#I'm gracious that I'll be able to be there for my grandfather but..

[kindred-sims]

Part 2/2

TW: Emotional abuse, verbal abuse

"How dare I? How dare you! I'm a guest in your home, is this how you would treat your guests?" Sterling scoffed at Caleb. "Really, I would've thought that even simple farm folk could raise their children with at least some manners..."

"...Jo, go put Carrie back to bed. I don't want her here for this."

Caleb spoke both sternly and plainly, keeping his angered gaze focused on his father-in-law as Jo numbly walked out of the room with their daughter in tow. He hadn't been proud for yelling in front of the two of them as he had, but his anger had been kindled, and he could no longer force himself to remain as pleasant as he'd tried to be all evening.

As far as he was concerned, Mr. Blythe had crossed a very strong limit with his words. And that was a limit that no man should ever dare cross as long as a Wakefield was around.

"If you must know Mr. Blythe, my parents did raise me to have good manners, and they certainly raised me to be gracious," He tried to keep his voice level, but his ire was too hard to disguise, and it was taking everything in him to not begin shouting again.

"But they also taught me to put my family first above anything else, and that's what I'm doing now. For that, I'm not going to let you stand around and continue belittling my wife any longer--"

"I'm sorry, your wife?" The other man let out a harsh chuckle. "Forgive me for saying so, but I believe she's been my daughter longer than she's been your wife. I'll treat her however the hell I please, and I'll be damned if some oafish farmer is going to tell me what to do!"

"Papa, that's enough!"

Try as she might, Jo hadn't been able to bring herself to leave Caleb alone with her father, and had swiftly returned after ensuring that Carrie was settled. She didn't know why, but overhearing his insults toward Caleb -- combined with the nasty things he had to say about Carrie, had caused something inside of her to snap, and she knew she couldn't stay quiet anymore.

She didn't want to either.

For nearly twenty-one years she'd been dealing with his cruelty, and she was done playing the timid creature.

"Oh, you stay out of this, girl, this doesn't concern you--"

"No. I think it does," She spoke firmly, stepping between Caleb and her father. "Papa, my whole life you've been treating me as if I'm an inconvenience to you, and you've never once given me any indication that you love me or actually care for me. And for what reason? Because I'm not the son you wanted?"

"Christ, Josephine, I've heard all I want to hear--"

"I'm not finished yet," Jo kept on, both her voice and body trembling something terrible. She was terrified, but she couldn't stop. "I could've handled it, you know? If you only came here to insult me further, but you didn't. You've not only insulted me, but you deliberately chose to insult both my husband and child, and I refuse. I refuse to let you do those things any longer."

"Like hell you can refuse me, I'm your goddamn father! I'm the only family you have left you ungrateful brat! What do you think your mother would say, or your grandmother?"

"I'm not a child anymore, Papa!"

Jo surprised even herself with how loud she became, but she didn't back down. So many years of hurt, so many years of pain all came spilling out in that one sentence, and by God did it feel so freeing.

"That isn't going to work with me anymore, it won't. You're not my family, you have never been my family," she continued "I have Caleb and Carrie now, I don't need anything from you. I don't want anything else."

"Well I--"

"And furthermore, if I do have a son someday, I will never tell you. Because I'd rather my children have no grandfather at all versus one who is a cruel, selfish excuse of a man."

Sterling looked taken aback by all these words, staring at Jo like he was trying to figure out where his shy, meek daughter had gone. Maybe this was who she really was, maybe he'd never known her at all.

Either way, it was nothing Jo would lose sleep over.

Still seated on the couch, Cora was the next to say something, her voice a hushed whisper.

"Sterling, I think its best we leave now..."

He didn't respond, stood silently for about another minute, before finally grumbling under his breath and following his wife out of the parlor. He glanced back one more time as they departed, a searing fire burning in his expression.

"I hope you're satisfied, Josephine, truly. I thought marrying you off to this simpleton might humble your selfish ways, but I can see now that that was only a fool's dream," he said cruelly, but Jo refused to look at him, keeping her back turned. By now, her resolve had crumbled, and she refused to let him see her cry. Not as he had so many other times before.

"You'll get what you want, mark my words. You couldn't pay me to come back to this pigsty, even if I wanted to. You won't be seeing me, or a cent of your inheritance for that matter. I have every intention to have everything transferred to Edward as soon as he turns eighteen. At least I know the family fortune will be in more...competent hands."

"Oh keep your damn money, Mr. Blythe, we certainly don't need it." Caleb hissed, refusing to take his eyes off either of the Blythes until they'd left the house. He turned to Jo, and it only took one glance at her face for him to pull her into a tight embrace.

"Its over now, love. They're gone, you can cry," He held her close as she sobbed into his shoulder, her entire body shuddering. "I've got you, its alright..."

"God, he's so horrible. He's so horrible, Caleb, how dare he say such awful things!" Her voice was muffled, yet audible enough to know that it was breaking. "About you, about Carrie...what did she do to him besides exist? She's only a baby, she didn't do anything, she couldn't have..."

His entire shoulder soon became doused in her tears, but Caleb didn't care. Only kept holding her, until he was sure she was going to be okay. That she was going to feel safe again. Because while he may be an oafish farmer who couldn't read or write all that well, he knew how to care.

He knew how to love.

Because he loved Jo more than her father could ever claim to. He'd meant every word of his wedding vows the day he'd recited them, and he had every intention to uphold them for as long as the Good Lord would allow him.

[littlesparklight]

Another snippet from the sequel to This Pleased the heart of Aphrodite, with Kinyras of Cyprus and Menelaos :) :

"As you might know, I had the fortune of marrying Helen of Sparta over all the rest who came to offer bride price for her," Menelaos said after a beat of silence, closing his eyes briefly. A little tremble rippled through him. "And we had the fortune of a good marriage, until a number of weeks ago, by now. We received a guest, and he was---"

Kinyras nodded, as if that cracking pause had been an intentional break to draw breath. He thought of his own wife, usually so involved in the life of the palace but right now still in their rooms, weighed down under the loss of their daughters in such a manner. If he lost her---

Swallowing a sigh, Kinyras folded his hands together in his lap. But he was not the one who had lost his wife, and while he, too, was suffering from Aphrodite making herself known in the life of his family, it didn't matter. Not when it came to the king of Sparta.

"Pleasant. Charming."

Like whipcracks, those two words were condemnations, Menelaos' face instantly darkening and his hands, loosely spread out the moment before, closed into fists. His mouth briefly trembled before it, too, firmed.

"Too charming; he has stolen my wife with wiles, and emptied my house with impunity, while I was away attending my grandfather's funeral in Crete. This is an insult not only to me, but all married men, I'm sure you can agree. You didn't take part in the courting of Helen, and the oath all her suitors swore has no hold on you, but I beg you by the laws of Zeus Xenios and the oaths of our marriages; will you not aid me?"

Menelaos spread his hands again, chest heaving and as tumultuous as his words, his eyes.

"We are gathering the suitors and any who will join in this cause, but I might be able to avoid bloodshed if I can catch Prince Alexander of Troy before he reaches Troy with his stolen treasures, and I have cause to think he would come this way."

His wife stolen, but a very willing stolen, in such case. Kinyras well remembered Helen, imperious and glorious under the sun, distant and yet warm in the light. Gracious, and no trembling, tearful fawn.

If she had come to him, asking refuge---

Perhaps. But he was his goddess' priest first and foremost.

"Your loss is a loss for all of us," Kinyras said quietly, standing up. "And yet more so when having to deal with a loss in the family at the same time. I will do what I can - while neither your wife nor the prince of Troy is here on Cyprus, I'll give fifty ships to join your cause if you shouldn't catch them, and I'll give armour for your brother, as he surely will need to aid you in your cause. I am but a servant, and if I see your wife and Prince Alexander after you leave, I'll send swift word."

[cereusblue]

Out of all the things that could happen in a year, even the things you know are coming, you’ll still never be fully prepared for them. However, I find it kind of suiting that something I’ve known to be on the way happens but two weeks after the death of Unus Annus.

TW for mentions of death but..

To start this, I’ve always had a really strange relationship with death. I’ve never really feared it and even now I don’t fear it but I’ve always hid and ran away from the concept because I’ve always been aware that it is an inevitable. But that doesn’t mean it made accepting it when it came time any easier.

My grandmother is currently on her way out and even though we can’t see the exact timer, we know it’s there. The timer ticks with the loss of motor controls. It ticks with the failing in her ability to recognizing her eldest daughter. It ticks when she foregoes saying anything else to my grandfather when he calls to merely say, “I want to come home to die.” I’ve watched this 82 yr old woman fight stage four cancer for damn near twelve years and seeing it take the ticking clock by the hand to catch up with her just hurts a whole lot more.

And if I’m to be honest? I have no idea how I would be handling this if this was two weeks prior or even a month prior. I just want to extend my thanks to @markiplier and @crankgameplays and everyone who worked on Unus Annus for all they’ve done because I’ve just been going through memories and memories stashed away to try and cope with what’s happening. While I’m still sad it’s gone I’m glad it happened. But Idk man, I still wish I could go back even just for a moment to hear to these two goobers tell me it’s going to be alright. Because even if things are never going to actually be alright again, it’s going to okay.

But we can’t go back. We can never go back in time because time waits for no one.. But let’s just take a moment to play with hypotheticals because it’s a concept and if time is my enemy right now and it’s just a concept too, why not? If I was asked what I would change if I could restart this year I’d have to say one thing.. Pictures. Take more pictures. Even though the clock is working against you, you can still hoard your collection of images that can always bring you back to a time and place and even for just a moment everything can be alright. If you don’t have those pictures and videos that you always subtly wished you’d taken then you’re going to regret more than anything that you didn’t take more when the timer is running out. Even if you didn’t get along the greatest with the person who’s leaving.. Just, fuck, dude take the fucking picture. Make them smile a little. You should smile a little more. Capture those moments because they’re fleeting and you’ll need them. The only way you can fight that damn timer is if you steal moments from time that it can never wretch from your fingers.

Just.. I don’t know how to close this off, I’ve just been crying and I’m tired and I just wish I’d taken more pictures and I’d watched Hamilton with her like she wanted. I wish she’d taught me how to make cornbread the way she always made it and how to make turkey dumplings. I still wish she’d treated me better but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss her when she’s gone. At the beginning of 2020, I knew all we had was one year left and that she’d never see Christmas again. When I was told she was spiraling I still am trying to come home and I’m just.. I’m not there early enough and we’re out of time. My bank accounts nearly empty but I was set to come home in one week but she won’t make it till then and it hurts. And there’s nothing else I can do except come to peace with the fact it’s happening.

Idk who all read to the end but I hope you all are having a better holiday season. Please, please be careful out there in the pandemic as even just your contribution to stopping the spread can help open hospitals for families to see their loved ones before they go. And my biggest request is that you all start taking more pictures.

[waxandroses]

this coming yule

Summary: to love is a gamble, but to be loved back is a reward like no other.

Jade Leech x Reader

@cursedtwst hey 💕

Tick, tock, tick, tock, the grandfather clock in your room resounds, nothing but the light from a candle lamp illuminating your features. In your hands was a letter, brought by an owl not even an hour earlier, your bottom lip trembling as your eyes skimmed through each paragraph.

A loud, relieved exhale leaves you once you set down the paper in exchange for another one, familiar writing you felt you haven't seen in so long greeting you.

To my dearly beloved,

You began reading, taking the words to heart this time.

Outside the moon was full, bright and unhidden by the clouds. It was a welcome companion, one you've relied on since the day he left to join the military. Every night you gazed at the sky with your hands clasped together, never once failing to recite a silent prayer.

God, if you're listening…

Leaning back on your seat, tears threatening to fall from your eyes, you look out the window, clutching the letter carefully, close to your chest. A small breeze enters your room, signified with the way your curtains swayed, the cold wind making you shiver.

Winter was upon you, and as such the breeze has changed, calling for the holidays and the people's merry cheer. Outside the town was covered in lights of varying colors, and inside your dimly lit room you felt a little out of place.

Setting down the letter, you stand to close your windows, blowing out the flame from your candle as you arrive near your bed. You contemplate, for a moment, if it would do you good for one peaceful stroll near the manor, just a quick walk to set your mind at ease, but swats the thought away with the shake of your head as you begin preparing for bed.

That night, you dreamt of lanterns and a voice you yearned to hear up close.

Where you lived, a celebration was prepared for yearly, as thanks for the Gods gracious enough to gift the town with winter, a season of which has helped scare away stray monsters on numerous occasions. A tradition, if you will.

This year was no different, and as you woke up to the sound of birds flying off, your maids coming in and helping you prepare soon after, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Wondering, as you always did each year, if this time the Gods will be in your favor.

“My lady,” a hand on yours brings you back to reality, and you meet gazes with Cecilia, a maid of yours you've come to call a dear friend. She smiles gently, reassuringly, having been with you long enough to know what's been bothering you since the night the letter arrived.

“Surely, he will,” she spoke, as if sharing a secret. And you smile in turn, grateful for her presence. “He promised, after all.”

It takes you a moment to respond, your heart swelling with a want that has built up through the years, and you grip Cecilia's hand tight, tears threatening to fall.

“Thank you.”

Despite the cold, the town feels warm, the lights so bright and everyone looking so happy you felt bad for the hollow feeling in your chest. It was the season for celebrations, and yet here you stood, the one dark blot in a canvas of wonderful colors.

You remember a time when you indulged in the festivities, almost like a dream, when everything was still right and you had the warmth of love by your side.

Bubbly laughter filled your ears, prompting your smile to widen as you hid a small giggle behind your hands, cheeks turning warm despite the light snow that continued to fall.

Sneakily, you chanced a peek at your side, biting your bottom lip as his face came to view, features so serene and content. The moon could be viewed just a little ways behind him, the flames from the candle lamps coloring his face in a warm orange.

You looked to your side, your hair flowing with the sudden breeze, gaze landing on Cecilia, crouched down and handing the gathered children freshly baked cookies.

You felt as if you didn't belong, a foreign person in a land full of people in perfect harmony. It was as if…

As if without him, you were simply a broken puzzle piece, unable to fit in.

“My lady?” Cecilia puts one hand on your shoulder, the other holding a basket, barely any cookies left. There's something in her eyes, dark and full of sadness, as if sharing the pain you felt then.

“It's been three years,” you whisper, vision suddenly blurry, unable to focus on anything with the sudden buzz in your ears. You feel someone grip your hand—Cecilia, perhaps, but her words don't register, only able to make out a figure that wasn't there.

The sound of grooves on cobbled streets, the carriage's lamp illuminating the world outside. Pushing a curtain aside, he looks out just in time to see the first few snow fall from the sky.

With trembling hands, you accept the cup of hot cocoa gratefully, the warm liquid doing wonders accompanied with the blanket wrapped around you. Cecilia hovers near your bed, the worry in her face unmistakable. With a shuddering exhale, you pass the cup back to her.

“I'm sorry,” your voice cuts through the silence, the crackling of the fire a soothing background noise, one that helps you gather courage. “I don't know what came over me.”

Cecilia shook her head, offering what she could. A reassuring hand on your shoulder, a smile telling the same pain, you clinged to it like a lifeline.

You open your mouth to speak, only to close it tight when no words flowed out. You don't have much to say other than more apologies, the sinking feeling making you slump your shoulders, closing your eyes after a quick glance on the clock.

Just a few more minutes and Yule would arrive.

Something clicks, and then someone gasps—Cecilia, your mind barely registers—when you snap your eyes open upon hearing—

“[Y/N]-san.”

Jade.

Everything was a blur right after, there was the rustling of sheets, and at one point you felt your knees wobble, about to fall to the floor when—

Oh.

Oh.

Warm, familiar, secure, you couldn't pinpoint what it was you felt exactly, just that finally—finally, your tilted world has righted itself, in the arms of the person you love most.

“Jade, Jade, Jade,” you say his name, again and again, with quivering lips as you tightened your hold around him, feeling his arms pull you impossibly closer. Uttering his name, hearing his chuckle, a wave of relief hits you, not bothering to stop the tears, for all that he'd tease you about it later.

“I'm back, [Y/N]-san,” Jade whispers near your ear, and you cry harder, burying your face in his chest, inhaling his scent.

Jade is alive, and he's right here, with you, staying true to his promise, just as he always does.

“I'm home.”

Rest assured, love, that I'll be home this coming Yule, and will stay by your side for as long as you let me.

Sincerely,

Yours.

[weatheredleatherhat]

Hi! How’ve you been doing? Noticed you haven’t been active in a bit. How’s your health, have you been drinking enough water?

Well hi there!

Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you all, but thank you so much for taking the time to ask me. I really do appreciate it, and I have been checking in on this blog once in a while, just not posting.

I'm gonna take this opportunity to let y'all know what's happening, so I don't leave you in the dark. Basically, life has decided to kick me fair and square in the nads. My maternal grandparents (who I'm extremely close to) have both been ill, with my grandfather being very seriously ill and is still in the hospital. We don't know what'll happen there yet, but hopefully things change on that front.

Then my health took a bit of a nosedive. Basically, I have numerous health conditions that mean they cause me extreme pain and fatigue on any given day. Now my heart has decided it wants in on the action, and causes some real funky symptoms. Luckily I now have a new mobility aid; a powered wheelchair that I mentioned ages ago. And it's really helping! But basically, this blog is run by a chronically ill and disabled person, so please be aware that sometimes I just... Can't do things.

My mental health is still a bit fucky. I'm in this psychiatric unit which I go to three days a week for it, and it leaves me so drained when paired with the physical disabilities that it means my ass has made a nice divot in my bed for the past couple of years. It also means that my creativity just doesn't work, on account of my brain being like "holy shit! We need this person to survive, so send all the energy to the main bits that facilitates that! What's that, creativity? You need some resources too? Well TOO BAD." But yeah, long and short of it, I barely have enough brain power to make it through the day, let alone being able to sit down and write.

I've been thinking about it a while, and I might just let y'all know that I will be hopefully updating, but please bear with me that it'll come out slow as shit. I still have all your lovely requests, safe and sound in my inbox, but it might be that I start on my own projects first, just to get back into it. So if you sent me a request fuckin' ages ago, I'm so sorry! I will get around to it, I swear. But I need to get back into the swing of things before I do that. So I might start with some drabbles/headcanons/short pieces that really tickle my fancy first. I also have quite a few chapters of my own long ass fanfic that I wrote months ago focusing on Heisenberg with a freedom fighter, so if you wanna see that lemme know and I can get that on here to tide you over!! Also, I wanna write something for an s/o with mobility aids and how Heisenberg fuckin' adores them anyway, so that might be the first piece when I finally get the bottle for it and navigate my own internalised ableism. So yeah. Look out for that one!

Lastly, I just wanna thank my followers for being so kind, patient and gracious with me through it all. I still get notes on my pieces, and lemme tell you, that really perks me up. So yeah, you're all fuckin' awesome, and I love you. I'd smooch you all gently on the forehead if I could. I honestly couldn't do it without you.

So yeah. That's the current state of affairs. tl;dr: Hopefully content will slowly churn out, but health and life has been absolute shite. But I love you, and please be kind to yourself and one another.

All my love and adoration, Rusty~

p.s. I am really shit for drinking water, but I'm on a steady plan of diet coke, Pacific Punch Monster and golden tobacco juul pods. But I'll try, specifically for you <3