#she had been terrified of losing her mom for good for years so even though she could tell her mom was getting old and was able to talk to
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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly.
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color.
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless.
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating.
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate.
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever.
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy.
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents.
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it.
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence.
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door.
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out.
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once.
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words.
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left.
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze.
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo.
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.”
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles.
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen.
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders.
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that.
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet.
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day.
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security.
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction.
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage.
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office.
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time.
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives.
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed.
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises.
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye.
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest.
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die.
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it.
He won’t let anyone take it from him.
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary.
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat.
Bruce reaches a hand out.
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him.
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away.
The orb in his hand moves.
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark.
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it.
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap.
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid.
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot.
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face.
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke.
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises.
If anyone can, it’s Batman.
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends.
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#prompt fill#my writing#i dont really know much abt jld so they are not really in here#just duke trying to live his life and have a nice day with bruce#when his soul mate gets thrown at him in the form of an ORB#(ghost core but they dont know that yet)#dannys gonna have to answer so many questions once hes awake bc not many know abt realms beings#its gonna be rough for him bc he's been asleep for 2 years in his core bc he was never safe enough to recover#until duke gave him a boost (plus the power of soulmates really helped him) and he woke up#in a cave with his soulmate and a whole crew of superheroes#what a thing to open ur eyes to. rip danny lol#thanks for the prompt!
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Finally found |prt 2
Prt2 Of lost and found| ♫ shades of cool by Lana DelRey
Joel miller x fem reader
Prt 1 here>>
Word count: 3k
Summary: after seeing the love of your life again you deal with the challenge that is telling him he has a daughter.
Warnings: lots of Angst, cursing, mentions of suicide, smut, unprotected sex, probably some other stuff…
Author note: this is part two, to a three to four-part series I don’t know for sure yet how many I'll write. The next part will be getting into Ellie's relationship with Rae and how she feels about the whole thing, I wrote this part to (shades of cool by Lana Del Rey ) anyways enjoy🌞
Rae walks out of the room, slamming it behind her and leaving Tommy. Walking into the living room, Rae’s eyes land on you and Joel, your lips still on his. Rae stands there for a second, her face scrunched up in disgust. “I can’t right now,” Rae says, shaking her head in disapproval before walking towards the exit. Making her presence known, “Rae-“ you say, watching Rae leave through the front door, the screen closing hard behind her. “ I need to talk to her” you sigh out, looking back at Joel with sad eyes. “ Yeah, go,” Joel says, a part of him not wanting you to leave. You slowly walk towards the door, stopping once you get there.
“Don’t go anywhere please” you say, your voice almost a whisper, the feeling of years off without him bubbling in your stomach. “I’m not moving,” Joel says, his eyes not leaving yours. “Good” You nod before walking out the door, leaving Joel with his thoughts. One of them being, if it wasn't him who was the father of your Daughter, then who was and what was the possibility you were still with him? Tommy slowly walks out of the room, interrupting Joel’s thoughts.
Joel stares him down, intensely before speaking “We need to talk” he says, his voice low and angry. The back door of the old house opens and August walks into the living not looking up, talking fast. “I just spoke to Robin, your mom passed out? W-”August finally looks up, his eyes landing on Joel and Tommy in the living room. “ What The fuck?”
~~~
You follow Rae’s tracks in the snow to a nearby bench, She doesn’t say anything as you approach, keeping her eyes forward staring Into the distance. “Rae?” You say hoping for a response, there isn’t one, she says nothing, continuing to look forward. You don’t say anything else, silently sitting next to Rae on the bench. You two sit in silence for a while before you decide to talk, you begin fidgeting with your hands looking for what to say.
.
” When you were born the first thing I thought was “wow she's so beautiful”…and the second thing I thought was how am I going to do this alone. I wasn't alone though, your aunt was there, She got me through the first half of your life without Joel, but when…” you take a deep breath before continuing.
“ But when she died, I think I started getting confused… It felt like I was losing them at the same time, even though he had been gone years before, after that, I felt like had to focus on The past to stay sane….you know?” Rae’s eyes begin to blur as tears fill her eyes, but she doesn't look at you keeping her eyes on the snow in front of her. “ I'm sorry, baby, you have every right to be mad at me,” you say, watching Rae’s leg lightly, bouncing up and down, something she often did when she was stressed or upset. She still doesn't say anything. “Rae talk to me please,” you say, getting a bit closer, your eyes starting to well up with tears.
“That's the thing, I'm not even mad at you, I'm upset with him… I know I shouldn’t be mad at him, I know that…it doesn’t make sense for me to be, he didn’t even know, it’s just-“ Rae takes in a big deep breath“ I’ve seen you cry over him for Days and Days on end…and I think after a while it just became easier to blame him for your pain so didn’t have to acknowledge mine” you nod and wipe away your tears.” not just that, mom I'm scared, fuck I'm terrified…” she says taking in another deep breath of cold winter air before continuing “I'm scared he won't like me or even give a fuck that I'm his…12-year-old me would dream every day for a miracle like this. After all, you told me about him, I always wished I could have met him but Now he’s here… It feels more like a burden than a miracle”.
Her words linger in the air for a second, making your heart hurt. You understood what she was saying, but it was hard thinking about the fact she might never see him the way you see him.“ did you speak to him while I was passed out?” you ask, Rae shakes her head. “So he doesn't know?” you ask, your face scrunching up slightly in sadness. “Nope,” Rae says, letting out a dry laugh. “ I think I'll leave that to you,” Rae says, giving her thighs a slap before standing up from the bench to walk away. You stand up following her, You can see that she's hiding her emotions trying to seem ok when she's not. “Rae, look at me,” you say, walking in front of her, her eyes don't meet yours. “I'm sorry, you deserve so much better than this, but I promise you if he could have been there he would have…” you say, placing your arms on her shoulders, rubbing up and down to trying to comfort her
Rae lets out a sigh she didn't know she was holding in, finally letting herself cry, you pull her into a hug. “That's why it hurts so bad,” Rae says, her cries muffled in your shoulder. “ We lost so much time, this whole time I could have had a- ” Rae chokes up, pushing back from the embrace, whipping away her tears with the back of her hand. “I'm ok” she says trying to gather herself, You couldn’t tell if she was telling you or herself. Once she's finished wiping her tears, you bring her back into an embrace kiss her on her forehead .“it’s ok not to be ok baby, everything will be ok I swear” you say looking into her eyes, she gives you a weak smile in return “you should go talk to him,” Rae whispers, gesturing to the director of the old house. You nod and watch as she walks away In the opposite direction. “And when you’re done, tell him I’m ready to talk whenever he is” Rae says her back still facing you as she walks in the direction of August’s house
~~~
You enter the house, and it’s dead silent, not a person in sight. Your heart starts beating fast involuntarily, “Joel!” You call out as you walk further into the house. No answer “JOEL, JOEL” suddenly your breath becomes short, and you feel dizzy like you're going to fall over. Unexpectedly, a hand comes up and grips your shoulder. “ I’m right here, I’m right here y/n,” Joel says, reassuring you, you take a deep breath, your eyes locking on his. You move out of his grasp, slightly embarrassed.
“Sorry, I don't know what that was,” you say, trying to shake off the anxiety your body was still feeling. “ You get dizzy every often like you can't stand up straight, heart beats real fast, and you can't breathe?” you nod “yeah,” you say, your voice almost a whisper. “ I Get them too” his words make you feel less alone. You give him a light smile and he looks like he's about to say something else, but is interrupted by the loud slam of a truck door followed by the sound of an engine starting.
“Stay right here, I'll be back,” Joel says before leaving you to go out the front door, his footsteps loud and heavy like he was upset. You see August in the corner of the room, he gives you a little wave and an awkward tight-lipped smile when your eyes meet his. Walking towards you, he speaks, “good to see you're alive Ms. Y/l/n, I heard you fainted in the dining hall…shit I would too” he says, placing his hand on your shoulder. You nod “yeah I’m ok now” August nods “good, good… that's good to hear, you want to talk about …what’s going on with that,” he says, his head gesturing to the direction Joel just went. You turn around and see Joel standing by Tommy's car, through the window. They look like they were arguing “long story…to long” you say tiredly.
“ I think I gathered a bit of it, You just missed the yelling contest in here a couple of minutes ago,” August says, looking out the window with you. “And you just stayed and watched?” You ask raising an eyebrow,August shrugs “there wasn't much I could do. I thought about walking out in the beginning but that would be a bit embarrassing.” you sigh “probably…August can you do me a favor,” you ask cutting yourself off, he nods “yeah sure,” he says putting his hands in his pockets probably try to keep warm because of how cold the room was. “Can you tell Rae I said she can sleep over at your house tonight if she wants I know she needs a friend right now and I think she’s already over there with your mom” you say, going over to sit on the old couch. “Ok I’ll tell her, I'm headed over there right now anyway,” August says, walking towards the door, but he stops before walking out. “I really do hope all this shit gets resolved for you and Rae,” he says with a little frown before walking out of the house.
“Me too…me too” you mumble to yourself, wiping your face with your hands and letting out a long sigh. After a few minutes of sitting on the couch, you doze off. You dream of the same thing you have dreamed of off on and on for the last 20 years, usually, in the dream, you're outside. With Joel, Sarah, and Rae. it's always Rae as a toddler though. You guys are having a picnic with the old blanket you and Joel used to use on dates. The sun is always just about to set, and the girls are playing together. Then like clockwork Joel looks at you and smiles, then just as he leans forward to kiss you the ground separates into two.
Splitting you up, you and are Rae on one side and Joel and Sarah on the other. But this time, you're woken up by Joel before the ground can separate. Your eyes flutter open to see Joel staring at you with an unreadable expression. His hand slowly comes up to wipe a tear you didn't even know was on your face. You feel at home with his hands on your face, not saying anything, Joel just leaves it there savoring the feeling of your skin against yours. “You were having a nightmare,” Joel says finally moving his hand away from your face. “How long was I asleep?” you ask sitting up and looking around the dimly lit room, the little bit of sunlight outside lighting it “an hour,” Joel says sitting on the couch. “An hour why did you let me sleep that long?,” you ask shocked “ you looked like you needed it,” Joel says nonchalantly.
~~~~
You offer to talk to Joel somewhere less dust-ridden, and you two get into your car and make the drive to your house. Though the car ride was short, it was still awkward and quiet, you wonder how it could be this so awkward around someone you surrounded your whole life around. You open your house door, placing your keys on the table next to the door. You take off your shoes before walking to the kitchen and opening the cabinets. Joel dose the same walking slowly through the entrance of the house, looking at the framed picture on the walls.
“Do want some tea?” you ask, looking through the cabinets. “Yeah,” Joel replies, pulling out a chair and sitting at the table in the kitchen. You pull two mugs from the cabinet, placing them on the counter before opening up another cabinet to get the tea bags. “How long have you lived here,” Joel asks watching you struggle to reach for the box of tea. He wants to help but fears overstepping “uuhhh,” you say, attempting to think while trying to reach the tea bags, you do flicking them down with your finger, making them fall onto the counter.
“Me and Rae have been here since the beginning, Rae is my daughter by the way” you say look back at him for a second. “yeah I met her, she had spunk…reminds me of someone I know” Joel says his mind drifting to Ellie for a second. “spunk is definitely a word for it…” you mumble under your breath. “as I was saying met Maria a little while before she and her dad found this place, I was one of the people that helped them build Jackson into what it is now,” you say, placing the tea bags in the mugs. “ Tommy told me about the council, you, apart from that?” Joel asks as you fill-up the kettle with water.” No, it’s not my thing. I tried it for a while, too much responsibility, I rather just sleep in” you laugh, putting the kettle on the stove. “Can you hand me a match, there should be some in that drawer”
You say, pointing to the drawer. As you do, Joel catches a glimpse of a ring on your finger, his thoughts running a mile a minute. Joel stands up, opens the drawer, and gets out a box of matches. He slowly walks toward you, handing you the box
“I have a question, and you can shut me down if I'm prying,” Joel says, his hand lingering on the box. The questions suddenly make you aware of how close you to are. It seems like Joel notices too because he takes a step back , giving you some room. “Yeah, go ahead,” you say, taking the matchbox and turning your back on Joel, so you're facing the stove.
Joel stays silent for a minute as you strike the match against the box, lighting it. “Where's your husband?” Joel asked, finally ripping the Band-Aid off, “My husband?” you say, your face scrunching confused as you place the lit match near the gas. “ I saw your ring,” Joel say, his voice unreadable. You laugh to yourself before turning around to face him, “this ring?” you ask putting down the used match and showing him your hand. Joel nods and your face falls . “You don't recognize it?” you ask. Joel scrunches up, confused for a second before the realization hits him.
“That's mine?,” Joel says, visually shocked, “May I?” Joel asks, gesturing to your hand, you nod, leaning your hand forward, so he could inspect your ring. His hands grasp yours as he examines the years of wear and tear on the ring. Your heart beats fast in your chest and your stomach fills with butterflies at the touch of his hands again, “this is the engagement ring I bought for you twenty years ago ?” Joel asks again, still in shock at how long you had it. His finger now lightly grazing over your knuckles. His hands hot on yours cause electricity to shoot through you. You only nod your head, afraid that if you spoke, your words might come out like a squeak rather than a sentence. “And you never remarried-” Joel shakes his head, realizing his mistake
“I mean have you ever married,” Joel asks, looking up from the ring and down at you, his eyes penetrating your soul, this question being the most important to him. Suddenly, the surrounding air two feels so thick you think like you might choke on it. “ No I never married…you?” You ask trying to sound as nonchalant as possible while turning your back on Joel. While also trying to get away from the heaviness of theair. “No” he replies as You open another cabinet to get the cookies you often eat with tea. Joel stays silent, watching you struggle to reach the tin, this Time he walks up behind you, grabbing it from the shelf.
“Your uhh…” he trails off, not wanting to finish, “ Rae’s dad is he ok with you wearing another man’s ring?” He asks, his breath grazing the back or neck, You freeze at the feeling of him behind you, his chest briefly making contact with your back. “Joel, we're adults, you can ask me if I'm seeing anyone,” you laugh trying to avoid answering while still looking inside the cabinet, “are you?” Joel says, his breath hitting you again. making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. It seemed like he lingered there a second longer than appropriate, and he did, enjoying the warmth that raided off your body as he stood there. He couldn’t help but imagine wrapping his arms around your waist and leaving kisses in the crook of your neck, taking in the scent of you like he used to. “Thank you,” you say when Joel finally moves back and hands you the tin.
Joel moves farther back, watching as you open the tin and put a couple of cookies on a plate before putting the tin on a lower shelf in the cabinet. You tried very hard not to shake as he watched you, the adrenaline pumping through you making you shake like a school girl with a crush.”I have another personal question” Joel says, leaning against the sink, and letting himself relax a little. “ Go ahead,” you say as The tea kettle whistles letting you know it’s finished, you walk over and turn off the stove. Before grabbing the kettle, pouring the hot water into the two mugs from earlier. “Who’s Rae’s father”
His words make you stop completely in your tracks, yet again the loud beating in your chest louder than everything else. You stay silent and continue to pour the water into the other mug. You put the kettle back on the stove and turn to face Joel on the other side of the kitchen. You still don’t say anything, rubbing your hands together trying to stop your hands from shaking. “Can you please put the cups on the table for me?” You ask, Joel's was slightly confused, but doesn’t say anything, just taking the mugs off the counter and placing them on the table. When he’s finished, he sits down at the table. You wait a second before doing the same. The longer you took to answer the more Joel’s mind made up possibilities he thought, yes Rae looked a little similar to him, but maybe that’s because she’s Tommy’s, he did have a thing for you back in the day or maybe your we're taking so long to answer because Rae was a product of Assault, or perhaps she was just his.
You take a slow sip of your tea before you answer, not caring that it scorched your tongue. Once you finished, you slowly put the mug down, “she’s yours” you say, finally ripping off the band-Aid. Joel doesn’t say anything, just slightly leans back in his chair, creating a creaking noise, his face unreadable. You two sit in silence, every sound in the quiet house suddenly amplified. “I thought so,” Joel says, leaning forward and taking a sip of the tea in front of him. “That's it,” you ask, a little underwhelmed with his reaction.
“No, I consider the other possibility but y/n…she looks just like us,” Joel says, a hint of sadness and amusement in his voice. “When was she born,” he asks, putting down the mug. “ May 28th, 2004” you reply, searching his face for some emotion fear,
Anger, sadness, Anything. “ I tracked the dates after the outbreak, so I wouldn't get her birthday wrong,” you say, getting up from the table and walking to the living room, going to get something before coming back with a small diary. You open it up, flipping past the previous diary entries from each day of your pregnancy. You land on the last page of the book and Hand it to him to read. It read:
“ May 28th,2004 is her birthday,
Nia was right, she’s a girl, a beautiful girl at that. I wish her daddy could see her, Nia was there throughout the whole thing, helping me through the pain. I thought I knew pain, but I didn't. I've never felt any pain in my entire life that's comparable to that. Even after all that, I named her Rae, like Rae of sunshine. I felt like I did good for the first ten minutes after her birth until I started crying. Nia had to take her from me after a while because I kept sobbing, which made her cry. I think I was scaring her, I was just so overwhelmed, I kept wishing Joel was there. That he could see her, that he and Sarah could take turns holding her and make jokes about her button nose. They would love her, I know it, I'll just have to settle with telling her all about them. I'm scared, really, really scared of this world, of what Rae will have to live like. I just want her to be safe, I have to protect her with my life.”
Joel finishes reading, his eyes slightly glossy, he takes a minute before speaking. “What happened to Nia?” Joel asks hesitantly, you let out a sigh and he knows the answer. He nods his head sadly in acceptance, sitting back in the chair. Joel wasn't super close to Nia but they got along great when you all would go out. He respected her for being the older sibling who stepped into the parent role, she reminded him a bit of himself “she got bit about four years ago while we were out on a hunt, she didn't even tell anyone she just… When we got home, she was just real quiet you know… I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t do anything and in the morning I found a note”. you say, your words hanging in for a while before you realize you're crying and quickly wipe the tears from under your eyes. “Do you want to see more?” you ask gesturing to the diary, hoping to change the subject. “Yes” Joel nods, his face still unreadable,
“one second,” you say, standing up from the table and walking towards the old closet in the living room. You rummage for a second, looking for the photo album you created throughout Rae’s life. Joel walks over and watches you by the entrance,”got it” you say, turning around and holding the album. You sit on the couch, placing the album on the coffee table and Joel comes over, sitting next to you but far enough that your thighs aren't touching. You notice but don't say anything, opening the Album, you flip to one of the first pictures you ever took of Rae.
It's a picture of you and her as a newborn on the couch, you had your hair back in a bun you looked tired. Rae was tiny in your arms at only a week old, She was wrapped up in an old pink blanket. “She was only a week old here,” you say, pointing to the polaroid, you didn't say it out loud, but you realize how young you looked in the picture and wonder if Joel even found you attractive now. ”I remember this day clearly because I was so tired…she wouldn't stop crying, I think she cried the whole week straight,” you say laughing to yourself, Joel doesn’t say anything. His hand came up to slowly trace over her tiny face in the picture with his finger. “She looks like you,” Joel says, eyes still stuck on the picture. “ I think so… Nia always thought she looked more like you,” you say, giving him a brief glance, hoping you weren't pushing the envelope. “When she got older, she started to look more like you…” you say, flipping through the book looking for older picture of Rae. “Here, she's Two in this one because I broke my camera, it was hard finding another camera and film, but when I did all I did was take pictures”
A ghost of a smile creeps on Joel's face as he looks down at the picture of Rae. Her curly hair was going in every direction, and she had a cup in her mouth that she was chewing on. “Look at her dimples…just like yours, one’s deeper than the other though, but you can see them both when she smiles”
You and Joel both go through the photo album full of Polaroids from Rae’s childhood. You know it hurt him looking at all the memories he missed, but he also liked getting to know Rae through your memories together. You and Joel were flipping through photos looking for a certain picture and catch gimps of Sarah's face before you land on another picture of Rae. You saw it, so you know he saw it too, you don't say anything for a while, you both sit in silence. “Do you want to talk about it?” you say, closing the photo album. Joel stays silent so you keep talking
“When Tommy told me you were alive I just assumed…she was too, he told me some of what happened but-” Joel cut you off “- how about you tell me what happened to you that night and I'll fill in the gaps.” you nod standing up “ok sure… do you want a beer,” you ask walking to the fridge. “Yeah-how the hell did you-” Joel's cut off by your shh’s as you put your finger to your lip. “ I have connections,” you laugh walking back over to Joel with two beers and a bottle opener. You open your beer with the opener before handing it to Joel and sitting back on the couch. You take a swig and let out a long breath before talking,
”that night I got a call from Sarah. She sounded really scared, she was asking me where you were, and I didn't know, so I told her I would come over until you came back… But when I got there, you weren't there. I remember calling you and leaving a message, but I don't think you got it b-” Joel cuts you off “I got it” Joel says, not telling you about how he listened to that voicemail over and over for five years straight until the phone inevitably broke. “Well when I called you and I didn't get an answer, so I drove over there, but nobody was there… When I went to your room searching for you, I got a call from you while I was looking out your window. You know how your window was set up, you could see the whole town… I could see a plane flying dangerously low over the plaza, and then you told me you were driving out of the plaza, it was like before I could even blink, the line went Dead, and I was watching the plane crash.
I stayed in your house for two days after that before I got a tip from Nia about the Army coming door to door, I gathered all the stuff I could and met with Nia a little off the highway, that's how I got the pictures of you and Sarah” Joel lets out a frustrated sigh wiping his face with his hands. “That night I had to bail Tommy out of jail, there were infected damn near running the place, helicopters, police were on every block. I sped home to get Sarah… She asked me to stay and wait because you said you were coming…. But I-I didn't want to risk it so-” you cut him off “It's ok Joel, it’s ok, I understand”.
You say your hand coming out to rub up and down his shoulder to comfort him. “I called you when we got to the plaza to tell you where to meet us, but then the plane crashed, causing the car to crash… Sarah's ankle got hurt during the crash, I carried her…” Joel takes a swig of his beer before continuing. “ We ran into an army patrol guard, and he shot at us…I didn't even realize she was hit…” you continue Rubbing up and down Joel's shoulder trying to comfort him as quiet tears fell from both of your eyes, “I came back for you…” Joel says, looking at you with glossy eyes. “Two days after, I also heard about the same swats coming to people's homes… I had to see” you shake your head, tears beginning to well in your eyes again “Joel don't tell me that…” you sigh taking another swig ”when did you come, in the morning, night , afternoon?” you ask, your face scrunching up in sadness “just before sunset….” Joel says his face reflects your own.
“ Oh God,” you say, rubbing your forehead stressed before taking a long swig of your drink. “You just missed me, by an hour....” you say letting out a dry laugh, digging in the back of your pocket for a cigarette.”if god dose exist he’s a comedian” You say opening the drawer connected to the coffee table and take out a small box of matches. You strike the match against the box lighting it, you lite the cigarette and shake the match putting out the little flame before throwing it in a nearby ashtray. Joel doesn’t say anything, just watching your actions, you take a long pull of the cigarette and Joel finally speaks. “ since when do You smoke?” Joel asks watching you blow out smoke, the sight making him feel something deep down “since last month” you say slightly coughing. “You shouldn't, that shit can kill you” Joel says watching as you take another pull, “ really?” you laugh sarcastically blowing out the cigarette smoke. You gesture the cigarette in Joel's direction raising your eyebrows, Joel sighs and accepts. You smile watching him take a puff, his lip in the same place your lips just were. You shake your head before speaking “ Cigarettes don't suit you,” you say slowly plucking the cigarette for his lips and putting it between yours. Joel watches your movements intensely, his eyes glazing over with lust.
You blow out a cloud of smoke and Before you could react, Joels lips were on yours, and he was pulling you into his lap. He plucks the cigarette out your fingers, quickly, putting it out on the table not breaking the kiss. The kisses are hot and desperate “God I've missed you” he says, breaking the kiss for a second to work at the buttons of your shirt. “ I missed you- I missed this” you laugh as joel rips the rest of your flannel open, making the buttons fall to the floor. He didn’t take your shirt All the way off, leaving it open exposing your breast. He left kisses up your bare chest to your neck, making you shudder under him. “ Fucking beautiful” he whispers in the crook of your neck. He finally pulls back for a moment to fumble with his bet and you sit up for a second giving him space. He eagerly throws his bet to the ground along with his pant that he pushed down. You reseat yourself on Joel's lap and he looks up at you with a smile.
“ fair warning I'm not the young man I used to be,” Joel says, his lips returning to your neck. “I can't tell” you laugh, gesturing to the very hard dick under you. “ I’m not the young woman I used to be either,” you say, your words come out as a moan as Joel’s mouth works around your nipple. “No, you’re better,” he says smiling against your skin. “So fucking beautiful” he whispers, cupping your other Breast. You grind your self on Joel’s groin, and he knows what you want. “ I need to be inside you,” he says pulling down his boxers just enough to free himself, you look down your eyes watering at the size he somehow looked bigger than you remember. He pumps himself a couple of times before spitting on his hand and rubbing it over his head, the sight making you clench around nothing.
“Sit,” Joel says, his voice low a sultry, you obey using your hand and lining yourself up with his dick. You slide down onto him, his size stretching you after so long. “Fuckkkk” Joel groans, you both let out a loud moan at the contact. Your forehead leaning against one another as you try to control your rugged breath, “you hug me so well” he whispers in your ear before starting to create a pace. You grip at his shoulders hard, the sensation already becoming hard to bear. “Joel, I can't take it” you moan as he tightens his arm around your waist so he has had a better angle. “You can take me baby, you’ve done it plenty before” he groans, still thrusting into not letting his hips falter. “Take it” he groans in his groggy country accent, almost enough to make you cum there. Joel's hands slide down between you two, so he can rub your clit, you moan at the contact, your core squeezing around Joel. “Fuck sweetheart just like that,” he says watching you throw your head back in pleasure as you ride him on the couch.
The moans leaving the two were straight-up pornographic, you prayed you locked the front door, so no neighbor would walk in on you riding Joel on the living room couch, it was desperate, sweaty, and lazy but that's what made it so hot. “ I think I'm gonna cum” you moan, the familiar butterfly feeling bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. “ Cum on my dick baby” Joel whispers in your ear as you ride him. “ JOEL, JOEL, JOELLLL” you scream collapsing on top of him, the orgasm making your legs give in. He quickly picks you up by your waist moving you off his dick, so he doesn't cum inside you. He cums all over your inner
thighs, letting out a stream of moans and groans. “Jesus… Y/n you just tried to kill me” he pants out, you smile, leaving a kiss by his ear. “ Never” after all of that Joel re-enters you partially soft “let me stay in here while I charge up” you laugh at his corniness lightly pushing his chest. “ Joel c’mon It's late, I think we better call it a night” Joel's face scrunches up confused. “Y/n I hope you don't really think we're sleeping tonight…we got time to make up for”
~~~~
That night you had that same dream you normally do the one where you and Joel are having a picnic and the grown splits, but this time the ground doesn’t split and after twenty years you finally kiss Joel
The morning came and you and Joel stirred in bed, the sun flooding in from the windows. Somehow you two made it into the bedroom last night. Your naked limbs entangled with each other’s under their sheets. Joel stroked your hair as you slept on his chest, every once in a while wrapping a curl around his finger. His hand comes down to trace the outline of your face and your eyes flutter open at the sensation. You look up at him and smile he does the same “good morning” you say resting your chin on his chest so you have a better view of his face.
“Did I tell you I love you last night?” Joel asks moving a curl out your face, “once or twice” you say sarcastically, remembering how at one point he said it before every thrust. “Well I love you,” he says leaving a kiss on your forehead, his country accent making his words sound so much cuter, “I love you too Joel,” you say turning around, so your head was still on his chest, but you were facing the ceiling. You put your ring up to the sunlight coming in through the window and enjoy the colorful reflection of the light.
Joel's hand comes up to intertwine with yours. “I like how that looks in your finger” jJoel says playing with the engagement ring around your finger. “You do?” You smile trying to look back at him without moving.
“Mmhm” Joel hums enjoying the feeling of your hand on his. “That’s why I’m gonna make it official”
“What!”you ask shocked, quickly turning your head to face him “ you heard me” Joel says smiling
~~~~~~
Taglist ~
@kik51199
@yyiikes
@cloudroomblog
@imonmykneessir
@jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
@stupidthoughtsinwriting
#black reader#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x black reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller x fem black reader#joel miller#joel the last of us#joel miller x black reader#the last of us#joel#joel x y/n#joel x#the last of us x reader#joel miller angst#angst the last of us
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Thinking about Spankoffski-Cross family headcanons again, the implications of Wilbur being 10 years younger than Annie and only 9 years older than Ted, and the story behind the 'Uncle Wiley' character...
(It's gonna be sad I'm sorry)
*
In 1992, 17-year-old Wilbur Cross graduates high school early with a place on a college physics course. It doesn't start until September, but he seizes the opportunity to escape his parents as soon as possible.
That summer, Wilbur moves in with his sister Annie and her family in Hatchetfield, and agrees to help out by babysitting his 8-year-old nephew Teddy. He even brings a bunch of his old superhero comics in the hope of winning the kid's approval.
Teddy knows he has an uncle - his mom sometimes mentions her brother (she always calls him Wiley), but he's never met or spoken to him before. His grandparents down in Georgia, who he's also never met, made sure of that. He's always assumed his uncle must be a grown-up like his parents, so he's surprised when 'Uncle Wiley' turns out to be a teenager.
Naturally, the first thing Teddy asks Wilbur when he meets him is: 'Why aren't you old?'
Wilbur is slightly terrified by the prospect of looking after an 8-year-old. But after a few months helping Teddy learn how to ride a bike and listening to his nephew ramble about random kid nonsense (he ends up learning a lot about Transformers that summer) he decides it isn't so bad.
Getting to spend time with his sister and her husband isn't too bad either. Annie teaches him how to make chilli so he won't starve at college, and Ed tries to convince him to cut his hair (he doesn't).
As the summer goes on, the 'why aren't you old?' thing turns into an in-joke between Wilbur and Teddy - each adding more to the Uncle Wiley character until he becomes a pipe-smoking sailor with a beard and a silly voice (since Teddy loves doing impressions so much). Before Wilbur leaves, Teddy draws him a picture of Uncle Wiley. It's far from a work of art, but it ends up on the wall in Wilbur's room at college - much to the amusement of his roommate.
*
Thirteen years later, Ted Spankoffski is halfway through his own college course, depressed and disillusioned after losing Jenny to Andy Kilgore. He's hungover (or maybe still half-drunk) on a Saturday morning when his mom calls, almost in tears, to tell him his uncle has been declared missing in action.
That sobers him up pretty quickly.
The last time he saw his uncle alive was at Pete's christening. Wilbur asked how his first year of college was going, and seemed genuinely interested, though he was surprised Teddy chose to study IT and not theatre. They joked about the old sailor character and the impressions Teddy used to do.
(Ted never learned exactly what Wilbur did for a living, something to do with science and the military, but he was always vague about the details.)
The drawing - paper now yellowed and crumpled at the edges - returns to the Spankoffskis (along with a box of old science fiction novels and a few other things of Wilbur's that John felt ought to be sent back to his family). Ted keeps it. Sometimes, when he's not sure how to be a good big brother to Pete, he takes it out and thinks about that summer in 1992, and the teenage uncle who helped him finally learn how to ride a bike.
*
In 2019, the homeless man who currently sleeps outside Hatchetfield Mall starts to notice posters going up for some new children's toy. At first it's not the toy that interests him, but the mascot character holding it - and the toy company's name.
It's strange. He's sure he had an Uncle Wiley once - his uncle might even have been a sailor, like the one on the posters, with a pipe and a beard and a funny voice...
The homeless man decides he's going to buy one of the Wiggly dolls. It will make Petey happy. It will prove he's a good big brother, despite the mess his life and mind have become. And if it really is his Uncle Wiley selling the toys, then he should support a family business, shouldn't he? His dad always used to say the Spankoffskis were entrepreneurs.
He might even get a discount. That would be nice.
With a determined smile, the homeless man counts up all the money he has to his name, tucks it into his pocket, and joins the queue outside Toyzone on Black Friday.
#cw grief#cw family loss#hatchetfield#hatchetverse#starkid#ted spankoffski#uncle wiley#wilbur cross#hatchetfield headcanons#black friday starkid
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Donna Beneviento/Fem!Reader
Summary: your her soulmate
Warnings: none
WC: 2.9k
Authors note: to the anon who requested a Donna/reader I hope you like it :)
You had been running for quite some time now. Having to avoid the villagers was hard enough as it is but now it was raining and you felt like your legs could give out at any second. This could have been easily avoided if you had just kept your trap shut. But no, you had been in a saloon gathering your bearings and trying to figure out why you were in this village.
Since you were a child you had a pull in your heart that made living uncomfortable. When you had asked your mother why, she had thought you were sick and took you to the doctors. But when they found nothing your mom thought you were crazy and just wanted attention. So you stopped telling her when your chest would start hurting and doing the weird pulling. This went on till you were twenty-two. Once you had the money you allowed the pull to lead you.
That's how you ended up in Romania. This hadn't been nothing like what you saw on the internet. The place had given you a weird vibe. Feeling like you went in a time machine and went back a few good years. This place was like a darker version of red dead redemption. But you'd do anything to get answers on the weird pull. So you thought it'd be smart to ask the bartender at the saloon.
It was not.
He screamed witch and that's how you ended up running through the dark forrest. You were able to escape being burned to death. You were bleeding and you were sure you were bruising as well. Having to fight your way out of there. Then you had no choice but to run into the forrest. Never would you have thought that you would be chased with torches and pitchforks.
But at a certain moment they stopped and you only had a second to catch your breath. You fumbled with your inhaler. Taking deep breaths trying to calm down your racing heart and aching lungs. Just when you caught your breath, you heard the villagers once again closing in.
"Fuck." You whizzed out. You noticed the most turning a weird yellowish color. Before you could really take in what was happening as you were running up the hill you stumbled on branches and roots. You heard the screams of terror from those villagers. You tried to run faster but you were losing energy quickly. Hearing the footsteps behind you grow closer. At the heavy breathing of those villagers.
Right when one of the villagers, you noticed it was the bartender that called you a witch was only a few inches away from grabbing you he suddenly, stopped? Causing you to fall and roll into a ball covering your head. You heard the bartender screaming and begging but you didn't pay them any attention.
The silence that followed was loud. The only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing. You tried to find your inhaler with out rising your head. But you came up empty. Whimpering in pain when breathing was becoming harder. You felt what could be a small hand tapping your shoulder. When you looked up you saw that the hand belonged to a doll. That was moving on its own. Even though the doll was creepy in her white dress you saw she was holding your inhaler. She held out her wooden arms offering you the inhaler. Even though the doll was straight up terrifying, you felt...safe. You took your inhaler with shaky hands. And took it, shaking it before taking two puffs.
You stood on shaky legs feeling the dolls hands helping you up. You weren't sure why it was helping you but as long as it didn't hurt you. You figured it was safe.
"Th-Thank you." When you were able to calm down you looked down at the doll. Eyes widen when you saw a woman in all black, wearing a veil. Standing behind the doll. She was around your height. You stood a few inches taller. The familiar pull growing stronger when your eyes connected with the woman. Even though you couldn't see the woman's face you could feel the connection. The pull of the heart getting stronger. The woman held out her hand. Her rather small hand.
"Come with me, you'll be safe." A feminine voice rang out. The pull again was the thing to lead you to take the woman's hand.
**
You came to learn that her name was Donna and the doll was Angie. She was your soulmate apparently, Donna had explained she felt the same pull. Which was why she was in the woods last night. She had felt the pull stronger than ever and closer she got to you the stronger it got but it also grew warmer.
Soulmate.
This beautiful woman was your soulmate. You haven't seen her face but you knew she was beautiful. She sounds beautiful. Her voice was smooth, it was something you could listen to all day. She had explained how she researched on the pull.
When Mother Miranda had found out about the pull. She had barged into her home and demanded to know about it. Mother Miranda had never heard of such a thing and she wanted to know. Donna had explained it the best she could. Angie was the one do most of the explanation. When they were done Mother Miranda had told her that she’d never find her soulmate. That she’d never be loved. That any one would run the other direction when the saw her face. The words had echoed the her brain the more she thought of her soulmate.
But when the pull had started to feel closer to her she shot out of her house. She couldn’t believe it. Her soul mate was coming to her. From the pull she could feel that you were in danger. Angie had also felt it. They both hurried towards the direction of the pull. Finding you in a fetal position. A man standing in front of you with a axe, ready to struck down. Angie was the one to attack the man. But Donna had finished the job.
No one was to hurt you.
Donna had been surprised at how calm you were taking everything in. Ever since the fall of Mother Miranda things had been quiet. Her siblings kept to themselves and their areas while she stayed alone in hers. She couldn't complain. She liked being alone with her friends. The dolls have always been here with her, making her feel not as alone. But with the pull she had always felt this longing for someone. She was the smartest of the lords but yet she couldn't explain why she had this connection with you. The overwhelming need to protect you from the those villagers. Was so strong it was something she never felt before.
Donna knew from the moment she saw you she wouldn't be able to let you go.
*
It had been a week since you found your soulmate. You had yet to see her face, which you didn't mind you wanted her to feel comfortable with you. You and Angie got along pretty great. She was basically a child in a dolls body. It was how Donna had explained it to you.
"Look see that's a lion and I'm right there petting him. He really likes the belly rubs." You were showing Angie pictures you had taken with your Polaroid camera. You had plenty of pictures from the journey of following the pull. You taken the pictures of everything little thing you encountered on your journey to her. Hoping to show who ever was at the end of the pull.
"That's so cool. It's like a big kitty."
"Well they kinda are, lions, tigers, jaguar, leopard and snow leopards are big cats."
You and Angie continued to look through the pictures on the floor. She had moved to sit on your lap. You leaned back on the couch where Donna sat. She had a book in her hands but you could feel her eyes on the back of your head. You could tell that she was also looking at the pictures.
"Who's that?" You heard Donna finally speak from behind you.
You looked down at the picture to see that it was one of you standing facing the camera with a beaming smile on your face. But what was behind you was a woman. An older woman, your grandma. She was a beautiful older woman with an even more beautiful soul. She had believed you all those times you'd tell her about the pull. She had told you she had felt the same pull that lead her to your grandpa. He had been a great man. Your grandparents had always believed you. It was the main reason why you decided to follow the pull. Your grandpa passed when you were twenty and the year that followed your grandma passed as well. Her final words go you had been to follow the pull. Leaving you with an allowance that would cover your journey and then some.
In the picture the older woman stood right beside you. Your smile had matched with the older woman, Donna took in the older woman features noticing the burn mark covering the right eye of the older woman. The burn scar was huge, long and covered most the woman's right eye. The half of the eyebrow was gone due to the burn. But never the less the woman smiled.
"Oh that's my grandma. Uh she was attacked when she was younger." You said in a gentle voice, remembering how your grandma told you about her day she was attacked. "She was attacked all because of the color of her skin."
"Oh I'm sorry, people can be cruel to those who are simply different."
In the way she said it, you knew she was speaking from experience. Your heart screamed to go comfort her but you didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.
"Yea, but I loved my grandma either way and so did my grandpa. I don't think I've ever seen someone so in love. What my grandparents had was special. It's what most be would die for." Angie was still in your lap looking at all the picture that had any type of animals in them. Which happened to be a lot.
"Your grandfather didn't care about the scars?"
The question was asked with so much disbelief, confusion and longing?
"Yea he didn't care. He always admired her beauty. Reassuring her that there was no other woman like her. Grandma always said that the scars had made her insecure but with grandpa around he would always do whatever he could to make sure she knew that she was loved."
"Sounds like he was a good man." It seemed like she was deep in thought.
"He was."
****
The day carried on you and Angie spending time drawing. Donna was in her office working on some paper work while she was also talking on the phone.
“Don’t take it personal Y/n. We have had a hard time trusting others. It’s not you really. She just needs time.” The doll whispered.
“I’ll give her all the time she needs. I’m not going anywhere Angie.”
You continued drawing in silence cracking some jokes here and there. Making the doll laugh. It was until you heard the a soft raspy voice call your name from behind you. You turned around and saw Donna standing there fiddling with her fingers.
“I would like for you to stay. But I also would like for me to explain somethings to you.” Her voice coming out confident but you could also hear the shakiness in her voice.
“Okay Donna we can take it at your pace.”
She sat down on the floor with you her hands smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles on her dress. With some hesitation on your part you took her hand in yours. You heard the hitch in her breathing. It took her a second for her fingers to intertwine with yours. But when they did you swore she could hear your rapid heart beat.
“I have a this cadou, this has caused a deformation on my left eye. It’s also allowed me to control Angie and control plantes. Cause hallucinations. Moth-A woman named Miranda had put it in me after she killed my family. She had manipulated me, I was alone and scared and she used that to her advantage. Miranda was a terrible person, she wanted me to use these abilities to hurt others. I couldn’t do that, when the time came my siblings who were others in Miranda’s control had developed a plan to take her down. We were successful. Since then I’ve kept to myself.”
With every word you had felt the anger in you grow. You didn’t care that she had, powers? You didn’t care that she could kill. You didn’t care about the scar she was obviously insecure about. You loved this woman. Your soulmate. To know that there was a woman that hurt her physically and mentally. You had wanted to murder that woman.
“The day I saved you, I used my abilities to make those villagers see their worst nightmares. The pollen around my home has always affected others. But to you. You had breathed it in and you were fine. I want would love for you to stay here with me Y/n. These past days you had proved to me that you would. I just hope you would still stay after I show you my face.”
The hold you had of her hand you gave it a gentle squeeze. “Donna I’m not going anywhere. That’s a promise.” With a shaky exhale she let go of your hand. Her hands raising to her veil. Your heart breaking when you noticed how they shook.
“Donna you don’t have to sh-I want to. Really. I just never shown anyone.”
The first feature you noticed was her soft plump lips. Her skin was pale but it looked so soft. Then followed her nose but when you saw her nose you also saw the start of her scar. The more she lift her veil, the more the you were able to see the scar. It was like nothing you’ve ever seen before. But what really got your attention was her eye. Her eye color was a beautiful dark green. Almost looking gray. You couldn’t help the smile, she was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. You hands raised up to touch her cheeks. Hovering momentarily asking for permission.
Donna looked you in aw. There was no sign of disgust or horror in your eyes. It was quite the opposite. She took in that your eyes were filled with love. Something she’s never experienced. She couldn’t help the tears that filled her eye. The way your hands cupped her cheeks when she gave the okay that you could touch her. The way your soft hands caressed her cheeks. The way your touch just made her feel so loved. She couldn’t help but to lean into your touch.
“Oh Donna. You’re beautiful, no stop-” You didn’t let her pull away from your touch. You knew you’d have to make her believe you. You’d keep trying till she accepts that she’s beautiful or you die. “You are Donna. This scar just shows how strong you are. You said yourself, that Miranda did the experiment on many others and they didn’t make it. You did. You’re strong. You’re beautiful. And you’re my soulmate. I’ll love you till the day I die.”
Your hands still cupping her cheeks. She had brought up her own hand putting it over yours. “I’d love nothing more amore mío. Ti ho aspettato così tanto.”
You smiled letting out a small chuckle, “I don’t know what you said but that was hot. I didn’t know you spoke Italian.”
With a heavy blush on her cheeks at the compliment Donna smiled, your thumb wiping her tears away. “I said I waited so long for you, I did not know what I was messing at first. But know I do. You. I was missing you.”
You moved your hands and wrapped your arms around her waist. You leaned forward just a bit. Your foreheads almost touching. “You don’t have to wait anymore. I’m right here. And I’m not leaving you or Angie. You’re stuck with me now.” You leaned in and stopped your lips only inches away.
Donna bit her lip, ‘be brave’ Angie repeated in her head. She leaned in the rest of the way. She couldn’t describe what it felt like to kiss you. Her soul had never felt so happy and complete. Her heart felt like it would be best out of her chest from the happiness she felt. Her sister Alcina spoke of the feeling. Donna had listened how Alcina spoke about the carpenter that worked in the castle. Donna had always thought that she’d never experience the love her sister had. But here she was. Kissing her soulmate.
Donna laid your arms after the kiss. She rested her head on your chest. Listening to your rapid heartbeat. The longer she laid there she heard the steadiness of your heart rate return. It was a rhythm she could listen to for a long time. She felt your strong arms around her body like a weighted blanket. Making her drift into a deep sleep.
It was the most peaceful sleep she had ever taken.
She was loved.
Mother Miranda was wrong.
:)
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Something that always struck me about this 'fight' is that it felt really one-sided. Not because the Raven Beast is bigger, but because she's also way more aggressive. We see throughout the show that Eda in her Owl Beast form acts mostly on instinct (and her inner beast, once she starts talking to it, seems to just be hungry or cranky most of the time). We don't get much insight into how Lilith copes with the curse (like none at all after this), so this is going to be a lot of inference.
Off the top, I would like to reiterate that Hayley Wong has repeatedly asked that nobody repost or edit her art without permission. I'm going to be referring to stuff from the boards in this post, so here's the link if you want to look for yourself.
So, in this episode, Eda and Lilith are both angry—specifically at Gwendolyn, and with good reason. They both end up turning into beasts due to a combination of that anger, stress, and the fact their mom thought she was "helping" by taking away their medication.
But here is where they differ. Eda was angry about the current situation: her mom refusing to respect her choices, and causing unnecessary harm to her all day. And Luz even joined in. As Eda says, she has a right to be upset, though I don't think she meant to lose control over the beast.
That's just what happens when she reaches her limit. And she knows her limits, she's been dealing with this curse for 30 years!
Meanwhile, Lilith has been dealing with the curse for... a few weeks, at most? Unless you count dealing with the guilt of cursing Eda as part of that. We see that she's quite unaware of the effects of the curse, as she experienced some symptoms for the first time this very day. She essentially gets told to take an elixir if she starts feeling stressed, and then is left in the house to stew in her guilt and insecurity all day.
Gwen's lukewarm greeting, and the realization that she's paid consistent visits to Eda over the years, is enough to send Lilith into a downward spiral. She starts stress-eating ice cream, and makes cruel comments about King's dad abandoning him (a clear case of projection, and I don't think he really internalizes it after this episode, but seriously that's no way to talk to your 8-year-old nephew), and unfortunately the only voice of reason around is Hooty. Well, he tried.
I want to note here that she doesn't cry. She mopes, she complains, she gets rude and cynical; these are all things we've seen her do before. But she doesn't allow herself to honestly express her feelings, her wants and needs. What's she gonna say? "Hey Mom, can you please pay attention to me?" You can't just ask for things like that. And she's a grown adult, she's more mature than this. She was the head of the Emperor's Coven, for Titan's sake. Didn't she get enough attention there to last a lifetime? And didn't she learn how to repress all her useless emotions and craft a perfect persona to hide behind until she could no longer tell the mask from her face?
She realizes she's indulged her worst thoughts a little too hard when the feathers start popping up, and goes to take an elixir and calm down...
And there are no elixirs.
And she panics. She has no coping strategies for this. She doesn't even know what's going to happen to her, only that it's going to be really, really bad.
It has to be terrifying, and painful... and maybe, just a little bit deserved? This is the fate she forced upon Eda, after all.
We don't see any signs that she damaged the house after she turned, unlike the havoc Eda caused back in The Intruder. King runs to get help, because Eda or Luz would know what to do better than he does, and Raven Beast Lilith seems to pursue him, but she's not after him. She goes after Eda directly. There is no distraction (King also notes that light glyphs had no effect on her), there is no behaviour that can be explained as animal instinct. There is a violent, visceral anger, and instead of addressing its source, she flies out there to take it out on Eda.
This is why I don't buy the interpretation that Gwen started favouring Eda only after the curse. By that point, Lilith was an older teenager almost out of the house, and it's completely reasonable for the parents to be focusing more on the younger kid with a new mysterious illness. I think Eda was always the favourite, or at least got more attention in ways that made Lilith feel overlooked. Part of it was that Eda got in trouble more, whereas Lilith was usually quiet and well-behaved, so everyone just decided that Eda needed more help (which she didn't necessarily want) and Lilith needed none. Lilith got very good at needing nothing. So good that instead of talking to her sister about their impending duel, she decided to curse her in the dead of night instead. And then to keep it a secret until she found a way to undo it, because she never wants to upset anyone or cause a scene. And then to give 30 years of her life to an evil man's crooked system for nothing—less than nothing, she's only going to realize later.
Lilith's breakdown isn't about the fact Gwen is paying attention to Eda again. That's just the trigger for a lifetime of repressed emotions bursting to the surface all at once, and it's been coming for a while.
The Owl Beast seems to be mostly defending herself. At a few points she tries to flee, but the Raven Beast catches her. The Raven Beast is malicious, with exaggerated expressions of rage and what can only be described as cruel glee when she inflicts pain. This seems to come out of nowhere... but only if you haven't been paying attention to Lilith.
We know what Lilith is like at her worst. It wasn't even that long ago she threatened Luz's life in order to capture Eda. All while convinced that she was doing the right thing. She doesn't even have that shield now. She doesn't have much of anything, really, except her sister who refused to leave her out in the cold even after everything she's done. And this is how she repays that trust...?
We also know that Lilith wasn't in control of her actions as the Raven Beast. But that doesn't mean the beast was just doing beast things. I believe it was acting directly on Lilith's intrusive thoughts. Hurting Eda was her greatest shame, and the idea that she could do it again is a constant fear that she has. Unlike Eda, who has long been seen by others as a monster and had to fight her internalized shame about it, Lilith considers herself a monster while everyone around her is unaware of her inner turmoil. She's afraid of herself; she thinks her feelings are ugly and violent and unmanageable. And so that's what they became.
There was a sequence in the storyboards that was cut from the episode, presumably for time, where Gwendolyn tries to use a beastkeeping spell in order to communicate with her beast-daughters. It proves completely ineffective, so she goes to plan B, which is just trying to talk to them like a normal person (also in the boards, Gwen summons firebees to lift roof tiles for her to walk on, which I'm glad got changed to the tiles themselves being flying creatures. it's less distracting). There was something really affecting about watching her try to do things her own way one last time before finally admitting that she's failed the both of them. It painted the picture of this whole family who never talk about anything that's difficult or painful.
Then the scene plays out the way it does: Gwen's words get through to Eda, and allow her to finally face the beast and have an important revelation about herself.
And Lilith? Well, for all the violence she just showed, she breaks down in tears the second she is shown loving care.
When they've changed back, her anger is gone. There is no sign of the monster; there is only a sad, lonely woman who hasn't allowed herself to cry in so long that she almost forgot how. But she's safe now, and she's seen, and she's allowed this healthy expression of emotion. She collapses in the arms of her mother and sister.
After this, Lilith and Gwen had an off-screen conversation, where Lilith admitted she was the one to curse Eda, and decided that she was going to move back home. I could write a whole other post on that first point, but we've reached the end of the episode. I think a major reason why Lilith wanted to stay with mom and dad instead of with Eda is because she's afraid of hurting Eda again. Any time the curse acts up, she becomes a danger to the people around her, but especially to Eda, because of how much of her energy and guilt and shame has been focused around Eda over the years. She needs some time away while she figures out how to deal with the curse, to recover and build up her own identity. And of course, to build the relationship with her parents that she needed as a kid. Better late than never.
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Briar Beauty Headcanons
Her full name is Princess Briar Talía Beauty. Her middle name comes from her maternal grandmother.
She’s incredibly intelligent. While she has had to tutor herself to make up for sleeping in class, she also studies on her own time. She’s highly knowledgeable in math, several sciences, history, and ancient magic. She’s also fluent in several languages.
She studies dark magic excessively in order to understand her curse. While she hasn’t found much yet, she hopes to at least postpone her fate.
Briar’s parents’ marriage is nearly nonexistent. With her mother sleeping most of the day, her father rarely spends any time with her and fills the void by monster hunting. On the off-chance that her mom is awake and her dad is home, they only have time for each other and not for their children.
Her family has a history of narcolepsy. It comes with the family curse. Briar has frequent episodes and often experiences cataplexy (sudden, seizure-like muscle weakness following intense emotional responses such as laughing or crying). This would often scare Briar and the people around her, but she’s gotten used to it.
Briar was raised by the seven good fairies who blessed her as a baby. One of them blessed her with a strong will instead of the ability to sing, just to make sure she could survive living with her parents.
Her and Faybelle’s relationship is complicated. She was always encouraged to get to know Faybelle. Not just because she is her fairytale counterpart, but because she would be the only person from Briar’s former century to survive through her hundred-year sleep. Faybelle constantly annoys her and teases her, and Briar wishes she would buzz off half the time. But she enjoys Faybelle’s company, and she’s glad she’ll have a familiar face to look at in the next century.
She has a huge family. She has eight younger brothers, but her mother’s uncles, aunts, and five cousins all live with Briar’s grandmother in the family summer home. They intend to move back into the main castle when Briar begins her destiny, and she’s terrified of when that day comes.
Briar raised all eight of her brothers almost by herself. They all look up to her and listen to her instead of their parents, which caused a lot of chaos to ensue after she left for school. This has made her constantly anxious about what happening to them without her.
She would teach her brothers the dance routines to her favorite music videos whenever they felt scared.
She loves food. She’s always willing to try new foods and crazy combinations, even if it sounds gross.
Briar has very few memories of Rosabella before coming to school. Her mother doesn’t talk much about Briar’s aunt, and she had never been to her cousin’s home before the Winter incident happened. The visits stopped after Briar turned 10, and she hadn’t seen Rosa until they started school together.
Though she tries not to, Briar makes attachments to people very easily. She desperately craves affection from others and helps out her friends whenever she can. The problem is, the more attachments she makes, the more friends she loses.
During the very few family gatherings Briar had with Rosabella, they would comfort each other when the fighting got to be too much. Briar was the one to cry the most because she didn’t understand why her father was being so cruel to her aunt and uncle.
She will never admit it, but she’s jealous of Faybelle for having such a good relationship with her mom.
She loves kids. She great with kids. But she’s terrified of becoming a mother. Becoming a mother would mean passing down a horrible destiny, and reliving that same destiny when said child puts the whole castle to sleep.
Briar always loved parties because that’s where she met her friends. She associates parties with the people she loves, so she throws a party at any given opportunity.
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It's Easier if I'm to Blame, Yeah, It's Easier to Numb the Pain
Word count: 2919
TW: Near-death experience
Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously @poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @did-i-say-you-could-get-up @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes @callum-hunt-is-bisexual @xanadaus @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @arson-anarchy-death @dizzeners @thefoxysnake @olivedumdum @loveution @notyourlegacygirl
On Ao3 or below the cut!
Once again, this was a thing for my creative writing class, but this one was actually supposed to be a fanfic, not just a barely-concealed fanfic like the other two. Essentially this is that one scene in Neverseen where Fitz and Dex become friends. Yes, I know it's been done before. I've done it before. This is the most hinged fanfic I could write and to be fair I wrote kotlp chapter 3 like two years ago and this is from Fitz's pov. It's completely different
“Can I…um…talk to you for a sec?” Dex asks, his voice sharper and brighter than it has any right to be, ripping a spiraling Fitz out of his daze.
For Physic to admit so plainly that he just nearly died that’s—that’s terrifying.
Sophie might go through that on a far too regular basis, but for Fitz to get that close to his own demise makes him feel things he’s never felt before. It’s a kind of fear and a lack of control he’s never had before, even while he was watching Sophie drag herself back from the edge of fading away.
It’s an even deeper affront to his being than that. Elves are supposed to have an indefinite life span; they aren’t built to process the concept of their own mortality.
“Uh…sure,” Fitz replies slowly, glancing up to find Dex studying the floor.
Fitz’s Mom herds Keefe and Sophie out of the room, and Physic follows suit, her bejeweled half-mask glittering in the sterile lights as she goes. Keefe, ever insufferable, proclaims that he’s going to be eavesdropping. Fitz throws a pillow at him for his impunity.
It is very quickly made obvious that this was a bad decision as Fitz’s chest screams with pain.
The inky veins of arthropleura venom may have been drawn out of his skin, but he still has a long way to go before he’s fully healed. Physic’s scolding tells him as much.
The look Physic gives Keefe as she warns him to not throw it back is unexpectedly familiar, but Fitz can’t quite figure out why. At least the pillow isn’t allowed to make a return. Keefe is sure to remember this, though. Fitz will regret it one day very soon.
Dex waits for several seconds, head turned to the door, watching for the slightest sign that Keefe might be making good on his promise. Eventually he gives in and turns his attention back to the floor, gaze occasionally flicking up at Fitz.
Fitz smiles reassuringly, to no effect.
“I’m so sorry,” Dex whispers, voice ragged. He’s so quiet, Fitz wonders if Dex actually said anything or if his thoughts were just so loud that Fitz’s Telepathy picked up on them.
The next time Dex dares to look at Fitz, a tear streaks down Dex’s cheek. He quickly swipes it away.
More than that, though, is the guilt etched into every single line, every single freckle.
Guilt is the most dangerous emotion an elf can have. Fitz has seen its effects. His father’s mind broke from the weight of Prentice’s conviction.
The ironic part is that Prentice’s sentence was to spend the rest of his indefinite lifespan with his mind broken for assisting the Black Swan and, now, Fitz, Biana, and their Mom have joined that exact same organization.
And, yes, Sophie was able to heal his Dad, but what if she couldn’t this time? What if Dex shattered and Fitz was the reason why?
I’ve already had to go through losing someone because of Prentice’s exile. I can’t let it happen again.
“Dex, listen to me.” Fitz waits until Dex’s eye contact lasts for a whole second. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you in the slightest—”
“It was my gadget! It’s why you’re like—like this!” Dex’s voice cracks as he gestures to the bed Fitz is going to be trapped in for the next week.
Fitz’s hackles rise, meeting Dex’s anger head on. Anger is a safe emotion, at least until he starts saying things he’s going to regret. But he doesn’t care if he regrets what he’s saying so long as Dex understands.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but last I checked, you aren’t a Charger. So unless you’ve suddenly manifested another ability and then didn’t spend a week proclaiming it to anyone who would listen, that was not your fault.”
Dex’s voice takes on a dark edge. “Zarina wouldn’t have been able to do this.”
Memories of Councillor Zarina, lightning crackling in her palms and the faint whiff of ozone it caused as the air electrified, rush through Fitz’s mind. “She would’ve happily electrocuted any one of us if she thought it was the right thing to do.”
“Since when has the Council acted upon ‘the right thing?’”
Fitz’s mouth opens to argue that the Council isn’t malicious, just overly cautious with a tendency to cover up every possible controversy, no matter how small, but he thinks better of it. The memories of Sophie’s Ability Restriction surface, too fresh in both of their minds to ignore.
Dex probably blames himself for that, too. But that isn’t his fault, either. He set out to build an Ability Enhancer. It was the Council that twisted it into what it became. He was just following orders to not get his family banished.
“Since when have you not blamed them for every inconvenience you’ve ever experienced?” Fitz smiles amusedly, a recent event coming to the forefront of his mind. “I think one day I heard you probably working on your gadgets around five in the morning cursing them out. I don’t think they gave you that paper cut.”
“Okay, most importantly, why were you awake that early? And how could you hear me? We are quite literally in separate treehouses. And, also, it was a splinter, not a paper cut, thank you very much.”
Dex’s petulant smile doesn’t quite reach his dimples.
“I’m surprised Biana hasn’t told you about the horror stories of living with me. I’m apparently what’s called a ‘morning person’ and I should be placed in the Sanctuary to prevent the extinction of my species because it’s critically endangered.”
Dex’s smile widens, becoming more sincere. He looks like he almost wants to laugh, but his lips stay pressed together. That’s when Fitz makes it his personal mission to make Dex laugh before he’s allowed to leave this room, even if humor as a coping mechanism is Keefe’s specialty.
Fitz’s grand plans are suddenly impeded by a coughing fit, every muscle in his chest protesting with every single movement. A metallic taste tinges the back of his tongue and the skin of his chest feels impossibly tight. Between coughs, he can see the guilt flashing across Dex’s face, and it makes his chest ache in more ways than one.
Fitz doesn’t even get the chance to catch his breath before Dex begins a rambling apology. “I’m sorry I did this to you, and I’m sorry about the Ability Restrictor, and I know it wasn’t used on you but I’m still sorry about how it turned out, and I’m sorry for that day you came to the store and I acted like a buffoon, and I’m sorry for—”
Fitz interrupts him before he can work himself into even more of a mess. “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t blame you for what happened with the arthropleura?”
“But you should.”
“There was absolutely no malicious intent behind anything that went down. You need to stop blaming yourself.”
Dex shakes his head. “Intent doesn’t absolve me of responsibility.”
“Fine, then. Why don’t you blame the Council? You can do that. It’s very easy to get pissed at Councillor Zarina for short circuiting your gadget. It’s even easier to blame Councillor Clarette for calling the arthropleura there in the first place. Who’s to say no one would’ve gotten hurt if your mini smoke machine gadget thing hadn’t decided to be extra explosive?”
Dex looks…thoroughly unconvinced.
“Or, if you want to think about it this way, I share responsibility too. If I hadn’t thrown your gadget down the hallway, things could’ve gone very differently. Worse differently, but still differently. You can blame me for everything, you’ve done it before.”
Dex has returned to studying the floor, the uneven lines of light gray grout separating the slightly darker gray tiles. It’s the only room Fitz has seen in the entirety of Alluveterre that doesn’t feel like it’s a treehouse. It’s empty, cold, and smells faintly of hand sanitizer. “I used to hate you, you know,” he whispers.
His inflection on the word ‘hate’ seems to imply that those feelings might not entirely be in the past, but they certainly aren’t what they used to be. He wouldn’t be getting this worked up if someone else—like Stina—was the one impaled by the antennae of an oversized millipede.
“Yeah, I do,” Fitz replies simply, not breaking eye contact.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“I mean, I don’t entirely understand what I did to merit that kind of response, but, like, you’ve been more than willing to tolerate me in recent months. Why should I let that bother me? The past is in the past and it’s not like it’s going to reemerge.”
Dex turns away from Fitz, now studying the window that looks out onto the treehouses that make up Alluveterre.
Fitz can’t really see outside that well with the whole staying-horizontal thing, but Alluveterre itself has taken on a new atmosphere after going to Exile.
It should feel more open, but they’re both just as underground, just as claustrophobic.
The feeling of being trapped in that place, struggling for every breath as the venom coursed through his veins, is going to haunt him for a long time.
Maybe that’s the real Vacker legacy…nearly dying in the middle of Exile going to visit Prentice.
The surrounding circumstances around the visit couldn’t be much more different. His Dad went down there with Sophie to break Fintan’s mind. He went there to break Prentice out.
So much has changed in so few months, there’s no saying where it might go here. All Fitz knows is that Dex is an incredibly skilled Technopath and that he would rather have Dex on his side than against him.
Dex has the capacity to be scary when he wants to be, but he can also be incredibly stuck in his own head, like right now, as he continues to stare out the window.
“What if the past does reemerge?” he whispers.
Fitz looks at him, but he doesn’t turn to make eye contact. “Nothing is going to be a linear process. If you end up deciding that your initial opinion of me was correct, I might get a little mad. That’s just how I react to things sometimes. And I also have an intense desire to be liked by everyone—holy Exile, what was in those painkillers?”
Dex’s response is almost automatic. “It was actually the Oremideae leaves. I think your Great-times-a-gadjillion-uncle-cousin-whatever discovered them. They’re really good at preventing infection, but they also inhibit a little bit of the blood-brain barrier, both physiologically and psychologically. I didn’t realize they’d kick in this quickly…but, I mean, they were crushed...which would increase absorption rate. I can go if this is weird for you.”
Fitz can barely focus on the details of what Dex is saying. He goes off on alchemy-adjacent tangents quite often during the limited instances they’ve interacted and as much as Fitz wants to learn new things, there’s something so inherently distracting about Dex.
“You don’t have to go. Just don’t get mad if and when I say something stupid.”
“I’m sure you won’t say anything stupid.” Dex’s attention lands on Fitz once again, and he takes a few steps toward Fitz’s bed-prison.
“You never know. I am very untrustworthy in that regard.”
Dex is only a large step away from the foot of Fitz’s bed. He sighs. “I really am sorry for everything and a half.”
“I thought you were supposed to be good at maths. Infinity plus half an infinity is still infinity. It won’t change. There’s no reason to operate on an infinitely large quantity.”
Dex’s tone is flat as he says, “It was hyperbole.”
“Oh.” That would make a touch more sense. I’ll just blame it on my brain not functioning, that’s completely plausible.
Dex lowers himself onto the farthest corner of Fitz’s bed. It’s way larger than the ones that Elwin has in the Healing Center at Foxfire, it’s still really close compared to Dex’s normal trend of staying as far away from Fitz as physically possible.
But it’s not a level of closeness that’s anything significant in any other case.
Dex’s words are low, almost to the point where Fitz thinks his filter has slipped to the point of accidentally reading Dex’s thoughts, but it doesn’t have that familiar echoey quality and Dex is avoiding eye contact once again.
“I just want you to know—really know—I’m so sorry about what happened to you. I’d like to promise that it’ll never happen again, but that’s just not something I can guarantee with any level of certainty. That terrifies me to no end, but I guess it just comes with being a Technopath. Hurting everyone around me is just…inevitable.”
“Maybe,” Fitz concedes, “but you’ve also saved us so many times with your Panic Switches and even those first two gadgets today that didn’t malfunction. I don’t remember if you heard about me when my Dad’s mind was broken, but, well, I was a bit of an absolute mess and I lashed out at Sophie. Maybe hurting everyone around me is just an inevitable part of my personality.”
They sit in silence together for a long moment.
Fitz breaks the silence first. “I guess that means that we should be friends. Mutually assured destruction and all that.”
“Even despite the fact that I used to hate you?”
“Yeah. A little animosity will keep things interesting. It’s an integral part of why I’ve tolerated Keefe for so long.”
Dex’s laugh isn’t as light as it used to be, back when they didn’t know each other. They’ve both been through so much, and there’s still so much unknown ahead of them in the future.
“‘Interesting’ is certainly an interesting word choice. But I guess I’ll try. That’s the biggest commitment I can make. Don’t be mad when I start acting like a blockhead again.”
Fitz smiles, struggling to keep his chest muscles from throwing another fit, this time induced by laughter.
Dex has been subjected to the worst of the prejudice it can offer, he’s still here fighting for change. He can be bitter at times, but it’s well deserved. Justified, even. Acting like a blockhead would be the least of Fitz’s concerns if he was in Dex’s situation.
The idea that the worst Dex could do is act like a blockhead is just so far outside of what he should be allowed, it’s almost comical.
Or maybe it’s those Oremideae leaves.
Fitz is enveloped by a strong urge to give Dex a hug, but he can’t tell whether it’s from pity, admiration, the realization that he’s truly broken through Dex’s shell for the first time, or something else he can’t quite describe.
And that’s the same time that the playful grin drops from Dex’s face.
“I should probably leave you to rest and heal. Let me know if there’s anything I can do or get you or—”
“Actually, I do have one small request, if you don’t mind.”
Fitz immediately regrets saying that, but there’s nothing he owns that’s more important to the healing process.
“I don’t mind at all. What can I get you?” Dex’s face is lit up, even if he doesn’t want to show it, with the rush of being helpful. It’s the one thing Fitz remembers from that day at the store—Dex’s absolute delight when he knows where something is.
“Under my bed, there’s a stuffed dragon. He should be pretty obvious. Please try to keep him away from discovery by others.”
“By ‘others’ do you mean Biana or Keefe?” Dex asks as he stands, leaving behind an empty, warm corner of the bed.
“Yes,” Fitz answers, realizing he’s been smiling like a complete and total doofus long enough to make his face muscles hurt.
Dex is gone for a long minute before he returns, brandishing a ruby red dragon, its eyes and sparkles twinkling in the fluorescent lighting as its wings slowly flap from the movement.
Elwin may have given Mr. Snuggles to Fitz when Fitz’s Dad’s mind shattered, but it’s hard to remember a time before it was in his life.
Fitz hadn’t noticed the emptiness settling into his chest after Dex left, but now that he’s back, Fitz is filled with the kind of longing that doesn’t want him to leave again.
“Thank you,” Fitz mumbles as he squeezes Mr. Snuggles so hard it takes a few seconds to return to its original shape.
Dex smiles. “Like I said, let me know if you need anything.”
“Likewise,” Fitz replies. “Although my capabilities might be a touch more limited at the moment.”
Well, that’s an understatement of the century.
Dex leaves without further comment, and Fitz settles himself down into his pillows, clutching Mr. Snuggles close to his chest, the familiar soft fabric a comfort to his otherwise aching muscles.
He’s almost drifted off into sleep when Keefe saunters into his room, apparently brought in by the power vacuum left in Dex’s absence.
And then his gaze lands on Mr. Snuggles sticking out from under the covers. The unrestrained joy as he wrestles Mr. Snuggles from Fitz’s dazed grasp is refreshing to see after knowing there’s been so many weeks that Keefe has been in such a dismal state.
Less refreshing is him parading Mr. Snuggles around and yelling through the entirety of the tree houses of Alluveterre. “You guys have to see this!”
Unmapped stars, have mercy on me.
#kotlc#fedex week 2023#kotlc fedex#fedex#detz#kotlc detz#dex dizznee#kotlc dex#fitz vacker#kotlc fitz
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Hi Andi! Congrats on all the new followers; totally deserved:)
If you are still taking prompt requests, I would love to see one of Will coming out to Max one on one and then having a bit of a bonding moment and maybe Max telling Will that she’s bi? I read your little oneshot of Will coming out to the whole party, but I missed Max’s presence in it. I think Will and Max would have a great friendship if given the chance <3
hi beth!!! MADCLERIC!!!! my beloved besties. they're best friends to me, ok? and i ALSO missed max in the will coming out scene, so thank you for giving me the chance to write this!
set in the three months between the battle of starcourt and the byers' move to california!
—
to love a boy (the way i love the ocean)
The last person Will expects to see when he makes it to Sattler Quarry is Max Mayfield.
The… the past couple months have been weird. “Weird” probably isn’t a good way to describe it, but that’s the best word that Will can come up with to even try to encompass the entire mess that his life has become since this past July.
(Hell, it’s the best word that Will can come up with to even try to encompass the entire mess that his life has become since November 6, 1983, but that’s an entirely different story.)
Right now, it’s just weird being at home. His mom and Jonathan have started packing things up already, even though they don’t move to California for another month. Everywhere Will goes, he’s reminded of how much things are changing, and it’s utterly terrifying. And on top of all that, El is at his house now, and… and that’s still a bit of an adjustment.
Does that make him a terrible person? Will feels like it does. El is a nice person—really, she is. And she’s been through so damn much… far more than Will has ever been through. She’s suffering right now, and she needs a family, since Hopper is dead. For all intents and purposes, El Hopper is now his sister.
But that doesn’t change the sinking feeling in Will’s heart every time they interact and how the words “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” echo in his mind on a continuous loop around her.
Will can’t be at his house anymore. He… he just can’t.
Normally, in times like this, he would run away to Castle Byers and spend his afternoons there. Castle Byers has always been his safe place—somewhere he could go to when he just needed to be alone to rest and to reorient himself.
But Castle Byers is gone too, and Will hasn’t been to the wreckage of his childhood fort since that fateful day that he tore it down.
It’s as if all his safe places are gone now—his home, Castle Byers, Mike’s house… None of them are safe anymore.
So, Will has had to find a new safe place… somewhere that nobody would be to find him at. Somewhere where nobody would even think to look for him.
What better of a place for a person to hide than in the place where they “died” years ago?
Maybe Will is terrible for choosing this place. He still remembers Mike’s quiet admissions to him, nearly two years ago now, that he used to have nightmares about seeing Will’s body pulled out of these waters. Back then, when they were best friends, one of Mike’s biggest fears had been losing Will, and so, this place had… really represented a place of trauma and fear for Mike.
He’s not going to be coming here anytime soon.
Good.
Will… doesn’t really want to face him yet. He can’t face Mike yet.
So, Sattler Quarry becomes his safe place—for now, at least. He’ll have to find one when they move to California, but that’ll be easier. He won’t have to avoid anyone but his family, and that’ll make his life easier. There won’t be as many ghosts in Lenora Hills, California, and maybe Will can finally start over.
But until then… this place is all he has. It’s his only safe place left.
It’s surprising, then, when Will sees a familiar, redheaded girl sitting on quarry shores, tossing rocks into the water.
“Max?” Will says tentatively, and his friend tenses, turning around quickly to look at him.
Her cheeks are flushed red. Her eyes are puffy. She… she’s been crying, and immediately, Will feels guilty. Maybe this is her safe place. Maybe he’s invaded it.
But then, Max relaxes, and she sighs quietly. “Hey, Will,” she mutters. “What’re you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Will points out, walking over to her. “Sometimes I just… I come here to sit and think.”
Max glances over at him again, a sad smile on her face. “Me too,” she admits; then, she pats the ground next to her. “Wanna sit and think together?”
“Sure.” Will shrugs and takes a seat, pulling his knees up close to his chest.
An awkward silence settles over him, and it’s… weird. It’s really weird. Max is cool, but truthfully, he hasn’t gotten to know her that well, other than in the context of being Lucas’s girlfriend. This past year has just been really difficult for Will, especially after Mike began distancing himself from their friendship, and it’s not like Will’s had many chances to hang out alone with Max.
Oh well. First time for everything, right?
“What’re you thinking about?” Max asks, her voice soft, and Will fights the urge to laugh.
“Too much stuff,” he admits. “You?”
“Same.” Max shrugs. “Mostly just… what happened at the mall, I guess. It’s been on my mind a lot.”
Will winces. Right. Max had lost her step-brother in the Battle of Starcourt, and while he’d heard from the other Party members that Billy was an awful person, Will can still understand the grief that Max must feel. If anything were ever to happen to his dad… Will doesn’t know what he’d do. There’s a part of him that would be sad, but most of him would probably just be happy. His dad made his life miserable, after all, just like Billy made Max’s life miserable.
But it’s not a normal thing to be happy about someone’s death, and Will knows that. He wonders if that’s how Max feels right now too, and if it is… he definitely doesn’t envy her.
“I’m sorry about what happened,” Will says quietly. “And.. sorry you got dragged into all of this.”
A quiet laugh escapes Max’s lips, and she turns to him, an incredulous look on her face. “You’re apologizing to me?” she asks in disbelief, and Will feels his face go warm.
“I mean… yeah,” he says with a weak shrug. “I just… I always feel bad whenever people get dragged into this. It was… it was kind of my fault, after all.”
The admission hurts to say aloud, and Will watches as a frown forms on Max’s face. “I don’t think it was your fault,” she says quietly. “I don’t think the others do either.”
“Yeah, well… that doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Will mutters, looking away. “It’s fine though. It… it is what it is. And the gate’s closed now. It’s over.”
Is it though? that quiet voice in the back of his mind wonders. Is it really over?
Will doesn’t know the answer to that question.
For several moments, Max is quiet, and a silence settles over the two of them once more. The sun shines down, warm on Will’s face, and he breathes deeply, closing his eyes and just trying to relax.
This is still weird, but it’s not bad necessarily. It’s just… different.
And “different” is something that Will is used to.
“Hey,” Max says suddenly, and Will opens his eyes again, turning to look at his friend.
“Hm?”
There’s a hesitant look on her face, and Max bites down on her lip, looking down at her dirty tennis shoes. “Can I… can I ask you something?” she asks tentatively.
Will’s brow furrows. “Um… sure,” he says, a bit skeptical. “What’s up?”
“You… you don’t have to answer this,” Max says, slowly and carefully, “but… I was just… I guess I was just wondering what… what’s going on with you and Mike.”
Will’s breath catches, and he looks away quickly, his face getting warm. A feeling of panic rises inside his chest. “What… what do you mean?” he stammers. “Nothing… nothing’s going on between us. We’re friends. We’re friends.”
But you want to be something more, that critical voice in the back of his mind mocks. Don’t you? You like him, you stupid fairy. You—
Shut up, Will thinks, closing his eyes tightly. His mind’s always been like that, and it always sounds a bit like his dad. Those feelings of shame feel like they’re rising, rising, rising—coming closer and closer to the surface—and Will fights with everything in him to push them down.
“California’s different, you know,” Max says, after several moments of silence. Will doesn’t dare look at her, but she continues, “El told me that’s where you guys are moving to. That’s… that’s where I grew up, and it’s a lot more accepting of… of…”
Max hesitates here, and Will dares to glance at her for a brief moment. There’s a distant and wary look on Max’s face, and she seems to be considering something.
Then, finally, she mutters, “Of people like me.”
Will blinks. “What?”
It takes another few moments of silence before Max sighs again, and she looks over at Will, her expression resolute. “I like guys,” she says, more confident now, “but I also like girls. Romantically, I mean.”
…
Oh.
Oh.
Warmth rises to Will’s cheeks, and for what feels like an eternity, all he can do is stare at Max, trying to take in her words.
I like guys… but I also like girls.
Romantically, I mean.
“You… you do?” Will whispers, and though he doesn’t mean for it to, his voice breaks.
A sad smile forms on Max’s face. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “I do. There, um… there was a girl I really liked before I moved to Hawkins. She… she was my first kiss. California… it’s not perfect, but it’s definitely better than Hawkins, Will. So… I think you’ll like it out there.”
There’s a knowing look on Max’s face, but she doesn’t say anything more. She doesn’t need to. Will knows exactly what she’s trying to say, and Max knows that Will understands her.
Max… she’s like him.
… Kind of, at least.
Because… Will doesn’t think he’s ever liked girls before. No, he… he just likes guys, so he and Max aren’t exactly the same… but… but they’re similar. She gets it, better than anyone he’s ever met before.
Suddenly, it feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest, and Will can breathe a little bit easier.
“You really think so?” Will asks hesitantly.
The smile on Max’s face grows. “I do,” she says, nodding slightly. “Hawkins kind of sucks, in case you haven’t noticed. I’d give anything to go back to California. I miss the ocean and the sunshine and all that. Plus, the people suck just a little bit less.”
“We could take you with us,” Will jokes with a weak laugh. “I’m sure El wouldn’t mind that.”
Max’s lips quirk up into a bit of a smile, and she leans back, sighing softly. “Trust me, if I could go with you guys, I would,” she says wistfully; then, she turns to look at Will. “I hope you find some peace out there, Will. I think… getting away from Hawkins and all the people here would be good for you.”
Though she doesn’t say it aloud, Will knows that Max is talking about Mike, and he feels his face go warm once more. That lump in the back of his throat grows, and he glances down, suddenly feeling embarrassed once more.
“You… you won’t tell anyone, right?” Will asks, his voice impossibly soft. “About… about how I…”
His voice trails off, and in spite of his best efforts to stop them, tears sting Will’s eyes. His heart is pounding inside his chest, and the nervous pit in his stomach only grows.
But it’s okay. It’s okay. Max is like him. Will can be brave. He can.
“About how I… I like guys?” Will whispers, even quieter now. He looks up, hesitantly meeting Max’s eyes, and he blinks back his tears. “About… how I like him?”
A sympathetic, sad smile forms on Max’s face. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Byers,” she promises. “Everyone deserves to come out on their own terms, and… the others don’t even know about me. This can just be our little secret.”
In spite of everything, Will can’t help but laugh, and he reaches up, wiping his eyes. “It’ll be our little secret,” he agrees.
Will pauses. He hesitates slightly, glancing back out at the quarry. “Hawkins doesn’t have any oceans,” he murmurs, “but this place is pretty nice. Not a bad place for someone to die, am I right?”
Max bursts into laughter, and she bumps his shoulder. “Not a bad place to die,” she agrees. “It’s still not as cool as the ocean, but I’ll take it, I guess.”
A grin forms on Will’s face, and he bumps Max’s shoulder back. “You should tell me about California,” he suggests. “I want to know what I’m getting into before I move out there.”
Max glances at him, a little smirk forming on her face. “Okay,” she says with a shrug. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” Will answers without hesitation. “Tell me everything you love about that place.”
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I have a question:
So like uh... how can you be sure if you are traumatized? My mind keeps swapping between thinking I'm traumatized and thinking I just had a slightly weird childhood and I'm simply over-reacting like I always do.
Also second question that is more optional and you might not know:
If your parents are unable to save you from an unfortunate circumstance like say... a sister that is violent loud and angry to both you and the parents.... and you often were in distress from say... a sister that would scream hit and punch and took all the parent attention to them and left you alone and hiding in your room... then could that lead to you growing up with the same effect of neglect?
I'm guessing you would want a more clear picture of what happened to answer either one of these question so here it is:
My sister was and is (but way more stable) mentally ill. I spent most of my years in elementary from 2nd and up living in a house with somebody who can harass, mock, and sometimes hurt me at any moment. She did mostly calm stuff like only say "retard" to me for a stretch of time that feels infinite because I was autistic, and almost punch me but stop and make fun of me getting scared. Very rarely she would go above and beyond by trying to drown me over a dipute and locking me in her room and refusing to let me out because I couldn't fix her computer. I adapted though, I pretty much avoided my sister as much as I can until recently when she calmed down.
One thing I could never escape though was the yelling, the screaming, the crying. Every time my sister would have a mental breakdown, which was a whole, whole, whole lot, she was loud and sometimes violent about it. I was hardly ever in the middle of it, I usually just hid in my room while being forced to hear my sister's screams and my parents trying to get her to stop with as little force as possible. It's hard to describe the emotions, and I can try all I want to make you understand what this was like but I won't ever succeed so I'll stop.
My sister also tried to kill herself a lot and been in and out of the mental hospital a whole lot so there is that too.
Also my parents were amazing, don't worry. The worst thing about my parents is that my dad is a bit emotional but he usually didn't engage with my sister when he could get angry so it hardly came up in a bad way but he did escalate a lot of situations. My Mom was understanding and calm and didn't really fight back against my sister but like... in a good way, it's hard to describe without you knowing my sister.
Sorry for the slop of words, I was thinking about like 2 other things at once while typing this and I don't have the energy to correct anything.
You can be sure you're traumatized if you have trauma symptoms. Trauma symptoms can range from feeling low self worth, fear and anxiety around people or specific circumstances and events, struggling with feeling normal around people, struggling with thoughts of self doubt, self hate, severe guilt and shame for everything that was done to you, or what happened, to the more recognizable ones: flashbacks, nightmares, emotional flashbacks, panic and anxiety attacks, losing control over emotions, not being able to regulate emotions at all, feeling unstable, desperate and terrified of the past and feeling low feelings or even complete despair about the future. It's also visible in struggling to have close relationships, feeling like you have to keep secrets, like nobody would love you if they truly knew you, feeling uncomfortable with people being near you or touching you (non-threateningly), running into isolation to keep yourself safe, or finding safety in substances, obsessions, addictions. Trauma can also manifest in development of disorders like eating disorders, anxiety disorder, panic disorder, ocd, depression. There's a lot of more subtle symptoms, you can check this list to see if any of this applies to you: Link.
It's often that traumatized people feel like they might be over-reacting, which is caused by the low self worth mentioned above; people who have normal self worth and are not self-conscious about how their emotions might inconvenience others, thus they don't stop to think if they're over-reacting, and take their feelings at face value. If a feeling is there, it's there for a reason, and the reason is unlikely to be something you made up. Sometimes what people will see as over-reacting is simply reacting to a trigger; even if you feel like your reaction was exaggerated, it's because something in your brain reacted to prior trauma and felt the need to evoke strong reaction so you would protect yourself against this event repeating, as it traumatized you in the past.
For example, if someone reacts with terror to a dog, we'd call it an over-reaction, but if you then find out they were bitten as a child and almost died, then terror is completely appropriate. It's like that with emotional trauma too, if something damaged you so badly as a kid you felt like you would never recover, your brain will react with terror or very strong emotions, to make sure you stay away and keep yourself protected. So it's really just a logical reaction, if you consider the past event and what it did to your life.
The circumstances you lived in as a child definitely warrant a lot of trauma. You describe your sister's presence as an 'unfortunate circumstance', but I don't see even one hint that your parents put actual effort in protecting you. Two adults are absolutely able to pay attention to more than one child at the time, and it sounds like you got completely neglected, and left to make your own conclusions to why that is. And you decided that parents cannot be at fault, because they couldn't do any better. I believe they could, because no child has deserved to be ignored and left to endure insults, slurs, screaming, yelling, punching, mocking, harassment and hurt at any moment, without any protection or care. Your parents were responsible for protecting you, and caring for you at any moment that you might have gotten hurt. It doesn't matter if they had 'a lot on their plate', because you are a human being they were responsible for protecting, and they failed you.
I can think of many things that could have been done differently to protect you, your sister could have been put in a place where she couldn't reach you, you could have been in a presence of a parent or a caretaker at all times to make sure nobody can hurt you, you could have been put in someone else's care as soon as it was obvious that your sister was hurting you, you could have been asked about it and comforted and a different solution could have been reached in order to make sure you live your childhood protected from all this.
Having one child that is a lot to manage does not mean you can now ignore all your other children and leave them to be hurt consistently because 'you cannot be bothered to pay attention to all of your kids' Also it sounds like instead of handling the child that was causing violence, they were escalating the situation and making it worse for you. Leaving one child to lash out at another is unacceptable, and it is both neglect and abuse. Protection from abuse is a part of what your parents are responsible for, and they failed you. And I can see you care so much for their good image, you're protecting them even as you're trying to talk about how they left you to fend for yourself in a world where you were harmed. Imagine if they felt that kind of compassion for you, and ran to protect you whenever you were alone with someone who was hurting you. You're showing more care for them in here, than they did for you in your childhood.
This had to be really hard for you to read, and I'm sorry for being so blunt. I'm not trying to tell you how you should see them, I'm just angry that you were put thru so much, and it didn't have to be like that. You know your situation better than I do, and if I'm completely wrong about everything, that's completely possible and you do not have to accept my opinion, your own is more important. I hope you're never left to fend for yourself in a world where others are likely to hurt you, that's not okay for a child to go thru, and it's painful and traumatic to an adult as well.
#abusive siblings#child abuse#abusive parents#sibling abuse#neglect#child neglect#failure to protect child from abuse#traumatic childhood#ask#furiousgoldfish
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Toy Store AU!
I AM SO SORRY ABOUT HOW LONG THIS TOOK! I blame college.
ANYWAYS...
This is more of a toy factory(but like the fun kind) than a store, but that's the vibes I'm feeling. The Molina family runs a toy business, making super cool stuff from scratch rather than all that cheap plastic stuff that gets mass produced. It's a Molina family tradition that Ray married into(Yes Molina is Rose's last name, you can pry that headcanon out of my cold, dead hands).
Rose was the master of all things woodwork, and passed on many of these skills to her daughter. Their house has always been filled with little carved animals, handmade dishes, and lovely woodburned signs on the bedroom doors. Ray was slightly terrified when Rose started teaching Julie to carve pretty young, but it was mostly without serious injury.
Ray is better at the stuffed side of the toy world. He and Rose met when he was an apprentice in the stuffy workshop and she was learning the ropes from her dad. They fell slow and steady (Rose's parents shipped it from the beginning), even when Ray took some time away to act as the tour photographer for his friend, Trevor. Rose and Trevor ended up being good friends as well when they finally met!
Back to the present, Julie has just come back from a year away at boarding school. It wasn't anyone's first choice, but after Rose died, trying to be around the toy store was just too much for her. Boarding school was Tia's idea, as a way to give her some space to find herself. It helped some, but Julie comes home for the summer sick of being the girl with the dead mom. It's still hard to enter the workshop space though, so she starts working at the shop part of the business instead.
Enter Flynn, who got the cashier job back in January. The two of them become fast friends, bonding over stupid Karens, after hours restocks, and helping kids find just the right new friend. Julie discovers a surprising link between them, that being that Flynn is dating Carrie, Trevor's daughter. Trevor and Carrie hadn't been around much since Rose passed, so Julie hadn't seen Carrie in ages, but they start to get to know each other again through Flynn. It's sweet!
Alex grew up near the factory and he and Julie were super good friends as kids. They still are. Ray and Rose took a liking to him as well. So when he showed up one night when he was 16, explaining that his parents had found out he was gay and made it clear that they wouldn't be paying for anything for him outside of the roof he was 'allowed' to share with them, they quickly got him a job. He floated through positions for a while, doing well in most areas but just trying to find something that he really loved. He's settled at the moment as a delivery driver for the store. He likes the freedom of it, and how concrete it is. He's the best driver they have.
Reggie and Luke are partway into their first year as workshop apprentices. Luke mostly applied to satisfy his mom, who was angry about him not going to college, but he has discovered the fun of music boxes and maybeeee is slightly obsessed. Reggie has ended up in Ray's old position as the stuffy apprentice with his knack for tidy stitches and adding a bit of love to every single one.
Luke ends up poking around a bit in a closet of older models and stuff and finds some of Rose's music boxes(one of which has Julie's voice on it). He loves it and immediately goes to ask his boss/mentor, John, about it. John explains about Rose and how they all thought that Julie would follow in her footsteps as a woodworker, as she was one of the most talented he'd ever seen at such a young age, but how she hadn't been able to keep creating after losing her mom.
Not realizing that Julie is back now, at least for the summer, Luke gets sad but lets it go. And then she walks in on him listening to the music box in the break room a few days later. She kinda flips cause where the heck did he get that, and he goes on his whole thing about talent and art being something you have to let out. Julie ends up bolting into the workshop to get away. Luke is like, "Frick I came on too strong again didn't I..."
But who should Julie run into other than Reggie and Alex, who were packing up an order near the back of the space. And Alex immediately realizes she's having an anxiety attack and sits her down. Reggie grabs a big teddy bear for her to hug, and then ends up pulling Luke away when he comes in after her. After Julie calms down with help from Alex, Luke apologizes and they all just kinda... keep talking after that. And eventually Julie starts doing woodwork stuff again. The first thing she actually finishes is decal for Alex's bass drum with the logo of the boys' band on it. They all cry.
Andddd why must these always get so long when I do them? /nm
Anyways, hope you like it!!!!
#legolas tag#julie and the phantoms#legolas answers asks#jatp#also Willie is definitely around too#he's super good with electronic toys#and grew up in his uncle's toy store a couple of states over#but he bolted once he turned 18 cause uhhh... Caleb isn't the best boss... or parental figure...#but he had the skills still... so he just started working at the Molina's#he's still a little confused by the lack of disciplinary action if you don't meet the exact quota that gets set by someone higher up#but he is very much enjoying actually getting his lunch breaks#especially since he's managed to time them pretty well so he's in the break room at the same time as the cute delivery driver boy...
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I think the worst part about remembering is that at this point, nobody is off-limits. i was constantly surrounded by people who were abusing me/letting it happen when with my father. in the first few years of trafficking me, we lived in a tiny apartment that barely fit two people, let alone four. my little brother & i slept on a mattress on the floor while our father & his girlfriend slept in the bed. half the time we didn't even get sufficient covers or pillows. and his girlfriend didn't even seem to think anything of it. never tried to help us/provide bedding, never offered to turn the heater on for us, nothing.
we were in such close quarters that I don't know how she WOULDN'T have noticed something was wrong, but. that's the same woman that knew I was sick and had a borderline dangerously high fever, but still drove me to goodwill so she could try on clothes - I was literally sitting on the floor of the dressing room with my head leaned against the wall, fighting to stay conscious. we were just down the street from where my mom lived and she knew I was sick, but she didn't seem to care. neither of them did. my mom was FURIOUS when I got home and she took my temperature. all she had to do was look at me to know I was really sick, and she was pissed at my father & stepmother for knowingly disregarding that. my mom & her side of the family are the only reason parts of my childhood were good. they care about & love me so much, and I'm so grateful for that.
but.
I'm scared because I think my stepmother's brother did something to me too, but I can't fully remember what, and I don't know that I'll ever have all the pieces to put that one together. I'm scared because my uncle (father's half-brother) always scared the shit out of me and I can think of only one reason as to why that could be, because he was never physically abusive - he could yell, but he never raised a hand to me or his two daughters.
we lived with him for a while, on two different occasions. I was terrified of him. I didn't feel safe if his wife (my aunt) wasn't around. I don't remember enough to know for sure though, which is the only thing keeping me from losing it tbh. that bedroom down the hall in that trailer was the first place my father raped me. they might've even been home at the time, my cousins & their parents. I just - how could that stuff happen so closely around other people and NOBODY noticed? it makes my chest hurt. how did nobody think anything was just a little bit off? I'd scream & cry every time it was my father's weekend because I knew what was coming, but no one else did, and I was too scared to tell them.
it's hard not to feel a little bit bitter about that. it's even worse to have to seriously consider the idea that yet another family member was abusing me around the same time. and if my uncle really did do something to me, that terrifies me. my cousins are both girls. their mom lived with them for a while, but at some point she seemingly got fed up (she wanted to live a very different life) and walked out, which left my cousins alone with him.
I can only pray that the only man that did anything to me was my almost stepmother's brother (the woman we lived with in the apartment; she & my father broke up eventually) and not my uncle too. I highly doubt he'd only abuse me and not his daughters in that case, and that scares the shit out of me. what I learned in those eight years my father abused me is that no one - and nowhere - was safe. sometimes the men would pay my father in drugs, which I now know they probably did together because she developed a nasty addiction while she was with him - I'd seen him do hard drugs pretty often, and she did them too. I wonder if she knew where they came from. I can only hope she didn't bother to ask, but I doubt he would've told her if she didn't already know.
she didn't protect me. she didn't ever try to get between my father and I, even though she'd witness him screaming at me & sometimes hitting me. I was eight fucking years old. I still remember the time I innocently tried to help with my brother when he said a cuss word & getting smacked by our father because I "was not the parent." I sure fucking felt like I was. even my brother's own mother didn't take care of him the way she should've, and even if she does now, that's not something I can just forget.
I don't know. I really hope it's just my brain being paranoid, but I can't know for sure right now. I want to be able to say my uncle only intimidated me with words/yelling frequently, but I don't know. I don't know. and I hate that. I hate that the memories come back with no real consistency, and that I might not even be done recovering them. I want it to be over but I get the feeling it isn't, yet. I don't know if it ever will be.
I just hope I'm wrong, because that would make things so much worse. the one place I felt safe/like I could get away from everything was the same place I was raped for the first time, and in that case maybe it was never truly safe. maybe I'm an idiot for thinking anywhere with my father was safe.
at this point, all I can do is hope he didn't hurt me, but I can't even be sure he didn't.
#i hate this so much#its like. goddamn was ANY man i was around over there safe??? chances are not looking good!!!#i cant just up and ask my cousins abt it either. we lost contact when i got out. apparently they miss me though... i miss them too#they were the only ppl i felt safe around other than my stepmother's mom who is no longer with us. ovarian cancer is terrible#but like. how can i deal with the fact that their father may have abused me too? would i ever be able to move past that? i dont think so#it wouldnt even surprise me at this point. nothing can. remembering having a gun to my head while being abused kind of. broke me#like i dont know how it could get worse than that but i know it can. and it has before#my stepdad doesnt know hes the one that unlocked all of this shit for me. one word and it felt like everything came flooding back#and i might be the tiniest bit resentful of that. what he said to trigger those memories was horrible & i will never forget he said it#milo murmurs#fucking hell im so tired of this. does it ever end#csa vent#actuallyabused#actuallytraumatized
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Did you do soda popinski hc's? If not, can give you some
Hell yeah!! I've been so excited to do cokie cola man!!!!
(Btw, feel free to send multiple asks about the same character, Esp aran or joe, I have a lot of thoughts about those two)
Soda grew up in a very poor family with just his mom and sister. His dad (mother's boyfriend at the time) just... walked out and never came back. His sister has a different dad than him and his mother got a lot of shit for it. Despite all that, he grew up fairly happy.
Total momma's boy, absolute suck-up to that woman... to the dismay of his sister. His mother is a very non-judgemental and open minded woman and loves her children over anything. She did everything she could to care for him during his addiction and still does everything to protect him from the government.
Him and his sister (7 years his junior) fight a lot, but they always have each other's backs when it matters. He's currently helping her get her law degree and more than proud of her.
He had an older brother too, but said brother died of lukemia before he was born. His mother was terrified of losing any more children to cancer and hawked over both of them growing up.
He developed an alcohol addiction as a teenager to deal with his autism and trauma. He got sober after he had an emergency liver transplant, but even today he can't drink for fear of relapse. He only tells someone 'no' to alcohol (And mentions he's a recovering alcoholic) once before he starts swinging fists about it.
He was treated badly when he first came to the us. His English was terrible and people made a lot of anti-russian jokes towards him. One reporter repeatedly called him "Vodka Drunkenski".... when soda met the guy face to face, that man left the building in an ambulance. Needless to say, the bullying tapered off from there.
Outside boxing, one of his favorite things to study is chemistry! Most people think he's stupid because he's a super jolly guy, but he's quite the opposite. He'll often sneak into the lab and play around with what the scientists he works with are currently working on. He's actually the reason why his magic soda even works! A pinch of phosphorus here and a few drops of magically altered chocolate there, throw in some carbonation and boom! (Of course, he keeps this a very guarded secret- he doesn't want his managers knowing how smart he actually is)
His career is funded by the Russian government. As such, Soda has a LOT of pressure on his back to maintain a high status in the wvba. He's watched and controlled very heavily- not allowed to hold a job outside of boxing, see his family unless under certain circumstances or even go to a doctor that isn't government assigned. Soda hopes to gather the strength to seek asylum in the us one day and have his manager's abuse properly punished.
Despite his troubles, he tries to keep his head high and a smile on his face. Hope is something he always has on hand and his determination towards a better future for himself and his family is an endless well.
Reads people like books. He is incredibly empathetic and compassionate and the kind of guy always willing to lend an ear and a fist to those who need it.
He's terrified of any animal smaller than the average housecat. It used to just be rodents but for some reason the phobia expanded to small animals in general.
Dude is super outgoing, he makes friends everywhere he goes. It's genuinely quite hard for people to actually hate him because he's so earnest and sweet.
He can't cook for shit, mostly because he gets extremely excited and ends up burning his food or isn't careful enough to read the directions. With chemistry he's much more careful because toxic chemicals, but still. He does do good in mixing smoothies and (non alcoholic) drinks, and basic sweets like rootbeer floats in general, though.
He has a great taste for flavor mixing despite his poor cooking skills- all of his sodas taste very weird and very good.
Crazy strong sweet tooth. This man cannot get enough sugar in his system, lmao.
Shit driver. Never put him behind the wheel ever.
Shit handwriting. He's about 90% sure he has dysgraphia.
"Winter is a concept." - Ivan Valentinovich 'Soda Popinski' Polyanski, moments before stepping into a blizzard. (Seriously, this man just doesn't get cold.)
Russian orthodox... but very unorthodox (HA) about it. He's amazingly tolerant of other religions and belief systems and super open minded and protective of minority religions. Proselytizing grosses him out and he refuses to do it ever. He's also very anti-homophobic/transphobic and pro queer rights and protections (Being not straight himself). He loves listening to the rest of the world circuit talk about their religious beliefs and very eager to learn about them to be a better friend. He visits the mosque Bull goes to and works at with him quite a bit, the atmosphere is very calming and peaceful to him.
He shaves his head because he finds it more practical. His hair is quite dense, fluffy and coily and Soda doesn't have the time, energy or knowledge to figure out how to take care of it. He thinks he looks better bald anyways. And he likes being twinsies with bull!!
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Goodbye, Daddy. With love from Cookie.
August 3rd 1964 - August 15th 2023
As I mentioned a few journal entries ago, my dad had been sick and bedbound due to a bedsore that became an open wound. That open wound became septic down to the bone. While there were signs of it healing, his body could no longer take the stress it was under. The pain he was in was too intense. There was nothing more that could be done to help him medically. After discussing things with all of us, Dad was put into hospice care on the 8th. The IV drip was removed and he was put on a morphine/diluadid regimen to reduce his pain and aid his departure. Even after that, he kept fighting to stay with us. He didn't want to leave us. I know that in my soul but in the end? Loving someone is knowing when to let them go. We had to let him go so he could depart in peace, so he could be Free and out of agony.
This morning, at 2:30AM, he took his last breath.
My mom, my Aunt Paris, my younger brother, and myself were there. My big sister @dynamicspacebabe and her husband joined us shortly afterwards. Our whole family and several of his friends visited over the weekend and yesterday because we all knew that it would be soon. His kidneys had begun to fail. His brain was shutting down. He was no longer able to eat, drink, speak and during his last 48 hours, see us despite his eyes being open.
He could still hear us, though.
My mother had been playing music for him the whole time but in his last 48 hours, I took over as the DJ. Songs that he loved, songs from my childhood kept playing, and each one was deeply comforting, even the ones that made me sob. Eventually, I began singing to him, surprising everyone. I typically am not one to sing in public, despite having a pretty good voice, but I wanted him to hear me as much as possible. I wanted to let him know that I was still with him, even though I no longer had any words to say other that I loved him and that I would always be his Cookie.
His nickname for me happened on my birthday. According to the story, when I arrived, I looked like just like a gingerbread cookie. My mother's adopted father wanted to call me Pumpkin but that was promptly shut down. Too many stories about people getting into trouble involved someone known as Pumpkin, at least according to him, which was actually pretty accurate given that we lived in Gary, Indiana at the time. So, Cookie it was and Cookie it stayed. He was the only one who was allowed to call me Cookie. Cookie, it will remain for the rest of my life.
I know that I mentioned that I had conflicted feelings towards him. I know that I said that I was angry at him for his behavior towards me and my siblings as a parent in the past/present. I still have those feelings but they are outweighed by love. It was like that before he passed away and it will definitely be going forward. I won't pretend that it never happened. I won't rewrite history. I can't but I can have nuance. I can have balance. I can forgive but not forget. I can have empathy, not just for him but for my Mom.
Mom and Dad met when they at U of M in their late teens. They were together for 40 years. They were best friends and now, she's by herself for the first time since before they met. She still has us. She has her mother and siblings. She still has her true friends but I am terrified that we will lose her, too. Diane and I gave her resources to keep her here. Diane gave her the Suicide Prevention Hotline number and I told her how to use the crisis line at Easterseals, which I've been using frequently since the 8th. I also figured out how to check into a mental ward that's closer to home, not just for her but for myself.
I'm still afraid to be in a ward by myself but I have to be realistic. I have faced tragedy many times in my life. My family has faced tragedy many times but nothing on this level. Every time we've been through hell, Dad was always there. He supported us all as best as he could but this time? He is the tragedy and what makes things worse?
This could've and should've been avoided.
The nursing home who neglected my Daddy, murdered him. It's as if they pointed a fucking gun at him and shot him point blank. It wasn't congestive heart failure or diabetes that took him away. It was them.
If it wasn't for their callousness, their lack of professionalism, their utter contempt for the people in their care? He would still be with us.
And my father isn't the only victim. Every time we named the facility, people recognized it and reacted with sadness/horror. I am well aware that there are many other nursing homes just like the one who murdered my Daddy. I am well aware that it's a systemic problem through the United States and globally. I get it. I've been a Caregiver for over a decade. I have no choice but to get it.
That being said, I'm making it my mission to take down the nursing home and every person inside of it who took my Daddy away from me. I want to make sure that no one else will lose their loved one to them. I want to hit them where it hurts the most: in their wallet and I want to expose their shitty reputation to the masses.
It won't bring him back. It won't restore him to the man he was before all hell broke loose. It won't undo the pain and trauma we've gone through since late February-early March. It won't and can't do any of that but having a place to target, having people to blame for this makes the situation better. Having a mission after tragedy adds to the motivation to stay alive, at least to me. Maybe it's because I watched too much Batman growing up or maybe it's just me being spiteful but I'll take it.
I am heartbroken but not spirit broken. I can't speak for the rest of my family members but I know that I will survive this. I have the coping mechanisms, the support system, and most of all, I have a promise to keep.
Before cancer stole my Bunny, my Sara Elizabeth from all of us, she made me promise two things: she made me promise that she would not die alone in a hospital and she made me promise that after she was Gone, I would do my best to be happy and to live well.
I keep my promises and the promise I made to Sara will be double downed on for my Daddy.
All he wanted was for all of us to be safe. All he wanted was for all of us to be happy. He adored his family and he showed it as best as he could. He did the best that he could and flaws and all? He was a good man. He was a good husband. He was a good father. He was a good friend.
Reginald Thomas Dixon was a good man.
He was my Daddy.
And I will always, always be his Cookie.
I love you, Daddy.
I'm so sorry that this happened to you and we will make the pieces of shit who hurt you, who murdered you pay for it.
I no longer believe in the doctrine that I was taught but I do still believe in an afterlife. I do believe that you are at peace and I believe that you are with our Bunny. Please hug her for me.
I sang one of your favorite Donny Hathaway songs after you were released from the prison your body became. I sang that Someday We'll All Be Free and your Someday has come.
Smile, Daddy. You're Free.
youtube
With all the love in my heart, Cookie.
#rest in peace#my father#personal#family#family dynamics#music#my little brother#my little sisters#my older sister#dynamicspacebabe#LiveLoveWRITE#trumpetnista#nursing home neglect#medical malpractice#my childhood#oh hot dayum...this is my jam!#my mother#reunited family#mental health#crisis plan#hospitalization#tw: talks of suicide#us health system#us healthcare#revenge#my sara bunny#grumpy bunny#a promise is a promise#donny hathaway#ex jehovah's witness
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Just processing some personal struggles. Not much to see here.
Over the last week or so, I've encountered conflict of the traumatizing kind. I'm sensitive and lack a wide catalogue of coping techniques (I'm adding to that bag but it's still like... 4 main ones I use interchangeably lol), so the things I actually went through may phase others less.
My spawn has been dealing with neighborhood kid drama, of the lets-ice-one-child-out-and-doxx-their-parent variety. As far as doxxing goes, it could have been a lot worse. I received one anon text (I've already traced it) that was harassing, and it was only my phone number revealed and the video was taken down.
This was done by a 10 year old child (Child A). All because when they (Child A + Child B, C, and D) ganged up on my spawn at a birthday party last week, I marched my ass over to the house where it was happening (no adults, 1 twelve year old, the rest between 9-10), and shouted at them. I didn't cuss them out, but I shouted. In the past (over a period of four years now) I've tried lovingly counseling, firmly setting boundaries, having NO boundaries and being That House, etc etc. This is a low income neighborhood that folks are stereotyped about all the time (I live in a mobile home gotdang it, we're trailer trash out here, only THIS trailer trash takes their spawn to therapy). I've tried to extend compassion and not pigeonhole people, and I've allowed my spawn to tackle bullshit after bullshit after bullshit in hopes they would actually establish good bonds with these fucking hyenas. But this time I let them fucking have it, and yes, on a little kid's birthday party. The same little kid who my spawn spent two days planning this party for, evening making sure decorations went up because my spawn knows this kid is neglected. I scraped every extra penny I had to take them (spawn + Child B - birthday child) to the Barbie movie with my spawn earlier that day just to have them (Child B) turn around and corner my spawn in a bathroom and physically assault them because they were 'trying on her mom's lashes' and didn't want them to.
If you think this is about my spawn's mistake, you're wrong. Yeah, they're stubborn and not only is that unhygienic, but it's rude not to respect someone's boundaries. They're in trouble for that. My kiddo gets held accountable, often times more than they deserve.
It's never okay to push someone into a room and prevent them from leaving, then kick them, for ANY reason, let alone lashes. And yeah, between the push and kick, my spawn kicked back.
So I'm surrounded on many sides by hostile neighbors who all want to blame my spawn. I still have to talk to the mother of the doxxer this morning, but she hasn't historically been interested in holding their kid accountable for any bad behavior that they don't directly witness themselves. Thankfully I have proof, but even having this convo makes me want to throw up.
Then, two nights ago, I crashed hard during the evening (my menstrual cycle hit me HARD this time, I don't even remember going to sleep). I was awoken from a dead sleep by my father (it would be generous to call him a coparent, but he is a relative adult in the house) at 10:15 pm with utter panic in his voice saying, "I can't find Spawn."
We're not very calm people around here, so I immediately went outside and roared their name twice. I have a terrifying fucking roar. I've made grown men cry. So in just a moment they were wheeling around the corner on their bicycle, accompanied by one of the hyenas. Spawn is so desperate for friends because they've experienced a lot of upset in their early childhood development (Covid isolation, moving and losing friends, a single, non-sober parent - though I'm 200+ days sober at this point - etc, this is why we do THERAPY). So the oldest and most manipulative hyena broke the ice circle first and wormed her way back in to my child's good graces while I napped.
For whatever reason, this missing incident was different than when they haven't come home on time after sundown before. I've almost always had an idea of when they left, who they were with, and where they were going. But this time I had no context, I'd been dead asleep, and my dad woke me up in so much panic I think it really fucked me up. I sobbed and sobbed like I was grieving after she got back. It shocked my Spawn, who immediately realized how they'd fucked up. I didn't sleep that night. Barely slept last night, even though they were at a sleepover with their aunt.
I can't write right now, it's frustrating. I'm going to try again today, but I think all this is taking it's toll. That on top of the unpleasant interactions I've had due to my latest fandom interaction - which was MEANT to provide inspiration and be an expression of joy over my own work. But it's turned into an unpleasant, anxious experience I just want to be over with.
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Another day, another DCFS report.
I had two doctor visits on Wednesday and therapy yesterday. I have a black eye from my mom and I tried to hide it but the doctors asked me about it. My therapist saw it at my session on Monday but it was looking worse yesterday.
So in 24 hours, three reports were made against my mom. Again.
And guess who never showed up, never tried to send any messages to me, and is probably hiding somewhere like she SHOULD BE for telling me to stop telling on my mom. Yes. My social worker. The rule is (I think??) they have to do a well check no more than 24 hours after the report is made. She never came.
I just want to say I am so, so thankful that my doctors all know my mom is mean to me and that I am telling the truth. My social worker has been reported by three doctors and two nurses for what she has been doing (telling me to stop telling, then calling back everyone who makes a report to tell them I am lying and that my mom is good to me). So I think her plan sort of backfired on her. Everyone is mad. And I guess I should feel relieved that they have all told me they know I am not lying and that the social worker should lose her job, but I feel sad. Because even though I think she has stopped with the calling back, it hurts to know that she was purposely trying to make everything harder for me. She had no idea my doctors would tell me what she was doing. But they did because they know I am telling the truth. And not only that but they have also seen pictures and multiple black eyes/bruises. But so has my social worker so that just proves she knew she was doing wrong and she was actually the one who lied.
And the weirdest part is that my therapist has made multiple reports (she did not tell me how many) and she is the only person who has not gotten a call from my social worker saying that I am lying. Because my social worker knows that I have known this therapist for a lot of years because she used to be my therapist a long time ago. So I think the social worker knows better than to do that with my therapist. I think she was counting on doctors not believing me about my mom. Joke’s on her.
My mom openly admitted to trying to get guardianship of me so she can put me “away for good”. Which explains a LOT. Because if she was deemed a “fit parent” which is what the social worker was trying to make it seem like, she would be my guardian if the state wanted to pursue guardianship. That is terrifying.
So my therapist and my psychiatrist were talking yesterday and they want me to have a guardian but my therapist said to the psychiatrist “I want to let you know that the parents are…they’re very prominent people. So just be cautious.” Because she knows my mom and my step dad have a lot of connections. Which is how and why all of this is happening.
I just cannot believe this is happening. I feel so sad. Christmas is my favorite holiday ever and this has ruined the spirit for me. I just feel so, so sad. I have not stopped crying. I wanted to have a really good Christmas this year because I honestly have no idea if it will be my last. I am really sick. I just want to close my eyes and wake up and this all was just a dream. But it is not a dream. I am living in hell.
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I just saw a poll for “best FE parent” and it included Almedha and I’m—
Look…
I adore Almedha. She’s an intensely interesting character. She’s probably the best written mom character in Fire Emblem, even.
Is she a good parent, though?
(Spoilers for FE10 below)
When we first meet Almedha, she’s introduced as Pelleas’s long-lost mother and incidentally also the widowed concubine of Mad King Ashnard. Immediately we understand what her primary role in the story will be: she is the overprotective, overly doting mother figure. Her sole motivation is to see Pelleas ascend to the throne, while also keeping him safe.
Almedha is also a character who is primarily defined by her backstory. It’s incredibly tragic, and you can see this in her character design, where she wears a veil, as if she is in eternal mourning. Initially the audience will believe she is mourning Ashnard— after all, she is introduced as his widow, even though it is later explained that, not only where they never married, they was never any love between them. Rather, Almedha is mourning her son, who was (possibly?) stolen from her.
The lore isn’t exactly clear how Almedha and her son were separated. We know Ashnard was disappointed in having a sickly son rather than a physically strong heir, and that he held his own son hostage in order to lure Almedha’s brother into a trap. And for those that unlock the secret Soren conversation in a second play-through, we also learn what happened to Almedha’s son— her real son.
Because surprise! Pelleas wasn’t Almedha’s son after all. Instead, her real son — Soren, Mr. Grumpy Stradegist himself — was raised by a woman who despised him, and who then sold him to an old mage at the first given opportunity.
It can be assumed (even if it’s not a given) that Ashnard was the one to send Soren away. It is stated that Almedha spent years searching for her son, and why would she do so if she was the one who sent him away?
Yet even if we take it for a given that Almedha was not the one responsible for Soren’s abandonment at the hands of Tellius’s worst foster mother, Almedha isn’t exactly the paragon of effective parenting (or, as Izuka says, the paragon of sanity).
She allows her fear of losing her son a second time to drive all of her decisions. When Pelleas is tricked into signing a blood pact, Almedha keeps her knowledge of how blood pacts work from him, terrified that others might use that information to take Pelleas’s life. But in doing so, she puts the entire country of Daein in dangerous peril. Almedha herself says that she cares nothing for Daein— which is in direct opposition to Pelleas’s own goals.
Pelleas’s sole motivation is to protect Daein. It’s why he wants to be King.
Whereas Almedha’s desire to see Pelleas ascend to the throne is entirely selfish. She cares nothing for what it means to be King and rule a country, only that Pelleas deserves the role because it is his birthright.
It could be argued that Almedha’s dubious morals are irrelevant to her ability to be a good parent. Some may see her willingness to watch an entire country burn to spare her son’s life as proof of her being a good mother. But being a good parent is not just about keeping one’s child safe. It is about respecting the wishes of one’s child.
Even if Pelleas was alive and healthy, he would have suffered terrible emotional harm if the citizens of Daein had been sacrificed for him. He did suffer terribly, as he searched desperately to find a proper way out of the blood pact before the senate could evoke its curse.
Again, I adore Almedha. She is a wonderfully complex and tragic character.
But is she a good parent?
I do think it was a good decision for her to not confront Soren, once she learns that he is her true son. Trying to approach the topic with Soren likely wouldn’t have gone well. (Although I don’t think she would have any reason to know it was a bad idea, perhaps she was able to intuit it somehow?) She sees that he is healthy and happy, and determines that that is enough.
Other than that, I would say she gets like a B+ for effort, and a D for execution.
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Untitled
ph0enix-animations
Mothering mother