#What he did was straight up brave but we could all escape our problems by suiciding ourselves

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #23)

Alright, here we go with another angsty mess nightmare hospital chapter. 

So grateful to @not-a-space-alien, @kitn-underfoot, and @thegodmother007 for beta reading and giving me some awesome feedback!  

Chapter #23. Will our hero make it out of surgery and finally be done with this mess?

Previous: Chapter #22

Next: Chapter #24

Word Count: 8,904 Read Time: Approx. 60 mins

CW: adult language, extreme angst, dehumanization, infantilization, fearplay, injury, blood, surgery

Tag list: @gatlily @grbene @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007, @honey-olive, @bittykimmy13 ,@aceouttatime, @imvenusasaboy, @liminaldaze, @windshield-patent, @joxter-coded, @rosella35, @narrans, @rubeau-art, @littlescaryinternetguy, @jae-from-discord, @kitn-underfoot, @secretly-small, @writing-forever, @iinogongju, @tales-of-aestus

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

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A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #21: Malpractices

[Natalie’s POV]

My leg bounced feverishly up and down as I sat up, board straight, teetering on the edge of the hard, plastic chair. It’d been 47…. No, make that 48 minutes since he’d been taken away. I couldn’t help but worry. Who could blame me? It was the first time since I’d found him that we’d been apart and I didn’t know he was somewhere safe and sound. 

I pictured him making fun of me for stressing so much, like some overly protective mother hen. He had no problem standing up for himself, I knew that. But then, the image of his little face when he was plucked out of my hands came to mind: his clear, blue irises wide and glistening with fear. He was strong, devilishly smart and extraordinarily brave, but he was still so very, very small, and, as much as I knew he’d resent the accusation, he was, also, fragile. I pictured just how tiny his hand was, fingers spread as he squeezed the tip of my pinky, barely able to grip onto the whole of it. Alexander could hiss and spit all he wanted, but the tech that had taken him away could still pin him down with just one finger. 

But it was fine, right? They can’t run and operate a business with neglect and not be called out for it, right?? Was he all worked up for nothing? Was I? I mean, I couldn’t blame the little man…. Being handed off to strangers who were twenty times bigger, a hundred times stronger and not likely to explain just what they were going to do to him, would terrify anyone. They were just running tests though, right? I imagined they’d need to take his vitals and possibly x-ray his knee to see how damaged it was.

But it wasn’t that, alone, that had made him tremble from head to toe and cling to the fabric of my shirt…. He seemed convinced that they might hurt him, mess up his treatment, kill him. He seemed keenly aware that it’d happened before, which utterly broke my heart. 

For the past half hour, I’d furiously scrolled through every review site I could find, double and triple checking for any sign that something could be amiss. I found nothing. Just run-of-the-mill posts about treating a cat’s ear infection or resetting a parrot’s broken wing. Still, I couldn’t seem to drop this chilling sense of dread. It didn’t escape my notice that there was practically nothing in-depth about treating little people like Alexander in any of the reviews, just mostly animals. I chewed on the beds of my nails absentmindedly as I fought to stay calm. 

 My knee continued to bounce, the rubber heel of my shoe keeping time on the discolored linoleum tile. Why did I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach? It wasn’t just because the environment around me was cheap and dilapidated…. Was it because the doctor had been dismissive of him in his initial exams? The thing was, he was just right there, beyond that metal door. I could rush in there and pluck him up before they could call security. Maybe? I didn’t know. I had no idea what kind of labyrinth of hallways and doors and operating rooms laid beyond the metal threshold before me. 

The thought of him being afraid or in pain in any way, was unbearable to me. What if he needed me and I wasn’t there? What if he was trembling head to toe like he had just a little less than an hour ago, whimpering in my cupped hand? What if he was scared and all alone, right now, and all I was doing was just sitting here… waiting…. Had I let him down? Had I put him in danger by trying to get him help? 

Or was I just having some sort of savior complex because I felt this intense need to control the world around Alexander?

I knew I had the best of intentions, but still…. I felt this need to know exactly where and how he was at all times. I shuddered remembering when I’d plopped him down in a box and expected him to stay there all afternoon, or when I’d trapped him inside my bedside table drawer, all alone, because he’d hurt my feelings. Was this another instance of me being overly controlling? Was I underestimating him, even now? To me, he was such a breakable little thing, easily bruised by this world that was much too big for him. 

The way he’d clung to my fingers, the fabric of my shirt…. I’d never seen him so vulnerable and afraid before. I’d never seen him look so small before. I jumped to my feet, my heart in my throat. He was just beyond that door. I took a few steps forward, watching with fixated curiosity as the wavy and warped reflection of my figure mocked me in the metal surface like some kind of twisted fun house mirror.  What if I just checked on him? For a second? They wouldn’t kick us out for that would they? The tips of my fingers journeyed through the ever-shrinking gap between my body and the boundary separating him and me. In the next beat of my heart and bat of my eyelashes, the whorls of my fingertips pressed into cool metal. Just for a second. I just want to see his little eyes and know he’s okay. 

Before I could apply any pressure, the door pushed back. I had no time to react before the doctor and a tech, the same girl in the purple scrubs that had carried him off, burst through the threshold. All three of us jumped, startled by what we unexpectedly found right in front of us. 

The doctor had been the one to shove the door open, and now here we stood toe to toe. Had I noticed before how much taller he was than me? He was the first to wrestle his words into speech after the shock, “E-excuse me, Ms. Marquez, what do you think you’re doing?” We stood uncomfortably close, neither giving ground.

“Where is he?” My voice wavered in such a way that exposed how nervous I really was. I clenched my jaw, trying to pull it together.  

“There’s nothing to worry about ma’am…. Please, have a seat…” The words, meant to be reassuring, came from a voice I hadn’t heard very much before: crisp, coaxing, female. On my left, the vet tech was halfway through the door which she propped open with an elbow. I searched her bare hands, feverishly, for a shock of blonde bangs and blue eyes. They were empty. I panicked. 

 “Wait… w-where is he? Why’s he still back there? Is he okay? Is he all alone? Is he scared? I need to know he’s okay—“ 

 “Of course! Of course, you’re concerned. Don’t worry, he’s perfectly safe and comfortable. If you’ll just take a seat, Doctor Greene will be more than happy to answer any questions you might have….” Her smile was blindingly bright, her eyes shimmering and earnest. The doctor nodded along with her as she spoke, raising his brows expectantly in my direction, when she was finished. I froze. Was I being a complete idiot right now? Was Alexander perfectly okay and I was looking insane for wringing my hands over him? But then why wasn’t he back in my arms safe and sound? What did they need to tell me? I just wanted to see him. Before I could process, those disappointingly empty hands with their chipped, dark polish, were lightly resting on my shoulders, guiding me away from the door and back where I began, seating me in that hard plastic chair. 

 I stammered, “W-what’s wrong with him? Why won’t you bring him out here? All he needed was medicine for the infection, right?” As I hurled my volley of questions, the doctor, who I just now noticed had a file tucked under his arm and no longer sported his white coat, sat down and wheeled over to the examination counter, placing the file flat on its surface and resting his elbows so that his poised hands came to rest below his chin. As he did this, the tech settled in the back corner of the room, leaning against a cabinet in the corner halfway in front of the door that lead to Alexander. My pulse pounded away in my skull, that tan folder with its unknown contents burned a hole in my periphery as I stared into the veterinarian’s bespectacled eyes. 

 He cleared his throat as I gripped the rough underside edge of my seat, “First off, I want to apologize for the lengthier than usual wait time on our initial examinations. It’s nothing at all to worry about. I promise, your companion is in very attentive and focused hands, here. Isn’t that right, Nina?” The tech nodded in agreement, smiling again. Why did his tone shift ever so slightly when he included her in the narrative? “Now, to the matter at hand. Unfortunately, the damage is, well, worse than we thought…” my stomach dropped at those words. As he continued, he reached for the file between us, “If we take a look at these… Nina, if you will?” 

 He flipped the file open to reveal a paper splotched with deep, inky blacks and ghostly, silvery whites. I couldn’t tell what I was looking at. Nina stepped forward at his command, clutching the paper, she turned from me and flipped on the light box mounted on the wall to my left. 

She spoke as she worked, “Your little friend is awfully cute. I can tell he’s a little spitfire, though, too! But, hey, don’t worry, he just needed some gentle coaxing and he was the perfect little patient!” Why did my hackles raise at that? I had a hard time believing her. It wasn’t easy to get Alexander to do anything he didn’t want to. Was he really just scared enough to be docile for once in his life? That didn’t seem like the fiery little man I knew at all. 

 Before I could follow up with more questions, the room was cast into darkness, as she flipped off the lights and clipped up the paper on the illuminated display. Suddenly, the smoky shapes came in to clear focus in the backlight. It was an X-ray. It was his x-ray. I was looking at Alexander’s skeleton. My blood pumped faster in my veins, as my brow furrowed and I felt a tightness in the back of my throat. I couldn’t help but clamor to my feet to get a closer look. Because he was so small, he fit head to toe inside the image, the only part of him that was cut off was his left shoulder and leg on the right side of the display. That was him, his tiny little skeleton, blown up larger than life on a pitch black background. This image of him was at least four of five times larger than the real thing. Even then, how fragile those little bones looked! None of them were thicker than two fingers pressed together. My eyes went immediately to his right knee joint. I was no medical professional, but I didn’t need to be to see the sharp, black line that cut across his bone just above the knee. A complete break, not just a fracture. The blurry white mess that was his actual knee seemed to show how damaged it was. Poor little Alexander had been hobbling around on a broken leg? 

 With a grunt, the doctor rose from his seat and shuffled over to the display, “As you can see, the joint is severely damaged and there appears to be a significant break on the very base of the femur. Have you been allowing him to exercise? Put any unnecessary strain on it?” 

 “N-no. Not that I know of. I’ve been trying really hard to keep him still and off his feet as much as possible…” But it was anyone’s guess what he’d endured before I found him. He wouldn’t tell me anything. 

 “It appears the damage has been exacerbated by too much weight on the wound… wear and tear from strenuous over-use…” for some reason, he darted a glance at the black-haired tech, before clearing his throat, “In any case…. Nina, turn on the light, if you want it to heal right, he’ll need surgery to reset the bone and to flush out the infection, which has spread to a critical extent…” the room was flooded with blinding fluorescent light, once more, making me wince as my eyes fought to adjust and I struggled to understand him. 

 My world stopped as what he was saying finally hit me like a ton of bricks. I managed to stutter out just one word, “S-surgery??” I parroted it back like an idiot. The thought of his tiny little body being operated on by their comparatively massive hands sent shivers down my spine. 

 “Yes.” His response was simple and blunt, I stood, rooted to the spot, in shock, “Please sit.” As he beckoned for me to be seated he fetched the X-ray from its no longer illuminated display box and sat down, pulling a sharpie pen from the breast pocket of his scrubs, “So, we’d make an incision here, just above the break—“ he began marking the ghostly image of Alexander’s leg with the pitch black ink. I interrupted.

 “W-wait, wait, wait. Surgery? Are you sure there’s no alternatives? He can’t just, like, I don’t know, have a stint or something?” 

 The doctor’s exhale sounded almost amused as he removed his glasses to polish them on the bottom hem of his scrubs. “My understanding is you have no insurance. Is that correct?” 

 “…. Well, y-yes….”

 “I want to be completely honest with you. The fact of the matter is, this particular procedure will be costly without insurance. And, not only that, performing these kinds of operations on such small animals carries with it a significant risk—“

 “—He’s not an animal…He’s a person, just like you or me… he’s just littler, that’s all….”

 “O-of course! Of course he is! He seems very smart, too!” Nina was smiling brilliantly again. I clenched my teeth. I was beginning to dislike her.

 “It is my professional opinion that an operation will be necessary to save Alexander’s life. Now, I understand you may be hesitant, due to the upfront cost–”

 I snapped back, a newfound edge in my voice, “I don’t give a fuck what it costs, I just want him to be okay. Is that a clear enough answer for you? And, anyway, he should have some say in this. It’s his body, after all. Have you told him yet? Bring him here, and I’ll make a decision with him.”

 Another exchange of charged glances, and then a blunt response from the doctor, “Unfortunately we can’t do that.” 

 My heart was pounding faster and the room suddenly felt hot, I scowled and spoke through clenched teeth, on the razor’s edge of holding it together, “What do you mean you can’t??? You most certainly can. I have a right to see him. If he’s fine, like you say, then there’s no reason why you can’t let me talk with him, right now.” 

 The doctor leaned away from me, rolling his chair a bit further back, almost as if in a protective stance between myself and the door that continued to bar my way, “To clarify, what I mean is that would be a very bad idea. You see, in our experience, reintroducing the patient to…. The human they’re most familiar with after they’ve been properly acclimated and relaxed, will only serve to significantly agitate and generate an undue amount of stress for the patient right before major surgery. It is best to keep them calm and in one location prior to operating. You wouldn’t want to frighten him, would you?” 

 “Well, no, of course not, but—“ 

 “—and, as for his consent to the operation, we, of course, agree with you wholeheartedly, that your companion should have a voice, however, we, unfortunately, live in a world where only your signature is binding.” By the time he finished his speech, he’d rolled back to the edge of the counter opposite me. 

 I swallowed, my nervous system awash with adrenaline, my mind abuzz with fear and frustration. I just wanted to see him, to know he was okay, to hold him and never let him go again, “You say he’s just waiting back there? He’s not in pain? He hasn’t asked for me?” 

 The vet tech replied, her intended reassurance somehow unsettling to me, “Believe me, we made sure he was as relaxed as possible before we came in here to talk to you. He’s in no pain, whatsoever.” 

 “A-and there’s no alternative to keep him from having to go under?” 

 “Unfortunately, no.” It was her boss’s turn to reply. All I could think about was the look on Alexander’s face when he begged me not to let them put him to sleep. My chest tightened, the doctor carried on, “The infection is getting worse by the minute. It’s highly possible, if not probable, that if left untreated, it will develop into sepsis, which can lead to organ failure. In addition, he likely won’t walk again if the leg doesn’t have the chance to heal properly. He’s stable at the moment, but he needs to be treated now to prevent further complications…” I blinked hard, trying to settle the fire alarm fire blazing in the back of my skull. I gaped, like a fish, my eyes darting from my own hands, clasped tightly together, and back up to the doctor. 

 “I-I just want him to come out of this okay…” As I stammered, the tech fished for and offered me a document, flipping it open to a signature line, while the doctor offered me a hefty ballpoint pen from his front pocket. 

 “Then all you have to do is sign and date right here and we’ll get your little guy all patched up!” A painted nail tapped along the dotted line. I stared hard at the black blocks of text on white printer paper, but couldn’t make sense of any of them.

 It didn’t seem like I had any choice. He could die if something wasn’t done, and fast. My heart was thundering in my chest. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to help him. He was a fighter, he’d fight through this too. The least I could do was give him a chance. Then, when it was all done, I’d do everything I could to help him get back to normal as soon as I could hold him in my arms again. The sound of an impatient cough broke me from my train of thought. 

 “So? How would you like to proceed?” 

 I bit my lip, my head on fire. I reached for the pen, unable to think about anything other than those two frightened little eyes, “You promise me you’ll take good care of him? That you’ll be gentle? He-he means a lot to me. I don’t— I don’t know what I’d do if anything….” I choked on the words as my eyes welled. I cleared my throat to hold it down. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m holding him again and I know he’s safe and sound.” 

 “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Like we said, we think he’s just precious. It’s always such an honor to take care of other people’s companions. He’ll be back to normal in no time.” That blinding smile. Paper pushed forward. The pen, slippery between my clammy fingers. I swallowed, hands trembling, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. 

***************

I was floating, weightless, not quite alive, not quite dead. I felt nothing, I had no sense of my body, where I was in space, or time, for that matter. I was asleep, but dreaming in vivid color of nothing put velvety blackness stretching on for eternity. Who and what was I? I didn’t have the faintest idea. 

Then, as if honing in on some distant frequency, like sudden static from an alien satellite transmission, I heard a babbling of noises, coupled with a repetitive sound, like a beeping, that cycled at seemingly regular intervals.  

They were incomprehensible at first, these sounds, just irritants, loud and untranslatable. But slowly, slowly, this floating, weightless, thing that was and wasn’t me, whoever that was, began to stitch the sounds together into… words. 

Floating above my consciousness like some ethereal notes in some unknown symphony, I found descriptors for these sounds, or, I think they were called, voices? One sounded female, the other male. I couldn’t, at that moment, remember what those descriptors implied, but I, somehow, knew they were apt. As I floated along in darkness, those words began to form snatches of sentences. 

 The male was first, “Wait, wait, you actually said that?” 

Then the female, “Fuck yeah, I did. I was like, ‘Lady, your little dude literally could not be more relaxed’ and she was just all, ‘Oh, o-okay’. Like, I won’t lie, for a minute there I thought we were gonna have to call security, but she totally ate it up after a while…” 

“No shit?” 

“That’s the thing, Greene pegged her for one of those overly-concerned types. So, it wasn’t hard to build up the drama of it all. These little guys are, like, cash cows if we put them under the knife…”

“Really? Why? Cuz they’re basically the same as people?”

“Yeah. Dude, look I know you’re new and everything but did you not pay attention at all in school? You have to take a whole extra semester of classes just to be qualified to operate on ‘em. And, yeah, he’s still sorta in hot water from the shit that went down a few months ago, but, like, it’s not like Miss Worry Wart and her pissed off little chihuahua here, will ever know about it. I think Greene’s smart to go after the money. Anyway, he showed her how bad the break was and pushed her to go for it. Don’t tell Greene this, but I think the full break in his femur might be our fault. We might’ve been a little too rough– Don’t say a fucking word, Jason, you toyed with him just as much as I did…” 

More sounds accompanied my non-existence as I heard things I think I remember calling footsteps and the scraping of chair legs on a linoleum floor, a new gruff voice, male. Barking, commanding. All the while that same beeping sound, keeping rhythm like a… metronome? Was that the proper term? 

I heard words like scalpel, incision, stable, antibiotic. I had a sense I was once familiar with them. 

However, as the unknown length of time pressed on, my endless floating began to change. Numbness no longer permeated all around. I slowly began to sense that I was…. Lying down? That I was…. Cold? Very, very cold. Or was I hot? That rhythmic sound changed its beat, getting faster. I heard, “vitals shifting” from… one of those voices? Or all three? I knew, now, I had a body, even if I couldn’t feel it. Well, not all of it. 

As though waking from a dream, second by second, feeling returned. Like a kettle slowly rising to a feverish, shrieking boil, I too, began to feel a tingling, which turned into a hazy ache, that cascaded into a burning, a searing, an excruciating wildfire of pain exploding from my leg. The background rhythm was beeping like crazy now, inconsistent and frightening. The part of me I remembered as a chest was heaving up and down. 

Above all that, came loud, thundering, angry voices, like gods threatening to rent the sky in two with their rage. 

The gruff, male voice was accusatory, “How much, Nina? How much did you administer?” 

A female voice, high, defensive, “W-well, I didn’t wanna over do it! Look at him, he’s tiny!”

A third, panicked, “His heart rate is spiking, he’s destabilizing… h-he’s coming to!” 

“Nina, you have to tell me what you gave him or I’ll end up killing the little bastard. How much?” 

“Shit! I gave him 0.2 milliliters, okay??” 

The panicked male rejoined, “I told her that wasn’t enough, sir! I said—“ 

“Oh shut up, why don’t you? I can’t trust  either of you. It’s a simple fucking task… and you two still fuck it up—“ 

Like being suddenly and forcefully pulled from the quiet, rocking depths of the ocean to flounder helplessly on the deck of a boat, gasping for air and waiting for death, all medicinal haze was ripped away and I was fully aware, fully awake and fully alive to the absolute horror that was my situation. 

The sounds of my own screaming seemed separate from me, as I sat up, flailing, bloodshot eyes wide and twitching. I heard the voices of the creatures so much bigger than me up above. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, restrain him before he fucks this up!” 

 In one panicked, fear filled heart beat, I took it all in: blinding, painful overhead light, blue, monstrous tendrils, encased in latex, like some kraken with twenty powerful appendages instead of just eight, surrounded me. The human fingers were all so huge and overwhelming. There was something shoved down my throat, slick, clear, it snaked off to an unknown destination, on my chest, something adhesive, thick, stiff, with wires protruding from it, an electrode for an electrocardiograph, but seemingly for a much larger life-form than myself. Without hesitation, I pulled on the tube, but was barely able to wrap a fist around it before.. 

“Oh no you don’t, stay still!” Those disembodied fingers wrested it away from me and pinned me back down against the metal surface below. I didn’t want them to touch me, I had to get free. Snarling and screaming, I writhed and kicked, but that quickly came to an end when my entire body was suddenly wracked with a sharp, biting, fresh sensation: the most excruciating pain I’d ever felt in my life. 

“Shit.”

Through the tears welling in my eyes, I hazarded a glance down at my leg. What I saw there made me nearly pass out. 

 Blood was spewing, thick, red, hot, horrendous. My knee was all red, open flesh, slick and horrific. The source of this brand new pain? Still pinched between his fingers, the blade of the scalpel, massive, razor sharp, was buried in the flesh of my knee. I was screaming and wailing, trembling from head to foot. 

 Meanwhile, the man wielding the instrument of death above my head, simply scowled as though he’d found a bruise on his apple or a fly in his drink. He grimaced at his surgical tool in my leg like it was some mildly frustrating inconvenience that was interrupting his work. Planting a finger on my ankle and a thumb on my thigh, he pinched the handle of the blade and ripped it from my leg. My ears rang as my vision faded momentarily. 

 He replaced the bite of the scalpel with pressure from a thumb pressing a strip of gauze to staunch the bleeding, over his shoulder, he regarded his inferior, “Well, at least this one isn’t dead because of your little mishap. Where’s Lindsey? She’s the only person here I can trust to do anything right the first time.” 

 “Y-you put her on laundry…. Sir….”

 “Go get her.” The young man stared at his boss, with a dumbfounded expression, “That means now, Jason! Goddammit, I’m surrounded by idiots! As for you, Nina. This is the last straw. Pull this shit again and you’re fired. I’ve already got the AHA crawling up my ass about the last case. Go home, I don’t want to see you till Monday.” 

 “-But… I was just having fun with the little guy, I didn’t mean—“ 

 “Monday. 6 am. Got it?” 

 “You know this little fucker bit me? Maybe we shouldn’t waste all our time and effort and just put him down for aggressive behavior!” 

 “Nina, go home!” And with a dissatisfied sigh, she was gone from my field of vision. He spoke, but not to me, “I’m getting way too old for this shit…” I felt eyes trained on me for a split second, before the sound of a door squealing open, caused us both to turn our heads in its direction. 

 Lindsey practically ran in, Jason, seemingly with no sense of urgency whatsoever, following behind. 

 Breathless, the kind woman rushed over to where I lay. The man pressing his thumb into my open flesh, bellowed at her, “Lindsey, finally! I’ve staunched the bleeding. Clean up this godforsaken mess, intubate him, suture the site of incision, blah, blah. You know what you’re doing. I need a fucking cigarette… or ten. Come get me when it’s time for client delivery. Ah, and Jason…. You’ve proven today to be utterly useless, too. Go home and get out of my hair before you make my migraine any worse.” 

 The grumbling voices and movements of the men faded from my notice as the young woman with bright, hazel eyes stared down at me with true compassion. I was a pathetic mess, face streaked with tear stains, the plastic tubing thrust down my throat, half naked and trembling as my knee lay cut open and thoroughly rent. 

 “You poor, poor little thing. What’d they do to you? Are you in pain?” I nodded furiously, tears threatening to fall again. My breathing was ragged. Every muscle in my body ached. I didn’t have the energy to make noise anymore, let alone put up a fight. 

 “Of course you are. Okay, well I promise you I will help you. I’ll do everything I can to help. It’s Alexander, right? I’m Lindsey. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this, Alexander. Look at me, hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. You’ll be back home in no time. But first, I need your help, alright? Will you help me? I need to close up this wound here, so you can start to heal. But, that’s going to be extremely painful if you’re awake. Do I have your permission to put you to sleep so you won’t feel anything?” I jumped, snarling and shaking my head,  “I promise, I know how to do it correctly. You won’t wake up in the middle of it, this time. Look, here, I’ll show you exactly what I’m gonna do. You see your knee, how it’s still all cut open and exposed? I’m going to stitch that all back together, with one line down the middle and a horizontal line above your knee. You’ll have a “T” shaped scar once it heals. All the infection is cleared out and, hopefully you’ll regain full use of that joint after the bone in your leg fuses back. But I don’t know for sure, now that you got an abrasion from a scalpel on top of everything else. Hey, don’t squirm… try to lie still… I know you don’t know me, but I need you to trust me, okay? I wanna see you reunited with… What’s your friend’s name? Is it… Natalie?” I nodded, noticing how my heart fluttered and the machine with its beeping gave away the increase in my heartrate, “I wanna see you reunited with Natalie as soon as possible. You want that, too, don’t you?” I nodded, gritting my teeth through the constant pain, “I’ll make you another promise in return, okay? I won’t leave your side and I won’t let anyone else lay a finger on you until you’re back in Natalie’s hands. Do we have a deal?” I nodded sheepishly. Feeling utterly spent, but still completely terrified, I laid back down, flat on my back, and began counting backwards from one hundred to calm myself. 

 “Okay, Alexander, I’m turning on the anesthesia now. All you have to do is take a deep breath, in through your mouth and out, through your nose… Good, perfect. That’s perfect. You’re going to be okay, Alexander. Natalie’s waiting for you. It’s time to sleep, now… jussstttt relaaaaaxxxxxxx…” My eyelids felt extraordinarily heavy as her voice melted and faded. Then, within another cycle of breath, I was fast asleep. 

 ********************

 I’d long since chewed my cuticles to bits until I drew blood. I’d paced every square inch of this hellish little room that was starting to feel more like a cage than a waiting area. I’d driven the secretary crazy asking time and time again if they’d be done soon. Her flat, insincere, “Any moment, I’m sure” made my blood boil. I was about to tear my hair out at the roots when the squeal of the door made me leap to my feet and fly across the linoleum tiles.The woman who entered the room was a stranger to me. She came in pushing the door with her shoulder, her back to me, initially. As she turned around, I saw why she’d come in that way. Her hands were otherwise full with a tiny little body.

 He was cradled very gently in her cupped hands, completely unconscious. He lay there, peacefully, his knee wrapped thickly in a massive bandage of white gauze. I reached out for him immediately, “Let me! I have to hold him. Is he okay?” Wordlessly, she very carefully slid his limp little form from her hands to mine. I cupped both palms, trembling just to feel his skin on mine again. The second his tiny weight landed in my grasp, my eyes welled with tears. 

 He lay there, completely disheveled, his lips parted, his hair sticking up all over the place, his skin looked pallid and shiny from sweat. I cradled his little head on the pad of my pinky finger. The same one he’d squeezed before being carted off. The rest of him nestled safely in the hammock of my two palms pressed together, his heels resting just over the edges of my hands, balancing atop my wrists. I was so grateful just to hold him again, I leaned in and whispered, “Alexander. You’re okay. You’re coming home… I was so worried about you…” I rubbed his hair from his eyes, caressed his little cheek, traced his chin, rubbed his pecs and relished in the pounding of his tiny heart, all with the tip of my thumb. 

 I had forgotten for a moment that he and I were not the only ones in the room. I glanced up to notice the new vet tech standing politely, staring at the little man in my hands with an expression that mirrored my own. I cleared my throat, hurling a barrage of questions at her, “So? How is he? How’d he do? Is he going to heal successfully?”  

She seemed to hesitate at these questions. My pulse quickened as I watched her cast her eyes down, before meeting my gaze. I furrowed my brow, she cleared her throat, “… He, he was… incredibly brave. The good news is he should be free of infection and after a round of antibiotics, he will be back to normal. Um… However, the surgery involved… well, a little more trauma than expected…” 

“W-what? What does that mean?” 

She was hushed to silence as Doctor Greene chose this incredibly inopportune time to make his appearance. The second he walked in the door the smell of cigarettes wafted in with him. Did the tech’s shoulders seem to slump a bit when he entered the room? “I see you’ve already gotten acquainted with Lindsey…” he then whipped around to her and mumbled under his breath, “I thought you were going to tell me when you were ready to return him…” She didn’t say a word as he turned to me, his voice back to being chipper and light, “…And your little friend is back where he belongs. Wonderful. Now, as you can see, everything went just fine. He’s still under the influence of anesthesia at the moment, and it will likely take him several hours before he’s fully alert and awake again. Now I will tell you, when he does come to, it is highly possible that he will be disoriented and confused. He may not know himself or you at first. He may ramble on about half truths and hallucinations from his experience with us. This often happens. Their little brains get flooded and they become highly overwhelmed. They often exaggerate the details. Don’t worry if he acts a little skittish, or upset by the ordeal, they almost all do. We do everything we can to keep them calm, but it can still be frightening simply because they don’t understand. Just lay him in some dark, isolated place and he’ll quiet down soon enough.” I wasn’t going to put him in solitary confinement after one of the most traumatizing experiences of his life! He’d be right by my side until he made a full recovery. That was non-negotiable. 

I stared at his sleeping form in my hands. Alexander, his head was no bigger than the tip of my pointer finger. His hair stuck to his forehead in a sticky, sweaty mess, his little chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. I carefully slid him into one cupped palm, gently taking up his tiny left hand on the tip of my, now free, finger. Even in his unconscious state, his body fully limp, the weight of his hand, his arm, felt like nothing. 

Alexander, were they good to you? Are you going to be okay? What did she mean there was more trauma? I wish you’d open your little eyes and talk to me. I want to hear it from you, no one else. He, of course, stayed motionless. The doctor continued on, “I’ve filed a prescription for a round of antibiotics, as well as pain medication, those will stave off infection and help with recovery. Now, the bandages will have to be changed at regular intervals, and please don’t forget to wrap the sutures in plastic wrap before dipping him in water, otherwise you’ll be right back where you started. Keep the area as dry as possible and, of course, keep him from bearing any weight on it for the first four weeks. Speaking of…”

He began to fish in his pocket. I continued to stare at the sleeping little life taking refuge in my hands, my heart skipping a beat when his tiny hand flexed and squeezed my finger. I looked up long enough to see the vet reveal, in the flat of his palm, something sealed in a little plastic bag printed with labels that obscured what was inside, “Now, he, almost guaranteed, won’t need that walking aide long term, but just in case, or at least for those first few weeks, after the initial month off, he’ll have it. You can give it to some dollhouse enthusiast afterwards.” I reached for the tiny aluminum cane, approximately three inches long, and pocketed it, before caressing his bright, golden hair, “And, if you think he’ll try to mess with his bandages too much, these are highly effective at dissuading them…” He’d fished around in a drawer before offering something else in his outstretched hand. This time, it was a tiny little surgical cone. I set my jaw. Absolutely fucking not. He’d kill me if I put that on him. My disapproving sneer was enough to express my opinion on the matter, “Alright, then. Just a suggestion…. I have one more form that I’ll need from you for our exit paperwork and otherwise, Trisha should settle payment at the front desk.”

“You know he’s gonna tell me if you did something….” I tore my eyes away long enough to burn holes into his bespectacled ones. 

He raised his brows, smirking a bit in surprise, “Of course, miss. But, like I said, they come up with all kinds of fanciful tales when under the influence of medication. He’ll likely be quite disoriented and confused.” 

“You have no clue who you’re messing with, do you? If you so much as bent a hair out of place, I promise you, you’re going to regret it. He won’t hesitate to come after you.” 

A stifled chuckle and the clearing of a throat on his part told me what he thought about that. The tech just stared at the floor, clearly unamused. 

I raised a brow, challenging him, “Just wait and see what happens….” It was enough to make the veterinarian and his tech exchange a worried glance. Satisfied, I left that godforsaken room and checked out. It was a blur of curt interactions. I tried not to balk when the total was read aloud. I just wanted to get him home and away from this place. 

The drive home was drizzly, cold. It’d gone from morning to dusk since I’d first arrived, to now, as the hospital finally faded from my rearview mirror. As I drove, I cradled him with one hand against my pounding heart, caressing his head and chest with a thumb. 

 Returning home, finally, after picking up his medications, I collapsed on the bed, unwilling to let him out of my sight for more than the length of a single heartbeat. “You’re gonna be okay, Alexander. You’ll heal up, good as new. I’m right here with you, I’m not going anywhere, never again.” I stroked his head, his cheek, his chest. When I laid the length of my finger down on top of his body, he, as if from instinct, wrapped his tiny arms around it, just like he had the day I’d watched him sleep in my nightstand drawer. 

 I couldn’t help myself, my throat got tight again. Poor Alexander. He was such a fighter, a survivor, but at the end of the day he just needed a little bit of tenderness and love, like everyone else. I burst into tears, “You’re so sweet under all of it. You’re such a sweetheart. So small…. Look at you, look at how little you are. I can feel your tiny heart pounding away. What’re you dreaming about? Do you know you’re safe? Do you know you’re with me?”

 His brow twitched and I held my breath, hoping to watch him stir awake. But no, his little arms went limp again, one sliding off of my finger and landing, limply, by his side. I pinched his other wrist between the pads of my fingers and kissed the inside of his palm with careful lips, “You’re so brave. You’re so incredibly brave. Do you know that? I’m in awe of you. You’re so much stronger than I could ever be…And…I’m so sorry.” My chest hurt as my throat clamped down, the tears cascading down the planes of my face, “I’m sorry if you’re hurting. I never meant to hurt you. You have to know that. I wanted to help. I just wanted to help you get better. Please, please wake up. Alexander? C’mon, open your eyes. Please tell me you’re okay. Tell me that bad feeling I had was just a feeling and nothing more. Did I fuck up? Were you scared? Alone? Did you need me to come rescue you? If they hurt you, I’ll help you kill them and hide the bodies. I swear. I’ll help you make them pay. You deserve so much better than this, Little Nightmare. Let me help make it better. In whatever way I can. Please. Just wake up….” 

 I took his tiny hand and splayed it out on the tip of my finger. It was his left hand, his writing hand. Tiny little veins protruded from the back of it and along his forearm. His fingernails were hard to even see, slightly purple against the rest of his skin. The fingers were lithe, slender. He had ‘perfect piano playing hands’ as my mother had always called them. I adored this little hand. I rubbed the back of it, with an ever so delicate brush of my right thumb. You’re going to do great things with these hands. I know you will. 

 Almost as if on cue, he started to stir and twitch. My heart leapt to my throat, as I watched wide-eyed and breathless. I laid his little hand back down over his chest. I wasn’t sure if he’d be blitzed out from the drugs and think I was trying to grab him. His brow furrowed deeply as he tossed his head to the side. His whole body shivered and his little hands twitched and then relaxed. My heart was thundering away. Then, in a sudden rush, he opened his brilliant little eyes with a gasp, and stared up, directly at me. Good morning, Little Nightmare. 

 “Hello. How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Are you okay?” I spoke just above a whisper, trying to be as soft and comforting as I could. His brow furrowed as he listened to the timbres of my voice. He looked confused, his eyelids seeming far too heavy for him to keep open. He didn’t say a word, just blinked lazily, his little mouth slightly open, “Alexander? Talk to me. How do you feel?” 

 His eyes batted in rapid succession, he sucked in air, as if shocked, “You know my name???” Did he not even recognize me? Was he still disoriented like the doctor had mentioned?

 “Alexander? Of course I know your name…. Do you know mine? Do you know who—“ 

 He scoffed, blowing air through his lips, interrupting me. He did this far too loudly and for far too long, even after I’d gone silent. As he laid back in my hand, every muscle relaxed, his cheeks flushed, his jaw slack and his speech lazy as though speaking through a mouthful of cotton, that little know-it-all brain of his still managed to shine through, “Of course I know who you are! Easy…” he paused for a full five seconds, searching for the next word, “…peasy…” Oh my fucking god, this tiny man is still high off his fucking ass!

 He blinked, once, twice, three times, as he lifted himself up on an elbow. But he was barely able to do that before he came crashing back down with a little grunt, his head lolling a bit. I tried to stifle my laughter, reminding him to be careful. “No, nnno! D-don’t, don’t you laugh at me!” 

“I’m not! I’m not laughing at you, Alexander, I promise!” I protested, literally fighting to keep my composure as I spoke. 

His brow furrowed as he huffed, all the while pointing his little finger up at me, jabbing the air like a professional swordsman, “You are! You think I don’t know! B-but I’m nnot stupid! I know! I know exactly who you are! Ex-ac-tly!” He punctuated each syllable while his head lolled about and he blinked sleepily, “So don’t… don’t act like I don’t know! I do! I’d recognize you anywhere!!” Okay, little man, we get it. You’re right, I’m wrong, what’s new? Even high you’re always ready to pick a fight with me. 

 I’d gone from weeping over his limp little body, to biting back tears of laughter. He was entirely in his own little world right now. I couldn’t believe I was watching the same super serious, uptight, angry little bastard I’d come to know and love now rambling nonsense in his post-surgery daze. I tipped my chin, having way too much fun, “Oh yeah? Who am I, then, smarty pants? What’s my name??”  

“You…. You are unmistakably–  Mmmm, the air tastes funny…”  

“Alexander!” 

“Hmm??” His eyes were halfway to closing as he mumbled. Poor thing. He’d been through so much. I should let it go. 

“Never mind, forget it… you should rest—“ 

Then, with a sudden burst of energy that made me jump, he stared me straight in the eye and pointed up at me, “Arwen Undómiel!! Th-that’s… that’s your name…” He was grinning from ear to ear, absolutely delighted with himself for cracking the case. 

“I’m sorry… what?!” He thought I was a Tolkien elf. And he’d said it in perfect elvish, no less. The smartest man I’d ever met genuinely believed I was a fictional elf. Oh god, I hope he remembers this, so I can tease him about it later. I couldn’t help myself: I burst into laughter.

[iwasbored777]

Not y'all saying Marinette was dumb in Destruction. Like she bent over backwards and all Gabriel did was kill himself and that makes him smarter than her?!

Like I TOO didn't think he would actually activate that cataclysm, I TOO would think it's over because no one normal would do that. So leave her alone cuz I'm losing my patience here.

[soulmate-game]

Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

[nyxshadowhawk]

The Lady of the Labyrinth

My entry for @dionysia-ta-astika's City Dionysia contest! I'm very proud of myself for having finished it in a week, and I thought I'd share it here on my own blog.

Hail Dionysus!

*** Everything was lost. My brother was dead. My love was gone.

I was also stranded on a deserted island. I stared out at the vast, empty expanse of the sea. The sunlight on the waves winked at me with a thousand eyes, as though diamonds had been scattered across the surface of the water. Anyone would find this beach tranquil, I suppose, if they were here under different circumstances than mine.

My brother’s name was Asterion.

Most people didn’t know his name, or even that he had one. To most people, he was the Minotaur, a horrible monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull that eats people. Asterion was a monster, and he did eat people.

Beneath my father’s shining palace, he prowled the twists and turns of the Labyrinth that my father’s genius architect built. The Labyrinth was mine, once. Daedalus made it for me as a dancing path, when I was a little girl. But now it is a dark, disorienting maze of seemingly endless passageways, and I was still the only person who knew how to navigate it. When I could have time alone, I would go to the Labyrinth. I felt my way through its pitch-black corridors, memorizing the nicks and cracks in the rough stone, trying to calm my thoughts. I spoke to Asterion through the walls: “You have never seen the sun,” I said to him. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like in the outside world? Or do you like it down here?” I received no answer from the surrounding darkness. If I did hear something — a snort, or hooves on stone, I would have to run as fast as I could away from the sound. Even I couldn’t go too near Asterion — I wouldn’t want to run the risk that he might attack me.

“Why do you go down there?” My sister, Phaedra, asked me. “What could possibly be appealing about that dark, dismal place?”

“I like it down there,” I said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as I could. “It is peaceful. And I don’t mind the dark.”

She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted bull’s horns myself. “You know you risk your life every time you enter the Labyrinth, right?”

“He’s our brother,” I said. I don’t know what I intended to explain by saying that. I felt like I had a responsibility to him that extended beyond simply being his sister. I tried to see a man in him, although he sniffed and bellowed and charged like a bull. He could gore me to death like a bull, but I did not fear him. “I can’t say I love him, but I feel something.”

“You shouldn’t feel any sympathy for him. He’s a freak of nature. The gods cursed us with him for our father’s arrogance. He is a shame upon our kingdom.”

She was right, of course. The gods gifted us a beautiful white bull that we were meant to sacrifice to Poseidon, but my father decided to keep it instead. And Poseidon cursed us… Asterion is the unholy offspring of my mother and the bull. And it gets worse. Every seven years, seven young men and seven young women from the city of Athens were brought to the Labyrinth to be fed to my brother. This was because my other brother, whom I was too young to remember, died while in Athens. Athens pays for this slight with the lives of other young people.

I suppose it’s no different than war, or at least, that’s what my father says. All cities send their youths to die for the polis. How was this any different? I could hardly bear the prisoners’ wails of desperation or their pleas for me to help them. When I heard they were coming, I begged my father to set them free, asserting that it was wrong to sacrifice humans to anything. If the gods had cast Tantalus into Tartarus for feeding them his son, then why should we knowingly feed humans to a monster? He laughed at me and asked why I had no pride in my family.

I hated the thought of the fourteen young people being fed to him, but I also couldn’t imagine killing my own brother, even if he was a monster.

I was too young to remember the last time the prisoners came to the Labyrinth. They had come, and my brother had gorged himself on their flesh, and I was none the wiser. This time, I knew, and the horror of it struck me silent as the tributes were paraded through the city like animal sacrifices to the gods, so that we could all see those who were doomed to die. I could hardly bear to look at them. Some of those girls were barely older than me. It felt wrong to sit by and watch as they were brought to the Labyrinth. But what could I do to save their lives? Supplicating my father would not work, and the only other option was helping them to escape, somehow. How could I do that?

In spite of myself, I caught sight of one of the young men. He was handsome, and he had a defiant, blazing look in his eye. He looked straight at my father on his throne. “I am Theseus of Athens!” he declared. “I have come to slay your monstrous son!”

My father had laughed at him, but he consumed my thoughts. That may be because he was absolutely gorgeous, but it was also because if he succeeded at killing Asterion, he would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t have to take my own brother’s life, but he would devour no more innocent lives. And, if this youth survived, he might take me away with him. I knew the Labyrinth better than anyone. Even if he did survive, he could never make it in and out without my help.

Forgive me, Asterion.

The prisoners were held in two dank cells near the entrance to the Labyrinth. The women were kept in one, and the men were kept in the other. Many of the prisoners were crying — not just the women, but the men, too. In my familiarity with the Labyrinth and its inhabitant, I had forgotten just how terrifying both would be to anyone else. The Labyrinth’s darkness and maddening complexity would intimidate anyone, and the prospect of being eaten by a monster within its depths was horrific.

Only Theseus seemed calm. His boldness in front of my father hadn’t been an act. His jaw was set, and he still had raw determination in his steely eyes. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he? He actually meant to kill Asterion. He shone like gold in the gloom of the dungeon — he could have been Apollo. If our circumstances were different, I might have wanted to stroke his chest. “Who are you?” he demanded when I approached the cell, as though I were the one behind bars, and had requested an audience with him.

“I am Ariadne,” I said, “daughter of Minos, princess of Crete.”

“I am Theseus, son of Aegeus, prince of Athens,” he returned.

Prince of Athens. That explained his noble bearing and proud mien, not to mention his handsome features… and yet… “There is no way the King of Athens would have sent his own son to be fed to the Minotaur,” I said. “Why are you really here?”

“I said, didn’t I? I’m here to slay the Minotaur. I volunteered as tribute.” He smirked. “I promised my father that I would return alive. No more of our people will be sacrificed to the monster!”

“You speak with a lot of confidence for someone who is currently in a prison cell,” I said. “What are you going to do, Theseus? Do you have a plan?”

“Of course I have a plan!” he said, a little defensively. “I am going to break out of this cell. And then I will conquer the Labyrinth—”

“How? You’ll be dead of starvation before you even reach the Minotaur, assuming he doesn’t find you first.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you taunting me?”

I leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes. “No. I was actually going to offer to help you. I know the Labyrinth. I go into it all the time.”

“No, you don’t. You’re trying to get me to sleep with you. Or trying to deceive me on behalf of Minos.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find anything to say in response to that. For a moment I just stared at him. Was he always this self-assured, even in the worst of circumstances? If he wanted to sleep with me, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but why would he assume that I would deceive him? Well, perhaps it was his right to be suspicious, in a strange land where he was kept as a prisoner. “I… no,” I finally replied. “I’m being serious. I’m here to help you.”

“Why, then?”

“I think it is very noble of you to want to save the other Athenians, and I agree that no more innocent lives should be lost.”

He smiled slightly, but still looked suspicious. “You have no loyalty to your father?”

“My father is cruel and selfish. Why else do you think my mother gave birth to a monster, anyway?”

“The monster is your brother? What was his father, a bull?”

“Yes.”

That seemed to have stunned him into silence. I felt some satisfaction at that. “Listen to me. Without my help, you will not get through the Labyrinth. If you want to kill the Minotaur, you need me.”

“What’s the catch?” he asked. “You’re going to want something in return, aren’t you? What?”

“Take me off this accursed rock,” I said. “I am sick of Crete, I’m sick of my father, and I don’t want to have to put up with whatever punishment he might give me for helping you.”

“Well, you are a princess, and I suppose you would make a fine bride for me.”

My heart leapt at those words, and I felt myself blushing. Perhaps I should have known better. “Really? You would marry me?”

“If you help me to slay the Minotaur, then yes, I will marry you.”

“Deal.”

Theseus remained in my thoughts from that point onward. When I closed my eyes, I saw his face, and I imagined the feel of his skin. I’d never seen a man like him before, and oh, if I married him… would I be happy? Happier than I was here, at least? He seemed like the kind of man that Phaedra and I dreamed we would marry as young girls — strong, brave, handsome, and willing to put himself on the line for the sake of his people. All such admirable qualities.

I returned to Theseus when the prisoners were locked into the Labyrinth’s abyssal maw. “Everyone else, stay back!” he ordered, as though he were directing troops. “I will go into the Labyrinth and kill the Minotaur. Stay here, and you will be safe.” He suddenly turned to me. “What have you brought to help me?”

I held out a humble ball of yarn. “This.”

He took it from my hand and raised an eyebrow at it, looking as though he might throw it into the dark. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Daedalus gave it to me when I first started exploring the Labyrinth.”

“Daedalus? I’ve heard of Daedalus. He is supposed to be the most brilliant architect in the world, right?”

“He built this Labyrinth, and he gave me the yarn. All you have to do is tie the end here and carry it through the maze. Then you can follow it back out.”

Theseus looked impressed. “He must be a genius to have thought of something like that!”

He may have been a genius, but I was still intelligent enough to figure it out on my own. All Daedalus had done was hand me the ball of yarn, and I immediately understood what I was meant to do with it. But I didn’t bother correcting Theseus. “Do you have a weapon?”

“No,” said Theseus. “I’m not worried. I’ll kill the beast with my bare hands.”

I blinked at him, dumbfounded. I suppose if anyone could do it, he could; he was almost as musclebound as the bull-man. But still. Only an extremely impressive hero with divine lineage could hope to kill a monster bare-handed, that or a total idiot. “You are going to die.”

“Nonsense!” He smiled. “Haven’t died yet! And I have faced many deadly trials before.”

I smiled back. “I’m sure you have, but, well, it’s your funeral.”

“Do you want this monster dead, or not?” he demanded.

“Woah, I wasn’t being serious, I…” To be asked that question point-blank was unsettling. It threw my whole dilemma into focus. But seeing the terrified faces of the other tributes huddled naked in the entrance to the Labyrinth gave me my answer. “Yes.”

“I shall go then.” He tied the yarn to the gate and strode with it into the dark. I admired his confidence, even if the odds were against him. He turned the first corner, and was gone. I stared into the darkness for a moment.

One of the girls gripped the hem of my dress. “Please,” she whispered. “Please help us, my lady. We did nothing to be here. If he dies, will you help us escape?”

I didn’t look at her. I kept staring into the Labyrinth’s depths. “I will do what I can,” I said slowly. Then I followed Theseus. I heard her gasp behind me, as if her last hope had just walked away.

I overtook Theseus quickly. He was moving slowly, blindly hitting walls and getting disoriented by the serpentine turns. He jumped when he heard me behind him, turned on his heel and braced for attack, staring me down with the intensity of a bull about to charge. Then he softened. “Oh. It’s you. What are you doing here? I don’t need your help.”

“I know this place better than you do,” I said matter-of-factly.

He huffed in response. “Get back to the entrance. The Minotaur could arrive at any moment.”

I walked ahead of him. “I know. Every time I explore the Labyrinth, I risk death.”

“Why would you explore this place?” he asked, following me. “What could it possibly offer a girl like you?”

“Peace. Solitude. Time away from my father.”

“This Labyrinth is maddening!” His growing frustration echoed off the walls. “How are you not mad? Perhaps you are mad, with the things you say.”

“I’ve never considered that I might be mad.”

“Only if you were mad would you willingly choose to be in this dark prison.”

“You willingly chose to be here.”

He had no response. We walked in silence for a while, dragging the thread behind us. It was almost impossible to see the thread in the dark. I could tell that Theseus was starting to get agitated. The twining paths of the Labyrinth must be making him feel like we were making no progress. The grim silence and high stone walls made us feel completely cut off from the outside world, like there was no world at all beyond the Labyrinth. “Do you think this is what Hades is like?” he asked. “A deep cavern, under the earth, where there is nothing to do but walk endlessly?”

I couldn’t tell whether that was a sincere philosophical question, or whether he was asking indignantly. “I don’t know. The Fields of Asphodel are supposed to be open, and full of the white flowers… Not quite like this.”

“It makes no difference to me anyway. I will assuredly go to Elysium when I die, and it is the most agreeable part of Hades.”

If Hades is exactly like this, I thought, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. There are worse things than this.

Eventually, we passed the point where I usually turned back. I had never gotten this close to the center before. And then we heard it — the unmistakable sound of hooves. Cold terror gripped me. I did not expect to feel this afraid, especially not of my own brother, but the reality of the situation sank in. We were in a Labyrinth with a flesh-eating monster, and the exit was too far away for any chance of escape. Why did I follow him? Why did I think that was a good idea?

“Our quarry is upon us! You should leave,” said Theseus sternly. “The monster eats the maidens first, so I hear.”

The instinct to run left me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Suit yourself, but you will not be able to fight against the Minotaur.”

“You will protect me, will you?” Being with him felt safe, like he was a bodyguard.

“I will.” As soon as he said that, my fear was banished, and my confidence restored.

A few more turns, and we reached the center of the Labyrinth, a place I figured I’d never enter. In the gloom, I couldn’t actually see much, but I was able to see the hulking shape of my brother with his huge bull’s head and wicked-looking horns.

“There is the beast!” A light suddenly blazed to life beside me, and I cringed away from its brightness. It was a torch.

“Did you have that the whole time?”

“I was saving it!” He handed me the torch and the end of the yarn, and I took them, nonplussed. I saw the floor of the Labyrinth’s center, full of human bones. “Wait there, I will make swift work of this!” Theseus took a fighting stance, muscles tensed.

Asterion looked at me. I felt blind panic grip me, but he did not attack me. Perhaps he recognized me. He must have been familiar with my presence and voice by now, enough to know I wasn’t a threat. I stared into his black bull eyes. They were soft, not fiery and enraged. This was my brother. “Asterion… I’m so sorry, Asterion.”

“What are you doing? Get back!”

Theseus’ yell attracted Asterion’s attention. He roared and rushed forward with his powerful legs, horns lowered and ready to gore him to death. Theseus grabbed Asterion’s horns and hurled himself up onto the Minotaur’s back, holding him in a chokehold with both arms. “I shall send you to the pit of Tartarus, fiend!” Asterion thrashed and bucked and slammed Theseus against the wall, but soon enough, it was over. Theseus had strangled the Minotaur. Asterion lay dead.

Theseus picked himself up, looking exhausted but triumphant. “Victory! No Athenians will die today, or ever! This monster will never claim another human life!” He grinned at me. “See, I told you I could do it with my bare hands!”

I stared at the mass of Asterion’s body. “I killed my brother…”

“Nonsense!” Theseus took the torch back from me. The bones crunched under his feet as he walked. “It is hardly your fault that you are the sister of a beast. We have done a good and heroic thing today. Look, look at the bones! Why are you crying, Ariadne?”

I suddenly looked at him instead of the Minotaur’s corpse. I don’t think he’d said my name before. Even in the dim torchlight, he still looked bright, with clear eyes and golden hair and bronze skin slick with sweat. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Ariadne.” He smiled at me. “Thank you. Together we have saved many lives.”

He kissed me, and the torch went out.

The following events were a blur. After we had successfully followed the thread out of the Labyrinth, Theseus triumphantly announced to my father that the Minotaur was dead, and demanded me and my sister as prizes. My father was furious — of course he was. He had essentially just lost all of his children, and all because one had died in Athens before I was old enough to remember. I, however, was elated, and so was Phaedra. Phaedra was as eager to leave Crete as I was, and she seemed just as taken with Theseus’ handsomeness. She didn’t seem distressed that Asterion was dead, and why would she? The grateful Athenians went back to their ship, many of them sobbing with relief. I didn’t look at my father as I followed Theseus to the ship. I never wanted to look at him again. We passed by Talos, and I left Knossos and the Labyrinth behind me.

Crete faded into the horizon, and before me was sunshine and new possibilities. Theseus glowed with triumph and pride, smiling at me and kissing me when he announced to the other Athenians that he would marry me, and that I would become their queen. They fell to their knees and showered me and Theseus with gratitude for having saved their lives. I felt almost as if I were a goddess. Wine flowed freely in celebration, and I took more joy in it than I had in a long time.

It did not last long. Soon after the first few hours I was, if possible, even more miserable on Theseus’ ship than I had been in Knossos. I quickly became tired of his boasts about how he had strangled the beast, without crediting me at all, or so much as mentioning the ball of yarn, even though the other Athenians had seen me give it to him and seen me follow him into the Labyrinth. Every time he told the story, it got further from the truth, and emphasized his own heroism over mine. Is this how it would be when I was queen? No matter what I did, I’d be shunted to the side? Then, Theseus seemed to be doting on Phaedra. She usually attracted more attention. She was prettier than me. She had blond hair that shined in the sunlight and the bright eyes of our mother Pasiphae, the daughter of Helios. My hair and eyes were dark, like the Labyrinth.

I left the celebration, finding a quiet spot on deck. I sat by the edge of the ship, staring out into the open waves and trying not to think about Asterion, but the image of him lying dead in the torchlight haunted me. “Are you okay, Ariadne?” Phaedra asked me. “What is wrong? We are finally out of there, all thanks to you! No more Minotaur, no more tributes having to die, no more Father… We will have a new life in Athens.” I stayed silent. “You look despondent. Something’s wrong.”

I looked up into her eyes. “It’s like you said, Phaedra. Asterion is dead.”

“Do you… mourn him?”

“He was our brother, and I killed him!”

“Theseus killed him! You did nothing!” I knew that she meant to reassure me, but it touched a raw nerve.

“He would not have if I hadn’t led him straight to the center of the Labyrinth!”

“Ariadne…” Phaedra put her hand on my shoulder. “You… you’re… you’ll be okay. You are just a little bit disoriented.” She left me alone.

I looked at the Athenians, who laughed and danced and celebrated their lives. I didn’t feel like dancing. I already missed the Labyrinth. My guilt drew my thoughts back to Knossos. I wanted to hide in the Labyrinth forever, like Asterion had, or else throw myself into the sea for my guilt. The brightness of the waves was glaring compared to the soothing darkness of the Labyrinth.

Theseus approached me from behind. He had been ignoring me until now, maybe because I was so sorrowful. I could feel that he was angry at me, and my skin crawled, but I didn’t turn. “What cause do you have to weep, Ariadne? You should be happy!” he said.

“I am sorry, Theseus. Part of me still mourns for my brother.”

“What is the matter with you? All you have done is sit and stare at the water! If you loved that Labyrinth so much, perhaps you should have stayed there! Now please, put this sorrow behind you. You have no cause for it.” He sighed, softening. “When we arrive in Athens, we shall marry, and there will be much rejoicing.”

“Leave me alone.” The bitterness in my voice rang louder than I’d intended.

He scowled at me.“You are joyless, passionless, and thankless,” he spat, and stalked off. The word useless went unsaid; I could tell he was reconsidering making me his wife.

“Theseus, wait!” I yelled, suddenly sounding desperate.

I stood up, and he turned back to look at me, and I felt as if I were naked under his gaze and that of the others on the ship, which had all quieted and turned in my direction. His eyes were cold, and his nostrils flared just as Asterion’s had. “What, Ariadne? You have shown me neither gratitude nor pleasure, you have not acted like a princess. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Shamed, I said nothing. I sat back down. Then, as he was about to turn away again, I suddenly found my voice. “Why are you being cruel?”

“I am not being cruel. You are being difficult.”

By the time we reached Naxos, I was feeling heartbroken as well as grief-stricken. Theseus was giving me the silent treatment. I think he expected me to come running to him begging for forgiveness. We stopped on the island to rest, primarily because Theseus had dreamt that he would stop here during his homecoming.

I took off my sandals and walked along the edge of the surf to clear my thoughts. The beach was bright and wide and open, the exact opposite of the Labyrinth. Even in the sand, I felt his heavy footsteps approaching behind me. “Ariadne, we need to talk.”

I continued to face away from him. “What?”

“Ariadne, I find your attitude disagreeable.”

I turned on my heel to face him, planting myself in the sand. “I’ve found your attitude disagreeable! All you have done since we left Crete is boast about your heroics, and you’ve barely given me any credit—”

“Credit! You want credit for having slain it, when all you have done is cry over the hideous thing?”

The disdain in his voice stung me like arrows. “You don’t care at all for me or my feelings, do you?”

“If you were to become my queen, I would expect better behavior from you.” He sounded like he was lecturing a child.

“Well… I don’t want to be your queen! You are almost as bad as my father!”

“Good. I have already decided to take your sister Phaedra as my bride instead.” I didn’t reply. “You may still return with us to Athens, but we will have to make other arrangements for you.”

Forget Athens. I didn’t want Theseus to do anything for me. “Oh, forgive me for having been such a disappointment to you! Go ahead, go back to Athens and marry my sister! By Zeus! I’ve had enough of you!”

And I ran. I turned away from Theseus and ran down the beach until my legs gave out, falling in the sand to sulk and wonder where it all went wrong. I regretted having ever met Theseus, or helped him to kill my brother. If I could undo it all, I would. No. Then innocent people would have died. Oh, gods, why am I so wretched?

And then, as I was just beginning to calm down, I saw that the ship was sailing away over the waves. I was stranded on the island. Despair and panic crashed down upon me. Oh gods, gods, why? Had I somehow been forgotten about, or left behind on purpose? Had Theseus doomed me to die? “CURSE you, Theseus!” I screamed at the distant ship. I watched it go until it disappeared over the horizon. I could do nothing but hopelessly stare at the wine-dark sea as the sun set.

“Excuse me, why are you crying?”

I had been sitting with my head in my arms, weeping despondently, and I was startled by the sudden voice, soft though it was. I was certain the island was deserted, but now, a young man stood before me. He was silhouetted against the sky, the sun shining behind his head like a halo. Where had he come from? I hadn’t heard him come. It was though he’d simply stepped out of the sea.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded cracked from crying. “I thought I was alone.”

“May I sit with you?” the man asked. “You look like you could use a drink, something to soothe you, hm?”

“Yes… yes, thank you.”

He sat down in the sand next to me, languidly stretching his legs out in front of him like he was sitting on the plushest couch. With the sunlight on him, I could see him properly — he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life. He easily put Theseus to shame. His eyes were leafy green, warm and kind. He was lithe, and his skin looked as pale and smooth as a girl’s, and his lips looked so soft. I couldn’t place the color of his hair — it seemed to be dark brown, but it could have been as dark as the Styx, and when the sun caught it, it looked honey-gold. It fell over his shoulders in loose curls. He wore nothing but a fine purple cloak draped over one shoulder, a golden leopard skin around his waist, and a wreath of ivy on his head. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a bright, easy smile. He was so lovely, so breathtaking, it almost hurt to look at him. With delicate hands, he offered me a kylix brimming with wine. “Please, tell me what has made you so upset.”

I blinked at the kylix, and the leopard skin, and the ivy in his hair. “Are you… a Bacchant?” I’d heard of them. They worshipped a mad and savage god with drunken orgies in the woods, and were said to be able to rip animals or even people limb-from-limb in their frenzy. Not unlike Asterion, I suppose.

He flashed a devious smile. “Maaaaybe.”

I took the kylix and drank deeply. The wine was sweet, and somehow, I felt immediately calmer. Slowly, amid my lingering sobs, I told the story — about Asterion, and my father, and the tributes, how I’d decided to help Theseus, how we’d found our way through the Labyrinth, how Theseus had killed Asterion, how Theseus had been so heartless, and how he had apparently left me to die on a deserted island. By the time I finished talking, the kylix was empty.

“How do you feel now?” he asked me.

“Better… I think. But I’m still devastated, and… guilty. My brother’s death… it was really my fault, and I don’t know if I did the right thing or not. Do you think it’s wrong for me to grieve for my brother? I mean… he was a monster…”

“No. I don’t think it’s wrong. It is perfectly understandable that you would mourn your brother.”

“If I had let the Athenians die, I would have mourned for them, too.” I sighed.

“Yes. There must be blood; one sacrifice was traded for another, Asterion, the worthy bull. It is okay to grieve, for as long as you need to, but do not wallow in despair.”

“I tend to do that. I don’t remember the last time I was completely happy. I thought Theseus would make me happy, but… then… I wish I had my Labyrinth back! It was at least soothing down there.”

“It pains me to see people sad,” he said. He handed me the kylix again, and it was once again full of wine. I hadn’t seen him fill it. “Pleasure is a state of mind. The best way to rid yourself of sadness is to focus on things that make you happy. There is always something to take pleasure in! Like the beauty of the sunset, or the sound of the lapping waves. Or wine!”

“Not when you are abandoned to die, with no way off the island,” I said. “How did you get here, anyway? I don’t see a boat.”

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, with that same mischievous smile. That smile and the teasing sparkle in his eyes were so adorable. His beauty is something to take pleasure in, I suddenly thought, and his company, and kindness…

I took another draught of the wine. “Why are the gods so cruel to me?” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

“The gods are not cruel to you.” He stated it with complete confidence, as though it were an undeniable fact, not as though he were trying to convince me.

“It certainly seems that way,” I replied.

“Life can often seem that way, but then, it gets better, and you will find that the gods favor you,” he said.

“Well… I suppose that must be true, if handsome strangers pop out of nowhere to comfort women.”

He beamed. “Exactly!” He took the kylix back from me, threw his head back, and drained about half of it in one gulp. “You know, I was stranded on a desert island like this one once.”

“Wait, what? You were?”

“Yes! It was a long time ago now, but I was just as pretty back then, and just as fond of wearing purple. Purple is the best color, you know.” He winked. “Anyway, so I was lying asleep on a beach and—” he took another swig of the wine, “a pirate ship rows by…”

“Are you drunk?”

“Always, darling!” That roguish grin of his was really starting to win me over. “Anyway, the pirates saw me sleeping on the beach, saw how pretty I was and saw my fine purple robes, and thought I was a prince. Well. They weren’t wrong… I technically am a prince of Thebes, on my mother’s side.” He laughed like he had just told the most hilarious joke and had another sip of the wine. The amount of wine in the kylix never seemed to get any lower.

“Does that mean… you’re a bastard?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yes, yes it does! I’m such a bastard. I mean… I was born out of wedlock. And my father’s wife, oooh, she hates me.” Another sip of the wine. “Never get on her bad side if you can help it.” He pointed at me as if this was the most important information I could ever learn, and I laughed. “She can’t touch me now, but she drove me mad when I was younger. Literally. Anyway, so these pirates kidnapped me. Thought I’d make a damn cute catamite, and I certainly would, but that’s beside the point. You don’t and kidnap boys no matter how pretty they are. I tried to tell my dad that, but it didn’t go over well.” Another sip of the wine.

“You are slender, but I bet you could take Theseus in a drinking contest.”

“Oh, I could take aaaaaanyone in a drinking contest! Never lost one yet!” His face was glowing, not just with blush from the wine but also with infectious joy. I slowly forgot about my misfortunes as I listened to his story. “So they tried to tie me to the ship’s mast, but found they couldn’t do it. I only tolerate bondage on my own terms. And then…” There was suddenly a mad gleam in his green eyes. “I covered their ship in grapevines, and ivy, and flowers, and the delicious smell of wine. I can’t imagine why such delightful things frightened them so. But I thought I’d scare them more, see, because it was funny. So I turned into a lion! And they flung themselves overboard in fear!” He laughed, and his laugh sounded as musical as flutes on a clear morning, but it had a maddened edge to it. “But I pitied them, y’know?” he continued. “Just as you pity your brother. So I changed them into dolphins. So they wouldn’t drown.”

“You changed… you turned into… did… did your god give you those powers? Or… are you just… really… drunk?” But I knew. I think that intuitively, I knew the whole time.

“Easy,” he said, once again raising the bottomless kylix to his lips with that knowing smile. “I’m really drunk.”

At this, I burst out laughing, and my laugh sounded almost unfamiliar to my own ears. I felt light, carefree, replenished. And then it sank in, that I was speaking to a god. I hastily knelt, and dropped my head before him, although he was still sitting next to me. “Lord Dionysus! Son of Zeus! Lord, lord, thank you for coming to me, for talking to me, for relieving me of my pain, for freeing me from my suffering…”

“You’re welcome, Ariadne.” He lifted my face, so that I was staring up into his eyes, which were now vivid reddish-purple, the color of ripe grapes. A richly purple aura surrounded him, proclaiming his divinity. In his hand was his staff, a fennel stalk topped with a pinecone that dripped with honey, twined with ivy and purple ribbons. And he had horns, bull’s horns just like my brother’s, magnificent and deadly sharp. They curved up above his brow, as much his crown as the wreath of ivy in his hair. The imposing horns created a striking contrast with his delicate features, but they looked right, somehow. Like this was how he was supposed to look.

I didn’t know what to say. My mind had gone suddenly blank. “I’ve never known great Dionysus to have horns,” I blurted.

“Not many get to see them,” he said, his voice suddenly slow and solemn. “Ariadne, will you dance with me?”

Whatever I had expected him to say, it was not that. “Wh—what?”

“Dance with me!” He stood up and twirled off across the beach. His hair floated around his shoulders, the ribbons on his thyrsus arced through the air like the rainbow, and his expression was one of elation. He screamed in ecstasy, and it was an inhuman sound, like the crowing of some unearthly bird. At that, the air filled with cacophonous music — flutes, drums, cymbals, rattles, castanets.

A command echoed inside my head. No, not a command — a compulsion: DANCE! DANCE!

So I danced with the bull-horned god. “Dancing” barely even begins to describe what I was doing. I was filled with an overwhelming, indescribable feeling, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Like I was about to be lifted out of my own shoulders! I moved like my body was doing everything it could to express this ineffable thing inside me that was so much bigger than me. I spun, I leapt, I ran, I stamped my feet in the sand, I moved wherever the feeling took me. It burned like fire. And Dionysus was all I could perceive. I screamed with both intense rapture and pure, genuine worship: “EUOI! EUOI! EUOI!”

I met his eyes, and there I saw all the raw ferocity of a bull or a great cat, as well as chaos and lust and debauchery and pure mania. All the forces strong enough to tear a person apart! I desperately thirsted for something I could not name. It was more than wine, more than flesh, more than blood. Dionysus took me in his arms, and kissed me on the lips. Passion overtook me.

Maybe I fainted in exhilaration, or maybe I was simply too drunk to remember. All I know was that I was eventually awakened by the sunrise and the sound of lapping waves. And Dionysus… was still there. He hadn’t disappeared into the night, he was still sleeping there in the sand, looking blissful and alluring in his sleep. His tousled curls tumbled over the sand, his soft hand was upturned beside his head, and his lips were parted invitingly. He lay on his purple cloak, and was using the leopard pelt like a blanket, though it was only carelessly draped over his waist.

“Lord… thank you for not leaving me,” I whispered.

His long eyelashes fluttered, and then his eyes opened, once again appearing vine-green. “Mmmm… sleep well?”

“Yes.” I desperately wanted to kiss him, and the seductive look in his eyes tempted me. “May I… touch you?”

“Darling, you may touch me anywhere you like,” he purred. Ravenously, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressed my chest to his, and our lips met. He still tasted like wine, and I drank him in the way I would wine. We lay there for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms like grape and ivy vines, idly caressing each other’s skin and hair.

“M’lord…” I whispered, “perhaps it might be impertinent to ask, but… what am I going to do now? I can’t go home. I don’t really want to go to Athens. And I still have no way off this island.”

“Why, Ariadne,” he gave me a teasing smile. “If I may be so bold, I hoped you would join me! In fact… I hope you might marry me.”

I was so taken aback by this that I immediately sat up. “You… you’re serious? Marry you?” I knew that gods frequently took mortal lovers, but this was unimaginable. “Actually marry you?”

“Yes, Ariadne. I love you.” He said it with the same sweetness and sincerity that he initially approached me with. Theseus had said no such thing. “You are not destined to become queen of Athens, but perhaps you might be my queen, if you are willing.”

I burst into tears, but they weren’t tears of sadness this time. They were tears of overwhelm, the same kind of overflowing sensation that I’d felt while dancing. “You love me?”

“I am absolutely besotted, my darling! I have had many lovers, but I had not fallen so madly in love since Ampelos, my first love, my darling vine.” A grapevine appeared between his fingers and twined up his arm. “Perhaps something in me is inclined towards mortals over gods, which is understandable, given my parentage. But, that should be no problem. I will bring you to Olympus, and love you for all of time.”

“How… why me?” I sputtered. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Ariadne, you are letting your human mind interfere, and convince you that you are not worthy to be in my presence. Did you feel unworthy last night, while we were dancing?”

“No… I felt… there was no such thing.”

“Ariadne, do you love me?”

I struggled to find any word that could properly describe how I felt about him. “You are… utterly intoxicating.”

He giggled like a shy maiden. “I get that a lot. And, if you could be worthy of having me as a husband, would you have me?”

Yes. My body and soul ached and burned with wanting. And he made me extraordinarily happy! I’d never dared to believe a god would love me enough to marry me, but that disbelief was only getting in my way.

He looked me dead in the eyes. I nearly flinched away from the intensity of his gaze, and the shimmering madness behind it. “You are more than you realize, Ariadne, guide in the dark, guardian of the gates of initiation. You are intelligent and witty and brave, and you fear no darkness or madness or savagery, do you? You faced them all in the Labyrinth. You would make an excellent addition to my thiasus, even if you decide not to marry me. Ariadne, the most holy and pure, Lady of the Labyrinth.” His words reverberated deep in the labyrinthine pathways of my own mind and soul, like he had revealed an ancient truth that I had known once, but forgotten.

“The Labyrinth is a holy place, of contemplation and transformation. Isn’t it? Not of death.”

He smiled that gorgeous, winning smile again. “Yes! You understand! And even where there is death, it is not absolute.” His eyes shone with feverish excitement. “Oh, I have so much to teach you!”

“Lord Dionysus, I would be honored beyond imagining if I were to become your wife.”

“So is that a yes? You will marry me?”

Something about him felt right in a way that I could not put words to, like the Fates had done all they could to bring me to this moment. This god loved me, more than the other gods love their conquests, more than I could comprehend. “Yes! I will marry you!”

At that, a cool wind blew across the island, swirling his dark hair around his face and making all the vegetation appear to shimmer. It was like the island itself was affirming my decision. “Then, Ariadne, we shall rule the revel together! In honor of our engagement…” A magnificent diadem appeared in his hands, sparkling with seven gemstones like stars. He placed it on my head, and gave me a warm kiss on my lips. “Ariadne, my bride, may you never thirst. May your lusts never go unsatisfied. May your heart always be light and joyful.”

“Thank you. Thank you, m’lord!”

“You can stop calling me that. If we are to be married, you can simply call me by my name. Or, call me what pleases you. Now, come with me!” He stood, offering me his hand. “Unless you would rather spend some more alone time together, I should finally take you off this island! I will take you home to Nysa, or perhaps to Arcadia, and we will have to throw the most spectacular bacchanal in celebration of our marriage!”

“How will we travel?”

He led me down the beach like a child eager to show something to their parent, and gestured toward a golden chariot drawn by two gigantic panthers. The chariot itself was decorated in images of swirling grapevines and serpents and satyrs making love, and the cats’ pelts gleamed. “Oh, gods… I mean… wow. Does it move over water?”

“It flies, silly!” He stood inside it and beckoned to me. “These cats can run on the wind. Hermes gave them to me.”

I climbed into the chariot and held on for dear life as the panthers bounded into the air with great strides. Soon the chariot was blazing through the bright air, and Naxos was far behind us. Dionysus laughed into the wind, which blew his long hair back from his face. As radiant as he was, I was more than a little terrified of speeding through the air high above the sea in a chariot, and felt like I would fall off at any second, although not even my diadem was dislodged from my head.

“You look terror-stricken, Ariadne. Would you like me to tell you another amusing story? That seems to have cheered you up the last time!”

“That depends on whether you can drive a chariot and get incredibly drunk at the same time.”

He laughed uproariously. “Oh, I love you so much! I can do anything and get incredibly drunk, if you were wondering. So, anyway, the story… Mortals have mixed opinions of me. Most love my parties and stories and love my wine, but they seem a bit put off by the madness and violence and lust it brings out in them… Not sure why, it’s not as though all of that wasn’t there to begin with… Mortal kings do not like this, and some of them can be quite unkind to my worshippers, testing the limits of my mercy… but one of them allowed my mentor, Silenus, to sleep in his garden. So kind of him! So of course I offered him any reward he might wish for, and… he wished that everything he touched would turn to gold.”

“Ooh. Let me guess, it backfired?”

“Oh, did it backfire! His food turned to gold and he nearly starved, and even his daughter turned to gold! Hardly my fault, of course. I promised to give him what he asked for, and I did, he just happened to be an idiot. He had the chance to wish for anything in the world, and he chose something as shallow and pointless as gold. Not to mention, he clearly had never heard of inflation, which makes me worry about his kingdom’s economy. Oh, well. He learned, and I changed everything back. I always let humans indulge themselves, but I am not a god of excess. Either they are satisfied by their pleasures, or they learn their lesson fast. The moral of the story: Know your tolerance. Also, if you want to turn things to gold, you have to do it the hard way. Hermes and I were just discussing how to turn lead to gold, in fact…”

His soothing voice and hilarious tales put me at ease, until we were traveling over beautiful mountains and verdant valleys. I had never seen mainland Greece, but the view of it from the flying chariot was incredible. I was no longer afraid of falling. As we flew, I felt as if the wind stripped me of the cares and sorrows of my former life. Dionysus had set me free. I smiled at him, and he smiled at me as the chariot descended into the lush, hidden valley where a throng of Maenads and satyrs waited to welcome home their lord and his queen.

Dionysus helped me out of the chariot, and I stood before the thiasus, their maddened eyes all turned upon me. “I am the bride of Dionysus,” I proclaimed. “I am Ariadne of the Labyrinth.”

[dionysia-ta-astika]

The Lady of the Labyrinth

For Dionysus.

Everything was lost. My brother was dead. My love was gone.

I was also stranded on a deserted island. I stared out at the vast, empty expanse of the sea. The sunlight on the waves winked at me with a thousand eyes, as though diamonds had been scattered across the surface of the water. Anyone would find this beach tranquil, I suppose, if they were here under different circumstances than mine.

My brother’s name was Asterion.

Most people didn’t know his name, or even that he had one. To most people, he was the Minotaur, a horrible monster with the body of a man and the head of a bull that eats people. Asterion was a monster, and he did eat people.

Beneath my father’s shining palace, he prowled the twists and turns of the Labyrinth that my father’s genius architect built. The Labyrinth was mine, once. Daedalus made it for me as a dancing path, when I was a little girl. But now it is a dark, disorienting maze of seemingly endless passageways, and I was still the only person who knew how to navigate it. When I could have time alone, I would go to the Labyrinth. I felt my way through its pitch-black corridors, memorizing the nicks and cracks in the rough stone, trying to calm my thoughts. I spoke to Asterion through the walls: “You have never seen the sun,” I said to him. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like in the outside world? Or do you like it down here?” I received no answer from the surrounding darkness. If I did hear something — a snort, or hooves on stone, I would have to run as fast as I could away from the sound. Even I couldn’t go too near Asterion — I wouldn’t want to run the risk that he might attack me.

 “Why do you go down there?” My sister, Phaedra, asked me. “What could possibly be appealing about that dark, dismal place?”

“I like it down there,” I said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as I could. “It is peaceful. And I don’t mind the dark.”

She looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted bull’s horns myself. “You know you risk your life every time you enter the Labyrinth, right?”

“He’s our brother,” I said. I don’t know what I intended to explain by saying that. I felt like I had a responsibility to him that extended beyond simply being his sister. I tried to see a man in him, although he sniffed and bellowed and charged like a bull. He could gore me to death like a bull, but I did not fear him. “I can’t say I love him, but I feel something.”

“You shouldn’t feel any sympathy for him. He’s a freak of nature. The gods cursed us with him for our father’s arrogance. He is a shame upon our kingdom.”

She was right, of course. The gods gifted us a beautiful white bull that we were meant to sacrifice to Poseidon, but my father decided to keep it instead. And Poseidon cursed us… Asterion is the unholy offspring of my mother and the bull. And it gets worse. Every seven years, seven young men and seven young women from the city of Athens were brought to the Labyrinth to be fed to my brother. This was because my other brother, whom I was too young to remember, died while in Athens. Athens pays for this slight with the lives of other young people.

I suppose it’s no different than war, or at least, that’s what my father says. All cities send their youths to die for the polis. How was this any different? I could hardly bear the prisoners’ wails of desperation or their pleas for me to help them. When I heard they were coming, I begged my father to set them free, asserting that it was wrong to sacrifice humans to anything. If the gods had cast Tantalus into Tartarus for feeding them his son, then why should we knowingly feed humans to a monster? He laughed at me and asked why I had no pride in my family.  

I hated the thought of the fourteen young people being fed to him, but I also couldn’t imagine killing my own brother, even if he was a monster.

I was too young to remember the last time the prisoners came to the Labyrinth. They had come, and my brother had gorged himself on their flesh, and I was none the wiser. This time, I knew, and the horror of it struck me silent as the tributes were paraded through the city like animal sacrifices to the gods, so that we could all see those who were doomed to die. I could hardly bear to look at them. Some of those girls were barely older than me. It felt wrong to sit by and watch as they were brought to the Labyrinth. But what could I do to save their lives? Supplicating my father would not work, and the only other option was helping them to escape, somehow. How could I do that?

In spite of myself, I caught sight of one of the young men. He was handsome, and he had a defiant, blazing look in his eye. He looked straight at my father on his throne. “I am Theseus of Athens!” he declared. “I have come to slay your monstrous son!”

My father had laughed at him, but he consumed my thoughts. That may be because he was absolutely gorgeous, but it was also because if he succeeded at killing Asterion, he would solve all my problems. I wouldn’t have to take my own brother’s life, but he would devour no more innocent lives. And, if this youth survived, he might take me away with him. I knew the Labyrinth better than anyone. Even if he did survive, he could never make it in and out without my help.

Forgive me, Asterion.

The prisoners were held in two dank cells near the entrance to the Labyrinth.  The women were kept in one, and the men were kept in the other. Many of the prisoners were crying — not just the women, but the men, too. In my familiarity with the Labyrinth and its inhabitant, I had forgotten just how terrifying both would be to anyone else. The Labyrinth’s darkness and maddening complexity would intimidate anyone, and the prospect of being eaten by a monster within its depths was horrific.

Only Theseus seemed calm. His boldness in front of my father hadn’t been an act. His jaw was set, and he still had raw determination in his steely eyes. He was really going to do it, wasn’t he? He actually meant to kill Asterion. He shone like gold in the gloom of the dungeon — he could have been Apollo. If our circumstances were different, I might have wanted to stroke his chest. “Who are you?” he demanded when I approached the cell, as though I were the one behind bars, and had requested an audience with him.

“I am Ariadne,” I said, “daughter of Minos, princess of Crete.”

“I am Theseus, son of Aegeus, prince of Athens,” he returned.

Prince of Athens. That explained his noble bearing and proud mien, not to mention his handsome features… and yet… “There is no way the King of Athens would have sent his own son to be fed to the Minotaur,” I said. “Why are you really here?”

“I said, didn’t I? I’m here to slay the Minotaur. I volunteered as tribute.” He smirked. “I promised my father that I would return alive. No more of our people will be sacrificed to the monster!”

“You speak with a lot of confidence for someone who is currently in a prison cell,” I said. “What are you going to do, Theseus? Do you have a plan?”

“Of course I have a plan!” he said, a little defensively. “I am going to break out of this cell. And then I will conquer the Labyrinth—”

“How? You’ll be dead of starvation before you even reach the Minotaur, assuming he doesn’t find you first.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you taunting me?”

I leaned forward, looking directly into his eyes. “No. I was actually going to offer to help you. I know the Labyrinth. I go into it all the time.”

“No, you don’t. You’re trying to get me to sleep with you. Or trying to deceive me on behalf of Minos.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but couldn’t find anything to say in response to that. For a moment I just stared at him. Was he always this self-assured, even in the worst of circumstances? If he wanted to sleep with me, I certainly wouldn’t complain, but why would he assume that I would deceive him? Well, perhaps it was his right to be suspicious, in a strange land where he was kept as a prisoner. “I… no,” I finally replied. “I’m being serious. I’m here to help you.”

“Why, then?”

“I think it is very noble of you to want to save the other Athenians, and I agree that no more innocent lives should be lost.”

He smiled slightly, but still looked suspicious. “You have no loyalty to your father?”

“My father is cruel and selfish. Why else do you think my mother gave birth to a monster, anyway?”

“The monster is your brother? What was his father, a bull?”

“Yes.”

That seemed to have stunned him into silence. I felt some satisfaction at that. “Listen to me. Without my help, you will not get through the Labyrinth. If you want to kill the Minotaur, you need me.”

“What’s the catch?” he asked. “You’re going to want something in return, aren’t you? What?”

“Take me off this accursed rock,” I said. “I am sick of Crete, I’m sick of my father, and I don’t want to have to put up with whatever punishment he might give me for helping you.”

“Well, you are a princess, and I suppose you would make a fine bride for me.”

My heart leapt at those words, and I felt myself blushing. Perhaps I should have known better. “Really? You would marry me?”

“If you help me to slay the Minotaur, then yes, I will marry you.”

“Deal.”

Theseus remained in my thoughts from that point onward. When I closed my eyes, I saw his face, and I imagined the feel of his skin. I’d never seen a man like him before, and oh, if I married him… would I be happy? Happier than I was here, at least? He seemed like the kind of man that Phaedra and I dreamed we would marry as young girls — strong, brave, handsome, and willing to put himself on the line for the sake of his people. All such admirable qualities.

I returned to Theseus when the prisoners were locked into the Labyrinth’s abyssal maw. “Everyone else, stay back!” he ordered, as though he were directing troops. “I will go into the Labyrinth and kill the Minotaur. Stay here, and you will be safe.” He suddenly turned to me. “What have you brought to help me?”

I held out a humble ball of yarn. “This.”

He took it from my hand and raised an eyebrow at it, looking as though he might throw it into the dark. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Daedalus gave it to me when I first started exploring the Labyrinth.”

“Daedalus? I’ve heard of Daedalus. He is supposed to be the most brilliant architect in the world, right?”

“He built this Labyrinth, and he gave me the yarn. All you have to do is tie the end here and carry it through the maze. Then you can follow it back out.”

Theseus looked impressed. “He must be a genius to have thought of something like that!”

He may have been a genius, but I was still intelligent enough to figure it out on my own. All Daedalus had done was hand me the ball of yarn, and I immediately understood what I was meant to do with it. But I didn’t bother correcting Theseus. “Do you have a weapon?”

“No,” said Theseus. “I’m not worried. I’ll kill the beast with my bare hands.”

I blinked at him, dumbfounded. I suppose if anyone could do it, he could; he was almost as musclebound as the bull-man. But still. Only an extremely impressive hero with divine lineage could hope to kill a monster bare-handed, that or a total idiot. “You are going to die.”

“Nonsense!” He smiled. “Haven’t died yet! And I have faced many deadly trials before.”

I smiled back. “I’m sure you have, but, well, it’s your funeral.”

“Do you want this monster dead, or not?” he demanded.

“Woah, I wasn’t being serious, I…” To be asked that question point-blank was unsettling. It threw my whole dilemma into focus. But seeing the terrified faces of the other tributes huddled naked in the entrance to the Labyrinth gave me my answer. “Yes.”

“I shall go then.” He tied the yarn to the gate and strode with it into the dark. I admired his confidence, even if the odds were against him. He turned the first corner, and was gone. I stared into the darkness for a moment.

One of the girls gripped the hem of my dress. “Please,” she whispered. “Please help us, my lady. We did nothing to be here. If he dies, will you help us escape?”

 I didn’t look at her. I kept staring into the Labyrinth’s depths. “I will do what I can,” I said slowly. Then I followed Theseus. I heard her gasp behind me, as if her last hope had just walked away.

I overtook Theseus quickly. He was moving slowly, blindly hitting walls and getting disoriented by the serpentine turns. He jumped when he heard me behind him, turned on his heel and braced for attack, staring me down with the intensity of a bull about to charge. Then he softened. “Oh. It’s you. What are you doing here? I don’t need your help.”

“I know this place better than you do,” I said matter-of-factly.

He huffed in response. “Get back to the entrance. The Minotaur could arrive at any moment.”

I walked ahead of him. “I know. Every time I explore the Labyrinth, I risk death.”

“Why would you explore this place?” he asked, following me. “What could it possibly offer a girl like you?”

“Peace. Solitude. Time away from my father.”

“This Labyrinth is maddening!” His growing frustration echoed off the walls. “How are you not mad? Perhaps you are mad, with the things you say.”

“I’ve never considered that I might be mad.”

“Only if you were mad would you willingly choose to be in this dark prison.”

“You willingly chose to be here.”

He had no response. We walked in silence for a while, dragging the thread behind us. It was almost impossible to see the thread in the dark. I could tell that Theseus was starting to get agitated. The twining paths of the Labyrinth must be making him feel like we were making no progress. The grim silence and high stone walls made us feel completely cut off from the outside world, like there was no world at all beyond the Labyrinth. “Do you think this is what Hades is like?” he asked. “A deep cavern, under the earth, where there is nothing to do but walk endlessly?”

I couldn’t tell whether that was a sincere philosophical question, or whether he was asking indignantly. “I don’t know. The Fields of Asphodel are supposed to be open, and full of the white flowers… Not quite like this.”

“It makes no difference to me anyway. I will assuredly go to Elysium when I die, and it is the most agreeable part of Hades.”

If Hades is exactly like this, I thought, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. There are worse things than this.

Eventually, we passed the point where I usually turned back. I had never gotten this close to the center before. And then we heard it — the unmistakable sound of hooves. Cold terror gripped me. I did not expect to feel this afraid, especially not of my own brother, but the reality of the situation sank in. We were  in a Labyrinth with a flesh-eating monster, and the exit was too far away for any chance of escape.  Why did I follow him? Why did I think that was a good idea?

“Our quarry is upon us! You should leave,” said Theseus sternly. “The monster eats the maidens first, so I hear.”

The instinct to run left me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Suit yourself, but you will not be able to fight against the Minotaur.”

“You will protect me, will you?” Being with him felt safe, like he was a bodyguard.

“I will.” As soon as he said that, my fear was banished, and my confidence restored.

A few more turns, and we reached the center of the Labyrinth, a place I figured I’d never enter. In the gloom, I couldn’t actually see much, but I was able to see the hulking shape of my brother with his huge bull’s head and wicked-looking horns.

“There is the beast!” A light suddenly blazed to life beside me, and I cringed away from its brightness. It was a torch.

“Did you have that the whole time?”

“I was saving it!” He handed me the torch and the end of the yarn, and I took them, nonplussed. I saw the floor of the Labyrinth’s center, full of human bones. “Wait there, I will make swift work of this!” Theseus took a fighting stance, muscles tensed.

Asterion looked at me. I felt blind panic grip me, but he did not attack me. Perhaps he recognized me. He must have been familiar with my presence and voice by now, enough to know I wasn’t a threat. I stared into his black bull eyes. They were soft, not fiery and enraged. This was my brother. “Asterion… I’m so sorry, Asterion.”

“What are you doing? Get back!”

Theseus’ yell attracted Asterion’s attention. He roared and rushed forward with his powerful legs, horns lowered and ready to gore him to death. Theseus grabbed Asterion’s horns and hurled himself up onto the Minotaur’s back, holding him in a chokehold with both arms. “I shall send you to the pit of Tartarus, fiend!”  Asterion thrashed and bucked and slammed Theseus against the wall, but soon enough, it was over. Theseus had strangled the Minotaur. Asterion lay dead.

Theseus picked himself up, looking exhausted but triumphant. “Victory! No Athenians will die today, or ever! This monster will never claim another human life!” He grinned at me. “See, I told you I could do it with my bare hands!”

I stared at the mass of Asterion’s body. “I killed my brother…”

“Nonsense!” Theseus took the torch back from me. The bones crunched under his feet as he walked. “It is hardly your fault that you are the sister of a beast. We have done a good and heroic thing today. Look, look at the bones! Why are you crying, Ariadne?”

I suddenly looked at him instead of the Minotaur’s corpse. I don’t think he’d said my name before. Even in the dim torchlight, he still looked bright, with clear eyes and golden hair and bronze skin slick with sweat. “I couldn’t have done this without you, Ariadne.” He smiled at me. “Thank you. Together we have saved many lives.”

He kissed me, and the torch went out.

The following events were a blur. After we had successfully followed the thread out of the Labyrinth, Theseus triumphantly announced to my father that the Minotaur was dead, and demanded me and my sister as prizes. My father was furious — of course he was. He had essentially just lost all of his children, and all because one had died in Athens before I was old enough to remember. I, however, was elated, and so was Phaedra. Phaedra was as eager to leave Crete as I was, and she seemed just as taken with Theseus’ handsomeness. She didn’t seem distressed that Asterion was dead, and why would she? The grateful Athenians went back to their ship, many of them sobbing with relief. I didn’t look at my father as I followed Theseus to the ship. I never wanted to look at him again. We passed by Talos, and I left Knossos and the Labyrinth behind me.

Crete faded into the horizon, and before me was sunshine and new possibilities. Theseus glowed with triumph and pride, smiling at me and kissing me when he announced to the other Athenians that he would marry me, and that I would become their queen. They fell to their knees and showered me and Theseus with gratitude for having saved their lives. I felt almost as if I were a goddess. Wine flowed freely in celebration, and I took more joy in it than I had in a long time.

It did not last long. Soon after the first few hours I was, if possible, even more miserable on Theseus’ ship than I had been in Knossos. I quickly became tired of his boasts about how he had strangled the beast, without crediting me at all, or so much as mentioning the ball of yarn, even though the other Athenians had seen me give it to him and seen me follow him into the Labyrinth. Every time he told the story, it got further from the truth, and emphasized his own heroism over mine. Is this how it would be when I was queen? No matter what I did, I’d be shunted to the side? Then, Theseus seemed to be doting on Phaedra. She usually attracted more attention. She was prettier than me. She had blond hair that shined in the sunlight and the bright eyes of our mother Pasiphae, the daughter of Helios. My hair and eyes were dark, like the Labyrinth.

I left the celebration, finding a quiet spot on deck. I sat by the edge of the ship, staring out into the open waves and trying not to think about Asterion, but the image of him lying dead in the torchlight haunted me. “Are you okay, Ariadne?” Phaedra asked me. “What is wrong? We are finally out of there, all thanks to you! No more Minotaur, no more tributes having to die, no more Father… We will have a new life in Athens.” I stayed silent. “You look despondent. Something’s wrong.”

I looked up into her eyes. “It’s like you said, Phaedra. Asterion is dead.”

“Do you… mourn him?”

“He was our brother, and I killed him!”

“Theseus killed him! You did nothing!” I knew that she meant to reassure me, but it touched a raw nerve.

“He would not have if I hadn’t led him straight to the center of the Labyrinth!”

“Ariadne…” Phaedra put her hand on my shoulder. “You… you’re… you’ll be okay. You are just a little bit disoriented.” She left me alone.

I looked at the Athenians, who laughed and danced and celebrated their lives. I didn’t feel like dancing. I already missed the Labyrinth. My guilt drew my thoughts back to Knossos. I wanted to hide in the Labyrinth forever, like Asterion had, or else throw myself into the sea for my guilt. The brightness of the waves was glaring compared to the soothing darkness of the Labyrinth.

Theseus approached me from behind. He had been ignoring me until now, maybe because I was so sorrowful. I could feel that he was angry at me, and my skin crawled, but I didn’t turn. “What cause do you have to weep, Ariadne? You should be happy!” he said.

“I am sorry, Theseus. Part of me still mourns for my brother.”

“What is the matter with you? All you have done is sit and stare at the water! If you loved that Labyrinth so much, perhaps you should have stayed there! Now please, put this sorrow behind you. You have no cause for it.” He sighed, softening. “When we arrive in Athens, we shall marry, and there will be much rejoicing.”

“Leave me alone.” The bitterness in my voice rang louder than I’d intended.

He scowled at me.“You are joyless, passionless, and thankless,” he spat, and stalked off. The word useless went unsaid; I could tell he was reconsidering making me his wife.

“Theseus, wait!” I yelled, suddenly sounding desperate.

I stood up, and he turned back to look at me, and I felt as if I were naked under his gaze and that of the others on the ship, which had all quieted and turned in my direction. His eyes were cold, and his nostrils flared just as Asterion’s had. “What, Ariadne? You have shown me neither gratitude nor pleasure, you have not acted like a princess. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Shamed, I said nothing. I sat back down. Then, as he was about to turn away again, I suddenly found my voice. “Why are you being cruel?”

“I am not being cruel. You are being difficult.”

By the time we reached Naxos, I was feeling heartbroken as well as grief-stricken. Theseus was giving me the silent treatment. I think he expected me to come running to him begging for forgiveness. We stopped on the island to rest, primarily because Theseus had dreamt that he would stop here during his homecoming.

 I took off my sandals and walked along the edge of the surf to clear my thoughts. The beach was bright and wide and open, the exact opposite of the Labyrinth. Even in the sand, I felt his heavy footsteps approaching behind me. “Ariadne, we need to talk.”

I continued to face away from him. “What?”

“Ariadne, I find your attitude disagreeable.” 

I turned on my heel to face him, planting myself in the sand. “I’ve found your attitude disagreeable! All you have done since we left Crete is boast about your heroics, and you’ve barely given me any credit—”

“Credit! You want credit for having slain it, when all you have done is cry over the hideous thing?”

The disdain in his voice stung me like arrows. “You don’t care at all for me or my feelings, do you?”

“If you were to become my queen, I would expect better behavior from you.” He sounded like he was lecturing a child.

“Well… I don’t want to be your queen! You are almost as bad as my father!”

“Good. I have already decided to take your sister Phaedra as my bride instead.” I didn’t reply. “You may still return with us to Athens, but we will have to make other arrangements for you.”

Forget Athens. I didn’t want Theseus to do anything for me. “Oh, forgive me for having been such a disappointment to you! Go ahead, go back to Athens and marry my sister! By Zeus! I’ve had enough of you!”

And I ran. I turned away from Theseus and ran down the beach until my legs gave out, falling in the sand to sulk and wonder where it all went wrong. I regretted having ever met Theseus, or helped him to kill my brother. If I could undo it all, I would. No. Then innocent people would have died. Oh, gods, why am I so wretched?

And then, as I was just beginning to calm down, I saw that the ship was sailing away over the waves. I was stranded on the island. Despair and panic crashed down upon me. Oh gods, gods, why? Had I somehow been forgotten about, or left behind on purpose? Had Theseus doomed me to die? “CURSE you, Theseus!” I screamed at the distant ship. I watched it go until it disappeared over the horizon. I could do nothing but hopelessly stare at the wine-dark sea as the sun set.

“Excuse me, why are you crying?”

I had been sitting with my head in my arms, weeping despondently, and I was startled by the sudden voice, soft though it was. I was certain the island was deserted, but now, a young man stood before me. He was silhouetted against the sky, the sun shining behind his head like a halo. Where had he come from? I hadn’t heard him come. It was though he’d simply stepped out of the sea.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and my voice sounded cracked from crying. “I thought I was alone.”

“May I sit with you?” the man asked. “You look like you could use a drink, something to soothe you, hm?”

“Yes… yes, thank you.”

He sat down in the sand next to me, languidly stretching his legs out in front of him like he was sitting on the plushest couch. With the sunlight on him, I could see him properly — he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen in my life. He easily put Theseus to shame. His eyes were leafy green, warm and kind. He was lithe, and his skin looked as pale and smooth as a girl’s, and his lips looked so soft. I couldn’t place the color of his hair — it seemed to be dark brown, but it could have been as dark as the Styx, and when the sun caught it, it looked honey-gold. It fell over his shoulders in loose curls. He wore nothing but a fine purple cloak draped over one shoulder, a golden leopard skin around his waist, and a wreath of ivy on his head. His cheeks were flushed, and he had a bright, easy smile. He was so lovely, so breathtaking, it almost hurt to look at him. With delicate hands, he offered me a kylix brimming with wine. “Please, tell me what has made you so upset.”

I blinked at the kylix, and the leopard skin, and the ivy in his hair. “Are you… a Bacchant?” I’d heard of them. They worshipped a mad and savage god with drunken orgies in the woods, and were said to be able to rip animals or even people limb-from-limb in their frenzy. Not unlike Asterion, I suppose.

He flashed a devious smile. “Maaaaybe.”

I took the kylix and drank deeply. The wine was sweet, and somehow, I felt immediately calmer. Slowly, amid my lingering sobs, I told the story — about Asterion, and my father, and the tributes, how I’d decided to help Theseus, how we’d found our way through the Labyrinth, how Theseus had killed Asterion, how Theseus had been so heartless, and how he had apparently left me to die on a deserted island. By the time I finished talking, the kylix was empty.

“How do you feel now?” he asked me.

“Better… I think. But I’m still devastated, and… guilty. My brother’s death… it was really my fault, and I don’t know if I did the right thing or not. Do you think it’s wrong for me to grieve for my brother? I mean… he was a monster…”

“No. I don’t think it’s wrong. It is perfectly understandable that you would mourn your brother.”

“If I had let the Athenians die, I would have mourned for them, too.” I sighed.

“Yes. There must be blood; one sacrifice was traded for another, Asterion, the worthy bull. It is okay to grieve, for as long as you need to, but do not wallow in despair.”

“I tend to do that. I don’t remember the last time I was completely happy. I thought Theseus would make me happy, but… then… I wish I had my Labyrinth back! It was at least soothing down there.”

“It pains me to see people sad,” he said. He handed me the kylix again, and it was once again full of wine. I hadn’t seen him fill it. “Pleasure is a state of mind. The best way to rid yourself of sadness is to focus on things that make you happy. There is always something to take pleasure in! Like the beauty of the sunset, or the sound of the lapping waves. Or wine!”

“Not when you are abandoned to die, with no way off the island,” I said. “How did you get here, anyway? I don’t see a boat.”

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically, with that same mischievous smile. That smile and the teasing sparkle in his eyes were so adorable. His beauty is something to take pleasure in, I suddenly thought, and his company, and kindness…

I took another draught of the wine. “Why are the gods so cruel to me?” I murmured, more to myself than to him.

“The gods are not cruel to you.” He stated it with complete confidence, as though it were an undeniable fact, not as though he were trying to convince me.

“It certainly seems that way,” I replied.

“Life can often seem that way, but then, it gets better, and you will find that the gods favor you,” he said.

“Well… I suppose that must be true, if handsome strangers pop out of nowhere to comfort women.”

He beamed. “Exactly!” He took the kylix back from me, threw his head back, and drained about half of it in one gulp. “You know, I was stranded on a desert island like this one once.”

“Wait, what? You were?”

“Yes! It was a long time ago now, but I was just as pretty back then, and just as fond of wearing purple. Purple is the best color, you know.” He winked. “Anyway, so I was lying asleep on a beach and—” he took another swig of the wine, “a pirate ship rows by…”

“Are you drunk?”

“Always, darling!” That roguish grin of his was really starting to win me over. “Anyway, the pirates saw me sleeping on the beach, saw how pretty I was and saw my fine purple robes, and thought I was a prince. Well. They weren’t wrong… I technically am a prince of Thebes, on my mother’s side.” He laughed like he had just told the most hilarious joke and had another sip of the wine. The amount of wine in the kylix never seemed to get any lower.

“Does that mean… you’re a bastard?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yes, yes it does! I’m such a bastard. I mean… I was born out of wedlock. And my father’s wife, oooh, she hates me.” Another sip of the wine. “Never get on her bad side if you can help it.” He pointed at me as if this was the most important information I could ever learn, and I laughed. “She can’t touch me now, but she drove me mad when I was younger. Literally. Anyway, so these pirates kidnapped me. Thought I’d make a damn cute catamite, and I certainly would, but that’s beside the point. You don’t and kidnap boys no matter how pretty they are. I tried to tell my dad that, but it didn’t go over well.” Another sip of the wine.

“You are slender, but I bet you could take Theseus in a drinking contest.”

“Oh, I could take aaaaaanyone in a drinking contest! Never lost one yet!” His face was glowing, not just with blush from the wine but also with infectious joy. I slowly forgot about my misfortunes as I listened to his story. “So they tried to tie me to the ship’s mast, but found they couldn’t do it. I only tolerate bondage on my own terms. And then…” There was suddenly a mad gleam in his green eyes. “I covered their ship in grapevines, and ivy, and flowers, and the delicious smell of wine. I can’t imagine why such delightful things frightened them so. But I thought I’d scare them more, see, because it was funny. So I turned into a lion! And they flung themselves overboard in fear!” He laughed, and his laugh sounded as musical as flutes on a clear morning, but it had a maddened edge to it. “But I pitied them, y’know?” he continued. “Just as you pity your brother. So I changed them into dolphins. So they wouldn’t drown.”

“You changed… you turned into… did… did your god give you those powers? Or… are you just… really… drunk?” But I knew. I think that intuitively, I knew the whole time.

“Easy,” he said, once again raising the bottomless kylix to his lips with that knowing smile. “I’m really drunk.”

At this, I burst out laughing, and my laugh sounded almost unfamiliar to my own ears. I felt light, carefree, replenished. And then it sank in, that I was speaking to a god. I hastily knelt, and dropped my head before him, although he was still sitting next to me. “Lord Dionysus! Son of Zeus! Lord, lord, thank you for coming to me, for talking to me, for relieving me of my pain, for freeing me from my suffering…”

“You’re welcome, Ariadne.” He lifted my face, so that I was staring up into his eyes, which were now vivid reddish-purple, the color of ripe grapes. A richly purple aura surrounded him, proclaiming his divinity. In his hand was his staff, a fennel stalk topped with a pinecone that dripped with honey, twined with ivy and purple ribbons. And he had horns, bull’s horns just like my brother’s, magnificent and deadly sharp. They curved up above his brow, as much his crown as the wreath of ivy in his hair. The imposing horns created a striking contrast with his delicate features, but they looked right, somehow. Like this was how he was supposed to look.

I didn’t know what to say. My mind had gone suddenly blank. “I’ve never known great Dionysus to have horns,” I blurted.

“Not many get to see them,” he said, his voice suddenly slow and solemn. “Ariadne, will you dance with me?”

Whatever I had expected him to say, it was not that. “Wh—what?”

“Dance with me!” He stood up and twirled off across the beach. His hair floated around his shoulders, the ribbons on his thyrsus arced through the air like the rainbow, and his expression was one of elation. He screamed in ecstasy, and it was an inhuman sound, like the crowing of some unearthly bird. At that, the air filled with cacophonous music — flutes, drums, cymbals, rattles, castanets.

A command echoed inside my head. No, not a command — a compulsion: DANCE! DANCE!

So I danced with the bull-horned god. “Dancing” barely even begins to describe what I was doing. I was filled with an overwhelming, indescribable feeling, like I didn’t fit in my own skin. Like I was about to be lifted out of my own shoulders! I moved like my body was doing everything it could to express this ineffable thing inside me that was so much bigger than me. I spun, I leapt, I ran, I stamped my feet in the sand, I moved wherever the feeling took me. It burned like fire. And Dionysus was all I could perceive. I screamed with both intense rapture and pure, genuine worship: “EUOI! EUOI! EUOI!”

I met his eyes, and there I saw all the raw ferocity of a bull or a great cat, as well as chaos and lust and debauchery and pure mania. All the forces strong enough to tear a person apart! I desperately thirsted for something I could not name. It was more than wine, more than flesh, more than blood. Dionysus took me in his arms, and kissed me on the lips. Passion overtook me.

Maybe I fainted in exhilaration, or maybe I was simply too drunk to remember. All I know was that I was eventually awakened by the sunrise and the sound of lapping waves. And Dionysus… was still there. He hadn’t disappeared into the night, he was still sleeping there in the sand, looking blissful and alluring in his sleep. His tousled curls tumbled over the sand, his soft hand was upturned beside his head, and his lips were parted invitingly. He lay on his purple cloak, and was using the leopard pelt like a blanket, though it was only carelessly draped over his waist.

“Lord… thank you for not leaving me,” I whispered.

His long eyelashes fluttered, and then his eyes opened, once again appearing vine-green. “Mmmm… sleep well?”

“Yes.” I desperately wanted to kiss him, and the seductive look in his eyes tempted me. “May I… touch you?”

“Darling, you may touch me anywhere you like,” he purred. Ravenously, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressed my chest to his, and our lips met. He still tasted like wine, and I drank him in the way I would wine. We lay there for a moment, entangled in each other’s arms like grape and ivy vines, idly caressing each other’s skin and hair.

“M’lord…” I whispered, “perhaps it might be impertinent to ask, but… what am I going to do now? I can’t go home. I don’t really want to go to Athens. And I still have no way off this island.”

“Why, Ariadne,” he gave me a teasing smile. “If I may be so bold, I hoped you would join me! In fact… I hope you might marry me.”

I was so taken aback by this that I immediately sat up. “You… you’re serious? Marry you?” I knew that gods frequently took mortal lovers, but this was unimaginable. “Actually marry you?”

“Yes, Ariadne. I love you.” He said it with the same sweetness and sincerity that he initially approached me with. Theseus had said no such thing. “You are not destined to become queen of Athens, but perhaps you might be my queen, if you are willing.”

I burst into tears, but they weren’t tears of sadness this time. They were tears of overwhelm, the same kind of overflowing sensation that I’d felt while dancing. “You love me?”

“I am absolutely besotted, my darling! I have had many lovers, but I had not fallen so madly in love since Ampelos, my first love, my darling vine.” A grapevine appeared between his fingers and twined up his arm. “Perhaps something in me is inclined towards mortals over gods, which is understandable, given my parentage. But, that should be no problem. I will bring you to Olympus, and love you for all of time.”

“How… why me?” I sputtered. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Ariadne, you are letting your human mind interfere, and convince you that you are not worthy to be in my presence. Did you feel unworthy last night, while we were dancing?”

“No… I felt… there was no such thing.”

“Ariadne, do you love me?”

I struggled to find any word that could properly describe how I felt about him. “You are… utterly intoxicating.”

He giggled like a shy maiden. “I get that a lot. And, if you could be worthy of having me as a husband, would you have me?”

Yes. My body and soul ached and burned with wanting. And he made me extraordinarily happy! I’d never dared to believe a god would love me enough to marry me, but that disbelief was only getting in my way.

He looked me dead in the eyes. I nearly flinched away from the intensity of his gaze, and the shimmering madness behind it. “You are more than you realize, Ariadne, guide in the dark, guardian of the gates of initiation. You are intelligent and witty and brave, and you fear no darkness or madness or savagery, do you? You faced them all in the Labyrinth. You would make an excellent addition to my thiasus, even if you decide not to marry me. Ariadne, the most holy and pure, Lady of the Labyrinth.” His words reverberated deep in the labyrinthine pathways of my own mind and soul, like he had revealed an ancient truth that I had known once, but forgotten.

“The Labyrinth is a holy place, of contemplation and transformation. Isn’t it? Not of death.”

He smiled that gorgeous, winning smile again. “Yes! You understand! And even where there is death, it is not absolute.” His eyes shone with feverish excitement. “Oh, I have so much to teach you!”

“Lord Dionysus, I would be honored beyond imagining if I were to become your wife.”

“So is that a yes? You will marry me?”

Something about him felt right in a way that I could not put words to, like the Fates had done all they could to bring me to this moment. This god loved me, more than the other gods love their conquests, more than I could comprehend. “Yes! I will marry you!”

At that, a cool wind blew across the island, swirling his dark hair around his face and making all the vegetation appear to shimmer. It was like the island itself was affirming my decision. “Then, Ariadne, we shall rule the revel together! In honor of our engagement…” A magnificent diadem appeared in his hands, sparkling with seven gemstones like stars. He placed it on my head, and gave me a warm kiss on my lips. “Ariadne, my bride, may you never thirst. May your lusts never go unsatisfied. May your heart always be light and joyful.”

“Thank you. Thank you, m’lord!”

“You can stop calling me that. If we are to be married, you can simply call me by my name. Or, call me what pleases you. Now, come with me!” He stood, offering me his hand. “Unless you would rather spend some more alone time together, I should finally take you off this island! I will take you home to Nysa, or perhaps to Arcadia, and we will have to throw the most spectacular bacchanal in celebration of our marriage!”

“How will we travel?”

He led me down the beach like a child eager to show something to their parent, and gestured toward a golden chariot drawn by two gigantic panthers. The chariot itself was decorated in images of swirling grapevines and serpents and satyrs making love, and the cats’ pelts gleamed. “Oh, gods… I mean… wow. Does it move over water?”

“It flies, silly!” He stood inside it and beckoned to me. “These cats can run on the wind. Hermes gave them to me.”

I climbed into the chariot and held on for dear life as the panthers bounded into the air with great strides. Soon the chariot was blazing through the bright air, and Naxos was far behind us. Dionysus laughed into the wind, which blew his long hair back from his face. As radiant as he was, I was more than a little terrified of speeding through the air high above the sea in a chariot, and felt like I would fall off at any second, although not even my diadem was dislodged from my head.

“You look terror-stricken, Ariadne. Would you like me to tell you another amusing story? That seems to have cheered you up the last time!”

“That depends on whether you can drive a chariot and get incredibly drunk at the same time.”

He laughed uproariously. “Oh, I love you so much! I can do anything and get incredibly drunk, if you were wondering. So, anyway, the story… Mortals have mixed opinions of me. Most love my parties and stories and love my wine, but they seem a bit put off by the madness and violence and lust it brings out in them… Not sure why, it’s not as though all of that wasn’t there to begin with… Mortal kings do not like this, and some of them can be quite unkind to my worshippers, testing the limits of my mercy… but one of them allowed my mentor, Silenus, to sleep in his garden. So kind of him! So of course I offered him any reward he might wish for, and… he wished that everything he touched would turn to gold.”

“Ooh. Let me guess, it backfired?”

“Oh, did it backfire! His food turned to gold and he nearly starved, and even his daughter turned to gold! Hardly my fault, of course. I promised to give him what he asked for, and I did, he just happened to be an idiot. He had the chance to wish for anything in the world, and he chose something as shallow and pointless as gold. Not to mention, he clearly had never heard of inflation, which makes me worry about his kingdom’s economy. Oh, well. He learned, and I changed everything back. I always let humans indulge themselves, but I am not a god of excess. Either they are satisfied by their pleasures, or they learn their lesson fast. The moral of the story: Know your tolerance. Also, if you want to turn things to gold, you have to do it the hard way. Hermes and I were just discussing how to turn lead to gold, in fact…”

His soothing voice and hilarious tales put me at ease, until we were traveling over beautiful mountains and verdant valleys. I had never seen mainland Greece, but the view of it from the flying chariot was incredible. I was no longer afraid of falling. As we flew, I felt as if the wind stripped me of the cares and sorrows of my former life. Dionysus had set me free. I smiled at him, and he smiled at me as the chariot descended into the lush, hidden valley where a throng of Maenads and satyrs waited to welcome home their lord and his queen.

Dionysus helped me out of the chariot, and I stood before the thiasus, their maddened eyes all turned upon me. “I am the bride of Dionysus,” I proclaimed. “I am Ariadne of the Labyrinth.”

[ayellowcurtain]

I can be your lover

Part 7

Robbe knows Sander is staring, finding the awkwardness between them funny and not gut wrenching like he is. And Robbe is happy to be around Sander too but the guilt is still in the back of his mind.

It’s a nice surprise that Sander doesn’t hold anything he did or said against him. It helps with all the other bad feelings he’s trying to subside, to pile in the back of his brain, trying to make them smaller and smaller so he can focus on what’s happening now. Sander being chill with him, so much so that it feels like he’s making fun of them for being quiet and awkward.

“You went back to the bleached hair…” Robbe tests the waters himself, wanting to know how chill Sander really is. Because he’s amazing at keeping a straight face but Robbe knows he’ll feel in his words and his tone if he’s being nice just to be nice.

Sander nods his head, drinking his beer, his eyes still never leaving Robbe’s. He’s so comfortable and relaxed, leaning against the old and fancy back porch rail, acting like they haven’t just spent years with no contact because Robbe was rude and sabotaged their first attempt of a relationship. It feels nice, the best feeling, honestly, but Robbe can’t forget as easily about the last few times they talked before this.

“I did. As another part of this...restart again.”

Robbe laughs, leaning against the side wall next to him so he can stare back at Sander and stand on his shaky legs.

“How was it? Moving back, I mean…”

Sander shrugs, looking at the view from Noor’s balcony, “I think it’s a lot easier when you’re moving with no intention of doing it again any time soon.”

“Are you staying with your parents?”

Sander looks at him and he doesn’t have to say it, Robbe knows it’s not Sander’s favorite thing to do: go back to living with his parents. They’re lovely but they’re also overprotective and Sander has very little patience after so many years dealing with it daily.

“Yes.” He grunts. “Hopefully for just a few days.”

Robbe exhales shakingly, not sure if it’s because he’s a little cold after drinking freezing cold beers or because of this conversation, face to face with Sander, “Are you looking for a place already?”

Sander nods his head again, leaning against the rail behind him again, putting his beer on the floor next to his feet.

“You wanna see some apartments with me?”

Robbe feels a heat wave rush up through his entire body right away with the implications of that, even though he knows Sander is just making a joke again, loving to make Robbe feel all types of embarrassment and fondness at the same time. Robbe daydreams for a second about seeing a bunch of apartments with Sander, thinking about how they would decorate each one, how it fits for their lives and routines, even their serious conversations about how they would pay their bills would make Robbe excited. He gently rubs his fingers against each other, no bruises or skin asking to be peeled.

That’s how it always was between them: Sander likes to tease Robbe in any way he can because he knows Robbe gets both shy and more in love when Sander is being weird.

“No…”

“I think it would be fun.” Sander snorts, smiling like Robbe hasn’t hurt him constantly for the past few years, “I mean it, Robbe. I’ll behave myself.”

“Says the one that couldn’t keep his hands to himself if we dared to be shirtless around each other by accident, or took a shower together.” Robbe teases right back, knowing he’ll lose if he plays the teasing game with Sander.

“But that’s not fair, c’mon! You’re talking about us being horny teenagers and half naked or completely naked around each other. There’s no chance of behaving in those scenarios.”

They laugh it off, looking at each other until it fades out back to silence, staying quiet for some time, looking at each other, surprisingly keeping their distance and the light, playful conversation. The pile Robbe was trying to minimize is completely gone now.

“Are you missing your old life already?” Robbe puts his head to the side against the wall and he notices Sander losing his focus, staring down at his exposed neck before meeting Robbe’s eyes again.

“No. Not really. I just got here so maybe it’ll happen later. But I’m happy to be home, even if living with my parents for a second.” Sander looks down, smiling to his thoughts, and up again, suddenly with those puppy eyes with a hint of cockiness if Robbe can stare long enough to find it, “And are you happy that I’m home?”

“Yeah…” Robbe takes a deep breath in, filling his lungs to the maximum “I’m sorry for making your life a mess the past few years. But yes, I’m selfishly happy that you’re home. It doesn’t mean anything, of course…”

“It can…” Sander says just above a whisper, in that challenging way he can use whenever he wants that something to happen. It’s hard to have a normal conversation with someone you’re clearly still very much in love with. Robbe knows him too well not to notice these changes in his gaze, in his tone and he’s still able to understand what each of them means.

“I see you came to this party just to make my life more difficult...”

Sander sighs, grabbing his beer from the floor to finish it at once, licking his lips, putting the empty bottle back on the floor. He shakes his head slowly, as if even he isn’t sure himself of his negative movement.

“You think I’m too hurt to give us a second chance and that you don’t deserve it if I do. And you feel bad that you’re the main reason why we spent the past long years apart. You were always the overthinker and that’s okay. I was always the one that only cared about us, fuck the rest. And that’s okay. We’re different people, you not being able to make a life changing decision so quickly doesn’t make you a bad person. Me still desperately wanting you back after everything doesn’t make me weak for a bad person.”

Robbe swallows the little saliva he has in his mouth, slowly trying to digest all the hard truths that were just said, put out like it was nothing when it felt like the heaviest weight on his shoulders for all these years. Sander is not wrong but hearing him say it so blunty, a very Sander way of doing things if Robbe can say so himself, makes everything feel a lot more real - and meaningless compared to the thunder storm Robbe had in his mind whenever he thought about it privately - and it’s easier for Robbe to fully comprehend when someone explains it to him by their point of view.

“It wasn’t fair to keep you in the middle while I was...struggling mentally all over again.”

“It really wasn’t fair for you to not give me a choice but I get it in a way. It’s not the same but if I was brave enough I wouldn’t want you around when I have an episode. But I’m too attached to ask you to ever leave me alone like you did with me.” Sander exhales, smiling at him, “Now that we got that out of our way, can we leave?”

Robbe laughs, in shock, opening and closing his mouth, wanting nothing more than to leave with Sander. But he’s sure everyone is watching them from the inside, wanting to know what’s going on. The second they get inside and go straight to the front door, he knows his friends will tease them about it. Every time they stop talking, Robbe can almost be sure that the music inside is a little too low for a party.

And it still feels uncertain, how they’ll feel about this once they’re awake tomorrow, thinking more clearly, the adrenaline of finally seeing each other and fixing what they can of their problems out of their system after a good night of sleep and hours to get rid of all the alcohol they drank.

“Yes.” He exhales like he’s been holding his breath since Sander left in that plane years ago. Even if he’s scared, his brain doesn’t seem to give him any other option because why would he say no to running away with Sander?

Sander grabs the bottle from the floor and Robbe pushes himself to stand up properly, turning around to push the glass door open, hearing the soft music playing inside quickly embrace them too - definitely too low for a party - and he can only hope the balcony door has a level of soundproofing. He can’t look at anyone in the eyes so he makes a bee line to the front door with no excuse in mind, hoping Sander is following him.

He can’t hear a single comment or a laugh but he can feel the anticipation of everyone noticing how they are already leaving, and together, and he laughs under his breath, rushing past the door, closing it behind him, waiting outside, not even sure at this point if this was what he was supposed to do.

Sander appears after a long, nerve wracking minute, closing the door behind him, smiling at Robbe.

“Did they say anything?” Robbe asks, feeling dumb for staying outside even if just for another second. Anyone can come out and make fun of them.

“Noor came with me to the door. She was staring and not saying a word and they were laughing. I’m pretty sure some advice was whispered but I wasn’t paying that much attention to take notes. You want me to go back inside and check…?” He points back, threatening to go back inside and Robbe holds the sleeve of his jacket.

“No!”

Sander laughs and Robbe shakes his head, blushing, rushing downstairs, finally. It does feel like an escape, makes his heart beat fast and he laughs when he hears Sander’s snort echoing around the building.

He holds the massive front door open for Sander and they start walking home. They know where they’re going and to do what but Robbe can't bring himself to kiss Sander on the street like he so badly wants to do it.

“Use condoms, you dirty boys!” Moyo screams, half his body out from the apartment window and Milan appears too.

“And lube! Lube, Robbe!”

“Will do.” Sander doesn’t scream back, but answers anyway, loud enough for anyone on the sidewalk level to hear, showing his thumb up to the boys that wave back to them and blow kisses.

“That wasn’t embarrassing.” Robbe smiles, looking around them, a little more at peace when he doesn’t find anyone on the street or looking at them from any window.

“It could be worse.”

“How, exactly?”

“They could be coming with us to buy those things…” Robbe laughs because that would really be a lot, a lot worse.

Robbe bites his bottom lip, walking sideways to look at Sander.

“So you don’t have condoms...or lube…?” He frowns, very ashamed to be asking.

“I didn’t want to assume anything coming here tonight.”

“Good. Right. You’re right.”

“Thank you.” Robbe is still thinking about them, stopping to buy condoms and lube on their way home, when he feels Sander’s hand going from one of his shoulders to the other one, finally hugging him, pulling Robbe to face him, walking back, hoping Sander is looking at where they are going.

“Fuck, I miss you, Robbe.”

“I miss you too.” Robbe feels their hearts beating almost just as fast and as loud against each other, and he puts his arms around Sander’s waist inside his jacket, pressing them closer, looking up in a quiet way to ask for a kiss, “I can’t believe you’re home.”

[ancientwastedlores]

Undone by “Darling”

REQUEST (from @november-solarstorms​): Celebrating another year of this earth being braced by Tom Hiddleston's presence! Lol. Might I make a prompt request? I feel as though it would be interesting to read from Loki's POV to explore the dynamics between him and a human female who is just as intelligent as he. She has a sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Her sarcastic and clever nature enable her to out-banter Tony Stark, the king of snark himself (may he rest in peace). But she is also just as flirtatious and salacious. She never blushes, never falters, and is incredibly clever. You can decide the nature of their encounter. Really im just in it for a good game of cat and mouse.

A/N: Okay, I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!! And yeah, this will run a bit longer than my usual fics lol. Also, there IS a Loki POV, just keep reading thaaanks <3

WARNINGS: none. 

WORD COUNT: 1,932

____________________________________________________________________

Undone by “Darling” 

17 hours and 6 white chocolate mochas later, it was finally ready - an upgraded version of Corvus Glaive’s glaive, this one spec-ed out to your fancies and requirements. It was a beast, and definitely not something Nick Fury would ever let you play around with, even if you made it. 

Satisfied with your work, you remove your safety goggles and grin at Stark, who is working on his own weapon he scavenged from the Black Order. 

‘I’m done!’ you say triumphantly, causing him to look up and groan.  ‘How did you finish before me!?’ he lowers his glasses and looks at your weapon.  ‘I’m smarter’ you say.   ‘I went to MIT’  ‘And I didn’t, yet here we are, both in the same lab’. 

He shakes his head, not unlike a petulant child, causing you to laugh. 

‘How far along are you?’ you ask.  ‘Still running diagnostics’.  ‘Still!?’  ‘Have you seen the size of his hammer?’ he gestures to Cull Obsidian’s chain hammer on his work table, but the innuendo doesn’t escape you and you grin at him. He facepalms. ‘Y/n, for god’s sake...’  ‘You’re just tired, or you’d appreciate the joke too’. 

You stretch your weary body and let out a deep breath. You’d test the weapon out tomorrow, but for now, you need a nap. 

‘Take a load off, Stark. Hammer’ll be there tomorrow’.  ‘Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you...’ he puts his goggles back on and get to work. 

xx

Loki’s POV: 

Humans are surprising, but I always knew that. I never thought them boring, even if my brother says I do. Humans are of so little power but such incredible resilience that it’s frankly astonishing. I am inclined to believe that sometimes resilience is just stupidity... in most cases, I am right. But that’s not to say I haven’t come across some truly brave people. 

Take the Avengers Tower, for example. 

Just in here, you have Y/n, a brave soldier with the mind of an intergalactic scavenger, and I do mean that as a compliment. She’s awfully clever, she can build better than Stark, and has a track record of finishing every mission to perfection and before time. And then you have the Super Soldier Steve Rogers, a big muscled, big hearted idiot who often mistakes challenging our enemies for bravery and morality. 

The two couldn’t be more different, but they get along like siblings. Not siblings like Thor and I... better adjusted, perhaps. 

They sit in front of me, talking about some mission while they play Chess. Her moves are quick but calculated, his take more time because he’s more interested in telling his story than playing the game. 

‘...so there I am, no weapons, no shield, bang in the middle of the Serpent Citadel...’ 

He’s a good storyteller, I’ll give him that. But not as good as Y/n. She paints quite a picture, full of delicious gory details and horribly dark jokes. 

‘Steve, you have to pay attention, you’re losing’ she says.  ‘Yeah, I don’t actually know how to play chess, I just wanted you to listen to my story’. 

She looks up at him, almost offended. ‘STEVE...’  ‘Cool, I’m gonna go wrap Stark into a game of Battleships and tell him about my fight with Copperhead’. 

She laughs as he leaves the room, and she puts the chess pieces away. 

‘We could play?’ I ask her.  ‘Is the God in a mood to lose?’  ‘Over confidence isn’t attractive in anybody’. ‘Oh darling, neither is telling someone what is and isn’t attractive’. 

She’s never called me that before, and in the context it should seem cutting, but it isn’t. ‘Darling?’  ‘Problem?’  ‘It’s quite a term of endearment to set someone straight’. 

She says nothing. 

‘Cat got your tongue?’ I tease her. She only smiles and continues putting the pieces away neatly. Stark’s chess set is gold and black, all individually carved pieces. The pawns are all Iron Man suits, but that’s to be expected. She handles them with the care Stark would. 

‘I mean...’ I continue, ‘honestly, if someone heard, they’d never let you live it down’. 

And she carries on, unbothered. 

‘Y/n!’  ‘Oh dear, look at you come completely undone with just one term of endearment’ she comments, shutting the chess set. ‘Whatever would happen if I held your hand?’ 

The very thought of it seemed to drain my brain of blood. I unwillingly glanced at her hands, working the lock mechanism of the box, her blue veins prominent. 

‘Cat got your tongue?’ she asked. 

I stood up, the human emotion of embarrassment becoming too familiar for me. ‘I’ll have to see you at lunch’.  ‘Sure, darling’. 

Oh, I hate how she’s enjoying this. 

----------

The next day, Y/n booked a training room to test out the Glaive, and Stark had a rusty but working chain hammer. Steve insists on trying it out anyway, and now our breakfast is being spent on discouraging him from doing that. 

‘Guys... if nothing else, I’ll still have my shield. Let me test it out!’  ‘Y/n’s glaive cuts through Vibranium, you know that, right?’ Stark says.  ‘Y/n wouldn’t do that’. ‘Oh yes she would’ Y/n says nonchalantly as she sinks her teeth into a bacon and egg sandwich. 

As she does, the yolk runs down her fingers. She makes a sound at the inconvenience and sets the sandwich down, then grabs a napkin. I’m hardly ever crude, but the energy it took not to take her hand and lick off the yolk myself could burn every star in the galaxy. 

Captain America scrunches his nose at her remark, severely offended. 

‘In any case, that shield barely covers your giant body. It will force Stark to make you a new one’.  ‘What do you care about his giant body’ Stark says.  ‘It’s America’s ass, Tony’ she takes a sip of her iced coffee. Steve blushes, and Tony rolls his eyes. 

----------

The training facility is magic, of course, somewhere between a mirror dimension and Wanda’s reality powers creating a safe cocoon inside the building so no one can be harmed. Y/n hardly trusted anybody to fight with her except Thor, but given the nature of Corvus’ Glaive, she knew magic would be required. 

And so she called me. 

After getting into my battle armour, I stepped into the facility, equipped with my sceptre and the teachings of the witches of Asgard. 

She whistles as I walk in. ‘Trying to distract me from killing you?’  ‘Are you?’ I ask. She’s dressed in a black bodysuit, details of purple in her belt and weapon harnesses.  ‘Why yes, I am. Glad you noticed’. 

The glaive is on the floor, and she stomps her foot on one part of it so it swivels up and neatly places itself in her hand. She smiles. 

‘Try to keep up. I’m not just looking for eye candy in a training partner, darling’ she says, getting into battle stance. 

With nothing left to say for the second time this week, I aim the sceptre at her and the stone at the end glows. 

She charges and I shoot at her, but she spins the glaive and creates a shield which absorbs the energy. 

She continues to charge at me. I shoot again, and again the glaive takes the hit. Not a scratch on her. 

Once she comes closer, she simply places the flat end of the weapon against my chest, sending me hurtling back into a wall. 

She spins the glaive and laughs. 

‘Compliments of Wakanda. It absorbs any hits and charges up with kinetic energy’. 

I get up on my feet. This is far from over. I create multiple illusions to surround her, all of them brandishing knives, Chitauri tech, and sceptres. 

‘Damn, suddenly my whole evening has opened up’ she says, looking around.

Even my clones look around at each other puzzled. 

‘Come on then, who’s up?’ she spins the glaive around. ‘One at a time or all at once, baby’. 

They charge at her, and I expected her to fight them off at once... instead she plants the staff on the ground and ducks, and a semi-circle shell grows from the top of the staff, down to the floor... like a mini fortress, completely impenetrable. It could, no doubt, continue to take hits and build up kinetic energy, so I call off the clones. 

She gets up and retracts the shell. ‘Nanotech’ she grins at me. ‘The whole shell sits in a disk. It can withstand bombs and even a moon’.  ‘Is there any tech you haven’t adopted?’  ‘I’m an intergalactic scavenger, aren’t I?’ 

I stare at her, horrified. Can she read minds? 

‘Maybe I can. Or maybe I heard you tell Stark when he was complaining about me finishing my weapon first’. 

Silence. 

‘Also, darling, you’re awfully predictable in your fighting’. 

She picks up every trick and tech she sees, so beating her is less about weapons and more about cunning. 

No problem. Cunning is my specialty. 

‘Ready now?’ she asks.  ‘Mhm’. 

She takes a deep breath to ready herself, her eyes shutting slightly. Once they open back up, she stares in shock. 

In my Jotun form, I give her my most menacing smile.

She cocks her head to the side, studying my icy blue skin. 

The illusion I cast of myself approaches behind her, dagger in hand. Once it’s close enough and I can almost taste my victory, she raises the glaive and in one swift motion, sticks it into its abdomen. 

The illusion disappears into green light. 

‘Cute’ she remarks. She points the glaive at me. ‘What else you got for me?’  I shift back to my Asgardian form and sigh. ‘You win’. 

Y/n laughs and lowers her weapon. ‘Oh darling, I won the second you walked in wearing all that leather’. She winks at me, then walks out of the facility. I feel a blush creep to my face, much against my will. 

-------------

‘Maybe you should stick to your guns, Tony’ Y/n says, ‘Fancy suits is it for you, chain hammers may be overshooting it’.  ‘Is that what they taught you in the back alley you learnt ironmongery from?’  ‘Yes! Do you want their number, I’m sure they’ll have a spot on the waiting list for you’. 

Ah. Y/n’s relationship with Stark seemed more like mine with Thor. While they banter, Steve and Natasha tear up from laughing. I wouldn’t go so far as to call this domestic, but it certainly is comfortable. 

‘Come on, the glaive can’t be that good, right Loki?’ Stark asks. 

The company looks at me expectantly. ‘To say her weapon isn’t good enough means to insult your own tech, Stark. Everything about it is founded on your theories’. 

‘So technically, it’s my brain that made the glaive so cool’ he tells Y/n.  ‘Yeah, you could say that. The glaive comes from the same mind that manufactured Captain America’s dinner plate’. 

Steve doesn’t find that one funny, but Natasha does, sending her into peals of laughter. 

‘Oh whatever’ Tony huffs. ‘I’m going back to the lab’. 

He stands up and Y/n grabs his arm. ‘Aww Tony, I’m just kidding!’ she pats his hand, ‘Look, you’re a brilliant inventor, we all have our slow days’. 

He sighs and nods, and holds her hand. ‘Thanks... I guess I’m just not in my element, you know?’  ‘Yeah...’ she keeps patting his hand. 

And the feeling of domesticity creeps in. We really are all a family. Y/n smiles encouragingly at Tony, and Tony seems more relaxed. 

‘So, you want me to get you the number of that ironmongery, or...?’  ‘OH FOR...’ he snatches his arm away and storms out of the room, with Steve and Nat losing it all over again. 

___________________________________________________________

Ah this was so fun!!!!!!!! I hope you guys liked it <3 

MASTERLIST HERE

ASK BOX OPEN FOR FIC REQUESTS. Find GUIDELINES HERE.

[lizamango]

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 2/?

A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve decided to call this fic Finding You, just to inform you for future chapters! Getting my second vaccine tomorrow!! 😁🤩

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp​, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies

Word Count: 2345 (this is so fucking satisfying omg)

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Warnings: Just curse words, rewrites are hard but it’s kinda like shifting but through fanfiction??

Chapter Summary: Steve Rogers doesn’t trust you very much

Chapter 2: BUT YOU KNOW BETTER

On our way back, the STRIKE team is on celebration mode while Rogers is quiet. It won’t be a surprise if he goes to see Fury about the side mission I was assigned without his knowing. As we land on the Triskelion landing pad I watch as Captain Rogers leaves without a goodbye and heads to, undoubtedly, Fury’s office.

I tune into Fury’s communicator.

“Heads up, Fury. Angry Cap on your way. He found out about my mission.”

“Batroc?” he asks.

“He got away,” I answer regrettably.

“I’ll have international agents on high alert. You’ve done your part. Just leave the drive with me after Rogers.”

“Yes sir.”

I put all the weapons into the cache and go to clean up, changing out of my stealth suit and into a SHIELD hoodie and sweats that I keep in the locker for after missions. I wait by Fury’s office doors and he finally emerges from the elevator without an angry Cap.

“Gave him a little tour of Project Insight,” he says as he unlocks his office.

I walk in behind him. “That’s brave of you.”

“He didn’t like it.” He takes a seat and so did I.

“I’m sure he didn’t.” I fish out the hard drive and put it on the table. “One super secret hard drive for Nicholas J Fury,” I announce like a waitress.

“Good job.”

“He didn’t think so.”

“I want you to keep an eye on him. Just make sure he doesn’t do anything, alright?”

“What could he possibly do?” I raise my brows.

“He isn’t on board. I need you to get him there.”

“Don’t you already have an agent assigned to him?”

“Agent 13 is for when he’s off duty. You will be there for when he’s on.”

I scoff. “Have you met the guy? That’s all the time.”

“That’s an order, Agent.”

I nod. “Fine. Have you heard anything else on HYDRA?”

“The last reliable intel we have is three years old now, Y/N. It’s hard to track them down.”

“I don’t understand why you had to take me out. I was getting close to something. Someone. I don’t know.”

“Finding the world’s greatest soldier just took precedent. You weren’t getting anywhere for a whole year. Whatever it was, they packed it up tight.”

“Because it was something big,” I defend. “I still think you made the wrong choice. Captain America doesn’t need two babysitters.”

“Well, you try being asleep and waking up 70 years after to a whole new world and see how you feel. You’re dismissed. Get some rest. Make nice with the old man.”

I get up and leave his office. Make nice…. How do I do that when he doesn’t trust me anymore?

I get a ride home from Fitz who congratulated me on completing the mission.

“So what was he like?”

“He doesn’t like me very much,” I chuckle.

“Why not? What did you do?” he asks in an accusing tone.

“Me?!”

“He’s the perfect man, what could he have done?”

I roll my eyes but don’t answer. We arrive at my apartment and I thank Fitz for the ride back.

Unlocking my door I go straight to the bathroom for a bath. I run the water to the perfect temperature and add a bath bomb that turns the water a glittery lilac scented with lavender. I also light a candle that crackles like a fireplace that emits a subtle smokey French vanilla. A girl’s gotta treat herself. After a good long soak I get out and decide to rest up not wanting to do anything for the rest of the day.

I wake from my nap to the ringing of my phone. Reaching over to my bedside table I read the screen which has nothing but the number 1212. Well, that can’t be good.

“This is L/N,” I say.

“I need you to find the star. Keep your guard up.”

Shit, I think as I jump out of bed and get dressed in something inconspicuous. Black trousers, leather combat boots, a Kevlar vest under a back hoodie, two pistols on my belt and a knife tucked in each boot. I pick up a grey Von Dutch trucker hat on my way out.

Walking is the safest option so I navigate toward Steve Rogers’ DC apartment that he was relocated to after the New York Invasion as he decided to become a full time SHIELD agent.

I arrive outside his apartment and see Sharon on her way out.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Mission. Waiting for the Captain,” I say. I look at her scrubs. “How you liking the infectious disease ward?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Well it’s just a uniform. I guess it’s better than people shooting armour piercing bullets at me.”

“I’ll see you ‘round, Kate,” I wave, using her alias.

I track Steve’s whereabouts on my phone and see that he’s at a counselling centre for veterans. Fair enough, it’s good to admit you need help.

What do you want me to do here, Fury? I wonder to myself. I decide to do a perimeter check for any bugs, wire taps or double agents.

I reach an alleyway and after peering into it I hear the scraping of a manhole against the ground. I reach for my gun and keep it to the side as I slowly approach it.

I hear a grunt and raise the gun.

“Agent,” I immediately recognize the voice as Fury’s. “Stand down.”

“Shit, Fury.” I holster the gun and help him out of the manhole. “What happened, who did this?”

“Not safe,” he says in pain.

“W-where do we go? Rogers isn’t inside.” I inspect his wounds. “Looks like you have multiple fractures on your left arm and abdominal bruising-“

“Car ambush,” he utters as he approaches the fire escape. “Stay out here, keep a look out.” He pushes a phone into my hand, I don’t recognize it as his day to day. “Anything happens, secure line 0405. I have to… get to Rogers. Do not engage unless enemies fire first.”

“Fury-“

“That’s an order.”

I put the phone into my back pocket and stay behind as he climbs up and through the Captain’s Window.

The sky is starting to darken so I make my way through the perimeter again. Sharon returns and shortly after that, Rogers arrives, weary but alert. Just as a soldier would.

I hear some 40s music coming from the walls of the Captain’s apartment. I suppose he heard it too and got suspicious because he exits his apartment building to climb up the very same fire escape that Fury did.

My eyes follow him up and survey the roof of the building for any suspicious activity.

Suddenly three shots are fired right into one of the apartment building’s walls.

“Fuck!” I whisper, looking for the source.

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs,” I hear one of my comms come through. It’s Sharon’s voice.

“Do we have a 20 on the shooter?” a dispatcher responds.

Before I know it, Captain Rogers is jumping out of his window and into the building the shots came from.

“Captain Rogers is in pursuit,” Agent Carter says.

I follow the Captain as he runs through a building following the shooter while he runs on the roof. They don’t fight but Rogers manages to throw the shield at him and does what some would say impossible as he catches it and throws it back just as hard. I stop where I am and just observe which is what Fury wanted me here for. The shooter jumps from the building and it looks like he catches himself using his… metal… arm. I look up and see Rogers standing at the edge of the rooftop, looking back down the shooter is out of sight.

“Transporting Foxtrot to BridgePoint Hospital Capitol Hill,” the dispatcher says from my comms. After sweeping the place one more time for any sign of the shooter and coming up empty I decide to take a cab to the hospital.

I put out an arm but it’s not a cab that stops in front of me.

“Get in, L/N.”

“Hill?” I get into the passenger’s seat and she starts to drive. “You’re supposed to be –“

“Fury called.”

“He was shot.”

“I know. Ballistics will tell us more at the hospital.”

“He’s gonna be okay,” I say but it’s more for my comfort than hers.

We arrive at the hospital and Maria takes a phone call while I find his room number, viewing the operation through the glass. Rogers is already there.

“Is he gonna make it?” I ask the Captain.

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me about the shooter.”

“He’s fast. Strong. Had a metal arm.”

“Ballistics?” I ask, knowing he can hear Hill’s conversation outside.

“Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable,” he answers and looks at me.

Hill enters.

“Soviet-made,” I add as I put the picture together in my head.

“How did you know?”

I don’t get to answer her as the surgeons and nurses say that Fury’s in V-tach and rush to solve the problem.

“Fuck’s sake, Fury,” I whisper. “Don’t do this.” My hands start to shake as they lose his pulse and can’t bring him back. I notice that I’m mumbling something repeatedly but I can’t realise what.

I feel Rogers leave as the team gives up.

“Time of death, 1:03am,” the doctor calls.

I watch them wheel him out as Hill goes too. Taking a deep breath, I walk outside into the hallway.

“How did you know they were soviet-made?” Rogers asks, following me.

“Do you trust me?” I ask him, turning to face him.

“No. How did you know?”

“Why are you asking me when you don’t trust me?”

“Why are you dodging the question?”

“Cap!” Rumlow calls. “They want you back at SHIELD.”

“Give me a minute.”

“They want you now.”

“Okay,” he replies irritated.

“You’re not gonna ask me what Nick was doing in my apartment?” he asks.

“I know what he was doing there. Do you?” I raise a brow and turn on my heel, walking away.

I see Maria in the viewing room with Fury’s… body.

“I need to take him,” she says. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, alright?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not a child, Maria.”

“Do you want a ride anywhere?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“What, you’re just gonna hang around here until Rogers comes back?”

Yes that’s exactly what I was going to do. “No.”

She chuckles and walks away. I wait for all the SHIELD and STRIKE agents to clear out of the floor to go back into the waiting area. I go to the vending machine to pick up a snack and notice something that shouldn’t be there… the drive I gave Fury with SHIELD intel hidden behind three packets of bubble gum. Frowning I buy out the stack until the drive also falls to the dispenser. I take a seat, waiting for Rogers.

I don’t realise when I fell asleep until someone shakes me gently.

“I heard.”

I look up and it’s Sharon. “Hey.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you have an assignment debriefing to give?” I reply.

She shrugs. “That can wait. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Did you wanna know what Fury was doing at Rogers’ apartment too?” I ask, suspicious.

“Do you know?”

I nod.

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

“Fury trusts – trusted him,” I correct myself. “That means we have to.”

A beeping comes from her wrist communicator and she sighs. “I have to go. I’ll keep you in the loop about what happens at the Triskelion.”

I frown. “Why would I need to be kept in the loop?”

“Because I know you’re gonna be on the run, soon. With him. To find that shooter. Pierce won’t like that you’re after him outside of mission directives…”

“I know. You be careful, Sharon.”

She smiles stiffly and I know it’s because she’s worried about me. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were being careless and rash.”

“But you know better.”

She chuckles softly and turns to leave. I get up walk around to stretch my legs. Where the fuck is Rogers?

An hour passes and I’m back where I started but I see the man of the hour stop in front of the vending machine. I pop a strip of gum in my mouth and walk up behind him, blowing a bubble.

His face sharpens and he sighs then pulls me by the arm and takes us into a room.

“Where is it?”

“Safe.”

“Do better.”

“Fury trusted me. I’m on your side if he trusts you.”

“He doesn’t trust anyone. That’s the problem. That’s why he’s dead,” he says harshly.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat.

Rogers sighs and pulls away. “What’s on it?”

“I don’t know.”

“I bet you knew Fury hired the Pirates didn’t you?” he accuses.

No, no I didn’t. Stunned, I blink at the news. “Made sense. The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you.”

“How did you know it was Soviet-made?” he repeats his earlier question, losing patience.

“I know who killed Fury,” I say. “The metal arm… I knew as soon as I saw it. 2009, Natasha had a mission in Odessa. Someone shot out her tires and killed the engineer she was protecting by shooting right through her. Soviet slug, no rifling. Metal arm. The intelligence community call him The Winter Soldier. I’ve heard him as the Asset. That’s who killed Fury.”

“How do we find him?”

“He’s been credited with two dozen assassinations in the last 50 years, Rogers. You don’t go after him. I’ve tried.”

He looks up at that, as if surprised. But he doesn’t know half the shit I’ve been through while working for SHIELD.

“So he’s a shadow.”

“Was.” I pull the drive out of my pocket and hold it up to him.

“Let’s find the Asset, then.”

 💖

Thank you for reading! I’ll update once I’ve finished Chapter 4 but I am busy this weekend!

Chapter 3

[robininthelabyrinth]

Silver Mist - part 3/3 - ao3  or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

warning: adult content, read the ao3 tags

Every enchantment had a weak point.

There was a reason there were more cultivators than foxes out there, why even the cleverest fox had to hide behind a human mask and pretend to some level of decency – why Nie Huaisang had been so careful with playing with his brother, his most favorite and most precious of people. There would come a time when he got weakened, or distracted, or something, and suddenly all his enchantments would slip through his fingers, breaking down, and he’d be left with nothing but what he earned fair and square.

(Nie Huaisang’s mother, the second Madame Nie, had disappeared right after he’d been born, and yet it was Nie Mingjue’s mother that everyone said went away, that everyone recalled leaving, not his – his mother was the one they all said had died.)

Nie Huaisang lived in fear of that moment.

When his brother burned his fans in a rage, he thought – this is it. He’s remembered.

He hates me now.

It was all so very frustrating, too, because he’d finally settled everything just the way he liked it: his da-ge in his life and in his bed, feeding him with his heart and body and happy to see him flourish. It was all he needed in life, just that and nothing more. Sure, Nie Huaisang loved the gifts his brother’s sworn brothers brought for him – he’d always been spoiled beyond belief, and never saw any reason to change. It was ironic, really, that it was Jin Guangyao’s gifts that his brother always found fault with, not Lan Xichen’s which were just as multitudinous, but perhaps it was because he needed to wheedle and whine and beg for gifts from Jin Guangyao.

With Lan Xichen, he just needed to smile.

(Lan Xichen was always weak to a smile. Back at the Cloud Recesses, during the war, his weak protests had died at once at the sight of a smug little curl of the lip as Nie Huaisang pressed him down and climbed on top of him –)

Lan Xichen’s ears didn’t turn red the way Lan Wangji’s did, nor did he duck his head and grin the way Wei Wuxian did, Nie Huaisang observed judiciously, but that didn’t mean he could hide his embarrassment at the very sight of Nie Huaisang, and that made it very easy indeed to talk him into buying Nie Huaisang all the gifts he could possibly want with barely any protest. Maybe a But your brother - that quickly cut off when Nie Huaisang pressed his fan to his lips, but nothing more, and then he’d go above and beyond to find an excuse to take Nie Huaisang shopping for anything that caught his eyes.

But Jin Guangyao…

Sometimes Nie Huaisang would swear that his san-ge gave him all those gifts in front of his da-ge on purpose, the sneaky little minx, even though he knew Nie Mingjue would only rage at him for it.

Nie Huaisang’s presents burned, and he shouted and screamed and fled and cried, and he waited in his da-ge’s bedroom shivering in fear but unwilling to back down. He was a Nie, after all, and being a fox didn’t make him any less that.

“Huaisang?” his brother said, coming in through the door.

He looked – tired.

Tired, not angry; his eyes were bloodshot and he appeared to be in pain – his da-ge, his brave and bold da-ge who feared nothing, in pain!

“Da-ge, what’s wrong?” Nie Huaisang said fitfully, deciding to ignore… everything, at least for the moment. “Why are you like this? What happened?”

“I don’t –” His brother rubbed at his face. “I don’t know. I – I got so angry –”

His nose was bleeding, Nie Huaisang noticed, and frowned. “Da-ge?”

Maybe this wasn’t about what he’d been doing at all.

“Da-ge, come here,” he said, and his brother came to him. “Lie down,” he said, and his brother obeyed, free and clear and of his own volition. “What’s wrong with you?”

“The saber spirit,” Nie Mingjue said dully, staring up at the ceiling. “I thought I’d have longer.”

Nie Mingjue had never explained the exact details of their family’s cultivation technique, only postponed discussing it, and so Nie Huaisang had known there was something wrong with it – his brother only ever shared good things with him, while shielding him from the bad. He’d taught him everything he could, omitting only the last few details, and thus it was in those details that the problem lay.

As if Nie Huaisang couldn’t guess, when every generation of his ancestors had died from a qi deviation.

He scowled.

“It can’t be,” he said, settling down next to his brother on the bed. “You haven’t even been cultivating it that much, recently. Not more than your usual training.”

“Maybe it’s the war?” his brother wondered aloud. “After-effects, only becoming apparent once my cultivation increased further –”

“But the recent increase in your cultivation isn’t even because of saber cultivation!” Nie Huaisang argued. “You’ve been helping me, instead; it’s completely different, a totally different approach. A problem with one method wouldn’t affect an increase in your cultivation through another.”

His brother frowned.

“Huaisang,” he said, his brow furrowing, his eyes clear and thinking – thinking and realizing. “Your new cultivation ‘technique’…”

…oops.

“It’s only because I love you so much, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said at once, immediately pulling himself up and over to straddle on Nie Mingjue’s lap. It gave him an unfortunate view into the expression of shock and no little bit of horror currently forming on his brother’s face, but he needed any advantage he could get – he wouldn’t be able to pull his brother into the trance state like this, not when he’d realized, not when he was fully sober. Nie Huaisang had gotten stronger since they’d started this, but not strong enough to beat his brother when his brother was trying. “Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t I show you how much I love you?”

“Huaisang! There are – you can’t – you’re not allowed to love me that much!”

“Why not?” Nie Huaisang said, and when his da-ge tried to sit up he put his hand on his chest and pushed him back down. Maybe it was the angle, maybe it was the surprise, maybe it was just that his brother wasn’t really trying, but he managed it, and immediately a short sharp shock went straight to his cock. “Why not? Who’s it hurting?”

“Who is it – me! You’re doing it to me!”

“And sometimes you do it to me, what’s your point?” Nie Huaisang said, breezing past the fact that his brother wasn’t referring to penetration at all. “If we keep it discreet, no one will learn from our bad example, and you weren’t really looking for a spouse anyway, were you? You always wanted to leave the sect to me. Why shouldn’t I have you? I want you.”

“Huaisang –”

Nie Huaisang ground his hips down and felt the answering twitch. “It’s too late, anyway,” he said, and his brother stared up at him. “Look at you. I’ve already ruined you – you’ve got my words in your brain, in your core. You’ve had my cock up your ass and you’ve loved it, you get hard just thinking about my cock in your mouth –”

“Because you put it in my head.”

“Just because I put it there doesn’t mean it’s not still there,” Nie Huaisang said, and leaned forward to press his lips to his brother’s neck. “It’s still in there, da-ge. And if it is, then what’s the point of not letting me have you? Haven’t I been taking good care of you, all this time? And look at where it’s gotten us: you sleep better, you eat better, you have the strength to train, I’m stronger than ever before… I’m a good didi, da-ge, I’m your good didi.”

His brother was weakening. Nie Huaisang could feel it in his heartbeat.

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” he whispered, intimate as the lover he had made himself into. “I took advantage of you. There’s nothing to be afraid of, nothing to be guilty for. The act’s already been done, plenty of times – the line’s been crossed, and there’s no going back. There’s only the way forward.”

“Huaisang…”

“Don’t I have your heart?” Nie Huaisang demanded. His fingernails were like claws where they dug into his brother’s chest as if to rip it out himself, his teeth like fangs filling his mouth; he didn’t know what his face looked like right now and he didn’t care. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted – a cultivator as righteous as his brother would be a prize for any fox, any yao, any creature bent against humanity, but all Nie Huaisang wanted was what his brother had always given him freely. “You love me, you love me. Give me your heart and I’ll be happy. Da-ge, I’ll be so happy, you don’t even know, it’s everything I’ve always wanted and more. You give me anything and everything, you always have. Give me this, too.”

“I can’t,” his brother whispered, and it was only I can’t because he couldn’t make it I won’t. “Huaisang…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Nie Huaisang coaxed him. “I know you love me, and that’s enough. You don’t have to go against everything you are, da-ge, I’d never ask that of you. All I need you to do – the only thing you need to do – you know already, don’t you? You know what you need to do for me.”

Nie Mingjue did know.

All he had to do was let go, give in, and let the words already swirling beneath his skin come to the surface, sink willingly down into the quiet world where Nie Huaisang was master absolute, and Nie Huaisang would make sure that he never felt bad about any of it. Not ever again.

“Give me your heart,” Nie Huaisang said. “Please, da-ge.”

His da-ge’s heart, whole and entire with nothing held back, was the best thing he’d ever gotten.

-

The art of deception was misdirection.

Change one thing in a room at a time, and in time no one would notice that they were in a different room entirely. Set water simmering slowly, and the crabs would cook without ever thinking of escape. Dress up as a god and play the demon to confuse –

Nie Huaisang knew how to play with the hearts of men, for good or for evil, and in comparison their eyes were nothing much. A talisman for illusions, a mimicry of mannerisms – it was easy enough to pretend to be his brother, who was sleeping so sweetly in his bed. A deep sleep, a healing sleep; his poor brother’s meridians were all twisted up into something like a nightmare, but it wasn’t anything that they couldn’t straight out over time, together. All he needed was some sleep and some peace, and Nie Huaisang could give him both, so he did.

His brother had stirred briefly, hearing the siren call of duty, but Nie Huisang was a better siren by far. He promised him that it would be handled, and his brother trusted him to see it done – and he would.

No one knew that the Nie listening coldly to their requests wasn’t the right one.

Not even Jin Guangyao, who came with his head bowed and his demeanor meek, setting up his guqin to play music designed to provide clarity – he expected Nie Mingjue to be there, steady as a rock and just as unshakable, and so, to all appearances, he was. There was no reason to check any further.

He played.

Nie Huaisang listened, his eyes narrowing in a smile – oh, san-ge, he sighed. Oh, Meng Yao.

I always knew we were too much the same.

He did nothing, though, nothing but wait for the song to finish and Jin Guangyao to take his leave, bowing, and then he said, “Will you spend some time with Nie Huaisang today, before you return? He’s still upset from yesterday and not speaking to me.”

Why would he be speaking to his da-ge now? His brother was asleep, just as he ought to be, and speaking to him would only wake him.

Jin Guangyao had been expecting this, too. “Of course, da-ge,” he murmured, and Nie ‘Mingjue’ scowled, Nie Huisang scowled – no one who wanted to really hurt his brother deserved to use that term.

“Dismissed,” he said, and waited until Jin Guangyao left to remove the disguise, drifting out after him, calling, “San-ge!”

Jin Guangyao turned with a smile and Nie Huaisang threw himself forward, wrapping himself around his sworn brother-by-proxy’s dominant arm – he could use both, but he had a preference if you cared to look – and immediately burst out into chatter, complaints and stuff and nonsense, wailing on and on and on about how wronged he had been.

His voice modulated itself into a melody, the cadence quickening and slowing, rising and falling, infused with his own very special cultivation, and it wasn’t that much different from what it normally was – and Jin Guangyao wasn’t really listening to him anymore, anyway, not any more than it took to respond with a few hums of sympathy and the occasional word of consolation.  Why would he? The situation wasn’t anything different from normal, from the boring and mundane and uninteresting, what with there being complaining and whining and Nie Huaisang, a younger brother that he trusted, even if only to be a complete idiot. Absolutely harmless.

Jin Guangyao wasn’t the cultivation genius Nie Mingjue was, but he’d had a very long way to go to catch up; he wouldn’t have made it to where he was now if he hadn’t taught himself the habit of constantly cultivating, drawing in qi from the outside and channeling it inwards. He did so now, unconsciously, spreading the effect throughout his entire body, pulling him inch by inch into something nice and comfortable, pleasantly restful.

There was no need for schemes with Nie Huaisang, after all. He was so silly, so useless; he couldn’t even really be used, only indulged, like the little brother Meng Yao had never been able to afford to have growing up. Look at how dependent he was: scared to do anything else, wholly in the palm of his hand.  

There was nothing to fear.

There was only –

Listening.

Give me your heart.

[belit0]

Burned Love

Anonymous:

That fic with Itachi taking care of his s/o was so cute! X3 Can you do a short fic like that but with Izuna? Thank you!

Rating: G

Pairing: [Uchiha Izuna / Reader]

Tw: none!

Additional Characters: [Uchiha Shisui] [Uchiha Madara]

For the past two weeks, Izuna has been caught between clan issues and Madara’s temper. Due to his responsibilities, the time spent on his relationship with you has been strictly cut, bordering on nullity. Being a dedicated and loving boyfriend, the Uchiha is overflowing with guilt about the situation, and at the first opportunity to free himself, he intends to compensate you in the best way he can think of.

Cooking for you.

But you do remember that Izuna can’t actually cook, right? …

Good luck!

“What should we put first? Rice or water?”

“Why are you asking me? I called you to help me, not to make it more difficult Shisui.”

“I told you I had no idea what to do in a kitchen and you insisted…

"Yeah well, nobody else was available, so shut up and… I don’t know, Do something?”

“How long do we have until [Y/N] arrives?”

“Let me see… about half an hour, yep."

"WHAT?! HOW DUMB ARE YOU TO THINK WE CAN PULL THIS OFF IZUNA?!”

“What’s the problem? Our kitchen guy has our food ready in less time…”

“And why don’t we call him? You’re a fool if you think anything good is going to come of the two of us doing this.”

“Because that wouldn’t be romantic Shisui, use your brain. Tiger mind, tiger mind.”

“I’m only going along with this because you’re my favorite cousin, you know… whatever, let’s do it.”

“Yeah bro, let me turn on the… what’s it called… the thing that throws fire? And it’s for warmth? I can swear we have one…”

“An oven, Izuna. A fucking oven.”

“Are you reading my mind? So… how do you turn it on?”

“Well, I guess with fire in -”

“ Say no more, little cousin, we are Uchihas, remember?”

With all the unfounded confidence in the world, Izuna felt ready. Directing his body to the kitchen artifact, he made the hand seals of the most powerful Katon in the clan, and without any hesitation, fired his expert Jutsu into the oven. Within a minisecond, the entire wall of the kitchen was on fire, and the two Uchihas understood the future that lay ahead if they did not solve the problem.

“ARE YOU INSANE?! HOW CAN YOU THINK OF USING THAT TECHNIQUE INSIDE THE HOUSE, YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH!”

“I THOUGHT IT WOULD SPEED UP THE PROCESS, OKAY? MY BAD! WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES! IT CAN HAPPEN TO ALL OF US! DON’T YOU KNOW SOME KIND OF SUITON TO TURN IT OFF?”

“OF COURSE NOT! WHAT ABOUT YOU?! DIDN’T YOU LEARN ANYTHING FROM THAT TOBIRAMA RIVALRY?!”

“WATCH YOUR MOUTH YOU FUCKING IDIOT, I WOULD NEVER STOOP SO LOW AS TO LEARN THE SAME STYLE AS MY ENEMY. WAIT HERE.”

“IZUNA! WHAT THE FUCK! GET BACK HERE BEFORE THE HOUSE FALLS DOWN!”

In the midst of the fire, ashes and heat, Izuna walked as if nothing was happening until he was outside the house, analyzing the street. Quickly, he scanned the surroundings of the Uchiha territory, until he found a group of children playing with enthusiasm at some distance from the obvious chaos. At a steady pace, he walked up to them, and spoke in the sweetest, most childlike tone, perfectly trained for the youngest members of his family.

“What’s up, boys!”

“Izuna-Sama!” they all shouted in unison with great smiles.

“I have a very important question to ask you. Do you think you can answer it for me?”

Different answers were cheered in the air, all positive and excited. The group of young people was always happy to receive Izuna’s attention.

“That’s the way I like it! Now, listen carefully. Madara-Sama gave me a very veeery difficult mission that I could not complete… So I need help from some brave Shinobi to take my place! Tell me, have any of you already learned Suiton’s techniques at the academy?”

Two young kids, almost teenagers, shouted with courage and pride a strong “yes”.

“Very good! Follow me, gentlemen, it’s time to perform your first official mission.”

In more of a hurry to get back to the source of the flames, Izuna pressed on, followed by the children who would save his home. From the short distance, a column of smoke could be seen rising into the sky, and several curious heads were walking by and slowing more than necessary to take a look.

When they reached the door, the Uchiha showed the way to the boys inside. Addressing the small crowd he exclaimed.

“ There is nothing to see. It is a small mission drill, Madara-Sama’s orders. Please disperse, thank you very much. Have a good day!”

His friendly smile disappeared along with all the spectators, and a great concern attacked the features of the irresponsible Izuna. If Madara found out that he was spreading false orders in his name, or that he had set the house on fire, things would end up badly for him.

Without dissimulation, he ran to the kitchen, where Shisui, useless and perplexed by the new company of the infants, looked at them without understanding their presence. In his hand he held a long blanket that was completely burned, while his entire face and clothes were covered in black ash.

"This is the mission, boys. Show your water techniques and kill the fire!”

“Yes ¡Izuna-Sama!”

In order to please and make their superior proud, both children shot large amounts of water from their mouths into the burning wall. Their seals were quick and accurate, and both adult Uchihas were impressed with the future generation of Shinobis their clan had produced.

After the fire was extinguished, smoke took its place, and covered the entire house. The smell of burning was unmistakable and undeniable. The colour black scattered throughout the room was evidence of the facts.

“Good job, kids! Don’t tell Madara-Sama, the report must come only from me for being a bad Shinobi and not being able to complete his mission…”

“Don’t worry, Izuna-Sama, we’ll keep your secret!”

The two children ran out of the house with happiness and joy, feeling fulfilled as Ninjas for being able to help someone important in the clan.

“You set the house on fire, lied to two innocent babies, and involved me in all this, do you really expect Madara not to find out?”

“Shut up you idiot, I don’t plan to be here when my big brother arrives. Clean this up, will you?”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Look at me, L.O.O.K.A.T.M.E., I’m covered in ashes, dust and dirt, I smell bad, and removing traces of this is impossible without the help of another ninja. With all my love for you Izuna, I gotta say: fuck you. See you later”.

With anger and speed, Shisui left the ruined kitchen. After a few seconds, a slamming sound was heard at the front door. A knot formed in Izuna’s throat as he knew he would leave that monstrous scene in the hands of the first Uchiha to set foot in the house.

After taking a shower to eliminate the fact of his person, he heard the second victim arrive. He came down the stairs ready to leave as quickly as possible, and spoke without leaving room for answers when he came across another of his small cousins.

“Little Sasuke! Look I’m really in a hurry and I really have to go. In the kitchen there is a really huge mess that I couldn’t take care of and I really don’t know where it came from. You would really do me a huge favour if you could clean it up, ok? I really love you, bye.”

Passing by a stunned Sasuke who was coming home from training, he managed to slip out of the household without problems. By the time the Uchiha who was left in charge of his mess shouted in anger at finding out the truth, Izuna was too far away from the district to hear him.

With no stops or delays, he headed straight for your house, where he knew you would be preparing to meet him. When he reached the property, he knocked twice on the door with his special knock, the one that characterizes his presence in your home, and he was a little bit reassured to be received by you. Dressed in your house clothes, but with a towel holding your wet hair, a sign that you had just come out of the shower.

“Zuna? I thought it was at your house today… I must really be overdoing it to get confused like this”.

“Yeah, it WAS, at my house [Y/N], but… you know… Uchihas and their intensity… surprises… whatever. Can we stay here?”

Nodding your head as a mocking smile assaulted your face, you allowed him into your home. One of the most entertaining things about the Uchiha family was indeed the intensity of it, and the consequences it ended up creating.

Izuna sat down on the armchair, and when he was comfortable, you placed yourself on his lap in a familiar way.

“What happened this time?”

“I may have set something on fire… and I may have used children to fix it…”

“How long do you think we have until your brother shows up here claiming your head?”

“A full dinner. He was with Hashirama.”

Both laughing, and joining their lips in a soft kiss full of love. You stroked his neck, the back of his head, and ran your fingers through the hair of his ponytail. You noticed that it was poorly tied and somewhat uncombed, and it didn’t take you long to realize that it was thanks to the haste with which Izuna escaped the scene of his crime.

“Come here, you couldn’t even brush your hair Zuna.”

“Well, you know [Y/N], when most of your kitchen is destroyed and your house is full of smoke, there’s not much time to tie your hair.”

Getting off his lap, you sat on his back, where you proceeded to style it calmly. Taking your time and enjoying the beautiful silky feel of his hair in your hands, you tied his ponytail as it would normally look.

“You in the kitchen? And not to steal food before dinner time? What were you trying to do?”

“I… don’t want to explain.”

“Izuna… come on, it’s me. What could be so terrible?”

“I’m ashamed, I don’t want to, okay? Leave me alone.”

A slight shade of red attacked his cheeks, while his arms crossed over his chest just like his brother would, and his gaze went down to the ground.

“Pleaaaaaase?”

“[Y/N]…”

“Please Zuna…”

“Agh, well. I was… I… IwastryingtocoocksomethingforyoubecauseI'vebeenashittyboyfriendlately.”

“I can’t understand when you talk so fast…”

“ You’ re mean.”

“But you love me.”

“Yes, I do. I was trying to cook something for you because I’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately.”

“…Uchiha Izuna… you make me the happiest person in the world every day. Just because you have a job that can’t wait doesn’t make you a bad boyfriend. Come here.”

So, the Uchiha turned to face you, and you joined in a kissing session that lasted a few long minutes. Between caresses and affection, you realized that your ideal place was next to the man who accidentally set his house on fire for you, trying to outdo himself to impress you.

“If you were trying to prepare dinner for me, we should eat to honour your great attempt.”

“Sounds awfully good.”

You both got up and headed to the kitchen. You didn’t let Izuna do much, just as you didn’t let him go near the fire or flammable things. Cutting vegetables and controlling the boiling of some ingredients, the Uchiha felt useful next to you. When your dishes were ready, both of you sat down at your table and devoured what you had prepared together.

After a long hour of chatting, while you were serving dessert for the two of you, a knock on the door brought you out of your bubble of happiness. Three frighteningly loud knocks, which caused the walls to rumble, slammed into your home.

“IZUNAAAAAA! GET OUT OF THERE THIS INSTANT AND COME HERE NOW.”

Madara’s voice was full of anger, rage and violence. Even if your boyfriend’s older brother respected and liked you as his sister-in-law, you were aware that if you did not open the door for him immediately, the man would knock it down, without mercy or care. Reluctantly, you got up without looking at Izuna, and went to your main entrance.

The elder Uchiha must have felt your footsteps approaching, for no more banging was heard. Before opening, you could feel your partner hiding in one of the rooms of your house, hoping that any corner would save him from his brother’s fury.

As you opened, Madara looked at you with a bright Sharingan and an intimidating height. His hair was bristly, and his muscles contracted under the tension.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“Good night, Madara. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“This is not against you [Y/N], just tell me where he is and -”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Madara, now if you’ll excuse me, my ice cream is melting.”

You were closing the door in his face when a giant hand came in your way and opened it wide. Gently pushing you aside, the Uchiha entered and went inside your house as if it were his own. It did not take him long to find his younger brother and drag him out of hiding by the neck using his arm, without applying more force than necessary.

“Aghgggg [Y/N]! I-M SS-SORRY-Y”

“Shut up and walk, Cassanova, you’ll have a chance to make up the lost time with your partner. After you repair the fucking kitchen.”

Thus, Izuna and Madara disappeared in the night, one brother dragging the other by the neck to the Uchiha district. With a sigh, you closed the door.

“Well… more ice cream for me.”

[sserpente]

A/N: Finally! It’s been so long since I wrote something for Eric. This is loosely based on a request I got but mainly an idea I have been meaning to write for quite some time now! Enjoy! ♥

Words: 4199 Warnings: very brief mention of a pandemic

Some decisions in life had to be made not out of convenience but because they were the right thing to do. Although you had not gotten Candor for your Aptitude test, the choosing ceremony was the one day in your life you had sworn to be honest to yourself. Despite what everyone would think. Despite what your heart told you. Despite Eric.

You could not have stayed in Dauntless. You were war too peaceful, too much of a pacifist—but against all reason, you had fallen in love with the most dangerous and scariest person of the entire faction. Eric Coulter.

You spent a lot of time together, before he became a leader. Your friendship had involved long nights on the metal bridge right above the chasm when the compound was quiet for once. It had involved training together, fighting together and hoarding cake and muffins in your parents’ apartment. He had loved muffins back in the day. Coming from Erudite, all they had was fizzy drinks. You doubted he still ate muffins or cake these days. Anyway it wasn’t like you’d know. Not after you transferred to the faction Eric positively hated even more than Abnegation.

Amity had been the right choice for you—not only had it been the result of your Aptitude test (which your test administrator had told you with a rather concerned expression)—it was also the faction appealing to you the most. You belonged here; never in Dauntless where the preferred way of solving problems was by throwing fists.

But it had been the moment you had turned away from the bowls filled with whatever represented the respective faction and pressed your thumb to the fresh cut on your palm, when your eyes met his cold and disappointed glare that he was never going to forgive you for leaving him. You almost scoffed at the thought. It sounded like a tragic love story when in fact, you had never actually gone further than sharing passionate kisses. The last few weeks before the choosing ceremony around your sixteenth birthday had been the first time Eric’s subtle touches became more meaningful, more physical—leading to your first kiss in the pit, in the middle of the night, and your first serious relationship. You still remembered this one time he had pulled you on his lap in the middle of the cafeteria, right before the eyes of Four and the other leaders as if to prove a point.

You had been frowned upon, too. It wasn’t just the minor age difference when Eric officially joined the Dauntless leaders. But everyone, including your own friends, had suspected he would favour you, making it harder for other initiates to secure a spot in Dauntless. Well, you were never going to stay anyway. It was just you had never told him that—not until the day you took your Aptitude test.

Several years had passed now. You had not seen Eric once since the day you left Dauntless and since your parents, sharing Eric’s opinion on feeling sick about all the peace and harmony in Amity, never came to visit you for you to ask about him. Without a doubt, he was still a leader. Without a doubt, he was still dangerous and feared. Without a doubt… you still loved him, even after all this time.

You had had one relationship since your transfer, just about long enough to gain some sort of experience, well, non-sexual that was. Up to this day, you wondered would it would be like to have sex with Eric instead. No Amity man had thus far held your interest for longer than a few days when they first began to court and compliment you—and you were fair enough to tell them straight away you did not reciprocate their attraction. None of them was muscly. None of them had intimidating tattoos on their neck and arms and none of them had two piercings above their right eyebrow.

At least you had hopes that at some point, you could forget him, move on and get married to a charming Amity man. That was until Jeanine announced a couple of Divergents and their sympathisers as fugitives—the very same fugitives Johanna was currently hiding in your faction and Dauntless, or whatever was left of it, disrupted the peace.

You jumped from your seat when the trucks arrived, tearing down the wooden fences in the process. It was obvious this was not going to be a courtesy visit. Swallowing thickly, you tried to remember what you had heard on the news. Divergents threatening the faction system, Jeanine trying to stop them from recruiting members of Dauntless to overthrow Abnegation and thus the government…

You did not have to be Candor to know she was lying. You had known a Divergent girl once. She had transferred from Dauntless to Abnegation after her Aptitude test and if anything, she had been terrified she did not seem to fit into only one faction. Four and Tris, they were no threat to the faction system. Their version of the truth was what you believed in. Still, much like Johanna, you did not want any part of this and instead, eat your bread soaked with peace serum.

For a breathless moment that lasted just a second too long, it was awfully quiet. Then, all hell broke loose as aggressive and armed Dauntless soldiers stormed into the open cafeteria and lined everyone up for “testing”.

It was panic you felt creeping up your guts. Fear of what might happen to you or your new found friends in this faction. Breathing heavily, you glanced at the exit nearest to you. You were fast. Your time in Dauntless had made you not only brave and daring but also strong. You had one shot at making a run for it and hide in the hennery or the stables—so you took it and you fled.

Was he here somewhere? You had spotted Max talking to Johanna as you ran but had not dared slow down; not until you had finally reached the stables the farthest away from the cafeteria and Johanna’s office and hid with one of your closest friends—you had named him Starlight and he truly deserved his title being a black and graceful stallion with blue eyes. You sat down next to him, waited and prayed.

-

The shots reached you across the fields seemingly out of nowhere. Flinching, you put your hand on Starlight’s mane to calm him down even though you barely helped with your heart beating faster than a steam hammer.

Not long after, you heard him before you saw him, your blood running cold and a petrifying shiver freezing you in place as you broke out into a sweat.

“We need shelter for the night.” Eric.

Go, leave! Leave before he sees you! But you could not bring yourself to run. If he moved any closer, he would be able to see you. Part of you wanted stay, to cup his face and kiss him, the other… the rational one, wanted to flee.

Now. You jumped, turning around the corner to do just that, in an attempt to leave him and his sinful voice behind you for good. Instead, you bumped straight into him. Positive that your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widened when you caught his attention and he recognised you.

“Eric.” Your voice was no more than a whisper.

Whatever flashed in his blue eyes, it was gone before you could properly grasp it. Was it surprise, anger, regret or longing? Or perhaps a mixture of all? Your lips parted when he took a step towards you, approaching you slowly but determined—like a predator about to attack its intimidated prey.

He looked more mature. Stronger, even. And right now, he was sweating a little, all out of breath and appeared to be downright furious. Tris, Four and their friends must have managed to escape then.

“Look at that,” He finally said. There was a coolness in his voice which had never been there before. With a slight frown, he eyed you up and down. “Black suited you much better than orange.” Another step, invading your personal space. You could smell his aftershave when you inhaled, shakily. He was still using the same.

“Eric, please leave her alone.” Johanna intervened. You had barely noticed her standing there before but were all the more grateful that she was. You were not afraid of him—Eric would never hurt you physically, you were sure of that. Still, her presence relieved you. “I told Max we have additional cots in a hut across the farm for our initiates. You can spend the night there.” She explained peacefully.

Eric’s taunting and challenging gaze never left yours when he replied to her.

“I think I’ll be just fine staying with (Y/N).”

“What?”

“Now what happened to that friendly Amity hospitality?” He mocked, a scornful smirk playing on his lips. Clenching your fists, you gnashed your teeth in an attempt not to lash out at him either verbally or physically. Johanna wouldn’t like that and you certainly wouldn’t either. Eric just brought out the former Dauntless in you.

Johanna opened her mouth to protest. She did not know Eric and you had a history but she was not the sort of person to start an argument. Besides, she could figure you knew each other from the past, given he had said your name and she was aware of where you had transferred from in the first place. How would she protest? If she did, she would hardly be the leader of Amity.

“I’m sure you’ll understand that the leaders of Dauntless won’t settle for sleeping in cots for initiates?” The tone of his voice hid a mocking threat. Johanna lifted her chin. She failed to stand up to him but her expression all but revealed how displeased she was with him.

Still, part of you longed to throw yourself into his arms. The other part… oh, the other part wanted to let out your Dauntless vein and slap him square in the face for his arrogant and superior attitude. Clenching your fists in an attempt to stay calm, you met Johanna’s concerned gaze.

“It’s okay. He can stay with me.”

“How generous…” The Dauntless leader mused.

“Eric! Remember we value peace in this faction.” Johanna called after him, presumably with a reproachful expression on her round face. He only chuckled in response as he followed you around the corner.

-

You did not know what to expect from Eric once you had brought him to your room. Perhaps that he would lash out at you and scream for transferring all those years back without telling him first, or maybe he would simply give you the silent treatment. If anything, Eric had always been really good at hiding his emotions from you. It was why him wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close so you crashed into his steel chest, his lips on your within a matter of seconds caught you completely off guard and was certainly the last thing you would have expected from him.

You had missed those lips… how warm and soft they felt against yours, his tongue demanding entrance to claim you for an even more passionate kiss and his strong arms folding around your body—so tiny compared to his—to keep you safe and warm.

Your eyelids threatened to fall shut, your fingertips itching to put your palms flat against his abdomen, to feel the muscles dancing underneath… you would have if you had eaten your bread today.

Outraged, you pushed him away with all the strength you could muster, glaring at him as if he had grown another head. How dared he? You could have been married by now!

“What… are you doing?”

The Dauntless leader quirked an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed.  His lips were a little swollen from his own vicious attack. “If I recall correctly, kissing is usually what couples do to show their affection for one another.”

“Eric, we broke up.” You stuttered.

“We didn’t break up. You left.”

Your eyes met his. “Because I never belonged in Dauntless, we both know that.”

“Bullshit.” He spat with dismay. “You would have made through initiation easily with my help.”

Sighing mutely, you closed your eyes. That was exactly why you had never told him you wanted to leave your old faction. That… and the fact you hadn’t been brave enough to say goodbye and confront the ache in your heart. There went another reason you could not have stayed in Dauntless.

“Why are you here? This doesn’t seem like a courtesy visit to me. I heard the others talk about some sort of testing. What testing? Is it a disease? A pandemic?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he muttered with his back to you, stepping further into your room and looking around curiously all the while you crossed your arms before your chest. You did not have many belongings. A couple of books, a hay doll which you had crafted yourself and a little table lamp so you could read at night. You had bought it on Trading Day and regularly used it to read at night. It was a luxury not everybody here in Amity had.

With a start, he turned back around. His blue eyes were so cold you shivered. You wondered what had happened to him that had made him so… cruel. Eric did not look like he would hesitate to kill anyone who stood in his way.

“We’re looking for Divergents.” He said.

You frowned. “Why?” Your blood began to boil… they were human too, with hearts that beat all the same. There was no difference, really. Was it not the decision you made on Choosing Day which truly mattered?

“They’re threatening the faction system, attacked Abnegation, compromised Dauntless members…” And that was not the story Tris and Four had told Johanna. He was lying as much as Jeanine was—and he knew very well he was. The tension between you was palpable. If you reached out, you felt like you could actually grasp it, get him to snap. His composure was eerie.

“I think that’s not quite true and you know it.”

“Do I?” Eric raised his eyebrows, his tone almost mocking. You cursed yourself for thinking he was still incredibly sexy—despite his attitude; and your heart was beating so fast you could not help but realise you still loved him. “Don’t you worry. We’ll bring order to this mess they’ve caused.” Only it wasn’t the Divergents who had caused this mess, no?

You gasped when he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, his mouth once again dangerously close to yours—not for the first time were you reminded of that one time he had pulled you on his lap in the cafeteria back in Dauntless. The only way someone like Eric would occasionally show affection for someone.

“You could come home then. Jeanine will sort it all out and everyone who ended up in the wrong faction can transfer.”

“I didn’t end up in the wrong faction!” You exclaimed indignantly, pushing him away with all your might. It didn’t do much. He barely stumbled back.

Eric seemed unconvinced—and almost all but unaffected by your words. “Okay.”

But only almost. It was the way he clenched his fists, the way that vein pulsing on his forehead and the way his left eye twitched barely noticeably. He would never admit it, let alone phrase it like so but you knew you were guilty of having broken his heart. The remorse was eating you up, from the inside out. Being with him now felt both like a relief and pure torture, knowing there was something you could never make up for.

“Don’t you miss the muffins?” He suddenly teased, playing down his emotions—like he always did. Only this time it sounded downright malicious and evil.

You scoffed. “When did you become… like this?” You said instead of responding to him. “So cruel? You wouldn’t have hesitated to kill any of us down there. I saw it in your eyes.”

His nostrils flared. “We’re at war, (Y/N)! I’m a soldier. Of course I wouldn’t hesitate.”

You snorted once more. “Well, that’s one of the reasons I left Dauntless.”

“And there I was hoping you’d regret your decision soon enough.”

For another long, agonising moment, he simply stared at you—then, mutely, he turned away and started taking off his clothing, piece by piece until all there was left were his black underpants. You had never seen him fully naked… well, how? You had never taken this step in your relationship given you had been much too young for it. And right now, there were much more important and pressing matters… like the fact he simply made himself comfortable in your bed as if it was his own.

“I could be married, you know.” You suddenly found yourself saying, only to realise the second the words left your mouth that you were only making this worse. “What if my husband comes home any moment now and finds you in our bed?”

“Then I’d tell him to fuck off.” He mumbled into the pillow before turning back around to face you. “You’re not married.” He added, nodding at your bare hand. “Actually I’m pretty sure you haven’t let a man lay a hand on you for more than an inept kiss.” You swallowed thickly. He was right.

“You’re wrong.”

“You know I’m not. Now go to bed, the trip back to Dauntless will take us longer now that so many Divergents are on the loose.”

“I am not coming back to Dauntless with you!”

He scoffed in response—and you were far too troubled to sleep. Let alone in the same bed with him. You considered your options for a moment. The hard wooden floor, the ice cold stables in midst of hay… or your soft bed in a warm room.

The decision was easier than it should have been. Still protesting mutely, you did as you were told, albeit reluctantly, but opted to keep on your dress.

-

You weren’t just cold. You were crying too. You realised the moment your cheek was growing wet from the sad spot of tears that had already formed on your pillow. Shaking silently, you hoped your mute suffering—more mental than physical—would go unnoticed and he wouldn’t wake up. That wish was ridiculous, come to think of it. Eric had learned during initiation that a light sleep could potentially save your life.

“Stop crying…” You heard him grumble, his voice drowsy. He sat up when you didn’t react, a loud sigh tearing through your dark room. “Stop crying.” He said again, softer this time, almost… soothingly. Comfortingly.

His skin felt like hot flames on yours when he leaned over to envelop your upper body in his embrace. You knew he wouldn’t say anything more. Eric was a man who let actions speak louder than words. Soon, you stopped trembling. Soon, you stopped weeping too.

It wasn’t just for his arms around you. It was the fact that you had hurt and disappointed him and he could have sent you straight into your death the moment he saw you again. He had not. He had acted cold and cruel and practically ordered you to return to Dauntless with him but he still loved you—as much as you still loved him. How much of this was healthy, you did not know. It was simply Eric’s way of showing feelings.

-

The next morning felt surreal, yet before you got to ask yourself if Eric was really here with you—here in Amity, in your bed—you felt the weight of his arm around your hips. You could tell by the way he tensed when you shifted slightly that he was already awake.

“Are you hungry?” He muttered. Frowning, you gazed at your wooden floor. You usually had breakfast before heading out to the farms. This morning, however, the thought of food alone was enough to make your head spin and feel nauseous.

“No… are you?”

“No. Pack your things then. We’re leaving.”

Eric stood. Half naked, he treaded across the room to put his clothes back on.

“I’m not packing anything. I can’t come with you, Eric, you know that.”

“Of course you can,” he spat. “Didn’t you listen to me last night? Jeanine will allow transfers. Make sure everybody’s loyalty is with the right faction.”

“My loyalty is with Amity.” And with you, you added silently. But you couldn’t have both. Faction before blood. The ideal praised be the entire city of Chicago had never felt more painful. “Why won’t you accept it?”

“Because you’re lying to yourself, (Y/N)! You think I didn’t try to move on? Fuck other women?” You flinched. “I could never wrap my head around you wanting to spend your life harvesting fruit and grain.” Dauntless never give up. Eric had never given up on you. Tearing up, you flinched once more when he opened your wardrobe and pulled out the small travel bag every Amity member was equipped with and started packing your few belongings himself when you did not make a move to listen to him.

“Eric, stop it!” The Dauntless leader didn’t even react. Instead, lastly, he reached for the testing device. You had barely registered him bringing the strange piece of Erudite technology to your room and setting it aside the moment the door fell shut so he could attack you with a kiss. Unceremoniously, he threw it on top of the few contents of the bag.

“We’re leaving. I’m not letting you go again.” He knew he wasn’t asking you to stay with him against your will. No, Eric was intelligent. He knew you still loved him and that being with him again would hardly entail him keeping you captive.

“Eric, I said stop!” Fuck Amity protocol. Snapping, you grabbed a hold of your bag and attempted to rip it from his grasp. He did not let go, resulting in an almost ridiculous tug war until the thin fabric of the handle broke apart and Eric’s device dropped out.

As it clattered to the ground, the built-in sensor activated, pointing straight at you. “Divergent.” A computer-simulated voice spoke from the tiny speakers.

You froze. Eric froze. Time froze.

Eric stared at the device as if it had just grown three heads. Then, slowly, his gaze wandered up to your face, discovering the utter horror in it.

He was unpredictable, he always had been. You could still feel his arms around you from last night, after all. And once more, you reminded yourself that you had never had a doubt that Eric would harm you in any way. Now, for the first time, you were worried he would kill you when he darted forward, his expression all but brutal and ruthless.

You tried to remember what your Dauntless friends had taught you long before your transfer. How to block a blow, how to duck and how to throw a punch so your opponent would be knocked out soon enough. Right now, not a single combat move wanted to come to your mind. All your body could master was flinch back—terrified.

It came different. Instead of lunging at you and arresting you for alleged attempt to overthrow the faction system, Eric stomped his foot and crushed the device under the sole of his boot. It broke apart like a dry twig, throwing sparks for a moment.

“Did you know?”

Slowly, you shook your head, still utterly horrified. “No…”

“Did you know?!” He repeated, yelling at you this time loudly enough for you to flinch.

“No! I did not! How would I? For Heaven’s sake, I got Amity for my Aptitude test, Eric!”

“Is that what your test administrator told you?”

“I am not Divergent, Eric!” You yelled. “Don’t you… don’t you think I would know if I felt like I belonged to more than one faction? I don’t!”

“Erudite technology doesn’t lie.” He said, pausing dramatically. “And you know what? I think the part of you who is Divergent is the part that should have stayed in Dauntless with me.”

“You’re hurt. I know you are. Eric, I am sorry. I really am. But I was too much of a coward to tell you I planned to leave. I loved…” No. That was wrong. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for just the fraction of a second. “I love you.”

Eric approached you and this time, you didn’t move away. You stood your ground—for whatever was to come. Your reward was the relief washing over your entire body when he took a hold of your waist and pulled you against him.

“Come back to Dauntless with me.”

“Eric…”

“Come back to Dauntless with me. It’s the only place where I can protect you.”

Your lower lip was shivering when you looked up to lock your eyes with his. You still trusted him, even after last night. And you believed him, too.

-

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my  first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would  appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[moved-to-void-kissed]

Too Late to be Saved

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1GF_jZevunsCA5QKPWXfaVO_OO61ZaAtxkzPdoJNJHUM/edit?usp=sharing

When Aqua and Aria reach the Dark Margin at the edge of the realm of darkness, they meet Ansem the Wise, who is quickly sought by Ansem, Seeker of Darkness. Aria angrily confronts the fellow Heartless, but finds herself unable to get back to the End of Sea before Riku and King Mickey arrive. (2351 words) Replaces the KH3 cutscene “An Unexpected Encounter” and changes some story events so that “Too Late” and “Braving the Darkness” no longer occur.

My first new piece of selfship writing on this blog, and oh boy is it a big one! I had a lot of fun writing this, so hopefully it makes for a good read, haha ^-^

Tag list: @softskiesahead | @dragonsmooch | @thatslikesometaldude | @lilacslovers | @insomniaships | @candyforthebrain | @goldenworldsabound | @setzale

A transcript of the document is under the readmore! Reblogs of this post would be greatly appreciated, since I was really happy with how this turned out, but they’re not required by any means~

“What is this place..?”

The blue-haired woman slowly walked forwards, marvelling at the sight before her. The endless dark caverns that she had wandered for so long had opened out to a clouded grey beach, lit by what appeared to be a glowing white moon above the horizon. The hard stone underfoot was giving way to soft sand of the same ash-like colour, as waves of murky water gently grazed the shore. It was an eerily tranquil place by the standards of all she had witnessed before, something her companion was quick to notice.

“There are no Heartless here.” she said. “I almost feel as though I shouldn’t be here, either. Aqua.. I think this might be the edge of the realm.”

“So, we’ve made it to the end?” replied Aqua, now making her way towards the shoreline.

“Yes, it would appear so. Whatever lies beyond this shore.. It seems less like part of the darkness, and more like something between dark and light. Something that doesn’t belong to either force..”

As her partner spoke, Aqua became aware that her voice was growing fainter. When she turned around, she saw that she had made far less progress towards the water, standing awkwardly some distance away with her wings curled around her body. She looked nervous, and unsure what to expect, yet the catlike ears poking straight up through her messy blonde hair showed that she was still as alert as ever, constantly listening for danger even in the silence of the new place they had stumbled across.

“Aria, it’s okay! We can keep going, if you’d prefer that. You look tense, and I don’t want you to be unsettled.”  A worried expression flitted across Aqua’s face as she reached out to hold Aria’s hand - the sudden movement made her flinch in surprise, but she quickly and visibly relaxed as Aqua drew closer. When the two were standing together again, Aqua gently closed both of her hands over Aria’s, unfazed by the patches of open darkness that ran along them, and smiled as she looked down at her partner.

“Thank you..” she mumbled quietly. “I’m alright, I just- don’t know what to expect here.”

It was then that, behind the Keyblade Master, Aria spotted a hooded figure sitting some distance away, hidden by a black coat but appearing to gaze out over the barely-moving water. Though she still let Aqua hold her right hand, she slowly shifted to free her left and moved to stand at Aqua’s side in one fluid movement. Then she extended her left arm and a mass of dark energy enveloped the space beside her, dissipating quickly to reveal a jagged dark red Keyblade.

“Identify yourself!”

Her shout echoed across the shore, leading the figure to turn its head and slowly stand up. As it started to walk across the sand, it removed its hood to reveal an older-looking man with piercing orange eyes and wispy light blond hair. He looked tired, and his face bore the wrinkled lines of worry as he observed the two Keyblade wielders.

“Please, stay your weapon. I mean you no harm.”

Aria wasn’t overly convinced, but she could see that the man did not have the strength to be a threat, so she lowered her Keyblade. Aqua was curious to find out more, taking a step forward.

“Who are you? How did you end up in this place?”

The man sighed wistfully, folding his hands behind his back. “My name was.. stolen by another, and I can feel this place taking its toll on my memory. I’m sorry. I know that I have only been here for a fairly short time, and that I was sent here by the destruction of the machine I created to encode Kingdom Hearts in data.”

“Before that..” He turned to look out over the water again, unwilling to meet Aqua’s gaze. “I caused a great deal of misery to many individuals, through both my recent actions and my previous research. It is clear to me now that I was deeply in the wrong about some of my original beliefs.. Now, I can only hope for a chance to atone for my deeds.”

“It’s alright.” Aria’s Keyblade had disappeared from her hand. “I can see now that your heart holds a true desire for.. repentance, or something of that nature. I’m not sure what the right word is, but.. The point is that you won’t be harmed, by either of us.”

“Yes, of course!” Aqua added. “I think you’ll be safe here, at least, since the Heartless don’t seem to come here. And, I can’t claim to know what you’ve done, but.. What’s important is that you recognise your mistakes, and that you want to make up for them.”

The man seemed relieved, and turned back to face the pair with a shadow of a smile on his face. “Thank you, both of you. I admit that I was not expecting to meet anyone else in this infernal prison. If I may ask, what are your names?”

“Oh, there’s no time for that now.”

A dark portal had opened up, and from it stepped an imposing and well-built man in a similar black coat. He had slicked-back long silver hair and similarly piercing eyes to the old man, though his were a cold golden colour. Aria’s eyes narrowed at his approach, as it was clear that he was a powerful user of darkness, though the true nuance was only visible to her.

“What- What’s going on?” Aqua asked, turning to face the man with suspicion. He ignored her for the moment, focusing only on the older man, who in turn was glaring fiercely at the intruder as he approached.

“You..”

“Master.. I must have a word with you.”

“Master?” he echoed. “So now you mock me..” The disapproval dripped from his voice like bitter venom. The interloper opened his mouth to respond, but-

“Leave.”

Aria had broken away from Aqua’s grasp and now stood defiantly before the intruder, Keyblade still in hand.

“Excuse me?” The man raised an eyebrow and sneered down at her, surprised by her actions.

“I know what you are, Ansem.” she snarled back. “I have known your power since before you even existed. A villainous Heartless with a natural human form - the one that took the title of “seeker of darkness” and is shadowed by a twisted dark figure. You think you’re so strong, but you are not the one who holds power here.”

This last statement had clearly struck a nerve, and Ansem’s expression of contempt soured into anger. “You’re certainly an astute one.. But what makes you think you could possibly face me?”

“Have your eyes gone blind as well as gold? If I can tell what you are, you can tell what I am. I have seen more than you will ever achieve, especially now that you’re afflicted with some other presence. That-” - she pointed up at his eyes - “-is Xehanort’s power, isn’t it? If you’re with him, that makes you our enemy.”

At this point, Aqua’s worried expression had returned. “Aria, be careful..”

“Aqua, get that man somewhere out of the way. I’m going to stop this before it becomes a problem.”

“You are a fool to challenge me, girl!” 

An eruption of darkness burst forth from the Heartless, and the powerful frame of the Dark Figure rose up from his shadow. Aria quickly leapt up into the air, spreading her wings to soar over Ansem’s head as he lashed out. To deflect the residual impact of his outburst, Aqua summoned a Barrier spell, then started to help the old man escape once he had turned around.

The force of that initial burst - not even a targeted attack, merely an effect driven by the might of his anger - instantly made Aria aware of the strength Ansem possessed, and she knew she would have to be careful. Her advantage was agility, as the darkness she could draw from her surroundings to aid her flight was limitless. She darted out of his reach and flew up and away from the Dark Figure’s grasp, firing shockwaves of unearthly blue energy at both it and Ansem. The monster seemed unfazed, but Ansem himself was slowed down in his pursuit of her, only to then retaliate with a barrage of violet orbs, which Aria was able to flit between. At every twist and turn, she flew further away from him, enraging him even more as he was forced to give chase.

“What is this insolence?!” Ansem yelled. “You should be obeying me!”

“Does it look like that matters?” she replied, deftly evading another blast of dark energy. “I already told you - you’re not the one who holds power here. Even if you did, Ves’ presence is enough to protect me. I don’t care what you think you deserve!”

Another flash of darkness, this time from Aria herself - she had switched her Keyblade from its dark mode to its diamond mode, now shimmering with cold blue light, and enveloped herself in a shadowy aura to strengthen herself. Still soaring on her wings, their black feathers gleaming with energy drawn from the realm, she sent a rain of insightful flames down from above, then her Keyblade became electrified and she hurled it spinning towards him.

“Maybe you meant something, once. But now you’ve let yourself be taken over by someone who’s not even strong enough to control you completely. Take it from someone who knows - all that does is weaken you!”

“Enough of this!”

Suddenly, the Dark Figure wrested itself from Ansem’s shadow and lunged forwards into the air, followed swiftly by Ansem himself, roaring and surrounding himself with a wall of intense darkness. As Aria dropped through the air to avoid his charge, a blast of ice struck him from behind. It was Aqua, channeling magic even without her Keyblade to act as a conduit. The impact threw Ansem off-course, but the Dark Figure swept around and managed to grab hold of Aria.

“Agh!”

“Let go of her!” Aqua cried, trying to fire more magic without hitting Aria. Ansem’s attention remained focused on the Keyblade Master, while the Dark Figure tightened its powerful grip as if to crush Aria entirely. She desperately writhed and struggled, holding onto the figure with her right hand and trying to slash at it with the Keyblade in her left. After a few moments, it became shrouded in a dark mist, as if dissipating, and she was able to slip from its hold when another direct hit from Aqua made Ansem stumble.

Anger still pulsed through him like a poison as he shouted at the both of them. “I will not lose to an obstinate recusant and a lost guardian with no Keyblade to protect herself!”

Clearing the space around him by emitting a shockwave of energy, Ansem started to summon a massive crest of darkness above him, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. The Dark Figure was still clawing at Aria, as if enraged at how she had stolen some of its power to escape it, but she felt confident she would be able to evade the incoming blow. She could tell that he was not at his full strength anymore, and the intricate crest was already starting to lose its shape, contorting into a misshapen orb of raw darkness.

Then she saw where Ansem was aiming.

“Don’t you dare!-”

In the instant before the orb struck her, all Aqua saw was a flurry of feathers, and then came the dark impetus. Something fell from her sash as she was knocked to the ground, and she was only aware of something- someone- Aria being launched through the air above her, sent flying further back into the dark. 

Just then, a shower of stars came soaring in from the direction of the otherworldly beach. Their light seemed to pierce through the darkness like a blade through fog, and Aqua couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope as she saw them strike the Heartless.

“Oh no you don’t!”

A familiar and determined cry from none other than King Mickey himself - the little mouse had leapt to the fray and brandished his Star Cluster Keyblade to help Aqua out. From behind him, another Keyblade wielder in plaid clothing was running towards them, carrying a sword of grey metal with ease.

Aqua recognised him immediately, even though he had grown considerably. “Riku! Mickey! Is it really you?”

“Gah..” Ansem staggered back to his feet, clearly injured from Mickey’s attack, and glared at them all in turn. “You have not won this.. You will not prevail!”

Another dark corridor opened up, then it was gone, and he was gone.

“I don’t feel good about letting him get away like that..” said Mickey. “Should we try and go after him?”

“There’s no time!” Riku exclaimed, his green eyes clouded with concern. “We need to get you out of here, Aqua, and bring Ansem the Wise with us, too. I don’t know how long the corridor I made will stay open for.”

“Wait, but-”

Mickey nodded at Riku’s words with a determined expression. “You’re right. I’m not leaving without you again, Aqua!”

All the while, Aria was desperately flying.

The light of all their hearts, and of the corridor, was blinding, especially for one so accustomed to the dark - but she kept racing forwards, using them as a guiding beacon. Sharp spikes of rock loomed down from the ceiling, as if the jaws of a monster were trying to consume her, to keep her trapped in the realm that had already held her for so long. No. She wouldn’t lose her. This would be her only chance to escape.

The lights flickered, once, twice, three times - and then it was all extinguished. Fatigue from her injuries mixed with overwhelming emotions brought Aria to the ground with a sob. She crashed to the floor just metres away from where her love had been so cruelly rescued, clinging onto what Aqua had so sadly left behind.

All she had left was a blue glass Wayfinder.

[the-pen-and-the-stethoscope]

So while Six of Crows has been on my to read list for a while now when I saw that Shadow and Bone was coming to Netflix and realized they were all part of the same little universe I was like *rolls up sleeves* K guess it’s time to read five books in one month to prepare for this new series drop. (special shout out to @darklesmylove​ because it’s mostly your blog posts that convinced me I had to read this series...I give you this as a gift...) 

And now I present to you (in the order which I read them) the events in the Shadow and Bone/Six of Crows books that made me go ABSOLUTELY FERAL (wow there’s a lot more of these than I thought there were). 

- “The problem with wanting,” he whispered, his mouth trailing along my jaw until it hovered over my lips, “is that it makes us weak.” (unfortunately the last time I was seduced by the Darkling - NEVER AGAIN BAD SIR! But this was fucking hot) 

- THE. FIGHT. OVER. THE. STAG. (Just...Alina not killing it, the Darkling is here, now he’s going to kill it. NOW ALINA IS IN FRONT OF THE STAG SAVING IT. NOW SHE WANTS MAL TO SACRIFICE HER. NOW THE COLLAR IS AROUND HER NECK AND NOW SHE’S UNDER HIS POWER AHHHHH) Bonus: “Shhhh. Quiet now, or I will let Ivan kill him. Slowly.” 

- When Alina figures out the dream and TAKES THE POWER BACK!!! (yaaaaasss queen!)

- When the Darkling finds Alina and Mal in Cofton and that whole fight scene and her getting bit and then I had to WAIT UNTIL THE REST OF THE BOOKS CAME IN THE MAIL

- “From what I know of the Ice Court, whoever stole my DeKappel is exactly who I need for this job.” “Then you’d be better off hiring him. Or her.” “Indeed. But I’ll have to settle for you.” (I’m 50 pages in and in love with Kaz Bekker, someone help me) 

- “Not just yet, Inej.” The rasp of stone on stone. Her eyes flew open. Kaz. (ugh my cold cold heart is awake and beats only for them!) 

- Because I’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you for two days. (literally like......)

- When Jordie and Kaz get tricked. (I mean all of Kaz’s back story but that was...ugh..........)

- It was because she was listening so closely that she knew the exact moment when Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the bastard of the Barrel and the deadliest boy in Ketterdam, fainted. 

- When Nina runs into the guards and the alarm goes off and I realize that I’m an idiot and OBVIOUSLY THINGS WERE GOING TO GO WRONG. 

- WHEN INEJ TOUCHES KAZ’S FACE. His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated. She could see it took every last bit of his terrible will for him to remain still beneath her touch. And yet, he did not pull away. She knew it was the best he could offer. It was not enough. 

- He slammed his fist against the window. “Do not speak my name.” Then he smiled, a smile as cold and unforgiving as the northern sea. “Welcome to the Ice Court, Nina Zenik. Now our debt is paid.” (like FUCK MATTHIAS GOT ME TOO. WHAT A GOOD ACT!)

- I have been made to protect you. Only in death will I be kept from this oath. It was the vow of the druskelle to Fjerda. And now it was Matthias’ promise to her. (OMGGGGGG) 

- “This is going to sting a bit,” said the druskelle holding the whip. His voice was rasping, familiar. His hands were gloved. “But if we live, you’ll thank me later.” His hood slid off, and Kaz Brekker looked back at them. 

- The sun was out for once, and Inej had turned her face to it. Her eyes were shut, her oil-black lashes fanned over her cheeks. The harbor wind had lifted her dark hair, and for a moment Kaz was a boy again, sure that there was magic in this world. (YEAH OKAY. AND THIS IS HIS LAST THOUGHT BEFORE DROWNING.) 

- WHEN THEY STEAL THE TANK. THE TANK. AND THEN DRIVE IT THROUGH THE FUCKING TOWN. 

- Nina on parem. 

- “I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.” (SCREEAAAAMS. BANGS HAND AGAINST BOOK. DIES.) 

- “Kaz knew the instant he made his mistake...in that moment of threat, when he should have thought only of the fight, he looked at Inej.” (asdlfkasgkjasglk;sdfjl) 

- I’m going to get my money, Kaz vowed. And I’m going to get my girl. (YEAH BITCH!) 

- When Alina first sees the Darkling while they are traveling the fold (I froze, I read it like four times, I couldn’t believe what was happening)

- When Mal suggests they go to that stupid party and then Alina actually agrees (I literally was like...well something bad is going to happen and I hate it here) 

- When the Darkling shows up after Alina and Mal kiss. “Another otkazat’sya, Alina?” the Darkling mocked. (sdflkajd) 

- “I can’t decide if you’re an idiot, or an idiot.” (ugh Nikolai, marry me) 

- two pages later: “You’re a spectacular actor,” I said drily. “Do you think so?” he asked. Then he leaned in and whispered, “I’m doing ‘humble’ right now.” (FUCK ME)

- “I want to kiss you,” Nikolai said. “But I won’t. Not until you’re thinking of me instead of trying to forget him.” (Am I the only one who found this cute??? Why did Alina get upset??? Do I have Nikolai-colored goggles on??? Maybe...) 

- When the Darkling came to Alina in her sleep and then PRETENDED TO BE MAL SO HE COULD HAVE HIS WAY WITH HER?!?!?!?!?! (ahhhhhhhhhh) “I missed you too, Alina.” That voice. Cool and smooth as glass. (AHHHHH)

- Nikolai stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the parquet floor. “When did you lift the blockades? How long have the roads been open?” (LSDAKLFSDLFDKASLDKLSKLKLL) 

- “Not bad looking?” said another voice. “He’s damnably handsome.” Luchenko scowled. “Since when - “ “Brave in battle, smart as a whip.” Now the voice seemed to be coming from above us. Luchenko craned his neck, peering into the trees. “An excellent dancer,” said the voice. “Oh, and an even better shot.” (And then I damn near died.) 

- There’s a whole three pages (that I will not re-type here) after they arrive at the Spinning Wheel of Nikolai just being *chef’s kiss* flawless. Some great lines include: “Everyone needs a hobby.” “I thought yours was preening.” “Two hobbies.” “Should I be offended that he doesn’t want to dine with us? I set an excellent table, and I rarely drool.” “What a filthy mind you have. I was referring to puzzles and the perusal of edifying texts.” “Last chance to run.” 

- “Alina, I’ll be back to fetch you for dinner, but should you grow restless, do feel free to run screaming from the room or take a dagger to her. Whatever seems most fitting at the time.” (asldjkasl;dkfs;lkd NIKOLAI) 

- Okay gunna skip ahead - you can assume any time Nikolai said anything I screamed. 

- Nikolia’s second proposal (THE EMERALD!!! JUST HOW HE PUTS IT ON TOP OF THE WALL) 

- Nikolai’s third proposal. Nikolai’s skin was warm, his grip gentle. I’d wondered if I would ever feel something so simple again or if the power in me would just keep jumping and crackling. (THIS is why he is perfect for her - no jolt of electricity, just warmth and comfort!!!) 

- SERGEI!!!!

- When Nikolai gets fucking taken over by a nichevo’ya (I HATE EVERYONE)

- When Baghra sacrifices herself 

- When we finally FINALLY find out what makes Mal so special (I mean....his tracking was OTHERWORLDLY I can’t believe people weren’t more fucking freaked out by him) 

- “The Darkling marched on Keramzin.” (Literally screamed: “MY HEART HURTS.” I was crying. I nearly threw the book down. “BUT THE CHILDREN!” I say with my fists in the air. I am become a blade.) 

- Nikolai visiting Alina while he is the monster and trying to make himself better (ahhhhh tears!!! THE EMERALD!!!) The words died on my lips. Nikolai turned my palm over and slid the ring onto my finger. (FUUUUCK. PAAAAIN.) 

- When Nikolai comes back and FIGHTS FOR THEM IN THE FOLD!!!! HE MAY BE A MONSTER BUT HE IS NOT THE DARKLING’S MONSTER, BITCH!! 

- “Please,” I sobbed. “Bring him back to me.” (lkadsflkj this was actually devastating even though I’m not a huge Mal fan)

- “We need more light,” he said. A choked laugh escaped me. I held up my hands, pleading with the light and with any Saint who had ever lived. it was no good. (UGHHHH. MORE PAIN.) 

- Tamar sobbed. Toyla swore. And there it was again: the thready, miraculous sound of Mal drawing breath. (and also the first time I breathed for an entire chapter!) 

- “Alina,” he said and kissed the scar on my palm, “I remember everything.” (Literally the last like twenty pages of this book I just gave up and was like actually Mal is adorable and I need to protect him at all costs.) 

- “Really I just wanted to look at the words.” (ughhhhh) 

- Once a man arrived with a fleet of toy boats that the children launched on the creek in a miniature regatta. The teachers noted that the stranger was young and handsome, with golden hair and hazel eyes, but most definitely off. He stayed late to dinner and never once removed his gloves. (NIKOLAI SIGHTING IN THE EPILOGUE MY HEART GOES ON)

- When Van Eck thinks Kaz is coming to get Inej and then he tells Inej and then she is WILLING HIM to not show up and then it is revealed he wasn’t there all along (BOOM BITCH THAT’S HOW KAZ BREKKER FUCKING WORKS.)

- “Those were my mother’s favorite flower.” 

- “Why the net, Kaz?” I couldn’t bear to watch you fall. (POETRY OKAY?)

- Jesper and Wylan going to see Wylan’s mother and just fucking everything about that chapter. 

- When Inej almost FALLS INTO THE FUCKING SILO AND IT’S THE END OF THE GD CHAPTER 

- “Pick up the pace,” Kaz said, eyeing his watch. “If I spill a single drop of this, it will burn straight through the floor onto my father’s dinner guests.” “Take your time.” 

- “We’ll fight our way out together,” Inej whispered. Nina glanced from Inej to Kaz and saw they both wore the same expression. Nina new that look. It came after the shipwreck, when the tide moved against you and the sky had gone dar. It was the first sight of land, the hope of shelter and even salvation that might await you on a distant shore. (AHHHHHH) 

- Wylan’s first thought was that this boy had the most perfectly shaped lips he’d ever seen. His second was that his father had sent someone new to kill him. (Wylan you are so adorable it’s adorable) 

- Inej was moving before she thought of it. She couldn’t just watch him die, she wouldn’t. They had him down now, heavy boots kicking and stomping at his body. her knives were in her hands. She’d kill them all. She’d pile the bodies to the rafters for the stadwatch to find. But in that moment, through the wide slats in the banister landing, she saw his eyes were open. His gaze found hers. He’d known she was there all along. Of course he had. He always kew how to find her. He age the barest shake of his bloodied head. (THESE TWO!!)

- “My leg! My leg!” “I recommend a cane,” Kaz said. (cackling) 

- When Sturmhond (aka Nikolai ***swoons***) showed up in Crooked Kingdom. (What actually happened: me reading a description of a “fox-like” man with Genya and Zoya and screaming and saying to myself “OMG WHEN I TURN THE PAGE IT WILL CONFIRM THAT NIKOLAI IS IN THE BUILDING I CAN’T” (did I mention I’m in love with him??? already??? k))

- When Jesper and Wylan FINALLY kiss FOR REAL (this was a big chapter for me) This was the kiss he’d been waiting for. It was a gunshot. It was prairie fire. it was the spin of Makker’s Wheel. Jesper felt the pounding of his heart - or was it Wylan’s? - like a stampede in his chest, and the only thought in his head was a happy, startled, Oh. 

- CHAPTER 33 - just everything, everything about the reveals in this chapter. The money being funneled to the Shu, not being able to trace even the RANSOM NOTE back to Kaz. WYLAN SHOWING UP!!!! “ARE YOU SURE THEY WERE PEKKA’S MEN?” !!!!!!!!

- “Do something,” Matthias growled at Kaz. “This is about to turn ugly.” Kaz’s face was as impassive as always. “Do you think so?” (bahahahahaha) 

- Nina’s just complete glee over the chaos she creates!!! “She was the Queen of Mourning, and in its depths, she would never drown.” 

- Jesper using his fucking power!!!!!! 

- She stared up at him. He was going to miss that look of surprise. (HE’S GOING TO LET HER GO. HE KNOWS HE IS GOING TO LET HER GO.)

- KAZ’S PLAN BECOMING CLEAR IN IT’S BRILLIANCE AS EACH CHAPTER GOES BY. 

- Inej frowned. “I thought you and Nina chose four outbreak sites on the Staves.” Kaz straightened his cuffs. “I also had her stop at the Menagerie.” She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again. (AHHHHHHHHHHHHH) 

- “A sedative,” said the medik. “Is that safe for a pregnant woman?” “For me.” (This is just FLAWLESS in its depiction of people who don’t do OB care regularly.)

- Matthias saw the anger there, the rage. He knew it well. But he was still surprised when he heard the shot. (NOOOOOOOO!!!) 

- “Has she at least done it before?” said Kaz. “For this purpose?” asked Sturmhond. “I’ve seen her do it twice. It worked splendidly. Once.” (NIKOLAI I BEG YOU!) 

- When Matthias DIES?!??! (I’M SORRY WHO LET THIS HAPPEN??)

- “You will meet him again in the next life,” said Inej. “But only if you suffer this now.” 

- Wylan getting all of his father’s money because KAZ HAS BEEN PLANNING THIS ALL ALONG??!

- Jesper leaned in and said, quietly enough that no one else could hear, “I can read to him.” (alksdflk;jasfl;jkd that was hot) 

- “Well hopefully the medik will be here to fix my ribs soon,” he said as he headed back into the parlor. “Yeah?” “Yes,” said Wylan, glancing briefly over his shoulder, his cheeks now red as cherries. “I’d like to make a down payment.” (OMG WYLAN?!?!?! IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!?! IS THIS ALLOWED?!?!)

- At some point, Jesper realized Kaz was gone. “Not one for goodbyes, is he?” he muttered. “He doesn’t say goodbye,” Inej said. She kept her eyes on the lights of the canal. Somewhere in the garden, a night bird began to sing. “He just lets go.” (TEARS.)

- She felt his knuckles slide against hers. Then his hand was in her hand, his palm was pressed against her own. A tremor moved through him. Slowly, he let their fingers entwine. (I gasped so loud i literally woke my cat up from a deep sleep.)

- “Wait,” he said. The burn of his voice was rougher than usual. “Is my tie straight?” Inej laughed, her hood falling back from her hair. “That’s the laugh,” he murmured. (THAT’S THE LAUGH. THAT’S THE LAUGH. AHHHHH) 

Okay done. Gunna go stare at the ceiling until tomorrow night/whenever I finally get King of Scars and Rule of Wolves in the mail (BECAUSE YOU KNOW MY SORRY ASS IS DYING AT THE THOUGHT OF TWO BOOKS ALL ABOUT NIKOLAI) 

[conaionaru]

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Anyone can betray anyone

Synopsis: While Ivar is away, Vanya does everything to keep her mind off his possible death, meanwhile Aslaug faces an enemy from the past.

Warnings: fluff? (Aslaug + Vanya), betrayal, character death, angst, slight anti-Lagertha (she deserved it), talk or revenge

Tags: @shannygoatgruff @queenbeeta @lol-haha-joke​ @xbellaxcarolinax @youbloodymadgenius @chynagirl13 @didiintheblog @astridbaby @heavenly1927 @thereareendlessopportunities

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3 

It was the middle of the night as they sat in a circle; some of the women were familiar, others weren't, but they all shared the same goal. They all prayed for their families to return from raiding alive and well. No matter if they went to the Mediterranean with Bjorn and Hvitserk or to England with Ragnar and Ivar, the women of the family prayed to the gods.

Hoenir sacrificed a goat and smeared the blood over their faces as they prayed to Thor for strength. Ever since the Ragnarssons left, Aslaug has been distant, and Vanya feared the Queen felt Ivar die.

And so distracted herself from these thoughts by spending time with the common folk. Prayer circles, visits to the orphanage, or just strolls through the marker, Vanya was always surrounded by people. But inside, she felt hollow just like the rest of them, Aros being her only source of joy.  

Ubbe joked that the babe would be able to walk by the time Ivar came back, as he's very eager to stand. Of course, he can't do it independently, but he has no problem holding himself up if you hold him. And Vanya was very proud of that.

Right now, the Ivarsson is with his grandmother, who asked to look after him for a little bit. The request was sudden, but Vanya was very happy that the Queen was feeling a bit better.

"Are you alright, Princess Vanya?" questioned an old woman, she had gray hair and looked worn down, but she came to every prayer circle. Her two grandsons left with Bjorn, and her son joined Ragnar.

"Of course, a little bit dizzy from the sigh of blood. But I am alright." The woman didn't believe her at all and put her withered hand on top of Vanya's.

"The gods aren't always just, but they listen to the prayers and act on them if they are pleased. You have pleased the gods since the ships left; you should rest a little bit too. Or you will wear yourself thin."

Vanya chuckled and shook her head at the answer. "I will be fine. The gods will hear our prayer and help us. Everything will be alright."

Not so far away from Vanya's place of blissful denial, Lagertha was hatching plans. "I am taking Kattegat back. Aslaug isn't fit to be Queen."

"What about Ragnar's sons?" Astrid asked her lover, curious about what will become of the boys.

"Born of a witch." The shieldmaiden replied simply, stroking her own like a conversation about the weather and not about usurping a Queen.

"They are still his sons."

Lagertha looked at Astrid with solemn eyes and stood up from her seat. "Bjorn, Hvitserk, and Ivar are all gone."

"But Ubbe and Sigurd remain. Are you going to kill them too?"

Luckily for them, Torvi had the perfect solution in the form of Margrethe. But one thing remained unclear to Astrid. "What of Vanya? What will happen to her?"

"We can't hurt her. She is the sole heir to a kingdom in England. If she dies as well, they will sail to our shores and demand vengeance." Lagertha's words held a tone of anger in them. They tried to pull the Princess to their side on the feast, but her mind was too warped by Aslaug's witchy ways. Just like Ragnar's had been.

"She will remain where she is, we just have to make sure she won't interfere, and no harm comes to her or Aros," Torvi suggested looking at her mother in law for approval. When Lagertha asked for an explanation, the younger blonde was happy to provide. "For leverage against Ivar."

Margrethe nodded at this and looked at Lagertha unsurely. "When Vanya went missing, he lost his mind. If she and the babe are safe, he won't be so angry. She calms him sometimes."

"Then it's decided. Now, enough questions. I have to talk to Torvi."

Vanya entered the Queen's chambers to retrieve Aros right after the prayer circle. When she saw Aslaug sitting on her bed, holding her grandson close with sad eyes, she didn't know what to say. "I always wanted a daughter. I am thankful for all of my sons, and love them very much. But sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have a daughter."

Vanya walked closer to the bed, sitting down next to Aslaug to watch Aros sleep. He looked just like Ivar when he slept, serene and innocent with a little frown and scrunched up nose. At least he slept easier than before.

"When the marriage offer came in, and it said they choose Ivar, I was worried. I wanted him to find somebody worthy of him, who would love him just as much as I do. And then this little scared Christian came in, and I was so angry that he would have to marry her. But she showed her true colors little by little. Suddenly there wasn't a scared girl who would bring his boredom and misery. The Princess didn't judge him and even grew to love him over time."

Vanya smiled at the Queen's kind words; no matter how much it hurt to remember Ivar and his possible fate, it warmed her heart to hear about him nonetheless. "I gained a daughter thanks to a monster from another place far from here. A daughter I grew to love even more when she gave me a grandson. Even if I lost a son, I gained two more people to care for. And I am very thankful for that."

She looked up to show her tearstained face and laid her palm against Vanya's equally teary face. "I want you to know that you are a part of this family, blood or not. You are my daughter, and Aros is my grandson. And nothing can or ever will change that."

"Why are you saying all this?"

Aslaug smiled and hugged her close, hiding her face in Vanya's neck.  If it weren't for the closeness, she wouldn't be able to have heard the Queen's next words. "I thought it needed to be said. We never know when we might draw our last breath. Ubbe and Sigurd went on a visit, and you are the only family that remains here. We should stick together."

Vanya nodded and hugged the woman tighter. "Of course. Do you want me to stay the night?"

"I would love that."

Hoenir walked the path around the village with a horn of ale in one hand, his other resting on his new sword. His morning walk towards Ivar's and Vanya's hut was always pleasant. Usually, he took a walk around town first, but today something felt off. So he chose to go straight to their home.

The atmosphere around him made Hoenir uneasy and on edge. He felt like prey in the lion's den, just waiting to be swallowed by the bigger animal lurking around the corner. His visions have been horrifying for some time now, and he couldn't make sense of them.

Yesterday he came with his worries to Aslaug waiting for an explanation, but the Völva told him not to worry. The Seer wasn't of any help either, and so he was left to solve it on his own.

The visions of blood and carnage weren't anything new to him. Destruction was where he was, or better said, he followed it. The Gods sent him where blood was shed, and he did what they asked. In some places, he helped the sick; in others, he slaughtered enemies. Here, he protected a Princess.

Not his most admirable work, but the easiest so far. Looking after Vanya was a challenge, and unfortunately, he was more used to a routine. The ginger preferred to vary her tasks between charity, sewing, or visiting Helga and Floki. She liked to do things spontaneously, and he had to follow. So he implemented routines where he could, morning walks at dawn, a tavern in the evening, training before bed.

But these visions were foreign to him; never before did he dream of owls on thrones or burning ships. He tried every approach to deciphering the pieces he had, but the meaning was still unclear.

He entered Vanya's hut without knocking; without Ivar home, the chances of his seeing something he wouldn't want to see are slim. But the house was empty, and the fireplace was cold. "Fuck."

He runs out of the hut, making his way to the Great Hall, but the snapping of a twig startles him. "Who’s there? I don't have time for games, so show yourself."

Eight women with shields and swords walked out from behind the huts, glaring at him as if he offended them. The shields were painted with the colors of Lagertha's Earldom. "I would say I am shocked, but that would be a lie."

The women charged at him as he drew both of his swords, fighting them off. He cut through two easily, but an arrow flew from somewhere, hitting him in the shoulder. The remaining six women used the opportunity to disarm him, another well-aimed arrow to his knee, putting him to his knees.

Hoenir looked up to the rooftop from where the arrow came from to see a blonde woman standing there, notching another arrow. "Torvi." A shield hit him over the head right after he felt a pain in his tight and a hit to his jaw. And then everything went black, he collapsed into the mud.

Aros whined in Vanya's arms as Aslaug got dressed for her meeting with the Usurper Lagertha. The woman invaded Kattegat to become Queen, and Vanya would rather they escape than face the shieldmaiden that could kill Aslaug in the blink of an eye.

But Aslaug was determined to face her husband's first wife; she could see it in her stance and eyes. This made Vanya wonder if yesterday's sentiment was because of today's situation. Aslaug turned to Vanya with the sword of Kings in her hands and walked towards the shaken ginger.

She pulled Vanya to her, a hand on the back of her head, and leaned closer to her ear. "Be brave, Vanya. If you let them see fear, you let them win. Be invincible." With that, Aslaug pulled away and kissed her forehead, leaving the Great Hall surrounded by warriors with Vanya and Aros in the rear. Hoenir was gods know where, which made her worry for his safety.

Maybe he was fighting outside, and they will arrive to see Lagertha's corpse in the middle of the street. With unsure steps, Vanya walked behind the confident Queen, praying for everything to end soon. They stayed behind as Aslaug walked through the cheering crowd to the blond shieldmaiden.

The sight behind Lagertha made Vanya's breath hitch. Some shieldmaiden's had Hoenir captured, his face bloody and body impaled by three arrows.He was breathing heavily, kneeling in the dirt with a pool of blood under him. Tears gathered in her eyes when she saw him; he looked half dead.

They pulled the hood of his head to show Aslaug what happened to one of her best fighters. But to their surprise, Aslaug stood her ground, looking at the seasoned shieldmaiden before her.

"How strange Lagertha, that you would play the usurper. One woman against another. It doesn't quite fit with your reputation."

"I was never the usurper. Always the usurped." She put her sword away, watching the other Queen with determined eyes. "You took my husband, my world, and my happiness. The fact that you are a woman is neither here nor there."

"I didn't take your husband. He chose to be with me."

"He didn't choose. You're a witch. You bewitched him." Even from afar, Lagertha's serious face and tone made Vanya take a double-take. What's more believable, that the Völva used magic to make Ragnar sleep with her, or that he cheated because he met a pretty girl far away from his wife? Honestly, Ragnar didn't strike Vanya as a man who would fall for magic. The pretty girl was more believable.

Even Aslaug couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the claim. "If that's what you want to believe, it's up to you. I don't disagree women can have power over men. But it's not always magical, is it, Lagertha? In any case," Aslaug looked around the crowd and raised her voice so they could all hear her next words. "Ragnar is dead."

The crowd gasped and talked among themselves in a mix of confusion, shock, and disbelief. "You don't know that." Lagertha accused Aslaug, not wanting to face the possibility he was actually gone.

"I dreamed it. I warned him about his journey. In my dream, his boats were sunk in a storm. Ragnar died." The Queens face saddened, and Aros whined in Vanya's arms. "So did my son, Ivar."

"But you don't know that." The desperation on Lagertha's side was obvious. Aslaug averted her gaze as if she was thinking before looking back up at her with a tilted head.

"No. I don't know that for sure. It was just a dream." The people whispered while Lagertha glared at the woman who taunted her in a dire situation. Hoenir looked towards the direction where the crying of a baby came from to see Vanya. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but Torvi dug her nails into his shoulder wound, silencing him.

Lagertha's eyes were tearful, and her voice honest as she steered back to the topic at hand. "And I have dreamed of taking back my home. I have dreamed it for a long time. But if I have to fight for it, then I will."

Aslaug smirked in amusement. "Don't worry. I could never fight you, Lagertha. I am not my mother, nor yet my father. I would never win." She threw the sword of Kings to the ground, raising up the murmurs once again. "But still, I have fulfilled my destiny. The gods foretold Ragnar would have many sons. And I have given him those sons. I am as much a part of his saga, Lagertha, as you are. But now I renounce everything."

The crowd kept getting louder as Aslaug continued her jabs at the usurper, finding the whole ordeal amusing in a sense. After all, when Ivar was born, they seemed to have made up, only for Lagertha to change her mind seventeen years later.

"All I ask is safe passage. All I ask is that you let me, my daughter Vanya and my grandson leave here in peace, to go wherever the gods decide. And you shall have back your hearth and home..." Aaslaug preened at the shocked shieldmaiden. "With my blessing. And my sons, when they hear how it was done, will be grateful for the manner of it... And not seek revenge."

Lagertha nodded at the reminder of Aslaug's three living sons. "I understand." She moved out of Aslaug's way, Vanya running up behind her so they could leave together. Aslaug motioned for the ginger to walk in front of her, thanking the new Queen of Kattegat.

The two women and babe walked forward bravely; heads held high. A swissing sound and Aslsaug stopping made Vanya halt as well. She turned around to see Aslaug collapse to her knees with a smile on her face, Lagertha standing behind her with a bow in her hand.

"NO!" Vanya run towards her mother in law, catching her in her arms, Aros crying hysterically in his sling. She pulled the Queen tighter to her, laying her head against her shoulder as she tried to put pressure on the wound in her back. "No, no, no. You can't die, you can't die."

But she could feel the lack of heartbeat and the sticky blood on her hand, the dead weight of her mother figure a painful truth. "No." Vanya sobbed into her shoulder, raising her eyes to meet Lagetha's, the satisfaction in the blue eyes the last nail in her coffin.

She watched the blonde with disgust and hate in her eyes, wishing she would burst into flames on the spot, giving her the most painful death imaginable. "You..." She spat the words out, tears streaming down her face, failing to hold up the corpse any longer.

Carefully she laid her down on the ground, guards running up to her to haul her away from the body. Vanya struggled against them, screaming her throat raw, just like her son against her chest. But it was no use as they dragged her away, Aslaug laying on the cold ground, alone.

Vanya did as Aslaug ordered her to do; she hid her fear and resentment under a mask of power and pride. Lagertha watched her walk to the shore; the ginger had her hair loose and was dressed in black from head to toe. A golden crown rested on her head, big dangly earrings, and a golden necklace around her neck.

The funeral was a miserable affair; the moment they lit the boat, it felt like a part of Vanya died. As if she crawled into the ship and curled herself around the horse head, burning alive alongside Aslaug's corpse.

The Queen looked as magnificent as she did while alive, finally free of all the burdens that came with marrying Ragnar Lothbrok. Vanya stood alongside the shores, surrounded by shieldmaidens, a prisoner. Brynja was forbidden anywhere near her, and she never felt more alone. Hoenir was being taken care of by some healers; the only one she had left was Aros.

Her son hated the scene as much as her, clutching her black dress in his tiny fists, hiccuping in between sobs. Humming a lullaby into his ear didn't help either. She wondered if he understood what happened or what danger they were in now.

She may have walked onto the shore surrounded by Aslaug's guards, but a nod from the new Queen made them abandon her, Lagertha's warriors surrounding her instead. Their loyalties lay with the new ruler, which meant that if she ordered Vanya's death, no one would try to stop her.

Vanya's head was on the chopping block, the axe dangling over her head. But she had to hide her fear, look as if she was at peace with death, or hid an ace in her sleeve. But she was powerless; the only thing she has is her courage.

Lagertha stood away from her, smiling in satisfaction, unbothered by Vanya's hateful stare. This time, Vanya didn't pray for her demise; she wished she could kill the bitch herself. An eye for an eye, a life for a life.

By the time Ubbe and Sigurd returned, everything was in chaos. Asluag was buried, and Lagertha sat on her throne. "Where's our mother?"

"She's dead, Ubbe." She replied nonchalantly, causing the two brothers to look at her in shock. They refused to go to England with Ragnar to protect Kattegat and their mother and failed both. "I killed her."

"Why?" The question was soft and laced with confusion and hurt. Despite being the oldest, Ubbe felt useless, helpless. He left her and signed her death sentence in return.

"She took Kattegat away from me. I wanted it back." Torvi and Astrid watched the Ragnarsson curiously, waiting for them to attack. Ubbe drew his weapon, and just as fast, the rest of the hall did as well.

Sigurd tried to hold him back, knowing it would be futile and would probably result in their deaths as well. "Where's Vanya and Aros? What did you do to them?" He asked, looking around the hall for his nephew and sister in law, but couldn't see them.

"They are alive, but not here. I do not know where they are."

"Why didn't you also have us killed?" Sigurd asked again, trying to make sense of Lagertha's plan. Did she really think they wouldn't avenge their mother? No matter how strained his relationship with her was, Lagertha's actions would hold consequences.

Sitting on her throne of lies, Lagertha smiled somewhat smugly. "This was nothing to do with you. You are Ragnar's sons. It was not your fault that your father was bewitched."

Ubbe pointed his dagger towards her, spitting words like venom. "It was a mistake not to kill us."

"That's a chance I was prepared to take." Ubbe turned his back to the new Queen, dropping his coat and charging towards her. Sigurd was held back by numerous warriors with swords to his throat as his brother fought his way to Lagertha.

He would have made it if it were not for Astrid stepping in and the others using the chance to pin him to the ground. Lagertha watched the Ragnarsson growling on the floor like a feral beast, worry evident in her eyes.

Sigurd and Ubbe left the Great Hall, the older of the two beaten up pretty badly. Brynja watched them go, taking the dark alley's between the houses to stay out of the usurper's sight. Striding after them, she picked up a pebble and threw it at Sigurd's head, startling the young Prince.

He turned around in shock to see her red hair in the alley, mentioning for him to come closer, he pulled his brother after him. "Brynja? What do you want?"

The ginger rolled her blue eyes and took both by the hand, leading them through the less crowded ways, taking various turns to shake off any followers. In the end, they reached a farm on top of a hill, hushed voices spoke inside the hut. "We were worried that they killed you too. Luckily, the Gods heard some of Vanya's prayers."

"You know where she is?" Ubbe questioned the servant earnestly only to ear a shushing sound and a nod. When the door opened, they were greeted with a bearded man with a bow pointed at that.

"Put it down, father. The Ragnarssons are back."

"Thank the Gods." He lowered the weapon and allowed them in. Behind a curtain in the kitchen were hushed voices by candlelight. One belonged to their sister in law, which made them sigh in victory.

"Vanya!" Sigurd called out, pulling back the curtain to see the Saxon Princess on her knees with an older woman by her side, tending to someone on a bed of furs. The someone was barechested, with bandages over his shoulder and pants ripped in some places to give access to his other wounds. "Is that Hoenir?"

"Arrow wounds, bruises, a broken nose, and two broken fingers, cuts, and scrapes all over as well. They beat him in the morning, left him on the ground to bleed out." Vanya explained, wringing the bloody cloth in a basin of water.

"Will he be ok?" Sigurd questioned, walking closer to his friend's bedside. The two men grew close over time, bonding over their love for music and Vanya. Hoenir was a good listener and gave wise advice when needed; it would be a shame if he died like this instead of the battlefield. A man like him deserved Valhalla.

Vanya bandaged another wound on the knee as the older woman wiped his face clean, and Brynja moved to find him some new clothes. "If the Gods's will it. We gave him tea to put him to sleep. But it's up to his strength and the Gods if he lives."

"We should move him." Ubbe declared, looking down at his sister to see her crying, eyes bloodshot, and Aros sleeping on another fur next to Hoenir. "I am sorry we left."

"She shot her Ubbe." Vanya sobbed out, looking at the beaten-up man in desperation. As if Ubbe could bring Aslaug back from the dead. "After renouncing everything and asking safe passage! Lagertha shot her in the back. I felt her die in my arms..."

[peanutxparker]

A (very long) list of all of my favorite AJJ lyrics because why not

Candy Cigarettes and Cap Guns (2005)

“Well my great grand-dad he died of cancer, from smoking too many cigarettes. But I must confess that he did quite profess to being the coolest motherfucker I ever met.”

“And cocaine is essentially vegan and they don't give a fuck anyway.”

“And I can't help but miss him even though he hit me everyday.”

“So fuck white people! (fuck white people!)”

“Heaven is a special place in hell where you can watch the people you hate get hurt.”

“You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming ‘cause I'm gonna take your life. You find me quite charming and I find it quite alarming and I'm sad you won't be my wife.”

“What makes you think you can be so pretty? And what makes you think you can be so great? And what makes you think you can be so intelligent? And what makes you think you can be so far away?”

“What makes you think you can be so wonderful? And what makes you think you can be so keen? And what makes me think I can be so hurtful? And what makes me think I can be so mean?”

“Sometimes I feel like a cigarette, I'm wrapped in paper and I'm suffocating to death.”

“I don't want to be a cigarette anymore. I'll go to hell in my self death all day and night, so please just put me out.”

People Who Can Eat People Are The Luckiest People In The World (2007)

“Rejoice despite the fact this world will hurt you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will kill you. Rejoice despite the fact this world will tear you to shreds. Rejoice because you’re trying your best”

“I'm afraid to leave the house. I'm as timid as a mouse. I'm afraid if I go out I'll outwear my welcome. I'm not a courageous man. I don't have any big lasting plans. I'm too cowardly to take a stand, I want to keep my nose clean. And it's sad to know that we're not alone in this and it's sad to know that there's no honest way out. In this life we lead, we could conquer everything if we could just get the brave to get out of bed in the morning.”

“And I give a thank-you to my father for not raising me, and I give a finger to my step-father for beating me, and I give props to myself for achieving, and god damn I’m glad that I survived, and god damn I’m surprised that I survived.”

“So I looked into your eyes and I saw the reflection of a coward you and I both hate very much and then I grabbed the knife and I let the blood out of your throat and I smashed those tiny mirrors inside of your skull.”

“If I don’t go to hell when I die I might go to heaven, might go to heaven. But probably not.”

“Just happy times and half assed rhymes and mimes because mimes are dears, but most of all I want no more tears.”

“No more racism. No more discrimination. No more fat dumb fucks keeping people out of our nation.”

“We’re all one big band across this land and we should sing in tune. Let us grow the balls to break the walls, we’ve got to do it soon.”

“And I hope our candles flicker and die so that our hearts don’t burn to the ground.”

“First we were babies, we're birthing and dying. Then we were children, we're playing and crying. And then we're teenagers and smoking and fucking. But now we're all grown up and we're sadly sighing.”

“And your manic depression, it comes and it goes. Your parasympathetic nervous system reacts and you're in fight or flight mode.”

“How's the world so small when the world is so large? And what made the world? Could I please speak to who's in charge? Everything is real but it's also just as fake. From your daughter's birthday party to your grandmother's wake.”

“I've tried to know which words to sing so many times. I tried to know which chord to play and I tried to make it rhyme. And I tried to find the key that all good songs are in. And I tried to find that notes to make that great, resounding din.”

“There's someone in your head waiting to fucking strangle you.”

“I've got essays, I've got finals due. I have got lots and lots of problems.”

“Welcome to this world, have as much fun as you would like while helping others have as much fun as you're having. Be kind to those you love and be kind to those you don't but for God's sake you gotta be kind.”

Can’t Maintain (2009)

“I wanna pick up the pieces and plant them in the ground. When a tree grows there I want to chop that tree down. Build it into a boat and float it in a lake. And with dynamite I will explode the thing that makes me make mistakes.”

“Sometimes I get so lonesome I can't breathe. Sometimes I get so scared that I can't speak. Sometimes I get so worried I can't hear my heartbeat. Anyway…”

“I wanna tear out my heart and give it away to a person more deserving one day. If all I see is the worst in everything that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get, that's all I'm gonna get.”

“And people freak me out. People make me scared. People make me so damn self-aware.”

“I get bronchitis twice a year at least. My lungs aren't the way they should be. And I smoke more than a mother fuckin chimney. I declare war on my body.”

“You will cough up crows that peck my eyes and I will do nothing but go blind.”

“We could live there together or I'll live alone, less happy but I'll live... unfortunately.”

“And no one will know how I truly feel ‘cause I can no longer differentiate between what is fake and what is real. I don't know how I feel.”

“And I will always appreciate bad days like this because they grant me a point of reference in regards to my happiness.”

“If the bridge that I was driving over collapsed while I was driving over it that may not be such a bad thing. I would finally meet my maker, I could meet the great creator, and I'd punch him for teaching me how to sing.”

“Don't know if I believe in god but sometimes I pray because the way I was raised keeps me afraid.”

“I hope I can forgive me for having the nerve to exist. I hope someone can help me make some sense of this.”

“Sense and sensibility and peaceful productivity, a pretty girl with broken wings is all that I desire. But there's so much hostility in all the things surrounding me. The awful glow of enmity is trying to stop my shine. So I try to look inwardly at all the things inside of me but sodomy and buggery keep bubbling to the top.”

“I met you once over the phone, you sounded sad and you seemed alone. You left me but I never left you. I never had the chance to.”

“If you spend all your heart on something that has died you are not alive and that can't be your life.”

Knife Man (2011)

“There's no one to blame. People are just fucking mean.”

“So if I see a penny on the ground, I leave it alone or fucking flip it. I'm a straight white male in America. I've got all the luck I need.”

“I've got a pile of broken mirrors and I'm walking under ladders and I'll spill a ton of salt because to me that doesn't matter.”

“You were dead by the time that I had found you. Your blood was spilled on the couch where we had first kissed. So I carried you west to the sea so I could wash you. Your body felt just like a back pack.”

“I hate whiny, fucking songs like this but I can't afford a therapist. Sorry guys, here's a solo.”

“Some days I feel like I'm the weakest and others the strongest. These days are the longest and I've got the weirdest feeling about this and I wanna go away for a while.”

“I wish I had a bullet big enough to fucking kill the sun. I'm sick of songs about the summer.”

“When you have no one, you are no one. Like I said, I used to work at the people pound. All these no ones clumped together, just like a human lost and found. If they left them all be someones there wouldn't be enough to go around. It's better for us all us if there are no ones. And I knew a lot of no ones round that time. They used to all be someones until something took their life and all their someones disappeared while they're stuck there waiting in a line. And for them now, no one seems to have the time.”

“They say ambition is an enemy of weakness and greatness is an enemy of fame.When I pick up my guitar and I try to write a song, I think of what my mentor used to say… “Who fucking gives a rat's ass Steve, just write a love song. Cus they'll keep your belly full and your wallet lined. Don't bother these nice people with your sad sack songs. If you ask me I think they're just a waste of time.””

“Inspiration is the best friend of my sorrow and sorrow is the best friend of my drink. Well I want to look myself in the eye tomorrow but I'm too worried of what other folk's will think.”

“And the troubles in my heart need to get let out. And the troubles in my heart need to escape. And I never liked writing poetry and I never liked doing pottery and God knows that I never learned to paint. So every now and then, I'll sing sad songs. Cus it keeps my spirit light and my conscience clean. And if you don't care to hear I don't mind if you go out for some air. Cus I'm happy that you're happier than me.”

“So I wish I had a cigarette for every time a perfect stranger asked me for a cigarette but I wonder what a cigarette will really do to help that person out. I wish to God I had some spare change for every time a perfect stranger asked me for some spare change but there's not enough spare change in the world to make such an empty gesture count.”

“You can hope it gets better and you can follow your dreams but hope is for presidents and dreams are for people who are sleeping.”

“You don't have it any better and you don't have it any worse. You're an irreplaceable human soul with your own understanding of what it means to suffer and that’s a huge bummer.”

“I'm afraid of the way I live my life. I'm afraid of the way I don't. I'm afraid of the things that I want to do but I won't. I'm afraid of God. I'm afraid to believe and I'm afraid of all the loved ones that I've made leave. I'm afraid that my dog doesn't love me anymore. I'm afraid of the social laziness that let Kitty Genovese die. And I'm afraid of the mob mentality that makes otherwise normal people go blind. I'm afraid of the way that the world works and I'm afraid of the words in my notebooks. I'm afraid that you all know that I am a pervert.”

“It's harder to be yourself than it is to be anybody else. I wish I were a little less of a coward but the big red bird that lives under the city doesn't give a damn about me and it dies every night. So I bought a knife. I am a knife.”

Rompilation (2012)

“I used to be a spiderman, I used to be a cowboy from hell, but not anymore. Now I'm just a clam and I live inside this shell inside this shell I am. God damn I hate my brain.”

“I'll dip my brain in medicine so that you can stand to be with me.”

“Give me your tired, give me your tired, give me your poor. When our government acts like this, I wonder what World War II was for and the rest of the country hates us more and more. Lady Liberty is not a whore.”

“This is not a protest, it's a tortoise slowly pushing through a race. I hope the tortoise keeps its patience while the hare continues to pepper-spray its face.”

“There is no enemy, there's only people that also love their families and they're scared that they won't have enough long after they are deceased. But how much money do they need? Love turns into fear, and fear turns into greed. There is no enemy, there's only dummies that also love their families.”

“And this is not a phase, it's just a matter of time, with diligence and peacefulness, you will reach them and you will change their minds. If you stay there long enough, they'll start to see you.”

“And when you pushed my face in shit how could that have made you feel like a man or like a monster. It's your fault that I can't tell the difference.”

“In the evening I try songwriting. I'm self loathing, but I love singing. I'll try escaping these evil feelings but they keep coming, they keep coming…”

“So the baby's gonna have a daddy, that's wonderful news. He won't be the greatest parent but neither will you! Gotta get out while you can, otherwise you're screwed. Your legs are broken and your eyes are black and blue.”

“And smoking is like hiring a hitman for five dollars a day, and as cool as that is, I don't wanna keep dying this way.”

Christmas Island (2014)

“Shoot him again ‘cause I can see his soul dancing.”

“If you give it to me I’ll give it back much harder. If you treat me like a son, then I’ll treat you like a daughter. Everyone has a future, everyone has a soul, everyone has a heart, they have a mind, they have control.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he has something the prove because he does. He sleeps a couple hours in the morning, hates the morning when he wakes up.”

“The Coffin Dancer dances like he wants to make a friend, but he does not.”

“Getting naked and playing with guns. There's a gerbil in the microwave, a baseball bat in everyone. Sharing kisses and building a bomb. We'll set it off like Microsoft in '94.”

“McDonald's PlayPlace before the Xbox, cake frosting, sweet talking, bedroom wall, covered in knives, touching God, burning shit. We'll make a wish and take a trip to Future Town like our daddy did.”

“Have you ever wanted to be, have you ever wanted to see someone better in the mirror? Have you ever wanted to go, have you ever wanted to know somewhere greener, somewhere cleaner. I bet you got something beautiful in mind.”

“I can’t handle astounding works of beauty. I think I like my pretty pretty ugly but the beautiful soul I witnessed in that movie was an entirely different kind of overwhelming. It was a dog that won’t stop barking. Like a cut that never stops bleeding. Arizona sunsets in the early evening. Or a grown man inconsolably weeping.”

“I am the Kool-Aid stains on the mouth of a kid whose name is most likely Cody. He had a juice box for breakfast and he carries a stick that he most likely found in the alley. Cody doesn't have friends and his parents hate each other and he wants to find a better way to love his family and after school he hangs out in the abandoned house behind the Arby's.”

The Bible 2 (2016)

“Oh, I love you cause I love you cause I can.”

“On your last night at Saint Mary's you were way too intoxicated to breathe. So I used your ribs as ladders and I climbed up on your chest and I jumped up and down just like a trampoline.”

“Confused and rude. Such a special kind of way to be cruel.”

“If I were one of the things, I'd be american garbage. The most beautiful thing. The most beautiful american garbage you have ever seen.”

“No more shame, no more fear, no more dread.”

“And if you don't want to feel the feeling, no one should ever make you feel the feeling.”

“I thought I saw you before I knew who you were.”

“I just wanted to rage but all I got was tired”

“I showed him all the books that I was raised on. Your Madeleine L'Engle(s) and D'Aulaires' Mythologies.”

“And his eyes became a beacon, an LCD projector, broadcasting all my memories in a clear and vivid picture. His tongue became a staircase, his uvula - The knocker of an ornate wooden door that lead me straight into my future. His throat became a hallway with a thousand baby pictures and I became forgiveness, I transformed into the closure that I lost when I learned about the tragedy of all of us. I lost it when I learned about the tragedy of all of us.”

Good Luck Everybody (2019)

“If you don't give it to them they'll starve to death and that's alright.”

“I've got the normalization blues, this isn't normal, this isn't good.”

“I'm detached and I'm distracted, all keyed up but unproductive, vacillating between being all excited and disgusted and then dozing lackadaisically in this bubble where I've made my mental home. Connection's more important now than it ever was, but I'd rather be alone.”

“And when we talk about the president, we're either pissed off or we're giggling about an atrocity he's committing or some stupid shit he's tweeting. He's a symptom and a weapon of the evil men who really run the show. The ones who melt down human beings into money like a cruel Sorcerer's Stone.”

“This is the golden age of dickotry, probably the last golden age of anything, and the ugliest word in the English language is anthropocene. Good luck, everybody. Good luck.”

“But before that, you'll be a doormat, for every vicious narcissist in the world. Oh how they'll screw you, all up and over, then feed you silence for dessert.”

“I'm sorry that you have to have a body, filled with infection, one hundred scabs singing in unison, eyes and hands, sometimes bullets, uninvited, passing through us.”

“Oh to be awake for such a shitty dream. A bullet in the head of every decent thing.”

“The lake of dead black children that America created is getting fuller than the founding Fathers even wanted. The ghost of great America was underestimated and now it rages like a cold sore on the lip of this dumb nation. Again we've slipped inside a pit of absolute despair. That's where we live.”

“Rewarding our worst cruelty, they destroyed our shared reality, and now they upsell us our dignity like some fucked VIP package.”

“There is no absolute, these days there's no such thing as truth and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“I'm a burnout and a fool, oblivious to all I do. I move my lips when I read and breathe with my mouth open, wide open. Timid, meek, and cruel, this is the best that I can do. I need to speak my truth, yet here I'm broken wide, wide open. My resentment, big and strong, and all the things that I can't change. They'll buckle me beneath the weight. I will drive myself insane with all the things that I can't change. I hate all the things that I can't change.”

“You're a loudmouth and a tool, and as it turns out I am too, and you don't need to be a dick about it.”

“Because I know that you know what I need more than me and I know that you need me more than that.”

“For all the pussies you grab and the children you lock up in prison, for all the rights you roll back and your constant stream of racism, for all the poison you drip in my ear, for all your ugly American fear. I wrote you this beautiful song called Psychic Warfare.”

“I hate you with all of my heart. I hate you with all of my art.”

“I went back to the desert, little Midwest in me, and now I am colder than I used to be. I live in a fortress the shape of my body, and now there's a coldness, and it's shaped like me. Now I don't suffer any more bullshit gladly. Even though everything's bullshit now, here in 2019 and you can bet it's gonna be a bunch of bullshit too out in sweet 2020 or whenever this album's released.”

[deobitchxx]

Hi~ Can I request a fluff with Changmin and prompt #32 and #33 pls?

[ 16:34 // 26.09.2020 // R.FLUFF ] “When are you getting off work?” His silvery voice was a mixture of concerns and exhaustion combined through the other line. You shrugged your shoulders off, as if the latter would see the action. “Not sure, I’ll be done after sweeping this floor.” “Alright, wait for me there.” “But Ji Ch-” Before you could even block him from coming, he already ended the call, knowing the fact that you won’t allow him to visit you. He usually only had 2 hours of sleep on the moderate schedule and if his team’s comeback is around the corner, he might stay up for almost 2 days straight without any proper sleep. It was not like you weren’t excited to meet him but you wanted him to use the break time for resting. In addition, the cafe shop that you are working at is in the center of Seoul, so it is not impossible to have his fans wandering around the big city. Sighing, you shoved your phone into the pocket of the apron and continued to sweep the floor. 

“I’m sorry I’m late, traffic problem.” The heavy breath of his clearly showed that he hurried to your workplace. You were waiting for him outside the cafe shop after locking down all the doors and windows. “It’s fine, how’s work today?” You asked him as he held your tote bag, wrapping the strap on his shoulder and accompanied you to the bus stop. He let out a deep breath, “Don’t even let me start it. It was so tiring, more tired than our previous comeback.” Your chuckling sounds pleasantly rang to his ears, “You guys earn a lot of fans after Road to Kingdom. I’m sure you guys are working hard for them.” You gave a pat on his shoulder and added, “Cheer up, Ji Changmin. I know you can do it,” he looked at you, who was smiling flawlessly to the latter. Oh, how bad he wanted to own that smile of yours. He beamed along and casually put his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close, “Then may I get a free cake tomorrow?” You nudged him on the side and stuck your tongue, “Pay for the cake if you wanted to, I’m not your factory to provide free cakes.” 

The sounds of glasses clinking and loud music were dominating the entire space of the underground bar. You were not a big fan for parties, but this one was an exception. All of your and Changmin’s friends gathered at the bar to celebrate his team’s comeback. The owner of the bar was Changmin’s closest friend and he wanted to appreciate his efforts in preparing for the comeback. To be honest, the party didn’t sound exciting enough to you because the person you wanted to see the most wasn’t around to be seen. You let out a groan, leaning your back against the wooden chair. “Missing your sweetheart huh?” The owner of the bar, Jaehyuk, asked you across the table. “Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, not in the mood to joke around. “Oh come on, we all know how whipped you are for our Changmin.” It was true though, you like Changmin a lot. You just got the chance to meet him last year and it felt like you’ve liked him for years. You wanted him by yourself but the nightmare of him rejecting you haunted you a lot. You are afraid that your confession might make the friendship worsen. However, little that you didn’t know, Changmin feels the same way too. That’s the reason why your friends are frustrated because none of you are willing to take the first move. 

“Just shut up,” you threw the snack towards Jaehyuk, who apparently saw it coming and dodged. The others laughed, having fun teasing you when it’s about Changmin. You decided to ignore their childish behaviours and paid more attention on your phone, reading all the comments for Changmin’s team and mostly him. ‘Changmin is so handsome,’ ‘Oppa be mine’, ‘Changmin I love you!!!’ all of these comments seemed to be very common for you to read. When you were just about to scroll down to read more, someone called you and it turned out to be no other than the latter. You excused yourself and headed to the toilet, the only safest place in the bar. “Hello?” “Y/N~ What are you doing now?” “Nothing much, just waiting for the showcase to be aired. How about you?” You kicked imaginary stones on the air, walking front and to the back while talking with him over the phone. “I’m nervous, I don’t think I can do well. Maybe a free cake would be a great choice to cheer me up?” You giggled over the line, “How am I going to give you that? I’m not even allowed to enter the building.” A smile escaped from his lips, “It’s okay, your voice is enough. Thank you.” You hummed in response as silence suddenly creeped into the conversation. “Make sure to watch the showcase, hm? I’ll go to the bar after I finish, wait for me.” 

The smile on your face can’t seem to find its way to escape as your eyes fixed on the huge screen that displayed the showcase of the team. However, it didn’t last that long when you have to wait for another hour to see Changmin’s face. Some of your friends already got drunk after drinking the combination of soju and wine, some even dozed off on the sofa. “I’m sorry that I’m late, we had a short meeting with the CEO after the showcase.” Your ears perked and your eyes lit up once you heard your favourite voice, turning around to face the young man entering the bar and took a seat next to you. “You should’ve come earlier, Y/N refused to drink with us because you’re not around.” Jaehyuk groaned and glared at Changmin, “You are so lucky that someone actually waited for you.” He laughed a bit and turned to face you, “Is it true?” Pinkish blushes appeared on your cheeks as you quietly nodded, leading the latter to caress the top of your head softly while whispering just for you to hear, “Thank you.” “S-Stop looking at me, I probably look like a tomato now.” You tried to avoid his glances, trying to busy yourself with pouring the alcoholic drink into your cup. Seeing you flustered next to him is one of his favourite sights, chortled as he turned to focus on his other friends.

“Why didn’t you drink? You’re the only one that’s sober now,” You puffed your lower lips and about to offer another drink for Changmin, but he was quick enough to hold your wrists and stopped you. “I can’t drink a lot, I have schedules tomorrow.” “Humph,” you looked away, sulked that he wasn’t accompanying you to drink together. “Come on, I will drink with you another time.” He held your shoulders and turned you to lock his eyes with yours. “Y/N,” he called you out but the drunk state of yours can’t hear him properly. He sighed and called you again, “Y/N.” “Yes?” You lazily opened your heavy lids, trying to look into his eyes. He took a deep breath, still debating if he should do it or not. You lost your patience as your hands went to cup his cheeks, puffing his lips out like a duck, “What is it? Do you have something to share with me?” “Well actually I..” he held your hands into his grips, pulling down to his thighs while not breaking any eye contact. “I..” “What is it?” “I.. I c-can’t say it here,” his cheeks now were red due to the embarrassment that he was going to face soon. 

“Why? Is it because it’s in public? Do you want to talk privately?” You shot him questions, afraid that he might actually have some serious topic to talk about with you. “We can go to the toilet and talk there,” you stood up and about to drag him along with you to the restroom. However, his reflexes got him and quickly stopped you by grabbing your wrist and pulled you back to the chair. “N-No..” He shook his head and mumbled under his breath, “I m-might lose self control if I’m alone there with you.” “You what?! Stop mumbling around and straight to the point,” you groaned, the way he was stuttering and speaking so quietly annoyed the shit out of you. He looked at you with a surprised expression, shocked that you suddenly raised your voice on him. You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, “Say what you want to say while I’m trying my best to be sober.” He stayed quiet for a while, the drunk you were really frightening him. He mustered up all his courage, “Okay, I might say this once so feel free to forget it if you found it uncomfortable.” You nodded and paid your full attention to the latter, “Go on, Ji Changmin. I’m waiting.”

“Well actually I.. I think I.. Y-You know.. The l word..” He fumbled his fingers, eyes dropped down to his thighs as he was not daring enough to look into your eyes. “What l word?” You asked him and earned nothing but silence from the latter. “Come on, it’s only the two of us that are still up. All of them passed out, what’s holding you from saying it?” Again, silence replied to you. “Ji Changmin, I told you I didn’t have enough time to play with your sh-” “I love you okay?” He confessed in his most bravest voice, almost loud enough to wake the rest. “I love you. It’s crazy how I can’t stop thinking about you ever since you helped me during my darkest time. The questions that related to you keep on repeating in my mind. ‘Have she eaten yet?’ ‘Will she wait for me again today?’ ‘If I confess now, will she accept me?’ ‘What is she doing now?’ All of these are taking turns running in my mind.” Changmin added, “The sight of you smiling at your male customer annoyed me but I can’t complain because that’s a basic manner in your workplace and besides, you’re not mine to begin with. I’m just- I just can’t stop thinking about you and it drove me crazy. Even while the stylists help me with my tie, I’m imagining you are the one that does it for me.” 

“I-” His sentence got cut off as soon as he felt your plump lips against his. You were closing your eyes, braving yourself to lean for a peck. You moved to the back after a while, biting your lower lips as you dared yourself to look him in the eyes. “Y.. You speak too much. It’s hurting my mind.” He noticed the sudden red blushes on your cheeks as he was sure that it wasn’t because you were drunk, instead it was because you were equally flustered as he did. He leaned in to place a soft peck back on yours and rested his forehead on yours, “I love you.” His soft voice was enough to drive you crazy and bring him to places, but you restrained yourself from doing so and caressed his cheek. “I.. I love you too.” The way he beamed was so beautiful, as he held your hand that was on his cheek and planted a peck on the back of your hand. “I wanted to say ‘I love you’ for the first time without stuttering, but that failed. Guess I’m a failure when it comes to you.”

“Oh please, I might do worse than you if I was the one that confessed first,” you snorted and leaned your side against the chair, not wanting to look away from the beautiful eyes of his. “So what are we now? Are we still friends?” You asked him as he playfully shrugged his shoulders off, playing dumb, “I don’t know, are you up for friends with benefits?” You laughed it off and hit him on the chest, “Stop playing around, Changmin.” The corner of his lips raised to form a quick grin and caressed your hand, “Uh uh, I think you might have to change the way you called me.” You raised an eyebrow out of curiosity as he added, “You have to call me ‘my boyfriend’ starting from now on.” His finger reached to bop your nose and you tried to bite his finger off like a cat, “Cutie.” He said and ruffled your hair, “Wanna know something?” “What is it?” You asked while your head rested on the chair as Changmin caressed your hand with his thumb in circles, “Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together, guess Jaehyuk gonna get all the money.” You giggled over the ridiculous sentence and fixed your eyes on your hand inside his grip, “You must be kidding.” “I’m saying the truth though! Jaehyuk accidentally spilled the bean to me and it seems like they can’t wait any longer for the result, so I braved myself to take the first step.” “No, even if they didn’t start the bet, I somehow will make a time to confess to you.” His hand laid on your right cheek as you leaned against his touch, “Because I’m starting to love you more than I could imagine.”