now they have a home with their grandfather and

Gift giving

My aunt’s husband is a total fucking dickhead.

For some background, my mother’s family is Guyanese and mixed with Scottish, German and Amerindian, but mainly look black. My mother married a white Irish man (my dad) and I came out looking super duper pale with blue eyes and blonde hair. My brothers are both much darker because being biracial means getting a grabbag of genes.

My aunt (my mother’s sister) married a Nigerian immigrant who is lazy and racist. He came over for a PhD course (which he only passed because my aunt wrote his thesis and in the thirty years since has refused to work) and his distaste at being married into the same family as a white guy has manifested in a number of ways, from telling others that my dad has shouted racial abuse at him (witnesses confirmed he absolutely did not) to refusing to even speak to me because of my skin colour.

A few years ago he was shouting about something completely false and when I told him he was wrong, he tried to physically attack me for being ‘disrespectful’ and had to be held back by my dad and uncles. He was in his fifties and I was a sixteen year old girl.

I later heard from my grandfather that after he yelled at my aunt’s husband, he (aunt’s husband) said that if he faced any consequences (like being banned from family dinners or told off again for his treatment of me) he would take my cousins, leave my aunt and go back to Nigeria.

It’s been a few years since then. I’m an adult now, and I’ve steered clear of as many holidays as possible. I didn’t want my grandfather to have to choose between protecting me and seeing my cousins again. My grandfather made it clear he was on my side and would’ve physically removed the asshole from his home, but, of course, that would result in probably never seeing my cousins again. I didnt want him to make that choice.

My grandfather died this year. It was a pretty awful illness and I spent most of my time out of work inside of the hospital with him. My dad was there too - his father-in-law was the closest he had to a father. My grandfather taught me many things. Including that you shouldn’t allow people to ruin things for you. Things like family gatherings.

Now the thing about this dude is, on top of being lazy as shit, he’s super entitled. He fully believes that he is head of the family, despite everyone hating him and ignoring him. He believes he is owed deference and respect from all. He told my aunt that since I didn’t show him respect, she and my cousins were no longer to buy my xmas presents. I haven’t received a single one from them in years. So I set my plan into motion.

I don’t get paid a lot, but I saved from October onwards. I filled the tree in my grandfather’s old house with presents, one for every person in my family - bar one.

This morning, Christmas Day, I stood under that tree with my gifts in my arms and I gave every person there a present I had spent hours picking out. I went up to each individual, passing him several times while he looked at the gifts greedily, and handed everyone something they would’ve wanted. I got to drink in the look of guilt on the faces of my cousins and my aunt as I received one solitary present (from my mother’s brother) as they received a bunch from me. It was delicious.

Finally, there was one gift left under the tree - a single envelope. It said 'for all your help looking after grandfather’. I handed it to him. Inside were return Eurostar tickets to Paris for a long weekend. “Oh!” I said. “I’ve made a mistake! That’s my extra present to [Dad]!” And indeed, there was my father’s name on the tickets. He got to see every wonderful gift I got everyone else while he received nothing - nothing from me, nothing from my brothers who hate how he treats me, nothing from my uncles who hate him and only ever gave him things because my grandfather wanted to keep the peace to continue seeing his grandkids.

The cherry on top? I received a special gift from a friend today. He bought two square feet of land for me and an aristocratic title. I am now a Lady and even though it barely means anything, my family has been pretend bowing and scraping to me while ignoring him and his demands for respect and he’s now sulking and refusing to speak to anyone.

Merry fucking Christmas, Tony.

Chickens are wildly individual beings and don’t you dare be fooled for one second into thinking otherwise. When I was a pretty smallish child my parents allowed me, for some unknown reason (they were not responsible adults is probably the reason), to purchase with my own money two bantam chickens from a flea market. I had a little banty rooster named Rocky and a tiny banty hen named Ginger. It was a perfectly lovely arrangement even though I sucked at naming things. I loved those jerks with my whole heart and everyone thought that was adorable.

Now, my grandfather hired a neighborhood man to do a lot of odd jobs. This man was named Stanley and, though I can only think fondly of him, he was personally responsible for a hugely traumatic aspect of my childhood. One day, you see, Stanley arrived with a gift for me. “I hear you like chickens,” he said presenting my family with the most gorgeous animal I had ever seen. A beautiful orangey head fading into iridescent greeny-blue wings, long proud incredibly green tail feathers, red eyes that seemed to glow (soon I would learn this was from the Fires of Hell), and the proudest crown and wattle anyone had ever seen. This rooster was massive too, and not just to someone who is quite bitty, he was a lot of chicken. Now, naturally, I was elated. “Let ‘em out, let ‘em out!” I begged as soon as it seemed remotely appropriate to be a bother. My grandfather, ever indulgent, proceeded to do this. The first act of this new addition to my home, never a safe place but never so dangerous as it would soon become, was to almost murder my grandfather.

You see, what I did not know at the time was that roosters have something called ‘spurs’ which are effectively leg knives. If you are imagining that these cannot possibly be dangerous then I am going to change your imagination. My family, two young children included, gathered around. Soon my pretty new pet would be free to puk and bok about the yard I believed. My grandfather opened the transport cage and everything was, at once, a mass of feathers and blood. Unleashed the chicken lunged instantly for his face and neck. Fortunately he was able to throw up his arms in protection which resulted in a huge gash that must have been bone deep for how it bled. This being of raw malevolence rushed at the assembled crowd causing much screaming and cowardly running. If I am recalling correctly my mother actually scooped up my sister before she fled to the safety of the house. I don’t remember how, or even if, we corralled the devil. But I do know, precisely, my grandfather’s words as he calmly wrapped his bloodied arm in one of the handkerchiefs he was never without, “Mean little bastard, ain’t he?”

The coalesced mass of violence was named. He was called Bully and my entire family has war flashbacks when that profane name is mentioned. My father was Bully’s second victim, his spurs managing to slash through his jeans and cut open his leg nastily. After this event it was not decided that we had to get rid of this monster masquerading as a bird. It was decided, instead, that he was to be de-spurred. For the uninitiated this involves a terrified child holding a ball of raw evil while an adult twists that evil’s most deadly weapons off with a pair of pliers. I am told this process is painless but I regret that it did not inflict that demon with some amount of pain because as soon as I dropped him he hit me full in the chest with an untellable fury and I was crying when I made it to the safety of the house.

Thus began a series of years where outside was a PVP zone. My parents laughed when my sister and I rode bicycles because we were always perused by Bully running full tilt, intent on committing a violence against us. We had a hen house and chicken run built but nothing could fully contain this beast. For years a standard accompaniment to leaving the house was a broom handle. Why? Because there was a likelihood that you were going to be viciously assaulted by the unkindest animal as has ever walked this forsaken earth. Now, whacking a psychopathic rooster with a broom handle does not actually dissuade it from continuing its attack, but it does keep it a distance away from you that you might get to safety. Running was futile and foolish but we resorted to it often. Bully knew the exact time we got home from school. Every day without fail he was in the driveway, waiting. Broom handles became standard equipment in every vehicle. My father would amuse himself by sending his children out to fight the chicken and we would do it because my sister and I have always been desperate for approval. This is one of the rare instances where my mother didn’t even try to stop him. That unholy creature loved sneaking up on her when she was putting clothes on the line and any time a child was battling it was a happy time for her.

I must impress on you, I have no idea why we didn’t get rid of Bully because he terrorized us constantly. Everyone laughed that we were so tormented by a bird. Their laughter ceased the second they set foot on our property and met the hellion in person. Collecting eggs during those years was always met with tears as I trudged to my task and inevitable beating from a rooster. Once Bully got frostbite in his comb and my father carried him lovingly in his arms to get him treatment from the vet. This was a complicated relationship we had with our awful pet. Bully was also, for the record, a serial rapist who would pounce on hens with no warning and not a single one of them ever wanted it. I’ve had other roosters that are flawless gentlemen in this area and have cute courtship dances. Not Bully.

Anyway, one day a man showed up at our house for reasons I don’t recall. My parents were both artists and my dad is constantly into some nonsense or other so it could have been anything really. “Watch out for the-,” one of us began before being cut off by a delighted gasp. This was followed by the elated question, “Is that a fighting rooster?” We confirmed that it absolutely positively definitely was the most fighting anything on this or any other plane. “Oh wow,” the strange man continued with a dreamy smile, “I’ve always wanted one!” Anyway, we gave Bully to him with repeated warnings that this was a terrible mistake he was making. I never saw that man again and to this day I have a sneaking suspicion that Bully was somehow complicit in his undoubtedly bloody death.

Gift giving

My aunt’s husband is a total fucking dickhead.

For some background, my mother’s family is Guyanese and mixed with Scottish, German and Amerindian, but mainly look black. My mother married a white Irish man (my dad) and I came out looking super duper pale with blue eyes and blonde hair. My brothers are both much darker because being biracial means getting a grabbag of genes.

My aunt (my mother’s sister) married a Nigerian immigrant who is lazy and racist. He came over for a PhD course (which he only passed because my aunt wrote his thesis and in the thirty years since has refused to work) and his distaste at being married into the same family as a white guy has manifested in a number of ways, from telling others that my dad has shouted racial abuse at him (witnesses confirmed he absolutely did not) to refusing to even speak to me because of my skin colour.

A few years ago he was shouting about something completely false and when I told him he was wrong, he tried to physically attack me for being ‘disrespectful’ and had to be held back by my dad and uncles. He was in his fifties and I was a sixteen year old girl.

I later heard from my grandfather that after he yelled at my aunt’s husband, he (aunt’s husband) said that if he faced any consequences (like being banned from family dinners or told off again for his treatment of me) he would take my cousins, leave my aunt and go back to Nigeria.

It’s been a few years since then. I’m an adult now, and I’ve steered clear of as many holidays as possible. I didn’t want my grandfather to have to choose between protecting me and seeing my cousins again. My grandfather made it clear he was on my side and would’ve physically removed the asshole from his home, but, of course, that would result in probably never seeing my cousins again. I didnt want him to make that choice.

My grandfather died this year. It was a pretty awful illness and I spent most of my time out of work inside of the hospital with him. My dad was there too - his father-in-law was the closest he had to a father. My grandfather taught me many things. Including that you shouldn’t allow people to ruin things for you. Things like family gatherings.

Now the thing about this dude is, on top of being lazy as shit, he’s super entitled. He fully believes that he is head of the family, despite everyone hating him and ignoring him. He believes he is owed deference and respect from all. He told my aunt that since I didn’t show him respect, she and my cousins were no longer to buy my xmas presents. I haven’t received a single one from them in years. So I set my plan into motion.

I don’t get paid a lot, but I saved from October onwards. I filled the tree in my grandfather’s old house with presents, one for every person in my family - bar one.

This morning, Christmas Day, I stood under that tree with my gifts in my arms and I gave every person there a present I had spent hours picking out. I went up to each individual, passing him several times while he looked at the gifts greedily, and handed everyone something they would’ve wanted. I got to drink in the look of guilt on the faces of my cousins and my aunt as I received one solitary present (from my mother’s brother) as they received a bunch from me. It was delicious.

Finally, there was one gift left under the tree - a single envelope. It said 'for all your help looking after grandfather’. I handed it to him. Inside were return Eurostar tickets to Paris for a long weekend. “Oh!” I said. “I’ve made a mistake! That’s my extra present to [Dad]!” And indeed, there was my father’s name on the tickets. He got to see every wonderful gift I got everyone else while he received nothing - nothing from me, nothing from my brothers who hate how he treats me, nothing from my uncles who hate him and only ever gave him things because my grandfather wanted to keep the peace to continue seeing his grandkids.

The cherry on top? I received a special gift from a friend today. He bought two square feet of land for me and an aristocratic title. I am now a Lady and even though it barely means anything, my family has been pretend bowing and scraping to me while ignoring him and his demands for respect and he’s now sulking and refusing to speak to anyone.

Merry fucking Christmas, Tony.

Prompt: Reader introduces Bill to her family and she’s nervous and stuff

Warning: Nonetheless 

Note: I have another fanfic similar to this called “Home Bill Skarsgård x Reader” but this time it’s the reader introducing Bill to her family. Enjoy! =3!

Originally posted by blllskarsgaard

Originally posted by usedpimpa

You were so stressed out as you drove Bill down to your mother’s house where most of your family was waiting. You had already called her the night before telling her not to freak out like when you told her you were dating a hot Swedish actor that is from a family of well known famous actors.

When you told her that she freaked out like as if you just told her you were pregnant with twins.

Which you weren’t!

That was also another thing you had to remind her, no mentioning children. Apparently your older sister having a baby wasn’t enough for her.

“Babe, calm down, your going to break the steering wheel.” Your boyfriend said placing his hand on your knee.

“I know I’m just…stressing out a little.”

“Why?”

“You know why. My mom is crazy and she’s probably gonna be constantly asking about children and our life and-”

“(Name), it’s alright,” Bill chuckled, “My mother was the same way but she behaved and was nice.”

“Yeah but your mom and family weren’t huge fans of me since I’m not famous.” You sighed heavily.

“Calm down, everything’s going to be okay. Okay?”

You nodded biting your lip and Bill squeezed your knee. You gave him a murderous look and he smirked but pulled his hand away. At least that helped ease your nerves a bit to let it out that you were incredibly scared and nervous af.

You saw your mother’s house and pulled into the driveway biting your lip to the point where you were sure you could taste blood. Bill casually stepped out and you followed him over to the door.

He took your shaking hand and entertained your fingers with his giving you an assuring smile. You knocked on the door in a certain pattern you used to use as a child and sure enough it opened to reveal your mother.

Instead of the wide smile and nearly popping eyeballs you were expecting she had a gentle, timid, sort of motherly like smile that seemed true.

“Oh thank god my baby’s back home.” Your mother cooed pulling you into a desthcrushing hug.

You squeaked in surprise and blushed as she rubbed her cheek against yours and gushed about how she had missed you so much. Bill mean while looked like he was trying really hard not to laugh making you glare at him.

Eventually your mother pulled away from you and noticed your guest in your room, “Uh, mom, this is my boyfriend Bill.

“My, I’ve heard many wonderful thing about you.” Your mother commented holding her hand out.

He accepted it and shook her hand wincing at how tight and stern her handshakes always were which made you smirk a little. Bill pulled back his hand and tucked it into his pocket before any bruises could show.

“Come in, come in.” She called.

You stepped in and took your shoes off at the door knowing how your mom threw a fit about getting dirt in her house. Bill followed and kicked off his elegant dress shoes matching his equally elegant dress suit.

You thought it was a little bit of overkill but hey, you wanted to leave a good impression. You lead him into the living room and sat down on the couch with Bill following your lead.

Your mother set down a plate of cheese, crackers, and pepperoni with grapes. You quickly reached over and took off a grape well Bill looked unsure what to do wether this was a test or not.

He decided to eat anyways and stacked a cracker, a slice of pepperoni, and then the cheese slice before taking a bite.

“So, how’s your life going?” Your mother asked aiming more towards your boyfriend.

The air was tense as Bill slowly stiffened before saying, “Uh…well we aren’t in debt and we both love each other dearly.”

“That’s good.” Your mother chuckled.

It looked like he past the first question.

“So any thoughts of children yet or…”

“Moooom, you already have 3 grandchildren!” You whined.

“I know but…well you go me there. So you both love each other?”

You both nodded.

“Risk your lives for one another?”

Bill nodded but you replied back, “Weeeeeeell….”

He gave you a shocked look and you chuckled and replied, “Nah, I love you too much Bill.”

The man smiled and turned his attention back to your mother. That was how it was for the rest of the day. Just tests from both of you making dinner and answering questions correctly.

It seemed mom loved you both together.

As a probably final test you and Bill slept together in your old room that still had all your possessions inside. He had his arm wrapped around your waist as you slept not making much if any noise really.

Your mother was standing in the doorway watching you both sleep with a smile on her face, “Yep. They’re perfect for each other…

…Now I just convince them to have kids.”

Epilogue: Sorry if it seems rushed I went to the mall with my grandfather and when we came back home i was once again blind sided when he said that his friends were going to come over to see me so I wasn’t able to be alone to type for hours and I was so exhausted. Thanx for reading now I’m going to bed ;3!

Werewolf Boyfriend (Jack) 3

Another commissionf or @ladyccr​ and a continuation for her werewolf boy, Jack as well as for Big Billy and the citizens of Hearthway Hollow. Part one and part two are up and ready for reading.


You had always been afraid that your father was going to be something of a hindrance in your love life. He was a prominent member of the community, not to mention one of Prince Adam’s most trusted council. You were also your father’s only child, which always presented some issues for you even as a child.

While your father was a beloved member of the town, he had a reputation. He was mean and harsh. He had been a feral werewolf when he had first wandered into the town. He had come because of your mother. Your mother was a young doctor at the time and was often driving between her school and the town for training. Your father caught whiff of her, and like most werewolves, it was love. Now, being a feral werewolf he didn’t know about the courtship rituals your town held. He came into town, intent on taking your mother into the woods and fucking her until the sun came up. Instead, Prince Adam’s grandmother, Eva, was waiting on him. She saw potential in your father. He’s always been a big, hulking presence. In fact, your mother described him as terrifying when she first met him. But because he had chosen her as his mate, she agreed to help Eva rehabilitate him.

Keep reading

the-true-space-fandom  asked:

could you write a story about a human jacked up on adrenaline against this humongous beast of an alien? thanks!

*rubs hands together*

Finally, I get to write a crazy man killing a giant alien.

Hells yeah, let’s do this.


The large trees were blocking out almost every part of the sun. Xylion could barely see without the headlight he had on, and the rest of the crewmembers were muttering about the cold or the darkness. He glanced behind him to see Human Isaac. He was the only one to come with them. Human Mason had to help stitch up Human Fredrick after the extensive wounds he had received a few days ago, and Human Jenny kept talking about how humid it’d be.

Human Isaac was small, so he wasn’t exactly great for combat situations. Captain Zellnor would’ve preferred Human Mason to go, but Xylion told him about his PTSD thing, and the Captain understood. He didn’t want him to have any problems should something happen.

Xylion watched as Human Isaac puffed his cheeks out and poked them out repeatedly. He sighed. He was a weird one, definitely.

As the group trekked on, Datallion, one of the other crewmembers on the expedition, came up to Xylion. “Hey, Xy?”

“Yes, Llion?”

The two exchanged a pleased expression with each other. Datallion was one of the doctors aboard the ship, and Xylion and him had gone to the academy together. They were roommates, actually.

“Tell me about the humans.”

“Which one?”

Datallion pointed at Human Isaac, who was now making some weird vibration from his mouth as he bobbed his head back and forth. Xylion sighed. “That’s Human Isaac. He’s a weird fellow. The others always seem really annoyed by him, but for some reason they tolerate him. He always makes jokes, and he’s a mechanic. Human Isaac has never really been one to hold back honesty, so that’s a good trait. Though, when he told Human Jenny her hair looked like a rat’s ass, which in all truth, it did, she ended up hitting him and telling him his mother looked like a rat’s ass, so who knows.”

His friend laughed. “Humans are weird, no?”

“That’s certainly one way to put it.”

Datallion rubbed his feathered head. “Yes, definitely.”

The group eventually stopped in a clearing they found. Xylion sat down and opened his pack to group some food to munch on. He glanced up and saw Human Isaac not eating anything, instead he was laying on the ground, looking up at the sky. Xylion frowned. “What’s wrong, Human Isaac? Are you not hungry?”

“Nah, I can’t eat. Somethings bugging me.”

“‘Bugging you’?”

“I have this sick feeling in my stomach. My guts telling me something is about to happen. I can’t very well eat when my stomach is riding a rollercoaster in me now, right?”

“I guess so…”

Human Isaac sighed as he sat up. “It’s intuition, alright? No messing around right now, somethings off. Do we know anything about this planet?”

Datallion sighed as he pulled out a few papers. “It’s mostly covered in large vegetation, a few bodies of water, couple hills, mostly flat land, and uninhabited by intelligent life forms.”

“See? Nothing to worry about.”

“What about unintelligent creatures?”

Datallion shook his head. “None have been found.”

Xylion gave Human Isaac the customary grin. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

Human Isaac rolled his eyes before lying back down. Xylion sighed as he looked up at the dark sky above them. It was time to sleep.

The night was the perfect cover. They never saw it coming.

Xylion was almost asleep when he heard the low growl coming somewhere from besides them. His eyes slowly opened, and he looked around stealthily, trying to see if he could locate the culprit, but nothing. He assumed perhaps someone was sleeping. It could happen.

His eyes closed again.

However, when he heard the sound of screaming, he sat up.

Dattalion was dangling in the air, his yellow blood dripping down his wounded leg as a huge, furred creature held him up. Dattalion was struggling against its claws, trying to break away from it.

“Dattalion!” Someone shouted.

Xylion reached for his backpack, but then he remembered. They had left their guns behind because of the report. If there was no intelligent life, then why bring a gun to shoot it?

He looked up to his friend, knowing there was no way to help him. He watched the beast throw him to the ground. The beast howled in pain and whipped around suddenly, clawing at something behind it.

Xylion watched as Human Isaac ducked the claws, his dark eyes rounded and his jaw clenched. Blood was dripping from a cut on his forehead, and in his hand he held a large branch. It was larger than him by at least twice his size, and had a large pointed end. He saw some bright blood on the end of it, and a wound on the creatures butt.

“Human Isaac! We have to run!”

Human Isaac reeled the large branch behind him, and hurled it at the creatures face. The creature cried out as it nicked the side of it’s face. Human Isaac rolled out of the way of another one of its attacks.

Xylion was now even more concerned for Human Isaac. “Come one! We have to go!”

“Nah! I have to get this damn things head and hang it above my fireplace back home!” He shouted. “I’m gonna cut it off and scoop out off it’s organs and then stuff and mount it. When people ask how I got it, I can proudly proclaim that I took its life for hurting someone on my crew, and I can tell my damned grandchildren how great their fucking grandfather was for killing this accursed thing!”

Everyone stared in disbelief at what he had just said. Xylion watched as Human Isaac looked around madly. Then, his eyes lit up.

He jumped backwards. “Hey! Yo ugly ass creature! Come get me, motherfucker!”

The creature growled at him and ran at him. Human Isaac ran into the forest, and the two vanished.

It felt like hours. There was no sound, no cries of death. The world was calm once again.

However, the tranquil silence was broken when Human Isaac ran out of the forest, a sharp rock in his hands. Not only that, but he had large scratches covering his body. His dark blood was coating him, but he seemed to not feel a thing! Xylion could see some white in one of the wounds, and his left arm was laying limply by his side. He clearly was not having a fun time, yet he was still fighting! The creature ran back out, blood dripping down from multiple wounds. It was then that Xylion saw the glowing blood on the end of the rock.

Human Isaac stopped and pulled his arm back. He examined the creature as it started to run towards him. He then pulled his arm back even further before hurling the sharp edged stone at the creature.

Xylion watched it pierce the creatures eye, and it fell backwards, yelping in pain. Human Isaac then bent down and picked up the branch. He slowly walked towards the creature, his right leg bending in an odd way. He stood next to the creature, and plunged the branch deep into its neck.

The creature cried out, and spasmed for a few moments before laying still. Human Isaac still gripped onto the branch, before leaning against it. He slowly began to slide down it until he laid next to the beast, and his eyes closed.

Xylion hurried over to him before gently picking him up. He watched as one of the crew members called for a ship to be delivered to them as soon as possible.

As Xylion held Human Isaac in his arms, he realized just how strong every human was, no matter their size.

They were tough, fearless, and would fight for their friends, no matter how much they knew about them.

Humans were odd, but they were strong as well.

They were a rare being, one that Xylion didn’t think he could ever live up to be.


Yo I suck at writing action scenes.

Like, I am actually bad. I can’t write what I imagine onto the paper without sounding like a sick freak, or I just can’t even imagine the right words.

Oh well, at least I did my best.

What’d you think?

I hope you liked it, the-true-space-australian! I did enjoy writing this.

Anyways, I have one more to write before I’m done with today’s asks! Feel free to ask me anything! I’ll do my best to write it!

Gift giving.

(warning: long story)

My aunt’s husband is a total f*cking d*ckhead.

For some background, my mother’s family is Guyanese and mixed with Scottish, German and Amerindian, but mainly look black. My mother married a white Irish man (my dad) and I came out looking super duper pale with blue eyes and blonde hair. My brothers are both much darker because being biracial means getting a grabbag of genes.

My aunt (my mother’s sister) married a Nigerian immigrant who is lazy and racist. He came over for a PhD course (which he only passed because my aunt wrote his thesis and in the thirty years since has refused to work) and his distaste at being married into the same family as a white guy has manifested in a number of ways, from telling others that my dad has shouted racial abuse at him (witnesses confirmed he absolutely did not) to refusing to even speak to me because of my skin colour.

A few years ago he was shouting about something completely false and when I told him he was wrong, he tried to physically attack me for being ‘disrespectful’ and had to be held back by my dad and uncles. He was in his fifties and I was a sixteen year old girl.

Keep reading

The Adventure Continues // Na Jaemin

Pt 1

-

summary: prince!jaemin part two where jaemin and you meet again, only this time he is engaged to be married.

words: 6063

category: angst + fluff, prince au

author note: it was nice to return to this au (also it somehow turned into my second longest scenario ever so maybe i got a bit carried away but how can you not it’s jaEMIN). as usual i miss jaemin and wish he would just show himself to us bc i miss my bestest pal. i hope he’s safe and healthy and being loved by his family.

- destinee

honestly if sm doesn’t update us on this pure snickerdoodle i will swim over to south korea mYSELF WATCH ME

-

Jaemin found himself sitting on the stone edge of the right side turret of his family’s castle. With his feet weighted by heavy boots, he found that he couldn’t hardly swing his feet back and forth like he pleased.

Instead, he let them hang limp, perhaps to mirror the feeling of despair that had settled in his stomach. In just two years, schedules and duties had distracted him from any kind of adventure he had dreamed of, bit more than anything, it kept him from you.

Jaemin thought about you often, and he wondered how you were doing. Your grandfather visited the kingdom every once in awhile for routine smithing and repairs. The young prince had followed him around for the first few months, asking questions about how you were doing.

Apparently, your grandmother’s condition had only worsened into something much more serious than a cold. Your grandfather informed Jaemin that you had been giving all your time to take care of her, and you wouldn’t be visiting the castle any time soon.

Months went by, and you still hadn’t visited. Then your grandmother passed away, and Jaemin felt his heart breaking along with yours. He wished to visit you and comfort you. He wanted more than anything to gather you in his arms and assure you that he was there. He wouldn’t leave your side.

They would just be empty promises, he often had to remind himself. The truth was that he was a prince unable to ignore his duties just to comfort someone. His job was much bigger, unfortunately, and he had to tend to the needs of the kingdom before he could tend to the needs of you.

Although he wanted more than anything to just throw down his metaphorical crown and run back to you.

Worries haunted him day to day. What if you had forgotten about him? What if you thought he forgot about you? What if you thought he was deliberately ignoring you?

Unfortunately, his worries hadn’t lessened in the past two years. If anything, they only came back stronger. Especially since his parents had just announced that he would be betrothed to one of the ladies who lived in the kingdom.

All of this would explain the disheartened spirit of the prince as he sat on the turret.

He held a sword in his lap, one with badly whittled initials in the hilt. His nineteen-year-old hands were more worn than his seventeen-year-old hands. The pad of his thumb was rough against the smooth hilt of the sword.

Jaemin sighed and looked out at the view before him. Somewhere out there was your small cottage, playing as a shelter for you and your grandfather.

You didn’t know what had happened earlier that day. Jaemin wasn’t sure you would, until it was officially announced by the local newsboys. He wanted to tell you himself though, and ask what he was supposed to do about it. He wanted to ask how he could marry anyone when you were the only thing on his mind.

A guard appeared on the turret. “Your Highness? Her Majesty has requested that you come spend lunch with Lady Havergaud immediately.”

Jaemin turned slightly to assure the guard, “Coming!”

-

You pulled the wool blanket closer under your grandfather’s chin. “Don’t worry, alright? You’ll be fine.”

He coughed, and a jolt of fear ran up your spine as you thought of him perhaps having what your grandmother died of. He had been depressed since she died two years ago, and the stress weighed heavy on his shoulders as he still did smithing work for the kingdom.

“I have an order,” he said. “I have to deliver the swords to the castle.”

“I’ve got it,” you assured him. “You taught me everything, remember? This way I can take over while you’re recovering.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I’ve got it. Trust me.” You leaned down to kiss his cheek, “Now go to sleep, and when you wake up I will be back with a warm pot of soup waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Y/n.”

The past two years hadn’t really been kind to you either. You had taken over your grandmother’s work, along with daily deliveries and lessons from the forge. Your grandfather thought it was important for you to learn the trade that brought income into the house, so that if anything were to happen to him you could step up.

Unfortunately, that time came sooner than later, so you were stuck doing day-to-day work with little rest. Your smooth hands were replaced by the rough and calloused palms of a blacksmith. Your hair was cut short, to keep from getting caught in the metal and fire of the forge you worked in. Your skin was often covered in a layer of dirt by the end of the day.

Entering the forge, you picked up the many swords given to you by the castle guards only yesterday. It was important to work on the swords quickly, so you and your grandfather often lost sleep over the knight’s swords you had committed to cleaning.

You sheathed each of the swords and placed them in a large carpetbag. Then, swinging the bag over your shoulder, you began the long walk to the castle.

-

Upon your arrival, your heart beat rose at the thought of who lived behind the walls. You hadn’t forgotten about the prince, although you were sure he had forgotten about you.

Because of everything that had happened, you really hadn’t had any time to visit him, even though he invited you to. You were busy with more important things than following the prince around all day. No matter how fun the latter sounded, you owed it to your grandfather to help him in any way you could.

Once you showed him the bag of swords, the castle guard opened the gate and allowed you inside. You eyes widened in bewilderment as you gazed down the well-lit stone walls. The entire castle seemed bright and cheerful, despite being made of dark gray stone. It reminded you of Jaemin’s positive vibes, and for a fleeting moment you could hear his cheerful voice in your head, convincing the castle decorators to make the interior of the castle more bright and welcoming.

“Y/n?” You turned at the familiar voice, and the sword hilts against your back all clanged together at the sudden movement.

“Mark!” you said happily. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since you moved to the castle!”

“I’m great!” he answered. “I’ll be completing my knight’s training next year. How’s your grandfather?”

“Not good,” you sighed. “He’s gotten much weaker from all the stress of Grandmother being gone. He won’t admit it, but he needs to rest for awhile.”

“He hasn’t rested since the funeral, had he?” Mark guessed.

“Works distracts him,” you supposed. “It also adds more stress to him, which is why I want him to rest. I can work the forge while he’s gone.”

“Speaking of.” Mark grinned and reached up and pulled something out of your hair. “You’ve got some ashes in your hair.”

You shrugged. “That happens when you work in a forge. Now, do you know where I deliver these swords?”

“Oh, I’ll take them. I’m on my way to the practice ground right now.”

You transferred the carpet bag onto his back, the whole time looking around.

“How in the world did you carry these?” Mark groaned under the weight of the bag.

“Practice,” you mumbled, peering down the hall.

“He’s at lunch with his fiancée,” Mark answered your unasked question.

“Fiancée?” Your voice caught on the word, as if it pained you to actually say it.

Mark looked sheepish. “I forgot they hadn’t announced it yet. Jaemin’s betrothed to a Lady.”

“Oh. Well, wish him well for me.” You forced your lips to turn up in a smile, “I’ll be going now.”

-

You subconsciously played with the ring on your finger as you walked into your home. “Grandfather? I’m home!”

“How’d it go?” he yelled from his room, coughing the final word.

You entered his room. “How long have you been awake?”

“Only a few minutes,” he assured you. “Tell me, did you see Jaemin?”

You hated to disappoint him, seeing the twinkle in his watery eyes. “No. I only saw Mark. Jaemin’s engaged, you know.”

“Really?” Your grandfather tutted. “I never really understood rich people and their arranged marriages. How bad is it for the prince to marry the one he loves?”

“It’s been two years, Grandfather. We’ve both grown since then and I’m not quite sure he loves me in the same innocent, childish way he used to.”

“First love is always innocent and childish. True love is the most innocent love there is, Y/n. He asks about you all the time, so there must be some feelings still there.”

You smiled bitterly. “Thanks, Grandfather. I appreciate you trying to cheer me up. Now, let me make you some soup and then I’ll go back out to the market.”

“As you wish,” he replied. “Choose to stubbornly ignore my words.”

You laughed, “I can’t get my hopes up, Grandfather. I’ve got so much more to do now than pine after a prince.”

-

Jaemin stiffly bowed to the Lady Havergaud. Her first name was Gwen, but Jaemin wasn’t sure he was ready to call her by that just yet.

She was dressed like every other nobleman he knew. Bright and colorful clothes, powdered makeup, and hair done up extravagantly.

“Your Highness,” she spoke with a knowing lilt in her voice. “How marvelous to meet your acquaintance.”

“It’s just Jaemin,” the prince said awkwardly. He shifted from foot to foot as he waited for someone to rescue him from this awkward encounter. When no one intervened, he supposed he would have to save himself. “Well, let’s have some lunch. Mother is probably waiting for us.”

She accepted his arm, using her gloves hand to keep a firm grip on him. “You’re not very muscular,” she spoke honestly. “I thought princes went through training to become stronger.”

“I’m strong,” Jaemin retorted.

“Of course, Darling,” the way she said it was patronizing and condescending. “When we marry, I’ll put you under a special diet and training program that will surely make your more buff and fit.”

Jaemin bit his lip to keep from biting back a sharp remark. Why did he have to be buff to run a kingdom? And, he would have her know, he was already fit.

“Be sure to eat more, okay?” She said. “I want my husband to be the envy of all the land.”

Jaemin couldn’t believe his ears. “Does my royal title mean nothing to the ladies?”

Gwen laughed loudly and slapped his arm. “You’re cute. When we’re married, let me do the talking at social events, okay?”

Jaemin gritted his teeth and only nodded. But deep inside there was a pang of regret and despair, knowing this would be his future.

Couldn’t he just run away? Couldn’t he just stop being prince for one moment and go on another adventure?

Couldn’t he go see you one last time?

Instead, he was stuck with someone who obviously only liked him for his title, and was already planning on changing him. Wonderful.

-

“Grandfather, you need to drink some water. If you get dehydrated, the sickness could get worse.” You struggled to get him to drink anything.

For the past few days, his fever had worsened. Now he was both throwing up and convulsing. Fear struck your heart, since he was doing everything your grandmother had done before she passed away.

If you could afford the cure for your grandfather, you could avoid the heartache. He could get better and you wouldn’t have to go through the pain of losing someone again.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t afford it. The village healer made that clear during his visit. “If you go to the castle healer, you can request the cure. However, I can guarantee it’s going to be worth an arm and a leg. I’m sorry.”

“Do they take exchanges?” you asked. “My grandmother has a watch I could trade for it.”

He nodded slowly, “It might work. I would definitely try it.”

“I will. Thank you.”

-

Jaemin picked up a vial of medicine and sniffed it. “What’s this?”

Jeno, the castle healer and Jaemin’s long-time friend, answered from the other side of the shop. “It’s for indigestion.”

“Hm,” Jaemin commented. He waited for his friend to turn away before he tipped the vial back and drank it’s contents.

“Jaemin, I swear—” Jeno looked at the empty vial and then the guilty grin adorning the prince’s face. “You can’t try a new medicine every time you come in here. You’re lowering my stocks.”

“It’s all natural remedies,” Jaemin said. “I’m not hurting anything. Besides, I might have indigestion.”

Jeno stopped at stared at his friend, “Jaemin, what is indigestion?”

The prince averted his eyes to the side. “Okay, well I don’t have to know what it is to suffer from it, do I?”

The bell hanging above the front door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. Jeno excused himself and went behind the curtain, where the front of office was located. “Hello! How can I help you?”

Jaemin stayed in the back, doing what he was supposed to be doing in the first place: avoiding his fiancée and helping Jeno label his remedies.

“Hi. My village’s healer said you had a cure for me? He said he talked to you about it.”

Jaemin stopped his actions, feeling a nostalgic memory hit him instantly.

Y/n. That was your voice. It had to be.

Jaemin bit his lip as he tried to concentrate on the unnamed label in front of him. Still, he couldn’t seem to think of anything, save you and what you were doing at the castle healer’s.

Were you hurt? Was your grandfather hurt? Jaemin wasn’t sure he could face either possibility.

Stealthily, he crept towards the curtain and peaked it open ever so slightly, so that he could catch a glimpse of you.

He felt his heartbeat quicken and his thoughts go to mush as he saw you. It had been so long, and yet he hadn’t forgotten your youthful smile. It was the same even now, yet Jaemin could see a smudge of worry behind your upturned lips.

Your skin was darker, perhaps from the sun. Your hair was much shorter, and Jaemin thought that the way your messy strands ended at you shoulder looked cool and attractive. You seemed older, more mature than before, but as was he.

Jaemin felt like bursting through the curtain to give you the biggest hug. Unfortunately, he still lacked courage, and that kept him rooted in his place.

“Ah, you’re Y/n,” Jeno’s voice returned. “I’ve kept the cure safe in my pocket all day. Have you got your money?”

“Actually,” your voice shook, “can I trade something for it? I have a watch…”

Jeno accepted the watch and turned it over, this way and that.

Jaemin studied your anxious face, and he wished Jeno would just let you take the remedy free of charge.

“I can’t accept this,” Jeno said. “It isn’t real gold, so it’s worth isn’t much.”

“Oh.” You looked down, disheartened. Then, your expression grew hopeful.

Jaemin followed your gaze to your hands, where he saw on your third finger a ruby ring. It was the same promise ring he had given you just two years prior. An oath made so that the two of you would never forget each other. Jaemin’s heart lifted. Did you still think about him, too?

“I have this ring,” you said, struggling to pull it off of your finger. “It’s a real ruby.”

Jeno took the ring from your hold and nodded. “That’s perfect. Are you sure you want to give it up?”

“I’m sure,” you answered quietly. “It’s not very important.”

If a heart was made of glass, Jaemin’s would be in pieces right now. Servants would be scrambling to sweep up the shards as they fell onto the cold, hard floor.

Wasn’t important? Jaemin understood completely why you had to sell the ring, but why did you have to say it wasn’t important?

Did that mean he wasn’t important? Did you not remember him? Or worse, you did remember, you just simply didn’t care.

Jaemin retreated from the curtain and went back to his labels. Now his work was quicker, albeit quiet and solemn.

When Jeno returned, he looked at Jaemin carefully, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Is indigestion a broken heart?” Jaemin asked his healer friend. “Because I think I have it.”

Jeno stood still for a moment. “Actually, it’s gas, but I suppose a broken heart probably feels the same.”

-

Your finger felt empty. Throughout the next month, you were constantly aware of the ring’s absence.

Still, it was worth it, since your grandfather was returning to health rather quickly. By now, he could even visit the forge for a few hours each day.

The wedding was approaching quickly, and there were only three weeks to prepare. The queen had ordered that special rings be forged for the couple. According to Mark, Jaemin had spent weeks trying to convince his mom to let your grandfather forge his rings. Apparently he was still Jaemin’s number one influencer.

Your grandfather spend as many hours as he could, molding and forging rings only to realize he wished for a different design and start all over.

“It doesn’t feel right,” he would always say to you. “Of all the things Jaemin has told me, I have no idea why he would go through with this marriage.”

You shrugged in the middle of shoveling more coals into the fire. “Perhaps he likes her.”

“Yeah, right,” your grandfather snorted. “Remember last week, when Jaemin invited me for tea?”

You bit your lip. Jaemin had somehow found out about your grandfather’s recovery, so to celebrate he asked him to come for tea with his fiancée. Your grandfather was never allowed in the castle, however, because Jaemin’s fiancée wouldn’t let him come in. She said he was too dirty, with his fingertips blackened and his shirt carrying the sweat of a hardworking old man.

You heard from Mark that when Jaemin found out, he was furious, and even tried to visit the forge and apologize. You also heard that he was stopped, once again, by his controlling fiancée.

Still, these accounts were coming from two people who wanted you and Jaemin together. For all you knew, they could be lying, and she could be the nicest person you’ve never had the chance of meeting.

Until today.

Your grandfather had just gone back to the house to clean up and sleep for the night, but you stayed up, busy carving flower designs into some recently discarded rings.

“Hello!” someone shouted.

“We’re closed!” you replied, not looking up from your work. “Please come back tomorrow morning!”

You turned to see a woman coming in anyway, a familiar object in her hand. “Actually,” she spoke with a sort of haughtiness about her. “I’m the future princess so I think I can come in.”

“No,” you replied respectfully. “I have to get to sleep soon. Please come back in the morning, Your-Future-Highness.”

You bowed slightly, signaling her to leave the forge. Instead of respectfully leaving, she came closer. “My husband’s sword needs to be fixed. He said this part was getting old and he wants a new handle.”

“Hilt,” you corrected, feeling peeved at the fact that she called Jaemin her husband. They weren’t married yet.

“Whatever. Just have it polished and ready by our wedding day. I don’t want to see those ugly marks on it, alright?” With this, she dropped a sack of gold onto the stool behind you.

“Okay,” you agreed, not really connecting the pieces quite yet.

Then, as soon as she left and you glimpsed down at the sword, it became clear. It was Jaemin’s sword that he had made when he lived here. The hilt was the same, carved with his initials and yours. More things had been carved through the past years, like a small rose in the corner, and something similar to a heart.

Your memory stirred as you looked at the sword. Your heart was both elated and discouraged.

Did Jaemin really wish to erase this part of his life?

You set the sword aside, not having the strength to do it that night.

-

“Hey, where were you last night?” Jaemin asked the next morning on his way to the practice field. He had some free time that he wanted to spend with Mark, who had been teaching him the latest knight techniques.

His fiancée usually visited him every night to complain about something or other, and although Jaemin couldn’t say he missed it, it did make him curious as to why she hadn’t visited him the night before.

“I took your sword to that forge you always talk about and asked the person there to fix the handle.”

“Hilt,” he corrected.

Gwen rolled her eyes, “They said that same thing and it’s quite annoying. I swear I’m going to get wrinkles from all the stress you cause me. Anyway, I thought you would appreciate having those horrid marks removed from the handle. It would make it prettier on our wedding day.”

“WHAT?” Jaemin shouted, “You asked her to remove them?! Those marks are my memories! They’re the best memories I have! Why would you do something like that without asking me?”

Gwen shrugged, “I didn’t think it matter. Now I see it does. Sorry.”

Her apology didn’t sound the least bit sincere, and it took every fiber of Jaemin’s being to keep from saying something he shouldn’t have. Instead, he used his anger to fuel him as he ran down to your village in the hopes of getting his sword back, completely intact.

-

You bit your thumb nail and stared at the sword as if it were going to move. How could you restructure a hilt when the past one had so many memories? Why would you want to?

Your grandfather was still in bed, since it was the early crack of dawn. The only reason you were up was because you couldn’t sleep, and the past night was filled with tossing and turning and thinking about the prince.

You needed to stop. It had been two years. He hadn’t come back. You hadn’t gone to visit. It was time to forget Jaemin once and for all.

You picked up the sword, ready to completely redo the hilt, until a loud banging on the door caught your attention.

“Wait!” the outside voice called, “Let me in!”

You hurried to open the door, wondering who could be so distraught at such an early hour. Your breath caught in your throat as you beheld the prince, in the flesh, standing in front of you.

Jaemin was flustered, leaning with his palms against his knees as he inhaled long intakes of breath. “My sword,” he wheezed. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Jaemin…” the sword dropped to the ground as you stared at him. He was taller, yet just as you remembered him before with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

When he finally caught his breath and straightened up, you engulfed him in a tight hug.

“Woah!” he laughed before wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the ground momentarily. “I thought I wasn’t important.”

Although his voice was teasing, his eyes held a certain fear in them that you couldn’t place. You let go of his neck, allowing your hands to slid towards his chest as you looked into his eyes. “Who told you that?”

“You did!” he said, his grip on your waist slacking only slightly. “When you gave the ring to Jeno.”

You slapped the prince’s chest, “Of course it was unimportant at the time! I needed medicine. I never said you weren’t important, though. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve been a horrible friend,” Jaemin replied quickly, “I haven’t visisted you in two years. Even when your grandmother died, I did nothing. I could’ve visited you or sent some money or anything but I didn’t.”

You gave him a soft smile. Everything felt better suddenly, and you wondered how you and Jaemin could return to easy conversation after having not seen each other for two years. It felt as if it had only been a few days, and the wait was worth it. “I know you’ve been busy,” you comforted him. “You’ve got a lot of stuff to do at the castle.”

Jaemin sighed and pulled you close to him again, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “What do I do?” he mumbled, tickling your sensitive skin. “I don’t want to marry her.”

“Why not?” you asked sardonically. “She’s an absolute peach.”

Jaemin laughed against your neck, and you felt goosebumps hearing your favorite sound for the first time since he left. “Isn’t she?”

“Come in,” you said, letting go of him and leading him away from the forge. “Grandfather will be awake soon and I know he’d want to see you.”

The two of you walked towards the cottage, shoulders bumping occasionally.

“We should go on another adventure while I’m here,” Jaemin said. “Maybe we could go back to the cave and I can see those fish again?”

He hadn’t changed at all, and you felt comforted by that fact. For there you were, more quiet and subdued after all that had happened. After you had to take the title as head of the house. You wondered if that bothered Jaemin: him coming back to a different you.

“I’ll take you to the cave after breakfast,” you assured him, smiling when he pumped his fist victoriously.

Inside of the cottage, Jaemin entered the kitchen before you could close the door behind you.

“It’s the same!” he cheered. “Nothing has changed!”

You leaned against the doorway of the kitchen and chuckled at his childlike excitement. “Grandfather thought changing it would be an insult to Grandmother’s memory.”

Jaemin suddenly frowned. “I should’ve visited her.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted you to,” you spoke honestly. “She didn’t want the prince to see her in such a state. She wanted you to see her when she was still beautiful.”

Jaemin smiled bitterly, “She was always beautiful.”

You walked forward and hugged him from the back, pressing your forehead in between his shoulder blades. “Don’t think about it too much, Jaemin.”

“Alright,” he whispered, placing his hands over yours.

“Now let’s make breakfast before Grandfather wakes up,” you said, hoping to lighten the mood.

-

“My babies! I’ve come home!” Jaemin said, dropping his bag and dramatically running over to the dark lake.

You dropped your bag as well. The two of you decided it would be fun to go camping inside of the cave, mostly because Jaemin had a scary story he insisted could only be told during the witching hour. Apparently, no one in the castle had wanted to hear it, so you were his last hope.

Jaemin dipped his hand into the water, giggling to himself as the fish swam by and tickled his skin.

You found yourself staring at him, and your mind felt like a puddle of goo as you thought about how great he was. How much you wished he wasn’t getting married, so that to two of you could have adventures like this forever.

He made you feel young again: youthful and free to do nothing but play around with the hidden wonders of the world. You were quite sure you loved the boy.

Jaemin looked up at you, and your heart stopped for a moment as you wondered if you had spoke your thoughts aloud. “Y/n, come see them!”

Sighing in relief that your secret hadn’t been found out, you happily went to sit beside Jaemin and watch his precious fish swim around.

“I really like them,” Jaemin spoke into the silence of the cave. “Watching them swim around makes me feel like I did two years ago, when everything was okay.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

Jaemin smiled at you, “We sound like old adults.”

“I know,” you replied, “It’s tragic.”

Jaemin elbowed you lightly, “You’re tragic. I’m awesome.”

“Shut up.”

Jaemin leaned forward and placed his hand in the water again, and you caught the long white scare lining his palm. “It scarred.”

“What? Oh, yeah.” Jaemin pulled out his hand and held it towards you, palm facing upwards. “I was a bit careless back then, wasn’t I?”

“Like you aren’t now,” you countered. You traced the scar carefully with your finger.

Jaemin suddenly grabbed your hands, “They’re rougher than they used to be.”

You squirmed at his words, “Sorry they aren’t dainty enough for you.”

“No!” Jaemin said suddenly. “I was just observing. There’s nothing wrong with rough hands. It means you’ve worked hard.” Then he pulled your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Y/n?”

“W-What?” you stuttered, feeling warm under his gaze.

“Can we hold hands like we used to?”

“I don’t think we ever held hands, Jaemin,” you replied quickly. In fact, you knew it. You and Jaemin hadn’t done anything of that sort when he came to live with you. Except maybe all those times he clung to you when he was bored. That didn’t count though, did it?

“Yeah, we did,” he argued. “When you helped me feed the rabbit.”

“That’s hardly hand holding.” You laughed at him. “You were afraid and I helped you feed the rabbit. We weren’t holding hands.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes dramatically, “Can I just hold your hand? Whether we did it in the past or not?”

“What about your fiancée?” you asked nervously.

Jaemin linked your fingers with his own and smiled at the finished product. “I don’t want to get married to her, so I won’t.”

“How are you gonna get out of it?”

“I have no idea.”

-

Jaemin looked at you with the scariest glare he could muster as he held a lit torch under his chin. In reality, he looked like a constipated dragon.

You tried to contain your giggles as Jaemin continued his story, “So she was never seen again and no one remembered her. The only one who did was that lone fisherman, who could still hear her cries throughout the dock.”

You slapped your hand over your mouth, yet you couldn’t stop the laughter from spilling out of your mouth. “That wasn’t scary at all!”

Jaemin pouted from above the flame, “Really? I worked hard on that one.”

“How hard did you work on it?” you giggled, falling onto your back as you couldn’t stop laughing.

Jaemin frowned and crawled over to you, peering down at your face. “I spent a whole three weeks coming up with that story.”

You smiled up at Jaemin from your spot on the floor, “You’re a dork.”

Jaemin returned your smile and plopped down, rolling over to lay beside you on the ground. “You love me.”

You stayed quiet. Then, perhaps because it was dark and you couldn’t see his face in case he rejected you, you answered, “Yeah. I do.”

Hesitantly, you turned your head to the side to see Jaemin already looking at you in the low light. His smile had grown, and he was quiet as he stared at you. “Really?”

“I mean of course,” you shrugged. “It’s not like we don’t love each other, right?”

Jaemin’s smile fell and he looked up at the cave ceiling. “If…” He exhaled softly and closed his eyes before continuing, “If I can’t get this engagement to end, please don’t think I don’t love you back. Please don’t think you haven’t been the first thing on my mind since I left. Please know that I love you so much and I would love nothing more than to go on a different adventure with you every day, even if that adventure was just delivering swords for your grandfather. If I can’t get this to end, please don’t think my feelings for you aren’t real.”

“I won’t. I promise,” you whispered, reaching for Jaemin’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

-

It was the night before the wedding. You knew, because the entire village was covered in flowers and festive wreaths for the prince. Funnily enough, none of them mentioned the future princess.

You felt numb the whole night, pondering what it would feel like when the newsboys would run down the road and announce that the prince was officially married. Your heart felt heavy as you continued with your chores.

Your grandfather left to go to the wedding, having to deliver the rings and wishing to visit Jaemin beforehand. He pushed you to come along with him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go. There was no way you could see him again, knowing he would be married the next day. There was no way you could watch Jaemin vow to love someone else for the rest of his life. There was no way you could watch the mischievous light in his eyes fade to misery at the distant future. There was no way you could watch him kiss someone else.

Instead, you stayed home and continued your work before washing up and heading to bed.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t sleep, so you wrapped a large blanket around your shoulders and climbed up to the roof.

It was silent, as the majority of your village had turned in for the night. Only the distant sounds of neighbors still up, chatting in low voices, could be heard.

You could see the castle from your perch, and you wondered if Jaemin was there now, sleeping the night away before his wedding. The night before his entire life would change, and yours with it.

You couldn’t hold it against him. It was his duty to get married to someone before he took over as a king. Still, it pulled on your heartstrings that he was marrying someone he didn’t love, and someone who didn’t love him in return. Sure, you were going to be lonely with out him, but he was going to live the rest of his life with someone he didn’t love. That had to be the worst fate of all.

You shivered at the cold wind and pulled your blanket closer to your body.

“I found you again!”

You jumped at the voice and turned around to see Jaemin climbing up to the roof, a cheeky grin on his face. “What are you doing?” you hissed. “Your wedding is tomorrow.”

Jaemin shook his head, “Only if she says yes.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, confused, until Jaemin threw a familiar velvet box at you. You caught it and opened it to reveal the ring you had recently traded. The ring you loved. The ring that symbolized your promise to never forget Jaemin.

“If you agree, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. We can have our own adventures every day, and your grandfather can even move to the castle so we can be near him. I understand if you don’t want to become a princess, but unfortunately that’s the only life I can offer you.” Jaemin looked at you with pleading eyes, “Please say you’ll marry me.”

You pulled the ring out of the box and pushed it onto your finger. “Jaemin, what about your fiancée?”

“She was just as happy to end it as I was. Mother said I should’ve told her sooner that I was already in love with someone. She said I proved my sincerity to her, and any girl who helped me do that was deserving of the princess title.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment. “It wasn’t all me. You’ve always been sincere in your feelings.”

“Maybe,” Jaemin agreed, “but you help me express them. Now please answer my question.”

“Oh,” you grinned. “Of course I’ll marry you. I thought that was obvious.”

“Yay!” Jaemin tackled you in a hug, constricting you as you were still cocooned in your blanket. “We’re going to literally be best friends forever.”

You giggled, “I can’t wait.”

~the end~

anonymous asked:

Last night I dreamt I was lost at sea, on a slab of rock in the middle of nothing.A woman swam up with teeth for eyelashes and promises for irises and she told me she could take me home, as long as I took something of hers back with me. I woke up in a church and spent hours picking worms out of my legs, until I could peel my skin clean off and see the scales underneath. I think she wants to make me like her. I think I saw her today.

I can’t tell you how many times my grandfather would warn me against trusting ladies with teeth for eyelashes. Bad eggs, every one of them. Seems like advice you could have used, but it’s a bit late by now.

Picture Perfect - Part 1

This is my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s SPN Movie Night Challenge! I picked the romantic comedy, Picture Perfect

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Count: 2,089

Summary: The reader tries to convince Dean to be her fake fiance, so she can impress her boss and get a promotion. 


“Ok, everybody! Anyone have any questions? Comments? Concerns?” Your boss yells loudly at the end of your office meeting. “If you do, keep them to yourselves! It’s Friday so I don’t care!”

Your boss Tim jumps up and loosens his tie as he starts singing Can’t Stop The Feeling by Justin Timberlake around the conference room.

Your boss has always been a bit on the eccentric side. Almost like a version of Michael Scott, except dealing with it in real life is not that entertaining.

“Tim. Do you have a minute?” You ask trying to get his attention.

“I want to talk about my promotion.”

“What promotion, Y/N?” Tim says looking confused.

Seriously?!

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Five More Minutes: DWD Drabble

A Darkwing Duck fanfiction for squidsfeather and (sort of) for sonichearts  (you requested a self doubt fic, and I realized while writing this that there was some of that here, but honestly I’ve already got another one going that’s just all self doubt so you’re getting two… Fun times!)

Anywho…

Let’s get into this!

Five More Minutes: In which Darkwing Duck hates clocks, time, and the general boredom and insufferable anxiety that they provide. 


Drake Mallard was not a duck known for his patience. Nor was he known for his exceeding talent at waiting while the clock ticked on without him. His years alone, living in a spacious and barren room on the very top of a hollowed out bridge, had allowed him to use the available space to scream at any pitch he’d wanted whenever frustrations ran high. And he’d done that. 

Quite a lot. 

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Dangerous - John Shelby

Request: request for a John imagine where you don’t quite realise how dangerous he is bc you haven’t been dating that long until your walking back from the shops one day and you see him beating up a guy because he said some bad shit about you and u run away cos ur scared but then John finds u and comforts you. Thank u X

Request: Can I ask one with John where he get jealous when someone flirt with reader? Something like really jealous ahahhah I love your fics you are amazing at writing 😍😍😍 - @buckybear-ivar

Dangerous - John Shelby

You had moved to Small Heath from Newcastle two months ago when your grandfather wrote to your mother to tell her that he was sick. He had left his dowry, which he had accumulated after years of work and saving, to you (his only grandchild) and your father felt it was important that you go down to be with him in his last months as repayment for his generosity. So you had packed a few belongings and travelled down to Small Heath.  

There were a few things that your grandfather was eager to tell you about Small Heath when you first arrived. It was his home and he was proud of it but he cautioned you against some of the neighbors. The Shelbys, according to your father, were devils. He told you to stay as far from the Shelby family as you possibly could but, if you were to see them, be polite.  

“Are they really that bad?” You’d laughed at the stories your grandfather told you.  

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Five Years

So, if you haven’t heard of them yet, @we-write-imagines is this really cool page where you can request some imagines. Now, I personally didn’t request this one, but it got my muse working. So… here’s my first ever Peter Hale fic :):)


Gif Credit

Summary:  It’s been five years since you left Beckon Hills. Five years since you’d last seen Peter Hale, the only man you’d ever loved. Five years since he left you for another woman. Just the idea of seeing him made you feel sick. But now that you were back, you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw him again. But will he welcome you back, or will he crush your heart once more?

Pairing: Peter/You

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood from claiming bite

Bamby

Five years was a long time to be away from home. Five years was a long time to be away from friends and family. But still, it wasn’t long enough to break the aching pain of losing the only man you’d ever loved.

That night’s events were engraved on your mind, like a sick joke your brain refused to let go.

Five years, seven months, two weeks and six days ago, almost to the hour, you’d walked into Derek’s loft for a pack meeting, only to freeze. Sitting there, on the couch, in front of everyone including your younger sister Allison, was Peter.

But it wasn’t just Peter. No. Next to him sat a bombshell of a woman, who’s looks you could never compete with.

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Reborn

Summary: Female Istari were not well known. In fact, none of them existed, except for you of course. Your uniqueness earns you a spot in the company and in a certain elf’s heart.

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Word Count: 2226

Master Lists: Drabbles/Imagines, and Completed Series

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

Requested by:

     Anon: Reader is an istari who is with the dwarves when Smaug attacks and dies helping the dwarves escape.

     Anon: The company comes across a mysterious traveler whom they think to be human ( looks like a human) but is actually immortal or something. Has all these stories of their great adventures. She comes across legolas and he finds her intriguing.

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A Million Reasons-Auston Matthews

Guys, I feel so bad I haven’t been posting much of my own content, and I’m hoping to get back on track here soon. I know it’s no excuse but work has been super shitty lately and I’ve been working 10-11 hour days.  

So, as an apology, here’s an Auston song fic I had written before starting this page.

-Em

Requested: Yes | No

Word Count: 2624

Warnings: angsty, somewhat unrequited love, maybe language, Auston whoring around

Song: A Million Reasons-Lady Gaga
——————————–

You’re giving me a million reasons to let you go

You’re giving me a million reasons to quit the show

This wasn’t the first time it had happened.  But it is the first time that I had caught him doing it.  

For as long as I can remember, so since I moved to Scottsdale, Auston Matthews had been my best friend.  Always sticking by my side, even when he couldn’t be there physically.  We were always talking, emailing, skyping, texting, writing letters, snapchatting.  You name it, we’ve done it.

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The story of us.

I was told, very kindly, by the amazing @jemscorner my lovely friend @takemeawaytocamelot that there might be a small interest in sharing how my husband’s and I’s cross cultural relationship (a born and bred celtic and very traditional Irishman and a wild brassy American woman) real life parallels Jamie and Claire.

@bonnie-wee-swordsman she would be interested in the crazy story of how we met as well. I think it would be easiest to star there and, if anyone is indeed interested, share a few posts from there. (Please know that I am in no way implying that the epic love story that is Jamie and Claire in anyway comes close to my own life. Only that through reading the books I found some very fun moments that reminded me of my own marriage and thought would be fun to share.)


I really felt for Claire, having to decide within months of meeting Jamie, to chose to follow her unexpected deep new found love, or be sensible and stay with her life on its stable, planned track. To risk it all, give up all she knew, live in a country with its own cultural rules, where she is an outsider. I faced something smaller but similar.

At 19 I was going to college full time, had a job, a car, and took care of my grandparents in California, where I was born. On Thanksgiving I was not able to travel with my grandparents to an extended family dinner. I was tearful at work realizing that I would be on my own for the holiday, when my boss at the University saw. She was from Ireland but had settled in California. She insisted I join her family. It was extremely kind but I was slightly terrified of how awkward it would be. Luckily for me she absolutely refused to take no for an answer.

So, at 10am Thanksgiving morning I found myself nervously walking down the street to my boss’ house. I immediately saw my soon to be husband taking with my boss and her neighbor at the door. My first thought was “shit, she has other guests. This will be so stressful.”

My husband’s mum grew up with my boss in Ireland. My boss was like his auntie and a very established professor and department head. She had told him a ‘colleague’ was comming to Thanksgiving dinner. He expected someone of similar age, not a 19 year old American girl.
My husband then spent the next several hours flirting with me while I acted a deer in the headlights, trying to be polite, professional and worthy of dinner at my prestigious boss’ home.
It finally clicked for me at dessert (thanks to a Father Ted quote of all things) that he was interested. We had a lovely night and, as he walked me back to my car, asked if he could see me again. I was more than busy at this time in my life (work, school, nursing my grandfather) but jokingly said I had the weekend off for the holiday.

My husband: Great what time can I pick you up tomorrow?
Me: Ha! Well, I like to sleep in…
My husband: 9am tomorrow then.

9am the next day the biggest bunch of flowers I’ve ever seen was staring at me through the key hole.

Unbeknownst to me, during Thanksgiving my grandfather’s cancer had taken a new turn. He was suddenly confused and not himself. My grandmother took him home and didn’t tell me much of what was bothering him.

So we had our date. A day of hiking arround the hills by the ocean and then a movie (Love Actually). It was amazing but I was clear that I was not looking for a relationship. And he was only in the US for a few weeks visiting. At the end of the date he asked to take me out again Sunday night.

Sunday night came with disaster. My grandfather was suddenly in pain and couldn’t speak. He couldn’t remember how to sit down or stand up by himself. So I comforted my grandmother, called an ambulance and then called my husband to cancel our date. His first question was how I was getting to the hospital.

Me: Driving behind the ambulance I guess.
My husband: No, you can’t do this on you own. I’ll be there in 20 minutes.

He was an hour away technically. But 20 minutes later, breaking all speed laws, he was there.
I had no family to help, no parents to rely on. I had friends, but this man who met me 3 days before swooped in. Took me to the hospital, helped me with the doctors (his dad was a physician in Ireland and he knew his way around.) He stayed with me there, drove me home, tucked me into bed and slept on the couch. The next morning he made breakfast, went to the store to stock up and basically stepped in to look after my grandmother and I. I was a very independent, strong willed girl who was used to caring for others. I had just ended a serious relationship (caught my older handsome man cheating. *coughFrankcough*). I was not looking to be serious with anyone and absolutely not prepared for a gallant young man to jump in to protect and care for me.
I was immediately amazed. But not willing to call it a relationship. My grandfather came home for hospice and my husband practically moved onto the couch to look after me. Eventually my grandfather passed away and some of the extended family showed to help with the funeral.

A few weeks later my husband had to go back to Ireland. I was sad but not willing to admit how much I cared. He promised to come back. And after a few weeks returned. I had never felt anything so powerful in my life.

But decisions needed to be made. Would we try long distance and hope it worked out? He couldn’t legally live in the US. He had work and family in Ireland.

So after a couple of months I decided it was worth risking everything. I made sure my grandmother was alright, I quit my job, withdrew from college and bought a one way ticket to Ireland.

I won’t lie, it was not a simple happy ever after. Adapting to a completely different culture, being an outsider, having to rely on my husband when I was used to being very independent, was tough. But I renrolled in school, got a job and we eventually moved to our own place. There were fights, and home sickness. It was cold and I was not always welcome (there was more than one argument with his sister in gaelic where I was intentionally excluded from the conversation) but it was true love.

We’ve been married for 10 years now, together for 14, and live in the US.

It was a miracle that the day my grandfather started to leave my life, my husband was entering it. It was a miracle that in just a few months I found complete soul deep love. And a miracle that I was crazy enough to choose it, even with the terrifying choices that came with it.

So that’s the story of us. Nowhere near as amazing as the fictional world of Outlander. But I was blown away when I read the books and very greatful to see someone else share even small moments that I could relate to.

True love does exist. It can last for years and across continents. The passion can grow with age and the fire burn brighter with maturity. Knights in shinning armor do exist (and they are as stubborn and exhausting and wonderful as you think.)


(Sorry for typoes but I knew if I thought about it too long I would chicken out. So here it is, mess and all.)

Arranged Marriage: Sehun Edition. Epilogue.

now this is really the end.

word count: 2208

PART 1 |PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7| PART 8 | PART 9 | PART 10 | PART 11 | PART 12 |


Turning off the stove, I wipe sweat off my forehead and lean on the counter finally catching breath. It’s only four in the afternoon but I can already feel how uncontrollable the day will be. I can already see how the time I work my shifts without feeling exhausted are getting smaller and smaller. Placing the dirty dishes in the sink I hear laughter from the dining area already knowing which costumers just arrived.

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To the Straight Men at the Gay Bar

To the straight men at the gay bar
To the straight man at the gay bar
who takes her tits as an invitation to speak
Did you not see the Ms on the back of her hands signaling minor
Signaling young
Signaling half your age
And not interested
You approach her anyway
Because she’s alone with her phone against the wall
She pulled it out of her pocket for a reason
She does not want to look at you
and would prefer
If you kept your eyes to yourself
She is not the feast to quell your hunger
She is not the prize to placate your greed
She is here
To kiss pretty girls
And celebrate being gay in the one place in town that doesn’t want her dead
Her body is not an envelope for you to fill
She is not a story waiting for you to write her
She is her own beast
And it is stronger than yours 

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Miss me?

pairing: Batfam x Reader

relationship: Family

warnings: mild violence, mentions of the army, female reader

request: yet

plot: ohh I loved your first imagine and I cant wait for your next one! I can tell I’m going to love your blog. I just wanted to ask if I could be your first written request? like maybe the reader is like batman’s biological daughter and she joins the military instead of being a vigilante (but she used to be one but then quit) and she like finally comes home after like a year and like surprises them and its like just fluff imagine. maybe she’s like in her suit and helps them beat up some thugs and after shes like like “you miss me” ,with the whole batfam - @solis200213

key: (Y/N)= your name, (H/N)= hero name

words: 1,751 (I may have gone a bit overboard.)

A/N: I don’t know much about the army or how it works, so some of this is based of research and I’m sorry if I got anything wrong. I also think I messed up the comic continuity in it, sorry about that.


Being Bruce Waynes daughter came with a lot of pressure. Pressure to be perfect in the eyes of the media, pressure to take on the family business when you reached the right age as the oldest child to the billionaire (though she was only older than Dick Grayson by a few months), so when the news broke that (Y/N) Wayne was joining the army the media went into a frenzy with conspiracy as to why she was doing it all over the place.

But only she knew the truth, she loved her family, she did, and leaving them killed her a little inside and as much as she loved being a vigilante and helping people in her city, she couldn’t help but feel like she was made for more. So, she joined the army in search of that something ‘more’.

So, she packed her things, moved to South Carolina and started her training. Her past as a vigilante made things easier, she was more agile, she was faster,and she was stronger than most recruits, and so she was able to advance quite quickly. She following the basic training program for 10 weeks (an essential training regime) before completing her advanced individual training to join the special forces in 56 weeks.


(Y/N) loved what she did, it was amazing and she felt like she finally found that something ‘more’ that she was always subconsciously searching for, but she missed home. She hasn’t been back since her initial training and now she could add another year onto that, making it a grand total of over two years since she had seen her family face to face. Sure, she had called them and they had video chats quite frequently, but it wasn’t the same. She missed being able to wrap her arms around her brothers in a bear hug so tight she could feel their heartbeat on her chest.

But now, after spending six months abroad as part of a Joint Special Operations Task Force, she was returning home to Gotham once again for a short-time. Of course, her family didn’t know what, she wanted to surprise them after all. Well, Alfred knew, but that was because Alfred simply knew everything going on in the families lives.

Arriving home, (Y/N) wasn’t surprised to find the manor quiet, it was almost midnight after all and prime time for some thugs to be out on the streets which meant her family was out too. Setting her bag down on the ground, (Y/N) reached up to remove her barett as she looked around her home with a smile. She had missed this place, the atmosphere of peace and family it brought to her was an irreplaceable feelings.

“Mistress (Y/N), it’s good to have you home.” Turning to the butler with a smile, she let out a happy sigh and let a grin spread over her face, “It’s good to be home Alfred.” She walked towards the older man and wrapped her arms around him, taking in the feeling of being held by the man for the first time in a long time. Returning the hug, Alfred let out a gentle chuckle and rubbed the girl’s back as he did.

“Everyone will be pleased to see you home.” She pulled back, the smile still on her face as she did. “The girls are down stairs, they are having a ‘girls night’ I believe and so didn’t go out on patrol.” Rolling her eyes slightly, (Y/N) let out a chuckle. It was just like the girls, even on a night off they could be found in the cave. “Thank’s Alfred.”

“Now go see them. I’ll bring your bag to your room, it’s exactly as you left it.” Giving the older man another ‘thank you’, (Y/N) walked into the main room and towards the old grandfather clock that hid their secret from the rest of the world. With a deep breath, she opened the glass panel protecting the hands of clock and moved them to the right time to give her access to the world underneath the house.

A deep sigh passed her lips as the clock moved and the path to the cave was opened to her. It’s now or never, was the only thought that passed through her lips as she walked down the stairs gently to make sure her footsteps wouldn’t be heard by the girls. Once she reached the bottom, a smile spread across her lips as she watched Cass and Kate spar while Steph watched on and Barbara set at the computer, keeping up with the boys and to make sure they stayed out of trouble.

“Some things never change, do they?” All the girls froze as the familiar voice floated through the air, suddenly they all turned around with large grins on their face. Bracing herself for impact, (Y/N) rose her eyebrow expectantly before she was engulfed in a hug from almost all the girls at once.

Once she was let go, she turned to Barbara and bent down, wrapping her arms around the redhead as she did. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” If there was one thing she regretted, it was not being there when Barbara was put into a wheelchair, she wasn’t there to support her and it broke her. “It’s okay, you’re here now.”

Pulling back with a smile, she looked at all the girls and let out a content sigh as she did. “It’s so good to see you all again.” Licking her lips, she looked at each girl individually, memorising their faces and how they had changed over the two years. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“We’ve missed you do.” Turning to Kate as she spoke, the woman wrapped a arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder and smiled at her, “But we know something that’s missed you even more.” As she now took both of (Y/N)’s shoulder’s in her hands, the rest of the girls smirked as she was turned around to look at what looked like an upgraded (H/N) suit.

“I made a few upgrades and changed the style a little while you were away.” Turning to Barbara with a smile, she let out a chuckle. “Thank you Babs.” As Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest, she rose and eyebrow and pushed (Y/N) towards it slightly, “Why don’t you give it a test run? See if the boys recognize you in it?”


It hadn’t taken a lot of convincing to get her into the suit, so now (Y/N) stood atop a building with Stephanie and Cassandra at either side of her while Barbara and Kate were talking to her through the comms link, one that was separate from that of the boys.

“Okay, so I just sent the boys to deal with some of Joker’s thugs downtown. Why don’t you go meet up with them?” As Barbara talked to them, the three girls smirked and set of to where the thugs were. They got their easily, and quickly, quick enough that they witnessed the boys taking down goon after goon, but every time they took down one goon another two appeared out of what seemed like thin air.

Looking at each other, the three girls nodded and jumped down into the street. Steph, behind Tim as she helped him take on the goons he couldn’t see, Kate between Jason and Dick as she helped them take on goons that were surrounding them, and (Y/N) behind her father, and beside Damian.

Swinging her leg out, (Y/N)’s foot came into contact with the jaw of one of the goons and made him stagger backwards and blood started to pool at his lips, and as he came back up she punched him in the face and knocked him out. She then turned to her side as someone came at her and bent down, swiping her leg under his feet and making him fall down. As he rose to his knees, she brought her knee up and made contact with his jaw before spinning around and kicking him in the face.

(Y/N)’s body filled with adrenaline, but a different type of adrenaline than she was now used to with the special forces, this adrenaline was an all too familiar adrenaline that she has been practically addicted too since she was eleven years old.

Soon all the goons were down and tied up nice and pretty for the police department and the team were watching from a tall building. Removing her mask and turning to her family, a smirk danced onto (Y/N)’s lips, one that resembled the smirk on the lips of her father, “Miss me?”

Dick was the first to react, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl with a hearty laugh and bringing her in tight to his chest as he did. “Of course we did.” He pushed her out to arm’s length after a few seconds and looked her up and down, “It hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“He’s right.” Looking over to Jason, who had since removed his helmet and now only sported his domino mask, “It’s better, I have no one babying me now whenever I get hurt.” With her smirk turning into a grin, Jason’s face contorted into a look of mischief and teasing and she took the broad shouldered man into her arms. “Miss you too Jay bird.”

Next was her second younger brother, who seemed a little shell shocked that she was there, but she knew that was the coffee, sleep deprivation and fighting just taking a toll on him. “It’s really you.” The voice was quiet, belonging to her youngest, and only biological, brother who had grown in the two years she was away.

“Yeah, it’s really me.” With arms out wide, Damian practically dived onto the girl, holding her as close as he physically could. (Y/N) was the only one Damian felt comfortable being like this with, being physical and affectionate, Damian sought her out for comfort before she left and even after she left he went to her with his problems and so to be able to hold her in his arms once again was a relief to the youngest of the bunch.

With a deep breath, (Y/N) looked around her with a smile. She was happy,she was with her family, she was home, even if it was only for a short while.

Since I was only 6 until today. I think they (his family) have helped me to be the person I am right now and I have to thank them for it. To my brother, to my cousin, who have always been there for me, the two of them. [Dries tears away]. To my girlfriend who deals with me everyday at home, winning or losing, she’s always there as well. And thanks as well to the club for trusting me, for trusting in my feelings for this club, and well… Special thanks to my parents for making me and my brother the people we are today. First to my father for taking turns with my Grandfather to drive the two of us to training [Sighs. Dries tears] to fulfill this dream, even though when at the end just one of us could make it, but he’s for sure proud of the two of us… And my mother [he stops. Crowd applauds. He smiles.]