#i looked up the cost of second parent adoption in the US and it ranges from $200 to $3000 depending on the complexity and location | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maslows-pyramid-scheme · 2 years ago

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the psychological distress likely ties to the domestic violence & sexual assault that bisexuals often experience. the domestic violence & sexual assault often relates to bisexuals being in closer proximity to heterosexuals, who have a tendency to be violent and homophobic. im not dismissing that whatsoever and sure, bisexuals do experience privilege which also sometimes backfires bc at the end of the day they're not privileged over heteros nor completely safe from homophobia. i dont think having a privilege over homosexuals means said privilege doesnt come with some downfalls. bisexuals facing those things is tied to their bisexuality being persecuted and their proximity to heterosexuals.

Well, yes, what's your point? I've already agreed that our marginalisations are different and that there's privilege in being able to pursue a romantic relationship without social backlash. I just don't think that these factors translate into an overall better social position; like, you're arguing that it's possible to compare being a victim of a hate crime and conversion therapy with being the victim of domestic terrorism and sexual violence.

It's not better, it's not worse, it's just different.

(And it's not homophobia, it's biphobia - the specific discrimination we face on account of our bisexuality.)

i read the document you sent (first one linked) & also read the blogpost. it clearly states that the child was intended to have two moms, with the lesbian & bi woman being intended as the parents. but then the court doc says differently- that this was not planned between them and that the bisexual woman was intended to be the sole parent of the child. if the lesbian mom did not want to be a parent to the child, and knew that without adoption she would not have any parental rights to this child-- why would she 1. put her own name in the birth certificate and 2. fight for the parental rights to the child and express upset over losing all parental rights adoption is an expensive process so i doubt that she did all that only to be like hmm i just dont wanna adopt for the fun of it. and i also doubt that ultimately a hetero couple in similar circumstances would have to take these same exact steps and that if the lesbian mom were a man instead, that she would have to go thru the same hurdles to have parental rights. but perhaps i am mistaken there. that said-- i understand their marriage being annulled. im kind of confused by some of the points you listed tho. do u mean in point 5 that the lesbian partner did NOT want parental rights to the child?

The sperm donor agreement was seen as invalid by the parties, meaning neither the bisexual mother nor the heterosexual father believed it had any legal force when when they signed it. If you read through the findings, you'll see that the Court established (relinking in case anybody also wants to read it):

That the bisexual mother intended to have a child [1]-[4], that she intended to raise it with the lesbian mother [23], and that the child would know its biological father as its father [27], [31]-[35].

That the bisexual mother and the lesbian wife were to be listed on the birth certificate [15], but that the lesbian wife would need to do a second parent adoption to be considered the legal parent of the child [44].

That the lesbian wife did neither completed the second parent adoption nor raised the child as being of the marriage/as being an issue of the marriage (in other words: the parentage of the child wasn't disputed at first).

Why did she put her name on the birth certificate? Who knows.

Why is she fighting for parental rights now? Well, if she really is abusive, then I'd imagine she's fighting for parental rights now for the same reason that any abuser fights for parental rights after the separation (to perpetrate abuse). I could also ask - if she was that upset about the child, then why didn't she raise the child as a being of the marriage/as being an issue of the marriage in the divorce (my point in point 5)?

Would a heterosexual couple need to go through the same steps? Yes, actually - if the father is not biologically related to the child, then the father needs to complete a second parent adoption, as listing him on the birth certificate wouldn't be enough to establish legal parentage (different rules apply to when two men want a child).

also reading the doc further, it states: "The Uniform Parentage Act that Oklahoma adopted was enacted in 2006 and does not take into account same-sex marriage, and there is no presumption that the wife of the mother is automatically the presumed parent of a child born during the marriage." is this not exactly what we are discussing? legal privileges that you may or may not gain via homophobic legal double standards? it states in the doc itself that this is bc a same-sex-marriage is not recognised in a parental act therefore the child would have to be adopted if the person has a same-sex partner. im not gonna argue or dispute anything about the lesbian mom's character but we're discussing using legal homophobia to one's advantage here. would it only be unfair if the lesbian is a decent and unquestionable person? or would it still be her fault bc she didnt chuck thousands in to adopt a child when her name is listed as that child's parent in a birth certificate?

I think you need to look at the rest of the section; the judge states the Act does not take same-sex couples into account when establishing the parentage of children born via artificial intelligence. I don't know if it's the best system, but I think same-sex couples will be treated differently simply because same-sex couples cannot conceive a child together naturally (yet!) (I wrote more about the different pros and cons of different presumptions in another response, which I've already linked).

(These laws also apply to men who aren't biologically related to their partners' children which, imho, is not a bad thing - men don't need easier access to girls!)

Anyway, I don't think the case concludes anything about bisexuality/lesbianism and privilege. If the lesbian mother had undergone the artificial insemination and had birthed the child, the Court would have theoretically ruled in her favour* (and if the lesbian mother had undergone the artificial insemination and won the custody - would you still be against the ruling?).

@menalez

“[biphobia] cannot meaningfully become an axis of oppression without implying LG people have privilege”

This doesn’t make sense to me? We are oppressed by *heterosexuals* because they think our attraction to both sexes is unnatural and they hold the structural power to punish and abuse us for that, which they do. Who is claiming LG are doing this? Not attacking you, just curious because I’m baffled by this argument against biphobia.

Oh, it's because they construe privilege/oppression along a straight line. At present, they understand it as 'heterosexuality' on the privileged side and 'homosexuality' on the oppressed side, with bisexuality stretching between the two (presumably a bisexual who is 'more straight' is 'more privileged' and a bisexual who is 'more SSA' is 'more oppressed') (i know lol). They think it looks a little like this:

Heterosexuality | (more osa bisexuality) | (50/50 bisexuality) | (more ssa bisexuality) Homosexuality

They suggest we - homosexuals and bisexuals - can't be put in the same category of oppression because our experiences with oppression are so different and uneven. But they're also against making biphobia its own axis of oppression, because they assume any attempt to do so would lump non-bisexuals together like this:

Monosexuality (heterosexuality, homosexuality) | Bisexuality

It's an illogical argument derived from stupid philosophical rationalisations. I think the crux of the issue is an unwillingness to recognise bisexuality as a discrete sexuality - they understand that bisexuals can be oppressed, but only insofar as we're 'gay-lite'/'lesbian-lite' (which is where we get 'biphobia is just misogyny + homophobia' from). In reality, it's like you said - heterosexuals think our bisexuality is unnatural and they 'punish' us for it.

#* i use 'theoretically' because i'm not sure there's a comparable case #i looked up the cost of second parent adoption in the US and it ranges from $200 to $3000 depending on the complexity and location #i don't think this would have been a complex case at the time of the child's birth and i'd be surprised if it cost more than $1000 #(i think it should be free for same-sex couples - i think that's the best possible way of managing the issue)#biphobia

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numbknee · 2 years ago

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QUICK TELL ME UR HCS FOR CARTMAN AND/OR KYLE

UHHHH OK!

i've made some other hc posts before (here, here, and here) and also a post arguing why I think cartman's not a dom here lol. but here's a few more I guess??

kyle is slightly shorter than cartman throughout their childhood, maybe like an inch or inch and a half. when they get to middle school cartman hits puberty first and ends up taller than the other main 4 boys for like 2 months and he teases the FUCK out of all of them, calling them midgets or munchkins and being obnoxious as hell about it. but then one by one they all shoot up like bamboo and cartman ends up being the shortest out of all of them and it makes him VERY pissed off lmao

in fact he gets pissed enough for him to pull some scheme where he tries to surreptitiously wear stilts to school under his pants (which actually works for a while but then fails miserably cuz he isn't able to keep balance, falls over like an idiot, and exposes himself) or even trying to get that surgery where your legs get broken in several places and lengthened a few inches with metal screws (yes this is a real thing here's an article about it lol). ultimately I'd say as a full grown adult cartman ends up being like 5'7" or 5'8". he still tries to wear shoes with height inserts tho

kyle is the tallest out of the boys, like maybe hitting 6'1" or 6'2" by the end of high school, because I hc he's at least tall enough to dunk a basketball and that's around how tall you have to be to do that (at least according to google I don't play basketball myself)

speaking of puberty related stuff kyle ends up being a pretty hairy dude. like he can easily grow a full beard by the time he's 19 and has to shave pretty frequently to keep the stubble away. he tries to maintain the clean-shaven look for a while but halfway through college he gives up cuz it's too much work and he lets it grow out thinking he'll hate it but is too tired to care. but then he finds he actually likes how it looks on him and gets complimented on it a lot so he ends up keeping the beard pretty much the rest of his life. he also has a decent amount of chest hair, like maybe not quite as much as his dad but he's still got his genes lol

cartman on the other hand has pretty patchy facial hair so he can never really manage to grow a full beard, like maybe some stubble at best. (although I guess this isn't really a hc if you look at their post-covid designs? lol but i digress)

I think I stole this hc from someone but kyle's parents initially had some fertility issues when they were trying to have kids (like sheila had undiagnosed PCOS or something similar) so when sheila got pregnant with kyle they were both surprised and relieved. after kyle was born though they didn't want to go through the hoops and costs of fertility treatment again which is why they decided to adopt for their second kid

i wrote this in the tags somewhere on a previous post but cartman has a surprisingly nice singing voice esp as he gets older, at least when he's not trying to be obnoxious. he's a tenor with a kind of raspy, gruff quality to his voice. think like tom waits with a slightly higher range. he's got good vocal control and hella pipes so he can belt out crazy high notes that blow your panties clean off lmao. he sings for kyle at their wedding and kyle is genuinely touched and impressed. down the line he often asks cartman to be the one who sings lullabies for their kids cuz he likes listening to him too. of course cartman uses his powers for evil as well and often sings loud and obnoxious when he's cooking or in the car while driving just to piss kyle off when he's trying to concentrate on something. when their kids get old enough they join in too and kyle is LIVID

cartman's always gonna be a chunky dude but kyle does convince him to work out occasionally after they start dating. of course cartman doesn't go for the classic "it's good for you" schtick because he's heard it before a million times and doesn't give two shits. but what finally gets him to do it is that kyle casually mentions "y'know if you exercise and build up some muscle and stamina, you'll get a lot less tired during sex and be able to go for longer. also we can go together and you can ogle me in public as much as you want". needless to say cartman immediately goes out and buys a gym membership lol. also cartman finds out he really likes those fuckin jazzercise/zoomba classes cuz he can dance around like an idiot with no judgment. and he enjoys causing unnecessary drama by talking shit with the gym moms behind each others' backs

i'm sure I have more floating around in my brain but oh god this post is getting long so imma stop ahahaha 😅

#ask #blehbiez #my post

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hollyharper · 3 years ago

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I think DC neds to do a five year time skip. Take their entire continuity and more it forward five years. Give us fans something new.

Maybe Bruce and Selina finally tied the knot, maybe they even have a little Helena Wayne. Their starting to train her to follow in their footsteps. Just have a bunch of sevens of the little three year old doing splits with her mom, learning how to analyze samples with her dad. Damien teaching her to fight. And of course, all the older siblings spoiling her rotten. Bruce is simply happy to spend time with his wife and kids. Selina still loves her cats. The house is over run with them, domestic and wild.

Dick and Babs should definitely be married. They have a two year old boy, James, after Barbara’s brother. Maybe even start with Barbara’s second pregnancy. This time a girl named Mary, after Dick’s mom. They have a large apartment in Blùdhavan. Dick is still Nightwing. Barbara struggles juggling her roles as his partner and wife, Batman, and The Bird’s Oracle, and being a mom. The Alfred Pennyworth foundation is thriving, and Babs resented reclaimed Gotham Clean Energy. Being the genius she is is Barbara refuses to send her kids to public school. Dick worries that adds to much extra stress to her life. She loves it. To thank her for all of her hard work, Dick brings home little gifts for her at least once a week. These presents range from chocolate bars to new computer equipment. As much as he loves when Babs cooks, Dick usually prepares their meals.

What would truly be a bomb, would be to put Jason in serious relationship. Personally, I would go with Helena Bertenilli. They started working together as partners. As they spent more time together, it became clear that they both were looking for a more intimate relationship. Their shared understanding of loss brought them closer together, until their relationship turned into lovers. Helen’s exceptional skill as a history teacher, earned her a place at Gotham High. Seeing Jason’s talent with kids, her confided him to get a teaching job as well. He mostly teaches P.E. at Gotham Academy, but also has a black smith class. He makes knives and sword son the weekend, and sells them to make money on the side. On the Battlefield, Huntress and Red Hood are inseparable, and on of the best teams Batman has. They both deeply love each other, but are afraid to talk about commitment.

Tim and Stephine are currently have issues. They’ve had an on and off relationship for the last year. Tim has entirely taken over running Wayne Enterprises. He works all day, and is out as Red Robin most of the night. His exhaustion puts a massive strain on their relationship. He feels bad about having so little time for Steph, and to show her how much he loves, her is planning to propose. Stephine feels neglected. As much as she loves Tim, his constant stress weighs on her. After talking with her mentors, she has decided that time apart would be good for both her and Tim, but she doesn’t know how to tell him. Steph has been job bouncing for awhile, another reason she’s cautious about leaving.

Cass is still Bruce’s angel child. She has little interest in dating. Her main focus is always the mission. Barbara believes she needs to get a job and stop relying on Bruce for funding. The only idea she even considered, was Helena’s suggestion to become a federal agent. Bruce strongly opposes the idea. After her father died, Cass has been trying to patch things up with her mom, who unsurprisingly wants Cass to join the League of Shadows.

At first, Damien was reluctant to accept Selina, though he would never admit, he was still hoping for his parents to work things out. When Bruce married Selina, it became clear Talia wasn’t coming back. Over time, she grew on him. Selina was the one to figure out that Damien missed his mother. After some negotiations, she convinced Bruce to invite Talia over for the holidays. It became an eagerly anticipated tradition for Damien. Talia as brings food and gifts for him. It’s the one time of year when Damian’s almost always smiles. Dami adores his little sister, and has even sworn to protect her at all costs. His relationship with Flatline died out very quickly after their meeting. Mostly, because of how immature they both were. Four years, and a sweet ex later, they meet once again on the field of battle. Again sparks flew, leading to a passionate reunion, and another hero and villain love story.

Jade and Lian were recently reunited. Their relationship is still on rocky ground, but Jade is determined to make up for the time she missed with her daughter. She makes every effort to connect with Lian, even while fighting shadows from her past. Every night, to two will sit on the roof outside of Lian’s window. Their shared interest in astronomy is a safe topic, one they touch on often. Lian wants a relationship with her mother, but is afraid Jade will leave again. Jade’s proud that her daughter took the name Cheshire Cat, and love watching her daughter in action, even though it’s usually from a distance.

Dinah and Oliver have been married for a few years. They found out pretty soon that they can’t have kids. After the news, Dinah went into depression. Their friends and family stepped up to help. Bruce tried to convince them to adopt. Neither want to, until they meet a feisty young girl named Kayleigh. Kayleigh is closed off, with deep wounds. She’s trying to become a vigilant in Star City. Her methods are overly violent. Oliver sees his younger self in her and brings her under his wing. Dinah takes a little to warm up to her. Kayleigh gives them both quite a bit of trouble, but their determined to read her. But Kayleigh’s secrets are something that could shatter their belief in her. She knows the day the find out, will be the last time she has anything close to a family.

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96harmony96 · 3 years ago

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Chapter 2

Just before I exited the elevator into the vestibule of Waters Field & Leaman, the advertising firm I worked for on the twentieth floor, Lauren whispered in my ear, “Think about me all day.”

I squeezed her hand surreptitiously in the crowded car. “Always do.”

She continued the ride up to the top floor, which housed the headquarters of Jauregui Industries. The Crossfire was her, one of many properties she owned throughout the city, including the apartment complex I lived in.

I tried not to pay attention to that. My mom was a career trophy wife. She’d given up my father’s love for an affluent lifestyle, which I couldn’t relate to at all. I’d prefer love over wealth any day, but I suppose that was easy for me to say because I had money—a sizable investment portfolio—of my own. Not that I ever touched it. I wouldn’t. I’d paid too high a price and couldn’t imagine anything worth the cost.

Megumi, the receptionist, buzzed me through the glass security door and greeted me with a big smile. She was a pretty woman, young like me, with a stylish bob of glossy black hair framing stunning Asian features.

“Hey,” I said, stopping by her desk. “Got any plans for lunch?”

“I do now.”

“Awesome.” My grin was wide and genuine. As much as I loved Cary and enjoyed spending time with him, I needed girlfriends, too. Cary had already started building a network of acquaintances and friends in our adopted city, but I’d been sucked into the Lauren vortex almost from the outset. As much as I’d prefer to spend every moment with her, I knew it wasn’t healthy. Female friends would give it to me straight when I needed it, and I was going to have to cultivate those friendships if I wanted them.

Setting off, I headed down the long hallway to my cubicle. When I reached my desk, I put my bag and purse in the bottom drawer, keeping my smartphone out so I could silence it. I found a text from Cary: I’m sorry, baby girl.

“Cary Taylor,” I sighed. “I love you . . . even when you’re pissing me off.”

And he’d pissed me off royally. No woman wanted to come home to a sexual clusterfuck in progress on her living room floor. Especially not while in the middle of a fight with her new girlfriend.

I texted back, Block off the wknd 4 me if u can.

There was a long pause and I imagined him absorbing my request. Damn, he texted back finally. Must be some ass kicking u have planned.

“Maybe a little,” I muttered, shuddering as I remembered the . . . orgy I’d walked in on. But mostly I thought Cary and I needed to spend some quality downtime together. We hadn’t been living in Manhattan long. It was a new town for us, new apartment, new jobs and experiences, new partners for both of us. We were out of our element and struggling, and since we both had barge loads of baggage from our pasts, we didn’t handle struggling well. Usually we leaned on each other for balance, but we hadn’t had much time for that lately. We really needed to make the time. Up for a trip to Vegas? Just u and me?

Fuck yeah!

K . . . more later. As I silenced my phone and put it away, my gaze passed briefly over the two collage photo frames next to my monitor—one filled with photos of both of my parents and one of Cary, and the other filled with photos of me and Lauren. Lauren had put the latter collection together herself, wanting me to have a reminder of her just like the reminder she had of me on her desk. As if I needed it . . .

I loved having those images of the people I loved close by: my mom with her golden cap of curls and her bombshell smile, her curvy body scarcely covered by a tiny bikini as she enjoyed the French Riviera on my stepdad’s yacht; my stepfather, Richard Stanton, looking regal and distinguished, his silver hair oddly complementing the looks of his much younger wife; and Cary, who was captured in all his photogenic glory, with his lustrous brown hair and sparkling green eyes, his smile wide and mischievous. That million-dollar face was starting to pop up in magazines everywhere and soon would grace billboards and bus stops advertising Grey Isles clothing.

I looked across the strip of hallway and through the glass wall that encased Mark Garrity’s very small office and saw his jacket hung over the back of his Aeron chair, even though the man himself wasn’t in sight. I wasn’t surprised to find him in the break room scowling into his coffee mug; he and I shared a java dependency.

“I thought you had the hang of it,” I said, referring to his trouble with the one-cup coffee maker.

“I do, thanks to you.” Mark lifted his head and offering a charmingly crooked smile. He had gleaming dark skin, a trim goatee, and soft brown eyes. In addition to being easy on the eyes, he was a great boss—very open to educating me about the ad business and quick to trust that he didn’t have to show me how to do something twice. We worked well together, and I hoped that would be the case for a long time to come.

“Try this,” he said, reaching for a second steaming cup waiting on the counter. He handed it to me and I accepted it gratefully, appreciating that he’d been thoughtful about adding cream and sweetener, which was how I liked it.

I took a cautious sip, since it was hot, then coughed over the unexpected—and unwelcome—flavor. “What is this?”

“Blueberry-flavored coffee.”

Abruptly, I was the one scowling. “Who the hell wants to drink that?”

“Ah, see . . . it’s our job to figure out who, then sell this to them.” He lifted his mug in a toast. “Here’s to our latest account!”

Wincing, I straightened my spine and took another sip.

* * *

I was pretty sure the sickly sweet taste of artificial blueberries was still coating my tongue two hours later. Since it was time for my break, I started an Internet search for Dr. Terrence Lucas, a man who’d clearly rubbed Lauren the wrong way when I’d seen the two men together at dinner the night before. I hadn’t gotten any further than typing the doctor’s name in the search box when my desk phone rang.

“Mark Garrity’s office,” I answered. “Camila Cabello speaking.”

“Are you serious about Vegas?” Cary asked without preamble.

“Totally.”

There was a pause. “Is this when you tell me you’re moving in with your billionaire girlfriend and I’ve got to go?”

“What? No. Are you nuts?” I squeezed my eyes shut, understanding how insecure Cary was but thinking we were too far along in our friendship for those kinds of doubts. “You’re stuck with me for life, you know that.”

“And you just up and decided we should go to Vegas?”

“Pretty much. Figured we could sip mojitos by the pool and live off room service for a couple days.”

“I’m not sure how much I can pitch in for that.”

“Don’t worry, it’s on Lauren. her plane, her hotel. We’ll just cover our food and drinks.” A lie, since I planned on covering everything except the airfare, but Cary didn’t need to know that.

“And she’s not coming with us?”

I leaned back in my chair and stared at one of the photos of Lauren. I missed her already and it’d been only a couple of hours since we’d been together. “she’s got business in Arizona, so she’ll share the flights back and forth, but it’ll be just you and me in Vegas. I think we need it.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled harshly. “I could do with a change of scenery and some quality time with my best girl.”

“Okay, then. She wants to fly out by eight tomorrow night.”

“I’ll start packing. Want me to put a bag together for you, too?”

“Would you? That’d be great!” Cary could’ve been a stylist or personal shopper. He had serious talent when it came to clothes.

“camila?”

“Yeah?”

He sighed. “Thank you for putting up with my shit.”

“Shut up.”

After we hung up, I stared at the phone for a long minute, hating that Cary was so unhappy when everything in his life was going so well. He was an expert at self-sabotage, never truly believing he was worthy of happiness.

As I returned my attention to work, the Google search on my monitor reminded me of my interest in Dr. Terry Lucas. A few articles about her had been posted on the Web, complete with pictures that cemented the verification.

Pediatrician. Forty-five years of age. Married for twenty years. Nervously, I searched for “Dr. Terrence Lucas and wife,” inwardly cringing at the thought of seeing a golden-skinned, long-haired blonde. I exhaled my relief when I saw that Mrs. Lucas was a pale-skinned woman with short, bright red hair.

But that left me with more questions. I’d figured it would be a woman who’d caused the trouble between the two men.

The fact was, Lauren and I really didn’t know that much about each other. We knew the ugly stuff—at least she knew mine; I’d mostly guessed her from some pretty obvious clues. We knew some of the basic cohabitation stuff about each other after spending so many nights sleeping over at our respective apartments. she’d met half of my family and I’d met all of her. But we hadn’t been together long enough to touch on a whole lot of the periphery stuff. And frankly, I think we weren’t as forthcoming or inquisitive as we could’ve been, as if we were afraid to pile any more crap onto an already struggling relationship.

We were together because we were addicted to each other. I was never as intoxicated as I was when we were happy together, and I knew it was the same for her. We were putting ourselves through the wringer for those moments of perfection between us, but they were so tenuous that only our stubbornness, determination, and love kept us fighting for them.

Enough with making yourself crazy.

I checked my e-mail, and found my daily Google alert on “Lauren Jauregui.” The day’s digest of links led mostly to photos of Lauren, in black tie sans tie, and me at the charity dinner at the Waldorf Astoria the night before.

“God.” I couldn’t help but be reminded of my mother when looking at the pictures of me in a champagne Vera Wang cocktail dress. Not just because of how closely my looks mirrored my mom’s—aside from my hair being brown, long and straight—but also because of the mega-mogul whose arm I graced.

sinu Cabello Barker Mitchell Stanton was very, very good at being a trophy wife. She knew precisely what was expected of her and delivered without fail. Although she’d been divorced twice, both times had been by her choice and both divorces had left her exes despondent over losing her. I didn’t think less of my mother, because she gave as good as she got and didn’t take anyone for granted, but I’d grown up striving for independence. My right to say no was my most valued possession.

Minimizing my e-mail window, I pushed my personal life aside and went back to searching for market comparisons on fruity coffee. I coordinated some initial meetings between the strategists and Mark and helped Mark with brainstorming a campaign for a gluten-free restaurant. Noon approached and I was starting to feel seriously hungry when my phone rang. I answered with my usual greeting.

“camila?” an accented female voice greeted me. “It’s Magdalene. Do you have a minute?”

I leaned back in my chair, alert. Magdalene and I had once shared a moment of sympathy over Corinne’s unexpected and unwanted reappearance in Lauren’s life, but I’d never forget how vicious Magdalene had been to me the first time we’d met. “Just. What’s up?”

She sighed, then spoke quickly, her words flowing in a rush. “I was sitting at the table behind Corinne last night. I could hear a bit of what was being said between her and Lauren during dinner.”

My stomach tensed, preparing for an emotional blow. Magdalene knew just how to exploit my insecurities about Lauren. “Stirring up crap while I’m at work is a new low,” I said coldly. “I don’t—”

“she wasn’t ignoring you.”

My mouth hung open a second, and she quickly filled the silence.

“she was managing her, camila. She was making suggestions for where to take you around New York since you’re new in town, but she was doing it by playing the old remember-when-you-and-I-went-there game.”

“A walk down memory lane,” I muttered, grateful now that I hadn’t been able to hear much of Lauren’s low-voiced conversation with her ex.

“Yes.” Magdalene took a deep breath. “You left because you thought she was ignoring you for her. I just want you to know that she seemed to be thinking about you, trying to keep Corinne from upsetting you.”

“Why do you care?”

“Who says I do? I owe you one, Camila, for the way I introduced myself.”

I thought about that. Yeah, she owed me for when she ambushed me in the bathroom with her catty jealous bullshit. Not that I bought it as her sole motivation. Maybe I was just the lesser of two evils. Maybe she was keeping her enemies close. “All right. Thank you.”

No denying I felt better. A weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying around was suddenly relieved.

“Something else,” Magdalene went on. “she went after you.”

My grip tightened on the phone receiver. Lauren always came after me . . . because I was always running. My recovery was so fragile that I’d learned to protect it at all costs. When something threatened my stability, I ditched it.

“There have been other women in her life who’ve tried ultimatums like that, camila. They got bored or they wanted her attention or some kind of grand gesture . . . So they walked away and expected her to come after them. You know what she did?”

“Nothing,” I said softly, knowing my man. A man who never spent social time with women she slept with and never slept with women she associated with socially. Corinne and I were the sole exceptions to that rule, which was yet another reason why her ex sent me into fits of jealousy.

“Nothing more than making sure Angus dropped them off safely,” she confirmed, making me think it’d been a tactic she’d tried at some point. “But when you left, she couldn’t chase after you fast enough. And she wasn’t herself when she said good-bye. she seemed . . . off.”

Because she’d felt fear. My eyes closed as I mentally kicked myself. Hard.

Lauren had told me more than once that it terrified her when I ran, because she couldn’t handle the thought that I might not come back. What good did it do to say that I couldn’t imagine living without her when I so often showed her otherwise with my actions? Was it any wonder she hadn’t opened up to me about her past?

I had to stop running. Lauren and I were both going to have to stand and fight for this, for us, if we were going to have any hope of making our relationship work.

“Do I owe you now?” I asked neutrally, returning Mark’s wave as he left for lunch.

Magdalene exhaled in a rush. “Lauren and I have known each other a long time. Our mothers are best friends. You and I will see each other around, Camila, and I’m hoping we can find a way to avoid any awkwardness.”

The woman had come up to me and told me that the minute Lauren “shoved her dick” in me, I was “done.” And she’d hit me with that at a moment when I was especially vulnerable.

“Listen, Magdalene, if you don’t cause drama, we’ll get by.” And since she was being so forthright . . . “I can screw up my relationship with Lauren all by myself, trust me. I don’t need any help.”

She laughed softly. “That was my mistake, I think—I was too careful and too accommodating. she has to work at it with you. Anyway . . . I’ve taken up my minute. I’ll let you go.”

“Enjoy your weekend,” I said, in lieu of thanks. I still couldn’t trust her motivation.

“You, too.”

As I returned the receiver to its cradle, my gaze went to the photos of me and Lauren. I was abruptly overwhelmed by feelings of greed and possession. she was mine, yet I couldn’t be sure from one day to the next whether she’d stay mine. And the thought of any other woman having her made me insane.

I pulled open my bottom drawer and dug my smartphone out of my purse. Driven by the need to have her thinking as fiercely about me, I texted her about my sudden desperate hunger to devour her whole: I’d give anything to be sucking your cock right now.

Just thinking about how she looked when I took her in my mouth . . . the feral sounds she made when she was about to come . . .

Standing, I deleted the text the moment I saw it’d been delivered, then dropped my phone back in my purse. Since it was noon, I closed all the windows on my computer and headed out to reception to find Megumi.

“You hungry for anything in particular?” she asked, pushing to her feet and giving me a chance to admire her belted, sleeveless lavender dress.

I coughed because her question came so soon after my text. “No. Your choice. I’m not picky.”

We pushed out through the glass doors to reach the elevators.

“I am so ready for the weekend,” Megumi said with a groan as she stabbed the call button with an acrylic-tipped finger. “A day and a half left to go.”

“Got something fun planned?”

“That remains to be seen.” She sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Blind date,” she explained ruefully.

“Ah. Do you trust the person setting you up?”

“My roommate. I expect the guy will at least be physically attractive, because I know where she sleeps at night and paybacks are a bitch.”

I was smiling as an elevator car reached our floor and we stepped inside. “Well, that ups your odds for a good time.”

“Not really, since she found him by going on a blind date with him first. She swears he’s great, just more my type than hers.”

“Hmm.”

“I know, right?” Megumi shook her head and looked up at the decorative, old-fashioned needle above the car doors that marked the passing floors.

“You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”

“Oh, yeah. Wish me luck.”

“Absolutely.” We’d just stepped out into the lobby when I felt my purse vibrate beneath my arm. As we passed through the turnstiles, I dug for my phone and felt my stomach tighten at the sight of Lauren’s name. she was calling, not sexting me back.

“Excuse me,” I said to Megumi before answering.

She waved it off nonchalantly. “Go for it.”

“Hey,” I greeted her playfully.

“camila.”

I missed a step hearing the way she growled my name. There was a wealth of promise in the roughness of her voice.

Slowing, I found I was speechless, just from hearing her say my name with that edginess I craved—the sharp bite that told me she wanted to be inside me more than she wanted anything else in the world.

While people flowed around me, entering and exiting the building, I was halted by the weighted silence on my phone. The unspoken and nearly irresistible demand. she made no sound at all—I couldn’t even hear her breathing—but I felt her hunger. If I didn’t have Megumi waiting patiently for me, I’d be riding an elevator to the top floor to satisfy her unvoiced command to make good on my offer.

The memory of the time I’d sucked her off in her office simmered through me, making my mouth water. I swallowed. “Lauren . . .”

“You wanted my attention—now you have it. I want to hear you say those words.”

I felt my face flush. “I can’t. Not here. Let me call you later.”

“Step over by the column and out of the way.”

Startled, I looked around for her. Then I remembered that the Caller ID put her in her office. My gaze lifted, searching for the security cameras. Immediately, I felt her eyes on me, hot and wanting. Arousal surged through me, spurred by her desire.

“Hurry along, angel. Your friend’s waiting.”

I moved to the column, my breathing fast and audible.

“Now tell me. Your text made me hard, camila. What are you going to do about it?”

My hand went to my throat, my gaze sliding helplessly to Megumi, who watched me with raised brows. I lifted one finger up, asking for another minute, then turned my back to her and whispered, “I want you in my mouth.”

“Why? To play with me? To tease me like you’re doing now?” There was no heat in her voice, just calm severity.

I knew to pay careful attention when Lauren got serious about sex.

“No.” I lifted my face to the tinted dome in the ceiling that concealed the nearest security camera. “To make you come. I love making you come, Lauren.”

she exhaled harshly. “A gift, then.”

Only I knew what it meant for Lauren to view a sexual act as a gift. For her, sex had previously been about pain and degradation or lust and necessity. Now, with me, it was about pleasure and love. “Always.”

“Good. Because I treasure you, Camila, and what we have. Even our driving urge to fuck each other constantly is precious to me, because it matters.”

I sagged into the column, admitting to myself that I’d fallen into an old destructive habit—I’d exploited sexual attraction to ease my insecurities. If Lauren was lusting after me, she couldn’t be lusting after anyone else. How did she always know what was going on in my mind?

“Yes,” I breathed, closing my eyes. “It matters.”

There’d been a time when I’d turned to sex to feel affection, confusing momentary desire with genuine caring. Which was why I now insisted on having some sort of friendly framework in place before I went to bed with a man. I never again wanted to roll out of a lover’s bed feeling worthless and dirty.

And I sure as hell didn’t want to cheapen what I shared with Lauren just because I was irrationally scared of losing her.

It hit me then that I was off balance. I had this sick feeling in my gut, like something awful was going to happen.

“You can have what you want after work, angel.” her voice deepened, grew raspier. “In the meantime, enjoy lunch with your co-worker. I’ll be thinking about you. And your mouth.”

“I love you, Lauren.”

It took a couple of deep breaths after I hung up to compose myself enough to join Megumi again. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yes. Everything’s fine.”

“Things still hot and heavy with you and Lauren Jauregui?” She glanced at me with a slight smile.

“Umm . . .” Oh yes. “Yes, that’s fine, too.” And I wished desperately that I could talk about it. I wished I could just open the valve and gush about my overwhelming feelings for her. How thoughts of her consumed me, how the feel of her beneath my hands drove me wild, how the passion of her tortured soul cut into me like the sharpest blade.

But I couldn’t. Not ever. She was too visible, too well known. Private tidbits about her life were worth a small fortune. I couldn’t risk it.

“she sure is,” Megumi agreed. “Damn fine. Did you know her before you started working here?”

“No. Although I suppose we would have met eventually.” Because of our pasts. My mother gave generously to many abused children’s charities, as did Lauren. It was inevitable that Lauren and I would’ve crossed paths at some point. I wondered what that meeting would have been like—her with a gorgeous blonde on her arm and me with Cary. Would we have had the same visceral reaction to each other from a distance as we’d had up close in the Crossfire lobby?

she’d wanted me the moment she saw me on the street.

“I wondered.” Megumi pushed through the revolving lobby door. “I read that it was serious between you two,” she went on when I joined her outside on the sidewalk. “So I thought maybe you’d known her before.”

“Don’t believe everything you read on those gossip blogs.”

“So it’s not serious?”

“I didn’t say that.” It was too serious at times. Painfully, brutally so.

She shook her head. “God . . . listen to me pry. Sorry. Gossip is one of my vices. So are extremely hot women like Lauren Jauregui. I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to hook up with a gir whose body screams sex like that. Tell me she’s awesome in bed.”

I smiled. It was good to hang out with another girl. Not that Cary couldn’t also be appreciative of a hot guy, but nothing beat girl talk. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

“Lucky bitch.” Bumping shoulders with me to show she was teasing, she said, “How about that roommate of yours? From the photos I saw, she’s gorgeous, too. Is she single? Wanna hook me up?”

Turning my head quickly, I hid a wince. I’d learned the hard way never to set up an acquaintance or friend with Cary. He was so easy to love, which led to a lot of broken hearts because he couldn’t love back the same way. The moment things started going too well, Cary sabotaged them. “I don’t know if he’s single or not. Things are . . . complicated in his life at the moment.”

“Well, if the opportunity presents itself, I’m certainly not opposed. Just sayin’. You like tacos?”

“Love ’em.”

“I know a great place a couple blocks up. Come on.”

* * *

Things were going well in my world as Megumi and I headed back from lunch. Forty minutes of gossip, guy-ogling, and three awesome carne asada tacos later, I was feeling pretty good. And we were returning to work a little over ten minutes early, which I was glad for since I hadn’t been the most punctual employee lately, even though Mark never complained.

The city was thrumming around us, taxis and people surging through the growing heat and humidity as they crammed what they could into the insufficient hours of the day. I people-watched shamelessly, my eyes skimming over everyone and everything.

Men in business suits walked alongside women in flowing skirts and flip-flops. Ladies in haute couture and five-hundred-dollar shoes teetered past steaming hot dog vendor carts and shouting hawkers. The eclectic mix of New York was heaven to me, stirring an excitement that made me feel more vibrant here than anyplace else I’d ever lived.

We were stopped by a traffic light directly across from the Crossfire, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the black Bentley sitting in front of it. Lauren must’ve just gotten back from lunch. I couldn’t help but think about her sitting in her car on the day we’d met, watching me as I took in the imposing beauty of her Crossfire Building. It made me tingly just thinking about it—

Suddenly, I went cold.

Because a striking blonde breezed out of the revolving doors just then and paused, giving me a good, long look at her—Lauren’s ideal, whether she’d been aware of it or not. A woman I’d witnessed her fixate on the moment she’d seen her in the Waldorf Astoria ballroom. A woman whose poise and hold over Lauren brought out all my worst insecurities.

Corinne Giroux looked like a breath of fresh air in a cream-colored sheath dress and cherry red heels. She ran a hand over her waist-length hair, which wasn’t quite as sleek as it’d appeared last night when I’d met her. In fact, it looked a little disheveled. And her fingers were rubbing at her mouth, wiping along the outline of her lips.

I pulled my smartphone out, activated the camera, and snapped a picture. With the proximity of the zoom, I could see why she was fussing with her lipstick—it was smeared. No, more like mashed. As if from a passionate kiss.

The light changed. Megumi and I moved with the flow, closing the distance between me and the woman who’d once had Lauren’s promise to marry her. Angus stepped out of the Bentley and came around, speaking to her briefly before opening the back door for her. The feeling of betrayal—Angus’s and Lauren’s—was so fierce, I couldn’t catch my breath. I swayed on my feet.

“Hey.” Megumi caught my arm to steady me. “And we only had virgin margaritas, lightweight!”

I watched Corinne’s willowy body slide into the back of Lauren’s car with practiced grace. My fists clenched as fury surged through me. Through the haze of my angry tears, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and disappeared.

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healresolve · 4 years ago

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Lana’s portrayal is a synthesis of the traits she is given in both manga adaptations of FE4′s 2nd generation when compared against older translations of Genealogy. I borrow aspects that appeal to me from all three, but I lean heavily towards Genealogy and Fuyuki for inspiration with Oosawa being the one I draw the least from. The most fundamental traits I envision Lana possessing are Compassion and Insecurity.

The first is demonstrated through her insistence on fighting because she feels just as strongly as the more outspoken Larcei, challenging even Seliph on this. She also reaches out to Julia as the new girl in their already established group. A seasoned healer following in her mother’s footsteps for gameplay reasons, Lana has spent a great deal of time in the infirmary ward helping Adean who instilled in her the deep sense of caring for other people. The second, insecurity, I find is woven throughout her narrative and traceable to multiple sources. Adean, her mother, is widely desired by the men of Jugdral for her beauty and Lana inherits very little by way of appearance.

(Spoiler warning for Belhalla here. At this point most people are aware, but I want to tag it out of courtesy to anyone who does not wish to be spoiled for the Jugdral games.)

Another large factor stems from the fact that Lana feels immense guilt that even one of her parents survived when the same cannot be said for most of the other children raised in Tirnanog who lost them when Arvis executed Sigurd and his troops at Belhalla. Growing up Lana always struggled with having to share to her mother while keenly aware how selfish it was to feel that way. These profound self-doubts endow her with sensitivity towards the feelings of others, but also negatively manifests as jealousy in her relationships, most notably dictating how she interacts with Seliph. While it may get the better of her at times, it never stops Lana from considering the feelings of others which sometimes is at the cost of her own.

Resolve

Lana: “Nuns can fight too, you know. I feel just as strongly about this as Larcei does. The imperial troops are becoming crueler with each passing day. It’s dangerous just to be a girl anymore! But I don’t plan to go down without a fight. I have my own means of warfare!”

Seliph: “I’m sorry, Lana. You’re right. This is everyone’s battle. Alright. We should get going. It’s hard to say how this is going to turn out… But let’s give it everything we’ve got!”

Lana: “Sorry if I got a little outta hand, sir.

Lana is introduced as a stark contrast to her childhood friend Larcei. Larcei pulls no punches from the start and Lana comes across as a timid healer by comparison, but their dialogue makes it clear in no uncertain terms that they are both incensed by House Dozel’s mistreatment of the people of Isaach. She goes as far as opposing Seliph who she deeply respects because once he relents she immediately apologizes.

Fuyuki’s Lana does not hesitate to put herself between an attack meant for Julia.

Compassion

While her brother, Lester, and Diarmuid presumably took up riding from Oifey and the twins, Ulster and Larcei, and Seliph trained with Prince Shannan, Lana did not discover her place among them until feeling her heart ache for the first time after seeing them covered in bruises and scrapes from training. She had originally picked up healing as a way of easing the many burdens on her mother’s shoulder, but the most fulfillment in the fact she could treat the wounds of her dear friends in order to protect them in the future.

For the brief period of time where Lana serves as the group’s only healer, she experienced immense stress from feeling that she had become solely responsible for their lives. When Lewyn introduces Julia, Lana happily welcomes the second healer into the fold and goes out of her way to make sure she’s looked after. This was both for Julia’s own sake and that of Seliph, as she wanted to relieve him of having to worry about something else when the weight of the world had already been heavy on his shoulders.

Wit

Lana to Febail: Hah… I know better than that. I saw all those crying children clinging to you when we were leaving the Manster District. You’re like a father to them, you know.

Almost comically emphasized in the Oosawa manga, Lana and Larcei bounce off each other in many scenes with Lana teasing Larcei over subjects ranging from boys to personal blunders. This side of Lana is present in the game where Lana pokes fun at Febail for posturing as a tough guy too.

Lana’s occasional snark should be considered something reserved for people and places she is comfortable enough with the other person that it would not come across as rude.

Insecurity

Low self-esteem plays a large part in Lana’s speech patterns. This trait is present in all three characterizations of her. Sometimes she wallows over her poor self-image and other times it takes on the form of passive-aggressiveness. Should Seliph marry another girl by the end of the game and Lana remain unpaired, she expresses explicit jealousy and perhaps even resentment towards him for it.

Seliph : Lana...I’m sorry.

Lana : ...

Seliph : Lester said you were angry...

Lana : That’s because you...but it’s all right. I’ll just be going back to Jungby. So, farewell, Sir Seliph.

Lana: Seliph, we’ve just a little more go…

Seliph: Yeah. You’ve meant a lot to me out here, Lana. I really mean that.

Lana: Well, I don’t know if I’ve actually done anything… But I’m content just being by your side.

Seliph: Lana, we go pretty far back, don’t we… I remember us always hanging out as kids.

Lana: Uh-huh. I have so many good memories from back then, but I never thought you and I…

Seliph: But I’ve always liked you, Lana…

Seliph: I know… but it’s just hard for me to accept that, Seliph. I feel so awful to Julia…

Due to low self-esteem, Lana has a tendency to adopt blame even when there is no fault of her own. Her insecurities surrounding her mother and her upbringing make her feel unworthy of standing beside Seliph. That uneasiness does not go away if Seliph confesses to her either because she just finds something else to fixate on. In this instance, she worries that Julia may have also developed feelings for Seliph and cannot bring herself to enjoy the moment.

Closing thoughts

Most Jugdral characters have a handful of lines at best to extrapolate from. Outside sources such as Kaga’s dream scenario and the various FE4 mangas make an effort to flesh out the cast, but this results in characterizations that can be conflicting. Fuyuki’s manga presents Lana as a love interest for Seliph and this heavily influences her interactions with him. Oosawa, on the other hand, depicts a budding romance between Lana and Ulster.

I personally feel that Oosawa’s Lana is too immature to be congruent with her in-game counterpart, but I do like how her sense of humor and quiet wit shine that Fuyuki doesn’t manage to capture. Fuyuki’s Lana does, however, expand on the close relationship Lana has with Seliph. Regardless of whether anything comes of it, Lana’s bitterness towards Seliph if he takes another wife seems to imply closeness in some capacity at one point that just may not have developed in the same direction for him. I feel that Fuyuki stays faithful to the more introverted Lana seen in-game and I prefer this approach.

Nonetheless, I believe there’s value in all three existing for analysis’ sake. It enriches a character that would otherwise have even less to work with and I’m grateful for that. I love that Lana’s faults feel very much in-line with her age group. She has a wealth of interesting dynamics to draw from with every single character that was present in Tirnanog before the liberation efforts took off and honestly writing her gives me the excuse to flex how much I love Adean, haha.

#tbt #// long post #// long text #// the lana analysis no one asked for

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broken-clover · 4 years ago

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AU-gust Day 12- Modern

Here comes a joker! I really did like the idea of a crime au, but I just couldn’t come up with anything. So here’s something I’ve been wanting to make for a while, kinda inspired by an ask I got from Rex way back when. I just liked the idea of Axl being Bedman’s adopted dad, I thought it was neat!

Also apologies in advance for me using my name headcanons again, it’s just so difficult to work with a character whose name is ‘Bedman.’ Seriously, does he have a less bizarre name in canon? Who the fuck would name their kids ‘Delilah’ and ‘Bedman?’ Guess we know who the favorite was...

“I don’t like you.”

Axl wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he first signed up for the local foster program. Well, he sorta did. Ideally, he’d expected to be tasked with taking care of a child, with whatever bizarreness it would entail. He knew he wasn’t exactly what a lot of people would consider ‘prime material’ for a foster parent- he was an unmarried twentysomething with no clear direction on where he wanted to go with his life, but he was financially stable, passed all the agency’s legal checks and drug screenings, and attended every mandatory pre-service class alongside a small crew of other aspiring parents. Despite his best efforts, he always got the impression that the agency took issue with him being there. Still, Axl did everything he was told, waited patiently, and chatted with his assigned caseworker until they had found a match for him to try out.

Matthew had come with a ratty purple backpack, a seemingly-permanent scowl, and a laundry list of behavior problems tacked onto his case file. Axl wasn’t his first foster parent, he’d already gone through nearly a dozen, all of which had sent him back. The reasons varied, from destroyed appliances to constant verbal fighting. And he made it clear right from the get-go that he despised his new foster home just as much from the first words he uttered.

“I don’t like you. Send me back.”

It seemed nobody really knew where the origin of his ire was. Being pushed back and forth through the foster system again and again for years seemed like a perfectly good reason to be cross, at least in Axl’s opinion, but the way the orphanage and his agent had spoken about it made it sound like Matthew was born with a scowl on his face and just didn’t know how to take it off. They seemed surprised by the concept that he was even being placed in another foster home. The repeated failures and inability to get along with anyone seemed to indicate that he was doomed to take the slow path, waiting a few more years until he turned 18 and aged out of the system on his own.

In spite of their initial rough meeting, Axl did his best to welcome him warmly. He’d set up and painted a room ahead of time for his new family member to live in, acquired all the legal documents he needed for everything from school enrollment to medical files, and stored up a plethora of dad jokes that he could use as he needed. Matthew was unimpressed with all of them.

“I hate this place. When are you sending me back?”

For all the snarky comments and indifference he could manage, Axl didn’t budge. He was patient. He would keep trying.

Though he only knew so much about him from his case file (Matthew despised small talk, and Axl didn’t drag him into it), he’d done his best to support the interests he saw. He bought the science books he noticed the boy staring at in the shop windows, and trying to pick out new cartridges for the game system he barely let out of his sight. He seemed like the intellectual type, reading college-level books on social sciences and linguistics, and he preferred strategy games over any other kind. Axl wasn’t much of a bookworm himself, maybe that’s what made it so difficult for them to connect. But even if he couldn’t match him on an intellectual level, maybe he could still do so on a more personal one.

So he stayed patient.

“Why are you being so stubborn…?”

Axl could tell he was at least getting somewhere. They didn’t exactly have casual time together, not really, but he wasn’t immediately shooed away. Matthew could play his games, or read a book, and Axl could sit on the other side of the room. Every time, he inched closer and closer, until the only option left was for them to sit on the same couch.

“Heya, Mattie, mind if I sit down for a sec?"

It had been a quiet evening, not especially remarkable in any way. Just another day of work and school for the both of them, and free time afterward to unwind.

His son glanced up at him, but only for the briefest of moments. “You have more than one chair.”

“Yeah, but I just wanted to sit with you today. Is that okay?”

“...Fine. But don’t touch me.”

Axl sat himself down on the other side of the sofa. “So...how was school?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

The sheer speed of his response threw him off-guard. “Well, okay. Um, did I already tell you that I like the neat thing you’ve got going on with your hair?” He pointed towards the boy’s messily-dyed purple locks.

“Eight times. Nine now.”

“You do it yourself?”

“In my last house’s bathtub.”

“Must’ve been a right mess! But it looks like it turned out good?”

“It was. My foster mom was mad about the mess I made. So she wound up screaming at me over it. And I screamed back. And before I knew it, she sent me back. It’s on my case file, I thought you said you read it.”

Axl felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. Well, open mouth, insert foot. He had read it, multiple times, but all it had listed was ‘confrontational issues and repeated arguments.’ He’d wondered exactly what that had meant, but actually figuring it out made him feel the exact opposite of satisfied.

“...Oh. Sounds like a right bitch.”

“She was. Can you stop asking questions now? I’m bored of them.”

He complied, though the ensuing silence only made everything feel more uncomfortable. He just didn’t get why some people screamed at their kids, mistakes just happened sometimes. Children were still learning how things worked, it seemed natural sometimes it would end in a mess.

“Hey.”

“I don’t wanna talk.”

“And I’m not gonna make you.” Axl stayed where he was. “Is it okay if I talk, though? You don’t have to say anything back.”

No response. But he didn’t get up and leave, like he had done in the past, so Axl took it as a cue to keep going. “I know you’re probably not gonna like me right away. And that’s ok. I’m still a total stranger, and you’re just expected to trust me to look after you. And I’ve seen all your paperwork, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about you as a person. We’re still strangers, the two of us.”

He paused. Matthew looked unfazed. “So I get it. I really do. I’m…” Axl tried to think of what he wanted to say. “I...

I’m not sending you back.”

Still no response. But Axl noticed the way his hands locked, and the little startled double-blink that came with it.

“If we’ve got issues, we can work ‘em out. I know you’ve been through a lot, so it’s ok if you have a rough time at first. And I’m not gonna throw you out as soon as you have a hard time. I totally get it. You’re not a bloody dog, I’m not gonna pretend like I can tame you with treats until you do whatever I tell you. There’s just some stuff we aren’t ever going to see eye-to-eye on. But no matter what, you’re my kid now, and you’re not going anywhere unless that’s what you really want.”

Slowly, uncertainly, he watched Matthew close his game and let it rest in his lap. He didn’t look up. “I want to be a good parent. I know I’m new at this, too, so I might fuck up a couple of times. I just want you to know that I’m ready to be your dad, and that means loving you no matter what.”

After another quiet, uncomfortable moment, a small voice piped up. “I’m not good at jokes, but yours aren’t funny.”

“It’s not a joke.” Axl replied. “I mean it.”

“It’s not funny!” It sounded more forceful the second time. His voice grew brittle. “You should send me back. Why won’t you send me back?”

“Why would I do that? You’re all set up in your room, and moving is a pain.” Axl tried to throw in a little friendly chuckle, but it didn't hide the unease in his voice. "Why would you think I would want to get rid of you?"

“I- I’m not-” His tone finally snapped, and his shoulders began to tremble. “I’m no good.”

He found himself hesitating for a moment, but Axl scooted closer, wrapping arms around his shoulders and giving his son a tight squeeze. “Nobody’s perfect. And I wouldn’t want you to be, anyway. I just want you to be you. Whatever that means.”

The two of them simply sat there for a while. This certainly hadn’t been in any of the advice books he’d read, but this was something Axl didn’t mind doing on his own. He just hoped he had expressed what he needed to.

He didn’t even think of letting go until he felt squirming against him. Matthew immediately picked up his game again and flipped it open. No acknowledgement at all. But...no, that was fine. He said he would accept him no matter what he was. If he didn’t like to talk about his feelings, then he didn’t need to force it.

“...help me with this turn.”

“Huh?” Curious, Axl shuffled closer to get a better look at his screen. “Wait, is this the one I got you?”

The boy nodded. “The mechanics are simplistic and the strategy elements are child’s play, but...I’ve had a lot of fun with it.” He tapped at something on his screen. “Alright. So right now my troops are stationed outside the dragon king’s fortress. How should they be organized when we open our assault?”

Well, he wasn’t much of a strategist, but he had no trouble giving it a go, anyway. “Uhh, definitely want to have some long-range stuff, right? So you can hit from a distance. Got anything for that?”

Another nod. “There’s a whole subclass for that, let me show you. There’s archers, a trebuchet, long-distance casters, and demolitionists. Each of them have a different set of stats and energy cost.”

“Why don’t you explain them to me a little more?”

“Sure. Archers have the best cost-to-efficiency ratio, but their projectiles are still on the weaker side. But if you take the trebuchet…”

It was a starting step, he realized, only a small one. But it was still something.

#AU-gust #writing #guilty gear #Axl Low #Bedman

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renaroo · 5 years ago

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Super Brothers (1/12)

Disclaimer: Superman and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: Child Abuse, Gender Dysphoria, PTSD and Anxiety, Character Death Rating: T Synopsis: Jon Kent knew he pretty much had the perfect family life, but something still felt wrong with himself. At the height of feeling like an alien in his own skin, however, his world got turned upside down when his parents took in a troubled child who embodied everything he felt he lacked. However, becoming a brother ended up being the smallest of the trials brought by adopting Christopher Kent. And being best friends with Damian Wayne has not exactly helped keep a neutral perspective on the matter.

A/N: I have made no secret over the last few years just how disappointed i’ve been by the treatment and reintroduction of Chris Kent, aka Lor-Zod, in DC Comics. This little guy is one of my favorite comic book characters in existence, and it feels so dirty to see what has become of him. For a while, I’ve wanted to do a story that really tried to rectify the Rebirth version of Chris and the continuity at large with the core of the character I love, so this story is my attempt at that. I can only hope that I bridge that gap gracefully.

On the other end, I didn’t want to erase Damian or Jon and all the positives I have seen with their relationship and additions to the DCU at large. For their parts in this story, I want to focus on being in the middle school age range, all the confusion that entails, and open a dialogue about issues of gender and acceptance.

Obviously, these are a lot of heavy topics, and I am certain that despite my intentions, there can and will be things I mess up. My hope is, when that happens, you all can keep an open dialogue with me on the subjects. I want to learn and better myself and my portrayal of the issues.

That being said, please pay attention to the warnings throughout this fic. I will touch on dark subjects, and I don’t want anyone to read and feel unprepared for the subjects broached, which is part of the reason I chose to make an opening scene that is rather dark and disturbing on some levels. It won’t be ALL dark and uncomfortable, but I want to make this plea now rather than later.

I hope the story is still worth your read <3 Thank you for your time!

Chapter One: The Cost of Friends

Jon hates this.

At the absolute worst of times, his tiny body reminds him of just how unreliable it is. He can’t count on it, it’s not consistent — it’s not a Superman body no matter how hard he tries to fit it in as one. His limbs are gangly, his bones poke through pale kin, and his messy black hair curls untamed out from around his ears. It’s not good it doesn’t do what he needs it to do.

And at that moment, Jon’s terrified that it’s about to get himself and his best friend killed.

Ordinarily, being half-Kryptonian, Jon would easily burst through chains and bindings without a second thought. And he’s still strong, he tore through the ripe around his waist like it was taffy, but the chains keeping his legs and neck locked to the floor aren’t budging. And Jon’s getting progressively tired.

There’s something strange about this macabre carnival where he and Damian take the center ring. Of course, there is, because it’s Professor Pyg and he’s the stuff of nightmares. But beyond even that, the spotlights on them show with a heavy red glow that is making Jon sluggish and weak.

So weak that he’s less than a circus ring away from Damian and he still can’t get to him.

“Come now, come now, wait your turn,” the grotesque villain squeals in delight toward Jon. “Little Bat has been scheduled for this appointment for such a long time! You must be patient, my little bird. So patient. Everyone has their time with the professor.”

“Superboy!” Damian snarls from where he is tied up, flat and without his utility belt. He’s laying on a gurney that looks far from sanitary and, if Jon didn’t know better, it might even look like Damian is actually concerned. “Focus! Red sunlight radiation shouldn’t dull your brains as much as it does your strength!”

Blinking, Jon looks up to the spotlights again and can see, with what vague telescopic ability he still has, that there is something unusual about the spectrum of light coming from them. “Is that what this is?” he asks, voice small but filled with relief all the same.

“Oh, my, I cannot, must not, pass an opportunity to educate my subjects, inform them of their peril,” Professor Pyg pantomimes his way from the circus ring with Damian toward the center stage with Jon.

Immediately, Jon feels his body stiffen on instinct. He looks warily at the flabby, disgusting pig mask as the rest of the pudgy and unkempt professor makes his way toward Jon. He knows he should be focusing on getting free, but it’s a difficult thing to do when he’s being approached by unmitigated evil and brutality.

He isn’t sure how Damian gets his suit on every night if this is what Gotham patrols are really like.

“It is your body,” Pyg snorts and chortles.

A cold splash washes over Jon. “My body?” he repeats with wide eyes.

“Get away from him, Pyg!” Damian roars, his gurney shaking and rocking with struggle.

“It isn’t right, doesn’t fit on your bones,” Pyg bemoans, jerking out his hip and slithering his own arms around his chest and waist. He sways back and forth on his feet with a sashay of his hips. “It misses the shape of your spirit, the delicate frame of your face. And it’ll only get worse with age.”

Despite himself, Jon feels his struggle slow to a complete stop. His eyes widen as he looks at Pyg. There is a chill that travels from the base of his spine up, standing all his hair on end.

Deep inside of Jon’s chest, muscles tighten and his heart thunders. He feels a shiver move from his core. No oh no oh no oh no. HIs guts churn, his jaw trembles.

“Oh, you feel it, don’t you, that deep deep down,” Pyg continues, approaching. “You’re in the last years of it being passable, of being acceptable. Before your bones grind and the sinews snap into shapes thick and unbecoming of your gentle nature. I see what you are, in that deep deep down, because I am an artist who shapes and molds my subjects out from their souls.”

“You’re a monster,” Jon whispers, his voice giving up halfway through.

Pyg’s eyes shine with something dangerous through the outsides of his mask. He reaches forward and cups Jon’s cheek with his itchy gloved hand. Jon doesn’t even know when he got so close; when he started towering so tall over Jon.

“You’ll be one of my finest Dollotrons,” Pyg promises, rubbing his thumb just under Jon’s eye. “But your clay’s too strong, have to soften you up, get you nice and fleshy, then I’ll shave and I’ll cut and I’ll shape you right up.”

It doesn’t come off as a promise, so much as it does a threat, one that terrifies and unsettles Jon deep down within himself.

Jon’s mind draws a blank, his eyes wide and unfocused and he attempts, desperately, to come up with some intelligent response. But he can’t, not while a fear racks his every nerve and turns his muscles to stone.

It takes Jon completely and utterly by surprise when a familiar whoosh in the air flies overhead before glass crashes and electricity sparks. He catches a glance at the familiar shape of a Batarang lodged into the spotlight directly overhead.

He’s instantly overcome with relief.

Pyg releases his cheek and steps back wildly, looking around. “No! Not now! My art is not ready!” he cries out before letting loose some piglike squeals and sobs.

Looking toward Damian, Jon expects to see his friend released but is surprised to see Damian still trapped. He squints, uncertain of what’s happening when a second then third Batarang plunge into the remaining red sun spotlights.

“Batman?” Jon wonders out loud.

“Ugh,” Damian lets out in frustration before struggling with even more force against his bindings. “Overdramatic, sanctimonious, can’t believe—“

Dollotrons are racing onto the tent floor while Professor Pyg whines and bemoans his ultimate fate, but as the lights extinguish one by one, the shadows take on a new form.

She moves like a dancer, each step and hit against the army of zombified victims perfectly paced and timed. She is all in black, save for her golden accents and bat, and she spares not a single motion. A kick becomes a launch for a leap becomes a smack becomes a twirl becomes a fist to the face of the blubbering Professor. And each and every movement grows in its momentum.

Jon has never seen anything like this outside of super speed, and he certainly hasn’t seen it using the shapes and silhouettes of the shadows like a comforting show curtain. He has so many questions and so many concerns that he forgets himself and getting free. Even if he could, with his body still unresponsively slow and dulled from the radiation.

Damian, at the least, is in motion, finally getting one of his hands free and using the points of his gauntlet to slice through the leather of the other bindings. He is muttering to himself, annoyed and embarrassed based on the flush in his cheeks. It’s not a rare sight but it is unusual for Jon to see Damian this way around one of his multitudes of siblings.

The shadowy bat launches into a final attack, knocking out the last of the Dollotrons before pouncing on the escaping Professor Pyg like a hungry lioness.

With her full weight on Pyg, the Bat narrows her eyes and for the first time can really be seen by Jon as she reaches over and yanks Pyg’s disgusting mask off of his face. Her lips curl in displeasure, but it doesn’t take away from her fair features or the delicate, smooth control she has over her body.

“Wow,” Jon hears himself say as Damian reaches his side and begins pulling out a small blowtorch for the chains. “Is that your sister?”

“SHH!” Damian hisses.

Jon strains to listen to whatever is being said between the Bat and Pyg, but it gets him nowhere, only words at a time coming in clearly as his powers remain in flux. Regardless, Pyg is squirming and blubbering too much for it to matter anyway.

“Took her damn time,” Damian snarls, letting Jon lean on him as he glares toward his sister.

“She saved our lives,” Jon reminds him.

Damian’s nose curls. “Tt, debatable.”

Cassandra apparently finishes whatever minor conversation she was having with Pyg and flips him over, handcuffing him swiftly. She’s powerful and strong without losing her leanness or size, it mesmerizes Jon in a way. By the time she looks up at them, her expression has completely changed.

“You okay?” she asks them both.

“No thanks to you,” Damian says at the same time Jon gets out, “All thanks to you!”

Something approximating a smile crosses her face before she gets to her feet and reaches up to her ear. “Oracle. Done.”

Looking at Cassandra, Jon feels like he’s found yet another new hero. “Whoa, your sister’s awesome. And cool. And so in control,” Jon tells Damian, his strength returning. “You’ve got so many siblings, can I have your sister?”

“Father would be displeased, otherwise I’d say yes,” Damian huffs in that way that Jon cannot tell, for the life of him, if it’s sarcasm or not.

***

Damian watches as his friend flies off.

It took the better part of an hour as well as a stop at Big Belly Burger for Jon to feel up to the task, but the half-Kryptonian flies home after departing from them and Damian watches him go.

Cassandra, as it turns out, is also there. She leans back against her motorcycle — a sleek but redundant design, like any of the numerous other bat-themed motorcycles or vehicles any of their extended family has access to — and watches Damian more than Jon.

They haven’t had much time with just the two of them. Their paths rarely intersect. And Damian is pretty sure he prefers it that way.

His cheeks are still on fire from the embarrassment of being rescued by her.

“I would have gotten out,” he informs her, crossing his arms. “Pyg was distracted and far away from me. I was working on my restraints.”

She tilts her head at him, a frown tight on her face. “Distracted you, too,” she points out.

And Damian knows she’s right about that, he was distracted. Just the look on his friend’s face, the growing horror and dread. Jon isn’t used to the types of villains that Gotham can throw at people, the psychological toll it takes. Damian is, or at least he likes to think he is, but Jon still can be scared and surprised.

But what looks crossed Jon’s face at that moment were unexpected even to Damian. He had never seen anything like it. Jon had been soaking up every word and phrase like it had been ripped straight from his dreams.

It was enough that it frightened Damian for his friend, and he didn’t even know why.

Over the course of an hour and a Big Belly Burger, Jon had refrained from mentioning a single thing about it.

That, too, was very unlike Jon.

Such things could be dwelled on at another time, though. Damian had the pressing matter at hand of his own reckoning. And his so-called sister.

Without looking up to meet Cassandra’s gaze, Damian kicked at the ground. “What are you going to tell father about tonight?” he asks.

“Truth,” Cass answers unhelpfully.

Gritting his teeth, Damian looks back at her, eyes narrowed and angry. “That’s not fair, you know,” he growls at her. “You never come around, never work with any of the rest of us, and then you pop in and judge us from on high. No wonder father speaks highly of you. You’re just like him.”

Her brows come together in a way that wrinkles her forehead. It’s hard to read her expression, even with her modified mask and hood. “I’m not,” she says. Her words sound final, but she apparently thinks better of them and shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Judging you. I’m not.”

Damian looks her over. She hasn’t moved from her bike but her arms have dropped to her side. She is looking at him rather intently and it makes him want to squirm in his combat boots.

“Tt, sure you’re not,” he finally snaps back. “You’ll still tell father that I was captured by Professor Pyg.”

“Yes,” she said too casually.

“And that I let Superboy get captured, too,” Damian glowered more at that one, his eyes rest on the asphalt beneath his feet. He kicked again.

Cassandra paused slightly longer with that one.

When her hand snaked its way onto his shoulder, Damian flinched bodily. He slapped her hand away and twisted around to get away on instinct. He hated that — no one should be able to sneak up on him. He was trained by League of Assassins, he had been prepared since before he could speak to be on guard.

But Cassandra had, too.

She looked at him passively. “Not your fault, happens,” she said, in reference to Pyg.

“That’s not what father will think,” Damian snaps.

“I’ll tell him,” she promises.

Damian stares at her for a moment, sizing her up and considering all the ways he could make her more respectful to him. But it fizzles out quickly. He knows, as much as he resists the thought, that he isn’t upset with her.

He’s upset with himself.

“In the League, they trained us that there is a cost to every relationship formed,” Damian informs Cassandra like she doesn’t intuitively know from her own history. “Partnerships, even necessary ones, would cost you heavily. They could be deadly. And more relationships than strictly necessary should be avoided. All this family and friendship that is just around me all the time now. I don’t want to pay the cost for them.” He looks to the skies where Jon once flew. “I don’t want my friend to pay for them either. It’s not worth it.”

Cassandra stays quiet, but she places her hand on Damian’s shoulder again. He doesn’t attempt to knock it off this time.

“Sometimes it is,” she tells him.

But Damian isn’t so sure. Especially not hearing it from her. Cassandra does not work with others to the same degree as the rest of their family. She doesn’t go to school. She doesn’t join teams outside of father’s pet projects. She doesn’t operate in a daily partnership like Damian has with Grayson or father.

She seems to be living by those lonesome standards that the League taught Damian. And all anyone can do is praise her.

What sort of lesson is Damian supposed to learn from that?

***

Jekuul feels oppressively hot outside of the crystal palace.

Lor has watched his parents stand, looming in the skies, over the land’s natives as they constructed the palace for them. He watched as their eyes glowed threateningly each time the native population faltered, and he remembered how easily their bones cracked and snapped when corrected by the general and his lieutenant. It was equal parts thrilling and terrifying to witness.

Inside the palace, things are smooth and temperature regulated. The pantries are stocked with foods far greater than anything Lor had tasted within the Phantom Zone, but still foreign and sometimes unexpected.

If he questions what was on his plate, he is quickly reprimanded.

So he doesn’t ask.

It should be easy, if not simple, to follow the rules at this point. Stay in the palace, eat when told without questions, listen to his lessons from the Sunstones without fault.

He is the Last Son of Krypton, and he is supposed to inherit everything the universe owed them for their lost greatest civilization. All he has to do is stay in place, not ask questions, don’t be, don’t move.

But he was not born on Krypton, nor was he born on Jekuul — New Krypton, by his father’s declaration — he was born in the perilous depths of the Phantom Zone. A prison.

Inside of the Phantom Zone, there was no movement, there were no questions, there was not being or doing or screaming or aging — that had been the only thing he’d ever existed and it was torturous.

Outside of the Phantom Zone, he thought, things are supposed to be different. He is supposed to move and change and grow, he thinks.

So even though there is every reason not to leave the palace, Lor-Zod leaves in the oppressive heat and feels the sun against his Kryptonian skin as he flies under the two yellow suns.

As he moves across the lands, the violet skinned natives of Jekuul fall to their knees and avert their eyes. They whisper and whimper in a tongue completely foreign to Lor-Zod and it feels, well. It feels good.

Lor-Zod knows that they react this way to his parents, but to have even adults of the alien race fall in reverence to him, he feels more powerful. He feels like the Last Son of Krypton that his father insists he is.

He wonders, vaguely, if it is something his father would like to see.

Deep down, Lor hopes so. Because it is easy for Lor to imagine what his father would think or say when he doesn’t like something Lor has done. He has no concept of what would happen when he makes his father pleased.

He is nearly at the end of the primitive village when Lor’s eyes fall on an unusual sight.

One of the Jekuul natives, a young female no older than Lor and having not yet earned her yellow stripes, stands and stares up at Lor. She doesn’t drop to her knees or avert her eyes.

For a few seconds, Lor continues flying, arching his head back to watch for the girl to finally do as she is supposed to but she never does.

Aggravated and surprised, Lor turns in his flight path and descends, landing promptly in front of the girl.

“Why aren’t you kneeling?” he asks before his feet are even secure.

She stares at him, head tilting. Her black eyes are large and reflective, Lor can see himself in them.

He huffs at her, crossing his arms like he has seen his father do so many times before. “Don’t you speak Kryptonian?” he sneers.

After a quiet moment, she scratches at her head and looks around. That seems to answer Lor’s question for him.

“You’re supposed to kneel,” he groans. “Look, like this,” he says, bowing down to one knee and lowering his head. He’s seen so many others do it before.

Then he hears laughter.

Lor looks up and sees the girl covering her mouth as she giggles before she gets down on both her knees and dips her body down in a silly, teetering display. A mockery. Then she gets back to her feet.

“No!” Lor snaps, getting back to his own feet and grabbing her shoulders.

At first, she stiffens, surprised, and looks at him wildly. Her hands grip onto his wrists and she seems afraid.

“Like this,” Lor repeats, then pushes down on her. He dips with her, down to the ground on their knees. But when they both lower their heads, they immediately smack foreheads.

It feels like nothing to Lor, but for the girl, she jolts back and begins rubbing at her skull.

Instinctively, just like he follows his parents’ motions, Lor reaches up and rubs at his own head. They stare at each other as they both sit there on their knees, rubbing their heads.

Then, despite himself, Lor giggles.

The girl giggles.

They both giggle.

Once the giggles subside, they are both sitting on their knees in the dirt and staring at each other expectantly. They don’t speak the same language. They aren’t remotely the same and, yet, Lor has never felt more of a need to communicate with someone in his life.

He points at his chest, at the house emblem emblazoned on his armor. “Zod,” he tells her. “Zod,” he repeats.

For a moment, the girl is quiet, absorbing his words, then she points at her chest and the purple skin. “Jekuul,” she says.

“No, not what you are,” he mutters, catching on quickly. “I’m not…” He is a Zod, though. Maybe more than he is a Kryptonian, if only in his own mind. He sucks in a breath and tries again. He points at his face. “Lor,” he tells her.

Understanding fills her expression and she points at her own face. “Ti’ahl.”

And, maybe for the first time, Lor feels a wide smile cross his face.

From that moment on, their afternoon is filled with delight.

Ti’ahl points at every structure, every creature, every plant with words and phrases that will not stop saying until Lor repeats. Repeatedly, Lor picks Ti’ahl up easily, flies her from location to location, lifts up every boulder and animal they come across as she claps in delight.

It’s thrilling — and Lor laughs more than he has ever laughed before in his life.

By the time the second sun begins to set, a chill quickly crosses the lands, and Lor can see Ti’ahl gain a shiver. It makes Lor feel bad to see Ti’ahl uncomfortable in any way.

“Hold on,” he calls to her at one point, slowing her run through the grass. He reaches up and carefully unclips his cape from his armor. Grinning, he floats toward Ti’ahl and drapes her with the heavy fabric.

After Lor ties the cape closed over her neck, Ti’ahl looks down and touches the knot. A funny look crosses her face and she looks at Lor.

Ti’ahl leaps onto a nearby rock, standing tall and crossing her arms. “ZOD!” she declares herself.

Realizing what is happening, Lor giggles and drops obediently to his knees. “I kneel!” he laughs.

At first, Ti’ahl joins his laughter, but then she becomes strangely quiet.

Confused, Lor looks up at her. “Ti’ahl?” he asks before realizing that a shadow has crossed over them both.

Heart sinking, Lor twists around and sees his father, arms crossed, standing over them both. He looks displeased.

“Father,” Lor gets out, voice thin.

“Is this how I find the Last Son of Krypton? Kneeling before his lessers?” the general snarls. He drops his hands to his sides as Lor begins to stand up and easily kicks Lor back down. “If you lower yourself in the dirt for a mongrel child, you will stay there for your leader, do you understand?”

Breath catching in his throat, Lor nods. “Y-yes, Sir.”

“To the palace. Immediately,” General Zod orders, his gaze carrying over to Ti’ahl. “There will be a price to pay for this, Lor-Zod. Let us see if you are grown enough to pay it.”

Lor cannot bring himself to look at Ti’ahl as he leaps to his feet and takes off in the air. His blood is rushing to his ears, tears building up in his eyes even before he reaches his top speeds of flight.

It isn’t until he was home that he realized he had left his cape.

#Jon Kent #Chris Kent #Superman #Superboy #Damian Wayne #Cassandra Cain #writing #super fic #Super: Super Brothers #Professor Pyg #General Zod

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takonei · 5 years ago

Text

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 2, daily life (Part 3)

Note of the author: To write is to suffer.

Also a week ago I had a test where I had to do a 70 word max commentary on something and that reminded me of the fact that I reached 20k words with this, and I’m not even done with chapter 2 smh

Chapter 2: The wolf and the lamb - Daily life

Day 7 since the beginning of the game. 7:00 AM.

Just like a few days ago, Shuichi couldn’t sleep well due to the upcoming event and what happened te day before. He stared at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity before deciding to get dressed and perhaps join those who have already woken up.

When he finally got out of his bedroom, he saw Miu going out as well. He caught up to her.

“Hey...”

She almost jumped at his presence. “Don’t lurk on me like that, jeez...”

That was absolutely not the case but none of them were in the mood for bickering. They walked to the dining hall in silence.

After a while Miu mumbled in a very low voice: “I’m sorry for yesterday.”

Shuichi took a while to think about a correct response. “Just make sure to talk to Kiyo about this.” She nodded.

There were surprisingly more people than expected. Kirumi, Keebo, Kokichi and Korekiyo were there.

“Good morning.” Korekiyo said, looking at the two.

“Sup.”

“Good morning...” Shuichi responded. “No one was able to sleep, huh?”

“This morning will be stressful for all of us, it’s normal.” Rantaro’s voice was heard as he entered the room, his hands full of tablets. Ryoma was behind him with a part of the tablets as well.

They put the tablets on the table. Shuichi and Miu helped them sort the kubs pads by group. The rest of them arrived one by one to eat their breakfast.

The morning announcement rang and the only people not there were Kaito and Himiko, which was weird considering Himiko’s energetic nature and Kaito was not exactly lazy.

About 15 minutes after, everybody was there. None of them really knew if they were impatient or didn’t want to see their videos.

They separated to make sure no one would hear other videos. After watching the videos, they were ordered to go back to the dining hall.

Shuichi’s group went to his lab, Rantaro’s group to his lab, Kirumi’s group to her lab and Kaede’s group to her lab.

There weren’t any chairs in Shuichi’s lab, so they sat on the floor to make sure everyone could watch.

Shuichi asked if any of them wanted to watch their video first.

“Me. If you guys don’t mind.” Miu said, the regret in her voice.

After making sure he took the right one, he put it down for the others to watch.

Miu Iruma’s motive video What is your motive!?

Miu took a deep breath. She was faintly shaking.

“Who’s the most important person in *your* life? And now without further ado...”

A picture appeared on the screen.

The kid was not older than 4 or 5 years old.

Shuichi glanced at her. her eyes were red and he could see tears form in her eyes.

“Miu Iruma, the ultimate Street artist...

Famous all around the country for her *marvelous* fluorescent paintings in the streets.

Contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t seeking fame and fortune. Her goal was to protect the only person she truly cherishes, her adopted son.”

Shuichi took a deep breath. He hoped the other videos don’t make them as emotional.

“Our team has managed to get in contact and talk to him. He misses his dear mother terribly, what kind of kid wouldn’t after all? Let’s hear the poor, lonely child’s cry for help then!”

That was just sadism at this point. No wonder Miu completely snapped after watching this. She had a hand on her mouth, holding herself back from breaking into tears.

“Mommy?”

The kid, “Kaz” as she called him, appeared on the screen, sitting on a couch. Miu closed her eyes and faced the ground.

“I don’t understand what’s happening but I believe in mom! I know she can do this! Don’t ever give up! Mom is the strongest mom I’ve ever known, I’m sure no matter what happens, she'll be able to surpass it, I love you mom!”

Kaito pat her back in confort. It was hard for them to watch this, but they couldn’t even begin to imagine how she felt.

Monokuma’s voice continued. “He believes in his mother more than anyone else. Will Miu be able to gather enough strength for him?

Ah, yes... One more thing...

Shortly after our discussion, that brat suffered an unfortunate accident.”

The others frowned.

“What kinda accident? It’s a secret! Find out for yourself. Puhuhuhuhu...”

The screen went black. Miu was clenching to her stomach. She wanted to scream.

Kiyo was most likely thinking about something to calm her down. He set the tablet aside. “We can pause for a moment if you need some time.”

She took a deep breath. A shaky breath. “Don’t- Don’t worry about me. Continue if you want to.”

Kiyo didn’t back down. “The others will understand if we spend more time in this room than we intended at first.”

She nodded, looking at the ground. About five minutes later she had calmed down enough to start another video.

“Is anyone volunteering to watch their video?” Kiyo asked.

“I... I think I can handle it.” Kaito said. He was unsure, but so was the rest of the group.

“Alright. I’m turning on the tablet.”

Once again, the screen lightened up to show the video.

Kaito Momota’s motive video What is your motive!?

Kaito took a deep breath. He was trying to hide his nervousness, but it really showed on his face.

“Who’s the most important person in *your* life? And now without further ado...”

The picture had Kaito with a motorcycle and a gold medal, with his grandparents proudly smiling at their grandson.

“Kaito Momota, the Ultimate Biker...

While he is possibly one of the most loyal member of the biker gang he considers his second family, how could you possibly forget his real one?”

Kaito clenched his fists, but said nothing.

“Thaaaaat’s right! He gave a major part of the money he earned to his own grandparents. How adorable!

I mean his parents couldn’t even do the job of taking care of their own son, yet same son takes care of his grandparents. How ironic!

... Or not.”

Kaito’s expression was unreadable.

“What kind of son would abandon his family while an unfortunate event is affecting them in the worst ways possible?

What happened, you may ask? Find out for yourself! Puhuhuhu!”

The screen went black.

There was a short silence that felt like an eternity.

Shuichi was hesitant, but he spoke first. “You okay...?”

Kaito took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m fine. We can talk about this later, let’s just move on.”

Kiyo raised an eyebrow an stared at him to get at least a glimpse of emotion. He sighed.

“Shuichi, do you wish to see your video now or do you want me to go first?”

He nodded. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He didn’t tell the others about the feeling that something would go wrong very soon. But he couldn’t say anything. After all Kaito and Miu already showed their videos, that would be unfair for them to stop there.

Shuichi Saihara’s motive video What is your motive!?

“Who’s the most important person in *your* life? And now without further ado...”

Shuichi took a deep breath.

A picture of a middle aged man, a young woman about 20 years old and Shuichi himself appeared. He recognized them as his uncle and his cousin.

“Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Violinist...

He has made his own reputation thanks to his parents, ironic considering the fact that the the boy probably saw them less times than I saw dead bodies in a killing game.”

Shuichi winced.

“Since those ‘2popular4you’ idiots weren’t capable of taking care of a single person they left the poor child to his uncle, who took care of him like his own son. Such a nice family, right?”

A wave of nostalgia hit Shuichi. The time spent with them between concerts, the games he used to play with his cousin...

“But all good things come to an end! Those two got taken away in an unfortunate accident.

But what kind of incident? It’s for you to find out!”

The screen turned off. Shuichi was lost in thoughts. He wanted to say that he would get them back no matter the cost but yesterday’s experience made him reconsider his words. Perhaps that’s what Kaito was thinking too after he watched his own video.

He didn’t realize how long he’s been thinking until Korekiyo put a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?”

“Ah- Yes, I’m fine. Just... Nostalgic.”

He faintly heard Miu say “I get you.”

Kaito looked at Shuichi with unease. Like he wanted to say something to reassure him but didn’t find the words to do so.

Korekiyo took the last tablet in his hands. “I guess it’s finally my turn.”

He took a deep breath and turned the tablet on.

Korekiyo Shinguji’s motive video What is your motive!?

“Who’s the most important person in *your* life? And now without further ado...”

The picture featured him and a young woman a bit older than him.

“Korekiyo Shinguji, the Ultimate Therapist...

Able to help people et through the worst traumas the world could inflict. A genius dedicated to heal psychological scars...

Even for his own sister who had sunken into insanity before his precious help. He dedicated his entire life to help poor traumatized sister.”

Kiyo was completely silent and unreadable, it was almost scary.

“She was already borderline psychotic without her sweet brother, but now that he disappeared... Puhuhuhuh! I can only imagine the consequences!

But the wild lady didn’t enjoy her brother’s absence very long due to an accident. But what accident? See after graduation!”

The last video was over. Kiyo retrieved the rest of the tablets. “Before you ask me, i’m fine. Seeing the rest of your videos prepared me for mine.”

He stood up. “Once again, if any of you need anything, I’ll be here.”

Shuichi stood up as well. “You sure? I don’t think that’s very healthy to put the sake of everyone else on your shoulders, even for you...”

He shook his head. “I can assure you I’ll be fine. I will talk to you if it’s necessary, since that’s what this group is for.”

Miu and Kaito joined them. “So... Should we go to the dining hall?”

Shuichi nodded. But Kiyo looked at Miu. “You two go without us, I need to talk to Miu first.”

Miu gave them a weak thumbs-up, leaving the two boys.

As they were walking, Shuichi turned to Kaito. “You heard Kiyo... If you need any help he or I can talk to you. We’re in the same boat, right?”

The biker turned to him, then smiled. “Alright bro. We’re the ‘our parents are garbage and decent people in the family took care of us’ gang, right?” He extended his fist.

Shuichi chuckled and fist bumped Kaito. “Hehe, kinda...”

After seconds of silence Shuichi was still nervous. “Do you think the others are okay?”

Kaito scratched the back of his neck. “Well I hope so... Can’t guarantee anything though.”

They reached the dining hall to see both Kirumi and Kaede’s groups. However Rantaro’s group was still absent.

They were all more or less neutral, or hiding their expressions. Kaede, however, didn’t look well. Maki was patting her back in comfort. But judging by the silence of the room, now was not the time.

Kirumi raised an eyebrow. “Where is the rest of your group?”

A voice came from behind them. “Right here.”

It was Kiyo, with Miu. They looked around and noticed Rantaro’s group’s absence as well. “I see that Rantaro, Kokichi and Himiko did not return.

Keebo looked puzzled. “I don’t really get it, they were 3 and yet they’re the last group to come.”

Kirumi crossed her arms. “Our group was the first to come, and we were only 3. Tsumugi, you said your group watched the videos all at once almost without pausing.”

She turned to Shuichi. “I assume that’s not your case?” her eyes were fixed on his’ like he was her prey.

“Y-Yes, Kiyo suggested to take a breath between the videos.”

Talking about Miu’s reaction was a bad idea, for now.

They waited the last group five minutes before they entered the dining hall. Rantaro looked nervous, Himiko was trying to hide her distress and Kokichi’s eyes were almost as red as Miu’s when they finished her video.

Kiyo hesitated for a moment but spoke anyway. “If any of you need support or therapy sessions I’ll be available. However I cannot force you. Just consider the offer available anytime.”

Kokichi nodded. Rantaro weakly smiled. “Thanks a lot, Kiyo. Your help is more than welcome.”

Shuichi exhaled a breath. But he couldn’t stop feeling nervous. What did those three even see in those videos?

Maki lifted her head. “And now? Is there anything we should do about the videos or-”

“Oh, I know!!” a high pitched voice was heard.

Monokuma popped up out of nowhere as usual.

“Sheesh, you guys were slow watching those videos, I almost wanted to break in those binge-watch sessions. Waiting was bor-”

“Get to the point already.” Rantaro ordered.

The bear laughed. “Puhuhuhuhu! I’m glad you said so!”

He jumped on the table to make sure everyone was listening.

“Watching you guys cooperate to fight despair was interesting, really! Which is why it gave me an idea... For a new motive!”

Shuichi’s eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me, music-boy! You guys talk so much about cooperating and helping each other, it gave me a splendid idea!”

“Let me present you... The accomplice perk!”

The others looked at him nervously. No one liked where this was going.

“Here are the rules. The next blackened, if they manage to get away with their crime, will be able to take one person with them, and they will graduate together!”

This was the last thing they needed. They had just watched their videos. They knew each other’s secrets. Monokuma knew they were watching the videos. Without realizing it, they all fell into a trap they hadn’t anticipated.

“Now do what you want with this, I just want a crime with an accomplice or something. I haven’t seen these in decades!” He disappeared, leaving everyone to themselves.

...

“Well fuck.” Kaito broke the silence.

“No human language can describe the disappointment I'm feeling right now.” Kiyo added, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Shuichi turned to Ryoma. He was reading something on his monopad. After a few seconds he left the room with one of the tablets, presumably his own.

“Where are you going exactly?” Kirumi asked. Ryoma didn’t give an answer. The others were confused.

They heard glass shattering, an object thrown to the ground and stepped on. Shuichi and Rantaro rushed to the kitchen and saw Ryoma, his kubs pad on the ground, shattered to pieces. He looked at them with the most neutral expression possible. “Mind giving me a hand?”

Rantaro raised an eyebrow. “You’re planning on destroying all the tablets?”

Ryoma took the large pieces off the ground. “It’s not against the school rules. We watched the videos. No need for them anymore.”

Rantaro narrowed his eyes. “At least let’s discuss it with everyone.”

They returned to the dining hall to see the others confused. “I was already planning to do this before Monokuma’s second motive. Now is just another reason to do so.”

“H-Hold on! We can’t just destroy them like that!” Miu exclaimed.

“The sooner, the better. I smashed my own tablet. Feel free to do so as well.”

Shuichi was hesitant. “What if... We want to keep at least a souvenir of the people on it? To at least give us some strength to continue...” he trailed off when he saw Kokichi walking off to the kitchen and coming back with about several sharp knives. He proceeded to destroy his tablet without a word as the others were watching. Himiko kept her gaze on the ground.

“Do what you want with your tablets, but I’m not watching this again.”

Shuichi could read a small bit of satisfaction on his face.

Kirumi took hers and did the same. “I get that some of you hold some people close to your heart, but some of us aren’t that lucky.”

Tsumugi destroyed her tablet as well. “It’s for the best.”

Shuichi looked at his reflection on the black screen. He didn’t want to forget them. He really didn’t.

Rantaro spoke up. “Miu, Angie, you two are quite skilled in the field of art, right?”

Miu nodded. Angie kept swinging her legs under the table. “Yup! Yup! Let me guess, you want us to recreate their portraits so we can destroy the tablets anyway?”

“Yes. We’ll have to do without their voices. It’s just to make sure no one watches someone else’s video outside of the groups.”

She hummed for a few seconds. “I’m okay with this, but first!”

She stood up, put the tablet on her chair and smashed it with the giant paintbrush she carries at all times. The tablet was almost perfectly broken in half.

“Done! If you need my help to create something for you, just ask!” she said almost too cheerily for someone who just destroyed the last connection she had with the outside world.

But Shuichi was more surprised to see Kiyo destroying his tablet. From what the video said, he didn’t hate his sister from the look of things. But he shouldn’t assume how he was feeling.

Rantaro himself put his tablet on the ground. He made a quick salute. “So long, partners.” he smashed the tablet several times to make sure it didn’t work anymore.

“It looks like half of us already destroyed their tablets. It’s a good start. I know this won’t solve everything but if we can get them out of the way that would be better.” he added.

To everyone’s surprise, Kaede threw the tablet on the floor to destroy it.

“I... I miss my family. I really do. But...”

She looked at the rest of the group with a newly found confidence. “I don’t want it to make me do things I’ll regret. So if destroying these will help us move forward... Then so be it.”

Rantaro sighed in relief. Maki looked at her, surprised by her -friend-’s words, but she was not mad.

Keebo smiled. “The I’ll take care of it as well.” about ten seconds later, his tablet was no more.

There were now 5 kubs pads intact: Kaito’s, Miu’s, Himiko’s, Maki’s and Shuichi’s. They all looked at each other. The peer pressure was growing, and Shuichi was holding onto his tablet more and more tightly.

Rantaro approached him. “Hey, we suggested the idea of at least keeping the portraits. You don’t have to feel pressured into destroying the tablet right now.”

Shuichi smiled. “Thank you. I just... Think I need a reminder of why I’m fighting against this killing game. So if Miu can make at least a sketch of my family portrait that would be really nice.” He looked at her with a genuine smile. Her eyes widened for a few seconds before smiling back.

“Alright, if any of you wants some family portrait, I’ll be in my lab for the rest of the day making them.”

Rantaro smiled at her. “Thank you for your service Miu.” He turned to the rest of the group.

“I’ll go with them to make sure everything goes smoothly. If any of you need Kiyo’s help or advice, don’t hesitate to ask him. I’m counting on you all to maintain this group together.”

He turned to the ones with their tablets still intact. “Miu, Kaito, Himiko, Maki and Shuichi, we’ll go to Miu’s lab for the portraits.”

“Oh! Oh! May I join??” Angie raised her hand.

Miu chuckled. “Alright, Twinkle! Show me what you got!”

They left to the street artist’s lab. Shuichi didn’t feel good going back after... The previous incident, but he didn’t have a choice. He looked at Miu, she was chatting with Rantaro. At least she looked better than after watching her motive video.

He noticed Himiko being rather silent. He decided to start the conversation. “You okay?”

The small girl lifted her head. “Oh, don’t worry! I’m just worried about... You know...”

“Your family?” he finished. But she shook her head.

“No, I’m worried about Kokichi.”

Shuichi didn’t expect this. “Oh... Right...”

“I know he isn’t a bad person... I just know it... But he is so convinced that he is I just... Don’t know what to say to him.”

Shuichi had absolutely no idea on what was on his video. He wasn’t in the right to ask, and Himiko was certainly not in the right to tell him about it.

“I don’t really know that much about him but...” he put a hand on her shoulder. “Stay by his side. It’s easy to tell he likes you, you know?”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

He hummed. “I talked to him the other day, he doesn’t really get why you like him so much, but he doesn’t complain. I guess he is just very shy and anxious?”

Himiko clenched her fists, but more in a determined manner than an angry one. “Then I’ll help him overcome it! I know he wants to better himself, so I’ll help him!”

Shuichi smiled and ruffled her hair. “You’re a good person Himiko. I’m glad he has someone like you to help him.”

She wiped a small tear in the corner of her eye. “Oh! I’ll ask Angie to add him on my family picture!”

Shuichi chuckled. “Also, try to encourage him to seek out help to Kiyo if he hasn’t already. We have the Ultimate therapist with us. That’s quite convenient.”

She hummed. “I will!”

They arrived at Miu’s lab. Angie turned to Miu. “Soooo how do we split the work?”

Miu clicked her tongue. “Depends on how they want to stylise the portrait. Either something fancy with you, or something modern with me.”

Himiko jumped. “Angie! Can you do mine?”

She smiled. “Of course!”

They shared the work. Miu would work on the family portraits of Shuichi, Kaito and herself.

Angie took Himiko and Maki with her.

The rest of the morning was spent finding ideas. Angie may not have her lab open, but Miu had enough materials to make the portraits.

Kirumi brought them lunch so the girls wouldn’t loose their focus.

Miu’s group brought paint to Shuichi’s lab to do her work. Shuichi had gathered several music sheets and after taping them on the wall, Miu used them as a canvas.

Shuichi was very impressed by the final result. It was easy to see that Miu put her whole heart and soul into it.

“So? How’s that for you?” she proudly asked.

Shuichi felt tears in the corner of his eyes. “It’s really impressive. Thanks a lot, Miu. I’m really glad you accepted to do this for me. That means a lot.”

She looked at her with a weak smile. “Don’t sweat it. I can only get what it’s like to miss your family.”

Shuichi looked at the portrait for a good thirty seconds. Thankfully Kaito and Miu didn’t say anything.

“I think we should move on. Let’s just find something to smash this thing.” he broke the silence.

After destroying the tablet they saw Angie working on an impressive portrait with its frame, all made using origami. Rantaro was observing, since he didn’t have the necessary skills to help.

Then went on Kaito’s family portrait. Surprisingly he didn’t want something too different from reality, so Miu simply made a reproduction of the picture offered by the kubs pad.

Angie, Himiko, Rantaro and Maki left for the latter’s lab.

Kirumi had come to clean up the broken tablets. When asked where she was even putting them, she said Ryoma could use some of the components with some tools from the warehouse, but that it was fine since there was no possibility to recover the parts containing the videos specifically, or just being able to watch any video at all.

She had stayed to watch Miu paint a part of the giant walls. The portrait of her son was astonishing. If Shuichi’s family portrait was wonderful, hers was simply divine.

Kirumi had just assumed it was her little brother, so Kaito and Shuichi went along with it since it was easier to explain.

By the time they were finished, it was about 6 PM. Kirumi also took the broken pieces of Maki’s tablet.

The evening came, and everyone felt definitely better than they were at the beginning of the day after Monokuma announced the second motive. After all, all of the tablets were destroyed, which lifted the anxiety the majority was feeling.

After dinner, Shuichi, Kaito and Rantaro went outside to talk.

They were mostly relieved that Miu had managed to calm down. Kiyo even told them that she would get a therapy session the next day after the morning announcement and breakfast.

However Rantaro felt off.

“Is something wrong?” Shuichi asked.

He lifted his head to look at him. “Oh, nothing. I’m just a bit anxious about what Monokuma will come up with next. To make sure everyone gets along is a challenge here.”

He chuckled. “Even back on the front lines we cooperated more. But that doesn’t really matter now.”

Kaito smiled. “Hey, it’s not the best situation, but we can manage! Look at us today, we managed to open up even more!”

He extended his fist. “We’re doing good, so let’s just continue sticking with each other. Man’s promise?”

Rantaro laughed. “Whatever you call it. Man’s promise.” he extended his fist as well.

Shuichi was a bit nervous, but did so anyway. “Yeah. Man’s promise as you say.”

They left to go back to the dorms, but Shuichi decided to go to his lab for a while, to look at his family portrait one last time.

Even after hours it was still eye candy to him. She really had managed to capture their essence, and even his passion for violin with the music sheets used as a canvas.

After a few minutes he left his lab.

Just when he was about to go to his room he noticed Kaede, visibly nervous, leaving her room.

“You okay?” he asked.

She almost jumped. “Yes, don’t worry about me I’ll just... Go write on my notebook. It helps me relax.”

Shuichi was almost not convinced. “If you say so... Just don’t wander too much in the hallways, alright?”

She smiled. “Of course! It’s only to clear my mind. Those times have been quite stressful, you know?”

He nodded. “I know... But how can you be inspired in times like these?”

She chuckled. “You know, sometimes it’s less about inspiration and more about a way to mentally escape this cage. A sparrow may be nothing but a prey to a man, but it will fly further than the man will ever be able to.”

Shuichi smiled. “That’s a nice way of thinking.”

“Oh well, maybe I’m just rambling. See you tomorrow!” She left.

Hopefully tomorrow would be fine.

...

Day 8 since the beginning of the game. 7:30 AM.

Shuichi woke up feeling rested. He felt the worry slowly fading away, and more and more determined to end the game.

After dressing up he walked to the dining hall, only to see that no one was there. He couldn’t even ask himself why he was alone when he heard it.

The cursed music, and the voice he resented more than anything.

“Ding dong, dong ding!”

“A body has been discovered!”

“Everyone, please gather at the library!”

Shuichi froze.

“What...?”

He didn’t even think. He rushed to the basement, only to see Kirumi, Rantaro, Kiyo and Ryoma looking at the table that he could not see because of the pile of books.

He slowly approached them. That’s when he saw it.

On one of the chairs rested the inanimate body...

... Of Kaede Akamatsu, the Ultimate writer.

#ndrv3 #danganronpa v3 #ndrv3 au #beta au #main story

11 notes · View notes

lelitachay · 5 years ago

Text

Frozen fanfiction: Søsken

Summary: Even though Anna loved her sister-in-law, she couldn’t help but notice there was something peculiar about Elsa. Everything starts to make sense after an accident and a forced family reunion.

Modern AU. Kristanna - Frohana - Kristoff & Elsa BrOTP.

Chapter 1 - North mountain

Chapter 2 - Aftermath

Chapter 3 - Family

Chapter 4 - Siblings

Chapter 5 - Confinement

Chapter 6 - Better days

Chapter 7 - A matter of pride

Chapter 8 - The calm

Chapter 9 - The storm

The truth

Anna stood in the middle of the room, waiting for her parents to say what they needed to say. The way they were behaving didn’t sit well with her, and she was dreading what was to come.

Idunn looked at her into the eye and said, “We do. We know Elsa. She...” A deep breath interrupted her. She knew talking with her daughter about the past was not going to be easy. However, she knew she couldn't beat around the bush anymore. “She's our daughter.”

Agdar flinched at Idunn’s words. He had hoped Idunn would change her mind and say something different, but he didn’t expect her to be so straightforward. Anna, on the other hand, was paralysed, she didn't know how to process what her mother had said. She tried to come up with a reasonable explanation to why her mother would say something like that. Elsa being their daughter didn’t make any sense.

After a few seconds in silence, Idunn tried to get a reaction out of Anna, “Dear? Do you understand what I mean?”

“I understand the words…” said Anna, who was still trying to comprehend how it could be possible. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean. If this is a joke, I swear I-”

“It’s not a joke, Anna,” cut in Agdar, who finally dared looking at her in the eye too. “We are sorry we kept this from you.” There was no point in denying the truth anymore.

“How is it possible? It doesn’t make sense.” Using the table to support herself as she sat on one of the chairs, Anna tried to voice her thoughts, “Elsa is… What?”

“Our daughter,” Idunn moved from her place to the chair next to Anna. She sat down and rested her hand on top of Anna's, which was still holding the table. She knew it was going to be hard for Anna to process the truth, so she gave her time. But Idunn knew she needed to explain this situation better before Anna began jumping to conclusions. The conversation was going to be a difficult one, but it was time they tried to make up for their mistakes; being honest with their younger daughter was the first step. “Your father and I had a daughter before you. Elsa. We hadn’t seen or heard about her until tonight.”

“I can’t believe this.” Anna’s mind was trying to come up with reasons that could justify why her parents hadn’t told her about this or why they had abandoned a child in the first place, but she couldn’t. Elsa, the shy girl she had met as her sister-in-law, was her sister. ‘I’m Elsa’s sister...’ thought Anna as she felt a wave of nausea at the implication that her parents were the ones who had abandoned Elsa. The ones responsible for the life the girl had had to live before the Bjorgmans. Even if she was not sure what had happened to Elsa in the past, The way Elsa behaved whenever her past was brought up give Anna the idea it had been bad. She knew Elsa’s lack of education was just the tip of the iceberg. “Are you sure this Elsa is your daughter? It could be a coincidence. The name an- and the orphanage. It’s possible-”

“When I first saw her this evening standing next to you, I felt there was something strange. She looked familiar,” interrupted Agdar.

“Then she mentioned she was adopted… She mentioned Romsdal.” Idunn tightened her hold on her hand. “I realised at that moment. I knew it was her. All of a sudden her eyes looked at me the way they had years ago. They haven’t changed.”

“Something similar happened to me,” continued Agdar. “The orphanage she mentioned rang a bell in my head. But instead of keeping quiet like I should, I freaked out.”

Anna noticed the shame in her father’s eyes and finally understood his outburst earlier that night. Both her parents had realised at dinner they were talking with their daughter. “That’s why you reacted the way you did…”

He didn’t raise his eyes from the floor, “she was sitting there, right in front of me, telling me her childhood had been the opposite of what I had wished for it to be. Telling me the person we had left her with was a bad man.” He built up his courage and looked at her, “I had to believe she was mistaken. I had to. I wanted to believe the girl with the sad look on her face was not Elsa, not our Elsa, but-”

“But then she lost control of her powers and we knew. There was no mistake,” said Idunn, who was trying in vain to dry the tears that had escaped.

Anna stayed silent after her parents confirmed Elsa was their daughter. What called Anna’s attention was they hadn’t been surprised about Elsa’s powers. They hadn’t been shocked at the display of ice magic like she had, they had been shocked to see it was indeed their daughter who was sitting in front of them. They had used them as a confirmation of Elsa’s identity.

‘Could it be that they abandoned her because of her powers?’ thought Anna, who then mentally slapped herself. It was impossible. There had to be a different reason.

“Why would you abandon your own daughter? You need to explain this to me,” Anna’s vacant expression was changing. She no longer felt lost, but a feeling close to anger was taking over her body. Her parents were not only telling her they had lied her whole life, they were openly admitting they had abandoned a child in another city too.

“It’s only fair we do,” said Idunn as she began telling Anna the story of their youth. For the first time was willing to tell Anna the truth about their family and her relationship with Agdar. She planned on talking about every single thing they had hidden. Anna had always been a curious girl, she had asked questions about their youth before, how they'd met, where they’d studied and all the adventures they had had together. Every time Anna had asked one of those questions, they had answered as close to the truth as possible, but always being careful not tell her anything about Elsa. This time was different. This time she began her story telling Anna everything she needed to know, including the story of Agdar and his father. Idunn explained he had always disagreed with their relationship and he had forbidden his son to date people that didn't reach his standards for years. Idunn reflected back on that time, and everything they went through back then.

Agdar was in Romsdal’s college studying business when he met Idunn. He wanted to show his father he got what was needed to help in the family business and one day inherit his company. He often disagreed with his father's decisions but there was nothing he wanted more than to make him proud. At least that was his aim until he met Idunn, a simple girl from Romsdal who worked at the college cafeteria. Both of them fell in love faster than they had imagined and they believed they could enjoy their romance without worry. They both believed they could work out the details of their relationship in the future, after Agdar could prove his father he was an important part of the family business.

However, life had other plans for them at the time. Only a year into their relationship, Idunn got pregnant. Young, inexperienced and with Agdar's father against their relationship, things became hard for the young couple. They talked about their options in regards the pregnancy, and they agreed to keep the baby. After all, their main problem was not the pregnancy itself, it was money.

Agdar's family had enough money to help them out, but it was impossible for the young man to ask for money without giving his father a reasonable explanation. And telling him the truth was off the table. If he had come to his father's office claiming he was going to be a father out of wed - with a common girl from another town - his father would have made him choose between the Arendelle family or his bastard child. Agdar believed it was best to let his family know once the baby was born, after he had finished studying and he had a stable job to support the baby.

Idunn believed it was best to come clean and accept whatever his father said. But at the same time, she didn't have a plan if Agdar left her. She didn't have a family who could help her, and working was going to be impossible with a newborn baby. That’s why Idunn chose to trust Agdar and follow his plan. She continued working and Agdar studying. Both of them cut expenses as much as possible and saved money for when the baby arrived.

The first months were uneventful, giving the couple the impression they were going to be able to do everything on their own; but that ilusion didn’t last long. Idunn got sick on the fifth month, and even though the illness was nothing to worry about, it forced her to stop working and to find a doctor for regular check ups. The doctor’s appointments cost more than they were able to afford. Even with Agdar finding a part-time job, money didn’t seem to be enough to pay for Idunn’s medical care.

When thing got out of their hands, and Agdar was about to call home and explain what was going with his life, a co-worker mentioned something about a doctor willing to provide free health care to women who accepted to be studied during their pregnancy. The doctor, Mr. Weselton, was carrying out an investigation on pregnancy and its stages, and he needed a mother and baby to follow and test during the pregnancy.

Out of money and ideas, the couple agreed they could give Dr. Weselton a chance. The tests sounded weird to Idunn, but they thought that being under constant care of a doctor was going to be better than anything at all. And they had to be thankful the man was willing to pay for everything, even Idunn's hospitalization when the baby arrived. After an interview with the man and a brief explanation of his procedures, they agreed to participate in the investigation. Weselton was a really dedicated doctor who kept a close eye to Idunn’ and the baby’s health. Agdar had to admit he was a little eccentric at times, but he had been the only one lending them an understanding ear. He not only helped the young couple with useful advice about babies; he had even allowed Idunn to stay in a room in his clinic a few days before the delivery, to make sure she and the baby were okay.

After some very stressful nine months, a white-blonde haired girl was born. Elsa. In Idunn’s opinion, Elsa looked too small and fragile she was afraid something was wrong with her. But Weselton assured them everything was okay. They stayed in the clinic for two more days after Elsa’s birth where Weselton did a few last check-ups, and then the couple was allowed to go back to their apartment.

At the beginning, everything seemed perfect. Elsa was quiet and peaceful, even more than they had imagined a newborn could be. But after the first month, they began noticing Elsa was not like other babies. For starters, she was constantly cold. It didn’t matter what Idunn used to wrap her with, Elsa’s body was all the time cold. In general, she was a quiet baby, but whenever she began crying, the temperature around her dropped. The couple wanted to believe they were crazy - that it was impossible for a baby to make a room colder -. But by the second month, little Elsa began creating ice and snow around her. She began freezing her crib and Idunn was forced to stop breastfeeding her due to the cold temperature.

Afraid of the worst, they took Elsa to Weselton. They believed the good doctor was going to be able to give them some answers about Elsa's strange condition but, to their dismay, he couldn't really explain why Elsa was born the way she was. He did explain about children who were born with strange abilities. He told them about the academic articles he had read in the matter. He confessed though; he had never heard about a baby creating ice at will. He suggested running some tests on Elsa, to which the couple agreed.

The tests resulted inconclusive, making Elsa’s condition a mystery. Seeing the couple’s worry, Weselton suggested they left Elsa under his and his clinic care permanently. He had the resources to give the child a good healthy lifestyle, and make sure she had everything she needed in case her abilities grew. He insisted it was best if the baby stayed in the clinic 24-7 taking into account the risks of raising a child with an ability as strange as Elsa’s. All the time the doctor focused his suggestions on the baby's best interests and tried his best to convince the couple.

Agdar and Idunn understood his concerns and they knew the risks of raising Elsa on their own but they didn’t agree with his suggestions. Elsa was barely two months old and they didn’t know if her condition was permanent. They thanked Weselton for his care and support during the pregnancy and explained they were not willing to give their baby up just like that. Idunn was convinced they were going to be able to raise Elsa perfectly fine on their own, even if her “powers” as they called them proved to be a challenge.

Elsa’s powers became a challenge faster than they imagined, though. After the sixth month, things became more and more difficult. Elsa began freezing their room and making snow inside their small apartment resulting in severe health problems for Idunn and Agdar. The money was becoming an ever present problem in their life, and they soon realised they were not going to be able to give Elsa the care she needed in that situation.

As a last resource, Agdar travelled to Trollheim and told his father the truth. He confessed he had been in a relationship with Idunn for over two years and he came clean about Elsa. Before he was able to tell him about his baby’s condition, his father lost his patience. He condemned Agdar for his actions and gave him an ultimatum. Agdar had to forget about Idunn and the baby, and he had to return to Trollheim, to finish his studies there under his careful watch. Or he could forget about the Arendelle family and their help. He was going to be on his own from then on.

Not knowing what to say or do, Adgar promised his father an answer for the end of the week and returned to Romsdal. He had just a couple of days to decide but he needed Idunn’s opinion on the matter - of course he didn’t let his father know that asking Idunn was his intention -. With a broken heart and more problems than expected, he travelled back home to talk with Idunn about their options.

They tried to come up with a solution to their imminent problem once Agdar returned. They talked about their options and tried to come up with the best scenarios where they could stay together, keep Elsa and find a solutions to their economic problems. But their future seemed bleak. Every option forced them to leave something behind. After discussing for almost two days, they agreed they were not willing to break apart. They were going to find a way to make enough money to support their dysfunctional family along the way.

Agdar was ready to call his father and give him his answer, when Elsa froze Idunn's arm. Idunn cried in pain and, out of instinct, let go of the cause of the pain. Making Elsa fall to the ground. Agdar jumped from his chair to check on his daughter who, luckily, had created a pillow of snow. The fall hadn’t hurt Elsa like they feared, but they realised at that moment that Elsa’s powers could be dangerous. Not only for themselves, but for Elsa too. They realised that without proper care, anything could happen to them or Elsa. Elsa’s accident forced them to see they were truly out of ideas, and her powers only continued to grow stronger, becoming more and more dangerous in the process.

At that moment, out of fear and lack of options, they changed their original plan. Even if it caused them great pain, they chose to leave Elsa in the hands of Weselton. The doctor had promised to take care of her, which was exactly what they couldn't do anymore. From their experience with the man, they knew he was going to have the baby’s best interests in mind. After all, he had kept track of Elsa’s development from the beginning. Their only problem was they had cut contact with Weselton after their last meeting. They had left his clinic claiming to take care of Elsa without his help; not calling the man ever again. They couldn’t show up asking - begging - for help after that. Besides, they were not sure if a man as decent as Weselton was going to be okay with their idea of leaving Elsa under his care for a couple of years and then return for her, when their situation improved. Agdar and Idunn had agreed to keep fighting for a better future together, even if Agdar had to return home and they had to leave Elsa behind. The plan was for Agdar to return home and for Idunn to move to Trollheim. Idunn was going to find a job and save as much money as possible while Agdar finished his studies and found a good job, in his father’s company or any other company.

To make sure Weselton took Elsa in, and to avoid any problems; they waited till the last day they were staying in city before taking Elsa to Weselton’s healthcare centre, they knew the facility worked as an small orphanage for kids too; so they knew there was going to be someone at all times to pick Elsa once they left her. They thought the best option was to leave her in the doorstep, with a simple note and her name. They didn’t want to face Weselton, sign any papers nor give Elsa’s documents to him. They were not sure, but they believed they had better chance to claim Elsa back if they kept her papers with them. After all, their plan was to get back on their feet and return for the girl once they could take care of her the way she deserved.

With pain in their hearts and a silent promise, they left Elsa in a small bassinet in the orphanage’s door and went to Trollheim, hoping to change their luck and return as soon as possible for their daughter.

It was the middle of the night when Idunn finished her story. She had had trouble explaining their decisions to Anna, but she had made sure she told her the truth. Agdar had helped her in some parts of the story and had given his own justification for his decisions and his actions at the time. He hadn’t felt sure about letting Anna know their story at the beginning, but once Idunn started, he understood his wife’s motivation and joined in. Talking had proven to be cathartic for both of them and they felt the need to continue until everything was out; until Anna knew everything they had kept to themselves for over twenty years.

“Elsa was ever present in our mind, but we needed to wait till the right time to get her back at the time,” finished Idunn. She knew there were many things to explain yet, but at least she had answered her daughter’s question. They had explained their reasons for leaving Elsa behind.

Anna kept quiet for a minute, processing everything her parents had told her. She had always imagined they had had a simple, uneventful life; however, they were there telling her everything they had gone through. What she had believed to be a terrible joke at the beginning was now a truth she couldn’t avoid. She had an older sister. She had an older sister who her parents had abandoned.

“How old was she?” asked Anna when she found her voice. The question had come out harsher than she intended, but she guessed it suited the way she was feeling.

The tone Anna used caught Idunn and Agdar by surprise. They had been waiting for Anna to say something - anything - but they hadn’t expected her to sound angry and disappointed. They couldn’t expect Anna to be okay with their actions, but to hear her talk to them like that hurt more than they imagined.

Angered by they silence, Anna repeated the question, “How old was she?”

“Ten…” murmured Idunn. Not knowing what else to say.

“Ten?”

“Ten months old,” clarified Agdar.

“Are you really trying to justify the fact that you left a ten-month-old baby in a doorstep in the middle of the night?”

“I know it sounds bad-”

“It doesn’t sound bad. It is bad! It is awful!” interrupted Anna with disgust.

“You have to understand. We didn’t have an option,” counter-backed Agdar, feeling helpless.

Anna tried her best to calm down. Breathing a few times, she chose to give her parents the chance of the doubt, “can you look me in the eye swear you didn’t have another option?”

Both looked anywhere but her eyes. They wanted to say they didn’t, but the doubt had always remained in their minds.

“Oh, my God!”

“Anna, please,” begged Idunn. “We are not proud of what we did, but at the time it was the best for Elsa.”

“How can you say that?” Anna said with frustration. “She was just a baby! She needed her family! I don- Why do you think it was the best for her?”

“Because we were young, inexperienced and we-”

“You were young and inexperienced when I was born, why was Elsa any different?” she knew she was being a little too harsh with her parents, but the thought of a baby Elsa all alone in a doorstep make her heart sink.

“Anna, did you see what she just did?” said Agdar exasperated. He needed Anna to understand. He needed his daughter’s forgiveness. He had lost a child for his own stupidity, he didn’t want to lose another.

“I can’t believe this!” That was it, her father had said what she was afraid to hear.

“Anna…”

“You abandoned her because she was different?!” ‘Different…’ the word echoed in her mind as she remembered the conversation she had had with Elsa just a week before, ‘Gerda helped me see I was not a nuisance just because I was different.’ Realising what Elsa had truly meant that day broke Anna’s heart now that she knew Elsa’s fears were true.

“No! That was not it!” exclaimed Idunn. Tears streamed down her face. “We… we tried, Anna. We really tried but we were young, we didn’t have enough money and… Elsa…” she paused to breathe. “She needed someone who could take care of her. We were not prepared.”

Anna was torn. She wanted to believe her parents and to think they had done the best thing. But having heard about Elsa’s miserable childhood made it hard for her to accept it. Not to mention she could have had a sister if they had tried a little bit harder. “I don’t know what to think.”

“I’m not saying what we did was right,” tried to reason her mother. “But, please, try to think we did it with the best intention.”

The three of them kept quiet. Each lost in their own thoughts. The true was out and it was tearing their family apart.

Anna was the first to break the silence after a few minutes, “you need to apologise. You need to make things right.” She was not sure if it was or not for the best. But in her opinion, Elsa needed the truth.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Anna,” said Agdar. “How do you expect us to just walk into her life and-”

“You need to fix this shit,” anger clouded her judgement once again. She was tired of her parents trying to run from the truth. “She was all alone for thirteen years until Gerda and Kai took her in. The least she deserves is an apology.”

“Anna, some things are better-”

“You have to apologise and make things right. I can’t keep this secret from Kristoff, you know that, right?” After saying it out loud Anna remembered her boyfriend and the impact this was going to have in his life, too. ‘Oh, God, Kristoff. He was so scared for Elsa and for what we were going to think… How will he take this?’

“Can you forgive us?” asked Idunn one last time, hoping to hear a positive answer.

“I- I don’t know. It’s- This so messed up. I still can’t believe what Elsa did tonight was real… And now you guys… This is a lot to take in.” Anna put her head in her hands hoping for all of it to be a dream. “I need to lay down,” she said, suddenly standing up and leaving her parents alone in the dining room for the night.

Kristoff woke up early the following day. He hadn’t been able to sleep for more than a couple of hours. He had laid down in his bed the whole night, but what had happened at Anna’s replayed in his head over and over again. The more he thought about it, the more he knew he could have helped his sister before she lost control. He could have avoided the situation they were living, but he had messed up.

He also knew that running after Elsa in the middle of a snowstorm and forcing her to calm down hadn’t been the worst of it all. He still needed to explain what had happened to his girlfriend and his in-laws; and he was not sure how Elsa was going to react once she woke up. Waking up after being drugged was always difficult for Elsa. Her mind always tricked her to think she was in some place different than she actually was; and this time, he knew it was going to be even harder for her. Because this time, instead of relaxing after knowing she was in a safe environment, she was going to remember the incident. She was going to realise she had failed at keeping her powers secret. Something she had been trying her best to do for ten years.

He looked at the time again, and seeing it was a few minutes past seven, he got up. He knew there was no reason in trying to fall asleep. He knew Elsa was going to wake up soon. He wanted to be up when that happened.

He wasn’t surprised to find his mother sitting in the living room, which was just a few meters from Elsa’s room. He was sure she hadn’t been able to sleep either. She knew how important it was to be near Elsa when she woke up confused, and knowing his mother’s love for Elsa, she surely had stayed alert to be with her in an instant.

When Gerda noticed his presence, she waved at him and patted the cushion next to her, inviting him to sit with her for a while and talk. They hadn’t been able to talk much the night before. Kristoff had just showed up in his parents’ house late at night with an unconscious Elsa in his arms. He had explained - frantic with worry - that Elsa had lost control; but he hadn’t had the chance to explain why it had happened. Kristoff sat down beside her and, before she could ask, he began talking and explaining. He told Gerda about Elsa’s insistence in not attending dinner, the dinner itself and the moment everything went downhill. He told her about the argument between Agdar and Elsa; and he told her about his stupid mistake of forcing Elsa to stay in the table, even when he knew she wasn’t feeling okay. He explained the accident and everything after until he reached their home. Kristoff was ashamed of the decisions he had made the night before, but he needed his mother to know.

“kristoff…” said Gerda trying to come up with the right words to help her son feel better. She noticed the guilt he was feeling and his worry. “I don't know what to say,” she confessed after a few seconds.

Kristoff looked at her with sadness. “What's there to say? I fucked up.” He took a deep breath and continued, “I didn't help Elsa get out of there and now we are in this mess. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't forgive me.”

Gerda had expected Kristoff to be worried for many things at the moment, but he being worried about sister’s forgiveness hadn’t crossed her mind. She gave him a tender smile and hold his hand. “Don't be ridiculous, Kristoff. Elsa would never blame you for any of this.”

“You mean she will blame herself?” asked Kristoff. “That’s even worse.”

Gerda desperately wanted to tell him it was not true, but she was going to be lying if she said Elsa wouldn’t blame herself. She knew her daughter was going to have a hard time accepting what she had done. She could only hope Anna’s family would be understanding.

Kristoff interrupted her train of thought when he continued, “I’ve never seen Elsa so scared before. I didn't know what to say to help her calm down… I wish I hadn’t need to drug her like this.”

“You did the right thing given the situation, sweetheart.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“I drugged her against her will in the middle of the street… Right in front of Anna.” He could hear Elsa’s begging in his head. “The more I think about it, the worse I feel.”

“We've talked about this, Kristoff. It's for the best sometimes. Even if we don't like doing it.”

He raised his head ready to contradict her, but they had argued about it many times before. And sadly, he knew it was true. “I just wish… I- Damn it.”

She noticed a tear roll down his cheek as he slumped back. Gerda understood his frustration and his fears. She knew he didn’t like sedating Elsa, but he was not crumbling in front of her for that reason only. Kristoff was fearing for his sister’s well being now that someone outside their family knew. What it meant for Elsa. What it meant for his relationship with Anna. A conversation had spiraled into a bigger problem in the lapse of minutes the night before, and what was going to happen was still uncertain. “C’mere,” said Gerda, hugging him tight and letting him rest his head in her shoulder. “I know things look bad right now. But everything will be okay. Don’t you worry about your sister. She is safe with us. And don’t be too hard on yourself. You did what you thought was right.”

“Thank you for always being there for us.” Kristoff hugged his mother tighter. Trying to show how much he needed her comfort right at that moment. “I know we are broken and we only cause problems but-”

Gerda detached herself and forced him to look at her in the eyes. “You are not broken. Don't ever say that again. Not you nor Elsa. You are the best thing that could have happened to Kai and me. And we'll always be here for you.”

Kristoff could only smile at the affection and sincerity in Gerda’s eyes. He hugged her once again but their embrace was interrupted by Kai, who had stepped in the room just a moment before.

“Gerda?” he said, calling their attention. “I think Elsa is waking up. It’d be better for you to stay with her now.”

“I'll check,” said the old woman standing up. “Would you mind preparing breakfast for us in the meanwhile?”

“Not at all,” answered Kai, as he watched her disappear into Elsa’s room, closing the door behind her. He then turned to Kristoff. He had heard part of their conversation but there was something he didn’t understand.“Kristoff?” he called his attention.

Raising his head, Kristoff noticed his father was still standing there, and not in the kitchen like he had imagined, “yeah?”

“Why did you force Elsa to stay last night? You know her better than anyone on that matter.”

Kristoff knew his father’s question was well-intentioned, but he couldn’t help but hear some disappointment in his voice. “Because I’m an idiot. She excused herself - like I suggested her doing hours earlier - but I panicked and stopped her.”

“You panicked?”

Kristoff didn’t want to admit to his father he had always tried to impress his father-in-law. He had a lot of respect and admiration for the man, and he wanted to prove he was good enough for Anna. Kristoff knew he behaved differently in Agdar's presence - even Elsa had noticed - but he didn't feel comfortable admitting it. Kai and Gerda had worked hard to make him and Elsa understand their past didn't rule their future. And he didn't want to disappoint his father. However, seeing there was no logical explanation for his actions the night before, he confessed, "I didn't want Anna’s parents to think any less of Elsa or me. I know it’s stupid, but I was afraid Agdar was going to lose respect for us.”

"Kristoff, we've talked about this… if Agdar thought any less of you after an argument he started, then that's his problem. Not yours. And especially not Elsa's."

"I know. I- I just wanted the argument to stop and for them to apologise." Kristoff knew Kai was right, but he had noticed how much Elsa enjoyed Anna’s company, and he wanted them to be good friends. He wanted his in-laws to like and accept Elsa just as much as they accepted him.

Kai extended his hand to help him stand up, as he said, "I understand. Just remember you and Elsa are as good as anyone else. Next time, let Elsa set her own boundaries, okay?"

Kristoff nodded and accepted his hand, standing up. The two of them walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast and keep their mind occupied.

Elsa woke up and recognised the drowsiness she felt and the pounding in her head. She knew she had been drugged, but she couldn't remember much about the day before. Her heart rate accelerated as she tried to figure out where she was, but to her relief she was able to recognise the shelf opposite to the bed when she opened her eyes. The stuffed animals Gerda had gifted her when she’d moved in with the Bjorgmans were looking at her; letting her know she was in her old bedroom. She groaned as she felt a too familiar sickness take over her body. She knew the dose of Benzodiazepine had probably been too strong this time, and her body was feeling the effect. She tried to sit, but a warm hand stopped her, caressing her hair. The gentle touch belonged to Gerda, she knew - so, she closed her eyes once again and let her body relax. She was not sure what had happened, but if her mother was there, she could rest assured she was safe.

"Elsa?" asked Gerda after watching her daughter close her eyes again. "How are you feeling?"

Elsa opened one eye to look at the old woman sitting by her side and muttered a simple ‘hi’. She knew something had happened the day before, it was the only explanation for her to be waking up there, and for Gerda to be looking after her. But for some reason, she let herself enjoy the feeling of being oblivious, at least for one more minute.

“Are you okay?” It was not normal for Elsa to be so at ease after an anxiety attack, and her attitude worried Gerda. She just hoped Kristoff hadn’t used more drug than necessary.

“I feel a little sick,” answered the girl as she sat on the bed. With a crestfallen expression she asked, “What did I do?”

The tiredness in the girl’s voice gave her the idea Elsa had given up. As if she knew that whatever had happened to her had been her fault, and she was merely waiting for the answer. It broke Gerda’s heart to think that she couldn’t give her daughter another answer. She couldn’t tell her she hadn’t done anything this time. But there was no point in lying or delaying the inevitable. She sighed and held Elsa’s hand in hers before telling her what Kristoff had told her minutes earlier.

Kristoff and Kai could hear Gerda talking in Elsa’s room, and they could feel the temperature in the house dropping. They knew Elsa was reliving what had happened the night before. Years of living with Elsa had got them used to the idea of the temperature changing inside the house at any time, however, it didn't mean it was any easier for them. Especially now that they knew the reason behind it. Both men knew it was best to let Gerda calm Elsa down before going into the room.

An hour later, Gerda entered the kitchen with a sad look. It was all Kristoff needed to know Elsa was not taking it good.

“She wants to talk to you,” said Gerda, looking at Kristoff.

Not saying a word, he stood up and walked towards his sister’s room. When he entered, he saw Elsa lost in thought looking at her hands. Even with her head down, he could notice her red puffy eyes. Kristoff cleared his throat and muttered her name.

Elsa looked at him and her face contorted with pain. Fresh tears rolled down her face, “Kristoff... I'm so sorry, I-” a sob interrupting her apology.

Kristoff rushed to her side, putting his arm around her. He knew Elsa was crying her frustration and he wanted her to know he was there for her. Since Elsa had joined the family, her life had revolved around keeping her powers under control. Working hard to live a normal life without them getting in the way. For years, she hadn’t been able to leave their parents’ house out of fear of hurting others; little by little she had found the courage to insert into society and doing things around other people. Moving to the mountain, where the contact with people was more controlled, had given her the chance to find a good balance between being part of society and being on her own. And after six years without an accident, she had believed she had finally found the strength she needed to control her powers. The accident in Anna’s house was a slap in the face for the girl. Serving as a reminder that she was not ready. That she still couldn’t be trusted around normal people, and it hurt more than Elsa had imagined.

Elsa hugged her brother tight as she cried. There were so many things she needed to say. She wanted to apologise, to beg for Kristoff’s forgiveness. After all, she had probably ruined his relationship with Anna’s family by almost strucking Idunn. She had probably lost Anna’s trust too. There was no way the girl was going to accept her after what she had done. She had managed in a simple dinner to lose the only friend - beside her brother - she had, and probably ruined Kristoff’s life in the process. The more she thought about it, the more she cried, not being able to talk and apologise like she wanted.

“Don't apologise, Elsa” he begged. “It’s not your fault. Please calm down.” He knew his words were not going to have an effect on her in that state, but he needed to try. He needed Elsa to see he didn’t blame her. He had no idea what the future hold, but there was something he knew for sure, whatever happened was not his sister’s fault.

After a minute, she calmed herself down enough to say, “I ruined everything.”

“You didn't ruin anything.” The incredulous look on her face force him to elaborate, “I left the house with you yesterday, so I haven’t talked to them yet. So, let’s not jump to conclusions. I'll explain what happened. They'll understand. You'll see. I know we can trust them.” Kristoff didn’t know if he was saying it to reassure Elsa or himself. He didn’t know for certain how Anna’s parents were going to react, but he desperately needed to believe his words.

Elsa detached from him and dried her eyes. She had finally calmed enough to discuss their situation, “they won't be okay with someone like me being around their only daughter, Kristoff.” Looking at her hands with disdain, she muttered, “I hope they don't hold a grudge against you for this…”

“If they do, then maybe they are not the right family for me.”

Alarmed by his brother’s words Elsa turned to look at him, “don't say that! You love Anna. I know it would crush you if you were forced to stop seeing her because of me.”

“That’s true,” admitted Kristoff. “But I know Anna, and she would never let this fall apart because of an accident. That’s why I know they will listen and try to understand.”

Looking at her hands again, Elsa thought of how close she had been from striking Idunn. “It's hard to ignore fear, Kristoff. If her parents or Anna don't feel comfortable around a freak like me, there's nothing I can do but accept it.”

“They shouldn’t fear you. You are not dangerous,” he couldn’t stand Elsa talking about herself like that.

Elsa didn't dare say anything. She couldn’t find in herself the strength to believe she wasn’t dangerous.

“Do you hear me?” he forced her to look at him. “You are not.”

Kristoff’s certainty gave her the strength she needed to reckon she was not. “What would I do without you?” It was not the first time she’d wondered about it.

Seeing the perfect opportunity to lift her spirits, he answered, “you would eat a lot of pickled herring. There wouldn't be anyone telling Gerda how awful it tastes.”

Elsa laughed wholeheartedly knowing it was true. And Kristoff joined her. There were still things he wanted to talk with her. He still needed to apologise to her, but what was the point of doing it right at that moment. They still had a lot of time.

I apologise for the long wait. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Tagging: @melody-fox, @snowycrocus, @kristoffxannafanatic, @kristannafictionals, @neptrabbit, @skneez, @ellacarter13, @wondering-in-life, @who-i-am-8, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @wandering-bard-from-the-id, @815-allisnotlost, @khartx, @joannevixxon, @betweenthedreams, @lilrann, @burbobah, @rileysfs, @zutonium, @earlvessalius, @blood-jewel, @aries1708, @disneydreamer8901, @the-sky-is-awake, @disneyfan103, @the-magic-one-is-you, @anamaria8garcia, @welovefrozenfanfiction, @bigfrozenfan-archive, @bigfrozenfan Let me know those who want to be tagged in the future. Or no longer be tagged. Please leave a comment saying what you think. Your reviews help me improve.

#sosken #chapter 10 #the truth #anna #elsa #kristoff #frozen #frozen AU #frozen fanfiction #frozen fanfic #kristanna #frohana #kristoff & elsa BrOTP

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thehobbycollector · 4 years ago

Text

The Seer and The Wolf - Ch. 2

50 years later

Kestra Nightshade strolled through the towering trees that covered the western foothills of the Cambrian Mountains, munching on an apple. Morning sunlight trickled through the canopy, sparkling over leaves, making her feel like she was walking through a jewelry box. She had forgotten how ridiculously beautiful the land surrounding Doranelle was. Or she had never noticed. It was hard, she supposed, to appreciate beauty when you’d never known anything else. Technically she wasn’t even in Doranelle, but the magic of the Fae kingdom leaked across the mountains here, like ink into water, enhancing everything it touched.

She kept her ears and her magic alert for any danger as she made her way parallel with the mountain range. She had never been to this part of Doranelle, but she remembered Narenes’ stories of the terrors that lived in these woods: wights, and skin walkers, and worse things. She’d grown up in the south-east of Doranelle, on a country estate where the only monsters they had to worry about were rogue Fae or raiders who didn’t understand that Fae females were just as deadly as the males. Narenes’ land had been bordered on the west by a sprawling vineyard, owned by another of Doranelles noble families, on the south by her parents’ land, and on the east by a river. That river marked the eastern border of Doranelle. And had nearly drowned Kestra when she had fled 65 years ago. She’d been a strong swimmer, even then, but the current had pulled her south for miles.

Kestra chucked her finished apple into the underbrush, noting a trail on her left side. She veered away from it slightly and continued her stroll, carefully casual. She was nearing one of the many fortresses Maeve kept in these mountains, and she didn’t know what the sentries patrols looked like, how far they ranged. She had been on the northern coast three weeks ago, debating taking a ship to Erilea, when she’d had a vision of a pretty blonde girl surrounded by demi-Fae, and had felt a tug under her ribs. A sign of her magic pointing her in a specific direction. She did not want to be this close to Doranelle, but her gift hadn’t steered her wrong yet.

She barely remembered her parents, or their home. Her father had died in one of Maeves’ wars when she was three, and her mother had followed her mate into the Afterworld three years later. The ancient and noble Family Nightshade had never been very prolific in bearing offspring, so Kestra had no siblings or cousins to take her in. Narene and Kestras mother, Avenna, had been friends for centuries, working together to defend their lands when their mates were off at war. Even though Narene already had two sons, both 18 years older than Kestra, she had taken her in and raised her as her own, absorbing the Nightshade lands and funds, to be held until Kestra reached her majority. That was the only home she had any memories of: running wild through the countryside, doing her best to keep up with her adopted brothers. Probably annoying the shit out of them every time she used her gift to find them whenever they tried to hide from her.

She smiled slightly at the memories as she topped a rise and stopped to study the fortress before her. It rose up out of the trees, hugging the spine of the mountain slope, three watchtowers of dark stone encircled by a ring of towering rocks and held together by a large connecting building covered in moss and lichen. It looked like one good kick would send it crumbling to the ground. Kestra could practically hear the magical wards humming between those rocks, setting the hair on her back on end. It’d been so long since she’d been anywhere with that kind of warding. She noted males and females in light leather armor patrolling each of the towers, as she started toward the gate.

***

As Kestra entered the large courtyard beyond the wall, a hooded sentry with his sword strapped across his back stepped out of a door and walked up to her. She stopped and let him come to her, watching how he moved, noting every detail in case this went horribly wrong. Being this close to Doranelle was such a bad idea. When he reached her he pulled back his hood and studied her for a moment, also noting every detail: the sword on her back, the pack over it, the various daggers under her ragged cloak, and the dirt, mud, and stains on her leather pants and jacket. Her blue leather pants. His eyes lingered on her legs, noting that color, before he met her gaze.

“Welcome to Mistward. I’m Malakai.”

“Keina,” Kestra offered.

“Well met, Keina,” he said. “What can we do for you?”

“I was hoping I could stay for a while, if there’s a room available,” she glanced around the courtyard, at the figures going about their daily chores.

“I think we can probably find something for you.” He noticed her glance and added, “Everyone here works for their room and board.”

Kestra nodded at the subtle inquiry in his voice. “I trained with the Vareshi Warrior Priestesses for 15 years, and have walked off about a dozen battlefields. But I’ll take any work you give me.”

Malakai nodded and turned back toward the fortress. “Come with me.”

He led her past the door he had come out of and around a corner to another door at ground level. The top half of it was open, providing a view of a large kitchen filled with work tables and shelves crammed with chipped serving and cookware. Another male was busy layering ingredients into a pan, and chatting with someone she couldn’t see through the open door. He looked up as they entered.

Malakai gestured to her, “This is Keina. Keina this is Emrys, my mate.” Kestra nodded her greeting and acknowledgement of the warning in Malakais voice. He turned to Emrys. “Keina needs a room.”

“I’ll see she gets one,” Emrys responded with a smile for Kestra, and a softer one for Malakai. The sentry stepped closer to his mate and kissed him softly.

“I’m on patrol this afternoon, I’ll be back for dinner.” He turned to Kestra as he headed back out the door. “You’ll be on rotation starting tomorrow. Second shift until you’re familiar with the area. Training ring is on the other side of the fortress, be there at seven.”

“Thanks,” she said to his back as he disappeared.

“Hungry?” Emrys asked. She turned to look at him, and he gestured to a work table covered in platters of food. “Help yourself. We’re between breakfast and lunch, eat as much as you want.”

“Thanks,” Kestra repeated. She grabbed a plate and loaded it down with potatoes, eggs, bread, tomatoes, and a pile of bacon. Emrys waved his hand toward a table on the side of the kitchen that she hadn’t noticed before, where a pretty blonde was sitting holding a cup of tea. The girl from her vision. Her long hair fell past her shoulders, pinned at the sides to keep it out of her face. Her skin was tan from time spent in the sun. Kestra smiled at her as she slid onto the bench across the table, noting her eyes: turquoise, ringed with gold. “Hi, I’m Keina.”

“I’m Evalin,” she smiled back. She took a drink of her tea, allowing Kestra time to dig into her food. Here was another thing she had forgotten: the utter deliciousness of food prepared by the Fae. Her tongue could taste every layer of flavor and spice that had been lovingly blended into everything, even as she covertly studied the girl across from her. She was wearing a tunic and pants, well made of high quality fabric, with subtle details stitched at the cuffs and collars. The pins holding her hair up would have cost a small fortune, but she wore them casually. Kestra noted her rounded ears, but her scent… not entirely human. The girl, Evalin, seemed to be studying her too. Eventually, Evalin spoke.

“What brings you to Mistward?”

Kestra shrugged as she paused her eating to drink from her own tea. “Nothing, really. I’m a bit of a wanderer.”

From the other side of the kitchen Emrys asked, “Where all have you been?”

Kestra took another bite of bacon and thought it over. The information was probably harmless. “Varesh, Akkadia, Ishmalen, Karstok, Amarna…” she mixed up the order, just in case. “And all the little places in between.”

Evalins brows rose slightly at the list of kingdoms that were spread across most of their world, and Emrys let out a soft whistle. “That’s quite a bit of travel to do on your own,” he said. She noted the question implied in the comment.

“I trained with the Vareshi Warrior Priestesses for 15 years, “she repeated what she had told Malakai. “I can handle myself.”

Evalin sighed across the table. “I wanted to be a Vareshi Warrior Priestess when I was a kid. Do they really walk around the Vareshi temple wearing only their weapons?”

Kestra heard Emrys choke as she snorted her tea, and grabbed a napkin to wipe off her face before answering. “No,” she laughed. “Though their style of dress could be considered scandalous in most areas of the world. Blue leather leggings under a black skirt split up both legs to allow for easier movement in battle, and either a short shirt showing the midriff or just a breast band,” she explained.

“No armor?” Evalin asked.

Kestra shook her head. “According to temple code, armor is only for acolytes or the untrained. The theory is that true warriors are so skilled they don’t need armor, and every wound acquired is a lesson in where you let your guard down. I always thought it was kind of stupid, especially since most of the priestesses are human…” she trailed off and shrugged again. She had never really understood that rule. Not when armor would have provided them a better advantage in battle. But she had to admit, their training went a long way toward keeping the priestesses alive. There was a reason they were famous across the world.

She looked at Evalin again, “why didn’t you go train with them, if you wanted to be one?”

The girl sighed. “According to my father, princesses aren’t warriors.” Kestra cocked a brow at the word princess, and Evalin added, “My family rules Wendlyn.”

Both of Kestras brows rose at that. Her magic had sent her to meet an Ashryvver? This definitely was a bad idea. The Ashryvvers were related to Maeve through one of her sister-queens. She couldn’t remember which one. “What are you doing at Mistward?”

Evalin fiddled with her tea cup, glancing at Emrys. “My brother is the Crown Prince, so while I’m a princess of the realm, I don’t really have any… responsibilities at home. I came to Mistward to learn more about the demi-Fae, since I technically am one.” She sat forward and crossed her arms on the table in front of her. “Did you know that Maeve doesn’t allow them into Doranelle?”

There was an ever so slight tinge of disgust in Evalins voice when she mentioned Maeves name, that made Kestra sit up straighter. She shook her head at the question. She couldn’t remember having ever met a demi-Fae when she had lived in Doranelle, though she knew they existed. Mostly in places like the City of Rivers, Doranelles capitol. Humans were allowed into the cities for trade, but they were rarely seen in the countryside where she had grown up.

“Only purebred Fae are allowed to live in Doranelle,” Evalin went on, warming to a topic she had clearly discussed many times. “The demi-Fae are relegated to places like this, on the border between Doranelle and Wendlyn. She lets a few special demi-Fae into her kingdom, if they’re powerful enough, but that’s it. I may have initially come to learn about my heritage, but I decided to stay for a while to help them.”

Kestra tried not to gape at the girl. “You’re… in contact with Maeve?”

Evalin grimaced. “I’ve sent her a few letters. She’s only written back once. She won’t deign to leave her palace in the City of Rivers. Not even for me.” She shifted in her seat. “She’s being remarkably unhelpful, even for her. So, I’ve started lobbying with my family to increase the demi-Faes rights in Wendlyn. The Fae might belong to her, but technically they live in Wendlyn. And should have the same rights as the other citizens.”

Kestra stared at the princess. She didn’t know what to say. This was… What the hell was she doing here? She glanced side-long at Emrys, diligently working on another dish and pointedly trying to look like he wasn’t listening to this conversation. Her gift had brought her into contact with a Wendlynian princess, who was related to Maeve, and… clearly didn’t like her. Kestra looked back at Evalin and asked, casually, “Want some help?”

#fanfic #fenrys #throne of glass #sjm fandom #feedback

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buffyversefanfiction · 5 years ago

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Twisted Tristan

Chapter 6 - Buffy’s Boy (Volume 1)

Warnings: I do not own or claim to own the original content to “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, “Angel”, the comics or any of the original characters from the “Buffyverse” all rights belong to Joss Whedon.

15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.

Buffy just sat there on the couch in her San Francisco apartment in complete disbelief by what Willow had just admitted to her.

Losing Tristan wasn’t the hardest day of Buffy’s life everyday after it was as she was forced to endure for the last three years being a mother without her child while lying to the world about her son’s fate the only thing getting through it all was hoping he was safe but now she had just been told that not only did her son grow up in the past but he had become a crazed killer.

“I know this is an awful lot to try and work your mind around, but I couldn’t search for him without you Buffy.” Willow admitted as she sat next to Buffy.

“So, this entire time he’s been growing up in our timeline.” Buffy replied still in shock by the news of her son. “I can’t even imagine what could’ve happened to him to make him so bloody twisted to go out and hunt slayers he was supposed to be safe and now he’s going around killing people.”

“We should try our hardest not to think about that right now Buffy I’ve got a coven helping me with a locating spell and Faith is going to meet Angel to not only tell him his son isn’t dead but he helped take his evil operation down.” Willow said to her friend trying to prepare her for what was coming next. “We will find him and then I know you and Angel will get through to him somehow.”

“Oh my god Angel,” Buffy answered in horror. “I told him his child was dead I never thought we’d see Tristan again when I did and then I got you and Faith to lie for me he is going to hate me for this.”

Buffy wasn’t taking the news of her recently returned son very well but she definitely took it better than Angel did who had spent the last three years believing his son was dead until Faith had came to the Hyperion Hotel in Los Angeles where he once again resided to tell him not only did they lie about their son’s death but that Tristan was his son.

“Angel just slow down for a second and let me explain.” Faith pleaded with him as she followed him outside of the Hyperion Hotel, Angel clearly both in shock and furious by her, Buffy and Willow’s lies about his own child.

“There’s nothing I want to say to you right now Faith you of all people should never have kept this from me.” He snapped at her as they both stood still outside of the hotel.

“I know I’ve messed up big time here, but Buffy trusted me and after all I’ve done to her in the past, I couldn’t betray her trust again.” Faith admitted to him.

“So instead you chose to betray me,” Angel replied clearly heartbroken by her betrayal. “After everything we’ve been through together after what I wend through with Connor you kept this from me.”

“You can’t begin to imagine how sorry I am Angel.” Faith pleaded with him.

“I’m going to find my son and I don’t want you anywhere near me while I do.” Angel demanded from her coldly making it clear anything between them was now well and truly over before it had even started.

Tristan awakened from his sleep after his very violent and recent ordeal to find himself in a hospital bed in a clearly run down, decaying and abandoned hospital in an unknown location as he quickly rose to his feet and began walking out of the room only to be shocked when Drusilla stopped him in his tracks by walking through the door.

“Drusilla,” He said in shock. “What the hell is going on?”

“Mummy has missed you too my darling boy.” Drusilla replied to him with a sincere smile.

Tristan and his adoptive mother/mother in law vampire Drusilla wasted no time in catching each other up on recent events surrounding their mission to take Buffy and Angel down as Drusilla revealed to Tristan how she nursed him back to health after his little showdown with Rupert Giles and Tristan comforted Drusilla after informing her about the death of their beloved Dante.

“I never saw Dante’s death in my premonitions,” She said to him as the two of them walked down a hallway within the abandoned hospital.

“I guess you can’t see everything after all mother,” Tristan replied clearly still hurting from the loss of his vampire lover Dante. “We tried so hard to do you proud we really did but after all the sacrifices I wasn’t even strong enough to beat Faith never mind Buffy and trying cost me my beloved Dante.”

“I hate to say this to you my darling boy but maybe leaving you two alone wasn’t my smartest of moves.” Drusilla admitted. “I learned the hard way that love tends to soften us far too much.”

“I’m not down and out yet,” Tristan responded defiantly. “I won’t stop until I get revenge on every single last one of them.”

“No, you’re not strong enough,” Drusilla snapped clearly becoming unbalanced as she stopped walking and began pulling at her hair. “It’s what they do they take what is ours and they trample all over it.”

“It’s okay mother everything will be okay,” Tristan told his adoptive mother as he placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “We’ve been thinking about this wrongly I don’t need to be stronger than them to beat them I just need to be smarter.”

After a day spent digging for more information on Tristan ,Willow had found the location of Tristan’s family home and so her and Buffy decided to travel to Riverborn the very next day only to be left shocked when they both walked up to the outside of the Black family home which looked like it was the perfect family home before it was boarded up and abandoned.

“I can’t help but think Tristan would’ve assumed we’d eventually find this place and so mastered this place to be some kind of trap for anyone that came looking for him.” Willow said to Buffy admitting her fears.

“I’m hoping he knew we’d wind up here eventually and I’m hoping he’s in there whether it is a trap or not.” Buffy admitted before she saw Angel walk up the street ignoring both her and Willow as he passed by them and began walking towards the home clearly here for the same reason as her knowing he was far from happy with her for keeping this from him.

“I guess this means that Angel made it here no bother.” Willow replied to Buffy awkwardly as Angel walked in through the front door of the Black family home “Let’s hope he talks to us once he’s calmed down.”

“You stay here Willow and don’t feel reluctant to kill anything suspicious out here unless it’s Tristan.” Buffy told her redheaded friend before rushing into the house after Angel.

Buffy and Angel walked into the living room of the Black family home instantly finding themselves to the photographs of their son with his adoptive parents on top of the fireplace ranging from Tristan being a baby to a teenage looking happy with his parents instantly making them both feel saddened to see their son’s life without them.

“I guess this really was his home after all.” Buffy said to Angel who rolled his eyes at her making her know he blamed her for all of this.

“Well I guess somebody’s a lot smarter than people gave her credit for.” Tristan sarcastically replied as he walked into the living room holding a crossbow in his hands much to Buffy and Angel’s surprise.

“Tristan.” Angel ushered.

“The one and only,” Tristan responded with a smile. “I’m taking it by the confusing looks on your faces and that fact that the both of you are here means you idiots finally worked out who I am.”

“Wait, you know we’re your parents?” Buffy asked in disbelief.

“Biologically speaking only and yes I have known for quite a long time now.” Tristan revealed as he continued to point the crossbow at his biological parents.

“I had no idea what happened to your or where you were.” Angel tried to explain to his son. “All this time I thought you were dead.”

“I honestly don’t give a damn why you both abandoned me I’m not here for answers I’m here for revenge.” Tristan revealed to them both.

“We were only ever trying to protect you Tristan I was only ever trying to protect you.” Buffy pleaded with him. “Neither of us ever wanted this kind of life for you.”

“Tristan, I know you must despise us for everything you’ve been through but all we want to do is help you.” Angel said before Tristan shot two arrows from his crossbow one after the other each in the direction of his mother and father to which they quickly caught before it could do any damage forcing Tristan to run.

Buffy walked down the stairs in the basement the door closing behind her as her and Angel decided to split up in their search for Tristan only for Buffy to be shocked to find Tristan straight away stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs eagerly as if he hoped it would be her that would find him first.

“I figured you too would split up and it’d allow me some one on one time with you.” Tristan told her as he pulled a blade from out of his jacket.

“Tristan it doesn’t have to be like this you’re my son I love you and I only want to help you.” Buffy replied as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“You and your annoying friends are so beyond patronizing it’s annoying just because I chose the road more colored doesn’t mean I don’t love it.” Tristan snapped. “I have killed so many people and I don’t regret a single kill and I have wiped out so many slayers which have been some of my favorite kills.”

“There is good inside of you I know it because I seen those pictures you were good once.” Buffy tried to persuade him.

“Perhaps once upon a time but that version of me died a long time ago.” Tristan admitted as Angel walked through the door and began walking down the stairs. “I guess our alone time’s already up.”

“Tristan I know what it’s like to believe your evil because you’ve committed evil acts and I know right now you must feel like there’s no going back but you’re my son and there’s nothing we won’t do to help you find your way back to who you once were.” Angel promised him as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Love is severely overrated Angelus I loved my parents and they were taken from me.” Tristan told him before his anger towards his father began to show. “I loved Dante and you and that blue bitch took him from me.”

Before Angel or Buffy had a chance of responding to Tristan their troubled son pulled out a device with a button on it as the two parents quickly put two and two together to what that button was connected to some kind of self-made bomb which they guessed was somewhere within the house.

“Tristan please don’t do anything you will regret.” Buffy begged him.

“Don’t worry Buffy I don’t intend on doing anything I will regret.” He replied before pressing down on the button without a second thought.

Suddenly Willow found herself thrown to the ground as the house in front of her exploded into flames much to her own surprise and horror before she quickly rose to her feet fearing the recent explosion would lead to terrifying results for her loved ones.

“Buffy!” She screamed before wasting no time in chanting a spell to eliminate all flames caused by the explosion.

Willow wasted no time in running into the burned down building frantically searching through the rubble and remains of Tristan’s former family home hoping that nobody had come to harm before hearing someone’s groans rushing to the sound and removing the pile of rubble it was coming from to reveal an injured Angel.

“Angel what happened?” She asked him as she helped the vampire to his feet.

“Tristan,” He said in a pure state of panic. “Where’s Tristan.”

The two of them noticed rubble from afar being moved before Buffy was the next injured party to raise to her feet with a dreaded look on her face.

“Tristan.” Buffy screamed before Willow and Angel joined her to shout. “Tristan.”

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luckydoogs · 4 years ago

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HOW TO CHOOSE THE BEST DOG FOR YOU

Once you determine that you’re ready for a dog and capable of caring for one, then it’s time to narrow down your choices. While some people know exactly what kind of dog they want and where to find him, others have no clue. Either way, I’ll walk you through the most important issues to consider.

Puppy or Adult Dog?

at this stage of his life. For starters, you’re in a position to teach your pet from day one. You can prevent habits you don’t like from emerging in the first place, and you can take measures to prevent your dog from having socialization issues later on in life. Of course, there’s also something magical about caring for another living being from a very young age. However, keep in mind that puppies are a lot of work, and the time commitment is huge. A puppy is brand-new to this world and knows nothing of human culture and expectations. Puppies don’t come housetrained, and you have to walk them very often. They haven’t yet learned that they’re not supposed to play bite. Plus, you have to constantly monitor their every move—puppies are extremely curious and often love to chew everything in sight, so if you let your guard down they can damage your home or, worse, get hurt. In short, you’ll need to be extra tolerant and patient for some time. What are the advantages of adopting an adult dog? They don’t play bite as much, and housetraining is a little less difficult simply because their bladders are more developed and they can “hold it” longer. Some dogs may even come fully housetrained and know basic requests such as “sit” and “stay.” Older dogs typically cost less to acquire, too. Also, keep in mind that some of the best dogs in the world are those who have spent years in rescue shelters waiting for the perfect home. However, there may be some disadvantages: Many older dogs may not have been socialized properly as puppies, which can make them less confident in certain situations. For example, many dogs fear men simply because they weren’t exposed to them at a young age. Bad habits like destructive chewing, jumping on people, and pulling on a leash are likely more established, which means it may take a little more effort to put a stop to them. Weigh the pros and cons of having a puppy versus an older dog and remember not to underestimate the commitment a young puppy requires. However, if you have the time and patience to dedicate to a dog regardless of his age, then either can be a perfect addition to your family.

Does Size Matter?

Some people want only a dog they can tote around in their purse; others believe that bigger is better. I’ve worked with dogs of all shapes and sizes, and I’ve learned that size has absolutely nothing to do with the personality of a dog. However, it’s something you should consider. Here’s what you need to know:

Large dogs may require more room to exercise. This is a generalization, but it’s often true.

Smaller dogs tend to have longer life spans. For instance, a Chihuahua can live eighteen years, whereas a Bernese Mountain Dog’s life expectancy is a mere six to nine years. A study published in the American Naturalist found that for every 4.4-pound increase in weight, life expectancy dropped by one month. Of course, many variables will affect a dog’s life span; size is just one of them.

The larger the dog, the higher the costs for his basic care. While a small breed might eat about a half cup of kibble daily, a large one can go through ten times that. Grooming, toys, and other expenses can cost more, too.

Smaller dogs are more portable. You can more easily pick them up and take them in the car or on errands. Also, on most commercial airlines, you can bring a small dog on board as a carry-on as long as he fits in a travel case under the seat in front of you.

Large dogs can ward off strangers. A Bullmastiff sitting in your front window is going to scare off potential burglars more than a Maltese might, simply because of his appearance. (Though a small dog who’s attentive and likes to bark can also make for an excellent watchdog.)

Small dogs are easier to control. I’m not saying that it’s easier to train a small dog. However, when a ten-pound dog jumps up or lunges on his leash, it’s quite different from handling an eighty-pound dog with the same behavioral issues. Think about whether you have the strength to control a bigger dog.

Mixed Breed or Purebred ?

People often fixate on a particular breed, but I’ve got to say that many of the friendliest, smartest, most capable dogs I’ve ever worked with were mixed breeds. These dogs, often found in shelters, are typical results of random or unintentional breeding, and they tend to cost much less than purebred dogs. (We’re not talking about “designer dogs” here. I’ll get to that in a second.) On the flip side, it’s understandable that many people want a particular breed. Maybe they adore Pugs because they grew up with them or German Shepherds because they make them feel safe. Also, there’s the obvious advantage: with a purebred, you can safely estimate the future size, grooming needs, and appearance of your dog. With a mixed breed puppy, you can take a guess, but you might be surprised when the dog you thought was nonshedding and destined to top out at ten pounds winds up leaving hair all over the house and weighing so much you can’t lift him. Many experts argue that mixed breeds are healthier because of what’s known as hybrid vigor: by combining two different breeds, you are pooling from a larger range of traits, so the dog will less likely carry one of the genetic conditions common in certain breeds. However, a large study in the Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association found that the prevalence of certain genetic disorders among purebreds versus mixed breeds greatly depends on the specific health condition.4 Bottom line: I can’t recommend one type of dog over another—for every great mixed breed, there’s an equally amazing purebred. And more research needs to be done on this topic before we definitively know whether one is healthier than the other. Just rest assured that with so many choices, you are sure to find a loving, well-behaved companion.

DESIGNER DOGS

You might wonder about “designer dogs” such as Cockapoos and Morkies. These dogs are mixed breeds with a twist—they’re the result of intentional breeding of two purebreds to create a new breed that theoretically combines the best traits of both parents. For instance, a Cockapoo is a cross between a Cocker Spaniel and a Poodle, while a Morkie is a cross between a Maltese and a Yorkie. These puppies sometimes have a much heftier price tag than purebreds. The popularity of these dogs has dramatically increased since the late 1980s when an Australian breeder named Wally Conron set out to create a nonshedding Seeing Eye dog. He crossed a Labrador Retriever with a Poodle and voilà: the Labradoodle was invented, and a new trend in the dog world was launched. Some experts claim these dogs are healthier because of hybrid vigor, though no studies have proven that. However, keep in mind a lot of these designer dogs come from puppy mills and backyard breeders who are looking to make a quick buck and have no concern for the puppy’s health or temperament. In fact, according to an article in Psychology Today, Conron himself said, “I opened a Pandora’s box, that’s what I did. I released a Frankenstein. So many people are just breeding for the money. So many of these dogs have physical problems, and a lot of them are just crazy.”5 I’m not saying you should avoid these dogs. Just don’t believe all the hype. Designer dogs aren’t that different from the mixes you see at a shelter. Regardless of any benefits, their sellers claim, you still won’t know exactly what you’re going to wind up with, as temperament, appearance, and coat can vary greatly from one dog to another. Many dogs bred not to shed actually do.

CHOOSING A BREED

If you choose a purebred dog over a mutt, then your next step will be to pick a particular breed. I can’t stress enough how dangerous it can be to focus too much on the breed. People choose breeds based on stereotypes and are very often disappointed when their dog doesn’t behave as he’s “supposed to.” However, almost no individual dog will meet all of the characteristics defined by a breed description. Trust me: you simply cannot reliably assign attributes to your individual dog based on his breed. I’ve known lots of retrievers who don’t retrieve, tiny Yorkies who excel at competitive Frisbee, hyper Basset Hounds, and Border Collies who were terrified of the sheep they were bred to herd. I’m not saying to ignore breed altogether. Of course, there are characteristics of certain breeds that remain true: things like shedding and size are not going to vary widely, so these generalizations are more accurate. Also, if you’re picking out a dog, it’s still a good idea to get a wide-angle view of what certain breeds were bred to do, and if you need a dog to, say, herd cattle, then you should probably stick with a herding breed. When I first got into competitive Frisbee competitions, I purposely chose a Border Collie because I knew they are often high-energy dogs with relentless focus and physical stamina. In my dog Venus’s case, she fit the stereotype in those respects, and we won many competitions. However, I know plenty of other Border Collies who wouldn’t have been suited for the competitions at all. In sum, it’s fine to use breed stereotypes in a very preliminary way to get traction on the decision-making process as long as you understand that these are tentative guidelines, not absolute truths. Just as every human within a certain race, religion, or culture is different, the same concept applies to dogs: You need to get to know the individual.

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healthyworthyofficial · 5 years ago

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Woman, 24, makes £30k A MONTH selling nude pics online after quitting her job

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Her previous jobs have included being a “cash-in-hand” waitress at 14, working in McDonald’s, Lidl and as a part-time tour operatorCredit: PA Real Life

She usually does one post a day – a mixture of pictures and videos Credit: PA Real Life “For private requests people can pay for nude pictures and videos of me and some more naughty things, too, like strip teases. “There’s a function called Strip for Tip, and during a live video the more money my subscribers send me the more clothes I’ll take off. “I usually post once a day – a mixture of pictures and videos – but the most time consuming part of the job is making sure I reply to everyone’s messages. I can get hundreds in a day and it can take hours to reply to them all.”

Kaya says money is no object now and she wishes she had joined soonerCredit: PA Real Life Despite her enviable curves, Kaya says many of her fans – who are mainly men but also gets women and couples interested too – just want to focus on her feet. She said: “People have a real thing for feet. I’ve made thousands from mine! “Sometimes, they just ask for pictures of them – or they’ll want videos of me rubbing oil on them, or of me just walking along in the sand. It’s easy money.” She added: “Men also pay me to rate their privates. They’ll send me a pic, then I’ll tell them what I think of it in exchange for money. “Plus there’s the girlfriend experience. Men ask me to speak to them as if I’m their girlfriend for one day and pay me for it. I chat through messages or voice notes. Usually, they’ll tell me what type of girlfriend they want me to be. “Honestly, it would blow people’s minds if they heard what some men ask for – but I just let it go over my head.” She has turned down some of her fans’ more lurid requests for items of worn underwear, to shave her hair off and, on one occasion, to put a slice of bread in her shoe, walk around on it all day and send a male admirer her crumbs.

Sometimes Kaya’s fans use their initiative and buy her surprise presentsCredit: PA Real Life She also has fans who want to “gift” items to her, which she says can be very useful. Kaya, who did her own poll to determine the profile of her fans, which she believes are mostly men in their 20s or 30s, said: “For fans who want to give me gifts, I have a ‘Wish List.’ All I do is add items that I want to it, so they can go and buy them for me. “I ask for all sorts, usually just boring every day items. My brother needed a new mattress recently, so I added it to my list and someone bought it. “When I moved into my house, I asked for things like a kettle and microwave, as well as candles and cushions – and got those gifted too. “I’ve also been given a phone, trainers, clothes, vouchers and books.”

Kaya did her own poll to determine the profile of her fans, which she believes are mostly men in their 20s or 30 Credit: PA Real Life Sometimes Kaya’s fans use their initiative and buy her surprise presents. “I get sent outfits that people want me to wear on camera,” she said. “I’ve been sent a policewoman and a nurse outfit before, as well as a tutu, fishnet tights and a corset. “I also had rope sent to me. I was just like, ‘So, what am I meant to do with this?' “The next day a book arrived which was called The Art of Rope Tying, so I’m guessing they wanted me to tie myself up in rope.”

Within the first month of Kaya being on the app, she had made £8,500Credit: PA Real Life Her fans can also help to maintain Kaya’s immaculate appearance. “There’s a function called ‘Adopt a Bill,'” she said. “Using that, people can pay for me to get things like get my nails or toes painted.” She continued: “Or if something crops up – like if I need to go to the dentist – they can pay for that, too. “I have extensions, which can cost a small fortune to maintain, so, sometimes, I ask for contributions for my hair.”

Her fans can also help to maintain Kaya’s immaculate appearance. Credit: PA Real Life Looking back to September 2017 when she first opened her account, Kaya’s life now is unrecognisable. “For those couple of weeks when I was at university I was as poor as hell and could barely afford to eat,” she said. “I was always worried about money, my parents didn’t have a lot, but they scraped together all they could to give me an extra £30 a week. “I remember being in tears because my laptop basically blew up and I couldn’t afford to fix it.” Her life changed in an instant, however, when, browsing Twitter one day, Kaya found someone with an OnlyFans account and decided to follow suit and start her own.

Fans have sent her a phone, trainers, clothes, vouchers and books Credit: PA Real Life

Kaya decided to quit her university course and concentrate on OnlyFansCredit: PA Real Life She said: “I set it up, then forgot about it for a while. “A few days later I uploaded a bikini picture of myself to see what happened. "When I woke up the next day I checked my account and I’d made £250 overnight – I couldn’t believe it!” After that, she continued to post intimate images and videos to the website. “Within the first month I’d made £8,500,” she said. “I knew I was on to something good, so I decided to quit my university course and concentrate on OnlyFans.

When Kaya was at university she was as 'poor as hell' and could barely afford to eat Credit: PA Real Life “To be honest, I only went to university because I wanted to get a charity job doing international aid. “Now I can volunteer for charities while still earning a wage through OnlyFans. “In January I volunteered at a dog rescue centre in Koi Samiu in Thailand for a couple of weeks – I loved it, and I hope to do some more volunteering soon.”

She said she can now volunteer for charities while still earning a wage through OnlyFansCredit: PA Real Life Meanwhile, Kaya’s online work is fully supported by her loved ones. “My family and friends are happy for me and so supportive of what I do,” she said. “I’ve been honest with them the whole time. As soon as I posted my first photo, I told them what I was doing. “And while my family would never expect anything from me, they know I’ll always look after them.” “I’ve taken my mum on countless trips, I bought my brother an electric bike and I bought my mum a new washing machine and a laptop. “My sister had a baby and when she got her own place, I put together a little moving in fund for her, so she could get everything she needed for her new home.”

Kaya’s online work is fully supported by her loved ones Credit: PA Real Life And Kaya certainly has no plans to quit her current role any time soon. “One day I want to have my own little empire,” she said. “Now everything is so much easier, I never worry about money. “Whatever I do next I’ll have to transition into, because right now the money I make is too good to give up. “This job has given me complete freedom to do what I want and, hopefully, I’ll never have to see my family struggle again. “My only regret is that I didn’t start doing this sooner.” Read the full article

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shiningamongdarkness · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 25. Things are gonna be very different

Shining among Darkness

By WingzemonX

Chapter 25 Things are gonna be very different

When Carrie said there was nothing interesting about Chamberlain, it seemed she was not exaggerating at all. According to the little that Matilda was able to investigate on the Internet, it appeared to be a fairly ordinary small city, like hundreds of others that existed in the country. Its population was low, and the main engine of the economy was the textile factory. And basically, that was all.

The trip from Boston to there was about three hours by car, and by bus, it would surely take a little longer. Matilda thought about the experience that it must have been for a girl who had never left her town to do all that tour alone. Now she was the one making the opposite journey. Two days after her interview with Carrie, on a Monday in spring, she left Boston at mid-morning with her cup of coffee and her GPS showing the northeast route.

Back then, she was still in the process of acquiring her own vehicle in Boston for her personal use. I would be possible mainly by her adoptive mother's help since almost all of Matilda's savings had gone on the move and in conditioning her department and office. In the meantime, she chose to rent one, something that she had followed on her multiple trips.

She found some congestion when she was already entering Maine due to an accident, and ended up arriving at Chamberlain around two o'clock.

The only thing Lucy had found Was the address of Carrie's house and school. Her first option was to go to school and talk to her principal. However, she really didn't have any right to do it yet, because Carrie was not officially her patient. Right now, she was more a complete stranger from another city that was coming to intervene in a subject that did not concern her. The second option was to go to her house, but she had to be careful to not overstep the line. She drove to the address Lucy had given her on Carlin Street and parked on the opposite sidewalk. The house was white, relatively simple in appearance, even somewhat run-down despite being in a moderately sophisticated neighborhood. The grass in the front yard was slightly overgrown, and in some areas, it had darkened.

Matilda waited in the vehicle for half an hour, maybe a little longer. Carrie was leaving school at three, and if what Lucy had told her was right, she hoped she could see her coming down the street at any moment without delay.

The young reddish-blonde girl appeared just as she expected after twenty-past three. She walked down the street along the sidewalk, apprehensively holding her books, with her backpack on the back and her gaze fixed on the concrete. Matilda recognized her even from a distance. Not by her face or hairstyle, but by her posture and way of walking: always fearful and self-conscious as if she feared that someone was watching and judging her at every step.

Discreetly, Matilda got out of the vehicle, crossed the street, stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house, and waited there. Carrie kept her eyes so low, or perhaps she was so immersed in her own thoughts that she didn't notice her presence until she was close. Then she stopped a few meters from her and looked at her, at first somewhat confused but soon recognized her face, and then she jumped, almost scared, so much that she leaned back a little.

"Dra. Honey?!" The girl exclaimed, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

It was evident that she was not exactly happy to see her. Matilda smiled gently, trying to muffle the mood.

"I'm sorry to appear this way, but I didn't hear from you again."

"How did you know where I live?"

"We have our sources," Matilda replied neutrally. Carrie, for her part, looked at her suspiciously; her arms tightened on her books.

"What do you want?"

"Just keep talking to you. Our talk the other day was a little inconclusive."

"Sorry, I can't talk now," Carrie said hastily and stepped forward to turn her around and head straight for the house. "My mother is about to arrive, and she shouldn't see you here. Please go away."

"Listen, Carrie," Matilda said slowly, like a professor giving a lecture. "I know that right now, you are confused and scared, and the last thing you want is that someone finds out what is happening to you. But, even if it is not with your mother, you need someone to talk and count to cope with what may happen."

Carrie stopped halfway to her door and turned slightly toward Matilda, looking at her with an expression worthy of a frightened little dog. They both looked at each other in silence for a period in which Matilda assumed she was trying to decide how to answer, and she also wanted to give her the time he needed for that. If Carrie was planning to respond something, Matilda wouldn't know because, at that moment, the front door of the house opened wide, causing them both to turn in that direction at the same time with frightened eyes, like two girls who had just be caught in mischief.

"Carrie," the woman blurted out at the door, staring at the girl. She was a tall woman with a strong complexion. Her hair was a shade quite close to Carrie's, and it was styled back and braided. Her eyes were deep, severe, and an almost unreal blue sky. She wore a completely black dress that covered her completely, from the neck to the ankles.

Matilda felt slightly intimidated by that almost ethereal presence standing in the door, which did not take long to actually put her enigmatic eyes on her. Her face was hard and cold. She only remembered meeting a person before with that intensity, almost aggression, in her eyes... and was a person with whom she did not want to cross paths again.

"Mo... mo... mom!" Carrie finally managed to exclaim, after babbling incomprehensibly for a few seconds. "What are you doing here so early...?"

The woman ignored her question entirely. She then descended the steps of the door and walked with a firm run towards them. She passed Carrie aside, stood in front of her, and faced Matilda in a challenging and contemptuous way.

"Who are you?" The woman asked severely.

"Mom, she's already..." Carrie tried to explain something to her, an intense tremor in her voice. The woman in black, however, raised her hand to her at that moment without even looking at her, forcing her to remain silent with that single gesture.

Matilda remained firm to the situation. That woman must be Margaret White. Matilda didn't know she was home. In the time she was waiting in the car, she had not seen her enter. It was not precisely her intention to meet her now, but it was also a possibility she had to face.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. White," Matilda muttered affably, holding herself in place without taking a step back or forth. "I am Dr. Matilda Honey..."

"Doctor?" Margaret repeated, sounding as if that word was stinging her. "What kind of... doctor? What do you want here?"

"I am a psychiatrist. I came to talk to your daughter..."

"For what?" She interrupted abruptly again.

Matilda looked at Mrs. White for a moment, then turned to look at Carrie's fearful face over her shoulder, who seemed to beg her with her eyes to not say anything. To Matilda, all this brought to mind a distant memory of that night when Miss Honey came to her house, and her parents did not receive her in a friendly way, nor did they pay attention to what she said. Now she was in a very similar situation. Generally, in those two years, she had to go to places where people asked for help, not so much where she had to practically interfere in this way without being invited.

She took a deep breath, stood up straight, and looked at Mrs. White firmly.

"You sure know what happened a few weeks ago in Carrie's locker room at school, right?" Matilda asked normal, and Margaret White stared blankly at her, but not surprised or confused by her words, so she supposed she indeed know. "There is even a video on the internet circulating..."

"Internet," Margaret White snapped, annoyance caught in her throat as she spoke. "That thing is the window of the Dark One. Perversions and sins, all available and at the hand of anyone with a lack of faith, to take it and exult in their rot. But the Lord is our rock, and what happens outside our home will not harm us, especially on... the Internet."

Matilda froze, not sure what to answer to a speech like that. She glanced at Carrie. She looked at the ground in absolute silence.

"Yes, of course," Matilda murmured slowly, making an effort to not sound sarcastic. However, she felt that she had not succeeded. She cleared her throat a little before continuing to speak. "Still, I think it would be a good idea for your daughter to talk to someone. This situation can be tough..."

Margaret White suddenly took a big step forward, her eyes fixed almost wide on Matilda as if she were about to jump and hang her. Then she began to scream wildly.

"No one here needs the help of charlatans alienated from God, who promises to save the body and the mind, at the cost of sacrificing the immortal soul. If my daughter needs to put herself in the hands of someone, it will be only in the hands of God! He is the real way, not supposed doctors, messengers of the Dark One without even knowing it."

Margaret looked her up then down contemptuously as if he saw something disgusting. Matilda wasn't exactly upset, but instead... perplexed. Was what she said real? What distant year did that woman come from? Matilda did not lose her cool. She breathed again through her nose, holding herself back.

"With all due respect, ma'am, but Carrie is almost an adult. She has complete freedom to choose what she believes best."

Margaret hardened her face and leaned back as if she had offended her in the worst way. She then turned a little to her daughter, leaving her in the process again entirely in Matilda's range of vision. The young girl shyly looked up at her mother, submissively.

"Carrie," the woman snapped harshly. "Do you have anything you want to discuss with this... doctor?"

Carrie hesitated. She looked at her mother, looked at the ground, and then shrugged at Matilda.

"Thank you, but I don't need your help, Dra. Honey," Carrie whispered slowly. "Only God's."

Matilda was disappointed, but not surprised. That short and almost surreal conversation gave her a slightly broader picture of what the young girl was dealing with.

"You already heard it," Mrs. White declared harshly. Then she took Carrie by the arm and started pulling her toward the house. The girl followed without much opposition. "Now, get out of my property, or I'll call the police."

Matilda stood in her place, silently watching as they entered the house and then slammed the door behind them roughly. She stood there a few seconds more, stunned, but then started walking towards the vehicle.

Carrie White's situation was much worse than she thought.

— — — —

Matilda spent the afternoon touring Chamberlain and doing a little more research about Carrie and her mother. As is common in small towns, people tend to be kind to strange visitors, but not very forthcoming when it comes to their neighbors' personal issues. Margaret White, however, seemed to have certain particular fame among some locals. They did not hesitate as much to express their opinion about her. They used different words, some more friendly, others quite the opposite. Still, the average seemed to be inclined to consider her too eccentric, too strict with her religious beliefs, even by the standards of a strongly religious person, and too introverted and lonely. She didn't use to interact with almost anyone in town except for the people with whom she worked, and in reality, she did not do much with them either. Some disparagingly described how she spent her time telling everyone that they would go to hell for anything or nothing. Also, Matilda heard about some altercations that had happened, some even that could be classified as violent.

Margaret White was quite a character, saying it in a friendly way. It was impossible not to see how her influence had fallen on Carrie, creating her personality so withdrawn and insecure. In any teenager, that would be a time bomb, but Carrie was not just any teenager; she was something else.

Matilda spent the night right there in Chamberlain at a small inn. She contacted Eleven to inform her about everything she had discovered, and she seemed genuinely puzzled. However, for better or worse, Margaret White was still Carrie's mother, and she was still a minor. There were lines that they couldn't just cross despite her abilities. Matilda knew this, but she suggested trying to make one last approach to Carrie. Even if she couldn't treat her officially or directly without her mother's permission, in a few months, when she turned eighteen, that would no longer be a problem. But it would be important for the young girl to know that when the moment came, there would be someone who would lend her a hand. Eleven agreed, though not without warning her to be careful about what she would do.

Since Carrie's house was totally inappropriate terrain, Matilda had to choose the second-best option: her school.

During one of the breaks that day, Carrie spent hours in the library, reading more books about the subject that occupied her so much and surfing the Internet for the same purpose. Once she was done there, she took three of the books, borrowed them from the librarian, and then headed to her next classroom. She cut her way through the football field, which at that time was totally alone. She was walking a little hastily, her books hugging her tightly because she was late.

"Carrie!" She suddenly heard someone exclaim loudly behind, calling her. Carrie stopped and turned around, confused. Walking along the same path she came from, Matilda Honey approached precisely.

Carrie was startled.

"What are you doing here?!" She exclaimed, almost frightened. "You can't be here!"

"Listen," Matilda began to say calmly as she approached her, "I'm sorry for went to your house like that..."

"You must be sorry!" Carrie reproached her annoyed, and then quickly turned away. "You don't know... the problems it caused me..."

When she turned, her blond hair covered almost her entire face... but not enough. Among all that sea of blond and misaligned curls, Matilda managed to distinguish her reddened cheek and the mark of a recent blow between it and her temple.

"Carrie... did your mother hurt you?"

Matilda made a gesture to want to get closer, but Carrie quickly reacted, backing away to create more distance between them. That reaction seemed quite usual for abused children she had seen in her career. Matilda decided to keep her distance and not somehow trespass her space and make her more uncomfortable than she already was.

"Sorry, I know you think I'm meddling where you don't want me, but you have to understand that I'm trying to help you. Your situation is difficult, and your ability must be controlled before it becomes stronger and more difficult. I can help you..."

"I don't need your help," Carrie interrupted sharply, turning to look at her with overwhelming aggressiveness in her gaze. That was something Matilda had also seen in abused children before. "Just... leave me alone, please."

"Carrie..."

"Go away!"

With no intention of giving her any more opportunity to respond, Carrie turned quickly and began to walk hastily. Her haste was such that her feet failed her, entangling one another and causing her to fall to her knees. Instinctively she dropped the books she brought with her to stop with her hands, and they fell to the ground below her.

Carrie wasn't saying curses out loud, but one had ricocheted off her head right now. She felt no discomfort, but rather shame. Everything went wrong; now, she couldn't even walk without humiliating herself.

She looked at her dirt-covered hands and shook them hard, perhaps more than necessary, between them. She reached out to take one of the books, but when she wanted to do the same with the second... it rose in the blink of an eye.

Carrie froze at the sight of this. What was happening? Was she doing it herself? As she questioned it, she saw how the third book also rose from the floor along with the second. She came to think for an instant that she had lost control, and now those blissful powers were beginning to activate on their own. However, at that moment, both books started to rise higher and then passed over her head. Carrie stared after them, stunned, as they gently approached Matilda's outstretched hands, placing them one above the other.

Matilda smiled and approached her with the books in her hands. She stood directly in front of her and held them out to give them to her. However, Carrie was unable to take them; she just looked at her from below, her eyes filled with confusion and fear... but also quite a lot of admiration.

"You too…?" Carrie murmured, barely audible.

— — — —

Carrie was relatively late for her class, so they were probably not even going to miss her. But also if it hadn't, Matilda's small but meaningful demonstration was enough for Carrie to agree to speak to her again, now without reservation. They went to the bleachers on one side of the field so they could sit down, be comfortable, and talk quietly. They continued totally alone during all that time, so everything was more than perfect.

As they sat there in the sixth row from bottom to top, Matilda began to tell her more about who she was, and what the Foundation she represented really was. It was a speech she had shared with several children before, and that she would even tell Samara Morgan when they first met four years later. Carrie listened attentively, word for word.

"Shining?" The blonde girl exclaimed, somewhat intrigued by the term Matilda had just used in her story.

"It is the name we use internally within the Foundation," the Psychiatrist explained. "The term comes from our founder and teacher. In my case, it started showing up when I was six years old... six and a half years old, actually. My parents…" Matilda's face turned slightly serious at the time. "They weren't perfect... or close. Although, perhaps I am very unfair to them. After all, we had a nice and clean house, and I never lacked food or clothes. They didn't yell or hit me, more than usual or necessary. In fact, I think most of the time, they preferred to pretend I didn't exist. Even so, what affected me the most is that they never understood me... not one little bit. I spent those early years feeling like a freak, caught up with people I had nothing in common with, and for whom I was little more than a hindrance."

Matilda sighed slowly, sat up straight, and tried to clear her mind a little before continuing; Carrie was still watching.

"Everything got better when I started elementary school. Almost at the same time, I started doing this." At that moment, she extended her hand to the side, and from her bag, which she had placed down between her feet, her mobile phone rose, placing itself almost between her fingers. Even though Carrie herself had done similar and even bigger things, it seemed really exciting to see someone else do it too. "It took me a while to understand it, but I did it with a little practice. Not long after, my parents had to flee the country because of my father's dirty business. I stayed in my hometown, and I was adopted by my then school teacher. She is the sweetest, most charming, and exceptional woman I have ever had the good fortune to come across. My life was much happier since then, and it also allowed me to further develop my skills. As it grew, they became stronger and stronger. I was delighted with that…" Again, a marked seriousness appeared in his face. "Until I was thirteen. I was in my last year of high school..."

"Wait... At thirteen?" Carrie questioned, believing that maybe it had been some kind of mistake. But it was not like that. Matilda smiled at her in amusement and smoothed back her hair, already a little uncomfortable with the occasional blowing wind.

"I skipped a few years," she replied naturally. "The thing is, at that time, it was as if my skills had taken an exponential leap overnight. They started shooting uncontrollably, and the more scared or worried I got, the worse it was. It was like a destructive traveling time bomb."

"Could that happen to me?" Carrie inquired with interest, although she didn't exactly sound too worried about it.

"Probably, but don't panic. When it happened to me, my mother... my adoptive mother, I mean, looked for someone who could help me. And that's when I met Eleven."

"Eleven? Like the name of the Foundation?"

Matilda laughed a little.

"Obviously, not her real name, but it's how everyone calls her. She taught me to control myself, to keep my abilities calm, and to awaken them only when necessary. She doesn't like to be called that, but she was like my teacher back then. Like my Yoda or my Obi-Wan."

Carrie stared at her at the moment, not understanding.

"From Star Wars?" Matilda added, trying to clarify her reference, but Carrie kept looking at her the same way. "Never mind. What I'm trying to say is that maybe I didn't go through a situation exactly like yours. Still, I know what it's like to suddenly have these skills, and feel the excitement, the joy, but also the fear and confusion. Eleven helped me a lot to understand what was happening to me and how to control it, and I can do the same for you, Carrie. I have helped others like you before, and… I feel something special about you. The fact that your ability has manifested itself at an already more mature age, it might seem like a disadvantage. Still, it could be the opposite at the same time with the proper routing. Especially if you have someone who can teach and guide you. If you wish, of course."

The blonde girl under her gaze, somewhat shy and thoughtful. Her curly hair fell over her face, almost hiding it entirely in that reddish-blond suitcase, and her fingers intertwined and moved nervously on the skirt of her dress.

"I would love that, you don't know how much," she murmured slowly, with a small trace of a smile on his lips. "But... I don't have much money, and neither does my mother. And even if she did, she would never support me in something like this. You already met her, she wouldn't take this well if she found out."

"I don't do this for money, Carrie," Matilda informed her gently, but that didn't cause the girl to lift her face from his new one.

Matilda was silent, analyzing the possibilities. Having her mother really seemed like a lost cause. However, she would soon be eighteen, and at that point, whatever her mother wanted or didn't want, she only went as far as Carrie could tolerate. But if she dared, the ways to help her expanded significantly.

"Tell me one thing, what will you do once you graduate?" Matilda asked curiously. "Have you already thought about a university?"

Carrie laughed a little, ironically.

"No, not really," she murmured in a muffled voice. "University is for people who have the qualifications, the money, or the sufficient support of their parents... And I don't have any of the three things." She shrugged then and smiled a little forced at her. "I was planning to stay here, maybe work with my mother, or something else. There are not many other options for me, actually."

"Perhaps there are more than you think," Matilda pointed out with some intrigue. "Would you like to work with me in my office?"

Carrie stared at her, totally stunned.

"As my assistant and receptionist," added the brunette. "I would pay you for your help, obviously. I would teach you how to use your skills, and maybe you can study something else that interests you. And perhaps eventually apply for a scholarship from the Foundation, if you work hard enough."

Carrie couldn't get out of her amazement and confusion. Her lips parted a little intending to say something, but for a few seconds, no sound came from her. It was as if it was difficult for her to process the right words.

"Do you want to hire me as your assistant?" She murmured incredulously. "But... why would you want to do that? I'm not good at almost anything, I don't even know how to use a computer. I would be more of a hindrance than a help ..."

"I think you are much smarter and brighter than you think, Carrie. Those of us who shine are usually so. And I'm not saying it out of self-centeredness." She leaned toward her slightly, not invading her personal space too much, just enough to see her in front of her eyes. "But think about this: you have never used a computer, or left your city. But when you set your mind to it, you were able to find me and reach me. Have you not thought about what other things you would be able to do if you wanted to?"

Carrie averted her gaze as if Matilda's eyes somehow intimidated her. Then she looked down at her feet, somewhat thoughtful and doubtful.

"Listen," Matilda continued in a more serious tone, "I know I am a complete stranger, who perhaps has already crossed the professional line enough with all this. You have every right to mistrust me. But, if I can be honest with you, I really think you are an exceptional person, Carrie… even if you have a mother and classmates, who don't always appreciate you right now." Carrie raised her face slightly towards her at those moments. Matilda took the opportunity to smile at her as gently as possible, just as Jennifer Honey smiled at that little girl of six years old, long time ago. "But one day, things are gonna be very different."

Carrie, perhaps unconsciously, returned the smile, just as Matilda herself surely did to her somewhat naive elementary school teacher.

"I appreciate it, Dr. Honey," replied the young woman, still somewhat shrunken. "But I don't think I can leave my mother and go to Boston. It wouldn't be... the right thing to do."

"I know it looks that way at the moment. But sooner or later, you will have to make your own decisions and decide your own path. Although for this you have to go against your mother's wishes. In a few months, you will come of age. When that time comes, you will be legally free to take the path that suits you best."

Sure, she said it easy, but it wasn't as simple as that. There were adults of much older age who still could not completely detach themselves from their parents, the younger ones have even more reason, and also the children already near the age of majority. And especially if they had a mother like Margaret White.

Either way, Matilda was convinced that she had given her plenty to think about by now, and she shouldn't weigh her down anymore. She looked at her phone, which was still in her hands after taking it out of her bag with her powers, and turned on the screen for a second to see the time.

"I think I have to go," she said suddenly, standing up from the bleachers and putting her bag on her shoulder.

Carrie looked at her from her seat, almost worried.

"Already?"

"Yes, I must return to Boston before it is done later. Why don't you give me your cell number or email? This way, we can communicate more easily, and without disturbing your mother."

"I... I don't have a cell phone... or email ..." she replied shyly.

"Sure, I thought so."

Matilda rechecked the inside of her bag and took out a few moments later, another cell phone. This one looked smaller and older than the one she used regularly and held it out to the young woman in front of her.

"Here, it's yours."

"What?" Carrie exclaimed, almost frightened when she saw the device in front of her. "No, no, I can't..."

"Of course you can, it's my emergency phone. It is old, but it works. It already has my number saved and everything."

Carrie looked apprehensively at the phone and slowly raised her hands to it, holding it between her fingers as if it were the most delicate piece of crafts in the world. She held it in front of her face and stared at herself reflected in the dark surface of the dim screen, like a mirror made of black glass.

"If you need anything, just send me a message," the brunette said, drawing her out of her fascination. "And by the way, you can just call me Matilda. Agree?"

Before Carrie answered, she started to walk toward the stairs and then carefully down the stairs. Carrie followed her with her gaze.

"I hope we can see each other soon, and it won't be until your next birthday. Think about my proposal without pressure."

"Yes, I will," Carrie exclaimed with slight force, hoping she could hear her.

Carrie kept watching it go down until she reached the field again. Once there, Matilda turned to her and said goodbye with a casual wave of her hands, which Carrie answered, although not so effusively. Matilda immediately made her way to the main building. When she was no longer in Carrie's range of vision, Carrie stared silently at the phone between her fingers. She would spend several minutes there, almost half an hour, thinking about everything that this talk meant, or could mean.

Inevitably, she had to stand up and set off so as not to miss another class. Although, at that time, the classes didn't really matter to her.

****

Four years later, in the courtyard of the Eola Psychiatric Hospital, Matilda would perfectly remember all those few, although very significant, conversations she had with that girl. She would remember her face, her voice, her trembling eyes, and her shy smile. But above all, she would remember her horrible final image, which would remain forever tattooed in her memory since that horrendous night of May 25...

At that moment, the phone she was holding in her hands began to tremble and then to ring with significant force, since she was holding it very close to her face. This alarmed her. At first, by the sudden and drastic way in which it had broken the absolute silence in which she had hovered, and then by the fact that such a phone was not supposed to even be able to be switched on. It wasn't as bad as she really thought it was? As it was, he wouldn't question it much at the time.

She took a look at the screen, and although it seemed to be a little affected because it was somewhat diffuse, she did manage to see the name of the person who was calling: Jane Wheeler, as if it were some kind of cruel joke of fate... or surely it was something quite different from destiny. She debated with herself for a few moments whether to answer or not, but in the end, the answer seemed more than obvious. No matter what, she really needed to talk to Eleven right now, and maybe that's why she was calling her.

Matilda accepted the call and placed the phone to the side of her right ear, while with the opposite hand, she clutched her aching head a little.

"Do you fix telephones remotely now?" She murmured in a tone too serious to be joking."

"You were thinking about Carrie, right?" The voice of her mentor on the other end of the line questioned her bluntly. "Cole shouldn't have told you that. I understand what he wanted to do, but he shouldn't have done it that way. I'm sorry."

Matilda laughed a little inside. At this point, no one questioned how Eleven knew anything; you always had to take it for granted that she might be seeing you right now, which could be a little scary at times.

"You're ok?" Eleven asked quietly. Matilda sighed and leaned her body forward, almost as if she wanted to hide her head between her thighs.

"No... I'm not ok," she answered in a heavy voice. "Her mother and her classmates made that girl's life hell. But I... I did something much worse to her, something much crueler..."

There was a second of silence, and then Eleven took it upon herself to finish his statement:

"You gave her hope."

Hope, that which managed to move so many, but in the end, could also make others fall so hard. Matilda took a deep breath and allowed herself to close her eyes slightly, thoughtful.

"And now, I'm doing it again with Samara..."

END OF CHAPTER 25

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

—As with Carrie, Margaret White's portrayal will be primarily based on Carrie's 2013 film version, with some aspects of Stephen King's original novel.

—For the moment, the story of Carrie and Matilda will stay here to resume the plot of the present in the next chapter. But don't worry, everything else that happened back then will be revealed in the story progresses in later chapters.

#Matilda Wormwood #matilda #carrie white #margaret white #carrie #eleven #jane eleven hopper #stranger things #shining among darkness #resplandor entre tinieblas #fanfic #wingzemonx

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darkwritingsnshit · 5 years ago

Text

It’s Been a While

Chapter 1

I’m not sure where I’m going with this. Honestly no idea.

Warnings I think? Angst I think, death mention, people being assholes, or dark characters. General bad writing.

The day you divorced Hvitserk Lothbrok was the best day of your life. You had gone as far as to get the divorce certificate framed, hung on the wall where you could see both of your signatures in the bright light of the living room. It had stayed there for a year before you removed it, filing it away carefully with your other court documents; you didn’t want to lose a single item.

Growing up you had bounced between your mother’s estate in Norway, and your father’s large residence in America. Both government workers, your mother worked for the Norwegian Embassy, your father the US Embassy. You and your brothers grew up well off, dual citizenship, a private education, expensive clothes and cars, a sprawling estate to run around on. Whenever possible, you stayed in Norway with your mother, the biting cold, beautiful oceans and reaching forests were a landscape you preferred to hot pavement, busy freeways and people rushing around, speaking too loudly, moving too fast.

Your mother was well connected, your family were close to people of influence in the government. Closest yet were the Lothbroks, who had perhaps the largest pull in the government, Ragnar was known for the mass amounts of land he owned, while assisting with international relations. Some say he had a silver tongue, others say it was his bones of steel and cold voice always laced with implications that caused people to agree to his terms. You didn’t believe these stories as a child, uncle Ragnar was a personal favorite of yours, always a smile and a twinkle in his eye, candy in his pocket that he gave only to you, not your brothers. Either way, he and his family were celebrated, and worked closely with your parents, making the Lothbrok estate as familiar as your own home, summers and family vacations were taken with Ragnar, his wife and children, the four brothers as big a nuisance as your own.

Being the only girl with six boys (your two brothers and the Lothbrok boys), meant you were frequently the butt end of their jokes and pranks. Sometimes it was a game to see who could get under your skin the fastest, it was always a tie between your brother Arne and Ivar, who knew exactly which strings to tug at to send you into a rage. Ivar was easy to catch, but if his mother was in shouting range, you would always get in trouble for beating up a cripple, while Ivar smirked, and Aslaug shouted.

Regardless, your time was spent throwing snowballs and climbing trees, Ube had taught you to fight and you learned quickly that your right hook was strong enough to break Sigurd’s nose. Some days you avoided them at all costs, and it was Hvitserk who found you in your solitude, would sit with you in silence and play with you in the mud. He was the one who would stop his brothers from taunting you when they pushed you too far, who helped you with skinned knees and picked you up when you had been knocked down by a brother, or fallen out of a tree.

Hvisterk had kissed you when you were seven on a dare, his brothers making fun of your ‘cooties’, running away and refusing to play with you because ‘girls are gross’. You wanted to play, but they were set on making you feel bad, daring each other to get close enough to push you down, yelling about cooties when one of them would lay a hand against you. When Hvitserk objected to their taunting, they dared him to kiss you. If he was sooooo in love with you, why didn’t he just kiss you and get it over with? To prove a point, he did. He pecked you on the cheek and ran away holding your hand; you two played high in the trees for the rest of the day until his brothers got bored with no one to torment, and decided your game was more fun.

When you didn’t get a date to a formal Embassy event, due in part to your brothers threatening anyone who showed an interest in you, Hvitserk showed up on your mother’s doorstep with flowers, and asked to take you himself. When he brought you back home, he kissed you under the stars, and whispered his goodnight before leaving.

The day of the plane crash had been the worst day of your life, it shattered your entire world and left you in pieces. Staying in Norway for a few weeks to finish school, you were between your mother’s estate and the Lothbroks. Aslaug had become a second mother, always making sure you were happy, fed, doing well in school, keeping track of your whereabouts. Should you want to stay while your parents went to the US on business, you would stay with her and her family, they were as close, or closer than your own brothers.

At fourteen, you and Hvitserk had started seeing each other, a harmless teenage relationship, Aslaug thought it was sweet, her boy and her adopted daughter had always gotten along best, it was cute to see them smitten with each other, even at a young age. The two of you would steal quick kisses, a half-drunk bottle of wine or swipe a cigarette and sneak away to the garden or the woods, playing at being grown up.

You were fifteen, you had two weeks of school before you would join the rest of your family for a couple months in America. Your mother father and brother had departed in the morning for their US residence, where Arne was staying. He had always preferred America, and stayed the schoolyear in sunny California, claiming he hated the dark Norwegian winters, though you thought it was because he didn’t want to work so closely with the government, a career path he showed no interest in.

There was no call, you saw it on the morning news as you were getting ready to leave for school. Walking through the living room to say goodbye to Aslaug and Ragnar, she held out her hand for you, stalk still, watching the scene unfold across the screen. There was smoke and flames that were bright and dark at the same time, a plane spiraling out of control.

“Norwegian aircraft, Boeing MAX 737, suffered major electrical failure, before a fire started in not one, but two of the engines. Unable to stop the flames mid-flight, the aircraft crashed into the ocean, with no flotation devices inflated. In a matter of minutes, the plane containing 230 passengers, including government officials, went down in the Atlantic. More updates to follow, as the wreckage site gets investigated.” The footage cut to the weather without another word, you were rooted to the spot.

Aslaug drew you into her arms, Ragnar had pulled out his phone and was making calls.

“What happened, what does this mean?” Had there been any survivors, was your family alive? What did this mean for you, for your brother Arne? Were you an orphan now, did you have any family left? Aslaug looked at you closely.

“I promise, we will figure this out, I promise you that my daughter,” she didn’t let you out of sight for the rest of the day.

There were two funerals, one in Norway, one in the US. The funerals were the easiest part, as you would come to find out. Both your mother and father had been quite well off, they had large estates, property and offshore bank accounts, charities and trusts, retirement plans and private holdings, all left behind in a complicated will full of contingencies and confusing clauses. You were fifteen, your brother a few years older, finishing out high school in America, neither of you experts in legalities or even government documents, let alone the matters of how to take care of citizenships and oversea holdings. That’s when things began to go south.

You were young and dumb, your brother liked to remind you, young and dumb enough for someone to take advantage of you, which is exactly what Aslaug did. You always had a bitter reply, he had been no help to you, retreating back to America and leaving you to deal with the greater legalities that arose from your parents’ wills. Ragnar and Aslaug didn’t let you alone for a single moment. The days after their death, Aslaug had moved you from your mother’s estate into theirs, always telling you that she would take care of you, she would take care of everything if you let her. Everything was overbearing, there was too much to do, too much that you didn’t understand, on top of your education to finish.

The month after their death dragged on so much you were sure it had been more than thirty days. While the Lothbrok boys backed off on their jabs and taunting, it was with Hvitserk you were able to find comfort, he held you while you cried, listened to you as you ranted, always urging you to get help from his mother. It was difficult for her to help, Aslaug said, as the two of you were not legally related. As she explained, she was not your mother, she had no right to sign the documents and could only guide you through the stacks of paperwork to file and fill.

You almost didn’t finish school; you spent all your time either alone or pouring over paperwork that was a constant reminder of the death of your family. Nearly a year had dragged on since then, your brother was rarely in contact, he assured you he was managing what was left to him, and your father’s estate, that there was no reason for him to come back to Norway, there was little reason for him to talk to you at all. Sitting in her office, you finally broke down into tears and wept to Aslaug.

“You sign the papers, please, please just finish this for me Aslaug. I’m so tired of this, I don’t understand it and it’s overwhelming.” Your head went down on the desk, tears of stress, frustration and sadness overtook you. Aslaug patted your hand in comfort.

“Sweet girl, you know I can’t. Not legally, not unless… no, I can’t.” Your head perked from her desk.

“Unless what?” You would sign over whatever rights you had to if this burden would be lifted from your shoulders.

Aslaug looked deep in thought, weighing words in her head, you could see the gears turning.

“You love Hvitserk, I know you do.” She said. You were confused by her statement, but it was true. “You two have always had such a beautiful relationship, since you were children and he protected you from danger, I believe you’ve always loved him, am I right?” You nodded your head, unsure where she was going with this.

“You are young, yes, but your sixteenth birthday is very soon,” she continued. “You’ve always been a daughter to me, a part of our family. I think it may be a good time to make that official, make you my daughter and become a Lothbrok.”

You were still confused, was she hinting at adoption? If that’s what it took, she was already a mother to you, the boys close as brothers, uncle Ragnar a welcome presence in your life. You weren’t sure what it had to do with Hvitserk though.

“You want to adopt me?” You questioned, but Aslaug shook her head.

“No,” she said, “no, that process takes a long time, and most children over sixteen are simply emancipated if they have the means you do. What I am talking about, is marriage.”

It took you by surprise, it was not what you were expecting. Aslaug was fiercely protective of her boys, you and Ube had joked that she would never let them marry, as she didn’t believe they would find someone worthy of them. Why should she be interested in this now, especially when you were so young?

“Marriage?” you repeated as a question.

“Marriage,” she said with a nod, “a marriage to Hvitserk.”

“I’m very young,” you replied, not sold on the idea.

“Who else have you loved besides my sweet son Hvitserk? Who else have you cared for through your life, has cared for you in the same way? Who else has been there to wipe your tears, to sit with you through pain, to make you laugh and make you feel at home?” Aslaug questioned you.

You shook your head. No one was coming to mind, the other brothers had been around, but not like Hvitserk, they didn’t care for you in the same way. Mostly on rather than off, you and Hvitserk had been seeing each other for nearly two years, being sixteen you thought that he was the love of your life, he was your end all be all. He was the first person you loved, first kiss, first date, first and only everything. As a young teenager, you thought that was enough.

“And that would settle everything?” you asked, cautious.

“Of course it would, I would legally be your mother, and would be allowed to make your legal decisions, in your best interest of course.” She assured you. It seemed like an easy fix.

“What does Hvitserk have to say about this?” You asked.

“He already has a ring, my sweet daughter.” Aslaug’s eyes were bright, assuring.

You were young, and dumb; you believed her. Within the month, you had made the biggest mistake of your life.

#hvitserk lothbrok #dark!hvitserk lothbrok #my writing

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