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melis-writes · 3 years ago

Note

prompt idea: Victoria giving birth. again. 😂 but a little different this time:

about 20+ years after they first met, Michael and Victoria are having a family/friends/community/business contacts gathering. (it could be one of Tom or Sonny's grandkids first communion, Michael getting honoured by the church such as in tg3, one of their own kids' comemmoration... is up to you)

a dilf Michael (im drooling just thinking of it) and a boombshell mature Victoria are more in love with each other than ever. their kids have grown and are tracing their own paths (carreers, relationships, grandkids... i'll leave it to you.) and momma Vic is heavily pregnant again in her mid to late 40s, much to everyone's (including their own) surprise.

Michael is completely enchanted by the sight of Victoria expecting again after so many years. and more worried than he has ever been with the potential risks of it. the kids (adults and teenagers by this point 😂) are shocked but extremely happy with the idea of welcoming a new sibling around, and have all eyes on their mom.

a not very amused Victoria sneaks away a little to take a breath of fresh air by herself and ends up with a broken water. Michael and the kids soon realize she's missing and start blamming one another in a very funny scene, only to find Victoria in her bedroom, calmly breathing through her contractions and strangely excited trough the pain, making all of them freak out.

to late to arrive at the hospital, the baby is born there, assisted by the family in the middle of lots of nervousness, laughter, happy tears and unconditional love. With Michael and Victoria more than happy overjoyed to do it all over again with the litte Maria Chiara Corleone.

"you are suffocating me and the child. they're gonna be born already pissed at you"

"how many times i told you to not lose sight of your mother? so many eyes for not even one of it to watch her"

"michael, i should be the one freaking out...AH! just give me your hand"

"hai benedetto ancora una volta la nostra casa, mia regina. una ragazza, tanto tempo dopo verona. Ti amo, Vittoria"

Honestly with these two, I’m not surprised at all Victoria would be pregnant again. 😂❤ Love this!! ❤ A more mature pregnancy down the road with the children mostly all grown up! Lots of excitement in the air to welcome a new little baby to the family, awwwww!! 😍🙏🏻 20 years later means Victoria is about 45, and Michael is 49, Niccolo and Verona are 19, Vincent is 13 and James is 12!

1969 not only marks the year Niccolo and Verona turn nineteen with the end of another prosperous decade for your family, but also with the anticipation of your children’s acceptance to university accompanied with another surprise altogether.

Gathering today with both the Corleone and Ferrari families to celebrate the arrival of two university acceptance letters to mark a new path in the twins’ lives at your family villa in Rome with nothing but excitement in the air.

Niccolo and Verona’s success in both their lives, academics and personal hobbies have brought nothing but enough to boast about on you and Michael’s behalf for two lifetimes.

As champagne and other refreshments are served before the beginning of the family celebration, hearty conversation is made from various families as Niccolo and Verona grin at one another, toasting to sibling success.

Michael, now forty-nine and aged like fine wine; a few grey streaks through his otherwise lighty gelled, brushed back and neatly styled hair—is dressed in an immaculate tuxedo—continuing his lifetime streak of standing out at any celebration or party he attends whatsoever.

Michael’s attention is neither on the various refreshments being served around or indulged in a conversation with one of his brothers or in-laws.

Rather, Michael’s eyes are affixed towards the foyer where he knows you’ll be walking in from at any moment; just putting together the last pieces of your formal outfit for today which of course will have to accommodate for your almost nine-month old baby bump.

You and Michael have cracked smiles and chuckled here and there whenever you two have heard people say Michael and you have “aged like fine wine” with maturity in your appearances looking better than ever, but it couldn’t possibly be closer to the truth than it already is.

Just as Michael sees you approaching now, blushing at the sight of seeing your husband first while you rest your hand over your baby bump, Michael comes to realize yet again just how deeper he’s fallen in love with you as the years have gone by.

Of course the first few years of becoming a mother and father and experiencing new parenthood were critical and blossomed an entirely different love between you and Michael about twenty years earlier, but also watching all of your children grow up, succeed, and finally come down to celebrations like this is so much more than you and Michael could have dreamed of.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Michael murmurs softly as you approach him and he takes your hand in his. “There you are.”

“Almost fashionably late, right?” You blush, pecking a kiss over Michael’s lips. “You wouldn’t believe what a tight fit most of my dresses have gotten lately.”

“Does it matter?” A faint smile forms on the corners of Michael’s lips as he keeps an arm around your waist gently and gazes down at your baby bump. “As long as you and baby Maria are comfortable, the rest of the world can wait when it comes to your clothing choices.”

“Oh, please,” you giggle, amused by Michael’s comment as the two of you stand side by side now, beginning to attract attention by your families.

“Mom’s here!” Niccolo points out, raising his champagne flute to your direction. “And so is baby Maria, I see.”

Light chuckles come from the crowd as you notice your brothers, nieces, nephews and in-laws happily taking a peek at your baby bump as you hug onto Michael’s arm.

“It’s not me being the center of attention today,” you call out, jokingly. “Go on, who else are we waiting for?”

“If you say so!” Verona beams, happily clutching a specially marked envelope with the university’s name concealed next to her twin brother.

Since the twins were sixteen years old, they became more and more affiliated and knowledgeable about the ‘family business’ on both the Ferrari and Corleone family’s behalf.

You and Michael wouldn’t accept the twins to know much of anything until that age, and the same applies for Vincent whose now thirteen—scurrying off from his grandparent’s side to stand next to Michael with twelve-year-old James following and proudly standing next to you.

It’s not that Michael had been expecting Niccolo to change his mind about joining the family business even though he’d been jokingly calling himself “the Don” since he was a toddler, but that Michael encouraged his children to also pursue their own careers and lives instead of completely giving it to the family business as Sonny did.

Niccolo’s stance was firm; he wanted to pursue business at an Ivy League university while working in the family business, then focus on the family business full time after graduation with his own pursuits, investments and businesses on the side.

Verona on the other hand had always expressed wanting to “help people and make them happy” when she was just a little girl.

She was forever inspired by her late grandmother Ludovica’s selflessness as a nurse in her younger years, but decided to pursue a full career in medicine as a private physician instead of enrolling at nursing school.

When it comes to the idea of the family business, Verona doesn’t want to be entirely involved—at least not like her many uncles—but she wants to assist in any way that she can and make it known she’s not trying to hide her name in either family business.

All in all, Verona’s wishes are to have a proper life balance with her own career but if one said Niccolo and Verona aren’t interested in being powerful figures of their own right in the underworld, that would be a complete and utter lie.

Vincent on the other hand admires Michael and you as a role models in all aspects of his life and reminds you much of yourself and Verona in terms of personality and future goals in his life.

Teasing Niccolo and Vincent over resembling their father’s definitely paid off in the future as when James was born, his strikingly similar—almost near identical—looks to Michael surprised everyone and brought out all the more jokes that Michael’s genes were strong enough to make identical, mini replicas of himself.

Vincent and James have both just started middle school, but as Vincent began to grow, his appearance resembled a good mix of both you and Michael’s, whereas Verona looked much more like you with some similarity of Michael’s features too.

Michael and you already know you’ll be hosting a celebration just like this for when Vincent and James begin to apply to universities of their choice—welcoming them into adulthood and paving out the path of their future, celebrated and loved by everyone in the family.

When your family, colleagues and friends were on the topic of how utterly proud they were of your children’s success and how they just grew up so fast, conversation quickly (and with many giggles) also went to the fact you’re now pregnant with your fifth child at the age of forty-five.

After you gave birth to James in 1957, you and Michael continued on being extra careful about safe and unsafe days, when you were ovulating and when to use protection during sex.

In about late 1960 when the first oral contraceptive was introduced, it was the only method of protection you used resulting in twice the sex (much to both you and Michael’s insistence) right up until you missed a few pills earlier this year resulting and very much so surprising Michael and you with a pregnancy at this age.

Almost nine months into the pregnancy now and Michael still looks at you with nothing but pure awe and mesmerization, seeing you pregnant with his child yet again.

Instead of being shocked and going, “really?! Again?!” just as your friends and other family members did, when you told Michael the news of your pregnancy, you saw a warm and genuine smile form over his face and then surprise.

Still, nothing’s changed in terms of Michael’s overprotectiveness and extra care during your pregnancies, and if anything, it’s tripled now into worry as Michael knows there’s double the risks during a mature pregnancy.

Even amidst the jokes the children were making, the twins, Vincent and James were overwhelmed with joy at the news of welcoming a new baby sister—as sufficient technology came into light to determine the baby’s gender as the years went on too.

Now that the children were old enough to know and be aware of your pregnancy, their eyes were on you and the upcoming arrival of their new baby sibling too.

“Alright, alright, one moment.” Niccolo raises his champagne flute to his lips, taking a long sip which envokes chuckles from the crowds of your family. “Ah, that’s better. You know I needed to, because—” Niccolo sets down his drink, waving his acceptance letter in the air. “I woke up to twenty more of these in the mailbox.”

“Nobody likes a bragger, Niccolo.” Verona jokes, nudging her brother gently with her elbow.

“Unless it’s you bragging, right, sis?” Niccolo chuckles, “come on, come on. Open up that letter, I don’t know which one you can accepted either.”

The twins exchange equally ecstatic looks with one another as you begin to feel some discomfort from your pregnancy and let out soft, deep, breaths while trying to focus on their announcement.

Niccolo and Verona both carefully tear open their acceptance letters, pulling out the neatly folded paper inside informing them of their success in enrolling and that both universities of their choice wish to welcome them to their first semester starting in the fall.

“I’ve always wanted to pursue a business degree for as long as I could remember,” Niccolo begins, clearing his throat. “And even though I’m grateful to all of the universities around the country that I was able to enroll in and learn more about as a prospective student, only one stood out to me from the very beginning.”

“And it’s no surprise to anyone how I’ve always wanted to go to medical school—take up after my late grandmother whose inspired me since I was a little girl to aid others just as she did through medicine.” Verona adds, giddily peeking at her acceptance letter.

Cramps, nausea and discomfort aren’t anything new for you and all the more expected now, pregnant at fourty-five.

Still, you remain to hear your children’s choices of university before anything else—a breath of fresh air and some relaxation can wait a few minutes longer.

“I’m happy to announce that I’ve decided I will be going into a joint program at Harvard University this upcoming fall for both a Juris Doctor and Master of Business Administration degree.” Niccolo proclaims.

“And I’m more than grateful and appreciative to say that I’ll be at the very university both my parents added for the Doctor of Medicine program at Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth University!” Verona giggles, almost dropping her admission letter out of excitement.

“Oh my God.” Your eyes light up as you burst into applause with your family. “Congratulations, you two!!”

“Harvard and Dartmouth, huh?” Michael chuckles, joining the applause. “Very, very proud of these two. Would you look at that.”

“They get their smarts from you, you know.” You blush, “no shortage of that.”

“Says one of Nevada’s top prosecutor’s with one of the most illustrious careers anyone has ever seen in law.” Michael gazes at you with disbelief in his eyes. “That’s why your eldest son is also pursing a Juris Doctor degree, baby. You inspire both of our children.”

“Stoooop,” you whine quietly but a smile breaks through your lips as both you and Michael share a kiss with each other. “You’re too good to me.”

Michael takes your hand, raising it up to his mouth for a gentle kiss. “Come on, darling. They’re not going to let this go without at least a few dozen photographs.”

“Let me get my camera first though.” Your eyes light up with the suggestion. “Professional photographs are all the same but I’m definitely taking some of my own for us!”

“You brought it here with you?” Michael asks, letting go of your hand.

“Of course, I did!” You nod enthusiastically, gesturing towards the foyer. “Keep these two entertained at least while I go get it, alright, baby?”

“Mhmm,” Michael steals one last kiss from your lips before you part from him, feeling more or less guilty you’d rather grab the photography camera you indeed did bring after you get some fresh air from how badly nauseous you’ve gotten.

Between Mama Corleone smooching both of the twins’ cheeks and crying out in joy, photographs being snapped from all sides, and Michael’s brothers cracking jokes while Michael makes his way through the crowd of his family to congratulate the children, it’s easy for you to sneak away.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, groaning and feeling a painless yet immense pressure over your abdomen as you push through the back doors of the villa to get out to the courtyard.

“God…” You take in a deep breath, feeling the warm summer air soothe you for only a few moments as you lean against the fenced enclosure of the nearby garden.

It’s not that you were used to having easy pregnancies twenty years ago anyway, but that little baby Maria was causing a bit more discomfort and twice the nausea being pregnant at this day and age now.

‘Let me just…relax a little for a moment.’ You pull over a lawn chair by the garden and carefully take a seat, clutching onto your baby bump and sighing in relief.

You haven’t even realized you’ve mostly been standing all day, and if Michael finds out, he’ll definitely make sure you don’t get up for the rest of the day either—hence why you don’t want him to worry here and now of all places.

“Couldn’t decide if you wanted to be like your mother or your father, huh?” Sonny wraps an arm around Niccolo’s shoulder, teasing him.

“Why can’t I be like both?” Niccolo grins up at his uncle. “I admire both of them more than I do anyone else.”

“Six years of medical school?” Connie scoffs playfully, rubbing Verona’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry honey, it’ll pass by with ease! And you’ll still come to visit us, won’t you? I’m never gonna get used to you and your brother being so far away.”

“I will, I will, don’t worry!” Verona lets out a soft laugh, embracing her aunt. “I promise I’ll be flying in for weekends and holidays for sure. You won’t miss me too much.”

Only ten minutes more of discomfort and insisting pressure pass until you realize something’s beginning to trickle down your leg.

Furrowing your brows, you gasp and practically jump out of your chair to realize the odorless and clear liquid beginning to drip down your legs is your water breaking.

“Oh no,” you groan, grunting out in pain to feel it accompanied almost immediately by the first wave of contractions.

Refusing to walk back inside in front of your whole family and rather knowing now five pregnancies in that a single wave of contractions doesn’t warrant an immediate panic, you’re quick to carefully make your way around the side of the villa and back inside through a side door.

Keeping quiet, you cautiously make your way up the spiral staircase and down the hallway towards your bedroom.

While the hustle and bustle of the party continues, you’re able to shut the bedroom door behind you and move towards the telephone.

You dial Doctor Katherine’s number before hanging up almost immediately, knowing one ring is enough to signal you need medical assistance when she’s in the estate with the rest of your family too.

“Darling, did you—” Michael looks over his shoulder in confusion, about to ask if you’ve returned with your photography camera yet after ten minutes only to not be able to find you amidst the crowd.

“Where’d mama go?” Verona peeps up, looking around for herself. “We can’t take the photographs without her!”

“That’s what I’m wondering.” Michael mutters, rubbing his temples out of stress knowing he’s worried for you at the late stage of your pregnancy to just be away from the family and out of his sight with the discomfort you already have.

"Uh oh, mama's missing." James frowns, glancing at Vincent. "Again."

“Again?” Michael raises his brows at his son, overhearing the conversation.

Niccolo speaks up, “maybe she needed a break—”

“Maybe you should have been paying more attention!” Verona huffs, snatching the champagne glass out of his hand.

“I didn’t see mama last!” Vincent protests. “She was right next to me then, poof—disappeared!”

“Hey, seriously?” Niccolo rolls his eyes at Verona. “You’re gonna blame me for this? Come on. Knowing mom, she probably walked all the way back to New York for a breath of fresh air.”

“That’s not entirely impossible.” Michael sarcastically comments, “how many times have I told you two in specific—being the eldest—not to lose sight of your mother?”

“Not my fault, daddy!” Vincent pouts.

“Vincent, when did I ever say it was your fault?” Michael blinks at his son.

Vincent smiles back happily at his father. “I wanna help find mama like everyone else.”

“So many eyes on her and yet not one bothering to watch her.” Michael sighs out of annoyance, gesturing for the children to follow. “Come, unless I’m very wrong I know she’ll be upstairs and she has no reason to be.”

“Do we need to take her to the hospital?” Verona frowns, beginning to follow after her father with her brothers. “She’s that close to the delivery date and much more uncomfortable than before, dad.”

“I was thinking the same but she refuses to let me worry about her at all.” Michael smoothens out the sides of his hair, heading up the staircase. “In any case, we may just need to get a doctor to check up on her.” Michael clears his throat, approaching the bedroom. “Victoria?”

Taking in deep, calm breaths one at a time, you clutch onto your baby bump while sitting on the edge of the bed and fighting through your contractions.

“Victoria?” Michael can hear the sounds of panting as he eyes his children, giving a universal ‘give-us-some-privacy-please’ before he enters the bedroom.

The twins, Vincent and James all step back and remain at an appropriate distance to the bedroom as Michael pushes open the door.

“I c-called,” you breathe out, pointing to the telephone. “It’s okay, Doctor Katherine’s coming.”

Michael barely registers anything you’ve just said to him. Instead, his eyes fall to your chest—seeing how heavily you’re breathing, the sweat beginning to form on your forehead, and now with your water breaking—the stream of clear liquid leaking down your legs uncontrollable.

“No, it’s not okay.” Michael presses his lips together—worry crossing his eyes. “We’re getting you to a hospital, Victoria. Now.”

“Michael,” you shake your head at him, pointing down to your trembling and weak knees. “I-I’m not going to be going anywhere.”

From the moment that Doctor Katherine arrives, there’s already a unanimous decision that two things are going to occur: one, that the children will return back to their party and preoccupy family so none even have the time to question where Michael and Victoria are and two, Victoria’s going to be giving birth at home with the full assistance of Doctor Katherine and Michael.

The only thing that eases some of Michael’s worry is the fact that the bedroom walls are almost entirely soundproof at the villa; as if Michael kneeling down next to you to keep you comfortable while you’re screaming and pushing out your baby isn’t already driving him mad with worry and stress.

“We should have taken her to a hospital,” Michael glares at Dr. Katherine, squeezing your hand. “She’s in pain.”

“Urghhhh!” You grunt out, “h-hurts! It hurts!”

“She’s giving birth, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine clarifies, keeping your legs spread and noting the dilation level. “You may not have been present the last four times but the screams are no different than now.”

“That doesn’t help at all.” Michael sighs, looking down at you in worry.

“Michael,” you let out a shaky breath, giving your husband an annoyed look. “You’re more worried than I am—ahhh! Ugh, I should be the one freaking out and—ahhhhhhhh!” You shriek again, feeling the baby pushing outward. “Just keep holding my hand!”

“Right, right.” Completely clueless about childbirth, all Michael can do is sit on the edge of the bed by your side amidst internal nervousness as Dr. Katherine assists you.

“I can see her head already, Mrs. Corleone...” Dr. Katherine smiles up at you, keeping a towel covering your legs. “You’re doing fantastic.”

“Ahem—” Michael exchanges a glance with Dr. Katherine, obviously having no idea what’s actually going on with the birth from where he’s sitting and the towel covering you.

“It’s best you don’t see just yet, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine advises, extending her hand out. “Could you please pass me another clean towel?”

Michael reaches off the pile he had brought out from the bathroom and hands Dr. Katherine one before pulling the towel from underneath you, noticing some blood stains over it.

“Michael—just give me your hand!” You groan, swatting the towel out of his hand.

“She’s bleeding?!” Michael’s panicked eyes look towards Dr. Katherine.

“Of course she is.” Dr. Katherine nods, encouraging you to keep pushing. “Bit more, Mrs. Corleone. Keep pushing and don’t relent.”

“Let me get her another one—” Michael reaches into the towel pile and while grabbing a longer one out, he accidentally tugs a bit too hard and causes the towel to fly on top of you.

“You’re suffocating me and the baby already!” You squeal, laughing weakly through your contractions. “T-the baby’s not going to be happy with you, Michael.”

“She’s definitely not going to be impressed with me is all.” Michael mutters under his breath, taking the towel off of you and carefully inching it underneath your thighs. “Why exactly is my wife bleeding?”

“It’s all coming from the cervix, Mr. Corleone.” Dr. Katherine chuckles, amused by Michael’s questions knowing he has his best interests and intentions in mind to be there for you and make sure you’re comfortable above all. “Very normal during labor and you’ll see after the birth…ah! Go on, Mrs. Corleone! Give one big push! BIG PUSH!”

Michael’s eyes immediately dart back down to you as he kisses your knuckles; your hand still intertwined with his.

“I’m—” You groan out loudly, gritting your teeth from the pain. “P-pushing! Pushing…!”

“She’s coming, she’s coming! Keep pushing, Mrs. Corleone! The baby’s head is out!” Dr. Katherine urges. “Almost there! You’re doing so well!”

You make eye contact with Michael through happy tears, sniffling and giggling at the permanent confused and panicked look over your husband’s face.

“Ah!” You let out a final cry, exhaling deeply in relief as Dr. Katherine reaches her hands beneath the towel and beams, carefully grasping the baby. “Oh my Goddddd,” you whimper, bursting into tears.

Michael’s eye slight up to hear the sounds of a little baby crying and sees little baby Maria’s hand flailing in the air as Dr. Katherine moves her away from the towel.

“There is she, Mr. and Mrs. Corleone!” Dr. Katherine cautiously snips the umbilical cord before wrapping up the the newborn baby girl in a towel and carefully handing her to you.

“My God,” you hiccup throughout your tears, snuggling the little baby up to your breast. “M-Michael, look at her.”

“There she is…” A warm smile forms over Michael’s lips as he leans over to see his daughter cuddled up in your arms. “Our baby.”

“A healthy baby girl.” Dr. Katherine happily notes. “Congratulations, little miss Maria is here a little earlier than expected but it looks like she couldn’t miss her older brother and sister’s celebration for the world.”

“I guess not.” You laugh throughout your tears, gazing at Michael’s smile.

“Oh, she’s beautiful.” Michael murmurs, extending his hand to a crying Maria who snatches onto her father’s pinky finger. “Just like her mother… Our little baby Maria.”

“Born in Rome too.” You blink past your tears as you look over at your baby daughter nestled in your arms; Doctor Katherine disposing of the placenta and cleaning up the bloodied towels around you. “Aren’t you, little Maria?”

“Think she has more in common with her mother already and she’s only been here for a few minutes.” Michael brushes aside a loose strand of hair from your face, kissing your forehead gingerly. “Born at home and in Italy.”

“She’s got her own set of bragging rights already.” Dr. Katherine jokes, replacing the towels around you and monitoring for any further blood loss.

“I love her so much.” Your voice breaks as you hold back your tears. “She’s so perfect.”

“She is, baby, she is.” Michael kisses both of your cheeks, admiring little Maria who begins to calm her crying.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Dr. Katherine says quietly, smiling and knowing she’s got something else to let your family know who’ve now all been questioning your absence.

As Dr. Katherine exists the bedroom, Michael remains leaned over next to you with his hand lovingly caressing your cheek—whispering to you in Italian. “Hai benedetto me e la nostra casa con un altro bambino, e questa volta una ragazza. Una ragazza, molto dopo Verona.” (You have blessed me and our house with another child, and this time a girl. A girl, long after Verona.)

Through tear-filled eyes, you weakly gaze up at your husband who plants soft little kisses around your cheeks, letting Maria continue to grasp onto his finger. “Ti amo, Vittoria.” (I love you, Victoria.)

#godfather au #prompts #Michael corleone #Michael corleone x reader #Michael corleone fanfic #moth to flame fanfic #michael corleone x oc #godfather x reader #not canon #moth to flame fic

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nightwingswing · 7 years ago

Text

“The Two Spains” (Boombshells! Jason Todd x Hispanic! Reader) (Part 1/?)

Hello my lil’ wings!!

I promise soon will come all these hc I promised! And also, the next part of “Stop that wedding!”

so today I discovered that Jason in boomshells is an basque spanish boy!

And his brief story was settled in the spanish civil war. So being the history buff i am...I had to give this a chance!

So i hope you enjoy this!

This part is longer and more history settled (sorry for the history leson xdd) so you dont get lost. The next part will be more dinamic and romantic. The reader is settled to be a valencian girl, as I know the language and also i know more about how the war was lived there. My grandparents have told me about how it was.

Btw, so you know a bit more about me, Im spanish! Valencian to be more exact.

Tags: @hamsterforlive @plethora-of-things @wonderlace19 @totallovelesson @algentforthewin @crazyfreckledginger @electra-writes33

If you want to be taged in this or any of my other fics message me anytime!

Also,let me know in the coments your thoughs and if this fic deserves a second part!

(Also, Im sorry if any of the Euskera words are wrong, I do not speak Euskera. Tell me if there is anything wrong so i can correct it!)

now,

enjoy!

[17/10/1936 | Euskadi, Spain. | Nightime]

*BAM!*

Your eyes opened in alarm as you heard the strong sound.

“SHH!”

You tiptoed over your toys on the ground to get to the door, where you slightly looked out to see what had made that sound.

You saw your father, talking in hushed tones to your mother. Worry painted her skin pale. Her eyes wide as she and your dad listened close to the wavering, echoing, hushed radio. Your father fist was closed tightly as you closed your eyes to listen intently.

“- Pamplona, Burgos, Zaragoza, Valladolid, Cádiz, Córdoba, Y finalmente Sevilla han apoyado el pronunciamiento del grupo militar de José Sanjurjo. El gobierno-”

[Pamplona, Burgos, Zaragoza, Valladolid, Cádiz, Córdoba, and finally Seville have supported the “pronunciamiento” (a declaration of military opposition) by José Sanjurjo’s military group. The government-]

“¡MIERDA! ¡JODER!” [SHIT! FUCK!] Your father said frustrated. Your mother quickly hushed him, as she saw your cowering form on the doorframe.

“Jason? nire maitea [my dear] Did you have a nightmare? “Your mother smiled as she came to pick you up. You hugged her neck “Let’s get you back to bed” She petted your back as you looked at your father, who looked at you with a dark glance. You hided your face in your mother’s soft neck as she entered your room once again.

“Ama” [mom] you said with a quivering voice. “Why was aita [dad] so mad?” Her smile faltered as she covered you with your thin cotton sheet.

“It’s nothing you should worry about mi bebe [my baby] Now sleep, my dear. You have school tomorrow.” She brushed your hair back as she kissed your forehead. “gau ona, nire maitea.” [good night, my dear]

“Gau ona,ama” You smiled as your eyes fluttered closed.

What you didn’t know is that it was the beginning of the end.

//♡\\

[ 18/10/1936 | Valéncia, Spain. | Morning]

The sweet smell of chocolate made your eyes fluttered open.

You smiled as the gentle face and warm smile of your mother greeted you.

“Good morning, Carinyet.” [ my darling] She smiled. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning, mami.” [mommy] You smiled. “I did. I dreamed of being in the countryside with grandma again!” Your mother smile widened as she brushed you (h/c) hair to the side. Big bags under her eyes as she hugged you tightly.

“Mami? Something wrong?” You asked, hugging her back.

“n-no, perla [my pearl] …just get dressed and join us downstairs.” She smiled.

“Okay!” You smiled innocently. Your mother exited the room as your thirteen-year-old body carried you to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and changed to your thin but warm (f/c) dress, you put your old weathered shoes on and skipped downstairs.

You greeted your dad and your sibling as you took your seat next to your mother.

The sound of the radio harmonized your breakfast as you all keep silent eating your food. Meanwhile, you zoomed out the news as you looked at your parents face intently.

Your father face looked tired, heavy bags under his eyes. He was dressed in his uniform, it looked a bit out of place, his tie was fumbled as his normally slicked back (h/c) hair was all over the place.

When his (e/c) eyes made contact with yours you looked away to your plate. After eating, your mother coughed to get your attention.

“You all know…how dad works in the army right?” she smiled, holding your fathers hand. “Well…you see…um…y-yesterday-y um..something…big..happened…and ah..we..” her unwavering (e/c) gaze locked into yours put you on edge as your father hugged her shoulder. She sighed heavily as you father spoke.

“We are moving.”

“What?” said your sibling. “Why?!”

“The reason why is not…important right now. We are leaving in two days. We are moving to Castilla La mancha.” His eyes looked into yours as they filled with sorrow. “(y/n) …you will stay with your grandmother okay? She will come pick you up tomorrow.”

“W-what?” you said as your eyes filled with tears.

“WHY?! WHY CAN’T SHE COME WITH US?!” Your sibling yelled, getting up from their spot.

“ITS SAFER FOR HER TO STAY HERE! SHE CAN’T COME WITH US. IT’S NOT GOING TO BE PRETTY!” Your father yelled back.

“IM NOT GOING WITHOUT HER!” He yelled back, your father got up as he slapped your sibling’s cheek. You let out a sob as your mother ran to hug you. You hugged back tightly, soaking in her warmness. As you breathed her essence deeply you heard your sibling’s heavy angry steps upstairs. You pulled away from your mom as you followed them upstairs.

You could hear their sobs as you opened their door silently, you peeked your head and with a soft voice asked:

“(tete [bro]/teta[sis])? Can I come in?” You asked softly. They wiped their tears as they sat on the bed.

“come here” they smiled softly as you ran to their arms. They hugged you tightly. “I promise I will come to find you.”

You smiled. “I know (tete/teta)…I will wait for you to come for me.” You smiled, kissing their tears. They smiled back as they untied the thin chain around their neck, hanging from it a little old white-pink shell.

“Remember this?” They smiled. “You made it for my birthday when you were a small baby.” They smiled and put it around your neck, tying it softly as you looked at it. “You said it was so I could remember you forever… now it’s yours. It’s a promise, that I will come for you.” They smiled, hugging you.

“Wait!” You said, pulling away from the hug and running to your room. Your loud steps resonated on the house as you came back quickly. You smiled cheekily as you showed them a wool (f/c) wristband. You tied it around their right wrist and smiled.

“This is my promise to you that I’ll be there when you come to get me!” You both smiled as you melted in a loving hug.

//♡\\

[19/10/1936 | Valéncia, Spain | Midday]

You sat on the window chair, bathing in the warm sun. Your Ausiàs March book rested on your lap.

It was the one of the few books you could own. A present from your grandfather.

You sighs as your favorite poem was presented before you, it’s pages slightly broken, your smile widen as you take a deep breath and start reading out loud your favorite poem:

XLVI

Veles e vents han mos desigs complir

faent camins dubtosos per la mar.

Mestre i ponent contra d’ells veig armar:

xaloc, llevant los deuen subvenir

ab llurs amics lo grec e lo migjorn,

fent humils precs al vent tramuntanal

que en son bufar los sia parcial

e que tots cinc complesquen mon retorn.

[Let wind conspire with sail to give me what I long for, carrying me across the sea's perilous highways! Even now I can see the winds from the West and North-West gathering hostile forces: the Sirocco and theSouth-Western must hold them back, enlisting the help of their allies, the North-Eastern and the Midi, and humbly imploring the North wind to lend its support, so that all five of them blowing together may bring about my return.]

Bullirà·l mar com la cassola en forn,

mudant color e l’estat natural,

e mostrarà voler tota res mal

que sobre si atur un punt al jorn.

Grans e pocs peixs a recors correran

e cercaran amagatalls secrets;

fugint al mar on són nodrits e fets,

per gran remei en terra eixiran.

[The ocean will bubble like a pot of stew taken to the baker's oven to cook, changing colour and losing its natural form as it seethes. Anything that ventures upon it, even for a single moment, will feel the force of its rage, and all the fish beneath will rush for shelter to secret hiding-places. But in the end they too will have to abandon the very sea which spawned and nurtured them and, in utter desperation, leap out on to dry land.]

Los pelegrins tots ensems votaran

e prometran molts dons de cera fets;

la gran paor traurà al llum los secrets

que al confés descoberts no seran.

En lo perill no·m caureu de l’esment,

ans votaré al Déu qui·ns ha lligats

de no minvar mes fermes voluntats

e que tots temps me sereu de present.

[There's not a pilgrim on my ship who will not call upon Heaven, making vows and promises of countless votive offerings of wax. Sheer terror will force out secrets that not even the confessor has learned. But in the midst of this danger, I shall think only of you, and I shall make my vow to that same God who joined us never to weaken in my resolve, and to keep you constantly in my thoughts.]

Jo tem la mort per no ser-vos absent,

perquè amor per mort és anul·lats;

mas jo no creu que mon voler sobrats

pusca ésser per tal departiment.

Jo só gelós de vostre escàs voler

que, jo morint, no meta mi en oblit.

Sol est pensar me tol del món delit

car, nós vivint, no creu se pusca fer:

[ I fear death only because it would mean absence from you, and because death blots out love. Not that I think that even such a separation could vanquish my desire. Rather, the fear that preys on me is that you do not desire me as you ought, so that, should I die, you would never think of me again. Even though it seems impossible that I should be less than happy while we both live, there is one thought that makes me wretched:]

aprés ma mort d’amar perdau poder

e sia tost en ira convertit,

e jo, forçat d’aquest món ser eixit,

tot lo meu mal serà vós no veer.

Oh Déu, ¿per què terme no hi ha en amor,

car prop d’aquell jo·m trobara tot sol?

Vostre voler sabera quant me vol,

tement, fiant, de tot l’avenidor.

[ that you would no longer be able to love me once I was dead, and that you would soon find your love turning to hate. As for me, driven from this world, I would feel no other torment than to be unable to look upon you. Oh God, if only there were bounds to love—for I alone among lovers would have almost reached them by now. Then, instead of being by turns full of fear and hope for all that the future might hold, I would know for sure how much love your heart harbors for me.]

Jo són aquell pus extrem amador

aprés d’aquell a qui Déu vida tol.

Puis jo són viu, mon cor no mostra dol

tant com la mort per sa extrema dolor.

A bé o mal d’amor jo só dispost,

mas per mon fat fortuna cas no·m porta.

Tot esvetlat, ab desbarrada porta,

me trobarà faent humil respost.

[ No one has ever taken his love to greater extremes than I—except those who have given their lives for its sake. While I continue to live, I cannot offer as much proof of my heart's suffering as I could by dying. I am prepared for whatever love has in store for me, good or bad. But Fortune has not yet revealed what my fate is to be. When she does, she will find me waiting up, my gates unbarred, ready to do her bidding humbly.]

Jo desig ço que·m porà ser gran cost

i aquest esper de molts mals m’aconhorta.

A mi no plau ma vida ser estorta

d’un cas molt fer, qual prec Déu sia tost;

lladoncs les gents no·ls calrà donar fe

al que amor fora mi obrarà;

lo seu poder en acte·s mostrarà

e los meus dits ab los fets provaré.

[ The very thing I pray will happen could cost me dear, and yet this same hope consoles me in my great suffering. In that fearful event, with which I pray God will provide me soon, I do not want my life to be spared. When that hour comes, people will see the outer signs of love in me, and will not need to take my word alone. Love's potentiality will be revealed in act, and I shall have proved my words with deeds.]

Amor, de vós jo·n sent més que no·n sé,

de què la part pijor me’n romandrà,

e de vós sap lo qui sens vós està.

A joc de daus vos acompararé.

[ Love, if only I understood you as much as I feel you! As things are, I'll be left with only that part of you that's no good to anyone. Nobody can know you for what you are until he is free of you. What can I compare you with, except a game of dice?]

As you sigh you heard soft claps, you turned to the door and saw your grandmother. She smiled warmly at you.

“You did so great my darling!” the old woman smiled. “you have an amazing voice!”

“¡Iaia!” [ grandma!] You yelled excitedly as you ran to hug her. Her frail arms surrounded you in her warmness. You smiled as your nostrils smelled that familiar smell mixed with the smell of flowers.

“La meua xicoteta pit-roig…” [my little robin] She smiled, brushing your hair. “ Don’t worry, you and I will have a lot of fun on the town.”

“But…(s/n)….(he/she)..” You started tearing up as she wiped them away.

“shhh, (he/she) will come back after everything passed…” she cooed

“but, iaia…what’s going on?” you sniffled.

“(Y/n)” Your father breathed. He was hugging your mother waist tightly. You mother looked on the verge of tears, her arms holding your father weakly, you were sure if your father wasn’t holding her she would be on her knees. Your grandma let you go to hug her daughter, who softly started sobbing and whispering to her. Your father came to you and kneel, hugging you tightly. His uniform felt cool to the touch, his hair tickled your temple as he let out a restrained sob.

“Be careful…” He whispered. “We will come for you soon. Just…be careful…”

“I will, papi…” You sniffled as you hugged him tightly. “Just…promise me whatever is going on…you’ll come back home.” You voice broke slightly as you said the last words.

“I will…” he smiled sadly. “I promise.” You hugged him tightly. Your mother broke to tears as your sibling and grandmother held her.

All of you knew he may not be able to hold his promise at all.

//♡\\

Spain then was broken in two, the known as rebel zone and the republican zone. Families alike where separated by war.

On Thursday July 23rd a National Defense Board, which would be set up the next day in Burgos. Their Decreet No. 1 established that it assumed "all the powers of the State" and that it would represent the country before foreign powers, although in the following weeks no country recognized it and continued to consider Spain's legitimate government the leftist republican José Giral. Franco was chosen as chief military commander at a meeting of ranking generals at Salamanca on 21 September, now called by the title Generalísimo. Two days after relieving the siege of Alcazáe, Franco proclaimed himself Caudillo ("chieftain", the Spanish equivalent of the Italian Duce and the German Führer -meaning: 'director')

On 1 October 1936, General Franco was confirmed head of state and armies in Burgos.

They were aided by Portugal, the Nazi Germany and fascist Italy, the second made of Spain their laboratory for their world war II weapons.

On July 27, 1936, the first Italian aircraft squadron sent by Benito Mussolini arrived in Spain.

//♡\\

[27/10/1936 | Euskadi, Spain. | Daytime]

“Kabenzotz!” He yelled as he held his red beanie tightly. He ran between the crowded streets. He bit his lip as he hided behind a group of nuns when he saw his father and his group exit a bar, the shotguns clearly shining on their backs. The nuns sensed his discomfort and stayed put until he saw his father turn the corner. He thanked them and keep running.

He was walking towards his hideout as he clutched a note tightly.

His teacher, Miss Echevarria who knew him since he was practically a toddler had pulled him aside. She knew his family, and she knew how lonely Jason was during the day. She told him she had an old friend whose sister was going to be isolated just like him, she told him they had sorted that both of them needed a friend…so why not them?

Jason sat on the dusty ground as he pulled the note open. It had a small note from his to be pen pal.

He pulled his old notebook and his pen as he read the small smuggled note.

Hola!

Hello stranger, my sibling told me you were going to be my friend?

Well. This is kind of weird as I don’t know if this will arrive to you.

But my name is (y/n) (l/n) I live in Valencia. I’m 14 years old and I like (f/sport), reading and (f/h). I hope we become good friends! Ill be waiting your response giddy!

Que tinges un bon dia! [Hope you have a good day]

-(y/n)

Jason smiled as he pulled the note on his pocket. He put his notebook on his lap as he started writing.

Kaixo! [hello!]

Its nice to meet you! I did receive the note yes! My teacher Miss Echevarria gave it to me!

My name is Jason, Jason Todd! I live in Vizcaya! But I want to see more than my small town! I like adventure, reading and poetry!

Um…could you tell me something about your town? I’ve heard the Mediterranean Sea is very blue and calm! And that you got some pretty flowers too!

I do hope we can become friends! You make me feel less alone!

Waiting eager for your answer!

Agur! zaindu! [Goodbye! Take care!]

-Jason

The next day, Jason gave his note to a noticeably tired and paler Miss Echevarria, who smiled at him and saved his note on her bag.

Later that day, his note was send through the mail.

“Soon” both of them smiled.

Even if the country was breaking, their bond wouldn’t.

As love had just bloomed.

(So, what do you think?? Do you think i should write a part 2?)

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