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charlottesbookclub · 4 months ago

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i'm here (ser gwayne hightower x reader) 💚💚

Summary: you have a nightmare, but gwayne is there to comfort you 💚

Warnings/Tags: spouse!reader; gn!reader; established relationship (marriage); nightmares; angst/anxiety brought on by the nightmares; absolutely catastrophic levels of tooth-rotting fluff; let me know if I've missed anything! ☺️

Words: 2870

Author’s Note: as I mentioned in this post, gwayne hightower has absolutely consumed my life and I am down sooooooo bad for him rn, so voilá, this fic has emerged as a result of that! 💕 as I also say in that linked post, I'm not super familiar with hotd, so I'm sorry if any of the terms I use aren't canon-accurate (I watched game of thrones a few years ago and I tried my best to make it feel authentic to the world of canon, but something may have slipped through 😅). and I hope this feels in-character to gwayne! I've rewatched the scenes of his that I have access to many times for...... uhh ~Research Purposes~ but I haven't seen all his scenes yet, so I apologize if it feels ooc at all – I did my best to make it feel like him! 🥰

oh and this is key: we've all seen the necklace, right?? we know about the necklace, right????? that fucking necklace makes me absolutely feral so I've given it a backstory, because it truly has me foaming at the fucking mouth 😌 (also, if you haven't seen the necklace, may I please direct you to this incredible gifset so we can descend into madness over it together?)

as always, I hope you enjoy!! 🥰🥰 (also please feel free to share any gwayne thoughts you have – I'd love to scream about the precious man with y'all! ☺️💕)

The memory was not yours, but in this moment, it felt like it was. Gwayne had only told you the story once, with hushed words and averted eyes. You had asked, and he could never find it in himself to keep anything from you, even if it made his chest seize with shame. He told you that the whole ordeal had been a result of foolishness on his part, something he would admit only to you. He said that he recalled the memory with great embarrassment now. But you felt nothing but terror.

You stood on a large, grassy plain ringed with trees, a few wispy clouds scuddling across the blue sky above you. This was a place you had never seen, never been – but one thing was familiar. As you struggled to gain your bearings in the strange location, you saw a group of men on horseback just a short distance ahead. You recognized your lord husband instantly: the delicate silver interlace of his steed’s armor and the auburn glow of his hair in the sunlight were as familiar to you as your own heartbeat.

You called out to him, but he didn’t respond; he seemed to be in conversation with one of the other men. You ran toward the small group and cried his name again, but even at close range he appeared not to hear you. Panic grew in your chest by the moment as you hurried closer still, coming near enough that you could almost reach out and touch Gwayne’s mount. You stretched out your hand to do just that when your arm was stopped by some invisible force. There was nothing in front of you, just empty air that you should have been able to move through with no difficulty. But you were trapped mere feet from your beloved, unable to reach him.

Something was terribly wrong. You screamed his name this time, desperation compressing your lungs with the force of your yell. But it was clear that he could not hear you, since neither he nor any of the gathered men so much as turned toward the sound of your cries. Real fear gripped you now, shooting ice through your veins as you cast about you for something – anything – that you could do. And that was when a new kind of fear crept over you, one so old and visceral you could feel it down to your very bones. Shudders wracked your body as you turned your eyes toward the sky, suddenly certain that you were being watched. But not just watched – no, you were being hunted.

At a loss for what else you could do, you renewed your efforts to alert Gwayne to the danger that you could feel but not yet see. You screamed until your voice was hoarse, but you were forced to watch in horror as Gwayne continued his conversation as though nothing was wrong, even flashing that charming smile that you knew and loved so well. It was just then that the other man finally noticed that something was wrong. He cast his eyes toward the sky as you had mere moments before, saying something to the gathered men. A wave of fear seemed to run through the horses, as there was a flurry of shifting hooves and nervous snorts. You could only watch in terror as realization washed over Gwayne’s face, twisting his handsome features into a terrifying expression of horror.

You screamed at him to run just as everything burst into motion, the horses tearing off across the plain toward the cover of the trees. You found yourself moving along with them, though you had no mount of your own. Instead, it was the same terrible invisible force, dragging you along, forcing you to watch as the scene unfolded before you.

And then you saw it: the dragon. It swooped down from the sky as though it had erupted into existence from nothing, filling the empty air with huge grey wings that seemed to blot out the sun. You screamed again, but this time without the intention of forming any coherent words – the noise that escaped your throat was an expression of the fear that was buried deep in your bones upon the sight of the creature. Its lean body shot across the plain toward the fleeing men with a kind of focus and intention that proved what you had thought from the beginning: the dragon was hunting. And worse than that, it was hunting Gwayne.

Voice rubbed raw from screaming, and realizing your cries to him did nothing anyway, you watched in terrible silence as his steed thundered across the ground, its legs eating up the distance as fast as it could. And yet the dragon gained. If this was some cruel trick played by the gods, you couldn’t think what you could possibly have done to deserve this kind of torment. You could do nothing but watch, utterly powerless, as Gwayne – your Gwayne – fled for his life, his beautiful face contorted into an expression of fear that cut you to the core like a knife to the stomach. You held your breath, fearing each moment would be the one when you were forced to watch your love be consumed by dragonfire, ending both his life and yours in one swift blow of unimaginable anguish and heartbreak from which you knew you would never recover. Just as you had resolved to try calling to him one last time – if nothing else, to assure him of your love – the treeline broke around you and the horses cantered to a stop beneath the cover of the forest.

The world was still again, but the fear lingered. You could sense the dragon above you, even hear its thin, unearthly cries as it searched for its hidden quarry. Your eyes instantly found Gwayne, needing to make sure he had survived the ordeal. Indeed, he still sat upon his steed, and you watched his chest heave as he attempted to steady his breathing. The fear that still permeated the forest remained etched on his face as well, changing his features from those of the man you had courted and married to those of a young boy, trembling and horror-struck and so helpless and small.

You longed with every fiber of your being to run up to him and pull him into your arms, to feel his warm breath on your neck as he folded into your embrace. You ached to hold his face in your hands and wipe away the single lingering tear he likely didn’t even know was still glistening on his cheek. You yearned to kiss the terror away from his brow and his nose and his lips, to tell him he was safe – to tell him that you were here.

But you were trapped just feet from him, all these longings locked into your body as you pressed toward him as far as the strange invisible barrier would allow. You watched as the fear slowly faded from his face, his features once again becoming warm and familiar. You couldn’t help but smile as he seemed to return to himself somewhat. Turning to one of his companions, he opened his mouth to say something when both of their eyes snapped up to the sky, reacting to some sound you must not have heard. You followed their gaze, and didn’t even have a chance to scream as a column of fire descended from above, ready to devour you all.

You woke with a gasp. Your heart was pounding loudly enough that you could hear it in your ears, and you pushed yourself up into a sitting position as you struggled to calm your ragged breathing. The darkness in the room was soft, and your eyes adjusted slowly to your surroundings, only to find them all comforting and familiar – this was your room, your home. Instantly, you turned to your side, and let out a small sigh of relief when you saw Gwayne sleeping peacefully next to you. He was here, he was home, he was safe – you both were.

When your breathing had calmed back to a normal rate, you eased yourself back down under the covers, burrowing into his arms as he sleepily adjusted his position to accommodate you.

“Hmmm—is everything… alright?” he muttered, blinking his eyes open.

“Everything’s fine,” you assured him, “I just had a nightmare.”

He seemed to waken a little more at your words, propping himself up slightly on one arm as he reached the other hand out to stroke your cheek.

“Are you alright? Do you want to talk about it?” his voice was still thick with sleep, but you knew the questions were genuine.

“It was about you,” you reached up to cup his hand that still rested on your cheek, intertwining his fingers with yours. “And the dragon,” you added, your words barely above a whisper. Hearing his sharp intake of breath, you were certain he was reliving the memory himself, and instantly regretted your words.

“But it was nothing,” you hurried to assure him, “I just—I just wish I had been there. Or that I could have helped or—” you were distinctly aware that your jumbled words made very little sense, even to you. “I just felt so helpless,” you ended with a sigh. Gwayne watched you with soft eyes, his fingers squeezing yours in reassurance.

“You were there, though,” he responded, smiling gently, “and you did help.” You just stared at him incredulously, wondering if he was the one who was dreaming now. He read the question in your eyes with a small chuckle and disentangled his hand from yours, pushing himself up to sit.

Pressing a hand to his chest, his fingers found the chain of the necklace that he always wore. The charm was a delicate circle of beaten metal hanging from a simple coppery chain. You had bought it in the market one day when the two of you were still courting. The rich auburn sheen of the metal had reminded you of Gwayne’s hair, and you were determined to have it. The seller assured you that the little ring symbolized unending love and devotion – a never-ending cycle, an unbroken vow. You were doubtful that had been the original intention of the maker, but rather a ploy on the seller’s part to drive up the price after he realized you intended it as a gift for your beloved. Had it been that obvious how love-struck you were?

Regardless of whether it was intended or not, you liked the idea of the simple circle as a token of promise and loyalty, as well as a celebration of one of Gwayne’s most striking features. You had given it to him wrapped in a carefully-embroidered handkerchief when he had gallantly asked for your favor before a tourney. You cherished the memory of him asking you to help him put it on, and the fleeting touch of his skin and flaming hair you were able to steal as you clasped it around his neck. He won the tourney, and insisted that his victory was due at least in part to the precious charm you had given him, imbued with your affection and devotion. To your knowledge, he had never taken it off since.

Now, in the dim light of your shared chambers, he held the little ring out for you to see. It was slightly more battered now than it had been, and though its original shine was gone, it still seemed to glow with a warm coppery light. Reaching out, you took the small circle in your fingers, feeling all the tiny knicks and ridges it had acquired over time, each one of them proof of Gwayne’s promise to always return to you – an unbroken vow.

“See, you’re always with me, right here,” he gestured to the charm in your fingers. The feeling of the metal against your skin and the sweet memories that swirled through your mind caused tears to prick at the corners of your eyes, chasing away the lingering cobwebs of fear that the nightmare had spun. Gently, you released the ring and Gwayne’s fingers replaced yours on the circle, guiding it back to where it always sat on his chest, just above his heart. He pressed it there, emphasizing his words: “right here, right where you always have been – and always will be.”

Ducking your head away, you tried to hide the tears that were now threatening to slide down your cheeks as his words. But before you could wipe them on the sheets, Gwayne’s hand caught your chin, gently pulling him back to you, the rough pad of his thumb banishing the tears from your face. His eyes sparkled with affection and mirth, and you found yourself unable to stop yourself from echoing his smile.

“Hmmm… it’s more serious than I thought,” he said with mock-concern, tilting your face as though he was examining it, “you appear to be desperately and madly in love with me – a very serious condition indeed.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that spilled out of your mouth as you nudged him playfully, causing him to break into bright chuckles of his own. Your chest, which just moments ago had been compressed with terror, was now so full of love and happiness you were certain it might burst.

“And tell me, Ser Gwayne, what is the cure for this most dire of conditions?” you matched his tone of feigned worry as your laughter subsided.

“Hmmm,” he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, unable to hide the dimples forming on his cheeks, proof of his barely-suppressed smile, “perhaps marriage? I have heard many esteemed lords claim that the institution of matrimony is bound to cure an ailment such as yours.”

“Oh, but I fear I’ve tried that,” you exclaimed, “and it has only made my condition worse.”

“Then this is indeed one of the most serious cases I’ve ever seen.” He pondered for a moment, then his eyes lit up: “There is one more cure, but it’s risky. You could try true love’s kiss. One does read about those sorts of things working miracles after all.”

“What’s the risk?”

“The risk is that the kiss renders your condition utterly uncurable by any other means.” Gwayne’s lips tilted up into your favorite lopsided smile as he grinned at you, dimples glowing like twin suns, sending the delicate freckles on his face colliding into each other like falling stars.

“That’s a risk I’m more than willing to take,” you breathed as he reached out to cup your face and bring it close to his. You closed your eyes as your lips met in a burst of warm sunlight that seemed to fill your whole body with its radiance. You weren’t sure how long you remained pressed against him, feeling his heartbeat against your skin, his auburn locks twisted in your fingers, his necklace hanging between your entwined forms.

“Did it work?” he whispered when he finally pulled away, his forehead still resting against yours.

“No,” you responded happily, your fingers once again finding the thin metal of the little circular charm, “I fear I’m even more madly and desperately in love with you than before.” You met his eyes, finding them bright and soft and just as madly and desperately in love as you were certain yours were.

“Well, I like to think of myself as chivalrous, but I don’t think I can find it in myself to regret your condition,” he whispered, a teasing smile on his face as he reached a hand up to run his fingers through your hair.

“Nor can I,” you whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He pulled you fully into his grasp then, maneuvering you both back under the covers without relinquishing his hold on you. You rested on his chest, head tucked under his chin as he wrapped both arms around you. Your fingers found his necklace, and you clasped it in your hand. He echoed your motion until both of your hands were intertwined around the metal circle, resting just above his heart. You could feel it beating against your skin, and you snuggled yourself even closer to him.

“This is what I imagine,” Gwayne said softly to the darkness, “when I’m on the road without you, and all I have is this small charm to remind me of what it feels like to rest in your embrace. This is what I dream of.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and squeezed your hand where it entwined with his on the necklace. “You’re always right here.”

“I’m always right here,” you echo, your words a promise, a vow.

“But thank the gods I don’t have to imagine right now,” you felt his words as his lips moved against your forehead, “because I am right here.” Gwayne wrapped his arms even more tightly around you, and you gladly tucked yourself further into his warm embrace. You felt yourself drifting back into a pleasant sleep in the comfort and safety of his arms. You heard his words echo softly in the gentle quiet of the room:

“I’m right here.”

#charlotte writes #ser gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #ser gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower fanfic #gwayne hightower fanfiction #gwayne hightower imagine

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menofsweaters · 4 months ago

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okay so

y'all seemed unusually chill about my last Endeavor rant, and that has lulled me into a false sense of security. General disclaimer that everyone is allowed to engage with media however they want and no one is ever obligated to like/appreciate/forgive/whatever any character and this is all fictional barbie doll playtime so who cares -

BUT

Whenever I see a lot of anti-Endeavor rants, it just screams to me that the person posting has maybe not fully internalized the idea that parents (and adult figureheads in general) are human beings who are quite fallible and capable of making terrible mistakes just like everyone else.

Most people who abuse and neglect children do not realize that they're abusing and neglecting them. I know this is a tough pill to swallow.

Heck, most people who abuse other people in general do not realize they're causing harm. We as human beings generally like to see ourselves as the main character - as a person who's making the correct choices, who knows best, who's out for the greater good.

When parents and guardians abuse and neglect their children, they're generally not thinking "I want to hurt a child," they're thinking that they need to teach the child discipline, or that the child is ungrateful, or that they're somehow doing what's right for the child and the family even if it's hurtful at the time. Or, perhaps at the same time, they're not examining their actions at all, due to lack of understanding, mental health issues, addiction, etc. Makes me think of that post that circulated about how "child abuse is inherently irrational" because YEAH. IT IS IRRATIONAL.

This all very much tracks for Endeavor, who married Rei and started having children when he was quite young, and by all accounts did not have anyone in his life to offer a good example of what a healthy, loving family looks like. We also see his descent into emotional disturbance pretty starkly when you look at the memories of Touya and Fuyumi when they're very young versus the at height of his abuse. We also don't see any other heroes of Endeavor's age who are parents in canon.

Endeavor's thoughts were always "I need to protect Touya from hurting himself, and the best way to do that is by distancing myself so he stops wanting to be a hero" and "I need to train Shouto to be as strong as possible so that he can surpass both me and All Might and become a great hero." Both of these are selfish and short-sighted to some extent, but they're not sociopathic.

He was never thinking, "I want to hurt my children and my wife." No one thinks that way. That's some family annihilator thinking, and there's no indication that Endeavor thinks this way. Very, very few people are that cartoonishly villainous in real life, and Horikoshi has made a point of showing that Endeavor is multifaceted. He only recognized his own shortcomings with his family when he was older and saw the consequences. Would it have been better if he realized these things earlier (and maybe got some damn therapy)? Yeah, of course! That would have been way better!!

Anyway, I think the point that I'm trying to make is that people seem to have this assumption that Endeavor KNEW what he was doing was wrong and did it anyway, when that's simply not what's shown in the canon and also is not realistic in terms of actual bad parenting.

Not to get too deep on main or whatever, but as a survivor (ugh) of childhood abuse, and someone who's dealt with abusive partners as an adult, letting go of the idea that abusers are fully aware of what they're doing and are purposeful with the harm that they do was a HUGE hurdle for me to overcome, but it made my life way better to accept that people are just selfish idiots who have no idea what they're doing in most cases. This doesn't mean that abusers are innocent in any way, or that they can't be held accountable for their actions, or that you have to forgive blah blah blah, but I really genuinely encourage people to reexamine the idea that abuse is always purposeful because it very much is not.

Thanks for coming to my rant, no tags because I don't want to get harassed by teenagers. This is just me spitting out my internal thoughts on the internet and I have no desire to engage in arguments about it.

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

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Okay, y'all. Time to do this one more time. Let the fact that there are so many of these posts right now reinforce the point. Many of you already know this, and I see and love you, but for anyone still ~undecided about their choice, should they be an American citizen of voting age on November 3, 2020:

Time to not be. It was time a long, long while ago, but I am going to have to say it again.

Primary season is over. The endless fine-tooth combing of candidates' policies and positions is over. We are all deeply well aware that the candidates on the Democratic ticket, being human beings and establishment politicians, are flawed. "BUT WHAT ABOUT THIS POSITION FROM 19/ 20-WHENEVER AS JUSTIFICATION FOR WHY IT'S TERRIBLE TO VOTE FOR -- "

No. Stop. Just stop. Stop threatening to hold the rest of us hostage, in the middle of a pandemic, the Great Depression, and racial inequality and protests on a scale not seen from the 1960s, because you did not get Barbie Dream Candidate. That is the behavior of terrorists and toddlers. If your supposedly enlightened morally pure ideology does not involve any action to mitigate the harm that is directly in front of you, it isn't worth a shit as an ideology actually devoted to helping people. If your approach to politics is to shout about how Pure your ideas are on twitter and tear down anyone working within a system of flawed choices to do the good that they can: you're not helping, and frankly, your constant threats to withhold your suffrage as a punishment to us aren't convincing the rest of us that we really need to listen to you or that you have anyone's best interests at heart. The Online Left TM is as much a vacuous, self-reinforcing noise chamber as the Online Right TM, and can sometimes tend to be even more dangerous.

I was saying this in 2016. A lot of us were saying this in 2016. I am just about to turn 32 years old and have been voting in federal elections for almost 15 years. For what it's worth.

This is not an ordinary election. This is not a contest between two flawed candidates who respect the system and want to work to enact their policies in the ordinary way. One is a flawed 90s era Democrat who nonetheless has already been pushed CONSIDERABLY left in his policies and platforms since the end of the primaries (and his existing platform would already make him the most left president elected, even more than Obama). The other is a fascist dictator who has openly spoken about refusing to accept the election results, his desire to abolish term limits and serve for life, and complete the pillaging of any remaining fragile American public funds for him and his cult of cronies. He does not respect the system. He does not want to do anything for anyone that is not himself. 160,000 and counting needless deaths of American citizens have already happened. Will keep happening.

This is the last time Trump has to face voters. This is the last chance the country has to repudiate his entire poisonous ideology and its marching Nazi minions. IF he steps aside, which is already far from guaranteed, he can ride off into the sunset as a vindicated two term president and probably be rehabilitated like George W. Bush was within a few years of leaving office. American political memory is very short. It will happen. Again, if he even leaves.

RBG is 87 and has cancer again. She will NOT survive another four years. Stephen Breyer is 81. Their seats could both come up in the next four years. The Supreme Court could be a right wing rubber stamp for whatever time we all have left before climate change and coronavirus kill us all.

"But if people just thought for themselves and did their homework and didn't vote the party line like sheep, we could support a third party/write in -- " Stop. Just stop. Attend a ninth grade civics class and learn about how politics work in America. Yes, the two-party system sucks. Yes, the Electoral College is a hot steaming pile of absolute bullshit. Magical unicorn fairy dust fantasies WILL NOT change that.

Do not vote for Kanye (who has pretty much openly admitted he is trying to play spoiler to Biden on behalf of his buddy Trump). Do not vote for godforsaken fucking Gary Johnson or Jill Stein who appear on ballots just to give sanctimonious leftists the illusion of virtue-signaling. If you want any chance of fixing the mess that 2020 has left America and the world in, you need to vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. The end.

Biden is a flawed old man who was our last choice, sure. He is also a distinguished public servant who has already been in the White House for eight years under Obama and thus we KNOW what to expect. He is an empathetic man who connects with people's personal tragedy and picked as his running mate a younger Black/biracial woman who directly confronted and called him out on past behavior. While the pundit class was simpering and whining about how it was Disrespectful and how could he consider her, Biden did so, and that speaks well to me of the fact that he is willing to learn, to take criticism, and not just accept it from a former Black female rival, but make her his second in command and the potential first female president of the United States.

Can you EVER picture Trump doing that? Not in eight thousand million years.

As for Kamala, we are all aware of her previous checkered history as a prosecutor (and even then, she did plenty of good things as well!). Since joining the Senate, however, she has consistently become one of its most progressive members. She is the co-sponsor of an economic aid package designed to give every American $2,000/month, backdated to March (the start of the coronavirus pandemic) and continuing at least a few months after its end. A Biden-Harris White House could make that happen. Especially if they are put into office with a Democratic House and Senate (for the love of God, Kentucky, kill Mitch McConnell with fire). That is just one example.

Harris's nomination is obviously historic. And Biden didn't choose another Biden (or another Tim Kaine, the blandest white man imaginable). He chose another Obama: a younger rising star of an immigrant background, a person of color, a former lawyer and someone who represents the diversity of the country that the white supremacists and the Cheeto in Chief have tried to paint as its worst and most degenerate evil.

A vote for Biden and Harris means getting rid not just of Trump, but Mike Pence, Vladimir Putin, Jared Kushner, Betsy Devos, the Trump crony destroying the Postal Service, the rampant coronavirus misinformation and bullshit, the destruction of Social Security and Medicare, the spread of Nazi propaganda from the President's twitter account, the likely two Supreme Court picks that would be as bad as Brett Kavanaugh or worse... on and on. Biden and Harris would be elected by progressive voters and thus answerable to them in 2022 midterms and 2024 general. They can both be, and already have been, pushed further left. They are reasonable and competent adults who have demonstrated experience and compassion. I KNOW about their flaws and past actions I don't agree with. But I'm frankly done with any more counterproductive straw man bitching about This One Bad Thing They Did and how it makes it a terribad awful choice to vote for them. Open your eyes. Look at the alternative. LOOK AT WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED AND THE FACT THAT THIS IS NOT EVEN AS BAD AS IT COULD STILL GET.

Check your registration or register at vote.gov.

DO NOT LOOK AT POLLS AND DECIDE "EH BIDEN IS CLEARLY GOING TO WIN, I DON'T NEED TO VOTE." THAT IS HOW WE LOST LAST TIME.

Unseating incumbents is HARD. It is even harder when the other side has openly laid out their plan to cheat in great detail, and there is nothing really stopping them from doing it. The only thing, in fact, is massive, unfalsifiable results on an undeniable scale.

So:

Vote.

Vote for Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.

Thanks a lot.

#hilary for ts #politics for ts #rant #long post #i will be reblogging this periodically as election day nears #haters/trolls will be blocked out of hand

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sam-roulette · 4 years ago

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your personalityswap is kind of brilliant ?? i went into it thinking it'd just be straight crack, but the amount of care and nuance put into everything really blew me away. how exactly did y'all come up with whose personalities swapped with whose?

thank you anon !!! It takes us a little longer to get chapters of the personalityswap fic together than the other aus, but its always a Lot Of Fun!!

As for how we ended up coming to this, the short answer is that in April 2020 one of the Sams said he was surprised he hadn’t seen a personalityswap tma fic yet and that Leitners are basically a fanfic trope magnet, specifically Spiral Leitners for crackfics. Said Sam gave the first swap with the words “give Martin Elias’s personality and let the chaos ensue” and then Not-Sam responded with “Elias is gonna have a Time after suddenly growing a Tim-sized conscience” and the rest is history!

The long answer is under the cut but tl;dr : we built the au off of the concept of unleashing two “stable” personality swaps (Jon with Martin’s personality and Tim with Jon’s personality) and two “unstable” swaps (Elias with Tim’s personality and Martin with Elias’s personality), and going from there.

So why are the former two swaps stable and sustainable while the latter two are set to implode on themselves? To really explain, you’ve gotta get into the fact that in all honesty, lived experience shapes much of your personality, and some personalities are more conducive to some backstories than others.

Jon!Tim: Since he’s possibly the most stable out of all the swaps, let’s start with this little quiz.

A man’s first brush with the supernatural ends with them frozen in fear, watching helplessly as someone else is killed in their place by forces far beyond their control. Said man feels immense guilt over not having been able to do something about it, and that guilt translates into a terrible need for answers. Said man ends up working for the Magnus Institute research department, wherein they meet others who share their immensely intensive research ethic. Said man is transferred to the Archives later on, and from there, his life becomes an unending series of tragedies which lead him to facing down the very Entity that ruined his life and the lives of all those he loved in his eleventh hour.

Am I talking about Tim or Jon?

Trick question. I’m talking about both. Which is why Tim having Jon’s personality is possibly the most stable swap of the batch. Their backstories are already so similar that a lot of the core basis of what makes Tim himself- the base lived experience, the memories which will always stick around regardless of the rest of the personality- doesn’t necessarily reject Jon’s stuffiness or drive to find answers, even at the cost of all his relationships. ESPECIALLY since this is Tim in season 3, leaving him at his most isolated, his most angry, and his most driven to find the Circus.

His circumstances in s3 are remarkably similar to Jon’s in s2, with the added “bonus” that no one’s trying to really reach out to him- no one but Jon, that is. Jon, who before this moment has given Tim the least amount of reason why he should be trusted, after s2′s paranoid breakdown. This brings us to

Martin!Jon: He’s adorable! He’s a bit of a mess! But he’s trying his best to reach out to everyone, especially since he knows how horribly he’s cocked everything up last season.

The thing about Jon and Martin’s personalities is that they both are actually pretty similar in a lot of ways, even back in s3- both can have their moments of pure stubbornness and can get a bit mean, but ultimately they are both people who are trying to be good. s3 Jon is already a Jon that, to start with, wants to trust people- he wants to make the active choice to trust the people around him, even when his every instinct is screaming to buckle down and back away. It’s that lived experience that gels neatly into Martin’s desire to actively be kind to people, even when he doesn’t feel that it is inherent to himself.

And, the fact of the matter is, Jon’s backstory isn’t at all incompatible with Martin’s personality- it’s just that, to nail the nuance of the swap, we have to think about Martin!Jon as having not just canon-Martin’s personality. We have to think about it in terms of, what would Martin’s personality look like if Martin had grown up in Jon’s familial situation instead? If Martin had been allowed to finish high school and go to uni and, even if he felt his mum resented him, had a mum that still tried to care for him?

So Martin!Jon is even a little softer than Martin himself, a little more in tune with the people around him. There’s times where he’s more confident, where he can speak up and make it known that he’s still got some useful skills, and where he also doesn’t mind showing moments of vulnerability. Sure his default mode is still to bottle up the Really Bad emotions, but in his day to day? this is a Jon who’s more expressive than both the Original Jon and Original Martin

Which of course brings us to one of the more unstable elements in this fic

Elias!Martin: This guy. This motherfucker. At first the swap seems a benefit.

He’s now more confident! He’s more ambitious! He’s ready to organize, to strategize, to work together with others to reach his goals! He’s no longer taking anyone’s shit, even when it’s joking, and he’s able to enact mind games with Elias Bouchard himself.

But, under the surface, there’s a contradiction.

The contradiction is evident in this simple fact: Elias Bouchard, Jonah Magnus, has the personality of an obscenely rich Victorian who gets everything he wants no matter what. Martin Blackwood almost never gets what he wants.

Martin’s backstory is wholly incongruent with Elias’s personality. Martin has spent his entire life giving away almost everything that makes him happy. He gives up school and his childhood for his mother to try and fulfill his duty as a son, trying to sympathize with her and believe that she might yet love him. He gives up his sense of self-worth, deciding that living as an impostor for the rest of his life is a risk he needs to take to survive. He gives up his heart to Jon while believing that he’ll never have it in return.

Elias’s personality, on the other hand, is a personality that is tailor-made to take and take until nothing else is left. It’s something that clashes with the core of Martin’s character, and that clash is going to continue the longer the personality sets in, as Martin desperately holds onto his core desires.

Even if it means he has to think about it as if he’s merely protecting what’s rightfully his with Elias’s personality in his head, the end result is the same- he wants to protect everyone in the Archives. Even if that means he takes from the rest of the world, even if it means he himself is slowly worn thin, it doesn’t matter.

Even now, he just needs them to be safe, and he just needs to survive.

#tma #ias #in another's shoes #personalityswap #i guess this also counts as meta? whoops jvhbkj lol

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cameron-artist · 4 years ago

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Ok, so I heard anxiety can cause memory problems, which I think I've heard before. But like, that would help explain my poor memory. Well that and the fact my working* memory (like the super short term that people use to hold and manipulate small things, like a word or a 2/3 digit number) is terrible.

*this may not be the right term for this kind of memory. But the memory type people use to hold on to information as they are using/manipulating it

But y'all, when I was younger, I would watch a movie and then later have no recall of it, occasionally I could re-watch a movie and be surprised by the same plot twists.

#anxiety #memory #working memory #short term memory #whatever the name for that kind of memory is #memory problems

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5hfanfiction · 6 years ago

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Why Did I Get Married? (Camren)

Part 21: The Cabellos (pt.2)

Unless you let go, unless you forgive yourself, unless you forgive that someone who hurt you, unless you forgive the situation, and unless you realise the situation is over, you cannot move forward.

Letting go is incredibly difficult. And no matter if we cling to worries about the future, or if we keep replaying the mistakes of the past over and over again; it would still be quite painful to move on. To accept the things we cannot change. Even though these things once hurt us, we make a desperate attempt to hold on to the things that were familiar to us; even though it may limit us in reaching our full potential of happiness that we so rightfully deserve.

As they say, you should forget what hurt you, but never what it taught you; because all that hurt, all that pain shouldn’t be for nothing. The hurt, the pain, it molded you into the person that you are today.

It’s not going to be easy to let go, to move on. It’s going to hurt. It’s going to tear you apart, having to walk away from the memories of the person you lost. But would you rather walk away or sit there; over thinking a million and one questions running through your head. You’re unable to sleep. You’re creating different scenarios in your head, while you’re making a mental list about all the things you could’ve done to stop that person from walking away.

But the thing is, and you need to get this in your head, you cannot keep blaming yourself for someone’s inability to love you.

Today is going to be just like all the days before, when you were holding on to that last ounce of hope; difficult as hell, but once you let go, once you realise that you deserve more, you’ll be fine.

You’ll get over it.

You’ll be fine.

***

“Mummy?” Camila heard her daughter’s voice call out to her from the living room.

“Yes, baby?” She popped her head into the room. “What’s up?”

The child was sat on the floor with papers and crayons sprawled around her. Why on earth was she doing this when she had to head to school in a couple minutes? No one really knows what goes on in a child’s head.

“Here,” Izzy handed her mother a drawing. “I made this for you.” When Camila took the paper from her daughter, she saw a drawing of what she assumed to be herself and her daughter. She smiled when she saw what was written on the bottom of the sheet. ‘I love you, mummy,“ was sprawled across it. "I was bored and I wanted to draw something for you. I also made one for mama.”

“Made what for, mama?” Lauren asked as she entered the room. She sighed heavily when she saw the mess on the floor. “Princesa, you have to go to school soon.”

Izzy handed her other mother the drawing. “I made this for you. I’ll clean up now.”

“Aw, princesa,” Lauren stooped to her daughter’s height and wrapped her arms around her. “I love you too. I love you so much.” She picked her up in her arms and spun her around. “How did I get so lucky to call you mine?” She placed various kisses on the child’s face. “C'mere, Camz. Group hug.”

Camila laughed and wrapped her arms around her family. “I love you, Izzy,” she kissed her daughter. “I tolerate you, Laur.”

“Ouch,” Lauren fake pouted. She placed Izzy back on the floor to pack away her crayons. “I always knew you were with me for my money. She placed Izzy’s drawing into her workbag. Most of the drawings their daughter gave her, Lauren would have them in a portfolio on her work, or stuck around her office. It always made her feel closer to her family, when she wasn’t with them.

Camila laughed. She placed Izzy’s drawing on their refrigerator and smiled when she looked at it. "I make more money than you, babe.” She said from in the kitchen. Pouring herself and Lauren a cup of coffee.

“Thanks, amor,” she kissed her wife on the cheek. “You do, but it doesn’t mean that I’m broke. Why does everyone act as though I am?”

“That’s because you don’t have your own private jet,” the singer stated. “Or you don’t buy me the shoes that I need when we go shopping.”

Lauren shook her head and laughed. “Oh wow. Definitely why people think I’m broke.”

“What’s your net worth anyway?” Camila kinked an eyebrow. She took a sip of her coffee. “I wanna know how much I’m entitled to.”

The photographer shrugged. “About 30?”

“Dollars?”

Lauren laughed and rolled her eyes. “Milli, babe. Milli. See? Not that broke.”

Camila nodded. She placed her empty cup in the sink and turned back to her wife. She took Lauren’s cup out of her hands, and wrapped her own around her wife’s neck; while her wife’s went around her waist. “I love you, money or no money, you know that right?”

“I know. I love you, even though you accuse me of cheating for almost a year straight and prioritise your career over your family.” Camila rolled her eyes and was about to pull away but Lauren tightened her grip. “I’m in love with you, Camila Jauregui. You’re the light of my life.”

Camila leaned in closer, until her lips were ghosting her wife’s. “I love you too. I thank God for you every single day.” She captured Lauren’s lips in hers and instantly felt a surge of emotions run through her. Kissing her wife, loving Lauren, it was the best thing on this Earth. “Even though, I’m worth like 5 times more than you.”

Lauren laughed and playfully pushed away her wife. “I hate you. You’re annoying.” She said as she walked away and scooped their daughter up into her arms. Who was obviously looking on at the interaction between her parents. “Are you driving to Briggs? Or do you want me to drop you off too?”

The younger woman thought about it for a while. She wasn’t the best driver and she did have to parallel park when she pulled up by Doctor Briggs, but on the plus side, she can blast some sad songs and enter her feelings. “I think I’ll take my car.” Camila walked towards her wife and child. She placed a kiss on Izzy’s forehead. “I love you, baby. Be good and have fun at school.”

“I love you too, mummy. Tell abuelita I said hi!” Izzy smiled brightly at her mother.

Lauren pointed to her lips. “What about me? My lips are lonely,” she pouted.

Camila sighed heavily for dramatics. “Ugh, fine. If you insist.” She placed a lingering kiss on her wife’s lips. “Make good choices!” She yelled as they pulled away from the curb. She watched as Lauren’s Porsche disappeared from her sight. She smiled happily. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

Lauren and her were getting back on track. Izzy seemed to be doing a lot better than she was at first. Camila’s relationship with Becky; the sister she always wanted was blossoming, and though she still didn’t necessarily like Valentina, she was trying to let go of that one bad part of her life.

Camila unlocked her Ferrari, and slid in. Even though she was a terrible driver; on most days, she could drive perfectly, but when it came to reversing, parallel parking, and well, basically driving was a fucking trap.

Who even invented that?

It took her almost thirty minutes to reach to the office, as she had gotten lost. Usually the other therapy sessions, Lauren would’ve drove or Maggie. She never found the need to learn the route. What caught her attention was the Escalade SUV that was parked outside of the building. Doctor Briggs, along with Becky, Valentina and her mother were all standing outside.

How on earth did they always seem to arrive before her?

Camila parked her car and got out. She approached her family and Doctor Briggs. “Hey. I’m sorry late. I um…got lost,” she mumbled. Only Becky had heard and snickered. She playfully glared at her sister, but she pulled her into a hug. “I missed you, loser.”

“I can’t say the same,” Becky shrugged, but she caved when she saw the look on her older sister’s face. “Okay, fine. I missed you loads.”

Doctor Briggs cleared her throat, interrupting the sister’s mini reunion and addressed everyone. “Well, it’s nice of you to finally join us, Camila. Today, we’ll be going on a…field trip for the lack of a better term.”

“Where exactly?” Sinu piped in.

Doctor Briggs pointed to the SUV. “I assure you, it’s no where bad. This is your final stage in your healing process,” she addressed Camila. “So if you all may,” her chauffeur stepped out from behind the car and opened the door for the women. She was a slim built, African American woman, that had a glint of crazy in her eyes.

“The name’s Angela. But y'all can call me Angie. You’re in safe and capable hands,” she grinned at the women and gestured towards the car. Once everyone got in, Angie slid into the driver’s seat and began their journey towards the unknown destination.

Despite her almost crashing the car as she was on the phone talking to, what Camila assumed was her 'baby daddy’, the ride itself hadn’t been entirely bad.

She and Becky, even though they spoke every other day, they did their catching up. Meanwhile a few words were passed between Camila and Valentina, in the sake of humanity.

***

*At the cemetery*

Once everyone exited the car and came face to face with the reality of where they were, that’s when they realised where they were.

“What are we doing here?” Valentina was the one to address the therapist.

Doctor Briggs turned towards the group. “With some research, I was able to find the whereabouts of Mr Cabello’s grave. I didn’t want to mention this earlier, as I didn’t want any one of you to grow uncomfortable and therefore not come to today’s session.”

Camila shook her head 'no’. “What kind of sick joke is this? Why did you bring me here? I’m not ready for this!” She was trying to contain herself, but her breathing had become laboured. Her chest was heaving. “Please,” she mustered out weakly. “I can’t do this.” Camila walked away quickly wiping at her tears.

“Wait,” Becky held Sinu back. “It’s okay. I’ll go after her.” The woman nodded and allowed the girl to go after her sister.

A short distance off, Camila propped herself against a tree, trying to slow her breathing. She had never visited her father’s grave before, sure, she thought about it but it was too hard. Standing over his tombstone would have made his death seem all too real.

It would’ve finally sunk in that he was gone and never coming back.

“Hey…” Becky rested a hand on her sister’s shoulder; Camila tensed a bit but relaxed after a few moments. “Are you…are you okay?”

“I just…I just didn’t think we would’ve been coming here, you know?” Camila turned to face her sister. She gestured to the cemetery. “I don’t think I’m ready to say good bye.”

“Who said anything about saying goodbye?” Becky asked. “I mean, I know it’s kind of like a goodbye. The final stage of letting go, so it should count as a goodbye, but it doesn’t mean that you have to let go of dad himself.”

Camila sighed heavily. She ran a shaky hand through her hair. “It’s just so hard being here, you know? It’s been a decade and I never truly accepted the fact that dad is actually…gone.”

Her sister nodded in understanding. “I feel you. Sometimes, I still feel as though he’s still alive. That he’s still here with me, but I know that he’s not. And it’s just the memories of him that I’m keeping alive.” She took Camila’s hands in her own. “Just because dad isn’t alive anymore, doesn’t mean that he’s dead. His memories, I know they’re still as vivid as you can remember. Hold on to them.”

Camila sighed. “Why are you so wise?”

“It just goes to show…I got the looks and the brain,” Becky teased her sister.

Camila laughed, she threw an arm over her sister’s shoulder. “After all these years, I can’t believe how lucky I am. I got to be blessed with a sister like you.”

The younger sister smiled. “I can say the same about you. To think I didn’t like your music. I mean it’s still not all that,” Camila pouted playfully. “Now Lauren however, she seems like she can make some bomb music.”

“Okay. Shut up. Let’s go back?”

Becky laughed, she nodded and led her sister back to the group. They had reconvened by Alejandro’s grave. Camila’s steps slowed as she approached her father’s grave. Becky tightened her grip on her sister’s hand.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” the girl ensured her sister. “I’m here.”

Sinu approached her daughter. “Are you okay, mija?” Camila nodded. The elderly woman wrapped her arms around her daughter and placed a kiss on her head. “We’re all here for you. Even Valentina.”

Camila snorted. “Right.”

“Camila?” Everyone turned once Doctor Briggs addressed them. “Are you alright?” She nodded. “Let’s get to it shall we?”

All Alejandro’s family members surrounded his grave. Camila looked at the tombstone and sighed.

In a way, the words written on tombstones are your last words to the world about the person buried under there.

Those who died yesterday had plans for today. Those who died this morning had plans for tonight. Don’t take life for granted. Don’t take the ones who you love for granted because in a blink of an eye they can be snatched away from you.

Everything can change.

Forgive often. Love with all your heart. You’re never going to get these moments back.

“We’re all here as the final stage in letting go of all this hurt. Camila? I’ll like for you to speak first and then you, Becky,” Doctor Briggs directed the two sisters. She handed Camila some flowers that she had brought with her.

Camila knelt by her father’s grave. She placed the flowers and ran her hand over his tombstone. “Papá…I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if you’ve heard me all these years crying out to you…but I want you to know that I miss you. I miss you so much that it hurts. It physically pains me how much I miss you,” her voice had began to break. “Everyday I wake up with so much regret. I should’ve visited you in the hospital. Even if it was just for a moment…to tell you…that…that I forgive you.”

When those three words left her mouth, Camila’s heart instantly felt lighter.

“I must’ve forgiven you a long time ago, but it was so hard to say, papá. I love you. I could never hate you,” Camila turned to look at Becky; stretching a hand out for her to take, joining her at their father’s grave. “Becky and I…we finally met. And I just know how proud you would be of her. She’s pretty much amazing. The best little sister anyone could ask for.”

Becky smiled. She placed her flowers beside Camila’s. “Papi, I miss you. It’s been so long without you. I forgot your voice. Sometimes, I have to look at the pictures of you because I start to forget what you look like,” she sighed. “But I can’t forget how much I love you. I wish I had more time with you, but you can’t get everything that you want.” She ran her hand along her father’s tombstone.

Sinu and Valentina looked on at their daughters. They knew how hard it was for their girls to have lost their father at the age they did. But now that they had each other, it seemed as thought their healing process would finally be okay.

“I love you, papi,” Becky turned towards Camila. “And I love you too. I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I love you. You’re my sister. My blood. You’re such an incredible woman and I can’t believe that I have you in my life.”

Camila choked back a sob. She smiled and pulled her sister into a hug. “I love you too, Beckster. I love you so much.” She had her sister in such a tight hug. “I don’t think I want to let you go,” she laughed but eventually pulled away.

“Do you want to tell your father about how you felt over the years when he left you and your mother?” Doctor Briggs asked her client.

Camila turned back to look at her father’s tombstone and sighed. “I missed you all those years, papá. I was so mad and so hurt when you left me for her,” she glanced at Valentina for a moment and she could’ve seen the regret in her step mother’s eyes. “I hated growing up without you. All those years, without you that I’ll never get back hurts. But…but I still love you, and that will never change, papá.”

Becky held Camila’s hand and played with her fingers; soothing her sister. She knew just hard it was to grow up without a father. The thing about death is that it leaves a heartache that no one can heal, but as everyone says, you just have to wait for it to pass with time.

Those who we love can and will never leave us. Though, death may take the person away from us physically, the memory and love that we have for them, will never truly fade away.

“Tell him how you felt when you found out he was sick,” Doctor Briggs told Camila. “And tell him your regrets; about him dying and you not visiting him at the hospital.”

Camila sighed. “I regret so much about your death, papá. I regret not going to visit you at the hospital, but I don’t think I could’ve done it. I couldn’t see you in that hospital bed. I couldn’t look at the man that I always knew and see him suffering,” she struggled at the thoughts of seeing her father sick. Seeing him there in that hospital bed would’ve broken her heart. Seeing your loved ones laying in bed, and you can’t do anything to help them. “I felt helpless.” Camila admitted. “I prayed for you. I prayed for your peace, even if you started this whole war in me. I know you did your best, and maybe if you didn’t…I know you were a troubled man. But I love you.”

Valentina interrupted her stepdaughter. “Camila… I have something to give you. I don’t think I can hold onto it any longer.” She reached into her purse and handed her an envelope. “Your father had written this may years ago when he was still alive; but sick at the time. He wanted you to have this…and I think now is the best time.”

Camila stared at the envelope in her own hands. She didn’t know whether to open it or not. But she really wanted to know what her father had written to her all those years ago. “Can I?” She sought permission from her therapist who nodded.

“Go ahead, Camila.”

When she tore open the envelope, she saw her father’s scrawl on the worn out paper. The tears began to flow freely down her cheeks.

Dearest Camilita, I’m writing to you because I’m too scared to say all these things to you in person. I want to say how sorry I am for hurting you all those years ago and for still hurting you. I’m sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you and your mother. You didn’t deserve any of that. You never did, but I was a foolish old man. I broke my little girl’s heart for my own selfish desires. I know I don’t deserve it, and I may never deserve your forgiveness, but I just want you to know, that from the bottom of my heart…I am sincerely sorry. I’m so proud of you, Camila. You will grow up to be an extraordinary young woman one day. I can only hope that you find a love that is oh so deserving of your pure heart. I hope you start a family and you don’t make the same mistakes that I made. I would give everything just to walk you down the aisle, and to see the man that has stolen your heart. Whatever path you decide to go on career wise, I want you to know that I am proud of you already. Law may not have been something you wanted to pursue, but how can I ever be mad at you for not following in my footsteps? You were always your own person and that was something I always loved about you. Your independence, your passion and drive. When you wanted to achieve something, you would never give up until you got it.

My biggest regret is that I will never get to watch you graduate high school, I would never get to see you collect your degree as you cross that stage, I won’t get to pretend to be that disgruntled father when their daughter is spending too much of their money for her wedding, I won’t be able to meet and hold my very first grandchild, and lastly…the most important is that I won’t get to be a part of your life.

By this time, you must’ve met Rebecca…your sister. I hope that one day you can learn to love her the way I loved you. Many times did I speak about you to her. She was young then, so I don’t think she can remember, but I wish for the two of you to have a relationship. Don’t let my stupidity ruin your sisterhood. I may no longer be there with you, but I will always be a memory in your heart, if you choose to keep me there. Until my dying breath, I’ve thought about you, Camila. You were one my greatest treasures, along with Rebecca that is. I know you would turn out to be a lot better than I could’ve ever imagined.

Love Always, Papá.

After reading her father’s letter, Camila couldn’t stop her tears from flowing. The paper had a few tear droplets on it, but nothing to smudge one of the last remaining memories of her father. Becky wrapped her sister in her arms.

Moment by moment, the tears fell. Salty drops fell from her chin, drenching her sister’s shirt. Perhaps those tears would wash away the pain that Camila felt inside reading these words her father wrote.

She sobbed into Becky’s chest unceasingly, her hands clutching at the girl’s denim jacket. Becky held her in silence, rocking her slowly as her tears soaked her chest. A tiny lapse of time allowed her to pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears. Sinu knelt besides her daughter and wrapped her arms around her as well. Valentina chose not to interrupt as she was sure her presence would not be wanted.

Doctor Briggs didn’t say anything. She knew just how painful sessions like these would be. So she allowed her client to cry her pain away.

The pain must have came in waves, minutes of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for Camila to recover her breath. Only for her to be hurled back into the outstretched arms of her grief. It could’ve been a few minutes or hours, Camila wasn’t sure about time, until her tears began to cease.

“I forgive you, papá. I love you. I love you so much,” she glanced around at her family members. She saw Valentina standing a distance off. She held an outstretched hand towards the woman. At first, she was a bit take aback, but she took Camila’s hand, hesitantly. “I forgive you too.”

Valentina opened and shut her mouth. Not a word came out.

“He didn’t ask me too and I’d love to hate you,” Camila paused. “But that’s not the type of person I am. I’m letting go of this hurt, of this pain. So Valentina…I forgive you.”

“I..t-thank you,” Valentina stuttered out. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I am beyond grateful for it. I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am, but please know, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry.”

Camila had a small smile on her lips. “All is forgiven, Valentina. Without you, I wouldn’t have had my sister that I love so much. I wouldn’t have grown into the woman that I am today without the lessons I was taught by my hurt. Though, it wasn’t ideal, and our relationship got ruined over the years, I’ll love to eventually rebuild one with you.”

Becky smiled and wrapped her sister into a hug. “Dad was right.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have an incredible heart. He’ll be so proud.”

Sinu smiled. “He would be so proud of the both of you. You’re both incredible young women with hearts of gold. You’re both just like him. It sickens me that you’re not even remotely similar to me,” she looked at her daughter who laughed softly. “But if you had to be like anyone, I’m glad that you’re like your father.”

“I love you, mami. I love you so much.”

“And I love you.”

Doctor Briggs cleared her throat after all the heartfelt exchange between the family, to direct them back to the matter at hand. “Camila?” The singer looked at her therapist. “Care to tell your father about your family?”

At the mention of her own little family, Camila felt her heart soar. “I’ve been married to the woman I’ve loved since I was 16. Though, Lauren isn’t the man you wanted me to be with, and I’m pretty sure she would never pass your level of expectation but I’m so in love with her. Every time I’m with her, she makes me feel as though I’m the only woman in the world. She makes me extremely happy. And papá, your very first grandchild was born five years ago. Her name is Emilia Isabella,” Camila smiled when talked about her daughter. “She used to ask about you, but I would always change the topic…but now? Now, I’m going to tell her all about you. About our little family,” she looked at Becky and Valentina. “I want you to meet them.”

“I actually met her already,” Becky stated.

Her mother cleared her throat. “What do you mean, Rebecca Marie?”

“I uhh…nothing!” Her mother gave her a look, saying as though they would discuss this further when they were alone.

Camila shook her head smiling and looked back at her father’s tombstone. “I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if I believe in the afterlife, heaven or hell…but for your sake…I hope that heaven has given you a second chance.” She stood and dusted her pants; everyone else following suit. She pressed a kiss to her fingers, then ran her fingers over her father’s tombstone.

Death is a painful truth, is what some would say. But death is nothing but a foggy road, and we must get through that fog; what I would like to call life, to see that clearing. It’s another path that we are fated to walk, but who’s to say that it would be our last?

Life may be the beginning, our very first path, but we aren’t sure if death is our final destination. What if when we die, death is the middle of the story, and we have to read through that to get to a place beyond death? Who knows? But right now, Alejandro was dead, and maybe when Camila were to die, she would be reunited with her father and she would get to tell him how she had forgiven him.

But now?

This would have to suffice.

Once Doctor Briggs had realised that Camila was finished. She pulled her aside from everyone else. Sinu, Valentina and Becky were telling Alejandro their farewells.

“Thank you so much for being so forthcoming with everything, Camila. I know this wasn’t what you had in mind when I mentioned an impromptu field trip, but it was necessary,” Doctor Briggs told her client. “How are you feeling now?”

Camila inhaled deeply. “After reading that letter, I feel so relieved. I said everything I need to say. I know it’s not the same thing, but maybe he’s out there listening to me and he heard me tell him that I forgave him…” She trailed off.

“We’re taught that death is something we should away from, and try to forget about, but for you Camila, you needed to make peace with your father. You needed to tell him these things, you needed to accept everything and to let it go. And upon letting go, you can finally start to move on.”

Camila nodded in understanding.

“People can be more forgiving than you can imagine. But you have to forgive yourself. Let go of what’s bitter, of the hurt and move on,” Chelsea had the hint of a smile on her lips. “And after today, you are on the path of moving on. You should be proud of yourself, Camila.”

The singer smiled. “I am. I never thought I would ever be able to let go of the pain that I was harbouring and I think I have. So thank you.”

“It’s not me you have to thank, its yourself, Camila. You’re the one behind your recovery. I’m just the one guiding you through it.”

Camila looked at her family and smiled. “I know but still, thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t know what would’ve happened.”

***

Once they had returned from the cemetery, everyone had headed on their way home. When Camila reached to where she had parked her car, was shocked to see Lauren leaning against it. She had Izzy in her arms and they were engrossed in conversation.

As soon as the child saw her mother, she started squirming in Lauren’s arms until the woman had let her go. Camila picked her up and placed chaste kisses all over the child’s face.

“Hey, amor,” she kissed her wife on the cheek. “Doctor Briggs.” Lauren greeted their therapist.

Camila smiled. “What are you doing here?”

“Izzy got off school early and she insisted that we had to come see you…so here we are,” Lauren shrugged.

“Lauren? Can I see you in my office for a moment?” The therapist asked and Lauren nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” Upon entering Chelsea’s office, she pulled out her notepad and wrote in it.

“I have an assignment for you,” Doctor Briggs started. “After today, Camila seems to be moving on quite well with everything. But what I need for you is to get her to talk about her dad more, especially to your daughter. Izzy should know about her grandfather but it will help Camila in learning to talk about him,” Lauren nodded. “However, try to ease her into it. All the pain that had been build up over the years, wouldn’t go away just like that.”

“I understand. I’ll try to get her to tell Izzy about him from time to time.”

“Oh and Lauren?”

“Yeah?”

“Next session will be you and your family’s. Please don’t forget to invite your father, mother and sister,” Lauren sighed but nodded nonetheless. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

*** Wattpad:Commander_Camrenl

Update, Family, Angst/Drama, Humour, Camren, G!P, Romance/Fluff

#UPDATE #family #angst drama #humour #camren #gp #romance fluff #Why Did I Get Married #submission

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