#like i think we’d forgive you if you used your power to stop your husband from being arrested

[suzu-kun22]

Allison doesn’t use her powers because she could literally just break the entire plot under her boot by opening her mouth

[smaidjor]

and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 2)

This chapter took me so fucking long but after much struggle I have completed it!

It was supposed to be 3-4k words. It was exactly 6069 pre-editing according to google docs.

You're welcome.

Chapter Title: with your blessing i will go

Chapter Wordcount: 6073

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-esteem issues, discussion of death, non-graphic injury.

AO3

Chapter 1

i know they're losing (companion fic)

Actual fic under the cut:

The next few weeks are miserable, and if Scott tried to claim anything else, he would absolutely be lying to himself. Not that he doesn’t already do that, but he’s not too proud to admit that not seeing Jimmy is torturous. He knows he can’t, he’s firmly placed Jimmy on the off-limits list, but that doesn’t make the self-imposed rule any easier to follow. There’s still a part of him that wants to go running back to Jimmy’s arms, to beg for forgiveness and pray that Jimmy’s warmth is enough to curb the chill in his bones.

Scott shoves that part of him down firmly. He has no time to hesitate or regret, and he will not spend his days pining and sighing over a human. (Or so he tells himself.) He will be the perfect model of an elven king if that’s what it takes to gain his people’s respect, and he will make his parents proud, not that they’re around to see it. He will . Because Scott may not care about what the Council of Elders thinks of him- he hasn’t for twenty years now- but he does care that the people of Rivendell get a leader who cares for their wellbeing. It’s the least he can do, really.

So he takes on the meetings and the paperwork and the aching, gaping hole in his chest with grim determination, ignoring the way his hands always seem to shake a little and he can never quite get warm. It’s fine. Scott is fine. He’s not going to think about golden smiles or warm brown eyes or the look on Jimmy’s face when Scott told him it was over. He’s fine .

Flipping through the stack of official mail he’s received, Scott’s startled when his hand falls on an elegant cream envelope stamped with the crest of the Ocean Empire. How long has this been here? He hurries to get it open, nearly slicing himself on the letter opener in the process.

Out slides an official invitation in neat cursive.

To High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor, Lord King of the Rivendell Empire,

You are cordially invited to a royal ball to be held at the palace of Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs, at 8 pm on the fifth of August.

Formal attire is required.

RSVP as soon as possible.

At the bottom of it, there’s a note in slightly more rushed handwriting.

Smajor- elvenking or not, I will not appreciate it if you mess with Jimmy in any way, shape or form. This ball is to be a peaceful affair, and I will not hesitate to intervene should anything occur.

Lizzie

Scott winces. He...can’t say he doesn’t deserve the warning, any more than he can say that it doesn’t hurt to be warned away from his own husband. Ex-husband, he quickly reminds himself, reaching for stationary to pen a response.

Dear Ocean Queen Lizzie Ldshadowlady, Queen of the Northern Waves and Reefs,

He stops, giving it a bit of thought. Would avoiding Jimmy be worth the political consequences of refusing an invitation like this? No, he concedes reluctantly, it wouldn’t. He can always just avoid Jimmy at the ball- Lizzie would probably be happy for it, honestly. She’s been protective over him from the start. Scott puts the pen back to paper.

Luckily, I will be able to attend the ball. It sounds like a wonderful event and I eagerly anticipate it. As for your note, I will avoid antagonizing Jimmy as much as possible. I would hate to sacrifice diplomatic relations between our kingdoms for a petty squabble. Will that be satisfactory?

Sincerely,

High King Scott Dangthatsalongname Smajor

What’s going on between him and Jimmy is far more than a petty squabble, but Lizzie doesn’t need to know that. It’s fine. It’s not like he’s going to run into Jimmy anyways, right?

The day of the ball arrives, and Scott spends far too long choosing an outfit. He’s not vain, not usually, but...Jimmy will be there. You’re not supposed to want to impress him , Scott scolds himself, but that doesn’t stop him from wearing his nicest golden jewelry. The rest of his outfit is far more strategically planned- long skirts to hide how terrible his balance is when he’s near-constantly struggling to get a full breath into his lungs, gloves to keep his dance partners from questioning his cold hands.

The ball is already in full swing by the time he arrives, the trip from Rivendell taking longer than he thought it would. He’s still greeted by the Ocean Queen herself, though, gliding over in her stunning ballgown of blue and green.

“Welcome!” Her smile is bright, warm in a way he almost envies.

Scott dips his head just enough to be respectful but not so much as to truly defer to her. He thinks that’s right, anyways; he hasn’t had to think about that particular part of etiquette lessons in some twenty years. “Thank you, Queen Lizzie. I apologize for my lateness, the trip was a bit harrowing.”

“No problem at all, I just hope you enjoy the ball!” Lizzie’s smile gains a sharper edge. “I appreciated your letter, by the way. Thank you for your promise to keep it civil, King Smajor. Now we just all have to follow through on our words!” She accompanies that bit with a little laugh, but Scott’s not a fool enough to take it as anything but a warning. She doesn’t want trouble at her ball, and who would, really?

“Hopefully we can manage at least that,” he offers wryly, earning another laugh and a bright “Hopefully!”

Scott doesn’t mean to cause trouble at the ball, he really doesn’t. But before he has a chance to even get a look around, Jimmy’s standing in front of him. And oh, this really isn’t how he hoped it’d go.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets, swallowing the lump in his throat. Jimmy cleans up nicely- really nicely- but Scott’s eyes keep going to the scar on his throat, the permanent reminder of how fragile and mortal Jimmy really is.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy says. The formality sounds awkward in his bright voice, and Scott wants to kiss the uncertainty right off his face. “Care for a dance?”

He can’t- he should, Scott knows. There would be value to an alliance with Jimmy, and he has no good reason to turn him down. That’s not why he says yes, though. It’s that look in Jimmy’s eyes, the hope poorly disguised by indifference. He’s so optimistic. Scott shouldn't encourage it, but he can’t find it in himself to break that fragile hope just yet.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind,” Scott says finally. He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one; Vilya rests on Jimmy’s finger, still, and it’s a battle to keep the memories of giving Jimmy that ring at bay. He wins that battle, though, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and Scott knows it. He steps on Scott’s feet, he gets off-rhythm- he’s frankly not made for dancing, much as the way he hums along to the tune is adorable. His hair, which was probably once nicely styled, has already fallen out of place, and his tunic is a little wrinkled. His hands are rough, tough from all the work he does with them, and his face has a tiny bit of mud on it that he must have missed when getting ready. He looks very much like a sweet little swamp boy, out of place in the midst of all the more elegant and powerful rulers.

He’s the most beautiful thing Scott’s ever seen.

Unlike the last time they danced, back in 3rd life where Jimmy leaned on Scott for balance as he tried to learn the complicated steps, this time it’s Scott clinging to Jimmy for stability. He feels bad about how harsh his grip gets, but he can’t afford to show weakness. He has to stay on his feet.

Scott’s silently thankful when the dance ends and he can lead them off the dance floor. He’s exhausted and shaky, and he’s not sure how much longer he can be around Jimmy without breaking down or doing something very stupid.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He takes a step back, banishing the lingering emotion of their dance.

A beat of silence, and then.

“Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?” Jimmy demands, earning a ripple of gasps from nearby guests.

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back, anger rising to fill the gap in his chest.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

Scott swallows down the lump in his throat. “Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I can still be in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says. He sounds so bitter, so tired. “I know , trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

Jimmy cuts him off, a rare occurrence. “Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf! You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

His chest tightens, and he can barely force the words out. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

It’s Scott’s turn to cut him off. “I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me.” It hurts, but it’s true. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.” Jimmy’s so wonderful, there are bound to be others who see it.

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy says. It’s almost childish, but his next words still break Scott’s heart. “I want you. ”

“You can’t have me.” Scott is vividly aware of the fact that there are eyes on him, that their little spat has attracted the attention of the rest of the ballroom.

“But why? Why, Scott?” Jimmy’s voice breaks, and the crack in it is damn near enough to make Scott lose his tiny bit of remaining self-control. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.” It sounds like an accusation, and maybe it is. Scott did promise him that, after all, and then he went back on it.

It wasn’t for no reason, though. He needs Jimmy to understand that it was for a reason. “I can’t give you that!” He snaps back, and his hands tremble when they try to form fists by his side. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.” It’s bitter, but it’s true. Scott can’t be enough for anyone, in the end.

“Enough for me? For ME?”Jimmy’s voice rises in outrage. “All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existence once in a while!”

Scott’s voice rises in response. “And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?”

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

Scott falls silent, breathing hard as the ballroom goes quiet around them. He spots Lizzie sweeping through the crowd, coming to a stop next to Jimmy.

“Is everything alright, boys?” She’s smiling, but it’s strained, and her eyes promise death if this quarrel was Scott’s fault.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” he says, and he tries to gather his composure as he dips his head to her. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.” He doesn’t look at Jimmy.

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and he only nearly stumbles when he turns to leave.

Distantly, he can hear Jimmy shout after him. “Coward!” The word is harsh, but there’s hurt beneath it. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott stumbles away all the quicker.

He keeps composed all the way out the doors and most of the way down the stairs until he’s sure no one can see him from the ballroom. It’s only then that he breaks into a run, lifting up his stupid skirts so he doesn’t fall. One shoe falls off, a twisted parody of a children’s fairy tale, and he doesn’t bother to retrieve it. The prismarine stabs at his exposed foot, but Scott doesn’t have the energy to care. Instead, he beats his wings, trying to get enough momentum for a good takeoff.

For a few precious moments, he gets off the ground, and then he remembers Jimmy’s face as he left, wingbeats stuttering with the sudden emotion, and tumbles back to the rough prismarine path. It hurts , it does, but it’s nothing on the pain in his chest. Nothing on the words still echoing in his head. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!

Scott lays there for a moment, half-wondering if anyone’s coming after him. It’s unlikely, he knows, given how badly he messed things up. He tells himself that that’s a good thing, that he doesn’t want anyone to come looking. He doesn’t need them. He should be strong.

Before anyone has time to notice or be concerned, he’s forced himself back to his feet, starting the takeoff sequence all over again.

This time, he gets in the air with little difficulty, though he lists to the side as he favors his right wing, which took the brunt of the fall. It’s fine. He’s fine, he doesn’t need help.

If Scott believed in the elven gods anymore, he would thank them for the fact that he gets back to Rivendell at all. There are tears blurring his vision, and every part of his body aches, his chest most of all. His flight is shaky at best, outright dangerous at worst, crashing into trees and rocks and the ground multiple times. Each time, he barely picks himself back up before mobs arrive. Sometimes, he questions if he should at all. He’s as good as dead anyways. And yet, the tiny stubborn part of him that got him through 3rd life won’t let him just lay down and die. For some reason, even though he’s slept enough recently (he thinks, anyways), there are phantoms on him. They sense when their prey is sleep-deprived, Scott knows, and wonders if he’s just weak enough to seem that way to them.

By the time he crash-lands on the mountainside, it’s pushing two in the morning, and Scott is more dead than alive. Not that he hasn’t been for a while now, he thinks, and laughs aloud to himself, bitter.

The night watch give him strange looks, but both elves on guard duty obligingly dip their heads when he stumbles by. He barely musters the energy to nod back.

Finally he makes it back to his house, slamming his door behind him and burying his face in his hands. This is the right thing to do, why does it hurt so much? He already lost Jimmy once, why does it feel like he’s losing him all over again when he never really got him back in the first place?

Someone coughs lightly, breaking through his thoughts. The voice is familiar when they speak- one of his advisors. “Lord Smajor? Any major events we should know of at the ball?”

Cold. Calm. Scott knows this is the way of the elves- their royalty cannot dare be human. “The Codfather’s our enemy and the Ocean Queen probably hates us too.” He doesn’t bother trying to make himself sound calm and collected, pushing off the wall and stalking towards the stairs.

“What?” The advisor’s voice pitches up in shock. “What did you do?”

“None of your business.”

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

“It wasn’t like I was fucking trying to,” He snaps.

A gasp. “Language.”

“Fuck off.”

They hurry after him, making to follow him up the stairs. “Lord Smajor-”

Scott turns to face them, taking in the shock and rage painted across their ancient face. “Leave me be.”

“Do not disrespect your elders,” the advisor scolds. “I remember when you were a child, you always were reckless, but this is a new level of disrespect! Why, Xornoth would never-”

“ Enough ,” he hisses. “Do not talk about my sibling.”

They freeze, a bit of genuine fear creeping onto their face. “My lord-”

“Get out of my house,” Scott snarls.

They wisely obey. Scott slumps against the banister as the surge of adrenaline abates, suddenly exhausted. He’s freezing, he realizes, a bone-deep chill that he doesn’t bother to pretend is from his trip home. Scott’s done lying to himself- he’s in pain, and he’s in love, but then again, those equate to roughly the same thing when all’s said and done. You can’t have heartbreak without love or love without heartbreak. (But oh how he wishes he could.)

Scott doesn’t get out of bed the next day, and no one dares try to force him. Varying members of Rivendell’s Council of Elders make a decent shot at trying to convince him, but all it takes is him fixing them with his dead-eyed stare to make them leave. The people of Rivendell are used to their ruler’s odd sleep schedule by now, brushing it off easily, and the empire itself is mostly functional without him. So instead of getting up and dealing with the corruption or making sure Rivendell’s stores are prepared for winter or any of the things he should be doing, Scott lays there in his own misery and thinks about Jimmy screaming that he’s a coward.

He’s right, that’s the worst part. Scott is a coward. He’s scared of Xornoth and the corruption and never, ever being enough, he’s scared of responsibility and his own mind, he’s scared of fading and dying alone, and- most of all- he’s absolutely terrified of how much he loves Jimmy.

His father warned him about fading, once, back before Scott was expected to carry a crown on his brow and the weight of a nation on his shoulders. He bounced Scott on his knee and told him that elven hearts are fragile, too fragile for how strongly they love. “Don’t fall too deep in love, son,” he said, and the words carried the weight of years of grief. “Don’t care too much about any one person, not if you want to live to be a legend of the ages. Doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, love can be lethal.”

Scott didn’t listen, of course- reckless, rebellious Scott, who never once listened to his elders, went and did the most dangerous thing an elf could do. He fell in love with a human.

And now he’s dying. Surely that gives him a pass to wallow in his own misery for a day or two. He’s been brave for so long, can’t he just rest a few moments? Just...just a few. He’ll just lay here a bit longer.

At that moment, the front door creaks open somewhere below him.

“My lord? Can I come up?” Someone calls from below. Their voice is also familiar- Gilnar. Gilnar’s a good captain of the guard. Dutiful, clever, and far more willing to respect him than most of Rivendell’s high ranking elves.

“If you’ve come to convince me to get up, it won’t work,” Scott calls back.

Gilnar’s head peeks over the railing a moment later. “Nope, not here for that. Just thought I’d check in, y’know?” The Sindarin words sound almost musical in their accent, rolling up and down with a unique sort of rhythm.

“Alright.”

“Are you okay, my lord?”

“No.” He’s done lying. “Leave me be.”

Gilnar shakes their head. “Sorry, my lord, can’t do that.”

“If you’re going to tell me my people need me, don’t waste your breath. I know .” Scott’s voice cracks on the last word, just a little.

“Not that either. But with all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.” They lean against the railing.

“What do you mean by that?”

They cough, a little awkwardly. “The soul-sickness. The fading.”

Scott’s mouth opens and closes, and he sputters. “How-”

“Trainin’ with the royal guard a few weeks back, your hands were freezin’ and your balance was off. You haven’t gotten up at a reasonable hour in weeks, and, well, with all due respect- I know what heartbreak looks like.”

He’s silent for a moment, utterly floored. “What do you mean by giving up?”

“Well, Lauriel and I were talkin’, and….your love’s still alive, isn’t he? The Codfather?”

“How did you-”

Gilnar flashes him a tiny grin. “He’s not subtle, and neither are you. Plus, he has Vilya.”

Deciding to shove that to the back of his mind for now, Scott sighs. “He’s a mortal, Gilnar. I’m not giving up anything that I won’t already lose in sixty years or so.”

“Luthien loved Beren, didn’t she?”

“I am not Luthien. I cannot sing so well that the gods grant me pardon.”

“And Idril loved Tuor.”

“I am not Idril. I cannot bring Jimmy to the Undying Lands.”

“Arwen still loved Aragorn.”

“I am not Arwen. I do not have the choice to give up my immortal life.”

Gilnar’s smile turns sad. “Caranthir still loved Haleth. And Celebrimbor loved Narvi just the same, didn’t he? The doomed love all the more fiercely, my lord.”

“The rest of the elves won’t be happy with me,” Scott points out.

“You think Thingol and Turgon and Elrond were happy when their daughters loved mortals? You think Luthien’s people didn’t scorn Beren at first?”

Scott doesn’t have any retort to that, and Gilnar hops up from their seat on the banister. “Well, I need to get back to my duties, my lord. Good luck with your swamp boy!”

They’re gone as soon as they arrive, and Scott stares up at the ceiling, his thoughts dragging him along a spiral of emotion.

“Coward! You’re a coward, Scott!”

Scott is a coward. He’s a liar and a coward. Nothing he does will ever be right.

“Don’t fall too deep in love, son.”

Scott did, though. Like the idiot he is, he fell in love with someone the universe didn’t want him to have.

“Caranthir still loved Haleth.”

He did. And he paid for it. Does it matter? Scott thinks that losing Jimmy might be a price worth paying for the joy of loving him.

“You cannot have embarrassed the elven realm at the largest event of the year-”

Scott didn’t mean to, but he still messed up and shouted at Jimmy. He’s a failure. Jimmy could do better. He deserves better.

“I don’t want a mortal. I want you .”

Jimmy’s so stupid. Stupid Codfather with his stupid bright eyes and stupid, stupid insistence on not giving up on someone he should never have loved to begin with. Scott loves him so much more than he could ever put into words.

“With all due respect, seems a little like you’re givin’ up on yourself just a bit, my lord.”

Jimmy deserves an apology. Scott won’t give up.

(Not on Jimmy, anyways.)

It takes him nearly a month of furious work to make the precious mithril bracelet, refining it over and over again. He picks the flowers and their meanings carefully- love, hope, protection- and the crystals too. Amethysts for protection, carefully traded for filled with any bit of magic he can spare for them. The lettering carved into the underside is yet another layer of blessings and meaning; he does it in Quenya, the Tengwar script, which Scott knows Jimmy can’t read. He has to look up how to write in it after so many years of never so much as looking at elven script, pouring over old books by candlelight. By day, he rules an empire, relying on the rush of adrenaline and motivation to carry him through even on the days when he’s swaying on his feet by the end. By night, he works on a courtship project like none he’s made before until at last, at nearly three in the morning one night, it’s finished.

It’s not the most beautiful it could have been. Scott isn’t one of the great Noldor smiths of old, he’s just an elf in love. His hands are perpetually shaky nowadays, and he has limited time to work on it between every other responsibility in his life. But every centimeter of it is handmade with all the care he could muster, and that has to count for something.

Scott hardly wants to wait to give it to Jimmy, but he forces himself to try and wait for morning. His anxiety doesn’t let him sleep much, exhausted as he is, but he curls up under the covers and stares at the bracelet on his nightstand. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off it, half-convinced it will vanish if he does. Eventually, his eyes slide shut of their own will, carrying him into an uneasy sleep.

He wakes up long after the sun's risen, staggering out of bed and throwing on a cloak for the journey to Jimmy’s. The cold that he’s been banishing with the warmth of a forge has returned tenfold, and he’s shivering despite elves normally being resistant to chills. When he takes a glance at himself in the mirror, he finds that his hair is out of place, there’s a streak of ink across his cheek, and the dark circles under his eyes look like bruises. He looks a mess, and he doesn’t care. Jimmy is all that matters now.

The journey’s both long and rough, and his landing in the swamp is more like a frantic swan dive out of the sky. Luckily, though, the ground is soft here, and Scott’s able to pick himself up and hurry for Jimmy’s house, ignoring the stares of a few Codland citizens. He knocks, heart in his throat as he waits for the door to open.

The hinges squeak, and suddenly Jimmy’s standing there, a mix of emotions that Scott doesn’t even want to try and comprehend scattered across his face. He looks a little sleepy despite the fact that it must be near noon, and so very sweet with his hair falling in his face. The sight of him knocks the air right out of Scott’s lungs, and he has to struggle to remember why he’s here again for a long moment as they stare at each other.

“Hi,” Scott says weakly.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy sounds outraged, and Scott can’t blame him.

Scott swallows hard. “I came to apologize.” His tired brain scrambles for words, something, anything to convey how truly sorry he is. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps.

“I know.” God, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much to hear the rage in Jimmy’s voice. “I- uh- fuck.” Scott fumbles to get the box he put the bracelet in, holding it out. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy’s silent for a long moment, examining the bracelet. Scott barely dares breathe as he turns it over and over in his hands, tracing the flower designs with his fingertips. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.” And, well, isn’t that just the story of his life?

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says. He sounds genuine.

Scott lets out a breath, letting some of the tension go. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts, and then pauses. What does he say? An apology would be a start, maybe. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.” It’s the truth, as wholly as he can bear to give it.

“Is it that- that dire?” Jimmy’s voice shakes a little, and Scott gives a tiny nod.

“This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

Jimmy goes quiet again. His eyes are still on the bracelet, and Scott can hardly breathe again.

Finally, he can’t take the tension. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am still yours-” he’s always been, really- “if you’ll have me.”

The silence that falls after that is even more stifling than the previous two. Scott doesn’t expect Jimmy to want him back- far from it. He’s putting his heart in Jimmy’s hands, but he doesn’t expect anything other than it shattering on the floor. Maybe Jimmy will be kind enough to let him down gently, but Scott’s fragile enough that it would only take a tiny nudge to break him. And yet he can’t stop the tiny bit of hope that blooms, though it dwindles minute by minute as Jimmy stares and stares. Finally, he opens his mouth to make his apologies again and leave to his frozen, icy empire-

And then there are hands in his hair and lips on his, warm and sudden and bold. Scott gives a little startled gasp, which is swallowed up by Jimmy’s kiss. Their noses knock together and Jimmy’s teeth click against his just a little in their haste, but Scott’s far too overwhelmed by the sudden rush of warmth to care.

When Jimmy finally pulls away, Scott’s left breathless, cheeks warm in a way no part of him has been since Jimmy died in 3rd life.

He barely pulls himself together enough to manage a wry little “So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?”

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

Jimmy sounds so startled and offended at the idea that he wouldn’t , Scott’s not sure whether to laugh or cry. “Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again in response, and who’s Scott to protest? No, he’s more than happy to let Jimmy pull him close and kiss away the lingering sorrow. When Jimmy pulls away this time, he’s left dizzy, half caught up in the euphoria of being loved, half terrified that this is only a cruel dream.

By the time Scott collects himself again, Jimmy’s holding out the bracelet to him. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott can only nod, fumbling with the clasp a little. It’s not complicated, but his hands aren’t steady, and it takes him a moment to get it. Jimmy grabs his hands when he lets go, and he’s so warm that Scott can’t muster the energy to even question why.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he can’t bear to let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk a lot, Jimmy more than Scott. Scott learns that Jimmy’s been picked on by other rulers (no surprise, but his blood still boils at the thought), and he shares minimal details about what he’s been up to. Jimmy doesn’t need to hear about Scott’s issues, he’s already dealing with enough.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says, though he has to force himself to. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please.” Jimmy sounds almost afraid, which instantly sets off alarm bells.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep,” Scott tells him, very patiently.

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

Now the alarm bells are really going off in Scott’s head. He knows when his husband is hiding something serious, and Jimmy’s frantic tone isn’t helping his worry. “No, no. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jimmy claims.

Scott frowns at him lightly. “ Jimmy .”

That’s all it takes. “I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts. He’s blushing a little. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

Oh, Jimmy . Scott holds up a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. “Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me. It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!” Jimmy’s voice pitches up with distress, and Scott’s heart aches for him.

“Alright,” he says, as gently as he can manage. “How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.” More like, Aeor can protect them. Scott’s useless, even with Vilya.

Jimmy nods and takes Scott’s hand with a tiny little “Thank you.”

“Always,” Scott murmurs. It comes out softer than he means it to, though it’s the truth. He’ll always do whatever he can to protect Jimmy, which is why he asks “Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just… give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Vilya is one of the most important parts of his heritage, actually, and his advisors would pitch a fit if they knew he had given it to a mortal. For once, he can’t bring himself to care what his advisors would think, though. Jimmy is important, more important than any piece of jewelry.

Jimmy follows Scott to Rivendell, and Scott can’t resist a proud smile when Jimmy praises the buildings. He takes Jimmy inside, lets him curl up under the warm covers, his head tucked against Scott’s chest, and it’s only once Jimmy’s asleep that Scott lets himself break. He’s so tired , so utterly exhausted from being brave for so long. Even now that his husband is curled up next to him, warm and solid and real, he can hardly believe that Jimmy actually wanted him back- wanted him at all, really. Scott doesn’t want to move for fear of waking up Jimmy, but luckily for him, he’s good at crying silently. That’s what he does, tears slipping down his face to wet the pillow below. Only the faintest whimper escapes his lips, a tiny broken noise that he’s embarrassed of even in this emotional state. And when another slips out, he buries his face in Jimmy’s hair and forces himself back into silence. He’s not going to cry over the best thing that’s ever happened to him, he isn’t , but he’s just so tired of being alone that being with someone else is almost painful in contrast; he’s so cold that the slightest touch of warmth feels burning.

Jimmy shifts in his sleep, mumbling something that sounds vaguely affectionate and pulling Scott closer, and Scott nearly chokes from the effort of restraining a sob. Gods, Jimmy . He could die like this, tucked in his husband’s arms, and he doesn’t think he’d regret it.

“I love you,” he whispers into the night. It comes out choked. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry, Jimmy, I’m so sorry.”

Jimmy mumbles something that sounds a lot like “I love you too”, and that’s what really breaks Scott. It’s a miracle Jimmy doesn’t wake up, really, with Scott’s quiet sobs shaking the mattress. He cries until he’s all out of tears, as silently as he can manage, and only then does he slip into a sound sleep.

[sj-thefan]

Under the Moonlight P.3 (Ahkmenrah x reader)

Hey there! So It’s been a while since I updated this series, aka over a year, so please forgive me. Thank you for reading, if you do! I really enjoy this story. I’m thinking there may be one or two parts after this.

The events of the 2nd movie (Battle of the Smithsonian) have been changed, i.e. Abraham Lincoln does not crash through the window at the end. Also, it’s never mentioned how Kahmunrah knows how to speak multiple languages, which bothers me, but I didn’t care enough to create a backstory.

Also, as a reminder, bolded text is spoken in Arabic.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist:

@megalony​

@beautiful-tragic-fallout

@zoemonster200​

@a--1--1--3​

@mp0625​

Larry would never freely give the combination to Kahmunrah. The self-proclaimed “Pharaoh” had trapped his friends, sent some of history’s worst bad guys after him, and was an all-around evil bastard. Larry knew he would have to make a deal with the Pharaoh to save his friends, but he wouldn’t give him anything until he knew his friends were safe.

They stood in the centre of the room, arguing over who should hand over their half of the deal first.

Kahmunrah gave Larry an ultimatum, “How about I don't kill you right now, like I really, really want to, and I give you precisely five seconds to give me that tablet and tell me the combination?”

Kahmunrah’s newfound army entered the room at that moment, interrupting the two arguing men. In Al Capone’s hand was a little Einstein bobblehead.

“We already got the combination,” Al Capone exclaimed. “It's pi. –3.14159265.” He flicked the little Einstein, shushing him. “See, Crazy Hair here, he sang. Ho-ho-ho, did he sing! Like a canary.” He held the bobblehead up to Larry like he was showing off a prize.

“I’m sorry, Larry,” the Einstein frowned.

Sensing Larry’s distraction, Kahmunrah jerked the tablet from his arms. He threw the hourglass containing Jed, over his shoulder. “Must be a real bummer for you, Larry, knowing that all of your valiant efforts were, in the end, for naught.” He placed the tablet into his gate, beginning to press in the combination. “What a terrible disappointment you must be to yourself.”

The tablet began to glow, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Kahmunrah smirked as a quiet humming, filled the room.

“Do you hear that humming sound? Do you know what that sound is?” Ivan the Great raised his hand. “It's rhetorical.” He slowly put his hand back down as his fellow soldiers leered at him. “That is the sound of the End.” Kahmunrah began chanting in Egyptian.

As he continued chanting, the gate began to open. It started with the carved sarcophagus coming out of the stone. Then the door turned, revealing the gateway to the underworld. It was bright, and many of the people in the room found themselves shielding their eyes. The Egyptian chanting grew louder as it echoed from the open door.

“Welcome to the new, extended reign of Kahmunrah, Fifth King of Egypt and now the world! Horus, Ra, my warriors, come forth!” Egyptian warriors with bird heads emerged from the gate. “Send Larry Daley and his friends to their doom!” They surrounded Larry, attacking him as commanded.

“Halt,” a voice rang through the room, catching everyone’s attention. “The mighty Octavius has returned! I ride on the back of nature's most fearsome creature! I ride the squirrel! Forward now, my mighty steed!” He urged the squirrel forward, rushing through the feet of the soldier until he stood in front of Kahmunrah. He lifted his sword. “Do you wish to surrender honourably? Or must this end with the spilling of your blood?”

Kahmunrah turned his attention back to Larry. “This… This is your big rescue?”

Another voice rang out, catching everyone’s attention again. “Kahmunrah!”

His face fell when he saw who had interrupted him. He clenched his jaw. “You,” he pointed to a group of his underworld soldiers before gesturing to the people who had just entered, “change of plans. Kill her.”

Y/n stood at the entrance of the room, surrounded by some Egyptian soldiers and the group of New York Exhibits. Amelia Earhart had also arrived with several of the Smithsonian exhibits she and Larry had encountered that day.

Kahmunrah’s underworld soldiers approached the group, their spears aimed at Y/n.

“Stop,” she shouted, and the bird soldiers paused in shock. “I am Y/n, wife of Ahkmenrah, and Kahmunrah is no rightful king.” The birds turned to look at Kahmunrah, and everyone else, although they didn’t understand what was being said, followed their eye line. “He’s a cheat. He killed his brother, the chosen heir to the throne, just before he was to become Pharaoh. My husband, the rightful king, and my child, the future heir, are dead because of him. He is a traitor to Egypt. I ask you now, will you follow me—the once future queen of Egypt—or will you follow the traitor.”

The soldiers looked between the two Egyptian rulers. What she said had truth to it. Kahmunrah, although claiming to be the king of Egypt, had no Egyptian soldiers following him. Y/n had several Egyptian followers. After a minute of deliberation, they all came to the same conclusion. They turned their weapons to Kahmunrah.

Y/n smirked as Kahmunrah’s face morphed into fear. Larry slowly exited the circle that surrounded him and joined his friends.

Y/n stepped forward until she was face to face with Kahmunrah. “You should have known we’d never leave the tablet alone.”

“I was foolishly optimistic.”

Y/n turned to the underworld soldiers. “Your rest should never have been interrupted. Thank you for your service to the crown. You may return to the afterworld, but take this traitor with you.”

“You can’t do this, Y/n,” Kahmunrah snarled as he felt the soldiers grip his arm and pull him towards the gate. “I am a king.”

“You are a traitor, and you’ll find that although Egypt’s soldiers will never harm royalty, traitors are free game.” Y/n watched as the soldiers began dragging him to the gate and disappearing into the underworld. “They’ll do as they’re told.”

When the gate door finally closed, she grabbed the tablet and tucked it under her arm. She turned to the men that had been following Kahmunrah. In perfect English, she said, “Kahmunrah was a traitor to his own people. I suggest next time you chose a leader with more wisdom.” She smiled. “Now, I hope you will all return to whence you came in an orderly manner. I would hate to disturb the underworld a second time; they might be angry.”

The men looked at each other before quickly leaving the room.

The room was silent. Y/n looked around the room, accessing the damage her brother-by-marriage had done to the beautiful space.

Larry was in shock. He was glad she had shown up, but he had no idea who she was or what she wanted. For all he knew, she could be worse than Kahmunrah. He had heard Ahkmenrah’s name come up in the conversation between the Egyptians, but he had no idea what the context was.

The Egyptian soldiers that stood in front of the New York group went to the woman as she called them. Larry took the opportunity to talk with his friends without possibly causing them more harm by disrespecting any of the Egyptians.

“What just happened?” His eyes stayed focused on the group across the way as the woman gave them instructions, pointing to different places in the room.

“That there is Queen Y/n,” Amelia stated. “Quite the powerful lady, I’m not sure we’d have won this without her.”

“Why’d she help us?” Jedediah asked as he climbed out of the hourglass.

Y/n finished instructing her soldiers and made her way towards the group.

“She’s Ahkmenrah’s wife,” Sacagewea whispered.

Several of the exhibits bowed their head when Y/n came to stand in front of them.

“There’s no need for that,” Y/n dismissed. She smiled as she turned her attention to Larry. “Thank you for trying to keep this safe.” She gestures to the tablet in her arms.

“It was no problem, your highness.”

“Please, my name is Y/n.” Larry smiled an apology. “I must ask, though, it seems as if you have experience with the tablet. How have you come to possess it?”

Larry shrugged. “I’ve never really possessed it. It belongs to Ahkmenrah; I’ve just been trying to help protect it.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Ahkmenrah?” She quickly scanned the crowd. “Is he here?”

“He’s in New York,” Jedediah said.

“I see,” Y/n said, her face falling slightly. “Then we must go there immediately.”

Larry frowned. It would be costly enough to pay for all the exhibits to return to New York. He didn’t know how much it would cost to add a mummy onto it. He thought back to his journey through the museum. He hadn’t spotted her all night. In fact, all the Egyptian exhibits that he had encountered were in the basement. Perhaps, the Smithsonian wouldn’t notice if a single mummy went missing.

They’d have to move quickly; the sun would be coming up in just a few hours. In less than ten minutes, Larry had guided all the exhibits into a plane, and they were headed back to New York.

Previous Part |

[ibijau]

Losing their memory only to have it come back after a much awaited true love’s kiss Nie Huaisang & Lan Xichen please. Lan Xichen loses his memory (maybe on a night hunt?) And even though him and Nie Huaisang have been together for over a year they haven't told anyone else yet so Nie Huaisang tries to wait for him to remember on his own but when he doesn't Nie Huaisang eventually breaks down and ends up kissing him. (Either completely alone or in front of a huge crowd) again I don't mind changes

also on AO3

this got a bit out of hand and is nearly 6K, oops?

Lan Xichen turns toward Nie Huaisang, and smiles politely.

“And you are?”

Nie Huaisang nearly drops his fan. More than the question, it is the tone of theother man’s voice that shocks him. It is the polite but slightly distant tone that Lan Xichen uses when talking to sect leaders or people who have come to beg for Gusu Lan’s help. Nie Huaisang has only once before been on the receiving end of that tone, the first time he came to visit Lan Xichen after the events in that temple. 

It was a slap back then to be treated so coldly. 

It is even more so now, with the new balance they’ve tentatively started to reach.

Nie Huaisang is too stunned to answer, but the juniors around Lan Xichen seem unsurprised by this. They trade a few worried glances, then the most confident Lan junior grabs Lan Xichen’s sleeve and smiles up at him.

“Lan zongzhu, that’s Nie zongzhu,” he explains. “He’s the one who came with the Nie juniors to help supervise the Night Hunt. You really don’t remember that either?”

“Not right now,” Lan Xichen amicably admits. “But I’m sure it will come back to me very soon. I’m sorry if that was rude, Nie zongzhu,” he adds, turning his attention back to Nie Huaisang and bowing slightly. “I seem to have suffered through a slight mishap and cannot remember a number of things. Please be patient with me if I behave inappropriately.”

Behind Lan Xichen, a few of the Nie juniors grimace. Even the Lan kids look uncomfortable. None of them know how close the two adults with them are, but they’ve seen their friendly banter earlier in the day, miles away from this reserved manner of address. Lan Xichen has never called Nie Huaisang ‘Nie zongzhu’ outside of discussion conferences. It feels wrong, so wrong that Nie Huaisang almost feels dizzy.

He keeps himself calm though. The children are already very distressed, and Lan Xichen is obviously not in a state to deal with anything, so Nie Huaisang has to take charge until someone more competent comes along.

“What happened?” he asks the Lan junior who spoke earlier. “Did he get hurt?”

A wound to the head could explain temporary difficulties, but Lan Xichen doesn’t look unwell. Indeed, the Lan junior only briefly hesitates before shaking his head.

“We’d spotted the demon,” the boy explains, glancing up at his sect leader. “Lan zongzhu thought there was something strange about it, so he asked us to stay back while he got a better look. But the demon spotted him and did something, and now he’s like that and doesn’t remember anything.”

Nie Huaisang nods along. So does Lan Xichen.

“If that’s so, I’m glad I went ahead,” he says. “A demon? How frightful. I’m glad none of you children were harmed.”

In spite of his growing anxiety, Nie Huaisang can’t help a weak smile upon hearing this. Even like this, Lan Xichen is still the same person, and Nie Huaisang is impossibly fond of him. It must be terrifying to not know who anyone is or what’s going on, and yet Lan Xichen is so fundamentally kind that he’s still more worried about the children than his own state.

“Indeed, we were lucky,” Nie Huaisang agrees, opening his fan to hide that smile he can’t contain. “From the way villagers described it, I wouldn’t have expected that demon to be strong enough to harm Zewu-Jun. That’s you,” he adds, catching Lan Xichen’s confused gaze. “Your courtesy name is Lan Xichen, you are sect leader of Gusu Lan, and your title is Zewu-Jun.”

“It’s pretty,” Lan Xichen muses. “What is your title, Nie zongzhu?”

Nobody says anything, but Nie Huaisang can still hear the juniors of both thinking ‘Headshaker’. He doesn’t get called that too much these days, but he doubts that it will ever fully leave him. Usually he doesn’t mind, but somehow it’d be embarrassing for this more innocent version of Lan Xichen to know anything about Nie Huaisang’s tricks.

“I don’t have a title,” he announces, before turning again to the children. “Do you have everyone from your group? Did you count yourself after the demon escaped? No one missing or added?”

“No, Nie zongzhu,” a different Lan boy answers. “We’re the same number as before. Nie zongzhu, can you cure Lan zongzhu?”

However touched he is that anyone would have that sort of faith in him, Nie Huaisang grimaces.

“No, probably not. Let’s go back to the inn for now, and from there I’ll send a distress signal to warn Hanguang-Jun.”

“Hanguang-Jun?” Lan Xichen curiously repeats. “A friend of mine?”

Before Nie Huaisang can answer, the Lan juniors all start correcting their sect leader, eager to explain who Lan Wangji is. Even some of the Nie children join in, such is the fame of the great Hanguang-Jun. All Nie Huaisang can do is herd everyone toward the village where they’re staying, and make sure that nothing too outrageously untrue is said. 

He notices that while the children don’t hesitate to speak about Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen’s claims to fame from the Sunshot campaign and after, they are careful not to say anything about more recent events. The oldest among them can’t be much more than thirteen, but they already have enough good sense to guess that speaking of Jin Guangyao would only hurt Lan Xichen. Nie Huaisang feels proud of them, though he knows he has no reason. He’s not the one who raised them, and even his own disciples have not felt his influence much.

Perhaps more than pride, it is gratefulness that he feels. Or else, it might be admiration. Such is the effect that Lan Xichen has on people: it is impossible to know him and not care for him.

With the children chatting and Lan Xichen listening, they make it safely to the inn. That’s where Lan Wangji and the inevitable Wei Wuxian find them after a few hours. 

Things, after that, go very fast. Lan Wangji checks on his brother while Wei Wuxian interrogates the juniors to learn more about the demon. Nie Huaisang stands to the side, knowing he won’t be of any help. He pays their bill, and announces to the village chief that they won’t be able to eliminate the demon just yet, but will make sure the situation isn’t allowed to degenerate.

It is a bit of a surprise when Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian say that they have no idea how to get Lan Xichen back to normal, but it isn’t a huge shock either. Nie Huaisang is starting to suspect the demon might have been extremely powerful, but merely of mischievous temper rather than outright evil and thus only caused small problems for local people. It is a little worrying that Lan Xichen might have been cursed, but the Lan elders are wise people and they will set him right in a matter of days.

So while Lan Wangji takes his brother home, followed by his husband and the Lan juniors, Nie Huaisang gathers his own little disciples and prepares to do the same without having exchanged another word with Lan Xichen. It doesn’t bother him too much.

He knows he’ll soon hear from Lan Xichen, and together they'll laugh about this misadventure.

-

As days turn into weeks, Nie Huaisang tries not to worry about the lack of news coming from the Cloud Recesses. If things weren’t going well, he would have heard about it. Gusu Lan might have a rule against gossip, but servants and guest disciples still like to chat. Just as Nie Huaisang was among the first to hear when Lan Xichen entered seclusion after the death of Jin Guangyao, he’s sure he would know if his curse had proved impossible to lift.

Lan Xichen must be fine.

Which means, also, that his silence must be a deliberate choice. That for whatever reason, he cannot find time to spare to tell his lover that he is feeling better, nor to schedule when they might try to meet again. Lan Xichen is a busy man, and ruling Gusu Lan is a more involved job than ruling Qinghe Nie, so Nie Huaisang has been warned from the start that if they chose to change the nature of their friendship, there would be long periods where they wouldn’t meet.

Nie Huaisang, refusing to appear possessive or clingy, decides not to ask for news when none is given. He has distracted Lan Xichen from his responsibilities too often when he was playing the fool, he cannot continue doing so now that he is no longer hiding.

Weeks continue passing, and still not a word from the Cloud Recesses, except an official letter reminding Nie Huaisang that he is invited to a discussion conference set there. The letter bears Lan Xichen’s seal, further proving that he is fine and simply too busy to fool around. Or perhaps that incident with the demon, and how useless Nie Huaisang was in the aftermath, has reminded Lan Xichen that aside from plotting murder and painting, his lover isn’t good for much.

The advantage of a secret relationship, Nie Huaisang realises one day, is that there’s no need for a public break-up. Lan Xichen only has to stop contacting him, and things are over.

He realises, also, that it was Lan Xichen who insisted on keeping things secret as they figured out if this could work. He had said that Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji might have objections otherwise, which seemed like a wise consideration at the time, but now Nie Huaisang can only wonder…

If this was Lan Xichen taking revenge for being left in the dark about Jin Guangyao’s true nature, then he played his cards well. Nie Huaisang never saw it coming, though perhaps he should have.

Even for a man as kind as Lan Xichen, some things must be too much to forgive.

-

When the time for that discussion conference comes, Nie Huaisang considers not going. There’s never much there that interests him in those conferences, and he doesn’t quite feel ready to face Lan Xichen yet after what he is now convinced was a silent break-up. He also refuses to give anyone the satisfaction of having wounded him, though, and that means he has to go to Gusu and act unaffected.

Not so long ago, it would have been odd to arrive at the gates of the Cloud Recesses and not be greeted in person by Lan Xichen. Usually whoever is guarding the entrance has instructions to go warn their sect leader that his old friend has arrived, allowing Lan Xichen to lead Nie Huaisang inside even though he was given a jade token long ago, back after his brother’s death. 

This time, Nie Huaisang gets to use that token at last, because he is told to go in alone since Lan Xichen isn’t free to come at the moment. He supposes he should feel grateful that the token hasn’t been deactivated. Maybe Lan Xichen feared there would be a scandal. Maybe he doesn’t care enough to remember that Nie Huaisang even has that token.

Either way, Lan Xichen isn’t there, and ultimately it is Lan Wangji who comes to meet him and leads him to the guest quarters. Nie Huaisang figures it’s better than if it had been Lan Qiren, who still scares him a little from his time as a student.

At dinner that evening, Lan Xichen is absent. Nie Huaisang doesn’t ask any questions, but someone else does, only to be told that Lan Xichen has to deal with some urgent situation and likely won’t be present during the entire discussion conference. There’s some whispers about that, unsurprisingly, but no one is alarmed and Nie Huaisang least of all. With Gusu Lan’s reputation, they tend to be asked to help with very delicate cases that require great expertise. It is not so extraordinary for Lan cultivators to have to drop previous engagements to go help those in need.

Nie Huaisang may or may not be relieved that he won’t have to face his former lover just yet. Either way, he is careful not to show any emotion, especially once he notices that Wei Wuxian keeps glancing his way.

He will not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing his heartbreak.

Come morning, the discussion conference starts as it normally would. Lan Xichen’s absence is hardly felt at all. Lan Qiren is more than competent to represent Gusu Lan, having done so for many years. If Nie Huaisang’s eyes accidentally start looking for Lan Xichen every time someone says something particularly stupid… well, it’s unlikely anyone will notice. His reputation has improved, but Qinghe Nie is still not quite back to being a Great Sect again, nor is it likely to happen in his lifetime, so nobody really pays attention to him. Nobody except Lan Xichen, and…

Well, not even that anymore.

Which is fine.

Nie Huaisang has managed to be on his own for ten years, he doesn’t mind going back to that. The only regret he allows himself is that time passes so slowly in those damn conferences when he has nothing to look forward to. Inane chatter is so much worse without the promise of stolen tenderness later on.

But instead of being able to run to his lover’s arms

, when the discussion ends for the day, Nie Huaisang finds Wei Wuxian waiting for him at the door of the hall.

“Nie-xiong, let’s have a chat,” Wei Wuxian demands, grabbing him by the arm and kidnapping him so he cannot join others to dinner.

“I’m kind of hungry,” Nie Huaisang complains. “Can it wait?”

Wei Wuxian grins, and takes a small box from his sleeve, holding out for Nie Huaisang to remove the lid.

Nie Huaisang starts salivating the instant the smell hits his nose.

“Dumplings from that place you used to like,” Wei Wuxian announces. “It’s still the same man making them. So, can we have a chat, or would you rather have a proper Lan dinner with everyone?”

“Wei-xiong, you are the worst and I hate you,” Nie Huaisang grumbles, staring at the dumplings. “Fine, I’ll listen to you.”

Wei Wuxian grins and continues pulling him away from everyone. Lan Qiren, who leaves the hall last, notices them going away and glares at them but doesn't actually say anything. 

"I see the in-laws are liking you a little better these days," Nie Huaisang remarks, carefully grasping one dumpling. He would have preferred not eating with his hands, but he can make sacrifices for the sake of a good meal. "Not long ago, Lan Qiren would have gone mad, seeing you disturb his conference like this."

"I didn't disturb anything, you lot were done for the day," Wei Wuxian objects, letting go of Nie Huaisang’s arm. He too grabs a dumpling, and inelegantly shoves it in his mouth. "And he's glad I'm helping with Lan Xichen," he adds, spitting food. "It's a difficult situation." 

Nie Huaisang knows he's being baited. He truly knows it. 

"What about Lan Xichen?" he still asks, unable to stop himself. 

"Nie-xiong, don't you remember that curse he was hit with? We're still trying to lift it." 

Nie Huaisang stops in his tracks and stares at Wei Wuxian. 

"What do you mean you're still trying to… It's been months! What could take you so long? Aren't you supposed to be a cultivation genius? Isn't Gusu Lan a well of wisdom?" 

Wei Wuxian shrugs, and gobbles another dumpling. 

"So you really didn't know, eh?" 

"How was I supposed to know? No one saw fit to inform me of this situation. Excuse me for having too much faith in your competence, Wei-xiong." 

"Didn't it strike you as odd that Lan Xichen stopped contacting you after that incident?" Wei Wuxian retorts. "I know the two of you had become close again lately. Some friend you are, letting this much time pass without news." 

Nie Huaisang's face burns at those words, and he quickly opens his fan to hide behind. It shouldn't surprise him that Wei Wuxian guessed what was going one between him and Lan Xichen.

"Yes, yes, we both know I'm a terrible friend, especially to Zewu-Jun," he grumbles. "I just assumed he was busy. Not everybody can ditch their responsibility whenever they please to go Night Hunting like you do, Wei-xiong." Nie Huaisang pauses, and sighs. "Is it really serious? Is he in any danger?" 

Can I help? he wants to ask, though the very idea is so ridiculous it isn't even worth saying out loud. If all of Gusu Lan and Wei Wuxian have failed to bring Lan Xichen back to normal, Nie Huaisang won't be of any use. 

"It's more inconvenient than anything," Wei Wuxian says, lifting a weight from Nie Huaisang's shoulders. "Aside from the memory loss, he doesn't suffer at all. His cultivation is still the same. He hasn't even forgotten everything either. He recalls everything to do with cultivation or the arts quite well, he can still fight without problem… But anything personal is just gone."

"Oh. Well, then it might be more of a blessing than a curse," Nie Huaisang remarks. "Or have you told him…" 

Wei Wuxian quickly shakes his head, nibbling on another dumpling. Nie Huaisang steals another one and does the same, refusing to watch his dinner be eaten under his nose like this. 

"We only told him basic things, to see if it would help his memory. He knows he has an uncle, a brother, that I'm married to Wangji… But since that didn't really help, we figured it was better not to say too much. Lan Qiren decided it would just have distressed him."

Nie Huaisang nods. He still remembers the way Lan Xichen looked that night, at that temple, after everything had come to light. To inflict that upon him a second time would have been too cruel. 

"Truly a blessing then," Nie Huaisang muses. "Maybe it's for the best and we should let him be."

"Nie-xiong, you really are too dramatic," Wei Wuxian complains. "We've told him that his past has painful things in it, but he still wants to remember. And you should know, he's been asking about you." 

Hearing this startles Nie Huaisang who gapes at Wei Wuxian. 

"Didn't… Didn't you say he doesn't remember anything? Wei-xiong, make up your mind about this. I swear if you're lying…" 

"Not lying," Wei Wuxian retorts, biting into the last dumpling. "He can't remember anything from before that Night Hunt, but apparently you make a strong impression on him that day. He frequently asks about the 'handsome young man' and has said a few times he wants to thank you for helping and keeping the children calm that day."

"He's just being polite," Nie Huaisang grumbles, his cheeks heating up upon hearing that even without memory of their acquaintance, Lan Xichen still finds him handsome. His looks aren’t too bad, but he doesn’t quite compare to some other cultivators. "I suppose some things don't change."

Wei Wuxian shrugs, and puts away the now empty box.

“So, Nie-xiong, are you coming with me so see Zewu-Jun? We told him you’d be here, he’s very impatient to ‘meet’ you at last.”

“No,” Nie Huaisang says.

“No?”

“No.”

“And why not?” Wei Wuxian asks, his expression quickly losing its warmth. “Aren’t you two quite close lately?”

Nie Huaisang hides behind his fan, and looks away.

“Wei-xiong, me coming to see Zewu-Jun can only have two effects,” he says, and raises a finger. “One, it does nothing to help his memory, he realises that aside from my face I don’t have much to interest him, and he’ll be embarrassed for even asking about me. I’m not stupid, without shared experiences, there’s little to draw him to me. It will just be awkward for both of us. Or else...” He raises a second finger. “Two, seeing me unlocks his memory. And wouldn’t that be cruel? He has a chance to live free from the burden of what happened, I would not take that from him.”

“Nie-xiong, you’re still a coward after all,” Wei Wuxian remarks.

“Think what you will,” Nie Huaisang retorts. “I’ve had to hurt him once like this. I can’t do it again. Could you, if it was Lan Wangji?”

“I know Lan Zhan would want to remember. Without the bad, we wouldn’t have the good either. Zewu-Jun said he wants to remember too, and he said he wants to see you. Isn’t that more important than your guilt, Nie-xiong?”

Nie Huaisang grits his teeth. There’s no reasoning with Wei Wuxian when he’s convinced to be right, and for someone who was so blind for so long, Wei Wuxian certainly thinks himself an expert about romance.

Lucky him, if what he has with Lan Wangji is worth all the pain, all the suffering. Nie Huaisang, given the choice, would rather not have gone through all of that. Even if it meant never getting the chance to be with Lan Xichen, who surely would have picked someone else if life hadn’t pushed them together. And whatever Lan Xichen says now, when he doesn’t know what darkness lurks in his past, Nie Huaisang is convinced he will regret it if his memories return to him.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t mind making that choice for him.

It won’t be the first time.

Besides, he’s already mourned the romance that had only just started between him and Lan Xichen. He is quite fine with having lost this, even if it isn’t in the way he imagined.

It’s fine.

Everything is fine, and this is for the best.

“I’ve made my choice, Wei-xiong,” Nie Huaisang announces with all the confidence he can fake. “Please tell Zewu-Jun I cannot meet him. Even if he’s upset at first, I’m sure he’ll get over it quite easily.”

“Nie-xiong!”

Ignoring his old friend, Nie Huaisang turns around and starts walking back toward the heart of the Cloud Recesses.

If he feels a cold, gnawing sensation in his chest and stomach, he’ll blame it on hunger. After all, Wei Wuxian very rudely ate over half his dinner.

-

Due to a mistake, the disciples Nie Huaisang brought with him to the conference have been given their own separate room rather than to stay in the same guest quarters as him, as would be more usual. Or, well, it might be unkind to call this a mistake. It is an arrangement that became needed after things changed between him and Lan Xichen, so they could more easily have time alone. Nie Huaisang can’t remember what excuse they gave to justify the need for this, but apparently whoever is in charge of organising things for the guests wasn’t told that this isn’t needed anymore.

A shame, because Nie Huaisang isn’t particularly in the mood to be alone. Or at least, not in the mood to be alone in the damn Cloud Recesses, where he has no way of getting his hands on alcohol except through Wei Wuxian and… well, it’s not really an option. Nie Huaisang will have to face his renewed heartbreak sober, which isn’t something anyone should have to go through, he thinks.

Just as Nie Huaisang starts wondering if he should just go to sleep and try to forget this unfortunate situation, there’s a knock on his door.

It is odd for anyone to come see him. His disciples know they can’t wander around so close to curfew unless there’s an emergency, in which case they wouldn’t knock. Wei Wuxian is angry at him, and will probably remain so for a few days to a few weeks, until he forgets they had an argument. King of Grudges Lan Wangji has done his best to pretend Nie Huaisang doesn’t exist, just as he does with Jiang Cheng. Nie Huaisang can’t think of anyone who might come see him.

There’s another knock on the door, the rhythm of it familiar, yet also not. After some hesitation, Nie Huaisang decides to go check, though he carefully keeps one hand on the handle of the dagger he took to carrying everywhere since launching in motion his revenge plan.

Nie Huaisang opens the door.

And then very nearly closes it again when he sees who his visitor is.

“I’m sorry for coming so late,” Lan Xichen says with a polite smile. “And I understand that you told Wei Wuxian that you had no desire to speak to me, but I really must have answers for some of my questions.”

Nie Huaisang does some quick math. He could still try to close the door. Either Lan Xichen would accept his rejection and things would end for good, or he will force the door open and Nie Huaisang simply isn’t strong enough to stop that. He knows what Lan Xichen would normally do, but he has no idea how different this version of Lan Xichen is. Nie Huaisang would rather not risk antagonising him, not now that they aren’t even friends anymore, and not when he knows better than most how terrifying Lan Xichen could be, if he just bothered.

With a sigh, Nie Huaisang gestures for Lan Xichen to come in.

“I have little to tell you that your brother and his husband couldn’t say better than me,” Nie Huaisang meekly states, his heart clenching at the sight of Lan Xichen in this room, too much like other times and yet so different. “But I’ll try to be of use, of course.”

“I’ve tried asking them first,” Lan Xichen reveals as he steps inside, letting Nie Huaisang close the door behind him. “But they’ve admitted that they didn’t know the answer to some of my questions, and they were reluctant to share speculation with me.”

Nie Huaisang hides a grimace behind his fan. He supposes he should be grateful that Wei Wuxian and his husband have acquired such a distaste for gossip, but sometimes it’s really annoying.

“If they don’t know, I doubt I’ll know much more, Zewu-Jun.”

“And I think you do,” Lan Xichen softly insists. “I have done my own share of speculation. I have found some letters, some paintings, a few gifts, and so I must ask… Nie zongzhu, am I right in thinking we were not only friends?”

The hopefulness in Lan Xichen’s face, in his voice, are so unbearable that Nie Huaisang has to look away.

Of course Lan Xichen would have figured that out. However much they tried to hid in public, in private they were quite open about the way they felt, all the more so because they never had the chance to meet quite as often as they would have liked. Nie Huaisang’s letters were hardly restrained, though still more so than some of the ones Lan Xichen sent him. The content of those would have left no doubt possible as to the nature of their relationship.

“Zewu-Jun, I’m not sure this really matters,” Nie Huaisang says, avoiding the question. “Since you have no memory of anything, no matter what our links were in the past, it would be unfair of me to demand for them to be maintained. I will not make demands of you, don’t worry.”

“I would not mind if you did,” Lan Xichen protests, stepping closer. “All these weeks, I’ve been thinking of you a lot. Everyone else acted so worried, but you were the one person who kept his calm, you took care of the children, you made sure the innkeeper was paid, you even made sure to update the people who had called for our help on the state of their problem… I was so impressed by how level-headed you were, and that’s why I started asking questions about who we were to each other.”

Blood rushes to Nie Huaisang’s face upon hearing his behaviour that day being praised. To him, what happened back then is a bit of a blur because he was so worried for Lan Xichen, so he doesn’t really remember what he did at all. Surely he can’t have handled it that well, it must just be that Lan Xichen is too kind, as always.

“Zewu-Jun, things between us… I won’t deny that they were a certain way,” Nie Huaisang admits, gripping his fan a little harder. “And I am very touched if I made a good impression on you that time. But things between us… you have to understand, even if things were good, it had come at a heavy price. I have done many things that you did not approve of. Things I am not sorry about, because in the end, I got what I wanted, and I’m the sort of person for whom that’s what matters. To put it bluntly, I’m not a very good person, and I have no intention on improving myself.”

“I don’t think you’re quite so bad,” Lan Xichen retorts with amusement. “I have read the letters you sent me. You seem like a very soft and sentimental person, Nie zongzhu, and I think I like that.”

Nie Huaisang sighs, and shakes his head.

Suddenly, he misses Lan Xichen.

The real Lan Xichen, the one who knew his tenderness and softness didn’t mean he wasn’t also capable of horrors. The one who loved him in spite of it… perhaps even for it, at times. And the reverse was true as well. Although he'd always had a bit of a crush on Lan Xichen, it wasn't until everything was exposed, until they'd both known the best of the worst of each other, that Nie Huaisang had really fallen in love. 

He can't wish for this ignorant Lan Xichen to suffer what the original one had suffered, he isn't that unkind.

But he also can't love someone who doesn't have the life experience to understand why he is the way he is. 

"Zewu-Jun, I'm really not the way you think," Nie Huaisang states, as coldly as he can manage. "If you remember someday, then I'll be happy to resume what we had, should you wish it. Until then… for your own good, it's better to go our separate ways. I don't have anything to give you, not as you are now. And I love you too much to wish you the pain of remembering your past."

"So instead, you cause me the pain of being rejected," Lan Xichen bitterly remarks, walking closer, close enough to touch, if Nie Huaisang wanted. He wants to. He still doesn't move. "Can I do anything to change your mind?" 

"Zewu-Jun…" 

"Please understand it is very unpleasant to hear you say that you love me at the same time you’re pushing me away. If you gave me a chance…”

Nie Huaisang laughs behind his fan.

“Trust me, it’s better for you. Just walk away and forget about me.”

“Nie zongzhu, give me a chance,” Lan Xichen pleads, looking so heartbroken that Nie Huaisang has to avert his eyes.

“It’s better that way.”

It is.

It has to be.

It isn’t like things could have lasted anyway. They both have a duty to their sects, to their families. It really is better this way.

“Then at least… would you kiss me, Nie zongzhu?” Lan Xichen asks.

“Zewu-Jun, that’s not…”

“Give me this at least, if you won’t give me anything else. If we were happy once, don’t I deserve a last goodbye?”

That would be a terrible idea. Nie Huaisang knows himself. If he gets that small taste of what he used to have with Lan Xichen, he’ll be tempted to actually take that risk, and then when it fails, when this too innocent Lan Xichen realises what he’s capable of and starts hating him for it, Nie Huaisang will know it was his fault for being weak, for not making this end cleanly.

It would be stupid to kiss Lan Xichen.

But it’s been months, and the day has been so long, and Nie Huaisang is too tired to continue making the right decisions.

“Just one kiss,” he sighs, closing his fan.

In an instant, he finds himself pulled into Lan Xichen’s embrace, soft lips pressing against his own with a clumsiness that he once found endearing, when it all started. Lan Xichen was so inexperienced when they got together, though he learned fast. To be kissed against with that unskilled enthusiasm is a bitter reminder that this man isn’t quite his Xichen.

Even knowing this, Nie Huaisang returns the kiss with a touch of desperation, his arms around Lan Xichen’s neck, keeping him close while he can have him.

After a while, Lan Xichen’s mouth pulls away. Nie Huaisang, who had closed his eyes at some point, opens them again and finds his lover staring down at him with an air of shock, panting harder than the kiss truly justifies.

Before Nie Huaisang can say anything, Lan Xichen breaks into a smile and kisses him again.

This kiss is different.

This time, Lan Xichen isn’t so clumsy anymore, he knows how to lick into Nie Huaisang’s mouth, how to bite and suck on his lips just right, leaving the other man breathless. His hands are no longer just on Nie Huaisang’s hips either, they move to pet his hair, to grope his ass, his thighs, to pull him closer until there’s no space between their bodies, pushing him against the door until Nie Huaisang is trapped in the most perfect of ways.

When that kiss ends, Nie Huaisang too is breathless, and his legs feel so weak that if he weren’t clinging to Lan Xichen so tightly, he’d fall to his knees for sure.

“You ridiculous man,” Lan Xichen breathes against his lips. “You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

Nie Huaisang’s grip tightens. The other man’s voice seems different suddenly. Warmer. If it weren’t foolish to hope…

“Even after all this, you really can’t believe I’d trust you?” Lan Xichen accuses, sounding too amused, too fond. “We’re going to have to work on this, A-Sang. I really thought you’d learned not to try to handle everything alone.”

“Xichen,” Nie Huaisang gasps, half fearful that he’s misunderstanding. “A-Chen, are you…”

“I’m back,” Lan Xichen confirms, rubbing their nose together before stealing a brief kiss. “And I’m not letting you go, you silly man, even if I’m a little cross you’re still so convinced you don’t have my full trust. You’re really…”

“No, don’t scold me,” Nie Huaisang mumbles, suddenly a little embarrassed by how dramatic he’s been, even if he still thinks he wasn’t wrong. “You can scold me later. For now, just kiss me again. I’ve missed it, and I’ve missed you, so kiss me, A-Chen.”

Lan Xichen grins, and promptly obeys.

Nie Huaisang pulls him closer. He loves this man, loves him so much, and he’s so glad to have him back at last.

[doodledrawsthings]

Her Aim Was Getting Better

(Ahit ““““““Coffee Shop AU”““““““ rp log)

This is part of an RP between @displacedentities and myself detailing the meet-up between Luka and Vanessa, when she spikes his coffee with the curse. We did this a while back to get a feel for the characters and how that scene would go down, and they nailed it with how they wrote Vanessa. So I asked them if I could post it. Some of the stuff here was written before we had other things established, so some things like Hatties’s age and how long ago they split might be inconsistent with other posts I’ve made, but Enjoy!

(also forgive me for the way i write my parts, I’m not as practiced at writing rip)

(MysticDoodles) Despite the warm paper cup in her hands, Vanessa couldn't deny the chill in her bones. It had yet to go away since that day in court, biting at her skin and hovering just at the base of her brain stem. It always seemed to grow colder whenever she thought about how she got here... the things she'd said. What she almost did to that poor briefcase jockey in the courthouse.

But it didn't matter, anymore. If anything, her mom was happy she lost that case. Losing her husband and... child had stripped away all excuses she had not to throw herself into her work, and her mother was happy. 

Vanessa was not happy. 

In fact, she was seething. 

Luka took everything from her, that day. Her love, her place in their home. His adorable smile, his laugh... they weren't hers anymore. He only gave them to that- little gremlin. The parasite that took his love away from her, her precious nickname given to their daughter. 

Nobody got to be Luka's princess except Vanessa herself. Never again.

She lost the custody battle and her efforts to take Luka's obsession away from him, but she was going to make sure he lost so much more.

Vanessa waited in the autumn breeze, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the coffee cup. Chestnut-infused Columbian. His favorite. A sister cup sat opposite the table, waiting for him. If he was brave enough to show his face. .

(DeusExMakena)  He could see her from his car as he pulled into the parking space, sitting at a table by the large window at the front of the coffee shop. How long had it been now? Around five years, right? Hattie was barely a year old when they split.

He used to get so excited about meeting her, being in her presence, making her smile... and now the very thought of just getting out of his car and making eye contact with her left a pit in his stomach. As much as he'd loved this woman in the past, the way she treated their newborn daughter.... he had to stop thinking about it. Starting this meeting out in an angry mood wouldn't be a good idea.

With a sigh he finally willed himself to leave the vehicle, and just as he looked up their eyes met. The pit in his stomach deepened as he walked up to the cafe doors.

(MysticDoodles) The ice crept up her neck again. Vanessa forced it down, and put up a smile. No reason to start this off as cold as the ice in her veins. 

 Luka can see from her attire that she's doing rather well- financially, anyway. A thick coat against the autumn chill- or maybe from her heart, so closed off- and a scarf stuffed into her bookbag. Her mother must have improved her stipend, now that they split. What a beastly woman. It's pointless to ponder what-ifs at this point, but maybe if Vanessa's mother had been someone else... no. No point.

 With one hand, she gestures to the chair opposite her. Empty and waiting. "Hello, Luka. I got your favorite. You're doing well?" 

 ...the tenor isn't as friendly as it sounds, and feels more plastic than her smile appears.

(DeusExMakena) He hesitates, looking around the venue at the other tennants before wordlessly taking the seat across from her, mostly staring at the coffee cup in front of him.

Why is he having such a hard time looking at her?

"I'm... fine," he manages to force out as he takes the cup in both hands. Come on, man just get this over with and you can go home. "So uh, what brings you here?"

He wishes he could kick himself in the face for how out of place he feels, right now. What do you even say to someone you haven't seen in years, when the last time you saw them had been after an intense battle over the custody rights of the child you fought so hard to protect?

At least the warmth of the cup in his hands provides him with some reassurance.

(MysticDoodles) Something in Vanessa's smile twitches, but it's gone before he can really tell what it was.

"Oh- I just wanted to chat, catch up on old times, you know? I'm guessing the bar exam went well?"

...

Awkward silence, as Vanessa turns her smile away. She lifts her own coffee cup to her lips and takes a long drink, looking at the pavement.When she sets it down, there's a brief moment where her fingertips looked blue. It soon fades back into perfectly trimmed nails.

"...you know why I called you here, Luka. Don't make me lie to you." Her voice grows quiet, though pensive or frustrated is difficult to parse. "You were always better at lying, anyway."

(DeusExMakena) He squints slightly at that last remark and has to do enrything in his power to hold his tongue.

"I dont, actually. With the way things ended the last time we saw eachother, I was almost sure that would be it." he says, probably with a bit more venom in his tone than he should have used, but he was here for less than 10 minutes, now, and he could already feel his patience waning.

"But if you're really just here to reconnect, you'll have to forgive me" he takes a moment to swirl the cup in front of him before lifting it towards his mouth "I'm not very good at small-talk."

Chestnut-infused Columbean bean. Cream and Sugar. So nice to know that she never forgot.

(MysticDoodles) Vanessa smiles as he takes a drink. It's gone by the time he removes the cup again.

"...sorry," she says. Her stony expression shifts into a frown. This wasn't how she expected this conversation to go- but really, she had been expecting nothing, so no pain or gain thus far. "I'm not being very polite, am I? I guess I just- missed you, Luka. It's very different, going back to my mother's apartment after-... well. Being with you."

...

Another quiet sip. Vanessa runs her finger on the plastic cap.

"...do you miss the nights after we studied, when we'd just sit on the couch together and watch garbage movies?"

Before Harriet came along, she didn't say aloud.

(DeusExMakena) Of course he did, he loved her. And as much as he'd love to revisit those moments, to relive the sense of elation he felt when he got her to laugh over awkward acting and nonsensical writing... He just couldn't forgive her for what she did.

He sighs, opting to indulge in her to see where she's going with this.

"Yeah," He takes another sip, looking back down at the table "Sometimes I still wonder why that had to stop."

(MysticDoodles) There's no way he misses the way her fingers tighten on the paper coffee cup. Especially since it's accompanied by an audible pop of paper crumpling in a half inch, and liquid sloshing within.

"They did stop, Luka."

How could he be so blind?

"They stopped when you stopped spending them with me. You spent all your time with our daughter, and not with the loving wife who gave her to you. Don't you see how unfair that is? I deserved your time, too."

Vanessa sighs, her words almost chastising. It reminded of the times she shifted into 'disappointed mother' mode around Harriet. Their one year old, at the time, who didn't understand consequences for things like dropping a toy in the sink. She even had the nerve to sound hurt as she speaks those words.

(DeusExMakena) He is absolutely apalled.

"I-" he doesnt know why he cant find the words to respond. His eyes wide and his eyebrows furrow as he glares directly at her. He shouldnt be surprised by this, really, he saw this coming. Five years, and some things will just never change.

Luka pinches the bridge of his nose, he MARRIED this woman.

"I'm sorry, are we- are we really doing this again?" He sets his coffee cup on the table with a little more force than he wanted to, "You do realize you're getting jealous over a literal one-year old that we both agreed that we wanted to have. I'm her father, I'm sorry, again, for doing my job and raising our child."

(MysticDoodles) Vanessa's long-suffering expression hardens back into stone, pouting out her lip as once more, Luka shows no signs of budging on his stance. How very lawyerlike of him. To the bitter end, he would fight for his side of the case against the opposition. She wished they didn't have to be on opposite sides, anymore, yet here she was for the second time.

"Is it so wrong that I wanted to spend more time with my husband? All toddlers need to learn to share, anyway." Vanessa shrugs, as if this were no big deal. "You never spent evenings with me, anymore, Luka. Every night that you came back from graduate classes and networking with firms, you would go right to her. The honeyed words for me didn't come until dinner, if they came at all. And don't talk to me like I wasn't a good mother- I kept her out of trouble during the day, whenever I was out of rotation."

...

"How is my little Harriet doing? It's been so long since you've squirreled her away."

(DeusExMakena) No. No, no, no, he's not doing this again

"You..." He tries to hold his tongue, but peck, he doesnt want to deal with this right now. He feels his hands ball into fists "No. I'm sorry, no, you don't get to ask how my daughter is doing. You had every opportunity to join us, no one was stopping you from being happy but yourself! You wanna talk about sharing? Then why are you throwing a fit over a over a child spending time with her father?"

 ...

"She wanted a relationship with you, you know. It's... really hard having to explain to a five-year-old that she doesnt get to see her mother because she was too immature to realize 'oh hey! I could hang out with both my daughter AND my husband at the same time!'" He says that last bit in a mocking tone as he picks up his coffee and goes in for another sip, glaring straight at his ex-wife with pure exasperation.

(MysticDoodles) There he goes again. His daughter.

This time, Vanessa doesn't look away as she returns the glare. The medical graduate holds unflinching eye contact as she lifts her own cup and downs half the contents. Trying to make a statement, maybe? She always did have issues with competition.

"...so where does that leave us, then? You drink the coffee I got you, and walk away? Are you really so set on burning this bridge, Luka? Things can go back to the way they were, if you really want it that way. My stipend will get us through the rest of exams, and then we can live a good life together - high paying jobs, a comfortable apartment, as many dates and trashy movie nights as we want. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

...she didn't say a word about five-year-old Harriet.

(DeusExMakena) Luka takes a moment to stare at her, eyes half-lidded and tired.

He picks up the cup and downs the rest of his coffee, before placing it back on the table and standing up from his seat, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Allow me to light the match for you."

With that, he turns towards the door, ready to leave. Why would he feel bad about burning a bridge that leads nowhere?

(MysticDoodles) Luka can hear the squeal of the metal chair legs as Vanessa stands abruptly from her seat. There's no click of heels on riverstone, but he knows she's got her fists clenched at her sides, watching him. She always did that when she was angry. Maybe this time she'd have some ice on her wrists, now that her abilities were public. She'd put less effort into hiding it after the court case, anyway.

"YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE!" Vanessa yells after him as he continues, stride unbroken. "You'll regret this! You won that case, but you'll always be my prince, and I'll always be your princess!"

But legally, she couldn't touch him, now. Luka and Harriet were no longer family. He knew that, and she knew he did.

...

Oh well.

The door closes with a crnk-ling of the bell, and the background noise of the cafe starts to fade back into her awareness. Or lack thereof. Everyone nearby was staring, not that she cared.

Stiffening her upper lip, Vanessa grabs her bag and loops it back over one shoulder. She pats the side, removing the scarf off the copy of 'Ancient Botanicals & You' she'd found at the antique bookshop, and tying the garment back around her neck. With one hand she picks up Luka's cup, and looks inside.

Empty.

A smile traces her lips as she takes it along with her own, and tosses them both into the trash can.

Now all she had to do was wait and see.

[shnuggletea]

Chapter Six is LIVE!

Here’s another chapter for you and for @sins-week​

Pick your den of sin: Fanfiction AO3 or keep reading!

Serenity’s words settled over them. Endymion found he wasn’t surprised; he was sure he failed after the first assignment. But he didn’t see what Serena or even Silas had done wrong. Almas was never there for the job in the first place, but he complained the loudest.

“This is outrageous. Did you ever intend to employ anyone? Or was this all some sick rouse?”

Endymion had wondered the same thing many times over. But when Almas asked, it upset him. And he felt defensive. “Luna wouldn’t be so calloused. I’m sure there’s good cause for why we are being refused. Isn’t there?” Serenity was silent, looking over the three men with Serena unmoving behind her. Serena’s eyes were locked on Endymion, and as a tear fell down her cheek, Endymion found himself defensive of her more than anything else. “Or is Almas right, and this was all a sick joke? I struggle to find a cause as to why Serena isn’t being considered!”

“She should never have been here in the first place,” Serenity said coldly.

“Excuse me? She has every right to support herself and her family!!!”

Serenity held up her hands defensively, “I’m not saying that. I’m saying she doesn’t qualify for the position. And she knew this; she was never here for a job either.”

“You never said what the position was, to begin with. How could any of us know?!” Silas yelled, anger now swelling from him as well.

The next in line shook her head, “if we told you, then we’d have more like him,” Serenity pointed to Almas, “power-hungry fools looking to take over instead of genuinely interested in what Luna has to offer.”

Endymion stepped closer, his confusion overthrowing his anger for the moment. “I never cared what the position was, so I didn’t ask. But now that it is closed, you should feel free to tell us, what exactly were you searching for?!”

“A husband,” Serenity said with a soft smile.

Endymion’s eyes danced to Serena, who shivered under his stare. No part of him regretted the missed opportunity, and little of that had to do with Beryl. “You should have mentioned that from the start.”

“Forgive me. If you knew that the offer was to marry into the Luna family, we feared the worst. I think you can understand our secrecy.”

“How can you expect to find a husband this way?” Silas asked.

Serenity smirked, “isn’t getting married just like an interview? You get to know one another, size up your holdings, and then agree to a contract between one another in which you work together until the end of time. Like a job.”

“It’s not that simple, and you know it,” Serena whispered harshly behind the princess.

Serenity looked like she would address the matter, but Almas stopped being quiet. And Endymion was enjoying it so much. “If you’re looking for a husband, then look no further! I will be the most devoted man you’ve ever met, Serenity!”

Serenity laughed bitterly, throwing her head back, and Serena grabbed the woman’s arm in a strange display of affection. “You’re nothing but a liar! How can you promise devotion when you can’t devote yourself to my words!”

“What are you talking about? I would devote my soul to you if you asked!”

“You would devote yourself? Your soul? To who?”

Almas dropped to his knees, and it was just sad. “To you! Serenity, tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you!”

Serenity slowly shook her head, and Almas still didn’t rise from the floor. “I never said my name was Serenity.” Endymion was confused, more than from the woman’s words but at how Serena was pulling on the influential woman like she had a say. “And it’s not me that is seeking a husband. That’s my sister. The woman you are really looking for is standing right behind me.”

Endymion’s heart stopped, and Serena dropped her hold on the woman. Almas remained on the floor, but now it was out of shock. Silas was at Endymion’s side now, both of them staring in wonder at the woman on the dais. She said nothing, and it was hard to know what was true anymore.

“My name is Mina.”

“The younger sister?!” Almas spat.

Mina nodded, happy with the reveal, while Endymion felt punched in the stomach by it. None of it made sense; he’d seen Serena outside…outside of Luna. She said she was late, but she was on time along with him. The hat and gloves she’d lost…there hadn’t been a moment of hesitation or upset about them. If it were someone as poor as Serena claimed to be, then she would have raced after the hat. But someone of her stature didn’t fret over things like hats or gloves.

Endymion was replaying scenes and words between them from the day. It made his heart race and his body tremble. A strange feeling, but the one he recognized the most was betrayal. “Forgive me for leading you to think otherwise….” Endymion’s thoughts screeched to a halt as Serena…Serenity began to speak. “I wanted a say in who I married. My mother put this on against my wishes. I pretended to be here for the job to meet all of you. And I met….” Her eyes landed on Endymion for a moment, and a flush spread on her cheeks. But her smile quickly fell, and another tear fell. “I met disappointment.” Lifting a hand, Serenity went around the room of men. “This one,” she said, pointing at Almas on the floor, “is only here for the Luna name. He cares nothing about what we hope to accomplish….”

“I want the same as you! I want to increase Luna’s fortune; I won't stand in the way!!”

Mina silenced Almas with a look, “my sister wants to improve the town’s fortune! She’s not selfish, and she doesn’t yearn for what others have!”

Serenity looked at Endymion again, but it was too fast for him to notice. So she continued, going to Silas next. “This one is a thief and should be well searched before he leaves.”

Silas huffed, offended, but still backed up from the accusation. “That’s ridiculous!”

Endymion looked back and saw the women from the day surrounded them, Lita and Raye grabbing Silas and holding him captive. Amy reached into his pockets and pulled out a small metal box. “How much did Sapphire offer you to get this for them?”

He was confused again; what did a stone have to do with this? Almas knew everything, which was why he was the most agitated, it would seem. “Sapphire? You would sell out to those crooks?”

“Who’s Sapphire?” Endymion asked, tired of the dark.

Raye was kind enough to answer him. “Luna’s only competitor. Gail Laxia runs it and has been envious of Luna and Serenity for years now.”

Things had settled, so Endymion turned back to Serenity to hear his damning qualities. But she was whispering to her sister, strongly discussing something. Whatever it was, Mina relented by holding up her hands and nodding to her sister’s demands. But then, Serenity left. Turning on her heel, she disappeared in his mother’s dress.

“Endymion…you cannot be considered for my sister since you’re already engaged. However, we would like to offer you a job here. A real one. Serenity is sure you will make a great addition, and the rest of us agree.”

He turned to look back, the other women nodding gently. And here he thought that he failed? Endymion supposed it was foolish to look a gift horse in the mouth, and yet, he couldn’t stop his need to know. “Why? Why give me a job here? There isn’t an opening, not one that was offered? Why would you want me?”

“You want to feed others and not just yourself,” Amy answered from behind him.

Lita agreed with Amy with a nod, and Raye waited until he was looking at her to speak. “You have courage, but don’t gloat. You chose your battles wisely.”

“And Serenity cares about you,” Mina added, turning Endymion back around, “a job here would help you with your family and marriage. Won’t it?”

Endymion glanced around Mina to spy Serenity, but she was long gone and never coming back. “Yes, my…my family and the woman I want to marry are depending on this job. I need it to get married.”

“You said you didn’t need a job to afford marriage,” Silas stated, trying to catch Endymion in a lie.

“I don’t, but…the woman I want to marry will only consider me if I have this job.”

There was silence, but Endymion could hear himself. And he didn’t like what he heard. Mina grabbed his shoulders. “If you love her, then there’s nothing stopping you now.” There was more, and she held back. So Endymion waited, watching her face change with her decision of whether to speak or not. “But…that doesn’t sound like happiness to me.”

Stepping away from her touch, Endymion shook his head at Mina. “Regardless, the job will benefit my family. My mother can stop working, and I can adequately care for my elders.” He paused and looked once more around for Serenity, “And I would get to see….”

“No, you won’t. Serenity will be away, searching for a husband. Since this failed.” The others took the two men away. Endymion wanted to offer his assistance, but they had it very much covered. Mina remained before him, smiling. “Why don’t you go home, keep the suit, and tell your loved ones the good news?”

“But…”

“She’s not going to come back. So her task for the day is done. And I think she deserves some peace to…recover.”

That was it. Endymion had done it. He still felt like a failure, though, his stomach in knots while his heart sat on top of it. He wanted to speak to Serenity at least one more time. To hear her side again and to tell her his. He hadn’t done anything wrong, there were no promises, but he still felt guilt.

She had been nothing but kind to him: Endymion, the boy from nothing and the heiress, friends to the end. Yet, they hardly felt like friends by the time the curtain was drawn. He felt something different than friendship, and it seemed as though so much more was revealed to him that day. Endymion should be happy, but he knew he wouldn’t feel anything but wrong until he saw Beryl.

Yes, Beryl would be his first stop. And then, he would feel much better.

AN: Some of you might have seen that coming. I hope it was at least a little bit of a shock. But come on, this is fanfiction. It'd be hard for me to change it up so drastically like that! Anyway, I know it's a bit short but I didn't feel it needed more? Plus, this gives me time to write you a really good finale! Sorry, but I don't think I'll get it done for tomorrow. I hope to have it done Monday for you all at the latest!!

Tags:

@kagometaishostory @master-ray5 @sailorlolo @jayangel10 @zelink-inukag @malditamigs @liz8080 @infamousblueskies @jjwalla12 @gofoulpuppycollector @carbidopa-lynseydopa @witheykd @yeagro @preciouslyours @angelarin @pia-bartolini @blairex @reispinkoveralls @billyjbradshaw @littlemissinukag @usako98 @sloeaction @mamabearcat @wolverine1092 @dayfreshie-blog @windkissedsakura @kitsune-nomajo, @neutrons-inukag @parkdangbee @fawn-eyed-girl @yukinon-writes @bluejay785 @lavendertwilight89

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 20

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1857

Warnings:  Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 20: The Road to Forgiveness

I organized to meet my mother for lunch a week later.  Natasha, Wanda, and Thor came with me.   There had been a very long discussion full of a lot of debate about who should come with me.  If I’d let them they all would have, but I didn’t want the whole thing to be overwhelmed by them.  Part of me had wanted to go alone, but then when it came down to it, I was still scared to be left alone with either of my parents.  Besides, we were trying to keep the pregnancies out of the tabloids and if I was going to go out in public, I needed to take Natasha with me so they couldn’t see me.

Wanda came so that she could read my mother’s mind, to see if she was genuine in her attempts to shake off my father and start a new life and relationship with me.  While, Thor was coming because he had that ability to both be a calming and relaxing influence, but also intimidating if need be.

We thought we’d grab lunch somewhere with a private dining room that we could just be free to talk without too many prying eyes.  Then afterward we’d go shopping for baby clothes and maybe something for ourselves.

We were all well and truly showing now, and I did worry about how mom would take the news that all three of us were pregnant.  Natasha wore a short, black maternity dress with knee-length black leggings underneath and a chain belt that sat above the baby bump that’s chain hung down her side.  Wanda was in a long, flowing, off-the-shoulder, lace dress in cream with red flowers embroidered on the bust and around the hems.  I was in a short black dress with a blue tartan skirt and a pair of black lace tights under it.  Thor was in black jeans, a gray v-neck t-shirt, and his favorite red velvet jacket over it.  When we suddenly appeared in front of the staff of the restaurant they almost jumped in shock.  That shock was quickly replaced with a look of slight awe and definitely attraction as they looked Thor up and down.

Mom was already waiting for us when we were led into the private room.  She was with my brother Ian and a small, slight woman around his age that I didn’t recognize but I assumed must be his wife because there were two kids there too - a girl who looked around eight years old and a boy around five.

Mom got to her feet and seemed to move forward like she was going to come and greet me with a hug, before stopping dead and looking me up and down.  “Elise! You’re pregnant!”

“I am?” I said, looking down at myself.  “Oh wow.  I guess I am.”

She gave me that look moms are so good at.  The ones that tell you that you’re not as funny as you think you are.  To her credit, she didn’t press the issue.

“Congratulations,” she said. “And both of you too?”

Natasha gave a terse nod, while Wanda smiled.  “That’s right,” she said.

“Mom, you met Wanda,” I say.  “And this is Natasha and Thor.”

Thor offered her his hand.  She seemed grateful to take it.  “It’s nice to meet you,” you said.

Ian moved forward.  “Hey, El,” he said.  “This is my wife Rachel.”  Despite not having touched either of the people that were related to me, I offered my hand to Rachel.   She shook it and trembled a little as she did.

“So nice to meet you.  Ian said you were his sister and I didn’t believe him,” she said.

“Well, we’ve not had a lot of contact over the last fifteen or so years,” I said.

“Oh, this is Josh and Hannah,” she said.

“Hello,” I said, though their attention was completely drawn to Thor.  They stared up at him with their mouths open.

He crouched down and smiled warmly at them.  “Hello, children,” he said.  “How are you?”

“I hope you don’t mind us coming along too,” Ian said.  “We came to visit mom and then your people set up the lunch…”

“It’s fine,” I assured him.  “It’s good to see you.  Let’s sit.  I’d really like to get off my feet.”

We all sat down, the kids both choosing chairs on either side of Thor.  A waiter took our drink orders and left us to decide what we would order.

“How are your kids?  You have two right?  I read that somewhere,” Rachel asked.

“Yes, we have twins.  A boy and a girl.  They’re in preschool right now,” I answered.  While everyone else seemed to be relaxing a little more, Natasha seemed to be getting more wound up and I was wondering if it was a good idea to bring her.  “They’re good.”

Wanda looked at Natasha and Natasha pursed her lips.  I was pretty certain that Wanda was telling her off because as the rest of us looked over the menu and Thor spoke with the kids about what they wanted to order Natasha’s face got tenser and tenser until she sagged and let out a huff of breath.

The waiter brought our drinks out and took our orders.  I ordered four cheese gnocchi but as soon as the waiter left I regretted it.  I wasn’t sure how well I was going to be able to stomach such a heavy dish considering the circumstances.  Thankfully Thor ordered four different entrees and three starters, and among them was a salad and bruschetta so if I needed to, I knew I’d be able to swap with him.

“How have things been going, mom?” I asked.  “They told me you’ve settled here.”

“Yes,” Mom said.  “It’s a big change.  Originally I was just going to stay in Ohio with Amanda but then part of me worried that if I did that I’d end up just going back to him.  And I wanted to show you I was serious and make it up to you.  I missed so much and I know ... I know how I treated you - all of you really - was terrible.  Making you think it was okay for him to treat us like that.  Making you think that was the only way to have a life.  I don’t want to make excuses but it was all I knew either.  And now here you are… with this other way.  Are you happy?”

I smiled a little and my eyes felt a slight prickle from tears forming.  “Yeah, mom.  I’m really happy.  This is different, you’re right.  And sometimes it’s not easy.  But while most people see the difference as us all being together as a group rather than just paired off, what’s different to me is I feel safe, loved, and supported.  Even during our worst time, I had people who loved and supported me there helping me get through it.  I just… never felt that growing up.  I was scared all the time and I couldn’t see any way that would ever end, because you kept telling me all the ways I had to act to get a good husband, but a good husband wasn’t a good man, it was a rich one.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.  I want to try and make it up to you,” mom said.  “But I know I can’t.  I just hope you’ll let us start from scratch.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for too,” I said.

“Is it true that you’re all married to each other?”  Hannah asked.

“That’s right, young one,” Thor said. “In fact for a while, your Aunt was the Queen of Asgard.”

“Woah,” Hannah gasped. “Really?  Why not anymore?”

“After we wed I gave up the throne to my sister.  She is taking care of things now so I have time to be a husband and father,” Thor explained.

“Are you really all married?  I mean… officially?” Mom asked, looking between the three of us.

“As you know, on Earth Elise is legally married to Tony,” Wanda explained.  “We did that for a sense of security and to protect the children’s inheritance.  But prior to that, we all participated in a ceremony known as bonding on Asgard.”

“Asgard is more forward-thinking than here,” Thor added. “They are all legally my spouses and count as Asgard royalty.  They are all princes and princesses there.  It is much deeper too.  We are connected.”

The starter came out and I pinched one of Thor’s stuffed mushrooms and began to eat it with a piece of warm rye bread that was provided for the table.  I definitely wasn’t as tense as I had been when I arrived but even still, the rich buttery stuffing on the mushroom sat like a brick inside me when I swallowed it.

“Can I ask something?”  Mom said.  “I don’t know if this is offensive or rude but… do you know who the fathers of the children are?”

I sighed and took a sip of my drink, wishing the sweet and acidic juice had the deep burn of alcohol to go with it.  “They’re everyone’s mom.  Just like I’m going to be mommy to the babies that Wanda and Nat are carrying.”

“No,” she said, a little flustered.  “I know, but…”

I shook my head, interrupting her. “Look, I know it’s different, and maybe even hard for you to grasp because you did play favorites.  But we don’t.  Not with these kids.  We do happen to know biology.  Part of that was because of medical issues that might have arisen depending on whose biology was involved.  But as far as how we act and how we treat the kids, they are loved equally by everyone as their own.  Because they are.  That is no one’s business but ours.  And I want to make it clear, they could biologically have been anyone’s. We aren’t confused friends, mom.  They’re my husbands and wives in every sense of the word.”

“Right,” she said.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said.  “I do want you to feel okay around us.  But… not if we have to fit some ideal you still have set in your head about how my life should be.  It is how it is and if you want to meet the others and even the kids then you just have to be open to that difference.”

“Can we meet the other avengers?”  Hannah asked.

“Perhaps someday,” Thor said.  “I am sure your cousins would love to meet you too.”

“Thor,” Natasha warned, giving her head a tiny shake.

“Does that mean you’re our uncle?”  Hannah asked.

A large smile broke out on Thor’s face.  “Why yes it does,” he said.

“I’ve got a safer topic of discussion, and one Rachel and I can reciprocate,” Ian said.  “How did you all meet and start seeing each other in the first place?”

“Oh, yes please,” Rachel added.  “I would love to hear that.”

I smiled and looked at Natasha.  “That we can do,” I said.  “But it depends on how far back you want to go.  Because it really starts way back in 1929…”

// NEXT

[xmfxne]

Grieving...

June 18 - 10:00 AM

Khura’in Family Graveyard 

It wasn’t Apollo’s first time in the graveyard, after all, he’d been there for Dhurke’s initial burial. Nahyuta really wanted him laid to rest where he died, but Her Mercifulness, Queen Amara, insisted. Insisted that that wretched lie of a tomb be destroyed and replaced with a memorial of some kind. To honor Jove, and to make amends for the trouble Gar’an caused. 

The brothers stood before the grave, resting a bouquet of nahmanda and sunflowers atop the still somewhat fresh overturned dirt. Nahyuta quickly kneeled and mumbled some Khura'inese prayer under his lips...

Apollo, on the other hand, stood next to him...staring at the grave. He couldn't read it, but he recognized the name. Dhurke Sahdmadi. He wished he could read the epitaph, but he'd completely forgotten how to read Khura'inese. He wished now that he knew more...

“A father, a leader, a lawyer, a husband, a dragon. A dragon never yields.” Nahyuta read. It was hard for Apollo to not tear up hearing it. It was just like Dhurke. “You wanted to know what was written, yes?”

Apollo swallowed thickly. He couldn’t start crying. He’d make Nahyuta cry too. “Y-yeah...thanks.” He exhaled, ‘scratching’ his nose with the base of his thumb. It hurt. 

Nahyuta went back to his prayer. Apollo said his own words. Words he didn’t want his brother to hear.

‘I’m sorry. For the hostile welcoming. I wish I’d been more understanding...but I wasn’t. You welcomed me back with open arms, as if no time had passed, and I...” Apollo lowered his head, blinking away the tears he was holding back. He refused to cry in front of Dhurke. Out of respect. It was the least he could do. ‘I was too busy being hurt. Hurt by the things out of your control. I fed myself lies that I never should have believed...And treated you coldly when all you were trying to do was reunite with me, see me one last time. Be with me one last time...let me see you one last time...I wasn’t...fair...to...you...I won’t cry. I won’t shed tears for you...you wouldn’t want me to, right Dhurke? You’d want me...us...to be strong. Together.... Right?’

It was hard...Hard not to cry. Hard not to miss him. Hard not to feel guilty. He shouldn’t have been angry at him. He doubted his love for him as his son. How could he?

Nahyuta stood, then turned towards his younger brother and put a hand on his shoulder.  “We were only kids, you know.” “Huh?” “When you left. I remember I was...so angry with him.” “You were?” Apollo grew up with Nahyuta long enough to see him get mad and lash out, like anyone else would...and yet, somehow, the idea of him being mad at Dhurke, over him being forced to leave, seemed so oddly impossible for him. Maybe it was because he’d spend over a decade thinking he wasn’t wanted and pawned off to someone else. “We’d...never been apart before then. I wanted to come with you.” “You did?!” Nahyuta nodded. “I didn’t want you to be alone, I didn’t want you to be somewhere where I couldn’t help you if you needed it.” That was just Like Nahyuta, wasn’t it? Wanting to protect his family. “Not a day went by when I didn’t think of you. That is, until Princess Rayfa was born.” “Gee, thanks.” Apollo half-teased, mostly just to lighten the mood.

Nahyuta closed his eyes, raising his free hand.  “Forgive me, I hadn’t meant it as though she replaced you.” There he goes, taking things a but too literally again. “No, no, I get it.” “Even then, I wish you had been there to meet her. It was when she and Mother were...taken away. That I understood.” Nahyuta sighed, looking back at Dhurke’s tombstone. “I was thankful that he did what he did. You weren’t here...and that meant you were safe. It was selfish of me to feel the way I did prior.”

“No it wasn’t.” Nahyuta froze at that, looking back at Apollo. “Hm?”  “I know Gar’an probably made you think this way, but it’s not selfish to want to be with the ones you love.” “Apollo...” “And Dhurke would want you to understand that. He would want us to have each other like this.” “Apollo...” Nahyuta rested his head on Apollo’s shoulder, and Apollo wrapped him in an embrace.  “You’re not selfish, Nahyuta. It’s not at all selfish to protect the ones you love. That’s what Dhurke wanted for us. He wanted us to be safe. Even if it meant he was hurt in the process. He wanted us to have each other like this...” “S-stop...” His voice wavered in the same way that it had when they found out Dhurke had been dead days prior to his trial. He could feel his older brother’s breathinf hitch against his shoulder. Apollo rubbed soft, soothing circles against his back. He was an expert at comforting others like this by now. 

The brothers stayed like that for some time, Apollo merely stared at the grave, feeling better with Nahyuta’s justification of ‘we were only kids.’ He couldn’t have known any better...And though he should have been more understanding as an adult, he wasn’t at first, and nothing would change that. No, instead, he had the power to change his perception of things now. 

After a while, Nahyuta pulled away, his expression neutral, as if nothing had ever happened. They both were refusing to cry, knowing Dhurke wouldn’t want either of them to shed tears over him.  “We should move on. After all,” Nahyuta tilted his head with a soft, yet genuine smile, “do you not have another person to call?” “Oh, right! Mr. Alguy! He’s probably home by now, too!”  “We should hurry before he goes off to bed for the night.”

The brothers left the cemetery, feeling much better about their circumstances and with even stronger resolves. There was no guarantee that they wouldn't cry today, but they had the strength of each other to fall back on. They could rely on their nonbiological brotherhood as a pillar of unwavering strength. As family.

[mordoriscalling]

Life (of) Surprise (3/5)

Jaskier lies to his family about being engaged to Geralt for the second time… and there are way too many surprises involved.

Part 4 of the Singer and the Sailor AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway (again). Warnings: Jaskier and Geralt have a serious argument in this one.

(Part 1) (Part 2) 

III - A Surprise Realisation 

Geralt never thought he’d get married again, much less to a man. Leave alone a man like Jaskier, who is loud, bright, and charismatic; unlike Geralt in so many aspects that by all means, their relationship shouldn’t work as well as it does.  

He’s a divorcee. His previous relationships didn’t last. Rationally, he knows he should’ve been more cautious, yet when Jaskier got down on one knee that April morning, Geralt found himself unable to say no. He was so tired that day, but that wasn’t the reason he said yes. He agreed to marry Jaskier because back then – as he looked into Jaskier’s eyes, blue like the cloudless sky above them – he realised that it seemed right.

Jaskier’s always accepted Geralt the way he is, with all his problems and mistakes. Jaskier is both safety and adventure. He’s trustworthy and unpredictable; a fascinating contradiction that Geralt could see himself exploring for the rest of his life.

Or so he thought.

“Eight months,” Geralt grits out, his emotions balancing at the edge of fury.

Jaskier says nothing, his eyes cast downwards, standing in the middle of the room with the air of a puppy about to be kicked.

“We’ve been engaged for eight fucking months,” Geralt growls, “and you’re only telling me this now?”

“I wanted to come clean,” Jaskier answers weakly. His voice doesn’t waver.

The steadiness of his voice shouldn’t be surprising, though. Jaskier’s a singer. A performer. A very good one. Geralt didn’t have an issue with that before. The only problem with Jaskier that Geralt’s ever truly had it that Jaskier can be extremely inconsiderate at times.

Now, the former and the latter seem to have merged into something that Geralt isn’t sure he can forgive.

“You didn’t think about doing that earlier?” he asks.

It’s New Year’s Eve. They’re in Jaskier’s childhood bedroom, where they’re to sleep for the night. Downstairs, a party is about to begin, with both Jaskier’s and Geralt’s family and closest friends in attendance. Jaskier’s parents, Wanda and Alfred. Rozalia and Silvio, Amelia with Nasir and their daughter. Triss, Essi and Eskel. Aiden and Lambert. Vesemir, Yennefer, Ciri, Dara.

Geralt suspects that everyone is waiting in the dining room already. Yet, this is the moment that Jaskier chose to tell him about the circumstances of their engagement.

“I didn’t have the courage,” Jaskier replies, “I was afraid you’d take it the wrong way.”

“Have the fuck am I supposed to take it any other way?!” Geralt barks, making Jaskier flinch. “You told your family that we’d marry before you asked me to marry you.”

It’s dark outside the tall windows. The only source of light in the room is the chandelier above Jaskier’s head, hanging down from the high ceiling. The lamps cast Jaskier in a warm glow, and to Geralt, it seems as if he saw his fiancé for the first time. There’s a stubborn set to Jaskier’s jaw as he still refuses to look at nowhere but the wooden floor.

“You did that for what?” Geralt demands, “So that you look good in front of your family? Is... us some kind of fucking performance for you? Have you been pretending from the –”

“No,” Jaskier cuts in. His gaze is finally on Geralt, and he appears genuinely aghast at the notion. “The only pretending I’ve ever done is lying to myself that our engagement was for real the whole time! I told everyone that we’d marry because I wished it so badly to be true! I wanted it to happen, so I said something that would force me to make it happen.”

The confession would be heart-warming if not for the last sentence, which makes Geralt’s blood run cold. He walks up to Jaskier slowly, staring him down, trying to see through the (distracting, deceptive) blue of his eyes.

“You would’ve made it happen?” he murmurs, his emotions treading the dangerous line again, “If I’d said no, would you have persisted? Manipulated me, as you did with the spring wedding?”

A broken noise escapes Jaskier’s lips. “That wasn’t my intention! I’m so sorry that I made you feel this way. Please forgive me, I never meant it like that–”

“I’m starting to doubt every word you say,” Geralt interrupts, because now their nearly three years together feel fake.

Jaskier takes a step back, hurt written all over his features. Tears well up in his eyes as he exclaims, “I’m not lying! I’m not lying when I say that you’re the only one that I want to marry.”

Geralt doesn’t want to hear it. He moves to walk away but Jaskier grabs him by the arm. “Dammit Jaskier,” he growls, “don’t–”

“Listen to me,” Jaskier says, insistent.

 Geralt tries not to, looks away to distance himself, but Jaskier’s voice is that of a siren – arresting and irresistible, powerful even when hushed.

“I never thought that I’d settle down. I fell in love too easily. One day a woman from the bar would have my heart, and then next it would be a guy at the bus stop. Commitment wasn’t my thing.”

Geralt scowls, about to ask how that information is supposed to help in the current situation, but Jaskier speaks first.

“But then, then I met someone who’s so deeply fascinating that I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s been through so much and yet he’s nothing but kind and considerate. He has so much presence but he rarely uses it to his advantage. He feels so much and yet he shows nothing. He...” Jaskier chuckles, the sound somehow both warm and sad. “He’s honest with me and calls me out on my mistakes, challenging me to be better. Thanks to him, I don’t stop learning. With him, it seems like... like we’re writing a gripping book. A... a story I want to go on and on.”

A story without an ending may not be a happy one, Geralt muses. He says nothing, though, still looking away, and Jaskier speaks up again.

“From the moment I met you, I’ve wanted you to stay, but perhaps–” he cuts himself off, releasing out a shaky sigh. He lets go of Geralt’s arm at least and then utters, “Perhaps I love you too much. Maybe it’s not healthy, after all.”

Pain seeps through every syllable as Jaskier says this. Geralt has to swallow hard because that, that seems so wrong. How can it not be healthy when the only time they truly breathe – truly relax and let go – is as they are around each other?

Geralt stands frozen, listening to Jaskier’s sniffs, and tries to process all that he’s heard. He has to fight his fervent want to believe Jaskier’s loving words. He wishes it to be true, yet the recent revelation’s stained all they’ve been through with the ugly thought that Geralt’s feelings – his love – have just been a fucking box to tick.

The sheer hurt of it settles somewhere deep within him, clawing a hole in his chest, wrenching, pulling all the air out of his lungs. He can’t stand being next to Jaskier anymore and escapes to the bathroom, which is adjacent to the bedroom.

The water is cool as Geralt splashes it all over his face. He tries to take his emotions under control, especially that anger raises within him once more. He’s a moment away from doing some real damage to the furniture.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to calm down. He assumes that enough time passes for Jaskier to decide to go downstairs without him, which is the only wish he has right now. Yet, as he emerges from the bathroom, it (unsurprisingly) turns out that he can't have what he wants – Jaskier sits there, at the edge of the large bed, his face hidden in his hands. As he hears Geralt approach, he raises his head revealing his dishevelled hair and red-rimmed eyes.

He’s a picture of misery and Geralt heart lurches in sympathy, in a ridiculous need to comfort his fiancé, despite his anger.

They stay like that, staring at each other for a few unbearable moments of heavy, choking silence, until Geralt finally breaks it.

“Dinner must’ve started by now,” he says, “We should go.”

 A rasped “okay” is all the answer Jaskier gives.

They don’t pretend that everything is all right. Everybody quickly notices the tension between them and the dinner is a painful affair at the beginning. It’s a miracle that everyone’s managed to gather here today, though. The two families seem determined to make the best of it and the initial awkwardness soon passes. Conversations start flowing and after some time, everyone is getting along well enough for the party not to be torturous.

When dinner is finished, Jaskier’s parents invite them to the living room. There, a piano awaits, and Jaskier launches into a short performance that leaves everyone spell-bound, including Geralt, even though it hurts.

It hurts to watch Jaskier’s fingers dance over the keys, knowing the way in which those beautiful hands touch his body. It hurts to see the tempting curve of Jaskier’s neck, knowing how Jaskier always gasps when he kisses it. It hurts to watch Jaskier shine because he believed that he had a part of Jaskier’s light to himself.

And yet. Now, there’s the ugly thought at the back of his head that it wasn’t true. Jaskier did claim it was.

And yet.

The moment the performance ends, Geralt decides to survive by sticking with Silvio. Rozalia’s husband is talkative but what he loves chattering about the most is the cats and dogs he’s fostering with his wife. He shows Geralt pictures and videos, which improves Geralt’s mood slightly.

After Triss and Nasir steal Silvio away, Geralt is left alone, sitting in the corner of the room with his glass of wine. On instinct, his eyes search for his daughter. He finds her talking to Jaskier’s sister and frowns.

He loves Ciri more than life itself but he’s aware that she’s can be a right brat. He’s also familiar with Amelia and Rozalia enough to know that they’re very likely to be charmed by Cirilla’s vicious streak. Jaskier seems to know it too, and he appears genuinely terrified as he watches his sisters chat with Ciri, the three smiling mysteriously.

Then, Yennefer joins them, and Geralt is... apprehensive.

The party goes on. Some people, like his brothers, leave Geralt in peace. Others, such as Jaskier’s parents, insist on speaking to him. He picks his way through the, admittedly polite and pleasant, conversations, until no one wants to talk to him.

All the while, his gaze strays to Jaskier. Geralt watches him joke with Essi and Vesemir, laugh at something Lambert and Eskel are saying, take his niece into his arms and coo at her with Aiden by his side.

As Geralt observes Jaskier hold little Zofia and smile at her lovingly while Aiden makes funny faces at her, he suddenly comes to understand how tightly Jaskier has managed to weave himself in between all the threads that make Geralt’s life. All his family know Jaskier and accept him. Most of them are fond of him, or downright adore him. Geralt’s thoughts and memories of the sea are mingled with Jaskier’s songs. He doesn’t miss being at sea as much as he feared in large part due to Jaskier engaging him in his own life. Jaskier knows him, like a true friend does.

Removing him from the tapestry would leave a jagged hole, and Geralt realises that it’s not something he’d ever want. After all, he doesn’t have a particular place where he belongs. His home is where his loved ones are.

And he loves Jaskier so.

It’s ten minutes to midnight when Jaskier approaches him for the first time since the argument. Geralt still sits on the couch without any company as Jaskier stands before him, clearly putting up a happy face.

“I love the way you just... sit in the corner and brood,” he remarks, his cheerfulness falling flat,

Geralt rolls his eyes, irritated. “I’m here to drink alone,” he grunts.  

Jaskier, of course, refuses to take the hint and sits down beside him. Before Geralt can protest it, though, loud giggles catch his attention. He looks at the source of the sound and sees Ciri and Dara laughing at something on their phones (a meme, Geralt assumes). Joy at seeing his daughter’s happiness fill him but then Jaskier’s voice snaps him back to reality.

“If you say that you don’t believe me,” he says, “what must Dara think?”

Geralt looks at him sharply and immediately understands the sadness in his eyes. He’s aware of how much Jaskier wants Dara to know that all he’s done to help the boy – putting his career on hold to care for him, providing for him, going to therapy with him – are driven by genuine willingness to help, not pity or charity.

“Maybe I’m not good at...” Jaskier goes on, a wry smile twisting his lips, “Well. This whole... guardian thing.”

“You are,” Geralt replies.

It is true. Dara agreed to say with Jaskier eight months ago. The boy is still grieving and struggling but Jaskier has been supporting him through it with surprisingly few missteps.

“Thank you,” Jaskier answers, uncharismatically timid.“I... Geralt,” he begins, his tone sombre.

Geralt tenses and waits. His free hand, the one not holding the wine glass, clenches into a fist.  

“I’m sorry for withholding the truth from you for so long, I was...” Jaskier swallows. “Stupid. It was wrong of me, and I... I promise it won’t happen again.”

He looks away and considers, even though there isn’t much to wonder about. There’s no coming back from how important Jaskier is to him, for better or for worse. His hurt is far from mended but Geralt nods. Jaskier heaves a sigh and lays his hand atop Geralt clenched fist.

“Will you stay?” Jaskier murmurs.

A memory strikes him – of how Jaskier asked him the same thing almost three years ago as they stood outside this very house.

In the background, the countdown begins. Geralt unclenches his fist and takes Jaskier’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. Jaskier squeezes back and the New Year starts.

***

A/N: the chapter count went up to 5 because I wanted to split ch3 into two smaller parts. Also, you can also read this fic on AO3. 

[alirhi]

26

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 26/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the realreason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. Notes: Taking a little creative license with the mythology. If Marvel can fuck around with it, I can, too XD

Whatever Loki had been expecting subconsciously as he prepared himself for this meeting, the Queen Mother far exceeded it. Skadi was beautiful, ageless, and she exuded a strength that was palpable even from across the cavernous room. Fighting to hide his awe of her but unable to fully suppress his somewhat giddy smile, he bowed slightly. He was relieved when, without being prompted, Bucky bowed much lower than he had.

"So, Loki Odinson of Asgard." His smile instantly faded at that title, and the disdain in her voice.

"Laufeyson, actually," he snapped. "Did you think I dipped myself in blue paint before I arrived?"

Once again, a hand resting softly on his shoulder made him glance at Bucky, who was shaking his head in warning. "Loki..."

He huffed, but collected himself and forced a cordial smile as he returned his attention to the other end of the room. His brothers stood to either side of their mother, all three looking darkly amused at his expense. Squashing down his ego for the sake of diplomacy, Loki ignored it and pushed on. "Forgive me. I'm not here to quibble about names. For some time, I was raised to believe I was a son of Odin, but as you can see, I've found my way past Odin's lies and have returned home."

"Home?" Helblindi snorted. "The dwarf thinks he can find a home here?"

"Isn't that precious?"

Though she, too, looked like she wanted to laugh, Skadi held up a hand to silence her sons' chortling and teasing. "This was never your home, Odinson. Don't think that just because you've made yourself pariah on Asgard, you can run here to hide. We have no use for a runt with an inflated ego; we already have a court jester."

"Okay, fuck diplomacy," Bucky growled, looking like he wanted to rip them all apart with his bare hands. "Show these arrogant blue bitches what you can do."

Though normally his lover's support would have made him smile, Loki was rather distracted by an unexpected stab of pain as his heart splintered. Somewhere deep down, he'd hoped that Odin's story had been a lie; that he'd been stolen from loving parents who would welcome him back with open arms. Faced now with the overwhelming evidence that he truly had been abandoned, he wasn't sure what to do. He'd already forgotten the true reason he was there in the first place.

"Mother-"

Now even Skadi was laughing. "Is that what you think?! That I would ever produce such a puny reject?" She leaned on Býleistr's shoulder for a moment, both of them openly laughing at the furious, confused Trickster. "This thing thinks I'm its mother! The arrogance!"

"But you're the wife of Laufey-"

"Yes." All traces of humor gone in an instant, she straightened and glared at him. "And you killed him. So tell me, Odinson, why should I not have you executed now and have done with it?"

Well, if Skadi wasn't his mother, at least he didn't have to give a damn what she thought of him. Fuck diplomacy, indeed. Adjusting his coat, Loki stood a bit straighter and took a step forward. "Because you are not the one in power." He nodded to Helblindi. "He is. And since you couldn't keep Laufey's interest, I'm afraid you've lost mine."

"You insolent little-"

"Mother." With a smirk that reminded Loki a little of himself, Helblindi put a hand on Skadi's shoulder to stop her from rushing at their uninvited guest. "Even if he's fallen out of favor for the moment, we risk war if we kill Odin's favorite pet." He nodded to Bucky and grinned. "Why not kill the human, instead? An eye for an eye, a husband for a husband."

"I mean, technically-"

Shaking his head at his lover's adorable fixation on unimportant details, Loki chuckled. "You don't want to do that."

"Why?" Skadi challenged, already reaching for her sword. "It sounds reasonable to me."

"What am I, a prop?"

Somehow until that moment, it had never occurred to him that his shapeshifting power meant he could change his size, as well as his shape. Growing to just a bit taller than the wide-eyed and startled Queen, he grinned. "Because I fight better when it's for someone I love."

With a wave of Loki's hand, a gun appeared in Bucky's. To his credit, his pretty soldier didn't even seem fazed; he calmly checked the mechanisms and readied the weapon to be fired.

"And if I were you, I wouldn't want to fight him."

He had nothing to prove to these people. The realization hit him out of nowhere, and with a soft sigh, he returned to his original height. He had no need to make himself as large as they were; he was more powerful than all of them. With the flick of his wrist, he could have them on their knees.

While Skadi and Býleistr watched Loki's every move with anger and suspicion, Helblindi chuckled and stepped forward. "Why have you come here, little brother? Surely it's nothing so childishly sentimental as looking for a family."

Right. Thanos. Still burning with curiosity about his birth mother, Loki pushed it aside the best he could and approached the King. "A war is coming that threatens to reduce all the Nine Realms to ash. We need to be able to stand together-"

"You're asking for an alliance?" Skadi's mocking, incredulous tone was truly grating on his nerves. "You have no power to speak for Asgard! You have no power at all."

"Tell me, Your Highness," he demanded, "which of Laufey's sons was born first?"

"If you think we'd ever put some half-breed reject on the throne-"

"I've never wanted a throne!" Loki snapped, glaring at her. A spike of ice surged up from the floor; he narrowly stopped it from impaling her. With a growl, he shattered it and explained as calmly as he could, "I was simply making a point. And I do not speak for Asgard. Odin's got his head so far up his ass I doubt he can tell what time it is, much less lead a charge."

Helblindi looked dubious, but intrigued. "Then whom are we to ally ourselves with?"

He deflated slightly, though he did his best not to show it. "...The Avengers. They're a group on Midgard-"

"I've heard of them."

"You have?" Bucky sounded as incredulous as Loki felt; it was rather nice to not have to be the one to voice it.

With an almost-genuine smile, the King nodded to his brother. "Býleistr, bring Farbauti to us, while I talk with her son."

Skadi was fuming. "I will not have that Asgardian whore in my house!"

"It's not your house anymore, Mother," Helblindi calmly reminded her as he gestured for Loki and Bucky to join him at a table set up on the far side of the room. "I can handle things from here."

Eyes wide, Loki watched the Queen Mother storm out of the room. At first, all that registered in his mind was that there was a chance someone was actually listening to him for a change. Then the words 'her son' and 'Asgardian' filtered through the din of his racing thoughts.

By the time Býleistr returned with a nervous looking Aesir woman in tow, all Loki had managed to come up with to say was a somewhat choked, "What?"

___________________________________________________

For those who don't know: in the mythology, Loki is only half Jotun. his mother is never specified as Aesir, but she is referred to as "a goddess" so I figured Asgardian/Aesir is probably a safe bet.

___________________________________________________ Masterlist

[shigarakis-fifth-hand]

Bakugo x Reader; Catch Ya Later

💥 Enjoy the series! one two three

💥 Bakugo paced down the hall, back and fourth. Only one thing was on his mind... you.

💥 Your beautiful face... the image of Aizawa carrying you away. Your body burning as Todoroki’s fireball sending you into the window. The sound of glass shattering... The last image of your face in his mind as he told you to run to get the bomb, before Shoto burned you. It had happened within seconds, and Bakugo had never gotten to say goodbye.

💥 “Bakugo!” Katsuki looked up from his desk to see Kirishima shaking him.”Bro! Get up! Nezu called us up to his office!” Bakugo got up from his desk, quickly walking down the hallway with Aizawa, Mina, Kirishima, and Todoroki until they got to Nezu’s office, All Might and Shinso from 1-B sitting on one of the chairs already.

💥 “Is Y/n okay Sensei?” Mina asked, rushing to sit next to All Might. “Who’s with her right now?” Todoroki asked, noticing that none of the teacher’s were with her. “Where the fuck is she?! She’s not in recovery girl’s office, I’ve checked!” Bakugo yelled as Nezu put his paws up, telling them to stop.

💥 “Do not worry, Y/n is in the finest hospital in this area. I have called you here to confront that you all have the exact same class schedules as Y/n. I can only ask that at least one of you carry her things for her.” Bakugo and Shinso immediately stood up. “I’ll do it!” They both yelled at the same time. 

💥 “Anyways, I’m going back to the hospital now, three of you can fit in my car.” Aizawa stopped the arguing as the three guys stood up. 

💥 “What? We want to see-”, “You’ll see her later!!” Bakugo shoved Mina and Kir back in their seats. “Alright, it’s decided. Shouta, please pull around your car and allow these fine gentlemen to go see their friend. Kirishima and Mina, you can go back to class. Thank you for your time.” Nezu smiled as everyone except All Might walked out.

💥 “Nezu, what is your plan with Young Y/n? Her power is dangerous like her aunt, and it’ll only grow stronger.” All Might asked concernedly, worried about you. 

💥 “She’s easily the strongest student there, no matter what Deku might have from you. I can only believe she’ll do great things, but again, I know that being a child model isn’t easy. I can only try and help make her life as normal as possible, until she becomes the world’s greatest hero.” Nezu smiled, easing All Might’s concerns.

...

💥 Aizawa, Shoto, Shinso, and Katsuki all drove in the car towards the hospital, sitting in pure silence. Aizawa had forced Bakugo to sit up front, making sure he didn’t rip the heads off the other two. “So can you tell me why someone from 1-B is here?” Bakugo looked in the mirror, staring Shinso in the eyes. “I’m one of Y/n’s best friends for your information. We had a movie night last night.” 

💥 Bakugo’s eyes widened in confusion as he turned around. “What the hell?! Y/n is staying in an Airbnb until she moves her furniture into her new dorm.” Bakugo explained as Shinso yelled. “God, you read that magazine about her?! What a creep. She’s not staying in an Airbnb, she’s staying with my dads and I.” Bakugo looked at Aizawa, his eyes even wider. He was so confused.

💥 “Y/n is staying with you and Present Mic?! Seriously?” He asked as Aizawa just nodded. “Yes, do you have an issue with that?” Aizawa asked as Bakugo grunted, slumping down in his seat. Aizawa couldn’t help but smile. He hoped that his son would date Y/n. When they got to the hospital, the boys couldn’t help but practically race each other to the front of the hospital and to her room. “Boys!” Aizawa’s voice boomed down the hallway, stopping them before going inside. 

💥 “Now, I need to warn you about something. First, she hasn’t eaten and she’s been given a lot of drugs so she’s loopy. Also, she’s going into surgery later, but she doesn’t know that so... don’t mention it. She’s absolutely terrified. Also, be prepared for her to look... bad. With the lost of blood, the glass cutting a main vain, and the third degree burns, it’s not’s pretty.”

💥 Aizawa opened the door, letting the boy’s eyes widen in shock. Y/n was connected to an oxygen mask, with bandages wrapped around her arms, legs, chest, and neck. She looked like an angel, dressed in white with her hair flowing and a bright light on her pretty face. “She practically flew into that window, so the glass shards cut her everywhere.” 

💥 The boys looked at Present Mic talking, holding Y/n’s hand as he looked at her worryingly. “You just missed her. She was in so much pain, they had to give her so much stuff to make her fall asleep.” Todoroki walked over to Y/n, running his hands through her hair. “I’m so sorry for causing you pain. I’ll never lay a finger on you until you forgive me.” He whispered to you as Bakugo walked up to him.

💥 “Forgive you?! You blasted her with a fireball and sent her flying into a window! You could have killed her if she would have fallen through the window! How can she forgive you for that?” Bakugo screaming, getting all up in Shoto’s face.

💥 “You hypocrite! Don’t blame me when you’re the one who told her to run for it! You would have rather stayed behind the protection of the wall and have her get the bomb, knowing I was nearby, then possibly going with her. No, you stayed there and hid like the coward you are!” Todoroki screamed, causing Y/n to begin to wake up.

💥 “I’m not near as guilty as you! She is in this hospital bed because of you! You’re a monster who hurts people!” Bakugo yelled, Aizawa beginning to hold Bakugo back from punching Todoroki. “How can you call yourself a hero when you can’t protect the girl you love?! You’re a coward who focuses on only yourself!”

💥 Present Mic finally stepped between the two, gesturing to Y/n, who was now awake. Of course, Shinso was the first to get to her though. “Shinny? What’s going on?” You asked, opening your eyes and trying to adjust to the bright light shining down on you. 

💥 “Nothing Y/n, everything is okay. Just some morons who don’t have decent respect. Go back to sleep.” He petted your hair as Bakugo and Todoroki walked around the bed, trying to get your attention.

💥 “Bakugo? Shoto? Come here.” You put out your hand, Bakugo being the first to grab it. “Y/n, how are you doing?” Shoto asked, looking at your beautiful face. Under drugs and horrible hospital lighting, you were still breath-takingly gorgeous.

💥 “You have no idea. Sure, the hospital thing isn’t great, but have you tried this weird air they give you to make you go to sleep? It’s the bessttttt.” You smiled, totally out of it as you looked around. “Hey guyssss. Can I talk to Bakugo? I need to tell him somethinggggg.”

💥 You whispered as Shinso gave Bakugo the death-stare. “I don’t know Y/n, he had a habit of getting you hurt. Are you sure?” Reluctantly, everyone left the room as you nodded, leaving you and Bakugo.

💥 “I didn’t have anything important to say, I just wanted to look at you.” Bakugo nervously sweated as you looked at his face, a small smile on your lips. “Did anyone tell you how pretty you are Katsuki? Man, I’d kiss you now if I wasn’t wearing a mask.” Bakugo was taken aback by your comment. “Really? Do you... like me?” Bakugo hesitantly asked as you smiled. 

💥 “Duh silly. You’re so cute, and when you’re not yelling your voice is really comforting. I’ve had time to think here, and I realize that we’d make a pretty good couple. You’re the beast to my beauty.” You winked, smiling big as he couldn’t help but grin like a nerd.

💥 “Good, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, I’m tired.” Before Bakugo could say anything else, she slipped into sleep. “I love you Katsuki.” she whispered, before beginning to quietly snore. A blush rose to Katsuki’s cheeks and a smile rose to his lips as the guys walked back in.

💥 “What happened?” Todoroki asked, seeing that she was again asleep. “Oh nothing much, just her confessing her undying love for me.” The boys rolled their eyes as they walked to the couch next to her bed, sitting down to stare at her.

💥 Minutes passed until Aizawa brought them food, handing it to them. Shinso was passed out, and Todoroki and Bakugo were playing on their phones. “Here you go. Let’s wake up Y/n, she needs to eat this.” Aizawa handed his husband and the three kids each a fast food bag.

💥 “Agree. Y/n? Y/n? Wake up sweetie.” Present Mic lovingly shook her awake, until Bakugo felt tapping on his shoulder. It was Shoto, gesturing to the hallway. Bakugo reluctantly followed him outside of the room, closing it behind him.

💥 “Alright, I’m sick of it. I’m tired of seeing Y/n soften up to you because you act nice around her. You’re not fooling any of us. Now I’m going to ask you to stop going after her. She’s mine.” Todoroki exclaimed intimidatingly, his eyes glaring into Bakugos.

💥 “I’m not going down without a fight IcyBitch. She loves me.” Bakugo grunted, a small explosion coming from his hand. “Fine then. Tomorrow night, we fight, using our quirks. The first one to surrender loses.” Todoroki challenged him as Bakugo nodded.

💥 There was no way he was losing this.

💥 Suddenly, they both heard your screaming coming from the other room. Running back in, they saw you crying. “No, no! Please don’t make me! Please!” Bakugo walked over to you, trying to understand what was happening.

💥 “No, please. You know how terrified I am. What if I don’t come out?? Please!” Tears spilled down your face as Aizawa tried to comfort you. “Sweetie, you won’t be able to feel it. They use anesthetia when you have surgery.” But nothing was working. You were terrified of surgery.

💥 Two nurses walked into the room, turning a knob to the right. “This’ll put her back to sleep.” She whispered before walking back out. “Please don’t make me! I’m going to die. I’m going to” You stopped talking, falling back into sleep.

💥 Bakugo couldn’t help but shed a tear. He had never seen you cry or be scared, and it broke his heart.

💥 The next hour flew by quickly, everyone watching Y/n as she slept, Bakugo replaying the last moments in his head as the nurse finally kicked them out.

💥He could only hope that Y/n had meant what she had said.

Taglist: @fourteenow @fluffymarshmellowca

[hecohansen31]

Loving You Is A Losing Game

Ivar+WIfe! Reader (Vikings! Era)

Chapter 1; Alcestis.

“Admetos, I am dying. This is my last request of you, so listen well. Of my own free will I gave my life to let you live. I am dying for you, Admetos, but I did not have to die. I could have chosen otherwise”

“Alcestis” by Euripides

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I was actually supposed to write this after ‘To Kill a King’ as a sequel, but in the end I just loved so so much this idea that I couldn’t stop myself from writing in order to wait.

Still I know that this fic might seem ‘similar’ to some others I wrote, so I am very anxious for any feedback you mgiht want to send my way, because as always not only it helps my writing but it makes me write faster!

Have a nice day!

SUMMARY:  Everything in your life is falling apart: your husband might face the extreme punishment for is treason and be executed, and whenever you try to convince him to beg for forgiveness, you are pushed away further, unable to recognize the man you loved.

But soon, more worrying things might come and the only way to save yourself and the one you love is to endure and be cunning.

WORDS: 7,78 K

WARNINGS; Unstable Relationship (I think that honestly Reader and Ivar’s relationship is borderline abusive, even more if set up in the modern era, there is no physical violence, but there might be some psychological one so please be careful sweeties), Pregnancy, Talk of Abortion, Mention of Death, Betrayal, Kidnapping Historically Inaccurate, and Not following the series path.

Life with Ivar had never been easy.

But you had loved your husband with the intensity of a million of suns.

And he had loved you back with the same intensity.

And for a certain time, you had had it.

But then his own raising ambition had gotten in the way of it all.

You had always been part of your husband’s planning but this time you had been kept outside of the conjure that had tried unsuccessfully to take over Lagertha’s throne.

They had been betrayed from the inside and your husband had been taken to the prison cells, waiting for the queen to choose what to do with his fate.

But you already know what it would have been.

Death.

And as much as the wound of betraying hurt your heart you couldn’t deny him your love and your prayers as you asked mercy for him to Lagertha.

‘We’ll go in exile, we’ll disappear from your hands, we’ll…’ your voice had broken down with gentle sobs as the queen quickly ushered everyone outside of the Great Hall leaving simply you and her, as she gestured for you to come closer.

‘Sat, my sweet’ she had mumbled gently, as she had moved a few strands of hair away from your face as you gripped tightly on her hand, unsteady on your own feet and your body shaken by your fear of failure ‘… I do think that I could grant that, but your husband would never ever forget a promise’.

‘I’ll convince him!’ you shouted pleadingly, although you were aware that you had had to lie to Ivar to justify your disappearance by his side, told him you’d be seeing your family to assure their support to his cause.

Your family had been the reason why you weren’t sharing his cell, alongside the fact that you had been kept in the shadows about this entire plot.

‘It was to ensure your safety, my sweet’ had commented Ivar as you had asked him why he hadn’t involved you in it ‘… because I need my small bird to continue on chirping in my ear’.

But you had been rudely woken up during the night by burly men asking you if you knew what your husband had done.

And you still weren’t able to properly sleep, taking the offer of staying at your brother’s house, with his wife fretting around meanwhile she waited for her first child.

A painful sight for you, whose stomach was still flat after a year of marriage.

‘You had sworn that you wouldn’t have done anything till I gave you an heir!’ you had protested against Ivar, remembering your words, when he had allowed you a small moment of calmness from the plotting and avenging.

You hadn’t been inclined on motherhood, more interested in the threads behind battles, wanting to enjoy your youth without having to waddle behind children, like your mother had done.

But Ivar had wanted one heir desperately, since it would have cemented his position as the rightful heir of Kattegat, and you had eventually allowed him.

Allowed him to lay his seed inside you.

But after a year of trying, nothing came from it.

And you felt Ivar’s heavy disappointment on you.

Lagertha’s voice brought you back to reality as she raised lightly your chin for you to meet her light eyes, and as much as you had hated her, always sympathetic to your husband’s cause, in that moment you just saw another woman who had been betrayed by her husband.

‘I know that you’ll try, sweet one, you were always a perfect diplomat, but with men like Ivar, you can’t win the game’.

There was an unspoken knowledge due to her own experience with Ragnar in her words and you couldn’t help but sigh loudly, as you gripped your stomach, the reason behind everything, your failure.

‘… I just… I don’t want to see my husband dead’ you moaned in pain at the sole thought as Lagertha gently caressed your cheeks, before she dropped her hands on the table separating you both ‘… he may be cruel and he has the worst temper, but he loves me and…’.

‘Ragnar was the best man I ever knew’ she commented softly, breaking your own train of thought ‘… but he left me, betrayed me for another woman and that made me think about myself, and my children… he may have loved me still, but… that wasn’t enough’.

‘I just…’ your voice broke down, because although Ivar hadn’t betrayed you with any woman, what Lagertha spoke was true.

Your father, an earl, had been disappointed to discover your liaison with the youngest son of Ragnar, the one he, himself, called a ‘deformed monster’.

‘He’ll only break your heart, (Y/N),’ he had said as he downed another cup of mead and you had dismissed his words as the ones of a drunkard who knew nothing of love and feeling ‘… and I won’t take you back when that’ll happen’.

Your brother had also been cold about this relationship, but he hadn’t rejected your offer to give you to Ivar the day of your wedding.

‘If you are so so sure about doing this, I’ll deliver you myself to him, before you do the stupid thing of eloping’.

And although he didn’t say it, you knew that he despised your husband since you had set foot back in his house.

‘… I know that this is hard to understand, but…’ Lagertha now moved her eyes away from you, stealing a small look at the window ‘… sometimes, love is simply not enough’.

And as easy as that, you started crying fully releasing all the sadness you had been holding in yourself for days, well aware that you were breaking down right in front of your husband’s enemy.

He would have thought you weak to do so.

But Lagetha simply collected your tears as she delicately dabbed a piece of cloth on your face, before gripping your hands tight.

‘… I’ll accept the exile proposition, but I don’t think that your husband will ever accept it’ she proclaimed queenly, although her eyes spoke of sympathy, not pity, of somebody who had fallen in the same trap ‘… in that case, he’ll be executed for treason’.

‘I don’t think that I can live without him’ you mumbled, a few sobs interrupting the phrase as you stuttered it out.

‘… you’ll learn to’ she spoke gently and sternly ‘I did, and I am happy… I have Astrid, a new love will come also for you’.

The last words were a whisper from afar to you, as you thanked her almost mechanically for listening to you, as you exited the great hall with a dreadful feeling.

That Lagertha had spoken the truth.

---

You found out soon, as Ivar threw his cup of mead onto the prison bars, some of it staining your dress, a simple fantasy of fabric that used to be Ivar’s favorite, hence why you had worn it to give him the news of the exile.

There had been a time when you were both younger when Ivar had been enchanted by every word you spoke, even going as far as to do the silliest of things because you dared him to.

You kind of missed that power you had on him.

‘We are equals’ he had spoken on your first night of marriage as he had linked your hands ‘… you are the only person I can see standing by my side’.

And now he just threw a cup of mead to you.

“Are you crazy?!” he spoke, as he dragged himself closer to the prison bars, since they had stolen his braces, thinking that they could easily be weapons.

And you were well aware of how much that choice pained him.

“I am just trying to do my best to keep my husband alive!” you retorted, although you backed off slightly, attracting the look of a prison guard.

Pity in his eyes.

“Oh… and let me ask you, my beloved wife, how did you think that sucking mercy from Lagertha’s tits would have saved me?” he spoke arrogantly as he gripped tight the bars, showing you his teeth as he growled those words “… and worst of all… you come here asking for exile!”.

“You said you would have run away with me…” you whispered softly, trying not to alert the prison guard again, as you crouched down at his level, pushing on hand over his as he gave you an annoyed look.

“Only cowards run” he spoke, as he turned his head away from you, but you gripped tighter your hand over his.

“… you could run and we could plan a better way to take Kattegat” you spoke gently, as your eyes shone with hope “… or we could go to exile and then do the same, we’d be both alive, Ivar, that’s all that matters”.

“No no!” he hit with the other hand the bars, making you choke back a breath as your eyes shone with fear “… nothing else matters till I get my crown back and my mother is avenged”.

Although you were well aware that it was what Ivar wanted above anything else, even you, it never failed to pain you deeply.

“… I don’t matter to you, is this what you mean?” your voice trembled and you also turned your head to the side to withhold the tears in your eyes, as you pushed away your hand over his.

It took Ivar a long huff of annoyance before he replied to you.

“Of course, you matter to me, (Y/N)” he mumbled almost scorned by your question “… but there are a lot of things that also do…”.

“I love you, Ivar, you are all that fucking matters to me!” you shouted, as you raised to your feet, annoyed and profoundly hurt by his words “… all I want you is to be fucking safe, is that so hard to understand?”.

And your husband, almost challenged by your shouts, replied.

“And all I wanted was an heir, but your stomach is still flat, isn’t it?” he didn’t even need to raise his voice, because he always knew how to hurt you and you stood there breathing through your nose as you tried to calm yourself.

“… maybe I am not the problem”.

You knew that you had hurt him as you turned and run away.

You had learnt from the best, after all.

---

That night you were restless, enough to startle awake your sister-in-law who came to check on you, worried you might have caught a fever.

But you were cold, almost frozen and eventually she had given you a small drug to allow you to sleep, but it hadn’t last much.

Your nightmares were too strong and for once it wasn’t the worry for your husband, making.

You had dreamt of him as hanged or without his head, but it was you who was the center of the nightmare of tonight.

You were on a table and your legs were open, your dress bunched up as scorching white hot pain went through you, a few women with no faces but white masks were all around you, doing nothing but observing you, as you pleaded with them to help you.

Help you push out your child.

And when the child was out, another pain shot through you as the child was raised by a man, taken away from your screeching arms, holding out for the child, but your entire body was chained and all the white masks were now laughing at you.

Laughing so loudly that they overcame your screams and as you woke up, you immediately retched by the side of the bed, cold sweat all around you, as it stained the clean sheets and both your brother and his wife came immediately to you, helping you calm down as you continued on shouting for your child.

Eventually breakfast had come, and both your sister-in-law and your brother suggested you paid a visit to the healer, so that you could ask her about the dream and maybe plead with her to give you something to calm you down and make you sleep better.

You had refused their company for the small walk, sure and steady now that night didn’t cloud your eyes, always feeling a bit better when you walked, since it helped you clearing your mind.

But you had overheard them as your brother hugged tightly Tala, his soft-spoken wife and mumble:

‘I should have never allowed this, after father died… I shouldn’t have let her marry him’ and then he had grumbled out ‘… I should kill hm for what he is doing to her’.

‘You had no idea of what would be happening’ had suggested Tala and you could almost see the way she would gently bring back behind his ears a few strands of hair, before proceeding to kiss his cheeks ‘… she loved him’.

Tala and Felix had been a match made in heaven and burned of a soft love that would have blessed them with the typical fairytale ending you had always dreaded.

But now… oh… how much you longed for it.

“… he is a bastard who can’t love anything else than himself” had replied bitterly your brother.

And as much as you hated to admit that your brother was right, you knew that he wasn’t completely unaware of who Ivar truly was.

Maybe he knew him better than his lovesick wife.

You had left them to their own domestic intimacy, as you had moved to reach the healer, hopeful that she would give you something to ease your mind, although your mind was so damnably fast and worried that you had already an headache halfway through reaching the healer’s hut.

The healer welcomed you softly, immediately hugging you as she asked you to join her by her table, to consume a bit of food together, since she could already see ‘that you looked pale and tired’.

“… what happened, little bird?”.

Ylva had been a friend of your mother and she had taken care of you after she had passed away from an illness, caring after you and your younger sister, as she had taught you about your first period, how to calm Ivar’s pain with herbs and how to cure any superficial wound.

“My head is just… messy” you muttered well-aware that she probably already knew of the mess Ivar had gotten himself into and how badly you were reacting, although you hadn’t left the town since the start of it.

But rumors were faster than anything else.

She had been one of the few that had supported your relationship with Ivar, mumbling a simple ‘you are good for each other’ as you had brought Ivar to meet her once, making the boy slightly blush under her steely glance.

“… oh sweetie, having trouble sleeping?” she suggested, always knowing what was on your mind “… and eating from what I can see…”.

Since you had started playing with your food, barely able to eat it.

Lately you had felt like your stomach was completely closed, and this situation had been going on for days.

But you had justified it saying that you couldn’t think about eating when your husband was closed off in a cage and risked being executed.

“I am just worried, Ylva” you mumbled, smiling sadly, as she took the plate from you before she replenished a glass with some water, which was the only thing that you could down “… my husband is in chains and last night I had a rather confusing nightmare…”.

“What was it about, sweetheart?” although Ylva tried to keep her tone light you could feel she was worried.

“… I was giving birth… in chains and there were all these people staring at me, doing nothing but staring and then… they took the baby from me…” you mumbled confusedly, but Ylva seemed to follow your train of thought “… I don’t… I just don’t understand why I worry for a child when I should be worried for my husband”.

Ylva’s eyes became soft and a look of pity was shot at you, as she gripped tight your hand, before another went to your flat stomach, to which you sent a small look, even more confused.

“Sometimes our dreams tell us truths we aren’t ready to discover” she explained softly, as she cupped your flatness, almost groping it in an uncomfortable way “… when have you last bleed, (Y/N)?”.

And then it all linked in your mind.

“I am not with child, Ylva” you protested soundly, immediately backing off, as she shot you a stern look.

“… when have you last bleed (Y/N)?” she repeated, as she gripped tight your wrist to keep you still from raising up “… I could feel the change in you but I didn’t think it was because you were with child”.

“Because I am not!” you were starting to become hysterical.

“Just let me run a quick check” she begged, and you couldn’t help but calm down “… if you are not pregnant you have nothing to hide”.

“… alright” you had huffed out as you added “… I haven’t bled in a month but I should in a few days, it isn’t rare for it to be… late”.

It had brought you and Ivar quite a few surprises.

The first time it had happened, you had come to your husband and gently hugged him, smiling on his lips as he brought you in a kiss, surprised by your good humor, but definitely not against it.

‘… what has happened?’ by now you had been married for three months and all your thoughts were sweetened by your conquests in England.

‘I might be pregnant my love’ you had announced softly ‘… I haven’t bled’.

And a few days after you had.

And no matter how much your husband attempted to hide it, you could see the disappointment on his face.

Hence you knew better than to think the lateness in your bleeding to be an indicator of a sure pregnancy.

“Have you felt sore, both in your breasts and… intimate places?” proceeded to ask Ylva “… you have already shown nausea and uneasiness to eat”.

“Ahem… my breasts are swollen…” you hadn’t given it too much thought, again blaming it on your monthly bleeding “… and I am tired, I thought it to be a consequence of many sleepless night, but it isn’t simply… me being sleepy, I just feel so easily without energy”.

“Sweetie, would you lay down for me?” she had asked, before guiding you to her bed, gently raising your skirt to reveal your naked stomach, lowering lightly your underwear as she softly delivered light touches to your stomach, prodding in an almost uncomfortable way “… you are swollen, sweetie”.

“… it might not be because I am with child” you mumbled softly, scrunching your eyebrows “… my bleeding might also cause that”.

Ylva scrunched her nose as some would do with an annoying child and she moved to dip her finger inside you, making you squeal uncomfortable and she soon retrieved her hand, with a smile on her face.

“You are with child, little one” she replied softly “… believe me, you might not believe it, but I can feel it and the more you deny it the more you suffer”.

“I can’t be with child” your scream sounded so damnably cringey that you also cringed at your tone “… it’s just horrible timing! I have been trying to get pregnant for so long and it… they were merrier times, but then… it happens when my own husband is to be executed”.

“A child might ask for mercy…” consoled you Ylva, kissing your forehead, probably happier than you about this new “… both from Lagertha and Ivar”.

“But what if this…” you gestured to your still-flat stomach, although Ylva had been right when she had said that you were swollen “… if this doesn’t change anything?”.

Because Ivar’s own ambition might come even before an heir.

And Lagertha wouldn’t have had any second thoughts simply because you had a traitor’s child in your body.

“… (Y/N)” the healer softly collected your tears, that you realized solely now you were shedding “… there is an herb, it’ll make your stomach… it’ll make it flat again”.

You had heard of it, many thralls used it in case they ended up being pregnant of their masters.

It did the job well, from what you had heard.

But would have Ivar ever forgiven you for such a gesture.

“… I can’t raise this child on my own”.

Because truth was that you didn’t even know if you wanted a child.

Life had always been so freeing without them and although you’d cherish them playing around the market and jumping on their fathers’ laps, you just couldn’t think having one of your own.

You had grown up as the second child, the first daughter of an earl and your mother’s presence had been overbearing to the point that she had eventually fatigued too much herself and it had made it easy for the illness to creep up on her body.

Although you had never held much love for your parents, you feared such an end.

The end of a woman who had never lived fully, just devoted to children that would outlive her and a husband that would join her after mead did its rightful job.

Had Ivar been with you, you would have considered it.

One of the many reasons why you loved Ivar so much was how there always seemed to be a solution for anything according him and that was why you felt definitely lost without him.

“… you wouldn’t be on your own, sweet child” she promised you Ylva, taking your hands “… there would be me, your brother and his wife to help you, you wouldn’t be alone”.

She ripped off the veil that was protecting you and you couldn’t help but shrink in yourself as you mumbled the uneasy truth.

“I don’t even know if I want a child”.

Ylva’s face suddenly become serious and you were painfully aware that infertility had stopped her from having children and you couldn’t help but think how badly she would judge you for having the chance that she didn’t… and ignoring it so abruptly.

“… my sweet that is…”.

“Am I a monster for not wanting it?” you couldn’t help but cry, maybe it was due to the baby, since it was known that babies made women frail, but you couldn’t help but feel this anguish.

This betraying and hurtful feeling that you were being a horrible person.

“Oh no no, you aren’t absolutely little bird” Ylva’s hands gripped her face gently, bringing your shiny and teary eyes to meet hers, a softness in them that hurt you, because you didn’t deserve it “… you are nothing but a child, stuck in a difficult position, I wouldn’t expect you to be blamed for this choice”.

And she kissed your forehead hugging you tightly as you let out the crying fit you hadn’t been having for a long time, that you had denied in a desperate attempt to appear strong in public.

But with Ylva you were, indeed, nothing but a child.

“… shhh shhh, my sweet, you’ll sleep this over, talk with Ivar and then decide” she suggested, as she loosened the hug, kissing your brow as she helped you compose yourself “… do you want me accompany you in Kattegat?”.

You shook your head, as much as Ylva’s presence was comforting, it was clouding your mouth with emotions you had to shoot down and separate from.

“… if you do decide that…” the words seemed to burn on Ylva’s mouth “… if you don’t want to swell, come here again”.

“I’ll think about Ylva” you promised, kissing her hands as a ‘goodbye’ “… thank you, not solely for your check-up”.

“… may the gods be with you, little bird”.

---

You were jumpy on the road back home, your mind shifting on thoughts about you as a mother.

Would you have looked like your tired mother?

Or would you have looked like a different woman, completely?

The latter thought scared you even more because it opened a variety of possibilities that made you think about the worst that could have happened.

Would you have been a horrible mother?

You weren’t even sure of wanting your own child, but what was worse than that was the fact that you doubted that Ivar would have been a good father either.

A man who forgot his family for his ambition, wouldn’t have raised a happy child.

You were so deep in your thoughts that when a soft touch reached your shoulder, you almost jumped immediately turning to the woman, who revealed herself to be Astrid, Largetha’s lover and trusted soldier.

You had seen the blue-eyed woman a few times in the great hall, but she had never approached you, so you were slightly wary of actually talking with her well aware that she hadn’t snooped in for a quick salute.

“… princess (Y/N)” she raised her hands to show you she was unarmed “… I am sorry to have scared you… I just saw you and thought I would introduce myself”.

And maybe snooped in to know what Ivar’s faithful wife was doing so far away from her husband.

“Thank you, Astrid and sorry for bothering you” you mumbled softly, trying to assume your most innocent smile as you softly bower in respect to her.

“What are you doing so far away from your rightful home, princess?”.

Well at least she wasn’t one for silly pretenses.

“I visited the healer Ylva” you explained softly “… I have had trouble sleeping and asked for some herbs that might help me”.

“… your hands are empty” you almost couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her evident questioning, but simply replied with a sickly-sweet smile.

“The herbs I have been suggested isn’t farmed here, Ylva told me I would have found it at the market” you explained quietly, trying not to raise any suspect in the beautiful woman.

Although you had nothing to hide, her gaze made you feel dirty.

And Astrid seemed to realize it backing off both verbally and physically.

“… can I escort you in the city?” ‘to avoid you buying a plan for your husband?’.

“Thank you, lady Astrid” you accepted softly, offering her your right arm, which she accepted gladly “… how are you?”.

“Fine, although I do have to admit that it has been a busy period”.

‘Because of my husband’ you almost wanted to add but simply nodded softly.

“… summer is almost finished, and everybody is rushing in with the last touches for the harvest” you tried to make polite small talk.

“… and soon they’ll start raiding again” mumbled Astrid almost “… we have been training girls who are just desperately waiting to fight…”.

“Ahhh I remember that feeling of the furious energy before a battle”

Although you weren’t a shieldmaiden having grown with two older brothers had taught you what you needed in the fighting field, and you had fought a few times, whenever your family was involved and alongside that before Ivar started being stubborn and stopped you from joining battles.

‘You are my wife, now, (Y/N)!” he had shouted at you, as you had protested against him forbidding you to take a stand on the battlefield “… everybody will know that and they’ll aim for you to hit me”.

And you had accepted to step behind, pulling the threads of every operation behind his actions.

It suited you more, since your mind was twice as sharp as Ivar’s.

“… oh yeah, I tend to forget that you used to fight, princess” and it would be ever more difficult for you to do it again, if you kept the baby “… have you ever thought to come back to it?”.

A huff pained your lungs as you coughed lightly to hide your uneasiness.

“… I’d love to, but I do think that the gods have chosen my spot to be behind the battlefield” you mumbled softly, the perfect depiction of the loyal wife.

“I was told that you are the reason behind many great victories back in England” she mumbled, admiration shining in her eyes “… your husband, Ivar, never ever failed to shout about it during feasts”.

You laughed, because that was the Ivar you had fallen in love with.

The energetic and idiotic boy that would make you blush because he thought you were the best person ever.

His beloved (Y/N).

Sometimes you asked yourself if marriage had been what had ruined it for both of you and him.

You had married each other just after your father had died, you were nothing more than sixteen and Ivar was barely a bit older than you, and your marriage hadn’t born from actual thought but from your own need to show others wrong.

You, your father, Ivar, everybody else.

And although effectively nothing else had changed, you still couldn’t help but feel like with the marriage and the official recognition of your union had put you and Ivar through useless obstacles.

Such as him stopping you from joining the battle or wanting a child.

You had just made everything more complex.

“… you could teach the girls a few things…” mumbled Astrid surprising you “… you are as young as them so your voice will be both fresh and experienced”.

You couldn’t help but listen to your heart pounding at such a proposal.

It was definitely something that stroked your ego and your brain, as you nodded softly, not thinking about Ivar in a cell, or your heavy ring.

“I’ll think about it”.

“That’d mean the world for the girls” she promised you but didn’t push it because immediately you both heard a strange noise, something that low key made you nervous and stood on your guard.

You shared a quick look with her, and both moved to watch each other’s shoulders.

“… do you have a weapon on you?” she asked reaching out for her pocket, but before she could reach for her knife she was knocked back from a man, who you had just the time to look in the eyes, before you were also hit on the back of your head.

And all you could was tuck and arm over your belly to protect the child you didn’t know whether you wanted or not.

---

His heart ached at the thought of you.

Of your last, unpleasant, parting.

The way he had thrown accusations in your face, when you already were already hurt for everything that had happened.

Because of him.

And not because of you.

But you had wounded his ego.

You had suggested him to just flee like a coward, leaving his mother unavenged and his rightful territories.

But yet, would it have been worth it?

He wasn’t scared of his death.

He had almost longed for it on certain days, when pain was all he knew.

But with you in his life he couldn’t help but think about what would have happened to you as a widow.

You’d move on certainly after his death, you were smart enough to live on your own but, not only the thought of another man having you made him go crazy, but he knew the pain you’d go through.

And if there was one thing that Ivar hated more than anything was to see you in pain.

But his blind pride offered no other solution.

And being stuck in a prison cell didn’t help.

What would have made the difference was you being pregnant.

An heir would have stabilized his position on the throne.

Lagertha’s claim was weak and bloody, and an heir such as Bjorn was problematic to say the least since it could have had many repercussions, because of his wandering ways.

But Ivar with his strong mind and his victories, and a healthy baby to continue the succession would have been far more accepted.

But that blessed child had never appeared, in over a year of wedding, something that was starting to get on his own damnable nerves, although he didn’t blame you, fully, you were healthy and young.

He was the problem.

Maybe his prick might work with you, but his seed certainly didn’t, not taking its seat in you and blossoming in a baby, something that was a motive of shame for him.

What would others think of it?

But maybe it was some kind of ‘blessing’: the gods didn’t want any more cripples.

Whatever it was, it had made him snap at you, and with the look of disappointment you had sent his way, he doubted that you’d ever come back to discuss again with him, even more since you had spoken the silent truth.

That maybe he was the fault.

That maybe he was the origin of all your problems.

While he was saddening himself with all the bad thoughts he could find, suddenly he heard a noise and immediately turned to see in what the hell the prison guard had stumbled, but as he turned to look around, he saw the guard…

… a bloody hand at his ripped throat and behind him a big silhouette, which quickly stole the keys to the prison, and Ivar rushed to grab the small pointy wood he had shaped during these days of boredom.

But the man inched closer to him calmly.

“Ivar…? Ivar, son of Ragnar?” he called out and Ivar didn’t know whether to make his presence known or not, but in the end, he inched closer to the prison bars, hiding carefully the pointed wood stick.

“… who is asking?” mumbled Ivar as he heard the familiar sound of a key slipping through a hole as the prison bars were opened for him.

“I work for Gustaf The King” replied the burly man, as he pushed the bars away, actually freeing Ivar and before he could continue, the pointy stick was stabbed in his guts and he immediately rushed to steal his sword to him, cutting his throat open.

The man tried to close the gap, but he fell beside Ivar, who he had the time to steal the keys before they were dipped in blood.

“… well I don’t know whoever that asshole is, but this is my fucking city”.

He had proceeded to free all his fighters and had challenged any men of this fucktard Gustaf, although they might have thought he would fight against Lagertha, he wouldn’t support any stupid conqueror coming for city.

Even more when his wife was in it.

(Y/N) knew how to fight, he knew it.

But in cases like this, his worrying nature got the best of him and he desperately fought with anybody who might stand as an obstacle, eventually coming to the great hall where everyone was stored inside, coming even shoulder to shoulder with Lagertha and her shieldmaidens, as they contrasted with her the threat.

Eventually the men moved in retreat, or at least what had remained of the people Lagertha and Ivar had spared, more in an attempt to send a message than for actual mercy.

“… what are you doing out of your cage?” asked Lagertha, not lowering her weapons and Ivar keeping them up as straight as he could cradling on the ground as he looked through the shieldmaidens line, hoping to find your face, but no one was quite like you.

He hoped you had had the good sense of hiding in the great hall.

“They freed me, thinking that I could have helped them, but I didn’t” he replied, as he gave his men order to relax, Lagertha doing the same, as she turned, proving herself to be vulnerable.

… all he would need was a to raise his sword…

But not before he saw you inside and safe.

“… I won’t say ‘thank you’ for what you did” mumbled Lagertha, opening the big door of the great hall.

“Wasn’t expecting you to” he replied harshly, his eyes immediately ranking over the figures in the great hall.

Hadn’t you been pissed with him, you would have probably moved to hug him, coming at him and tripping him, as you did when you were younger, smirking softly at him.

‘You took your time, cripple’ you would say, and then kiss him on the lips so damnably softly that he would have felt the need to deepen the kiss in an almost desperate way, to prove that you were alive and breathing beneath him.

But you were pissed so he didn’t expect you to come to him.

But he didn’t see you.

And then he spotted Tala, your sister-in-law, she held her pregnant bump with a pure look of fear in her face, which wasn’t eased as Ivar came closer to her, completely bloodied, so he tried his best to remember to be nice with her.

Tala, unlike your brother, had always been nice to him, a bit obtuse but nothing so bad.

“… Tala…” he shook her gently, trying to avoid touching her on her hips, knowing that soon-to-be-mothers could be quite fierce, when their children were touched “… where is my wife? Where is (Y/N)?”.

“(Y/N)?” for a minute Ivar thought she was too confused to speak and his anger flooded his insides, but then she blurted out “… she went to see the healer, had strange dreams… and retched”.

Which wasn’t a good thing, but it was better than to know that those brutes had done something horrible to you.

You were probably at Ylva’s, chatting and gossiping, but then something caught his eyes as he thanked Tala, and her husband, your brother, moved to take care of her as she slumped down in his arms, exhausted.

He gave no look at Ivar and he was thankful for it.

Your brother had always been fiercely protective of you.

What caught his eyes was the way Lagertha moved around worried.

“… have you seen Astrid?” he heard her utter and suddenly a doubt went through him.

What if Astrid wasn’t the only one missing.

What if…

“Who is this Gustaf The King, who tried to take Kattegat?” although the attack had been damnably chaotic and he could definitely see that who they had fought against were unproper warriors, he could also see the strategy behind it.

This had all been a distraction, but for what?

“He is…” Lagertha seemed almost out of breath due to the worry in her voice “… is a small lord, but he has been calling himself king because he has been rallying a few rebels from different areas, promising them glory”.

“And why didn’t you notify us of this?” because he hadn’t heard of this, and it had passed more than three months since he had last come back from England “... this seems like a threat”.

“He is nothing more than a small lord and has an unorganized army, it is nothing to worry” now her tone was a challenge, as if she wanted to quickly shut up Ivar’s mouth, but he was a fretting husband with a missing wife “… why aren’t you back in prison?”.

“Because I just saved your ass, although you won’t admit it”.

As much as Lagertha’s army was strong, the help of his had been substantial to it all.

Lagertha didn’t admit but let out a huge huff of air, before a small shieldmaiden barged through the huge doors, immediately moving to Lagertha who took in her worried.

“Gyda, what happened?” she asked softly, brushing away a few of her hair drenched in sweat “… is everything…?”.

“I wanted to speak with Astrid after out training” her voice was breathless but loud enough for also Ivar to hear her “… she told me she would be back in the city but when I came on the road to be back in Kattegat, I…”.

And instead of completing the phrase she exited Astrid’s knife, a beautiful polished thing, almost as deadly as the woman who held it and what was attached to it, scared even more Ivar.

The queen pendant he had gifted you the day before you had come back to Kattegat, when you had sealed your deal with evil: an heir for a truce.

He had secured the small necklace around your neck, the heavy pendant dipping between your breast, as you kept your eyes closed waiting for the surprise Ivar had promised you, and as he told you to open them, you had gripped the pendant, in your hands.

‘… you do know that us girls like things that shine don’t you’ you had mumbled faking disappointment, as Ivar just huffed annoyed, setting himself beside you on your shared bed ‘… I am joking, Ivar, it’s beautiful, but…’.

‘You are the queen, and I don’t mean it simply as a promise of what I’ll make you become, once Lagertha is off the throne…’ you had then taken his hands softly in yours.

‘… I don’t need a promise of a title or a crown to be happy with you Ivar’ you had mumbled softly, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand, as you moved forward for a kiss, but he pushed himself back, pleading you to let him continue.

‘… but also because the queen is the strongest piece on the board, the one who can do everything and the true source of the king power, which is what you are also to me, you aren’t a ‘pawn’ or an ‘horse’, you are the sole queen, and I hope this’ll remind you of it’.

And as you had been moved by his discourse, you had hugged him tight, mumbled in his ear about ‘how sappy he could be with you’ as he protested, trying to reject the hug.

‘… I’ll never take it off, Ivar’.

And the fact that you didn’t have it in you, was a terrible sign.

You couldn’t have just disappeared.

Where could you have gone?

---

As you woke up, your head pained you more than anything else, and you almost thought that you had just woken up from another nightmare.

One in which you hadn’t been kidnapped alongside Astrid.

But sadly, it wasn’t a nightmare.

You weren’t on earth, since you could feel movements under your ass, ad as you raised your head you found out that you couldn’t see the sky, but you were trapped under a wooden roof.

Everything certainly making it seem like you were trapped in a boat.

Your hands were bound alongside your feet and as you turned you found Astrid beside you, immediately taken aback by the fact that you were awake, as she rushed closer, dragging her body around the pavement.

“… are you awake, (Y/N)?” she called out to you, whispering lightly.

“Yes, I am simply…” your head fought to stay lucid as you found your words being slurred and a sudden nausea hitting you up, even stronger than your headache “… my head hurts as if it had been used to be kicked around”.

“They hit us pretty strongly” she explained with a sad smile “… I do think that I’ll have a big bruise where he hit me”.

“Where are we?” you asked, rushing in as you tried to break free from the rope, but it was tight enough to hurt your wrist and when you had been tied, you hadn’t been able to use any trick to make your hands seem bigger, swollen.

You looked around to find something sharp but not only the room was extremely dark, but you couldn’t move much, again the nausea making you dizzy.

“… a boat, from what I can hear, but I don’t know much more…” she sent you a meaningful look “…I am sorry, I tried to make some noise, but they seem d…”.

As she was finishing talking, you both heard footsteps and protests being shout as you both moved away from each other, trying to assume innocent poses, as much as your nausea could allow you to.

You were biting your tongue till blood crept out, enough to distract you from the need to retch on your feet.

And then men appeared behind the door on your left, letting a bit of light in, as they dragged alongside themselves candles, and if it was already night… you were rather far away from Kattegat.

And there it hit you, as the adrenaline left you and you realized that you were lost.

The men were three and they approached with strong steps shutting any other sound and coming closer to you both, as a man, a beauty in gold with a strong face and a proud jaw, gently crouched down to you.

As if he almost wanted to comfort a scared animal, holding out a hand for your face, as he checked you, before asking.

“I fucking told Eric to only grab the queen’s bitch, but he also grabbed you” he spoke slowly, so that each word destroyed you completely “… so tell me, little girl, who the fuck are you?”.

“A no one” you replied, breathing out your answer and Astrid was smart enough not to contradict you.

As the wife of a prince you were valuable for any exchange, and you had learned long ago that if you were captured, you should have never ever revealed your true identity for the wellbeing of your husband.

“… a pretty no one” muttered a fat soldier beside him, probably the Eric who the blond man was talking about, as the he tightened the grip on your face.

“… we won’t keep whores here” muttered the other unknown man, who held the candle, bringing it closer to your face and suddenly some kind of look of recognition showed on his face.

And you got worried.

“… but she isn’t a simple whore, she is Ivar The Boneless’ whore” he muttered as on the blond man’s face appeared a bright smile, turning to a relieved Eric and you couldn’t help but feel again the need to retch, but this time it wasn’t because of a bodily reaction “… when I fought back in England I always saw her perched on that fucking lucky son of a bitch of a cripple… and you know what is worse?”.

“… no, tell me” the look on the man’s face brightened, almost victoriously as you tried to hide your fear.

“… he fucking loved her”.

Only there and then the blond man abandoned the grip on your chin, but you were well aware that you were thoroughly fucked.

“Eric” he called out to the fat soldier, the one who had kidnapped you and Astrid “… apparently you didn’t simply bring me the lover of a queen, but also the beloved wife of a prince”.

And then a scream of pure utter victory was released.

And in that moment, you did retch on your own boots.

---

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[sanders-specs]

Roman’s Playlist Analysis

A/N: So I wanted to take a crack at diving into Roman’s Playlist and analyzing it to the best of my abilities. how each song relates to Roman, his character, his part of Thomas. I thought about the story arc Thomas talked about and tried to put that together a little bit. 

Now keep in mind this is just my interpretation of it. I could be completely wrong in my conclusions, and honestly I’m interested to know your thoughts if you disagree with me on anything. 

I’m going to leave my basic tl;dr here because this is long as hell. I went into each song so it’s a long read. I’m also going to tag some people who seemed interested in this. I’d say if you were going to read any of the song analysis, to read the last three. they’re my favorite. 

tag list: @viva-la-pluto @nonexistent-username @writingfeedsthedarkestones @such-as-we-are-made-such-we-be

Here’s the story of Roman’s playlist:

We start with some pretty obvious songs that show who Roman is. He’s a huge fan of Disney, gay, he loves Broadway and wants to be famous. He’s a hero, someone who will vanquish his foes and come out victorious! He has big dreams, and he’s determined to make them come true! He’s got high expectations, both for himself and for a future romantic partner. He’s confident, determined, sassy, and a huge diva.

Then we go a little deeper. He’s lonely, he’s desperate for love. He wants someone in his life. He wants to achieve his dreams so badly, but he has doubts. He’s unsure of himself. Both as a performer and as a lover.  He’s unsure of his place among Thomas’s sides, if he’s important to them. He’s just really afraid, underneath it all. He’s so, so scared of possible failure, of letting Thomas down.

But he still wants to be the leader for the actors and singers and creators following him. He wants to show them that you can get back up again and take off after your dreams.

And then he decides that he wants to be the one to go after his dreams. really, truly, fully. He’s lonely, he’s scared of failure, but he doesn’t want to let that hold him back anymore.

Okay let’s start with the very first song on the playlist, A Gay Disney Prince.

So this one will be pretty obvious for everyone. Roman is a prince, Thomas is gay (ergo Roman is gay). Roman loves Disney. I would’ve been very confused if this song didn’t make it onto his playlist. I would’ve had to gotten through my social anxiety to ask them why. But they have it on there, so I don’t have to.

My interest lies in the fact that it’s the first song on there. Thomas said that while putting together to playlist, they were trying to make it like a story—a beginning, a climatic middle, and an end. So to start off with this song honestly makes a lot of sense to me.

Most kids walked through life but I sang and danced

… Everyone around me could see That Disney meant everything And as I grew up Disney did too

It starts with talking about Thomas (we’re going to talk mostly about Character Thomas, since in this context it feels a little weird to talk about Roman as if he wasn’t apart of a person) growing up loving music and Disney. So we’re starting from the beginning here, talking about when Thomas was younger. And as he grew up and his love of Disney did too, so did his realization of his sexuality. This song, as originally intended by (real) Thomas and Joan is that growing up as a gay man would have been a lot easier had Disney had that representation.

Disney don't shoot so straight You're in the musical scene --- A guy who likes guys who is still humanized in his Film! ---- Try the gay stuff, it's delicious! Please give us more than this bullshit Yeah, that's a bit screwy Makes me say Lefouey Put me in a film Gee, that would be swell --- Who is that prince I see? Very straight, unlike me

And then the stanza that really ties it all together: If only I'd had you in my early years I might have seemed less weird to my non-queer peers Who'd mature into parents, understanding and warm Knowing hetero-ever-after doesn't have to be the norm If they'd have seen

Someone like me

A gay Disney prince

Roman (C!Thomas) longs to have had that understanding as a child, to have that representation in the movies and songs and characters he loves so much. Roman is the side of hopes and dreams and romance. This one falls under the hope category, even though he is all grown up now, he still yearns to see a true gay Disney prince for that validation.

So we start simultaneously in Thomas’s childhood as well as him in the present. At least, the part that Roman cares the most about. Really who he wishes he could be.

 Now onto the next song, Wonder Boy. Now, I know this is from a musical (appropriate), and one that I know next to nothing about, so I’m just going to go off the lyrics. Forgive me if I overlook something related to the plot of the show.

This song is one that highlights Roman’s need to be a hero.

High above the mucky-muck Castle made of clouds There sits Wonderboy Sitting oh so proudly

He wants to save the day! Concur the villain! Wonderboy is someone who sits above all and has all these powers to help him with this conquest!

The song goes on to talk about Wonderboy’s arch-nemisis, Nastyman, who has all these powers that make him on level with Wonderboy.

Now it's time for me to tell you about Young Nastyman Arch-rival and nemesis of Wonderboy With powers comparable to Wonderboy What powers you ask? I don't know how about the power of flight That do anything for ya? That's levitation, holmes How about the power to kill a yak From 200 yards away With mind-bullets That's telekinesis, Kyle How about the power To move you

Reminds ya a bit of Roman and Virgil huh? Roman is able to have a very big influence on Thomas. He literally holds Thomas’s hopes and dreams and everything he wants to do with his life. Virgil, on the other hand, can stop Thomas from achieving those dreams out of fear. He can be louder than Roman, get Thomas’s attention easier, make Thomas pay attention to him.

It’s interesting to me that in the song, Wonderboy and Nastyman end up joining forces in the end. It reminds me a little of Accepting Anxiety and Moving On, when Roman has to accept the fact that he has to work with Virgil in order for Thomas to be successful. He “joined forces” with the “villain” in order to be “victorious.” Well Wonderboy and Young Nastyman joined forces They formed a band the likes of which had never been seen And they called themselves Tenacious D That's right

Oh Take my hand Young Nastyman And we'll fly Bring out your broadsword There's the Hydra Slice his throat And grab his scrot' You take the high road I'll take the low

In the end, Roman learned that Virgil not only helps Thomas a lot, but works well with him in order for Thomas to create as well as he does. The “bring out your bradsword/there’s a Hydra/Slice his throat” part, to me, in the context of Roman, shows that he’s handing some of the control—and the glory—to Virgil. He’s letting Virgil help and working with him, like a team in a fantasy story learning to work together and finally finding how they work as a team.

 And now…Disney Princess.

I love this song. It cracks me up. I think Thomas had it on one of his monthly playlists and that’s how I found it, but I love it so much. I’m so glad it’s on this playlist.

This song is chock full of satire. they take the ridiculous parts of the movies and put them in the song. And seeing as this comes after the Wonderboy song, you could honestly draw a comparison to The Dark Side of Disney which is really the first time Roman realizes he actually has something in common with Virgil, the supposed villain. It’s got the same kind of sarcasm that Virgil adopts in that video with the movies.

But there’s also a bit of wistfulness in it, because, yeah, the Disney princesses are the stars of Disney. The princes didn’t get a couple of cameos in the second Wreck-It-Ralph movie that Disney over-sold. As ridiculous as the situations the princesses went through at times, they do all have these amazing abilities and experiences.

If I were a Disney Princess I would have everything at my fingertips

---

And I wish I could be a Disney Princess So I could fight the Mongolian army

---

I could cry life saving tears I could resurrect dead men with my tears

--

Mulan, I wanna be you So that I could have a sassy dragon I want a sassy dragon

The song also makes it clear that they want all the good stuff that comes with being a Disney Princess. The attention, the powers, highfiving the ocean.

Also sassy dragon. We all want a sassy dragon in our lives.

I can see how Roman would hear this song and relate to it. Circling back to the first song, there’s no prince out there he can relate to, so he projects onto the heroines, the princesses. They always get the man, after all.

Then there’s this las verse, which I think is the most Roman out of the entire song.

I wanna be a Disney Princess And if I were I'd take no recess to spread the warmth and love It's the best way to live your life I'd be a handsome man's wife And we'd kiss, and we'd kiss, and we'd kiss it’s full of wistfulness and is really the only verse in the song that is more positive and not as sarcastic. Not only that, but it’s romantic as well. Replace wife with husband and you’ve got one of Roman’s biggest dreams: to find the [second] most handsomest prince in the world.

 Broadway Here I Come!

From the brief research I did, this is a song from a musical TV series. I’m not going to go too much into it’s original context. And if you’re triggered by sensitive material, I suggest you don’t look it up either.

So in this song, it’s another pretty obvious Roman song. It talks about wanting to be on Broadway, to be famous, to be known, and how hard that success is. For any musical theater performer, Broadway is the ultimate goal. For someone like Roman, who does crave that success and fame, this song is almost like his cries of longing for it.

It shows how hard it is to make it. To be known and gain that success, and how even though some make it look easy, it’s actually very hard.

See I've been bravin' crazy weather Drownin' out my cries I pull myself together I'm focused on the prize

---

The people all are pointing I bet they'd never guess That the saint that they're anointing Is frightened of the mess But even though I fear it I'm playin' all my cards

It’s also got this hopefulness in it. Like the singer has no doubt that they’re going to make it. But there’s also some doubt. Will they still be the same person? Or will they change dramatically?

Will I remain the same, or will I change a little bit? Will I feel broken or totally complete? Will I retain my name when I'm the biggest, hugest hit? Or will I blend in with the rest of the street?

Roman, as much as he acts heroic and like he fears nothing, wants nothing more than to be known, be given the validation, to show off his talents. He knows he’s good, he knows he’s got what it takes, but it’s  hard for him to get there. Maybe even to have the confidence to get there. People have to like him in order for him to have all that. They have to like his ideas, his talents. Without their validation, Thomas can’t succeed. Roman can’t succeed.

 On to Hallelujah. No, not the amazing Jeff Buckly song (though this song is pretty amazing and catchy).

This one kinda ties in with the last one. It talks about wanting to be someone, wanting to be super star. And having people doubt that, even your own family. Also being inspired by other artist and the creations they make.

 I heard it on the radio On my way back home That I'm gonna be someone I guess it was a song they wrote Saying don’t go slow 'Cause you're gonna be someone

--- Some days I don’t think my momma thinks I'm good enough to be a superstar But one day I will show her I'm a diamond in the rough, I'll be a superstar

It also throws that doubt in their faces. It kinda hints that their doubt only makes them want to succeed even more.  

'Cause there's a crown Covered in glitter and gold I'm gonna wear it, whether you like it or not Yeah, there's a crown Covered in glitter and gold I’m gonna wear it, whether you like it or not And I’ll be singing Halle-halle-halle-halle-halle-hallelujah Halle-hallelujah Whether you like it or not

Also, no, I’m not going to ignore the ‘there’s a crown covered in glitter and gold’. Give Roman a glittery gold crown 2020.

But yeah, it really goes with the previous song. It matches the theme of Roman wanting to be famous, wanting Thomas to be famous and known. To wear that crown, no matter what anyone else says. No matter what they think, or how much they believe in him. It goes against the doubt in the last song, but don’t we all have those moments of doubt, then confidence, then doubt again? Our confidence can wavier and surge just as much as our anxiety.

 Holding Out For A Hero. Ah, what a great song. Still should have been the Shrek 2 version because man could I have made some comparisons, but oh well.

So here we’ve taken a break from the dreams part and gone back to the hope and romance part. This song is pretty self-explanatory. The singer is looking for a partner who will be, well, their hero to come rescue them.

Now, I’m not sure if the intention for the inclusion of this song was that Roman would be that hero, if he is also waiting for that hero, or a bit of both. He is very save-the-damsel-in-distress type of prince archetype after all. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants a prince who matches his own heroic ideals and who would treat him the same. It also says a little something about his standards. He won’t let Thomas settle for just anyone. He’s got to be perfect (Roman’s standards of perfect, anyway).  

Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods? Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds? Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed? Late at night I toss and I turn, and I dream of what I need I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight I need a hero I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light He's gotta be sure, and it's gotta be soon And he's gotta be larger than life Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy Somewhere just beyond my reach, there's someone reaching back for me Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat It's gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet

Yes, I had to include the entire first part of the song. I honestly feel like it sums up Roman’s standards pretty well. He won’t settle for anything less than superman or Hercules himself.

On the other hand, it could be Roman’s standards for himself as well. He has to be that Superman, the savior of all those in trouble and be the dashing white knight. Just as he holds his talents up to high standards, he holds his entire self up to high standards (his…part of the personality?). His actions, his thoughts, his ideas. Everything has to be perfect. He has to be the hero to everyone around him.

 If I Dare is so fucking beautiful. Sara Bareilles has such a pretty voice.

I love the message in it too. It’s such a strong “fuck off and watch me” song.

Which, you know, also goes with Roman. It ties in well with Hallelujah. It follows the same themes of people doubting the singer, and the singer basically saying “hold my purse” and going to prove their doubters wrong.

This song is basically saying, dare to hold yourself to higher standards than what others hold you to. Dare to do more than what you thought you could, because you really can surprise yourself.

Seriously just really listen to this song, it’s so empowering. I’m literally going to leave most of the lyrics, aside from the repeating ones. It’s so fucking great.

If I dare to ask it, then I dare it to be true If I dare to risk it, then I know that I'm willing to If I dare to want this, to want more than I have Then I dare to believe I'll have it in the end You climbed the mountain, sent pictures of the view And still can't believe when I started climbing, too You haven't heard that I'm not afraid to fall That I'm not deterred yet until I tell them all I am holding out for more than what I have now I'm holding out I don't want your pity, I won't use your little scraps I don't build my cities with what could get taken back I don't need permission to rise up when it hurts You don't have to listen, but you'll hear me Mark my words When the room gets dark, and I am quiet There's a voice that's soft, like someone's silhouette Saying, "Don't let me go yet" If I dare to ask it, then I dare it to be true (Believe me, I will be) If I dare to risk it, then I know that I'm willing to If I dare to want this, to want more than i have (Believe me, I will be) Then I dare to believe I'll have it in the end

If you can’t tell, I love this song.

It’s got such a confidence surge in it. It also goes with my last point in Holding Out for a Hero of Roman holding himself to high standards. Not only does he want to be a hero to others, and he’s not going to settle for any less, he’s not going to let anyone stop him. He’s not going to let the doubt, the fear, of others influence him. He’s going to take their pity and doubt and use it to make him stronger. He’s going to hold himself to these standards and take his own fate into his hands and be like Merida (no not go on a psychedelic trip with a bear, but good memory). He is going to be the gay Disney prince he needed so much for himself.

 Go the Distance continues the “I’ll do what I want” theme. And I don’t mean that in an angsty teen kinda way. Just in a “You can’t strike down my confidence” kind of way.

Now, the tone of this song, while heroic and hopeful, is also a little softer than the others, so it kinda feels like it doesn’t fit, but the lyrics and meaning of it does.

Hercules is probably the closest Disney has to a Disney Prince being the main character of the movie (having the movie named after him, going into his backstory first, all that jazz). At least off the top of my head. He at the very least is the closest to having a hero song akin to Let it Go, Almost there, How Far I’ll Go, Show Yourself etc. (yes, Elsa’s on there twice. Yes, I know she’s not technically a princess, but she also has some pretty badass songs in what is technically considered Disney Princess movies).

And, I mean, it’s an incredibly hopeful song. Hercules is going out to prove himself, to show that he can be the hero he was born to be. I can see how that is something Roman would look to. How he can relate to.

It also goes along with the idea of wanting to be known and seen. Recognized for what you do.

I have often dreamed of a far-off place Where a great, warm welcome will be waiting for me Where the crowds will cheer when they see my face

The song is also about finding your place, where you feel like you should be. About keeping up hope as you go through the paths to where you need to be. Where that “hero’s welcome” will be waiting. Hercules feels like an outsider, like he doesn’t belong, so he’s searching for that place.

I'll be there someday, I can go the distance I will find my way, if I can be strong I know every mile, will be worth my while When I go the distance, I'll be right where I belong

We all feel like that sometimes. Like we’re trying to find our place in the world. In the context of Roman, he’s in the middle of searching for that place. He wants Thomas to be in a place where he feels like he belongs, where he feels welcomed and embraced. In the theater world, maybe. Or YouTube. Maybe even Hollywood. Somewhere he can flourish, really show what he’s capable of, what Roman knows he’s capable of. But also where he doesn’t have to hide who he is, be it a different part of his talents or his sexuality. Roman wants Thomas to be in a place where people will embrace all of Roman.

And he’s going to find it. He’s going to do what it takes to get there.

 Flamboyant is a fun one. This one delves into who Roman is, the kind of character that he is, rather than what he encompasses in Thomas. At least, that’s the way I see it. I’m sure if roman were the only side there, then, well, Thomas would just be Roman.

Looking at the lyrics and thinking back on the previous songs, this one makes me think that even though Roman wants (needs) people to like him, he also wants to be unapologetically himself. Extravagance and all.

Don't tell me what to do Don't tell me what to say You know I like it loud 'Cause that's the only way No taste for subtlety And no time for restraint No, I go all the way

I think we can all agree that this pretty much sums up Roman and the energy he gives off. We saw him in Virgil’s room. In Patton’s. Subtly is not something he’s very good at and he’s not very good with taking other people’s opinions (or suggestions) when it comes to his ideas or his work.

You always see me putting on a show I entertain until it's time to go

He’s always playing up the prince role. The actor role. He doesn’t tone it down. The fancy phrases, the exaggerated movement, the way he dresses.

At least until he thinks no one’s looking.

 Alllllright now we’re getting into the love songs. Or…lust songs? Is that a category?

Okay, look, I’m ace, sex repulsed, and clueless at times. I’ll do my best here. But looking at the next few songs, it’s not a very happy story.

Jumpstarted is a song that I honestly can’t really pin down what it’s about. It’s catchy, for sure. I love the harmonies in it. But I can’t tell if it’s a love song or has a different meaning that I’m not going to delve into.

But in Roman’s case, it seems like a song that screams love. Roman is a part of Thomas that falls in love easily. He’s romance, after all (and, yes, lust. Remus too). So this song shows how easily he falls, and how easily those fantasies of romance can take hold.

As two hearts started dancing A new story begins

---

To the races, got my love jumpstarted The only one I want is you (Say it again, hey!) I hear the bells, and they're ringing already Four kids and a big ol' wedding, singing "You" (Say it again, hey!) Now as I make the long walk home You got me feeling like an overdose, singing (You)

Thomas is a romantic. Roman is proof enough of that. In Moving On, he’s coming up with all these wild ideas to get Thomas’s ex back. In other videos when they talk about love, he always expresses the most wistful reaction (or overdramatic. Or, well, both). Thomas sees one cute guy and Roman is already planning the next five years of their lives together. Not only does he want the romance, he craves it, so the tiny semblance of it has him running headlong into it.

And your gravity, my depravity won't take my advice (So nice) I never run while I still (Can)

Brave New Girl makes me think that this shows a wilder side of Roman. I suppose if there’s any side of Thomas who likes to part, it’d be Roman.

Also reckless.

Brave New Girl is a song that seems like it’s about someone who is new to the world, maybe a little naïve, but still out to have a good time. It’s reminiscent of your classic collage story. A freshman girl away from home for the first time and embracing the “collage life.” Parties, hook ups, your stereotypical definition of having fun (in the case of collage movies and such).

She wants a good time, no need to rewind She needs to really, really find what she wants She lands on both feet, won't take a back seat There's a brave new girl, and she's coming out tonight

Roman out of everyone else is the side that would really push Thomas to just let go, have fun. Maybe if Thomas wasn’t so introverted, he would be able to meet the love of his life. Maybe if Thomas didn’t hold himself back (or I suppose if Logan and Virgil didn’t hold him back) then they could have more fun and accomplish his dreams. And meet the love of his life!

This could also be reminiscent of Thomas’s coming out? It’s not something I want to try to “analyze” because that’s something personal to Thomas and also not something I’m too familiar with. I don’t really want to step on any toes. But with the song talking about a new person entering the world, and “uncovering [their] eyes” I thought to mention it here. After all, it would be after that that Roman really would get the chance to be fully himself.

 Every Boy is very self explanatory. It’s just Roman being gay.

‘I just wanna kiss every boy in the world’ is repeated so many times, ya’ll. Like at this point you’ve probably listened to it, but that one phrase takes up most of the song.

It’s very much showing Thomas’s sexuality, because again, that’s a big part of Roman since he encompasses romance and sexuality.

It also shows a lot of wistfulness, because Thomas is single and doesn’t have a boy to kiss. Even the tone in the song kinda reflects that. He’s lonely he just wants to kiss a boy. All the boys. In the world.

But yeah Thomas really likes boys. Roman really really likes boys.

 Okay now we’re just to the point of Roman being sassy.

Primadonna definition: a very temperamental person with an inflated view of their own talent or importance.

Sound like someone we know?

The song, Primadonna, really just reminds me again of Roman and how he acts and presents himself.

Living life like I'm in a play In the limelight I want to stay I know I've got a big ego I really don't know why it's such a big deal though

---

All I ever wanted was the world I can't help that I need it all The primadonna life, the rise and fall You say that I'm kinda difficult But it's always someone else's fault

The song also goes back to the whole Roman doing what he can to achieve his dreams, in a way. He is going to do what he can to get what he wants, but he doesn’t want to change who he is in order to get there. These last few songs really show that too, I think. The first songs, while showing longing for his hopes and dreams, these are showing that Roman honestly isn’t afraid to be himself. He’s out and proud, he’s got an ego (he is an ego), he’s sassy, extravagant, maybe a bit high matinance, and he doesn’t want to or plan to change for anyone.

 Though…

King kinda has an exception.

Remember how I said Roman falls in love easily?

Yeah, this song kinda shows how that can go wrong. He clings to his loves, we’ve seen it. His refusal to let go of Thomas’s ex really shows that. Of course, there are lot of layers to that, but Roman was just as guilty about making Thomas (Patton) hold on to the hope of winning him back.

And, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh I was a king under your control And, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh I wanna feel like you've let me go

Maybe in this case it means that Roman (Thomas) felt that perhaps his ex did have some semblance of control over him still. He must have, if Thomas was still thinking about him.

I don’t want to reach too far with this comparison. Thomas left the details of his ex pretty vague. But still, it’s the only reason I can think of that this song would be on the playlist. Or the fact that Roman, while very forward and dramatic, can fall under the gaze of a pretty guy.

 Cheap Queen is a song I had to look into a bit to understand it. Cheap queen is “a drag term for someone who is resourceful, who makes something out of nothing, who is a creator on a budget” (this is coming from the singer). While Roman isn’t a drag queen, he would take inspiration from them, and that definition can describe the kind of creator Roman is.

But there are some lyrics here that put in the context of Roman make me think that it shows more of his doubts.

I've been alright I've just been doing the same shit I've always liked (Smiling for the audience) Like smoking and movies and homies who bring me wine I've been going out too much (Queen) And talking 'bout myself too much (Oh, smiling for the audience)

Side thought: This song feels very…1920’s actress smoking in a green room vibes.

Why? I have no idea. Maybe it’s the background audio.

But it makes me think about this diva in a swing dress, a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Yeah, I watch too much TV.

I can be good sometimes I'm a cheap queen I can be what you like And I can be bad sometimes I'm a real queen I can make grown men cry

Something about this verse makes me think that it’s a bit of Roman trying to prove himself? To himself, to the others, to his audience. While still trying to keep up his persona. Again, he wants people to like him, to like what he does. He is Thomas’s ego after all. He wants to please the masses.

 Humility is where we get real.

So far, I think we’ve gone from who Roman is on the surface and slowly dug down. We’ve seen his insecurities, his hopes, his dreams, his more sexy side, his desperate side.

Now we’re seeing the lonely side.

Calling the world from isolation 'Cause right now, that's the ball where we be chained

---

I'm the lonely twin, the left hand Reset myself and get back on track I don't want this isolation See the state I'm in now?

Now I this verse isn’t intentionally targeting towards Roman, complete with the twin part, then I don’t know why it would be on this playlist. He feels isolated. Romantically, socially. Perhaps even among the sides. Look at the point where we are right now in the series. He had to give up on a huge dream with the callback. He’s being put on the back burner, Remus—the side he said is everything he doesn’t want to be—is now known to Thomas which means he has to deal with him even more.

If I pick it up when I know that it's broken Do I put it back? Or do I head out onto the lonesome trail And let you down?

I think he’s scared of letting Thomas down. Of not reaching the goals he sets out for them, of Logan being right. That the path Thomas is on is not one that is right for him. So he’s alone and scared and doubting himself and doing everything he can not to show it

 Following that, Ain’t Got it Like That shows a bit of self-understanding, if I phrased that right?

Roman knows that he’s the only one of the sides who really wants these hopes and dreams for Thomas. Patton wants Thomas to be happy, so sure he supports Roman, but if Thomas were to listen to Logan or Deceit (and suppress Roman, his true hopes and dreams), then he would support them too.

One in a million, maybe it's me The chances of winning are slimmer than three Moving and shaking and makin' it happen Producing and singing while people was trappin' Chasing a dream and living for free A whole lotta people help the hell out of me A job ain't the move, I'm just a musician I followed the path, continued the mission

Roman’s going to continue being himself, doing his job, and trying to make himself heard. Even if he’s lonely and has self-confidence issues. He’s nothing if not determined. And as the song says, “a whole lotta people help the hell out of me.”

One thing Thomas has is friends and family who support and encourage him. They help to feed into what Roman wants and helps to give him the reassurance that he needs that he’s on the right path.

I got soul and a whole lotta songs I get love even if I'm dead wrong And I know that I got what I need Even when I don't got what I want

Roman is convinced he’s right. Look at how hard he fought Logan during their episode. He knows he can be wrong, he knows he’s not perfect, but he also knows that when it comes to the path Thomas is on, he is right and he is at least confidant in that fact.

Look I've thinking that I'm at the limit The fact I need money with all my decisions I want it all and all, I'll admit it If you never had it, I know that you get it They say that everything ain't gold, but damn I mean, I... wanna little of my own I'm sayin' that I know that (I know that) They say that pressure makes diamonds But I just wanna pay my bills on time

I feel like this song really shows that he understands that being a singer and performer is hard and definitely not the easy way out. The is really the only song here that talks about money. It’s hard to make it as a performer. YouTuber, actor, you name it. Roman knows this, but that doesn’t stop him from dreaming and being determined to go after those dreams.

 God I love these last three songs

Do you guys have those set of songs that are like your inspirational songs? Ones that really make you feel good and the lyrics really speak to you and make you want to really go after what you want? Songs of hope. They sometimes make you cry if you think about the lyrics too much.

I feel like those are these songs for Roman. Or maybe I’m just projecting.

Dreamer is another song where I might just have all the lyrics here, because the entire song just feels like Roman talking to himself. Reminding himself of all these things.

Dream, little dreamer Don't care what they say Don't let the pain of their failure Tear you away

The other Sides. Logan, mainly. The naysayers on YouTube, the old friends who don’t believe in him. The people around him who fail at what he’s trying to do. He can’t let that get to him. He can’t let them get into his head. He has to keep going.

You can do anything What would you do if I told you You would always succeed

He has to remember that he can do anything. Thomas is capable of anything.

And well we're afraid of the same things Scared to end up alone Scared that no one will remember our names And well we're afraid of the same things Scared to try and to fail Scared our best isn't good enough

This really circles back to some of the middle songs. He wants to be remembered, known. He’s afraid he’s going to fail. That Thomas will not only not achieve his dreams, but that he will be alone through it all. Not even a shoulder to cry on. He scared of that failure. Scared of letting Thomas down. And through that…Thomas is scared of letting himself down.

Dream like you won't fail Sing like no one's there Dance like you don't care

And I mean you really have to. If you think too much about that failure, that fear, then it can hinder you. You have to move through life like you’re going to achieve your dreams, that no one can hold you back, not even yourself.

Even if you are scared. Even if you do really, really care.

Don't fear, little dreamer You'll get there one day And I know that it's scary But you'll succeed

Don't fear, little dreamer Let them hear you sing What would you do if I told you That we'll always believe

He has to remind himself of all of this. This support, this encouragement, is something every creator needs. It’s the fuel that keeps us going. So having this, in just a song, is so important for him.

And we all Oh we question the same things Why does life seem unfair Why does loneliness hurt so much

This part really highlights Roman’s feelings. Again, he’s lonely in this. He feels like life is unfair, that a wedding is getting it the way of achieving a dream he’s so close to.

And we all Oh we question the same things What is my purpose in life Why does love never seem like enough

I don’t really have too much to add to this one. I feel like it’s something that stands by itself. I can really see how Roman feels this way, asking himself these same questions.

---

You're exceptional You're original So stay true to your soul Don't let them take that away You're magnificent You're sensational And the dreams that you're dreaming will surely come true one day

More reminders that he needs to tell himself. That he needs to remember. He can’t let the doubters hold him back from his dreams. He can’t let the setbacks stop him.

I can imagine Roman having this song on when he’s feeling down. When the weight of all his failures and his loneliness feel like too much. I can picture him hanging on to every lyric, learning them and memorizing them so call on later when he starts to feel those doubts again.

Dream, little dreamer

 This next song makes me cry.

Paving the Runway (You’re Gonna Fly) is so fucking good. It’s so pretty. The piano is gorgeous, the message is beautiful, it’s so soft. I love it a lot.

Okay, anyway.

This is another one that is there for encouragement. A reminder not to give up. Not even when your wings are broken and battered.

Go after your dreams, as crazy as they may seem Go chase all the stars in the sky Baby, I'll be paving the runway 'Cause I know that one day you're gonna fly Darling, stand on my shoulders Up where it's carefree, simple and good Baby, soon you'll be older You will reach higher than I ever could If ever your wings, are tired and broken things Can't see through the tears in your eyes Baby, I'll be paving the runway 'Cause I know that one day you're gonna fly

I can see Roman being tired. His job is not an easy one. He wants so much for himself, for Thomas, but it’s so hard. The rejections, the mistakes, the hardwork going into a project only for it to not do well. It’s enough to beat you down, flood you with doubts.

Think about the songs leading up to this. Growing up without seeing yourself in your favorite movies, trying so hard to work towards his dreams of singing and acting. Trying so hard to find love, only for it to be just as hard. being in this lonely place where he feels like he’s working by himself, not even the other sides really helping him (Patton being an exception at times, but even then, when it came to wedding vs callback, Patton went with wedding).

This is a song I think Roman would really need after all of that.

Another thing I like to think about with this, though, is that Roman is the one singing it to others. He’s been there, he knows what it’s like. He’s got bandaged wings that are still strong. He wants to be able to pave the runway for those coming after him. He wants to be a beacon of light for actors and singers and creators who were once or still are in his position, taking their hand, and helping them up, getting them running, and watching them fly towards their own dreams.

Maybe it’s a mixture of both. Maybe he’s not going to be the first gay Disney prince, but he can sure as hell make way for him, wherever he may be, while still going after his own dreams.

 Now, imagine:

Roman is watching these other creators, all flying off towards their dreams. he take a deep breath and starts running himself.

GO is the song that plays as he takes off with his own bandaged and tattered wings.

Why are you waiting for Another open door You've seen it all before GO Exit stage left Lay your act to rest Don't second guess GO Do Do Do Do Do Do, Do Do

--

The fear within Has held you hostage Break free and live

Roman has been doubting himself. He’s been scared and lonely and not sure if what he’s doing, what he wants, is right.

He wants to think it is. No, he knows it is. So why is he holding himself back? He needs to just go, to do it.

I like that this song leaves it off with an ending, but not one that just ends, if that makes sense. Roman is off, going after his dreams. he picked himself back up and he’s off. What is he going to do next? Where is his next destination? Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.

[d-l-dare]

“Jack in the Box”

Is there a loved one you wish was still with you? Perhaps their presence was the one thing that could turn any bad day around. Maybe they were someone you weren't the best to, but you'd give anything to speak to them one more time and beg for forgiveness. No matter what the case, losing a loved one is one of the hardest things any one person can face. But what if you were so bent on speaking to them again that you unintentionally invite a demon into your life?

I struggled to fight back tears as my parents and I had to work a yard sale to sell my late little brother's belongings. My mom and I weren't for it, but my dad saw the way we would obsess over his things and beg for him to come back to us. He saw it was torturing us to see his room that would never again be slept in by him. Of course, we weren't getting rid of the really important stuff like his drawings or baby pictures. Instead, just the smaller things like his bed spread and some of his clothes.

Of course, thrown into the pile were his toys. My parents kept some of the ones they thought were his favorites. Emphasis on the word 'thought', as one of the toys I saw my little brother, Benji, play with was the jack in the box that a mother was bringing to me a the register, her little girl following close behind her.

I wiped my eye as she handed me the toy. I checked the price, $2. She gave me the money and took the toy. She tilted her head as if to comfort me. "I'm sorry for your loss. He'd be happy to know that his jack in the box is going to a good home." She grabbed her daughter's hand and left.

Why'd she have to say it like that? I know she was right, but it just hurt so bad to know that I'd never hear the music coming from his jack in the box from my room and rolling my eyes to it. Sure, I was never really the best sister in the world, but I cared for him too much to be ripped away the way he was.

As the day faded into night, we sold nearly all of his things we'd put up for sale. It still felt incredibly wrong for us to sell his belongings. But the woman earlier was right, it's all going to a better home. It's better than them rotting away in an untouched room full of memories far too painful to even bring back.

*** The next day at school, I was sitting in the back of the class with my hood up. I had my phone on in my hands, making sure it was hidden from the teacher's view. I was lucky she was reading the book aloud, rather than calling on random students to read. I had no idea what page we were even on.

I was scrolling through social media, trying to distract myself with funny pictures and interesting videos. I paused when I saw a post that said something was haunted. I scrolled back to it and skimmed through. Apparently it was on my feed because my mom had commented on it, but it was from that lady at the yard sale that had bought the jack in the box. She said it was haunted, that it would often play it's music when nobody was near it. My mom commented saying it never did anything like that when we had it, which was true.

I was a believer in the supernatural, so my mind instantly went into believing that it was haunted. Was that why Benji used to play with it so much? Was there a ghost attached to it? I thought back but didn't recall him mention anything about an imaginary friend or some invisible person telling him to do things, so that marks that idea off the list. Then something hit me, something that made me incredibly eager to get out of class and tell someone. What if the jack in the box was haunted by my brother?

*** I'd realized that telling my parents wouldn't exactly be the smartest move, as they would think I was crazy and probably ground me for making something like that up about my dead brother. I mean, it was a twisted way of thinking.

However, the following time we went to the grocery store, I was lucky enough to come across the mother that had bought the jack in the box. I had a dumb idea, but I figured I'd try it.

"Hey Mrs. Foreman," I greeted her. She stopped her cart and looked at me with a smile and a polite wave. "Do you happen to need a babysitter?"

She had to think about it for a second but ultimately said no.

"But you and your husband could have a date night away," I said. "I just miss my brother and your daughter was friends with him." I was unsure if that last part was true, but I needed something to guilt her into saying yes.

She looked down at me for a second before nodding. "I suppose I can talk my husband into going somewhere for the night. We don't have a lot of money right now though, so it's not going to be much."

"Oh, it's okay ma'am," I said gleefully. "You don't need to pay me, I'll happily do it for free."

*** It was a little before the sun went down that I arrived at their house to babysit. They were all dressed up and ready to take on the night. They laid down all the ground rules for me, like when her bedtime is and what to feed her for dinner, etc. I had no plan of deviating from their rules, I just wanted to play with the jack in the box a little, so that I might find a way to communicate with my little brother again.

I lead little Sara into the living room and turned on some cartoons. I scrolled through until I found a show she enjoyed watching. I then made my way to her room. I scoured through the mess of toys and clothes scattered about her floor until I found it, the little yellow jack in the box.

I was about to wind the handle when I heard a knock at the door. I sat up and hurried over to see who it was.

I opened the door to find a bulky man dressed in a black suit and a pair of sunglasses.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm from the FBI," the man said, reaching for his badge and presenting it to me. "I'm here to collect the haunted toy from the premises."

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about," I said. There was no way I was going to let him take it.

"I'm sorry as well, ma'am, but the jack in the box must be destroyed. The demon attached to it can only do harm to the people closest to it."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. "The box is possessed by my little brother."

"That's what the Goji wants you to think," the man said. "It latches into it's host and can mimic their actions in order to survive."

"Well, how do you know it's possessed by a Goji?" I asked.

"Because spirits only have the power to lift and move objects. They can't turn a crank and force an object to make noise."

It was unfortunate, but I believed him. I went and grabbed the jack in the box and handed it to him. But not without a deal. He had to bring me with him to show me what he was doing with it, incase he was lying. He agreed and we made our way out into a wide clearing a quarter mile from the house.

"What are we doing here?" I asked. He sat down the box and stepped back.

He opened up his bulky briefcase I'd just realized he was holding against the darkness of the night. The briefcase opened up to be a bulky laptop.

"We are going to try and lure it out with a host that looks even more tempting," he replied. "The thing I have in mind is a werewolf. But I have a remote in my pocket to trap it and bring it back to the office with me for further research."

I rolled my eyes. "A werewolf? Seriously? How are you going to get one?"

He smiled at me and sat his laptop on the ground. He pulled a remote out of his pocket and I stared in awe as the computer transformed into a werewolf.

I glanced over in time to see the jack in the box shaking violently. The werewolf crept closer to it and a stream of green goop floated from the box and into the wolf. The wolf began to shake violently as well before calming down.

There was this green mist radiating from the wolf as it turned to us. "You think you can trap me in this body?" it growled in a menacing, inhuman voice. 

The man pressed a button on his remote and the wolf began to howl in pain as it folded back into the shape of a briefcase. The man went to go pick it up carefully.

*** After we made our way back to the house I was supposed to be babysitting at, he and I sat on the couch, watching some television with little Sara. Or at least that's what we thought. We looked all over the couch and couldn't find her. He and I called for her. We heard a giggle in response. We followed it to her room. Sitting before her was the man's briefcase, open before her and radiating a green mist.

[backtobackbakubabe]

I’m Gonna Make This Place Your Home (Part 7)

Bakugo X Reader 

Words: 3374

Runaway reader finds a home with Bakugo. But will trouble follow?

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

You had gone over the plan over and over again with Bakugo. You had to make sure  it went perfectly otherwise... well let’s just say you had no plans of being anyones prisoner ever again. If you had to go into what Bakugo affectionally refers to as your “Dark mode” to get it done then you would. 

You two along with several other heros were going to infiltrate the meeting the Pure was holding. Surely Bruce had warned them by now that you were coming, but it’s a good thing you can make people see what you want them to. You and Bakugo were going to go in alone at first and try and track down The Puppeteer. Once you had him you’d call for backup to shut down the rest of the party. You had no idea what his quirk was but based on his name you assumed he could control things, possibly people. You shuddered at the thought of another person controlling your actions. 

You were pacing now as you waited for Bakugo to return to your hotel room. He had met up with some other heros in the lobby to catch them up to speed. Your heart jumped when you heard the door opening. You knew it was Bakugo, but you couldn't help but grip your hairbrush tighter. Not that you thought you’d be able to do much with a hairbrush. Maybe you could make an intruder think it was a gun... or throw it at someone. 

Sure enough Bakugo walked in, and he was holding two garment bags. “Kirishima pulled through and got us some outfits for tonight. Hopefully it’ll make it easier to blend in.” You could see how tense he was. He was always at some varying degree or grumpy but this was different.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and nuzzled your face into his chest. “Whatever happens today... Promise me you won't do anything stupid.”

He chuckled as he ran his fingers through your hair, “You mean other than crashing a powerful criminal cult party. I’ll do my best. But I can’t promise anything.” 

You sighed, “I figured as much. I thought I’d at least try.” 

He pulled you back to look you in the eye, “You know its not too late. We can always leave. I heard Mexico is great this time of year..”

“I think we both we could never do that. You’re a hero. Your job is here.” You took a seat on the bed, “Besides they’d find us no matter where we went. We’d have to constantly be on the run.. and that's not a life for anyone.”

He took a seat next to you, “Any life with you is a life worth living.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Who are you and what have you done with Bakugo?”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh I’m sorry I thought after professing my love to you I was aloud a soft moment every once in a while. Forgive me it’ll never happen again!” 

You laughed, “I didn't say I didn’t like it! It just took me a bit off guard is all.” 

He tossed your garment bag to you. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get dressed would ya? We have an operation to run.”

You giggled as you unzipped the bag but gasped when you saw the most gorgeous red dress you have ever seen. “Oh my god! This is beautiful!” You held the dress up next to Bakugo and squinted. 

“Oi what are you doing?”

You smiled, “Just trying to see if it matched your eyes... which is does. Even better.” 

You both quickly changed. You needed a few more minutes to figure out what you were going to do with you hair, and makeup was a whole other nightmare. You had to ask Bakugo’s friend Mina to help you. You tried to follow a youtube tutorial but it was so hard! 

Finally about two hours later you were as ready as you’d ever be. You slipped out of the bathroom and into the hotel room. Bakugo was deep in conversation with Kirishima and a few other people you didnt know. One of them had green hair and the other had red and white hair. They must be his former classmates. He had something about keeping this as quiet as possible to help prevent it from getting leaked. He only wanted people that he trusted one hundred and ten percent. We still didnt know who could possibly be a secret member of this group and he had no intentions of finding out the hard way. 

He took one look at you and stopped talking mid sentence. He left his conversation completely and approached you with an outstretched hand. “You look.... amazing.”

You blushed, “It’s a long way from your hoodies.”

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Honestly I prefer the hoodies, but this is definitely a close second.” His hand very softly found purchase on your elbow and rubbed a soothing circle there with his thumb. “You ready?”

You drew in a huge breath and nodded, knowing your voice would give you away. You were terrified. You had run away from these people for a reason. Now here you are. Running right back in of your own free will. 

Kirishima helped equip you with some final touches. He gave you some earrings that also had tracking devices in them... just in case. You didn't have the heart to tell them that if you were to be taken it wouldn't matter. Kidnapping was their specialty. They know how to be careful about it. You would be stripped of all possessions. But if it made Bakugo feel safer thinking you could be tracked then you wouldn't tell him. 

Bakugo himself had a pen in his pocket that acted as a discreet transmitter. All he had to do was click it and it notify the others that it was time for them to crash the party. 

You started to tremble as your car approached the castle like fortress hidden away in the woods. This place wasn't on any map and was in no databases. To the rest of the world this place didn’t exist. Neither did the organization who owned it. The thought gave you chills. Bakugo’s hand rested in your lap. “One night here and it’s all over. We go in, get our target and get out. We can do this.”

You didnt know who he was trying to convince, you or himself. Your hand gripped his and gave it a quick squeeze before he opened the car door and stepped out. He walked around to your side and opened your door for you, offering you his hand as you stepped out. You had gotten out early and far enough away from the villain base that you wouldn't be seen yet. Now you just needed to wait. 

Sure enough it didnt take long for another car to pull up that had exactly what you needed. Two people, a guy and a girl and more importantly invitations. Bakugo made quick work of tying them up and leaving them for the others to come pick up and question. They were some rich CEO and his mistress. You wondered how his wife would feel when she got the call that her husband was in a cult with another women. You also wondered which news she’d take worse. 

You both finished the short walk to the mansion. Your quirk was tricky. It only worked on a few people at a time and you had to be able so see them. So any cameras would be able to pick you up. That’s why you had to wait and try and walk in with a large group. Thank god this group was paranoid about their identities because that meant you got to wear partial masks. You still used your quirk to make you and Bakugo look like the couple you had stolen the invitations from as a precaution. You didnt know if anyone here would recognize you, or the fact that you weren't who you said you were. You both kept your heads down and stuck close together as you approached the front door. Bakugo’s arm was around your waist protectively. He honestly wouldn't have even let you come tonight but he knew he needed you. 

He handed the guard your invitation not even bothering to make eye contact. You hoped he just looked like an entitled asshole instead of like someone who was trying to sneak in to a party. The guard scanned a code at the bottom and you could practically feel your heart try to beat right through your rib cage. Finally the device blinked green and he was showing you inside. 

You didn’t hesitate as you moved inside pulling Bakugo behind you. There were plenty of people around the entrance. All mingling with glasses of varying alcohol. 

You were taking in your surroundings when suddenly strong hands gripped your shoulders. You panicked and tried to pull away but they just pulled you back. Bakugo noticed but before he could react strong hands were grabbing him as well. Had they really found you out already? 

“Excuse me, sorry if I scared you but we are under strict orders to frisk everyone in search of any weapons or recording decides. Both are prohibited and will result in your expulsion from this event. Now with your permission, may I?” 

You gulped and nodded your head as his hands began to travel down your body. You looked over and saw a man doing the same to Bakugo. His eyes remained on you the entire time. Attempting to keep you calm as a stranger practically felt you up right in front of him. 

“All clear. Thank you ma’am, enjoy your evening.”

Bakugo’s hand was on your waist in an instant almost as if to claim his territory. “Alright we’re in. Now let’s find Puppeteer and get this fucking over with.” 

The meeting was scheduled to start in approximately ten minutes. Right now neither of you even knew what he looked like but you were hoping that he would show his face for the meeting. He is the leader after all. 

You settled in the back corner of the large room and tried to look like you belonged there. There were definitely more members to this secret society than you would have thought. 

Bakugo gripped your hand, “Stay on high alert and let me know if you see anyone you recognize. I doubt they’d have any of their thugs at a high class event like this. But we still need to be careful.” 

You nodded just as you heard a microphone turn on. You looked over to the front of the room to see a tall man in a very expensive looking suit. “Excuse me everyone if I could have your attention. Before we start our monthly meeting I would like to thank you all for joining me. Tonight’s selection is top of the line. Believe me. We’ve worked very hard to bring you fine people the best of the best. My assistant will be passing out pamphlets to everyone before we begin the bidding. As usual after the auction we will be joined by our great leader for a few orders of business and then we will party until the break of dawn.”

A younger boy walked around passing out pamphlets. He handed one to Bakugo but not to you which you found odd. 

Bakugo opened it up to reveal the most horrifying thing you had ever seen. They were auctioning off girls... There were pictures of girls along with their measurements, their test scores, and a lot about their quirk. These people were here to buy girls for... lack of a better word... breeding. It made your stomach turn and you wanted to throw up. Had your quirk not been so valuable you could have ended up like one of these girls. Is this what Bruce had meant when he said he thought you were just another one of the bosses pets?

Your hands started to shake so Bakugo simply stood behind you and pulled him. “It’s okay. Just breath. You can't afford to panic. You need to maintain focus. The only way to help these girls is if we take down Puppeteer.” 

“I want him to pay for what he’s done.” 

He could hear the desperation in your voice and it tore at his heart, “And he will believe me. He will rot in a fucking cell. We just need to be patient and make our next move exactly right.”

So you sat there as girl after girl was paraded on stage and sold to the highest bidder. You wanted to cry. To scream at these monsters for partaking in such an evil thing. These were people, not things. With every slam of the gavel marking another one sold, your grip tightened around Bakugo. He wiped a stray tear from your cheek before anyone could see that beneath your mask you were a weeping mess.

“Y/n. I’m not trying to sound mean or insensitive but you need to fucking pull it together. We are surrounded by the enemy and we can not risk blowing our cover. If they see you crying they will most definitely know you don't belong here. I’m sorry you have to see this, I really am but you need to be strong.” 

You sniffled and used a compact mirror to fix your makeup. When you had finally composed yourself you snapped it shut, “Sorry. I’ll try and keep it together from now on. I promise.” 

You went to turn back towards the stage but someone was blocking your view. “Archaic isn't it? The auction? I wish it could be done differently but not everyone see’s the world like we do. If it makes you feel any better some of them were volunteers.”

You looked up and locked eyes with a taller, leaner, version of Riku. Fuck... This had to be one of his brothers... was he Puppeteer? 

“Hell some of them were cunning enough to make their buyers fall in love and are here tonight as guests. How quickly one can climb the social ladder...” He looked at you with an evil smirk, “And how quickly one can fall.”

Your nostrils flared as your face struggled to hide the disgust you were feeling. It didnt matter though because he continued on his way to the front without waiting for you to answer. 

There was loud and excited applause as he approached the microphone. It’s like he was a celebrity to these people. He waved a few times, giving them all his best evil smile, “Hello everyone! I hope everyone is enjoying the festivities! Usually at this point we would discuss orders of business before the party starts and we all get to try out our new toys...” You could practically taste blood as you but your lip to keep your composure. You knew he was watching you. “But, as it turns out we dont have much business to discuss. There is only one thing... I’ve learned that there is someone here tonight who has taken something that belongs to me... Rather than create a fuss I would like to respectfully ask that this person return what is mine and leave. I will be waiting in my office, with no guards and no witnesses. Return my property and all will be forgiven. If you do not... well I know who and where your little friends are right now. So I wouldn't recommend taking your time...” 

With that he shoved the microphone into the hands of the younger boy who had been passing out pamphlets earlier and stormed off. 

Once he was out of sight your turned to Bakugo but he was already shaking his head, “Nope. Hell no. Not a chance. I’ll go meet him but you will most definitely not be there. I’m not putting you at risk.”

“Bakugo I’m already at risk just being here. So what? You go in alone and leave me out here by myself? I dont think so. Besides if you walk in there without me he’ll kill you, and then all of your friends. At least if I go with you it can buy us time. Go ahead and send the signal before we walk in and that way we can keep him distracted until backup shows up.” 

He groaned and leaned his head against the wall behind him, “You’re fucking killing me.”

You pulled his chin down so he would look at you, “It’s because you know I’m right but you dont want to believe it.” It was your turn to calm him down, “Come on Bakugo. You need to think logically. This could be our only shot at getting him alone.” 

He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “Alright let’s do this... what happened to not doing anything stupid?” 

Bakugo clicked the pen several times as you followed Puppeteer to his office. Your breathing was getting tighter the closer you got to him. Finally you reached his door and gave Bakugo one last loving kiss before knocking. 

“Enter”

Once inside you felt like it was at least ten degrees colder. You had chills running down your spine. Puppeteer sat at his desk with his feet propped up, “Ah, if it isn't Ground Zero and my beloved Y/n. What a treat this is.” He abruptly stood and and slammed his hands on his desk, “You caused me quite a headache Y/n... I didnt know you had it in you but alas you surprised me. And now you've come back home...”

Bakugo moved so his body was blocking you from Puppeteer’s view, “She’s not going anywhere with you!”

Puppeteer laughed, “Oh my poor boy has she bewitched you too? You must know by now that she can control what you see? Who knows what else she’s capable of. How do you even know what you feel for her is real?”

Bakugo growled, “Shut the fuck up!” 

“You must have noticed how weird it was that of all people she chose you! How did she even find you? How did she happen to end up exactly where she needed to be to find you? Your hero agency is clear across town is it not? So what I would like to know... is how a poor, defenseless, ignorant girl, with no money, and no knowledge about how the outside world works... managed to escape a high security prison and make it across town to you... Makes you wonder?” 

Bakugo’s hands balled into fists, “You dont know what you're fucking talking about!”

Puppeteer smirked and started to stalk towards you. “Oh but I do... That is my burden. I know everything... including how to do this.” 

He held out his hand towards Bakugo and all the sudden Bakugo’s body tensed up. “What the hell are you doing?” Bakugo stepped away from you before turning and putting his hand up to your face. Sparks danced across his fingertips just like they did before he set off an explosion. “Shit Y/n! I can’t control it! You need to run! Get out of here before I-” 

“I dont think so!” Puppeteer was grabbing you now and throwing you to the ground by his feet. “There’s only one way we all make it out alive so listen carefully. There is a helicopter waiting for Y/n and I on the roof. Ground Zero... you will let us go or I will make you kill all of your friends who are on their way right now. You will watch as you burn them all alive with your own hands!” 

Bakugo’s eyes looked wild. This was an ultimatum. Fight for Y/n and risk the lives of his friends... or let them go...

Puppeteer picked you up and gripped your elbow, “Y/n dear.. how about you make his decision a little... easier? You know what to do.”

With tears streaming down your face, “I’m sorry Bakugo... there's no other way....”

And just like that you made him see nothing but blackness. He couldn't fight Puppeteer if he couldnt see him.  

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

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[thatscalledtoughlove]

Things Left Unsaid

Pairing(s): Gaius Augustine x MC; Jax Matsuo x MC (Danielle Lee)

Summary: Gaius and Danielle reunite briefly fifty years after defeating Rheya to address the unspoken connection they share.

Author’s Note: No idea where the inspiration for this came from, but I was listening to Overjoyed by Bastille so I guess it was a bit of an inspiration. Thank you to anyone who reads this, I appreciate it!

Word Count: 2k

—————

A voice had been calling out to her for so long, she couldn’t remember quite when it had started.

Help.

It was always the same. Pleas for help. Anger, grief, confusion. Hundreds of emotions scattered throughout the decades, each one belonging to the one person she should never feel any pity for.

“Danielle?” Jax’s voice drew her from her thoughts, and she glanced up, trying her best to summon a smile.

“Mm?”

He frowned, studying her face a moment. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, looking down at the wedding ring on her finger. “Nothing. I’m just…distracted.”

Another life. If we’d met in another life…I think things could have been different.

Danielle sighed. For fifty years, she’d tried her best to put the past behind her. Whatever discussion they’d had on that boat, it no longer mattered. She loved Jax. She was married to Jax. She chose Jax.

But a part of her would always reserve a part of herself for Gaius Augustine.

It was something she couldn’t quite explain. Not quite a romantic attraction, though it was definitely there. More like regret that he’d never had a true friend. Before he left after they’d defeated Rheya, she’d wanted to comfort him. To let him know that she would be there, should he ever need help.

And yet, she had let him leave without that assurance.

Rumors of a mysterious man traveling across Europe helping people was the only way she knew he was still alive. Despite the number of enemies he had, Gaius had survived. She used that thought as cold comfort.

“Adrian asked me to meet with him. He has some plans that he wants to discuss. You okay to stay here?” Jax placed a hand on her lower back, leaning down to kiss her.

Danielle smiled and returned the kiss, nodding as he pulled back. “I’ll be fine. I think I might take a walk later. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.”

Something told her tonight required a walk to Central Park. Every instinct screamed at her to do it.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” Jax looked at her with such a gentle expression, the guilt about who had been on her mind increased. “Stay safe on your walk.”

She laughed. They hadn’t had to worry about any threats for a long time, but she still appreciated the concern. “Will do.”

Once Jax left, Danielle sat in silence for twenty minutes. That voice inside kept calling out to her, luring her to the park. She knew that it would be impossible to ignore it.

With a sigh, she stood from the kitchen table and went upstairs to change. The house was silent. Traffic raged on outside, but all she could think about was the voice that seemed to call out to her. It had been there for half a century. Always present, ever changing.

A neighbor greeted her when Danielle stepped out onto the street. “Evening! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” She smiled, praying this wouldn’t lead to a conversation. “How about you?”

“Mm, okay.” The woman seemed to catch on that now was not a time for talking. “Well, I’ve got to take care of the kids. Have a good night, Danielle.”

Danielle smiled and waved as she passed by. “See ya, Juliet.”

After fifteen minutes of walking, she finally reached Central Park. Most people weren’t outside anymore. It was a particularly cold night, and when she looked up at the sky, it looked like it might rain.

Sighing, Danielle took a seat on a bench and crossed her arms over her chest. She stared up at the sky, watching as more clouds began to roll in.

Why was she here?

“This is nuts,” she mumbled to herself, laughing as she shook her head. “You’ve lost it, Danielle. Truly lost it.”

Footsteps echoed in the quiet night just as she was about to stand, and she whirled around.

The person who stood before her was someone she had not expected to ever see again.

“What are you doing here?” The threat Jax had made rang in her ears. “If Jax finds out that you’re here, he’ll—”

“Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” Gaius smiled, and Danielle felt butterflies flutter in her stomach despite herself.

She shook her head, crossing her arms again. “I’m serious, Gaius. What the hell are you doing?”

“There are things that I have to say to you. I have spent the past fifty years feeling as though we left things unfinished. Danielle, not a day has passed where I haven’t regretted the way we left things.”

This was insane. She had to be dreaming. Because there was no way in hell that any of this could be real.

Danielle risked taking a step closer, raising her head to look him in the eyes. “What is there left to say? I’ve moved on. That night on the boat—our discussion—it’s best not to dwell on the past.” She wished her heart would stop betraying her by feeling conflicted.

She should hate this man. It might be true that he was trying to do good, but it didn’t change the fact that he had murdered her. He had murdered hundreds, probably thousands of people. And if Jax ever found out that she harbored some feelings for him, after he’d had to watch her die by this man’s hand…after he’d had to watch Takeshi die by Gaius’ hand…Her husband would never forgive her.

“Do not lie to me and say that you don’t feel it too.” Gaius stepped closer, reaching out a hand to touch her. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, you have captivated me, Danielle Lee.”

“Stop it.” She prepared to smack his hand away, but stopped when she locked eyes with him. “What is wrong with you?”

His lips twitched, and his gaze flickered to her lips. “Many things are wrong with me.” Gaius rolled his eyes when Danielle scoffed. “I promise that I will leave you alone after this. Don’t worry, I’m not foolish enough to believe you would actually return my affections.”

For a moment, she considered admitting the truth to him. Whatever this was, no matter how messed up it was, it was not one-sided.

“I married Jax.” She felt the need to say it before things escalated any further. “I love Jax.”

“And yet you came here tonight.” The amusement had faded from his eyes, replaced by sad resignation.

Danielle shook her head, trying her best to convince herself that everything about this was wrong. She should have never come here. “How was I supposed to know you’d be here? It’s not like I came here to see you!”

Gaius sighed, tucking some hair behind her ear. “You and I share some connection. I have no idea how, but I can always sense you. I think it happened when you freed me from Rheya’s control.”

“That’s insane. This is insane.” She let out an incredulous laugh, finally taking a step back. “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“You are the Bloodkeeper. A descendant of The First. I believe you are more powerful than you think.” She didn’t like the way he watched her. The longing reflected in his eyes made her frustration grow. “I was hoping you would come here tonight, and it worked.”

Danielle wasn’t sure whether she should slap him or walk away. “Well, I’m here. So say what it is you want to say and then leave.”

Gaius took another step closer, his attention landing on the ring on her finger. “I meant it when I said that I think things could have been different if we’d met in another life. You’re one of the only people who has shown me kindness, even we I don’t deserve it.”

“That doesn’t—”

“You told me to say what I came here to say, so do not interrupt me.” For the first time since he’d first arrived, he glared at her. “I’ve been alive for a very long time, Danielle. You cannot fool me. I know I have crossed your mind too.”

She sighed, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. “Okay, fine. Maybe I have thought about you. It doesn’t change the fact that this, whatever it is, is wrong.”

“Believe me, I’m aware.”

If only she had just gone to bed that night on the boat. All of this would have never been a problem if she had just stuck to her promise and ended his life in the tomb fifty years ago. With Gaius gone, she wouldn’t have to walk around with this guilt weighing on her shoulders whenever Jax told her he loved her. She could go about her life not having to worry about the question of what if.

“I’m sorry, Gaius.” And she meant it. She wished they had met under different circumstances. She wished that life wasn’t so cruel, and that her heart didn’t feel so conflicted.

But they would never be.

“Don’t apologize.” He smiled at her, though she could see the pain behind the façade. “Perhaps we can still be friends.”

Danielle shook her head. “You and I both know that can’t happen.”

“Ah, I guess you do have a point, my flower.”

To her surprise, tears formed in her eyes. Danielle turned away, hating herself for feeling the way she did about this man.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Danielle pulled it out, taking a shaky breath when she saw Jax’s name light up the screen.

Jax: Should be done sooner than I thought. Meet back at home in an hour?

“I have to go.” Her voice trembled when she spoke, the bottled-up emotions threatening to spill over. “Jax will wonder where I went.”

Gaius forced another smile and nodded. “I understand.”

When he stepped closer, Danielle couldn’t help herself. She threw her arms around his neck, desperately pulling his lips to hers. Gaius seemed surprised at first, not moving.

Great. She was an idiot. This was—Oh. He began to return the kiss, a quiet moan slipping past her lips when he tugged her closer.

This was terrible. She was a horrible wife and person.

“Danielle—” He tried to pull away, but she held him against her, tasting the saltiness of her tears as she kissed him like this was the last time.

Because it was.

“Gaius.” She said his name in a breathy tone, running his fingers through his hair as rain started to fall. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

The word echoed in the quiet night, and for a moment, they were the only two in the world.

Rain started to fall harder, and Danielle just pulled Gaius closer. She knew she would regret this moment for a long time, but she no longer cared. At least once in her life, she needed to know what it was like to kiss this person.

Several more texts bombarded her phone. She took that as her sign to leave before the situation became worse.

“Danielle, I—”

“Shh.” She placed a finger over his lips, silently begging him to stop. “Some things are better left unsaid. I have to go.”

Gaius’ shoulders fell, and he nodded, cupping her face in his hands. “Perhaps someday we will meet again.”

“Perhaps.” She tried to smile, but found herself unable to. “Goodbye, Gaius Augustine.” Danielle turned to go, but her steps faltered, and she turned back to him.

A genuine smile danced across his lips when she walked back to him and stood on her toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“In another life,” she whispered in his ear, “Things would have been different.”

As Danielle walked away from a life that would never be, she found herself smiling. The knowledge that they weren’t meant for each other in this life hurt, but she liked to believe that somewhere, in another place, they both had what they wanted.

And perhaps that small thought was enough.