#and they share custody but his father has a bigger hand in it —> easier time to shape your only son however you like it

[feketeribizli]

what did little baby karting marci look like/act like?

he was sooo small 🥹 little bundle of excitement!

i feel like this whole thing for him would start with his father living vicariously through him (imagine youre four years old and your dad takes you to track and you have a fun afternoon karting around and on the way home he asks you if you would wanna do this for the rest of your life and youre four years old and you really liked karting so you say yeah sure and boom. fifteen years later youre testing for a formula one car) but despite everything marci is really fond of what he has and wouldnt trade his career for anything

the type of lad that starts out one apple tall (thropies as big as him...) then grows into the lankiest dude youve ever seen. he was also a lot more energetic and excitable and expressive... pressure may have turned him inside out over the years but it didnt crush his faggish charm!

[omgkalyppso]

for fae and the rest of the poly - 💕💖💍

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ Thank you for the ask! May your favorite kind of weather surround you soon!

💕 Describe an ideal date form them!

Claude is quick on his feet and can adapt, but he doesn't like doing anything he hasn't planned five exits to and at least two alternatives for. Hilda doesn't enjoy exerting herself, but she's still extroverted enough to want to be admired Doing Something (if only by her partners) and can easily be goaded if she's comfortable. Lorenz likes the arts, or to bear witness to any skill performed well. Fae likes trying new skills and group activities. An ideal date is one that's planned and includes some measure of exterior activity performed together: like watching theater or seeing an art exhibit or learning to surf or trying wall-climbing.

💖 What are some little subtle ways they show that they love each other?

Modern:

Claude changes his (and consequently everyone's) diet to suit Hilda's dietary restrictions. Fae makes ice; they've never thought about making ice, but they've seen the others drinking beverages with ice, so they start making ice to have ready. Realizing that her "turn" for most major cleaning duties never really seems to come up, Hilda tentatively starts light cleaning and organizing, fearful of the mockery of her childhood home, until she's able to ask for help with bigger tasks. Lorenz picks up texting patterns and music preferences based on influences of his partners.

Post canon / any setting:

Lorenz leave notes everywhere, little poems and soft words — but what is really important is when he is willing to write in the company of his partners, unafraid of people hovering over his shoulder because he trusts them not to. Claude being able / willing to "needlessly" share a bed for the purpose of sleep with his partners. Hilda sees three of the most touch-starved people / ex (?) fighters she's ever met in her life and decides she'll learn something about massages. Abuses Divine Pulse less and less, or abuses Divine Pulse the least, when with their partners, feeling very rarely that they've flubbed something unforgivable and that whatever they've said or done or experienced is fine as it is (in settings other than post canon just translate this to: feels less anxious after interactions that include their partners than otherwise. lol. I've like never written Fae outside of the company of their partners except some of Expanded Epilogue but even then they were only interacting with like Seteth and Alois who are also Family so.).

💍 Which one of them would propose? How would it happen? (or write if you feel like it!)

I love different versions of this. Unfortunately for everyone I am sharing a lot of my thoughts.

In my post-canon I don't have them all marry. I could change it, but I think they're fine as they are, dedicated and happy and more subtle. I count Claude's Goddess Tower proposal, and am excited to Eventually write Lorenz proposing to Hilda in my Hilorenz fic. It will happen.

In Fae-as-a-student au, I've been undecided about whether Fae or Hilda or BOTH leave with Claude to Almyra for a time post-canon, leaving Lorenz behind in Gloucester, BUT I absolutely imagine the four of them together, discussing the departure, and giving Lorenz the proposal, initially a soft, blurted, "Marry me." So that the others ask him if the proposal is reserved for Claude (whom he's looking at because at least Claude is absolutely leaving), and he can clarify that he doesn't just mean Claude and that they don't have to make a public ceremony or announcement until their / his return, but that he would like to make a promise, with those who would have him, before they leave, to keep them from forgetting him when they're far and away.

In A Comedy of Errors modern au, it's less a proposal than a conversation for Lorenz and Hilda to marry. Wait. I have a (bad) text conversation that I thought I might write a fic around once:

Hilda: we should get married

Claude: this is hands down, the worst proposal

Hilda: i'm not proposing!

Hilda: i just want to talk about it

Fae: is that about your insurance?

Hilda: no! .... not entirely

Hilda: what if Claude died in Almyra

Claude: thanks

Hilda: at least one of us would be able to find out about it from the authorities directly

Lorenz: now i want someone to divorce me. please take half my assets

Claude: i'll divorce you baby

Fae: grounds for divorce, right there in one pet name

Hilda: i'm not feeling heard here

Fae: i'm sorry hilda

Lorenz: sorry hilda

Claude: i would marry any of you, or all of you. is there a way you'd be picturing this?

Hilda: well, i figure it would be easier on Lorenz if he married me

Lorenz: marginally true

Claude: /:

Lorenz: you know i love you Claude but ......... my father's still alive and if we're relying on "at least he'll be dead soon" then i don't need to be written out of a will

Lorenz: and i might literally explode if i had to sit through him misgendering Fae for his last few years

Fae: <3

Lorenz: :kiss emoji:

Claude: was this your very roundabout way about asking if it was okay to marry Lorenz?

Hilda: no. i'm willing to hear other suggestions

Fae: i just don't want to sleep alone anymore

Lorenz: </3

Claude: awww

Hilda: ):

Lorenz: are you home now? i could visit for ... 45 minutes maybe?

Claude: just enough time (;

Fae: i am home

Lorenz: Give me ... half an hour

Lorenz: but first. we can do legal weddings whenever we want. i think we should get married.

Claude returns from Almyra a week or so before the wedding, by which time Fae has moved in with Lorenz and Hilda. Claude is earlier than he was expected, as his surprise to them, and they cherish the time. Four days or so after the wedding the four of them go on a date to an observatory where Fae proposes to Claude under the stars. (:

In my soulmate au, there is a proposal incoming by the end of the fic. Claude is going to ask Fae if they'd be comfortable with him proposing to Lorenz, or else offer to put it off, saying he's more confident with how Hilda will react because of their history. I'm still undecided if Claude should prepare something that amounts to a favorite meal for Lorenz in their apartment with the four of them or take them out to a park or beach or mountain or something, where he and Lorenz could have a moment alone. I'm also undecided how many hits Claude should drop in advance (his ... canon self is Not Subtle) but I hadn't planned on dropping them prior to the new year chapter which has finally happened. I think it would be another year or three before Fae and Hilda considered marrying and haven't given it too much thought aside from that. Fae would propose.

Hm, I can have more.

In Just Go With It modern au, Claude remembers the date of their first 'date,' and calls it an anniversary and only he is prepared for the first one, which he expects and is very smug about. It's not a milestone number, but for their fourth anniversary Hilda spends time (like a full year) talking herself into and out of and back again — the act of making rings for her partners, and whether or not they'll be a proposal or just a gift.

In my mermaid au they never have a formal proposal or ceremony.

In my fantasy au, Fae was 70 years a vampire when they met Claude, and they were together for 40 years before Claude proposed, and then they had their children and played at being family and "mundane" for some hundreds of years. They do something like this again when they marry Hilda and Lorenz a year or two after meeting them, again at Claude's proposal.

In my coffeeshop au, Hilda realizes she's pregnant with (Halvard) Lorenz's child and she "proposes" to Claude to start the legal tangle of custody so that they can each have some attachment to their son.

[ma-lark-ey]

Darryl had put this conversation off long enough. Far, far long enough. Two years, to be exact. Him and Carol were filing for divorce, and Grant still didn't even know. He had been left to tell him that, as Carol wanted very little to do with her family anymore.

He knocked the door, waiting for a response before poking in. "Hey, kiddo, I uh... I need to talk to you 'bout something." Grant looked up from his spot on his bed where he was playing on his Switch. Darryl could hear Terry Jr and Grant's new "friend" Kai coming through on some call website. (Of course, Darryl Wilson knew this Kai was no simple friend, he had seen the way Grant acted with Yeet, and this new boy who has joined the group is treated no differently.)

Grant took a second to mute his microphone and looked at Darryl. "Yeah, Dad, what's up?" Honestly,,the football father was glad him and Grant had patched up their relationship a few years ago.

"I um... You should hang up on your friends for now. This may take awhile. Tell 'em you'll be back on later." Darryl took a seat on Grant's bed. Whether the mess of his room was Grants depression or just the fact he's a teenage boy, Darryl will never have an answer.

He didn't miss the concern and fear in Grants eyes as he quickly said bye to his two closest friends and hung up, shutting off his Nintendo.

"Dad did... Did something happen? Is everything okay?" Grant looked like he wanted to lean on Darryl, but didn't know where the rest of this situation would go.

"Um.. Yeah, yeah everything's... Its fine. But um... I don't think you're naive enough to not notice your mom and I have gotten pretty... Distant." He scratched at his neck nervously. God, this was so much harder than he'd thought it'd be. But, its okay. It needs to be done. Its gonna be better for everyone involved when he knows.

"Yeah... I... It worries me, Dad."

"I know, kid. I've... I've been putting this off for awhile. I wanted- i wanted mine and Carol's marriage to last at least until you were out of the house. Cause, I feel like that would be easier on you. But, its just... It can't, Grant and um..." Darryl pressed his palm to his eye to try and keep his emotions down for a little longer. "God, fuck..."

"You're getting divorced. I-I figured." Grants voice was shaking, that slight tremble that you wouldn't notice unless you knew how to look for it. His boy was gonna cry.

"Yeah... Your mom's moving out, Grant. And I- I'm so sorry. I tried to hard, Grant. I know how hard this is, and I didn't-" Darryl was cut off when Grant hugged him, a tight hug. The father didn't waste a second in returning the favor, squeezing his son as tight as he could.

"I'm gonna stay with you, right? Or its at least gonna be even? I-I dont- I..." Darryl could hear the unsaid words. 'I don't wanna get taken away from you.'

Grant had seen his fair share of custody battles in his school friends growing up, not the main group, but there were always more friends than the twins, Nick, and Terry. He saw so many kids not get a say in which parent got primary custody and wind up completely isolated form their dad. He knew how often dads lost all custody to the kids during divorce.

"Grant I... Your mom already signed off her rights to you. You're all mine, kiddo. Staying right here." He expected the sob that left Grant, and he held him with as much love as he could give, which was all of it. His whole heart belonged to his son, every sliver.

Darryl couldn't begin to understand how much hearing that had hurt Granted. He understood Carol's reasons for leaving Grant completely to Darryl. 'He's got a relationship with you, Darryl. While I have that natural mother-son bond, there's just not as much there. And, Darnell doesn't have the space for another kid. I don't want him winding up sleeping on the floor or something when he stays with me.' It made sound sense.

"Grant, I-I know how that sounds. But, its just temporary. When your mom gets her own place, or until her and Darnell get a bigger place, you're with me, and she'll come visit all the time, promise. Her and I are still best friends. Your moms not going anywhere." He assured, pulling Grant to practically be in his lap so he could bear hug him while he cried. Darryl looked over Grants room. The Minecraft mural they had done when he was nine, that still stood because it was Grants favorite thing. The pride flag hanging above his dresser, where the too was decorated with pictures of his friends and random trinkets that mean something to him. The couch just below the mural with a TV across from it, a beanbag or two hidden in the closet. The five of boys always stayed uo crazy late duelling each other in Mario Kart or Call of Duty. Grant or Lark always won. At the head of Grants head was a framed page from one of The Library's books from when they lived in Faerun.

Every inch of this room was filled with Grant, with all the memories he had. It was beautiful.

Darryl looked and saw Carol standing in the doorway, the pain her face at seeing Grant so weak made him realize she hadn't seen Grant full on cry like this in a very long time. Not much had happened to make Grant cry like this in her time with him.

She sat behind him, putting a gentle hand on his back and running her thumb back and forth. And, the family sat there like that. Not quite grieving together, but preparing for the change that was too come. Too soon for Grant, too late for Carol, and... Maybe it was at just the right time for Darryl.

[avengerscompound]

Like Rabbits - Chapter 3

Like Rabbits:  A Black Widow/WinterHawk Fanfic

Masterlist // PREVIOUS

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Rating: E Square: none

Word Count:  2078

Warnings:  a little angsty a little fluffy, sex talk.   Baby making talk.

Synopsis:  While you and Natasha are contemplating starting a family together, Bucky and Clint are doing the exact same thing.  So two couples go take the same path to parenthood together.

A/N: This is a Nat/Reader chapter.

Chapter 3

Natasha had taken a while considering how she would broach the subject of being a sperm donor with Clint and Bucky.  It wasn't exactly like asking to borrow a pen after all.  Sure both things you loaned out without the expectation of getting it back again, but the pen was never gonna show up 18 years later wanting to meet its father.

She had considered just encouraging them to have a foursome and then maybe you'd ‘accidentally’ get pregnant and then she could just say, ‘oh well not to worry, you don't need to be involved, we’ve got this’.  Asking for forgiveness was usually a lot easier than asking for permission.  This might be one of those circumstances where that wasn't the case though.  There was definitely a line she would have crossed that she has always sworn she wouldn't even go near.

In the end, she decided to try the sales executive tactic.  She’d take them out to a nice dinner to butter them up, and then make a proposition.

She’d booked a private room at Atera and it wasn’t until she was sitting next to you at the table in the three Michelin star and Clint and Bucky came in that she’d realized this was the dumbest idea she’d had to date.

Neither Bucky or Clint looked comfortable at all.  Clint was in an ill-fitting light brown suit and his tie was off-center.  He had a band-aid on his forehead and a bruised cheek.   He shuffled in the door, hunched over a little and looking around like he was about to be found out as an imposter.

Bucky’s clothes fit much better, but they made him stand out.  He was dressed in black jeans and a black leather jacket in a restaurant where everyone was in suits and cocktail dresses.  He stood stiff and on alert like he was expecting to have to defend himself being there.

Natasha smiled awkwardly and got up and kissed both their cheeks.  “This restaurant was a bad idea, wasn’t it?”  She said.

“Well, it’s not exactly us, if that’s what you mean,”  Clint said.  “It’s not you either.  Is it a special occasion?”

Natasha shrugged.  “I don’t know what I was thinking really.  Wanted to treat you.”

The boys both greeted you and took a seat.  “At least it’s a private room,”  Bucky said.  “Could do without the eyes on me.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”  Natasha apologized again.

A waitress came in and took your drink orders and explained the tasting menu to you all, offering you all wine pairing with each course.  Everyone passed and you and Natasha both ordered the strongest cocktails on the menu while Bucky and Clint both ordered a beer.

“So…”  Clint said turning back to Natasha.  “You said you’re paying right?”

Natasha started laughing.  “Don’t worry.  It’s covered.  I was…”  She shook her head and looked at you, hoping that the fact she had no idea what words to actually use to ask them.

“You were what?”  Bucky asked.

“Is something wrong?”  Clint added.  “Oh god, you’re dying aren’t you?  It’s cancer.  Nat, do you have cancer?

“Jesus, Clint,” Natasha said.  “Calm down.  I … that is to say we -” she reached over and took your hand.  “- just have a favor to ask.  It’s kind of a big one.”

“Oh, so you were buttering us up.  I get it.”  Clint teased, his body visibly relaxing.

“We kinda have a rather huge favor to ask too,”  Bucky said.  “Well technically, you,”  He added facing you.

“Me?”  You said.  “What do you need?”

The waiter came out and put the first course in front of each of you.  It was a small cup of broth with a ball of wilted greens sitting in the center.  Clint looked at it and grimaced.

“You ask first.  There is no way yours is bigger than ours.”  Bucky said.

“That's doubtful,” Natasha said taking a mouthful of soup.  She could see why Clint had reacted the way he did.  It tasted like grass.

“Might be best if you just say it, Tasha,” you said, rubbing her thigh under the table.

Natasha took a deep breath.  You were right of course, but now she was here it felt like the only answer Bucky and Clint could give was no.  “Lately we’ve been talking about starting a family a lot.  It's something we both really want to do.  We considered adoption but we think it might be something we end up on a waitlist forever for only to end up being rejected because of our jobs.  So we thought we’d have our own.  Only we are missing a key baby-making ingredient. We hoped one of you might… help us out with that…”

Clint and Bucky both stared at Natasha with their mouths hanging open.  They looked at each other still gaping in shock and then back at Natasha again.

“Um… so…”  Clint said slowly.

“It’s okay.  You don’t have to answer yet.  We understand if you need to think about it.  Talk it through with each other.”  You said, almost sounding apologetic.

Bucky shook his head and Clint reached over the table and patted your hand.  “Um…”  He repeated.

“Maybe you should hear what we were gonna ask,” Bucky said wincing.

“What is it?”  Natasha said.  Whatever reaction she had been expecting, it wasn’t this.  Complete panic was what she’d thought would happen.  She’d wouldn’t have been surprised by an automatic ‘no’.  Even Clint just casually saying; ‘Sure, why not, I love jacking off,’  wouldn’t have made her raise her eyebrow.’  This dumbfounded staring was freaking her out.

They both looked at each other again and Clint huffed.  “Okay.  I’ll do it.”  He said.  “So… we were gonna ask… if maybe… you -” he said looking directly at you. “ - would be willing to surrogate for us.”

“Oh my god!”  You squeaked, covering your mouth.

“Right?  So… uh… we’re willing to help you out but -”  Bucky said.

“Only so much uterus real estate at a time…”  Natasha said and let out a breath.  She looked at you and took your hand, playing with your fingers.  “Ignoring us, you think you would have done that, zaika?”

You furrowed your brow.  “Would need to think about it.  It’s big.  Like… it’s not just the am I involved with the baby.  It’s the being pregnant and then just handing the baby over.  I mean… my gut says I would want to help them… but I don’t know that I wouldn’t get attached.”

“Right,” Bucky said frowning.

“I mean, Buck… it would be fair.  You help us and we help you.”  You said reassuringly.  “It’s just a big ‘need to think about it’ decision.”

“But fair and having to have babies back-to-back is totally another thing,”  Bucky said.  “And if we did that, who waits?  Who gets to be parents first?”

Natasha frowned and reached over, running her fingers down the back of your neck.  “It’s a lot.  We can’t rush this.”

The waiter returned taking the cups away and putting down bowls with a scoop of black caviar and a scoop of burnt cream.  Clint wrinkled his nose again.  Natasha got it, but caviar she liked and she took a spoonful and savored the salty taste.

Clint huffed again.  “Is that how we’d do it?   I mean… if we do it.  Just two pregnancies in a row?”

“Well, unless it’s twins, how else would we?”  Bucky asked.

No one said anything, though you opened your mouth 5 times like you were trying to say something.

“Did you get stuck, zaika?”  Natasha asked, rubbing your leg.

“Okay, so part of me is like ‘my poor body’, and part of me is like ‘can I give up a baby I just carried for 9 months?’ but you know what is really sticking for me?”  You asked.

“What is it?”  Bucky asked.

“How can we split up siblings?  You both had siblings right?  What if they got raised by other people and you didn’t know?  What if you knew them even but just were never told that kid was your brother or sister?”  You said.  “Tasha, what if you found out you had a brother or sister?’

Bucky and Clint both sagged in their chairs and Natasha leaned back in hers.  She wanted to pull on her hair or rub her eyes with the back of her hand, but she’d spent so long on her hair and makeup and she really didn’t want to ruin it.

“We’ll donate,”  Bucky said eventually.  “We all shouldn’t have to miss out on something like this just because one of us has to.”

Clint nodded.  “Yeah.  Buck’s right,” he said.  “Take your pick.  And you know…maybe they can just know we’re they’re dad.  And spend some time with us too.”

No one said anything again.  Not even a thank you.  Which given that Natasha felt so excited her heart might just beat out of her chest they really deserved the thank you, and being hugged and kissed and hugged again that she wanted to do.  But it felt wrong considering they were missing out.  It would be much harder for them to find a surrogate than for you and her to find a donor.

The plates were taken away and bowls were put out with flowers in them and then a steaming, fish scented broth poured over the top.

“Really wishing we’d just got pizza now,”  Clint said, poking at his flowers.

“I’m sorry, Clint.  I’ll get you a pizza after.”  Natasha said apologetically.

“Hey,” you said, quietly.   “What if, we all do it together?”

“What do you mean?”  Bucky asked.

“I mean… co-parent?  We share custody.  You can be their dads.  We can be their moms.  We all win.  I mean, either way, even if we all adopted, we’re all family.  Right?”  You explained.

No one said anything again as they thought it over.  Though no one was eating the flower soup either.  The bowls were taken and replaced with trout liver and brown butter.  “Shit, I’m sorry, Clint,”  Natasha apologized.  “I really thought out of 24 courses you’d get some you’d like.”

Clint shook his head.  “It’s fine.  Other things to worry about.”  He said.  “How would we do it?  Will it be like a divorced couple?  We get weekends and holidays and you get weekdays?”

“Maybe…” You said.  “Or, maybe we could live together?  Or if not together, like… what if we bought two places, next door to each other and connected them through the kid's room?  Or something like that?”

“Huh,” Bucky said and took a long drink of his beer.  “You think we could do that?  I mean… would that be strange for the kid?  Or us?  I mean, we’re both your ex, Nat?”

Natasha shrugged.  “You’re also my favorite people.  I think I could handle it.”

“Huh,” Bucky repeated.

“And as someone who had no parents, I can safely say the idea of four loving parents is like heaven to me.”  She added.

“This is really something we can do?  We all get to be parents?”  Clint asked.

“I think so.  I mean… we should probably all think about it, right?  It’s a huge decision.”  You said.

“Yeah.  Yeah, right.”  Clint said rubbing his chin.   “Lots of things to consider.”

Bucky chuckled.  “You want to do it, don’t you?”

Clint nodded sheepishly and Natasha reached over and ruffled his hair, loving him even more in that moment than she normally did.

Bucky shrugged.  “I mean… it feels like fate.  We both come here wanting the same thing.  Maybe this is what was meant to happen.”

“Would we still get our farm?”  Clint asked.

They took the plates again and replaced them with smoked trout and pork fat.  Clint finally ate one of the dishes, albeit in one single mouthful.

“You wanted to get a farm?”  You asked.

“Oh yeah.  Keep them safe.  Get a dog.  Have a place that isn’t… Avengers.”  Clint said.

You looked at Natasha and smiled.  “I like it.  And we could build a place that works for us.  Where we have our own space and shared space.”

Natasha’s smile was mirrored by Clint and Bucky’s.  “I feel like this is happening.  Is this happening?”  Clint asked.

“I still think we should think about it,”  Bucky said.  “But I think I’m in.”

“Me too.”  You said.

Natasha smiled and took your hand and squeezed it.  “Yeah.  I think this is perfect.”

// NEXT

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

The Mistakes We Made - Chapter Sixteen

Summary:  When her high school girlfriend comes back to town after two years with a baby and a terrible story she won’t tell, the Librarian has to deal with the feelings she had worked so hard to keep at bay.

Notes: Wow. This is really happening. The final chapter. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take a moment to be That person and give a big, sincere thank you to everyone who has kept up with this fic, especially to the people who commented often and also those who reblogged the chapters. You helped me write what has become my favorite work. And the longest too! So thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy this one last chapter.

Read it on ao3: (chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8) (chpt9) (chpt10) (chpt11) (chpt12) (chpt13) (chpt14) (chpt15) (chpt16)

The months after that were relatively calm.

Johanna had said she wasn’t ready to be with someone again so soon, and honestly, Maven probably would have been confused if she was: she had been through too much. She surely needed some time to find herself again. So Maven had respected her wishes and gave her the distance she needed.

Well, it couldn’t quite be called distance. It was the furthest away she’d been from Johanna ever since they met each other, apart from those years when Torrin had gotten between them, but it was still quite close. Johanna had moved to a flat in Ericsonberg, that she had somehow managed to guilt trip her parents into renting for her, and Maven had helped in the moving, and during the whole process of coming back to college. Many teachers had been thrilled to have one of their most promising students back, and so were Johanna’s friends. From what Maven had been told, she had taken the chance to make peace with all the friends whom she’d distanced herself from because of Torrin.

During a part of the day, she’d leave Hilda at a daycare, or even let her parents take care of her for a few days, even though Maven thought they didn’t deserve to look after their granddaughter after what they’d done to Johanna. She hadn’t said that, though. What was going on in that family was Johanna’s business, and whatever decision she took about her daughter, Maven would respect.

Every other weekend, Johanna came to Trollberg and stayed in Maven’s house; they studied, and visited Trollberg’s many parks with the kid. Every other weekend, Maven stayed in Ericsonberg and stayed at Johanna’s flat; they studied and enjoyed the freedom of walking in a bigger town, where who they were and their past mattered to no one. Sometimes when Mr. Kavindi said he had no problem with her switching shifts with him, Maven even stayed over with Johanna in the middle of the week. She told herself that it was so that she could take care of Hilda a little for Johanna to study or rest for a while - gods knew how much effort she was making to keep up with Graphic Design and motherhood- but she knew it was also because now that Johanna was back in her life, she didn’t want to miss a moment. And if she was being honest to herself, she was growing very fond of little Hilda too.

The one thing that had been troubling them were the divorce papers; when he’d accepted that Johanna wasn’t coming back and began spreading lies, Torrin hadn’t thought about legal matters. But just after things between Johanna and Maven had settled down in Trollberg, she’d set the papers in motion. She wasn’t asking for much: just what had already belonged to her before the wedding possession wise. After all, Torrin was loved in their town, and had every means to pay for an amazing lawyer, while she was just the traitor. She didn’t want to ask for more than he’d find reasonable, in case he decided to take what she needed the most.

And in that aspect she had bid high; she had made it clear that she wanted full custody of Hilda.

Luckily, he hadn’t seemed to be putting a lot of effort into taking the girl from her. Practically no effort at all, truly, which was weird for a person trying to paint Johanna as a bitch who took his child away from him. It was bad acting on his part, but the two women were more than glad for it.

But even knowing this, they were still a pile of nerves when the day came that the judge would give his final verdict.

It was a warm summer day, and Johanna had chosen to spend the holidays in Trollberg. The two of them were in Maven’s living room, books scattered all over the dinning table, and Hilda was happily playing in her fence by their side.

They had agreed that they should both try to study as much as they could during this month they’d have without classes. After all, the routine was very frenzied, especially for Johanna, and if they could get ahead with some subjects and bonus points projects, that would probably make their life a lot easier once the classes started again.

However, it was clear the both of them were having a hard time focusing on their books when Hilda’s life was about to be decided.

“This isn’t working.” Maven stated, closing the book she was trying to make notes of and startling Johanna out of her reverie. “You keep getting distracted, Anna, and I’m not doing much better”

The woman inhaled deeply and nodded. “I know. But I’m only going to get worse if I’m not focusing on something else.”

“Do you want me to make you some tea? Or maybe we could play a board game?”

Johanna smiled at Maven’s attempts at helping, but it was filled with worry and exhaustion.

“I just want my baby, Maven.” She whispered, her throat tight and eyes watery. “What will I do if they take her away from me?”

Putting her hands on each of Johanna’s arms, Maven forced a look of determination into her eyes. “I don’t know, and we don’t have to know. We don’t even have to think about it, because it won’t happen. Hilda will stay with you and everything will be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” She asked tremulously.

“Because if the court is stupid, and I firmly believe they won’t be, we’ll run away to Iceland.” Maven deadpanned, squeezing her arms in an attempt to look more serious.

Johanna snorted despite her current state of anxiety. “Sounds like a solid plan. You’d run away to Iceland with me?”

“Of course. We’ll buy cattle and live on a farm house.”

“Can we have bees too?”

“I don’t see why not.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a second, maintaining their serious expressions before bursting out laughing. They cackled despite the tense situation they found themselves in, or maybe because of it. Sometimes, laughing was the only thing you could do to keep yourself together.

“Thanks for that, Maven.” Johanna thanked breathlessly as soon as she was able to. “I needed a good laugh.”

Maven dropped her hands to her lap, tilting her head to the side. “You think I joke? Please, Anna, you know I’d follow you to the end of the world.”

_#_#_#_

Thankfully, it hadn’t been necessary to run to the end of the world. The verdict came out not much later, causing Johanna so much euforia that she had run around the house screaming. Maven had curled herself into fetal position on the couch and laughed, part in joyful relief and part at Johanna’s excitement.

They had won, at least as much as they could have hoped for. Torrin had asked for a weekend every two months, and the court had obliged, but that’s as far as it went. For the most part, Hilda was all hers.

Johanna had still been crying and holding a very confused Hilda when Maven got up and headed for the attic. She only realized that Maven had left when she walked down the stairs holding a package bigger than her torso.

“This calls for a celebration.” She said when she noticed the curious look Johanna shot her. “I say we camp.”

So now they were at the park furthest away from the city center they knew of, in order to see the night sky better, lying inside a small tent that Maven said had been her father’s. Hilda was now sleeping inside her stroller (which they had also brought inside the tent) after having tried and failed to walk around for a whole hour. Maven dreaded to think of what would happen once this girl could run.

Despite the relatively warm night, Johanna and Maven cuddled closely as Maven pointed out constellations and narrated the myths and stories associated with them. They had brought a thermos bottle filled with coffee for them to share, and a piece of the cake Johanna had cooked the day before as well, the homely snack filling them with a cozy feeling.

By the time Maven was talking about how the Virgo constellation was said to have been born out of Demeter’s wish to honor and remember her daughter, Persephone, she realized that her tales were no longer holding Johanna’s attention. She turned her face and realized that the other woman had already been looking at her, a fond, lazy smile on her face.

“I love you.” Johanna said suddenly, making Maven’s heart begin thumping furiously in her chest and her eyes widen. She hadn’t said that ever since they had broken up.

“I love you too.” She answered, at first on instinct, but as the words left her mouth, she realized how unquestionably true they were. She didn’t think she’d ever stopped loving Johanna. She didn’t think she’d ever not loved Johanna.

“How do you feel about what we have now?” Johanna asked, searching into Maven’s eyes for an answer.

“I like it. I miss you, of course, but I understand that it’s probably temporary. I could try to find a job in Ericsonberg, or you could try to find a job here once we’re done with college. But regardless of that, we still make time for each other, so I can’t say I’m not happy with it.”

“Doesn’t it bother you? To always be running one place to another, to have to share attention with Hilda…”

Mave licked her lips. If this slow death was Johanna’s idea of telling her to stay away, than she’d been much kinder the first time around. And this is why she kept her calm. Johanna was nothing if not kind.

“Please, Hilda is much cooler than you.” Maven said, making Johanna roll her eyes playfully. “And hey, I said I would follow you to the end of the world, didn’t I? A thirty minute ride is not what’s going to keep me away.”

Johanna’s eyes shone more than the stars before them as she raised a hand to Maven’s neck, using her thumb to caress her jaw.

“In this case.” She said as she got even closer. “I think I’m ready for a relationship again. Maven, will you be my girlfriend?”

Nothing in the world would have been able to stop her from saying yes.

[redeadepression]

Hello, I hope you're feeling good today! Umm I was curious if you want to share some HCs about modern John and Arthur. What aspects would change if they lived in our present days? Or if they woke up a day and were here? :)

Modern AU | Arthur Morgan | John Marston | Headcanons

~~~~~

OMG yes. So I think about Modern AU Arthur and John A LOT. Both in the sense that they actually grew up in modern AU and that’s all they have know and the sense that they have just woken up in a modern world and have to come to terms with what the world is like in 2019. 

I’ll just do a set for each of the boys on Modern AU because this post was getting SO long. But pleaseee if you want to hear about 1899 Arthur and John in a Modern world, send me an ask!

John’s HCs are MUCH more fleshed out than Arthur’s and really more of a narrative where as for Arthur I have a huge bunch of ideas as to who he is as a person but nothing super solid for his actual story.

I have SO many more headcanons about these guys and also Modern AU Abigail. If you want to see more, just ask. ♥

~~~~~

A little background on Modern AU Arthur and John. John’s Father died when he was They were both placed in the Foster-care system where they were taken in by Dutch and Hosea; an older couple that decided to foster instead of adopt. Arthur is still 10 years older than John. He is placed with Dutch and Hosea at around the age of 10 and then seven years later John is placed with them as well at the age of 7. 

Arthur isn’t an orphan but he was taken away from his bio Father due to abuse and after that his Father spiralled and found himself in prison. His sentence kept getting extended due to bad behaviour and eventually Arthur writes him off when he reaches adulthood, realising he isn’t going to change. Dutch and Hosea adopt Arthur with his Father’s consent right before he turns 18. His mother died due to illness when he was a toddler.

John’s Mother died in childbirth and his abusive Father was killed when John was 6. He goes straight in to Foster-care and is bounced around from house to house due to his troublesome nature. His Foster parents find him challenging and he continues to be replaced until eventually he lands with Dutch and Hosea at the age of 7. After Arthur, they find John and his anxieties/acting out to not be all that much of a handful.

John isn’t adopted when he turns 18 and as a result has a strained relationship with the people he had considered his family for over 10 years. He attends family Christmas and other holidays but ultimately feels out of place.

~~~~~

Modern AU Arthur:

Okay so first thing you need to know about Modern Arthur is he’s a serial dater

A romantic always looking for ‘the one’

But total self-sabotager when anyone promising appears

Think Ted Mosby from HIMYM

He is HOT but he doesn’t really know it

Really low self-esteem

But at the same time weirdly arrogant because he can pretty much get any woman he wants

He has a new partner every couple of weeks

Always brings them to events and puts them in the photos which annoys his friends

When he is roughly 25 he has a bad break up and decides to ‘be single’ for a while

He meets Eliza and has a one night stand

She gets pregnant

He tries to make it work with her but in the end they are too different

They break up and Arthur is a little relieved

He’s a good Dad to Issac 

But Eliza moves away with him when he is around 3

So Arthur only see’s him on holidays and when he can afford to fly out for a visit

He is an Artist

Actually makes some decent money off his work

But hates the whole ‘art scene’

Absolutely despises rubbing noses with “pretentious art folk”

But despite that, is really good at schmoozing to get his art recognised

His friends like to remind him that he’s actually really pretentious himself sometimes

But he likes to think of himself as ‘Down to Earth’

He loves food

Always has snacks

Lives off coffee

Has drank dirty paint water instead of his coffee many, many times

Arthur has a really good parental bond with both Dutch and Hosea

He gets along with them both really well and often voluntarily spends time at their house where he grew up

Dutch is an enabler to Arthur’s womanising

He instils the belief in Arthur that when he meets ‘The One’ he will know instantly

Hosea disapproves and encourages him to try and settle down

Not every relationship is perfect but they still work out etc

Arthur’s sibling relationship with John turned to more of a friendship when the later turned 18

He invited John to live with him for a little while, while he was setting up his business

They didn’t live together for long as they got on each others nerves too often

Arthur doesn’t have many male friends

He finds it easier to connect with women in a platonic sense

Besides John, his male friends are his friend’s husbands

(i.e Jake Adler)

 Arthur likes to go away for a couple of weeks at a time

Sometimes he tells people where he’s going

Other times he just disappears

But his Instagram alerts his family to the fact he’s still alive

He never goes on extravagant vacations

Often saving enough for a flight and a stay at a hostel somewhere

Sometimes he camps

He uses these trips for inspiration in his work

Often has a huge influx of stylised work, based on where he’s been once he returns home 

It gradually returns to his usual art-style 

That’s when he realises it’s time to get away again

He feels content in his life and genuinely enjoys living

He actively yearns for more but deep down isn’t sure he actually wants it

He could live like this the rest of his life and not have many regrets

Modern AU John:

As a child, John never really had anything of his own

Never had anything new

Always hand-me-downs

So once he becomes a teen he is incredibly keen to enter the work-force

He’s very excited to spend his first pay cheque on something new for himself

He never flourished at school

Found that he was much better at working

Especially with his hands and machinery 

He took on a trade and worked to become a construction worker

When he reaches adulthood and realises he’s going to have to live by his own means he takes a business course

Starts his own company at the age of 18, doing handy-man kind of work

Dutch and Hosea offer him money to grow it

He turns it down as he feels it’s out of guilt

This spurs him on to work even harder

He wants to prove himself

Eventually starts to make enough money to hire staff

Starts taking on bigger clients

Bigger jobs

Grows his company until at the age of 22 he’s got his own small business and it’s thriving

He does well for himself

He lives off Energy Drinks and coffee

Fast food is a must

Often eats in his car at lunch or on his way home from work

It’s lonely

He meets Abigail and they start casually dating

Not long in to their relationship she falls pregnant

John freaks out but recovers well

He doesn’t want his child to grow up like he did

Proposes because he’s young and dumb

They get married really quickly despite people trying to tell them it’s a bad idea

He takes a mortgage on a house and they move in together

Things are good for a while

But once baby Jack comes they go downhill

Abigail is a good Mother but very young and selfish

This is a whole other set of headcanons if anyone is interested, I’ll write them

John steps up as a Father because he has to if he wants his child to have a good life

He flails a lot

Almost drowns a couple of times

Eventually falls in to a good rhythm of work and baby

His relationship with Abigail crumbles

They separate with joint custody

He has a few good friends

He leans on them hard in during his divorce

He sells his house and moves in with a friend for emotional support/help with the baby

Puts the profits from his sale in to his business and grows it further

As a human; he has a lot of flaws

But they are very different from his flaws in 1899

He is full of anxieties and mental health issues

But refuses to work on them

As a Father he feels he is unfit

But he takes it on anyway and is actually a natural

As a husband he was clingy, yet distant at the same time

Wanting attention and then space when it suited him

He is resentful of Abigail for ultimately being the one to end the marriage

Despite knowing it was for the best

He starts dating a friend

He realises what a good, supportive relationship is like

He and Abigail fight often about what’s right for Jack

John grows frustrated with her childishness 

Eventually fights for full custody because he feels like Jack isn’t Abigail’s first priority

Doesn’t win due to being at work full-time 

Abigail settles on 70/30 because she is also working and knows John can afford a better Nanny than she can

He never confront Dutch and Hosea about not being adopted

Figures they just didn’t want him to be permanent in their lives

They were his parents for 11 years

It stings but he moves on

He’s in denial about how much it affects him 

Affects the decisions his makes parenting his son

[pope-francis-quotes]

25th January >> (@ZenitEnglish) #PopeFrancis #Pope Francis’ Address to Young Detainees at Penitential Liturgy in Panama (Full Text) ‘Seek out and listen to the voices that encourage you to look ahead, not those that pull you down’.

Below is the Vatican-provided text of Pope Francis’ address at the Penitential Liturgy with young detainees in the Centro de Cumplimiento de Menores Las Garzas de Pacora in Panama, during the second full day of his Apostolic Visit to the country to celebrate World Youth Day 2019:

***

“He receives sinners and eats with them”. We just heard this at the beginning of the Gospel reading (Lk 15:2). They are the words muttered by some of the Pharisees and scribes who were greatly upset and scandalized by the way Jesus was acting.

With those words, they tried to discredit and dismiss Jesus in the eyes of everyone. But all they managed to do was point out one of his most ordinary yet distinctive ways of relating to others: “He receives sinners and eats with them”.

Jesus is not afraid to approach those who, for countless reasons, were the object of social hatred, like the publicans – we know that tax collectors grew rich by exploiting their own people and they caused great resentment – or like those who were called sinners because of the gravity of their faults, errors, and mistakes. He does this because he knows that in heaven there is more joy for a

single converted sinner than for ninety-nine righteous people who do not need conversion (Lk 15:7).

Whereas the Pharisees and the scribes were content to grumble or complain, restricting and blocking any kind of change, conversion and inclusion, Jesus approaches and engages, even putting his reputation at risk. He asks us, as he always does, to lift our eyes to a horizon that can renew our life and our history. Two very different and contradictory approaches. A sterile, fruitless approach – that of murmuring and gossip – and another, one that invites to change and conversion, the approach of the Lord.

The approach of murmuring and gossip

Many people do not tolerate this attitude of Jesus; they don’t like it. First by complaining under their breath and then by shouting, they make known their displeasure, seeking to discredit his way of acting and that of all those who are with him. They do not accept and they reject this option of drawing near to others and giving them another chance. Where people’s lives are concerned, it

seems easier to post signs and labels that petrify and stigmatize not only people’s past but also their present and future. Signs that ultimately serve only to divide: these people are good and those are bad; these people are the righteous and those the sinners.

This attitude spoils everything because it erects an invisible wall that makes people think that, if we marginalize, separate and isolate others, all our problems will magically be solved. When a society or community allows this and does nothing more than complain and backbite, it enters into a vicious circle of division, blame, and condemnation. It takes the social approach of marginalization, exclusion, and confrontation, leading it to say irresponsibly, like Caiaphas: “It is expedient that one man should die for the people, and that the whole nation should not perish” (Jn 11:50). Normally the thread is cut at the thinnest part: that of the most vulnerable and defenseless.

How painful it is to see a society concentrate its energies more on complaining and backbiting than on fighting tirelessly to create opportunities and change.

The approach of conversion

The Gospel, on the other hand, is completely characterized by the other approach, which is nothing more or less than that of God’s own heart. The Lord wants to celebrate when he sees his children returning home (Lk 15:11-31). Jesus testified to this by showing to the very end the merciful love of the Father. A love that has no time for complaining, but seeks to break the circle of useless, needless, cold and detached criticism, and faces head-on the complexity of life and of every situation.

A love that initiates a process capable of providing ways and means for integration and transformation, healing and forgiveness: a path of salvation. By eating with tax collectors and sinners, Jesus shatters the mentality that separates, excludes, isolates and falsely separates “the good and the bad”. He does not do this by decree, or simply with good intentions, or with slogans or sentimentality.

He does it by creating relationships capable of enabling new processes; investing in and celebrating every possible step forward. In this way, he also breaks with another form of complaining, one even harder to detect, one

that “stifles dreams” because it keeps whispering: “you can’t do it, you can’t do it”. The whisper that haunts those who repent of their sin and acknowledge their mistakes, but don’t think that they can change. It makes them think that those who are born publicans will always die publicans, and that is not true.

Friends, each of us is much more than our labels. That is what Jesus teaches us and asks us to believe. His approach challenges us to ask and seek help when setting out on the path of improvement. There are times when complaining seems to have the upper hand but don’t believe it, don’t listen to it. Seek out and listen to the voices that encourage you to look ahead, not those that pull you down.

The joy and hope of every Christian – of all of us, and the Pope too – comes from having experienced this approach of God, who looks at us and says, “You are part of my family and I cannot leave you out in the cold; I cannot lose you along the way; I am here at your side”. Here? Yes, here! It is that feeling that you, Luis, described at those time when it seemed that it was all over, yet

something said: No! It is not all over, because you have a bigger purpose that lets you see that God our Father is always with us. He gives us people with whom we can walk, people to help us achieve new goals.

So Jesus turns complaining into celebration, and tells us: “Rejoice with me!”

Brothers and sisters: You are part of the family; you have a lot to share with others. Help us to discern how best to live and to accompany one another along the path of change that we, as a family, all need.

A society grows sick when it is unable to celebrate change in its sons and daughters. A community grows sick when it lives off relentless, negative and heartless complaining. But a society is fruitful when it is able to generate processes of inclusion and integration, of caring and trying to create opportunities and alternatives that can offer new possibilities to the young, to build a future through community, education, and employment. Even though it may feel the frustration of not knowing how to do so, it does not give up, it keeps trying. We all have to help each other to learn, as a community, to find these ways. It is a covenant that we have to encourage one another to keep: you, the young, those responsible for your custody and the authorities of the Centre and the Ministry, and your families, as well as your pastoral assistants. Keep fighting, all of you, to seek and find the paths of integration and transformation. The Lord will bless, sustain and accompany you.

Shortly we will continue with the penitential service, where we will all be able to experience the Lord’s approach, his gaze, which does not look at labels and prison terms, but at his sons and daughters. That is God’s approach, his way of seeing things, which rejects exclusion and gives us the strength to build the covenants needed to help us all to reject complaining: fraternal covenants that enable our lives to be a constant invitation to the joy of salvation.

[Original text: Spanish] [Vatican-provided text of Pope’s prepared speech]

© Libreria Editrice Vaticana

25th JANUARY 2019 16:41PAPAL TRIPS

[justanoutlawfic]

Before & After

@trueloveismagic​ said: With the realms merged, Ella, Drizella and Ana have a chance to be sisters again. But that’s easier said than done. Ella has not forgiven Drizella for everything she’s done and, frankly, worries for Ana’s safety. Ella considers fighting for custody of her youngest sister…

Also on AO3

Ella grew up in a realm with magic, so she knew anything was possible. However, the one thing that she was always told was that dead is dead. People don’t come back from that, ever. She had tried after her father died, but there was no such luck.

 However, when they all got back from the Enchanted Forest and decided to move to Storybrooke full time, she found out that her previously deceased sister was still alive.

 Not only was Anastasia alive, she was living with Drizella.

 She didn’t know what to do about it at first. When she found out that Regina had allowed Drizella to return to the Enchanted Forest during the curse, she was told that her step-sister had turned over a new leaf. She had been raising Anastasia on her own ever since they returned.

 Once the realms were reunited, Ella went to see her sisters. Anastasia threw her arms around her right away and hugged her tight. Drizella had made sure to show her pictures and catch her up on all that was going on. She had time to adjust to what was going on.

 Ella hadn’t.

 She spent the afternoon bonding with her little sister, allowing her to show her around the neighborhood and where she went to school. It wasn’t quite what she had been used to growing up, but she seemed happy.

 Drizella didn’t come out of their cottage, it was as if she knew better. She lingered from the window, though. Ella stared at her for a moment, trying to hear Regina’s words.

 “She’s trying to change, El. I know it’s not easy for you to forgive her, I’m not sure I have completely either. Still, she’s trying to be a better person.”

 It made Ella’s blood boil. She had spent years being treated as her family’s servant, more being chased by them and marked for death. Her husband had nearly been killed and then she was separated from him. For 2 years she had to share custody of her only child with a woman who had made her life hell. Where was her curse? Her excuse for vengeance?

 Deep down, Ella knew that she wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to hurt other people, she just wanted a chance to move on.

 So, why was it so hard for her to accept that Drizella was too?

 Ella got home from visiting her sisters after Lucy had gone to bed. She threw her keys up on the rack and Henry walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a rag, a smile on his face. She let a long sigh of relief, walking closer and kissing him. God, she had forgotten how good it felt to kiss her husband. Her husband, not the odd Swift driver that also happened to write her daughter’s favorite book and somehow brought so much chaos in her life. No, the man she had fallen in love with. The man that had helped save her.

 After the realms had been united, they had decided to settle down in Storybrooke. They had bought a new home, bigger than their cottage in the Enchanted Forest. Lucy was now going to the same school her father had, with Snow as her teacher. She loved all the realms, but there was something special about this town. They had spent so long where she grew up, but now she loved getting to know where her husband had.

 “How’s Anastasia?”

Ella’s face fell. “She’s great.”

Henry tilted his head. “You don’t look so happy about that.”

“I am, it’s just…” She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m thinking Anastasia should come live with us.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Is Drizella not taking care of her?”

“She is. I’m just not sure if she should be taking care of a child right now.”

“She’s been doing it for a while. Unless Ana’s not happy.”

“She is…”

“Then what?”

“She tried to kill you, that’s what!” Henry’s mouth dropped open, but Ella kept going. “She forced your mother to cast the curse, which separated our family for two years! Under the curse, she kept going after you, knowing the truth. She…she nearly ruined everything!”

 Henry wrapped his arms around Ella and rest his forehead against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, hard.

 “Now, she just gets to walk free. Like nothing happened.”

“I know it’s hard,” Henry whispered.

“How are you okay with her still being out there?”

“Because my family is filled with people that used to be villains.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it? People gave my mom and grandfather another chance after all they did. Look at my aunt, even. The more people pushed her away and shut her out of their lives, the worse she got.”

“She deserved it, though.”

“Yes, but once she started proving that she could be better, we gave her a chance. It’s not like Drizella’s been doing bad things since Mom let her go. She’s turned her life around. You said it yourself, Anastasia is happy. She loves Drizella.”

 Ella opened her eyes and looked into his lovable green ones.

 “I thought after the second curse broke that staying away from my mom would be the right thing, but it only made me hurt more. Don’t do that to Anastasia.”

Ella sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m still not sure I forgive Drizella.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to. You just have to be willing to work with her, for Ana’s sake.”

Ella knocked on the door of Drizella and Anastasia’s cabin. Drizella opened it, taking a step back when she saw her sister on the other side.

 “Ella. Anastasia’s not here, she went out with some friends.”

Ella nodded. “I’m not here to talk to her. I want to talk to you.”

“Do you want to come in…”

“No…I mean, not today.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Regina tells me you’ve changed and maybe you have. Anastasia seems happy.”

“She really is.”

“I guess I’m just…I’m trying to forgive you and I can’t.”

Drizella frowned. “I get it. Look, I know I’m sorry isn’t going to fix everything…”

“It’d be a good start.”

She nodded. “Right. I’m sorry. I…I let Gothel get into my head. She told me that we were a family.”

“I was your family, Drizella! Me!” Tears gathered in Ella’s eyes. “We used to play together, have sleepovers in each other’s rooms. We told each other all our secrets! You comforted me after my mother went missing!”

A single tear fell down Drizella’s face. “I know,” she whispered.

“So, then…what happened?” Ella’s voice broke. “We both had crap childhoods, but only one of us cast a curse and nearly killed the other’s husband.”

“You’re a lot stronger than me, Ella. You always were. I can’t go back and change the past, but I want to make a different future for us, for all of us.”

 Drizella turned on her heel and went into the cottage. She returned a moment later with three straw dolls in her hands. Ella bit down on her lip, remembering they had made them shortly after Cecelia and Marcus got married. They had been Anastasia’s idea, to bond all of them together.

 “Remember when we made these?”

Ella bit her lip to suppress a smile. “Yeah. It was all Ana’s doing.”

“She brought us together once. Maybe now she can do it again.”

 Ella looked into her sister’s eyes and let out a tiny breath.

 “Maybe.”

[yeomangamer]

After My Father’s Funeral Chapter 6

Summary: Funerals can be stressful, but so can weddings–especially with a family as effed up as theirs. Unfortunately for Leia, she has both to attend in one go. So much for repression. Modern AU

Pairings: Leia/Han, Mara/Luke, Jyn/Cassian, Leia&Han&Luke&Mara&Cassian&Jyn, Uncle Owen/Aunt Beru

Chapter summary: Mara and Luke had not been looking forwards to their party, and if Leia could've predicted the future, she wouldn't have either.

A/N: This chapter contains explicit/mature content under the cut, after the line break. Ya’ll been warned. Thanks to my friend @padmenaberrje​ for being my beta and a great friend. Please check out the Ao3 and FFN versions for full author’s notes

It was a week to the wedding. Everyone Leia had ever known from college and high school was at Mara and Luke's residence. She hadn't attended a ton of parties in college, but this was already bigger and wilder than she'd ever seen. But that wasn't difficult. The wildest party she'd been to was in law school: a guy passed out and people had drawn on his face, some girl had cheated at that party, breaking up a 5 year relationship. There had maybe been 20-25 people in total attendance.

Mara and Luke were not stripper people, and had opted to have a combined bachelor/ette party. Neither of them seemed too excited to potentially be embarrassed in front of their peers, but did it after so many people asked what they were doing. Leia was under the impression that because of their squeamishness, people were going to act that much raunchier. Guests had brought obscene posters and games on top of gag gifts. Leia was waiting for the stripper to come in uninvited, and decided she would leave at that point. 

Two of her three vacation weeks had passed her by, and she was dreading the last one. Had things gone according to plan-had Skywalker not ruined everything once again-her plane would have landed that morning. Maybe she would've been excited to be here instead of being in a funk after spending the day staring at the wall in Luke's old bedroom, browsing Twitter in between existential crises.

She was already a little tipsy and planning on at least getting mildly drunk. Jyn and Cassian were nowhere to be seen and Mara and Luke were opening the gag gifts in the living room. That left Leia on the stairs, not really in the living room, nor out. Most people left her alone, but Han Solo wasn't most people.

"This seat taken?" He asked as he sat down on the step below her. He was wearing a blue button-up plaid shirt with short sleeves over a white t-shirt and jeans. He looked good in a rugged sort of way. As he always did.

"Now it is," she said, looking up at him.

He took a look at her, assessing her current state. "You drunk, sweetheart?"

"Not yet." She smiled at him, a wide smile. Her usual inhibitions weren't working, but she didn't feel out of control...yet. "Say, what's with the nicknames, cowboy?"

He laughed. "Easier than remembering real names."

Her face fell. "You don't know my name?" She was more than a little hurt by his comment, joking or not.

"Of course I do. Lily was it? Or Lorelei." She got up to move, but was stopped by his hand on her wrist. "I'm joking, Leia. I know your name."

She sat back down. "Not funny."

"Man, don't tell me you're a mean drunk."

"Of course I'm a mean drunk. I get drunk and I mean it." He laughed pretty hard at that one.

They watched the party unfold, people laughed and drank. Music was playing and it was generally a great vibe.

"Did you help plan tonight?" she asked him, and he shook his head.

"Nah, this has to be the easiest best man gig in the history of weddings. Luke is so low maintenance, its almost infuriating." He settled onto the step. "I only had to write a speech and buy a vest."

"And show up." He pointed at her and nodded.

"I won't forget that, I promise you. Write a speech, buy a vest, and show up. Two down, one to go." They toasted to that and drank. The scene in front of them continued to unfold.

"How did you get into the racing scene?" Leia asked after Mara threw the edible underwear she'd received from a guest at their face.

Han chuckled at Mara and bit his lip in thought. "I'd picked up odd jobs in and after high school, a lot of mechanic work. I honestly can't remember not wanting to be a driver, but...it took a while before I finally got behind a wheel. And even when I did, it was rough. And it wasn't always legal. I lost a lot of races, a lot of money, and nearly hung up my career at the ripe age of 25."

Leia raised her eyebrows. "Really. What changed your mind?"

Han smirked. "Kessel Run. That win launched my career. All of a sudden I was turning away sponsorships 'stead of begging for them. I was able to get the Millenium Falcon, the first real racing car I'd ever owned. No longer had to borrow from Lando or some other racer, I had my own car. I had my own life." He was in his own world then, looking out at the party, but lost in his own memory. "Even if things crash and burn, literally or figuratively, I had that moment, you know? That moment of doing exactly what I wanted to do."

"That's inspiring." Leia nodded. "I'm afraid my own career isn't nearly as satisfying as that."

He laughed, and she smiled. "You'll get there, sweetheart. We've both still got a lotta livin' to do." They sat in silence for a moment, drinking. "So what made you want to be a lawyer?" He asked as Luke puffed up an inflatable penis.

Leia laughed at the scene in front of her. "Sorta like you, I think I always wanted to be a lawyer. But it wasn't until the Ruling that I understood exactly."

"The case you and you brother were in." Han clarified.

"Yeah, Luke told you about it, right?" Leia took another sip of her drink. Who'd've thought alcohol was the answer to not thinking about painful memories.

"I'd heard about it. It was all over the news when it happened. Luke's told me some details, but-"

Leia huffed, feeling in a very overshare-y mood. "Well, what do you know, what do you wanna know?"

Han seemed surprised she wanted to talk about it, but continued. "I know your father wanted custody, and you and Luke were reunited, but not much else."

She gathered her words carefully, even in her slightly drunk state. "We weren't just reunited, our entire world view was shattered." Leia took another drink. "We both knew that mom—our biological mother—died due to complications with childbirth, and that dad wasn't around."

"But neglected to tell you who he was?" Han was sitting a step lower, leaning next to her onto the step she was sitting.

She nodded. "What he was and about each other."

Han looked thoughtful. "Wait, you didn't even know about-? You thought you were an only child-"

"Until my 16th birthday, yeah. That's when they told us."

Han was shocked, and Leia couldn't blame him. No one seemed to want to remember that detail, that they had both been lied to by the people they trusted the most.

"Why didn't they tell you?"

"'It was simpler that way.'" Leia quoted her own father, Bail, on that one. "They claimed they were going to tell us when we turned 18, but…"

Han scoffed. "Was that what they told you to make you feel better?"

She nodded and fingered the sleeve of her jacket, neither of them spoke. "Imagine receiving news like that. If you absolutely have to, you would hope that your parents would sit you down nice and calmly, and tell you the whole story when you're ready to handle it. Definitely not when you receive a subpoena for your DNA."

Han's jaw dropped. "A subpoena? How did they let it get that far before telling you?"

"The record for Luke and mine's adoption was supposed to be sealed until we turned 18. I don't know how Skywalker found where we were, but the court needed to prove paternity in order to even consider opening the file. They—my parents and the Lars'—had argued that since there was no father listed on our birth certificates, there was no grounds to examine the file. The judge disagreed, he wanted to be thorough." Her eyes itched and she scratched them, her fingers coming up wet. She was crying. "We lived in the same town, Han. Opposite sides of a picket fence. I could've walked by him on the street, and I probably would've made fun of his clothing to my friends. My parents, I loved them so much. I could care less about paternity, the Organas were my parents. But they didn't tell me I had a brother, a twin! We shared a womb and they separated us. I love Luke so much, he's everything to me." She was on the verge of blubbering now, the tears streaming down her face.

Han sat up a step and wrapped an arm around her, handing her a napkin. She blew her nose. Damn, she'd thought this trauma had been long-since buried.

"He ruined my life, Han. First driving my mother away so she died alone, then being such a fuck up, that Luke and I had to be separated, then dragging us through the courts for what reason? The judge ruled against him, but allowed visitation. Luke even lived with him for like 6 months. Then, as if all this wasn't enough, he caused the death of my parents." She blew her nose again, and wiped her eyes on her sleeves. She tried to compose herself, failing miserably. The words kept pouring out of her. "And don't give me that 'He changed, he wrote a book.' It doesn't matter. If he hadn't been such a- such a fucking bastard, we could've been a family, we could've been happy."

Up until this point Han had been silent, only keeping his arm around her. Everyone had crowded around Luke and Mara with their backs to Leia and Han. No one had seen her break down but him. He pulled her into his chest for a tender embrace, he rubbed her back as she sobbed into his chest. After a minute or so, she was finally able to compose herself (as well as she could) and pulled away, reaching for the drink she'd sat down.

"I think you've had enough." Han took the cup from her, setting it down by the stairs.

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and blew her nose on the almost disintegrated napkin. "Sorry to ruin your night with my problems, again." The shame was hitting her hard. This was why she didn't overshare. This is why she didn't go to parties and drink. This was why she never went back home.

"Do you always apologize after admitting your problems?" He took his arm out from around her.

"What else are you supposed to say after baring your soul to someone?" She'd felt she'd offended him somehow when he moved away from her. In that moment, she only wanted comfort.

Han stood up and she immediately felt the lack of his warmth next to her. She looked up, certain her makeup—which she had put on painstakingly in Luke's old bathroom—was a mess. "I'm not sure. Wanna take a ride?"

She blinked at him. "In the Falcon?"

He nodded. "I told you, I owe you. You're leaving in a week, right?" He stretched out his hand to her.

She nodded and took his hand. He pulled her up and they slipped out the front door.

You need more scoundrels in your life, he had said. Right before he'd kissed her. He had taken her for a drive along the backroads of Naboo county, almost driving an hour until they didn't see any sign of civilization. Leia felt as though they had landed on a different planet, there was so much wild around her. He had zipped and zoomed, before they finally settled within spitting distance of the the suburbs. That was when she told him he was a pretty good driver.

"For a scoundrel," she qualified. She'd sobered up some, but her stupor had turned to a more pleasant buzz. The drive had been more exciting than she had thought it would be.

He'd leaned over to her seat and stared directly into her eyes, that smirk of his as prominent as ever. Her skin had never felt hotter. "You need more scoundrels in your life." Then he'd kissed her, deeply, passionately.

His tongue slipped between her lips and she ran her hands through his hair. His hands pulled her jacket off, feeling the bare skin of her arms and shoulders, slipping around her waist to pull her as tight as the confines of the car would allow. At this point, she was seriously thinking about the logistics of the front seat, the back seat…the ground outside even, when they broke apart. His eyes looked as bright and wild as she felt, and she was wondering if he meant multiple contexts of this "ride." But he turned to start the car and sped off before she could think too hard about that.

His house was small, big enough for two people maybe, with a three-car garage. She could see the lights from the city in the distance, but not too close to be intrusive. She felt as though she were in a dream. He led her inside. She barely got a look at his home—which screamed "bachelor" to her—before he was leading her to his bedroom. He kicked Chewie off the bed, and put him outside.

She sat on his bed, looking over her shoulder at him, having already taken off her jacket. The door shut with a click and she felt the tension in the room change. This was happening. He sauntered over to her slowly, taking off his plaid shirt and letting it fall to the floor. He kneeled down in front of her, parting her legs to sit between them, nose to nose with her. His breath was hot on her face as he leaned in to kiss her cheek, her jaw, and finally her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest as she pulled on his t-shirt to pull it off. They parted to let the garment pass, and Han moved to her neck, kissing down and over her collar bone. She took in a small breath as she felt his fingers creep up her legs under her floral dress to pull down her panties. Up until then his touches had been chaste. He moved back up to kiss her mouth as he rubbed the outline of her labia and moved deeper with each stroke slowly. Too slowly.

"Force, Han, are you going to keep being a tease or are you going to-" She demanded, hornier than ever. But before she could finish he dipped his head down, in between her legs. She gasped and moaned as he licked and sucked his way around her clit before tongue-fucking her. She barely registered that she was pulling on his hair extremely hard as she approached her orgasm. He introduced his fingers back into the equation, leaving her a wet mess. "R- right there, y- oh!" She came without making much of a sound as she fell back onto the bed. She felt him wipe his mouth on the hem of her dress, his breathing heavy.

"How's that for teasing, sweetheart?" She could hear his indignant smirk in his voice.

She sat back up, pulling her dress over her head and dropping it next to him. "I swear to the force, Han. If you don't put your dick inside me, what was the point of all of this?"

He stood, undoing his belt, and letting his pants fall. "So much for being coy, princess." He moved forwards to kiss her, laying her back against the bed.

He seemed content to rub against her for a while, and Leia was not. She shoved at his shoulder and he broke apart, taking a big breath in.

"You wanna- (huff) stop?" he asked. "I can t-" She pushed him over and onto his back, throwing her leg over him and straddling his middle. He settled his hands on her hips. His eyes were wide as she placed open mouthed kisses onto his collar-bone. She discarded their remaining clothing, and he'd pulled out a condom. She rolled it over, and settled herself overtop of him. She was still very slick from his meal earlier, and she slid him inside with ease. They both took a breath, eyes locked onto each other.

"Satisfied?" he asked.

She made no reply, only rolled her hips, eliciting a moan from both of them. She did it again, and again, finding a rhythm. He held onto her hips like he was holding onto a lifeline, bucking up into her. She stopped moving her own hips, preferring his movements to her own. She threw her head back, moaning and palming her breasts.

"Force, Leia, fuck." He pushed her back onto her side and she moved onto her back. He wasted no time settling back on top and inside her, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He buried his face in her neck, suckling on her earlobe as he found his same rhythm again. She hissed and moaned as he found that spot inside her, hitting it again and again. His hips were stuttering now, but had more force behind them and she cried out each time his hips met her's.

"R- right- there- right!" She squeaked and felt the sensation wash over her once again. His movements stopped with a single, powerful thrust shortly after and he heaved one last cry into her hair.

Hours—days it felt like—later, Leia was lying awake in the darkness of his bedroom. His arm was slung across her bare stomach, and he was sleeping soundly. He snored, she'd discovered, but that wasn't what kept her awake.

This was wrong, so wrong. How hard had she worked to get herself out of Naboo? Only to end up back in. Force, she'd told him about her father. She'd cried on him about her father. How pathetic was she?

A scratching at the door finally made her get out of bed. She passed over his t-shirts for the jacket she'd worn at the party, pressing it to her chest so that the important parts were covered—at least from the front. She opened the door and let Chewie in, delighting in the serenity of Han's backyard illuminated by the waxing moon. It looked as though he hadn't mowed it since the start of summer. There were old pieces of junk sitting in the tall grass, but there were also terra-cotta pots making up a small garden.

She closed the door and sighed, looking back to the bed to see that Chewie had taken the spot she had previously occupied. She took this as her sign to leave, and started pulling together her outfit from the party. It wasn't easy hunting around in the dark, but she'd eventually recovered all but her bra. She faintly remembered being on top of him in nothing but her underwear, and he'd made some snarky comment about whether he should leave his socks on if she was going to wear her bra. In hindsight, it was definitely a line to get her to strip, but it had felt good in the moment to fling the garment across the room. Force, how much of what he'd said had been lines? "You need more scoundrels in your life", "don't go retreating into your shell when it took so much to get you out of it", "I have better things to do." Well, now, he would have time to do anything, except her.

She abandoned the bra as a lost cause, let him proclaim her as a conquest if he chose. She looked back over at him on the bed one last time and wondered if he'd mistake Chewie for her in a morning haze. Her phone buzzed as she walked out the door to her Uber. It was Jyn: "Where r u?"

She texted back: "Sorry, Han took me for a drive in the Falcon, I'm on my way home."

"Party is still happening (confetti emoji)."

She got into the backseat. "I drank too much (sick face emoji), I'm going to bed. See you later though."

"Text me when you get home."

She did.

[sage-the-mage]

I'm starting on a Miraculous Ladybug fic

Because of my need for telling things from the perspective of OCs, we're getting a new character and "how Marinette became the sister to Ladybug and wound up with Nathaniel." Which is admittedly funny because I'm starting with her POV. Anyway.

It starts with a prologue that covers this version of Origins, which is mostly the same. Some basics before I get into it too much: The (soon to be) Ladybug is named Haley Dupain. She's Marinette's cousin on her father's side. Her dad moved to America, where he met her mom and they had her. For reasons she prefers not to discuss, she wound up in the custody of the Dupain-Cheng family, about a year before the start of the prologue. By the start, she's fully part of the family, thinking of Mari as a sister rather than a cousin (and referring to her as such) and of Tom and Sabine as her parents, calling them Mama and Papa like Mari. They, in turn, truly think of her as a daughter/sister, and refer to her as such. Chloe still picks on Marinette, but has more fun making jokes at Haley's expense because she's "an easier target" being newer and from an assumed to be troubled past. Okay, back to plot. Mari and Haley both help Fu out, but since they share a backpack (Haley doesn't see the purpose of using another when they share textbooks and can take turns carrying the bag) he has to leave it to fate to see which winds up Ladybug. In class when Chloe takes the spot usually belonging to Mari and Haley, and Alya (the absolute best) tells them to sit with her, Haley pretty much says screw it, these benches are big enough for three and you're my best shot at a friend, and sits on the end. This leads to it being her seat that Chloe puts gum on and Adrien tries to get off, which means the misunderstanding is with her. At the end he's apologizing and handing the umbrella to her, basically just a character change and with Mari awkwardly in the background cheering her sister on.

Mari never really gets the crush on Adrien. The story skips years after that, and it's alluded to that after the Evillistrator fiasco she talks to him and they wind up going out. Haley gets a bit of a crush after the umbrella scene, but she already has a bigger crush on Chat. Similarly, Adrien got a crush on LB after their first meeting, but because Haley is better than Mari at keeping her emotions from making her incapable of speech around crushes (Adrien) and despite her feelings keeps things strictly professional as LB around Chat (though mostly because they hardly get time together without akumas) he actually winds up liking Haley a lot pretty soon, and his crush on LB fades, though not completely. In other words, the equivalent of the MariChat corner of the love square, aka my favorite. HaleChat? HaleChat. Hmm, LadyNoir and Ladrien still work for those corners since she's still called Ladybug, unless someone's got any other ideas there. Not that I'd entirely complain, it might reinforce the whole different character with the ladybug miraculous thing. But Adrienette doesn't work anymore so... Adrieley? Hadrien? Hadrien sounds better, I think. Anyway yeah this is a thing now, I'd love someone to chat (ha) with about this if anyone wants to.

Aaaaaand it's storming really hard out. Time to go see if I can sleep and make sure my dog doesn't cry. And maybe burrow up next to Jack, yeah let's do that.

[defiancerpg-blog]

LIBRA ~ THE SCALES

Name 🡒 Dinah Drake

Age 🡒 24

Identity 🡒 Female & She/Her

Orientation 🡒 Bisexuality

Origin 🡒 Houston, Texas

Nova Type 🡒 Corpus

Song 🡒 Blackbird by Sarah McLachlan (The Beatles Cover)

Faceclaim 🡒 Stella Maeve

RESISTANCE IS NOT TERRORISM

TW - Death, Inferred Child Abuse  

So, tell me a little bit about growing up. What was your childhood like?

Dinah glances downward as thoughts begin swirling in her head. Does she wanna know about the good things? The snippets of memories she has of her parents before that day of the New York City protest? The soft smile in her mother’s eyes as they dance through the house. The gruff laugh of her father as he picks her up and twirls her, telling her she’s his little girl. Perhaps she’d like to know about the day the cops showed up on Dinah’s doorstep with child services in tow. Or how the first family called her an abomination and told her she should have died with her parents. And the many more like them that followed over the years. Perhaps, she’d like to know how Dinah raised herself into adulthood one agonizing step at a time. No, that’s too much. So Dinah smiles softly, reminiscent of her mother, “Oh it wasn’t too bad. Could have been worse. It made me who I am though, so I’m grateful.”

What about your relationship with your family?

This is easier, Dinah sighs in relief. This she can talk about without having to skirt around the darker details of her adolescence.  “My mom was amazing. She loved to bake, so most of my best memories of them are in the kitchen helping her as much as a little kid can. My dad loved to eat, so he’d be in there too joking and attempting to steal a bite of whatever we were making. They loved each other so much. And me. And I love them...” Dinah trails off, the excitement of talking about her parents fading. For a split second, the pain of missing them seeps in, but just for a moment. In the next, she’s smiling again, pushing those sad memories back into the little vault at the back of her mind. 

Are you the only Nova in your family? Or were your parents Novas too? What about any siblings?

Dinah laughs, “No thankfully. My mom was human and my dad was a Nova. She knew long before Novas were in the public and she loved him for it. My mom was a bit of a fanatic for superheroes, so she was pretty much ecstatic that she’d fallen in love with someone with actual superpowers. She even named me after one of her favorite comic characters. So they taught me from early on that my abilities were a gift to be used wisely to help others, not to exploit. As for siblings...” Her voice falters as a memory surfaces of her parents jumping around in excitement as a ten almost eleven-year-old Dinah sits at the dining room table eating cereal. ‘What’s going on?’ She asks grinning as her mom turns to her, smile larger than she’d ever seen. ‘What would you say, if I told you that you were going to be a big sister?’ Young Dinah’s grin grows even bigger as she jumps up excitedly and begins dancing around the dining room with her parents. It was perhaps one of the last purely happy memories Dinah has. Two months later came the New York City Riot, and everything changed forever. “No, I don’t have any siblings,” she finally whispers.    

What’s your ability like? Is it easy to control or harder? Do you even like it?

“Oh, it’s great. I love being able to heal people. It takes a toll on me for sure, but I can handle it just fine. It’s so worth the pain just to make sure someone else is okay. I always kind of wanted to be a doctor, because I thought it would be a great way to put my abilities to good use. But college is expensive, especially med school. My parents had left me some money, but not enough. I used it instead to get through nursing school.” Dinah grins as a memory springs to mind. “I think the first time I ever healed someone was when I was about five or six. My mom had cut her hand with a knife and I don’t know something instinctual in me reached out and held her hand. I felt pain then as if my hand was being cut with a knife now. My mom screamed in fear because she didn’t fully understand what was happening. Then she saw that the wound on her own hand was completely healed, and the one on my own hand was healing over too. Faster than normal healing, but not super quick, ya know? It didn’t take us long to figure out how my ability worked. We spent a lot of time practicing and working on controlling it since, at the time, Novas were still in the dark. We had to hide what we were, my father and I.”

How would you describe your personality?

“I’m a nice person,” she squeaks out timidly. “I guess I'm kind of quiet too. People are always saying I should speak up more and stop being so shy...But I don't think I'm shy.” She purses her lips for a moment in thought. “I love being around people and listening to them talk, I'm not afraid to talk to people, that is. I just think I prefer to listen to other people's stories rather than share mine.” Dinah answers honestly. She knows that she probably should be a little bit chattier, and perhaps even a bit more assertive, but she can’t help it. She’s not a fan of confrontation.  

What do you think your greatest strengths and weaknesses are?

Dinah’s cheeks redden at the question. She’s not used to talking about herself so much, and especially not in a bragging way. “Most might say I’m too nice. They see it as a weakness that I try to see the good in everyone, but I don’t see it that way. I see it as a strength. It’s really easy to be pessimistic and see only the darkness, but the real strength is seeing the good too.” She offers a soft smile in thought. “For actual weaknesses, I guess I have trouble focusing on myself,” she lets out a nervous chuckle. “I tend to spend most of my time worrying about everyone else, that sometimes I forget to just stop and check in with myself if you know what I mean?”

Where and what were you doing the day the Nova Protection Act was enacted?

“I was at the hospital...They’d been talking about it for months on the news. I guess I never really thought it’d get passed? Like there was some worry in my mind, but I had faith that the people wouldn’t let it pass. But then it did and I was standing in a patient’s room fixing their IV. The tv was on and the sound was off, but I glanced up and I saw it right there on the evening news. I was already tired. I’d helped save a car crash victim hours earlier, and it was a twelve-hour shift to boot.” Dinah goes quiet for a minute as she gathered her thoughts. So, um, it took me a few minutes to actually process what they were saying. One of the doctors I worked with was a Nova too, and I remember like hearing him freaking out. He was yelling, and some of the other nurses were trying to calm him down. I was just standing there...in shock. I don’t really remember much immediately after. It’s all kind of a blur,” she sighs heavily.

Did you immediately run? Or did you try to obey the law and report to the Anti-Nova Force?

“I kind of wish I had,” Dinah answers, her eyes drifting toward the side, as she thought back to those first days of Th Siege. “I had hope that maybe it wouldn’t be bad. That maybe they really did have good intentions. But when they took me into custody I saw how they treated us. I experienced how they treated us. Like we were animals that needed to be caged and tamed. But the NPA had at least given us some rights. They weren’t allowed to truly imprison us unless we were caught using our abilities, especially against the Wardens. But it was awful. I saw so much pain that not even I could heal. I was stuck in custody for almost a month....but so many never escaped. So many of us are trapped within those glorified prison camps.  

How have you survived this last year and a half or so? Did you have any help or were you all alone? How did you find Yalena’s Sanctuary?

“They were transporting us the night I escaped. It was raining. The driver must have hit a bad spot because we were hydroplaning and the bus ran into the ditch. Most of us were dosed with Novacaine just enough to suppress our abilities.The bus was on its side. The driver was laying awkwardly. His head turned in an awful position. Almost everyone was hurt somehow, especially the Wardens...” Dinah choked up just a bit. “I wanted to help them, even though it was their job to keep us locked up. But I couldn’t, the Novacaine was still in my system. A few of the other Novas realized now was our chance to run. I joined them. We stuck together after that, that is until one of Yalena’s scouts found us and told us that we’d be safe there.” Dinah skips over the details of her year on the run. It’s not a time she really likes to reflect on.

What were you doing when the raid happened? How did you respond to the flood of Wardens? How quickly did you go through Yalena’s portal?

“I was in the makeshift medical wing. It’s where I spent most of my time after arriving at Yalena’s. Most nights I actually slept on a cot in there in case of an emergency. Or if I just got too exhausted to go back to my quarters. That’s actually what had happened that night. One of the scouts had come back with a gunshot wound. It had taken a lot out of me. I was half asleep when the sounds of screaming started...” Dinah’s voice fades as the question takes her back to that moment. The children, oh god the children. There weren’t many at the Sanctuary, but it sounded like the Wardens weren’t worrying about whether they killed anyone or not. No this was all about controlling Novas, and a few dead wasn’t going to hurt their consciences. That more than almost anything broke Dinah’s heart. The chaos had her jumping up, despite still healing from the gunshot wound she’d absorbed earlier. She was running and suddenly Yalena was there opening a portal. It looked like the Wardens were using more than just tranquilizers. Bullets were flying everywhere. Dinah knew she was needed here, to help the wounded. But Yalena yelled at her to get through the portal, that there were already wounded through it that needed immediate attention. It was that command that got her through the next hours of chaos. She had been given a job to do and no matter how awful everything was she was going to do it. After that, she slept for almost two days from all the healing she’d had to do.

What has living in The Imperium been like for you? Do you feel safer than before? Is it better or worse than on the run, or Yalena’s Sanctuary?

A soft giggle escapes. “It’s really nice,” she answers rather quickly. “It’s the nicest place I’ve probably ever stayed. Even my apartment back in New York wasn’t this nice, or clean. Plus I hadn’t had a hot shower in forever.” Dinah nods as she recalls the first shower she took after arriving there. She may have actually cried tears of joy, though she’s not certain because of the water from the shower. “Plus, the library is so nice. It reminds me of when I younger and actually had time to read before I spent most of my time working just to pay rent. I feel bad though. Not even half of us made it through the portal before it closed. And I know that we are all terrified of the possibility that this whole thing is just a fantasy that we’ll have to wake up from. But I hope, and believe that we’re safe now.”  

The last question. If war broke out between us and the humans, which side will you be on?

Dinah’s silent for a moment as the question sinks in. Certainly, it makes sense that this all might lead to war. After all, revolutions start from oppressed people standing up for themselves. So logically, it would most likely would, happen. But Dinah’s heart wishes otherwise. She still clings to the belief that humans are good and they will see the error of their ways. That peace is still an option. It’s what her parents died to believe. But whether a war will happen is not the question she was asked, Dinah finally accepts. “I don’t like to think about that,” she finally answers honestly.  

REBELLION IS ESSENTIAL

Empathic Healing 🡒

The ability to shift wounds between two individuals regardless of whether it is physical, mental, or spiritual. Through this ability, the user has some cellular regenerative abilities that allow them to heal faster than the original owner of the wound(s), but only just a little faster depending on their strength, the wound itself, and how life-threatening it is. If they absorb deadly wounds, they may just narrowly escape death themselves. Though if they are at maximum strength there is a possibility that they could manage to take on the wounds of a recently deceased person, thus reviving them. However, even at maximum strength, there is a high chance they might die from the wounds themselves.

REVOLUTION IS COMING

Hercules 🡒 It was after you had been living at the Sanctuary for a little while when one of the scouts said there were rumors of a Nova nearby that was badly wounded. So you kicked yourself into gear and joined the scouting party. It didn’t take your group long to find The Strong Man. He was indeed badly hurt, and it took a lot of you to save him. So much so that it was days before you fully recovered. But when you woke up, he was there watching over you protectively. He was grateful for what you’d done and wanted to thank you the moment that you were conscious. You and The Strong Man quickly became friends, despite his gruff exterior and now you don’t know what you’d do without their friendship. The two of you managed to keep each other strong even when things get really bad. 

LIBRA IS CLOSED 

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Jonda cynecki hasn't seen her twin sister Wanda in 13 years and doesn't hold out much hope that she ever will. Their last contact came at a family gathering in Ohio for Christmas, after which Wanda returned to her home in Key West, Fla. Then she disappeared. She didn't call, didn't write and couldn't be reached. When her parents died several years later, her siblings had to use intermediaries to get through to her. She called to borrow money about a year ago. Since then, the only sign she's still alive is that no one has heard anything to the contrary. And yet Jonda, 54, a school librarian, says wistfully of Wanda, "There isn't a day that goes by that something doesn't remind me of her."

Usually that something is doing the laundry. Whenever Jonda goes down to her basement to wash clothes, she sees, tucked under the stairs, an old tandem stroller. Her father crafted it from spare parts, painted it white and wrapped rubber around its wooden wheels. Jonda won't get rid of the stroller, even though it provokes sorrow and anger toward the sister who walked out on her family. What Jonda doesn't know--and might never know--is why.

Estrangement from siblings is a powerful ache not only for Jonda but for millions of other Americans as well--especially during the year-end holidays, when the absence of relatives is most poignant. Many of the 77 million baby boomers, now well into middle age, live farther from their brothers and sisters than did previous generations. And with each passing year, they face more of the life passages that often trigger splits with siblings, particularly arguments over the care of elderly parents or over their estates. At the same time, boomers have more divorces and fewer children and are less tethered to neighbors than were their parents and grandparents, so they are more in need of strong relationships with sisters and brothers--the most-enduring ties many of us have in our lives. Eighty-five percent of adult Americans have at least one sibling, yet an estimated 3% to 10% have completely severed contact with a brother or sister.

Such absolute estrangements may not be the norm, but experts who study family relationships believe they are on the rise. Psychologist Carol Netzer, author of Cutoffs: How Family Members Who Sever Relationships Can Reconnect, thinks that today's broader cultural freedoms have made it easier for people to say goodbye to traditions and to relatives. "The nuclear family is not as tight as it once was," she says. Some rifts reflect larger trends. The Woodstock generation, Netzer explains, was full of young people leaving their families to lose themselves in drugs or join religious groups, political movements and communes. "Often, when that ripple in the culture passes," says Netzer, "people go back to their families." Terry Hargrave, family therapist and author of Families and Forgiveness, believes that while the psychological self-help movement has been largely positive, "it teaches the individual that 'you're the most important thing; family is not.'"

The origins of a sibling breach often can be traced to childhood. Psychologist Stephen P. Bank, co-author of The Sibling Bond, observes that eldest children who are expected to care for younger siblings may feel overburdened and resentful. Children born too many years apart, says Bank, may never share common interests or developmental stages. For them, slender ties are sometimes easy to cut.

Nancy B. (who asked that her full name not be used) is a management consultant with a sister older by six years and a brother older by 12. She doesn't speak to either of them but for differing reasons. "The age gap was so significant," she says. As a child, she worshiped her brother, whose trips home from college were cause for celebration. A few years ago, he stopped returning her calls. She doesn't know why.

On the other hand, she was never comfortable with her sister. "There was always tension between us," Nancy, now 52, says. "I couldn't figure it out." Nancy ended contact after the sister attached herself to yet another violent man, and Nancy felt relegated to the role of caretaker--for someone who didn't want to be helped. The three siblings were last together 25 years ago at their mother's funeral. Nancy still feels the loss, she says, "but my heart isn't breaking anymore. I've figured out a way to be in the world without trying to make love happen where it isn't."

Yet in other families, psychologist Bank says, large age differences can help alleviate competition for toys, friends and parental attention. Some older siblings enjoy being caregivers, often in exchange for adoration. Studies show bonds among sisters tend to be strongest, epitomized by Bessie and Sadie Delany, co-authors of Having Our Say: The Delany Sisters' First 100 Years. And when parents are absent, neglectful or abusive, siblings often fill the void by forming tight bonds, as did the brothers in the movie Radio Flyer.

Major life changes such as marriage, divorce, birth, illness or death can trigger a separation, Netzer says, but usually only if tensions have been building for years. Consider, for example, the case of Michael Carr, 42, a money manager, and his older brother Steven, who ended contact with each other two years ago. When they were growing up, Michael saw Steven, two years older, as his best friend and guardian angel. "We were really close," Michael says. "He was the ringleader in the neighborhood. He was my hero." (Steven did not respond to requests for an interview.)

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n the early '70s, Michael says, Steven became temperamental and less reliable, no longer resembling the person Michael had admired. Steven wasn't crazy, Michael says, just increasingly moody and self-centered. About six years ago, their father was hospitalized, and the brothers went to Florida to see him. They stayed with their stepmother, with whom Steven had a quarrel. Steven told Michael he was going to the hospital to tell their father about it. "It was ridiculous," Michael says. "My father was at death's door, and my brother wanted to complain to him about my stepmother! I had to physically restrain him from going."

Their father died that night, and Michael hasn't seen his brother since the funeral. "I wouldn't be surprised if I never see him again," Michael says. "If I saw him on the street I would talk to him, but I wouldn't let him back in my life. I don't know who he is."

Money issues are a common source of strife between brothers and sisters: Why wasn't that loan repaid? Who can afford the bigger house? How should the family business be run? Behavior outside the family's value system can also trip the switch: coming out of the closet, marrying interracially or converting to a new religion. Then there are cutoffs linked to extreme emotional states, the reasons for which--such as untreated mental illness, substance abuse, incest and violence--may never be brought out into the open.

Wanda's older brother Charles Bucklew has only a few clues as to what might have caused his sister's self-banishment, including her drinking in the midst of their nearly teetotaling Lutheran family. Wanda, who no doubt has her own analysis of the split, never explained; her siblings never asked. And she could not be located by TIME reporters in Key West and New York. "There may be some reason out there that if you knew, it'd bring you to your knees, and you'd say, 'Oh, my God!'" says Bucklew. "But I don't know."

The drive to create sibling bonds or something like them is to some experts primordial--even for an only child. Parents always have a disproportionate power over offspring, but siblings teach peer-level tolerance, loyalty and constancy--qualities that later apply to colleagues, friends and lovers. In moderation, sibling discord is useful, says psychologist Bank. "If the frustration is too great, it cripples you. But we all need a level of frustration in our lives in order to move ahead."

In a 1996 study of people ages 18 to 86, 33% of those surveyed described their sibling relationships as "supportive," and only 11% were "hostile," with the rest falling somewhere in between. "I understand that there is sibling rivalry because I have two brothers and a sister," says Robert Stewart, chairman of the psychology department at Michigan's Oakland University. "But if something came up, and I needed to be on the other side of the country because one of them called, I'd go. There's not a whole lot of people in the world I'd do that for." Most people think of "rivalry" and "siblings" as synonymous and negative, he says, "but I think of it as a close affectional relationship where affection is not necessarily shown in a Hallmark card kind of way."

The sibling relationship of D.B. (who asked that her name not be used) won't ever be confused with a greeting card. As a child, she looked up to her brother, 3 1/2 years older. After his marriage broke up, though, D.B. didn't like the way he treated his ex-wife. Well after the two divorced, he abandoned their original settlement agreement, demanding half the house and full custody of their daughter. D.B. saw his demands as unfair--and didn't think much of his parenting skills. "I just felt he was such a pig," she says. So she stopped talking to him--for seven years. "I come from a long line of grudge holders," she says. "They like their grudges. They air them and walk them and make jokes about them--embellish them."

The silence ended, though, when an aunt died, and D.B. and her brother were the only relatives left to arrange her burial. "I remember thinking, Damn, now I have to see my brother." But the two reconciled somewhat and now talk occasionally on the phone. D.B., now 54, says if she ever needed money, she wouldn't hesitate to ask him for it. She has no money to offer him if the situation were reversed but says, "I would give him lots of time."

Often, estranged siblings are struck by a sudden yearning to reconnect. Says Bank: "Your children leave home, your friends are sick, the leaves fall off the trees, and you say, 'Well, what do I have from my past?' And for better or worse, you've got this sibling who might have been a pain in the neck but who probably knows more about what it was like to live in your childhood home than anybody else."

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Yet even for siblings who wish to reconcile, breaking the ice is hard. "The difficulty most of us have is how do you pick up the telephone after so many years?" says Stewart. "People get into a pattern, and even though they're not comfortable in it, they can't imagine an alternative. Or the amount of courage and energy it would take to try to change may be beyond what they're capable of doing right now."

The ability to overlook imperfections for the sake of a relationship is one hallmark of maturity. Siblings may decide to forgive one another once they have their own children. For Mark Horton, 44, a recent falling-out he had with his eldest sister still baffles him. He's not sure what happened or why. Now that they are back in tentative contact, they still haven't talked about it. "It was kind of a Twilight Zone episode," he says. But he does hope things heal. Horton (whose sister declined to be interviewed) says she has done remarkable things for him--sending him money when he was a poor college student and then being the only one to show up at his Harvard graduation. And he wants his four children to know their aunt. "It places them in the world," he says. "They're not comets flying through space randomly; they're part of a solar system."

Reconciliation, experts say, is almost always worth an attempt. But about 40% of the families in Hargrave's clinical practice fail at reconciliation, mostly because when difficult issues get stirred up, no one is willing to take responsibility for what happened. Says Hargrave: "The person who has left just seals off again."

For Douglas Matthews, 49, a human-resources consultant, finally breaking off from his parents and three brothers three years ago brought immense relief--and not just to him. "I see it as the best thing he could have ever done for himself," says his wife Teri-Ann, "and for me and the kids."

Matthews has always been reluctant to discuss his family situation because he felt that well-meaning people just wouldn't get it that his parents and siblings were harmful to his happiness. "I learned early on that very few people understand the positive aspects of estrangement," he says. For decades, Matthews waffled between trying to be part of the family and retreating. He would try to initiate changes but says no one was willing to join in. Over time, and with therapy, he discovered that the yearning he felt was based on an unrealizable ideal of what his three brothers might have been to him. "A real brother would be there no matter what," Matthews says, "and not have an agenda for you--just accept where you are and listen. But it would be unconditional--nothing could break it. And also do the stupid things, you know. Go to a ball game together." But what Matthews has with his wife and two sons is no fantasy. "I have a home," he says, "and that's what I didn't have before. And I cherish it."

Cutting off can be beneficial in some cases, says psychology professor Stewart, if what you're getting is nothing but negativity or grief. But it's "escape learning," he says, and if the other people involved are ever willing to work on the problem, "you won't know it because they're gone."

For 15 years Keith Bearden, 33, had given up on his family, including his elder brother Dean, 38. Their parents' divorce cleaved the family into separate camps, and Keith wanted no part of either one. "I was really angry," he says. He also felt that he, a self-described "meek intellectual," had nothing in common with his tattooed, motorcycle-riding, machinist brother. Then Dean started telephoning a couple of years ago, just to see how Keith was doing. Keith, to his surprise, was happy to get the calls. Dean says he had no particular plan, that he had never even thought about the years when they were out of contact. "If you were never close," he says, "you never miss it."

But becoming a parent got Dean thinking about family, and as Keith says, Dean was never judgmental or bitter about what had happened in childhood. Now the brothers talk regularly. They visit each other every few months and have realized they have the same sense of humor, the same taste for adventure, and they notice the same things--someone's weird shoes on the subway or a cute woman in a bar.

Keith says he's much happier accepting rather than resenting the differences in his family, that it's helped him with all his relationships and that Dean deserves the credit for helping him reconnect. "Dean kept the door open, and I eventually walked back in," he says.

Jonda Cynecki hasn't closed the door on her sister but is at a loss as to how anyone can pass through it. Since the death of their parents, Jonda has felt an increasingly acute sense of the irreplaceable nature of family. "There's that line that connects you," she says of her missing twin, "and I don't know if it'll ever be broken. Certainly when one of us passes away--and she could be gone now--I don't know if I'll ever know that." Cynecki pauses, wipes away tears, and collects herself. "Someday, I really need to find her. But just not today. Not today."