.” 

He let a shaky breath out, closing his red eyes and attempting to calm his mind and hormones. 

“I know you can smell her, she is ripe and ready to be bred. Her hips are so deliciously worthy of child bearing. You will submit in the end... I know how badly you want her in that regard, I have seen your thoughts of her full with your child-” 

“Enough.” He whispered to himself, grabbing his head as it began to throb. “I will not do that to her.” 

“Baby? Are you ok?” Astrid’s sweet voice captured the prince’s attention. 

Her body stood half out of the water, allowing him a view of her breasts, abdomen, hips... 

The voice chuckled darkly inside of his head “Baby? Hmmm... She calls you what she has craved to give you all this time. How endearing, but yet you hold back... Because you know it will kill her weak mortal body. But you want to fuck her, claim her, breed her and show everyone that she is yours-” 

Loki gasped sharply as he felt Astrid touch his cheek and he ripped away, his pants uncomfortably tight. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She rose from the steaming waters to get closer to him. “You’ve been acting so strange ever since we arrived, please tell me. I want to help you.” Her large teal eyes glimmered in the dim light. The prince swallowed hard, looking away from his wife before his natural instincts consumed him. His heart beat faster, blood pounding in his ears loudly the longer he looked away and fought himself. “Y-You need to go. I cannot be near you. Please, Astrid go back where I had placed you and rest.” His voice was hoarse from the panting he hadn’t realized he was doing. “I’m not leaving you. If you’re hurt please tell me-” She stopped, stepping back as Loki stood with his full height over her. “I will hurt you if you continue to be near me. Now go.” He spoke through his teeth, watching the frightened girl make her way back to the furs and wrapping herself in them; not bothering to put her undergarments or suit back on. 

“I....” He started, turning away from her and picking up one of the Jotun spears. “I am going to hunt. I will try to be back as soon as I can, so please just.. Just do not leave this cave.” Loki ran a hand through his dark locks, exhaling loudly before exiting the cavern. Astrid blinked a few times, pulling the furs a little tighter to her body and laying down upon the oddly comfortable pillows. She watched the bonfire until her eyelids became heavy and sleep claimed her tired form. 

For at least what seemed like an hour or two, Loki had been successful in hunting a few small creatures that were similar to rabbits. During this time, that awful voice had left him alone and it gave Loki some clarity to think. He glanced at the sky and saw no sign of back up arriving as the tear was still pulling energy into it like a black hole. What kind of trap or battle tactic was this? Sure, Thanos had managed to get Loki alone per say, but made no sudden attack yet. Was this all just an assumption that the Mad Titan was behind it? He already had terrifying numbers for his army, what more did he possibly need and why Jotunheim of all places? The dark haired prince shook his head, shrugging to his own questions before turning around to head back. A sharp thudding pain returned to his head after he thought he had finally been rid of this nasty headache. “Damn it.” He leaned against a tree, grabbing his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. Along with this upper pain, the lower pain also made itself obviously present. He glanced down at the large bulge in his trousers and whined from how badly his cock throbbed. 

“You have what you need, now go and take what is yours.” 

The voice returned with an even louder presence. 

“You will not gain anything from ignoring your prowess; you will continue to suffer more the longer you fight until you cannot do so anymore. Succumb to it. Breed her and take what is yours!... If you do not, then I will and there is no such thing as being gentle with me.” 

“Alright!! I-I’ll do it!!” Loki felt a wetness slide down his cheek. The thought of hurting Astrid was destroying him. The thought of her dying because of what he did to her- 

“Just agreeing with me will not do. So unless you want me to take over for you, then I suggest you give into your bodies primal need. This is the last time I will give you leeway before I take control.” 

Letting out a weak sob, Loki trudged forth whilst dragging his kills behind him in the snow. His body ached so badly for release and freedom from this torment, but Loki knew how breeding worked and he was terrified. Astrid would be subjected to almost a week of non stop fucking until he was certain she would fall pregnant with his child. As much as he wanted to literally drag his feet and get to the cave as slowly as possibly, his body would not allow it. Within minutes, he was back inside and shedding his armor rather roughly. He had to do this lest that dark side of his do something he would regret. Once he removed everything, Loki winced at the painful pulse that throbbed through his aching member; pre-cum dripping from the angry dark blue head. Supper would have to wait for now, or at least he hoped they would get a chance to get some type of nourishment. He walked over to the sleeping girl and noticed her phone. Perhaps by some odd chance, she would have a signal? He picked it up to test that theory, but no such luck. However, something else caught his attention... She had a period tracking app. He touched the screen, opening the app and feeling his cock throb again as he read that this time she was most fertile. 

His nostrils flared as he tossed the phone aside, the screen shattering in the process. She could get a new one later if help arrived quickly. Loki crawled over the sleeping girl and peeled the furs away from her naked body. A growl ripped through his chest, startling Astrid awake. Her lips parted slightly as she wanted to say something, but lost the words. The brunette let out a squeal as the god above her pinned her wrists to the make shift bed. “Loki stop. You’re scaring me.” She whimpered, breath picking up quickly. He did not respond but instead, leaned forward and captured her lips in a sloppy kiss. Astrid’s squirming of protest and small whines only made Loki want her more while she was beneath him. “Loki, stop!!” She gasps, giving a small sob as she felt his teeth sink into the flesh of her neck. This wasn’t the man she married; this wasn’t her Loki. Flashbacks to that day he tried to assault her began to play in her head, and with all her might; she shoved the god off of her and scrambled up. Astrid struggled to crawl to a near by corner of the cave, her chest rising up and down quickly. 

The god growled out of vexation, quickly rising to his feet and sauntering to the trembling girl. Astrid noticed his dripping cock, her body betraying her by shooting heat to her lower lips. He was HUGE. This was not to say Loki was not well endowed, because he very much was. However, in this form his length had not only gained an inch or two but also had become more thick. He was going to split her in half with that monster between his legs. Astrid turned her gaze back up to his and held eye contact. Once Loki saw tears slide down her face, he briefly snapped out of his aroused state and knelt down. “Pet... Oh Norns.. I-I’ve scared you, haven’t I?” He cursed himself for doing so. She was still too shaken to say anything but gave him a small nod, curling in on herself. “Astrid.” He gently took her arm, pulling the hesitant woman to him. “I need you, please.” His forehead pressed upon hers and his eyes shut. Astrid began to calm down, sensing that this was not his fault at all and released a shaky breath. Loki’s head began to throb once again, the threat of that dark side of him rearing it’s ugly claws. “Listen to me.” His lip twitched, fighting that voice off as best as he could. “F-For the next week I need to breed you.” Loki felt like wanting to die saying that sentence. 

Astrid gaped, her heart racing at what he just said. “But I thought-” She was silenced with a needy kiss. “My feelings about that remain unchanged, but for the time being,” He looked at her “I need you to endure me. I understand you are mortal and have needs. I will do my best to let you eat, sleep, bathe and relieve yourself but I will not stop fucking you. Not until I am sated and positive that.. That you are with child.” defeat laced his voice. Astrid removed her forehead from his, lifting his chin gently to look at her as he had cast his gaze aside. “I love you, Loki. I love you with every fiber of my being.” Her hands moved to cup his face, her thumbs stroking his sharp cheek bones. “I know you know how I feel about it but, we can work something out if anything happens....” Astrid smiled softly, placing a smooch to his forehead before continuing with a nervous look in her eyes. “I will do this, for you but I-I need you to promise me something. If I do end up..” She began to choke up. “I want to keep it. I’m contradicting myself by saying this but Loki.. I love you so much and I want to give you a family of your own. I want to have children with you and raise them together-” 

The woman is cut off by Loki scooping her into his grasp and going back to the furs, placing her down on them. “You are so willing and ready to carry my child-” He growled, nipping at her neck. “Yes I- O-Oh Loki!” Astrid moans, breath hitching as she felt his fingers stroke her clit in small circles. She felt his cold lips trail down her collar bone to her breasts, taking a hardened bud into his mouth. Her back arched slightly into him as he sucked and kissed at her breasts hungrily. “I cannot wait to see these swell with milk for our child.” He growled out, abandoning her pearl in favor of kneading her fleshy mounds. “I have dreamt about taking you like this and feeling your quim flutter around my cock as you scream for more.” He reached down, chuckling as he felt how wet she had become just from dirty talk. “My, my... I’ve barely touched you and here you lay, your tight pussy dripping with desire from my words.” He slides two of his slender digits inside of her, drinking in the sound of her moans. Loki hummed at how her walls clenched around his fingers as he pushed them in and out. 

“F-Fuck!! Loki!” Astrid whines, throwing her head back as she feels him add a third finger in preparation for his length. She panted loudly, her hips bucking upwards for more friction. Loki grinned at her movements, his thumb now applying pressure to her clit as he continued to finger her. “Look at you, bucking your hips. My fingers feel good, don’t they? Mmm yes, but nothing quite like what I am about to give you.” He pulled his fingers from her cunt, slurping her essence off of his fingers crudely. The brunette whines, she was so close to orgasm before he had to- Oh. 

A new pressure stretches her walls, making her gasp a little out of surprise and a bit of pain. “You’re so tight.” Loki moans into her ear, pushing his hips forward into her heat. He does not have time to go slow or slow down for her, his instincts were kicking in. Both of them stilled for a moment in equally and impatiently panting messes before the prince bottomed out and withdrew completely from her before slamming his cock back in hard. Astrid’s nails sunk into her lovers back as his pace was brutal. His hips slammed into her and he growled into the side of her neck, biting the junction where her neck and shoulder met. “You’re g-going to tear me in half!!” The brunette held onto the god for dear life, her whimpers loud from pain and pleasure. It was all too much and had Astrid thinking second thoughts, but it was too late for that. There was no going back and no escaping a horny Jotun male needing to breed. 

Loki made a noise somewhere between a whine and a moan as his hips stuttered, spilling his seed inside of her. Astrid moaned at the feeling of his hot seed filling her up, but yelped as she felt him start to jackhammer into her again. He wrapped one of his large hands around her slender neck, staring down at her through animalistic eyes. One of her hands grasped at his wrist lightly in case she needed to signal him when she was at her limit. Astrid’s airflow was cut off, her pussy clenching down on Loki’s cock and milking him on his way to another orgasm. “Mmm my little cock slut.” His voice was rough, heavy with desire. He reached down with his freehand, playing with her clit and laughing as he watched her squirm from overstimulation. Loki squeezed her neck harder and brought her to the edge of sweet bliss as he thrust into her. “Cum. Now.” He ordered, releasing her neck and watching his wife come undone on his cock. There was a sudden glint of fluid that escaped Astrid while she came, Loki had managed to make her squirt. 

His pupils widened at this and he came on the spot, groaning loudly. Again, Astrid whined from the ropes of cum he shot inside of her. The girl panted hard, her limbs quivering and exhaustion not too far behind. Loki pulled his rock hard member out of her, placing her on her hands and knees. He watched as his cum dripped from her reddened cunt, making him lick his lips. “Ah!” Astrid jolted forth slightly from Loki entering her again. His pace remained the same and the sound of their fluids smacking together bounced off the walls. The brunette squeaked as a strong grip pulled her back flush to the prince’s chest, his breath hot on her ear. “Such a good girl taking my cock like this, my sweet girl.” He moaned into her hair, breathing in her scent and growling. While his right arm held her against his lithe torso, his left hand traveled back down to play with her sensitive nub. “Oh my god!! L-Loki I’m still sensitive!!” Astrid cried out, her legs spreading a little wider and shaking. It was not long before he had her coming hard over and over again. He would not relent or back off to let her rest as his hormones raged. 

Loki took her hand, placing it over her womb and grinning “Do you feel it? My cock fucking you? Burying my cum deep inside you?” 

“Y-Yes” she said breathlessly as her husband continued to pound away. 

“Yes what?” He growled

“Yes, my king!!” Astrid’s mouth fell open and her clit throbbed from overwhelming pleasure as another orgasm ripped through her tired body. Her eyes were so heavy and her core already ached from the relentless abuse. Astrid tensed up slightly as she felt his fingers on her clit again and another large amount of his cum spilling inside her. “T-Too much!! Too much!! Loki let me rest! Please!” She whined, gasping as he pulled out of her. Astrid was spent. She could not move at all and sleep begged to claim her. “Please.. Let me-Mmm!” She winced, feeling his cock slide back into her but Loki unmoving. “I-I’m sorry my love.” He panted into her ear, cock twitching inside of her. “I will allow you to rest for a bit until I can no longer take it. I am so sorry.” He buried his face into her long, now slightly dampened hair as he curled his body around hers. Loki would certainly try his best to give Astrid what she had required, but the voice still nagged in the back of his mind.

---------

“Brother?!” Thor called out into the cave and made his way in. 

His cheeks turned a deep shade of pink as he heard panting, moaning, and skin slapping against skin. As he walked into the room, he immediately regretted the decision as he witnessed Loki holding a very limp and exhausted, yet still coherent, Astrid. With a final cry, Loki spent the last of his seed and energy inside of his wife, collapsing on top of her and his Aesir form returning. 

“Hey, buddy what’s going on in here?” Bruce had attempted to poke his head in but Thor quickly pushed him out, his pants embarrassingly tight. “Er, my brother and Lady Astrid have been fornicating. Let us just be thankful that Stark is not here.” He gave the doctor a sheepish smile. Bruce felt his cheeks become a bit warm, “Right, right. Ahem,” He cleared his throat “Well it has been about a week and a half and I know they’re married so I can’t say I blame ‘em.” He coughed again, wanting to get the show on the road. “Oh for the love of- I’ll go get them.” Brunhilde scoffed, rolling her eyes and walking in to retrieve the debilitated couple. Thor gave yet another awkward smile, “That is exactly the issue, Banner. Loki is a Jotun... He... He has these times where he er, he goes into a..” To save Thor anymore trouble, Bruce waved his hands and nodded “I get it.” 

Thankfully, Loki and Astrid remained entwined and unconscious in each others arms the entire ride back. Thor and company had arrived a day or so ago to take care of the portal and find the missing team. The reason why it had taken them a week and a half was due to the Frost Beasts also breeding. 

----------

2 weeks later 

“I-It’s negative.” Astrid smiled sadly to Loki, showing him the test stick. His brow raised and he sighed out of relief. Just to make certain, Loki even had Bruce, Doctor Cho and a few Asgardian healers check to be absolutely sure. 

“Darling, I know-” The god paused for a moment, thinking of how to word what he wanted to say without causing any grief. “I know that you want to and I am beyond touched that you would go that far for me.” He took her arms gently and rubbed them, “Please understand that I am scared for your safety. We do not have enough research on cross breeding or if you will even survive the pregnancy let alone childbirth. Not to mention Thanos is still actively destroying everything in sight” He paled slightly and shook his head of that thought before looking back into Astrid’s eyes and pushing some hair from the frame of her face. “If I may speak freely, I am terrified that I will be no better than Odin or Laufey. I apologize for withholding information from you, but now you know why I... Why I do not want children.” He quickly placed a kiss on her head. “Be safe and have a good day at work. I will see you later.” 

With that, Astrid was left alone and tears sliding down her cheeks. She loved Loki so much and wished he would at least try to understand... But if she had to give up that dream, then she would have to- 

“O-Ow..” Astrid bent over all of a sudden, her hand on her scar. She felt.. Cold. She placed her other hand over her womb and felt the same chill. Quickly, she ran to the bathroom in hers and Loki’s shared apartment and turned the light on. Astrid lifted her shirt and saw that the skin where she held her hands was red as if she had laid in the snow. Swallowing hard, she pulled her shirt down and picked the test stick from the trash. It still read negative... “I-I must be imagining things.” She laughed nervously, swiping her clean hand through her hair and turning to wash her hands. As she turned the light off and made her way to work, the test stick changed from negative, to positive. 

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Man why am I not writing their story out as one big fic? idk. Anyways! I hope you enjoyed this <3 It definitely wasn’t as spicy but eh, I still think it was. 

taglist: @lucywrites02​

#lokistrid #loki x ofc #loki x oc smut #loki smut #tw: pregnancy #tw: breeding #my writing #mcu loki #mcu oc #writing #loki fanfic #fanfic

[for-emilia]

8 Letters.

1.

“You’ve been doing this for fucking years Del, you’d think you have some sort of schedule by now,” Emilia complained, putting together his training boots, coat and car keys at the end of the hallway like a child on the way to school.

“Yeah well I did then a pretty Latina moved in and it's not as easy to get up on a morning anymore, is it?” he raised his eyebrows accusingly as he ran, not so gracefully, down the stairs. Every morning, either one of them would complain at the cold, or that they were tired, or needed more time in bed, and they’d often end up rushing around as a result of their laziness.

“Oh so you want me to move out then? Only been here a month,” Emilia spoke sternly, always one to be dramatic and twist words just to be funny and get a reaction.

“Don’t you dare.” Dele grumbled out authoritatively, lighting something within Emilia that they definitely did not have time to acknowledge.

He finally pulled his trainers on as Emilia stuffed his football boots into the top of the bag and picked up his car keys to drop straight into his hand as he left. The midfielder pulled the duvet like puffer jacket on and stuffed his phone into his pocket, finally swinging his bag over his shoulder and standing up from his position on the stairs.

“I’ll be back by 5, don’t miss me too much, I love you,” Dele rushed out, speaking quickly and tumbling out of the door, not before giving her the tiniest most distracted kiss known to man, almost missing her mouth at the pace he was moving.

“I love you, see you later,” Emilia smiled out just as he closed the car door and reversed out of the driveway at an ungodly speed.

The morning was rushed and a tiny bit stressful, but she was so grateful for mornings like these, left at the door with a warmth in her chest and a lingering smile until he returned. She was never one to throw the phrase around, always hesitant and having to make sure she actually meant it first, but with Dele, these little nonchalant words of adoration felt so right. The three little words came with so much ease and no doubt in her mind, a feeling she’d never truly had before and never ever wanted to lose.

2.

“Mmm, baby, fuck,” Dele moaned, the deep gutteral noise bouncing off the walls even though they were meant to be quiet.

Harry had come over to stay and do some work for Leo Fortis with Dele, straightening out some press details and release information before the next launch in a few weeks time. A stressful day for both Emilia and Dele alongside being apart all day called for one thing, guest next door be damned.

“Keep going, fuck yourself on my cock,” Dele dragged out his words from the back of his throat, bringing his hands down to grip her hips and help her rhythmic movements up and down his length.

“Jefe,” Emilia whined, the sensation becoming too much, overwhelmed from the extensive foreplay that preceded the actual sex. The sensitivity, Dele’s big dick sliding in and out of her wet cunt, his big hands on her hips, his frequent moans, and the knowledge they shouldn't really be doing it, built up in the pit of her stomach, drawing her closer and closer to another orgasm.

“Gonna cum, fuck you’re so good, feel like fucking heaven,” her boyfriend gruffly moaned out, snapping his hips up in time with her bounces on his dick. Emilia didn’t even provide a warning, halting her movements as much as Dele’s grip would allow and letting herself go with a cry out of his name.

“Fuck, baby,” Dele quickly followed suit, pressing his hips as far into her as he could, finally getting his release as he tried to suppress the hundreds of moans threatening to spill out of him.

“I love you,” Dele gravelly whispered into her neck, the warm breath fanning over the expanse of skin as they both came back to Earth from the euphoric releases. Emilia chuckled quietly, not even really knowing what she was laughing at but still in the bubble of bliss, sighing as she relaxed onto Dele’s sweaty chest, with no intention of moving until the next morning.

3.

“How was today then?” his girlfriend mumbled, pulling his black hoodie up to her mouth and snuggling down into the contrasting white pillows of their bed.

“Quite chill, trained this morning, had a team lunch and meeting, team building, then played Fifa with the lads,” Dele smiled smally, “nice to finally play without Issa’s input.”

They both laughed, remembering all the times Dele had tried to play Fifa with his brother or teammates but was interrupted by Isaiah crawling over him, chewing on the remote control, even trying to join in once he was old enough to understand.

“Don’t lie, you love it,” Emilia smiled, looking into Dele’s deep brown eyes across their phone screens, wishing there was no separation.

“Yeah.. I do,” Dele whispered, leaning forwards on his arm resting on the bed where he lay on his stomach, a sadness in his eyes thinking about the bright laugh of their son that he missed immense amounts.

“He misses you,” Emilia mumbled, glancing up to the baby monitor on the bedside table while she talked about him.

“How’s madam?” Dele asked, not wanting to focus too long on Issa missing him, knowing that there’d be a plane ticket with his name on if he did.

“Making me sick but okay, Issa had a little nap in my lap against the bump today,” Emilia displayed a small smile, heart aching as she saw Dele’s face contort into adoration and pain, wanting nothing more than to be napping with them.

Neither of them said anything. The silence between them said every word neither of them could bring themselves to say. Being in each other’s virtual presence lifted the weight slightly but the ache of missing each other was always present, from the moment they separated until the second they reunited.

The curve of her eyes, the span of her cheek, the pout of her lips.. He could stare at her for hours, and he likely would, opting to fall asleep on facetime to each other nightly until he returned. But nothing compared to being able to reach out and stroke her cheek, or fix her hair, or kiss her lips.

“I love you,” Dele spoke almost silently, his face a little bit too close to the screen, trying to convince himself if he looked long enough, the features would come to life at his fingertips.

“Two more days, amor,” Emilia breathed.

“Two more days.”

4.

“Breathe, lover,” Dele stroked her hair out of her face, placing his left hand over her own, already settled and held in his right hand.

“I can’t, Del,” Emilia spoke through gritted teeth, squeezing her husband’s hand impossibly hard as another contraction washed over her body, a pain like she’d never felt before.

It felt like it’d been weeks. Weeks of incomprehensible pain and pushing this baby out. It truly felt like it was never going to end.

“And there’s her gorgeous head!” the midwife exclaimed, still sounding upbeat and excitable despite having seen a hundred other births before this one.

Dele couldn’t help but shift his weight to the left, craning his neck so he could see their third baby’s head making an appearance to the world for the first time. He didn’t have much time to be wrapped up in the beauty of it all before Emilia let out another earth shattering sound of pain.

“Nearly there baby,” Dele leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, whispering the words against her skin and wishing more than anything that he could just take all of her excruciating pain away.

“This is the worst part, it’s all easy sailing after this,” the midwife dramaticized, trying to be encouraging in the time of dire need.

“This is your fault,” Emilia whined out to Dele, still managing to be funny even when in unimaginable pain and giving birth, “fuck you.”

Dele couldn’t help but laugh at her little scrunchy face, knowing she didn’t mean an ounce of what she was saying. But it didn’t last long as the shoulders emerged and the room filled with uncontainable shrieks of pain once again.

“The shoulders are out!” the midwife announced as Emilia let out a grunt of relief, the pain in her lower half subsiding slightly now the worst part was over.

She kept pushing for around 10 more minutes, using all of her mental strength and might to push out their third baby, second daughter, and bring another little light into their world.

“I love you,” Dele said lowly into her neck, now kneeling on the floor beside the hospital bed as she pushed for one last time, the cries of their newborn immediately coming to life, “so much.”

5.

Wind whistled past the windows, contrasting with the light flutter of snow settling on the ground, sticking to their windscreen as they made their way home. Every sound surrounding the car was muffled, only the soft snores of the 3 children and the tyres against the tarmac audible.

Christmas lights whizzed past the window, softly illuminating the car every so often as they made their way through the streets, finally getting home after a fun filled day with Sally and Alan. They’d taken the kids over to see their grandparents, for a little festive day out, ending up going for a Sunday roast and visiting Santa’s Grotto, evidently tiring their children out.

Dele and Emilia were also pretty knackered, even after 2 years of having 3 children, it never got any easier. They basked in silent moments like these, taking time to collect their thoughts and relax before inevitably another ruckus was made.

“Do you remember the first time I told you I loved you?” Dele practically whispered, cutting through the white noise of their journey back home.

“Of course I do, what makes you say that?” Emilia smiled tiredly, opening her hand for Dele to reside his own in. She followed their movements with weary eyes as he brought their intertwined hands to put on the indicator before settling them in her lap.

“Just thinking about it,” Dele glanced to the side, his features brightened by the red glow of the traffic lights, changing to amber then green as he took in her sleepy appearance, making one last look down to their hands before focusing back on the road.

“I wonder how many times I’ve said it to you over the years,” Dele pondered out loud to himself, making sure he checks the rear view mirror he had tilted to see the kids, all sound asleep in the back seat, Ora slightly leaning out of her car seat onto Isaiah’s shoulder.

Emilia didn’t feel the need to reply, knowing he was in his own head and reminiscing, both thinking about the same things without having to voice it. The snoring loves of their life in the back of the car were a physical model of their love, surrounded by millions of memories that each of their parents were internally smiling at.

Dele stroked his thumb over the back of her hand soothingly as he drove, his face a lot lighter and devoid of any worry, completely at peace.

“I love you,” Dele whispered, bringing their interlocked hands up to stroke her warm cheek, prompting her to look at him from her position leaning against the cold window.

“Add one to the tally,” Emilia smiled, kissing the back of Dele’s hand softly and placing them back in her lap. All of these years and she was still so in love.

[ellana-ravenwood]

The day he lost Titus - Damian Wayne x Batmom

I was thinking about how Damian LOVES his animals so much, and how heartbreaking it would be if he lost one. And since I like writing him actually acting like the kid he is...I wrote a quick drabble about it. Hope you’ll like it :

My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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                                                       ******

It happened at the Kent’s farm.

You were invited there by Clark’s mother, who had been asking for YEARS that your family come see the farm one day. And spend a relaxing time there. Not worrying about city problems, and being surrounded by nature (”and cows, and their smell, and hay fever...” you’re pretty sure Bruce would add, a sort of disdain in his voice. He was NOT a country boy).

Martha Kent and her son were very close from each others, and more than once Clark confided in her about the struggles of being “Superman”. And how much, surprisingly, the Batman and his family actually helped out.  

Against what most people would think, given their history, Bruce was the first person to understand how lonely it was to be Superman. To be that over-powerful being, that never quite found his place in the world (at least when they first met).

He was the first one to get how alone Clark could feel, and how much he felt like an outcast. Then again, it was mainly because Bruce could truly understand what it was like.

Him too, for different reasons though, felt disconnected from “normal” people most of the time. He truly understood Clark...and through the years, in his own way, helped him out to find his place in the World.

And sure, at first, they clashed a lot. Clark had some prejudices about Bruce, and vice versa. But over the years, they truly became friends and helped each others more than they’d ever imagined.

They saved each others countless times. Every time it happened, they understood one another, and their motives, more and more. And so they slowly but surely became best friends.

When you entered Bruce’s life, Clark saw a clear shift in his behavior. 

A very welcomed one as well. It was as if a light came back in the Bat’s heart. A little flame fueled by love. And that fire was fanned by the kids entering both your lives, one by one.

You too, became close friend with Clark. Your children were friend with theirs. And Lois ? Ah you and her really got along well. You both knew which button to push to annoy your husbands, and also thought it was hilarious, to see two grown ass men getting vexed so fast.

Especially knowing it was the mighty Superman, and the fearless Batman.

In any way, long story short, Martha wanted to invite Bruce, you, and your family over because she knew how much you all counted for her son. For her grandsons. And for her beloved daughter-in-law. 

Only you all had quite busy lives, and when you could go, then Clark and/or Lois weren’t available, and vice versa.

Plus, let’s be honest, your husband wasn’t particularly thrilled about going to “Smallville”. He really was the epitome of a “city boy”. It took a little push on your part to finally convince Bruce that it was a good idea.

Though you didn’t have to spend a long time trying to convince him, in the end. Because he just had to see how excited Damian was about going (some story involving Jon talking about a cool forrest to built a tree house in or something like that) and he was sold.

It was so rare to see his son that excited about things as trivial as building a tree house...

Damian, because of how he was raised, often dismissed the childish side of him that stayed dormant for so long. So to see him embrace it like that ? Of course Bruce would finally make the time to go.

************

And here you were, on a warm Sunday afternoon, at the Kent’s farm.

You could see, as Alfred drove the car up the dusty road leading to the house, that Bruce already regretted this decision. He was looking like a goddamn brat who didn’t want to do something, and was being forced into it. 

You were 100% sure he would have rather spend the day at Wayne Manor, watching movies with his kids and you. Just him and his family. 

But hey, in your heart, the Kents were kind of family too. 

As Alfred pulled over right in front of the barn, the Kents greeted you immediately, getting out of the house. 

You barely saw your youngest son barge out of the car, and run to his friend. Jon waved at you all quickly from afar, Damian said “hello” to Clark, Lois and Martha...And off they were, followed by a very excited Titus. 

Ah, of course you took the dogs with you. It was the perfect opportunity for them to see more than Wayne Manor’s ground (though it was big enough for them to have plenty of exercise). 

Damian, Jon and Titus quickly disappeared in the fields, saying “yes yes” to Martha telling them lunch would be serve in an hour. 

“You can go too, Ace, you know ?” 

You tell Bruce’s dog, as he clearly was tempted to follow his little brother in the fields. But the dog was looking at his unhappy master, and you just knew he wouldn’t go just because he was worried about him. 

What a good boy. 

Bruce, however, wasn’t being a good boy at all...

He looked very grumpy. 

You bumped him with your shoulder, and he looked at you, his frown not disappearing though his eyes softened a bit. You rolled your eyes, and before he could say anything, you gave him some antihistaminic you took with you because you knew of his severe hay fever (another reason he disliked the country and didn’t want to come in the first place). 

He looked happy you thought about it, and even happier about the fact you seemed to have read his mind as you gave it to him before he even said something....but he still wasn’t in the best mood, and obviously did not want to be here. 

And oh Clark, Lois and Martha were walking towards you now, and you DID NOT want them to think you forced Bruce to come. Because you didn’t, he said “yes” of his own volition (well, maybe with a little convincing...), and you were certain he would have a good time. 

He was just being a grumpy boy right now, for the sake of it, really. He had a reputation to keep...Ah but a genuine smile from you, and a mischievous wink, and everything was fine for the Bat. Before he noticed, he was smiling back at you, and it was too late to go back now. 

Damn it, you tricked him again, with your cute smile and your winks to die for. 

His mood was instantly lifted, and the negative thoughts that were invading his mind until now, suddenly gave place to thoughts about how nice it was, to spend a day far from Gotham, with his children, his wife, his dogs, Alfred, and his best friends...And all of that, because you smiled at him. 

You’d certainly call him “cheesy”, and it was true. He really was right now. 

But you loved the fact you could (almost) always cheer him up with a smile and a wink. Of course, when he was in one of his genuine dark days, it took a lot more work...but right now ? His biggest problem was his hay fever (and he had the antihistaminic you gave him), and the fact he wasn’t a fan of the country side. Plus the fact he wanted to spend his only day off of the week with his family, and his family only...

But as Clark and Lois came forward, smiling brightly at them, something in Bruce’s heart softly said : “You are with your family”. 

He turned around, and although Damian and Titus left already, he was surrounded by all the people he loved. 

You. Dick. Jason. Cass. Tim. Alfred. Conner (with whom he grew close because he was Timothy’s best friend, but also because at the beginning, he was there when Clark wasn’t, and he was the one that convinced Clark to take care of him). Lois. Martha Kent (who reminded him a lot of his own mother...sometimes a bit too much. That nursing side of hers could make him feel very melancholic and missing his own mothers, at times). And the king of idiots, Clark Kent. 

Oh ! And Ace ! His lovely dog. He petted the dog between the ears, saying a low “such a good boy”, and Ace became the happiest dog on Earth. 

Yes. He was with his family. Why the Hell was he feeling so grumpy a few minutes before ? Oh well, it was in his nature to be like that, sometimes. 

Your smile, once again, saved him from all the negative thinking he was doing. He lost count long ago of the many times you saved him from falling in a dark pit of despair and sadness, with that wonderful smile of yours...

And so, when Clark came to shake his hand, Bruce Wayne was actually genuinely in a good mood, and only teased his friend lightly, taking a jab at his flannel (because hey, he couldn’t say NOTHING right ? The man would then think he was important to him or something...haha). 

Yes. As Bruce saw his kids happily following Conner inside the house, you talking with Martha, and Lois and Clark smiling at him and answering his teasing...He felt strangely appeased. 

Today was going to be a good day. 

************

Bruce was certain that today was going to be a good day. And oh it started so well. 

Tim, Cass and Conner immediately disappeared in the boy’s room to play some “Cheese Viking”, as Superboy just got the latest version and couldn’t wait to “kick their ass” (and god was he going to have a surprise, when he’ll discover that Cass was the best cheese viking player he ever met). 

Dick and Jason went to help Martha finish the remaining of the cooking. 

Both your oldest sons always liked to help Alfred cook, when they were younger. And it kind of stuck with them even now. Then again, it used to be just them and Alfred, back then. No other little siblings to pester them to play or train with them ! So of course, they’d take a liking to cooking more than their brothers and sister. 

Alfred wanted to go help too, but was shooed away by Clark’s mother who said he was too used to serve others, and needed to be pampered too sometimes. 

Clark, Lois, Bruce and you, after making sure Martha didn’t need help (after all, she shoed away Alfred and had two strong boys to help her out, she was definitely fine), were talking, gathered around the dining room’s table. 

And Bruce felt so at ease, here, surrounded by his friends and love. It was also very comforting, that his children were currently acting like “normal” people, playing outside, playing video games, or just cooking. 

It was also oddly comforting, to see Alfred snoozing away slowly, sitting on the couch (poor man hardly ever had a break). 

And Bruce was just so sure this would be a great day ! 

That’s when Damian came in, tears in his eyes, followed by a Jon whose face said it all.

Something bad had just happened. 

You didn’t know what yet, but to turn your son in that state, and for Jon to make that saddened face.

Did they fight ? No. No if they did they would be destroying the barn right now, and make so much noise that you’d go break them up.

Did they got hurt ? You never saw Damian cry because he hurt himself...in fact, the only few times you saw him cry, was when you all thought Dick was dead, when you told him he could call you “mom” and when his father forgot his birthday...

“What is it sweetie ?”

You ask him, utterly worried. 

Damian doesn’t think, and goes straight to your arms. Which shocks everyone in attendance (well, everyone but Bruce, Alfred and your children. They saw the boy clinging to you more than once when he was distressed...but they understood why it must be a shock to Clark, Lois and Jon, who only ever saw his son acting tough and confident, if not arrogant).

Sitting around the kitchen table, you catch your son and wrap your arms around him. He lays his head on your shoulder and sobs, and you know it must be really bad when your hand running up and down his back in a soothing motion doesn’t calm him, when your other free hand scratching his scalp doesn’t stop his tears...

Because those two movements combined ? It usually calmed the Wayne boys down in a matter of seconds. 

Finally, he speaks. And you understand.

“Titus is gone..”

************

It’s you, who gave him Titus.

The idea came to you one morning, as you saw Bruce and his own dog, Ace, walk in the manor’s gardens. You remembered when your husband got Ace, and how quick it clicked between them. 

And bam. It hit you all of a sudden.

You caught your Broosh hugging and talking to his dog often. 

Most of the time, Bruce would tell you what he feels, but sometimes, when you fought for example, he would vent to his dear dog. Let out his frustration. Or just talk about things he thought were too sappy, that he often ended up telling you anyway, but you know what ? At least, the dog couldn’t repeat to anyone that he called you his “sun”.

And the way Bruce was interacting with Ace is what gave you the idea.

You were going to buy a dog for Damian.

Taking care of a living thing would be great training (this was BEFORE he had his own little zoo in the cave, with cats and cows and bats and freaking dragons) for him, work on his compassion.

Besides, it was nice to have someone to whom you could vent everything to. Ideally, you wanted him to come to you whenever he had a problem, but you knew it was impossible. So...A  dog it would be.

And just like with Bruce and Ace, Damian and Titus instantly clicked. 

They both had this “high” air about them (probably coming from the fact Titus was a great dane), but under this almost arrogant looking persona, they both were extremely sensitive, and craved love and affection.

Getting him Titus did everything you hoped for, and even more. You knew for a fact that whenever your son felt down, and didn’t want to talk about it to anyone...He’d confide in his dog, and would hug him all night long. 

Titus was an easy dog. He listened well, and was calm. He was always there for his “master”, and oh him and Damian were so adorable ! 

Taking care of a living being genuinely helped Damian understand a lot of things he had difficulty to fathom, at first. In the end, Bruce was convinced that you getting him Titus was kind of vital in his development, in him becoming empathic and “human” again. 

Well, of course, your husband still thought YOU were the main reason Damian evolved that much, as you truly showed him love, compassion and forgiveness...but Titus most definitely helped. 

You were glad, you got him a dog. Glad your son had at least one best friend, no matter what. 

Today though, you wished you hadn’t done it, as he was clinging to you, crying, devastated, because Titus got lost...

************

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry ! It’s all my fault !”

“No, it isn’t...”

“But Damian, I’m the one that-”

“It’s not your fault !”

It took Damian quite a long time, before he could stop crying and choke on his tears. He only managed to tell you that “Titus was gone”, without more details, before he cried even more.

And none of you dared to disrupt him.

He looked so crushed, you had to let him have this break down moment. 

And so you just held him against your heart, trying to soothe him. 

You were quickly joined by your other sons and daughter, who were alarmed by the sound of their little brother crying. 

Them too, weren’t used to see him genuinely cry. And their comforting hands joined yours as they surrounded Damian, trying to convey their understanding and love to him. 

Your husband and Alfred stayed a bit away, not wanting to overwhelm the boy, but also trying to figure out what happened exactly ? What did he mean, Titus was “gone” ? 

When Damian finally sort of calmed down, he explained : 

“We were -choked sob- we were playing catch with Titus, and saying how fast he was bringing back the ball. So then I told Jon to throw it as far as he could ! And so he did, and Titus went running right after ! But then he didn’t came back for a long time, and -another chocked sob- when Jon flew up and used his supervision, he couldn’t see him ! So we went into the forrest, trying to find him, but he was nowhere ! And even with his supervision Jon couldn’t find him !” 

Damian fell back in your arms, and you stroked his back once more. 

“I’m sorry Damian...” 

“It’s not your fault. He always came back...If-if he was alright, he would be back by now !” 

It was cute, how Damian was clearly not angry at Jon for throwing the ball too far. It wasn’t really the boy’s fault anyway...But your boy tended to be a bit irrational, when he was angry and/or sad. The fact he didn’t get mad at his friend clearly showed how far along the road he went.

Which broke your heart even more, to see him so devastated about the fact Titus MIGHT be gone forever. 

Oh but it wasn’t your family’s style to abandon ! 

And amongst the chaos of Damian sobbing, and this fact destabilizing all of you...Ace came to the rescue. 

He came to you, and nudge you in the leg, barking. He then went on the house’s porch, and barked some more, before coming back to you, and running to the porch again. 

Bruce understood instantly what his beloved dog meant. 

“I think he picked Titus’ scent !” 

************

This was awful. 

A great day turned into a disaster. 

Ace did pick Titus’ scent up, but lost his trail at a stream. Your husband’s dog wasn’t getting any younger, and his sense of smell wasn't as great as it used to be. The stream was enough for him to lose his little brother’s track...

That’s when Clark came into action. You were all sure now, that Titus crossed that stream. Now the dog was fast, but not fast enough to escape Superman’s great heightened senses ! 

Except...Except Clark couldn’t see or hear Titus anywhere. 

And that’s when Bruce knew they wouldn’t find Titus again...If even Clark “I can smell brownies being made in Kansas while I’m in space” Kent couldn’t find him, then it meant that Titus was probably...probably...

It was rare, for Damian to jump in his father’s embrace willingly like that. They weren’t particularly big huggers, and did it only in specific situations. 

They hugged you a lot. But dad and son ? They were a bit awkward with each others at time. Except in certain situations. 

Like right now. 

Damian losing one of his best friend, his beloved dog, Titus...And so Bruce picked his little boy up (because right now, no matter what he went through, Damian truly was, just a little boy), and hugged him tight against his chest. 

************

It had been three days since Titus disappeared, and Damian was still unconsolable. 

For the first time since he entered your lives, he didn’t want to go out on patrol. For three nights in a row...He didn’t even felt like venting his frustration and sadness by kicking bad guys’ asses ! 

The loss of his dog really hit him hard. 

You knew he loved him, but you never realized to what extent. It felt as if he just lost a member of his family...And in a way, he really did. 

Titus was here when neither you, nor his father or siblings were around. 

Titus was here on long nights when Damian was too worried about bothering you, or anyone, and needed comfort. 

Titus was here when Damian was angry with you, and needed to vent. 

Titus was here on cold nights, to warm him up, or on hot days, to give him some shades simply by standing next to him. 

Titus was here to help him out on some of his cases ! The few ones Bruce accepted he’d research alone ! 

Titus was always here. 

And now, now he was gone. Probably forever. Because even if Superman himself couldn’t see any sign of him, it probably meant...meant...

Titus must have had an accident. Fell somewhere. Fell to his dea-

Damian couldn’t even think about it, but at the same time, he had to be realistic. They searched that forrest for ages. AGES ! Superman and two Superboys were with them ! Clark, Jon and Conner didn’t find ANYTHING ! 

Which meant...

For the hundredth time in three days, Damian started to cry just thinking about it. And right now, none of his family members were available, as it was the middle of the day (you and Bruce allowed him to not go to school until he would feel better). 

Usually, when Damian felt blue and no one was around...Well, at least Titus would be ! 

The door to Damian’s room, that wasn’t quite closed, slowly opened, and the boy’s heart leapt in his chest ! This slow creaking sound, it was the exact same one Titus would make whenever he’d push the door open with his nose !

Full of hope, your son turned around to find...Ace. 

It was Ace. 

The loss of his “little brother” hit the dog hard too, even more so since he wasn’t able to track him. Ace had been particularly demanding lately, asking you and Bruce to pet him whenever you were home. He’d come sleep on your bed too, which he never did before. 

And he also spend much more time with Damian than he used to, both feeling the clear absence of Titus...

************

Dick had always been confident in his ability to cheer his siblings up. He knew what they all liked, and what relaxed them ! 

He’d often surprise them with their favorite things, whenever he felt like they needed a “pick-me-up”. Ever since Jason was officially adopted, Dick took his role of older brother VERY seriously. 

And though this time it took him a few days to get into action (the time to gather everything he needed), he was SURE that he would be able to lift Damian’s mood, if only a little bit...

But oh. Oh was he wrong. 

Damian did not react to the offer of playing “Cheese Viking”. He didn’t say anything when he gave him his favorite sweets. He barely acknowledge all the trouble Dick went through to bring everything he loves...

Usually, even Damian would be utterly grateful to Dick for all his efforts. No one could stay stone faced in front of such dedication ! Dick either went all in or didn’t do anything at all ! 

He truly was, the champion to cheer his little siblings up ! And even if they still felt bummed after a day with him, they’d at least be extremely thankful to him existing...Because yes, no one could have no reaction to their brother going through a lot just to help them out ! 

And yet, yet Damian didn't react to anything. And after a few failed attempt from Dick, the boy even told him that he just wanted to “be alone”, and went back to his room, sitting at his window, like he had been those past  few days. 

Damian sat there, not eating or drinking much, staring at the Manor’s front gate, hoping Titus would come back...

And all of Dick’s attempt fell flat. 

It seemed like nothing, NOTHING, could ever cheer the boy up again...

************

“It’s really not your fault, Jon.”

“Then, why doesn’t he want to see me anymore ?”

Tim was at the Kent’s farm, there to give them news about the Titus/Damian situation, and to go back to the forrest in the hope to find the dog again...

Tim was known to never give up, no matter the odds. 

He was the only one SURE that your husband wasn’t dead, all those years ago, when he disappeared for so long after a Justice League mission. And even as you abandoned ever seeing him again, Tim didn’t. 

Therefor, for the past week, your son went back to the Kent’s farm over and over again, and joined Jon and Conner in the search for Titus. By that point, Tim just wanted to find the dog back, no matter which state he would be in...

At least, if they found Titus passed away, Damian could slowly start to heal and properly mourn, right ? 

Of course, your boy was still hoping to find Titus alive ! 

They were looking for the hundredth time around the forest, when Tim noticed how down Jon seemed to be. 

“He doesn’t really want to see anyone. Not even our mom. Usually, he’d cling to her 24/7, if he was truly feeling sad ! But right now, he just wants to be left alone in his bedroom. So really, I don’t think he’s mad at you. I just think the grieving process is taking a lot of time for him right now...” 

“But it’s kind of my fault, I threw the ball too far. I can’t control my strength yet, it was stupid to use it all...” 

“Jon, Damian asked you to do it. None of you could know something bad would happen, ok ? And hey, maybe Titus is fine, and just got lost somewhere. And we have to find him, ok ?” 

Jon didn’t seem convinced, but that probably was because Tim wasn’t really either. But hey, for his brother ? Timothy Drake-Wayne would spend the rest of his life coming to this forest, day after day, in the hope to find Titus somehow. 

************

Jason knew how it felt, to loose a dog. 

He lost his a few years back. When he died, his beloved dog “Curtis” (he couldn’t even remember why he called his dog that name) let himself die of sadness. 

No matter how much you and Bruce tried to cheer him up, how much Ace tried too...Curtis just wasn’t the same, after Jason’s death. And just a year after your son was gone, his dog died too. You were sure he died of sadness, as the veterinarian didn’t find anything wrong with him...

Only Jason wasn’t dead. And when he came back, finally deciding to come home after quite a while of hatred and feelings of vengeance...he discovered his dog was gone. 

He was devastated. Felt like the World hated him. Why ? Why did Destiny let him die so young, killed by a maniac ? And got resurrected by another maniac ?  And why, WHY DID THEY HAVE TO TAKE HIS DOG ?! 

Yes. Jason knew exactly how it felt to loose your “best friend”, and so, he’s the only one that didn't try to cheer his little brother up. 

Instead, he would come in his room to give him a nice warm, comforting cup of tea. Or lay a blanket on his shoulders when it was a bit cold. 

He would come and sit silently with him, staring at the front gate too, putting all his energy into the wild hope that maybe Titus would come back. 

Jason would just...be there. A warm presence, that sometimes Damian would cuddle up too without even noticing. 

As odd as it sounded, Jason kind of tried to sort of take Titus’ place, and became that comforting warmth against which Damian snuggled when he felt particularly sad. 

The boy would never utter a word, and sometimes, Jason wondered if he even registered that he was clinging to him with all his might. 

Jason became the only one able to stay around Damian, without him telling him to go away. Why ? Simple. 

Because your Jason knew the pain of loosing his dog. 

And knew what he wished he could have when he lost him...at the time, fortunately you and Bruce were here for him, but it wasn’t quite what he needed. 

Sure, your hugs were as healing as ever. But he didn’t want to hear how sorry everyone was. He just wanted something to cling to in silence, and to be left alone with his grief. 

Which is what he gave Damian. By sitting silently beside him, and being that warm comforting presence the boy could hold on to. 

************

Alfred had no idea how to fix this. 

He was able to bring back some joy to Bruce when he lost his parents, by taking care of him as if it was his own son. 

But Damian ? Damian kept sending everyone (but Jason) away. 

He didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to do anything. 

And this was destabilizing for Alfred, because talking and being there to listen to his master, is how he was able to give his master Bruce some semblance of happiness ! 

Your beloved butler was slowly starting to panic, not knowing how to fix this situation. Because so far, he always found a way to reach the ones he came to call “family”. 

You. Bruce. Tim. Jason. Dick. Damian. Cassandra. 

He was always able to reach you all. Except right now. 

And this was extremely distressing, for the old man he was...

************

Cass felt just as powerless as Alfred, but for another reason. 

Her and Damian always understood each other, since they had quite a similar childhood. A parent trying to turn them into weapons. A clear lack of love, and empathy. 

Yes. Her and Damian got along instantly, understanding each others’ trauma and being there to catch the other one up when they fell. 

But right now, she had nothing to relate to, nothing to compare Damian’s pain to. Because, fortunately, she never felt the pain of loosing someone she loved. 

All the people that counted the most in her life were alive and well, so how could she understand what her little brother was going through ? 

She just didn’t know how to react. And Damian wasn’t making it easy to understand...He kept sending her away whenever she tried to talk. Whenever she tried the technique that always worked before. 

Like mimicking their mother and stroking his back. Or smiling at him. 

Nothing that usually worked, would work now. 

And Cassandra felt lost. And powerless. 

She kept herself up almost every nights, researching the internet for ways to cheer her brothers up...But everything she tried would fail. Over and over again. It was so disheartening, and she wanted to help him so bad ! 

But it seemed like she couldn’t...

************

You and Bruce shortly thought about getting him another dog, but then realized it would be very insensitive. Titus wasn’t gone since a long time, though there was almost no chance he would ever come back. 

And getting Damian another dog would send the wrong message. There was still a little sliver of hope. Thin, yes, but still. Buying him a new pet would shatter everything, end break him entirely. 

You couldn’t do that. 

Not yet. 

Maybe later, when he’ll finally get over his heartbreak ? 

Oh but no new dog could ever compare to his beloved Titus ! 

Both you and Bruce took the entire affair hard too. 

Firstly because it was utterly heartbreaking, to see your son in so much pain, and secondly because it seems like nothing you could do could ever cheer him up again ! 

Before that fateful day where he lost Titus, you, or Bruce, or anyone from the family always had a solution at some point to cheer the boy up ! 

But it seemed like this time, he truly was unconsolable. Truly, genuinely heartbroken. 

Then again, he never felt such a pain before, as whenever he “lost” someone, they turned up later on all well and alive. But this time...this time there was almost no chance Titus would ever show up again. 

And he truly was Damian’s first, and best friend. 

He was the one that was always there, and that had been there since almost day one as soon as he began his new life at the Manor ! 

Losing him was devastating. That you and Bruce understood. It’s just that...Usually, you’d hold your children tight and things would pass. 

But this time, it didn’t work. This time, he didn’t want to let you do that. 

And both you and your husband were really starting to take this all situation hard. Seeing your son suffering like that was awful. 

But, what could you do ? You, and all your family members had been wracking your brains for days, without finding a solution. 

Except maybe finding Titus, but that seemed more and more impossible. 

************

Two weeks went by, without much improvement from Damian. 

He started to go back to school, and on patrol...but without much enthusiasm. He talked a bit to you, to Bruce, to Alfred or to his siblings. But it was always very short, monosyllabic, and then he’d go again isolate himself in his room. 

You’d all try over and over to cheer him up, but it seemed he truly became the definition of the word “unconsolable”. And so it’s with a certain gloom, that life continued at Wayne Manor...Without Titus, or Damian’s carefree laugh when he was happy. 

Or trademarked “tt”. Or cockiness. Or sweetness. Or arrogance. Or...

Without Damian. Who he really was. The boy was but a shell of himself, and it was starting to make you all feel hopeless, to not find a solution to all of this. 

************

You were driving home from your office in town, trying to think of a way to bring your son back, as you did this past two week, when...Were you dreaming ? How was that even possible ?! 

No, but it was...Was it ? 

You smashed the breaks on your car, and it drifted a little bit on the gravel road leading to Wayne Manor. 

You exited your car and...There, sitting calmly in front of the gate, was Titus. 

But was it really him ? 

“Titus ?” 

The dog whipped around, and his tail excitedly went from left to right. He started to run to you and..Yes, no doubts. 

You could recognize the way he was licking your face, and his size, and that little spot behind his ear...It was really Titus ! 

And he had a tennis ball in his mouth ?

But...How did he- ?! 

Ah well, it didn’t matter. Because he was back ! 

Damian ? Where was Damian ?!

Oh, right. At school. Should you just put Titus in your car and drive to his school ? Ah but school would end in less than an hour, and driving all the way over there would take longer. 

Well, maybe you should just prepare him a nice surprise ? 

************

When you came down in the bat cave with Titus, Ace lost his mind. 

The poor dog jumped in the air, and excitedly ran to his “little brother” (who actually was bigger than him) to give him the best greeting ever ! 

Ace ran around Titus, and they both jumped at each others, playful. They then rolled around the floor together, cuddling. Titus was clearly happy to be home ! 

Bruce just stood there, staring at the dogs, not quite believing his eyes. Oh but you could understand of course, because you felt the same ! 

Titus was home. 

Titus was home ! 

************

As you waited for Damian, Bruce ran some test on Titus, just to make sure the dog was alright, you know ? 

After all, he supposedly spend two weeks all alone in the wild ! 

Bruce found some lead stuck in his fur, and quickly cleaned him as the metal was quite a toxic one. But just as quickly, he came up with an explanation as to where was Titus, and why neither Clark, nor Jon or Conner could find him ! 

“Superman’s supervision doesn’t work through lead. We can assume his sense of smell and hearing work the same ?” 

The lead in Titus’ fur made Bruce do some research and...There was an entire area in Smallville’s forrest, that had lead deep in its ground. Bruce theorized that Jon’s thrown ball fell at the bottom of a cave, that had a small entrance in which only a dog could get in, and that was hard to spot even for people like Superman and the Superboys...and the rest was history. 

Titus really was a good boy. There was NO WAY he’d come back to his master without the ball his friend threw ! He clearly was expecting him to come back with it ! And so Titus went deep into that cave filled with lead, making him invisible to the Kents. 

Bruce guessed that the dog got lost, his senses overwhelmed by the cave, and only managed to get out later on. Then probably, when he came back to where Damian was, he realized the boy and the rest of the family left and...Went on a journey back home ! 

Bruce and you read weirder stories in the paper, about animals crossing the goddamn country just to find their owners again. Dogs were incredible creatures, truly. 

When your husband checked the walking distance from Smallville to Gotham, from Kansas to New Jersey...It said that a human walking at normal speed and taking breaks would take a little over 16 days. 

A dog ? As young and tonic as Titus ? Two weeks made sense. 

And sure, he looked a bit thinner than last time they saw him, but he clearly managed alright, as except for the dangerous lead stuck in his fur, Titus was healthy ! He was a hunting dog, after all...

Alfred was next to see the dog back, and Titus was as happy as the butler to see him ! Mainly because he knew the nice old man was the one who’d give him great leftover food...Alfred actually cooked an entire meal for Titus. 

Ah but the dog really deserved it ! 

************

Damian came home from school, feeling as blue as ever. 

He really tried to be more cheerful, for the sake of his family...but he couldn’t quite managed it yet. He wasn’t over Titus. He’d probably never be over Titus ! But he knew one day he would feel better. 

He knew one day, he could feel happy again. 

Except right now, his beloved dog’s disappearance was way too recent ! 

Damian opened the front door of the manor and was faced with all his siblings lined up, smiling brightly at him. Um, what was going on ? 

They went with him to the bat cave, refusing to tell him what was up and...

Damian’s heart leapt out of his chest. Could it be ? Was it really him ? No, impossible...And yet, the dog trotted excitedly towards him and...

Damian lost it. 

He ran to Titus, and fell on him, hugging him tight against him. 

The dog proudly let the tennis ball Jon threw on the floor, but Damian barely registered it...

He cried tears of joy, and felt like he could never let go of his dog again ! Titus, as nice and obedient as ever, just laid there, tail flapping and tongue out of his mouth, waiting for his little master to stop hugging him ! 

Damian cried and cried, burying his face in his fur, and repeating his name over and over again. 

Each time Damian said “Titus”, emotions overflowing in his voice, the dog’s ears would move as if he was waiting for Damian to tell him what to do...but the boy just wanted to hug his dog. 

It felt like such a heavy weight leaving all of your shoulders. You heard your children, Bruce and Alfred sigh in relief, and you were pretty sure you did it too. 

For the first time in two weeks, you all felt happy again. Because Damian was happy too. And in your family, when one was unhappy, everyone felt it. 

That’s how tight you all were. 

Damian was clearly struggling and heartbroken. And none of you could do anything about it, except for being there for him, hoping time would slowly heal his heart...

So seeing him right now, on his knees, holding his dog tight...It felt nice. 

It felt very nice. 

You didn’t even notice that almost two hours passed, as you all just looked fondly at Damian and Titus cuddling, crying and being the happiest of boys about finding each others again. 

************

The day he lost Titus was one of the worst one in Damian’s short life.

He went through a lot, in his early childhood with the Al’Ghuls, and yet...nothing compared to the lost of his dog. In fact, only losing you, his father, Alfred or one of his siblings could really hit him as hard as loosing his dog.

Realistically, Damian knew that Titus would die way longer than before he would. Dogs didn’t live as long as humans, unfortunately (though Damian watched “Frankenweenie”, and secretly tried to find a way to keep Titus well and alive for way longer than supposed to...). 

But Titus was still very young. Just like Damian was. 

It was in those moments, that you were reminded that your son really was just a child. And that no matter how tough he acts, certain things would break his heart. 

Damian was already your “baby”, but after that episode you took even more care in nurturing that child side he still had, no matter what the Al’Ghul did to him. Because he was, for now, still a little kid...

And as you decided to make even more sure that Damian would live as much a “normal” life as he could, Ace started to become extremely protective of Titus. 

Funny enough, it seemed to exasperate the great dane. You swore that you saw Titus roll his eyes more than once, as Ace shielded him for whatever danger ! You guessed dogs truly did resembled their masters, right ? 

Because Titus definitely had some Damian in him, and Ace some Bruce. It showed in their “attitudes”. 

In any case, this entire awful experience reminded all of you of a lot of things, and of what truly mattered. 

Family. 

And how the wellbeing of said family was dependent on everyone being happy. Truly. It made all of you even more aware of each others’, and even tighter. 

All thanks to Titus, who really wanted to be a good boy, and bring back that ball to his master !

The end. 

_________________________________________________

Another little bonus story, while I slowly but surely write bigger, more developed stuffs :) (like chapter two of the Batfam being thrown in the Marvel world :)). I still hope you liked this short very self-indulgent fic I wrote in a very short span of time while being extremely sleep deprived and sad. And...Boom. As usual, feedbacks and reblogs are beyond appreciated. 

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Wayne imagine #Batmom #Batfam #Batfamily #Batfam x Reader #Batfam imagine #Batfamily imagine #Titus Wayne #Bruce Wayne #Damian Wayne #Titus the dog #Clark Kent imagine #Cassandra Cain imagine #Jon Kent imagine #Lois Lane imagine #Superman imagine #Superboy imagine #drabble #Jason Todd imagine #Richard Grayson imagine #Tim Drake imagine #Conner Kent imagine #Cass Cain imagine #Jason Todd x Reader #Richard Grayson x Reader #Tim Drake x Reader #Batboys

[jeaneybean]

@raptorsquadblue

Here yo update on the Vera

We’ll go back to when she had the baby, which was back in the in world equivalant of November. I had a chart to roll on for how she’d act when she saw the baby, and when I rolled it was the awful ‘She loves him, but is terrified she’ll ruin him’ so the poor baby, who still doesn’t have a proper name, gets a bit neglected from mommy as she pulls into herself and tries to push him on everyone else. Havilah eventually gets some awful backstory when he tries to get her to hold the baby because it needs her and learns her dad threw her down a flight of stairs at one point and broke her arm. She doesn’t deal well with early motherhood, even less so when Bip detect thoughts on the baby to read his baby thoughts and he’s wanting her heartbeat because that’s the sound he’s heard his entire life.

Vera’s still struggling a month later when she gets a letter from home, from her father, disowning her. This is the first thing to really get her mind clear from how rageful she is. She lets Havilah read the letter (and he rips off the name portion, as does Amy to the prop Sam gave me) before going off to write a letter of her own back to him. She tells him that he can’t disown her, basically, and that ‘I have the echoes of your adoring parenting etched into my bones’ and ‘There is no power on this earth, not arcane nor divine, that can change that I’m your daughter’. and at this point is all on the ‘okay let’s go back to langly and beat the shit out of my dad’ route.

However it’s heavy winter in the country they’re in, and they get snowed in. No one is happy about this. Bip hibernates. Havliah’s like ‘aaaaaa’ Oz is like ‘why is the snow sticking around’ Vera is like ‘oh dear sweet redeemer NO’ and eventually talks her way into a werewolf run with her and bear to get out of the castle walls.

Once the weather’s good the caravan packs up and finishes our last business in the country (killin vampires) before getting out of dodge. WE have some more usual adventures and Vera crams the new law book her husband sent her (not at all looking at the law named for her family that lays out in writing laws against child abuse. Her twin brother had always been braver than she is, after all). They have some adventures with hags and meet another adventuring party, and they roll up to the grand town of Dragonport which is the biggest city in the world.

We have like a two month tournement arc, with a sidequest of a group of investors wanna meet with us and have us talk to the queen for them. They’re trying to get a postal service started. Turns out, they’re a group of Brass dragons that realized (unbeknownst to us) that they can get that sweet sweet goss from letters (that they magically re-seal after reading) AND people pay them to deliver. The party goes before high court and argues before the child queen and her advisors and the dragon post is started. Meanwhile the group fights in a tournement honoring the gods Mayana and Shepard. Havilah’s appendix ruptures and the enitre group is like a what is an appendex aaaah.

Jasna wins the tourney, and we also gain a new party member named Desert Glass, she’s a half blue dragon (and the entire party was INSTANTLY horny on main when she came out. Magnolia’s player is back and playing a different character.) and we head on ship to Langly. We have to make a pit stop in Spea, because despite paying insurance and having a contract, we’re attacked by Spea pirates. (It’s like. A government job.) We go to Spea, meet Oz’s mom, go to Oz’s college and yell at his headmaster, and we get on a boat and go to Langly. Vera’s baby Mishka says his first word, which is fuck. Vera: Oh right these learn to talk.

On the way to Langly we’re again attacked, this time by a plesiosaur from Dinosaur island that’s being followed by Sahaugin. There was a notable moment where Vera called over and asked these Sahaguin if they worked for Spea (because a lot do, in tandem with the pirates) and they were like FUCK SPEA GIVE US THE (thing that was riding on the plesiosaur). I beleive I narrowed my eyes and Taylor started snorting, because Vera does not like to be told what to do.

Oz turne his familiar Veli into an 11 headed hydra and sent her down to murder sahaguain. This was terrifying and amazing and it deserves it’s own damn paragraph.

A day before we land in Langly, Bip bips off to mainland and finds Vera’s husband and is basically like ‘hey getinto this bag of holding I’ll take you to your wife’ and Vera’s beautiufl idiot husband is like ‘oh okay’ and climbs in and wakes Vera up the next morning. 

When they land Mishti takes them around on tour, but eventually the baby (Mishka, as Vera’s been calling him. Her little teddy bear) starts fussing and Vera puts him into Bear’s saddle bag because baby is comofted by bear. Of course, Bear has never been to this city before and gets lost. With the baby. So they have to start tracking the baby down and go to the watch headquarters- which is in Vera’s house that she grew up in. (Grandmama, who controls all the deeds in the family, evicted Vera’s father and gave the building to the watch) So Vera’s gotta go up the stairs and greet Allahandra, a paladin in her order and the former queen, and get her dam baby back. THe baby swears at Allahandra delightedly. Vera is beyond mortified.

The next day Vera gets a summons from Grandmama asking her and her friends over for tea. Vera’s like ‘hey guys, here’s a rule: have fun where you can because no one has fun with Grandmama.’ Beofre they leave Oz stops MIshti and asks him if there’s any new developments that the family could use against Vera. Msithi admits a big one: Vera’s brother was also disowned. However, he’s ran away to join the Von Rothrine family. Y’know. The vampires we’ve been fighting in MOntesylvania. Vera reacts appropriately bad.

 When they go in to Vera Medvedeva the first’s tea room she has cakes and treats set out for everyone. They’re customized. Treats from vera’s favorate bakery, she makes traveler’s coffee when she sits down for Havilah, there’s citrus cakes from Spea for Oz, Mamoul and date candies for Desert Glass, sugary treats for Bip. Grandmama comes in and throws her weight around when she can, drops that Desert Glass is apparently a princess from the country of Dasadan, but she seems mostly interested in creeping out Havliah and Oz and also telling everyone about Vera’s past. Poor Girl. She wasn’t allowed to have friends, you know. Her father insisted. And did you know she couldn’t read until she was eight? I had to step in and get her a tutor. Vera SMASHES a sense motive and is like ‘We’re not killing dad for you, Grandmama’. Grandmama, for her part, seems amused by everyone.

They head out, Vera getting the butler to call her father down to talk to her. He’s still big like she remembers, and he tries to blame her for her brother being taken by vampires. (SHe brought this on the family. IF she hadn’t used their name it never would’ve come. they had to offer him up like a lamb to slaughter) and vera has a good moment where she’s basically like: stop blaming me for all of your problems, you’re a grown ass man and I know if you had a chance to grab any power you’d let them drain you dry.

It’s good she has that one moment, because that’s the last one she has for a while.

She gets the party together and is basically like: I wanna get my dad legally. I want to catch him breaking the law, I want him tried, and for once I want the lawt o work for me. So Bip and Oz start a mini crime gang (Because vera also is like ‘I have otaths i cannot crime) and Bip sets the house attached to Grandmama’s on fire because he’d followed Sieger in there through a hidden passage. Meanwhile, having a perfect alabi across town is Vera drinking in the watch’s favored bar. OUr entire party had a perfect alabai.

Vera gets a few more mental blows to go with the ‘my twin brother is going to be a vampire and when I scried on him he looked happy for the first time in years’ one she’s got going in the form of actually going to church and thinking the new pope hates her as well as a second tea with Grandmama. Meanwhile, Bip steals letters from the post box to find out Sieger’s been in contact with Anton Bellek, a vampire from Durmond that tried to get the party to work with him. Also: The first person Vera introduced herself to as Vera Medvedeva, because she didn’t want to use her marrie dname. Her father hadn’t been lying: she did bring the vampires to his door. Though, he’s been working with them. And he plans on leaving the city soon.

So the group takes this all to Vera, who takes the ‘you did in fact lead the undead to your family’s door and now your brother is going to be a shell of who he used to be’ B A D. She makes a decision that she refuses to let him leave the city  and get out into the world. She’ll feel responsible for everything else she does. If she falls, she falls.

The party: but you said specifically you didn’t wanan do that though.

So Vera leaves to go find her mentor, who’s over the moon because the pope, after meeting with Vera, approved him getting funding for his pet project inspired by Vera, which is a research division to help questing paladins. Vera’s like ‘I’ll unpack ths later’ and drags him into a room to ask him if he’s ever fallen. He had, twice. He tells her about both and she asks the question: Was it worth it. Hesitantly, he says it was, and all but begs her to be careful. She promises him everything will be okay.

Meanwhile, the party comes up with the only plan they can: The easiest thing they can get him to jail for is assault. Desert GLass had asked Vera if she’d be fine being bait earlier and she’d said yes, so the plan is to send Vera to talk to him and get him to punch her. They break apart like ‘go team’ and go to find Vera and Havilah, who’d pulled her into a talk where vera is like ‘I am totally cool with murder’ and he’s like ‘please let us help you not fall’.

SO back over to the family house and Vera’s like HEY HEAD BUTLER LET’S GO TALK TO MY DAD and gets let into his room where she basically acts like she owns the place. They argue, Vera being a vicious as she can, and eventually he grabs her by the arm and pulls her to her feet and throws her a bit, and when she refuses to retaliate he lunges. Before Havilah can get into the door he manages to do like 20 points of damage to her, all his unarmed strikes do a good ammount (and he beat all of her grapple checks, and one of hers was a 28. Curious) Havliah knocks him into unconciousness with one head crack into the floor (also curious) and they call the guard.

Oz points out something to desert glass because he feels terrible: their grand plan was sending an abused woman back alone to incite the man who abused her. This marks the point where vera stops sleeping, btw.

Bip has a horrifying encounter with sieger when he goes to fuck with him in jail where Siger snatches him out of the air twice and pulls him against the cold iron bars purpousley to hurt him.

Allahandra comes by the next day and poses the idea of Vera going to get her older brother Genya to testify and Ver’s like ‘yeah I should do that’ and the party goes up there. Vera is very, very not interested in talking to Genya and doesn’t look to him, and the party notes both of their very defensive posture. Vera stays behind in the wagon while the rest of the party goes intside, but with some force from the party Genya goes out to give Vera dinner and to offer her to come inside.

Vera finally lets loose on him, which is basically like “I lost Volya, Genny. I lost my brother”. And Genya asks her if she thinks the law will actually kill their dad, and she laughs and tells him that if it doesn’t she will. She comes int he house when he offers again, though her postiure is very defensive and she doesn’t really interact. She also doesn’t sleep that night.

The party heads back to Langly and as soon as they get back to the caravan, everyone but Vera (who at this point has a -6 to all her rolls from being exhausted) hear the news: Vera’s Grandmama was found dead that morning. Oz and havilah take her to her husband for him to break the news. Anya tells Genya, who’s basically like ‘good riddance, if they iill dad too this’ll be a great week’.

Vera does not take the news well. She walks off to the first room with a lock she can find and breaks down sobbing. Grandmama’s a terrible person, she’s a legitimate monster, but Vera still loved her.

Through some magical intervention she’s forced to sleep that night and wakes up and goes to church grumbinglyly, getting her prayers out ofr the first time in like three or four days so she’ll actually have magic and her bear. This is also the point where her 12th level that she put into Dragon Rider pops in, because she gets her dragon. He’s red. He’s pretty much instantly attacked by mercinaries. His name means Smart Ash. Vera loves him already.

More stuff happened, and Vera’s still in a horrible god awful mood, and as she’s gonnat ell the dragon she’s still 50-50 on if she just burns the rest of the Medvedevs down at the funeral because the only ones she cared about are daed. But we’ll see!

[department-shoe-stud]

A Series of Successful Pranks

Annie and Jay aren’t actually that bad at pranks.

They’re just godawful at getting away with said pranks.

1. The Pink Dust Bomb in Gambol and Japes (c. August, 1979)

“Okay, you know the plan, Pip?” Anna Louise looks up at her brother and nods, giving a wicked grin.

“Ready to go.” Jacob nods and walks up to the store owner, rattling off inane questions, while Annie ducks behind an aisle of Gambol and Japes’. She sets the jinxed box down and presses the timer. She quickly walks up to Jay and nods. He nods back, says goodbye to the owner, and the two quickly leave.

“Three,” Annie says, door closing behind them.

“Two,” Jay replies, turning back to look at the shop.

“One,” They say in unison, and fall into uncontrollable laughter as the inside of the windows of the store get covered entirely in pink dust. Customers come rushing out, coughing out pink dust and wiping it off their clothes, only for it to immediately suction itself back onto them.

“Jacob Leon and Anna Louise!” The siblings’ roaring laughter is cut short at the sound of their mother’s voice, and they turn to see her standing there, arms at her hips, fury in her eyes.

Jay looks down at his little sister. “Race you to freedom?”

Annie looks back up at him, then kicks his shin as hard as she can. “Every man for herself!” She turns and sprints off down the streets of Diagon Alley as her brother grunts in pain, and their mother scolds him.

Annie makes it around the corner of Gringotts before the pull of Accio takes her over and she falls on her back, being zoomed back to the feet of her mother and brother, looking furious and betrayed accordingly.

“...Hi Mum. Would you believe me if I told you Jay made me do it?”

Aoife O’Reilly was many things. A fool was not one of them. She didn’t believe Anna Louise for a moment.

2. The Jinxing of the Phillip Jones Brass Ensemble (c. May, 1980)

“Nobody saw us come in, right?” Anna Louise shakes her head as Jacob glances back at door, not trusting her lookout skills.

“Jay, I’m a hundred and forty-five centimetres tall. If someone say me sneak in, they deserve a better security job than a concert hall,” Annie says, crinkling her nose at the mere fact that this is the site of their next prank.

Jay crinkles his nose back at her and rolls his eyes. “This is gonna be wicked, I promise.” He peeks his head over the theater's seats and, upon seeing they’re empty, sprints down to the pit, Annie protesting as her short seven year old legs struggle to follow. Jay hops over the barrier, just barely sticking the landing, and grins up at Annie as she finally catches up, pouting down at him, winded. “Well, c’mon, Pip.” He turns back to the large brass orchestra all nicely set up before him as Annie grumbles and slowly climbs down the stairs.

“This is stupid,” She mutters, and Jay snorts, rolling his eyes as he takes out a wand.

“Is not.”

“Is too.” She eyes the wand, squinting and tilting her head. “Isn’t the school gonna know that you did magic outside?”

“They track the magic using your wands, which is why I took a spare from Charms. You’ll like Charms, Flitwick is grand.”

Annie nods, then squints. “Wait, are you sure?”

Jay nods, grinning. “Positive.”

Jacob was eighty-six percent sure. It fluctuated on a minute-by-minute basis.

“Now, watch this...” He grins, winks at Annie, and mutters a homemade jinx. A fine layer of what appeared to be blue glitter settles over each instrument. Annie looks up at Jay, underwhelmed, until Jay smirks, flicks his wand, and the entire orchestra begins loudly blasting ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’. Annie slaps her hands over her ears, racing after Jay as they flee through the fire exit, setting off an additional alarm as Muggle guards begin to flood in.

~~~

“Good news!” Jay announces, strolling into the parlor with a toothy grin. “Since no Muggles were present. the Ministry let me off with a warning.”

Annie lets out a whoop as Mum O’Reilly raises an eyebrow at her husband, walking in after their son.

“Bad news?” She asks, and Papa O’Reilly turns to his son with a scowl.

“Jacob’s under house arrest for the rest of the summer.”

Annie boos. “Why would the Ministry do that?”

“They aren’t. We are.” Papa O’Reilly jerks his head up the stairs, and Jay stomps up them to his room.

“Papa?” He turns to his daughter, who look him dead in the eyes, and blows raspberries at him. He shakes his head, ruffles her hair, and walks into the kitchen, opening the window to let the family owl Scuddlebeak in.

3. The Great Magical Castlebar Stampede of 1981 (c. January, 1981)

“Being the amazing older brother that I am,” Jacob announces as he and Anna Louise march down Main Street with mysteriously rattling packages in hand, “I have decided to give you an amazing birthday present before I am inevitably dragged back to Hogwarts.” He sighs, pouting at his sister. She giggles, and shifts her box as it starts its escape attempt.

“I dunno, Jay. Making me carry my own present’s kinda lame.”

“No no, it’ll be wicked Pip, I promise.” She hums, scrunching her nose, and following after him as he turns into an alley. She gasps, and he shushes her as she stares, wide-eyed, at the array of magical beasts gathered in the small side street.

“How...?” Annie asks, breathless. Jay laughs, setting his package down and grabbing the box from her hands as well.

“I know a few people who owe me a few favors.” She blinks at him, and slowly grins.

“Did you get me a bunch of magical creatures for my birthday?” He laughs.

“No, we don’t have the space.” Annie’s grin immediately drops into a frown, and Jay claps his hands. “But! We’re gonna have fun anyway.” Annie cocks her head.

“How? Petting zoo?” He looks back down at her wide, hopeful eyes and laughs again, slightly less ecstatic.

He hadn’t expected her to be so about magical creatures. When had that happened?

“Ever heard of the Running of the Bulls?” She blinks, and turns back to the animals.

“Wait, really?” Annie gasps, looking between him and the Abraxans. He nods, and she slowly starts to grin as well, much to Jay’s relief.

“Really. C’mon Pip, it’ll be a gas.” She eagerly helps him with the ropes around the larger creatures, then excitedly helping him open the boxes filled with Puffskeins.

“Ready?” Jay asks, and Annie grins wickedly, nodding manically. Jay grins back, and blows a whistle. The noise startles the animals, and they take off running down Main Street. Annie and Jay sprint out into the street to watch as people dodge out of the way of the animals. Most look alarmed, while others, the ones Annie recognizes as the other wizards and witches, look downright shocked.

“I should have figured.” Jay and Annie both freeze at the familiar voice, and turn to see their lovely neighbor Mrs. Finnigan and her infant son Seamus. Seamus is staring, transfixed at the animals as his mother stares at the O’Reilly children with disappointment.

“It was a birthday present?” Jay defends.

“Happy Birthday, Anna,” The witch says. “Sorry you have to be grounded on it.”

4. The Flying Sled (c. July, 1981)

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Anna Louise asks Jacob, and he nods.

“One hundred percent positive.” Annie hums and looks down the slope. “I’ve been practicing. No one at school has suspected a thing.” Annie hums again.

“If you’re sure…” Annie says, sitting on the wooden sled and bracing herself. “Ready when you are, Jay.”

“Pip, this is going to be amazing.” He gets to the back of the sled and starts pushing. When he gets to the edge, practically sprinting, he jumps on and takes out his wand. As they barrel down the slope, he grabs his sister’s shoulder, and she looks back at him. He grins, and they reach the end of the slope, leading into the ramp. As they barrel off, Jay shouts, “Wingardium Leviosa!”

The sled shoots off the ramp, and the spell carries them. Annie lets out a whoop. “Jay, this is amazing!”

Jay laughs. “I know-” He starts, but his gloating is quickly cut off as the spell breaks, and the pair go hurtling down to the ground from nearly twelve meters in the air. The siblings scream, and hit the ground. Hard.

~

“Well… It could have been worse,” Jay says, and Annie glares at him as the healer casts Episky on her arm.

“How? How could it have been worse?” She asks, glaring daggers at him.

“We could have been farther from the house and Mum and Dad wouldn’t have heard us,” Jacob says, giving a shaky grin that is soon cut off by a loud ‘Ahem’.

“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” Their father says, staring at his kids with clear disappointment. “Honestly, Anna, I expected you to be smarter than this.” “It was Jay’s idea!” She shouts in her defense, and winces when the healer patches up the scratches on her cheeks.

“And when was the last time Jacob pitched an idea that didn’t go horribly wrong?” Their father says, and Jay shoots a glare at him.

“Joseph,” Their mother says, walking into the room and looking at her husband. “That’s enough. They’re already hurt, don’t humiliate them too.”

Annie looks down at her feet, shame all over her face, and Jay glares at their father, who stares back.

“Well, the cuts will heal, but there will be some nasty scars, unfortunately,” The healer says, and their parents thank him for his time. They walk out with him, discussing payment, and Jay scoffs.

“Honestly, can Dad get off his high horse for two damn seconds? Like he’s never done anything stupid,” He huffs.

“Can you go one summer without breaking me?” Annie retorts, and he looks back to see her pouting, taking the wind out of his sails a little.

“Sorry, Pip. I really did think I had it.” Annie shrugs, then looks up at him, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Practice more, and we’ll do it again next year, okay?” Jay grins at his little sister and winks.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

~

That next school year, Jacob went missing. Annie sat inside the whole summer, not looking forward to Hogwarts at all, and refusing to look at her scar. She wore long sleeves the whole summer just to avoid it.

Bonus (Because I don’t like leaving Annie on a sad note):

“You still owe me a levitating sleigh ride, you know,” Anna Louise says, smiling over at her brother as he lounges on his porch chair.

“Can’t a guy get a little peace and quiet? Merlin’s beard, I’m trying to tan here.”

“You’re going to burn,” Annie says, stealing his sunglasses off his eyes. Jacob squints at her.

“You said you didn’t want to do it until I practiced more,” He says after a while. “Being stuck in a painting stops you from doing that.”

“Well, I wasn’t stuck in a portrait for years,” She responds, small smile on her face.

“Good for you. I don’t recommend it,” Jay mutters.

“I had plenty of time to practice my spells, too,” She adds, and smiles at the warm summer breeze billowing her hair out around her.

“...Is the ramp still up?” Jay asks, and Annie turns to him, grinning.

“Like I’d have the heart to take it down.” ~

They attempt the sled ride again, Annie casting the spell this time, and she loves holding it over his head that she managed to do it and he didn’t.

Jay likes to retort with the fact that she still crashed them into a bush and that was the only reason they weren’t more injured.

Annie claims she was aiming for the bush.

#More Anna Louise content! #My girl is back on her bullsh*t #and im Here to provide yall with the details #the O'Reilly siblings have two brain cells and it's been in the custody #of their mum since 1979 #hphm #anna louise o’reilly

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 11

*SEQUEL TO THE LOOK IN HER EYES*

After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.

Chapter Eleven, All This Time

Ava

Another shot echoed through the air. "Shots fired! We have an officer down!"

I laid on my back, the late afternoon sky was turning to evening. My head pounded as I watched a cloud float languidly above me. "Winchester! Are you okay?" Lacey was over me. She popped open the buttons from my shirt to examine my wound, and she let out the breath she had been holding.

"You're wearing your vest."

I sat up slowly. "I think I have a serious bruise." I smiled wryly. "But yeah, I think I'm okay." I glanced at the perp. He was face down in the concrete. "We are going to have a lot of paperwork."

"Yup. It's gonna be a late one," she said helping me up.

Back at the station Lacey started on our paperwork, and I went to the bathroom. I unsnapped my bulletproof vest and looked at the massive black and purple bruise on my ribs.

I thought about how the boys and I could've used one in our time hunting. I winced touching the edge of the bruise. In my mind I could see Sam and Deans scars on their chests and arms. The cuts and bullet wounds that they took care of themselves.

Dean and I always talked about how Sam should date a doctor so they could finally stop having to stitch up each other. It didn't matter anymore. We weren't hunting. Sometimes I wondered if Sam missed it. If he missed it like I missed being a detective, and like how I honestly missed hunting.

I pulled my shirt back down and grabbed Lacey and I both coffees. "Sam is going to be pissed when he sees the bruise. He told me to be safe."

"You were safe."

"We have a child," I said with a huff, sitting down. "I'm not supposed to be in armed chases."

"So you and Sam... you're taking the plunge?" Lacey asked handing me my paperwork.

"The plunge is a little dramatic," I said clicking my pen. "But yeah. We are trying. It's only been a few weeks, but it's been nice."

I lied and told Lacey that Dean was a soldier. I told her that he died in Afghanistan. It was the only explanation I had for what we'd all been through, for why I couldn't talk about him. She asked if Sam served too, her brother had and she said that Sam had the look. Like he'd been through the shit.

"I think it's good that you two are trying. You should be happy."

"Thanks Lace." I signed my name at the end of the first form. "I really should call him. He's going to be worried."

"Hey, go ahead and go home. I'll finish up here and help you tomorrow. You've got a tall dark and handsome man to see." She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

"I wouldn't call him dark." I winked at her. "But, yeah, thanks. I'd like to go home and see him and Nel."

I grabbed my purse and jacket. I was going home to see my family. We were a family, and things were finally good. I was finally feeling happy again.

Dean

I gasped, feeling shallow air enter my lungs for the first time in what felt like a life time. I didn't realize that there wasn't air in Hell. What fueled the fire, then?

I couldn't see shit, so wherever I ended up was dark. I was laying on my back and when I reached out and around there were walls on all side of me. I reached into my pocket for my phone or anything to provide some light. My body felt stiff, and my were fingers sore. I pulled out my zippo lighter and flicked it a few times before it came to life.

I was in a wooden coffin. "Shit." I coughed. My mouth and throat was so dry I could barely speak. I closed my eyes. What the hell am I going to do?

I reached down and pulled my knife out of my boot, barely able to move that way. I jimmied the edge of the coffin and held my breath, and pushed the lid out of the way. The dirt loosened around the coffin, pouring in around me.

Keep it together Dean. You've been through worse.

We had practiced this, when I was a kid. Dad would shove me in the box and close the lid.

"You have to be prepared for anything, Son. Remember there will be a lot to work through. Don't breathe in the dirt or you'll suffocate."

I had nightmares for years about being buried alive. Guess I owed him a whiskey after all.

I dug upwards, knocking dirt away with my knife, my fingers gripping at the clots of dirt and rocks. The ground was cold, and my skin stung. The darkness felt endless, and I hoped whoever buried me was lazy about it and didn't stick me more than six feet under.

My chest pounded. I'd always been claustrophobic, but this was my literal nightmare. All I could see was Ava. If I was back I had to see her, but there was still a chance that I was still in Hell. That this was just a new form of torture.

I wanted to stop then, to let the darkness take me, but like always, she came to me.

Dean you can do this. Break through and come home to me. I've been waiting.

In my mind she is still pregnant, just like I left her. Even if I was still in Hell, I had to try. I owed her that much.

I pushed up further with all of my strength, thrusting the knife upward. A beam of light came into the hole I was in. My hand broke through the soil, and I could feel the sun on my skin.

My hands felt dried grass as I pulled myself up, sucking in fresh air. I gasped a few times, laying on my back. I stared at the sky just feeling everything. For the first time in so long I wasn’t feeling any pain.

I stood up slowly and looked around me to find any indicator of where I was. In the circle around my grave marker a dozen trees laid on their side, as if they bent right over, all in a perfect circle.

It was weird, but so was rising from the grave so I didn't feel the need to stick around. I moved slowly to the road, needing a phone. Needing a drink. Anything. Any sign that this was all real.

I pushed forward, my skin itching from being underground. I slid off my flannel and tied it around my waist. I wanted to spit, to get the dirt out of my mouth, but there was no moisture inside of me. How long have I been gone?

A pit grew in my stomach. If I'd been gone as long as I thought, Ava would be old. My daughter would be grown up. Dad and Bobby would be... I shook of the thought. If this was a mind game it was a damn good one.

I spotted a connivence store ahead of me, and I picked up the pace. It was old and run down, and there were no cars around it. I knocked a few times. "Hello?" I croaked. Even if there was someone there they wouldn't be able to hear me.

I rolled my eyes and wrapped my flannel around my arm as I sent my elbow through the glass on the front door. I let myself in and immediately went to the cooler. I pulled out a bottle of water and sucked it down.

I'd never felt anything better than the cold water running down my dry, cracked throat. It tasted almost sweet. If water tasted that good I couldn't even imagine having a beer again.

I had to pull back so I could breathe. My lungs opening. Fresh air. It was all surreal. I walked around the store, still suckling my bottle. There was a stand near the back wall with newspapers stacked. I picked one up to check the date. April 12th. My heart sunk. It wasn't as long as I thought, but if this was right... I'd been gone for four months. My daughter and my wife were out there somewhere. They had to be.

I made my way to the bathroom. I needed to splash my face. I needed some clarity. I turned on the water, taking it in my hands. It felt good on my raw skin. My muscles tight from being stagnant for four months.

I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. I was ripped apart the night that I was drug to hell, but yet when I lifted my shirt there were no scars. I looked under my left sleeve and then my right. My breath hitched in my throat. My right shoulder held a pink scar. Still fresh. It was barley healed. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was a handprint.

"Fuck, Sammy what did you do?"

I walked toward the front, to collect some supplies when the tv turned on next to me. It was all static. I clicked it off only for it to turn back on. The radio clicked on as well. I reached immediately, just like I was taught, and I grabbed salt off the shelf and poured it around the window. I glanced back at the tv. Something was happening. A high pitched ringing came to my ears. I covered one, but it just got louder. I dropped the salt, my hands covering my ears. My ear drums were going to explode.

The glass windows cracked and exploded in an instant, sending me to the floor, covered in glass. The noise stopped, and I looked around. No cold spots. What the fuck is going on?

I opened the cash register for some coins. I went outside to the pay phone, because my cell was dead in my pocket. I slipped a coin in and dialed Sams number from memory. "The number you have tried to reach has been disconnected.” Ava's was disconnected too.

Something was wrong. I tried Bobby next. Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hello?"

"Bobby?"

"Who is this?"

"It's me."

"Whose me?"

"It's Dean..." I began, my throat still hoarse.

Click.

I groaned and slid another coin in. I dialed his number again.

"Listen, I don't know who this is, but it isn't funny. You call here again, and I'll kill ya." Click.

I rubbed my face. I wasn't sure where I was. I couldn't place it, but there was an old car parked near the phone booth. I shook my head and pushed out of the phone booth to hot wire it.

I planned to head straight to Bobby's. I didn't know what happened while I was gone, but if Ava and Sams phones were off there'd be no guarantee that they'd be at the house, but Bobby was still at home. That was a start.

—————————-

I knocked on his door. I drank five bottles of water and ate some jerky on the drive up. I was feeling a lot better, but not as good as I felt when Bobby swung the door open.

He looked good, and I realized then how much I missed him. "Surprise!"

Bobby's mouth hung open. His eyes squinted. "I don't..."

"Yeah, me neither," I said stepping through the door. "But here I am."

He came at me with a knife. I dodged him and put a chair between us. "Bobby it's me!"

"The hell it is!" He came at me again.

"Wait wait! Your name is Robert Singer, you became a hunter when your wife was possessed by a demon, your niece is Ava Langston. I married her even though you told me no... Bobby it's me."

He pushed the chair out of the way and reached out slowly to touch me. His hand rested on my shoulder for a split second before he came at me again.

I pushed him out of the way, managing to take his knife from him. "I'm not a shape shifter!"

"Then you're a revenant!"

"If I was either could I do this with a silver knife?" I asked, groaning internally. I sliced my upper arm, feeling the familiar sting of blade against flesh.

"Dean?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"It's good to see you, Son. How did you bust out?"

"I don't know.. I just.."

My face was wet. Bobby had taken his flask of holy water and doused me with it. If I weren't so damn happy to be alive I'd be annoyed. I took my sleeve and wiped it off. "I'm not a demon either. Satisfied?"

"Better safe than sorry." He shrugged. "This doesn't make any sense... you were ripped to shreds. Even if you got out you shouldn't have had a body to come back to. What do you remember?"

"Nothing," I lied, my jaw tense. "Sammy and Ave’s phones are turned off... are they?"

Bobby sat up a little straighter. "They're okay. They're still living at the house, they just wanted out. The last few months have been tough. We had to bury you."

"Why did you bury me?"

"I wanted to salt and burn you, ya know the hunters funeral, but Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well," I said, touching my solid form. "I guess I'm glad he won that argument."

"He said you'd need your body when he brings you back home somehow."

"Well he brought me back alright, but whatever he did has bad mojo. Something blew past me at a gas station and then there's this." I pulled up my sleeve to show him the hand print.

"What the hell?"

"Looks like a demon pulled me out of Hell."

"But why?"

"To hold up its end of the bargain." I turned, sending my fist into the wall.

"You think he made a deal?" Bobby didn't look convinced.

"Yeah, I do. It's what I would've done."

Sam

"Who are you?" I asked, grabbing for the knife and the holy water in the side table near the door.

"I'm Dean." He looked confused.

I grabbed the knife and lunged at him, but he grabbed ahold of me. "This shit again?" He grumbled, taking my blade. "Look," he said, cutting his forearm. "Not a shifter, not a revenant. Give me the holy water."

I looked at him curiously, but I complied. He took a swig of the flask and let me go. "Dean?"

"I know... I look fantastic." He gave his classic wide grin, and I pulled him into a hug. He was solid. He was here.

He squeezed me back before releasing me. "So tell me," he began, stepping into the house. "What did it cost?"

"What did what cost?"

"Getting me out. Did you just sell your soul or is it something worse?"

I frowned. "Dean, I didn't sell my soul. I tried. I tried everything and no one would deal. I don't know how you got back, but it wasn't me. It's been tearing me up I knowing I couldn't save you."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No. I'm not. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Sammy. I believe you."

We looked between each other. We wanted to know, how did he get out?

He walked into the living room, picking up a framed photo of Ava. One that he'd taken. "Where... where is she, Sam?"

I swallowed hard. "She's at work."

His shoulders looked relaxed. "She's back to work? Where?"

"She just started working as a detective again. She should be home soon."

I wanted to warn her, but I didn't know what I'd say. I made love to her this morning, and now he's back.

"And..." He laid the picture down. "And what about Peanut?"

I smiled. "She's great. She's with Dad."

He crossed his arms and stepped toward me. "You let Dad take her?"

"He's actually really good with her," I said awkwardly.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hopefully better than he was with us."

"Much better," I agreed.

"Good... that's good." He slowly lowered himself onto the couch.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What was it like?"

He glanced up at me. "What was what like? Hell?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly, Sammy, I don't remember a damn thing."

I looked at him, and with the way that his forehead was wrinkled and his hands were clasped together. I knew he was lying.

—————

Chapter Twelve, Lanterns

Get caught up!

Tag List:

@xjamiedennettx

@deans-baby-momma

@sonnierae26

#the look in her eyes #fanfiction #dean winchester #fic #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #writing #mine #dean x ofc #dean winchester x ofc #sam winchester #sam x ofc #dad!Dean #dad!Sam #mutual pinning #otp #angst #love #smut #idiots to lovers

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Imagine Claire and Jamie telling Jenny and Ian about Faith after they come home from France and Jenny deciding to have a grave for her at Lallybroch.

Warning: This deals with Faith’s loss and the aftermath.  If this will upset you, please pass over this and wait for the next one.  It was hard to write; I do not want to unintentionally upset someone. xx. Mod Kate.

Claire had not knownhow she would go on in the aftermath of Paris.

But she did –– hertraitorous heart beating and pushing life through her veins, duplicitous lungsoxygenating her blood, twofaced brain guiding her limbs through the motions.

So many things inthe city that she once loved cleaved her open and spilled darkness into hervery bones.  

Faith.  She was there.  She was real. She was almost theirs.

A mother on astreet corner, pressing fingers along the curve of a baby-soft cheek – golden peachfuzz on milky skin catching the light.

L'Hôpital des Anges with its brooding, Gothicdoors. They kept secret the remnants of moments so distant that they almost didnot feel like memories, even though they would never leave her.

A faraway, unfocused look that swallowed Jamie wholemid-sentence as he tapped a spoon soft-boiled egg in the morning. He waslonging for a child that he had never even seen. She could tell because it wasthe same look she had.

A hand mirror shattering and mirthless laugh. Theworst had already happened. Seven years of bad luck be damned.  

The small things in the corner of their bedroomin Paris – an elaborate basinet with scalloped curtains on an ornate frame, adelicate Christening gown with a genderless bonnet trimmed with lace and translucentribbon.  

The feeling of invisibility as her breastsswelled, leaking into her dress and interrupting her grief, aching when shetried to ignore it.  

Even in thedarkest of rooms or the brightest of sunlight, a shadow followed her.  

The figure that hauntedher at night was nameless and cloaked.

When she slept,she did not dream unless she was turning on the figure, chasing shadows.  In not a nightmare but not a dream, Claire’sfingers fumbled for the cloak.  She justneeded to see what was under it.  And justwhen it was within reach she would wake to a sound, a feeling, a brightdisruption.

(A snort from Jamie, his hand on her breast.A skeletal branch scraping across the windowpane. Lightning saturating darknessuntil it touched every corner of their bedroom. Thunder rolling with such aboom that it made her teeth rattle.)

Claire’s heartwould skip and she would quietly will it to juststop beating altogether.

Faith.

When they leftParis, a city that neither of them wanted to remember existed, she thought thatthe figure would let her rest.

It didn’t.  

And one night, justwhen she thought that she had outwitted it – her fingers curling into slippery cloakand tugging – it turned to ash.

When they finallyarrived home, to Lallybroch, Jamietook the lead in telling Jenny and Ian. When Claire’s fingers became restless on the table – tapping,scratching, picking, shining – Jamie stilled her hand with his, eyes neverleaving his sister and brother-in-law.

“Beautiful,” she heard him say. His voicecaught like it was tripping. The amount of trust he had to have in herdescription, to have never seen their daughter and to call her beautiful, movedher.  “Our Faith.”

He blamed himselfstill and Claire focused her eyes on everything but his face. The lift andtwist of the curtain in the breeze coming through an open window.  The slope of the soft underside of his chininto the hard column of muscle along his throat. The hollow at the base of thatsame throat, an indentation where her lips had rested in sleep, for comfort athousand times.

“I had promised–”

his voice stumbledover words ––

“I broke it–– shewas so––”

a struggle foradjectives ––

“little––”

she remembered the fluttering kicks in herbelly that had said I am here butnot quite I am ready––

“but then she… oh…”

His voice fadedaway. At that, Claire’s face had folded in on itself and she brought herforehead to the table, slipping her hand free of Jamie’s.  Eyes closed, she was facing down the shadowin the daytime while awake now. Its back was to her and its cloak was slippingover bone.  

“She’s gone. She’s dead.  Our daughter is dead.” Her words became the figure.

The hand that wentto the back of her neck was delicate, cool, feminine.

Jenny.

Claire couldhardly remember her sister-in-long giving her any sort of prolonged physicalcontact (just a brief hug, a comfortingbrush of a hand), but this was the first real touch was a comfort.

“I feel empty,” Claire managed, her stomach pittedout and aching.  She touched her bodice,it covered tender breasts.  “And I…”

Jenny nodded ather brother and pulled a chair close to Claire, sitting, her fingers runningdown her back. “The milk?

Claire turned herhead to rest on her arm and look at Jenny, unembarrassed but disgusted ather body’s refusal to just move on. “Yes.”

“Sage tea. Warmcompresses. Cabbage. The last of the summer are still around.  It will help.”

Claire simplyswallowed, jaw shaking from the effort of holding back tears.

“I dinna kenanything to make ye feel normalagain, Claire, but I promise that ye will. Someday you’ll get there. It’ll no’ feel good. It’ll be just as painful, but different… manageable somehow.”

Claire did notask how, but she could tell thatJenny knew. They were not empty wordsselected from a bin of platitudes.  Jennyfelt them.  Iit was an independent heartache, knowingthat it was an empathy drawn from somesort of personal experience.

Jenny’s voice wassmooth, low.  It was still her, but itwas a tone Claire had never heard before.

“A piuthar-chèile.  Apiuthar.”

Sister-in-law.  Sister.

Claire just let the words sink in, eventually sitting up and looking at Jamie.  His eyes were fixed on the tapestry above themantle, boring a hole through the wall. His fingers were pulling absently at a loose thread at his shirtsleeve.

“Jenny, she was so gorgeous – she looked like him… LikeJamie.  The hair, the eyes, the ears.”  

Claire cast a look to Jamie. His eyes fell from the tapestryto the thread that he had not pulled but was winding around and around andaround his ring finger – turning it purple.

Claire had said it a thousand times: she no longer blamed him,that it would have happened with or without his fight with Randall. Butsomething in Jamie was clinging to the responsibility.  It was as if he could not make sense of theirloss without imputing some blame tohimself.

Claire knew that her husband thought it was an otherworldly,perhaps divine, retribution for a promise made to his wife and broken.

Jenny’s eyes did not leave her sister-in-law.

“When we left Paris, I thought I could be away from her andpretend it never happened.  I could notstay, but I know I will never return to her.”

“Paris is a long way away,” Jenny said after a beat, herfingers tracing a light route along Claire’s spine. Down.  Up. Down.  Up.  “What if we… do something special here,Claire? To remember her?”

Claire heard Jamie swallow and felt his hand on her thighunder the table. Claire knew it meant“yes.” Her heart said “yes,” and her mouth followed shortlythereafter.

What Jenny came up with was beautiful.  

A headstone ––

FaithFraser

a beloved daughter

held for amoment,

loved foreternity

1744

Somehow, Jennyhad managed to rehome a flowering bush from the side of the house to sit justabove the grave marker. They were at the top of a small hill –– endless sky stretching out in all directions as far as their eyes could see.  

And Jenny had done it all in only a few days’ time.  

Claire could hardly hold her weight up and slipped to the ground on crossed legs.  Jamie followed suit.  And there, under theheady fragrance of white lilac, they sat with their hands tangledtogether.  

“Janet,” Jamieground out, wiping tears away from his cheeks with the back of his hand, “ye’vereally done somethin’ beautiful for our family.”

Jenny hitched upthe voluminous folds of her skirts and crouched behind her brother, slippingher arms around his shoulders. “Ye need somewhere to visit her, to have a quietmoment.”

Claire leanedinto Jamie’s shoulder, raising their joined hands and kissed them beforeholding them over her heart.  In theirhasty retreat from Paris they had only had a moment at Faith’s resting placeoutside of the hospital.  This felt like a balm.

Without a word, Jamie took the blade he kept at his ankle –– something he kept ready even here in the comforts of the place they called home. Out of the embraces of his sister and wife, he stood easily with the sgian dubh in his hand.  He cut a short branch, heavy with white flowers, and laid it along the edge of the headstone, his fingers glancing over the words. He settled back next to his wife, his arm hooking through her elbow before he took her hand.

“This is good,” he said simply.  “Fitting.”

That night,Claire dreamt of lilacs and a girl in a dress with bouncy red curls.  The figure did not return.

#;mod Kate

[thehuntersretreat]

Always

Title: Always

Verse: Further Interruptions

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist

Pairing: Roy/Ed

Summary: When life made him want to give in, give up, and just curl up and die, he remembered the man waiting for him.  The man who had given him a home and a family.

Author’s Note: Follows a month and a half after Grief.  Because @kzellr keeps giving me prompts :P  There will be many more after this. :P

Ed shuddered as he stumbled through the streets of North City.  It was too damn cold to be out that late at night but it wasn’t like he had a choice.  Fucking mutinous assholes.  

He nearly sobbed as he tripped over an uneven cobblestone and fell against the wall of the building beside him.  The wiring of his automail jarred and he bit his lip hard enough to bleed.  

Just a little further. A few more steps, right?  His arm might be busted up and he might be on his last leg, but he still had the ability to keep moving forward.  

All his life, that’s who he had been.  No matter what came for him, no matter what got in his way, Ed moved forward.  He pushed on.  He struggled when other people would give up.  He sacrificed and he kept going.

Now, when he had everything to live for, he could do no less.  He had to get home.  Alphonse would be worried about him.  His brother might not need him the way he used to, but they were still so much a part of each other’s lives.  Havoc joked that Alphonse was Mustang’s other husband because he was at their home so often.

Al would be worried. The team would be worried.

Ed had to get home.  

His kids needed him. Maes was brilliant and caring and too damn sensitive under all that bluster and he needed Ed to keep him in line because his bastard of a Dad would just bust out laughing every time Maes said something inappropriate and he’d become as foul mouthed as… well.. himself if he wasn’t there to stop it.

Tishy, his little Trisha, had her Dad so wrapped up in her fingers that the man couldn’t tell her no unless Ed was there to threaten to withhold sex.  She was their quiet genius, but also the mastermind in all their escapades, even if Ed couldn’t prove it.  

They needed him because Roy was a fucking mess without him.

Roy.

He needed to get home to his husband.  For all the years they’d fought, all the hard times, the sacrifices and the loss, for every bad memory they had shared, Roy had made sure to give him so many more night filled with laughter and warmth.  He was all the romantic gestures Ed hated to admit he loved.  When it was just them, he was goofy and funny and open and warm.  He was the one consistent in Ed’s life when everything else had turned murky.  

When Ed thought about insurmountable odds, he thought of a young Major, determined to take on the whole of Amestris to become its leader because he loved it so much.  When the nights were too dark, he remembered the despair in Mustang’s voice in the pit when the Truth had stolen his sight, who then rose from the ground and continued to fight a god he couldn’t even see.

When life made him want to give in, give up, and just curl up and die, he remembered the man waiting for him.  The man who had given him a home and a family.

So Ed grit his teeth and pushed off the wall and stepped forward again.  He was almost there.  He’d gotten free of his captors.  He just had to get to North Command and he’d be fine.

He stumbled again and fell to his knees.  He sobbed as pain wrecked his body but he tried to push himself back to his feet.

“Do you need help?”

A hand was on his arm before he heard the voice and Ed lashed out, wild and uncoordinated though it was.  He stumbled to push his back against the wall and he heard the harsh intake of breath from his attacker.

“Ed?”

Ed blinked through the pain and took a deep breath.  A moment later his vision cleared enough to see who was in front of him.

“Major Miles?”

“Ed, what happened?”

“I don’t think they were able to follow me,” he warned.

Miles was a Briggs man. He’d keep an eye on their surroundings in a way that Ed couldn’t right now.  Ed pushed off the wall again.  

“Where are you going?”

“North Command.  We’ll be safe there.  I need … I have to get back.”

“Ed?”

“I have to get back to Roy.”

Miles took his arm and helped Ed take a few more steps before Ed’s knees buckled completely.

“Damn it!  I have to get back!”

“Ed, calm down. Ed.  I’ll get you there.  Don’t worry. It’s going to be alright.”

Ed didn’t hear the rest.   Blood loss and exhaustion took their toll and he passed out in the middle of the sidewalk.

 **

 “Where is he?  Where the fuck is he?”

“Fuhrer Mustang, please”

Ed opened his eyes and turned his head towards the voice.  He was about to smile but everything hurt and the pain was too much.

“Ed!”  He was closer but not close enough.

Ed would have reached for him, except the blackness came again.

 **

 The next time he woke it was dark outside.  The curtains had been pulled back and the lights in the room were dim.  He still hurt, all over honestly, but it wasn’t take his breath – steal his consciousness kind of pain anymore.  That worried him because he’d either been out longer than he should be, or they were drugging him heavily.

He went to wipe at his eyes but someone was holding his hand.

He smiled before he even looked because there was only one bastard who’d be there right now.  

Ed pulled his hand free from Roy’s and reached over to touch his sleeping face.  There were dark circles under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved in a day or two from the amount of stubble Ed could see on his face.  When he ran the knuckles of his left hand over Roy’s cheek, his husband woke instantly.

“Gold?”

“Hey, Bastard,” his voice was scratchy and this throat hurt like hell.  He was alive though.  He’d made it back and that was all that mattered.

“Ed,” Roy sat on the edge of the bed and he lowered his head to rest his forehead against Ed’s temple. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“I’m not that easy to get rid of,” he teased.

“You were gone for two months.  There were no leads.  No one could find you.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.  Roy, I got away as quick as I could.”

“The doctors were worried about you for a while.  Alphonse came with me.  He did some healing but he was afraid to do too much.  They had to remove your arm.  When you’re better, we’ll take you to Winry to get it replaced.”

“That bad, huh?”

“The doctors couldn’t do anything for you.  If Alphonse hadn’t insisted on driving me from Central himself, I don’t know if he would have made it in time.”

“Good thing he did. Knowing the way you drive, you wouldn’t have made it at all.”

“Ed, this is not the time to joke.”

“I’m alive, Bastard. It’s always time to joke.”

Roy let out a sob that was trying really hard to be a laugh.  For him.  Because that was just who his husband was.

“Major Miles is taking on the investigation here in the North since he found you and witnessed an attack against you.”

“What?”

“You don’t remember?”

Ed shook his head. Miles had found him, he remembered that.

“While he was trying to bring you to the hospital you were attacked.  Luckily Miles had been late for his rendezvous with General Armstrong and she went to find him.  The two of them defeated their attackers, but none of them were left alive to question. They got you here.”

“Damn.  I hate owing that woman.”

“You love Armstrong.”

“I do, but I hate owing her anything.  She comes up with the craziest shit to make me pay her back.”

“I’ll pay her back. I’ll give her all of Amestris if she wants it.”

“Sap,” Ed said, but he pulled Roy’s face down and tilted his head up just right.  He pressed his lips to his husbands and ignore the feel of tears that traced down his cheeks.  Roy kissed him hard, his hand going into Ed’s hair to holding him close and Ed did his best to swallow the sobs that kept rising from his husband’s throat.  

 **

 There was a loud commotion outside the door and Ed blinked tired eyes at the sun coming in the window.

“Too much, Brother?”

Ed looked up as Al moved into his line of sight and smiled.

“It’s a little bright.”

Alphonse closed the curtains and Ed let out a deep breath.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good, I guess.  How pissed is Winry about my arm?”

“Pissed?  Brother, she’s grateful that something she crafted kept you alive.  She’s only pissed about the fact you needed it for something like that.  Roy told us what he could about the people who had you. You really can’t stay out of trouble, can you?”

“I was trying.”

“MAES!  No!”

Ed’s head jerked over towards the door and he looked back at Alphonse.

“He’s not going to let them in until I give him the okay,” Alphonse said.  “So, tell me how you’re really feeling.  On a scale of - need to sleep and eat it off for three days - to - or turn myself into a stone to heal myself - where are you?”

“Needs to see his husband and children immediately before he can begin worrying about himself.”

Alphonse smiled. “Okay, but when you start to get tired I’m kicking everyone but the Fuhrer out.”

“Hey!  What if I want to kick him out?”

“You can talk to Hawkeye. When I suggested he leave the hospital I thought she was going to shoot me.  He’s taken it bad, Ed.  He needs to be here almost as much as you do.”

Ed sighed.  “Yeah, so let me see him.”

Alphonse left the room and shut the door behind him quickly.  He couldn’t hear what was said but Ed took the time to prop himself up. It hurt like hell but he figured he could hide it better from the kids if he was upright.  Seeing him in the bed all prone and helpless wouldn’t help them.

Roy came in first and Trisha was in his arms.  It wasn’t a good sign that he was carrying her.  Normally she’d be at her brother’s side, unless she did something wrong and was trying to pout her way out of it with her dad.

Behind him, Alphonse came in with Maes.  Winry and Granny were behind them.

Roy came over and pressed a kiss to his forehead and Ed made a grab for their daughter.  Roy pulled back with a smirk.

“Keep your grabby hands to yourself.  This is my girl.”

The girl giggled in his arms and Roy handed her down to him.  She sat at the edge of the bed and stared at him.

“What’s the matter, Tishy?” he asked.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered.

Ed shook his head. “Come here, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled her in with his good arm.  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and looked around for his son.  He’d moved and was hiding behind Roy’s leg. He looked at his husband with concern.

“Maes, come here,” Roy said as he picked his son up.  He went around to the other side of the bed and sat down beside Ed.

“I’ll be his other arm until Aunt Winry can get him a better one, alright?” he said to Maes.  

That seemed to be the problem and Maes threw himself at Ed just like Tishy had.  Roy pulled his feet up and leaned onto his side on the bed so he was facing Ed.  

“He wanted a hug.  I think he was waiting because you only have one arm right now.”

“What?”

“They’ve never seen you without your limbs, Ed.”

Ed closed his eyes because he hadn’t even thought about that.  No wonder his kids were freaked out.  They knew about Ed’s automail but they’d never seen him without a working body. “Good thing Winry keeps a spare for me,” Ed said, trying to keep his voice light.

He didn’t know what showed on his face, but Roy grimaced before he leaned in a pressed a kiss to his husband’s lips.

“Well, of course, you never let me tell them about the time you lost your arm when a fish mistook it for a fishing pole,” Roy said.

Ed looked at the man like he was crazy, but the Fuhrer was ignoring him as Maes shifted slightly to look back at him.

“It was a mess. Honestly.  But I told him not to decorate his arm with all that string, even if it was his birthday.  I don’t blame the fish for thinking he was a fancy fishing lure.”

“What happened?” Maes asked.

“Well, it jumped in the boat and bit him of course!”

Alphonse had come over to the foot of the bed and nodded.  “Bit his arm clear off,” his brother added.  “And it was a monster too.  I’ve never seen a fish this big.  It was bigger than a dog!”

“Bigger than your Father when I met him.”

“Hey!  Who you calling a-“

“But it bit his arm clear off and he refused to let me row us back in until he caught the thing.”

“They were on the boat all night!”

“No way,” Tishy said with a tiny smile on her face.

“What about the time he lost his leg to a bear!” Alphonse said.

Ed shook his head but when his brother and husband began to regale his children about all the total erroneous ways he’d lost his limbs, he couldn’t help but wonder at his luck. Tishy didn’t believe a word of it but she was caught up in the story telling the same as Maes.  Her brother looked back and forth though and Ed caught the question behind his eyes.  A question that Ed wasn’t ready to tackle anytime soon.

They didn’t know how he’d lost his limbs.  And they were getting advanced enough in their alchemy that he would have to tell them soon.  But not yet.

He looked over at Winry and Pinako who were both watching the kids and then he closed his eyes and listened to his husband and brother for a moment.

And realized what they were saying.

“Hey!  I did not get my arm stolen by a circus clown!”

And really, his brother was no help as he leaned forward.  “I’m sorry Fuhrer, but he’s right.  It was the animal tamer.”

 **

 An hour later his visitors were all forced out the door and Ed was able to relax again.  He’d kissed his kids a hundred times and Alphonse assured him they were fine.  General Armstrong had a home in North City that she was allowing them to stay in until they were ready to return home.  He’d be horrified if Alphonse didn’t tell him that she only offered to keep her brother from coming to show her how to offer proper accommodations to the Fuhrer’s family.

As much as Ed wanted to stay with the kids or keep them close, he knew he had to take care of himself now or they’d never let him out early.  He needed to get to Resembool and get his leg fixed and his arm replaced.  

The door opened to reveal his husband and Ed let out a soft sigh.

“They get on the road okay?”

“Yeah.  Maes wasn’t happy to leave but Tishy talked him around.”

“She’s pretty good at that. Sorta like her Dad.”

Roy let out a small laugh as he moved to the bed and crawl up beside Ed.  Ed turned into him and after a few minutes of shuffling, found himself with his head on Roy’s chest.

“You don’t have to stay. The kids need you.”

“The kids need to know that you’re safe.  They have Al and Winry and Pinako.  They’ll be fine.  Seeing you tonight was good for them.”

“I was worried about them.”

“I know you were.”  

It was silent for a few minutes as Ed thought back through the day and all his visitors.

“You’re a good father, Ed.”

“Tishy was scared of me tonight.”

“Not scared of you. Scared for you.  There is a world of difference in the two, My Love. Neither of the children are used to seeing you laid up.  It’s hard enough for me to see you sitting in a hospital bed.”

“You think you’d be used to it after all these years.”

Roy scoffed.  “Ed, I can’t remember a time when they didn’t have to tie you to a bed to make you stay.  The fact that you’re taking it so well this time terrifies me.”

“Paranoid.”

“Looking out for you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Ed.”

“Don’t-”

“No.  Listen Ed.  I know you don’t like to hear this sort of thing, but I could barely function while you were missing.  A few days and I was worried, but it wouldn’t be the first time you missed a deadline reporting in because of some research, even if it hasn’t happen since we had the kids. A week and I was scared.  Two weeks and I couldn’t think about anything else. I’d called everyone I knew, called in every favor I had that would help me search for you.  And there was nothing.  

After a month, Alphonse came to live with me because I was falling apart.  He helped keep me together, but when the kids were asleep I was a mess.”

“Roy,”

“Don’t you dare do this to me again, Gold,” Roy whispered harshly.  

Ed looked up at him and he could see the tears in his husband’s eyes.  He could see the fear that still lingered there.  It echoed in him in so many ways.  Too many times over the course of their lives had they played with death.  Too many times they’d come close to losing one another.  Ed had been on the other side of this before.  When they’d been more than friends but not dating yet. Just… benefits.  Sex and alchemy and being able to talk to someone who understood what they’d each been through.  

He’d lost Roy for three months.  He still had scars he refused to talk about.  Ed knew why now.  Some of the marks Roy bore matched Ed’s now and he would never speak of the things they’d done to him.  When they were home, alone, Roy would see them and he would know and Ed would never have to say the words.

“I won’t,” he croaked out the words Mustang had given him so long ago and he could see the memory in his lover’s face.

Lies.  

Well-intentioned lies.

It was enough to mean them though.  Tonight, it was enough to say them and to know that no matter what happened, no matter what came at them, they were there for each other.  

“If something ever happened,” Ed felt Roy’s hands clench against his skin but he didn’t interrupt him. “You take Havoc up on his second wife theory.  You move Al in and you let him take care of the kids because it will help him too. And you deal with your shit.  And then you straighten your back, get back to the job, and you take care of our kids.  You got that?”

Roy nodded and Ed knew he meant it.  And Ed meant it too.  He’d do the same because their kids deserved the goddamned world, but neither of them would survive the other long with them to care for.  

“Ed,” Roy cupped his cheek softly and Ed wanted to tease him for the gesture but everything was just too raw right now.  “I love you.”

He pressed his lips up into his husband’s and was met with a small sob.  Roy pulled himself together though because the tears never fell and it was the last he felt from him.  When Ed looked back up, Roy was smiling slightly.

“Love you too, Bastard. Just remember, I’m always going to come back to you.  I promised years ago.”

He grabbed Roy’s hand and found his wedding ring and pulled it off his finger.  Engraved in the band was a simple promise.   Always coming home to you, Bastard.

There was a return promise on Ed’s even if he couldn’t pull it off without his other arm.  It simply said, Always yours, Gold.  

“Let’s get some sleep, Ed,” Roy said softly as he put his ring back on and settled with Ed against him. “The kids will be back when visiting hours start, or whenever they can convince Alphonse to sneak them in.”

“You think he will?”

“I think your brother isn’t above letting his niece and nephew manipulate him to get what he wants in the first place.”

Ed laughed at that and for the first time since he’d fought his way out of that hell hole, he finally felt like he just might be alright.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #royed #Verse: Further Interruptions #edward elric #Roy Mustang

[atc74]

Fast Cars and Freedom - Part 4

As the story of Dean and our reader evolves, I felt the aesthetic needed to grow as well. Catch up here.

Word Count: 3955

Warnings: Hospitalization, major illness, pregnancy, labor (not graphic) and so many damn feels. This is super flangsty. 

A/N: This was originally inspired by the song Fast Cars and Freedom by Rascal Flatts (duh) but has now taken on a life of it’s own, as so often happens. I am not sure how many more parts I will do, but I know it isn’t over just yet. If you have ideas for future parts that you think may inspire - send me an ask!

A/O/N: Previous chapters have all been from Dean’s POV, but to make this one work, it will be from our reader’s POV. Italics indicate flashbacks. Many, many thanks to my bestie @just-another-busy-fangirl for once again being the best beta ever. Thanks to @iwantthedean and @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms​ for their help with the medical stuff. It pays to know people, people! Love you girls!

“Do you remember the last time we were in this very hospital together?” Dean asked me, as I sat next to him in the waiting room. It was nearing midnight and our six and eight year old sons were asleep in the double chair in the corner of the room: Will on one end, RJ on the other.

We had gotten a call from Ellen, my step-mother, about two hours ago that my dad was being rushed to Sioux Falls General. We packed up the boys and drove to the hospital. I was tired, already eight months along in this third pregnancy, and rested my head against my husband’s shoulder as he held me close. He always has been my rock, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

“Yeah, I do remember, Dean. That was an awful night,” I recalled. “I still remember exactly what I was doing when you called me.”

“Y/N?!” Dean’s voice crackled through the old dorm phone, but I could hear the panic in it and my heart started to race.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” I shot up straight in my bed, knocking my books to the floor.

“Y/N, it-it’s Bobby. He had a heart attack. We’re at the hospital. I need you, Kid,” Dean’s voice broke as he tried to hold back his tears.

“Dean, take care of my dad. I will be there in three hours. I love you,” I told him, trying to keep myself and Dean calm, though I was breaking down on the inside. I had already lost my mom, but Dean had lost both his parents.

“I love you, Y/N. Please drive safe,” Dean insisted.

“I will, I promise.” I placed the phone back on the receiver and began to throw things in my bag. I didn’t need much as I still had clothes at home, but I needed my books. I put on boots, grabbed my cell phone and charger, a coat and my keys and I was out the door in under five minutes, running to my car.

Dean took good care of my car and I knew I could push her limits, but that didn’t stop her from protesting a little when I pressed harder on the gas pedal as soon as I hit the entrance ramp for I-29 South. I made what should have been a three and a half hour drive in a little over two and half. I pulled into the hospital lot and ran through the front doors screaming my father’s name at the poor woman at the front desk.

“Miss, please keep your voice down,” she scolded me as she looked at me over the rim of her glasses.

“My father had a heart attack and you want me to keep my voice down? Fine,” I challenged her, my voice at a lower decibel. “My name is Y/N Singer. My father is Robert Singer and you better tell me where he is right now or I swear to God I will smack those ugly ass glasses off your fat face!”

“Room 452,” she spat. I could still hear her as I headed for the elevator, mumbling under her breath about the disrespect of today’s youth.

I was out of the elevator before the doors opened completely, taking off at a run checking room numbers as I went. I wasn’t paying attention and I ran smack dab into someone in my hurried search. “Son of a bitch!”

“Y/N?!” the voice sounded familiar as I looked up.

“Sammy!” I wrapped my arms around him as hard as I could, not wanting to let him go. “Where is my dad, Sam?”

“Right here, Y/N/N,” his voice was soft and deep, calming me slightly as I entered the room. My dad was laying so still, a nasal cannula providing oxygen and wires sticking out from under the hospital gown. He looked so pale and small, smaller than I have ever seen him look before.

I stood frozen in place just inside the door just watching him breathe. I didn’t even register that Sam had entered the room with me, or that anyone else was there. All I could focus on was my dad.

“Kid, I am so glad you’re here,” Dean’s voice shattered the quiet of the room and the noise in my head and I threw myself at him, snaking my arms around his neck and burying my face in his flannel. It smelled of exhaust and oil, but the smell was so Dean I was comforted, not caring that it was dirty. I was home.

I felt his arms envelop me and I allowed myself to cry for the first time since he had called me. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to provide any words of comfort; he just held me like he knew I needed. I took what I needed from him for several minutes, before letting go and walking over to the bed, taking my dad’s hand in my own; they were always so much bigger than mine.

“Dean, what happened?” I asked, not taking my eyes off my father’s face.

“He was in the pit this morning, we had a few oil changes. Everything was fine, he came up more than usual today though. I asked him if something was wrong. He told me I worry too much and brushed me off. I found a bottle of aspirin in his office though. We had just finished up on the Sheriff’s cruiser when I heard him drop his wrench. I quickly ran down and he was on the floor. I threw him over my shoulder, hauled him up the stairs. Sheriff Mills was still there so she called it in and the ambulance was there real quick and they loaded him up. I grabbed Sammy and the Sheriff drove us here,” Dean recounted the events and I listened carefully.

“The doctor said he suffered what she called an NSTEMI heart attack, something about a blocked artery,” Dean paused as the door opened and a doctor peeked her head in.

“Ms. Singer?” the doctor looked at me. She was petite woman with dark brown hair and a kind face.

“Yes, I am Y/N Singer, his daughter,” I confirmed.

“I am Dr. Sullivan, may I speak with you in private a moment?” she looked between Sam and Dean before making eye contact with me once more.

“Dr. Sullivan, my father is Sam Winchester’s legal guardian, same with his brother, Dean, when he was a minor. They’re family; whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of them,” I answered calmly, more calm than I felt.

“Ms. Singer, based on his blood work and the electrocardiogram, your father suffered, an NSTEMI heart attack, or non-ST segment elevation myocardial infarction. I have already given him some nitroglycerin, which will relieve some of the chest pain and improve blood flow. I will also be prescribing a blood thinner and a beta-blocker,” she informed us.  

“When can he go home?” Dean probed the doctor. He wanted out of this place as fast as possible.

“I would like to keep him a couple days for observation. What type of work does he do?” Dr. Sullivan inquired.

“He is a mechanic; owns his own shop. Dean works with him,” I replied, already flying on autopilot.

“Ms. Singer, Mr. Winchester, I am also putting him on light duty restrictions, which means for the next month, paperwork only. He can still drive, but nothing more strenuous than replacing a wiper blade or headlight. He also needs to follow up with his cardiologist in a week. Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Sullivan asked.

I looked to Dean for confirmation and he shook his head. “Not at this time, Dr. Sullivan. Thank you for taking care of my dad.” I smiled, looking her in the eye. She returned it and walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

“I am going to get some coffee. You guys want anything?” Sam asked us.

“Yeah, coffee would be great, Sammy,” Dean replied.

“Yes, please. And thank you, Sam,” I smiled at the not so little boy who had become my family.

“Since when did he get so tall? I was just home two weeks ago!” I exclaimed when he left the room.

“Since when does driving safe mean ninety the whole way?” Dean ignored my question, raising his eyebrows.

“Since you take good care of my girl and I know she can handle it,” I replied nonchalantly.

“I will always take good care of both of you, you know that, Kid,” Dean pulled up a chair next to me, pulling my free hand into his lap and holding tightly.

“When school is over, I am transferring, Dean. I can’t be that far away if something happens. I need to be here for him,” I sniffed, swiping at my eyes in frustration.

“You don’t have to do that, Y/N. I can take care of the old man and Sammy,” Dean assured me.

“Babe, I know you can and it isn’t that I don’t trust you to do it. But what if something worse happens and I am not here? I’m too far away. Besides, finals are next week and then I am home for the summer anyway. I need to be home with my boys,” I admitted. “I need to make sure you are all eating healthy and not gorging on junk food all day! ”

“Hey! Sam makes us eat vegetables!” Dean joked, cracking a smile for the first time since I arrived at the hospital and it made my heart melt.

“Thank you for being there for him, Dean. And for me,” I rested my head on his shoulder and he held me tight. Moments later, a knock at the door brought us back to the real world.

“Hi there. I am Ellen, and I will be looking in on your dad for the next couple of nights while he is here. I just need to check his vitals and I will be out of your hair,” she was an older woman, about Dad’s age if I had to guess. She was pretty with light brown hair and eyes that lit up when she smiled at us.

“Will ya idjits just go home so I can get some rest already? Ya done nothing but blabber since ya got here. Quit yer fussing and git,” Dad opened his eyes and glared at us.

“Now Mr. Singer, is that any way to talk to your children?” Ellen teased.

“Well hi there. You can call me Bobby,” Dad smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Alright, Bobby. How are you feeling?” Ellen asked as she checked all the monitors.

“Like I could use a nap and these brats won’t stop running their mouths,” he scoffed.

“Well, how about I kick them out since visiting hours are over anyway?” Ellen gave him a smile.

“Yeah, then you and I can have some alone time, get to know each other?” Dad winked at her.

“Dad! You could have died today and you’re flirting with your nurse?” I blurted out.

“You only live once, Pumpkin. I ain’t wasting any more time,” he declared.

“Robert, let’s get you better, first. One step at a time, okay Cowboy?” Ellen laughed and we joined her, not noticing the perplexed look on Sam’s face when he returned with the coffees.

“What’d’I miss?” Sam asked.

“Bobby flirting with his nurse and she is giving it right back,” Dean answered.

~*~

The next few months were hard on all of us. Dad stayed in the hospital two days, and I stayed home two more after that. I had been communicating with my professors so I didn’t miss anything and aced my finals the week after that. Dean had driven up with Dad’s old pickup and together we packed up my dorm room.

“Come on. Let’s get you home,” Dean opened my car door for me.

“No place I would rather be,” I kissed him passionately before climbing in and starting her up.

Sam was working at the county library full time that summer and Dean hired someone part-time at the shop at Dad’s insistence.

“Boy, I ain’t gonna be around forever! It is about time you start learning the ropes around here,” Dad told him one night at dinner about a month after his heart attack.

“Bobby, you aren’t ready to retire yet,” Dean protested.

“No, I ain’t. But I kinda like this light duty thing. So you’ll run the shop, I continue to do the books and help out from time to time. But you gotta hire someone that can help out and operate the flatbed. I am too old to go out and tow wrecks and junkers in the middle of winter,” Dad added.

So Dean hired a man named Nate Williams. He was a local, married with two small boys and was looking for something less stressful than the dealership he had been working at and he would be getting more hours at Singer’s.

~*~

“It’s official. I will be a South Dakota State Jackrabbit come September!” I laid my admissions papers and transfer documents on the kitchen table.

“Pumpkin, that is still an hour away,” Dad grumbled as he picked up the papers, shuffling through them.

“I know, Dad. But the good news is I have been taking extra credits each semester anyway, so I only have three more to go. It is worth it if I get to be home with you,” I was sweet talking him and he knew it, but let me get away with it.

“Well, you are on dinner duty. Sam is at the library and Dean is in the shop,” Dad said as he stood and walked to the stairs. “I got me a date!”

“With the pretty nurse?” I presumed.

“With the hot nurse!” Dad corrected, laughing as he continued upstairs. “Don’t wait up!”

~*~

I heard footsteps and I lifted my head from it’s perch on Dean’s shoulder, opening my eyes. My vision was blurry, but I could clearly hear Ellen’s voice as she whispered my name. I rose from the chair so quickly I startled Dean.

“Ellen!” I called out to my step-mom of thirteen years as she greeted me, hugging me tightly, despite the bump between us. She lovingly rubbed the swell of my belly.

“How is my granddaughter doing?” she smiled, her eyes lighting up, despite how tired she must be.

“Already giving us a run for our money,” I replied truthfully, rubbing my back. “How is Dad?”

“He is resting. They have already done the bloodwork and everything. They want him to rest first, but have already given him everything they did last time, but this one was different, Honey,” Ellen blinked back her tears.

“Worse?” I feared.

“Yeah, Baby. It’s what they call “the widowmaker” but somehow, through some grace of God, he made it. He will have to have a bypass this time,” Ellen elaborated.

“Ahhh oooohhh nooo,” I doubled over, clutching my stomach.

“Y/N!” I heard Dean and Ellen call for me at the same time.

“Oh shit, Dean, her water broke. Get a wheelchair!” Ellen commanded, staying calm, all her years of nursing paying off twice in one night.

“Dean, it’s too early,” I cried. “The boys!”

“There’s an extra bed in Dad’s room, I will bring them with me. You two go!” Ellen waved us off as another nurse escorted us to the maternity ward.

I was scared and nervous. I had both my boys at the specialty birthing hospital and my doctor wasn’t here. What if something went wrong? It was too early.

“Kid, I know what you are thinking and it’s going to be just fine. It’s not all that early, just three weeks, and Will was two weeks early. She is going to be just fine; perfect like her Mama,” Dean murmured words of encouragement the entire trip up to the eighth floor.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester. Little one can’t wait, huh?” the doctor greeted us, a warm smile on his face. “I am Dr. Fisher. Let’s get you into a room so we can see what is going on in there, okay?”

“Dean…” I cautioned my husband and he just followed the nurse into the private room.

“Okay, Mom and Dad. Here is your gown. Just go ahead and get changed and I will be back with the doctor in a few. I am Ana by the way,” she called out as she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

“Who are these people? Why are they so chipper? It is two in the morning!” I practically screamed at Dean.

“Baby, I need you to calm down just a little, okay? Let me help you change and into bed. Then I will call Ellen and tell her what room we are in,” Dean was calm and it was starting to piss me off. This baby was three weeks early and I knew enough to know it was probably due to stress and my dad, but we were not ready just yet for her. We hadn’t even picked out a name yet.

“Yeah, okay, let’s do this,” I breathed out as another contraction hit. “Ahhh fuck!”

“Okay, kid. In and out; slow breaths. You can do this,” Dean breathed right along with me.

I looked up into his bright green eyes that I have loved for so many years. I was impressed that he remembered the breathing exercises from our birthing classes over a decade ago when RJ was born. The contraction passed just as the doctor knocked and walked in.

“Mrs. Winchester, I want to get you hooked up to the fetal monitor and see how your little trooper is doing and we are going to get you examined, too,” Dr. Fisher explained.

“Y/N, please,” I breathed out, feeling another one coming on and gripped Dean’s hand tightly.

“That is two minutes apart Doc, we don’t have time for this. She is coming now,” Dean relayed to the doctor.

“Right, let’s take a look, shall we?” Dr. Fisher covered my legs with a sheet. Ana was right there and pulled out the stirrups and a portable lamp.

“Y/N, I am going to need you to push when you feel the next contraction, alright? I can see the baby’s head, so this is going to be quick,” Dr. Fisher was suddenly all business and that actually calmed me down. I needed no nonsense at this point, not someone trying to my best friend; he was already here.

“It’s coming!” I shouted and squeezing Dean’s hand once more, I beared down as Ana counted.

Fifteen minutes later, our daughter made her debut into this world, screaming her little lungs out, at 2:35 in the morning. She weighed a respectable six pounds eight ounces and was 20 inches long. After the doctors and nurses left, I closed my eyes and thought about all that had happened in the last five hours: I thought my dad was dying, then my daughter was born. Emotions were running at an all time high and I broke down. Tears of relief flowed freely as I looked over at my husband, cradling our newborn daughter in his arms, cooing softly to her just as he had done with both our boys. I could tell my the look on his face and the tears in his eyes, she already had him wrapped around her little finger.

“Hey, Handsome,” I whispered and Dean looked over at me, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Hey, Kid, what’s wrong?” Dean asked as he rushed to me, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, one arm supporting our baby, the other wrapped around me.

“I’m okay; I’m happy, Dean. My dad is okay and our baby girl is here. I am relieved that everything worked out today; it is just a lot to take all at once,” I confessed.

“I know, Kid. I know. Look at our little girl, Y/N; she is perfect. You did good,” he looked down at me with so much love in his eyes.

“We did good, Dean. Now we just need some rest, but first, pass me our daughter, let’s see if she catches on as fast as her brothers did. Oh God! The boys! We need to tell everyone!” I gasped.

“We will. Let’s get some sleep first,” Dean kissed me and we both gazed down at our baby girl as she latched onto my breast and started suckling. Time seemed to pass quickly as she fed and soon Ana was back with a bassinet to take her to the nursery. We kissed our baby goodnight and then Dean stretched out on the sofa while I curled onto my side and slept.

~*~

Morning came quickly and before I was even finished with breakfast, a nurse was back with our daughter and the phone was ringing. She passed Dean the phone and me the baby for her morning feeding.

“Yes, Ellen, everything is just fine. We will be down in a an hour or so. I will, Okay, love you, too,” Dean placed the phone back on it’s cradle and just laughed.

“She can’t believe we haven’t brought her down yet. The boys are bouncing around and your dad is awake,” Dean relayed his conversation as both you and the baby finished your meals. “I also called Sammy, asked him to run by the house and grab the bags, he should be here any minute.”

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door. “Is that my beautiful niece?” Sammy’s voice filled the small room.

“Hey, Sammy, come meet her,” I smiled up at him, and passed her to Dean, while covering myself back up.

She looked even smaller in her uncle’s large arm than she did in Dean’s. “She is going to be so spoiled forever.”

“Yeah, she is,” Sam replied, a stupid grin etched into his face, making his dimples pop even more than usual.

I eased myself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Although I wasn’t as sore as I was with either of the boys, I still had some discomfort so the leggings and flannel I pulled on felt like heaven on my skin. I quickly brushed my teeth and hair, washed my face and was ready to head down to see the rest of our family.

~*~

“Knock, knock,” Dean rapped on the door of my dad’s room before pushing me through the opening. I was immediately swarmed by Ellen and both our sons, gushing over the newest addition to our family.

Dean and Sam made their way to Dad’s bed, greeting him with a handshake and a quick hug. Ellen pushed me closer and I eased myself out of the wheelchair. I rested my behind on the edge of Dad’s bed. “I would like you to meet your granddaughter,” I passed him the sleeping pink bundle.

“Hey Pumpkin, you can call me Papa,” Dad was already smitten with her and I couldn’t blame him really; we all were.

“Mom! Mom! Mom! What’s her name?!” Will started jumping up and down.

I looked over at my husband with raised eyebrows. He replied with a shrug.

“Boys, meet your sister; MaryEllen Grace Winchester; she is named after your grandmothers,” I announced and looked over at Ellen. Tears sparkled in her eyes and she wrapped me in a hug, holding tight.

“Thank you,” she whispered in my ear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I told her, my face buried in her hair.

Tags - feel free to do the thing: @iwantthedean @chelsea072498 @paintrider13-blog @d-s-winchester @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @just-another-busy-fangirl @winchesterprincessbride @waywardjoy @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @mamaredd123 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @sis-tafics  @katymacsupernatural @tankcupcakes  @death2thevirgin  @wonderange @padackles2010 @smoothdogsgirl @meeshw777 @tmccarney @milkymilky-cocopuff  @ashstrom87 @zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat @scorpiongirl1 @gemini75eeyore @katewatso @cosmicpeanuthologram @jotink78 @l8nitl0vr @supernaturalyobsessed @memphisgirl1977 @bmcnally85  @ruprecht0420 @mskitty416 @theoriginalvicki @hexparker @nanie5 @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @sandlee44 @fangirl1802 @moonstar86 @raylin19 @niamandthings  @feelmyroarrrr @kittenofdoomage @t-bear99 @hamartiamacguffin @colorfulobjectenemy @uttertrash--butlikecutetrash  @sammieb1127 @evyiione @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @moshingatthedisco  @winchestersmut  @alicat-life @mogaruke @cyrilconnelly @growningupgeek @charliebradbury1104 @evansrogerskitten @therewillbeblood @docharleythegeekqueen @megansescape @taste-of-dean  @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala  @deathtonormalcy56 @wildfirewinchester @notnaturalanahi @jensen-jarpad @impalaimagining @fangirlextraordinaire @itseverythingilike @jesspfly @love-kittykat21 @mrswhozeewhatsis @aiaranradnay @supernatural-jackles @samwinlover @iamnotsaneatall @autopistaaningunaparte @blacktithe7 @emoryhemsworth @dracotomanddeansprincess23 @bringmesomepie56 @devilgirlsarah @spnbaby-67 @holytrenchcoatedsubtextchuck @emilycollins11 @myoutletforfanfiction @deansangelgirl @mizzzpink @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @kayteonline @rockhoochie @wheresthekillswitch @percussiongirl2017 @fanfreak07 

Dean/Jensen only: @anokhi07 @perpetualabsurdity @txp87 @akshi8278  @iamabeautifulperson18 @suzannebeaketa @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deandoesthingstome @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @boxywrites  @deansangelgirl @sparklesuperwholock88 @ericaprice2008  @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid  @winchestersnfriends

#fast cars and freedom #fcaf #dean winchester x reader au #dean x reader au #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester au #dean fluff #dean fluffy angst

[glitteringconstellations]

Beacon (1/?)

words: 2137 Chapter 1: they say the world will end in fire

The earth was a sea of white-hot flames and acrid smoke.

The sky lit up with blinking star-like flashes Maria knew now to be hostile enemy fire upon her home. It made the already fiery evening sky feel even more ominous. The panicked screams of people around her rung in her ears, and she held her youngest daughter closer to her chest, gripping ever tighter to her son’s hand in hers as they pushed through the throngs.

There were only twelve shuttles evacuating people to the Lunar Space Stations—she sent a prayer of thanks up to the heavens that one was in Havana—and she was going to make damn sure her children were on it.

“Mamá, what about Papá?” the daughter who clung to the back of her shirt cried over the din. On her older daughter’s left, Maria’s fourth-born son pushed and shoved when people crowded too close.

“Your father will be right behind us,” Maria consoled, though the lump in her throat belied the terror she, too, felt. Her husband had left in search of their two adult children and was supposed to meet up with them. How they’d ever find each other, she didn’t know. But her focus now was the four children she had with her.

Her heart throbbed in agony. No, she would not lose another child this day.

Read on AO3

There was no stopping a mother still grieving, and she pushed her way to the front of the throng, taking elbows in the ribs and suffering through strangers yanking at her hair, pulling her back. The fences blocking off the military base were heavily armed. On a normal day, the soldiers could be intimidating; today, they were outright frightening.

“Only approved persons are permitted past this point!” one of the soldiers bellowed. “Have your documents ready and we will get you on the shuttle as quickly as we can!”

“Get us out of here!”

“Come on, man, there are kids here!”

“Don’t let us die!”

It was utter madness. Maria shielded her baby’s eyes when a man trying to climb the fence was shot. The screams and the shoving intensified, but Maria had a mission. An explosion rocked the ground beneath them—time was running short.

Her son pushed a path clear and finally—finally—stood before the gates onto the base. The solider before them held his rifle out to block them. “Stand back.”

“Please,” Maria gasped, “you must put my children on that shuttle.”

“We already have a list of approved citizens to board the shuttle first. State your name, present your papers, and we will have you through shortly.”

Maria didn’t have any papers, but that wasn’t going to stop her. “Sir, I beg of you, these children—”

“State your name, and present your papers,” the soldier interrupted, sternly.

“Maria McClain,” Maria snapped, desperation tingeing her voice. “Mother of Lance McClain, cadet of the Galaxy Garrison Defense Force, and if you have any respect for the memory of my boy, you will put my children on that shuttle.”

The solider gaped. The whole island had heard of Lance’s loss, of course; the whole world had. The international incident had brought down the heads of people around the globe in mourning for the three cadets lost. No one had had any idea that it would have been the catalyst for intergalactic war.

“Ma’am,” the soldier said after a long moment, his tone softening just a bit. To his credit, he did look rather distressed. “You have to understand that there is protocol that must be followed. I’m truly sorry for your loss, but—”

“Let them through,” a gruff voice said behind them. All six heads snapped up to the large soldier who’d stepped up behind the soldier, a bearded man of impressive height and wielded an even more impressive gun. He must have been an officer, judging by the varied medals fastened to his lapel.

“Sir,” the soldier saluted, but his face read confusion.

“Didn’t you get the memo, boy? They’re letting all the children on board regardless of papers.” He stared hard at the soldier, his tone brooking no argument. Maria couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, but she was grateful, and there was no time to waste. Ominous purple ships stood out against vibrant orange and deep indigo of the evening sky, the sky still alit with the firefight.

“Seleste, take your sister,” Maria said, holding the girl in her arms out for her teenaged daughter to take. Seleste obliged, but her face lit up in alarm.

“No, Mamá, we’re not leaving you—”

“You must follow this man and do as he says, mija,” Maria interrupted, turning to address all four of her children. She felt breathless that God was on her side in this most difficult time of need. “Gabriel, Clara, listen to your brother and sister. Seleste, Alvaro, take care of them. They will need someone to watch out for them while I’m not there.”

“Mamá, please,” Alvaro begged, tears stinging his eyes as his mother handed off Gabriel’s trembling hand to him. She shook her head. “Lance would never forgive us if we left you!”

“I’ll be on the next shuttle with Papá, Julio, and Isabel, okay? It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.” She pulled all of them in for a hug, pressing an urgent kiss to each forehead. “Now, go, mijos.” She looked to the senior officer, who nodded and waved her four children through.

“Mamí! Clara wailed, reaching out over Seleste’s shoulder. “Mamí, come with us!” Gabriel struggled against his brother’s hold, trying to reach their mother.

Maria watched with a breaking heart as the four of them were ushered through by the junior soldier into the line of people boarding the shuttles with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. She turned to the senior officer, who stood there, watching her.

“Thank you, sir, thank you,” she gasped on a shuddering sob. He only shook his head.

“I just want you to know, there’s no guarantee they’ll be any safer up there,” he said, slowly. And Maria knew that, she did. But this was their best option. She nodded anyway. The officer cleared his throat.

“I never met the boy, but I have a feel McClain would have made an excellent pilot.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder, and she bowed her head. “The young ones will be well looked after, madam, and we’ll do everything in our power to get everyone out of here to safety.”

Maria could only nod, tears streaming down her face. She thought of her husband, and her two remaining children, and her sister, and her parents, and prayed to God they were safe. But she had done it. Her babies would make it.

She gazed up to the terrifying, darkening sky, and prayed.

They had to make it.

---

Earth fell to its knees and bowed before Zarkon before the week was through.

---

“Paladins,” Allura called, “please meet Coran and I on the bridge for debriefing immediately. We have another distress signal we must pursue.”

An emergency mission to answer distress calls wasn’t unusual, Lance thought to himself. The urgency in Allura’s voice wasn’t necessarily unusual, either—she was very much of the mind that Voltron was obligated to answer every single distress call brought to their attention. Being the defender of the known universe came with a certain number of responsibilities, after all.

But seeing the pinched, pale look on both Allura and Coran’s faces when they converged on the bridge was unusual, and Lance felt his stomach lurch unpleasantly. Allura especially was as white as a sheet.

“What’s up, Allura?” Pidge said, adjusting her armor as she came into the room. She hadn’t picked up on the atmosphere yet. Smart as Pidge was, she was still the youngest of them all, and sometimes Lance envied the naivety that came with her age.

Shiro held no such luck. “You said there was a distress call,” he urged, frowning. Whatever it was they had to tell them, it wasn’t good. And if Shiro was worried—and he was, Lance could tell—then Lance was extra worried.

“Yes, yes,” Coran said, gesturing to the control panel he stood before. “The Galra have invaded yet another planet, I’m afraid.”

“Another?” Keith questioned, arching an eyebrow. “You mean there are planets out there other than Earth that they haven’t conquered yet?” Allura flinched, and no one missed that. Keith stiffened, going ramrod straight. “Allura.”

She wouldn’t meet their eyes. “I’m certain there are, the universe is vast even in terms of those planets beyond the still yet grips of the Galra. But…. Yes, the distress call came from the Terra Firma Quadrant.”

Cold fear settled in the pit of Lance’s stomach. Earth.

Hunk nearly swayed. “You mean, Earth? Our Earth? The ones where our families still are?” He looked very green. Lance didn’t blame him—his thoughts immediately flashed to his parents, his siblings. The ones who must have thought him dead, after all these months.

Coran nodded gravely. “I’m afraid so, my boy. We received a transmission from an Earth vessel hailing itself the Orion not even half a varga ago. It was a broadcast to all emergency channels, unfortunately, so we couldn’t respond.”

“That’s one of the Lunar Stations,” Pidge breathed. “People live in those, Allura. Civilians.”

“Yes, well, it seems we do have one small advantage,” Allura amended quietly. “The Galra haven’t seemed to have noticed the inhabitation of Earth’s moon. Granted, after that broadcast, it is very possible that the Galra know, now,” she added, her face still pinched as though the words themselves hurt her tongue.

Shiro took a deep, shaking breath, one that didn’t instill Lance with the usual confidence that oozed from their leader. “Can you show us the broadcast? We might be able to get more information out of it than you two could. No offense,” he added hastily.

Coran waved his hands. “None taken, Number One.” He turned to the control panel and tapped a few keys, before the transmission appeared on the hologram screen. A man Lance didn’t recognize in Garrison uniform appeared on the screen, looking harried. Behind him, about fifty personnel scrambled to maintain the controls of the bridge.

::This is the ILS Orion, broadcasting to all friendly parties. If there are any out there.:: The man cleared his throat. He had never done this before, Lance thought bitterly. Had never had to. ::I am Commander Henry Kravitz, of the United States of America—er, of Earth. I am the commanding officer of this Lunar Station, and we are in need of immediate assistance.::

::Approximately a year and a half ago, one of our exploration teams went missing from one of the moons of Pluto. Half a year ago, one crewmember from that team returned in a crash landing aboard an alien vessel, and promptly went missing from Garrison Custody.:: Lance cast a sideways glance over to Shiro, who gripped the back of his chair so tightly the metal of it crumpled slightly under his Galra prosthetic.

::Three Garrison cadets went missing from the academy the same night of the crash,:: the Commander continued. ::We attempted to make contact by means of the wrecked vessel. It took months of recovery and salvage, but we finally managed to get the ship’s communication functioning. We had hoped that we would find answers to our missing crew and cadets… but what we found was beyond our worst nightmares.::

“They’re talking about us,” Hunk murmured, wide-eyed and horrorstruck. Honestly, Lance could relate. That cold dread had settled deep in his bones, and he found, for once, he was completely speechless.

Pidge shushed him, eyes glued to the hologram.

::…the ships arrived scarcely a fortnight ago, opening fire without discrimination. We managed to evacuate approximately five hundred thousand people, worldwide, to the Lunar Stations before our bases were overrun. We have no communication with Earth any longer. We have no idea how many survivors there are, if any. We don’t know what the hostiles want. We have little in the way of defense, besides a paltry few turret guns. Our stations are hiding in the Moon’s shadow, at present, and this message is encrypted to only the emergency channels, but there’s no telling how long it is before we are discovered.::

::It’s a shot in the dark, but we’re hoping that if there are hostile aliens out there, there might be some friendlies, too. So please…:: Commander Kravitz took off his hat, fury and fear clear upon his face. ::If you see this transmission, if you understand it, please send us your aid. The future of humankind depends on it.::

The transmission cut out, leaving only a terrible silence on the bridge of the Castle of Lions.

#voltron #voltron legendary defender #fic: beacon #chapter 1 #reunion fic #angst with a happy ending #lance #pidge #hunk #shiro #keith #allura #coran

[thecatsaesthetics]

Okay so this is a Gisla/Rollo fic (My first for them) or maybe it’s more Anti-current Gisla/Rollo. I just had alot of feelings about how the show was portraying them and needed to write it down. Honestly this may fit more in line with the historic figures. 

This is probably gonna be an AU given the current episode might make some things not happen. This is working on the notion that Gisla just thinks Rollo is raiding Christian lands though. Which I don’t think is out of the realm of possibility. 

*******I should put a trigger warning in this, their is mention of rape and a sexual assault scene. So please if that kinda talk or stuff upsets you please do not read*******

Hope you enjoy, please leave me a comment 

Read here or on AO3 X

Clay

The summer breezy was gentle against Gisla’s skin and the salt from the sea could be smelt even within the castle. The summer nights were short and quick, and Gisla would be so often reminded of the happiness that use to surround summer. Rollo and she had spent these last nine summers with relative ease and comfort.

Gisla tried, as she did could not push the memory of her husband far from her head. When the sky swirled together to signal the change in time Gisla would even admit she missed him. Moreover she could not seem to hate him. Gisla knew what it was to hate someone, she knew what is was to love someone, however for the first time she experienced hating the warm feelings she still felt towards him.

Most of all she hated the longing. Gisla thinks she might be able to put up with her mixed emotions towards Rollo, if only she did not long for him so. Yet when she looks at his empty throne she longs for him, she burns for him. She rages inside her head. How could leave? He belongs here. With her, with their children, he did not belong with his pagans. She fears after not hearing word from him that his pagans killed him when they left. Gisla calls him a fool in her mind, for only a fool would leave everything they’ve built together for men who he could neither trust nor rely on.

Gisla had pleaded with him, raged at him, demanded from him; she had tried everything within her power to keep him from leaving. Yet he left. Fool, Fool, Fool. She chanted in her head when he left, she willed herself not to cry, she was a daughter of Frankia, she would not let anyone see her cry. She did not give Rollo her blessing as he left, she did not look at him. She gave him nothing.

Yet still she misses and longs for him. Gisla misses his heavy breathing at night, a sound she had grown so accustom to, she misses his weight on her bed, she misses watching him at his desk, she misses helping him rule Normandy, she misses seeing him play with their children. She simply misses him. It was a safe thought in her head, but she would never confess this, even to her Priest, that she misses him. When she goes to her Priest for confessional she makes no mention of her Viking husband for fear the words will slip between her lips.

Too proud, too ashamed, too hurt. Most women, most Princesses, would scorn, hate, rage, bitter themselves against any man who dare abandon them with three children none the less. But Gisla cannot, her heart still longs for him. Each night after her children were asleep, she would sit by her fireplace and play with the arm ring Rollo gave her so long ago. His long ago promise to her that he was hers, a promise that amounted to nothing in the end. She would eye his empty chair beside hers.

She would stare at the fire, her thoughts consuming of him, and wonder does he think of her as well? On the camp side of some foreign beach, does he long for her as she does him? Or is the excitement of treasure, drinking, and women enough to push her from his thoughts? Is his bed as cold as her is? Or has he found someone to replace her? Does he dream of their happy life the way she does? Or is glad that his time with her has passed?

Was that happiness all a lie? Rollo promised that this life was what he had wanted, and yet in a flash of an eye he had broken his word. Was she too blinded by her love for him to see his unhappiness, or was Rollo just a very different man from who he appeared to be.

At times she would sit and wonder what fault she committed as a wife that he felt the need to leave her. Though Gisla could not find any fault in herself. As a wife she had done everything she was meant to. What had she not done? She had gone into childbed for him, each time with the fear she would not come out, bore three living children, lost others, raised his children to love and admire him, had guided him while ruling Normandy, had told him of the neighboring countries, of their cultures, looked over his papers, she stood beside him in battles, properly arranged their household, and promoted him to her father. Most importantly she had… she had loved him. Fully and unrepentantly, she had put aside her hatred for Vikings, for his culture, for his birth, for his worship of false gods, and loved him anyways. She was no fool, she knew Rollo was not a Christian in his heart, that he still longed for his pagan gods and yet she had put that aside. She had allowed herself to love him despite his lack of devotion to her faith.

Still this was how he saw fit to reward her good nature towards him. Abandonment. If not for her three children she might have wished she had obtained that annulment so many years ago. She had thought she knew Rollo, she expected much from him but never abandonment.

It stung at her heart whenever she thought of the word, but it was true she was abandoned. She could do nothing but wait for her Viking husband to return from raiding Christian lands, plundering God’s houses, and raping decent Christian women. Rollo could not think she would ever forget his brother’s raid on her beloved Paris. Rollo could not possibly think she did not know what raiding with his nephews would bring, what he would do and what sins he would commit. Rollo would damn his soul to eternal torment by raiding; he will commit the most unchristian acts. Gisla nearly wept at that thought, Rollo did not care, he did not care at all that he would be damning himself to eternity without her, without there children, to unimaginable hell.

           When messengers came from her father demanding to know why her husband had left she was lost for words. All she could do was request her father support her as Regent for her son, William, and that she prayed for Rollo’s safe return to them soon. Though the last part was a lie, she could not bend her knees and pray to god for her husband’s safe return. She would not pray for his safety in battle over innocent Christians. She could not. At night she prayed that her husband would see the errors of his ways and seek penance for his sins.

All she could now is wait.  

~~~~~~~

Weeks passed and the summer months were long gone and the chill in the air grew. Normandy had cold winters, for so long this factor had not been a thought in her head, as she had Rollo to keep her warm at night. Now… now he was gone. She had expected Rollo to return to Normandy by fall at least. She knew very well that winter months were unsuitable for raiding.

News reached the court by Christmas that Ragnar Lothbrok has died, killed in a pit of snakes by King Aelle of Northumbria. The news makes Gisla’s heart startle for the first time in months, the man who held a knife to her throat, who used her faith to attack beloved Paris was dead. Gisla could not help but celebrate the death of the Viking demon that had caused so many innocents to die had suffered horrible before his death and she took comfort in the fact that those souls he took could now join The Lord in peace. She celebrated The Lords birth more joyfully then she intended and Rollo hardly even entered her thoughts.  

           In the back of her mind she must have known this joy would not last. Not long after Christmas, as she was still basking in this triumph, Gisla was punished again. Her beloved little Marcellus had caught a sudden chill and fever, she had sat at his bed side with cool cloths and the physician she employed but it was of no use. Marcellus was dead before the morning light hit him. As the Priest preformed last rites Gisla recalled how his labor had lasted more then 3 days, he took longer to birth then to die.

           She touched his soft brown curls before they took him away. Sealing his face to her memory. Marcellus was such a sweet boy, yet of both her sons he was the only one to look like Rollo. His name on her mind caused her curse. He should be here she thought bitterly. He should not be off with his Vikings or dead at the bottom of the sea, but with her and their children. He should have been there for Marcellus. She felt her eyes become wet; her son had been strong and healthy, then suddenly dead. Her confessor even told her that God finds ways to punish the wicked in the harshest of ways.

During her son’s funeral little William come to her, she petted his blonde hair, and held him close.

“Mama why did Marcellus die?” He questioned her.

“Your father killed him.” Gisla responded coldly. She then knelt down to his level and said “Your father angered God by abandoning Normandy and God in turn took his vengeance out against us and took Marcellus from us.”

William stood there in shock, looking at his brother’s casket.

“William promise me,” Gisla said, taking her young son by both hands. “Swear to me you will never abandon Normandy or Frankia.”

“I will mother.” William said, though Gisla heard fear behind his voice. He had no father to make a man of him Gisla though. She would have to do. For if Rollo did not return, all William will know of ruling will come from her.

Outside Gisla knew the trees surrounding them were bare and no leaves grew on them. Gisla felt as though all her remaining love for Rollo had been taken with the winter.

 ~~~~~~~~

With her new lack of feelings towards Rollo discovered, Gisla was able to put more time and effort into home life and defense. In the weeks after Marcellus’ death Gisla found herself too focused to even think of her long gone husband.

Yet as suddenly as he left her had returned. It was still winter, yet the snows had all but melt and Gisla new spring was going to be upon them soon.  His arrival home was announced to her as Gisla was helping to teach her daughter, Celsa, how to make proper stitches. When the servant had announced the Duke had returned, Gisla felt her blood run cold. He entered the great room, his eyes were lite and his grin was large. It was plain to Gisla he did not suffer from their separation. In appearance though he was utterly Viking, his clothing, his hair, and his beard. He looked like the animal she first met, not the man she fell in love with. She knew by his appearance that he had fully rejoined his people in all aspect. His eyes did not even meet hers; instead he went to Celsa first, picking her up in his arms, commenting on how she had grown over this past year.

“Where are your brothers?” He said cooing at little Celsa.

“William is with his tutor and Marcellus is dead.” Gisla said sharply calling for the nurse to take her daughter to her lessons.

“What?” Rollo asked in complete shock, his eyes now attempting to hold hers.

“He died shortly after Christmas, a fever took him. You only have one son now, if you wish to visit him as I said he’s with his tutor.” Gisla said, willing her voice not to crack or break. She could not show him or she would break. She would allow him to make up for his mistakes, and she could not allow that. She simply took her daughter from his arms and gave her to the nurse. She then turned to leave the room.

“You did not think to send me a message?” Rollo asked. With that Gisla whipped her head back. Their was a ringing in her ears. How dare he.

“Where would have I sent such a message? To the towns you plundered? To the bottom of the ocean where I hoped you might be. To your filthy pagan village? You think I’d dare put one of my people in such danger in the hopes of finding you?” Gisla said with venom in her voice and began to exit the room.

“Gisla…” Rollo called out to her. “Please Gisla… hear me out.”

Gisla stopped in her tracks but did not turn her head.

“No, my lady or wife. Nothing more.” Gisla said and walked out of the room.

~~~~~~

Rollo gave his wife a few days before visiting her chambers, it was late at night and Gisla was sitting in her chair sewing up a tear in one of her gowns. Rollo admired it from afar, he knew the gowned very well. He had picked out the fabric for her years ago. She had it fashioned into a rather beautiful dress. It was so beautiful that Gisla decided to keep it for so many years.

“May I sit with you?” Rollo asked as he entered. He had taken over an hour to gather up the courage to come talk with her.

“This is your castle, you are entitled to sit where you please.” Gisla responded not looking up at him.

“Gisla…” He said softly, reaching out to touch her arm but stopping himself at the last moment. “You are angry, I deserve that, you hate me, and I deserve that as well. I deserve all these things, but I know you. I know you are not just feeling hatred towards me but you are also mourning Marcellus.”

At the name of her dead son Gisla’s hands frozen, her throat dried and her heart became sick.

“You cannot do this alone love. I know how you love our children. Would Marcellus want you to do this alone? Would he not want his parents to mourn him together?” Rollo said hopefully. Gisla looked up at him, and met his eyes. Her eyes were steel against his.  

“Do you know what my priest told me after he died?” Gisla asked rhetorically “He told me the story of King David losing his first born son by Bathsheba. Now you see Bathsheba was a married woman when David met her, but her marriage did nothing to stop King David. He took her anyways, and she became pregnant with his child. So David unfairly placed Bathsheba’s husband in battle to ensure his death and then he married the dead man’s widow who he had dishonored.”

“Where is this going?” Rollo asked slightly annoyed.

“David angered God, and God took his vengeance out on David and Bathsheba’s son, killing it mere hours after its birth.” Gisla said.

Rollo was silent. The implications of what Gisla had said spoke volumes. She blamed him; her forgiveness was something he could never ask for. It was out of the realm of possibility.

As Rollo shock over came him Gisla stood up and went over to her jewelry box, she pulled out Rollo’s arm ring, and clasped it between her fingers. She went back over to their matching chairs and placed the bronze ring on the arm of the chair. She sat back down in her chair and went back to sewing. Rollo looked the arm ring for a long moment before picking it up. He then stood to leave her chamber.

“You should not come here again Rollo.” Gisla spoke before he left, her eyes lingering on the torn gown. “You must grow content with our two remaining children. For unless you wish to demand your marital right and force yourself on me, like I don’t doubt you did the poor other Christian women on your travels, then you shall have no more children from me.”  Gisla said.  

Rollo did not deny her accusations; he simply nodded and left her chambers.

~~~~~~~~

Not even the summer heat could thaw Gisla to Rollo. As time went on the once happy couple saw very little of each other. They each perform their duties separately. Gisla spent her time mostly with her children, with the management of the castle and praying for her dead son. Gisla tried not to hear the servants gossip but her ears were all too open. They giggled over the fact that her sheets were only in need of washing when her monthlies came and that the Duke had taken a slave woman he captured to his bed at night. If someone had whispered this years ago, Gisla might have flown into a rage against her husband, and yet now she felt nothing. No pain, no love, only pity for whatever poor girl he was holding against her will.

           Rollo on his part grew less patient with his wife’s coldness and began to lash out on her whenever he saw her. Though he did not demand martial rights, nor did he hit her, his anger towards her was well known. He would snap at her for the smallest of things while in her presence. Which was not often, most days he spent little time with her, his children, or even the Castle. Instead he fled to taverns and whore houses, enjoying all the delights his wife denied him. He found sick comfort in the fact that he may do as he pleased whereas Gisla would never know another man so long as she lived.  

           Rollo’s time with her grew so faint that Gisla was shocked one evening when he demanded she eat supper with him at his table.

             “Your father wrote to me.” Rollo said halfway through the meal.

Gisla took a sip of her goblet of wine and then asked “What news does he have from Paris?” Gisla realized this was no romantic gesture but rather him informing her of something.  

“It is my nephews, the sons of Ragnar, they have a larger army which invaded Wessex and Northumbria. They have killed King Aelle, they butchered him.” Rollo spoke, Gisla could see the pride in his face and near wanted to vomit.

“To avenge that fiend of a father.” Gisla said bitterly.

“Careful.” Rollo warned. “Ragnar was my brother. His sons have every right to seek revenge. He was a man of great gifts and he was murdered.”

“Your brother?” Gisla mocked “You expect me to pity him? The man who held a knife to my throat, who plundered my city? How could I ever feel anything but hatred towards him?” Gisla asked rhetorically.

“I did not come here to fight with you. Only to tell you that my nephews have begun to avenge their father’s death.” Rollo said wearily.

Gisla sighed and was silent for a moment, then asked.

“And you stay here? Do you not wish to go with your nephews and avenge your brother death as well?”

“My place is here.” Rollo simply responded

“Is it? I thought you were a Viking? I thought you told me that part of you will always long for that life? Here is your chance to prove yourself to me again. Leave Normandy, use the army my father provided. Attack The King of Wessex and help your nephews. I’m sure after you prove your loyalty to them they will welcome you with open arms. For what Vikings would not want you then. I’m sure they would rejoice in knowing you would be their beside them, killing Christian men and raping Christian women, you seem to have quite the taste for it.” Gisla said bitterly. For the first time she had brought up the knowledge of Rollo’s behavior and Gisla could tell by the red in his face she had gone too far.

With that Rollo slammed his fists down on, and threw his plate off the table. He went over to Gisla, and while he did not touch her, the look in eyes made Gisla’s heart shiver with fear.

“You are my wife. I will take none of your judgments or your petty jealousy; you were given to me by your father to be my wife. If you wished others not to warm my bed you should not have denied me my rights. But I am sure your God will understand your betrayal of sacred marriage vows.” Rollo said leaning very close to her face, his hot spit flinging into her face. Gisla attempted to leave but Rollo gripped her wrists and forced her to stay seating in her chair. Gisla heart raced, she had never feared Rollo like she had in this moment. Even on her wedding night, when she was certain she would be raped and brutalized by him, she never feared him like this. He crotched low to her ear, her caressed it with his nose, breathing in her the scent of her hair, Gisla stomach churned. “I do not answer to you wife. You should have been grateful I even returned to you. That I did not stay with my people, that I returned and allowed you to have a proper status again. If I had died who would marry you? The Christian woman who had bed a Viking of her own fear will? Who took pleasure in my bed? What good Christian Lord or Prince would want you or look after our children? What would your father have done with you when William came of age? A convent? Or marry you to the lower level Lord who would take you? Would they have been kind to you? No my dear, you should have opened your arms and you legs to me again when you saw that I had not abandoned you to such a fate. One day you’ll learn that you shouldn’t have treated me so.” He said kissing and licking the inside of Gisla ear. He then bite it sharply and she yelp. He chuckled at her pain. He let go of her wrists and pushed himself away from her. He shoved her porridge and meat to the floor, and knocked over her wine glass. “Go hungry for all I care.” and fled the room.  

Gisla began to shake after Rollo left, her rubbed her wrists and saw that her arms were beginning to bruise, her eyes felt wet, her heart raced like horses on the move. Servants rushed into the room, and cleaned up Rollo’s mess. Gisla wondered what they must think. Did they pity her, being married to a brute? Or did they think her cold and deserving of her husband’s abuse and neglect?

Gisla’s pride ate away at her; she felt heat rising on her face. How dare Rollo do this to her, how dare he make her suffer this humiliation. She near ran to her chambers, and slammed her door shut. She sent her servants away. Picking up the nearest vase she smashed it to the ground. It’s clay pieces scattering all around Gisla. The clay was easily broken, Gisla hardly need to put any force into the matter.

She sat down on her bed, and allowed tears to fall out. Rollo had once swore his destiny was to be with her, she had clung to that idea over this past year. Yet he had done this, he had left her and now he humiliates and torments her. Was this her destiny? Was what Rollo had said those years ago been a lie?

They were still together, that much was true, but Gisla reasoned, destiny may not mean happiness together?

#princess gisla #vkrollo #rollo #rolisla #rollo x gisla #vikings #sorry if this is so angsty #and long #been working on it for a week

[tihemme]

The Summer My Brilliant Mother Blew Her Own Mind - Part 1

August whatever, the last batch of students graduated Friday, and I’m broke. I’ve hunkered down for a two-week forced vacation, throughout which I intend to stave off next year’s inevitable financial crisis by drafting yet another television series proposal - but then my mother calls. “What the hell is going on?” And now I’m pissed at my brother. I told him yesterday over the phone that I’d had tests, and had failed them, that I needed to redraft my will. Would he be my executor? And no, I wasn’t sure how sick, I wouldn’t know for a few months, and no, I wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon, but as is, my ex-fiance from before my ex-husband would inherit everything, including an old set of vinyl I gave up in my 30s, and a poster collection I left in storage fourteen moves ago. And maybe my youngest daughter, God help him. “Don’t tell Mum or Dad.” “I won’t. But you should.” “I will.” “It’ll be worse if you don’t.” “I know.” “So, when?” “When there’s something to tell, T; I don’t want to worry them.” “I’m going to kill him.” “Kill who?” “T. I told him not to worry you.” “About what?”

Dammit!  This is my mother. She always does this. 

“T didn’t say anything?” “I haven’t talked to your brother in weeks.” Of course she hasn’t. “So, spill it. What’s wrong?”

Trapped, I tell her. Struggling to keep my shit together, I pace, voice wavering, confused dog at my heels, getting underfoot. I tell her all about it, and how I need her not to worry. And of course, I’m terrified, and she’s not an idiot. Hearing my mother’s voice, I fall to fucking pieces, and she takes over. As she rationalizes about cysts and lumps and all this progress that’s been made in the field of breast cancer research, I bite hard into my knuckles to stifle violent, body-wracking sobs.

“This is ridiculous. You need to be here,” she says. “You need to take a break, and be here.”

I have no one else. This bothers her.  My best friends are all colleagues. I doubt I register in the top 20 of any of their friends lists, but this is of no concern to any of us. I love them anyway. To keep things simple, I call them my “best-friend/colleagues.” The slash here acts as a kind of connective tissue; it connects the two concepts for me, while creating a safe barrier for them - like a tissue blocking snot. With it, they can keep calling me “colleague” while I call them “best friends,” and we each know who we’re talking about in the relative safety of our social-slash-work environment. 

I can shoot the shit with the best of them (which is all of them) about anything, but this. I can’t tell any of them about this. 

One of my best-friend/colleagues lost his wife two years ago, and cannot escape the vortex of grief. I worry for him every day, especially on the anniversary of her passing, which he marks monthly. I did the same when I lost my first true love at 20, followed weeks later by our premature stillborn baby. Twenty-six years on, I still feel that ache, so I think maybe I almost understand. He gets so sad so easily, and I’m honoured he trusts us so openly with his pain, but it’s also worrisome. Sometimes I wonder how he grieves at home, and it’s an unbearable thought. If this best friend found out his colleague was sick with the same thing that robbed him of his wife, I think he might be triggered. I suspect he’d need to insulate, and isolate, and so keep his distance, and that’s also unbearable to imagine. 

Also, the one time I offered to do something with him socially - I think it was to see a film - he delicately suggested I look into dating apps. So no, I will not be telling him. 

My absolute best-best-friend/colleague doesn’t exactly know he’s my best-best friend, but I don’t mind. He’s always appreciated my weird sense of humour, and doesn’t seem bothered when we happen to be scheduled to work on the same days. When we get the chance, we talk, a lot - well, I do, and he responds - but there’s an awful lot I don’t tell him. Like how he’s the only non-relative I’m leaving anything to in my redrafted will. Or how much I look forward to seeing him each week, and that when I don’t, it occurs to me to miss him. But because I’m still not convinced he hasn’t added me to his Restricted list on Facebook, I worry that if he did know either of these things, he’d shut me down completely, and without saying a word. Like, colleague/friendly ghost me. Or recommend I check out dating apps, too. 

So no damn way am I telling him about my boob. 

My female best-friend/colleagues are all my age or slightly older, and each of us is going through our own shit right now. I could tell them, I guess, but I don’t. You see, this mid-life gynoshittery is a contest none of us wants to participate in, let alone win. Don’t get me wrong, menopause and endometriosis and the national average pay gap are all over the staff room table when it’s all women present, but not breasts.

If you knew less about me, perhaps you’d suggest I should have more friends, like maybe outside work. 

I’ve tried. 

I used to ref roller derby. So long as you’re concussion-and-fracture free, a tighter community is hard to find. Before that, I was in the army. Those relationships ended not much differently than derby’s did, if far more violently.

In the intervening years, I had a husband. He didn’t approve of many of my friends, unless they were our friends - by which I mean, his friends - due to his belief that regardless of the age, marital status or gender of any of my own, I had to be sleeping with them. So, to save us all the embarrassment of his persistent public confrontations on the matter, I opted out of having any friends. For twenty years.

So anyway, yeah - my colleague/friends really are all I have. 

There is no one else.

Mum’s text reads, “You’br stil craming out, right?” I’ve been thinking about it, for sure, and I miss her, but I’m not sure I can justify it. I have a massive application deadline for the end of the month. Plus, these next two weeks off aren’t exactly voluntary. I’m not getting paid, and money’s tighter than it’s been in a couple of years. And she’s in bloody Saskatchewan. 

“There’r b rst beef anf Yorkshire pddinh.” 

Okay, just to be clear, no one makes gluten free Yorkshire pudding quite like my stepfather does. Think bannock in a gravy bowl. And I can tell, this last push is from him.

“Oh, well, okay then - I’ll be there Wednesday,” I joke back, still not committed. It’s Sunday morning. “Ok, we br reedy.”

My mother is a PhD. She taught upper-level anthropology courses for twenty years. So she takes proofreading very, very seriously, even with texts. But since her house almost completely burned down this past March, I’ve noticed she’s been letting things slide. And I mean, a lot.

I turn to my youngest, who’s bitched all summer about us not camping, not really taking a holiday, no promised one-on-one time without siblings and bickering. 

“Wanna go see Nan?” “What-? When?” “If we pack now, we can leave first thing. Camp a couple of nights on the way, and get there for Wednesday.” 

It’s fire season - the worst one yet - and I’m still not feeling well, so I clarify that by “camp,” I mean “sleep in the van and eat take out along the way.” My daughter’s kind of camping, but this isn’t exactly fair notice. 

“There’ll be Yorkshire pudding.”

Enough said. We start packing in the late afternoon, and I’m in the middle of drawing up a list of documents I’ll need to pull out of my ass the second I get back to hit that deadline, plus a list of groceries to cut costs for meals for the trip, when I stop suddenly, hit by a strange wave of anxiety. I look at my daughter. 

“Hey. Wanna leave tonight?”

Now I’m freaking myself out. My perfectly rational fear of animals darting out onto highways after dark means I have never, ever left for a multi-day drive any later than noon on the first day. So I don’t understand it. But I don’t want to argue with it. I need to leave now, and for once, my daughter shares my sense of urgency. 

We’re on the road within the hour, listing off all the shit we’ll need to grab along the way, calling the bank to add up the balances - we seriously can’t afford this right now, it’s ridiculous - realizing this is a mistake, and knowing, somehow, that it’s not. 

By the time we hit Merritt, the sun’s down. We pit stop at a gas station in Kamloops, and run into a motorcyclist who’s run into a deer. I text my best-best friend to tell him. His ex rides a bike, and sideswiped a moose last week - only she wasn’t on her bike at the time, but in a compact car that is now slightly more compact, but thankfully not bent in half like this biker was, or his bike. 

As soon as I hit Send, I wonder vaguely if my random texts outside work might annoy my bbf/c, and vow to not bother him anymore.

Pulling into Salmon Arm, we see the aftermath of another fresh kill. Whatever it is is large and hairy, and splayed out in the road in many more pieces than nature intended. It’s 11 PM, and I decide to stop for the night at nearby Yard Creek. The kid and I look up through the cracked windscreen at stars we haven’t seen since last year, and zzzzfoooph, spot a meteor. Briefly entertained, we crawl into the back of the motorized tent, and are asleep within moments. 

I wake at 6:30 to the lilt of morning birdsong, and a familiar dull throbbing pain deep in my left breast. 

The kid wants to sleep in, but I’m getting restless, so fire up the old Dutch oven. She chases me all the way from the van to the outhouse. Now both wide awake, we pee, brush our teeth, and go.

We stop for breakfast at Denny’s in Revelstoke, almost too tired to care about cross-contamination. My daughter orders her usual, and our waitress - trying to be helpful - recommends something from the 55+ menu for me. 

Do I really look so much older than I feel? 

My daughter assures me the waitress is just saving us money. Build-your-own breakfasts add up fast, and this way, it’s half the price. Fine. Whatever. I pick at my stingy eggs and bacon with wheat-free toast, and call Mum to tell her where we are. 

“What’s your ETA, then?” I have no idea. “8:30,” I say. “Will you push through, or camp again?” I just said... “Push through,” I answer. “Call me when you get to the junction at Maple Creek,” she says, “so Grrpa can put the pizza on.”

Grrpa is my stepdad. 

We’re on the road again by 7:45, but it feels later. Golden, Banff, Calgary for a pee break and to gas up. Naturally, there’s a BC fruit stand in the parking lot.  “Text Nan and tell her 7:30.” Brooks, Medicine Hat, the last exit to Drumheller, the needle locked on 130 all the way. I’ve been highway driving for almost ever, and rarely exceed 120.  “Text Nan and tell her 6:30.” We enter Saskatchewan, and I realize that even with the time change, we’ll be there by 5:30 at the latest.

Mum waits until the exact moment we blast through the Maple Creek junction to pull her next magic trick. 

“Text Nan and tell her -” The phone rings. 

“Where are you now?” “Jesus, Mother, are you fucking psychic?” 

It’s complete rhetoric. I expect her to say, “Well, we did just put the pizza on,” or “So, while you’re in Maple Creek,” or “Welcome to Saskatchewan; what’d you do, FLY?”

Except -  “… What?” 

She doesn’t get it. 

“Where are you?”

My daughter and I share a look. Something’s wrong. 

“We’re blas - just driving past Maple Creek now. We’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll tell Denis. We’re having pizza. Is that okay?” Denis is my stepdad, but I don’t call him that. I’ve never called him that. He’s Grrpa, even to me. 

“Okay.”

Something’s really wrong.

“See you soon.” She hangs up, and my daughter and I don’t say a word as I edge over 140. I can’t say what it is, but it’s urgent, and horrid and heavy and late. For what, I don’t know. But it’s all I can think. We’re late, we’re so late. We’re too late. 

We’re too late.

[jaywolf92-blog]

A Mile In Their Shoes

Many of us face different types of struggles in life. Some financially, some emotionally, some mentally and yes even some sexually. sometimes, its more than just a struggle. It can be a war. A living hell. Somethings cant be explained, even when you can see the damage take a toll on your friends. Maybe even your family, your significant other or even yourself. The only difference, is some people who are affected by it cant see it themselves and are led to believe its their fault. It’s a feeling than can not be controlled. Maybe kept under watch. But it’s an inner demon that’s hell bent on destroying you from the inside out. A darkness that swallows you whole. An endless pit that makes you feel as though you are nothing, worthless how you’ll never amount to anything nor be loved by anyone. The love of your life can be completely devoted to you, and somehow you'll still feel as though she wants and deserves better. So it eats you slowly. Creating confusion, anger, sorrow, fear, frustration. Leading to more, swirling together as though it was mixing a recipe that forms into unstable pain. From your heart, to your soul, to your body. The darkness is the human hearts greatest enemy. It can even get to the point where it can kill you.It might be easier to explain if i shared my story to the world. So that maybe, just maybe it can help save someone from their demons. I’ve had many nicknames along the road on this adventurous life. Jorgie, Jorgito, gochino, Jo-Jo, Godfather, Damien, Jay. But i will forever remember myself, as the bastard Jorge. It may be a little difficult to explain what has happened in my life while dealing with this internal struggle. So i hope you can bare with me. And i’ll try and make this quick without sugar coating anything and hopefuly get my main point across. I was born on labor day, september 7th, 1992. In Berwyn Illinois. From what i remember correctly, the ones in the room with my mother were my grandmother, and my aunts i believe. My father, knowing his first born son was being born, decided to spend that moment drinking at the bar with his friends. My mother originally wanted me born as ‘Damien Louis Spohn’. Umfortunately, my father being the man he is, wanted his child named after him. So i was born Jorge Contreras. Now, with my memory being a little fuzzy at that young age, i can still remember moments from that time period. However, not many of them were joyful. My father would rather spend time with booze instead of the woman he got pregnant and his son who, for some ungodly known reason, looked up to him. My first memory of those days, my father comes home late one night. My mother, the hard working saint that she is, did not have time to cook dinner that night. He was not a very happy man. I cant remember what exactly was being said, but i can remember the anger from his voice. That chilling fearing vibe that came from his hate. My mother trying to apologize, yet angry with him for spending all of their money on alcohol, he broke the glass kitchen table with his fist. I remember seeing the droplets of blood on the floor leading to the bathroom. My mother crying, and me not understanding the full situation, i walk into the bathroom where my father was showering. I Remember asking him if he was ok. He brushed me off and told me to get the hell out. I was only a child, concerned with his fathers well being.As time went by, all i could remember was my fathers anger. All of the yelling, the fighting and alcoholism. My mother being lost and scared, i tried to ignore it all by playing my old sper nintendo. But even though my eyes were on that screen, my ears were open to what was going on around me. One day, i suppose my mother had enough. I saw my dather packing stuff in his car. And i ran across the street, asking, “Papi, where you going?” I asked if i could go with him. After that, i dont remember. What i do remember is that it became more deifficult for my mother and I. We left that apartment. My mother and i found an apartment in lyons Illinois. She had to work alot. I was either at school, or with a babysitter. The only time i saw her was late at night. We would watch t.v. together, She would read me a bedtime story, She was trying to provide for her child, while struggling to even see him. My father, every now and then, would pick me up for a weekend. The only thing was, i dont believe it was father son time. He needed an outlet for his drunken rage moments. I became his punching bag that stayed quiet. Now i’m sure a lot of people would ask, “Why didn’t you tell someone?” The answer was quite simple. I knew who he was, and what he was capable of. So i feared him as though he was the devil himself. I took my bruises, took my lumps and stayed quiet. And like a scared little fool, who barely saw his mother, rarely his father, I only wanted My parents. Over time, my father created something inside of me that would lead to a series of events that would become the the road i walk now, and the person i am today. My mother met a man at her job. A good man. One who actually gave a damn about her and her safety. To even accept the fact that she had a pre-started family. Now i know i wasn't an easy child to get along with. And this man was new. But i saw how my mom would smile. And she asked me one day if it was alright that he became a part of our lives. I told her yes, because i want her to be happy. Now being young, going through some events to be able to tell when someone makes another human happy instead of being scared they’d be taken away, is just questioning what the child has seen before he even hit the age of 7. By that age, my mother told me to pray to god, for a sister or a brother. I remember i was so excited about that, i prayed as hard as i could. Asking God to give me a little brother to play walkie talkies with, or soldier or pokemon. Or even a sister, i just want a friend. November 20th, 1999. A beautiful baby girl was born. My baby sister. My Alyssa. My kiddo. But of course, as time went by, This man would seem like he started to change. And i began to feel ignored. Different. Unwanted. As though i was a ghost. Now that i’m older i understand why my mothers attention would be focus on a new born, a potential new husband and her job. Now she did not make a lot. She was a waitress. But a damn good hard working one at that. They both worked hard, and got us away from the city. We moved into a suburb. About almost an hour drive away. That’s where i met my first, best friend. As my sister grew, He and I had great times together. We laughed, rode bikes, played soldier and spent the night at each others homes playing video games and watching silly movies. But i wasn’t always happy. As a matter of fact, i was the opposite. Something was stirring inside of me. A conflict I've never experienced. Something i couldn’t understand. As time passed, I still visited my father when he did make good on his word. Because i had hopes that i can still have a father. My step father and I, never really saw eye to eye. His focus was on his daughter. My mothers focus, was keeping her husband and raising her daughter. Making sure her family can get by in a one story house in a nice neighborhood. I pushed away my step father, because i still had hopes for mine. But instead of a father, who would teach me how to catch, how to dress, guidance through tough times or even just how to be a man in general. But it was always the same thing. ‘I love you mijo.’ over the phone became something dark. One day, I remember very clearly. He was drinking with his friends in the apartment, Still living around the Berwyn and Cicero area. I remember he was yelling, laughing with mariachi music i the background. As time went by that night, his voice became angrier. When everyone went home, that’s when i would see the devil in a human body. He yelled at me, calling me a crying bitch, a faggot, a fat idiot. He would even go as far as choke me and disown me. He threw me into the room with all the lights off. Just before slamming that door shut, he threatened to give me a reason to cry if i didn’t stop. That room, that dark room, where i could not see anything, became what is in my chest to this day. My abyss of darkness and sorrow. This was all before i hit the age of ten. I began to have nightmares, causing my body to preform embarrassing acts. I always use to think that i would never speak of those moments. But i have to accept everything that’s happened in my life. I ended up wetting the bed at night, while i was dreaming of my father yelling at me and hurting me. To piss yourself until you’re thirteen can be a lot more embarrassing when you’re the one going through it. You don’t want you’re friends to find out. You’re family crack jokes, of course not meaning anything by it, but still affecting you. It created a form of humility. By than i was already using food as an escape. I became overweight. And that would become another downfall of mine. One to last all the way through high school. But that’s just a bit later on. There’s still so much more along this road of mine. My fathers and my relationship escalated as i grew over the years. I just learned how to fake a smile and laugh so that i can see my friends and my mother happy. They didn’t need to worry about me. Who would listen to a fat loser like me. But even a fat loser like me still found friends. Even a fat loser like me can still fall in love. Every night would be the same. Awkward around my step-father, mom avoiding the fights her son and husband had. The daughter being raised to become the golden child of the family. Whilst i became the black sheep. I’d always leave my t.v. on because the background noise would help me sleep. It would make me feel like i wasn’t alone. I was quiet enough so no one could hear me cry to sleep. Talking to god asking him, ‘Whats wrong with me. Are you there? I need your help. Please?’ yet there was no answer. And my chest began to turn into that dark empty and lonely feeling. As though there was a tiny anchor tied to it pulling it straight into a blackhole. When i would finally fall asleep, i could see and hear him. As though it was real. I created an imaginary friend, to spend those cold nights with me. I called him stitches. Because i didn’t want to hurt alone. So at times, i would talk to myself. And he would become more and more real to me. But knowing who i grew up with in my life, they would all think im crazy. Maybe make fun of me again. As i grew, so did those thoughts. Those thoughts became the words stitches spoke. “You’re fuckin pathetic, You’ll always be your fathers son. youre worthless. You’ll never be anyone, even your mommy doesnt love you. Look! She won’t even protect you against that jerk, And thats because no one wants you. Your friends only hang out with you because their parents told them too. No one will ever like you you fat fuck.” He would even speak to me about the women i would like. How they would just use me. More and more, it grew. It never eased up. I started to become more angry. And it would be taken out on my own family. I did not know what was wrong with me. But as always, i do what i was told. ‘Just shut up and deal with it.’ Or ‘Grow some balls you fuckin pussy!’ After the summer before i attended middle school, was a major turning point in my life.My father talked to my mother about taking a vacation to see our family in mexico. I though, ‘WOW! My daddy wants to spend THAT much time with me?!? Maybe he does love me.’ And as always, i was wrong. I remember it was damn near the same thing, though my mind is still foggy. Some things you just end up blurring out. Because you just need to forget. One night, nothing new, he went to drink in the city. I was worried, i didnt know where he was or what happened. I went everywhere asking my uncle if he knew where my father was. He found him later that night. I saw them walking down the street. My father stumbling. My uncle caring him. He told me father, “George, He’s just worried about you. He’s your son.”“No, i have no son!” You think after hearing that enough you’d get use to it. But something about that moment, felt worse than any other time before. With, tears in my eyes, and stitches screaming in my ear, i ran. My fatass ran. Tears flowing, all of the memories and voices coming back at once. The pain in my chest spread like never before. That anchoring weight getting more and more heavy. The darkness clouding my vision. My body knew when it ran against a hill, but my eyes saw nothing but an endless void. An invisible floor that my feet could touch, but i was going anywhere. Just running in place. I stopped at a canal and broke down. Burying my face into my knees. Punching myself, wanting to scream, eyes shut tightly feeling like they were glued shut. I yelled for someone to come save me. After that...I can’t remember. But if there was anyone i could rely on to make me feel better, it was my best friend Dallas. Now Dallas wasn’t a person or place, she was a beautiful and lovable golden retriever that stayed at my grandmothers. We always considered her MY dog. She was the only one to make me feel like someone else was there. When i would lay down on the cot in the living room, Dal would walk up to me, put her head on my hand, and i would pet her until we both fell asleep. When she was there, it was like the darkness slowly evaporated away showing me a beautifully colored world. She gave me real smiles. If she sensed a threat against me, she would stand in front of me as though she was saying, ‘Try touching him mother fucker.’ I loved her. And for once, i could feel someone loved me. Just thinking about her is bringing tears to my eyes. I’m wanting to burst in tears as i type thinking about my oldest and best friend. When she was just a puppy, and i was just an infant, my mother would visit my grandmother in forest park and she put me in a little play pen with that cute little puppy. That is the oldest memory i have, and luckily the best one. She was my pup Dal. And i was her best friend. She could sense when i hurt, and she would take away the pain. When i came back from mexico with my father, that all changed. My aunt had told me, that my best friend had passed away. I didn’t believe her, yet there i was. Shocked in silence. I cant remember how long it took for me to speak again. When i found out what had happened, and i saw the photos, it all hit me like a goddamn train. And it all came pouring out. My faith in god already questioned, now completely gone. Someone took my best friend away from me. And i could never forgive them. I never saw that beautifully colored world again. And there he was, Stitches, whispering those words to me. Of how god took her, because he hates me. I never thought the darkness could grow more. But it did. When Dallas was taken from me, a huge piece of my humanity was taken with her. A huge chunck of my heart slowly cut of me with a rusty blade. A chunk i could never get back. She will always have my best memories. I miss her. And i always will.I began finding solace in other ways. I started writing, letting my imagination run wild. Trying to think of adventures or a life far better than the one i lived. They were my escape, my plane ticket away from reality. I wrote stories. Stories of WWII, future soldiers, vampires, warewolves, the apocalypse, monsters and demons. Always stories about fighting back. But even writing couldn’t fully help. I still carried that burden, that unknowing feeling that i still couldn’t understand. In middle school, i met some new friends. The ones that would give you the greatest memories of your life. I started doing terrible at school. I slacked off of assignments, didnt do the homework hell i just didn’t give a damn. With no religion, my best friend gone, the darkness growing and fights at home i saw education as nothing to me. That it was more important to laugh and smile and to just be happy. I didn’t think of the toll it would take on my future. My step father and i got worse. My father, nothing changing except the fact that i was getting older. It even began affecting my mother emotionally. I couldnt see that. Because all i could see was anger towards my step-father, envy towards my sister, fear of my father and even neglect from my mother. Though it is not her fault and she does love me. That part i understand so much more. I tried playing a few sports throughout my middle school years. I was never any good. Hell i didnt even like sports. The only reason i did it, was in hopes id have a father to cheer me on at my games. That was the only reason. He never showed up. How, after so many years and moments of terror would i expect my father to finally show me love and acknowledgement? Simply because i was a damn fool with hope. Hope that everything will change. He never did. And i only grew with more conflict. Hitting into high school years, my friends and I became inseparable. We had our own little group of under dogs. It really did seem like a rag tag group or nerds and goofballs. I would skip school to go hang out with them when they were sick, or just didnt want to go. Now they wernt bad kids or bad influences, they were actually really smart. I mean, we had the rocker kid who was the youngest yet the tallest. Than we had the big italian guy who could make anyone laugh in any situation, we had the asian kid who was just full of spunk and did impersonations of his own race. Hell he’d threaten to eat our dogs. Yeah he was that kind of guy. We had the indian kid who loved Anime and focused on his future. The one that hold sleepovers in his big ass home. My cousin, the emo style kid who has the best sense of sarcasm. And than me, just the lovable goofball who always wanted to get everyone together and just have fun.  those are memories that last a lifetime. We wern’t the ones who were all preppy and loved parties and mainstream b.s. We wern’t meant to fit in with everyone else. We were meant to just be us. God the things we got into. Fireworks on the neighbors fences, keeping our parents up at late hours, or even tossing a Molotov into an open abandon piece of land. Freestyles, video games, wrestling you name it we probably did it. But as always, high school are the years that change you and everyone else around you. That was the first time i fell in love as well. I wont get too deep into that. But lets just say, even the closest people can find a way to break your heart. People you thought you could trust. People you never knew would lie to you. I never dated before i mean, who wanted to date the fat kid? Who would like that kid? Well, i found out what had happened, and i lost trust in the closest person to me. None of us thought something like this would happen. Luckily they were the right friends who would be there to comfort me. The friends to see me cry, and comfort me. Was the closest ive felt to not being alone in the longest time. Again, with school just did not give a damn. Not at all. I started to lose my interest in writing, Because after my first heartbreak, i began feeling even lonelier, heavier, angrier to the point where there was literally not a moments peace. I havnt slept right in years and not having a parent to talk to about relationship advice and friends who wernt exactly sure what to do in that situation i found something else. That’s when i smoked my first joint. I remember it too.I was frustrated just walking, ended up walking past one of my friends homes and he knew the recent love breaking situation he offered me a couple hits. That feeling starting behind my eyes, my mind slowly feeling like it was easing, my chest not so empty. Hell even my gut stopped hurting. I bagen to think more clear, and started to forget everything. My mind was swarming with all kinda of hell and memories. It was silent. I could see straight. And i can feel human again. I was alive for the first time in a long time. So every now and than, i would smoke whenever possible. And my pain would go away for that time being. I was able to sleep more. Now when i was sober everything would be there, but it was manageable. I did my best to keep it away from home. Id sneak out of my window at night and walk to my friends house. Than sneak back in later. Hell, i needed the sleep. I needed peace in my life. Although i found a way to begin battling my unknown demon, i still didnt understand why. Smoking weed actually helped. Not financially but something more important. My imagination began moving again. I started to freestyle out my pain and anger. Now i wasn’t talented at rapping thats a guarantee, but my friends saw it was real. The pain, the anger. My only issue was just timing my words with my rhythm. I had another enemy, another addiction besides food. To be honest i cant exactly remember when it started. But that feeling of tobacco smoke going into your body gave this weird little kick in your chest that sent a vibe throughout your body. I’m angry, cigarette. I’m just waking up still really tired, cigarette. I can’t sleep and the thoughts are alive, cigarette. I wish i never picked up that damn habit. Because i became a heavy smoker. And overtime would start affecting my body and health. I didn’t care. We’re all addicted to something that takes the pain away. Even if it was a brief moment. That brief moment could make a huge difference. Like you wouldn’t believe. Only those who even remotely feel the way i do can understand, that it can not be explained. But it’s as though it becomes needed. A necessity. That quiet cancer. In exchange for just one more day with less pain. To make a day tolerable. Just tolerable. Now that was a huge damage into my family’s financial life. My anger towards my step father become a reason to steal from him. I figured, “If you want to put me through this shit, than you’re gonna pay for my habit.” God i hated him. Always thought i was lying up to no good. If you put someone down they will want to give you a reason to think of them in that way that you have pushed onto them. I didn’t think how it would affect my mother. And for that i can never forgive myself. I was too blinded by my own anger. To not see how everything you do affects people around you can either go two ways. One, You need to take a step back and question your motive. Or two, your anger will consume you and leave you completely blind to other possibilities. It consumed me. In the first three years of high school, everybody began changing. Friends started to become acquaintances. Memories become torture of times you would give anything to re live. You become more lonely. Of course the weed helped, but it can’t do everything for you. The pain won’t fully go away. Stitches just a voice in my head. The darkness continuing to grow. The world around me, as dark and empty as ever. The fights at home finally became, a time to leave. And as usual, i decided to give my father another chance. So i moved back towards Berwyn. And with no friends, and no one to talk to. It was just seeing my father drink, my father angry, my fathers fists and a hint into my fathers past. Now we had family members who chose a certain life. And them being there i was finally introduced to them. Only about seventeen or eighteen, and i was drinking heavily and got into a serious addiction for cocaine. Just like the weed, i kept that quiet. It felt like the same day everyday. But i must have stayed for almost half a year or just over. I remember that one night, where i would see nothing but blurs, and my fathers voice echo. Paramedics trying to carry me to the ambulance. My father trying to convince me that if they asked any questions dont tell them ive been drinking or that he knows. I guess his citizenship was abit more important than his sons health. I guess his DUI’s didn’t say enough about it already. When i came to in the hospital bed, i asked the Doctor not to mention the cocaine. And that i was done. I was too close to death. But that wasn’t the first time. My mother came with my sister when they had heard i was in the hospital. One of the main causes of that night was dehydration and a horrible diet. I was prescribed medication and spent the day with my mother for abit. My aunt living in forest park, not too far away thought it would be a good idea to offer abit of sanctuary. She invited me over one night and we relaxed joked around and played video games. It was nice. I think we went for mcdonalds that morning. She told me if anything were to happen again, call her. She is just the next town over. I went back to that place after we ate. It was morning still. Just barely afternoon. There he was, drinking with friends. Didn’t even ask if i was ok. As though nothing ever happened. I was tired but they wouldnt let me sleep. One guy was so drunk out of his, my father literally grabbed him by the loop of his jeans and dragged his ass out of the apartment. Hell i still remember seeing that guys head clunking up hard steps from the basement to the cold outside. He never woke up. How much do you need to drink to not wake up from all of that. I went to lay down on my futon but there was blood, broken wood from underneath, glass and one of my shirts ripped and stained. I guess one of the guys were so drunk they got hurt. Yeah go ahead and destroy all my crap in some drunk guys blood. Whatever. Later that night, my father was still drinking. A roommate of his, Guero, might have just saved my life. Now what im about to say, is nothing new to what has been done over the years. He was so angry, for no reason. He called my mother yelling at her over the phone.“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?! IS HE STUPID?!” Blah blah blah more angry drunk espanol. The ironic part is she didn’t have to do anything. It was him causing the damage. And me letting it take over most of my life. Later, he began yelling at me. Talking about his past as a gang member. For obvious reasons i can’t and refuse to say who. Many will understand why, and no reason for this choice to be justified. He grabbed one of the kitchen blades, ran up to me, grabbed me by my dick and put the blade to my neck. Threatening to kill me, claiming he has no problem doing it. Asking me if i thought i was better than him, more important. And if i wanted to hit him go ahead and fight back. But i wasn’t seventeen, i was seven in that moment. And i froze. But i heard his voice. Stitches whispering in my ear. That this was my chance to end it. So i can sleep. Doesn’t that sound nice? The bad guy finally loses. Kill him when you get the chance. Guero came and pulled the blade away slowly trying to calm down my father. I can still feel his grip on me. When i saw him turn around, That;s when i heard stitches scream at me. Like it was right in my ear. That voice so, dark and sinister with this sort of sadistic joy in his words. KILL HIM NOW! TAKE THE KNIFE, STAB HIM CUT HIS THROAT BREAK HIS FUCKING NECK SHOW THIS MOTHER FUCKER A REAL DEMON!That’s when everything stopped. Thinking how crazy am i? Am i even human anymore? But i want to. I want to stop him so bad. I can do it...why won’t i though? Time stopped. And it felt as though i was questioning everything about myself. With nothing positive. A flash of my life up to that moment. It was unsettling. Disturbing. But when i snapped out of it. I just continued. And as usual, all of the darkness continued to spread. More than i thought possible. Proves me wrong every time. I went back towards my mothers and began working. I learned how to drive, made my own money for abit and decided to spend it on my car and my fun. Not thinking of anything else. Tried to just do me and avoid everything else. Because i was tired of dealing with everything. But as usual, nothing changed at home. I eventually screwed up, lived out of my car, got it repossessed. I move around alot. Town to town, Indiana and back. Still not really caring about myself. Kind of gave up on that. Gave up on myself. Still drank and smoke. One year, i finally moved back to Illinois from Indiana. I met someone. She became my second love. Now this was abit difficult and i am not going to get into it. I remember our first kiss. We were sending cute little text messages to each other, and we are sitting next to each other in the front seat of her car. She texted me, ‘Would it be ok if i kiss you?’ I leaned towards her and kissed her. And it did something i have never felt before. The kiss that took away the pain. Now i did love before, but not like this. This would become my first serious relationship. And my most heartbreaking. Because this was new to me and i still had no idea with what i was dealing with, i couldn’t control my fear of losing the one person who took away all the pain. Goddamn we had alot of adventures and memories between us. Through her i met one of her relatives who would become my brother to this day. We had trust issues with each other and i was a paranoid fool. I drove her away. Not once, but twice. The second time, forced her and i to become different people and to end what felt like my last hope. I left her mothers house because the thought of seeing her with another man would kill me. More than us saying goodbye. I walked around alot, tried to find work and ended up staying with one of my cousins for abit. He was on my fathers side and i rarely ever got to see that side of the family. One day walking around, feeling as though i was disappearing   bit by bit. It all came swarming back in one huge hit. Especially after an argument with my ex. Not to defend myself of course but merely saying this as a way to understand. I just wasn’t myself when we argued. But it was what set me off. I screamed and punched the side of a gas station. I took a knife out of my pocket and put it to my wrist. Coming closer and closer. Someone had saw me punch the gas station and called the police. If it wasnt for them, i doubt i would be here. Surprising myself how many times i could come close to death and still be lucky enough to get past it. I told them, as i broke down in tears that i needed someones help. take the knife out of my pocket and keep it away. The ambulance came and took me away to a nearby hospital in order to to evaluate my state of mind. From the hospital, to a home. A Psychiatrist  would let me tell him some of the crap that when on in my life and how ive felt along the way. This is where he would find out one of my demons for me. He explained how Depression can take a toll on the human mind and body. How one step could trigger or lead to something affecting something we barely have control over. Knowing that, i listened to how it worked and remembered how it would affect me throughout my life. And began to plan how i can fight back. I wasn’t there very long. Was prescribed medication and given a number in case i ever came close to it again. Than i moved again.Closer to my mothers side of the family, i got a job at a hotel for a graveyard shift. Good money, easy job, paid for my studio apartment. As i took the medication i started to feel less and less human. Not guilty or in pain. just completely emotionless. Now you would think that’s what we want. You’re wrong. We want to feel normal like a human being. So like some others, I stayed off of them. And my feelings of being alive came back. But the one thing that didn’t go away, was that darkness. It was contained, but still not fully controlled. It still would eat away at me. I tried to bring in a friend in hopes he could help both of us move forward. But financial issues struck. I lost my apartment, took my friend back to town and lived out of my car so that i could still keep my job. Even in the winter. Feeling sick, tired, heavy and all around hopeless. But still trying to push through it all. Although it slowly built up in side of me, causing me to be trapped inside my own hell and fall asleep in tears, Most of the time, stayed awake and let them dry, I still fight. And i fight hard. But when i moved back to the town where i met my friends and my first two loves, something else happened that would change everything. The Third love.Now i remember hearing somewhere, that you are only allowed three great women in your life. And the third was the silent kill. She worked at the local store by mymothers house. I began working at a small fast food diner just across the street. Everything was going smooth but felt like it was going nowhere. My buddy who lived across the street ask me for advice on how to talk to a woman. So i found out what he meant gave some advice and he managed not to listen as usual. When i met her, yeah i knew she was beautiful. She was foreign. Had an accent, beautiful looks, and an overwhelming generous caring personality.She was the perfect woman for any man. A pure angel, godsend from how you could describe it. She cared about me. Alot. I remember i didnt see her as more than a friend at first. But as usual thats how the best ones start. And when the saying ‘If something is too good to be true it usually is’ is very true. We cared about eachother. And i knew we saw more than other people saw. I started to get feelings. For someone who made me feel like a human. She would want to talk to me over everyone else. I would visit her as often as i could. I say that because, she was already in an arranged marriage. When i heard that, it bothered me. But i knew there was nothing i could do about it. She honors her family's customs. And if she were to go against it, her entire family would cut her off from everything. Which is understandable regardless of what we may think. So i had to silently kill myself, as i let her slip away. I still miss talking to her. And i’ll never forget her. She became the one that got away. An issue happened at my job where multiple were laid off. Including me. Clever managers from other stores. They know how to keep their people with no regards for the ones who have already been there trying to work and keep that place running. I couldn’t find another job in time, and once again had to leave. I tried to stay in that town, but it became too hard. I was hungry, starving and sleeping behind a dumpster eating dunkin donuts to survive. The darkness starting to become overwhelming again. Months later, an old friend from high school offered me some time and an opportunity. Only thing is, i would have to move 1700 miles from my sister and my mother. But realizing i need to start bettering myself, i took it without hesitation. And began our road trip to Arizona. He let me drive with him, and luckily i love driving. So i drove a majority of the way. Listening to music and planning. Two days later we arrive.I saw his mom again who was always like a second mom. A home away from home. With the funniest guy i ever met. We had an agreement, and i did my best to honor it. I found a job in the next town over, unfortunately i did not start in time and had to leave their house as well. A series of unfortunate events right? But i kept my agreement. And didnt want to destroy my friendship with him. Whatever was left of it. I had a few other buddies i believed would be good to get through this part in our lives and to start creating a stable living. Unfortunately, sometimes thats how friendships are destroyed. When youre simply trying to survive. We used what we could, called in what favors we could to get a night or two at a hotel. Sometimes we got lucky enough for a week. But after our falling out, it was just me. Sleeping next to a library, sometimes no sleep still walking almost two hours to my job. Had some financial aid for cold foods. Nothing precooked. More like canned goods, ramen bottled drinks etc etc. Soon, a man i would work with, would show me what true friendship is. Brotherhood, the thing i thought would never exist again in my life. A very understanding man who brought me into his home twice. Who i got along with, and help me get through what i deal with. He knows he may not ever fully understand it, but he has shown that he is here for support. And to get me through it. I remember waking up from a night terror, which rarely happens, and he came shooting out of his room asking if im ok. If i needed some water. A very caring man. One I can safely say once again, is family to me. He even let me finally live my birthday i’ve wanted to. And it was nothing big, just simplicity. Get drunk and stoned beyond all reason. I remember waking up the next day with two new games i bought for myself. I don’t remember buying them the night before. So you can tell i slept good. Of course, nothing ever stays calm. He can see it too. The pain in my eyes. The way i walk as though there is the weight of the world on my shoulders. Either i sleep too much, or not at all. Even the simplest tasks like cleaning dishes, feels like i cleaned half a house. My pleasure in games and writing going away. Staring blankly into space, knowing my mind is swarming in that hell. He does what he can. He helps me bare it. But he can’t do it all of course. I still have to manage it myself. One night when we were both working together, i broke. I asked him to come out back with me. Because i was going to snap. Trying to talk to him, is what made it obvious. I couldn’t speak, i couldn't find a way to explain it. I was in tears, broken and lost. He reassured me, that no matter what happens, i will always have a brother right in front of him. Even if its just to talk and let it all out. So that my building it up wouldn’t destroy me again. So i can feel somewhat human and cared about. Like i matter. Like im good enough. Like the demon, will never win. Shortly after that, he found a better job and took it. About one month after, i had to quit. Managers from other stores were coming in to cover the missing shifts. Of course they either did nothing, or waited too long to where we would get out an hour or so later. I had to start doing a majority of the store. Basically closing it by myself. I am missing half the pay i deserve for all my work. Not to sound conceited about my work ethic, but that can take a toll on someone. That on top of everything else i was dealing with, i became more tired. I couldnt strain myself for 450 dollars every two weeks and than to be talked down to by a manager who hasnt even been there since the store itself opened. The store has been opened for just over a year. I worked there for about nine to ten months.  And i worked hard. Two weeks later, Here i am typing. Waiting for my last check to go through to throw to rent and buy some more time. Still fighting this growing darkness.Yes, my mother, my sister, my grandmother and my aunts all do love me and i know its true. My second love, i know she truly loved me. My brothers then, and my brothers now do love me. But here is the thing. No matter how much love someone can give you, it can never fully fight all of your demons you battle on the inside. This is where it gets brutally honest. Where i’m honest with myself at least, and not afraid anymore to share what is going on. So read what is in my mind, from than to this exact moment as i type. Here goes...I Jorge Contreras, Known by some as Jay, have been through hell that no one can fully see nor understand. This is not for pity, or for help. The reason I share this is to try, and i mean TRY to help others who feel alone in their world of hatred, anger, pain, emptiness, loneliness, regret, fear, terror, torture, confusion, frustration, and overall hell can see they are not alone no matter what they think No matter what they feel. No matter what they see. From childhood to this day, I want to die. I’d rather take my own goddamn life and welcome that sweet sound of silence. To stop it from hurting the people i love most. To stop feeling like nothing, worthless, hopeless, lost, cursed god damn the list goes on. I can still hear him at times as though he is just a whisper. To just jump in front of the train across the street. To feel like no matter who i catch feelings for, no matter who i fall for i will never be good enough for them. No matter how hard i try it will be for nothing and that i will have to suffer whatever is left of my pitiful life. I see myself in the mirror, and all i can think about is how ugly i am. How no one will ever love me me. How everyone will always leave me. How this abyss will continue to grow. I will keep falling forever. Stitches laughing at me. My father screaming at me. My step father putting me down. My relatives thinking it is just for attention or its just all in my head. Well they are half right. It is in my head. But not my choice. If this was really something by choice, i would have turned it off at age seven. I would have been happier, i would have an early heads up on my war i could have done so much more if it was really just all in my head. If i would have screamed for help alot sooner than maybe things would be different. But it is too late now. This is who i am. A survivor with no inspiration. A fighter, with a broken body. A human with no soul. A lost man, with no guidance. A faithful man, with no god. A smile, thats not real. And hope, with no belief of making it through. A person who is a nobody. At this very moment, i want to sleep forever. So it can all stop. There are many events similar to those that i have told you, and some darker. But as i have said before. Somethings you just need to forget. And for good reason. And all i want to do, is try and make it through. To go back to where i can sit and write instead of worry about everything around me. So that when those who read this and understand, can finally feel like someone else is in that darkness with them. My hands hurt. My back aches. My stomach feels like its eating itself. My knees feeling like they are going to pop out of their sockets. My body tired, my mind exhausted and even better my emotions twisted. Stitches whispering in my ear that no one will read this and no one will care. Might as well just slit my fuckin wrists now. I’m using my own pain inside and out as motivation to type this all out. Without letting it all get to me. Off the top of my head, including suicide attempts, i believe ive cheated death at least eight to ten times. Like i said, sometimes we just keep quiet. We let ourselves burn. We don’t try to leave to hurt the people around us. We give up, because we are the ones who need to stop hurting. I can recall many dark moments in my life. More dark than happy. Because this mind is hellbent on winning. This demon is devoted to his job. To take this soul of this planet. To send it straight to hell. Even though i have lost my faith in god, this is what real demons are. And hell, is what we go through day in and day out. You would think, the lucky ones are still alive. In our case, the lucky ones are the ones who are sleeping and got away from all the pain. I can give all of you deeper detailing into what it is i go through. Or even more events in my life to make people relate to the situations that could completely destroy us and send us into that abyss. I want to scream, and shout and just go on the most furious rampage. To let the world see my demons that are inside of my heart. Like im declaring war on the world and blaming everyone and everything around me for what has happened. But i cant. Because than they win. All i know is, maybe this story can help others out if it gets to them in time. Before they are consumed like myself. Be careful, because some of the people you think are the happiest people you have ever met, are really just good actors about it all. Don’t judge someones road that you have never even come close to walking on. Our eyes see different things than what yours might. Now its time for me to gather the courage to publish this short story, and go look for a god damn cigarette. If you know someone who is in pain or may seem like they are in a dark place, don’t give up on them. Seek help, and try and remind people what love truly is for another human being. We need it so much more than you think. With much love,                                             -The Bastard Jorge Contreras

#Depression #loneliness #confused #lost #alone #relatable #family #friends #a mile in my shoes