#I pointed out to my dad that we opened the door in sync and I thought of this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oliveisme533 · 4 months ago

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part one: a really good dad

You had Ellie when you were 18 years old and the father was not the greatest. Surprise surprise… he wanted nothing to do with you and this new baby once he found out you were pregnant. Flash forward 10 years and you enrolled Ellie in a local soccer legue where she meets Sarah. Sarah and Ellie quickly become thick as thieves and naturally want to have play dates. Of course this means getting to know Sarah’s dad . It’s not long until the very handsome Joel Miller asks you on a date. You date for 6 months before he pops the question. Everyone thought it was too fast, everyone except for Ellie and Sarah (and you two of course) but you didn’t care. This little family of 4 was everything to you. 6 years later you’re still happily married to your Joel, and you wouldn’t change a thing.

It was late when you got home from work. Joel’s truck was already in the driveway and the girls should both be at home at this point. You open the front door with a sigh. “Hey mama” Ellie calls from the couch. You walk over to kiss her head “Dad’s upstairs with Sarah” she said without looking away from the television. You set your bags down on the kitchen counter, slipped off your heels and carried them up the steps. You dragged your body towards your bedroom, but on your way there you passed Sarah’s room. Joel lay in bed with her, one hand gently rubbing her back as she rested her head on his chest. It looked like she had been crying. “Well hey baby girl” you said softly as you stepped into the room. You met your husband’s eyes trying to gain any sort of intel. He mouthed the word “cramps.” Truthfully, you should have guessed. All the women in this house had long since synced up and poor Sarah always struggled with very intense periods. “You need anything, bug?” You asked as you gently tucked a curl behind her ear. She shook her head. You turned your attention to your husband and bent down to peck his lips. “I’ll be in in a minute sweetheart.” He assured you“Okay, I’m going to shower” “Without me?” Joel called teasingly. “Joel!” You warned from across the hall. Sarah slapped her dad’s chest. “Don’t be gross, dad.” Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “You act like a damn 22 year old boy.” You often told him.

As promised, by the time you were out of the shower Joel was in your bedroom. “Is that girl still down there playing video games?” You asked. Joel shrugged and retreated to the top of the steps. “Ellie..” “what?” “TV needs to be off in 30 minutes.” “Yes sir.”

“Long day?” He asked from behind you as you brushed your teeth. You nodded “yeah…I’m so fucking tired. Girls have an okay day at school from what you can tell?” Joel, who was now putting toothpaste on his toothbrush responded. “Yeah ‘course baby. We got good girls.” You smiled to yourself. “Yeah. We sure do.” You put your hand on Joel’s ass “what about you? You behave today.” Joel shook his head. “Nahuh” he still made you laugh after all these years. “Well I’m sorry to hear that. I hope tomorrow will be better.” The two of you climbed into bed wordlessly on your respective sides. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his warm chest as his arms wrapped around you. This was your favorite part of your nighttime routine. Joel rubbed your back as you melted into the mattress. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were almost asleep- “no, I told you these are my shin guards I don’t know where yours are!” “I have a game in the morning just let me borrow them!” “We both have a game in the morning, Ellie! You need to find your own shit!” You and Joel both groaned. “Girls!” Joel called without moving from his current position. Moments later your bedroom door was opened by two grumpy teenagers. “Dad I told her- no I didn’t even try and take yours- that’s not what you said!” Joel held up his hand. “Enough! Both of you! Your game isn’t until 11 tomorrow. Ellie get up at a decent time tomorrow morning and find your shin guards and quit bickering with each other! Or if you’re going to do it, do it quietly.” You kicked Joel from under the blanket. “Never mind. Your mother says no fighting.” “You girls both need to get some rest, it’s been a long day. We love you.” You said to the girls. They muttered “good nights” and “we love you too” before closing the door again. Probably 20 minutes later you heard giggling coming from their rooms. You shook your head and smiled “sisters…You wouldn’t get it.” “You’re right. I certainly don’t get it” Joel responded. He resumed rubbing your back and you were asleep in minutes

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Joe’s POV

In your slumber, the two of you had detangled and were now sleeping on your own sides of the bed. The door creaked open and in tiptoed a hyperventilating Ellie. Joel sat upright. He was always the first to wake up…his wife was an incredibly heavy sleeper. “Baby, breathe, breathe. Com’ere” he stretched out his hands to his beloved step daughter. He didn’t see her that way though, he saw her as his own just as much as he saw Sarah as his own. Ellie had been dealing with these panick attacks for a couple of years. Joel pulled her in squeezing her tightly. This was the only thing that calmed her down. Joel wrapped his arms around his Ellie as he cood “shh s’alright baby girl. I’ve got you.” he straightened out her pajama shirt and gently rubbed her back. Damn…every poor woman in this house is falling apart tonight. Joel thought to himself. Ellie’s breathes were slowing with the firm pressure from Joel’s arms. Joel sat there with the girl in his lap, rocking ever so slightly. She nuzzled her face into his shirt. “Ya know I used to do this with Sarah too” Joel whispered. “Really?” Ellie whispered back. “Yeah only difference is, she was 6 months old not 16.” “Heyy” Joel’s chuckle rumbled through his chest “you know I’m only teasin’ baby, if my girls still need to be rocked when they’re 26 I’ll do that too.” He kissed Ellie’s head. “Cmon let’s get you in bed. Your mamas had a long day and I don’t want to wake her.”

In Ellie’s room Joel turned on the fairy lights that were strung around her bed. After tucking her in he handed her one of the stuffed animals he had got her probably years ago. “Mr. Bunny is awfully sad that he hasn’t been snuggled in awhile” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Dad I’m not 5” she took the stuffy anyway and tucked it under her arm. “Goodnight baby girl” he gently kissed her forehead and tiptoed from the room. On hard nights like these he always left her door slightly opened. Back in their bedroom Joel sighed. Now he was fucking exhausted. He left their bedroom door open too, in case Ellie needed them again. He looked lovingly at his wife who was still passed out cold. She deserved a good nights sleep. Hell, he deserved one too!

I’m not sure how many chapters I’ll write of this. I plan on making them so they can be read as independent stories :)

#fanfic #joel miller #joel tlou #pedro pascal #joel and ellie #joel miller fanfiction #girl dad #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel x female reader #joel x f!reader

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gemini-sensei · 1 year ago

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Alpha!Hawk x Omega!LaRusso!Reader Blurb

Fem!Pregnant!Reader ○ a/b/o au ○ @sensei-venus

CW: pregnancy, nothing more than that. (unedited)

After finding out about the pups, Hawk hardly ever left Reader's side. He never went home after that, just basically moved into Reader's room so they could be together even more of the time. After a few days, his parents called and asked where he was, to which he told them where and that they should come over because he's not coming home, and that he's not sorry about it. They'd understand if they came to the LaRusso's.

So they do, if only to try and bring their son home, but as soon as the door opened and they were welcome in by Amanda, the overwhelming scent of a pregnant omega hit their senses. The house was practically bathed in it. When they walked into the living room, that was where they found Hawk and Reader, as he fawned and fussed over her belly. It was pretty obvious to them what the ordeal was at that point.

He introduced them to Reader properly and the his dad took him aside to ask of he was sure about this, sure about anything. Hawk was firm in his response, eager to tell him even, that he loves Reader and their pups.

"Sure, we're young, but I know the most important thing right now is her and those pups."

They had a little more of that serious father-son talk while Mrs. Moskowitz and Reader were gushing over the pups. She had a little ultrasound photo showing off the three little dots she had growing in her belly, holding her belly with her other hand the entire time. It was no wonder she'd begun to show so early, triplets needed a lot of space and soon.

However, midway through her conversation with Hawk's mom, Reader grew needy. She looked around and chirped for her mate, hearing his voice somewhere in the house but unsure of where he was. He came to her with a rushed excuse me to his father, urgently needing to be by her side immediately.

When he asked her what was wrong, she just opened her arms and he smiled. The worry melted away and he sat on her other side and let her cuddle up to him. All was well. For the couple at least.

Hawk's parents were still a little started by the whole situation and his father was worried. Daniel ended up approaching him and they talked, talked about everything.

"I'm sorry he's been here this whole time, I'll play you back for it," his father said, taking a glance back at Hawk and Reader on the couch. The pair were gushing about the pups with his wife, who found the bright side of any given situation. "We had no idea about most of this. I mean, we knew he'd found a mate, but we didn't know they were this serious this soon."

"That would be the result of a synced mating cycle they somehow found themselves a part of," Daniel huffed. He had his arms crossed over his chest sternly, but as he watched the young mated pair from the next room over, it loosened. "I didn't like him for that. I still don't like him very much."

"It must be different to have omega children," Mr. Moskowitz mused.

Daniel appreciated the other alpha's attempt to see it from his perspective. "As their father, you try to do everything to protect them. You forget that at some point that job goes to their partner...

"Don't worry about paying us back. I'd rather them be here than trying to find their own place."

Mr. Moskowitz let out a sort of scoff, something between disbelief and astonishment. "I couldn't imagine sending them out into the world yet. Sure, they're not kids anymore, but they just graduated. They're still so young... they wouldn't know what to do in a place of their own yet, let alone with pups..."

"I know," Daniel sighed. He stared at Reader, watched the way she smiled and laughed. It was the happiest he'd seen her in a long time, probably since she first presented as an omega, and it was all because she was laying in Hawk's arms. "Part of me just wants to keep her close, the other part..."

"Might actually realize my son isn't as bad as you first thought he was?"

"Eli's not a bad kid... sure, he had some misguidance along the way, but he's a fine young man."

Mr. Moskowitz smiled proudly as he turned to watch the young couple for a moment. "I worked a lot, so maybe I let him stray away a bit, but he found himself. I couldn't have given him that. And now he's here, with your daughter, the happiest I've ever seen him."

"You know, I didn't ship him out of this country just because of that smile on her face, right?"

Moskowitz laughed. "I'm glad I never had an omega pup. I don't know if I could've handled the extra stress suitors give."

"I have two," Daniel signed. He turned his eye to Sam, who was helping her mother prepare dinner. "Funnily enough, she's the one I thought I'd have to worry about."

They shared a laugh though the atmosphere around them and their hearts were tense. All of the omegas and Hawk were happy, but the alpha fathers were stressed. They just hit it well.

The happy couple on the couch were blissfully unaware of what they were in for. It was going to be hard, especially for a pair so young. Three pups on the way. No home of their own. There was going to be a lot they were going to learn, but in that moment they enjoyed it all. Everyone around them were there for them, though they didn't say it out loud. Reader and Hawk had a lot of support around them.

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papas-being-papas · 27 days ago

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Where we are now

9 years came and went since Erron was first brought to the ministry. Terzo and his husbands were just now bringing him back from performing his first “show”. Mimicking his dad, he lip synced to “Circe” at his school talent show. His fathers could not be more proud of him. The group enters the ministry together, Omega holding the door open for his little family. Alpha lifts the young boy off the ground with ease, “That’s my boy! You were amazing out there, just like your dad!” He announces with a smile as they walk through the ministry doors, more than a little eager to show off the home video Omega had taken. Erron laughs and playfully pushes away from Alpha, “Babbo, you’re embarrassing me.” He whines, the smile never leaving his face. “Ah, let your babbo hold you, figlio.” Terzo tells his son, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “He’ll only be able to do it so many more times, you are getting too big.” He reminds the boy. Though it was untrue, Alpha could lift Terzo without issue, Erron would not be growing too big to be held anytime soon if ever. Though at some point Terzo would get Alpha to stop lifting their son like that, maybe.

Sister Imperator looks at the four from her seat on the couch, and almost catches herself smiling at them. Though she quickly cools her expression before speaking up, “I take it the show went well then?” Erron smiles excitedly, running over to Sister, eager to tell her all about the show, “It was awesome! You should have seen it, Sister! With the lights and everything!” He explains, his voice a little too loud for the quiet of the ministry. Terzo shakes his head with a fond smile as he sets his hand on his son’s shoulder, “I think we may have just gotten the perfect music video for Circe.” He says proudly, causing the boy to look up at him with wide eyes in amazement. He couldn’t believe that his dad actually wanted to use his performance as a real music video. “Hm, well, let me see it before we make that decision. We do have standards to meet after all.” She replies, even if deep down she already knew what she would say. Terzo rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest as Omega happily makes his way over and hooks up the camera to the tv to show off the video of their son performing. Alpha also makes his way over, scooping up the young boy again and bringing him to sit with him on the couch next to Sister. Terzo takes his place on an armchair nearby and Omega finds a spot on the floor that he deemed comfortable enough, more than happy for the chance to show off the talent that their boy possessed. Copia is on his way back to his room from the kitchen when he sees the video beginning to play and he also takes a seat on the couch, curious to see what his nephew had done.

As the video plays, Sister keeps her expression neutral but to anyone who knows her, they know she is impressed by the young cardinal’s work. Copia looks over at Erron a few times, and gives him a few thumbs up at parts he particularly enjoyed from the performance, and when the video ends Copia claps. “Ehm well done, ragazzo, well done.” He says, “You will give your dad a run for his money when you are older with talent like that, eh?” Erron can’t help but smile at his uncle’s words, “You think so?” “I know so.” Copia says with the most confidence Erron has ever heard from him. Terzo clears his throat and looks to Sister Imperator, “Well, Sister, what do you think? It is good, no?” Sister Imperator gives Terzo a momentary side eye before turning to face him, “I suppose it will suffice, but do not think you can use our young cardinal as a replacement for you in all of your music videos, hm?” Terzo waves off her concern, “Yes, yes, this one is special though, it’s his first and the world should see it.” He says, the pride in his voice evident.

“Mhm,” She replies, still eying him with some suspicion. Though after a moment she looks back at Erron, “Well, little cardinal, will you let us use your video?”

Erron nods his head up and down so quickly Terzo thought he was going to give himself a headache, “Yes! It’s okay! I would like that a lot!” He says again too loudly before clearing his throat and correcting himself, “I mean, I would like that a lot, Sister.”

#papa emeritus iii #cardinal copia #ghost bc #sister imperator #papa emeritus iv #emeritus family au #omega ghoul #alpha ghoul #papa terzo #terzo x omega x alpha

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askthechronoverse · 3 months ago

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Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter

There was barely a building at this point. The sign with the cat had fallen apart and rusted away completely and there were moss framed holes in the wall and building. Kit tried the door and saw that it was locked. She scrambled to look through the trash around her and her bag for paperclips. While she looked for the paperclips, her mind wandered to her father.

“Catherine, I think it's time I teach you something that I never thought I'd have to teach you.” There was a frantic note in his monotone as patted his jacket down for something. He and Kit were in front of the castle, late at night. “I can't believe I left my key at home, but there's no cause for worrying I suppose.” He turned to his daughter and shrugged, pulling two paperclips out of his pocket. “Always carry some paperclips with you. You can do so many things with a paperclip.”

“I thought they just held paper.” Kit spoke from the bushes around the front door for a spare key.

“You can do so much more than that with a paperclip. Come over here. I'll show you.” Kit floated over to her father and watched him bend a paperclip out of shape. “Do not tell your father about this. I will never live it down.” He held two paperclips out. They were bent in strange ways. “You can pick locks with paperclips. Come closer. I’ll show you how.”

Kit had by this point found the paperclips she needed. In her mind's eye, she followed her father's careful instructions on bending the clips into shape and inserting the clips in the right way. She turned one of the paperclips in the lock. It felt like it took forever, but with some experimentation, the lock groaned in defiance as it eventually yielded to her will. It fell to the floor without another word of dissent.

Kit cautiously opened the door, her heart dropping. The remnants of the portal were scattered all over the floor, but it was clear it was completely destroyed. She grabbed a few pieces and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes and searched her mind for some kind of answer.

“You need to clear your mind, Kitten.” RJ sat on the ground as a far younger Kit picked up some pieces in their front yard. “Part of Master Building is letting the Man Upstairs take the wheel.”

“Why are we doing this? Wasn't Aunt Lucy supposed to teach me?” Kit put the pieces together, but there was no thought behind it.

“Your aunt wants the Assembly to teach ya. That's great an’ all, but I wanna teach ya the basics. Maybe if ya can Master Build, ya can Master Break, too.” RJ smiled softly. “Let's try clearin’ your mind a bit.” He patted the ground next to him and she took a seat. “Close your eyes and breathe in real deep.” Kit did this, both in her memories and in the present. “Good. Hold it there for a little bit.” She did as her dad asked. “Breathe everything out now.” Both versions of Kit did this, almost in sync. “That's my girl! Do that a few more times until all your thoughts fade away.” As her father spoke, his voice echoed and faded until there was nothing in her mind.

She opened her eyes and looked around. The pieces around her jumped out at her in a sharp translucency. The instructions came to her mind like a bolt out of the blue. She moved quickly, unsure at first but it ramped up to something more automatic. The pieces seemed to fall into place, the clicking rhythmic as she built. After what felt like eternities, the portal was almost built. She stepped back to admire her work, but frowned when she saw what was missing: a single one by three brick.

“Catherine, we don't have much time. Did you fi-!” Richard floated into the room and looked at the incomplete portal. “What is that?”

“It's a portal. But I'm missing a piece.” She pointed to the hole as she dug through her bag for a brick, frowning as she was turning up empty.

“I think I might be able to help with that.” He floated into the spot. As he did, the portal hummed into life. “I recommend going through as soon as possible. Hazard went to get reinforcements.”

“Bye. I'll give Papa a hug for you when I see him next.” She went through the portal, falling through a tunnel of light and color.

She eventually found herself at the base of a larger portal in a room of rock and crystal. The room itself was cavernous and spiraled cracks glowed with a strange green light. If she wasn't so scared, it would be an impressive sight. Kit looked around for any sign of life until she was face to face with a familiar robot.

“X-PO?” Kit scrambled to her feet. The robot scanned her.

“You don't appear to be a threat. I don't think a tired dad would put a temporal lock on a threat. I'd ask who you are, but your headband took care of that. I'm X-PO. Stands for “eXperimental Portal Operator”. How did you get into Vorton? How did you know about Vorton?”

“I… I messed up. I just want my dad back.” Kit played with her headband.

“Kid. I have no clue what you're talking about, but maybe you can help me and my buddy out.” He moved to reveal Ken, who waved from his perch on a step.

“Ken! Hi!” She rushed up to the blonde man and hugged him. He hugged her back, but mouthed to X-PO, asking who Kit actually was. She pulled away and turned to X-PO.

“So my friend here means that a few worlds are somehow safe from the changes that were probably made, though they might be repeating events in their history. I ran a few scans and found one more foundation element.” X-PO flew around Kit, sizing her up. “I think we can use that to hijack control of the baseplate from the guy who has it.” X-PO bobbed as Ken brooded in the corner.

“I just wanna get back to Barbieland. Or the Real World. Or a horse ranch.” Ken seemed so down. Kit nodded slowly, unsure of what she was thinking.

“When all this is said and done, I'll take you wherever you need to go. Where do I need to go?” Kit asked as she held the skate close to her chest.

“I can set our portal to take you to this new world. Once you get the foundation element, I can send you to Foundation Prime. From there, you just need to find the baseplate and add the element. After that, you should get control to do what you want.” X-PO floated right into Kit’s face. “Just don't take advantage and make things worse.”

“I just want my dad back… and my friends.” Kit looked down at her phone. “I'm not going to do anything more to make that not happen.”

“You're fun at parties, huh?” X-PO stated sarcastically. “Alright, kid. Let me adjust the portal to the right frequency.” After a sequence of beeps that reminded Kit of an old song her dad once showed her, the portal hummed to life. “Good luck, kid. Next time I see you, let's hope it's in a better multiverse.” Cautiously, Kit stepped into the portal and back into the tunnel of light.

She found herself on a street corner. She shivered as her breath visibly escaped her lips. The world around her was full of white snow and twinkling lights that reminded her of the winter holidays of her home. When people passed her, she saw that no one floated like she did. She held her breath and willed her feet to the ground. She pulled her phone out and, before she could do anything further, felt a body crash into her. It was a boy, no older than eight, in a red scarf and far better dressed for the weather. He continued to bolt down the road, followed by a blue grey van that proclaimed that it was with Oh-Kay Plumbing and Heating. Kit barely caught the look on the boy's face, but a van chasing a kid looked suspicious.

She followed at a decent distance and watched the kid lose him in an outdoor display before he headed in her direction. As he passed, she stopped him with a tap on his shoulder. He gasped as he turned to face her. He said nothing before he ran off again. Kit frowned. Was that kid OK? She shook her head. Her heart was screaming for her to find the boy, but… no. She had to focus and find the foundation element. Right? She took a breath and walked in the direction the boy had run to. No. The kid may have been in danger. She ran down the block and stopped. Wait. She looked at all the well decorated homes and… couldn't guess where he went. Maybe he was safe at home with his family now? She couldn't tell. At the thought of family, her heart hurt. What if she couldn't find the foundation element? How would she know what she had was the element? She shoved her frigid hands in her pockets as she walked slowly in the opposite direction the boy had run.

Houses started to yield to other buildings. She stopped at the building where the boy had hidden and gave the hiding spot a good look. People in robes and animals stood around an empty trough, the ground coated with hay. The scene confused her. As she studied the scene, a woman's voice cut through her concentration.

“You look cold, my child. Do you not have a coat?” Kit whipped around and saw that the speaker wore all black save for a white band on her head. Kit shook her head and the woman held out a hand to tell her to stay where she was. She ran into a large building that looked like a strange white castle, soon returning with a jacket, a steaming cup, and a donut. The woman gave her the three items and gestured to the building she came from. “You can wait in the cathedral while I contact your parents, if you want.” Kit shook her head.

“No, that's OK.” She put the jacket on and was shocked it fit her. “I'm looking for something. Something special and old. It's for a history class.”

“I see.” The woman thought for a moment. “You picked a good city for that kind of search. There are building and homes that have been here since the 1800's. You can even start your search in this church.” She calmly gestured to the church. “Is there something specific you are looking for? Old and special doesn't narrow things down.”

“I… really don't know. It's something I just know when I see it.” Kit shrugged. “I don't think it's in there.”

“Well, I will be here if you need help, child. Make sure you check in with your parents, too.” The woman waved to Kit's retreating back as she began to wander the town.

The woman in black was right. The city, which she found out from a sign was called Winnetka, was old. She combed the town as best she could, but nothing felt to her like the Legend Plate had. By the time she found herself back at the start, the sun had set a while ago and the air had gotten colder. She looked into an older looking house on the street and saw a family eating dinner together from through the window. She imagined herself and her parents in the family's place and felt hot tears make warm tracks down her frozen face. The parents in her imagination were happily making dinner while she constantly got underfoot. Her father laughed while stirring a pot as her dad picked her up and held her close.

“Dad…” Kit whispered as she put a hand to the glass. “I want my Dad…”

She was snapped out of her imagination when she heard the sound of screaming tires. When she turned, she saw an old looking Dodge Omni across the street and three houses over. With a closer approach, she saw a sign that proclaimed it was a pizza delivery car for Little Nero’s Pizza. Her stomach growled forcefully. Maybe she could grab something to eat from there? She dug in her pockets and bag and found several gold coins with Unikitty’s face on it. Would they take Unikingdom Lolly? She didn't have much time to think before the driver, a teenager in white, ran from the back of the house he was parked in front of and drove off like his life was in danger.

She chose to follow the driver back to the pizza restaurant. It was harder to follow the speeding car, but knowing the name of the place helped. The smell of pizza was intoxicating, especially considering she barely knew how long it had been since she had eaten. Kit walked through the door, which announced her presence with the ring of a bell. She could hear a teenager frantically talking to someone in the back of the kitchen.

“I'm telling you! I almost died out there! I need a break or something!” He turned to see that Kit was waiting at the counter now. “Hey… Kid? You looking to place an order?”

“Yeah. Can I have a sausage and mushroom pizza?” She slid two of her coins on the counter and held out a can of Pepsi. He walked over to the counter, looked at the coins and turned them around in his hand.

“Uh… We only take real money. That’ll be $12.” He waited for Kit to hand him the money, the look on his face held a strong desire to clock out early.

“Those are real. It's gold.” She pushed the coins back and frowned, worried. “It's all I have.”

“I can't take foreign currency.” He sighed at Kit's disappointed look. “Look. I don't… I just can't. I can't give you anything without US currency. Sorry.” She turned and left the restaurant, the smirk of the mascot seemingly taunting her. She snuck to the driver's car and found the back door to be open. After a quick search, Kit found a stray bag of breadsticks. She kicked the door closed and rushed off, the kid at the counter unaware.

She went back to the house and watched the family watch a cartoon movie on TV in their tastefully decorated living room. The breadsticks were cold and hard, but the seasoning on them combined with the cheese on top was enough to satisfy her tastebuds. While she ate, she again imagined herself with her parents and let herself cry.

#⌈the ashes of disaster drift to you⌋ ⋆❈⋆ ⌈days of oblivion⌋#⌈the newspaper isn't antiquated⌋ ⋆❈⋆ ⌈writings⌋

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disastrousduckss · 8 months ago

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Aftermath

It is here!!!

TW/// blood, pictures taken without consent, mentions of being drugged, managers being creepy

Takes place after the party Hype mentioned in chapter 22 in "We Are In Sync"

Both Trickee and Ablaze walk towards their manager's room. After they got the description from Lane about the troll that could have possibly drugged Hype, they realized that the description matched the girlgroups manager, the very same one that was happy to have a collab with them. The very same one that gushed about his family, he even had a kid!

“Sick bastard.” Ablaze mumbled as he squeezed a stress ball. Trickee grabbed his unoccupied hand, giving a small squeeze. “Yeah, which is why we need to tell Mr. Gilt what happened. He’ll know what to do.” Ablaze nods, his grip loosening on the ball. “Yeah, you’re…you’re right.” He squeezes his hand back, Trickee looks over at him, “What’s wrong?”

Ablaze shrugs, “ It’s just…..you don’t feel any….weird energy from that guy?” Trickee thinks back to the times, he wouldn’t say he didn’t, he just chalked it up to not being around new trolls. Especially if you spent most of your life in a bunker, surrounded by four trolls everyday. “I mean….kinda. But I just thought it was because we haven’t really had an older troll boss us around before, you know.” Ablaze nods, “Yeah….maybe, maybe that’s why the others are so hesitant around him?” They look at each other and shake their heads, “No that’s not it.”

It started out with Boom asking Ablaze to come with him and Branch to the dressing room whenever he changed. It didn’t seem strange, most of the time whenever Boom asked, it was mostly him helping Boom with his outfit, like that one time when he chose one with so many zippers. Of course the zippers got stuck, so they had to cut him out of the outfit. Much to Boom’s dismay.

But this was different, Boom would have him lean against the door while he changed, he didn’t know why but then the door knob jiggles and a thud was heard against the door. It made both Boom and Branch jump, making Ablaze’s alarms start to blare a little. He put his hands up, silently calming the two down before he cracked open the door, just a bit. “Mr. Gilt?

The troll in question looks up at Ablaze, quickly smiling. “Ablaze! My boy, there you are, I believe Trickee is looking for you.” Ablaze nods, “Okay, tell him I’m in here changing.” “Oh, I would. But, he says it’s an emergency, and I know you two are fairly close, so I told him I would come and get you.”

Ablaze looks behind him, seeing both Branch and Boom shake their heads as they quickly change their outfits. Ablaze look back over at Gilt, seeing him quickly lean away from the door. He closes the door a little more, “Uh, yeah. I’ll be over there soon.” He quickly shuts the door before Gilt could say anything. He looks over at the other two, “Is there something you need to tell me?” He points to the other side of the door. Boom and Branch look at each other before nodding, “He doesn’t knock.” ‘What?” Branch throws over a baggy shirt, “Yeah, he just barges in. We tried to tell him to knock so we can prepare ourselves.”

Boom nods, grabbing the baggy shirt, “Yeah, he usually comes in when we are half naked, I mean. I understood the first few times when we were late dressing up, but now…..it’s weird.” Ablaze slowly nods, he remembers the time Mr. Gilt would run around the backstage, trying to find everyone. He actually walked in on him changing himself, but quickly backed out and yelled at him to hurry up. But now, things were different. They timed themselves perfectly, so they weren’t late again.

“I’ll talk to him.” He walks over and ruffles both of their hair, making them giggle.

“Just leave it to your dad.”

— — —

They were standing right infront of their manager's hotel room. Mr. Gilt had expressed strongly that if they needed him, wherever they were, to always knock on his door. They all agreed, believing that he too cared about his privacy. But right now, Ablaze was about to turn the knob before Trickee pulled him back, “What are you doing?” He hissed, Ablaze looks at him.

“What? Oh. Look, I need to get back at him, he walked in on me changing, so I need to get even.” He simply puts, before putting a finger to Trickee’s mouth to shush him. He then quietly opens the door and slips into his room. It was a two bedroom room, Mr. Gilt let the group have the suite, saying they deserved it for getting this far.

Trickee follows in soon after, quietly closing the door behind him. The two look around, before hearing a small argument in the next room. Trickee and Ablaze look at each other. They both get closer to the door, seeing it cracked open a bit. They get down to the floor and listen.

It sounded like Mr. Gilt..? And….that bastard.

It seemed Mr. Gilt found the culprit as was ripping him a new one by the volume and tone of his voice. Trickee smiles, now they don’t have to see that guy again! He was about to get up to go back out but-

“You couldn’t have waited until the party was over, could you?”

“You said no one would notice him going missing. That was the deal.”

Trickee freezes, staying still as he processes what he was listening to. He feels Ablaze’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him back down to the ground. He looks over at Ablaze, seeing him with the same expression as him. Shock.

“I only said you get to do whatever you wanted with him for forty minutes and that whatever happened after you drugged him was on you and I had no part in this.”

“You had no part- you are a part of this. We signed on it. I help you and your band to make it to the charts, I get to choose who I want to have……fun with.”

Trickee felt like throwing up, but more importantly, he felt rage. Sure Hype was 20, but still. That was his kid that bastard was fantasizing about. He starts to mentally count down, trying to calm himself. He looks over at Ablaze and sees only one thing behind his eyes; rage.

“You are impatient.”

“You are too Mr. Gild, but at least I’m not trying to take pictures of-”

Ablaze gets up and storms in, making the two trolls jump. “Taking pictures of what?” He growled, he was trembling. Not from fear, but with anger. Mr. Gild gets up from where he was sitting. “You two didn’t knock.” Ablaze glares at him, “What pictures? Answer me before I get mad.” Trickee gets up from the ground, grabbing Ablaze’s arm.

“That doesn’t concern yo-”

“Just tell them already Mr. Gilt. It’s too late to deny anyways.” Ablaze points a finger at the troll. “You can shut up. I’ll deal with you later.” He then looks back at Gilt, “Don’t make me ask again. What pictures is he talking about?” Trickee watches his Gilts eyes, seeing them move from them to the closet. Gilt was fast, but Trickee was faster, he pushed him on the bed and ran for the closet. When he opened the door, he only saw suits and jackets, he started to rummage the top layer, hsi hands grazing along a box.

He brought it down, it was small, like a shoe box. He hesitates to open it. He starts to pray that it’s just bird photos. But once he opens it, he feels his heart drop to his stomach. There were pictures alright, just not of birds. Some of them were pictures of him and Ablaze while they were either shirtless or changing out of their clothes. His heart stops when he sees pictures of Branch and Boom. Most of them were the two in clothes. He finds one with Ablaze in front of Boom as he gets out of a pool, blocking his body. He remembers that day, it was a pool party, it was also the day Branch would stay low in the water where he practically drowned.

Was this what Gilt was doing….taking pictures of them for…..he doesn’t wanna think about it. He feels violated, even though he never felt a hand on him. He feels his eyes start to water, was this why Boom and Branch were trying so hard to avoid Gilt.

Why didn’t they say anything to him or Ablaze?

He continued looking through the box, a few more pictures of them, some of them were of them sleeping. It was then a short realization came to him. There were no pictures of Hype.

“Trickee?” Ablaze calls out to him. Trickee rubs his eyes, feeling the tears sting but he can’t go out there looking weak. He picks up the box and walks back out of the closet. “Ablaze….” He walks over to Ablaze, picking one of the pictures of himself. “He’s been taking pictures of all of us.” Ablaze looks over at him, before he quickly snatches the box from his hands. Trickee watches his expression as he goes through the box. He closes the box after a few seconds, before glaring at Gilt and the other troll.

“You’re both fucking dead.”

Gilt puts his hands up as Ablaze stalks closer to him. “Now Ablaze, let me explain-” “I DON’T WANNA HEAR IT!” He pushes Gilt towards the other troll. “You both are gonna wish you were never born.”

Gilt raises his hands, “THIS WAS THE ONLY WAY TO GET HERE! THIS IS JUST SHOW BUSINESS.” He looks over frantically at Trickee, “GET HIM OUT OF HERE. I’LL EXPLAIN MORE CLEARLY, PLEASE!”

“Ablaze, wait.” Trickee looks over at Ablaze, seeing him looking back at him. “We can’t….” He walks over to the door, Gilt lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank you Tric-” “Not while the door is unlocked.”

The door shuts, along with the clicking sound of the lock. Trickee then turns around and points to Gilt and the other troll.

“Ablaze, attack.”

— — —

Trickee winces as Ablaze applies the disinfectant wipes over the cut on his cheek. The two were now in the bathroom, with Trickee sitting on the sink. Both had a bit of bruises. A few small splotches of blood on their skin and clothes, nothing that makeup and laundry soap couldn’t get out. “Sorry.” Ablaze says as he rubs a soothing circle over his hand. Trickee nods, “It’s fine.” He nods, continuing to clean Trickee’s cut. His skin was softer than Ablaze’s, so he was able to bruise more easily.

“How are we feeling Trickee?” He asks as he looks through the first aid kit for a band aid big enough to cover the cut. Trickee looks over at him, “I…” He starts to cry, alarming Ablaze as he quickly wraps him in a hug. “I FEEL SO STUPID! HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED THE SIGNS!” He continues to sob as Ablaze rubs soothing circles on his back. “Shhhhh. There was no way you could have known. I didn’t even know.” Trickee looks back up at him, “I’m the oldest ‘Blaze. I’m supposed to watch out for this type of stuff.” He looks down at his hands.

“What kind of…..guardian am I?” He hides his face in his hands as he continues to cry. Ablaze stares at him, before quickly realizing. Trickee’s color was fading. His Trickee’s colors were fading.

“No, no, no, no Trick. You’re not a bad guardian.” He lifts his face, wiping the tears that were falling. “Who was the one that carried Branch back home after he fainted?” Trickee sniffs and looks at him. “M-me?”

“And who was the one that stayed up late with Boom when he had nightmares?”

“Me.” Trickee smiles. His color slowly coming back.

Ablaze smiles, “Who was the one that carried Hype to bed after staying in the study room for almost half the day?”

“Me. Gosh, he would be asleep half the time.” Trickee giggles, the other half he would be awake but still wanted to be carried to bed.

“And who was the one that encouraged Branch to sing again?”

“Okay, first off, that was all of us.” Trickee says as he rubs his eyes, wincing as he accidentally rubs over the cut on his cheek.

“Yeah, but you were the first.” Ablaze says as he grabs Trickee’s hand. “You are a great guardian. It’s not your fault that you didn’t see what was going on.” He looks down, “I should have seen them when Boom first asked me to stand in the changing room with him and Branch.” Trickee looks at him, “What..? When?” “It was a few shows ago. At first I didn’t think anything of it, just thought he needed my help with an outfit. But when….when that bastard tried to walk in, I should have known.” He lets his head hang down. “I…I talked to him, thinking that maybe he forgot all about etiquette and told him he should knock before opening doors.” Trickee lifts his face, “You only thought he was being rude, not that he was being a perv.” He cups Ablaze’s face with both of his hands, thumbing over a smear of blood on his cheek. “It’s not your fault.”

Ablaze puts his forehead against his, “It’s not yours either.”

They stay silent for a bit, just taking each other’s warmth. Trickee sniffles a little bit later, rubbing his eye. “Damn it, you’re gonna make me cry all over again.” Ablaze smiles, “Sorry,” He opens the band aid and places it over Trickee’s cheek. He then smirks, “Want me to kiss it better?” Trickee giggles, “Please?” He leans in and gives him a quick peck over the band aid. “Better?” Trickee nods, “Mmmhmmm. Thank you. Now it’s your turn.” They switch places, Trickee pulled out another disinfectant wipe and started to clean Ablaze’s hands, having small cuts on them since he decided to wrap one the chain necklaces he found and repeatedly punch the daylights out of the manager.

After he was done bandaging up his hands, the two quickly washed their faces. Once they exited the bathroom, they were met with the aftermath of what they did. Two trolls laid in their own small pool of blood, their clothes were tattered and torn. They tried to get away earlier when Ablaze was on his blood lust, so the door had claw marks and bloody hand prints.

Ablaze kneels down close to Gilt’s body. “Now….I hope you guys learned your lesson.” He doesn't reply so he harshly grabs Gilt by the hair, lifting his head up, getting a yelp from him. “Did you hear me?” Gilt nods his head, “Yes, yes. Please just…..no more.” Ablaze smiles and drops his head, “Good, now we are gonna be taking those pictures with us, and the ones of Hype you gave to that fucker.” He says as he walks away and grabs the box, he already searched the other manager's body, but he couldn’t find any of Hype’s pictures on him.

As they leave, Trickee looks back at them, “Never show your faces near me or my family again, if you know what’s good for you.” He doesn’t waste time to wait for them to answer, quickly shutting the door and following Ablaze right back out into the hotel hallway.

“Think they’ll report us?”

Ablaze shrugs, “Maybe, but don’t worry,” he wraps an arm around Trickee’s shoulder, “We’ll take care of it.”

Trickee smiles and nods as he wraps an arm around Ablaze’s waist, “Yeah, we will.”

#we are in sync au #we are in sync fanfic #tw///blood #tw///senstive topics #disastrouswrites

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of-many-fandomss · 2 years ago

Note

Happy New Years!! Hoping we can start 2023 off with a Tangerine x reader 🤞 I was think maybe something along the lines of reader is Ladybug’s step daughter and is rlly close with him and considers him her real father and her and Tangerine start going out and trying to hide it from their respective family members bc they both think it would hurt their family and that’s all they have. Personally I feel like Lemon wouldn’t mind the relationship all that much and would catch on fairly quickly considering how good he is at reading ppl but reader and Ladybug might have some issues when they talk about it so maybe a little angst but nothing soul destroying tho!

She stepped closer to the man she’d known and loved for so many years. “You know I don’t like other people’s opinions or perceptions of me.” She began. “I’m aware” Ladybug agreed.

“you however are the closest and only thing I’ve ever had to a father. So I’m asking you, father to daughter, are you okay with this? Me and him?”

Happy New Years to you too!! (this was a bit longer than I meant it to be)

—————

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” You asked, nervously playing with your fingers as you glanced out the window.

Tangerine turned his head to face you as he set the car to park, “We have to tell them at some point, love.” He reminded you.

“But does it have to be now?” Your leg was bouncing up and down anxiously by then.

He sighed lightly, gently grabbing onto your hand and placing a kiss on top of it, effectively stopping your leg from moving, “We don’t have to tell them right now if you don’t want, love,” He told you sincerely, eyes searching yours, “We can wait until you’re ready.”

You sighed because that, that right there, was the reason you couldn’t put off telling your families about this anymore. He was always so sweet and always put your wants and needs before his own. Because you loved him with all your heart and the two of you shouldn’t have to hide it.

“No,” You tried to make your voice sound determined, “No, you’re right, we have to do this.”

Pride shown through his eyes as he leant forward and placed a kiss on your forehead, “That’s my girl,” He whispered affectionately.

With that, he quickly got out and rushed over to open your door before offering you a hand to get out and the two of you made your way into the restaurant.

You had told your stepfather, Ladybug, to meet you there just like Tangerine had told his brother, Lemon, to meet him there. The plan was that you would tell the two of them at the same time about your relationship. Doing it in a public place was just in case your father reverted back to his old ways and was less than calm about the whole ordeal.

As you both entered, neither Ladybug or Lemon noticed your presence at first, both of them too busy warily eyeing each other from across the restaurant, no doubt wondering what coincidence had compelled the other assassin to be there at the same time as them.

You gave Tangerines hand one last squeeze before dropping it, deciding it was better not to front as a couple until you were actually able to explain it yourself.

“Dad!” You called, flagging him down.

Both his and Lemons eyes snapped over to the two of you in sync, eyebrows furrowing and raising respectively.

You and Tangerine went and sat down side by side in a nearby booth, waiting until both of your family members had joined you, reluctantly sitting side by side.

“Kid?” Ladybug asked, looking between you and the man in confusion, “What’s going on?”

“Tan?” Lemon asked at the same time, raising an eyebrow towards his brother, “Is this about a job?”

Your step father threw his head back with a groan, “Don’t tell me we have to work with these idiots!”

Tangerine swiftly kicked Lemon under the table to stop him from tackling Ladybug for the comment before he cleared his throat, “No, s’actually about something else.”

“Oh?” Ladybug asked.

“Oh,” Lemon breathed out at the same time, realization sparking in his eyes as he looked back and forth between the two of you, he had always been good at reading people.

All of your heads snapped over to the man and he nodded once in understanding, a small smile growing on his face.

Tangerine let out a barely audible sigh of relief and you squeezed his hand under the table, both of you more than grateful for his brothers acceptance.

“What’s going on?” Your father asked, becoming more confused and worried by the moment.

You cleared your throat this time, “Do you think you could give us a minute?” You asked gently, to which they both nodded and quickly swept away to a table a few feet away.

“Dad,” You spoke, “Tangerine and I are dating.”

You held your breath as a pregnant silence followed your words and he blinked at you once. Twice.

“What?” He finally asked, as if he hadn’t- or didn’t want to have- heard you.

“We’ve been going out for a few months now, and we thought it was time we told you and Lemon.” You admitted, nervously eyeing his face for any indication of a reaction.

“You-and him?” He stuttered out, eyes going wide at the realization, “But- you can’t- why-“

“Dad,” You effectively cut off his rambling and sighed lightly, “You know I don’t normally care about others opinions about me.”

“I’m aware.” Was all he was able to say.

You reached across the table and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly, “But you are the closest thing I have ever had to a father and even though I love Tangerine with my whole heart, I don’t know if I could keep seeing him if you didn’t approve of this because I love you too much. So I’m asking you father to daughter, are you okay with this? Me and him?”

It was silent for a moment, and in that time, you began to worry that he would react the way he used to react to sudden and unexpected news. Recklessly.

“Are you happy?” He finally asked softly, shocking you.

You nodded slightly, tears beginning to pool in your eyes, “I’m so happy,” You answered honestly.

“Then of course I approve of it.” He finally squeezed your hand back, “I approve of anything and anyone that makes you happy, no matter what.”

You quickly jumped up with a small sob, pulling him in for a tight hug, “Thank you, dad. That means the world to me.”

He tightened his hold of you, “And you mean the world to me, kid.” He whispered back.

When you both pulled away, you turned towards Lemon and Tangerines table, who both scrambled to sit straight up as if they hadn’t just been leaning in to listen in on your conversation.

“You do anything to hurt her,” Ladybug warned, eyes boring into Tangerines as he kept an arm around your shoulders, “And you’ll wish you were never born.”

#tangerine x reader #ladybug x reader #tangerine blurb #ladybug blurb #bullet train blurb

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blessyourhondahurley · 1 year ago

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Suptober day 31 - This Bliss

A fluffy domestic day in the life of a happy, settled, married, post-hunter Dean Winchester and family.

Suptober prompt: Trick or Treat

(Read on AO3)

As the coffeemaker blurts out its last few brewing burbles, Dean snags the pot and pours himself a tall, fragrant cup. They've been experimenting with flavored blends recently, a project that Cas has gotten really into after Charlie sent him a gift basket of assorted coffees and teas for his “birthday” last month. Thanks to four decades of sludgy diner joe, Dean maintains pathologically low expectations for his morning cuppa, but he's finally comfortable enough in his masculinity to admit that the salted caramel spice variety they're drinking this week is fucking stellar, especially with a dash of cream. He adds that dash now, then shrugs and stirs in a little sugar as well. Why not treat himself?

There's a scuffle behind him, and he turns just in time to see Sam and Eileen stalking through the kitchen, arguing silently. He hasn't yet mastered the finer points of sign language, but somehow he catches “screwdriver”, “watermelon”, and “recycling bin” and decides not to inquire further. They disappear together through the door to the garage, still gesticulating furiously at each other.

Dean smiles at their backs and takes a seat at the kitchen table, He has another sip of his coffee and unlocks his phone. The villagers in his Animal Crossing town need his help with a fishing tournament today. He casts his line and waits.

“–en we'll ask Dean!!” is the only warning he gets before his kids burst into the room. Jack's in the lead, looking distressed. Claire is half a step behind, sporting the world-weary smirk she likes to wear like armor.

As soon as they're in front of him, they both start talking at once, and it's impossible to understand anything they're saying. Dean puts out his hands above the table, palms facing down, and lowers them slowly, a sign for calm down. Their voices trail off in perfect sync.

“Okay, let's try that again, only maybe this time actual communication can occur?” Dean points at his son. “Jacky, you go first.” Claire jolts, her mouth falling open like she wants to protest, but Dean turns his pointing finger upwards to indicate wait. “You'll get your turn, hon. I promise.”

“Claire says I'm too old to trick or treat tonight!” Jack says plaintively. “I'm only five!”

“Yeah but you look twenty-f–” his sister butts in.

Dean cuts her off with a barked “hey!” Mollified, she makes a zip-it gesture across her mouth, crosses her arms, and waits.

Jack continues. “Am I gonna get in trouble if I go out tonight? I don't want anyone to be mad at me! You and Dad said I could, though! My costume's all ready!!” He's giving the most puppiest of puppy-dog eyes, and as he finishes speaking his piece, a single perfect tear wells up and runs down his cheek.

Dean reaches for his son's hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Claire-bear?” he prompts.

“I just don't wanna see the kid get his hopes up for nothing,” she says grimly. “He doesn't exactly look like your average first grader. People don't take too kindly to grown-ass men tryin' to scam them out of their Kit-Kats.”

“I get it,” Dean acknowledges, giving her a nod.

At this apparent confirmation of Claire's point, Jack looks like his heart is crumbling to bits in his chest.

“Hang on now, buddy,” Dean continues before the kid can work himself up to a full-blown meltdown. “Your sister's just looking out for you. But she hasn't spent as much time in Lebanon as we have, so she doesn't know that everybody's gonna be expecting you at their houses tonight. I saw Marta at the post office the other day and she said to tell you she's got a jumbo-size 3 Musketeers with your name on it.”

Jack is smiling so wide now it looks like his face is gonna split in half. Dean turns to Claire. “In fact,” he says, eyebrows raised, “I'm absolutely certain no one would mind in the least if Jack brought his big sister out with him this year. Whaddaya say, kiddo? You wanna scam some Kit-Kats with us tonight?”

His daughter likes to think she's a hard-ass, a firmly closed book, but Dean watches the emotions play across her face as she tries and fails to suppress her excitement at the prospect. She's still adjusting to peacetime, to post-hunter life. They all are. He and Cas like to grab every opportunity they can find to let their kids be kids for a change.

Claire is still struggling to find the words that will simultaneously convey both I don't give a shit about anything because I'm a stone cold bitch and yes please please please take me trick or treating tonight but Jack doesn't bother waiting. He grabs his sister's hand and starts tugging her down the hall, free-associating ideas for her costume as they go.

As their voices fade from his hearing, he gets up to freshen his cooling coffee. While he's at the pot, he reaches into the cupboard overhead and pulls out Cas's favorite mug, the sky-blue one with the cartoon bees all over it. He's just tipping a dollop of cream into each cup when his husband shuffles in, looking rumpled and delectable in his bathrobe and ratty slippers.

Dean presses the warm mug into his seeking hand and wraps an arm around his waist.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says with a soft smile. He nuzzles Cas's extravagant bedhead and breathes in the warm smell of the skin behind his husband's ear.

“Good morning, beloved,” comes the rumbled reply. “What were the kids talking about? They seemed agitated about something.”

“Claire's gonna come out with us tonight. Jacky's helping her figure out her costume.”

Cas takes a deep drink of his coffee and hums happily. “That's nice.”

“Mm-hmm. She's super excited about it, but she'd never admit that. Gotta keep up the tough cookie facade.”

“She reminds me of you at that age,” Cas says with a grin.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, I was a tightly-wrapped little basket case back then. Closet case, too, I guess. Took me a lotta years to become who I really am.”

Cas finishes off his coffee and sets his mug on the counter, freeing his hands to pull his husband close. “Indeed,” he rumbles as he starts to trail a line of kisses up Dean's neck. “You've matured into an exemplary father, a wonderful husband, and a magnificent man. And on that note...” Cas's morning stubble rubbing against the thin skin of his throat gives him the shivery tingles, like it always does.

“On that note?” Dean prompts, his voice breathy and tremulous.

“The children will be occupied with their costumes for the next hour or two,” Cas observes. His hands move down to gently cup his husband's ass. “I think you should take me back to bed.”

Dean flashes back for a moment on all of those basket-case years when he was too scared, too exhausted, too repressed, too busy expecting to die at any minute to bother dreaming about a happily ever after for his story. He never could have imagined anything this good, anyway. Safe in his home, warm with the knowledge that his family is nearby, he walks hand in hand with the love of his life back to their room.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fluff #halloween #suptober23

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dollarbin · 1 year ago

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Dollar Bin #24: The Doors

Like every other wishing-he-were-cool Southern California white boy born in the mid-to-late 70's, I had a big Doors phase in 1990. In the year leading up to Oliver Stone's ridiculously silly, TV flinging, film I spent 10 rich months in the following fashion:

First, I copied a friend's father's double CD Door's Greatest Hits collection (the one with Jim Morrison's fabulous pecks on the cover). I was discovering music after comic books and I memorized every glorious moment.

Next, I tracked down the band's four easily accessible full albums via another friend's Costco (or was it still called Price Club at that point?) Nice Price 4 Pack and memorized all of that too, even though I found parts of Waiting For The Sun dull and much of LA Woman sorta gross.

Then, I decided that Not To Touch The Earth was actually their best song and that anyone who only knew the band's greatest hits was a poser.

Next, I enjoyed listening to my father's tall tales about how The Doors had once lived on the strand in Manhattan Beach (my hometown) and were often practicing in their garage when my dad passed by. He also claimed that Morrison had worked for him for one single day as a house painter (my father's trade) but that Jim had been too nuts to keep on the payroll. At other points in my dad's joyful imagination Charles Manson and Ginger Baker had also been on past crews; his lies, which were specifically designed to entertain us, led us to mock and roll our eyes at him when he sincerely claimed that one of his past painters, Robbie Rodgers, actually had gone on to be a relatively successful musician. But then dad scored us tickets and we went to see the dude's Reggae/slasher band, War Called Peace, open for Yellowman; it was totally nuts, and Robbie told us that my dad had changed his life.

After that, I learned of the existence of The Soft Parade and swore to myself that I'd never listen to it. My heroes, horrifyingly, had once SOLD OUT!

Next, I watched Apocalypse Now over and over, daydreaming of the day I'd get my own hands on The End's master tapes and undercover even more of Morrison's Oedipal ranting.

(All the while I had no idea what Oedipal actually meant.)

Throughout it all, I feverishly followed Robert Hilburn's updates in the LA Times on the back and forth on set about whether or not Val Kilmore would sing or lip sync in the upcoming film.

Shortly thereafter, I shook my fist in fury when Billy Idol dared to cover LA Woman. The poser!

That drove me to the library, where I got Riders on the Storm, Jim Densmore's Morrison bio. I read it feverishly, taking mental notes on how I too would one day successfully avoid the draft by demonstrating Morrison-level savvy madness.

Midway through Densmore's self-aggrandizing tome, I bought a copy of Wilderness, Morrison's slim and posthumous published poetry collection, and carried it around with me together with my copy of the Tao Te Ching, convinced that they were the two true holy books. Anyone who thought otherwise I recognized as a poser.

All the while, I spent a lot of time thinking about how Ray Manzarek doubled as the band's bass player and pianist all at the same time on one keyboard. I viewed him as Einstein with a chainsaw.

Somewhere along the way, I sought out an ancient tape copy of a disco sounding album the band made after Jim's death and noted that no one in the band had made meaningful music ever since. And so I grew slightly concerned that maybe my heroes were secretly lame.

But I still stood in line for opening night of the film and smugly mocked everyone else in line with me as a poser. Clearly, none of them knew the secret lyric, edited out, after She Gets! on Break on Through...

And I thought the movie was pretty cool!

Then I proceeded to grow sick of the whole thing - the band and everything about them was suddenly far too mainstream for my superior tastes - and I decided anyone who liked The Doors on any level was a poser. Lou Reed and Bob Dylan were all that mattered.

Then a cool older kid played me Peace Frog and I realized I'd missed a whole album (damn Costco!). So I decided The Doors were cool again for about 15 minutes.

Then, 10 months after the whole thing had started, I moved on for good.

But that's not entirely true. Years and year later, I sang my kids to sleep with The Spy and The Crystal Ship; and I can still can almost recite Morrison's poem about some dude burning leaves. Now that I summon it from the internet and read it again I still think it's pretty great:

A man rakes leaves into

a heap in his yard, a pile,

& leans on his rake &

burns them utterly.

The fragrance fills the forest

children pause & heed the

smell, which will become

nostalgia in several years

But now, I have to ask, how does one even go about listening to The Doors with any objectivity 33 years after they became the world's biggest band for a moment and 50 years after Morrison's death? I mean there's a 15 year old hipster in the high school where I teach who still wears a t-shirt with Morrison on it. I don't know if objectivity can be achieved.

But I'm giving it a shot right now as I write this.

My copy of their debut, self-titled, album is an original print supposedly, and the vinyl sure sounds like it's creeping up on its 60th birthday. Crackling thunder, seemingly borrowed from Riders on the Storm, buzzels and pops throughout. But the whole record sounds great that way, like it too was taken from the Ancient Gallery and WALKED ON DOWN THE HALL!

Fair reader, here's what I think: if I try hard and strip back all the nonsense I know about poor Jim and the band, then I'm left with what is elemental music.

Sure there's some silly stuff to be found: Morrison's lyric "specialize in having fun" from Take It As It Comes is, and always has been, embarrassing, along with basically all the lyrics to Light My Fire. And I don't really know that the organ's drunk circus vibe in Alabama Song holds up.

But listen to Manzarek spill every coin in the band's copious wallet on Take It As It Comes; remember just how cool the wandering guitar intro still is on The End, not to mention the slapping, rippling, pick me up 3/4 of the way through that wandering track; appreciate just how unhinged Morrison's screaming holler is on Back Door Man; ride on the perfect Crystal Ship. And for god's sake, just sit back and listen to Light My Fire.

youtube

What if we simply thought of The Doors alongside their actual peers from 66-71: Love, Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead? What if we slowed down and remembered that the band did everything they did in under 5 years? What if we remembered, at the same time, just how much Stephen Stills still sucks? And what if we set aside for good just how damn magnetic poor Jim was? What if we just listened to The Doors?

I encourage you to give it a shot. Drop the needle on The Doors debut once a season; ride the King's Highway west; catch all the weird scenes in the goldmine. You too will wish The Doors practiced in a garage down your street.

-------------

Update! After posting this, my famous brother sent me this photo of Morrison. He's actually in Manhattan Beach!

I think my father, who, come to think of it, looked a hell of a lot like Morrison at that point, is just outside the frame, striding away after firing his ass. Rest in peace Jim.

#the doors #jim morrison #stephen stills sucks #Youtube

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rightpastnowhere · 1 year ago

Note

Zone of Truth with the twins? >:D

hurt/comfort spell ask meme

so... i know who you meant by "the twins"........ but since you didn't specify in words i am going to be mean >:D

ZONE OF TRUTH: You create a magical zone that guards against deception in a 15-foot-radius sphere centered on a point of your choice within range. Until the spell ends, a creature that enters the spell's area for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there must make a Charisma saving throw. On a failed save, a creature can't speak a deliberate lie while in the radius. You know whether each creature succeeds or fails on its saving throw.

An affected creature is aware of the spell and can thus avoid answering questions to which it would normally respond with a lie. Such creatures can be evasive in its answers as long as it remains within the boundaries of the truth.

also this prompt got way out of control whoopsie. i used this as a warm-up to get back into writing after my very long hiatus, so it's not my best, but i love the twins <3 so here you go!!!

It's dark.

Not dark enough to blind - he has darkvision to thank for that, enough elven blood passed down for that - but dark enough to obscure details, to mess with his sense of where he is. His hands are tied, but not his feet, so theoretically he could try to get up and flee, but-

A panicked whimper, small and quiet, from beside him reminds him why he can't just up and run. They'd taken Leona's glasses, smashing them under heel, and darkvision doesn't amount to shit when your vision's that bad.

"What are we gonna do?" Leona whispers, a shrill string of her voice threading through in her panic, and he doesn't want to snap but she's being too loud. "Mum and Dad don't know where we are, we don't know where we are, we don't know what they want-"

"It's okay, Leo," he hisses, not to scold but just to interrupt - he's switched into elvish, too, just in case none of them speak it. He wishes, more than ever, that he'd paid more attention in any of Mum's other language lessons. "They'll be able to find us. Mum can find anything, remember? Like when Egg dropped her necklace in the garden that one time?"

He can see Leo's eyes when she turns, and meets them as steadily as he can, even knowing that she can't see the details of his face from this close. "It's okay," he whispers again, as fierce and solid as he can. "We'll be okay."

The door to the room they're in opens, allowing a single woman to step through. She walks over slowly, heeled boots clicking on the floor; each click is in time with his heart until the latter picks up pace, gradually running out of sync until his pulse is in his ears.

Breathe. Calm down. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. Dad's voice in his head, Mum's hands on his shoulders, a memory of a panic attack curled between the bookshelves of the family library.

Wolfe is usually one of the first to panic with things like this. He hates to admit it, especially in comparison to his siblings, some older-brother instinct

Leona's hand, somehow having found its way into his, squeezes so tight he feels his knuckles roll together; it hurts, but just enough to ground him.

"Do you know why you're here?" the woman asks, her words scraped at the edges by rough-accented Common.

"Because you brought us here?" The words trip out unbidden, stumbling past his lips in a shaky mockery of his usual snark, and he almost winces. This isn't the time to act smart.

You might want to throw out some cheesy one-liner or whatever to act cool, but it's not worth the risk, his mother's voice chimes from a memory, the three oldest kids sitting in on interrogation training with the newest Grey Hunt recruits. It might seem like a way of keeping the power on your side, but it's just as likely to make your captors even angrier.

Lesson one failed.

Luckily, the woman doesn't rise to the bait; she just chuckles, stepping closer to crouch down in front of them both. He shifts his body best he can, trying to put himself between her and Leona, trying to shield her.

"How cute," she says, "but you know that's not what I meant."

Wolfe swallows thickly.

"You're little de Rolo brats, aren't 'ya?" The woman leans forward, and Wolfe fights the instinctive urge to cower away. "I bet you know alllll sorts of secret entrances and whatnot into the castle, right?"

Shit.

"We never used those," Leona croaks from behind him. "Guess you fucked up and got the wrong kids."

She still manages to sound smug and haughty, even with her voice wobbling with fear. He would be proud in any other circumstance, but now he just holds back a wince, meeting the woman's eyes best he can as she frowns.

"If that's how it's gonna be," she growls, sending a shiver down Wolfe's arms. He feels a mirrored shudder go through his sister, trembling in her hands like an echo.

Another figure steps in through the door, this one cloaked and their face obscured. They're carrying an old, thick tome, and Wolfe has spent enough time around magic users to recognize a spellbook when he sees one.

"I'd just beat the answer out of you," the woman says, far too casual for Wolfe's liking, "but we don't have that kind of time. Your parents will probably catch on soon. So."

The cloaked one begins to murmur under their breath, and Wolfe curls back, bracing himself for whatever is about to hit them. Leona goes tense, squeezing his hand again and burying her face against his shoulder.

He feels the magic as it hits him, but it doesn't hurt. It... it feels like something is pushing at his mind, in his mind, like a Message or a Sending but much, much stronger. Like pushing through a locked door. He thinks to brace himself, somehow, but before he can, the lock is broken, and magic floods through his head.

"Let's try this again." The woman leans closer, too close, he can smell her breath from here. "Do you know where the secret tunnels into the castle are?"

Wolfe tries to say No, with as much force and conviction as when he tried to convince Mum that he hadn't snuck out or that it was Leona who'd pranked the Curator. But when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a choked, strangled sound.

He and Leona tense up at the same time. Zone of Truth.

The woman grins at their realization. "You kids are smart, I'll give'ya that. Now are you smart enough to stay alive?"

Half-truths, his father's voice reminds him, a sudden reminder of an old lesson. Mum had called him paranoid, and Dad had said he was just cautious. If staying silent is too much of a danger, try and get by on half-truths. Don't give away anything that you don't have to.

He scrambles to think of something to say, something that's just true enough to get by. He can't deny the existence of the secret passageways, and he can't say he's never used them... dammit, think think think-

He feels Leona pinch at his hand, breaking his train of thought. He resists the urge to snap at her, wondering what the hell she's getting at, when he remembers the scar that sits right under her thumb and forefinger.

The scar he got from climbing in their bedroom window - or, more specifically, from the tree just outside it that he'd hastily scrambled up to avoid being caught by the guards. The tree that he always climbed to get back in after sneaking out.

Gods, his sister is a fucking genius.

"I've never gotten into the castle using secret entrances," he says, confident and certain, locking eyes with the woman as her lip curls into a snarl. He thinks of his mother, every time Syldor has come to visit; he thinks of his father, every time someone questions the integrity of Whitestone.

He thinks of them both as they tell him, be brave.

The woman growls, and he does not flinch. She doesn't do anything, just turns to his sister, and somehow that is harder to stay strong in the face of.

"What about you?" the woman hisses. "You gonna be more useful to us?"

He feels Leona's hand tighten around his before she says, "I've never used them in my life."

Wolfe swallows down a shocked noise, because yes the fuck she has. Leona was the first one of the twins to discover them - she'd been tailing Vesper through the halls, and turned a corner to find their older sister had disappeared. Leona used them far more than Wolfe did, even if it was mostly for traveling within the castle than getting out of it.

But if she was able to say that, bold-faced, then... she must have resisted the spell. Leona, with the lowest constitution out of all of the family, managed to resist the spell.

Holy shit.

The woman snarls again, but turns her ire to the cloaked figure instead. "Did your stupid fucking spell even work?"

"I - I knew I felt it catch, but I..." The cloaked figure pulls out the spell book again and hastily flips through it, ripping at least one page along the way.

He never gets a chance to find it; there's two arrows through his neck before he can, and his book falls to the ground only a second before he does. The woman barely has a chance to draw the crude-looking axe from behind her back before the crack of a gun fills the air, and her head bursts into a bright-red spray. Wolfe cringes back instinctively, and covers his face with his arm as well, but that's more to spare his own eyes from the gorey details.

Footsteps rush into the room, and Wolfe feels a gentle hand on his cheek - his mother's, from the uneven pattern of leather-covered and bare fingers, a signature of her archery gloves - and lowers his arm at her frantic voice calling his name.

She's kneeling in front of him, with her other hand a mirror on Leona's face, and Wolfe smiles in relief. He feels tears prick at his eyes when she sweeps a thumb across his cheekbone. "Hi, Mum," he chokes out, his throat thick with a building sob.

Leona echoes him, sounding similarly fragile, and their mother's face crumples into a shaky smile, her own eyes welling up with tears. "Hello, darlings."

Dad runs up just behind her, looking even more fraught than when Gwen had gone missing with one of his guns. "Are you two alright? Are you hurt?" He falls to his knees beside Mum, and Wolfe winces, thinking of his bad knee.

"We're fine, Dad," Leona says, her voice a little stronger. "I just can't fucking see."

Wolfe surprises himself with how loud he laughs. Maybe it's the stress of the situation, but something about Leona taking advantage of being actually fucking kidnapped to swear in front of their parents without consequences - because he knows they're going to be too relieved to have them back to lecture her, of course they are - just fucking breaks him.

Then Mum starts laughing too, and Dad looks at her the most bewildered Wolfe's ever seen, and that just makes him laugh even louder.

#okay so it's a lot of hurt and not a lot of comfort. oops.#wolfe de rolo #leona de rolo #perc'ahlia #critical role #percival de rolo #vex'ahlia de rolo #perc’ahlia #vex’ahlia #perc'ahlia children #the de rolo family #vox machina #blorbologist #I'M SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING LONG LMAO #nova writes

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isca-rambles · 3 months ago

Text

6x09 aka you've got this just two more episodes left and each one has a great Chenford moment so it's on the up and up now. We've hit rock bottom, we can do this; says the very stable woman to herself. Grey is such a good protective dad. Tim, please. Honey. Okay so it's Lucy's birthday and aside from that card from Tim and Aaron's mention of a present, she gets literally nothing else. Maybe there's something off-screen. But nothing from John? He just waltzes in, there for Celina, and just not a little hap birf? He asks how she is and obviously didn't expect her to be honest. Doesn't offer her a hug or pat on the shoulder. A sympathetic 'I'm sorry, you've been through a lot lately, hey let's go get drinks and catch up after shift'. You're meant to be her friend, John. Agh. Okay, Angela earns points back for telling Lucy. She knows Lucy has been left out of so much and knows Lucy still cares about Tim. Hell, she knows Lucy still loves him. So Angela knows how important it is that Lucy know what happened this time. So yes, Angela, you get points back. Kudos. Also the fact that she seems to tell Lucy but Wesley wasn't aware? Or maybe he's surprised she's telling Lucy? Idk. And can I just with the sweet way Lucy says hi when she answers the phone? Actual sushine. No-one deserves her. No-one. Maybe Kojo but no-one else. But yes, Angela is slightly back in my good books for that. And a good mirror for telling Tim back in S2 about Lucy at the speed dating having a moment. Because she thought he'd want to know. Detective Lopez will always be the captain of this ship. I was ready to mutiny but I'll trust her at the helm a little longer. I need some Chenford teasing from her in S7 when she seems them back in a better place though. God, Lucy's face when Tim calls Nolan and not her. And it's because he's his union rep, Lucy knows that, but you can still see that hurt. Also, Nolan, where the fuck was her union rep during the shooting? HUH?! HUH?! Ahem. Charlie you're better than this client. Also Monica that dress might look vaguely fashionable but that is not a comfortable dress. At all. Not even like 1% comfortable. C'mon. Also your offices look like shit. Blair, I have zero pity for you. You absolutely deserve whatever comes your way. Do they have zero cameras in the parking lot? Or anywhere? Don't you go after Grey you asshole! Gaaah. Must protect my fictional babies. Baby Jackson is adorable as heck. I imagine invisible baby girl Wopez is too. God, Lucy is just too good for this world. She has so much resentment and anger and guilt and anxiety and pain inside of her and she pushes past it all to check on Tim. She knows he's going through hell and it's killing her to not to be able to support him. She knows, at the very least, he needs a hug. And Lucy hugs are magical.

Can we talk about Tim's face? He looks terrified. I also want to hazard that there is the barest hint of hope. For a second I really think he thought she might try to kiss him. Or maybe just hoped. It wouldn't have been good for either of them, but there's probably a part of him dying for her to kiss him. Just for a second. But the hug. Oh god the hug. He melts into it instantly. No hesitation. He's in her arms and surrounding her body with his own and he is gone. He's safe. It's a fleeting moment but he is safe. His eyes are closed and he just sinks into her so completely. "I am now" Oh my god. The way their voices both shake. The way she holds him even tighter and closes her eyes. For a second they can both forget the past few weeks/months ever happened. They're together and they're in each other's arms - the safest they've ever felt. And they both leave the hug at the same time. No-one initiates it ending. They're in sync and holding contact that extra secons. She fixes his collar. She's so gentle with him. Like she needs to be touching him too. The hug isn't just for him. She needs to know he's okay. Angela's eyes instantly going to Lucy when the door opens and staying on Lucy until Nyla takes her away. Also, girls, you're both still minus points for how you've treated Lucy. You can't go ignoring her after the detective's exam and everything else and then go dragging her into your UC op. Admit you need her. Admit you respect her. Admit she's good. Make it up to her. Got it? Good. Continue. Celina, absolute cutie. Also I will say fair play to Nolan for doing this for Tim. Wish we could see the same commitment to Lucy but I guess if situations were reversed then I'm sure everyone would go to bat for Lucy. They just let her down when it comes to her personal life and supporting her as a person. God I'd love to see them all go to bat for her. Nell! Oh, I read the best fic about Lucy and Tim sort of getting back together at Nell's wedding. We need a Nell wedding so we can have another Chenford dance please and thank you. How are you with kids? Nyla, stop breaking my headcanon of Lucy babysitting Lila and being an absolute angel around the station babies. Stop it. Also, minus points for both of you for not even giving Lucy the barest of sympathetic smiles or shoulder pats after she tells you about her still feeding her UC covers because she thought she'd make detective. The sad little smile when she tries to push aside her own feelings and disappointment. Because she doesn't want to burdern anyone with her feelings. MINUS POINTS. Bad friends! Bad colleagues! Charlie, can you just do a bad job at protecting Monica? Please? Can we have a Celina seance fic, please? God Lucy is so good at UC. Also my god how can she look so good in literally every outfit and with every hairstyle? Also those kids are fucking adorable. Lucy underselling her language skills for a UC cover because then they'd be sus at how perfect she is. Any fics where Tim finds out Lucy's gone UC at Bautista's and goes a little feral on Angela and Nyla because there's a leak in the station and her cover could already be blown? Though at this point I don't think Lopez and Harper are aware of that, but still, he's doing a frantic spiral. That he didn't get to speak to her beforehand. That he has no involvement in her UC op and he's terrified of being in the dark about it? Grey raising his voice YES. Oscar I'm enjoying you a lot less because you're always attached to Monica now. Sorry. Lucy literally an amazing babysitter. She is actually the best. Ugh. Monica. Just leave. I would happily trade a million Bailan scenes to have no more Monica. Wanna say thank you to Lucy for risking everything going undercover again with Monica fully aware of who she is? No? Minus points, ladies. Smitty, just hold onto your phone. Please. The bare minimum. Blair, shut up. Never wanted anyone to get hurt. Bullshit.

#isca rambles #isca prompts

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deancodedinthewater · 1 year ago

Text

Faith Part 1

The Road So Far

“Saving people. Hunting things. It’s our family business.”

“This is John Winchester,” said their Dad’s recorded voice. “I can’t be reached. If this is an emergency, call my- call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

"Dad's on a hunting trip," Dean said. "And he hasn't been home in a few days."

“I am normal,” Sam snapped. “I’m just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we here?” Sam threw his hands up, gesturing at the asylum as a whole. “Because you-” He glared down at Dean. “-are following Dad’s orders like the good little soldier you have always been. You always do what dad says - without question - because you’re scared? Scared he’ll see you as the little girl he always wanted?” He shook his head and paced away. “Are you really that desperate for his approval?”

The shotgun dropped into the trunk and Sam slammed it closed. “We got work to do,” he said. Dean would have answered him but the words dried in his throat.

NOW

Dean pulled up outside the abandoned house they had tracked this creature to and Sam glanced over at him. They both nodded and moved, in sync, to the trunk. Dean pulled out two tasers and handed Sam one. Sam held it with the prongs facing away from both of them.

“What do you have these amped up to?”

“Max,” Dean replied. “And then some. Jerry-rigged them to a hundred thousand.”

“Damn,” was all Sam could say in response to that.

“Yeah,” Dean said as he slammed the trunk shut. He gave Sam a shit eating grin. “We’re frying this Rawhead extra fucking crispy. And remember-”

“One shot. Make it count,” Sam finished, rolling his eyes. Sam followed Dean inside, both of them holding their tasers ready in one hand and their flashlights in the other.

As they slowly descended the stairs Sam heard a scuffling sound. He glanced at Dean, who was already giving him an urgent look. Confirming he had heard it too. Dean pointed to a cupboard not far from the bottom of the stairs. Sam nodded and they inched their way towards it.

Dean placed a hand on the door of the cupboard and held his free hand up with three fingers raised. Sam nodded, holding his taser ready. Dean put down one finger. He put down the next. On the third finger he threw the door open and revealed two kids huddled together, covering their heads. Both startled and looked up at them with wide eyes.

“Is it still here?” Sam whispered, lowering his taser. The girl pushed herself in front of her brother and nodded.

“Close,” she whispered back. Her brother nodded behind her.

“Ok,” Dean said, just as quietly. He looked over the girl’s shoulder and addressed her brother. “You take your sister’s hand.” He looked at the girl. “Do not let go. Come one, we are getting you out of here.” He gestured for the kids to exit the cupboard. “Let’s go. Let’s go.”

As they moved towards the stairs, Sam stayed as close to the kids as he could manage. Watching in every direction, ready for an attack. They were half way up the stairs when a hand wrapped around his shin and pulled, knocking him off his feet. Sam’s hands came up to shield his face as he hit the steps. He heard the children scream and run the rest of the way up.

“Sam!” Dean yelled from somewhere. He heard his taser fire but nothing connected. It was enough to distract the Rawhead though and Sam pushed himself to his feet. “Sam, get them out of here!” Dean pointed to the top of the stairs where the girl was shielding her brother but both were watching, faces frozen in horrified curiosity.

Sam tossed Dean his taser. “Here, take this!” he yelled before turning heel and taking the stairs three at a time.

He herded the children outside and then into the backseat of the Impala.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he told them. “There’s some water in the footwell. Some cereal bars too. Help yourselves.”

“What about you?” the boy asked, still gripping his sister’s hand like his life depended on it.

“I gotta help my brother,” he said. The girl nodded. She bent over to start routing through the footwell. Sam shut the door and ran back into the house.

He jogged down the stairs just in time to hear Dean’s taser activate. He heard the dying cry of the Rawhead and then Dean screamed. Sam picked up his pace. What he found in the basement was a fried Rawhead, wild hair even wilder now and flesh charred black in places, and Dean, unconscious and still twitching.

“Dean!” Sam yelled. He dropped to his knees next to his brother and, before touching anything else, made sure the taser was inactive. With that confirmed he grabbed Dean’s face and verified he was still breathing. The breaths were thin and ropey, but Dean was alive. “Dean,” Sam repeated, much quieter this time. “Hey, hey.” Dean did not respond.

Sam could not tell you how he got himself, his unconscious brother, the two kids, and the Impala to a hospital without causing a pile up. He had made a mad dash for the nearest hospital as soon as he had managed to get Dean in the car. The kids had stayed quiet in the back, probably because he was traumatising them on top of the fact they were nearly eaten alive that night.

However he had done it, Sam was there now. He’d checked the kids in and their parents had been called and as he did that he watched them wheel his brother away. Dean had been in such rough shape when Sam had carried him through the door that the receptionist had immediately called for a gurney.

Now, without the kids to worry about, Sam stood by the receptionist’s desk and gave over their (entirely fake) details.

“I am so sorry that I have to ask this,” the receptionist said. And she really looked apologetic. “Do you have insurance? There doesn’t seem to be any on file.”

“Right, yeah,” Sam said. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a (entirely fake) health insurance card. He handed it over.

The receptionist gave him a sympathetic smile and glanced at the card. “Okay, Mr Burkovitz,” she said. “We’ll get this squared up for you.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied, somewhat in a daze. He turned, feet like lead, and started to make his way over to the waiting room when two cops approached him. He’d spoken to them already. He was pretty sure.

“Look,” said one of them. “We can finish this up later.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Sam insisted. “We were just taking a shortcut through the neighbourhood. Our windows were rolled down. And, um we heard screaming as we drove past the house. My brother insisted we check it out so we stopped and ran in.”

“And you found the kids in the basement?” asked the other. Sam confirmed this. “Well, thank God you did.”

Sam nodded and over the cops shoulders he saw a Doctor making his way over. “Excuse me,” he said to the cops and they glanced in the direction he was looking and nodded.

“Sure,” said the first. “Thanks for your help.” Sam nodded again and met the Doctor as he approached.

“Hey, Doc,” he said, somewhere between hopeful and hopeless. “Is he...” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“She’s resting.” Sam flinched on his brother’s behalf.

“And?”

The Doctor sighed through his nose. “The electrocution triggered a heart attack,” he explained. “Pretty massive, I’m afraid. Her- sorry his heart... it’s damaged.”

Sam frowned at him. Damaged could mean so much. “How damaged?”

“We’ve done all we can,” the doctor said. “Short of a heart transplant and the waitlist would be too long. All we can do at this point is try and keep him comfortable. I’d give he-him a month at most.”

“No,” Sam said. And then again. “No. There has to- There’s gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment.”

The Doctor gave him a sympathetic look. “We can’t work miracles,” he said. “I really am sorry.” Sam walked away, not sure if he wanted to punch something or cry.

Dean flicked through channels on the TV. The hand holding the remote was flat to the bed and it took almost all of his effort to even press the buttons. He felt like utter crap and probably looked like it too. When Sam stepped into the room Dean couldn’t muster the energy to move his eyes so he just stared at the TV.

“You ever watch daytime TV?” he mumbled, barely making a sound. He’d sign if his arms didn’t feel like they weighed a million tonnes. “Terrible.”

Sam shook his head, sighing. “I talked to your Doctor.”

An advert started and Dean tried to growl at it but his throat wouldn’t even let him do that. “That fabric softener teddy bear,” he grumbled. “Oh, I’m gonna hunt that little bitch down.”

“Dean,” Sam said and Dean mustered enough energy to actually look at his brother. Sam didn’t look much better than Dean felt. He clicked the TV off and sighed.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Alright, well-” He was stalling. He knew he was stalling. “-looks like you’re gonna leave town without me.”

Sam flinched as if the words caused him physical pain. Which was kinda rude given the words actually gave Dean physical pain. “What are you talking about?” Sam said, in that way little brother’s did. Or at least, that way Dean’s little brother did. Pleading. And he was doing that thing. Those damn puppy eyes. “I’m not gonna leave you here, Dee.” And the goddamn nickname. What did he think Dean could do?

“Hey, you better take care of that car,” Dean said, trying to make light of the situation. “Or, I swear, I’ll haunt your ass.”

“I don’t think that’s funny.”

“Oh, come on,” Dean said, forcing his voice to not rasp. “It’s a little funny.”

Sam’s head dropped. He was trying to hide the fact he was fighting tears. Dean knew anyway. The kid had always done that when he was trying not to cry. Suddenly Dean was reminded of the time he had broken his arm. He’d been 10 at the time and little six year old Sammy had dragged his ass all the way to the nearest hospital. His head had been down like that then too.

The silence dragged on as Dean got lost in the memory. Smiling to himself despite everything.

“Look, Sammy,” he eventually said, breaking the silence and the memory. “What can I say man, it’s a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That’s it. End of story.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Sam said, a tear dripping off of the end of his nose as he whipped his head upwards. “We still have options!”

“What options?” Dean scoffed and then coughed. “Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it’s not easy. But I am going to die. And you cannot stop it.” Dean gave his brother a hard look. He wasn’t sure why. It’s not like Sam could actually stop death or anything.

“Watch me,” Sam said with as much force as his final fight with their Dad before he left for college.

Sam sat on his bed and spread out everything he had found on Dean’s. Heart care. Witch Doctors. Faith healers. Magic. Anything that might be able to help Dean. He cradled his phone in his hands and then dialled their Dad’s number. Sam pressed the phone to his ear and waited.

It rang through.

“This is John Winchester,” said their Dad’s recorded voice for God knows how many times now. “I can’t be reached. If this is an emergency, call my- call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help.”

This time, Sam left a message. “Hey, Dad,” he said, his voice cracking as he fought down tears. “It’s Sam. Uh... you probably won’t even get this, but- it’s- it’s Dean.” Sam took a deep breath. Tried to compose himself. “He’s sick and the doctors say there’s nothing they can do. But they- they don’t know what we know, right? So, don’t worry, I’m gonna fix this. Do whatever it takes to make him better. Alright... just wanted to let you know.”

He hung up and threw his phone down on his pillow. Sam stared at the piles of paper on the bed in front of him and just fought the urge to cry. He needed to do this. Dean could not die. Not yet.

Someone knocked on the door and then opened it. Sam looked up, frown already wrinkling his forehead before he even saw Dean. Dean leant against the door jam with a crutch tucked under each arm. He looked worse than when Sam had last seen him and that was saying something.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Sam asked not sure if he was happy, sad, confused or angry.

“I checked myself out,” Dean said, hobbling away from the door.

“Are you crazy?”

Dean leant on everything he could reach as he made his way across the room towards Sam. Sam stood to meet him, shutting the door as he moved to support Dean. “I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.” Dean shrugged, nearly dropping his crutches.

“You know, this whole ‘I laugh in the face of death’ thing?” Sam asked. “I can see right through it.”

“Yeah, whatever dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me.”

Sam helped Dean lower himself into a chair before he answered. “I’ve been scouring the internet for the last three days,” he explained, gesturing towards the piles of paper spread across Dean’s bed. As he did, he realised the papers had also migrated across his own. Both beds were practically covered in scraps and sheets and newspapers. “I’ve called every contact in Dad’s journal.”

Dean frowned at him. “For what?”

“For a way to help you,” Sam answered with a half shrug. “One of Dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist.”

Dean sighed. “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?”

“I’m not gonna let you die, period,” Sam insisted, crossing his arms and glaring down at Dean. Dean whose skin was so pale it was translucent. Dean who was wearing a hoodie for perhaps the first time in his life. “We’re going.” Sam crossed the room and started shoving his papers into his duffle.

Dean had fallen asleep on the drive more than once. Which was not like him. It wasn’t like him to not be driving. He didn’t like that. He missed driving already and it hadn’t even been a full week yet. When Sam turned on to a rutted gravel road, barely a dirt track, Dean grit his teeth on every bump. He wasn’t sure what pained him most: Sammy driving his Baby on such an awful piece of road or the jarring sensation of each bump. He decided it was probably the damage being done to his car.

Sam pulled up in a makeshift car park set up next to a large white tent. People meandered between the parked cars towards the tent: a mix of people with walkers, in wheelchairs or unassisted. Dean stared out of his window with a blank expression, too exhausted to emote properly. Sam got out and ran around the car, prompting Dean to start struggling his way out of the car.

As he stood, Dean took in the tent and its large sign. ‘The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle.’ Dean scoffed and then grimaced as he heaved himself upright with one hand on the door.

“I got you,” Sam said, reaching his hands towards Dean.

“I got it,” Dean growled as he pushed Sam away. “You are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor?”

“What I said was ‘specialist’,” Sam said, wincing slightly. Dean shook his head. “Look, Dean, this guy’s supposed to be the real deal.”

“I can’t believe you brought me out to the middle of fucking nowhere to watch some weirdo pretend to heal people in a tent.”

An elderly lady pushed past Sam, nearly taking his eye out with her umbrella. “Reverend LeGrange is a great man,” she insisted.

Dean gave her a fake smile that probably looked like death. “Ain’t that nice?” They kept walking.

“I have a right to protest,” A man said as he tried to get past a cop. “This man is a fraud! And he’s milking all these people out of their hard-earned money.”

As they passed the cop spoke “Sir, this is a place of worship. Let’s go. Move it.”

“I take it he’s not part of the flock?” Dean asked as he nodded his head towards the protestor.

“When people see something they can’t explain,” Sam said by way of an answer. “There’s controversy.”

“I mean, come on Sam, a faith healer?”

“Maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean,” Sam answered with a shrug. Dean jabbed his foot with one of his crutches. It didn’t do much as Sam’s boots were steel toe capped and Dean was weak as shit.

“You know what I’ve got faith in?” Dean asked as he kept swinging forwards on his crutches. “Reality. Knowing what’s really going on.”

“How can you be a sceptic? With the things we see everyday?”

“Exactly,” Dean responded, letting go of one of his crutches so he could point a finger gun at Sam. “We see them, we know they’re real!”

“But if you know there’s evil out there, how can you not believe good’s out there too?”

“Because,” Dean said, wrapping his fists around his crutches so tight his knuckles went white. “I’ve seen what evil does to good people.”

A young woman behind them piped in with her own opinion. “Maybe God works in mysterious ways.”

Dean turned, unashamedly checking her out as he did. “Maybe he does,” he said, attempting a flirtatious smile and hoping it didn’t just make him look more dead. “I think you just turned me around on the subject.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the woman said, sceptically.

“I’m Dean,” Dean said, holding out a hand for her to shake as he wedged his crutch under his elbow. “This is Sam.”

“Layla,” she said as she took his hand. “So if you’re not a believer, then why are you here?”

“Well, apparently, my brother here believes enough for the both of us.”

An older woman came up behind Layla and wrapped an arm around her. “Come on, Layla,” she said, gently guiding Layla towards the tent. “It’s about to start.” Both women smiled at Sam and Dean as they entered the tent.

“I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways,” Dean said with a half hearted laugh. He saw Sam roll his eyes out of the corner of his own. They entered the tent.

Inside there was another sign. ‘Welcome All Faiths. True Believers Revival.’ Dean scoffed at it.

Dean looked around as they made their way down the aisle. He tilted his head when he caught sight of something in the corner. “Yeah, peace, love and trust all over,” he said, nodding at the camera. Sam followed his gaze but didn’t say anything.

“No, come on,” Sam said as he grabbed Dean’s arm when he went to sit down.

“Don’t!” Dean snapped and Sam immediately let go. Dean stood back up. “What are you doing? Let’s sit here.”

“We’re sitting up front.”

“What? Why?”

Sam started to shift them further down the aisle. “Come on.” Dean growled at him. “You alright?” Sam asked, turning worried eyes on him.

“This is ridiculous,” Dean complained, slapping Sam’s hovering hands away. “I’m good dude, get off me.”

Sam held his hands up in surrender and then pointed to two seats just a little further down the aisle, behind Layla and her mother. “Perfect,” he said.

“Yeah, perfect,” Dean repeated, his words dripping with sarcasm. Sam moved to sit down and then tried to help Dean into his seat. Dean shoved him away, irritable, settling himself down as he glared at Sam.

A woman led a blind man up to a lectern on stage. The man was wearing dark shades and he fumbled as he tried to settle his hands on to the sides of the lectern. Once he was sure he had set himself up correctly, he began to speak.

“Every morning,” he said, projecting his voice to the very back of the tent. “My wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?” Some of the crowd murmured their agreement. Dean just silently folded his arms and tried to shrink himself down into his hoodie. “Seems like there’s always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.”

Dean glared straight ahead but out of the corner of his eyes he caught Sam with his case finding face on.

“But, I say to you,” Reverend LeGrange continued. “God is watching.” The crowd murmured their agreement once more. “God rewards the good and He punishes the corrupt! It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people’s hearts.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered to Sam. “And into their wallets.”

“You think so, young man?” the reverend said, directly to Dean. The mumbling of the crowd immediately died down.

“Sorry,” Dean said, trying to shrink further into his hoodie.

“No, no. Don't be” said Reverend LeGrange. “Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears.” The crowd laughed. “What’s your name, son?”

“Dean.”

“Dean,” the reverend repeated, nodding to himself. “I want- I want you to come up here with me.” The crowd clapped. Dean did not move. The woman, presumably Sue Ann, moved to centre stage and held a hand up towards Dean.

“No, it’s okay.”

“What are you doing!?” Sam whispered frantically.

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t you?” the reverend asked.

“Well, yeah,” Dean said, fidgeting in his seat but still not standing. “But ahhh- maybe you should pick someone else.”

“Oh no, I didn’t pick you Dean. The Lord did.” The crowd cheered. Dean still did not move.

Sam shoved him. “Get up there!” Reluctantly, Dean pushed himself to his feet and made his way up to the stage. Sue Ann met him at the steps and offered assistance. She led him up till he stood next to Reverend LeGrange.

“You ready?” asked the reverend.

“No disrespect,” Dean said. “But I ain’t exactly a believer.”

“You will be, son. You will be.” He turned away from Dean. “Pray with me, friends.” The crowd lifted their arms up and joined hands. Roy lifted his own and then dropped them on to Dean: one on his head and the other on his shoulder. “Alright now. Alright now.”

Dean’s vision blurred and his knees went weak. He dropped first to one and then to both with the reverend’s hand still pressed to the side of his head. Dean felt suddenly woozy. His vision went black and he pitched forwards.

Sam launched himself out of his seat and towards the stage. “Dean!” He grabbed the front of Dean’s hoodie and shook. Dean blinked his eyes open. “Say something!”

Behind Sam, stood with the reverend, was a tall pale man. He wore a suit. Before Dean could get a better look at him, he disappeared. Dean watched the spot he had been in in shock.

Masterpost

#faith #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #spn season 1 #spn rewrite #trans dean winchester #bisexual dean winchester #sam winchester #isaac come get yall sick dean #transnatural #fanfic #i'd rather have you queued or not

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lizzieandderekshepherd · 5 months ago

Text

Little Doctors

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

I kept swaying my teddy back and fourth as I listened to papa on the phone to the chief through the car. Normally me and Delia wouldn't be going to work with him, but it's the school holidays and mama is currently doing an important scene today so no children are allowed on set unfortunately.

Mama was going to reschedule it for another time so she could have us, but dad assured her that he would be able to handle it, only to now find out he has a four hour operation due.

"Okay girls here's the plan," papa announces, keeping his focus on the road still. "While I'm in the OR you guys can spend some time with auntie Addie, hopefully everything runs steadily today so it shouldn't be a problem."

Delia cheers excitedly at the news. I know she loves auntie Addie the most out of all of papa's coworkers, so this is great news for her, and me too!

"You both okay with that?" Papa asks, looking back at us both quickly for our approval before regaining his focus on the road again. Mama would have scolded him for that. Me and Delia nod in sync.

As we get out of the car, I jump up onto papa's back and he uses his free hand to hold Delia's. We go into the hospital and see Addison stood near the entrance, a coffee in one hand and her jacket in the other. She's talking to Mark.

"Woah full house today I see." Mark chuckles, leaning over and giving both me and Delia a high five, Delia immediately running into Addison's arms to be picked up. "Yeah, Liz is really busy today so I get the pleasure of looking after these two monkeys."

"Well actually about that..." Papa trails off, looking up at auntie Addie with a knowing look. "Derek you know I'd love too, but I myself am really busy!" Addison emphasises, staring at dad in disbelief as she already knows what he's wanting, Delia copying her expression and shaking her head.

"Come on, when do I ever ask you for a favour like this?" Daddy pleads and Addison sighs again. "Like every other day!"

"Addison please, how can you resist that face?" Papa points to Delia who's pouting up at auntie Addie pleadingly with her special puppy eyes. "Oh alright, only because I love them, not you."

Dad thanks Addison gratefully before handing her our shared backpack of toys and snacks mama prepared for us this morning. Papa steadily heads to the elevator before she changes her mind, with me still on his back. I playfully cover his mouth with my hands as we do so.

Delia stays with auntie Addie, probably going to go up the stairs with her. Papa keeps trying to talk to me but his voice is muffled by my hands, which I find is greatly amusing.

As the elevator door opens, Dr Bailey is there waiting at the desk with a clipboard and pen. "Ah, Dr Bailey!" Daddy greets to her, his voice muffled from my hands.

Dr Bailey shakes her head at papa before looking up at me with a sweet smile. "Shepherd this better not be a distraction today, you know you've got a busy schedule ahead of you."

Daddy quickly pulls my hands away from his mouth so I revert them to his eyes instead. "Oh don't worry, I've got it covered." Dad lets out a loud laugh as points up to where my hands are covering his sight. "No pun intended."

Dr Bailey rolls her eyes at his joke, flashing me a reassuring wink before leaving. Just then Delia and auntie Addie come up the stairs, Dee holding onto her hand.

I slide down daddy's back, running up to auntie Addie to give her a hug. "Alright I better get to work, thank you again for this Addison, page me if there's any issues. Bye babies, be good!" Papa then rushes off to go start work.

For the next half hour we sit together in papa's office, Dee sat on auntie Addison's lap as she brushes her hair while I lay across the floor with my stuffed animals. Just as Addison finishes putting Delia's hair into a cute braid, her pager goes off. "Oh shoot, I gotta go. Delia, honey, watch your sister for me I'll be back as soon as I can!"

Addison leaves us both alone and I look at Dee with a puzzled look. "She'll be back soon Sunny, don't worry." Dee assures me, taking a seat next to me on the floor.

We both wait and wait and wait for either auntie Addie or papa to come back, but neither of them do. "Come on, let's go find them." Delia then suggests after a while, standing up and offering me a hand. We both know better than to go wondering off alone in the hospital, but mama wouldn't be happy with us both being unsupervised either.

Dee holds onto my hand tightly as we walk through the rushing crowds. We came down to the trauma Center where we assumed papa will probably be but with all the commotion going on there must've been an accident. "DeeDee I think they might be busy." I say to her quietly as we are both huddled into a corner, the sight of bloody patients being wheeled past us making us both queazy. Nothing too graphic of course.

Delia, Sunny what are you doing down here?!" Papa yells in frustration, kneeling down to our height after noticing us. "We were looking for you!" Dee says, beginning to get upset with all the noise going on. "Okay, it's okay." Daddy repeats softly, cupping both of our faces before calling over a nurse to take us back upstairs.

"I'll come find you as soon as I can, don't leave the front desk, okay?" Papa shouts to us as he is being practically dragged into one of the rooms by Sloane.

Me and Dee follow the nurse to the front desk, only to be left yet again as soon as we get there. If mom was here, she would be livid. "We can't just stand around and do nothing we gotta help papa, DeeDee!" I tug on my older sister's sleeve desperately as she looks around cluelessly.

"Sunny, dad told us to stay here. He will come get us as soon as he's finished."

"Delia please!" I whine again and it doesn't take much to bribe my sister into sneaking into the storage room to get some scrubs. We both dress up, the scrubs being large on us both but I think we look pretty good. "We're just like papa now." Delia giggles, twirling around in the scrubs, me doing the same.

We then head into an empty medical examination room with a free bed. I make Delia lay down first to examine her, just incase she caught any bugs from the trauma bay. I lift up her sleeves after feeling her forehead, just to go on with my check up. "Oh no!" I gasp.

"What? What is it?" My older sister asks with anticipation and I lift up her arm to reveal a rash. "Oh mama saw that last night, she said it's nothing to worry about-"

I quickly cut her off and shake my head. "Nuh uh, that's a sign of an airborne fungal infection, you must've caught it from the trauma bay. Everyone else was wearing scrubs and we weren't, luckily I survived it but I don't think you were so lucky..." I dramatically announce to my sister, not really having any idea what im talking about just wanting to sound professional and make papa proud.

Delia tears up, clutching onto her arm in fear. "I want mama!"

"No DeeDee it's okay, I know what we have to do. Stay right here." I tap her reassuringly on the head before walking over to a set of drawers with lots of medical supplies in. I go through them all, getting out lots of bandages then finding an untouched scalpel in the bottom drawer.

"We have to amputate the infected limb otherwise you could become septic and die." I tell my older sister, holding up the scalpel in the air and walking back over to her. In all truthfulness, I have no idea what im doing or saying. It's just some of the things I've overheard while being here with papa.

"What does that mean?!" Delia cries out loud and I shrug in response. "Just trust me sis, I know what I'm doing, we can always find you a cool robot arm as a substitute."

"No you don't know what you're doing! Don't chop my arm off!" Dee yells again, beginning to become more scared by the second. I don't blame her I wouldn't like getting my arm chopped off either.

"It's okay DeeDee you can trust me, just close your eyes." As I hold up the scalpel again, Delia let's out a loud scream and I suddenly jump back in fright, the door swinging open to reveal both mama and papa.

"Sophia Shepherd drop that scalpel right now!" They both bellow in sync and immediately I drop the scalpel and cover my ears. Mama rushes over to Delia, pulling her into her lap as she takes a seat on the bed and begins comforting her. Papa kissing her hand as she cuddles into mama.

"I don't wanna get my arm cut off!" She cries again, mama reassuring her that her arm is perfectly fine. I guess that means I was wrong. "Sophia what you were thinking?!" Papa shouts, picking up the scalpel from the floor and tossing it aside. "You could've really hurt your sister and yourself with that." He says again in a harsh tone and I just frown, adjusting the large scrub cap that's hanging off my head.

" “And where did you get these?" He asks, looking between me and Delia in confusion as to where we got the scrubs in the first place. "Locker room!" I say proudly, only for my smile to fade as soon as I see his face of disappointment.

"We just wanted to be like you papa." I mumble, leaning my head into his shoulder as he shares a look with mama, her still holding and comforting Dee in attempts to calm her down.

After another lecture about how dangerous scalpels are and wondering around the hospital alone is, we finally gather our things back together and head out to the car. Delia stayed on mama's hip the whole time while I wondered aimlessly behind dad.

Mom and dad weren't arguing as such, just mama giving him a lecture of his own for assuring her we where going to be well looked after, only to be unattended to for the rest of the day. Apparently auntie Addie had to rush to an emergency C-section, as well as dealing with some of the trauma patients that came in as well, so she's been quite busy. It was wrong of him to put his stress on her. There luckily wasn't as many head injuries today so papa doesn't have to stay behind.

"Derek, just promise me the next time you look after our children you'll actually look after them instead of just leaving them. I don't care how busy you are, you're their father and so it is your responsibility to make sure they're safe." Mama rambles on as she places a sleeping DeeDee into her seat. Dad nods in agreement, waiting for mom to stand back up properly to lean over and peck her lips.

"I promise. I'm sorry honey, it won't happen again."

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