#not just for the loss of her son - lots of people lost their children to this war

[hellodropbear]

17520 hours.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter (ish)

angst. part of the 'it's time.' series

mapi struggles on the two year anniversary of her best friend's death. Ingrid is right there to help her but she doesn't know how to let her in.

this is a lot more angst than i'm used to posting but i hope you like it.

it was hard to write and partially based on personal experiences so i apologise if it's not very good.

also decided to put it all in one part because i couldn't find a good place to split it!

i hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~

Two years is a long time. 

Two years is 104 weeks, two years is 730 days. Two birthdays, two christmases, two easters. Two summers and two winters, two new years and two anniversaries. 

Two years is a long time to miss someone. It should be enough time to have moved on. 

But when their daughter is in your care, that seems almost impossible. 

It was everyday that Mapi thought about her best friend, sometimes looking at her daughter and only seeing his eyes staring right back at her. 

The day was one that the Spaniard dreaded, the days becoming quicker and quicker in the lead up, the night before slowing right down as she crawled into bed, tossing and turning as she tried to sleep. 

Isabel was almost two. Still too young to understand that there was anything out of the ordinary in her life, anything that raised any questions. Even if Mapi tried explaining, she was sure that her daughter wouldn’t have the first idea what anything meant. 

She wouldn’t understand that Mapi wasn’t supposed to have her even though she gave birth. She wouldn’t understand that her parents had died because her Mami was right there in front of her. 

It was just a part of parenthood that Mapi had no idea how to conquer. She knew everything else, having spent hours and hours with her head buried in countless baby books, countless books that discussed grief and sadness in children. 

But Isabel wasn’t sad, she wasn’t grieving because she never knew Luis or Isabel. 

There were no books about how to tell a kid about her dead parents. It was a taboo topic, of sorts, one that many stand-in parents were reluctant to discuss with their child, hoping that they would just believe that they were their real parents. It was a bridge most people decided to cross when they had to, not at any point earlier than completely necessary. 

Mapi didn’t want that, she wanted her daughter to know who Luis was, who Isabel was. 

She just didn’t know when or how she should introduce the idea of them. 

But the second anniversary of their death left Mapi in a numb state, entirely torn up on the inside as she tried to decide whether she would take her daughter with her on her annual graveyard visit. It was Mapi’s time to chat to Luis alone, no interruptions, no distractions. 

Because while Isabel lost her parents, Mapi lost her lifelong best friend. 

She lost Luis, who meant everything and more to her. Luis who had moved to Barcelona a few months after her, Luis who watched every single one of her games, the first person to text her after a hard loss or an impressive win. 

She still hadn’t got out of the habit of checking her phone after a match, pain settling deep in her chest as her screen remained bare, his notification forever absent. 

It wasn’t a question of where she would be on the second anniversary. She knew exactly where she would be sat and exactly how she would feel as she stared at that obnoxiously large gravestone, big bold carvings of his name, his date of birth and date of death. 

‘Loving husband, son and friend.’ it read. Not father. ‘A man who lit up the lives of everyone he met.’ It was an understatement, Mapi had thought.

She had spent hours there when Isabel was a newborn, cradling her tiny body in her arms as she sat and silently stared at those few words. Loneliness ate her up, wishing for nothing other than her best friend. 

But her daughter had lit up her world as everything else was crumbling down, single handedly keeping the two of them afloat as Mapi grew tired, the sheer weight of her emotions almost drowning them. 

Isabel was an infant, too young to know anything was different. She was completely enraptured by her mother, smiling and laughing everyday they spent together in their small and stuffy apartment, completely unaware of the anguish that her mother was going through. 

It seemed fitting on the second anniversary of their death, only a couple months before her second birthday that Isabel would finally visit their gravestones. 

Even the thought of the graveyard made her feel uncomfortable, Mapi’s skin crawling at the thought of her best friend beneath her, cold and still. Someone she loved, such a warm and constant presence in her life, lying right there in the ground. 

It made her feel sick. Sick with anger because he was gone too soon. With grief because she never got to say goodbye. With guilt because she got to have the one thing he had always wanted. But mostly sick with the heartbreaking realisation that he was down there, in the flesh. 

Luis was dead. 

~~~~~~

It wasn’t a cold day, but she shivered as she stepped out of the car, the cool breeze prickling her skin as she unclipped a groggy Isabel from the back seat. 

“Where are we, Mami?” 

She looked around at her unfamiliar surroundings in confusion, probably expecting to have woken up in her bed. 

Mapi just hugged her, not trusting her voice to not break if she tried to respond. 

Despite only visiting twice before, the graveyard was familiar, she knew exactly how to get to Luis’ plot. She walked with purpose, not looking at the grave as she laid down the rug, only facing her best friend’s name once she was sat down. 

“This is your Papi, Is.”

Saying it out loud, her daughter in her arms. His daughter in her arms. It felt unusual, it felt uncomfortable. She could feel Isabel looking up at her, the confusion that radiated from the toddler’s body. 

She loosened her arms as Isabel wriggled herself free, waddling towards the stone and placing her hand on it. 

“Papi?”

She looked back at Mapi, a question in her eyes. She was met with tears slipping down her Mami’s face. 

“Mami.”

In an instant, she was back in Mapi’s arms, reaching up and wiping away the tears. 

“No sad, Mami. Brave like lion.”

Mapi nodded, a watery chuckle falling from her mouth. 

“I’m going to talk to your Papi, Is. Is that ok?”

Isabel nodded, settling herself on the rug with her lion toy as Mapi stood up, walking closer to the stone and placing her hand on his name, crouching down so it was at eye level. 

“Meet your daughter, Lu. She has your eyes, you know. She’s funny and smart and entirely the light of my life. I love her so much. More than I ever loved you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, really. I promise. I promise I’ve tried my best and I hope you’re proud of her. I hope you’re proud of me.”

She bit her lip, unsuccessfully biting back her own tears. 

“It’s been two years, Lu. I don’t know how I have made it through two whole years without you, really. It’s been so… hard. I still expect to see you, to hear from you. Sometimes I think I do, only to realise that it’s not possible. Because you’re dead. You weren’t supposed to die, not so soon. You were supposed to watch your daughter grow, I was supposed to be her really cool aunt that she would go to when you argued, to give her that tattoo when you said no. ”

She let out a strangled chuckle, trying to alleviate some of the pain she felt. They had discussed Mapi’s relationship with the child at length, knowing that the centre back would love the child as her own because she was always with Luis, she would always be around the couple as they raised their child. That wouldn’t have changed if she wasn’t biologically Mapi’s. 

Back then, Mapi had thought she would have been fine with the situation. She knew the baby wasn’t really hers, she knew that she would still be able to watch the baby grow up, that she would still be able to love her. 

It wasn’t a problem that had actually materialised, but they hadn’t expected both Isabel and Luis to die right before she was born. 

“Now I have to discipline her, Luis, which is the one thing I didn’t want to have to do. But she’s such a good girl, she is so intelligent. Like you, really. She knows how I feel all the time, she definitely inherited your emotional intelligence. She loves everyone too, just like you. I was never supposed to be a mother, was I? You were always the paternal one out of the two of us, you were the one who deserved a child. But I am the one that got her.”

She swallows roughly, biting her lip. 

“Oh Luis, you would have loved her so much.”

Very quickly, she is overcome by her tears, collapsing down into herself in sobs. 

It’s all too much, it’s all too hard. 

It’s unfair that her best friend left her, that she was left alone to grow up. Growing up was something they had discussed at length when they were younger. Obviously they were never going to be married, they’d never live together. 

They had dreamt of adjoining houses, doors that connected their backyards. They were going to grow up together, the two of them. Luis would have his wife and a gaggle of kids, Mapi would have her wife and a pack of cats. They’d have their own families but their lives would be so closely connected because they loved each other in the purest way possible. 

A childhood connection, one that grew and grew into adulthood. 

One that was supposed to last a lifetime. 

It did last a lifetime, it lasted Luis’ lifetime. Just not Mapi’s. 

She calmed herself down after a couple minutes, Isabel unsurprisingly noticing her mother’s sadness and crawling into her arms as a source of comfort. 

They sat there for hours, an easy silence settling upon the pair. Mapi was deep in thought, Isabel knew it wasn’t the time for play, it wasn’t the time for her mindless babbling. 

It had been a couple hours when she heard the footsteps, people approaching silently. 

She hadn’t expected to see anyone there, but upon reflection she realised she had been naive - it was the anniversary after all. 

“Maria?”

She hadn’t heard Ane’s voice in two years. The last conversation they had was full of empty promises, of visits to Zaragoza that Mapi knew she would not go on. Promises that they would get to know the child that was growing in Mapi’s stomach, promises that they wouldn’t lose touch. 

They had lost touch, Mapi unable to visit Luis’ home whenever she returned to her parents. Ane and Mikel were in too much pain to see the child, not sure how they could face it. 

“Ane.” She stood up, facing the older woman and allowing herself to be enveloped in her arms. 

“It’s so good to see you, Maria.”

Mapi could only nod, her eyes still watery and her face still red. It had been a long morning. 

She turned to face Mikel, who was staring straight forward, his eyes only softening as Mapi grabbed his hand and kissed it. 

“I have missed you both.” She smiled softly. It was a sad smile, but a real one. 

They were Luis’ parents, of course, but they were her pseudo parents whenever she needed them. They were so close, especially when Mapi and Luis were in their teenage years. 

“Is this… is that her?”

Ane looked down at the curly headed girl, her eyes softening as she watched her play with her toys. 

“Isabel Luisa.” Mapi nodded. “I thought today would be a good day for her to come visit.”

The older woman looked down at the child adoringly, smiling as she looked up at the unfamiliar adults. 

It was a bit awkward for a few moments, as Mapi, Mikel and Ane sat in an uncomfortable silence. 

Mapi excused herself, moving away to the bathrooms but leaving her belongings by the grave. She knew she wanted to talk to them, that they wanted to talk to her. 

She also knew they needed some time alone before they would be able to. 

But she did return, sitting down on her rug right beside the older couple. 

And Ane spoke, her voice soft, her voice sad. 

She told Mapi how grateful she is, how glad she is that she took Isabel in, that she didn’t even question it. How grateful she is that Mapi did everything to make her son happy all throughout his life, from buying him an extra chocolate bar when they were children to carrying his baby for him when he and his wife were unable to do it. 

Ane told her that she had given him his one dream, fatherhood. It was just unlucky that he wasn’t alive to live it. 

There were tears in her eyes as she told her how grateful Luis would be. How much he loved her. How happy he would be that his daughter ended up with the Spaniard, the person he probably trusted the most in the world. 

Mapi nodded her appreciation, sitting with the two adults for a while longer before Isabel grew tired, the sun falling down, the afternoon turning into evening. 

She said a tearful goodbye, collecting her things and standing, Mikel standing up as well and walking her to her car. 

“She looks just like him.” His words were soft, softer than Mapi had ever heard him. “I have thought about you every day, Maria. You and her. I am so relieved to see you here because I worried so much about you. I worried that you wouldn’t be ok, that you’d not be able to raise her. Not because I doubted you, but because I know how hard it is to lose people.”

Mapi nodded softly, looking up at the man. 

“I don’t doubt that you have had a hard time, but I also don’t doubt that you’re a good Mami. A great Mami to this little girl.”

“Thanks, Mikel.”

He nodded, that was all he needed to say. 

It was all he needed to say for Mapi to tear up again, picking Isabel up and holding her in his space. He looked at the Spaniard, who nodded, before placing a soft kiss on her head. 

“Come visit, Maria. When you come home. Bring the little one too.”

Mapi nodded, a smile on her face. 

This time, it wasn’t an empty promise. 

~~~~~~

She got home to an empty apartment. Quiet, dark. She could have texted Ingrid, the Norwegian likely would have come over in an instant, her warm arms right there for endless comfort. 

But she couldn’t bring herself to open her phone, couldn’t bring herself to stand up and walk over to the kitchen table where it was sitting. Instead, she stayed seated, relaxed back on the sofa with tears tracking down her face as she stared blankly at the wall. 

It wasn’t often that she was left alone with her thoughts. Not when she had a chatty toddler to look after, a loving girlfriend who spent every day trying to make Mapi happy. It worked, because Ingrid did make her happy, happier than she’d ever been. 

And Isabel also made her happy, she was the best thing in the Spaniard’s life. 

So why did she feel so sad? Why was Luis’ death still so hard for her to process?

Two years felt like too long to still be so upset about it all. She wondered when it would go away. If it would ever go away. 

His death was something that Mapi didn’t think she would ever be able to comprehend. She was able to live her life as normal again, plastering a smile to cover up the mess that she was on the inside. But it had taken such a long time to even get to that point, despite her daughter’s positive presence.  

Everyone knew how long it had taken. Mapi didn’t think anyone really knew how broken up she still felt about it. A part of her was embarrassed, embarrassed that she still hadn’t gotten over it. Was still yet to move on. 

Even as she thought it over, progress seemed so impossible. The thought of moving on like so many people had told her to do made her feel sick, because how was she supposed to move on when he was everything to her?

She didn’t sleep that night, barely able to smile as she fed Isabel and put her to bed. The toddler knew something was wrong, of course, a frown on her face as Mapi put her down for the evening. 

Isabel had seen Mapi sad before. Lots of times, really, but her mother usually tried her best to hide it from her. She would push the emotions down and far away as she interacted with her kid but Isabel was so perceptive, so in tune with Mapi’s emotions. 

She knew whenever Mapi was sad. It made her feel sad too. 

But Isabel never would have known that her mother was sitting in the same spot on the sofa all night, her mind a rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions, resisting any rest that tried to fall upon her. 

She wasn’t sure if she regretted telling Ingrid that she wanted to be alone for the day, that her girlfriend shouldn’t come over like she usually did. The Spaniard just didn’t know if it would make it better or worse. She didn’t know how to alleviate herself from some of the pain she felt. 

She realised she didn’t know much at all. 

Mapi watched as the sun rose outside, the night becoming morning. The new day arriving along with the sounds of birds chirping, the city happily waking up as the clouds had gone away and the sun had finally come out. 

Two years and one day. 

Her daughter’s whining was audible from her spot in the main room as she woke up. Her daughter’s whining was probably the only thing that would have successfully moved her from her seat. 

“Mami!” Isabel frowned at the sight of her mother as her door opened, dark bags beneath her red and puffy eyes. 

“Good morning, my girl.”

She smiled weakly, kneeling beside her toddler and raking her hand through her hair as Isabel became more aware of her surroundings. 

It was a slow morning; a slow rise from bed and a slow breakfast. The toddler was still in her pyjamas by 10, her hair and teeth remained unbrushed. 

It was no surprise that Ingrid was on the other side of the door at 11, Isabel opening the door when she heard the knocks. The Norwegian had a bright smile on her face as she scooped Isabel up into her arms and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“Mami, Ingrid.” She pointed over at where Mapi was standing, and it was one glance at the Spaniard that told Ingrid that despite her promise that she’d be alright, her girlfriend was definitely not ok. Her smile faded and she frowned slightly, concern etched deep into her features, 

Her steps towards Mapi were tentative, unsure how to approach the situation. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t know Mapi, of course she knew her. She just didn’t know about Mapi’s grief. She had heard from teammates that she hadn’t dealt with the death well, that she had locked herself up in her house for months, over a year. But it was one topic that the Spaniard avoided at all costs, a master of changing the subject whenever it would come up. 

Ingrid never felt like it was her place to pry. 

But now, seeing her girlfriend so… broken, so depleted, it made her regret not being more insistent in those times. Because maybe if they spoke about it then, she would know how to help. 

But in that moment, she had no idea what to do. 

“Maria…” Her voice was quiet. “I’ve missed you.”

Mapi didn’t reply, but she could feel Ingrid’s free arm wrapping around her and she immediately clung onto her girlfriend. She was desperate and Ingrid was a lifeline. 

“Alright. Isabel, do you want to go play with Bagheera for a minute?”

The child nodded as she was placed back on the floor, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge where the cat was likely waking up from her nap. 

Mapi, still clinging onto the Norwegian’s arm, frowned slightly, still not willing herself to make eye contact with Ingrid. 

“You’re not ok, Mapi, are you?”

She didn’t nod, she didn’t shake her head. Her mouth remained completely sealed. 

But Ingrid knew her well enough to recognise the tears that filled up her eyes, the way her hand trembled against the Norwegian’s skin. 

The brunette softened, her worries confirmed; leaving Mapi alone for the entire previous day was probably one of the worst promises she had ever made. She shouldn’t have agreed to it, not when she knew that Mapi would need her. 

“Ok. It’s ok. You’ll be ok, Maria. I just want you to sit down for me.”

She led her around to the other side of the kitchen bench, sitting down in a seat right beside her and wrapping her arm around the Spaniard’s shoulders. 

The Norwegian could feel herself becoming more and more anxious at Mapi’s almost catatonic state, entirely unequipped and unsure how to deal with it. 

It took half an hour of speaking to Mapi with no response for Ingrid to realise that she couldn’t do anything. A heartbreaking realisation of sorts, but one that she needed to have in order to help her.  

She knew she should be able to do this herself, she wished that it didn’t have to be so hard. But Alexia had been there before Ingrid, Alexia had been there for Mapi during Isabel’s infancy, right after she lost Luis. 

So she sent the Spanish midfielder a quick text, alerting her of the centre back’s state.

She felt guilty as the relief surged through her, Alexia assuring her that she would be there soon. 

However, neither the Spaniard nor the Norwegian could see the toddler’s tears, her quiet whimpers of anxiety and upset. 

Isabel didn’t like seeing Mapi upset, not at all. She was a happy person, usually, a permanent smile on her face, energetic as she played with the toddler. 

But she sat and stroked Bagheera, silent tears streaming down her little face with one thought on her mind. Why was Mami so sad all of a sudden? And why did it make her feel so miserable too?

Alexia arrived in a flurry, her heart dropping at the sight of her friend as she rushed towards her, immediately pulling her into a suffocating hug. 

“Maria, Maria. Come on, please. Say something.” Her voice sounded urgent and Ingrid could only watch, worry and confusion clear on her face. 

With no response, Alexia leaned back, staring straight into Mapi’s eyes. She could read the centre back like a book and her eyes told her everything she needed to know. 

“Ale.”

She frowned, tilting her head at the blonde in front of her. 

“Mapi, breathe. Take a deep breath in.”

Ingrid slipped out of the room as Mapi followed Alexia, breathing in and out slowly until she collapsed into Alexia’s arms, the tears spilling from her eyes easily as she reconnected with reality. 

It was her reaction to sadness, Mapi had realised a few months ago. Disconnecting from the world around her, unable to move, speak. She could barely hear anything, see anything until it was right in front of her face. 

She couldn’t feel anything either, but that was a more common response, something that she couldn’t be pulled out of so easily. 

She hated it, more than anything. Because when she was pulled from her state of disconnect, she felt nothing but terror, an overwhelming sadness that came rushing back as soon as that trap door opened. 

It was like her body was trying to protect her from feeling, the emotions just too much. It would just shut down until she was numb, not really registering that at some point she just had to feel it because there was no way of getting away from those emotions. 

Alexia had seen it all before and she was usually the one to grab Mapi, to shake her out of her headspace and bring her back to reality. 

It was terrifying for her too, especially the first time she witnessed it. 

“Ale.”

Mapi’s sobs had been reduced to quiet whimpers into Alexia’s shoulder after a while, her mind throwing itself through all her thoughts, all her emotions. Luis was gone, Luis had been gone for two years. She has his daughter, her Isabel who she loves so much. Ingrid was here but now she is not, where has Ingrid gone? Alexia, right in front of her, fear visible in the midfielder’s eyes no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 

Luis was gone, Isabel was hers. Ingrid was gone, Alexia was here.

Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia.

Her four people. 

She felt her breath hitch, Alexia’s arms tightening around her. 

She felt the tears dripping down from her eyes, saturating the fabric of Alexia’s shirt, the wet fabric now uncomfortable to rest her face on. 

She could hear Alexia’s breathing, the sound of her heart racing. 

Feel Alexia’s arms around her, the floor beneath her feet and the chair that she was sitting on. 

Taste the salty tears. Tears of grief, fear, confusion. 

Luis, Isabel, Ingrid, Alexia. 

“Ale, where is Isabel?”

~~~~~~

Ingrid slipped out of the room easily, not needed as Alexia dealt with Mapi’s overwhelming emotions. 

Mapi’s cries were audible from the main room she found herself in, wincing as she walked towards Isabel who was still stroking Bagheera, her movements fluid and repetitive, a consistent cycle that easily could have rubbed a groove into the cat’s black fur. 

The Norwegian couldn’t see the tears that had stained the little girl's face, still spilling from her eyes no matter how hard she tried to blink them away. 

But her shoulders shook unnaturally, a shuddering inhale that had Ingrid picking up her pace and sitting down right beside Isabel and pulling her into her arms as soon as she noticed how upset she was. 

Silently, she placed a thoughtful kiss on the crown of her head, her heart breaking at the silent tears, at Isabel's defeated demeanour. 

No toddler should know how to cry silently. 

"What's wrong, Is?"

At her words, Isabel promptly spun around in Ingrid's arms, collapsing into her and crying audibly, her entire body weight relying on the Norwegian to be held.

"Mami sad, Ingrid. I'm sad too!"

Her voice was broken and Ingrid’s heart dropped at the sound of it. 

It wasn’t hard to leave, understanding that Isabel needed to get out of the apartment, that she needed to be away from the inconsolable Mapi who could still be heard crying in the kitchen. 

So she left, slipping out the front door and carrying Isabel down to the street, holding her tight as she cried, walking over to the park. 

By the time they reached their familiar bench, her cries had weakened, only releasing quiet puffs of air every few moments as she relished in the comfort of Ingrid’s arms. 

The Norwegian sat down, loosening her grip on the toddler and manoeuvring her so that they were looking right at each other. Ingrid’s frown was light and her hands were soft as she reached out and wiped the tears away from Isabel’s wet cheeks, cupping her face when she was done. 

Words failed the defender as she looked at the toddler, her uncanny resemblance to Mapi heightened in her upset state. 

She matched her mother perfectly, Ingrid thought, trying to avoid that voice in the back of her head that she would never be enough. Their smiles were identical and their laughs sounded the same. They both carried the same exasperated sigh, the confused frown and those doe eyes that were impossible to say no to. But they carried the same tears, the same cries. 

Mapi’s emotions were often reflected in her daughter, whether it was happiness, excitement, fear, sadness. Isabel was smart - emotionally intelligent. It was like she always knew exactly how her Mami was feeling, even if she wasn’t old enough to understand why, to understand what those feelings were. 

This was one of those times when she had no idea what this sadness meant. She could clearly feel the sadness, feel her mother was sad. But she wasn’t even two yet, how could she possibly be expected to process those emotions like someone years older?

Ingrid wasn’t bad with kids either. There were heaps of children in her family; cousins, nieces, nephews. She’d been there throughout all of their childhoods, able to comfort them and soothe them enough until their parents came back. 

But Isabel’s sadness was completely new territory, there was no waiting for Mapi to arrive because Ingrid knew she wouldn’t. It was up to her to calm down the child but for the first time, she was completely stumped. 

She didn’t know what she could say to calm her down. She didn’t know how Isabel felt, she was too young to be able to express her emotions, to talk through what she was feeling. 

But this wasn’t a tantrum or a small cry over a minor convenience. This was a meltdown, caused by her overwhelming emotions that she couldn’t quite comprehend. 

“Ingrid…” 

She spoke quietly, leaning into the comfort of the Norwegian’s hands on her face. 

Ingrid nodded, encouraging the child to continue. 

“Why my Papi a rock?” 

The Norwegian’s face softened, her heart sinking as she tried to subtly release an exhale that she had been holding in. 

Unsure what she was going to say, she opened her mouth. But Isabel was too quick, raising her voice another time. 

“Why Mami sad at rock?”

“Is…” 

The child looked up at her, eyes shining with unshed tears, pure innocence reflected in her eyes, her features. 

“Isabel. Your Papi, he’s not a rock. Your Papi was a person, a very good person.”

The child frowned, confusion etched deep into her features. Ingrid thought she seemed entirely too concerned for a not quite two year old. 

“He died before you were born though, Is. Mami is sad today because she misses him. She misses your Papi.”

She doubted Isabel would even understand what she was trying to say. She didn’t know when children were supposed to understand the concept of death, the concept of life. 

Definitely not before the age of two. 

So Ingrid decided to try to move away from the topic, her new goal just to bring a smile back onto Isabel’s face. It was the least she could do, really. 

“But it’s ok, Is, because you have Mami and you have me and you have Alexia and you have Leila and Patri and Pina! You love all of those people don’t you?”

Isabel nodded easily, a smile creeping onto her face. 

“I love them so much. Especially Mami. And you, Ingrid!” 

Ingrid chuckled, her laughs a superficial cover of the anxieties and concern she felt. Because Isabel was right here calming down in her arms, but she had no idea of the state of Mapi, she had no idea how long this happiness would last. 

“And everyone I just mentioned loves you too. And your Papi, he loves you as well but he loves you from somewhere else. You have people everywhere loving you!” 

Ingrid beamed, trying to make the conversation feel more lighthearted. It was a successful attempt, apparently, because Isabel replicated her smile and turned herself around, sitting back down in Ingrid’s lap and leaning into her chest. 

“I love you Ingrid.”

The Norwegian could only smile sadly, planting a thoughtful kiss on Isabel’s head. 

~~~~~~

Mapi’s head was a mess, Alexia had realised. Her emotions all over the place, her priorities set in a weird and confusing line. 

The tears had eventually ran out and she was clearly exhausted, her head in Alexia’s lap as the blonde spoke softly. The familiar Spanish was a comfort to Mapi’s ears, the words meaningful, flooded with emotion.

“You need to worry about what is important right now,” Alexia had murmured, her hands combing through Mapi’s hair. It was reminiscent of how the centre back calmed her own daughter, soft hands and quiet words. 

It was reminiscent of how Mapi’s own mother used to soothe her, nostalgic and comforting. 

“Luis is important, of course he is. But he’s gone, Maria. If you’re going to worry about anything it has to be yourself, it has to be Isabel. You have to think about Ingrid, how to prioritise your relationship on top of everything else.”

Alexia shook her head at that, sighing almost silently. 

“Ingrid will try not to let you focus on her, but you have to try. You have to show her how much you love her like I know you do. That she’s your person.”

Mapi looked up at Alexia, her forehead wrinkling as she frowned. 

“She… she doesn’t know that?”

“She does know that, of course she does. But sometimes you need to put her first. Sometimes she needs you the most. Sometimes, she needs you more than Isabel does. She wants to know all of you, Mapi, even this part. She wants to understand your grief, to know what to do when you are having a hard time. She wants me to look after Isabel while she comforts you because she loves you. You are her person, just like she is yours.”

Mapi frowned again, swallowing back the tears that threatened to fill up her eyes. Because Ingrid was everything to her, of course she was. She was the person that Mapi loved more than anyone, the first person she had ever really and truly fallen in love with. But Alexia was right. More often than not, her attention was pulled away from Ingrid, Isabel making an appearance. Maybe she was hungry, thirsty, tired. She could have been bored or overexcited or maybe she just couldn’t sleep. 

Because Isabel was her baby girl, her last connection to Luis; her last connection to her person before Ingrid. 

It was somewhat painful for Mapi to consider how these small things would have hurt the Norwegian, how they would have all built up over time, building Ingrid’s thick skin, the impenetrable strength and sometimes superficial happiness that the Spaniard wished to break down.

“What do I do, Ale?”

Her voice broke and Alexia pulled her upwards, straight into a hug. 

“You talk to her.”

Mapi nodded, falling back down to her lying position on the sofa, the exhaustion of the day overcoming her despite it only being 12pm. 

Alexia could tell the exact moment she fell asleep, her breathing evening out and her body finally relaxing. 

The midfielder had expected something like this to happen today. She knew that Luis’ death was a date engraved in her friend’s mind, one that could never pass without any upset, any thought. 

It was only the second anniversary so of course it would bring up all of the emotions that were left and ignored two years ago, Mapi’s grief pushed away by the little baby Isabel. The same thing had happened a year ago and the midfielder knew it would happen again in another year. 

Only she hoped she wouldn’t be needed in a years time, similar to how she had hoped that she wasn’t required this year. 

She had been somewhat surprised and just a little bit disappointed when she received Ingrid’s text, having hoped that Mapi finally would have spoken to her girlfriend about it, that Ingrid would have expected it and known exactly what she needed to do. It was abundantly clear, however, that it was not the case. 

Ingrid’s terrified and bewildered facial expression was one piece of evidence, but so was Mapi’s silence, her heavy breathing and her complete refusal to speak while the Norwegian was in the room. 

She was disappointed, really. She felt guilt overcome her as she watched Ingrid slip out of the room, a look of pure defeat written all over her face as she accepted that there was nothing she could do to help Mapi. 

Mapi who was an emotional wreck, who needed support and who just needed to let everything out for once. 

Mapi, who needed her girlfriend’s comfort but didn’t know how to ask for it, couldn’t bring herself to ask for it. 

Alexia knew that the Norwegian would have given it to her without a second thought. 

It was all she could think about as Ingrid walked back through the door, Isabel’s hand tight in hers as her eyes scanned the room and landed on the sleeping Mapi in Alexia’s lap. 

Isabel inspected her quietly, satisfied with her sleeping body on the sofa. She was with Alexia and Alexia made people happy. She was sure Mapi would be happy now, so she scampered out of the lounge and into the laundry where she knew Bagheera would be waiting. 

Ingrid was less convinced, sitting beside Alexia with concern written all over her face. 

“She’ll be alright.” Alexia whispered her words softly, an attempt to make the Norwegian feel better. She didn’t expect Ingrid’s eyes to fill up with tears, her head falling into her hands. 

“Why doesn’t she talk to me about any of this?”

Her voice sounded defeated, frustrated. Her watery eyes looked back up towards Alexia and the midfielder could easily see the anguish in her eyes. 

“She’s bad at talking about it, embarrassed by it. She doesn’t like to feel all these emotions so she just pushes them away. But they come back every now and again and she has no idea how to deal with it. I try telling her that it’s normal, she shouldn’t feel embarrassed but she doesn’t listen. It makes her feel weak, she said. You saw her earlier too, she just shuts down. I think it’s because she just doesn’t know what else she can do so she turns into a robot of sorts, on autopilot to get things done. And then someone will come and see straight through her and it’s like she breaks.”

Alexia’s eyes were watering, her hand coming to rest on Mapi’s head. 

“But she loves you so much, Ingrid. More than I’ve ever seen her love anyone before. I know she wants to talk to you about all this, she wishes she could just let it all out. We’ve discussed it before, what she could say, how she could say it. She’ll call me the next day and say she chickened out, she couldn’t bring herself to go through it all. It’s mentally exhausting, I think.  She used to be so confident in herself, she didn’t care about anything but her happiness and the happiness of the people around her. She was the person who would cheer everyone else up, make us smile and laugh. She’s still that person, that’s the one that we see everyday. But she never learnt how to grieve or how to let other people cheer her up and this is what happened because of it.”

Ingrid was quiet for a few moments, her eyes focussed on Mapi’s sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful, her golden brown hair falling over her face, completely covering her tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes. 

“Why didn’t you help her?���

She knew it wasn’t Alexia’s fault; she knew that the midfielder beside her would have done whatever she thought was right. But part of the Norwegian thought that if she had learned what to do with her emotions two years ago when Luis died, everything would be easier now. Everything would be easier for everyone. 

“She just wouldn’t let us. I regret it every day, Ingrid. ”

~~~~~~

It wasn’t long before Alexia left, leaving Ingrid with a sleeping Mapi and taking the almost two year old back to her house with her. 

They didn’t want Isabel to be able to understand what was going on, they didn’t want her to feel those sad emotions when she was entirely incapable of understanding why she suddenly felt so sad. 

So it was Ingrid’s face that Mapi woke up to, the familiar green piercing straight through her, a sad expression all over her face. 

“Ingrid.”

Her voice was hoarse, her words scratchy and her eyes swollen. It had been a difficult few hours and she felt entirely incapable of having the conversation that she knew Ingrid wanted to have. 

“I don’t know how… how do I even start?”

But it seemed she was wrong as Ingrid shook her head, her arms wrapping the Spaniard up in a tight hug as she sat up from her horizontal position. 

“No, you don’t need to. Not right now. You’re exhausted, physically and emotionally and I don’t want to talk now. I want you to be ok, I want to make you feel ok.”

Mapi didn’t know it, but the Norwegian’s words were exactly what she needed. Ingrid was exactly what she needed. 

Her emotional perception, the unique ability she had to be so aware of how everyone felt at any given time. It was one of her qualities that Mapi loved the most, one of the things that was so intriguing, so alluring about the defender. 

“What can I do to make you feel ok?”

Mapi smiled weakly, trying to bite back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. It wasn’t just sadness this time, but gratitude, love. Because Ingrid was perfect even when the centre back knew she had been the opposite of that. And despite all of Mapi’s own personal flaws, Ingrid still loved her. 

And if everything else fell apart, Mapi knew that her love would be more than enough. 

“You being here makes me feel ok.”

Ingrid smiled into the embrace, only releasing the hug when Mapi’s grip on her loosened. 

“Isabel is at Alexia’s and she will be there all night. She shouldn’t be in this environment when you are so upset, not when she’s so young. So it’s just you and me, whatever you want to do.”

Mapi nodded easily, somewhat relieved that her daughter was away from all this. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.”

The evening was a slow one, relaxed and quiet in the calm apartment. They weaved around each other in the kitchen as they cooked with a practised ease, dinner cooked and plated up seamlessly. 

Conversation as they ate was minimal, the Spaniard clearly distracted and the Norwegian happy to focus on her own food. 

“I… I need to talk to you, Ingrid. Not right now, but soon. Maybe tomorrow. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say in a way that makes sense. It’s… hard for me, hard to talk about… it.”

The Norwegian’s attention was captured at the sound of Mapi’s voice, instantly nodding with a comforting smile on her face. 

“I know it’s hard. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to tell me anything.”

But the Spaniard disagreed, shaking her head quickly. 

“It’s not pressure, I want you to know everything.”

Ingrid’s forehead creased, her eyebrows drawing together as she frowned. 

“But why? Why do you want to go through it all again with yet another person if you don’t have to?”

It was Mapi’s turn to frown, her head shaking as she let out a quiet exhale. 

“I haven’t ever gone through everything with anyone. Alexia knows a lot, sure. I know she’s told you what she knows. I want you to know everything. Because I love you more than anything and for you to love me like that you have to know everything, you have to see all my faults, everything that I’m ashamed of.”

Ingrid stopped the tears from forming before they had a chance to materialise in her eyes, but Mapi could tell she was stopping herself from crying by the way her eyes blinked away the invisible tears. 

“What’s wrong?”

Her voice was incredibly soft, her Spanish lilt calming, comforting.

“I don’t think there’s anything you could say that would change the way I love you. I couldn’t love you any more than I do and there’s nothing that will ever make me love you any less. I wish you would understand that sadness and grief isn’t a weakness or a fault, it’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s natural yet it takes a completely different path in every single person. You’re not different, Maria. You’re not weak. The opposite of weak, really. I love you for who you are, because you are funny, you’re kind, you’re caring. You look after people and you’re an incredible mother. I love you because you are strong, one of the strongest people I have ever met. The love I have for you is not… despite anything, there’s nothing that I would change because you’re perfect. So sure, tell me everything because I will listen but it will not change a single thing. Don’t tell me that I can’t love you before I know because I do, so much.”

“Thank you.” Mapi sniffled, her voice thready as she nodded at Ingrid, her eyes dropping back down to her plate in front of her. 

It was exactly what she needed to hear. 

~~~~~~

“Mami!” 

Despite Ingrid’s protests in the kitchen, Isabel bounded into their bedroom, bouncing up onto the bed right beside a sleeping Mapi. 

“Isabel! I said not to wake her up!” 

Ingrid frowned from her spot at the bedroom door, her forehead creasing further at Isabel’s defiant expression. The toddler turned back towards Mapi, shaking her shoulder rapidly. 

“Mami! Mami!” 

Ingrid rolled her eyes, releasing a loud sigh and shaking her head as the Spaniard rolled over, groaning as she opened her eyes. 

The past few days had been rough and Ingrid was sure Mapi hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep each day. The Norwegian was awoken constantly by the sound of her cries or her restless movements in the bed, but had stopped asking if she was ok after seeing the guilt on Mapi’s face at waking her up. 

It was an obvious question anyway, Mapi clearly was not ok.

She had been distant, often unfocused. The Norwegian had to take over the parenting ropes and she hadn’t left the Spaniard’s apartment, helping with cooking and cleaning and the other mundane housework that Mapi just didn’t have the energy to do. 

She would say a few words over meals, and quiet murmurs of gratitude throughout the day. Ingrid didn’t know how rapidly her notes app was filling up, full of dot points about how and what she would say to Ingrid. When she could bring up that conversation that she was so desperate yet so hesitant to have. 

“Morning Is.” The Spaniard rolled over, opening her arms up for the toddler as she fell into them, snuggling easily into her mother. 

“Mornin’ Mami!” 

Mapi smiled, looking over at Ingrid in the doorway and motioning for her to come and join them on the bed. Naturally, the Norwegian moved towards them, sitting up beside Mapi and resting her head on the centre back’s shoulder. 

“We were awake very early this morning, weren’t we Is?’

She rolled her eyes as the child nodded and Mapi bit back a laugh, squeezing Isabel softly. 

“You should have woken me.” Mapi smiled, planting a kiss on the side of Ingrid’s head, ignoring her scoff. 

“Ingrid said don’t wake you up, Mami!” Isabel interjected again, looking up at her mother. “But I missed you!” 

Mapi could only chuckle, planting a kiss on her child’s head. “I missed you too, my Is!”

It was a slow day, but one full of quiet laughter and happiness. The small family of three spent the late morning hours in bed, before getting up and heading down to the park and tiring the toddler out. She was exhausted by the time they got back, passing out on the sofa as Ingrid took off her shoes and Mapi scrubbed the mud out of her jacket. 

The girl had been put to bed by the time Mapi had returned from the laundry, Ingrid sat on the sofa with the remote in her hand. 

“What do you want to watch?”

She had heard Mapi walking towards the lounge room, apparently. The Spaniard didn’t enter immediately, instead steadying herself on the doorframe and taking a deep breath. 

The time had come, she realised. She couldn’t justify pushing this conversation away any longer, pretending that she wasn’t thinking about it when truthfully it was at the top of her mind at all times. 

She knew it wasn’t an easy conversation to have and she knew that it was going to be hard to bring it up. But that difficulty won’t ever go away, no matter how long she leaves it. If anything it will get harder over time because time gives her fears and anxieties an opportunity to grow, an opportunity to overcome her. 

And she was completely adamant that that would not happen. She would not be overcome by those terrors ever again. 

She realised she had paused in the doorway for too long when Ingrid turned around, a small frown settling on her face. 

“Are you ok?”

Mapi nodded, forcing a stressed smile onto her face and finally taking those steps inside, sitting herself on the sofa beside Ingrid and taking the remote from her hands. 

“Yes. No, but.. Yeah.” 

“Talk to me.”

And she did. She started at the beginning, all the way back when she was a small child and meeting Luis for the first time. She told Ingrid how they had been glued to each other’s sides forever, how they grew up and nothing ever changed. How grateful she was when Luis followed her to Barcelona, moving into his own apartment just a five minute walk away. 

The Spaniard reminisced on times where they would eat dinner on the floor of his unfinished apartment, takeaway boxes empty but the room still full of happiness and laughter. She showed Ingrid her tattoo, the little girl and boy on the playground that she had gotten to match with Luis. 

It was his first and only tattoo and he had only trusted Mapi to give it to him. She knew she had to get one the same and it was something they had treasured. A secret of sorts, a little thing that almost nobody knew about. 

The centre back explained how he had always been a paternal person, all the way back when they were those little kids on the playground. He would look out for everyone, act all big and strong to protect his friends even when he felt equally as terrified. He was the person that everyone went to as they got a bit older, his emotional nature and calm demeanour always popular among their peers. 

She told Ingrid that she always felt so lucky that even though he was so popular, she was still his best friend. She was always his number one and that only ever changed when Isabel came along. 

Isabel who was just as lovely as her boyfriend, another person that Mapi learned to love. 

Another person who proved time and time again that she was a mother. 

So she lamented on the heartbreak that the young couple experienced when they realised they couldn’t have a child, that parenthood seemed almost impossible. 

She explained her entire thought process to the Norwegian, how she debated with herself whether it was worth it to miss so much football during what could have been her peak years. Whether she would ever feel comfortable around a child that was half of her DNA, a child that she carried for nine months but technically didn’t belong to her. 

But Luis’ happiness was always the most important thing and when he rang her up for the 10th night in a row in tears, her decision was made for her. 

She told Ingrid how long it took to convince the couple to let her carry their child, having to go through the same arguments that she had with herself only weeks earlier, having to come up with rebuttals to their incredibly valid points. 

But it had only taken an emotional monologue from the Spaniard to convince them, all three of them sat in tears as they finally agreed to it. 

She talked her through the IVF process, every high and every low that she experienced. How easy the pregnancy was at the beginning, the only symptom her small bump and minor cravings. 

But she had Luis and she had Isabel at that point, both of them so incredibly grateful that they practically waited on the centre back’s hand and foot. It annoyed her, really, so she had kicked them out of her apartment, told them to only come over if she called them. 

For the most part, they respected that, only visiting once a week unless Mapi called them for the company. 

She admitted how much she regretted that deal, how she wished that she made them sit with her all day every day. 

Maybe then they wouldn’t have been in the car that day, maybe they would have been safe and sound in Mapi’s apartment. 

She couldn’t have known that their trip to Madrid would be fatal, there was no way of being able to foresee that and to stop them from going. 

Tears started to slip down her cheeks as she recalled what they told her over the phone, how both Isabel and Luis had been killed on impact. A drunk driver, it was, a drunk driver who was miraculously left unscathed. 

She talked Ingrid through her thoughts that followed the phone call, after she had sobbed and screamed. Once the tears had finally ceased and an unsettling silence fell upon her apartment. 

She felt lost, she felt alone. She wanted to call Luis because he was the person that made her feel better in these times, he was her company when it felt like her entire world was falling apart. 

But of course she couldn’t call Luis. She should have called someone else, her mother, her brother. Alexia, even. But that would be replacing her best friend, something she couldn’t bring herself to do. Not so soon after he had died. Not when the wound was so fresh, not before she even got the chance to process it. 

She admitted to her girlfriend that she still hadn’t really processed it, that it was still a work in progress. His death was one she would never understand, she didn’t think she ever would fully process the idea that he was gone. 

Ingrid let tears spill from her eyes as Mapi remembered how lonely she was for the next few weeks, how she realised that now she had this child that she was just supposed to be able to raise. How she felt entirely unprepared, unfit to be a mother, unequipped to be able to raise a child to a standard that Luis would be happy with. 

How she doubted herself even before Isabel was born.

When she gave birth it got so much harder, everything seemed so impossible and she couldn’t think about anything else other than that little life in her arms. 

She had fallen in love with the baby immediately, guilt overcoming her at her selfish gratitude that Isabel was a living reminder of Luis, she was someone that Mapi would always have. A living being that literally carried her father around with her. 

She told Ingrid how she saw his eyes as soon as they opened, the tape over her shattered heart doing little to protect it when it was forcefully thrown back on the ground at the reminder of everything she had lost. 

But as she spent more and more time with Isabel, as she watched the little girl grow up she could feel her heart building itself back together, little pieces at a time supergluing themselves together, creating an indestructible structure. 

Isabel had been the reason her heart was being fixed, the reason that she felt like she could finally breathe again, finally reunited with the organ that pumped the blood around her body, the organ that made her feel alive. 

She smiled through the tears as she recalled how alive she felt when Isabel took her first steps, when her first words tumbled right out of her mouth. As the child laughed, as she played with the cat. As she grew up into a child, something for Mapi to love, to be so incredibly proud of. 

Because Luis was gone and that was something that Mapi would never be ok with. 

But he left her the greatest gift of all time, like he knew that his best friend wouldn’t be ok without him. 

And similar to everything else he had done for Mapi through their lives, this gift, his daughter, had made sure that the blood never stopped pumping, that every single fragment of her shattered heart was still there, ready and waiting for its turn to be glued back into place. 

Isabel had done a good job of orchestrating the reconstruction, even if she had no idea what she was doing. 

“But then you came along, Ingrid, and you fixed my heart too.”

~~~~~~

alright this was very long

i've proofread a couple times and kinda hate this but it's as good as it will get :)

please let me know what you think! send me anything else you would like to see as well.

and i apologise for this taking so long, i have been very busy with uni (as usual) but on top of that i had surgery on my knee almost a week ago so am very tired and in a fair amount of pain at the minute

have a good day

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 6 - Next

"Do you like art exhibitions? It has opened one by my favorite artist."

You mentioned handing a brochure to Curly.

Curly: "Oh, I didn't know you liked art."

He unfolded the brochure to start looking at the details of the exhibition.

"What does that mean?"

Curly: "Ah- nothing, nothing... He's a very reserved artist, huh? 'The man who never shows faces, after years brings his new collection', sounds great."

"I'm surprised he brought another collection, he had been inactive for years," you smiled, "Here are some examples of old and somewhat popular works, what do you think?"

You pointed to some images in a collage that were in the brochure of previous exhibitions.

There was a mix of realism, abstract paintings, and cartoon-like styles.

Curly: "He has... many styles, it's incredible. I would love to go see his works."

"I'm glad to hear that because~ I already have two tickets for their exhibition~"

You showed him the tickets excitedly and handed him his.

In the afternoon, you headed to the exhibition and entered the building. There were many people admiring the paintings; there were all sizes and styles, even the children were entertained by the cartoon-like paintings, surely a great collection.

There was one detail that always caught everyone's attention: in his paintings, he never showed the faces of those he painted, perhaps a way to maintain their anonymity.

Faces covered with plants, with careless strokes, hats, or even covering themselves with hands, veils, or the person being turned away, among other things.

Curly stopped to look at one in particular, which he felt was too personal.

The artwork was called "A Winner Among So Many Losses."

It was a torso without a head, with a background of a starry night, as if it were submerged in space, and four bright stars formed the silhouette of its head.

X: "What happened to those people was horrible. Don't you think? I wonder if anyone understands the meaning of this painting, or if they have already forgotten that tragedy."

An elderly man in a wheelchair had stopped beside him, looking at the painting with a relaxed smile.

X: "People tend to forget events very quickly, it's good that someone frames them so they can be remembered, because that way those lost people will always be present in our minds." 

"Curly! I didn't realize you had stopped," you returned to his side and observed the man next to him.

Soon a woman came running towards you and took the man's chair, scolding him for going off on his own, to which the man just laughed and gently patted the woman's face, making her smile.

They both said goodbye to continue viewing the exhibition on their own, while you noticed how Curly remained staring at the painting in front of him.

Curly: "It's me. A faceless captain, lost, and the only one who will have the memory of his crew. The only captain who didn't sink with his ship and now bears the face of shame."

"Okay, okay, I think you're being too critical over a single painting," you patted his shoulders "Besides, their families will always remember them."

Curly: "Their families... What must they think of me?"

"They must feel pain... Resentment... They must be thinking, 'why did he come back and my daughter, or son, didn't?' Being a survivor is difficult, many will be happy for you, but others... They will only suffer because their loved one was n't the one who survived... As if you were to blame for something just because you're still alive."

You rested your cheek on his shoulder and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, trying to draw his attention away from the painting.

Curly: "...I should... contact them"

"If that makes you feel better... I can help you."

You smiled when he slowly took his gaze away from that painting to walk by your side and continue looking at the other works in the exhibition.

Curly: "I understand why you like this artist so much... He has such detailed works and they evoke a lot of emotions in you."

"I'm glad to have someone who shares that thought! You know? I could never bring my sister here to appreciate these paintings, she always said she didn't have time... And then I stopped insisting."

Curly: "I think I remember... That she used to get angry when she saw ads about these exhibitions. She said she hated that artist because she didn't like that he didn't do faces, and it made her nervous and gave her chills."

"It's just that she is like you were, she only saw the general image, didn't go deeper, never gave it a chance. If she saw something and didn't like it, she refused to see the beauty in it..."

You stopped in front of a painting and sighed.

Although you didn't make any comment about it, you soon continued walking while Curly observed that piece called "Beautiful Smile on a Perfect Day."

It was a bride holding a man's arm, resting her head on his shoulder; the irony of that painting was that the bride wore a veil and no smile could be seen on her face.

He approached and tried to focus his gaze on the bride's face, noticing that the veil was not completely solid; if you looked closely, you could see the bride's face, with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips. 

"Curly! You're lagging behind again." 

Before he could see the woman's face in the painting better, he walked away and hurried to join you. 

That woman looked familiar to him...

[moosesarecute]

December 17th

December Masterlist

Masterlist

Her day had gone to exploring her home. She had been all over trying to find something that might restart her memory, but she couldn’t.

The toys she played with as a child, the kitchen she and her mother baked in and the library where she spent most of her time. None of them gave her any clues of her life before.

It gave Annette an uneasy feeling.

She felt alone and scared. The people who called themselves her family were nice enough, but she couldn’t trust them completely yet.

She and Cathrine, her mother, had been talking the entire day. She had been stroking Annette’s hair and told them about their life. She spoke about how Annette was adopted. That while it was usual for fae to struggle getting children, Cathrine and Bru just couldn’t live without a child.

When she was first born and sent to an orphanage, it didn’t take long before they found her and knew she was the one. Cathrine cried talking about it.

Her mother at least cared about her, Annette concluded with. Nothing to be worried about with her. The rest of her family had kept a bigger distance. Cathrine said it was to not overwhelm her.

When night arrived, Cathrine tucked Annette into bed. She told her to make sure she stayed worm and gave her some of her medicine. It tasted just as bad as before, but she got it down.

However, when Cathrine left, Annette didn’t feel like sleeping.

She quietly stood up from the bed and started to explore her room a little more. She looked at the books and toys and yarn, but she felt no connection to it. She found more of her stuff in boxes stored under her bed. She went through each and every one-off them, but didn’t find anything particularly interesting until the last box.

It had a backpack in it. It looked well made and sturdy. But it also looked like it had been used a lot. Maybe this was the backpack she used when she last was out on her adventures? She knew it was hers. She didn’t know why, but she just knew it.

She opened the backpack and found many bottles of red liquid and a pile of paper. She picked of the papers first. One piece of paper was folded around the others. She read it first:

Winterberry juice for memory loss. Drink as much as you can every day.

And some reading for the journey. Hope you find what you need in these letters.

Good luck,

Nick

Annette decided to drink the juice. It tasted amazing. Both sweet and tangy from the berry. She drank some of it and then picked up the rest of the pile of papers. She picked up the first one. It was covered in tearstains, but other than that it was beautiful. The handwriting was precise and carefully done. Annette started reading.

My dearest Y/N,

It’s been over three years. This is the third December without you, and it haven’t become easier.

Rhys and Cass are forcing me to go to therapy. My therapist, Jonathan, suggested I write you letters, so that’s what I’m doing.

You have missed so much, my light. Both Rhys and Cass have found their mates. Their names are Feyre and Nesta. They are sisters and used to be human, but that’s a story too long for letters. I promise I’ll explain all to you when if you come back to me. Feyre was the girl that saved all of Prythian from Amarantha. Rhys made her his High Lady and they even have a son, Nyx. And Nesta and some of her friends have become Valkyries. She and Cassian are always at each other’s throats, but they love each other. You would have loved them too, I’m sure of it.

Mor and Amren have also found their loves. Which means I’m constantly surrounded by couples.

I’m happy for them, I truly am, but I can’t help but feel like it’s a little unfair. Why do we have to be apart?

I miss you, my love. I honestly feel lost in this world without you. I’ve been counting days since you disappeared, and each day feels heavier on my heart.

The shadows also miss you. They have never been as poorly behaved as now. Some days I wake up from them screaming to get you back, other days they refuse to listen or talk to me.

All our memories together are what keeps me going, but I’m not sure how much longer I’ll last in this life without you. I need your soft smiles and warm embrace to get me through this. I know I won’t, but deep down I still have hope that I’ll be able to hold you once again. Hold you, and never let go.

I love you, Y/N. I have loved you all my life and I will keep loving you till the day my soul no longer exists.

x Your Shadow

The first thing Annette noticed was that she really wanted to know what happened to Y/N and who her shadow was. The second thing was that she felt sort of connected to the names. Rhys, Cassian, Mor and Amren felt like names she knew. Feyre and Nesta, she didn’t feel connected to, but from the way they were written about in the letters, she knew that they were kind.

Annette wasted no time picking up the next letter It was also covered in tearstains. It seemed like most of them were.

My dearest Y/N,

Jo asked me today to write about what our life would be like.

And even though I did like he asked, it only brought out painful emotions. I hate having to imagine this. I want it to be true. To be our real life.

I wanted us to buy a house. A house where we can make our own home. So that we can choose everything ourselves.

I wanted us to have a family. We never spoke about kids. Both of us knew that a war was coming and that we would need to go through a lifetime of terror before we could bring babes into this world.

I want us to fly together. Fly to work, fly to family dinner, fly as exercise, fly as fun. Flying have always been when I’ve felt the freest and I know you feel similar, but without you beside me, it feels wrong. So wrong. I have multiple times thrown up from flying without you.

I want us to be happy.

I want us to fight, and argue, and laugh, and cry, and smile. I want it all.

Please come back to me.

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

I think therapy is helping a little.

I thought about you yesterday without crying. Do you remember our first dance? Not our first as a couple, but our first one ever?

Sneaking around in the woods behind Windhaven and dancing to the song from the shadows swirling around us. Our feet making the snow crunch beneath us.

If only the bond had snapped earlier or if I was just a little braver. I would have danced with you every moment I could. You deserve to be danced with you too. I’m glad we’re not longer in Windhaven. You deserved so much better than that camp.

You’re my princess. You should dance around in the ballgowns you make, but no, you always sold away the most beautiful ones.

I still dream about the blue gown you wore on your first Starfall as a couple. I wish I could see you in it again some time.

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

I think the time has come. I’ve finally gone crazy. I felt you. I’m sure I did. But I couldn’t get to you. Please tell me where you are so that I can get you home. Please tell me.

Are you out there?

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

Family dinner is hard without you. I always imagine you sitting besides me and it gets a little better.

Cassian spilled soup all over the floor yesterday. That’s nothing unusual, but it was all over a new carpet Feyre just bought. Feyre was about to become very angry when Nyx started laughing louder than ever before. Cassian is now Nyx’s favourite person.

I’m convinced that if Nyx knew you, you would outrank Cassian very quickly. I don’t know how much he knows about his auntie Y/N, but I know you would be the best aunt he could ever wish for. I’ll start telling him more about you when I can talk about you without crying.

x Your Shadow

My dearest Y/N

The shadows miss you too. They’ve been trying to braid my hair lately. It’s like they miss helping you with yours. I don’t think they understand that you’re gone forever. It’s like they’re in denial. It’s not that different from what I’m doing, but still, they shouldn’t have these complex feelings. I wish I would tell them that you’ll be back soon.

Sometimes the only thing they do is to scream in my head. I think they believe too that you’re out there, but I just can’t get my hopes up. Please give me or the shadows a sign and we’ll be there. I promise.

x Your Shadow

Annette was crying now. The letters were so full of grief she just wanted to hug this Shadow and tell him that everything would be alright.

She drank a little more of the winterberry juice. As she gulped it down, she felt her head grow lighter.

My dearest Y/N

It’s snowing. A lot. It’s like the sky is falling down in white. I can almost image you running around with your snow-zoomies. It’s like my entire body just expects you to sneak up behind me and dump way too much snow on me. The shadows have tried to do it, but it just isn’t the same.

Nyx spoke about the Winter Lights today. He told us that a friend from his kindergarten had painted them. I left the room before anyone continued speaking. I haven’t seen the lights since you left. It used to be such a good memory, but now it only brings pain. Our first kiss, my love. Under the Winter Lights after everyone else had gone inside. You always insisted to watch them until they had danced finished.

Maybe I’ll try to do that this year. I’ll do my best.

x Your Shadow

Imagine having your first kiss together under the Winter Lights. Annette’s heart melted at the thought. It felt right. She would love to experience that.

Annette picked up the last letter. It was filled with even more tearstains than the others. She drank the rest of the winterberry juice before she started to read.  

My dearest Y/N,

I have understood now that I must let you go.

Madja and Jonathan believe you might me out there, but I won’t survive if I get my hopes up now only for them to be crushed once more. I want to, but I just can’t. It’s too much.

My sweet, beautiful, amazing, wonderful, thoughtful mate. I love you so much and it hurts so much to have to do this, but it’s what you would have wanted.

I’m going to try to make this a good Winter Solstice. I’m going to keep our traditions alive. I’m going to make a snowfae, I’m going to have the snowball fight and I’m going to make cookies and hot chocolate to stay on the counter every second of every day. I’m going to try my absolute best to be happy. Even if you aren’t here to see it.

I don’t think I can go to see Jonathan any longer. Even though therapy has helped, I think Jonathan is wrong for me. I’ll se if I can find anyone else after Winter Solstice, but right now I need a break.

I’m also going to take a break from these letters. I might start with them again soon, but for right now, I need to put you behind me. I hope this is the best decision, but I have no idea what I’m doing.

My dearest Y/N. I will forever long for the life he had planned. I will forever sit with the feeling that half of my heart is yet to come home.

x Azriel, I’ll always be your shadow

It was his name that did it. His beautiful and kind name. The name you had grown that fond of throughout your life.

It was the name that made you smile, cry and feel safe all at once. It was a name that brought you so many emotions that you didn’t know how to act.

It was the name of your person.

Because you knew now that you aren’t Annette, 254 years old from the continent.

You are Y/N, 540 years old from Windhaven, and last but definitely not least. You are Y/N the proud mate of Azriel Shadowsinger.

Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld @stqrgirlies-blog @scoliobean

Let me know if you want to be added!

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[byunpum]

My lost child…

Pair: Aunt Sully human x Spider Socorro (mother and son)

Warning: None. Cute, Kinda sad, Y/N being a good mother.

+REQUEST "Here"+

Note: My baby spider need love and attention. I got sentimental doing this writing. Auntie Y/N would be the perfect mother for him.

"Are you sure you want to keep this baby?" says norm, as you hold spider in your arms, a baby just 10 months old. The first time you saw this baby was in the arms of Socorro, a coworker. You were from the research area, but you still shared with other friends from other areas of work. And it was also the first time you saw the child of your husband's lover Miles Quaritch, who had betrayed you with this woman a few months ago.

She had a smile from ear to ear, showing her son to the others, with an air of self-satisfaction. She gave you a few glances as she laughed. You barely approach the group of ladies now surrounding the newborn. You decide to turn around and go back to the laboratories, you had a lot of work to do and the mission to escape to a safe area, in order to save the Omaticaya was your priority at the moment. After the war, many people were sent to earth, but some were too young to travel.

And there you were holding a baby that reminded you of all the pain you once had. But, what was this child's fault? None. "Yes…I'll take care of him" you say, pulling the spider closer to your chest. Norm watches you, he has been by your side all along, he knows how you feel. But he also knows your heart is so big. "You and your brother Jake have a heart like a chicken," he jokes. Norm knows he'll be safe with you.

That same night you are with spider, in your room. A small room, which had a very small bunk bed. A small dresser and a mirror next to it. You had to decorate it so it would be perfect for a baby. You are preparing a kind of nest with the sheets, you wanted him to sleep next to you. "ba b aba" spider barks, as you set up. "You're in the mood to talk, huh?" you laugh, as you reach over and give him a kiss on the cheeks. And you lay him down next to you, as you wrap him in your blanket. Your face is close to his face, while his cute little hands touch and caress your cheeks. As he lets out a few laughs. "You're a very happy baby… aren't you" you speak, stroking his golden curls. Spider begins to cry a little, and you pull him to your chest so that his head rests on your chest, so that he can hear your heartbeat.

This hurt you so much…you were not able to have children on your own, you had so many pregnancy losses that you had already lost all hope of being a mother. This was one of the many reasons why Quaritch had decided to look for another woman to give him what you could never give him. But here you were… caring for a baby that was the image of the betrayal that those two people had done to you. But your heart was not selfish, it was not cruel. It never had been… you couldn't be cruel to a baby who needed you. You needed him.

His little hands squeezed your hands, bringing one of your fingers to his hand. "I will take care of you… forever" you speak, as you stroke your boy's hair. For a moment you come back to reality, and there was spider, scared and hurt. His body was shaking with cold, as he hugged you and his head was pressed against your chest. Even though he was all wet, you could still feel the tears coming down from his eyes. "Mom…I'm scared," says spider, trying to breathe calmly into his oxygen mask.

You hadn't seen your son in the last 4 months since the RDA had kidnapped him, and now he was hugging you so tightly, you felt like he was going to crack a rib. " Darling…I'm here…it's ok. I found you, mommy is here" you speak while hugging your son. As you watch the boat sink into the sea. Your whole family was together, Jake and Neytiri and your nephews. Neteyam was hurt, but he was okay. Everyone hugs each other, while your sight drifts to the water… you almost lost what you loved the most in this life. You feel a hand drag you by the arm, and you see it's Jake. Hugging you and spider. "Here we are…together" Jake says, as the other family members gather to hug them.

Hours later, everyone was at the metkayina clan, in the marui that everyone shared. Neytiri was taking care of neteyam, and your other nephews were talking to each other. Jake had gone to talk to Tonowari and Ronal. While you were tending to spider's wounds, the boy was silently watching you carefully place the medicinal paste on his wounds. With such love and passion. "And how is he? Did you like meeting your father?" you ask him. Spider just says " mm yes" after a while you ask again.

"And you saw pictures of her… of your mom?" you ask, spider swallows hard. "Yes… and they told me about her. I even saw videos" says spider. Your heart squeezes a little, you're sure they told him about her. That they told him how wonderful his mother was, how he was such a wanted child. "It's good that you know who your mother was," you say, a little hurt. Neytiri was listening to the conversation, she knew the pain in your tone of voice. You had always had the feeling that the day would come when Spider would know more about his mother and you would move on.

Spider can see your face of disgust and sadness. The boy comes up to you and hugs you. "He and that woman do not affect my feelings for you. The one who took care of me…who raised me, and loved me is you…mom. My mother Y/N" says spider giving you a smile. You caress his face, and give him a kiss on his forehead. "I love you too my life" you speak. " I love you more…mama" spider rests his face in the crook of your neck.

Jake had returned from talking to Tonowari, as he walked in he saw the scene. Spider was still hugging you, while you stroked his hair. Jake carefully approaches neytiri's side, just as he sits down and begins to speak, the woman speaks. "eywa gives second chances, gives us something we have lost. It doesn't have to come in the best way…but it will always bring two lost souls together…like those two," says Neytiri, pointing at you. Jake is thoughtful for a moment.

"Am I missing something?" asks Jake, Neytiri just laughs and continues to look after Neteyam. Jake takes another look in your direction. You were hugging your son, he had never seen you so happy, your smile was just like his mother's, right there he could understand everything. Eywa always brings together souls that have been lost…always.

[aelenavelaryon]

Robert Baratheon x Reader (pt.2)

Summary: in which the Queen gets her revenge on her husband

The return of dragons came to a surprise for the realm. It was unexpected yet a blessing, especially for Rhaenyra. Finally, dragons returned to the world. Robert was not on board with having them in King's Landing at first but after watching Rhaenyra be happy after the loss of their child he agreed. Robert, despite marrying her without love came to enjoy her company as the two enjoyed making children.

Rhaenyra choose to let her dragons roamed free in a place where they were all away from people, to avoid harming innocent people. Prince Daemon was born in the year 283, near the end of the year. His brother Orys came days after his first name day in 284. In the year 286 came the twins, Aemon and Aemond. Just a year later in 287 she lost a child, it was then that Dragons were reborn.

By 290, Rhaenyra's dragons had grown a lot. The year prior they disappeared and when they returned they were the size of an adult dragon. So, for the first time in centuries a Targaryen finally took to the skies on dragonback. Balerion, the dragon she rode flew her to a part of the Keep that was abandoned and where he kept dragons eggs.

Rhaenyra brought Dragon Keepers to the Keep to help with the dragons and their eggs. The eggs, which were enough to give to each one of her children and brother, were kept warm and ready in the children's room. Finally, after five years of trying for a daughter, a girl finally came. Well, more like two. Rhaena and Helaena came during the summers of 290. By then, her children all had dragons eggs. Prince Daemon had claimed Caraxes, while his brother's hatched their eggs. Orys named his Eros. Aemon named his Moonfyre and Aemond named his Meraxes. Princess Rhaena and Helaena's dragon eggs hatched the same day of their birth.

King Robert threw a feast in honor of their first name day. By then, queen Rhaenyra had given him four sons and two daughters. Princess Rhaena was said to be as wild and defiant as her mother in her youth. Rhaena had the Targaryen hair and eyes, while her twin, princess Helaena had black hair and blue eyes like his father but she was as quiet and calm as her late grandmothers, queen Rhaella and Lady Cassana Baratheon. Robert was a decent king who took the input of his queen. They had a quiet a decent marriage.

Since the day they married Robert kept to his wife's and his own chambers. He slept with no other woman that was not his wife. Some had said he changed for the better and Eddard Stark could attest to that. Rhaenyra's life was good. She had no worries. Everything was just perfect.

The news reached her a few weeks later. Robert Baratheon had slept with Cersei Lannister or so she claimed. Cersei was a girl of three and twenty. She was yet to be married as her father hadn't found her a good match yet. Rhaenyra when she heard said nothing. Robert even thought she hadn't heard but she had. She knew, thanks to her little birds that Jaime was Cersei's lover. So, her plan was to take Jaime from Cersei. It was her goal to make him loyal to her.

Her plan began the very next day. She had asked Robert for a new guard. Stating that with six children it was better for them and her to have extra security. The king agreed. She smiled and acted as if nothing was happening. When Cersei was forced to move the keep by her father's order, Rhaenyra was forced to confront her husband.

Robert entered their shared chambers. "Nyra" she looked away. Rhaenyra was two and twenty. She had given her husband six children. She never complained nor did she cause him any problems. She simply did her duty, ever the dutiful her mother used to say. "I have never asked anything of you, nor have I ever caused you trouble or any problems. I have stood by you for the last seven years. I married you despite everything. I am no saint, nor have I ever been. I brought a son into a marriage that was not yours. You loved him and took care of him as if he was your own. And in return I gave your four sons with your blood and two daughters with your blood" there was a brief silence. "Where our children not enough?" she asked. "Was I not enough?" she asked.

Rhaenyra had never been insecure. How could she? She was a Targaryen, their beauty seemed to be god like and now, with her dragon being a god seemed far more possible than before. "I love you, Robert. But I will not be the person you treat like a common whore. If Cersei gives you a bastard child I will give you one too. And if she gives you another so will I" she said. Robert was too stunned to speak. She gave him on chance to speak before she left their shared chambers, Arthur and Jaime following behind.

Rhaenyra knew Cersei's greatest love was Jaime, and she rarely even allowed him to wonder far from her. Jaime didn't mind, watching over her gave him some sort of relief as he felt guilty for killing her father years back. He also wanted to keep her safe as he could not keep Elia and her children. Jaime was also avoiding his sister, as much as she would try to find him but he would walk the other way or ignore her pleas to talk. Over the months the good relationship between the queen and king perished in the blink of an eye. King Robert returned to his drunken and whoring ways.

Cersei Lannister gave birth to a son who she named Joffrey Baratheon, a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be all his father but the eyes. A year later, in the year 292, queen Rhaenyra gave birth to a son, a boy she named Rhaegar Targaryen and a daughter who she named Rhaella. The boy had blonde white hair. His eyes were the same eyes of princess Alyssa Targaryen, wife of Baelon Targaryen. One green eye and purple. Her daughter, princess Rhaella had a her grandmother's looks. Ser Jaime Lannister was the first one to hold his two children. A little princeling he used to call him and his little baby girl. Jaime and Rhaenyra were the ones who picked the names.

Robert knew but he said nothing as the guilt of returning to his old habits returned. Prince Jacaerys came four years after his sisters, then, a year after him came Lucerys. Princess Rhaenyra had always loved those names and had always wanted to name one of her sons like them. Prince Jacaerys had dark brown hair and purple eyes, his brother Lucerys was just like his brother. Queen Rhaenyra bore thirteen children at the short age of thirty. Her last two children were girls. Daughters. Visenya and Daenerys, daughters of Ser Arthur Dayne.

Eddard Stark never married, instead he served his queen Rhaenyra his entire life. And of course he took care of their two sons. Ned had became her closest companion alongside Arthur and Jaime Lannister. She had no other allies at court but them. At least, she didn't trust anyone else but them. Cersei gave Robert three more children. Tommen, Myrcella and Joanna but they were known as bastards since they were not married.

On the queen's name day, a thirtieth name day celebration was made in her honor. Every house in the realm attended, including Dorne, Driftmark and the North. By then, Prince Jaehaerys was nearly six and ten, Daemon was five and ten, Orys three and ten, Aemon and Aemond were one and ten, Helaena and Rhaena were eight, Rhaegar and Rhaella were nearly six, Jacaerys was four, prince Lucerys three and his sisters had just turned one.

Queen Rhaenyra, despite birthing thirteen children looked far better than most, she was grateful, she also took care great of her figure, she wanted to preserve herself as much as she could. Robert knew that seven of those children where not his. Jaehaerys had been claimed as a Targaryen despite Tywin's insistence to keep him as a bastard. Rhaenyra did not wish for her son to bear the name Baratheon or Stark. Brandon had written to her often wanting to know about his son but he not once had asked for the boy to visit him nor to be claimed as a Stark. She knew Catelyn did not like the idea of Brandon's bastard sons being in their home and possible taking Robb's birthright.

During the Queen's name day celebration things are said and revenge is plotted. They say when you play the game of thrones you win or you die, there is no middle ground. Queen Rhaenyra is going to win, no matter what. The question is, will she succeed or will she fail?

[ashtxeman]

A small analysis of the Black Friday line and the townie's individual wants

some hc stuff dabbled in here (mostly for james shopper), but the majority is based on canon!

Sherman Young: A classic case of being spoiled, he's greedy, if he wants something he'll get it no matter what. He's got the power of a hot rich Mother on his side so, there was no way he wasn't going to be there. If he lacks something, he feels incomplete and he'll probably wine about it too. Wiggly to him is like the final piece in his collection, the crowning jewel of all toys. As long as he doesn't have him he's not going to be happy.

James Shopper/The Corrupt Man: He's a clone of Charles Coven, and struggles heavily with seperating himself from his creator. He sees Wiggly as a way to be somebody new. Also explains his attachment to Linda's cheque, good treasure and great coin y'know. Wiggly is an opportunity to have a hobby or interest outside of what he's inherited from Charles.. and his want for Wiggly is also excentuated by the very greed he got from Charles.

Linda Monroe: Wilbur said most of this himself, she's desperate for adoration and thinks she'll find it if she gives her bratty children what they want.. or what she assumes they would want. We know they would never have actually mentioned Wiggly or shown interest, but Linda as a very shallow minded individual when it comes to these things would take a look at Wiggly, think of him as the latest 'trend', and set off to get the dolls for her boys. But her children don't really matter in the grand scheme of things, she's getting the Wiggly for herself as a source of adoration. She gives it to people who want it, and in return to she gets that love she craves so deeply.

Becky Barnes: On a surface level Becky is there to get dolls for the children, but in actuality she more likely wants the doll because she feels empty and alone. After the incident with Stanley she probably helps those feelings by interacting with the children and helping them, but once the doll is introduced she's drawn to it as a permanent source of happiness. A cure. Children come and go, but Wiggly is forever.

Tom Houston: Tom thinks he's here for his son, in a similar way to Becky where he feels empty and alone since the loss of Jane but finds those feelings easier to bare when Tim is happy. But deep down, he's here for himself. He knows that eventually Tim is going to grow sick of him, he's convinced himself that Tim blames him for what happened and they're inevitably going to grow apart. He'll be left more alone than ever before. If he gets a Wiggly, he can impress Tim and make him happy, make him want to stay. Or maybe, if he gets one, Tim won't even matter anymore.. Because just like it is with Becky, children come and go, but Wiggly is forever.

Curt's Shopper/Mildy Peeved Mega: He mentions that he 'lost his job when the plant closed' and he's clearly low on funds given how he complains about Wiggly's price fluctuating, so it's pretty obvious he's here for a Wiggly because he thinks it can help him forget his employment and financial troubles. Being unemployed must suck, especially in Hatchetfield where the threat of homelessness means a whole lot more. He's desperate for a crutch to help him forget. And who knows, if he has a Wiggly maybe people will think his cool and they'll hire him.

The Homeless Man: Joey's actually said a lot about this on commentary and such. The Homeless Man really wasn't there for a Wiggly at all.. he just saw everybody crowding and thought it looked warm, so joined in. Simply a case of him not wanting to freeze to death out in the cold. Though, when he does finally get his hands on a Wiggly and finds himself in the cult, it's easy to assume why. If anybody has holes that need to be fixed, it's him. His lovers dead, everyone hates him, and he's been haunted by a massive goat. Of course he'll think a cuddly little doll could help him!

Barry Swift/Man in a Hurry: Barry has one surface level character trait, and it's that he can never slow down. If you look to his dialogue in Daddy where he mentions trouble with his past relationships because of his tendency to hurry, you see just how much it ruins his life and even get the sense that he hates hurrying, but somehow has no choice but to do it anyway. A man who can never stop and enjoy life? Always gotta be on the move, looking for the next thing? The moment something like Wiggly comes into the picture, he's going to want it. Perhaps he thinks it'll finally motivate him to slow down and let him enjoy something.. or maybe he's just greedy and wants it so he can laugh in people's faces and say he's got one.

Gary Goldstein: Gary loves everybody in town, and really just wants to be appreciated and maybe even admired. Nobody credits him where he's due and some of his best clients treat him like shit (Sherman abusing his services for petty things, and Linda doing the same with the added threat of her husband if their affair is discovered). He's here for a Wiggly just because he knows it's the latest trend and if he gets in on it, people might like him more and he'll finally feel appreciated. He will do anything to be liked. Even join a cult and kick a man to death.

[daughterofcain-67]

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (pt. 9)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your main goal while you’re riding with Butcher is to make sure you can get Ben back no matter the cost. After getting to Grace Mallory’s last known residence, you hope you can find what you’re looking for. The sooner you’d find Ben, the better off you’ll be.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cannon level violence, nothing to explicit. Alternative ending to the final episode of season three in a way, or an alternative version of the aftermath rather. Hope you all enjoy!

You could hear the way Butcher was grumbling obscenities to himself all throughout the car ride to get to Grace Mallory’s home. You didn’t catch all of it but you knew Butcher wasn’t exactly thrilled to be going back to a place where he was unwelcome. It surprised you since you assumed he got used to the feeling of being unwelcome considering his record.

“You know, you aren’t the only one in the car. You sound like a psychopath talking to yourself when I’m right here.” You said as you continued to look out through the windshield.

“I just don’t get why you’re going through all this trouble for a guy who’s willing to kill children like Ryan just to get to his goal. What kind of heartless bastard is he?” He asked, glaring at the road and you shrugged a little.

“And you were completely fond of Ryan when you found out he was the spawn of your wife’s rape? A spawn of Homelander? Don’t tell me the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, so that argument is kind of unfair to Soldier Boy.” You commented and you heard Butcher continue to grumble.

“That’s a different bloody story. Becca didn’t ask for any of that shit to happen to her. She went missing for so many years and I had no fucking clue what happened to her. Hell, there were times I thought she was dead.”

“Soldier Boy is my Becca. You went a handful of years without her. I’ve gone decades without Soldier Boy. And he didn’t ask to be taken to Russia, didn’t ask to be robbed of the opportunity to raise his own son. Who knows, if Soldier Boy really did raise Homelander, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out to be such a dick.” You continued.

“I hardly think Soldier Boy is really as helpless as Becca was though.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.. Yeah he’s strong and for the most part he can take care of himself if you take the damned Novichok out of the equation. No, he’s not as helpless as your wife was. And I’m sorry for your loss and I hate to hear what happened to her. Maybe that wasn’t exactly the best example.”

“You think?” Butcher muttered as he started to turn on a certain road.

“Okay, okay. Bad analogy. Maybe it would be better like this… The same love Becca felt for you? The way she loved you is the love I feel for Soldier Boy.”

“Oh now you’re comparing me to Soldier Boy? Thanks, that’s such a bloody compliment to be compared to the cunt.” He said and you sighed.

“Well, all I’m saying neither of you are perfect. You both have your flaws. Like a shit ton of flaws and no one in their right mind should care for either of you. Both of you have blood on your hands whether you wanted it or not. But Becca accepted you, flaws and all. She knew you’re far from perfect and she wasn’t blind to the fact that you’re not exactly the greatest guy on the planet, but her love for you was still strong and unconditional. And I love Soldier Boy even with all of his flaws and mistakes.”

Butcher was silent for several moments while his gaze remained transfixed on the road ahead of the two of you. You turned your head and looked out of the passenger window.

“He really wasn’t a bad guy in the beginning. Arrogant, sure. But he never wanted innocent people to get hurt. He just got suckered into Vought’s trap like a lot of Supes do. They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions after all. And after a while, I guess he, like most supes, lost a lot of their morals somewhere along the way…” You said.

“He was telling me about that. Just before we were on the way to fight Homelander.” Butcher finally spoke again.

“As much as I don’t like what Annie said about Soldier Boy, and as much as I think she grew a little bit self centered for it, I’m still glad she stepped away from Vought when she did.” You spoke as you remembered that Annie was still the one that gave you that unreleased photo of Soldier Boy.

“I can tell her heart is still in the right place, so there’s hope for her yet. She’s just got a bit of growing up to do.” At this, Butcher only hummed.

You sighed a little, ready to get out of the car. It felt like you had been driving for most of the day, but really it’s only been about two or three hours, “How much longer ‘till we get to Mallory’s?”

“Won’t be too much longer.” Butcher said, starting to get short again.

When you glanced over, you saw that he wasn’t in the right shape and you noticed that something seemed to be leaking from his ear. Your frowned a little.

“Is that from the temp V you’ve been taking?” You asked and pointed at your own ear.

Butcher glanced at you and he touched his own ear. He glanced down at his fingertips and muttered a curse as he wiped the residue on his pants. Lovely.

“Yeah.”

“You must’ve taken a lot of those doses, huh?” You asked.

“Eh, mistakes have been made. I’m just glad the Kid didn’t take anymore. It would’ve killed the little fella.” He insisted.

“So… what made you protect him? Isn’t that kind of out of your character?” You inquired, which caused him to shoot a glare at you.

“I’m not that bad of a guy either ya know. I’m doing this with the whole, Hell with good intentions thing you were talking about.” He commented as he looked back at the road.

“But anyway.. Hughie reminds me a lot of somebody I knew.” He finally answered your question after a few minutes. You smiled a little to yourself, knowing Butcher couldn’t have been that bad of a guy deep down.

“Friend?”

“Family member… brother.”

You frowned a little, getting the feeling from the way Butcher went stoic with his facial expressions that something bad must’ve happened. You glanced down at your hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for. Only thing that can fix anything is a Time Machine at this point.” He told you, though the comment didn’t make the frown leave your face.

“So how long do you have left?” You asked, getting the feeling the temp V may just be costing the man his life.

“Doctor’s say I’ve got about 18 months, that’s if I’m lucky. Which so far in life, I haven’t been so lucky.”

“I’m sure Hughie may be able to help you find some kind of cure. Plus you’ve got Frenchie who’s apparently one Hell of a chemist.”

“I haven’t told the lot of them yet. And I don’t plan on it.”

“You know Hughie’s going to be crushed if you don’t say anything to him and he finds out some other way.” You reminded and Butcher shook his head.

“I got him wrapped up in this mess from the start. I’ve dragged all of them through the trenches, so most of them may even be glad to hear I’ll be dead and out of their lives for good.” Butcher said.

“That’s awfully pessimistic of you.” You replied and he gave a slight shrug.

“It’s the truth though. Not much helpin’ that one.”

You looked out of the window again when the conversation didn’t go any further. But then after a few minutes, the two of you made it to a house that must’ve been Mallory’s. Butcher pulled into the driveway and the both of you got out of the vehicle.

“Look’s like she’s not here.” Butcher said when he noticed there weren’t any vehicles, and he remembered this was the last place she was when she was still looking after Ryan.

“Still, she’s bound to have some sort of notes, maybe even a computer so we can look through her emails and see what we can find. If she’s not here, there are always other ways to find out where she’s keeping Soldier Boy.” You insisted, hearing Butcher sigh you walked up to the door.

You noticed there’s a padlock on the door and you lifted a brow as you tried to think of what sort of codes to try. As you started to press some of the buttons, you heard the shattering of glass. You stood upright and looked around, but the next thing you knew, Butcher was opening up the door from the inside so you could come in.

“You’re in a rush, right? Let’s get this over with. Pressing buttons and solving puzzles won’t get you anywhere fast.” He said and you smirked a little.

“Let’s see what we can find.”

Ben woke up yet again feeling drowsy as Hell. He honestly had no idea at this point how long it’s been since he’d been taken. He stopped counting the hours, especially since he couldn’t when he was blacked out some of the time because of the damned gas or whatever they were putting in him.

He felt drained, but at this point it wasn’t a new feeling. It was still a humiliating feeling though. When he finally opened his eyes again and glanced down ward, he saw someone was drawing blood from him. As much as he wanted to move his arm away, he couldn’t because they put more restraints on his arms as a precaution from last time he was able to get one of his arms free.

“What have the results been so far?” Ben could hear a familiar voice question.

He slowly looked over and saw Grace was standing behind the woman taking his blood. The bitch looked even worse up close. He couldn’t say anything though. Mask and all.

“Nothing. I’m getting to understand why the Russians just put him away. Pretty much nothing can kill him and we aren’t making much progress with finding any other weaknesses.”

“And you’re taking his blood, why?” Mallory inquired.

“We’re hoping to see what kind of genetic weaknesses he could have and we need his blood to do some tests for that.” The doctor said.

Ben winced when he felt yet another needle in his arm and he assumed they were taking more blood from him. He tried to jerk his arm away but that did nothing to help him.

“What other procedures will you be performing in the meantime while you wait for the blood tests?”

“We’ll be seeing different ways the Novichok and maybe some other vapors can effect him. Maybe we can use that to kill him rather than using the radiation like they did in Russia.”

That sounded like it would be a painfully slow process. All the Novichok did was make him feel sleepy, almost like an anesthetic. But if he were to die in his sleep, Ben supposed he’d take that over a painful and torturous death.

“You know, maybe we can save some of the blood. If we can use his genes, maybe we can make a different hero. One that’s better than Homelander. Raise him up to take Homelander down.” Mallory suggested.

“Work for us? They’d be labeled as just another super terrorist or supervillain or whatever the term is. Are you sure that would be a good idea?”

“If we can shut down Vought once and for all, then anything would be worth it.”

Ben couldn’t stand for it. He wouldn’t let his DNA be used for someone else’s experimentation. Especially not after the last child turned out to be such a damned disappointing excuse to be called his son. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

“No…” He managed to speak and Mallory looked over at him.

“No what? I don’t think you have much control over what we do here.”

“Do not.. make another kid. Not like that bitch Homelander…”

Mallory heard the comment coming from Soldier Boy. She was almost amazed that he could even gather up the consciousness to form a sentence with how much Novichok they were gassing him up with. She hoped he wasn’t growing some sort of immunity to it. That would be disastrous.

“Trust me, Soldier Boy… if we do find a way to make a child from your DNA, the last thing we want is another Homelander.” She said, but she could tell the thought wasn’t comforting to the fallen hero. Not that it was intended to be a comfort anyway.

“It won’t be like you or Homelander. Maybe it’ll be even stronger than Homelander’s so called son, Ryan.” Mallory shrugged and that was when her phone began to buzz.

She pulled her device from her pocket and looked down, realizing there was an alert from her last residence.

Her eyes widened when she saw the security footage. It was not only the familiar face of Butcher breaking one of her windows to get into her house, but he was working with none other than Quake.

Grace could see from the phone they were looking for something. When Grace watched you look through her office area and she saw you open up her laptop, her stomach dropped. She didn’t know how quickly you’d be able to find this lab, but Mallory knew it would only be a matter of time before you’d be on your way here.

“Keep him sedated.” Mallory said as she turned on her heel while she was about to walk out of the door.

“What’s happening? It’s not like he’s going anywhere.” The doctor said and Grace looked back at Soldier Boy.

Once they made eye contact, Ben knew something must’ve happened. He smirked when he saw a glimpse of weakness in Grace’s eyes, a glimpse of fear.

“We may need to move him. My last location’s been made.” Grace said and walked out of the room.

The smirk remained on Ben’s face as he looked back up at the ceiling. If his assumptions, his hopes even, were correct… you’d be there to get him out of this Hell-hole in no time.

You saw the information on the laptop screen and you smirked before you looked over at Butcher who was just looking over your shoulder.

“I take it you’ve found it?” He asked.

“Yep. Let’s head out. If I know Mallory and her security plans… she may already know we’ve been here.” You commented and wrote down the address. Then you folded the paper in your hand and stood upright.

“We need to move now before she tries to move Soldier Boy.” Butcher nodded before he turned on his heel and headed for the door that’s been left open.

With that, you and Butcher both left the house and rushed to the car because the two of you could hear sirens in the distance. Mallory must’ve sent some kind of security to her home or something because of the break in so now it was time to haul ass.

Neither of you really bothered to buckle up and Butcher started the car and drove off. Meanwhile you grabbed your phone and started typing in the address on the GPS so Butcher could head that way.

You could tell Butcher was speeding with how you felt like you were about to sink into the seat as he took off. The sirens were close for a moment but as Butcher drove the sirens started to sound like they were getting further and further away.

Once you put the location in the GPS and put the phone on the little phone stand, you looked in the passenger mirror, “Do you think we lost them?”

“Ain’t no tellin’ so we may have to take advantage of our other precautions… check the glovebox.” Butcher told you so you opened it up and saw a gun.

“Let’s hope we’ve lost them.” You said, not sure of your aim with a gun and if you could get their tires or if you’d end up missing them and hitting someone else. Boulders you could handle, guns? Not so much.

But unfortunately, you could hear the sirens again and they were gaining on you pretty fast. You looked in the passenger mirror again and you felt a little uneasy.

“Quake, you’re gonna have to use that bloody thing if they get any closer to us. And from the looks of it… they’re coming pretty quick.” Butcher said and you looked down at the gun in your hand.

“Aim for the tires and you should be fine..” You whispered to yourself and you made sure the safety was switched off and you carefully got out of the seat and tried to steady yourself, though it wasn’t so easy since the road was starting to get a little bumpy.

You leaned out of the window and faced behind you. Sure enough, some cars were gaining speed behind you. You tried to steady your breathing while you lifted the hand that was holding the gun and aimed forward for their tires.

You pulled the trigger the first time and flinched when you heard both the gunshot and the tire blow on the first car. Your eyes widened when you saw the first vehicle struggle to keep control and they went off the side of the road.

“And you thought your aiming was bad. Now knock the dust off those other cunts.” Butcher said from the driver’s seat and you nodded to yourself and you pulled the trigger again, then again, taking care of the other two cars. You saw as the front of the two cars met and you could tell they were totaled with the way the airbags went off.

You felt a hand at the back of your shirt to pull you back in, though you realized it was just Butcher. You thanked him and switched the safety back on the gun and put it back in the glovebox. You ran a hand through your hair before you glanced over to the phone, looking to see how long it would be until you’d get to your destination.

“You think Soldier Boy will still be there if Mallory knows we’re on the way?” You questioned, trying not to doubt now of all times.

Butcher shrugged, “We’ve already made it this far. We won’t know if he’s there until we get there.”

After about ten more minutes, you finally arrived at your destination. Butcher went for his little black bag and you knew the V was in it. You put a hand over his and he looked at you.

“What?”

“You’re already dying. Don’t make the process speed up. The only supe that’s in there is Soldier Boy and he’s incapacitated.” You said and you reached into the glove box and pulled the gun out.

“Stick around for Hughie for as long as you can.” He looked at you with an oddly soft look, uncharacteristic of him and you didn’t like it but you could tell he was at least trying to let your words set in. You knew he cared for Hughie a lot, and he was kind of the only voice of reason Butcher seemed to have. It kept Butcher human in a way.

But you couldn’t be sentimental much longer after that.

The both of you got out of the car and they already knew you were coming. Some of the guards were already holding up their weapons and you raised up your hands as a wall of rock and dirt appeared between you and Butcher and the guards. Then with a pushing motion, the wall you created plunged forward and knocked all of the guards down.

When that happened, you already started to feel a little lightheaded. You supposed you weren’t completely at full capacity after the incident at Vought’s tower. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. You had to get Ben out of there. The sooner, the better.

You lifted a boulder and you threw it into the door, breaking a gaping hole into the building and you and Butcher came in. Butcher started shooting at even more of the guards. It was nice to know that even if he didn’t have much of a choice in this matter, he still had your back to a certain extent.

When you caught a glimpse of some people rushing down the hall across your path and you had a feeling you ought to follow them. You bit down on your bottom lip before you started running into that direction.

“What’s happening?” You heard someone call.

“It’s Soldier Boy. He’s trying to break free again. He’s already snapped the leather straps on one of his arms again.”

“Who the hell was watching him?!”

You didn’t care to hear the rest of that conversation because you knew they’d try to get Ben back into that vault. So you followed them and you slammed your fist against the floor.

“W-What was that?!”

“Quake! She’s here!” One of the scientists said and when you looked up you saw the look of terror on their faces. You smirked a little before you put your hands in the crack in the floor you created before you pulled your hands apart, thus splitting the floor open and they fell into the hole. You left it opened so they could at least try to get out on their own.

Then you ran to the other end of the hall, desperately looking for any sign of Ben.

You could feel something tickling your nose and rolling down and as you ran, you lifted a hand to your nose and looked down. You noticed the blood. “Fuck, not now.”

You shook it off and you rubbed your nose before you continued running. That was when you ran past a window where a light was beginning to glow. You opened the door and you saw that some scientists were frantically trying to keep a mask over Ben.

“Ben!” You exclaimed and you caught a glimpse of his gaze. Your eyes locked and then you diverted your attention to the scientists who were working but some of them went to you and they were coming towards you.

They were trying to corner you and you glanced around to see what exactly you could do but then you saw a scalpel. You picked it up and you started stabbing the scientists. As they cried in pain while gripping their arms or sides, you lifted another hand and twisted your wrist a little to try and take a chunk of the wall closest to them and you pushed them out of the room.

The last two scientists that were once hovering over Ben were coming at you. But then your vision was starting to get blurry no matter how hard you were trying to focus as they were coming at you. One of them tackled you to the ground and you were trying to fight them off with the scalpel.

One of them managed to take the scalpel from you and they held it up against your throat but then before you knew it, they went flying somewhere and you thought you heard some kind of crash. Sounded like one of them landed on a table or something, but you couldn’t really be sure.

But when you looked up, you saw Ben was the one hovering over you.

“Y/N, come on. Wake up. You can’t black out now.” You could hear his voice, hearing a twinge of concern and you knew he was right. This wasn’t over yet.

You could tell from the slight strain in his voice he must’ve gone through some sort of Hell of his own these past couple of days. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. It was getting harder to focus on anything but you started to get up and you felt Ben’s hand grip your arm as he basically dragged you up from the ground.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you and you nodded your head slightly, not wanting to move it too much because you felt like your head would explode if you did.

“Fine. Let’s get out of here.” You said and as you were rubbing your eyes to try and get them to focus again, Ben must’ve taken one of the doctor’s scrub pants because when you opened your eyes again, he had a pair of those light blue pants on and some poor guy was sitting there with nothing to cover his lower half.

You and Ben rushed out of the room and you could hear some gunshots.

“Come on, we have to find Butcher.” You said.

“Wait, you brought that asshole with you?” Ben asked.

“Ben, I had to. He was the only one that I could get to tell me where Mallory lived so I could even find this place. Can we talk about that later?” You said.

The two of you began running and that was when you saw a glimpse of Mallory trying to get out of the building and you glared, “Oh Hell no.”

Just as she made it outside, you rushed outside as well. Then you lifted your hands and several boulders appeared from the ground and you used them to crush each and every car that the woman could have possibly used to escape. There were about six vans, three cars, and two cargo vans that must’ve been used for the equipment they used to torture Ben. Every one of them were nothing but useless car parts now.

You saw Grace look back at you before she tried to run off and you clenched your fist and pulled your hand to yourself. Just as you did, the earth rose up and grasped Grace before pulling her to yourself. You rotated your wrist and the earth moved to make the old woman face you.

“I thought of all people, you’d know how much Soldier Boy meant to me. You even worked with me to bring Vought down just to prove they were the ones behind his whole so called death charade. To think you’d be one of the ones that would try to take him from me again.” You said and Mallory looked at you.

When we figured out what we needed to, we would have given him up.” Mallory said and you scoffed.

“If it were up to you, you would have given me a rotting carcass.” You continued.

“How far did you get, huh? What exactly have you found?” You asked and she shook her head.

“I haven’t found anything other than the Novichok because of Frenchie.” She said and you glared as you tightened your fist, causing the earth to act as an iron maiden, threatening to pierce the old woman’s body.

“I swear! Radiation does nothing but strengthen his energy blasts. Vapors just act as an anesthetic to keep him stabilized. That’s all I know.”

“Good… that’s the last thing you’ll ever find out about him.” You promised and with a snap of your fingers, the spikes went through Mallory’s body. She didn’t even have the chance to scream before the life left her eyes.

When you released the earth’s grip on her body, she plopped to the ground almost like a sack of potatoes. She was nothing but a bloody mess with holes in her clothes where her wounds were.

“Y/N! What did you do?!” Butcher called out.

When you turned around, you saw both Ben and Butcher walking forward. But everything that’s happened in the last several moments took a lot from you. The blurriness returned and that was the last you remembered.

Ben’s eyes widened when he saw you start to fall and he started running to you.

“Fucking Hell.” Ben said as he caught you just in time, knowing you must’ve overdone it. Your recovery time must’ve gotten longer since the tower. This whole rescue thing didn’t help at all.

“She bloody killed Mallory!” Butcher exclaimed and Ben glared.

“Like you’ve never killed anyone before.” Ben reminded.

Ben noticed Butcher went over to the woman and watched as Butcher sighed a little.

“She was ready to see her family though. She’d been ready for a long time.” Butcher said and Ben just let out a hum, not really interested as he looked down at you.

He put his hand on the pile point in your neck and let out a breath of relief. Then, Ben looked over at the building that had kept him the past several days. He carefully laid you down on the ground for a moment before he focused his energy to his center again. Afterwards, the next thing he knew there was another explosion and the building and everything inside was destroyed.

“You’ve gotten better at that, haven’t you?” Butcher said and Ben looked over at the man in the coat.

“I guess.” He said before Ben turned his attention back to you. He knelt down at your side before he took you into his arms again and he stood up. He felt the way your body leaned into his chest and he was honestly glad you found him. But he needed to get you some place safe so you could recover.

“You think she’ll be alright?” Butcher asked as he walked over but Ben could sense the sort of caution Butcher had.

“You know I’m not a ticking time bomb, right? Yeah, she’ll be okay. Just need to get her somewhere safe so she could rest up.” Ben said.

Butcher rubbed the back of his neck. A part of him didn’t want to help Soldier Boy since he would have killed Ryan if he had the chance, but aside from the threat you made, you were alright for a supe he supposed. You weren’t his favorite person in the world, but you did promise to keep Soldier Boy accountable and you said you’d stay away from everyone’s families if you got Soldier Boy back.

“Come on… I know a thing or two about stealing cars. I’ll give you a card and you can get her to a hotel to rest up.” Butcher said.

Ben looked up at Butcher, almost wondering if this was some kind of joke or if this was some trick. Could you blame him for being hesitant when the man turned on him back in the tower?

“Why? I didn’t kill Homelander and Y/N killed your little friend.” Ben said.

“If she can keep somebody like you in line when you can’t be killed, then we need her around. The world does. Just don’t let anyone here catch you around. Especially MM. He still wants to kill you.” Butcher said.

“Now are you coming or not?”

Ben was still skeptical about this whole thing, but he knew he didn’t have any other choice. So he nodded and he carried you out to Butcher’s car and the three of you rode somewhere to try and steal someone’s car from some gas station or something.

Ben was sitting down beside you on the bed while you rested. By that time, Ben had already used the card to buy himself some clothes so he wasn’t wandering around in scrub pants. He was wearing some t-shirt and some sweatpants and he had some socks on his feet.

Other than that, he hadn’t left your side. He wanted to make sure he was there for you whenever you’d wake up. Although he knew it may take a little longer than he wanted to. Still, it had been several hours since the both of you left Mallory’s little lab or whatever. It couldn’t be too much longer now, could it?

He gazed at your figure and he reached out to brush a stray hair away from your face. Then he moved to reach for the remote on the night stand so there would be some kind of background noise rather than the silence.

Ben looked over at the television and noticed some trailers for some new movies were out. He rolled his eyes a little. There were times where he got really tired of seeing supe movies. So Ben used the remote to try and find something worth watching. Then he saw a black and white film, something that took him back in time.

He recognized Clark Gable and Doris Day on the screen and it made him smile when he was able to at least recognize those faces, even if they weren’t exactly his favorite actors. The movie was apparently called Teacher’s Pet when he saw the title on the screen before it flashed away.

Ben started growing a little more interested in the old movie, there was something about it that felt more familiar to him. Maybe it was because it was something from a familiar time.

“You know, I loved Clark Gable back in the day.” Ben heard a familiar voice say and when he looked down, he saw your beautifully colored eyes opened and on the screen.

He smiled as he turned the volume down since the television switched to some adds now and he turned to face you, “You’re awake.”

“How long was I ou-“ He interrupted you with a kiss, unable to wait any longer.

He could hear you chuckling against his mouth and he slowly pulled away and he looked down at you, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing…. I’m just glad to see you too.” He heard you say and he grinned before he cupped your face in the palm of his hand.

“You over did yourself again.” Ben stated.

“Twice.” You answered.

“I know. You wanna tell me about the tower?” He asked and you shook your head a little.

“Not much to tell. You went out the window, I went to panic mode that switched to some kind of rage mode. I’m surprised I was awake right after. I looked for you but realized I hat to run. Found some abandoned building to crash in and I crashed there for a while. The first two days I felt like I’d puke if I even thought about standing. By day three I was able to at least walk.” You said and Ben sighed.

“You really shouldn’t use your powers for a while.”

“Since when did you become a doctor?” He heard you ask and he saw your smile.

“I’d make a pretty shit doctor. But I’d rather not watch you black out again.” He admitted and you nodded before he felt you move closer to him, so Ben wrapped an arm around your smaller frame.

“What about you? How are you feeling?” Ben heard you question and he smiled a little. But then he remembered some pain killers or whatever other kind of drugs Butcher handed him before he went back to his little group.

“I’m fine. A hell of a lot better now that I’m away from that place. But here, take this. Butcher said it’s supposed to help with whatever migraine you might get.” He said and handed you some water and a couple of pills.

He watched you sit up and you took the pills before you started drinking some water.

“How long have I been out?” You finally asked him and Ben shrugged a little.

“Several hours.”

“So… what do we do from here?” He heard you ask and he chuckled a little.

“I thought you would have thought about it a little more. What’s the situation with your house? Couldn’t we just go back there?” Ben asked but then he watched you shake your head.

“No, Vought got to it and destroyed pretty much everything. Honestly, I think our best bet may be leaving the country.” You admitted and Ben frowned at that idea.

“You really think we have to go to that extreme? Mallory remained off the radar for several years and so did you, and you were able to stay in the states.” Ben stated, you hummed a little.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure if I can go into hiding again so soon. Who knows if Vought has people all over the country looking for me. Maybe even you if word were to get out that you’re alive.” You said.

“You act like Vought’s got a shit ton of snipers crawling all over the place.” Ben sighed and you shrugged.

“Who knows… you never know what Vought has up their sleeves. And I really don’t want to stick around and find out.” You said.

“If we’re out of the country for at least a year, maybe two. That way Vought thinks we’re out of the picture and it opens some sort of door for us to come back. You know they’re all about their fake deaths for supes they lose or force into retirement. Until then, maybe we can travel. It could be really fun.” You continued.

“Traveling.. might sound alright for a while. At least until things quiet down a bit. People already think I’m dead because of Vought I’m sure.” Ben commented and he watched you nod, confirming his statement.

“So where do you think we should go first?” You asked and Ben felt you place a hand on his own, causing him to grin as he intertwined your fingers.

“As long as we aren’t in Russia, I’ll be happy.” Ben reminded.

“Well, I kind of figured that would be a given… what about Ireland?” You suggested and Ben thought about it for a moment.

“You know what? I think that sounds like a great idea.”

Ben watched the way you smiled softly and he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead while you snuggled closer to him. He looked down at you, loving the fact that you were in his arms again.

“Thank you.. for coming and saving me.” He whispered and you hummed softly.

“Ben, that’s not anything to thank me for. When you love someone, you’d do anything to make sure they’re safe. I lost you once when you went out of the country, then again at Vought when Queen Maeve pushed you out of that window. I couldn’t lose you again after I just got you back.” You insisted.

Ben’s gaze softened. If he wasn’t mistaken, that may have even been the first time you said you loved him, even if it was in some sort of descriptive way. He knew you loved him based on the letters you’ve written him over the years, but he’s never heard you actually say it.

“God, you’re nothing like Crimson Countess, are you?” Ben chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t think I could hate you nearly as much as she did.” You replied, he hummed as he looked down at you, observing your features.

“My world would crumble if you hated me half as much as she did. Then it would completely disappear if anything were to happen to you, if I lost you.” He admitted.

There was a change in the dynamic between the two of you in that moment, a shift in the atmosphere in a way. It was something the two of you hadn’t been able to sit and relish in ever since he came back. The two of you had been so preoccupied with his mission of killing the members of Payback, then the Homelander fiasco, then you rescuing him from Mallory’s lab.

“You know… when I woke up and heard the TV… a part of me wondered if everything that’s happened this past week and a half has been a dream.” You admitted.

“How do you mean?” Ben said gently.

“I mean… You’ve been gone for so long… I spent years in my house writing all of those letters. I’ve spent countless nights dreaming of what it would be like if you were to come back. This whole endeavor… A part of me thought after Mallory’s lab, that was just the end of another dream. A part of me wonders if I’ll ever get over the surrealism.”

Ben chuckled, “You really must’ve worn yourself out if you’re still thinking it was all a dream after this whole time.”

“Well, Ben… why don’t you show me how real all of this is?” You asked him, then a smirk started to appear on Ben’s face.

“With pleasure.” Ben said as he leaned down for a kiss. A kiss that would surely take your breath away and show you that this was reality. That this would be your new reality for the rest of your life and that you’d never lose him again.

After so many decades of being away from Ben, you knew what it was like to wander the earth as if you’d lost your other half. You knew how it felt to be so alone for so many years. You’ve felt out of place for so long but with Ben in your grasp again, you felt whole, complete. It was a happiness you hadn’t felt in so long and you were glad you finally had the man you loved beside you again and you couldn’t wait to see how the next several decades would treat the both of you.

It would certainly be an adventure, one you were more than eager to share with Ben for the rest of your life.

Tag List:

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[atopvisenyashill]

Please tell me more of your thoughts on maegelle, maybe it’s cause I’m new to the Fire and Blood side of the fandom but I’ve never seen anything deeper about her maybe being negative. Especially in regards to her mother/family. I’m quickly becoming Saera girlie and I wonder if Magelle’s role in the church might’ve contributed to her sister’s “”rehabilitation”” being bad enough to have her leave the continent.

Okay so the thing here is that she does to Alysanne what Jaehaerys does to Alyssa, which is force/cajole their mother into taking back and living with a man who has publicly humiliated her and made incredibly clear he has no respect for her, but we only really whack Jaehaerys for this. The first quarrel is more personally egregious to me because it's only Alysanne who must bite her tongue here and not Jaehaerys - she is not asking for anything extreme here! Her daughter committed the heinous crime of fucking before marriage, it's been like three years, and three of their daughters have subsequently died, but he hasn't calmed down at all about Saera. Alysanne even tries to compromise by just asking to fly to Lys to visit her and he forbids her from seeing her own fucking daughter. That's an insane level of abuse. And what does Maegelle do? Well she tells her parents that they need to keep up appearances and be seen in public together. Reminds me a lot of show alicent's "you may slap him about as you like at home but out in public we must be united" comment - essentially, Maegelle is telling Alysanne she has to cope with being barred from seeing her daughter and grieving her losses properly to keep up appearances. I mean fuck, maybe Alysanne genuinely wanted a divorce from Jaehaerys. Maybe at that point she was so distraught she wanted Jaehaerys to take a lover, and replace her, and leave her the hell alone so she could be with Gael or otherwise just go to Lys anyways. But Maegelle puts a stop to all of this by invoking Rhaenys' wedding and how they need to look united. Ghastly behavior.

BUT THEN. Less than two years later, Aemon dies and Jaehaerys names Baelon heir. And look, Alysanne is 100% right to be pissed the fuck off at Jaehaerys for naming Baelon - from our several comments about Rhaenys being called "our future queen", the fact that Aemon and Jocelyn never have any other kids, I think the fact that Rhaenys has a dragon as well, all of that makes very clear that everyone is sort of expecting Rhaenys to carry on the Targaryen line in some form or another. Beyond that, Jaehaerys knows damn well that Alysanne has historically been touchy about this - see her comments about little Daenerys. Jaehaerys, with this move, makes it clear that he had never planned for Rhaenys to be queen at all and was misleading everyone. This one is on par with Rogar's nonsense imo because it's so public and everyone knows how Alysanne feels about the succession. He doesn't talk it over with her after she's lost a son btw, he just announces it and takes everyone by surprise.

AND THEN ONCE AGAIN. HERE COMES MAEGELLE. "mom just get over it." And again, what does Jaehaerys give up here? Nothing. He's either sending Maegelle or he's just straight up leaving Alysanne alone and assuming she'll come back to him? It's just nasty. She's losing the ability to walk, to ride her dragon, to remember people's names, she's barred from seeing Saera, she's got a daughter the age of her grandchildren because Jaehaerys forced her to have another child, and she's not even allowed to just spend her last years on Dragonstone being left to age with what dignity she has left. No, she has to be at court, she has to be by her husband's side, because That's Her Place. It's just as smug, just as cruel as Jaehaerys forcing Alyssa to Rogar's side - and the cruelty, in my opinion, is the point here. "You made your bed now lie in it" type behavior, towards a woman who has just been publicly disrespected, who is grieving her dead children.

So anyways, do I believe Maegelle was just as viciously cruel to Saera and that's part of why Saera ran away? I can absolutely believe that yes. I think we see that a lot with Septas to be honest - women who get a thrill out of torturing other women who don't conform properly. Mordane actively eggs on the gap between Arya and Sansa until it becomes a gaping chasm, Moelle and Unella are happy to take orders that involve them sexually humiliating Margaery, her cousins, and Cersei and take a sort of sick glee out of doing it, so I don't think it's exactly far off to say Maegelle had a cruel streak in her that came out when it came to the women in her family not conforming properly. I think we can also take into account George's general distate for religion and Catholocism specifically and the way the Septas work as nuns, and the way nuns were like, insane at various catholic schools. I think there's an interesting play here right - that Jaehaerys can look a mother who put her own life on the line to make him king and hand her right back to the husband who hates her to die having his kids, because he's being vindictive and cruel about her having the audacity to remarry without his permission, and Maegelle looking the mother who has ruled capably and given her the space to be what she wanted to be, and hand her right back to the husband who clearly has no respect for her whatsoever, because she's cruel and believes a woman is not allowed to have differing opinions from the man who currently owns her. It doesn't matter what Alyssa or Alysanne personally did for the two of them; they're women, and they have no right to disagree with the men around them.

[basil--and--sage]

This is for Chase, who asked for a headcanon list about how the company would respond to a trans person.

Oh boy, what can I say, this got long. (more than 3k words, oh well)

I love trans stuff and I’m also currently writing a super long fic about Fíli’s life, starting in the Blue Mountains, and he’s a trans guy in the fic. So, I have a lot of thoughts about trans Dwarves in general and also about the reaction of the company.

If this is your cup of tea, proceed!

A short info: I will use terms like afab/amab, mtf/ftm and such in the following text. Usually, I am not a big fan of those words, since they focus so much on the gender assigned at birth, but for better readability I will use them. Just so you know :)

The reaction of the company to a trans person will be connected to the opinion on trans people in the Dwarven society in general, at least to a certain point. So, I’d like to share some thoughts about that, before we get into the reactions of the company.

I read a lot of great fics with a very open-minded Dwarven society (and I loved it). In such a scenario it is fair to assume that the company would react quite positively.

But what if the Dwarven society is not as open-minded? In this scenario it is important to also think about how minorities in general are treated. What about sexism?

Since I’m currently working so much on my fic, these headcanons are strongly coloured by it. Let’s get started:

The general view on trans people in the Dwarven society:

A common headcanon in the fandom is the idea that the Dwarves are per se male-dominated in the way that there are more male Dwarves than female, as an explanation for the slow decline of the number of Dwarves in general. Let’s take a quota of one Dwarrowdam in five Dwarves.

What does that mean for the role of female Dwarves? There is probably a strong focus on childbirth, so it is expected for a lass to marry a Dwarrow and have a few children. The birth of a little lass could be seen as a gift to secure the family line, since the likelihood for a son to be able to marry one of the rare Dwarrowdams and produce some offspring with her, is statistically lower. 

This means it is probably quite the issue, if a Dwarrowdam does not want to marry/is dedicated to her craft (=asexual)/does not want to have children/prefers females/or – turns out to be male after all (=a trans guy), who does not want to birth children.

Another important aspect: the role of Mahal as the Maker in Dwarven society. If the Dwarves in general think, that each one of them was made by Mahal himself, what consequences does it have, if one of them declares themself a different gender (=comes out as trans)? Is that accepted? Or seen as a form of blasphemy?

In case of the latter, we now have two factors working together: coming out as trans as a general threat to core believes, and also a difference between the reaction towards amab and afab people.

Another factor: the consequences of tragedies, especially for the Longbeards, like the loss of the Dwarven Kingdom in the Grey Mountains (which results in the return of the Dwarves to Erebor, under the reign of Thrór), the loss of Erebor, and the battle of Azanulbizar. I think, it is fair to assume that the Longbeards lost such a high number of people that the pressure to have children may be a lot stronger than in other clans, who faced less loss. This will also shape the way minorities are treated, and now we are back at the trans Dwarves.

After the loss of the Grey Mountains and the return to Erebor under the reign of Thrór, no Dwarf willing to work can be spared. Maybe being trans was a punishable offense in the past (due to the blasphemy), which could have led to banishment, but now there is such a demand for workers that Thrór probably changed some laws and now, all of a sudden, being trans isn’t a crime anymore. Although, that obviously doesn’t change the views of the public immediately.

Another question: is there a difference between different groups within society, for example the nobles and the working class (e.g. miners)? Since titles and such are not of importance in the working class, it’s fair to assume that the miners etc. are a lot less strict about the doings of their lasses, though there’s probably still a certain expectation for Dwarrowdams to marry a Dwarrow and have a bunch of Dwarflings. But it is probably not seen as a catastrophe, if the lass in question turns out to be dedicated to her craft, prefer Dams, or comes out as a trans guy.

Since the working class, especially the miners, are all the way down in the line of payment (they do most of the work, but most of the earnings go to the mine owners), it is probably common for Dams to work to provide for the family and only halt work during pregnancy and childbed, which means that gender roles per se are less strict in the working class. Female nobles, on the other hand, probably focus on marriage (which might be politically motivated) and children, since they have the line of their own families and the one of their husbands to secure. In this scenario, the coming out of the sole daughter as a trans guy must be seen as a lot more threatening.

After focusing on afab trans people, let us look at amab trans people. Since in this scenario Dwarrows are a lot more common, it is probably more accepted for them to be dedicated to their craft (=asexual) or to marry other male Dwarves. This might mean that they have in general more freedom how they live their lives, which could also mean that a son coming out as a trans gal is less seen as a catastrophe in comparison to afab people, though it’s probably still not easy, due to factors like the influence of Dwarven religion, and even more so in noble families.

If we look at the nobles in the company, all of them appear to be warriors (alongside their crafts), which could mean in conclusion that it is in general expected for noble sons to become fierce warriors, so noble parents are probably not thrilled, if their son comes out as a trans gal, especially, if she wishes to focus on marriage and such.

So, in conclusion:

If “a lass declares herself a lad” (=comes out as a trans guy), this is often seen as a tragedy, but somewhat tolerated (though not happily), as long as the lad in question is still willing to make use of Mahal’s gift (=wed and have children). If the lad in question refuses this, it is seen as a shame, similar to a cis lass, who refuses to have children, especially in noble families.

If “a lad declares himself a lass” (=comes out as a trans gal), the reactions are probably a lot milder due the to the lack of Dwarrowdams, but especially noble parents are still not thrilled, since sons are expected to be warriors, a path which is usually only available to lads.

Nonbinary people are treated accordingly, with an unfortunate focus on the gender they were assigned at birth with. This is obviously a very unpleasant and distressing situation for the nonbinary Dwarf in question, so they have a hard time.

I like to think, that Thorin follows his grandfather’s example and doesn’t criminalize being trans, since a) he does strike me as a kind person in general (if he isn’t on a quest of life and death), and b) he is probably also in no position to banish a Dwarf willing to work, since Thorin’s Hall (=their city in the Blue Mountains) is still rather young. Imagine the scenario of for example one of the few midwives coming out as trans. No way Thorin is going to kick them out of the city.

So, all in all: being trans is not a crime anymore for more than two hundred years (since Thrór returned to Erebor from the Grey Mountains), which means that the amount of disapproval in society probably also softened, though it is still frowned upon, especially in noble families and especially for afab people, which means that noble afab trans people have the most difficulties. As you can see, the view on trans people in this scenario is influenced by several factors like gender roles, sexism, spiritualism, social station, historic tragedies and such.

And now, with that in mind, let’s deal with the actual question: how does Thorin’s Company react to a trans person?

(if you made it this far, despite my verbose rambling, you have my deepest respect, lmao)

Thorin:

As the crown prince and heir, he received a very traditional upbringing in Erebor, which results in quite conservative opinions towards the role of Dwarrowdams and trans Dwarves in general. He still follows his grandfather’s example, and so it is not illegal to be trans in Thorin’s Hall, and one can even go to the city hall and change their name there.

His motto is: “Even if we do not agree with the choices of our fellow Dwarves, we will accept them and value their contribution to our society.”

That is all he will say about the topic and keep his own opinion to himself. Following this mantra, he will treat a trans member of the company with politeness and put a stop to any conflicts due to the subject matter, though he will keep his distance.

But what now, if a loved one comes out as trans? Like Fíli in my fic?

He’s struggling. He searches for a reason, probably blames himself, and has a very hard time in general. At the same time, the coming out explains so much, especially how unhappy the loved one in question has been for a long time. So, he shifts between his conservative views and the affection for his loved one, and in the end, he tolerates it, even if he is not pleased about it. He also does anything in his power to make things easier for the person, since he doesn’t want them to suffer anymore, though there would be a lot of very uncomfortable discussions about the topic in the beginning, with Thorin probably hoping that they change their mind and everything returns to ‘normal’.

But with some time, I think, he will truly come around, especially if we are indeed talking about his nephews, whom he loves very much. And one day, he will suddenly pause and realize that he isn’t bothered by it anymore and his own struggle in the past seems very far away. He then seeks to talk with the person and apologizes for his negativity in the beginning, and also works on repairing their relationship, since he is aware that he caused a lot of hurt with his behaviour.

Balin:

Balin lived through so many hardships that he early on started to question the values he was taught as a lad. As far as he can tell, everybody is just looking for a way to find happiness in a bleak world, and why would he make it any harder for them than it already is?

So, he’s very accepting, not matter if we are talking about a new person he meets or about a loved one.

Dwalin:

Dwalin might appear very intense in the beginning, but is actually a rather chill guy, when you get to know him better (at least to a certain degree. Let’s not talk about Elves). He doesn’t really care about what other people do in their private lives and has a similar opinion like his brother, especially after the horrors of Azanulbizar.

“Aye, what does that mean now? What words do I use, when I talk about you? Uh-huh, uh-huh. Alright.”

And that’s it.

Fíli:

I love the headcanon of Fíli being a trans guy, because it brings some suspense into the line of succession, since afab people are (in this scenario) usually not in line for the throne, but Fíli is better suited to be King than Kíli (especially in Kíli’s opinion), and it would also challenge Thorin’s views. Would he accept Fíli to the extent that he would declare him his heir? And if so, how is the process of getting there? Lots and lots of interesting questions!

And as a cis dude meeting a trans person for the first time?

He is slightly confused about it, but like Dwalin he just approaches them (with a puzzled Kíli looming behind him) and listens carefully. He accepts it and probably smooths the waters silently in the background with the less tolerant members of the company, so that it wouldn’t become a big deal.

Kíli:

If the trans person is Fíli? 100% accepting, even before he actually understands what is going on. He just wants his sibling to be happy. And if anybody says anything against it? The lad will throw hands. He’s also very excited to help pick out a new name for his sibling. (“It has to end with -li, so everybody knows we belong together!”)

And with every other person? Very confused in the beginning. Like always, he sends his brother ahead to nose out the unknown situation, before he swoops in with friendly curiosity.

At one point, his questions probably get way too private, but after Fíli tells him so, he’s embarrassed and apologizes. It is easy to forgive him, since he doesn’t mean any harm, and also, surprisingly, turns out to be most considerate one of the whole company (aside from Óin), for example with the bathing arrangements and such.

Though he would be really mystified in the beginning.

(“Fíli… psst!, Fíli! … this is so confusing. What… what if I turn out to be a lass?”

“Then you just happen to be one and I will love you all the same and stab everybody teasing you about it. And now shut up and go to sleep.”)

He also takes joy in correcting people using the wrong name or pronouns, to the point that everybody is annoyed, but Kíli has a great time.

Óin:

As a healer and midwife, he meets a lot of people with very different lives everyday and is known to be accepting, so a lot of the trans population of Thorin’s Hall goes to Óin, when they have a medical issue. He will treat them with respect, and he is also very discreet. (Here are more Óin headcanons)

Glóin:

He has a hard time. He doesn’t understand, why anyone would question Mahal’s decision to make them the way they are. He doesn’t attack anybody, but he keeps his distance. He’s also very annoyed, because Kíli corrects him loudly, whenever he gets it wrong.

Until he suddenly doesn’t mind anymore, because at one point he finally understands that it isn’t such a big deal, and they are just a person like everybody else. Then he starts to be surprisingly protective.

ftm/mtf: “Oi! That is our lad/lass, you are talking about!”

nb: “Oi, that is our – our – our what now? – our person you are talking about!”

(he a little confused, but he got the spirit)

Dori:

Dori is very proper and values good manners, so he’s very respectful about the whole affair and takes great care to use the right pronouns and the right name. His own private opinion is not important and also stays a mystery.

He likes to judgingly side-eye everybody, who gets it wrong. (with Kíli cheerfully correcting them in the background)

Nori:

I love to headcanon Nori as trans.

And if he’s cis? He doesn’t give a shit, since his own concept of gender is kind of casual. He doesn’t think in categories like male or female. Everybody is the same to him: a wandering wallet waiting to be pickpocket.

Ori:

He’s very excited, since he recently read interesting literature about the history of “the ones, who change their path” (=trans people), and would love to talk about the topic in depth. The trans person is probably slightly overwhelmed at one point, but he’s very sweet about it and means well, and he also dishes out very subtle digs at anybody, who’s not nice about it.

Bifur:

He listens carefully and then he signs: “Tell me, if I get it wrong.”

Though he doesn’t, not even once.

If there are bad reactions, Bifur dislikes that very much, since he knows how it is to be dismissed due to his injury. He gives the rude person a bombastic stink-eye, while sneaking the trans person little things, like berries he picked, to lift their mood.

Bofur:

Another one I love to headcanon as trans.

And as a cis dude: Everyone knows Bofur and Bofur knows everyone, and so he also knows quite a lot of trans people. So, he’s not confused in the slightest, and just very casually accepts it.

Bombur:

He’s accepting, but very nervous, since he doesn’t want to get it wrong and offend anybody. Unfortunately, he’s so nervous, he accidently gets everything wrong, one can get wrong, and is mortified about it. He apologizes profusely.

After a few days he gets used to it and calms down, and then it is not a big deal anymore.

Bilbo:

Bilbo appears to have never heard about trans people before and listens attentively. He’s very polite and respectful about it.

At one point he suddenly talks about his one uncle, “who used to be an aunt”. The Dwarves are like, “And why the fuck did we had to explain it in such detail, if you already knew about it?”

Bilbo stuffs his pipe, shrugs, and says: “One can never be careful enough about cultural differences.”

Gandalf:

He’s very accepting.

He also says something very obscure about life in general, while smoking his pipe and staring meaningful into the distance. Then he says something even more confusing about the genders of wizards, before wandering off into the fog to not be seen for the next few days without another word.

Afterwards everybody is very puzzled and wonders, what that was now supposed to mean. 

And that's it! Sorry for the long wait. It got longer than expected and I also got a little self-conscious about it, since there are already so many great headcanons about trans Dwarves, but maybe someone still finds some enjoyment in my take :)

[strawbeerossi]

I seen that you write angst and I have an idea to share with you because of some personal things that I went through with my own family.

Do you think you can write something about fem!reader and Spencer finding out that one of their children has leukemia? Maybe with death involved to show how intricate this situation can affect families? I know it’s a very loaded topic so I completely understand if you don’t wanna do it but I think you’d master the topic beautifully based off of your angst writing. ❤️

I hope you’re doing alright today, Tay

First off, I’m so sorry for your loss, lovebug. I hope I do this justice and thank you for trusting me with this topic. My DMs are open if you ever need to talk. 🩵

And I'm good today, thank you, honey.

Vilomah: Bereaved Parents

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After their son succumbs to his illness, the Reid parents have to navigate the grieving process together along with the team who are there to help.

Content Warning: Child death, leukemia, details about a hospital stay, extreme grief after loss, a child’s funeral, parental grief, mentions struggles with eating, spousal argument, lots of tears, descriptions of feeling empty and depression, the team is there for the Reids, spousal comfort, hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 3.3K

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I cried like a baby writing this. I hope I captured what you were looking for anon.

“Memories saturate my heart and the story of you spills from my eyes.” – Grace Andren

There were many horrors that Spencer faced in his line of work; murderers, rapists, cannibals, the lot of it. He was also faced with grief more often than not, losing Maeve and Gideon being the two most notable times where he was forced to face the fact that everybody dies at some point, no matter who they are. 

That wasn’t enough to prepare him for the cruelest thing life had to throw at him. Benjamin was diagnosed with leukemia when he was just two months shy of four-years-old, more specifically it was Chronic Myeloid Leukemia. 

The first few months were seemingly okay. He was responding well with the treatment, his little body growing stronger with each passing day. There were plenty of ice cream days to celebrate whenever Ben could function as good as he could before the cancer. Not to mention all the gifts his aunt Penelope would send.

There was hope, so much hope that Y/N and Spencer didn’t let the thoughts of losing their son loom over their head.

That was until he got sick again, this time much worse. It happened suddenly, Ben went from eating some fruit snacks and watching a movie to losing consciousness and growing pale. Spencer never thought he could get home faster than what he did when he got the phone call. Emily sent him home immediately after hearing the news, telling him to get home to his family and that she would check in.

The next few weeks were spent in the hospital, the bright lights being harsh on the eyes of the sore eyes of the Reid parents. Y/N didn’t sleep but for a few hours a night, any small movement or sound from Ben or his machines waking her up. Spencer had grown to not sleep for that long, surviving off maybe an hour a night and ten cups of coffee to push forward the following morning.

However, the suffocating realization of the inevitable was starting to soak in. Spencer wanted nothing more than for his son to make a recovery but as a man of science, that hope dissipated as he noticed the signs. People got better before death, so whenever Ben was showing all the signs of surging, it was enough to kill Spencer.

Even after they had a conversation with their doctor, the woman telling them that surging typically happens one to two days before death, it was like Y/N wouldn’t take that. She would say that he was fine, that he was healing. 

It was denial. 

The day they lost him was the hardest of them all. The air was suffocating that morning, there being a bitter winter chill. Spencer had gone to work, as usual. There was a case, one about a man who was killing women who resembled his birth mother after she rejected him from her life. He was distracted, like any father on the verge of losing his child would be.

He knew he shouldn’t have gone to work but he was losing his mind, being overwhelmed with the knowledge of the inevitable. He liked to think that if he and Y/N didn’t discuss it, it wasn’t real. As a man of science, he knew the risks of believing something like that.

Still, he gave himself false hope. 

However, his heart stopped beating for a split second as he could feel his phone buzzing, the world freezing around him as he couldn’t hear the others around him. He knew what this call was. It took JJ shaking Spencer’s shoulders to snap him out of his thoughts. “I have to go.” 

Making it to the hospital, he dreaded going inside. However, he was running through the hospital doors not bothering to check in at the front desk as he was going as fast as his legs could carry him to reach his son’s hospital room. 

Judging by the heart wrenching screams of agony from his wife on the other side of the door, Spencer knew what to expect as his shaking hand was opening the hospital door. The sight of his wife cradling their son was enough to make him drop to his knees. 

The nurses and doctors looked at the small family, feeling the sting of heartache as they’d gotten to know the Reid’s over the past year.

Spencer’s legs were like jelly, the tears cascading his face being enough where he was sure he could fill up the hospital room in tears, enough to drown in. They were able to stay as long as they wanted to, even if it was hours later. 

“Do you have his blanket?” Y/N asked, voice raw from the screaming and uncontrollable sobbing from before. “I don’t want him to get cold..” She whispered, looking at their son who looked like he was sleeping against his father’s chest. “In the bag.” The words were shaky, the father keeping his son close while letting his forehead rest against Benjamin’s smaller one.

After they were laying the little boy down again, Y/N was slowly putting the blanket over the child before she was leaning down to kiss his forehead, which had begun to grow cold from the hours his parents took to say goodbye. The parents clung to one another as they were being forced to walk out of the hospital. 

After that, their life lost all its color. Waking up to an alarm rather than to a happy little boy jumping on their bed just wasn’t the same. There was no laughter in the house, no warmth. The atmosphere was just as cold as the weather outside. No matter how many days that Penelope came over with baskets filled with small goodies to try and lift their spirits, or how Luke would come by to check in and bring food over that the two parents just couldn’t stomach.

The day of the funeral was when every ounce of denial was fizzing away. Next came anger. Y/N was moving a bit slow, honestly not wanting to rush and be greeted with the sad looks of their friends and family. Spencer was ready twenty minutes prior, wanting to rush the grieving process and just accept everything immediately, even if it was impossible.

“Please hurry up.” His voice was laced with irritation, making wife look up from her shoes as she was playing with the strap. “I am hurrying..” She spoke softly, a frown on her face as she slowly got the shoes on. “You don’t have to have an attitude, by the way.” 

That was the start of something ugly.

“Well, you don’t have to take thirty years and expect Benji to walk through the door.” The words were deep cutting, very uncharacteristic of the loving man she married.The words had his wife stunned in place, her mouth falling open. “You don’t have to be an asshole and keep reminding me of where we are going.” She spat, moving to brush her hair back before standing.

“You can’t keep acting like things are going to change. He’s gone, Y/N. No matter how bad we want him back, we will never get him back.” They were growing angry at one another at the wrong time. Before the yelling could start, there was a soft knock on the door. With a soft sigh, Spencer was turning around and heading to the sound of the soft knocking. 

The sight behind the door was enough to make his heart clench. There was Derek, the man offering a sad smile. “Hey, kid. I came to pick you two up. How’s the missus doing?” He asked, chuckling as Spencer was rushing to tightly hug his best friend, his hand slowly patting the younger male’s back. “Hi Derek.” Y/N offered a weak smile once she was closing the bedroom door. 

“Hey mama.” His voice was soft and careful, heading over to wrap his arms around the woman before kissing her cheek. “I was thinking that after everything, we could all go out to lunch.” He wasn’t stupid, he could tell that the two parents were neglecting themselves, he’d talked to the team. 

This was a sensitive time, so he understood. However, he wasn’t going to sit idly by either. He’d be damned if he let them both slowly waste away. Benjamin sure as hell wouldn’t have wanted that. 

“I don’t know, Derek. I don’t think I can deal with everyone looking at us with pity. You know how many people have told me that they hugged their babies tighter because of this situation? It hurts. Not nearly as helpful as people think..” The woman spoke while slowly rubbing her face.

“It’ll just be us. The team, our family.” He attempted to coax both parents, the two not being able to get out of it in the end.

The three eventually made it to the graveyard where they were confronting the one thing that they didn’t want to face. The Reids were approaching the plot that they’d purchased for the family, Y/N having to collect herself at the sight of the coffin waiting by the open plot. 

“There you two are,” Penelope looked like she’d been sobbing already, her arms wrapping tightly around both parents. That was where the floodgates broke, both of them tightly clutching onto the blonde enough to suffocate her. 

The ceremony was beautiful, despite the flood of tears and pain deep in the chests of all that were closest to the child who they were laying to rest. It was something honorable, Benji even having his uncle Aaron there to say a final goodbye. Even surrounded by love, there was still an emptiness, a void that would never be filled. 

What came next made things worse, the parents having to say goodbye as soon as the casket was being lowered in its plot, Y/N and Spencer wrapped up in one another’s embrace while their hands were clutching each other’s clothing. The wife was letting her head rest against her husband’s shoulder, their tears soaking one another’s clothes and hair.

It was just them now, with the ghost of their sweet angel who would keep a watchful eye over his parents, whether they knew it or not.

Dave was approaching the parents, his hand resting on Spencer’s shoulder as he cleared his throat to catch their attention. “I want you both to know that I will be here for you both, always.” David Rossi, the father of the team, it seemed. As well as being uncle Dave to all the kids, Benji included. 

“I heard that you two agreed to come to lunch.” He spoke softly, eliciting a small smile from Y/N. “We are.” She said softly, truly unable to say no to him. “We are having it in my backyard. Why don’t you two ride with me?” He suggested, making both Spencer and his wife look at one another.

They weren't getting out of this, so they complied and followed behind David.

The only problem was that so many amazing things happened in that backyard, Benji’s baby shower being one of them.

“Baby Reid is getting so big,” JJ gushed, her hand on Y/N’s swollen bump as the woman laughed in content. “Isn’t he? He’s also been kicking the hell out of my ribs, I feel like he's punishing me.” Y/N joked.

Finding out that she was pregnant was the best thing that ever happened. Of course, there were jokes of Spencer and Y/N not even waiting a year after they got married before she was already pregnant.

It was funny, really. Spencer was highly convinced that the baby was conceived on the first week of their honeymoon, the two being a little too into that talk while they were in the middle of sex, the filthy words of her being swollen with his baby becoming literal.

Diana was thrilled the moment that she saw her son and his wife on one of their visits, the woman being more thrilled at the prospect of her little Spencer having a child of his own. She would say that she knew before they even told her. 

“Mothers always know, Spencer. We are animals, we can feel things.” Were her exact words, something that she said Y/N would understand one day.

“Bella!” David smiled, the term of endearment being a newer one that he used for Y/N after the pregnancy, something about how she looked gorgeous because she was glowing. It was sweet, she had to admit it. “Hi, David.” Y/N grinned, her arms wrapping around the older man in a hug before she was pulling away. “You and Penelope did a beautiful job, by the way!”

Almost as if she were summoned, the bubbly blonde was hurrying over to flash a smile. “There you are my gorgeous girl! How are you feeling?” She asked, her hand cautiously rubbing her baby bump once Y/N gave her the okay.

“I’m doing good, actually. This boy is gonna be the death of me though. I was craving dirt the other day.” Her nose crinkled. “Weirdness. However, this baby is a Reid so that’ll explain it better than anything else.” Penelope joked. 

“It’s actually more normal than you might think. One theory links pica cravings to iron deficiencies. Another theory suggests these cravings develop as an adaptive response to the way the immune system changes during pregnancy.” Spencer smiled while letting his arms wrap around his wife from behind, his lips pressing a kiss to her cheek before his hands were coming underneath the heavy bump, lifting it up gently to take some of the pain from his wife’s back.

It was enough to make the woman sigh of relief as her head was tilted back against his shoulder. “You are such a lifesaver.” She breathed while briefly closing her eyes. 

Spencer was attentive and loving, paying attention to her much more after the pregnancy was discovered.

This was a dream.

This was a nightmare, the memories rushing back to Y/N as she was walking into the backyard where all those sweet memories lived. It was emotionally draining, so much so that her hand was reaching aimlessly for Spencer’s.

As soon as her husband realized what she was doing, he was slowly approaching his wife and letting his hand tightly grip onto hers. He didn’t realize how bad they needed this, to have a reminder that they still had each other. He figured it was implied but this made a bit of weight lift off his chest. 

“I know it may be a bit hard to laugh right now,” Penelope began as she was offering a smile. “But I know how much Benji used to love having dinner with all of us, no matter where we went.” She began, making a soft, sad smile spreading across Y/N’s face. 

“So, I figured that I would honor one of my favorite godson’s in the best way possible. Instead of boring adult food, I made extra sure to get the best of the best.” Being a four-year-old, Benjamin was just as picky as the next kid. 

“Don’t tell me,” Spencer began, looking over as she was happily showing off the meal she had catered. It consisted of all the essential food groups of a young child; chicken nuggets, macaroni and cheese, and french fries. 

Hank, Michael, Henry, the Simmons children and Jack were all over the idea of that. The adults, though, couldn’t help the soft laughter. “Benji would definitely approve.” Y/N offered a soft smile, shaking her head fondly. “Even up until the end, he had to have his nuggets.” Spencer added, a few tears springing up in his eyes at the pleasant memory, even in the darkest time of their lives.

“I don’t want that..” Benjamin wrinkled his nose as he was pushing away the soup that the hospital was giving him, making Spencer look up from his book. “It’s good for you, Benji. Try it.” He urged on, a smile as he put the book down after finding his bookmark. 

“Daddy, no. It’s yucky. It smells yucky.” He continued on, the four year old running the spoon through the bowl.

Like his mother, he was dramatic about it, gagging at the mere thought of eating what he was given. “I want chicken nuggets.” He whined out, now looking at his mother, who was sighing in content. 

“Take a few bites and try it! If you try it and you don’t like it, I’ll go get you some nuggets. Sounds fair?” She asked, keeping the stern tone yet offering a sweet smile, knowing damn well that he’d get his way in the end anyway. Even if he liked the soup.

“I’ll try it but I might be sick, mama.” He warned, looking at the broth with vegetables before he was taking a good amount on the spoon.

He eyed it over before pushing it into his mouth. Both parents couldn’t help the laughter falling from their lips as Benji pulled a face, looking offended he was even made to try it.

“Blegh! Nasty!” The animated child was pushing the tray table away as Y/N was already getting up to grab her keys. “I’m going! I’m going! Make sure that you watch your daddy, you know he likes getting into too much trouble.” 

As everyone had a plate in front of them, everyone was looking at the Reids, expectant of them to get up. Derek was the one who was already making two plates before placing them down in front of the two. “There you are pretty boy and pretty girl, no need to get up.” He knew what he was doing.

Even with the lack of appetite, Y/N was slowly picking up her fork before collecting a bit of the mac and cheese on her fork, slowly moving to push the fork in her mouth. She didn’t realize just how hungry she was before that bite. Of course, barely eating for two weeks would do that to you.

Spencer seemed to be on the same page, the two unknowingly eating like they hadn’t eaten in years. The group said nothing about it, although they shared collective glances and their eyes were glistening over with relief. 

They were eating enough to actually keep themselves alive, to keep themselves from falling ill and being stuck in the hospital being fed through IVs. After all they went through, they didn’t need to be in another hospital for a long time.

The rest of the day was spent with their family rather than them being locked up at home, real smiles gracing their features for the first time in forever. Being together in a quiet home was taking a huge hit at their mental health. 

This was what they needed. Their full support system. 

It was later on in the evening before Y/N and Spencer had gotten home, the two ordering takeout for dinner whenever they arrived at home. The wife was looking over the picture of their family that she had hanging up in the kitchen, a soft smile on her face. He looked so peaceful today, didn’t he?” She asked, her voice soft.

“No more pain, no more weakness.. Just peaceful.” Spencer added on, looking up from his hands. “Y/N.. I’m sorry about what I said earlier. It was horrible to say,” He said as his wife was offering a gentle smile. “I understand. It’s hard right now but.. Spencer, I love you. With every fiber of my being. Please remember that.”

It was what he needed to hear, his head nodding. “I know. I love you so much, baby. Thank you. I’m here for you, even if you just need to cry and be taken care of.” The taller man was standing up before heading over to tightly hug his wife. “You’re so strong. So fucking strong.” He spoke softly while kissing the top of her head. 

All they needed to power through this together was each other, they would make it through this for Benji over all else. It was what he would've wanted , their love to persevere. 

[gallusrostromegalus]

Actually on the subject of anime/ whatever your preferred young adult media is and having terrible parents, what is Ichigo's dad going to be like?

(I have like less than passing knowledge on bleach but I know a lot of people don't like his dad and I am definitely going to read AEIWAM because it sounds fantastic and I'd love to hear more)

Actually I'd love to hear more about any of the parents, I've never really gotten why people want parents to be more active in the escapist stories but now I've read a couyple really good fics and stories with it and yeah I get it now and think there should be more of it. It's great

Anyways I'd love to hear about more of any of the parents (sorry for being a bit vague I don't really know the characters and it sounds like talking about some of the parents mentioned might be spoilers but I am so excited for the fic it sounds really cool! May you have a lovely time writing and creating with it!)

You have excellent taste in freshwater fish, so of course I'll oblige. It's key to remember that I've taken an excavator to the backstory of a good many characters in the fic.

So Isshin is a... marginally better dad? I think it's fundamental to his characterization that he's kind of a fuckup who prefers to avoid interpersonal conflict, which is not a sin, but it does not make good parent material in a shonen series.

So AEIWAM!Isshin... Kind of tells the kids the truth- or at least, the stuff necessary to keep them safe.

The way he tells it, there was a shinigami that lived in his family's attic when he was a little boy- that part is kind of true! In canon, all the shinigami that turn up in Karkura town have nowhere to stay and end up crashing at the houses of psychically aware people. He tells the kids that the Shinigami's name was Kaien Shiba, so if he started telling stories about his favorite nephew, it's just the guy who lived in his attic!

...Which is why he knows all about hollows, and tells his young children about them and to avoid them at all costs, especially after three-year-old Ichigo points at one circling over the house and asks what the "Big Bird" is. He signs Ichigo up for Karate that afternoon, because if his son inherited either of his parent's powers, he's going to need to learn to defend himself.

Isshin also explains why his children can see ghosts and he can't, as well as the fact that they never see their grandparents AND how he met their mother in the same story- What actually happened was that Isshin had met Masaki, an escapee of the Quincy cult (previously engaged to her cousin, Ryuken, who ALSO did not want to be engaged to his cousin, partly because Ew and partly because he was already married) and dying of hollow poisoning, and did a magical blood transfusion to save her, losing his shinigami powers and committing some mild treason in the process.

What Isshin and Masaki tell their children is that Isshin used to be able to see ghosts, just like them, but when he was a young man, he and his parents were out driving and got hit by a truck. They died immediately, but Isshin had a serious head injury and spent months in the hospital. But! In the next hospital bed over was a young woman who had recently lost her family as well, and had fallen gravely ill. Love may or may not be able to bloom on the battlefield, but it can bloom in the Hospital ICU. Mommy and Daddy's friend Ryuken is Masaki's cousin who treated both of them in the hospital. That part is even true!

Speaking of Ryuken Ishida, he's also trying his best.

He had a terrible loss some nine years ago, when his wife, Kanae, died. Ryuken was a pureblood (read: Highly Inbred. White-haired Anime Boy syndrome has the same cause and detrimental health effects as high-white merele in dogs) Quincy, but his wife was not, and when Yhwach decided to do The Big Slurpy where he sucked the soul energy out of every descendant of his except one particular line, she decided to go down swinging and take as much of the Quincy cult out with her as she could. Like Uryuu did in canon, she used her powers until they burnt right out of her soul and killed her, rather than let that cancerous, cult-leading sonofabitch go after her family.

Ryuken then had another terrible shock a year later when his father-in-law was killed by hollows while secretly training his son in the Quincy arts, something Ryuken had explicitly forbidden, but Soken thought it important that Young Uryuu at least learn to control his inherited abilities. Uryuu was saved from the same fate by an exceptionally powerful hollow that tore the others limb from limb as soon as she recognized the frightened cries of her son.

Much like his friend Isshin, sometimes true love can be found in the midst of tragedy, and now Ryuken and Kanae are reunited and raising Uryuu together. Karkura has more than it's fair share of hollows, and so she's on a modified Santa Clarita Diet to keep her hunger at bay. She's doing quite well on it even! It's a bit strange to say, but Ryuken is possibly even more madly in love with her now that she's a hulking monstrosity with an appetite for flesh than when she was still human.

[andreal831]

Do youn think Esther loved all of her children equally and how her relation with Elijah was?

I think Esther is a lot more of a complex character than people want her to be. It's easier if she can just be painted as an awful mother. But it is clear Esther did love her kids, all of them. Just differently. I don't think you can truly measure love in quantity, but she definitely had favorites and least favorites.

Esther loved Freya so much that losing Freya fundamentally changed who she was. She wanted to be a mother so badly that she was willing to do anything to make it happen. People often blame her more for trading Freya for the ability to have children, but don't blame Dahlia for making her own sister trade away her first child. Esther was young when she made that deal and didn't fully know what it meant. She also probably naively believed her sister wouldn't steal her child. But she loved Freya dearly.

Esther also loved Finn a great deal however their relationship grew twisted and toxic because of the loss they both shared. She essentially trauma bonded with her four year old child. Finn's trauma is rarely discussed but it is clear that his mother became his safety after losing Freya. He would do anything for her and Esther exploited this at times and even used him for emotional support. She did love Finn, but the trauma colored that love.

Elijah is her least favorite child. She basically admits it when she tells Klaus that he brought joy to their lives and made them a family again after losing Freya. She was heavily pregnant with Elijah when she lost Freya meaning Elijah's birth and multiple years of life did not bring their family joy or make them feel like a family. Although it's important to remember that while pregnant, she lost her child and moved across the ocean to a new land where she was alone with a volatile husband as this was also the period where Mikael starts becoming a bad/potentially abusive husband. I can't imagine she didn't experience some level of post-partum depression after having him. To top it off, Elijah favors Dahlia more than either of his parents. He likely reminded her of her sister and everything she had lost.

She views Elijah as more of a second parent. She expects him to always behave and keep his siblings in line. When the others step out of line, she has more sympathy for them. She offers Finn, Kol, Klaus, and Rebekah second chances in witch bodies but tortures Elijah, mocking him for what he is and that he is no longer her "noble son." We never see any exchanges between Elijah and Esther that have any type of warmth. This doesn't mean she didn't love him, but hey have a very strained/neglectful relationship.

Klaus is her favorite child. He was the only child she had with the man she truly loved. Even though Klaus seemed to get the brunt of Mikael's anger, he also gets the most protection from Esther. To the point that Finn is jealous of this attention. Klaus arguably did the absolute most vile deeds that should disgust Esther but she still showed love and compassion to him. He was the problematic child that could do no wrong.

Kol is pretty low on the ranks but still above Elijah simply because he had magic. Esther would have wanted to pass on her magic somewhere even is she wasn't truly practicing. She would have loved it but also feared it. Kol would have also driven her crazy because he was always so independent and often getting in trouble.

Rebekah has a special place in her mother's heart as the only daughter she had after losing Freya. It would have been painful at first as she looked so much like the child Esther lost, but she would have viewed it as a second chance. Rebekah always had a soft spot for Esther and losing her mother devastated her.

Henrik is pretty high at the top simply because he is the youngest. Henrik seemed to have a happy spirit from the few brief moments we see him. The baby of the family is always special. His death sent Esther into such a spiral that she created vampirism.

None of this means I think Esther is an awful mother. There are definitely terrible things she does, but at the end of it, she truly loved her children. Was she the best mother in the word, no. But we have to remember she was a young woman who was also a victim.

Thanks for the ask!

[yanderes-galore]

Since there's no God of War fic here yet, could you write somwthing for Freya/Frigg (her obssession can start with the 2018 game and gets more intense in Ragnarok when she's an ally to Kratos). Reader helps Kratos on his journey and despises Odin as much as her, which makes her have a conection with them.

(This woman literally made her son immortal and invulnerable to almost everything just to protect him, imagine what she would do for her darling).

-🐻

Honestly, she's also quite an intense yandere. I'd love to! I utilized some of the plot elements you gave me but also just gave my general view of her as a yandere.

Yandere! Freya Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of loss, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Isolation, Violence, Stalking, Trauma, Forced immortality, Self-destructive behavior, Paranoia, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Honestly, while Kratos is intense because he's brutal...

Freya is intense because she's smothering.

She, like Kratos, has lost many people close to her already.

Both of them have a fear of loss that drives them crazy.

Freya would meet you around the 2018 game.

Despite the distrusting nature of Kratos she sees you are an ally of him and his son.

You probably don't know much about Odin until Ragnarök's events take place.

That is unless you know about her legend and past... even then she may have to tell you about it.

You are right that Freya would go to great lengths to protect you.

She protected Baldur with a spell that made him immortal yet unfeeling, she healed Atreus...

If she cares for someone enough she'll do everything she can to protect them.

Even after Kratos kills her son she wouldn't hate you.

Freya is a motherly yandere who is suffocating with her affection.

She hasn't truly loved anyone as a spouse due to her experiences with Odin.

But she certainly has a connection to children.

When it comes to the one she loves she'll do everything in her power to protect them.

Considering how she's a God, that's a lot of power.

She would feel guilty and bad if her ways of protecting you made you unhappy, but she prefers that over losing you.

Don't be surprised if Freya gives you an immortality spell similar to Baldur's.

She may even try to keep you isolated just to hide you from Odin.

If you also hated Odin it only feeds into her feelings towards you.

Freya has trauma due to Odin.

As a result she views you as someone to cling to, someone to heal her inner pain.

Especially after the death of Baldur, her son.

While she is an ally to Kratos in the 2018 game she isn't as obsessed, she's protective but hasn't fallen for you fully yet.

After the death of Baldur she stalks you along with Kratos.

Freya hates that you still work with Kratos instead of siding with her.

Which only fuels her attempts of killing Kratos.

She means you no harm, yet I suggest not trusting any eagles.

She may just be watching.

Her obsession fully situates when she joins Kratos again.

She no longer wants to kill the man... plus she's a bit envious that he's around you all the time.

You're so much different than Odin... and you hate the man too.

As Ragnarök unfolds, Freya feels she needs you.

To her... you may be the cure for her trauma.

Because of this she begins to pursue you.

Now let me say this, Freya may be even harder to leave than Kratos.

She has many spells and tricks to her advantage.

She can disguise herself, make you immortal, isolate you....

If Freya feels there's a way to protect you she'll pursue it.

Even if you begin to hate her... Freya accepts it.

She loves you too much to just lose you.

She fears your death, she fears you running off...

She'd rather perish than give you up.

Speaking of which, Freya would sacrifice herself to protect you.

She could care less what happened to her at times, just as long as you're alive she's happy.

Freya can't wait until Odin is dead, honestly.

By the end of Ragnarök she's ready to make you her true spouse.

One she wishes to marry out of love... not out of obligation.

Freya can be extremely caring.

Being with her isn't too bad....

But since you most likely have the immortality spell on you, you can't feel much.

In fact... you feel a bit broken and frustrated.

Freya ends up recreating the pain she inflicted on her son with you.

You begin to resent her because she'd rather keep you safe than happy.

No matter how much she says she loves you, no matter how many kisses she gives you...

You feel nothing.

Yet Freya doesn't care in the end... because at least she has you... safe and sound.

[m4gp13]

Okay time to talk about Al's hero complex and Ethan's martyr complex more in-depth because I love it so much <3

Al's hero complex is pretty obvious. He thinks he's Katniss Everdeen fighting a valiant battle against the Capitol because no one told him he's not the main character. He sees himself and those who agree with him as the Heroes (tm) while any who oppose them are the Villains of Unrivalled Evil because obviously his people wouldn't be fighting them if they were anything less. Al definitely has the overwhelming optimistic approach of a heroic paragon who believes it's impossible for him to fail because he's the good guy and good guys always win (Ladies, Gentlemen and Assorted Genders I would now like to direct your attention to "heroes never die, right?"). Which is how he ended up getting the remainder of his army massacred because he wouldn't accept defeat and pushed them on for a last-ditch attempt at victory. He's willing to sacrifice his people for the greater good, and in this way he and Percy are like the inverse of "Villains will sacrifice the world to save their loved ones, heroes will sacrifice their loved ones to save the world."

Al was the most powerful child of Hecate and as such was chosen to lead the rest of her children into battle. For such a young guy, this probably gave him a sense of grandeur, importance and self-respect which translates well into him seeing himself as the hero of his story. He had Luke and his propaganda to look up to, Mt Othrys to run things from and the Princess Andromeda to help things along, as well as a swarm of younger demigods who saw him as a hero. Now I'm not saying it all got to his head but that is pretty much what I'm saying. There's also Hecate, who is a pretty loving mother all things considered and was helping and supporting Alabaster and her children all the way through the war. With her encouragement exacerbating Al's self-righteousness instead of giving him a reality check, his hero complex could only grow until it made the Al we see in Son of Magic. He has lost everything and has never been in a worse place but he is still so sure of himself and his own moral superiority.

Ethan's martyr complex is a little more subtle but it's there if you're looking. My guy sacrificed his eye to his mother and was A-Okay with the arrangement. He was asked, from a very young age, to go through a lot of short-term physical pain with the result of a long-term disability in order to make a change in the world, which he agreed to. So he already doesn't think too highly of himself which is a great start! His mother uses him as a vehicle for her goals and he is aware of this and consenting to it. He has already relegated his own life as a tool for someone else. And then there's the arena battle in the labyrinth where he was very quick to offer Percy his own head on a platter. He was thinking very pragmatically at the time. He didn't seem to care much about "holy shit I'm going to die" and was instead just thinking "If he kills me then I die but if he spares me then we'll both die 2-1=1 so if we go with the first option then that will be one less death" HE DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK. His own life is something he can step back from, view in the context of the bigger picture and figure out how detrimental the loss of it would be to everything else going on around him. And then to further prove my point the last thing he ever does in the series is actually martyr himself to stop Kronos from ruining his mother's plans. Way to make it easier for me buddy.

As for how he ended up like this, his mother is fucking Nemesis. A hero complex and a martyr complex run antiparallel to each other with the key difference being that a hero will do whatever it takes to succeed while a martyr is all too happy to throw their life away for The Cause. In the eyes of a young child desperate to please his mother who is known for harshly punishing the prideful and arrogant of the world, being a hero who desires personal success and glory would be far too egotistical, and in order to be a hero his mother would approve of, he must be entirely selfless about it. She would despise anything else.

[pterodactylterrace]

What is your opinion of Rhaenyra as a mother? I constantly see people say that she is the best mother in ASOIAF but in my view ...she is far from it. I think that most of her actions are motivated by selfish ends, they sell her as a progressive and selfless woman for wanting her bastard children as heirs and not judging them by their origin, but the truth is that she is ashamed of theirorigin from there the drastic measures when someone brings it up, the problem is that this truth damages her own claim. She does not care about any inheritance rights other than her own, nor the good of her house, she is usurping through her bastard children all the legitimate Targaryens including her own minor sons who in the book are completely legitimate. Also her half-siblings and her cousins Baela and Rhaena, but what she does is not usurp in TB's eyes... There are also things that I don't understand if she is such a good mother, it doesn't make sense for Joffrey to be alone near the dragons when he was 3 years old, she doesn't react to the death of her little son Viserys, based on the text it seems like she doesn't give a shit, she only sad for Jacaerys. I don't feel that she protected her son Aegon, but rather that her son protected her, even if he was 10. She was organising a feast after Joffrey's appointment as heir when she had already lost several children ...and especially in her last moments she showed that she only cared about her pride by not asking for mercy for the only son she had left (it is always highlighted, this fact,and I think it's a very ugly detail, it's like I only care about you because you're the only thing I have left, you're not part of the sweets boys group). I don't know, in short I see her as too selfish to be considered a good mother.

You are exactly right. Rhaenyra is a very selfish person, and she makes a lot of brainless decisions.

In my eyes, she became a bad mother when she decided to have Luke. She took a chance with Jace, thinking he may look like her and no one would notice they weren’t Laenor’s. Having Jace was a bad decision, but she for some reason felt she needed an heir, and it apparently didn’t matter if they were legitimate or not. When he came out looking like Harwin, she should have stopped, but she pushed her luck, because why stop with just one?

For the record, this was a predicament of her own design. She was given the opportunity to choose her husband. Something most noble women are not given. She ended her match making tour months early, then got caught canoodling with Daemon in a brothel. To save whatever reputation she may have left, she is married to Laenor. Viserys does not know of his sexual preference, and Corlys and Rhaenys never bother telling him. Hell, when Rhaenyra decided she needed an heir to strengthen her claim, she could have just told her father that Laenor is impotent. The King could dissolve the marriage and she could find someone else. Instead, she chose to jeopardize her claim by putting illegitimate children in line for the succession.

Jace asks her point blank if he is a bastard and she doesn’t tell him. Maybe it’s me, but I don’t lie to my kids about big things like that. I was lied to about my parentage, and I still don’t trust my parents when they tell me anything. I also remember asking if I was adopted because things didn’t add up genetically. I was told no. Rhaenyra just tells him he is a Targaryen. Not the question he asked. He knows who is mother is, he is asking about his father.

Her sons lost their biological father and couldn’t even mourn. Meanwhile Rhaenyra is mourning the loss of her lover and Laena (they were friends in the book) by having sex with her creepy uncle at Laena’s funeral. Then she marries her Uncle like nine business seconds after they faked Laenor’s death. By sparing Laenor in the show, the show runners accidentally made her youngest three bastards as well, but at least she got better at hiding it. Everyone thinks the marriage was legit, so no one bats an eye.

Jace brings a blade to ambush whoever “stole” Vhagar. He’s how old? Like eight or something? What parent gives their eight year old a knife? Probably the same one that lets her 3 year old around dragons unsupervised. Castle doors are heavy, and a three year old isn’t going to “sneak” out. He had to be let out to see his dragon, and no adults were with him.

Back to the show, Rhaenyra shoot’s herself in the foot by barking out a story everyone already knows is cap the second she steps in the room. “MY sons were attacked and forced to defend themselves!” Seriously? Bitch, that quiet pause wasn’t everyone being stunned at the turn of events. That’s everyone going “this bitch serious? We already know the gist of it, and that kid is missing an eye.”

Now, no mother is going to let anyone take her kid’s eye. I completely agree on that part, but Luke still had a debt to pay. That debt came with interest. Each year that passed without any justice, the debt grew until it went from an eye to his life and his dragon.

Luke never learned his lesson. We see him giggling at his uncle when a roast pig is placed in front of him. So from permanently disfiguring a child when he was six to mocking the same person he disabled years later. Clearly Rhaenyra’s parenting never improves.

Rhaenyra’s children lack discipline. Just like her, they have no rules to follow and no consequences when they do something wrong. We never see Rhaenyra do any sort of good parenting. She just tells her children the opinions of others doesn’t matter, when it very much does in this universe. People not liking you gets the dragon pit stormed. Regular people killed more dragons than any other dragon has under their belt (save The Cannibal). Just regular humans did that because they were sick of her shit.

Given how horribly they were raised, I’m honestly kind of surprised they live as long as they do.

[ihopesocomic]

You've probably gotten a lot of messages like this before but I wanted to just thank you guys for showing a form of abuse that isn't only physical and still calling it abuse and not hand waving it away. So many stories that include abuse tend to assume that it only counts as abuse if it's physical. They ignore mental and emotional abuse entirely and if they do acknowledge it, it's portrayed as not that bad and something you need to forgive your abusers for.

As someone who's still coming to terms with my own experience with a similar kind of abuse that Adamant and Hope faced, your comic makes me feel seen and validated in my feelings and especially in my choice to cut off the family that hurt me. Seeing Adamant and Hope leave and not be shunned for it was such a relief and breath of fresh air after so much media tells you to forgive people who hurt you, especially if they are family.

again, thank you. I'm forever thankful this comic exists. you two are fantastic and I can't wait to see where the story goes :)

Thank you so so much, anon. We feel mixed emotions when we get asks like this because it's nice to hear but it's also so hard to hear our readers dealing with what we've dealt with and it's also hard to articulate how much we hear you and how sorry we are.

What you're saying is such a good point. Emotional abuse is so often discounted and watered down and even disregarded as being hurtful. It also doesn't help that even physical abuse gets the same treatment. Especially when it's just dismissed as 'discipline' or a 'loss of control'. But going back to emotional abuse, this is one of the main things that we wanted to so desperately try and portray vs. how My Pride had portrayed it. The very idea that emotional abuse at the hands of your family isn't actually abuse because it's just them loving you and 'wanting what's best for you'.

Which is so ridiculous because overprotectiveness can very, very easily mutate into smothering and parents feeling that their children have zero agency or identity outside of themselves, especially if you're disabled. Parents like this don't deserve humanisation or sympathy. Their actions are possessive and unhealthy and may be a indication they're suffering from a form of abuse themselves.

My Pride could have tackled this with Powerstrike. She lost her mate and son. Her culture is heavily against her and her own sense of agency. However, the script is too busy highlighting how she feels 'weak' because her daughter is disabled and can seemingly do nothing to fulfil this unachievable image she has of her.

It's how you know the script was written by an able-bodied individual, somebody who will never know that this kind of thing makes you feel like utter dirt as somebody who isn't a "perfect" neurotypical, able-bodied individual.

Even if the creator is neurodivergent herself, this was such a huge ball to drop. Powerstrike saying 'whenever I look at you, I only see what you could have been' is very much a fucking Powerstrike problem and she deserves to rot for it. Being viewed under the lens of what you "could" be if you didn't have a physical disability or conditions that cause developmental delays like autism is downright devastating for those who have them and fuck that show for trying to humanise Powerstrike by having her spout such garbage.

There was nothing remotely sympathetic about that speech. It was just Powerstrike whining about having a disabled daughter and the context of the speech is that she was called out for not caring about her children and the creator somehow thinks that her child being disabled.... excuses that?

I apologise for going off on a rant, but Powerstrike's speech fits the bill exactly with what what you're talking about because MP fans have fallen for it hook, line and sinker and refused to see how gross it is because Powerstrike never physically abused Nothing like Quickmane did. Even though it is very obviously emotional abuse and manipulation.

It'd be great if we could just assume this is just superfans defending their favourite show's honour because god forbid something they enjoy is delivering problematic messages like how parents who have an ableist perception of their children deserve sympathy, but we've had people come to us and directly point to the show's writing as a reason for them failing to identify valid forms of abuse and therefore feel they cannot act upon it or seek help for it.

May not be what the creator intended because she was presumably high off her own fumes when she wrote speeches like Powerstrike's, but that's the reality and making excuses for it like MP fans have isn't going to make the issue get any better.

Doing this comic has allowed me to confront the same feelings you have also had to contend with, anon, and I'm very happy we have been able to share something together there. You and others like you also make me feel less alone and less angry about what I've experienced and I hope you never forget that. - RJ