#IVE FALLEN AND I CANNOT GET UP
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hey, guys, you mind if i just-
Boy oh boy where do I even begin. Silver⊠honey, my pookie bear. I have loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you. The way you drive into the paint and strike fear into your enemies eyes. Your silky smooth touch around the rim, and that gorgeous jumpshot. I would do anything for you. I wish it were possible to freeze time so I would never have to watch you retire. You had a rough childhood, but you never gave up hope. You are even amazing off the court, you're a great husband and father, sometimes I even call you dad. I forvever dread and weep, thinking of the day you will one day retire. I would sacrifice my ownlife it were the only thing that could puta smile on your beautiful face.
You have given me so much joy, and heartbreak over the years. I remember when i was told you appeared until the Book 7 and its like my heart got broken into a million pieces. But a tear still fell frommy right eye when I watched you finally appear upon me, because deep down,my glorious king deserved it. I just wanted you to return home.
Then allas, you did, my sweet baby boy came home and I rejoiced. The starts of this month was a hard one for us baby, but today you made history happen. You came back to me and I couldn't believe it. I was crying, bawling even, and I heard my glorious king exclaim these words, "I'll put you to rest." Not only have you changed the story of Twisted Wonderland and the world forever, but you've eternally changed my world. And now you're getting older, but still the goat, my goat. I love you pookie bear, my glorious king, Silver.
#pluto ooc.#twst silver#twisted wonderland silver#twst spoilers#I JUST ABOUT FUCKING SCREAMED CRIED SHITTED PISSED AND COMBUSTED MYSELF#kicking my feet giggliing blushing going OOOOOHOHOHO#immmmm-#its the way i thought hed also smile for the groovy#but then silver said âno i will do you one betterâ#:skull emoji:#IVE FALLEN AND I CANNOT GET UP
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apparently now i can only write zouis
#i have two fics on the go#one for the fest and one ive been writing for a lil while#growing up unlikely friends who realise theyre asexual together and take years to realise theyre in love#and as with let me go i cannot stop writing#that fic took over my life last year and these are taking over my life this year so far#the fest is 90s au enemies to friends to lovers who skateboard and get high#and ive fallen in love with liam who is louis' bestie who hangs with him at the skate park but cant skate#he just goes to check out the guys support louis and roll him joints#actually liam in my asexual fic is also a cutie i have a theme
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àšà§ zayne's unusual method of coercing lulling your baby back to sleep
â§ïœ„ïŸpapa!zayne, husband!zayne, mom!reader, talks of medical research, babies, you both have a little girl named 'jasmine' (iykyk), mild spoilers for lads if you squint, pure fluff, spoilers for the good night video call with zayne, he calls you 'my aurora' (also iykyk)
â§ïœ„ïŸhelp me plz i have fallen for this man and i cant get up
night falls, bringing with it a peace no wish in the world could.
it's the type of peace which echoes gentle snowfall during the dawn; a hum of wintry wind on the back of weak sunlight.
for now, the household is quiet, everyone catching up on precious minutes of sleep.
or, as much as they could before your daughter's piercing wail shatters through the night.
"i'll go get her," the fatigue roughened voice of your husband, zayne, reassures you. his large palm reaches across the bed, clasping your own for a single second, a silent order for you to go back to sleep.
"zayne," you murmur, rubbing your eyes. "i'll go with youâ"
"you need rest," he cuts you off, though the look in his emerald gaze is eclipsed with a special softness reserved just for you. "i don't have any surgeries lined up tomorrow until after lunch. i'll do it."
stoic yet kind, your husband volunteers to take up the mantle; hurrying towards the nursery to tend to your fussy baby.
you sink back into the soft sheets, exhaling in exhaustion. it must've been hours or minutes, your consciousness dipping in and out of the pool of wakefulness.
when you turn to the side, zayne still wasn't back. curiosity propelled you to sit up, stuffing your feet into a pair of blue, fuzzy slippers. you tightened your robe around your shivering body, shuffling down the hall towards the nursery.
"... common treatment is a myectomy of the hypertrophic IVS. however, surgical treatment of midventricular is usually challenging. the hypertrophic area cannot be reached via a transaortic approach. for that reason, a transapical ventriculostomy has been described as preferred access for surgical correction..."
zayne's voice piques your interest. as you turn around the corner, you nearly burst out into a fit of giggles.
your husband, baby in one arm and large research book on his knee, was trying to read a "bedtime" story to your sweet jasmine.
"âin some cases of diffuse myectomy has been performed via trans-mitral septal myectomy with a video-assisted minimal invasive 2D techniqueâoh, look, it's your mama."
he moves your little girl to the other arm, her shimmering emerald eyes clasped on the hook of his nose. she bubbles and squeals, trying to swipe at his chinâdefinitely not drowsy or ready to fall back to sleep.
"come on now," zayne remains stern with her. "it's time for you to sleep. you've been keeping me up for almost an hour."
as much as your husband's antics were drawing your mirth, you could sense the despair in his tone wasn't fabricated.
"perhaps you're reading her the wrong bedtime story." you tease, walking into the room. you take jasmine from her papa's arms, cradling her close to your chest.
your daughter fusses, gummy mouth gaping and closing, cooing her agreement.
"the resection of hypertrophic papillary muscles and mitral valve replacement is a good bedtime story," he quips. snapping the heavy research book close, he sets it down to the floor. "she's just being like her mama, that's all."
fighting back the urge to smirk, you shake your head. "at least you've never given her a lecture on fusion guidance."
his brow crinkles, and eventually, a small smile decorates his lips. "you remember?"
zayne's voice is unexpectedly soft, and you nod; delighting in sharing this memory with your husband.
"how could i forget? it's my go-to bedtime request from you."
he stands, coming behind you and jasmine. a long, calloused finger traces down her chubby cheek. one arm around your waist, the other supporting your own arm under your baby.
"if only i could know what hers is," zayne sighs. "then, you wouldn't have to check up on us."
"i want to," you interject, nudging your face back to give his cheek a soft kiss. "i love seeing you with her."
"hmm."
your husband goes quiet for a few more moments. you almost fall asleep standing up, the warmth of his broad back emanating through your thin cotton nightdress; lulling you into comfort. jasmine, soothed by your steady breathing, droops off; her shell pink lips puckered like a bud about to bloom.
"she's finally asleep."
"your heartbeat," zayne says, barely above a whisper. his warm breath touches your neck, making gooseflesh rise on your arms. "she's soothed by it."
you touch your gaze to her puffy cheeks; the thin wisps of dark hair on her head she inherited from the one man you adored with every beat of your heart.
"i'm glad you saved me," you whisper, remembering the day when zayne performed the life-changing operation on you; finally stabilising your condition after years of distress and anxiety.
"i owe my heart to you."
"keep it," your husband is quick to dismiss his role in saving you; a man of little words with the biggest impact.
"but, take mine if you need it. my heart is all yours, my aurora."
sobs iykyk the spoilers for mr. love: queen's choice (lads predecessor) you'd know that zayne's heaâ[gunshot]
Â©ïž all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.
#love and deepspace#zayne x reader#zayne love and deepspace#zayne fluff#zayne x y/n#zayne x you#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace fluff#𩱠writes
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âI had the best day with you todayâ
Based on: âI was enchanted to meet youâ
Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader
SMAU
Could be read as a stand alone, very short
After dedicating Enchanted to their relationship, who wouldâve thought Kimi and Y/n would get to see it live
yn_norris
Liked by carmenmmundt, user71, landonorris, and 917,828 others
yn_norris: âI cry a lot but I am so productiveâ
tagged: no one
Kimi.antonelli itâs genuinely concerning watching you stress over bracelets and a bodysuit
oscarpiastri im right there with you mate
Yn_norris eras tour prep is not for the weekâŒïž
lilyzniemer especially when youâre making your own stuff
user1 the nods to Midnights/Vigilante shit đ§ Ms. Norris I think I know your outfit
Carmenmmundt Iâm so excited!!
lilymhe weâre gonna have a blast in T-3 days!!
alexandrasaintmleux were all packed up and ready đ«¶đ«¶
user2 all the wags are gonna show up and slay while the men will prod wear some boring ass clothes
yn_norris you best believe Kimiâs gonna slay, I made him a fit so he canât embarrass me
user2 lmao Y/n
user3 this is so aesthetic i could cry
load more
Kimi.antonelli posted 2 stories!
Captions: 1) ive been roped into bracelet making 2) did I do good?
Replies:
yn_norris
you did so good
Whoever you trade that to will be so lucky
I need to do more
get to it then
Oscarpiastri
Lily hasnât gotten to me yet
If she does idk what Iâll even make
Best of luck avoiding it solider
Olliebearman
I wanna join
Donât worry sheâs bringing the materials with us so you can make some at the hotel
yn_norris posted a story!
Caption: Iâve arrived đ«¶âšđȘ©
Kimi.antonelli
liked by user1, taylorswift, Olliebearman, and 817,828 others
Kimi.antonelli: âI was enchanted to meet youâ đ
tagged: yn_norris, Taylorswift
yn_norris I love you đđ«¶
Kimi.antonelli I love you too đđ«¶
user1 THEY WERE AT MY SHOW
user2 ugh i need a concert bf
carlossainz55 @/landonorris after tonight I cannot do the overprotective uncle role anymore, theyâre too cute
landonorris MATE WHAT
Kimi.antonelli finally a win
carlossainz55 but hurt her even a littleâŠ
Kimi.antonelli I understand
Taylorswift THE Enchanted couple
Kimi.antonelli what a compliment
yn_norris Iâve fallen to the floor and started violently sobbing
Landonorris L
user3 did you trade your bracelet??
user4 the fact that this whole post is centered around Y/n đ„čđ„°
user5 drivers (+ their so) really brought the best energy
User6 do you think Travis felt more at ease bc he wasnât surrounded by other celebrities but rather other male athletes?
user7 I wanna know if him and Logan talked American football
Load more
Yn_norris
Liked by taylorswift, Lilymhe, landonorris, and 182,928 others
Yn_norris: âI had the best day with you todayâ đ
tagged: Kimi.antonelli, lilyzniemer, carmenmmundt, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux
Kimi.antonelli you looked so beautiful in the concert lights đ
yn_norris ditto đ
user2 LMAO THEIR OUTFITS
user1 the fact Kimi and Y/n matched the hearts to the lyrics album for both posts makes me sick
lilymhe it was so fun!!
carmenmmdunt gorgeous
lilyzniemer you win best couple costume!!
landonorris after seeing Vigilante Shit I have decided that your outfits are way to inappropriate and therefore I hate them
yn_norris too late đ
taylorswift best outfits! Best energy! Best fan! Y/n I love you đ«¶đȘ©
yn_norris youâre the best everything!! I love you too đ«¶đȘ©
yn_norris HOLY SHIT SHE FOLLOWED ME AHHHHHHH
user3 sheâs just like me fr
ussr4 her bracelet collection đđ
user5 people have said she wore them the whole time
Yn_norris well what was I supposed to do? Not show off all of my new besties and their hard work??
load more
#f1#f1 imagines#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 smau#f2#formula 2#formula 2 x reader#formula 2 imagine#kimi antonelli imagine#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli smau
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bad luck - nikolai lantsov
summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.
a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy
wc: 5.3k
warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending
At first, youâd thought you were hallucinating.Â
You couldnât remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldnât have exactly surprised you.Â
Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. Youâd imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasnât a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you werenât in chains, and reveled in the sound.Â
And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you.Â
Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking manâthough he hardly appeared old enough to be called a manâa pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didnât belong in a dingy place such as this.Â
âHello, all,â he said pleasantly. âI am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.â
Your grip slackened. âWhat?â
Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. Sheâd chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent.Â
You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought youâd imagined it when he looked away.Â
âI have no desire to keep you all here against your will,â he said. âCall me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slaversâit doesnât matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.â
âAre we free?â you asked.
Again, the captainâs expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at youâthis time, you knew you hadnât imagined it.Â
âYes,â he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. âYouâre free.â
You couldnât help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.
The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. âNow, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we canât find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.â
Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. âTamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. Iâd like to make a speech.â
She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. Youâd been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldnât shed any tears for them, but you werenât accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from.Â
âIâd like to introduce myself to you all.â You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line youâd all formed. The Shu woman from beforeâTamar, he called herâstood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they wereâat least for nowâon your side.Â
âYou can call me Sturmhond,â he said. âPerhaps youâve heard of me, perhaps you havenât. I donât particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.âÂ
The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you werenât wholly naive.Â
âBut I want to be clear,â the captain said, âthis is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.âÂ
Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the othersâshe removed everyoneâs shackles at once.Â
Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little PalaceâSaints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkanâbut there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized.Â
âWe didnât really need the keys,â Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he lookedâhe should have been in university, not heading operations like this. âI just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamarâs axes are quite terrifying.âÂ
âWho says we want any part of your opportunities?â asked a man from down the line.Â
âBecause Iâm allowing you the choice,â the captain said. âThose of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.â
There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again.Â
Your throat tightened. You ran from themâthat was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again.Â
And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct.Â
âAs for those of you who want revenge,â he tilted his head, âyou can earn a place in my crew.âÂ
âWhy would we work for you?â a woman from across the brig shouted. âWeâve got our freedom!âÂ
âBecause there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,â Sturmhond said. âAnd because the sea is rather lovely when youâre not a captive.âÂ
âThat is my opportunity to you all.â He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. âA chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.âÂ
âWhy would we want to work with pirates?â you spoke up. âWe have lives to get back to. And half of us arenât fighters.âÂ
You didnât know what it was about you that made Sturmhondâs expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you.Â
âPrivateer, actually,â he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. âAs I said, itâs your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.âÂ
You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. Youâd dealt with too many men like him, but it wasnât a botherâin three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck.Â
âNow,â the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, âany questions?â
Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didnât know, but you didnât feel like getting on the captainâs bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem.Â
âWonderful. Weâll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,â he said. âAny of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.â His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. âI doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.â
âSome of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,â Sturmhond continued. âIf you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.â He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that.Â
âI suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.â Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. âI hope youâve all earned your sea legs.â
He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They mustâve been his first matesâyou were immensely glad they werenât against you, what with his size and her axes. Â
But as he did, you couldnât help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just⊠unnatural. Unsettling.
You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didnât care if he was unnatural or unsettlingâyou would be gone in three days.Â
All you had to do was keep your head down.Â
-
Sleep wasnât easy after the day youâd had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot youâd been assigned wasnât much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress youâd ever felt after what youâd been sleeping on before.
You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.
You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â you whispered.
âSturmhond wishes to speak to you,â Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did.Â
âWhy?âÂ
âMy job isnât to ask questions,â Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasnât familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captainâs quarters for you.Â
She didnât follow you in, and you didnât know whether it was a relief or not.Â
âAh. Youâre here.â Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. âDrink?âÂ
âYou didnât just invite me here for a nightcap,â you said placidly, âdid you?âÂ
âOf course not,â he said. âI thought it would remind you of home.âÂ
You frowned. âYouâre Ravkan. Whoâs to say I am too?âÂ
âHow did you know I was Ravkan?âÂ
âYour accent.âÂ
âThen how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?âÂ
âMaybe I will need a drink,â you said bitterly. âItâs the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.âÂ
Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. âSuch harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaverâs ship.âÂ
âWhoâs to say Iâm the daughter of a duke?â you asked.Â
He arched an eyebrow. âDo you really want to keep playing this game?âÂ
You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle.Â
âAn accent gives quite a bit away,â Sturmhond said. âItâs also obvious to anyone that looks at youâand I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,â he looked you up and down, âyou carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.âÂ
Your lip curled. âHow astute of you.âÂ
âThank you,â he said with a smile.Â
âBorn and raised in Os Alta,â you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. âAnd I suppose youâre correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.â
âYou wound me,â he said, pressing a hand to his chest. âAre you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?â
âI thought you said this wasnât a rescue, captain.â
âSturmhond,â he said.
Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. âI thought you said this wasnât a rescue, Sturmhond.â
âIt isnât,â he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, âitâs an opportunity. Iâm just curious of what drove your choice.âÂ
You crossed your arms. âStrange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.âÂ
âPrivateer,â Sturmhond corrected, âand youâre no longer a prisoner.â
âMy point still stands,â you said wryly.Â
âIs it wrong of me to be curious?â he asked.Â
âItâs pointless,â you said. âAnd if youâre done with your little interrogation, Iâd like to get back to sleep.âÂ
âIâm not here to be your enemy.â He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. âSurely you understand that.â
âI understand it perfectly well,â you said. âI just donât see why you care.â
âFine,â he amended, âIâll let you be. Just one more question.â Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. âWhy did you run?âÂ
You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. âExcuse me?âÂ
He didnât waver. âI thought my question was quite clear.â Â
You picked up the cup heâd poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throatâyour tolerance never was all thatâbut it didnât make much difference with the scowl already on your face.Â
âYou donât get to ask me questions, pirate.âÂ
âPrivateer,â you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out.Â
-
Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda.Â
He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks.Â
âSeriously?â you asked. âDid he not get my message clearly enough last night?â
She shrugged. âHe just asked to see you again. I donât know why.â
You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. âFine. Letâs go.â
You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.
âWhat are you playing at?â you demanded.Â
âGood evening to you as well,â he said. âHow did you sleep?â
âWhat are you playing at,â you repeated flatly.Â
âIâm not playing at anything,â he said. âIs it a crime to enjoy your company?âÂ
Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. âIf youâre after what Iââ
âIâm not after anything,â he assured with a frown, âand certainly not what youâre thinking.â
His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.
ââŠGood,â you said after a moment. âBut I still donât understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.â
âBecause I know you,â he said. âYou may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.â
âWhat,â you said wryly, âdo you want my advice on how best to rob them?â
âOf course not,â Sturmhond said. âI wouldnât need your advice for that.â
You huffed a laugh. âSo what do you want?â
âIâve been at sea for quite some time,â he said, âand youâve only just left Ravka. Iâd very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.â
âYou assume I have any.â
âI assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsovâs betrothed would have some,â Sturmhond replied smoothly.
Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression.Â
He arched an eyebrow. âWell?â
You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.
âFine,â you said. âYouâve got me. Iâm the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?â
âNot at all.â Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glassâbrandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. âI want your knowledge.âÂ
âMy being betrothed to Nikolai is why I donât know as much as you think,â you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. âNikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.â
âDisappeared?â
You nodded. âHe was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,â your lips curled in a disdainful smile, âhe up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I havenât heard a word from Nikolai since.â
Sturmhond frowned. âMy deepest apologies.â
You shrugged. âHe made his choice. Apparently heâs in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope heâs still alive.â You huffed a laugh. âI cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.â
âIâm sure he is still alive,â Sturmhond said. âAnd Iâm sure he hasnât forgotten you.â
âHow kind of you,â you said dryly.
He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. âYou say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?â
âI donât know,â you admitted. âBut I ran from my family and my fate, and thatâs why I ended up here. I donât think I can go back just yet.â
âAnd what fate did you run from?â Sturmhond asked.
âA marriage I didnât want,â you said plainly.
âAs opposed to the marriage you did want.â
âAre we done here?â you asked. âBecause I donât think you need to know more of my personal life.â
Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. âYes. But Iâd like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.â
âYouâre not going to change my mind,â you said.
âAnd I donât intend to. Thereâs just one last thing I wish to share with you.â
âAnd you canât do that now?â you asked wryly.
âPatience is a virtue, darling.â
âDonât call me that.â
He held up his hands. âEnjoy the rest of your night.â
âYouâre very strange for a pirate,â you said.
âIâm quite normal for a privateer,â Sturmhond said.
You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. âEnjoy the rest of your night, privateer.â
You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldnât shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door.Â
âHow long have you been part of his crew?â
âA few years,â she said.
âDo you ever get used to him?â
Her lips quirked into a smile. âNo.â
You sighed as the two of you started to walk. âWhat a surprise.â
-
You were at Sturmhondâs door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadnât come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly werenât going to refuse her.
As usual, you didnât bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly.Â
âYou actually came,â he said.
âConsider me intrigued,â you said. âI couldnât just walk off and never know what you wanted to âshare with meâ.âÂ
The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. âYouâre just as fiery as I remember.â
âWe just met,â you said dryly.
âOn the contrary.â Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. âYou spent the other day describing our lost time together.â
âIâmâŠâ you blinked and shook your head. âI donât understand.â
âIâm Nikolai Lantsov,â he said. âIâd appreciate it if you didnât make me say all my titles, though.âÂ
For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief.Â
âIs that what this is? You consider me a fool?â
âOn the contrary,â he repeated. âIt is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.â He offered a wry smile. âAnd because you donât hate me the way you should.â
âYou cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,â you said. âAnyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?â
âIt sounds absurd when you put it like that,â Sturmhond said with a frown.Â
âBecause it is absurd,â you enunciated. âI actually thank you for this, because now I know Iâm making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.âÂ
You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. âPlease move. Iâd like to leave.âÂ
âHe speaks the truth,â Tamar said. âI promise you. Heâs Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. âÂ
You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. âWhat?âÂ
âNikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,â he said. âNo one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.âÂ
âThen change him back,â you said, looking back at Tamar. âGet your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.âÂ
âThey are not lies,â she insisted. âAnd Iâm not the best tailor.âÂ
âYouâre both Grisha,â you said flatly.Â
âHeartrenders,â Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. âMy most trusted crew. Come on, Tamarâ I believe in you. Work your magic.âÂ
She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit youâd been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didnât take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose.Â
He⊠he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from himâor at least a mirror image of himâafter so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didnât have him anymore.Â
âThat doesnât mean much,â you finally said, glancing away. âIf you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.âÂ
âYou overestimate my tailoring abilities,â Tamar said dryly.Â
âI still donât trust it,â you said, and you started again for the door.Â
âWhen we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,â he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. âYou scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the watersâyou still have the scar on your ankle.â
You turned around. âHow do you know that?âÂ
âMy father held a party and your family attended,â he continued. âWe were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parentsâ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.â He smiled. âI donât think Iâve ever had so many pastries in my life.âÂ
A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadnât thought of that party in years.Â
âAnd when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.â He chuckled and shook his head. âI took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress youâI only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.âÂ
âI canât believe you remember that,â you murmured.Â
âAndâŠâ he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. âI still have this.âÂ
Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light.Â
Your engagement rings still matched perfectly.Â
Nikolaiâs smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. âAnd you still have yours.âÂ
âOf course I do,â you said. âIt was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.âÂ
âIâm glad you went through it, then.â
âIt really is you,â you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. âIâ I just donât understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?âÂ
âPrivateer,â he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. âCould you give us a moment alone?âÂ
She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past.Â
âI do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second sonâa bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.âÂ
âI appreciated Prince Nikolai,â you said. âI appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.âÂ
âI know,â Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. âIf there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because itâs trueâI have not forgotten you. I never did.âÂ
âThen why go through all of this with me?â you asked. âWhy annoy me into spending time with you?âÂ
âBecause Iâve always been quite good at annoying you,â Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. âAnd because⊠I didnât know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was trueâI did leave you, and I havenât said a word to you since. I wouldnât be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didnât want to force myself back into your life.â He managed another small smile. âFortunately for me, you did not hate me.âÂ
âI could never hate you, Nikolai,â you murmured. âIâ I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.âÂ
âEven more fortunate for me,â he said softly.Â
âSo why didnât you come back?â you asked.Â
âIâŠâ he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. âYou talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didnât want to force you into a life with me. If I had known youââ he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lipsâ âif I had known you loved me, I donïżœïżœt know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.âÂ
âYou are the reason I was here,â you said. âMy parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in youâa marriage my parents wanted couldnât have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.âÂ
âA marriage you didnât want,â he echoed, his eyes soft.Â
You nodded. âThey did all the work behind the scenesâI was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch bankerâs son. And I just⊠couldnât face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the worldââ you gestured lazilyâ âI ended up here.â
âThen I suppose itâs only fair that I ended up rescuing you,â Nikolai said.Â
âI thought this wasnât a rescue,â you said wryly.Â
He chuckled and shook his head. âNo. Itâs still an opportunityâ one I think youâll like much more.âÂ
You arched an eyebrow. âOh?âÂ
âI plan to go back and take the throne someday,â Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. âBut I donât want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,â he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something youâd sorely missed, âwill you do me the honor of sailing by my side?âÂ
âIâm not a sailor,â you said with a breathy laugh.Â
âI can teach you,â he said eagerly. âI can teach you everything I know until youâre a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything Iâve missed while being at seaâall the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.âÂ
Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more.Â
âHow can I refuse?âÂ
Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasnât the first one youâd shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something newâthe promise that he wouldnât let you go like he did before.Â
You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time.Â
Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once.Â
âAnd if it wasnât clear,â Nikolai murmured between kisses, âI never stopped loving you for one moment.âÂ
You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. âYou wear too many clothes.âÂ
âThen fix it.â His voice was sultry in your ear and you didnât know how you went seven years without him.Â
You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave.Â
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov angst#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone fic#grishaverse x reader#sadie writes
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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Chapter Four: [Parental Guidance]
Summary: Jakes Mother simply cannot understand what he saw in you, your mother simply cannot comprehend why you left Jake.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.
Word Count: 4:1k
Author Note: MothersâŠEspecially boy mothers can just be the worst when theyâre in LOVE with their sons.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
November 1stÂ
Bradley Bradshaw never thought he would be the person Jake Seresin called when he was in a situation and needed help, but here he was. Sitting in his Bronco outside the house of a woman he didn't know in the early hours of the morning watching Jake stumble down the small overgrown cobblestone path. The Halloween costume Rooster had seen Jake in early that night was long forgotten as the fighter pilot wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs with his wallet and keys in the palms of his hands.Â
Immediately as soon as Jake sat in the passenger's seat of Bradleys pride and joy, he could smell the liquor trying to expel itself from Jake pores.Â
âYou smell like a distillery and we have a HOP at 8am.â There was a very evident disdain for Jake's current state in Roosters' tone, Jake wasnât drunk enough to miss that. âWhy are you calling me in the middle of the night to pick you up anyway? What did you do this time to warrant getting kicked out?â Jake didn't respond right away as he kept his eyes staring blankly out the window, the two had only just recently been given new orders to remain in North Island permanently. But when he did speak up, Bradley's heart ached.Â
âI accidentally said my wifes name while uhâyeah.â Jake didn't think he needed to explicitly tell his wingman that, during one of the first and what Jake would consider the last one night stand heâd engaged in during your separation, heâd called out your name. âVanessa didn't really like that.âÂ
âYeah, no shit.â Bradley agreed as he drove down the street. âThat's rough dude.â Bradley knew of yours and Jake's separation, Jake had told him one night at the Hard Deck after heâd asked how the family was. The two hadnât always been on good terms but Rooster liked to think you and him were close enough to send Christmas cards to. When Jake had told him youâd left? Bradley didnât reach outâhe assumed it was for the best all things considered.Â
âYeahâbut you know whatâs rougher?â Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the headrest.Â
âWhatâs that?âÂ
âKnowing your wife wonât ever believe youâll change.â Bradley knew without even looking at Jake that between the mix of alcohol and his desire to win you back that the naval aviator sitting with slumped shoulders beside him was holding back tears. âAnd proving her right by sleeping with some badge bunny who looked an awful lot like her.âÂ
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Your home had never been so quiet with all three of your children gone. You stood in the foyer of the entryway just looking around at the mess that had been left behind. Forgotten toys yet to be put away, discarded shoes, dirty plates and cups. Pine needles that fallen from the faux Christmas tree that was essentially hanging on by its last thread. The reminisce of three young children that were allowed to be children inside the safety of their own home.Â
As you wiped away the tears that you had let fall freely down from your puffy eyes, you made an effort to tidy up the house youâd be leaving in only a few short hours to leave for the hospital stay you had planned. Tiny shoes with no feet to fill, toys left unattended over the holidays simply to be replaced by newer shiner ones.Â
Between now and new years while Jake had the kids in Texas your treatment plan would increase tenfold. You were scheduled for aggressive rounds of IV chemotherapy that you knew youâd have to stay in hospital for to go through, your body was barely tolerating the oral medication as it was. You were scheduled for a double mastectomy in your time at the hospital which would hopefully stop any cancerous cells from spreading to more lymph nodes and areas of your body that remained untouched. Did you have high hopes? Not particularly. But you were ready and willing to do just about anything the oncologist assigned to your particular case had recommended.Â
It was going to be a rough stint, but hopefully by the time Jake returned with your children, youâd still be able to mask your diagnosis. How you were going to explain the symptoms like hair loss and suddenly having no breast tissue to Jake was something you had yet to come up with.Â
But âNew year, New meâ was looking like the best possible explanation. Maybe the new look would get him off your case a little when it came to working on your marital issues.Â
As you put things back in their rightful places and tidy up, you felt your phone ringing in your back pocket. The call ID immediately made you want to cry even more than you already had been.Â
âHi mumââ You cooed softly as you stood alone in your empty home. âI uh, I just got home.âÂ
âHow was Jake?â Your mother asked as she drove over to yours, you could hear the difference in her voice because of the shitty ass bluetooth system she barely knew how to work properly. âDid the kids kick up a fuss?âÂ
âJake wasââ You would never be able to find the right words to describe your husband, well, ex-husband. âJake was Jake mum you know how we are right now.â Your mother knew about your diagnosis. She had been the one who urged you to see a doctor after you told her you had found a rather large lump on your left breast. âAnd no, actually the kids were super excited to go with their dad for the holidays, I think they still don't really understand that I'm not gonna be there at all, maybe they just think I won't be there for a day or two, but uhâyeah, they were good.âÂ
âAnd how are you feeling?â It was surprisingly a rather hard question to answer as you sat down on the lounge. For the longest time you had always put your family first, made sure all their needs were met before your own. From your kids to your husband they always came first, but now? Now you had to focus on your health and put yourself first if you had any chance of getting through the next few weeks.Â
âI threw up this morningââ It was your way of saying you werent travelling well at all. âAfter I slept with Jakeââ You knew your mum would be shocked at your admission, so you closed your eyes and braced for it. The scolding, the ânever sleep with an ex speechâ But it never came. All that came was a sigh you couldn't tell was laced in disappointment or approval.Â
âYou need that man in your life darling, he's a good man, the two of you just need to work on your differences.â Your mother had always had a soft spot for Jake Seresin, for a few weeks after your initial breakup he stayed in her spare room. Jake loved your mother like his own and you knew that if you ever gave her a moment on the soap box, your mum would scream it to whoever would listen just how much you and Jake were made for one another.Â
Which in your opinion was a little shitty. Jake had his own mum. You needed yours.Â
âI know he's a good man mum, that's why I married him to begin with.â You sighed heavily as you laid on the lounge to ward off the dizzy spell that was threatening to throw you off balance. âBut I haven't been his priority in a hell of a long time, and I owe it to myself to not go back to being a married single mother.âÂ
âOkay okay, wellââ You knew your mum was only trying to help but it felt like the two of you had this very same conversation every time you spoke, it was like deja vu. âHe won't wait around forever darling.â That fact you also knew, according to Jake himself her name was Violet or Vivian or Vanessa. Something that started with a V. Either way you knew very well that Jake wouldnât wait around for you to take him back on his hands and knees begging.Â
But at the end of the day you werenât sure if you even wanted him to wait for you. Of course you loved Jake, with your whole heart. But right now nothing made sense to you, you were dying after all.Â
âTrust me,â You rolled your eyes thinking about how Vanessa or Vicky or Veronica looked. If she looked anything like you or maybe completely different. If she had blue eyes you'd surmise that he probilby date her. âI know he won't, but he's not the priority right now, my health is.âÂ
âI'll be there in about an hour or two depending on traffic.â For a split second you wished it might take a little longer. Although you loved your mum dearly and appreciated everything she ever did for you, her favouritism towards your husband made your blood boil.Â
âOkay, I might have a bit of a nap while I'm waiting for you, I'm feeling pretty shattered.â No word of a lie was spoken, you were exhausted to say the very least. Finally being alone and not having to be in constant caregiver mode for three young children truly had your body calling it quits. You needed sleep and so much of it.Â
âI'll see you soon alright?â You mum spoke through the bluetooth that crackled and broke with the failing reception, but you heard her just barely.Â
âAlright, bye mum.â You paused hesitantly as you let your eyes close âI love you.â It had been a while since you told anyone you loved them besides your kids, and for a second you wished it was Jake on the other end of the line. You did love him, probably more now than you ever had. Everything was just so messy, it wasn't fair. None of this was fair.Â
âBye Darling.â Your mum replied. âI love you too.âÂ
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
âMy babies!!â Janeen Seresin was in Jake's opinion, one of those women who never should have had kids, let alone four of them. Jake was the youngest of four Seresin children and the only boy. His father, Rodney, was a hard task master who no matter what Jake accomplished in his career or personal life, never seemed to be proud of the man he had become.Â
âHi Ma.â There was a pretty simple explanation for that, Jake never took a beating without getting a few punches in himself. He wasn't the kind of guy who you could beat into submission even as a teen. âMerry Christmas.âÂ
âJacob oh my boy it's so good to see you.â Janeen took her youngest child in her arms in the threshold of the Sersein estate. Lavish gardens surrounded the old exposed red brick home that had been in the Seresin family for generations. Jake knew when his parents died it wasn't going to him, but to his eldest sister Julies. âCome in come in! You guys must be so tired after your flight.âÂ
Jake, despite being a fighter pilot who had flown some of the most suicidal missions, was a nervous flyer when he wasnât in total control. Commercial flying wasn't something he typically enjoyed. It made him anxious at the best of times and whenever he added his children to the mix he was sure that the way his heart pounded inside his chest during takeoff was early signs of an underlying genetic heart condition he probably inherited from his father.Â
âThe kids are definitely a little tired, I think Sam's ears haven't really pooped either.â Jake cooed as he and his kids entered the house Jake grew up in, the overly eccentric, far too big, the annoyingly in your face house he knew you always hated. It always seemed to exemplify the two worlds you and Jake grew up in as children.Â
âGrandma!â Lucy interrupted. âMum said that Santa will know exactly where we are if we put out cookies and milk for him and carrots for his reindeer like we do at home.â Janeen chuckled at her granddaughter as Jake placed Sam on the ground to walk off with his brother to explore the mansion style home that was far bigger than the one they were used to.Â
âYour mother would still have you doing those silly little things wouldn't she?â Jake bit his tongue as he watched his mother soothe a hand over his daughter's head. âOf course we can put out cookies and milk, but if I get ants you better be ready to clean them up little miss.â Lucy simply smiled and nodded in response, the dig had gone right over her six year old head.Â
âGod Ma you'd think you never had kids of your own before.â Jake argued in an attempt to remind his mum that his kids were only young. The magic of Christmas was important to you and him. âI'm sure Santa won't leave cookie crumbs all over the house.â Â
âSanta isn't who Iâm worried about making a messââ Janeen tried to say the loud things quiet while around Jake's children, but the intent in her words was still as loud and as obnoxious as ever. âHow is your mother Lulu? Iâm sorry she wonât be joining us for Christmas and new years.âÂ
âSheâs been sick the past few weeks.â Jake frowned at his mothers smile, she left little to the imagination about her opinion of you. âBut sheâs better now.â Jake wasn't so sure of the statement his daughter made, the way you were only on your knees this morning throwing up into the toilet bowl made him frown in response. Jake had this gut feeling he couldnât get rid of it no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. Was something wrong with you? Like, more than just a long winded flu? Who even gets the flu for three weeks these days?Â
âOh Iâm sure she is dear, right before her big trip away hey?â Ever since you and Jake separated, Janeen Seresin had been pushing for Jake to file for divorce and full custody. No one got to leave her perfect angel boy. In her eyes Jake could do no wrong, he was her angel, her precious baby boy that no woman could ever be good enough for.Â
âYeah! Sheâs going to the snow with a bunch of her friends Grandma.â Lucy replied, she didnât understand her grandmotherâs resentments just yet. That or it went right over the little girl's head, either way Jake was thankful for her innocence.Â
âOh I know your dads told me all about your mothers grand plans.â Janeen rolled her eyes pretty heavily at the idea you were off whoring yourself out on a ski trip out of the country while her son was tasked with looking after the three children you had with him.Â
âMa, drop it will you?â Jake urged. âSheâs allowed to go away for the holidays, sheâs pretty much had the kids all year.â
âAnd why is that?â Janeen retaliated as little Lucy walked off to find her brothers. Jake followed his mother into the dining room where festive decorations dressed the dining table. Perfectly set and prepared. A stark contrast to your old chipped four seater dining table that had soggy cheerios spilled on the top just this morning. Jake much preferred the cheerio-covered table to his mothers perfectly decorated one.Â
Fuck, Jake thought to himself the more he looked around. His kids were about to mess this place up. He knew deep down that would bring you a little solace. You knew Janeen was sour on you. The idea of the kids making her life just a little more chaotic would normally make you chuckle.
âBecause I live and work in North Island now, I donât have the proper work schedule to take three kids on by myself.â That was the appropriate and only answer, but Jake knew his mother saw it differently. âI don't have to means to look after them myselfâY/n does, we both agreed on that when he split.âÂ
âSheâs keeping those kids away from you sweetheart.â Jake couldnât have rolled his eyes harder if he tried, heâd been home for all of what? five minutes and already his mum was disrespecting you. âYou donât see those kids nearly as much as you should and itâs herââ
âDonât you think thatâs more on me then it is on her?â Jake argued back. âCome on ma you know exactly why we separated, I wasnât putting in what she was giving and it damn near killed her. The last thing she needs is a custody battle.âÂ
âWhat you ever saw in that woman Iâll never understand sweetheart.â Janeen cooed as she reached up to touch her son's cheek. âI always knew she was never good enough for my baby boy.âÂ
Jake wanted to argue, he really did, but it was Christmas and his entire family would soon be filling the Seresin estate. So Jake pressed his lips together and leaned in to press a kiss to the top of his mothers head. He didnât want to ruin yet another family holiday. He didnât want to be dubbed the family disappointment because of his separation. Although he knew that's exactly what he was.Â
He just wanted to be loved. And at this point Jake was gonna take that love whenever the hell he could get it from.Â
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
âY/nââ At first you didn't respond, but as your mother shook you as you slept on the lounge and called your name a few more times, you finally woke up. âY/n, babe jesus have you been asleep since we got off the phone.?â It took you a moment to come back into your body as you wiped the dry drool that had leaked from your mouth onto your cheek. The discombobulation was clearly evident to your mother as she stepped back a little to give you some space.Â
âYeah, I guess so.â You mumbled as you sat up. âI'm just reallyââ The all too familiar feeling of bile rising came hard and came quickly. âOh god mum, get me a bucket!â The look of panic written in the tired lines on your face was enough for your mum to realise what was going on.Â
âOh shit hang on.â Your mother hurried into the laundry nearby and searched high and low for something you could use, but you decided soon thereafter that it was quicker if you booked it into the kitchen and puke right into the kitchen sink. âY/n! Oh god are you alright darling?âÂ
For a single mother of two children, yourself and your older brother Carson, your mother did alright for the hand she was dealt. On the younger side, your mother always seemed a little âChildishâ in her nature and mannerisms. But she was your mum and you wouldnât change her for anything.Â
âI'm fineâI justââ You couldn't keep anything down to save your life right now, so when your body wanted to expel any form of bile it was just stomach acid and remnants of whatever you had most recently eaten. Your mother did her best to comfort you as you coughed and splatted your gagged in the kitchen sink for dear life, she could tell your body was weaker than it ever had been just from the way you trembled under her touch.Â
It broke her heart to see you like this, so sick and fragile. You did well to hide it though, for what it was worth she thought you looked relatively healthy still. But it was still early on in your journey.Â
âI'm so scared mum.â You cried out through gags as you stayed bent over the sink coughing and crying. This wasnât fair, you had a family to think of, kids to watch grow, a husband to hopefully fall in love with all over again. How could whatever god was up there do this to you? Why did this happen? Why you? What had you done so wrong to deserve this untimely fate?
âIt's okay I've got you baby.â Your mother cooed as she rubbed circles into your back with her open palm. âIm here, Iâve got you now, let's get you ready to go up to the hospital hey, you wanna take a shower or?âÂ
âLet me just brush my teethââ You sighed as you spat into the sink to clear your throat. âI should ring Jake, make sure they got in safe.âÂ
âI'm sure theyâre just fine, heâd call if there was a problem, let's just focus on you for once.â You didn't want to feel like you were neglecting your children but you already felt like you were. They were your entire world, putting yourself first just wasn't in your nature. But as you thought about calling, thought about just sending a text, you looked at your phone to see a missed call from Jake about twenty minutes prior and a few text to follow.Â
:Lover: âKids and I are here safe, maâs on her fuck the ex campain already and dads nowhere to be seen.âÂ
:Lover: âHope you're enjoying your kid free afternoon, safe flight tonight, text me when you get into Calgary.âÂ
You couldn't help but to smile as you pocketed your phone, you'd call Jake later once you were settled into your hospital room. Right now you just needed to finish packing, brush your teeth and get over to the hospital for your admission time.Â
âHe loves you so much.â Your mother reminded you as she followed you up to your room to help you finish packing.Â
âI know he does.â You really weren't in the mood to be discussing the state of your marriage right now. âHe deserves better, someone not riddled with cancer cells.âÂ
âIs that why you won't even consider the idea of getting back together?â Your mother was nearly flawed when you silently nodded in return. âY/n, don't you dareââ Again, you didn't want to talk about it. Between Jake's mother not being your number one stan and your mother playing devil's advocate what seemed to be twenty four seven, you were just over everyone having an opinion.Â
âMum! He didn't care about me enough when I was healthy and happy and his wife! What makes you think heâll care now that Iâm literally dying!â You shouted as you threw a pair of extra soaks into your luggage bag. âIt's not fair, none of this is, but I left him well before I got sick and me getting sick doesn't change the reason I left.âÂ
Your mother didnât respond, all she did was stare at you worryingly from across your bedroom room in silence. It looked as if she was trying to figure something out, read your face, understand what was going on. Then, after a few short moments of silence she spoke.Â
âYour father and I went through something very similar before he died.â Your parents had been divorced for three years before your dad died in an awfully unexpected car accident. It shattered your mum, you knew it did. âWe never did get to a point where we could resolve our differences.â She explained softly as she walked over to help you pack the last few items. You let her help you fold some T-shirts, Jake's old T-shirts, as she spoke. âThis past year watching you and Jake go around in circles about how much you both still love each other and how desperately he's willing to change in order to keep you is so infuriating because you, my baby girl, have already decided you're not worth loving because youâre unfortunately going through something I can't even begin to comprehend.âÂ
âHe couldn't love me before mum.â You simply sighed in defeat, god it was like you were going around and around on a ferris wheel. âWhat makes you think this changes anything?âÂ
âThat man has never stopped loving you Y/n, he just got a little lost, we all do.âÂ
âIf you had a chance would you take dad back?â It was a question you'd never asked before purely because you were afraid the answer would be no. now? As you tried to navigate the best thing to do for yourself, you desperately hoped the answer would be yes. Perhaps then you wouldn't feel so torn about hating to love Jake Seresin and his ability to captivate your entire being.Â
âWithout a shadow of a doubt my dear.â Youâd never seen your mother have to hold back tears so hard before in your life. She was watching her only daughter go through a battle she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy as well as trying to help you through your separation. Although sometimes unwarranted and unsolicited, she was still your mother.Â
âWithout a shadow of a doubt.âÂ
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional l @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes
#was it over? // jake seresin#tw: cancer#tw: breast cancer#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman fic#topgun maverick#top gun fan fiction
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Merman x Siren au
Hualian - (part IV)
Previous part: PART III
First part: PART I
We finally reached the part I've been thinking about for ages đ I hope you like the siren, guys ^âą^
ALSO, if you wanna know how Hua Cheng looks like, I drew him: here
***
"Well, well, well..." the deep, unfamiliar clicks echo down the trench, causing unpleasant chills to run up Xie Lian's spine. "What do we have here?"
With a racing heart, Xie Lian slowly turns his head upwards, finally facing the creature blocking the daylight.
The first thing that pulls Xie Lian's gaze is the longest tail he has ever seen in his life. If not for the sharp, bloody red scales, he would say it resembles an eel more than any other creature he's ever come across. Other merpeople said that sirens take after reptiles such as crocodiles the most, but those don't usually live in salt waters, so Xie Lian never had a chance to check if their words were true. Not like it matters now anyway - following up the tail, Xie Lian sees the huge back fin, a few smaller ones on the sides, pale yet tough looking body and, the most terrifying for him, arms geared with shining claws.
"I,I... Iâ," Xie Lian clicks a few times, trying to maybe bargain with the siren, but all that comes out is rather incoherent.
"Hmm?" the creature respondes, arcing its left eyebrow.
When Xie Lian steals a short glance at its face, not daring to stare, he only catches eye contact with the creature's left eye, the right one being covered with long, black hair. From that one look, Xie Lian figures out the siren is probably a male, with a sharp jawline and more or less masculine features.
"Are you inaudible, little merman?" the siren mocks, swimming closer to Xie Lian, as if he wanted to catch his prey this instant.
In seconds Xie Lian in his mind sees the image of the siren getting closer and holding him by his throat to cover his gills. The vision of himself dying slowly and painfully in the creature's hold finally untangles his own tongue.
"N-no, that's not the case!" he exclaims, trying to back out of this situation, but soon enough his shoulders bump into the wall of the trench behind him. Ruoye managed to move onto the merman's stomach, so luckily it didn't suffer the collision. "I-I can explain! I just need one thing, I promise!"
"Interesting," the siren speaks up again, still approaching Xie Lian in a painfully slow and very mocking manner.
The siren knows the merman cannot escape and so does Xie Lian. He's just toying with his meal at this point and Xie Lian doesn't like that thought one bit.
"So you not only ventured into my territory uninvited, but you were also planning to take something without my permission nor knowledge. It's called stealing, little merman. But please, explain away."
Xie Lian grins to himself, noticing that the siren does have every single right to execute the merman here and now. However, he doesn't want to give up just yet. He hopes that the siren will understand him and cooperate.
"I know how it sounds, but I have a good reason, I promise I had no malicious intent coming here," Xie Lian starts, not daring to look up at the siren. "Some of the members of our pod have suddenly fallen ill to a highly dangerous and infectious disease. They are innocent merpeople, gatherers and nursery guardians. They were unable to swim since then and whatever they eat, they vomit out a few minutes later. If they're not granted the medicine for this illness, they are going to die suffering. But there's only one cure to this illness, at least that's what our oldest medic said - it's an algae that grows in almost full darkness, practically only in the ocean trenches. And the only trench we know of is this one! I-it's also not that we all agreed to come here, our leader even forbade us from coming into your territory, so, please, don't hold it against our pod, I came on my own! But I really want to help them, so please, let me take the algae!"
Xie Lian rapidly spits out the last sentence, begging the siren to have some mercy. However, after he finishes his speech, only silence follows. If not for the shadow still remaining casted at him, Xie Lian would think the siren left, since he no longer could sense his presence nor water movement around. Just then, siren finally reacts to his words, but it's not a reaction Xie Lian was waiting for.
The siren bursts laughing, making Xie Lian lift his gaze at him. The creature is way closer to him than Xie Lian thought - now he's able to see every single scale on his body and even some strange marks resembling veins on his torso and neck, travelling down his left arm and even up his face. Only then Xie Lian realises the siren doesn't have the second eye; where it should be, there's an ugly scar covered in the same strange marks that the merman noticed on his body.
Xie Lian doesn't have any more time to think about it though, because when the laughter dies down, the siren keeps staring at him with a mocking smile, as if he never saw anything as stupid and amusing as this very merman in front of him.
"Why... why are you laughing?" Xie Lian finally says, almost clinging to the wall when the siren comes even closer to him. The siren's black hair brush over Xie Lian's shoulders and tangle with his own, painting a beautiful yet terrifying picture.
"Foolish, little merman," the siren sums up, reaching out one of his hands to Xie Lian's face. Ruoye jumps up to attack him, but Xie Lian manages to catch the octopus with both hands and hug it to his chest, not wanting to anger the siren even more. "You won't pick that algae, no matter how much you want to."
"Please, let me go there! I really need it, we will repay you for your kindness if you let me go look for it! I promise! Please!"
However Xie Lian shuts up the second the siren's cold, clawed fingers touch his face. The siren catches his chin in two fingers, the rest slowly brushing over the merman's skin. It's terrifying, but also... it feels quite pleasant. Xie Lian doesn't understand it, but his heart starts beating even faster, but not only out of fear. What's the other emotion - he cannot tell.
"I am not stopping you from diving down the trench. I'm simply stating the fact, little merman. You are unable to pick that algae."
Xie Lian is dumbfounded. He blinks a few times, this time looking straight into the siren's eye.
"What... What do you mean? You're not stopping me? So... Why wouldn't I be able to pick the algae?"
"It's very simple," the siren states. "It grows too deep for any mer to pick it. That's why that disease that has fallen over your pod is called the 'black desolation'. It brings only two things over merpeople - annihilation from the illness and darkness from the places they try to find the medicine and fail. Your elder didn't mention it, did they?"
Xie Lian is speechless once again. What the siren says is even more terrifying than his presence itself.
'It... It can't be,' he thinks to himself. 'So there's no cure at all?'
"I see, you actually didn't know," the siren continues. "That's a pityâ"
"But!" Xie Lian cuts him short, suddenly feeling a rush of courage wash over him. "I won't give up until I try! I want to see for myself if I can pick it or not! Please, let me go, I can endure whatever the depth has there for me!"
The siren's eyebrow flies up yet again, visibly not believing in Xie Lian's success.
"So you still really want to start bleeding from all your flesh, lose all your senses and die a painful death, crushed by the conditions down there?"
Xie Lian hesitates, but then he nods. He knows he probably looks like the most pitiful creature in the siren's eye right now, but it doesn't matter.
"I will pick the algae, or I will die tryinâ"
"No need," the siren chimes in, letting go of Xie Lian's face. "I will pick the algae for you."
The siren backs away, leaving Xie Lian so surprised that he even lets go of Ruoye. The octopus, still angry with the siren's attitude, charges right at him, but even when it wraps itself around it's arm and bites down, the siren doesn't look amused at all.
"Ruoye, no!" Xie Lian exclaims, but he knows it's already too late.
"Don't worry, it's venom can do nothing to me. It's not the first blue-ring octopus I pissed off," is the only thing the siren says before Xie Lian manages to reach him and gently takes Ruoye in his hands, trying his best in convincing the animal to let go. When the octopus finally admits defeat, it wraps itself around Xie Lian's back again, obviously glaring at the siren.
Only now Xie Lian realises that as soon as Ruoye disappeared from his hold, his hands chose to rest on something else - that happened to be the siren's forearm, right in the place a small bite mark is now visible. Xie Lian blinks, unsure of what to do. Then he feels his cheek being touched by the siren's cold fingers yet again, making him look up at his handsome face.
"I will be back shortly. Stay here," the siren assures, but is taken aback when Xie Lian grips his arm even tighter instead of letting go.
"But... aren't you going to get hurt? I don't want you to risk your own life just because I probably cannot reach the algae. I... I want to do it on my own without putting any more lives on the line."
Xie Lian doesn't expect the siren to chuckle, but it actually happens. The siren only shakes its head, smiling leniently at the merman.
"My body is very different from the one of a mer. I can dive way deeper and endure extreme conditions. I am what your kin calls a 'monster', after all. Only a pitiful monster wouldn't be able to do such things. I'd rather live up to my titles."
With those words, siren suddenly dives down, not letting Xie Lian even think of a response. Within seconds he's totally gone in the pitch darkness, leaving the merman and the octopus alone.
***
Hello~! I feel like this part is a little longer than the previous ones, I hope you enjoyed it!! Lemme know what do you think in the comments ^âą^ See you soon!!
PART V
#tgcf hualian#tgcf#tgcf fanfic#tgcf hua cheng#tgcf xie lian#xie lian#hua cheng#hualian#tian guan ci fu#hualian au#mxtx tgcf#mxtx#merman#siren#merman au
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a collection of angsty quotes that reminded me of vaggie. inspired by @ lookinginsidemymind on tiktok.
âi think i was born to sting,â
but i don't mean to.â
âim not a violent dog. i dont know why i biteâ
âhow the absence of someone can feel like the absence of myself.â
âwish you were here. you could tell me what to do.â
âi am angry, i am unlovable. i am mostly afraid those things are true.â
âplease stop yelling at me please scratch my back please stick up for me in a conversation i am listening to from the top of the stairs. you are my girlfriend, act like itâ
âi wear the army's anger like a hand-me-down. the hotel says it does not look good on meâ
âi do not know how to love something without sinking my teeth into itâ
âi am the girl screaming. i am also the girl begging to not be screamed at.â
âwhat if i become angry like my past self. what if i already have?â
âi would do anything to become someone worth keeping aroundâ
âwhy are you running away?â
âi must search every corner of the world to search for the girl i once was. to get rid of her, once and for allâ
âi am so adam's top girl it hurts. can you tell?â
âi love you.â
âsometimes, i think love and violence are the sameâ
âif my past was a tooth, id tie a string around it and slam the door on those memories.â
âbut it is not. i cannot.â
âi am flying way too close to the sun and id like to say the heat burning my skin makes me feel alive but i really just want the blisters to prove ive been hurtâ
âi am messy. everything i let go of has claw marks. i am stubborn. i have never met a hill i wouldn't die onâ
âi've been holding onto this grief so long it feels as familiar as the turns into my neighborhood when i've fallen asleep in the car.â
âi want to wake up now. i want to let it goâ
âhow could i forget? does the tree forget the axe?â
âi stuffed myself into this cocoon. now i beg for transformationâ
âthank you for putting flowers in my messy room im sorry for making you mad at me i didn't mean to but unfortunately there's something wrong with meâ
âim trying my best im trying my best that's all i can doâ
âsometimes this girl's best is judging everyone else to distract herself from the fact that she hates herself more than she could ever hate anything elseâ
âi love like a dog. not in the cute, fluffy way; in the discarded, disgusting mutt way. i whine for any scraps of affection i am givenâ
âsometimes, you are so accustomed to hate you cannot fathom love. you reject it.â
âi don't think my creator knows my favorite color. or my birthday.â
âi wish i could look at myself in the mirror without cryingâ
âi love you with what in me is unfinished; i love you with what in me is still changingâ
âsomeday i will sail away from the shame i carry. for now, i am merely a passengerâ
âyou're holding onto something that doesn't exist anymoreâ
âunclench your fists.â
âthis grief isnt tangible but oh god how i can feel itâ
âthis is an automated message, please don't reply. we are calling in regard to your fatherâ
âwe mean your creator. we mean the man that raised you. we mean the man that said he raised you.â
âsorry, we dont know what we mean, because you don't know what we meanâ
âwe apologize for any miswording. we apologize the way they will never apologize. when will you accept that?â
âsometimes i dont want to get better just to show you how bad it wasâ
âi am afraid that if i open myself i will not be able to stop pouring. why do i fear becoming a river? what mountain gave me such shame?â
âyou keep asking if i would die for you. i keep asking why you want me deadâ
âgood enough to grab. they always put me back, though. đâ
âim sorry for saying sorryâ
#vaggie#hazbin vaggie#hazbin angst#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin hotel#vivziepop#hellaverse#lesbian#chaggie#chaggie angst??#fallenwings#lute x vaggie but they're exes#vaggie angst#sad thoughts#poetry#hazbin poetry#moth's hazbin poetry
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frostbite â pt. 1
pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader
content ; childhood friends to ârivalsâ to lovers, slowburn-ish
cw ; some swearing, mentions of wounds & medical stuff, dottore warning (?) he doesnât exactly do anything but yâknow- itâs dottore, sort of proofread
note ; i am so scared, iâve never posted anything like this on tumblr or at all LMFAO this is my first fic ever and very self indulgent. ive already posted 5 chapters of this on ao3 but i was curious as to how the tumblr ajax kissers would react to it. im sorry if this sort of info tab isnât very descriptive, im just basing it off what iâve seen from the viewerâs perspective.
ALSO, for context- tetya= aunt and dyadya= uncle in russian!
constructive criticism is appreciated!
next part | masterlist
âhey, watch your step! snowâs gotten harder and slippier these daysâŠâ
âyes, sir!â
âyes, father!â
just as the warning rings out, itâs followed by the dry crunch of heavy boots against snow. itâs not the same soft sound as it was a month or so ago, rather it sounds almost as if the ice gnashes aggressively at the leather boots.
it gnaws at your ears painfully, though youâve been sensitive to such sounds for as long as you could remember, yet you still flinch.
ajax notices right away. he always does.
âhere,â he goes, the cloud of his warm breath visible. turning your head toward the boy, you see that heâs handing you his earmuffs.
a sheepish grin invades your lips as you wordlessly take him up on his offer. mind rid of the god awful crush of the snow, you come up with a brilliant idea.
âlast one thereâs a rotten catch!â you charge onwards with a laugh.
âah, n-not again!â
ajaxâs father only watches from behind as his son hurries to catch up, a defeated sigh leaves him. âthese kidsâŠâ
said kids were already reaching the lake clearing at that point. the frozen water already has its own layer of fresh-fallen snow, making it seem like an entire new tundra- that is, until you and ajax brashly create footmarks and snow angels on the surface while his father is still yet to catch up. if heâd been closer you wouldâve heard the old manâs grumbles about having to carry all the fishing gear.
thankfully, there were no rotten catches that day.
your best friendâs laughter and your very own echo in your head like bells in an empty chapel, uninvitedly. the entire memory is instead invited by the sight of a father on the street with his own children, he carries a bucket and fishing rods as the youngins run ahead excitedly. you conclude that you shouldâve left for zapolyarny palace earlier today.
this morning cannot start off on a bad note, not when the doctor had meticulously scheduled an operation for this very day with your presence prerequisited.
youâre acutely aware of this.
youâre still acutely aware of this when you slam your work bag onto the desk with such force that even the fatui guard monitoring the palace hallway jumps.
and youâre still acutely aware of this when you almost bump into one of your bossâs segments on your way to the operation room, a most certain death that would be if you did bump into him. even as you break your stress fueled stride, the segment blocks the path forward.
âif i didnât know any better, i would assume this is your first day on your first job. ever.â
you furrow your eyebrows confusedly while the segment coldly scrutinizes you top to bottom.
âeven the lowliest of fatui recruits know that the first thing one should do after clocking in is get into the proper uniform.â he indicates with a snark in his tone.
ah- your lab coat.
âyes sir. my apologies.â with a haste in your step previously thought impossible to achieve without actually sprinting, you beeline straight to your office, which is conveniently on the other side of a very long hallway from the operation room. so long, in fact, that it gives enough time for a certain someone to slink into the office room without you even seeing it.
you donât notice him even as youâre already inside the room. well, how could you with such tunnel vision, powered by your early-morning frustration and innate fear of disappointing the doctor. youâre practically out the door with lab coat in hand when he finally quips.
âuhm, doc?â the voice is shaky but still impossible to not recognize.
god dammit.
the tsaritsa was truly not on your side today. with a deep inhale, you do your best to keep a neutral expression as you turn around to face the head of red hair that haunts your dreams. or rather nightmares.
âhow may i help you, lord tartaglia?â you still hated that title.
âwell heh⊠this is the head nurseâs office, i believe you can help me by exerting the very function of this room?â the harbinger puts on a friendly front, acting like he canât feel your burning glare. within it, you start to gauge at whatâs brought him here, few surface-level scratches and even fewer cuts that are ever so slightly deeper present on him.
âiâm afraid iâm running late for an important appointment with the doctor, youâll have to ask one of my subordinates.â you state matter-of-factly and start turning to leave again.
âw-wait, please!â he reaches out to stop you and the hand lands on your bicep, rather than your wrist which wouldâve been a quicker latch. huh. âlet me talk to him afterwards, heâll understand. plus, iâm your boss as much as he is.â
âyouâre quite literally not.â
âyeah, iâm not. still your boss though.â
childe is not of as high authority over you as the doctor is, afterall youâre one of the doctorâs assigned assistants, but the way he talks so casually and⊠playfully makes him seem even less bossy. but you donât allow yourself anymore time to dwell on it, instead you roll your eyes and give in. your boss almost giddily sits on the examination bed.
the sterilized silk gloves slide snugly onto your palms as you look your patient up and down.
âhow did you even manage to get yourself roughed up so early in the morning?â
âitâs never too early in the morning for a spar! though- hah⊠even i didnât expect to take this many free hits.â
âwho were you sparring?â
âeh, some junior lieutenants at the northwest wing. there were some new recruits there too so i figured iâd set an example for âem.â
northwest wing..? you visibly pause at the revelation.âthatâs⊠on the other side of zapolyarny palace.â
âso?â
âso thereâs nurses there too.â
childe himself seems to pause then- you were catching onto him. he realizes he must think about his next actions as carefully as humanly possible.
âahah⊠a-are there?â
good one, ajax.
you look down at the alcohol-soaked cotton ball sitting snugly between your tweezers and then up to a scratch right above childeâs eyebrow- seems like the perfect time to treat your patient. the sting comes before the harbinger can even react and much to his dismay, you keep the cotton ball on his forehead even as attempts to lean away from it.
âchilde tartaglia,â you start, voice menacing and low. âdid you orchestrate a sparring session with low-rank officers and get yourself injured on purpose to come see me?â
âa-ah ouch!â childe hisses. âsurely you w-wouldnât commit medical malpractice over something as trivial as this?â clearly he forgets who you work for, or pretends to at least.
âstart talking.â
âokay, okay! yes, i did all thatâŠâ the red head sulks with a defeated sigh. pleased by the confession, you move away with your alcohol cotton ball of doom and give him space.
you watch the tsaritsaâs weapon of war crumple into himself, looking off into a meaningless corner of the room.
âi⊠iâm being stationed to liyue tomorrow.â his voice is entirely different from what it was when this entire ordeal began- quiet, hesitant.
âand?â is your response before you can even think about how douchey it sounds. itâs already too late when you see childe deflate even more and feel like you just kicked a puppy.
âand i wanted to come and give you the news.â
really? thatâs all he wanted from this?
âthen why go through all this effort of sparring newbies at practically the ass crack of dawn and lose? why not just come here and tell me at once?â
he scoffs bitterly. âlike youâd talk to me under normal circumstances.â
the regret you were feeling from your cruel response from earlier quickly bleeds out into incredulousness.
âyou havenât talked to me under normal circumstances since we were fourteen.â you stab back and childe bites his tongue, he wonât retaliate this time. the rest of the appointment is spent in the deadliest of silences as you finish tending to his âinjuriesâ. neither of you ever look up to face the other.
you pack up quickly as to haul ass from the office room as soon as possible. but not before you mutter stoically- âhave fun in liyue.â
and childe is left to sit pathetically on the bed and contemplate his astronomical failure.
â
what a wretched week.
the days seem to take a thousand years each to end, the laboratory feels stuffier, the people less tolerable and you swear the pen in your hand feels heavier than a lead ingot.
âare you done sulking?â
oh yeah, thereâs also the ruthless fatui harbinger you work under and the equally insulting bajillion copies of him. you know bajillion is a gross overestimation but you also gave up keeping track of how many segments the doctor has a long time ago, theyâre bossy all the same.
ânot sulking, sir, just⊠thinking.â
âthinking about the medical records youâre supposed to be overseeing surely?â he taunts and you can only scoff non-committedly.
said medical records were mere reports on several of the doctorâs past experiments and operations, arguably not worth such a commitment of your time or worth a hackling from your boss. either way the words and paragraphs had merged into blurred lines and incomprehensible messes in your eyes about ten minutes ago, you were only pretending to be doing something at this point.
the irresistible force of your boredom drives your gaze to anywhere but the papers in front of you, eventually settling onto a corkboard hung up on a farther wall of the doctorâs laboratory. tired retinas struggle to focus on the blueprints that are stuck onto the corkboard but they seem to have rough sketchings of⊠body parts? theyâre definitely not human, no, instead the drawings indicate theyâre robotical. on another blueprint is an unfinished rendering of the full robot body. the shape language is unconventionally stylized, to a point where they almost resemble traditional inazuman patterns or even⊠the patterns on scaramouches robes-
âl-lord dottore!! i have an u-urgent matter sent by lord pierro himself.â
huh?
âout with it. quick.â the segment doesnât even bother to face the stammering officer that had bursted through the door right then.
âu-uhm⊠some of our liyue informants have reported t-that rex lapis suddenly p-perished during the rite of descension,â
huh?
ârex lapis, dying? well,â he drawls amusedly. âthat would certainly be a sight. but how exactly does this development concern me? is the banker not available?â
âw-well y-yes⊠lord pierro specifically requested for your word on the matter a-and perhaps see if one of your s-subordinates could⊠be on-site?â
dottoreâs segment lets out an exasperated sigh while a gloved hand goes up to pinch the bridge of his nose. âunfortunately it doesnât surprise me that the collective surplus amount of agents we have stationed in liyue harbor proves to be utterly incompetent to the point where the jester himself would come to me for help.â
a feeling of dread settles in your chest as you try to digest the insane information youâve been given-
rex lapis, the oldest of the seven archons of teyvat, is dead.
pierro, the head of the fatui harbingers, is requesting dottore to send one of his subordinates to investigate the scene.
thatâs you, youâre dottoreâs subordinate.
which means youâll be sent to investigate an archonâs death. in liyue.
thatâs where he is.
your head feels like itâll explode any second now. the segment, ever so brilliantly clever like his prime version, seems to have the same idea as you and beams a sharp-toothed sadistic grin.
âwhy my assistant here does seem to be available, wouldnât you say?â he turns a serpentine stare over to you.
âerr⊠i donât think i could leave my post here, sir, i am the head nurse after all-â
ânonsense, i doubt the bumbling idiots of this palace will find themselves into anything more troublesome than a papercut while youâre gone.â
oh the irony of hearing that after your⊠situation the other day. you huff defeatedly, standing up to start packing for your impromptu trip. the mysterious blueprints in the laboratory long forgotten.
â
morepesok hasnât changed a bit since you left.
which, as much as you love your hometown, isnât saying much- morepesok is as uneventful as it gets. in such a small seaside snezhnayan village, the only points of interest are the painfully traditional values of fishing and family.
the visit to your parentsâ house is brief but comforting, some teary goodbyes and heartfelt words about how pleased and proud they are of what youâve accomplished for yourself- achieving such a high position in the fatui ranks by merely helping people. you donât even consider telling them about the doctor.
but what makes you feel worse is the visit to ajaxâs family home. itâs like the house has been frozen in time, the place where you spent years of your childhood is intact and unchanged- except for some newer family pictures, of course.
teucer, tonia and anthon are the ones to greet you first, then ajaxâs parents come along. huh⊠ajax. you hadnât even noticed the switch your brain does whenever youâre back home. here, heâs ajax but in zapolyarny palace, heâs childe or tartaglia. but thereâs no time to dig yourself a deeper hole in that topic because youâre presently being pampered like a very own daughter of the house by his parents.
âmy dear, look at you! you look so grown and mature⊠have you been eating well?â his mother walks up to cup your cheeks with the most genuine parental love. she, like the rest of the environment, looks exactly as you remember her, with a few newer white strands betwixt her bright orange curls. well, remember is a strong word.
âtetya, itâs only been a few months since weâve seen each other, iâm all the same.â you laugh and she reciprocates.
âyes yes, i know⊠and- oh! as a matter of fact, we saw ajax just this week, said he was being transferred to a northland bank all the way in liyue!â
and when you thought you could not feel shittier about this.
âit is a shame to have our ajax so far from home so suddenly but at least we still have you, dearest!â she grins, pinching your cheek with more vigor than youâve seen apparent in fatui sergeants.
âhey!â the three younger siblings call out in unison.
âyeah, a-about that, tetyaâŠâ you start hesitantly. âiâm⊠also being transferred to liyue. there have been some unexpected developments and iâll just be on field to check up on things.â
ajaxâs mother huffs incredulously. âby the tsaritsaâs name! they must hate mothers over at that palace!â she shakes her head with disappointment. âspeaking of which, have you gone to see your parents yet?â you only nod. âgood good⊠well anyhow, are you in a hurry, dear? i could make you some hot chocolate and then youâre free to be on your way.â
how could you ever deny your tetyaâs hot chocolate?
the rest of your stay in the household is spent chatting with the family and playing games with the younger kids, as well as drinking a cup of hot chocolate so delicious you almost cry. the afternoon is nearing its end when youâre walking out the door and teucer is bawling his eyes out at your departure, or maybe heâs just tuckered out.
âhave a safe trip, kiddo.â ajaxâs father pats you on the shoulder firmly.
âthanks, dyadya, i will.â
âoh! and take care of ajax, make sure he doesnât get in over his head.â this time itâs tonia who pipes up and the rest of the family nods in agreement.
âbye bye, everyone!â youâre already at the houseâs front fence, waving back as fiercely as you can.
the only thing you donât notice is the knowing look that is shared between tonia and her mother when she mentions ajax.
#childe x reader#tartaglia x reader#childe genshin x reader#tartaglia genshin impact#childe imagines#childe x you#childe x y/n#tartaglia x you#tartaglia x y/n#tartaglia imagines#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact fic#childe tartaglia#childe tartaglia ajax#ajax x reader
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ive been manifesting something important for months now and it hasn't conformed yet. im trying my best to live in my 4d and i feel so fulfilled in the beginning of the day until the day passes by and i start to notice all the time thats passed and get anxious that it never will manifest. i know im self sabotaging by noticing that it hasnt materialized yet but i dont know how to stop getting in my own way
i totally get that! i went through the same thing when i first started manifesting. id start every day in a good mood and motivated but then as hours passed i'd just be like :( ugh. and it'd get hard not to think about the lack or how much longer it was going to take.
i think that the most important thing to remember in times like these is that as long as you are shifting back to the wish fulfilled (which remember, takes no feeling or big production) after you notice you've fallen out, you'll be okay. you can fall out of the state 100 times a day, and as long as you shift back 101 times, you are good! i know doubting and/or wondering if it'll ever manifest can be really annoying and just not fun things to think about, but i think what really helped me was knowing that when i found myself dwelling on thoughts like these, it wasn't the end of the world and it wouldn't ruin things. you just have to remind yourself that's not who you want to be anymore, that's not the story you want to identify with, and that you're choosing better for yourself.
it also really helps me to distract myself. even now when i cannot stop thinking about something im manifesting, i make myself do something that i know will take up my attention, such as reading, watching a show or youtube, or playing a game and listening to music. this really helps me when im feeling anxious because it calms me down and gives me something else to think about and pay attention to!
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the fairest stars: post iv
Beren and LĂșthien steal two Silmarils, more sons of FĂ«anor than anyone ever needed or wanted get involved, things go extremely sideways: you know the drill. You can find the first 18 parts of this bullet point fic on AO3 here, and parts 16-20 on tumblr here.
We're starting out part 21 with a timeskip!
One year after the fall of Himring, north Beleriand remains bitterly contested.
The East is overrun. In Barad Eithel's great war-room the map of Estolad is covered in black arrows stretching from Lothlann down to the Andram Wall.
Caranthir and Amras maintain a last stronghold on Amon Ereb, with the people of Himring who fled there after its fall; but Ossiriand, they fear, will only remain undefiled so long as Morgoth's attention does not turn towards it.
Their Eastern allies, too, are unimpressed. BĂłr and his young sons were all slain not long after Himring burned; the few of their people who escaped the orc-raids have joined themselves to Ulfang in Thargelion, but they are none too friendly to the FĂ«anorians these days.
"And Nelyo says I'm bad at making allies," Caranthir remarks.
[yeah he's in this now. damn it why will they not stay in their place.]
"I wouldn't say this is Nelyo's fault," Amras says quietly.
It is a debate held, in one form or the other, in every free kingdom in Beleriand.
But anyway, the East does not seem to be Morgoth's main concern for now.
It is Hithlum, Fingon is sure, where the next assault will come.
Hithlum, the realm of the High King of the Noldor; Hithlum, where he reigns who once humilated Morgoth so thoroughly; Hithlum, where Maedhros holds a Silmaril yet.
If the last true stronghold of the Noldor fallsâ
And he is facing plenty of internal pressure, too.
His lords â many of them survivors of the Grinding Ice, and arch-loyal followers of the House of Fingolfin â are less than impressed by the rumours that have reached them of the fall of Himring, and Maedhros' actions there.
Fingon has tried to quell the whispers as best as he can. But it is impossible to deny the fact that the attack took Himring by surprise because its patrols were cancelled on Maedhros' orders, or that Maedhros left the field as their position worsened.
The healers who treated Maglor's stab wound have not been quiet, either, about the fact that it was an elvish blade that caused the injury.
And some of those who were at Himring have heard that Maglor was found in a pool of his own blood with Maedhros, subdued too late, unconscious beside himâ
If only they knew, Fingon thinks furiously, they would not cast sly aspersions on his judgement and his taste in friends. They would not stop talking of anything consequential when Maedhros drew near, as if he is not to be trusted with the secrets of the war.
Of course when he dares to suggest to Maedhros that this might bother him, Maedhros laughs and says, "Finno, do you think this the worst humiliation I have ever endured?"
So. There's not much Fingon can say to that.
His father was a diplomat, a politician, a builder of alliances. Fingon is not doing a very good job of living up to that legacy.
Thingol returned no response to the letter Fingon sent him, informing him of Curufin's disappearance.
In fact, Thingol is kind of just Done.
So the Noldor turned out to be faithless. What else is new?
Also he didn't really want Curufin's head anyway. Where would he even put it?
Fingon cannot give him what he truly wishes for: his daughter.
In LĂșthien's absence old age has fallen upon him, who has lived unwithered for long Ages of the Stars since his birth at distant CuiviĂ©nen.
Melian sings no longer. The people of Doriath, who have known little but peace and splendour since the Girdle was first raised, begin to wonder if their blessings have been withdrawn.
So it is a Menegroth much changed into which Beren and LĂșthien walk, hand in hand, one afternoon.
Their return is met with both joy and some consternation. Youth comes back to Thingol at the touch of his daughter's hand; but Melian knows that she will never smile again.
LĂșthien bears it all, the feasts of celebration at which none can look her in the eye, her father's overwhelming gladness and her mother's sorrow, the halls that ring yet with the memory of her grief, for exactly two weeks; then she announces that she and Beren are leaving.
"Daughter," Thingol protests, "you have only just returned to us â and soonâ"
(Thingol does not know how he will ever handle the parting that is to come.)
"Will you not stay?" he asks. "This is your home."
LĂșthien is not sure she knows what home means any more.
"I am sorry," she says, regretful but firm.
The next day finds her and Beren walking through Brethil, debating their next course of action â just as they did not so very long ago, when Celegorm and Curufin attacked them in the woods.
It is of that little skirmish that Beren is thinking now.
"They say Curufin is still out there somewhere," he argues. "It mightn't be safeâ"
"I sang Morgoth himself to sleep," LĂșthien cries, "and you think I can't take Curufin FĂ«anorion?"
"TinĂșviel," Beren says, with a laugh, "I do not think there is anyone you can't take."
LĂșthien allows herself to be placated.
"I am not suggesting we dwell alone in the wilderness," she says; "you made your earlier thoughts on that very clear. But I â I cannot go back to being Doriath's Princess, Beren, as if every part of me is not changed irretrievably since first you called my name, as if â as if you didn't die there, andâ"
"Sweetheart," says Beren, kissing her forehead. "It wasn't permanent." And when she chokes out a little laugh through her tears, he goes on, "I know you do not wish to stay in Doriath. But we must choose somewhere â and somewhere safe. It seems as though the Enemy's reach has lengthened in the time we were, um, gone."
"I thought to go to Ossiriand," LĂșthien says. "My kin the Green-elves still guard those lands."
"But only those lands," says Beren. "Estolad and Thargelion are overrun. The sons of FĂ«anor keep no watch upon the Eastmarch. If Morgoth were to learn that you dwelled thereâ"
"I'm not afraid," LĂșthien says. "And even if I were â am I never to venture beyond the Girdle again, for fear of him? Is all my father's kingdom to be naught to me but a prison, as HĂrilorn was? I cannot stand it â I will not."
Beren takes both her hands in his one and looks at her. "TinĂșviel," he says, very seriously, "I will never cage you."
Oh, he knows her. What a wondrous, terrifying thing, to be understood so completely.
Perhaps LĂșthien is still a little delirious with the rush of living once more, for she dips her head to capture Beren's mouth in a delighted kiss, and for a time they both forget all other matters.
Plucking strands of grass from her hair some time later, Beren says, "I have another idea."
"What! I thought I argued my case quite passionately," LĂșthien teases.
"You said you thought of dwelling among your kin," says Beren. "What of going to mine, instead?" And, when LĂșthien shoots him a puzzled look, "The House of BĂ«or is mostly ruined, but there are still remnants of my people who escaped Dorthonion ere its fall. Some of them dwell nearby, with the Haladin. And others went north to Dor-lĂłmin â my little cousin Morwen is the lady of that land now."
"I do not wish to stay in Brethil," says LĂșthien; "it is rather too close to Menegroth for my tastes. But the Land of Echoes, on the other hand..."
Her eyes are alight with that same fanciful gleam they used to get when Beren told her stories of the world outside the Girdle, of holy Tarn Aeluin and the dread Ered Gorgoroth alike.
You would think, Beren muses, that she would have had enough of adventure by now.
"I have," says LĂșthien, catching his thought. "We are to live a very peaceful and retiring life. I insist on it! That is what I told Mandos we deserved. None shall dare assail us, in Dor-lĂłmin." She rolls the name on her tongue as if trying to taste it.
"They call it so because of the terrible cry of Morgoth when Ungoliant assailed him," Beren tells her, "not for any sweeter music."
LĂșthien laughs and flings her arms around him. Oh, his living body warm and solid against hers! It is a gift she does not intend to waste.
"Luckily," she says, "I am good at changing the melody."
Another conversation between lovers:
"Do you think it could be done?"
âI have already told you what I think.â
"But you haven't explained," Fingon persists, "you have only looked at me dolefully and proclaimed that it is not possible."
"Well, it is not," says Maedhros. He is lying curled in Fingon's arms, their ankles hooked together, and he is loath to disturb their contentment with arguing. Keeping his voice measured, he says, "If our strength were doubled I do not think it would be enough, Finno."
"The attack will come either way," Fingon says, also without much vigour. They have had this debate so many times now that it is become well-worn. "Why not meet it head on?"
"Because you have a defensible position here," Maedhros says patiently, "and a greater chance of holding than you do of storming the gates of Angband."
"My father did it," Fingon mutters.
"Your father died," Maedhros says, voice suddenly sharp.
Fingon looks at him. "Don't look so worried, beloved! I am quite turned off the idea of wasteful heroics these days."
"Then look to strengthening your defences," Maedhros says, "and drop this fool notion."
"But if we did try," says Fingon, "if we united all the Free Peoples under one banner, and marched on Angband together â think what we could achieve!"
His eyes are bright with hope. Maedhros hates to crush it, but crush it he must.
"Finno," he says, "the East is lost. My brothers do not have so strong a position in Amon Ereb that they can afford to march north to join in a war that could prove ruinous. BĂłr and his people are dead almost to a man. Belegost will no doubt have heard the rumoursâ"
Fingon glances at him sharply, but he speaks without bitterness. Which is concerning in itself, but Fingon decides to let it slide for now.
"âand there is little help to be expected from other corners," Maedhros continues. "Doriath has strength to spare, but Thingol hates you."
Fingon shifts uncomfortably. He never actually told Maedhros why Thingol hates him now.
"Nargothrond," he says, to change the subject. "Orodreth will answer to his High King."
"Orodreth!" says Maedhros, dismissively. âA king too ruled by the whims of his people. If he had any spine he would have turned my brothers out of Nargothrond immediately, and Finrod might have lived.â
If Fingon were crueller he might say, You didn't manage to control your brothers that well yourself. Instead he says, "But the people of Nargothrond are many and valiant. We should not discount them."
"If Nargothrond wishes to stay out of the wars of the north," says Maedhros, "I think it would be prudent to allow them to do so." There is a thoughtful, uneasy look in his grey eyes.
Fingon gauges it correctly and says, "Are you worried for your nephew?"
Maedhros looks at him unhappily. "Everyone in Beleriand knows what a mess â Curvo â made of â everything," he says.
(A year might have passed, but Maedhros still does not much like to speak of Curufin.)
"Tyelpë is safe in Nargothrond, where his father's deeds cannot taint him," Maedhros says. "I would keep him so." Then he shrugs. "But my opinion carries no weight now, beloved. Do as you will, and I will support you, for all that is worth."
"It carries weight with me," Fingon says fiercely. "And I am not ashamed to say so. But you have not yet heard the key element in my plan."
Maedhros smiles despite himself, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can keep his eyes focused on Fingon's face. The mass of his silken hair is pooled on Fingon's bare chest. "Go on, then," he says, indulgent.
"Gondolin," Fingon says triumphantly. "My brother took a third of our host with him when he disappeared, and yet more of the Sindar went with him. They have lived in peace for more than three hundred years; their numbers must be great."
Maedhros does not seem as delighted with this idea as Fingon is. "Finno, you don't know where Gondolin is."
"The Eagles bring them tidings, clearly," Fingon points out; "else they would have opened the leaguer and come to our aid when they saw the fires of the Dagor Bragollach on the horizon."
Maedhros frowns, attempting to parse this extremely backwards logic. Eventually, he says, "If Hithlum falls, Gondolin will be the last stronghold of the Noldor in the north. I do not know if its position should be risked."
"All war is risk, beloved," says Fingon, "and if I were to call upon my brother, Hithlum will not fall."
Maedhros says, as if he has been saving this blow for last, "Finno, if you call upon Turgon, will he even answer?"
It has been more than three hundred years, since Fingon last saw his brother.
âDo you think he wonât?â he asks, more sharply than he means to.
(Turgon didnât tell him he was going. He didnât tell anyone. He just â vanished.)
Sometimes Maedhros thinks things were easier during Maglorâs long convalescence, when his only concern was his brother, when every sleepless night was because Maglor needed someone to sit up with him and every meal was whatever invalid's food Maglor could be persuaded to choke down â when Fingon was his strength and steadiness, and Maedhros could yet wrap his blue cloak around him like armour.
Selfish â selfish. Maglor is better now, and Maedhros is so, so glad; and Fingon cannot always be his strength. Sometimes Maedhros must be his.
"I am sure he will," he says, contrite. He presses a kiss to Fingon's tense jawline. "I just don't think it wise to ask him."
Fingon sighs and puts his arms around Maedhros. "Fine," he concedes. "Perhaps you are right."
But later, when they have extricated themselves from their warm tangle of limbs and risen for the day, he sits down to write a letter.
A few days later the High King's messenger, having ridden swiftly along the Ered Wethrin and into Dor-lĂłmin, nearly collides with a small child playing near the road.
"Be careful!" cries LĂșthien, dropping Beren's hand and rushing forward to snatch the child up.
The messenger gapes at her, for it seems to him as though she has materialised out of the shadows themselves. Then, when he gets better look at her beauty, he gapes even more.
LĂșthien is not paying attention. All her focus is on the little golden-haired creature in her arms. "That was nearly very dangerous for you, wasn't it, sweetheart?" she coos. "But you don't seem frightened at all. What's your name, dear one?"
The little girl giggles and hides her face in LĂșthien's sleeve without answering.
Beren feels a little dizzy, looking at the picture that they make, and at the bright tender look on his wife's face. Someday, he tells himself, someday.
He looks around. The messenger has dismounted; it seems the great house up ahead is his destination. A house of lords, clearly, surrounded by gardens as lovely as any in the chilly northlands, and with a bubbling stream running just past its walls.
Well, here they are.
He is pondering what the etiquette is here â should they knock? wait here until someone spots them? â when he catches sight of a second child, a little older, dark-haired, watching them intently from around a tree-trunk.
"Good day, lad," Beren says gravely. "Might I ask your name, and those of your parents?"
The boy regards him with suspicion for a while, before he finally says, "I am TĂșrin son of HĂșrin, and that is my sister Lalaith."
(One little-appreciated consequence of the fall of Himring: for the last year, Morgoth's attention has been on the final desecration of the March of Maedhros. He did not have time to send the Evil Breath to Dor-lĂłmin.)
"Lalaith!" LĂșthien says, delighted. "What a fitting name."
"Then, son of HĂșrin," says Beren, "we have reached our destination indeed. Might you do me the honour of introducing us to your parents?"
TĂșrin looks unimpressed. "Who are you?" he asks.
"My name is Beren son of Barahir," says Beren, "and we are kinsmen, son of Morwen."
TĂșrin frowns even more. "How do you know my mother's name?" he demands. "And Beren is dead."
Kind of hard to argue with that.
Before Beren can come up with a suitable response there is a small noise from the direction of the house: the children's mother has come out to call them in for the evening meal. She stands so still she might be made of stone, were it not for the wind whipping up her dark hair behind her.
Beren finds his own mouth is very dry.
He buried Baragund his cousin, and avenged him; and he has not thought of his slaughtered companions for a long time.
(There's only so much survivor's guilt one person can have, and it is usually the screams of Finrod and his Ten that haunt Beren's nightmares.)
Morwen is not now the thirteen-year-old he remembers, her face sterner and more sorrowful, but somehow she is the image of her dead father.
"Hello, little cousin," he croaks out.
Morwen stares at him.
LĂșthien comes to the rescue. "You must be the lady Morwen," she says warmly, setting Lalaith down so that she can drop into a graceful curtsey. Her Taliska is hesitant, but beautiful. (Everything about LĂșthien is beautiful.) "Beren has told me so much of you. And your children are charming."
"Beren's dead," Morwen says at last, shakily. "And â youâ"
"I was dead," says Beren, "but now I'm not. I don't know how to explain it, cousin, butâ" He holds his hand out to her, letting the Ring of Barahir gleam green upon his finger in the setting sun. "It really is me."
Morwen makes another small sound, swaying where she stands. Her hand rests on her son's dark head as though he is the only thing keeping her upright.
"Mother?" TĂșrin says nervously.
Before things can get any more awkward the lord of the house comes out to seek his family, perhaps wondering what is taking them so long. "Morwen," he says quietly, seeing her stiff posture.
But Morwen takes a breath. "We have guests, HĂșrin," she says, composed again. "This is my kinsman Beren Erchamion, and his â and his wife, the Princess of Doriath."
LĂșthien turns her dazzling smile on HĂșrin. "A pleasure to meet you," she says gaily. "But call me rather the Lady of Dorthonion."
(to be continued)
#silmarillion#my fic#bullet point fic#the fairest stars#beren#luthien#fingon#maedhros#russingon#here we gooo!!#very excited for where we're going with this arc#this thing definitely needs more editing but I lost patience so have it now#say hi to a bunch of new characters (more are coming later too)#and a new set of political problems#also guess who DOESN'T appear here for the first time in 21 parts I'm as shocked as you are#(he'll be back next time dw)#also nobody died or got stabbed or had a breakdown or got nearly executed or like. even stubbed their toe here so BE GRATEFUL
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So how did we get from this
Dedicated to his Worshippers, George Frederic Watt (1817-1904)
To this?
A brief history of Mammon
Addendum Because We Can't Have Nice Things: this essay is in no way meant to be a "critique", criticism, or personal attack against Helluva Boss/Hazbin Hotel/Vivziepop as I am, in fact, a big fan of all three! I actually loved the newest episode and Mammon as a character. Seeing him in motion, I think he looks damned near perfect as a modern take on the King of Greed. I wrote this ONLY for educational purposes.
Mammon is a Chaldee (the Semantic language of ancient Chaldeans, the people of a small Mesopotamian country who were later absorbed by the Babylonians) or Syriac word meaning "wealth" or "riches".
The Worship of Mammon, Evelyn De Morgan (1909)
He is best remembered from the Sermon on the Mount from Mathew 6: 24 (King James version): âNo man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.â
Some scholars believe Mammon might have been loosely based on DÄ«s Pater, originally a Roman God of mineral wealth and fertile lands who was later merged with the chthonic deities of the underworld Pluto and Orcus (because minerals come from underground). Pluto was depicted in the Divine Comedy as "wolflike demon of wealth"; wolves in the medieval times were symbols of greed. Others think he might have been an ancient Syrian god, though no trace of his cult or temples exists.
Mammon transformed over time from an abstract concept to major demon. This is thanks to later philosophers and theologians such as Saint Gregory of Nyssa, a third century Byzantine scholar, Archbishop of Constantinople John Chrysostom, and Peter Lombard, bishop of Paris from 1159 to 1160. His book of Four Books of Sentences (Sententiarum libri IV) was the standard theological text of the Middle Ages.
Mammon was assigned the sin of greed according to the Peter Binsfield classification of demons.
John Milton of Paradise Lost fame imaged him as a fallen angel. He is described as being stooped over (literally the "least erected" of Lucifer's demonic host) because he always has his eyes downward looking for gold and would rather use Hell's resources to finance his lavish lifestyle than wage war against Heaven.
In Edmund Spenser's 16th long poem, The Faerie Queene, Mammon is a âuncouth, salvage, and uncivile wightâ who sets up his cave of riches right next to the entrance to the underworld. Subtle, huh? He tries to tempt Sir Guyon, the protagonist of Book II, with all his fabulous wealth, arguing that he could use it for good. (This is a religious-moral-political allegory about temperance, so you can guess how well that went.) He shows up again in Jacques de Plancy's Dictionnaire Infernal as Hell's ambassador to England. Yes, really.
Just like in Biblical times, reformists used Mammon as a symbol of exploitation and unfettered capitalism during the industrial age.
Fun fact: Mr. Burns lives at the corner of Croesus and Mammon street.
So how does Vivziepop's version compare to the historical Mammon? I dunno, he hasn't appeared in the show yet. It's not my favorite design, but I like the fact that half the fandom was expecting him to be the Big Bad of Helluva Boss, and he's a just big heckin' chonk who sort of looks like a demented Dr. Suess character crossed with a demonic air freshener. It's a silly design for a silly dude, but he could be more dangerous than he looks...
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I have a new aaa-sk! đ„°
Lmk if youâve done this one before, but how would each of the papas be with a reader who deals with insomnia and nightmares? (I have trouble with this same thing sometimes and itâs just đ©)
Hi dear! Thank you so much for your ask, and honestly, same⊠lately it has been hard to sleep so⊠Letâs get some comfort from the Papas, shall we?
I. Primo
He doesnât get much sleep himself. Insomnia has haunted him for a long time and he got used to it.
It has been different lately. Your presence by his side helps him a lot. Your warmth, the beating of your heart⊠all that makes him relax to no end.
The same goes for you, since you are with him, everything has been better. That does not mean however that your insomnia has gone away completely.
Primo knows how much you need your sleep, much more than he does, and so his solution is to tell you stories.
He comes with a lot of stories of his own, he is an excellent narrator and a very good storyteller. Sometimes however he will tell you stories that his mother used to tell him when he was little.
Small Italian fairy tales and legends. Those are your favourite because they bring him closer to you.
His heart swells when he decides that he is going to tell you these stories, because he hasnât thought about them for a while.
They made him happy and now you make him happy. Mixing the two just makes so much sense to him.
You are filled with joy and relaxation and soon after he starts to tell the story you have fallen into Morpheus embrace.
II. Secondo
He knows how bad your nightmares are. He has dealt with them himself for so many years.
It took him a long time to find peace.
So he knows how bad you feel and how little you sleep because of them.
When you wake up crying and/or screaming from a nightmare he is instantly awake beside you, reassuring you that nothing is going to hurt you, that you are safe.
He hugs you closely, rocking your body back and forth in a rhythmic motion.
His hand caresses your hair and you just melt under his touch.
He is your knight in shiny armor, he will protect you from your nightmares, he always does.
You fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart, a reminder that he will never leave your side.
III. Terzo
He usually sleeps like a rock and does not notice that you donât sleep much.
You are afraid to tell him. It is embarrassing to let him know that you are not able to sleep on his very comfortable bed.
One time you almost collapse from exhaustion and Terzo finally confronts you about it. He had known for a while, but he wanted to give you space to tell him on your own tempo.
(To hell with that)
You finally tell him with tears in your eyes, you are so exhausted that while you cry you cannot avoid to yawn.
He feels so guilty because you did not tell him and you feel guilty for not telling him. Then you talk about it and both of you laugh, you had been so stubborn.
After that he does everything he can to ensure that you will sleep like a baby: new bed sheets, sleeping tea or hot cocoa before bed, calming massages and oils, ambient noises⊠anything you desire.
You do in fact sleep like a baby after that, and Terzo is so proud of it all.
IV. Copia
It all starts one night that you start turning around like crazy. Sweat on your forehead, mumbling nonsense.
Copia wakes up and notices, he doesnât have other choice but to wake you.
However, he has to avoid your fist, which involuntarily aims for his face once you jolt awake.
You apologise profusely, but he assures you there is nothing wrong. Then he asks you about your nightmare.
You tell him about your recurrent nightmare and he just listens with patience and worry.
He is so understanding and loving. Copia pulls you towards him afterwards, but if you ask for him to get you anything he will do it without a moment of hesitation.
Once you are leaned back against him, comfortable and safe he starts to sing to you. Anything you want, his songs, a lullaby, your favourite tune, anything.
He sings it softly, almost in a whisper. His voice is so soft, almost like touching silk and in minutes you go back to sleep.
His warmth is like a blanket, like a shield. It will protect you from your nightmares, now and forever.
#gonst#the band ghost#ghost#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#ghost band#ghost bc#papa emeritus iii#papa terzo#papa secondo#ask box#ghost band fanfic
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back on the gigantic messy bottom agenda rogue getting roger on her strap while roger is in raleigh and ray isnt even doing anything hes just looking incredibly smug with his legs wrapped halfway around rogers hips (and does roger even fit in a normal person??? or is he just rutting desperately between rays sweaty thighs??? or can he only fit the tip and begs and cries about it the whole time???????? so many choices .) and teasing him with rogue while the demon king just babbles nonsense and whines and cries about how amazing it feels and how great they are and how much he wants them to be His . he Waaaaaaaannttss theeemmmmm đ„șđ„șđ„ș dragon hoard style and hes so happy. also most dedicated pussy eater on the sea until the day sabo is born
Roger is the most pathetic sloppy little bottom ever seen in demon history, but nobody would ever know of it bc theyre not Miss Rouge first light fallen from grace, Ace has no clue that it was actually Roger who got pregnant and ended up carrying him to term
Hes under the assumption it was Rouge which fair they dont correct him, but Roger wishes he hadnt grown so quickly he misses his baby boy!!!
Anyway youre right, Roger cannot fit inside a normal human like Rayleigh but they damn well try with just the tip
Rayleighs tryna encourage him to fit more but Rouge knowing that could kill him is hauling Roger back onto her fat dripping strap by the leather harness hes been squeezed into and by the length of his tail đ„° its so cute hes so wet and drooly and wanton about it like please please rayleigh i need you and rays petting him adoringly like ive got you lovely dont cry but rogers weeping aaawaw
And yes,,,, eventually Roger will be dethroned by the coming of Sabo, average human male, pussy eating champion this side of the veil, Ace can attest to that his demon cunt has been so empty đ lucky for him his human roommate has the guts and the girth to fill him right up :3c
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Hello!! I just wanted to come here and offer my thanks for blessing us with your masterpiece of a story. I have been reading it non stop for the past few days, literally unable to put it down, this is not an exaggeration đđ your writing is so outstanding and amazing!!! I said this in a comment already but i cannot stress it enough! I feel so pulled into the story when reading, like im really there and experiencing all these emotions. I cant believe i get to read this for free!! All your characters are so well fleshed out and well written, and even though i only started for sokka and zuko, ive fallen in love with every other character and their story. Im on the edge of my seat at the end of every chapter! Honestly one of the best things I've ever read, no joke. Im on chpt 22, and i cannot wait to see how it will all progress, its literally giving me the will to live rnđđ and i cannot thank you enough for writing this!!!! I can never find the right words to express how much i love something or how much excitement it gives me but i need you to understand that as soon as i wake up this story is the first thing on my mind. I cannot wait to read it. Thank you!!
Thank you for such a nice ask and such kind words! I am really glad you are enjoying the fic so much! It has been a bit of an obsession for me the past few years đ
And it is always lovely to hear people enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it!
Thank you for this lovely message! I hope you continue to enjoy the fic!
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