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kabuki-writes · 1 day ago

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Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia

chapter: 6 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: The wedding ceremony with Emperor Geta gives you a first glimpse of what you are going to face, once the title 'Empress' crowns you. Meanwhile Caracalla has to deal with the thoughts about his twin owning you now.

Note: I am wishing you all a 'Merry Christmas'! Sorry that this chapter took so long, i wanted to finish it faster, but i was ill for quite some time and had no head for writing. No worries though, i am feeling better now! A small reminder: Due to the holidays, the next chapter might take a bit of time.

word count: 3.6k

Gods expected rituals and nothing in Rome was more important, more holy and more strict to certain rules than a wedding - especially the wedding of an Emperor. A whole series of necessaries had to be prepared in advance to this special celebration before the bride and the groom were able to stand in front of the altar. From the preparation of the dowry to the sacrifices made to the gods. It all began with the most formal part: engagement ceremony, where the exchange of promises between the groom and the bride's father hold more significance than the words of the soon-to-be-wed woman. In Roman society, being born a female was still strongly bound to ownership. First the ownership of the father and then the ownership of the husband. And even though rich Roman women had more freedom than others, it was still a life in societal chains.

Now that you sat on the floor to your mother‘s feet, you instantly thought about the eyes of that lamb your family had brought to the temple of Juno as a sacrifice. The innocence in its eyes slaughtered by the dagger of the priest. One Life for another Life - yours. Did Juno have her blessing? How could you know right now.

„Mother…?“, you spoke out as you noticed the shaking hands and the tears in your mother‘s eyes.

She was pale as marble, trying her best to keep her face, but you were well aware of how much it destroyed her and your father to let you go - especially when the arms of your soon-to-be-husband were Emperor Geta. As a daughter, you tried your best to comfort your mother, as much as it hurt you too. Your hands took hers, gently squeezing them, while your eyes found hers. "I shouldn't cry, i know...", she whispered and placed her hand on your cheek through the thin fabric of the flame-coloured veil that covered your face. Your body was clothed in a beautiful white tunica dress, embroidered with golden depictions of different flowers. You were shackled by the amount of jewelry - engagement presents of Emperor Geta for his bride -, expensive golden necklaces and bracelets that should depict the status you will have standing by his side. Although you were no Empress yet, you wore a bridal crown on top of your carefully braided hair. One of woven fragrant herbs and flowers, Rosemary, verbena, marjoram, roses, violets, and lilies, to represent fertility.

"My beautiful daughter, even Venus would envy you now. But i had wished that... that you would not have to marry a man like-"

"Don't", you stopped her, knowing fully well, which name she was about to say and you shook her head. It was meaningless to express any form of sorrow or hatred, even if this wedding was a forced one - a trade for your own life and that of your parents. Terrible or not, it would bring honor to your family and in the end, it would make you Empress. A gift as well as a heavy burden, especially given the man that will be your husband - your Emperor. Geta.

A marriage ceremony always followed specific rules, that were meant to please the gods. A scacrifice in the temples of Juno and Jupiter was mandatory, but soon you'll face another significant part of your wedding. As Romans believed the only bride of value was a virgin who had to be stolen from her family, they simulated the bride being abducted from her family as part of the ceremony. You were able to hear the chants and chattering of the big entourage of guests arriving to you parent's home outside - accompanied by a large amount of Praetorian Guards and the Emperor himself. Usually the large wedding feast and celebration would take place at the bride's family home, but given the significance of an Emperor's wedding and the amount of guests, it was agreed that it would take place in the palace after the procession.

Even if you tried to face it with a stoic mask, your heart pumped against your chest - a mixture of excitement and fear. Your eyes closed for a moment, as you heard the footsteps and voices of the Praetorian soldiers and amongst them Geta's, who was the first to enter the room. You were still facing your mother, holding her hands tight, while tears ran down her face. "I am here to claim my bride", the Emperor called out with a triumphant smile on his face, dressed in a golden, heavy decorated armor and a white groom's toga - a depiction like a god. Unusual for a wedding ceremony, but it was a symbol. A symbol of the power and wealth of the twin's reign, a symbol of his triumph over General Acacius, who had no choice anymore than to give him his most precious belonging - his daughter.

Seeing you there on your knees was a sight we might never forget. Even if your back faced him, he could see your curves under the garment you wore and he immediately thought about the wedding night, which was the highlight in his mind for today. But right now he had to calm himself, as he stepped forward and suddenly took you at the waist to pull you from your crying mother's embrace. "Mother!", you screamed as the groom forced you to go with him, tears dripping down your cheeks under the flame-red veil. The tradition dictated that the bride would cry out in pain to fool the gods of the home that she was taken away, 'stolen' before you would have to walk the procession without the protection of any god until you stepped into the home of the groom.

All of Rome had gathered in the streets to witness the procession of the Emperor's wedding. You stood at his side on a richly decorated chariot carried by two pale-white horses. The big amount of wedding guests accompanied your path by singing the Hymenaeus and carrying a whitehorn torch, a spina alba, to honor the goddess Ceres. Normally you would simply walk to the palace, as it was the core of such a parade, but nothing was normal about an Emperor's wedding and especially not Geta's. He wanted to show-off, he wanted eveyone to know how powerful he was and that he was now marrying the daughter of one of Rome's most successful beloved generals. It was all calculated and everything followed a plan, he viewed as perfect. This union was not only a definite way to get you, it formed an even closer bond between his and his brother's reign and your father's role as a military general. Would he ever betray them again, it will also be a betrayal against you. And another calculated side-effect was the use of Acacius' popularity through a marriage with his daughter.

The masses cheered for you and for the Emperor, they wished you "feliciter" - "good luck" for your marriage, some of them even shouted your name. It felt surreal and you were glad that the veil covered your face, while you bit your tongue. The palace, your new home, on the palatin hill looked even more oppressive than the last time you'd faced it. Your heart was heavy and you could practically feel the stare Geta gave you, but also the one of Caracalla, who followed you two alongside your father and mother as part of the wedding procession. There was something lingering in his eyes, something you didn't notice as you were focused on what lied ahead. Geta leaned towards your ear and whispered.

"Isn't it exciting, my dear...? You will soon be the wife of an Emperor, my wife." He accenturated his last words, almost as if he had to point out that your life center will soon be him and him alone.

"How could i forget. Just as i may never forget the true reason, why i am here. A threat is still a threat", you answered in a low tone, provocative.

But the groom simply chuckled and turned his face towards the cheering masses again, waving to the common folk. He didn't really care about them in any way, but he knew well about the power of such events in the eyes of the plebs. And to accompany this wedding, he'd already ordered games in the collosseum and many festivities around Rome in honor of his special day.

"Let me tell you that i rather enjoy those little outbursts of hatred. I will ask you again, once you enjoy all the privileges an Empress has. I can be a generous man, as long as you're not testing my patience. For now, i simply expect you to smile and show those peasants the beauty of their beloved general's daughter. Let them see that the sun is shining upon them in the presence of Venus."

Words like honey and yet they tasted bitter to you, while his hand was locked on your back, not only to stabilize you on the chariot, but also holding you tightly against his own body. You belonged to him now and he wanted everyone to see that.

_______________________________

“Ubi tu Gaia, Ego Gaius.”

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia.”

The words still rang in your head, again and again, even as the music and the chattering of the feast surrounded you. And you still felt the kiss of Geta's lips on yours, even if it was only the beginning. You were considered married now.

Fire and Water. The symbol of life. The moment you stood at the main door of the palace, a matron of honor hold a candle and a bowl of water, as both you and Geta traced your hands over it. He was able to lift your veil at that point, kiss you and carry you over the doorstep - it was that simple in the end. And it had sealed your life forever.

It was necessary and yet the kiss was longer than it should've been as it was the first symbolic union of groom and bride in front of the wedding guests, who cheered and honored them with chanter and congratulations. And even though it was just a kiss on the lips, nothing more, you could practically sense the hunger of Geta, the hunger for more. Of course it had to wait until he got you in his bed the first time, but this would soon become a reality and you didn't know if you were ready for it.

The music and the voices of the people were still a numb background sound as your eyes glanced over the room, while you were sitting right next to your now husband on a lectus, receiving one personal congratulation after another. The palace was richly decorated, even more than the last time you were here for the victory celebrations of your father. Hordes of servants ran around to assure that all the guests had enough of the expensive wine and expansive food, luxuriously presented on a long table with tons of fruits, vegetables, fish as well as expensive, rare meat such as ostrich, peacock and wild deer.

Roman generals, politicians, rich merchants, every patrician from Rome’s upper class had gathered here to celebrate the union between Emperor Geta and his new wife. The wedding gifts ranging from gold, jewelry and silk to exotic animals were piling up in another room, as servants had to walk in and out, every time another guest paid his respect. You gave them your smile and your words of thanks and yet none of it really reached your eyes, as you were still trying to cope with the fact that they now adressed you as 'Empress'. Your eyes went to your parents, which were part of the guests, who participated in the feast and celebrations. But you could clearly see the pain in your father's eyes and the pale face of your mother, who could barely eat something even though she tried to hide her sorrows behind her rehearsed mask of charm and politeness. Their eyes find yours in certain moments and it hurt you the most to see them like this as you knew very well, that your father gave himself the blame for your current situation. But you had already moved on, as it made no sense to cry about the past in any way.

But you were pulled from your thoughts, when it was Emperor Caracalla, who stepped forward to pay his respect to the new wed couple. The twin of Geta with the golden laurel wreath crown on his head was dressed in an ornate that depicted his wealth, expensive embroidered silk in dark blue and purple colors, a stark contrast to his gingerblonde, wild hair. Even though he smiled, you could see that it was a forced one, a bitter smile, hiding his true thoughts. "Brother, i congratulate you and your beautiful wife on your wedding. May the gods bless this union," he spoke out, while Geta already stood up and you followed him.

"Your words mean the most to me, Caracalla. Thank you," his twin answered with a happy smile as he took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Even though Geta came off as a crual human being sometimes, it was undeniable that he hold nothing but a strong brotherly love for his twin, despite them sharing the power. After Geta, Carcalla turned to you and placed his hands on your cheeks.

"I welcome you to the family," he whispered, before he placed one kiss on each side of your cheek.

It was not an uncommon gesture to do so, especially not as a way to welcome someone in a new household - but Geta's eyes were locked on you two as his brother did so. And you were very aware that something was off in this very moment, as you could feel the slightly trembling fingers of Caracalla on your skin, as if he had to hold himself back. He quickly stepped back, staring into your eyes, while a servant rushed to him, giving the Emperor a small wooden box, carved with all sorts of flowers.

"I thought, ... since you'e now the new Empress of Rome, the only present worth your grace would be a crown that truly underlines your beauty," Caracalla explained and opened the box.

In it was a golden half-round Roman-styled tiara with ornamental decorations, well-crafted with every little detail that catched your eyes. It was stunning, even given all the expensive jewelry with which Geta had hung you, it was still breathtaking. A soft smile appeared on your lips, before you spoke your words.

"This is a wonderful and very generous gift, my Emperor. I thank you dearly". Caracalla's lips shuddered, before he forced an almost innocent smile on them too.

"This tiara is made after my personal request. The artist was assigned to model it after the crown that Empress Poppea wore once. The wife of Emperor Nero. I thought you might like the... historical connotation to it".

Your face grew pale, while you tried your best to keep your smile in place. Geta didn't seemed to realize what his brother meant with that - but you did. You instantly remembered the conversation you had with him at the amphitheater, you remembered the way he looked at you, the desire in his eyes, that was still present in this very moment. And even though his brother did not understand the true meaning behind Caracalla's gift, he did sense the tension that lingered in the air.

"Thank you, brother", he instantly cut the air with his voice, his hands softly taking the tiara out of the box before you could do anything.

Geta positioned himself between you and Caracalla, a very clear symbol that even if he tolerated his brother in your presence and might even be willing to allow him much more freedom than a husband would, it was still Geta, who called you his wife now. You were his. So it was him, who placed the tiara onto your head, where it perfectly fit with the half-bridal hairstyle you wore. His eyes lingered on your face for a moment, before his fingers touched your skin as he pushed one of your straints of hair back in place before leaning down to your ear.

"Just a little more time and then I'll have you all to myself", he whispered, before he turned to his seat again.

There was only one step for this marriage to be fully recognized in the eyes of the gods and it was the wedding night - Geta's prize, which he longed for and Caracalla's hell. The reminder he will not be the first to have you, but his twin.

_______________________________

"Say it! SAY THAT YOU LOVE ME!", he hissed over and over again, pounding harder with each word.

His fingers pressed against the neck of a concubine, while his golden rings tightly pinched into the soft flesh. She wore quite a similar attire than you did today, her hair styled like yours, her face at least reminding Caracalla of you. But that concubine was nothing like you, a dull replacement, a vessel the Emperor needed to get the heat and anger off his mind as he fucked her senseless under the eyes of his entourage of male and female slaves. No one said a word, fear was written in their eyes, because they knew it was one of their owners 'outbursts'. They could see how the young woman tried desperately to get a catch of air, while Caracalla strangled her in his psychotic state, tears running down his cheeks as he did so. Instead of his brother it should've been him to marry you, to fuck you, to love you like you deserved. A goddess amongst the common humans, a Venus. He was Nero and you were his Poppea. At least here in his own chambers, he could play out this fantasy, while the wedding celebration still went on and you were probably on your way to the chambers of his damned twin brother Geta. It needed a lot of sex and a cocktail of ancient drugs to numb his thoughts over this injustice.

"I love you-..., my Emperor", the young woman under him moaned with all the strength that she could find in a situation like that, the fear of losing her life all written on her face.

But those words were the ones Caracalla needed to hear. With a couple of heavy thrusts, he came inside of her, spilling his semen into that concubine like he would've done with you - if he just had the chance. His eyes were still shimmering wet with his tears, while he pulled back, catching his breath for himself in this moment. The young woman layed on the mattress in front of him, still alive, but in a state of bliss and shock, her eyes wet in tears as well. She wasn't able to say something, and even if so, she were not allowed to do anyways. Caracalla's ice-blue eyes stared cold at her naked body, freezing in the moment as he tried to still pretend to himself that it was you laying in front of him. But it wasn't you and it hit his mind now. This woman was just another whore he tried so desperately to numb his thoughts with. Yet the voices in his head grew louder and louder. "Get her out of my sight!", the Emperor ordered.

"I don't want to see this girl ever again. She is nothing compared to her - throw her away, i cannot stand this waste any longer!", he screamed with a hoarse voice, still sobbing.

"Where is Dondus!?"

No one dared to speak up in a situation like that, no one even dared to look at Caracalla. Everything that might anger the young Emperor could end in an immediate death right now. Even the slave that always carried his pet monkey around, simply rushed to the Emperor and handed him over Dondus in silence, before retreating as fast as possible.

"Oh Dondus, all of this is so unfair. Every time i desire something, he has to take it from me. Nothing truly belongs to me and me alone... it is alwas us", he mumbled with a shake in his voice, while he carefully took his monkey and placed him on a pillow as if it was his child.

Caracalla never treated anyone as careful and caring as he treated his pet monkey. In fact, he could be quite cruel, depending on his mood that changed rapidly between weird happiness and irrational anger. This little animal had more importance to him than any human life - well, except for yours of course. And everyone here knew this. The Emperor would never hurt Dondus, but it only took one outburst of hate for a slave or even a patrician to lose their head in an instant.

"I want her, my Poppea ... i cannot stand the thought of not having her...i cannot. I love you her you understand this, Dondus, don't you? No one understands me the way you do. She is an incarnation of Venus."

But Dondus just looked at him with his dark button eyes - how could a monkey understand love? And how could he understand, how much it pain it left in Caracalla.

____________________________

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#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor caracalla #emperor geta #general acacius #geta x reader #caracalla x reader #joseph quinn #pedro pascal #fred hechinger #gladiator ii fic #kabuki writes

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apiptosis · 2 days ago

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Part 2 while I try to figure out tumbler.

The second one to meet Danny was one Cassandra Cain.

Cass ran into the thermos guy about five weeks after the incident with Tim. Unknowing this would Kickstart quite the changes in her life.

It was chaos for a while after Tim's 6 day long coma. For the first time in a very long time her brother was completely awake and refreshed. His completion returned to the healthy shade it's supposed to be and the bags under his eyes disappeared completely for a while.

The cause of Tim's coma was a caffeine overdose well that and an untreated concussion. According to Dr Leslie the last lingering traces of the larzarus pits managed to bring him back from the edge and now everyone in her family was religiously monitoring his caffeine intake. His time at the bat computer. How long he was allowed to be at WE. Etc.

Her brother was a saint for how long he lasted but eventually he got so fed up with everyone that he started a fight with Jason and Damian at the same time and after a brutal fight she, Alfred and Bruce had to break up Tim stormed off to buy the first apartment he could find that was reasonable enough.

So there she was in the early morning hours breaking into the old aparrment, room no. 404 was supposedly haunted, to give him the dented thermos she stole back from Bruce and Alfred as an apology. She even went to the Coffee shop at the corner of her studio that Tim liked and refilled it. No masks needed.

Cass was barely into the unfamiliar room when a frighteningly familiar voice appeared behind her accompanied by the singing of an unsheathed sword. "Truly Daughter, that you have allowed-"

An abnoxiously loud slurp interrupted her mother and in retaliation she stabbed the source. Said source had barely managed to turn one of the desk lamps on before he released a grunt of pain as Shiva stabbed him in the gut and he dropped his coffee mug to shatter on the floor.

A normal sized man would have recieved a mortal wound but the guy was atleast seven feet tall and struck his now vacant meaty paw out to grab Shiva by the forearm hard enough that she had to let the blade go.

The moment she let go he hefted her in the air by her arm uncaring of her kicks and merely chastised her with the barest hints of a Midwestern accent. "That was incredibly rude and since you stabbed me with it this saber is now mine." With a clean motion he tossed her out through the open window.

The whole scenario threw her off kilter and the few seconds it took her to realign herself he had already defenestrated Shiva.

With a grunt he pulled out the blade and set the bloodied thing on his sink with his ruined shirt before pulling out two chairs. 'Why would he do that? Everyone knows you don't just pull out something sticking into you, that was a sure way to bleed out.'

"I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you miss but that was rather unpleasant, you have my sympathies if that was truly your mother. So why dont we start over while I make us a cup of coffee."

"Names Danny and you are welcome to the Astral Apartments room 304." The man, Danny, said as he busied himself with the coffee machine.

"304?" For the first time Cass' rattled mind found it's voice that night. Danny immediately ought onto her confusion and radiating concern asked. "Yep 304. What room were you looking for?"

"404. Brother. My name is... Cass."

"The new guy? Moved in 5 days ago? Yeah, he left about an hour ago. If the pattern repeats he should be back in about four to five hours. It's nice to formally meet you Cass."

That was not good.

"Here," Danny said as he placed the a carton of milk and some sugar cubes down on the table next to the - yeah no that was not a cup of coffee - while it may look like an odd cup that was definitely a rather large steaming mug of coffee.

As Danny moved to take a seat Cass could find no trace of hostility from him. Her skills with spoken and written language might not be the best, it has gotten better though, her skills with the language of the body and emotion however was. Danny gave her no hostility or even dislike. Just pure concern, a lot of warmth, and comfort and a little bit of curiosity and some interest. Definitely a sense of protectiveness.

Her own worries and concern faded to curiosity and interest as she saw the wound much smaller than it was before.

"You can stay here till your brother gets back. He's usually here by the time I have to leave for Gotham U."

Slowly Cass sat down and prepared her coffee the way she liked it. Tradings one basic facts like her being a ballerina and prodding about here and there with the occasional prompt she soon found him rambling.

About his classes, how studying at Gotham U was going and how different they were from his schools in Illinois. He was studying to become an aerospace engineer. Random tidbits of space. It was kind of cute in a way how this behemoth of a man with a smile a little too toothy and bright or ears a bit too sharp rambled about his interests, eyes shining lie stars.

Eventually she had to leave when Tim arrived no matrer her own reluctance. That he was shirtless and easy on the eyes was a bonus and not one of the reasons she stayed.

As she left she concidered her options. This man with stars in his eyes would no doubt attract attention from the rogues. If she patrolled here as Orphan no one would really care all to much. It's just her way of lightening Tim's burden and keeping an eye out for Shiva.

She can come visit as Cass as well, perhaps get him to eat something. His fridge was very empty when she saw him returning the milk.

Grabbing one of the sticky notes she always kept by her she wrote down her number for him alongside a mental note to look at the academy a little but.

A few seconds after Danny closed the door Danny again. "So that's where by thermos was! I could have sworn I looked there."

#The Phantom vacation #cass x danny #dpxdc prompt #ghost king danny #dead silent #dcxdp #Cass grew up with assassins and mercenary so it's totally normal to stalk er observe a poi.#The bat's aren't any better.#lady shiva #You stab me with it and I'll keep it #dc universe #dcu #batman #cassandra cain #tim drake #He's mentioned #eldritch danny

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1920sladydectective · 2 days ago

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Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks.

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you.

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home.

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid.

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately.

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air.

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,”

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,”

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there.

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much.

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere.

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,”

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,”

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,”

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred.

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more.

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place.

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed.

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking.

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork.

It wasn’t enough.

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up.

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil.

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,”

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient.

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,”

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,”

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,”

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,”

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart.

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her.

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,”

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins.

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return.

“Yes, actually,”

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,”

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped.

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,”

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm.

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same.

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys.

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,”

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed.

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen.

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t.

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,”

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise.

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,”

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue.

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it. Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..”

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses.

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine.

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here.

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.”

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles.

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

“Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed.

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,”

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,”

“And look where that got me,”

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours.

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?”

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,”

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,”

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,”

“Stop saying that!”

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,”

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?”

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?”

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy.

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft.

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,”

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden.

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused.

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat.

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead.

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake.

“That was not the only way to do that,”

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion.

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!”

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,”

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher.

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,”

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear.

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,”

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know.

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear.

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,”

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate.

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over.

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about?

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard.

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile.

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,”

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place.

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,”

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car.

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener.

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery.

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her.

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans.

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,”

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,”

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,”

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?”

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,”

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent.

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start.

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized.

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her.

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both.

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin.

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day.

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind.

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator.

Calla Lillies - Beauty.

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly.

“You back with me, babe?”

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely.

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,”

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,”

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation.

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile.

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you.

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips.

“She’s never reliable,”

“She is literally compulsively on time,”

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,”

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother.

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again.

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,”

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?”

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,”

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now.

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours.

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder.

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin.

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table.

“So,” You started, chest tight.

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could.

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers.

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last.

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt.

“So a win-win?”

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it.

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch.

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,”

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped.

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening.

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear.

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough.

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,”

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped.

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,”

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching.

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?”

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good.

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer.

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy.

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again.

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls.

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room.

You were in a bed now. How had that happened?

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on.

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling.

“Would you like it?”

A nod.

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,”

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures.

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you.

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust.

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours.

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere.

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets.

She loved you.

You loved her.

How perfect.

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together.

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel.

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling.

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her.

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly.

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you.

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer.

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob.

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate.

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat.

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern.

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers.

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,”

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,”

Liar. Her grin gave her away.

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, ��Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,”

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride.

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,”

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time.

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile.

No more secrets. No more sadness.

You were finally officially a Medarda.

#reader insert #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #arcane #ambessa smut

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jessjad · 2 days ago

Text

Rightfully deceived

Chapter 8

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5669 (again, I'm sorry! 🫣)

Warnings: everything a finale might entail.

A/N: It's done! This beast of an ending is finished! I hope you all will like it the way I do! 😃 All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

The whole day went well. In fact, the whole of last week had gone pretty well. Dean hadn't known exactly what would happen if Y/N's family came to visit. Her father wasn't much different than before the wedding. But Helena...

He didn't know how he imagined they would meet, but he definitely didn't expect her to immediately seek his company. At first Dean had been unsure how to act. But then he fell back into old behavior patterns quite easily. And the more time he spent with the younger of the two sisters, the more it felt like back then. It took him back to the time when he had courted her.

But this time Helena seemed to be more open towards him, as if she was now more able to get involved with him and that did something to him. There were these moments over and over again, the smallest moments. They came soft and quietly, like a gentle touch, and whispered to him that it could always be like this. Then every time he looked over at Helena as she laughed and looked for him, he remembered what he had originally wanted. She had been the woman he had wanted to marry from the start. And the way it was right now, it could be like this forever.

Even though November was slowly coming to an end and it was noticeably cold, today the sun shone down from a bright blue sky and lit the way for them during their little ride. By now they were on the way back and Dean was telling a story from his childhood. The blonde woman at his side seemed to be listening attentively, eventhough she barely participated in the conversation.

And so a few minutes later he came to the end of his story and they rode on in silence. Even now she still didn't say much about herself. That made Dean a little suspicious, but he already knew that from her.

After they rode over the last hill, his castle came into view again and suddenly his heart felt a little heavy. Y/N’s face appeared in his mind’s eye and he frowned. How different sisters could be. His wife had told him a lot about herself. From the beginning he felt like she shared almost everything with him and secretly he had liked it. And once he had let her in, once he had overcome his anger after she fell sick, he started to like her.

The days they spent together were light and happy. They shared stories and made small memories. Her experience as a leader of the house was surprisingly giving him a big support. After her mother had sadly died, she had to step up and Dean realized at one point that they had a lot in common.

And they started to share the nights together. After they had sex the second time in the morning he got reminded on what he had liked about her the first night. Her scent was still so intoxicating. He had ordered her soap so that she would not run out of it for a while. Her body soft and warm and she still fitted right into his arms, over time he couldn't get enough of her. How confusing this all was. In his mind he had a clear vision, but his heart seemed to want something else.

When they arrived back in front of the castle, Helena's father was already coming towards them. Dean got off his horse, handed it over to Benny, who was already waiting, and then helped Helena dismount. They smiled at each other briefly before the young woman turned to her father.

"Pack your things, daughter. We will leave first thing in the morning."

"Really?" she asked, sounding a bit surprised.

Her father just nodded. Huh. The disappointment at this news didn't spread through Dean as much as he thought it would. Of course he thought it was a shame that she was leaving again, but somehow he had internally expected a stronger reaction on his part.

The second person who came out of the castle towards them was Ellen. With a quick step she stopped in front of Dean and told him what had happened just an hour before and that Y/N had almost been seriously injured. This news, on the other hand, triggered a lot of things in him. Ellen immediately showed him the place where the large stone figure was still lying on the ground. With a searching look, Dean looked up and immediately recognized the spot where the figure had been placed. Weird. Normally the anchor wouldn't just break like that. It was solid craftsmanship.

"Nothing happened to her, luckily." Ellen Dean answered a question he was about to ask. "But she's upstairs now. That... shook her up quite a bit."

Dean could well imagine that. Still, an inner feeling urged him to check on his wife and make sure she was okay. With a curt nod, he turned around and made his way into the inside of the castle when his eyes fell on Helena again, who smiled at him. This caused his steps to slow slightly for a moment before he hurried again.

Mixed feelings accompanied him up the stairs. Dean hadn't expected that seeing Helena again would upset him so much. It was as if he had been reminded of the shame of the false wedding and the woman he actually wanted. A woman who also seemed to be looking for his company. He ignored the small doubt that arose in his mind as to why she hadn't come to the wedding herself.

When he reached the bedroom door, he took a quick breath before opening the door and stepping inside. But as soon as he closed it behind him again, Y/N suddenly ended up in his arms. The slight impact meant that he had to briefly correct his stance. His arms automatically closed around Y/N and the calm that suddenly spread through him grounded him. But he only allowed this feeling for a moment.

He slowly peeled her out of his embrace and put a few steps distance between the two of them. He leaned down a little to look her in the eyes and examined her for a moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked and Y/N nodded her head.

Relief flooded through Dean and he closed his eyes briefly. But then he let go of Y/N and put more steps between the two of them as he ran his hand over his mouth in thought. Y/N was now his wife. The one he didn't actually want and yet she brought out more emotions in him than he would have liked.

"I think that was planned. I mean... something like that doesn't just fall off the wall, does it?" Y/N continued, bringing Dean's attention back to her.

"No, not really. At least it shouldn't." he replied.

"I think that...someone is still targeting me."

"Y/N..."

"Please Dean, just think about it. This... this can't be a coincidence!"

He was about to contradict her, but this time he couldn't. This action seemed strange even to him. But he still couldn't imagine who it could really be and why. So he just said nothing. He couldn't have guessed that he was only fueling Y/N's insecurity.

"Don't you think so?" So Y/N asked again.

"I... I'm not sure." was all he could say.

But he didn't need to say more, because Y/N could already feel the distance that was now spreading between them again. The brief moment in which she had finally felt close to him again, in which he might have believed her without a doubt, was gone and that scared her.

"Why are we drifting apart again, Dean?" So she asked with her heart pounding and received a surprised look from her husband. "What happened to us in the last week?"

Now Dean turned away from her. "It's not that easy, Y/N." and it wasn't.

But another thing became clear to him. He needed to sort out his feelings and he couldn't do that here. Not if he continued to share a room with Y/N. So he grabbed some clothes and his soap. Y/N raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"What...what are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to sleep in a different room tonight. Just for... tonight." Dean then told her.

"What?" Y/N was now starting to panic a little.

"I... need time to think. This is all... kind of confusing."

"You mean your feelings for Helena." she threw back at him and he heard her hurt.

"That too, yes," he admitted. "Look, I'm just trying to be honest here."

"But Dean... we're married now. Shouldn't we... talk about it?"

He couldn't leave her alone now. Again. Not after what had happened today. Shouldn't he be over Helena by now? Otherwise he wouldn't have finally gotten involved with Y/N. Or would he?

"I just need the distance now. Besides, Helena and your father are going home tomorrow morning. So..."

With this news, his behavior made sense, of course. But it still hurt Y/N again.

"Oh, I see. Because you can't bear the thought of her leaving... and then you'll be here alone with me again."

The words had a sharp undertone, but Dean immediately heard between the lines what she meant. "I didn't say that. Y/N..."

"I'm really sorry that it's such a pain to be married to me." she whispered now, tears beginning to gather in her eyes.

"No, it's not like that. But..." he broke off his sentence. He didn't want to see her so hurt, but he also knew that his words wouldn't make it any better.

"But what?" Y/N asked anyway.

"I... I always just wanted to marry Helena. Not you." he still said it now.

And the same old story again. She was the woman nobody wanted. Everyone always just wants Helena. And even though she was the big sister and had to take care of her, she had had enough now. Too much was too much.

"But she never wanted to marry you!" she angrily shouted at him. "The whole time you were courting her, she only put up with it because our father wanted it that way!"

"What?" Dean frowned and looked questioningly at Y/N.

"She never loved you. She didn't even like you. And on the night of the wedding, she ran off with the man she had really loved for years to get married to him instead of you."

"Wait a minute..." so that was the reason why Y/N stepped in for Helena? No, that couldn't be.

"His name is Peter and he worked for my father. She fell for him immediately. And when our father forced the wedding on her, she came to me and begged me to help her. That's why I stepped in for her and married you."

Telling him the whole truth was, surprisingly, a very liberating feeling. It was finally out. Finally he knew the real reason for all this. But she also knew that it would feel different for Dean to know that now.

"That... that can't be." he said to himself, although it sounded pretty logical all in all.

"She never wanted you, Dean." now Y/N's anger had faded and she felt slightly exhausted from the whole day. But she still wasn't quite done. "But... I do."

"That... I..." But Dean didn't seem to have heard her, as lost in thought as he seemed. "I can't do this right now. We... we'll see each other tomorrow."

And with these last words he turned to the door and opened it. He had just stepped into the hallway when Y/N gathered all her courage.

"I love you, Dean!" she called after him, but the door had already slammed shut again, leaving her alone in the room.

"Why can't you see that?"

The next morning, Dean said goodbye to Helena and her father. Sam and Benny stood by his side and all three watched as the carriage slowly drove away. A strange feeling had settled in Dean's stomach. He had been thinking about what Y/N had told him all night and yet he still couldn't quite believe it.

Could he really have been so wrong about Helena? All the conversations they had had, all the time they had spent together, was it really all just a lie? And yet... even if he didn't normally put much faith in his intuition, it told him that this could all be possible.

After he had enough time last night to think about everything, he remembered that he knew this Peter. He had seen him several times when he was visiting them and he had not missed the look he had given Helena. But he didn't get a chance to think about it any further, because suddenly Sam's hand landed on his shoulder.

"So, where is Y/N?" his brother asked. "Didn't she want to say goodby to her family?"

"I don't know." Dean answered. "I haven't seen her this morning."

Sam and Benny exchanged a meaningful look, but Dean didn't notice. He was still too lost in thought.

"Okay." Sam said and turned his brother around who looked at him questioningly now. "I think we need to talk."

Y/N heard the carriage drive away, but didn't want to get up. She had barely slept all night and didn't want to say goodbye to her father and sister. And from the looks of things, they didn't mind either.

After a few more quiet moments, she finally stood up. She put on her dress and made her hair, but she again felt sick to her stomache. Something that has occurred every morning all week. She thought that once her family was gone, she would feel better. But after what happened with Dean, the feeling would probably last a little longer.

Even if she didn't want to, she had to show her face at some point. So she went out into the hallway and immediately ran into Millie, who was about to knock on her door. Her friend was slightly startled, but then seemed relieved when she saw that Y/N was okay.

"They're gone." Millie said.

"I know." Y/N answered.

An understanding silence spread between the two women, because they didn't need to say anything more.

"How about breakfast? You didn't eat anything last night, Y/N."

"I know, but I just can't eat anything at the moment."

"Are you still feeling sick? It's been like this for almost a week now." Millie asked worried.

"Yes, but it's probably just an upset stomach because of the whole situation here. It will definitely pass." she tried to calm her friend down and it seemed to work.

"Okay, but let me get you at least a cup of tea, okay?"

"Yes, please." Y/N smiled. "Go ahead. I'll be right there."

Millie nodded, smiling as well, and made her way back downstairs. As soon as her friend disappeared from her field of vision, Y/N took a quick breath and gathered her nerves before she too wanted to set off.

"Y/N?" she heard a familiar voice behind her. When she turned around, she realized that it was Alex.

"Alex, hey." She said friendly.

"Is Dean with you?" he asked and looked around.

"No, he is not." she actually did not want to think about him before she stood infront of him, but something in Alex's voice seemed off. "Why? Did something happen?"

"Sam and I were just up on the tower and we found something. We wanted to show him."

Now her interest was aroused and she took a few steps towards Alex. "What exactly did you find?"

"From the looks of things, the figure did not fall down on its own, but someone helped it." explained Alex.

This surprised Y/N, but in the end this statement only confirmed her own suspicions. So someone was after her after all. She had to see it with her own eyes.

"I knew it! I would also like to see it and talk to Sam about it."

"Oh, yeah. Sure!" Alex nodded obviously slightly taken aback. "I'll take you up to Sam and then I'll find Dean. That's no problem."

"Then let's go!" said Y/N and Alex cleared the way for her to go ahead.

He pointed her in the direction and waited until she had passed him so that he could walk behind her and Y/N couldn't see the large kitchen knife that was in the back of his belt.

With a whiskey in hand, Dean, Sam and Benny sat in front of the fireplace in the dining hall. Dean was still kinda confused on what Sam was on about, but he welcomed the amber liquid anyways. Sam turned around to see if they were alone in the room, before he started to talk.

"Okay, Dean. What is wrong with you?" he asked quite bluntly.

"What?"

"You seemed so happy in the last month with Y/N. And then her family comes to visit and you change that suddenly."

"It's not that easy, Sam." Dean grumbled and put his glass down in the ground infront of him.

"Yeah, no. I get it. You wanted to marry Helena. I know. But you ended up with Y/N and the two of you seemed to match really well."

"She's one of a kind, brother." Benny agreed with Sam.

"Yeah, yeah, but I catched feelings for Helena!" Dean exclaimed. "That nobody wants to understand this!"

"So that's the reason why you treat Y/N so badly?" Sam asked straight forward.

"I... I treat her badly? Are you serious?" Now Dean got angry.

"You ignored her and just did not care about her. You focused solely on Helena." Benny explained.

"We... we were reconnecting." Now Dean stood up again. "I don't even know why I have to explain myself to you."

"I'm only asking you because I want to understand what's wrong with you, Dean." Sam also stood up now. "Because the Dean I know would never treat a woman like that."

Dean huffed. "I brought Y/N here with me, didn't I? She's here now and I didn't break the deal with her father. So don't tell me I'm treating her badly."

"She has feelings for you, Dean," Sam replied.

"Oh, what nonsense." Dean waved it off and half turned his back on the two men. But the memory of how he had imagined last night that Y/N had called after him that she loved him came right back to him.

"Anyone can see that." Now Benny stood up too.

"But I have much more in common with Helena than with Y/N."

"Really? Like what?" Sam challenged.

"Sam, c'mon."

"No, Dean. I would really love to hear that."

"Well..." Dean gave in. "First of all, the thing about children. I definitely want to have children, in the near future, and Helena wants that too."

"No, brother." Benny now intervened. "That was Y/N. Y/N said that, not Helena. We were all standing at the stables and watching the horses. That was... on the first or second day after they arrived."

Now Dean frowned slightly and thought about it. But it didn't take long for Dean to remember. "Oh. Yes. Okay, you're right, Benny. But... that's not the only thing."

"And what else do you have in common?"

And then Dean started to list. He remembered all the conversations he had had with Helena and the points in which they were so similar. Whether it was about the future of his business, protecting his clan against the redcoats. A possible future in America or their favorite pie.

"And for our honeymoon we wanted to travel across the sea to France. So that Helena could see the stars on the high seas at night," he almost enthused.

"But Dean..." now Sam looked confused. "Everything you just said, every single point, was not said by Helena, but by Y/N."

"No, no, no." Dean shook his head in disbelief. "It was Helena."

"No, it was not! Helena only wants to travel in the near future. She wants to enjoy life and spent a lot of money... basically." Summarized Sam Helena's words in his own way. "She never said anything else."

"You're wrong, Sam."

"No, I am not! I was there too when you talked about these things!"

But Dean didn't want to believe it. He folded his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. None of this was true. He couldn't be so wrong, he hadn't imagined it. Helena had said that, not Y/N.

But Sam didn't want to give up so quickly. "Did you hear that she ran away on the night of the wedding to marry another man?"

"How...?" Dean's eyes widened in surprise.

"Millie heard Helena tell Y/N. Unfortunately, the guy was already married. He even has a son!"

Y/N hadn't told him that last night. Dean let his arms fall again. Something wasn't right here.

"And something else..." now Sam came up to Dean and looked him straight in the eyes. "The thing about seeing stars on the open sea... that was Y/N's wish. Because her mum..."

"...had told her about it so often when she was little." Dean finished the sentence in a whisper and looked at Sam in surprise.

And suddenly everything was there again. The memories, of the conversations. The real memories. Dean saw them one after the other in his mind's eye and he had to sit down. He had heard every word Y/N had ever said. No matter when it was, no matter how often he had visited, she was always there. And something else was there again too.

His memories of the first meeting with Y/N. Her warm gaze and friendly smile. Her shimmering eyes that made his heart beat a little faster. How could he have forgotten that? How could Helena have blinded him that much? It was Y/N. From the beginning, it had always been just Y/N.

When Y/N got to the top of the tower, it didn't take her long to realize that Sam wasn't there. Alex had already closed the door behind her and she turned to him questioningly. She was about to ask him where Sam was, but the look on Alex's face made her stop.

"You're really making it too easy." Alex said and then carefully pulled out the knife.

Y/N's eyes widened in shock and she took a few steps back. She raised her hands defensively.

"What... what are you doing, Alex?" but the young man wasn't listening to her.

"I was actually hoping that my little gift would make you run away, but somehow it didn't work. On the contrary, it brought you and Dean even closer together."

What? Y/N couldn't believe her ears. Alex. It was Alex who was behind all this. That couldn't be true.

"Although..." he pointed at her with the knife and took a few steps back and forth. "At first, things didn't look so bad for me when you were lying in the stable in the cold. I didn't tell anyone that I saw you there because I thought you would freeze to death that night anyway. Then I wouldn't have had to get my hands dirty."

Y/N still remembered that. She had seen Alex walking through the stable when she was hiding there from Dean and had been relieved that Alex hadn't seen her. How foolish of her.

"But then Benny had to find you the next morning. He was in the stable before me, even though I was awake so early. That annoyed me even more because I couldn't be sure that you had actually died already."

The coldness with which Alex spoke made Y/N freeze. She had gotten to know the young man as so friendly and nice that she couldn't imagine that he actually had such an evil side to him. That he was actually capable of something like murder, but apparently she hadn't known him well enough. Because he had cleverly hidden this side from her. And he had kept this side secret not only from her, but also from everyone else.

"So I had to think of something else. But you know what? It wasn't easy because suddenly Dean wouldn't let you out of his sight. You were terribly stuck together."

Y/N carefully looked over her shoulder, but she couldn't see anyone in front of the castle. What should she do now? She had to stay calm and hope that Alex made a mistake. Calling for help was not an option. That might cause Alex to react frantically and she would put herself in danger.

"So I had to wait for a suitable opportunity again. Unfortunately, it seemed to take longer than I thought. After a month, I already felt like I had to come up with something more drastic. Separate you somehow or something. But then your family came to visit and luck was on my side again."

"The statue..." Y/N realized.

"Exactly!" Alex smiled, but not for long. "It took forever to cut the damn thing off without anyone noticing. And when you were finally in the right place, I dropped it. But of course Ellen, our head mom, had to notice and save you."

The contempt with which he uttered the last sentence was written all over his face. He came another step closer and Y/N's heart began to race in her chest. She kept her eyes on the knife.

"So I had to get creative again and look where we are now, just one day later."

"You... you don't have to do this." she stuttered, still keeping her eyes on Alex.

"Aahh, see? You're wrong there." Alex shifted his stance slightly to the side. "That's all I have to do."

And then he leapt forward and swung the knife.

"Dean! Sam!" Millie shouted as she came running into the dining hall.

Sam was up on his feet first. "Millie? What's wrong?"

"It's Alex! The one who is after Y/N! It's Alex!" She came to a halt right infront of Sam.

"What?" All three men said, but not just them.

Ellen stood in the doorway with two other maids and Cassie behind them. All women looked shocked and for a second nobody said a word. But then Sam came back to his sense.

"Wait, how do you know?" He asked.

"I was just upstairs looking for Y/N. She's not feeling well in the last days and I met her in the hallway. We talked and then I went ahead to go down first. But just when I rounded the corner, I heared Alex's voice and I stopped in my tracks." Now she was looking at Sam. "He had said to her that he just had been up on the tower with you."

Dean didn't need to hear anything more. With a determined look on his face, he jumped up and immediately made his way upstairs. Sam and Benny also started running when Millie called for Sam again.

"He had a big kitchen knife with him!"

Now Sam's expression darkened. He turned around once more to take a loaded shotgun from the cupboard next to the stairs and then continued upstairs.

At the last second, Y/N managed to dodge it with a jump, but that brought her to the edge of the tower wall. Alex, on the other hand, almost fell to the ground, but was just able to catch himself. But now pure anger was visible on his face.

"Why are you doing this?" Y/N asked and got back on her feet.

Now Alex looked at her a little astonished. "You really still don't know that?"

Y/N kept her back to the wall and Alex came to a stop just a few steps away from her. The door was now behind him again. The woman infront of him only shook her head no.

Alex huffed. "Well, for Cassie, of course!" he said, looking like it was the most logical answer in the world.

What he didn't notice was the door behind him opening quietly and carefully. Y/N, however, saw it all too well and hoped he wouldn't notice.

"So... did she put you up to it?"

"What? No! Oh god, no. She has no idea about it."

Now the barrel of a gun was visible and then Y/N saw two green eyes directed at her. She would recognize these eyes anywhere and her heart leapt with hope. Still, she had to tear her gaze away from the door and force herself not to look there anymore.

"But I... thought you would love her?"

"I do! That's why I'm doing this!" Alex exclaimed.

"That... does not make sense... don't you think?" tried Y/N to distract him.

"Of course it does!" But when Alex looked at her face he realized that she really didn't understand what he meant and so he started to explain it to her.

"I love Cassie and I want her to be happy. Unfortunately, she doesn't love me, which I can't change. But she loves Dean and she said herself that she can only be happy with him."

Okay, that wasn't anything new for Y/N, but somehow she had a bad feeling about what he was getting at.

"But as long as you're here, she won't be able to be happy with Dean and that's why I have to kill you. So that Cassie can finally take this chance and be happy."

Meanwhile, Dean had stepped through the door and had the shotgun aimed at Alex's head. Behind him, Y/N noticed that Sam and Benny were also there and seemed to be getting ready.

"But if you kill me, Dean will marry Helena. Because that's who he originally wanted to marry, not me."

Now Alex thought for a moment, but quickly recovered. "If it really comes to that, I'll think of something. But now shut up and let me finally kill you!"

The young man was just about to jump forward again when he heard Dean's voice behind him.

"I'd think about that again, son of a bitch!"

Alex looked back in shock, but didn't even have time to take another step. The shot from the gun could be heard across the entire castle. It hit Alex right between the eyes, causing him to stumble backwards a few steps and then fall over the tower wall.

Dean didn't waste another second, dropped the gun to the ground and ran straight to Y/N. He took her face in his hands and saw tears forming in her eyes.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No, he did not hurt me. I'm fine, Dean."

But then Y/N broke down. She began to sob wildly, letting her tears flow freely and clinging to Dean. He immediately took her in his arms and held her tightly while giving her a kiss on her hairline.

"It's over." Dean reassured her. "It's finally all over."

It took a little longer until everyone was back down from the tower. Especially since Y/N didn't want to let go of Dean. He took her down to the kitchen, where Ellen had already prepared a hot cup of tea for her. He slowly released her from his arms so she could sit on a chair. Y/N had calmed down a bit, but her tears hadn't all dried up yet. Ellen touched her lightly on the shoulder and pushed the cup a little closer to her.

"Drink this. It calms the nerves." which in turn meant that Ellen had put a sip of whiskey in the tea. "I'll leave you alone then." and with a gentle smile she disappeared.

"Dean..." Y/N begann, but she did not come very far.

"I'm sorry!" He blurted out. "I'm sorry about everything!"

Y/N had expected everything, but not that. And so she stayed quiet for a moment because she didn't know what to answer or how to react. But she didn't have to wait long for an explanation, because Dean looked at her determinedly and continued.

"I should have believed you. All of this... is so damned my fault. It's only because of me that you got into this situation." He ran his hand through his hair. "Just because I was such an idiot..."

"Dean..." she tried again, but even on the second attempt she didn't get very far.

"I love you." now Y/N was stunned and her eyes widened in utter surprise. "I love you since the first time I Iaid eyes on you."

Again, Y/N felt emotions rising within her and she looked closely at Dean. But she could see nothing but honesty and sincerity in his eyes and so she just let him continue talking.

"But I was just too blind to see it. It took me so long to really see it and so much had to happen for me to finally see it clearly. Sam and Benny also had to talk to me so that I could see my mistakes. But now I know, I know for sure."

Y/N was holding her breath, the tea long forgotten.

"When I look at you, I see the future and I guess I always have. I think I was just too cowardly to admit it to myself. But now I never want to give it up again. I want to spend my life with you, until the end of our days."

And Dean was completely serious. Deep down he knew that was exactly what he was feeling. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve, but the longer Y/N remained silent, the more he became afraid that it might already be too late. But then his wife started sobbing again before she spoke.

"I would be careful with what you say because if you really mean it... then I swear you will never get rid of me." and then she smiled at Dean, while relief and happiness flooded through him at these words.

"I couldn't imagine anything better."

A/N: Aaaand we're done! I'm happy and sad at the same time. 🥹🥹🥹 But I was thinking... since we had so many up's and down's, who would want an epiloge? 🫣 Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

@chriszgirl92 @elenasalvatore1 @laurensfangirlingsideblog @moonxlightsworld @muhahaha303

@stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover @ninii-winchester @itsdesiree86

@foxyjwls007 @jtink27 @tommysaxes @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @aylacavebear

@suckitands33 @pillowjj @hobby27 @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @winchesterwild78

@nikimisery @acid-spiderr @deangirl96 @lyarr24 @k-slla

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @stanzie @mochminnie @ettadear @globetrotter28

@leila22rogers @whimsyfinny @a-girl-who-loves-disney @goest-and-fuckest-thyself

@zepskies @star-girl-05 @tmb510 @louisianalady @deansimpalababy

@livsh20 @livya99 @whichwitchwanda @sydneyabcd @emotionsmgcbabe @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me

@deans-spinster-witch @strepsils123 @7leb-kakaw @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff

@thebiggerbear

#rightfully deceived #midevial!au #spn #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean x reader #jensen ackles #scotish men #scotland

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sergeant-angels-trashcan · 2 days ago

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CoD girlies (gender neutral), this one is for you. (but also Sam Wilson coded. anyway)

So. My mom was flying home and she had a stopover in The Big Fucking Airport in Chicago, I don't remember the name right now. The point is, she gets Chicago Pizza for me. And cheesecake.

And on the flight home, she is sat next to a military boy (boy is her designation, not mine. She's three weeks away from seventy, this is not a helpful description)

And she starts talking to him, because that is who my mother is, she finds out that he's coming home for the holidays and then he's getting stationed and such-and-such base.

At some point, because of who she is as a person, and because she had spent nearly two months Momming and Grandmothering as hard as she could and had not yet turned it down, she asks this young man if he is hungry. Is he hungry? Does he need food? She has pizza. Would he like the pizza? Oh, no, no it's okay! Take the pizza! it's fine!

He then reveals that this is the first food he's had all day (it's like 4pm) and my mom :0 and finds more food to give him. As they deplane she gives him $20 which is the last of her American cash. This is the end of the story

My mom. is so, so close to being the meddling matchmaker the sitcoms of my youth promised me she would be, and she drops the ball EVERY. TIME.

However, the point is now I can't stop thinking about this with the CoD boys. Maybe it's not even a few weeks before Christmas, maybe it's the day of due to bad luck or whatever idk idk doesn't matter

Honestly Ghost is objectively the funniest just because he'd be about two feet taller than her and she would absolutely not be intimidated by him. At some point she would share stories from before she retired and would say something about how she "had to take down a big boy like you once" and that "I told him it was a good thing my daughters weren't in town". I'm sorry he would be so fucking endeared by this. And he'd track her down somehow to say thanks or to pay her back and then obviously he gets invited in for baked goods and falls in love with you (me)

Gaz is so effortlessly charming. He asks if he can Venmo her money, and she has no idea what that is. Paypal? She doesn't have one. Her daughter does that, she's not very tech savvy, you know? She goes off on a tangent about having to use a typewriter to write papers in college. Gaz is undeterred--could he send it to this daughter and she could pass it on? Then again, maybe this is a teenager, and him having the number of a random teenager feels weird. He's out of time, they're deplaning. She's hard to keep track of, a short woman, but he's, well, Gaz. He spots her making for a car at the curb, the driver's door opening, and presumably the daughter getting out. Gaz makes a beeline for them. After a moment of confusion, you get introduced to Gaz, who tries to explain the situation while you're being yelled at by airport security and honked at by other drivers. It's not ideal--but he gets your number. He waits maybe an hour before texting you.

Soap is the hardest. My mom struggles so much with British accents so I think she'd get about half of what he says to start with. He'd call her bonnie (cos he's a charmer like that) and she wouldn't know what it means. I think she shows him a LOT of grandkid pictures and he's fully endeared by how she knows her oldest grandchild likes linkin park and slipknot while having no clue who they are. Soap is the one who tracks her to the pickup area and books it to your car so neither of you have to lift her luggage ("your mam said you have shoulder troubles, cannae let you make it worse, aye?"). Something something your hands brush as you reach for the same piece of luggage

Price would be a little awkward until she weasels his age out of him and then she realizes: ah! baby age! boy! (man's 40 max). I think he'd be better at getting her to talk, she's absolutely whipping out her phone (complaining about how it's old and doesn't have enough memory) and showing him pictures of the grandkids and a rundown of their hobbies and trash talking my sister's in-laws just a little. I can imagine her realizing he doesn't have a ride and volunteering you to drop him off at a hotel. You pull up to the curb and are like. Who the fuck is this man towering over my mother. He winds up in the front seat because his legs are longer and he turns so he can keep talking to your mom which is pretty sweet to be honest. You drop him off and it's not til you finally get home and start hauling luggage out that you realize he's left something in your car, maybe his phone or a watch, something important. And you heave a big sigh, haul all the luggage in, hug you mom, and trudge back to the car to drive back to the hotel. Or maybe your mom tells you to return it tomorrow, it's too late and it's raining. And the next afternoon she sends you to the hotel with fresh baked goods for him. He asks you out to lunch and suddenly it's 5 hours later and your mom thinks you're dead in a ditch somewhere because you haven't answered her texts. It's because you're too busy flirting.

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green-square-anon · 5 hours ago

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Two things about your primarch daughter posts just to not spam you.

I know you said he tries and all that. But it's so hard not to feel enraged at Dorn. There's being emotionally inept and then there's not trying. He reads like someone who dosen't TRY. He would have seen something. The kind of parent who never tells his child he loves them or he's proud of them? not sure what parental books he would find that didn't mention that and even then he would have to twist the words so hard to mean "actually I should just feed and clothe her, she'll know". I mean a parent child relationship where the CHILD "gives more than she recieves"? I want to slap him. It's the same feeling I get reading those reader or oc inserts where he's emotionally unavailble to his partner and I don't know if you've seen it since it mostly floats around 4chan spaces and 1d4/1d6chan. But that copypasta where someone talks about how others find Dorn boring but to them he's like that quiet family man at work who dosen't engage in watercooler talk and kinda opens up to his sons and I'm just wondering "wtf is his relationship with the mother" since she's never mentioned. Only with someone emotionally neglecting a child instead of a partner it is much worse. With partners I'm just thinking "leave his ass".

Thankfully I don't think he's THAT bad in canon and the fandom has flandarized him a bit. This is the same man who called Sigismund his "most beloved son" and lined the insides of his armor with fur to never forget the humanity of his grandfather or something along those lines.

On the other hand there's this bit in Echoes of Eternity before Sanguinius dies:

Dorn didn’t know what to say, when nothing seemed worth saying. He was not made for exchanges like these. Many thought him cold in these moments, even heartless, but he was neither. It was purely that defeat was alien to him, as was the quality of emotion shining in Sanguinius’ gaze. What was worth saying when no words were necessary? What did one say to a brother you barely knew, who had nevertheless fought beside you from the beginning to the end? Sanguinius had the answer without even needing to consider the question. ‘Farewell, Rogal.’ The Angel rose to his feet, and the holo tracked upward with him. ‘If we do not meet again in the flesh, know that it was an honour, being your brother.’ The Praetorian nodded to the Angel, wanting the right words, searching for them, and not finding them. The silence stretched out. It dragged. Sanguinius smiled, knowing. The hololith blinked away.

(For the people who like primarch x primarch I thinks there's great potential in Dorn having unrequited feelings for Sanguinius but that's a tangent). Yeah the man is emotionally constipated but he does TRY and in the time as well as the responsibility that comes with parenthood I think, can nearly garentee he would have expressed himself (side note but how the hell did he even get laid if he was this cold?)

Konrad. I know you most likely just didn't consider this (god that sounded unintentionally dickish, not like that, just that you mentioned not having considered the mother before) but I am a little gremlin for "LORE". What about handing the kid of to the mom instead of Vulkan unless mommy met some tragic end? In my oc verse (I'm not bringing that up to enforce lore, I'm saying this because these ideas are free for anyone who wants to build of of them) I intentionally made it so that Konrads waifu came from a family that was both large and tightnit (and relatively wealthy) so that even if Konrad went AWOL or just needed help there WAS that support network of uncles/aunts and grandparents to help. Even if the emotional support network on the fathers side was…. litterally noone. Or perhaps Konrad decided their must be primarch/astartes level protection, which would be smart, and didn't trust himself so "Primarch, but not me" was (to him) the best solution? That would be interesting as hell as a concept.

Primarchs + Daughters (2)

Finally finished the damn part two. Been kinda busy here and there with my new job but lo and behold, the one yall asked for. Soon enough, yall find out why it took me a while writing this one for the two main guys I had to add here.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Konrad Curze

A’right, I’ll open this one with the fact we all know that this man shouldn’t even be legally allowed to have children. I’m gonna be real for a hot second and admit that I stared at the screen for HOURS not knowing what to write because any poor little girl that is born from this guy will have the dubious privilege of being the most sheltered and hidden secret the Primarch ever kept close. With all those visions of death and inevitable doom mixed with the sudden power rush that fatherhood gave him, it left in its wake a perfect storm for this lunatic to develop a paranoid and obsessive need (NEED) to keep his daughter safe; something hard to achieve when he already knows the essence of his Legion. His fatalistic nature regarding his own future would suddenly clash violently with the Primarch’s new found protective stance concerning his child. It's almost sad to consider that this poor man GENUINELY wished to avoid becoming the monster his visions showed, but knowing that he’ll be balancing in the thin line of one day hurting his precious girl (or worse than that) it'll put him in the hard decision of having to let go of her eventually. He is no Perturabo, for that matter. In the rare and far away moments of lucidity, I can see Konrad choosing to protect the innocence and life of his child by trusting in the last person ANYONE might expect the Night Hunter would seek help: Vulkan. Honestly this is just plain sad, man.

Sanguinius

This is it! The golden boy, yall! We all know the kind of person Sanguinius is, but add a precious little daughter in the equation and all you get is the perfect example of textbook girl dad. No matter how busy this man is, somehow he’ll squish some playtime with his baby and enjoy every bit of it. Seriously, this guy acting like a dedicated father is worth being in a stockphoto image. His baby girl asks him to play tea party? Some astartes will find their Primarch hunched over, awkwardly holding a comically small cup between his thumb and index while his precious princess pretends to pour more tea for herself. The daughter of Sanguinius doesn't go a single day without knowing that her papa loves her a lot and when the man isn’t around, the Blood Angels Legion are close to keep her company to the point that even she calls them ‘big brothers’. No one is safe when she wants to play dress-up. The single problem I see with Sanguinius when raising his little girl is that he sins of being completely oblivious to the more mortal side of his daughter’s needs. He easily gets so wrapped up in his role of The Perfect Angel that he doesn’t realize his tiny princess has boundaries that are being constantly crossed, but since she feels the need to prove that she can be like her father, endures all those problems and refuses to seek help about anything. It becomes a kind of toxic mix considering how much Sanguinius is loved and adored by others, to the point that his daughter becomes like a coveted gem too by relation, making her need to prove her own ‘perfection’ an unconscious action the older she grows. I’m not even gonna touch with a ten feet pole the “fun fact” called the Red Thirst on this one because, let's be fair, that would require for me to write more than 3 pages with ONLY Sanguinius and his daughter in the spotlight and that’s only assuming his baby girl didn’t inherit it. I specialized in visual arts and marketing, not psychology jfc.

Ferrus Manus

It took me a while but after some investigating and more reading I can safely put this man in between the Papa-tier and ‘tough love’ guys. His practical mentality and belief of the strongest are (oddly enough) healthily separated from his parenting skills. This is one of the few Primarch that can see their daughter as an individual of their own and makes sure to be as present as possible in her life but the loyalty of this man to the Emperor is his own flaw. Not in the case that he’ll choose the Imperium before his little girl, but because it’ll put him in the dreading and guilty notion that he’ll always prioritize his daughter despite his oath to serve for the Great Crusade. Most of his brothers (except maybe Jaghatai and Konrad) just assume or don’t even think about the long term future of their daughters or simply presume that they will become a great part of the Imperium’s well oiled structure. Not exactly their fault since they never grew up with anything resembling normal. On the brighter and wholesome side (whiplash change!), this is a man who finds handmade gifts more meaningful and always makes sure to explain the reason behind them mostly out of the enjoyment of watching his little princess look so amazed at her papa’s skills. More often than not, Ferrus’ belief of the strongest would falter a little as he perceives the true fragile nature of his daughter and, even if she share the resilient blood of a Primarch, that isn’t enough to convince him that she isn’t vulnerable but instead of letting the worry fester, he’ll try to teach the girl the art of fighting. That’s where the ‘tough love’ kind of guy I mentioned comes out to light. He will not spare kind words during those moments of teaching, as he wishes for his princess to prevail any difficulty but he’ll make sure to always end any sort of training with “I love you so much that the idea of one day not being there to protect you, pains me beyond any form” to make sure that his harsh actions have a reason behind. Honestly, it's the kind of father-daughter relationship that possesses so many shades that makes its own drama novel. Good thing that uncle Fulgrim is always there to smooth the hard edges that may come in the future and makes up for the lack of spoiling the little girl deserves. Ferrus is not amused by it. Forgot to mention that the Primarch will be even more motivated to take off the metal of his hands, for he has yet to truly feel the warm and soft flesh of his baby’s hand. It's the one feeling he keeps missing and craves so much.

Angron

Oh man, another of the hard ones. Okay, if I managed with Konrad, I can tackle this bitch too. You need to comprehend that we are talking about a guy that has been so intimate with the meaning of pain that it's amazing he’ll be capable of ranging through other emotions that don’t involve fury into that combo too. That being said, this whole shitshow of being the father of a young girl can only be described as sad AND tragic. First off, Angron’s daughter wouldn’t even be allowed to leave her chambers at The Conqueror for obvious safety reasons and having her stay on Terra can’t be an option too, as Angron would rather be death than leave in a silver plate this one single pittance of good he helped to create under the light of the Emperor. That being said, any little girl born from Angron would be terribly isolated and one can’t even blame the Primarch for that as he, despite his disposition, finds his daughter as a genuine reflection of what he could never ever dream to have or be. That sometimes results in him feeling short and spontaneous moments of anger from the impotence of not being able to be close to his daughter, let alone console her with anything resembling compassion. This is a man that is horribly aware that he’s away from one sharp stab of the Nails to his brain to end up killing his little girl in one single swat of his hand. The moments of anything resembling fatherly love are few and very tense, for Angron has to constantly be focused on not letting the pain control his actions and that always looks as if he’s dismissing his child’s love language or actions. What else can I say that most people don’t know already? This is just a sad story waiting to end in tragedy and had it not been for how Sanguinius ended during the heresy, I can see The Great Angel taking Angron’s daughter under his care as the only consolation and promise to his corrupted brother before his demise. After becoming a Daemon Prince, Angron’s only genuine and foggy memory of his little girl is her crying while calling him with heavy despair. Goddamn I almost tear up with this one.

Roboute Guilliman

Look at my big nerd! One of the few guys that actually is humble enough to feel more human than any of his brothers… sometimes. I gotta say it, Roboute has the vibe of what happens when someone incredibly autistic suddenly becomes a parent; expect lots of books to try and be prepared for what entails to take care of a mortal baby. He’ll have a wholeass strict routine of activities and diets that you AND the baby must follow to ensure both of your health along with “fun facts” regarding a toddler’s development that half of the time lack the keyword ‘fun’ in there. Honestly, Euten will be a BLESSING sent, for she’ll be the one railing back the most extreme attempts of her adoptive son to try and raise his little princess like she was just another task of paperwork. Over all his quirks, the Primarch of the Ultramarines is absolutely trying his hardest to be a good father just as the one that raised him, but this is a man that half of the time ends up clumsily trying to spend time with his little girl only for it to backfire as he simply doesn’t understand how to entertain his daughter. Good thing the child will simply be happy to spend time with her papa despite his weird personality. More often than not, some of the astartes will see the young lady at her father’s chambers in a little booster chair beside him, doodling on some papers to pretend that she’s a big girl helping her papa with his very important job. It's probably the most adorable sight anyone can ever get the chance to see. Just like most of his brothers, Roboute isn’t that good at expressing his love towards his daughter with words, so he simply let his little princess be on his lap and hug her as if it will be the last time.

Mortarion

I’ve written enough of this man being a father that you all can get a wild idea of how he will be when confronted with parenthood. Even if he believes himself to be undeserving of anything resembling happiness thanks to his perception of being nothing but a tool of the Emperor, this guy will only need to see his precious little flower and feel like everything in the world can be forgotten, including his ever festering negative emotions. His daughter is the single light of love that he selfilish believes is his right after such torturous upbringing although that mentality rarely affects his princess, as he simply shows nothing but care and tenderness towards her. He may be a nervous trainwreck, fully aware that his Legion and himself aren’t exactly safe-hazardous, but that never has stopped him from doing his utmost best to protect the little girl from anything that may hurt her. Like most of his traitorous brothers, Mortarion would not hesitate to bring entire worlds into devastation if it meant that his family can be safe, even if that’ll end up making a terrible gap to grow between him and those he loves. It's quite terrible and sad to know that, unlike Fulgrim or Angron, Mortarion was the closest to his daughter and showered her with as much genuine love as he could in an attempt to avoid being anything like his supposed father (adopted or creator equally), so when he turned into a Daemon Prince, the festering and rotting resentment that consumes him sometimes simmers down when he remembers the laugh of joy his little princess often released when he would carry her up in his arms. Oh yes, some good ol’ gut-wrenching emotional damage, teehee.

I will not apologize for being a mean bitch by writing sad shit. XOXO

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #konrad curze #rogal dorn x reader #wh40k #primarch offspring #not mine though #konrad curze x reader #I initially debated putting this here because I intended this blog to be original posts but figured there was so much of my perspectve in i #it fits #tag character limit lol

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sadhornydemons · 1 day ago

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You gotta wonder..What are the events that lead to Via and Blitz having each other as contacts on their phones?

Blitz had Stolas in his phone as early as the first episode, probably out of Stolas' persistence in the aftermath of stealing his book. One might assume, maybe one day Stolas grabbed his phone; "Blitzy, let me add my daughter to your contacts!" which could be slightly odd, but not completely ooc in his mannerisms.

Having it labled: "Via (Stolas Bird Daughter)"..(how many different species of daughters do you think Stolas has, Blitz?!) seems like Blitz added it, or at least edited it later.

I could see, during the events of Seeing Stars, Blitz would have a good reason to add her as a contact. (assuming Stolas was already trying to call Via's phone prior to everyone trying to find her. I'm assuming a lot of stuff that isn't shown just so everything will make sense) By why Via?

And circling back to Seeing Stars, how or why does Via know where the IMP office is, or that her dad's book is there?

Obviously Stolas knows the location, he shows up at the office next. Did he have to explain to her one day, "Oh no, I don't have the book...uh, you remember our Loo Loo Land bodyguard? Well, he's borrowing it for his business..Oh say, why don't we pay him a surprise visit?"

Back to the original phone issue at hand, I can't see Stolas grabbing Via's phone to add anything (Stolas: "Oh, there's a message on your phone saying to click this link for a 'Mal-icious surprise!" Via: "Dad, no."). Going back to headcanon land, even if Blitz attempted to call her during the events of Seeing Stars and she answered, I'd see her blocking the number after finding out who it was instead of saving.

And Via already had the contact labeled "Dad (Calling From Shitty Bodyfriend's Phone)," (note the use of parentheses in both cases) complete with picture of Stolas in his This-Is-As-Dressed-I'm-Getting-Robe. If she hadn't blocked Blitz's number before, maybe she did find the number and edited it after her father was banished, knowing he didn't have access to his phone and that would be the only way he could contact her.

That's probably the most likely option I can find. Unless Stolas did manage to call her from Blitz's phone one day (prior to the events of Ozzie's). Again, I'm struggling to find a reason for that. "Via, it's daddy! Did you remember to take the reading materials for that history assignment to your mothers?", Via: "Where are you calling from?!" Stolas: "Oh, I just had to borrow Blitzy's phone while mine is...unavailable." Blitz: "I really didn't think it would fit up there."

There just seems to be a lot of character development or events unseen. Which makes sense, the show doesn't have time to show every stinkin' detail, while focusing on all the main cast. But some of these missing pieces might give more reason to why Blitz already feels bonded to Via, in addition to his relationship with her father, but despite them only sharing scenes in two prior episodes.

#helluva boss spoilers #helluva boss #octavia goetia #blitzø #blitzo #stolas #no hate or drama discourse please

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m1guelsgf · 2 days ago

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Hi I have request for axel. I was wondering what if axel and reader already has a pre-established relationship. The reader is sam sister which she was bitter that she took the spot for female captain for miyagi-do but leading up to the sekai Taikai it revealed that she was the new captain for the iron Dragons also can you make her and axel an unbeatable team. Thank you so so much i appreciate you

jealousy, jealousy

axel kovacevic x larusso!reader

this is such a fun concept, i hope u like it!! kind of rushed it bc i took too long on it and i wanted it finished but if this does well, i'll write a pt.2!

send more reqs! i love working on the ideas you guys have. my other axel req will be out probably after christmas (also working on my short film so i'm very busy lately) but i have an idea for a miguel fic and a kwon fic so lmk what u wanna see!! enjoy the fic!! also no sam hate pls thats my bbg.

being the eldest larusso daughter came with a lot of privilege and a lot of expectations. you and your father were close because you took after his love for martial arts. you had your mothers beauty and sense of humor. you were the envy of encino, riding around in a nice car while spending your daddy's money. you were spoiled, of course, but that didn't mean you hadn't earned everything that came your way. you lived up to the expectations your parents set for you, which is probably why your siblings so often threw your name around in vain. you were at the top of your class. you were a 2 time all valley champ just like your dad, until miguel and cobra kai came back to town. you had even competed internationally, winning silver and gold in different tournaments, which is where you met your boyfriend.

axel kovacevic.

the two of you met in italy, where you competed in the same tournament. your dad was oblivious to the relationship because your mom, amanda, was on the trip as well and the two of them can get distracted with each other. especially in a foreign country.

ever since then, you had a long distance relationship with axel. you spent hours on the phone, running up the bill with international calls until one day your mom asked you about it and you confessed. you were dating the croatian gold medal martial artist, and you maybe even loved him.

your dad freaked out, obviously, taking away your phone for days until finally giving in and letting you be with him (not that it would have stopped you anyways). you two were long distance for a year before both being informed of the opportunity to compete in the sekai tekai. it never bothered you that you were in different dojos, and axel never seemed to mind either. your relationship worked well but you often wished to be closer to him. which is why when the sekai tekai came around, you were giving it your all.

you dominated all the challenges and lessons you were put through and it all came down to the match against either your sister or tory for the captain spot. you were anxious to get it over with. they were skilled, but you knew you were better. you had been at it for longer, you had competed and won against tougher opponents. they didn't want this as bad as you. there was only one thing you really wanted at the end of the day and that was to be able to call axel and tell him you were going to be the captain of your team too.

after robby had won his match against miguel and secured his spot as captain, it was time for tory and sam to fight. the winner would fight you for the captain spot. sam had been on her game recently. she had been training hard and getting prepared for the match. tory, on the other hand, was nearly jumping out of her skin. her eyes were swollen and puffy like she had been crying and she was bouncing on her toes. electric energy sparked when they both got on the sparring deck.

it was intense. tory was fighting ferociously, in a way you hadn't seen since she switched sides. it was almost no surprise to you when your dad stopped the match. the surprise came in it being revealed that tory's mother had just died. both you and johnny rushed to tory's defense.

"well if sam doesn't want to fight her, i will." you weren't afraid of the challenge and you knew what it would mean to tory to be able to finish the fight. you didn't know the type of grief she was going through but you could tell that it wasn't going to be worked through by doing nothing.

"y/n, listen to dad." sam, ever the teacher's pet, shook her head. "it's not right."

"what's not right is us not listening to what she needs." you shot back. "we can hug and kiss later, right now she needs to let it all out."

"i understand sweetheart, but this isn't the right way." your dad shook his head at you.

"you don't understand! none of you understand! you just don't want me to beat your daughters." tory shouted at your dad and sam. "she would have wanted me to fight, i have to do this for her. just let us fight."

"tory..." robby approached her and she immediately softened.

"robby, no..." she tried to pull her hands away from his but he held onto her.

"we'll decide who's captain another way. i can't let this fight continue."

"you want this fight to be over. fine. it's over." tory stormed off.

"where are you going?" robby called out after her.

"i'm done!" she shouted before leaving.

"what was that?" your dad looked at you, disappointment all over his face. "we don't teach violence as a solution. that's not the miyagi do way."

you sighed, still angry that they wouldn't let tory finish the fight. "how are you going to decide on a captain, dad? if you're not gonna let us fight? are you just going to choose your favorite, because we all know it's going to be sam."

"y/n, that's not fair." daniel shook his head.

"what's not fair is you and sam not letting tory fight." you shook your head and walked off.

"where are you going?" sam called out after you.

"i'm done too. congratulations sam." you got in your car and drove home, sending tory a text that never got a response.

by the time your parents got home, you had finished showering off the day. you were sitting in your room, drying your hair when your dad knocked.

"hey, sweetie." he started.

"is this about the tournament?"

"yes." he was honest. "i think you're making a mistake by dropping out just because you're mad at me. i know tory is your friend and she's grieving right now but you have worked your whole life this. don't throw away your opportunity."

"are you going to give me a fair shot at captain?" you asked.

"it's not that simple. you're one of the best in the class. you're the only one who has fought on the level we are going to. this may be their only and last opportunity to go this far. we need to give them a chance to win."

you laughed bitterly. "so because i'm the best, you're keeping me on the sidelines for the biggest opportunity of my life. how does that make sense?"

"i'm not keeping you on the sidelines, i'm just giving the others a chance to prove themselves."

"well, now theres a spot open so someone else can prove themselves." you and your dad stared at each other for a moment before he left your room. he knew you shared his temper so he understood it would be a while before you forgave him.

"hey- are you crying?" axel's expression quickly changed. he had answered your facetime while on a break from practice.

"no... yeah..." you sighed. "i'm not competing in the sekai tekai."

"what happened?"

"my dad. he said i've already won tournaments, so i need to give others the chance to win." you rolled your eyes, still upset at your dad for not giving you and tory a fair shot at competition.

"that's stupid." he furrowed his brows. "they're going to lose without you."

"i know." you frowned. "and i told him that but he doesn't want to listen and i don't want to compete if i'm not captain."

it was silent for a moment before axel had a realization. "you should be our captain."

you laughed a little, not thinking he was serious until you looked at his face on the screen of your phone. "you don't mean it."

"i do. zara is training with a master in japan so we have the open spot. sensei wolf was just going to borrow from another dojo but i'll tell him about you."

your heart skipped a beat. were you really willing to switch teams and turn your back on not only your friends but your family as well? "i'm in. i can talk to him too if that will help."

"let me talk to him first."

"thank you axel." you smiled at him. "how's training?"

"intense."

"is your sensei being the worst again?" you asked, knowing what sensei wolf could be like based on what axel told you.

"yeah. our team has a new sponsor so we've been learning new techniques. sensei wolf doesn't want us to lose a single point." axel sighed out.

"well if anyone can handle it, it's you." you responded. "plus, i can't wait to say that my boyfriend won the sekai tekai."

"i can't wait to say that my girlfriend won the sekai tekai." axel flashed his million dollar smile at you. "i have to go but i'll call you tomorrow okay?"

"okay. bye axel."

"bye."

you set your phone down and looked in the mirror. you couldn't believe you were ready to betray your friends and family to compete in the world championship of karate. you could feel the guilt creeping up but you pushed it down with your anger, remembering that your dad and sister took away the one thing you cared about. they knew this was your life. they didn't care about trophies or medals but you did.

three days before the competition, your dad was still trying to talk to you. "i understand if you're still mad at me but don't be mad at sam. she needs your support. we all do." daniel spoke from across the kitchen table.

you bit your tongue, still bitter and upset at the both of them for the way things turned out. you needed them to think you weren't still upset. "i'm not mad. anymore, at least."

"so you'll coach us?" sam asked from her spot at the table.

"on one condition." you looked at your dad. "i want to go to barcelona a day early."

"what? why?"

"to see axel. he's competing. this is the first time i get to see him in months." you explained, hoping they would leave it at that.

the second you mentioned your boyfriends name, daniel stiffened up. "i don't know..."

"come on, dad. its not like anything can happen. we're just gonna get dinner together. he has to train all day anyways, i just want a normal date with my boyfriend before all the karate drama." you pleaded and daniel was never able to say no to you, especially when you gave him the puppy dog eyes that he used to use on his mom.

daniel looked between you and sam. you were looking at him expectantly and sam was nodding, encouraging him to give you what you wanted so they could have your support.

"i want you back in your hotel room no later than 11. you stay safe, keep your location on, text me every couple of hours." daniel spoke his list of conditions. "okay?"

"okay." you nodded.

"okay." sam repeated, smile on her face.

"i love you, honey." your dad kissed the side of your head. "the both of you. i'm gonna go make all the arrangements for you to leave tomorrow."

"thanks dad." you smiled at him and you were starting to feel bad for lying to them but you had committed to your decision already and that was final.

"do you... want to spar with me?" sam asked. "so we can work some of this stuff between us out. you're my sister and i hate us being mad at each other."

you took a deep breath. "i'm not mad at you. i have to start packing anyways. maybe later." you said, knowing later would never come.

when you got off the plane, your heart started racing when it finally hit you that you were seeing axel. you were getting to see your boyfriend after months of long distance. you were also joining his dojo. you had always envied sam a little bit for how perfect her social life was. all her friends trained at her dojo and her boyfriend was arguably the top fighter of the dojo. sam's friends automatically became your friends and you didn't mind because of how great they were, but you also felt like you weren't an individual. you were sam's sister and daniel's daughter and all you wanted to be was yourself. the female champion whose boyfriend is the male champion.

catching a glimpse of axel, your mind immediately went blank. you hadn't seen him in person since the tournament last year in new york where the both of you took gold, and now he was right in front of you. you both started walking to close the distance and once he was within arms length of you, he pulled you into a deep kiss.

axel had been waiting for this, just like you. it killed him that he didn't have you within close reach at all times and now he never wanted to let you go. he kissed you like it was his air. his frame completely shadowed yours as he pulled you closer to him.

"axel!"

the both of you turned in the direction of the voice, axel still holding you close to himself protectively. it was sensei wolf, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face.

"you'll have time for that later." he spoke and waved you two to follow him through the crowd of people in the airport. axel snaked his arm around your waist and led the way as he followed his sensei.

the car ride was silent. you didn't know what to say or if saying nothing would be better so you stayed silent and held onto axel's hand.

"you're not going to be a distraction for my champion, are you?" sensei wolf asked once you were in one of the gym spaces of the hotel.

you shook your head no. "i came to win."

"and what makes you think that you can?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at you. "you may be a champion, but what makes you good enough to be my champion?" you didn't know what to say. of course you had dealt with sensei lawrence's constant questioning and pushing. he always refused to treat you any differently than your teammates just because you're a world champion and a larusso. this was different. it felt like sensei wolf was trying to humble you- no, humiliate you. "i'll tell you what, if you can land a point on me then i won't get in between you and axel. how 'bout that?" he offered, outstretching his hands like he was offering himself up.

you shook your head and turned around like you were about to walk away before doubling back with a hook kick that he narrowly dodged.

"there it is." sensei wolf laughed and took a fighting position. "come on." he beckoned you closer before performing a complex kick that you blocked and countered with your own. he grabbed onto your leg mid air and pushed it away, effectively dropping you to the mat. you grunted, feeling your anger start to rise. he was playing with you.

you stood back up and took your stance again. "hai!" you shouted and began attacking, using a combination of everything you learned from chozen and johnny to attack him tactically but aggressively. you threw multiple combinations of strikes, making wolf keep up his defense. his defense was as good as chozen's and you were struggling to break it.

"enough!" he was starting to get annoyed with how long the fight was going on for. before you could throw another punch, he kicked you. you blocked it with your forearms but he then dropped you to the floor with another kick to the face. "okay, i can admit that you're good."

"i'm not done." you blinked away the tears in your eyes from the forceful kick and quickly hopped back to your feet. you held your hands out in front of you and began performing a kata. it caught him off guard but he laughed you off.

"fine. have it your way." he threw a punch which you blocked with the drum technique. he threw another and another and another and then shouted in frustration when none of them landed. you noticed how you were managing to get him off his balance as his breathing was starting to become more erratic and rushed as he tried to break your defense. in a quick movement, you snaked your way around his body, arm wrapped around his torso, and took him to the floor with you. it was a struggle, as he had a tight grip on one of your arms but you managed to roll over him and strike him in the face.

"point." you panted, standing up and walking away as fast as you could. your heart was racing. you were actually doing this. it wasn't anything like you thought it'd be. you were honestly a little scared. "axel and i are going out tonight." you said when you reached the door, turning around to see sensei wolf staring at you with a curious gaze.

"i can't believe you actually got a point on sensei wolf." you and axel were sitting at a bar near the beach. it was a perfect night. you were under axel's arm, head resting on his shoulder.

"yeah, after he got like 3 on me." you muttered, swirling the mai tai around in its glass. you both had already had a pleasant dinner and now were sharing drinks.

"still. i'm sure he's impressed. i'm impressed." he kissed the side of your head. you only smiled and leaned closer into his side. you definitely were enjoying the normal evening you got to spend with your boyfriend. your love life had been intertwined with karate and while it still was, it was like you could forget all of that and you and axel could just be a couple with no other worries. "are you ready for tomorrow?"

"yes." you answered quickly. he looked down at you with a questioning look, already knowing your tendency to talk fast when you're nervous. "i mean, yeah. i'm ready to fight and i'm ready for the challenges that are coming..."

"but...?" axel asked, knowing you were holding something back.

"but i'm nervous to face everyone. you know, my family. i lied to them." you were feeling guilty, which was a big part of why you couldn't completely enjoy yourself with axel. you felt evil, letting them believe that you came to help them.

"they'll understand. eventually." axel took a sip of your shared drink.

"i hope so." you were already imagining the betrayal on everyone's faces when they finally saw you in the iron dragons gi. "i know sam is gonna be pissed. and my dad is gonna have that disappointed look on his face. and sensei lawrence is gonna-"

"hey. i know it's hard, but don't worry about them. it's you and me now." axel had a soft look in his eyes. "just us."

you nodded. "just us." a soft song started playing ans you immediately stood up and held your hand out. "wanna dance?"

"of course." he took it and the two of you walked onto the dance floor. in the middle of all the people, you still only had your focus on axel. it was just the two of you as you swayed to the music.

axels hands were resting on your hips and yours were on his arms. he twirled you around and pulled you close, to where your back was pressed against his chest. "i missed you." he whispered in your ear, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek. your face turned red and you tilted your head to the side to allow him more access.

"i missed you too." you looked at him over your shoulder and he captured your lips in a kiss. it was full of want- the both of you wanting each other so bad for so long and finally being able to have each other. it felt like a dream. the warm, dim bar lights were making everything fuzzy around you and you could only feel the heat of axels palms through your clothes as he all but pried your mouth open with the kiss.

when he pulled away, the both of you had matching glossy lips and dazed expressions. you were both buzzed from the drinks you had and it was making you two all smiley and giggly as you fell into movement with the crowd.

the night ended in a long detour on the way back to the hotel as the both of you wanted to walk on the beach. you both made it back to your rooms with swollen lips, little love bites on your skin, and sand in your shoes.

morning training was no joke. axel had told you about sensei wolfs intense regimen but you didn't expect to have to participate. "if you wanna be an iron dragon, you have to train like an iron dragon." he had told you before the 3 mile run in the morning. you held your tounge when you really wanted to tell him that you didn't want to be an iron dragon at all. you had also heard from axel that his temper was quick and you didn't want to be on the receiving end of that.

'hey sweetheart, we just landed. be at the hotel soon.'

your dad texted you and you typed out a white lie.

'okay, me and axel are getting lunch. will see you in the arena tonight.'

'be safe. tell axel i said hi. love you."

'okay dad, love u 2'

you turned to axel. you were at the end of your training session and it was almost time to head into the arena. "my dad said hi." axel smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. he had only ever met your dad in passing. your dad found out you were dating axel after the last time you had seen him in person. you didn't mind it, considering your dad always got involved in all your relationships. it was nice to know axel recognized you as an individual and not the daughter of daniel larusso. it dawned on you that sensei wolf probably had no idea who you were or anything about miyagi do karate and that made it a little sweeter.

"are you ready?" he stood up and held his hand out to you. you took it and let him pull you up.

"yes." you nodded after taking a deep breath. "are you ready?"

"i can do anything with you by my side." he leaned down and kissed you softly. "let's go."

inside the arena, you felt a strange mix of confidence and anxiety. you were prepared for this tournament. you had earned your right to be there and you were ready to fight until you were the last one standing. you couldn't help feeling anxious over having to see the miyagi do's. it was sinking in that you weren't wearing a bonsai on your back and fighting on the same team as your sister.

then you saw them. they were taking their place at the edge of the mat. miguel was the first to notice you. he didn't look away from your eyes as he tugged on the sleeve of sam's gi to get her attention. he nodded in your direction and it was almost like she was looking through you, the way she didn't immediately spot you. eventually she did though, and her face fell.

it was a chain reaction, miguel told sam, sam told robby, robby told his dad, his dad told your dad, and then your dad was finally looking at you with betrayal and disappointment all over his face.

you could only stand there, one piece of your heart on the other side of the mat. at least you knew axel was on your side, with the other half of your heart.

#axel kovacevic #axel cobra kai #cobra kai season 6 #axel kovacevic x reader #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai season 6 part 2

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pathologicalreid · 2 hours ago

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christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an “o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #spencer reid dilf agenda

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wardenparker · 1 day ago

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At the Ballet

Joel Miller x female reader A PedroStories Secret Santa Gift!

Rating: General audience, but please remember that this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: Cursing, one that got away, slight angst from yearning. Summary: When Tommy's girlfriend gets tickets to the ballet, Sarah is excited to attend. But Joel never could have expected who he would find there, or that he would find himself grateful for a night at at the ballet. Notes: Happy PedroStories Secret Santa 2024 to @pascalispretty! I hope your holiday season is lovely and bright, and that you enjoy your story! Swan Lake was one of the first ballets I ever saw, so that really stuck in my mind, and I loved the idea of Joel finding his way to the arts because Sarah loves them.

“I don’t understand why the hell we’re doing this.” Joel grumbled, inspecting himself in the mirror as Tommy tossed his well-loved plaid flannel back onto the bed and put a sports jacket into his hands instead.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.” Tommy reminded him for the fourteen time.

“Okay, fine.” Joel huffed. He rolled his eyes at the jacket and hung it on the nearest piece of furniture, wondering if he even had a clean button-down shirt in his closet. “I don’t understand why I’m doing this.”

“Because you’re my fucking brother.” Tommy shot back. He’s actually got a real tie on, not a clip on or a bolo, and he’s trying so damn hard for this girl. “And because Sarah is excited to go. So finish getting dressed, you grumpy ass, and I’ll buy you a drink at the theater.”

“You should have led with that.” He’s busting his brother’s chops, but it’s worth doing. Tommy’s girlfriend has been around long enough that she’s been introduced to Sarah and started coming over for dinner semi-regularly, and she had somehow gotten ahold of four tickets to the ballet. Sarah had been thrilled at the news and immediately started planning what she was going to wear and begging her Dad and uncle to take them all out to dinner as well.

And, well, Joel Miller has never been able to deny his daughter anything in the world.

It’s with that in mind that Joel is begrudgingly cleaning himself up tonight. Because his little girl is down the hall putting on a dressed and doing her hair, and she looked so damn much like her mother when he had passed her room earlier that it had made his heart ache. Anything for Sarah. Anything at all.

Ballet Austin is a little bit of a drive away since they live on the edge of the city, but he doesn’t mind. Of anything, Joel actually does like driving. It gives him a sense of peace. Or at least it usually does – right now Sarah, Tommy, and Tommy’s girlfriend Sonja are chatting animatedly about the show that they are all going to see. Swan Lake apparently has a hard plot to follow, if he’s overhearing this right. Or maybe it’s just that ballets have no dialogue. Either way, he doesn’t really care. He’s going for all of them to enjoy themselves, not to understand what the hell is going on onstage.

At least, that was what he thought.

He had never expected to open the program in his seat and see you there. Clear as day, though, your photograph and name with the character name Odile were listed right there on the page listing principal dancers.

Suddenly, Joel is the biggest ballet convert in the world.

There is plenty of good reason for it, though. More than just being you, the dancing is gorgeous. Not that he doesn’t remember what a good dancer you were when you were younger. Teaching him how not to embarrass himself at the homecoming dance. Doing the choreography from Footloose and goofing off instead of playing whatever sport was supposed to be the assignment in gym class.

He knew you had taken dance classes, but he had never really bothered to find out more. To ask what kind. To pay some damn attention and get to know you better. He should have been so much better. He knew it even then, which is why he could do nothing but kick himself in the pants when Alex Draper asked you out at the beginning of junior year of high school before he could summon up the courage.

That was the year Sarah’s mother had moved to town, and he had started dating the new girl instead. The whole thing stank of what might have been.

******

Sarah begs Joel to take her to the stage door after the show, hoping to meet some of the dancers and tell them how amazing their performance was. She’s always liked theater and this wouldn’t be the first time that he took her to a stage door, but the chance that he might run into you has him smoothing his shirt and straightening his tie and practically thanking Tommy for forcing him to dress nicely.

“What’s got Joel so self-conscious?” Sonja whispered from the top of the alley where she and Tommy waited and cuddled in the dim streetlight.

“You accidentally managed to lead him right to the first girl he ever loved.” Tommy whispers back, chuckling quietly into her shoulder as he leaves a kiss on her neck. “One of the dancers that Sarah wants to meet so desperately.”

“And we’re back here?” Sonja huffs. She smirks and nudges Tommy, obviously trying to point him down the alley. “Joel Miller as a boy in love? I gotta see this.”

Sarah is, in point of fact, the only fan at this stage door tonight. And while Joel hates that on principle because it means that she doesn’t really have anyone to share her unbridled enthusiasm with, he’s also glad. Her presence there is delighting the dancers and every single one of them is stopping to sign her program and take a photo with her, all of them giving her a big hug in the process.

The young woman who danced Odette is lingering, seemingly waiting for something or someone, or maybe just enjoying the attention, when the stage door opens again, and you walk through.

“Sweetie, come over here!” Odette calls, waving you over. This is what she was waiting for, apparently, and her smile beams as she introduces young Sarah Miller to the dancer she became so enamored with during the show.

It really isn’t too often that you’re asked to sign programs, and you are beyond flattered to have Sarah ask for an autograph and a photo. You stand and chat with the young teen for a few minutes before even registering that she is young enough that she should have chaperones nearby, and that is when you look up to find him staring at you.

“Joel?” It has been almost fifteen years since you saw him last. Since your high school graduation day. But you would still recognize him anywhere.

“Hey.” His hands are in his pockets, but he still has that lopsided grin and perfect single dimple that made all the girls swoon. He still aims it like a weapon, always able to make the whoever he was talking to feel like the only person in the room.

“Hey yourself.” The warmth in your cheeks is unmistakable, and for good reason. Joel Miller didn’t just grow up good, he grew up damn sexy.

“Dad, you know her?” Sarah wheels around with a bright, excited look on her face.

“Dad?” Your eyebrow is raised, but you do remember hearing about Joel getting married shortly after high school, and something vague about him having a kid. Your mother had given you the news she heard while out grocery shopping one day. Just the same way that she had given you the news a year or two later when that same habit of grocery store eavesdropping yielded the news that Joel was now single again after a nasty divorce.

“This is my daughter, Sarah.” He introduces her proudly, both hands on her shoulders and a puffed up chest saying more than simple words ever could about how much he adores his little girl. He introduces you to Sarah next, explaining you used to be friends in school. “She—we— really loved the show tonight.”

“Well, thank you. Everyone in the cast is just incredible.”

“Yeah, you are!” Sarah chirps, her eyes wide as she looks between you and her father. “Dad! You should invite your friend to come have ice cream with us!”

Joel’s smile grows, tucking into the corner of his mouth like a secret, but he lobs that fastball of an offer back to you politely. “I’m sure she has other things to do tonight, honey. Maybe another time, sweetie.” He doesn’t want to say no. He can feel his heart hammering out of his chest and he wonders how you managed to get even more beautiful when you were already the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his whole life.

Looking back to your friends, you lend them a quick smile before facing Joel again and shaking your head. “Not at all,” you tell him – both of them, technically. “Free as a bird.”

Your smile grows, and Sarah matches it. “Free as a swan,” she insists.

“Right.” Joel joins in that laugh, air rushing out of his chest as he gets nervous all over again. “Free as a swan.”

He’s not going to fuck it up this time. He’s not. He’s not going to let you slip through his fingers a second time…

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #PedroStories #PedroStoriesGift24 #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x ballet reader #The Last of Us #TLoU #TLoU HBO #preoutbreak Joel #Secret Santa gift

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pixiedust4000 · 2 days ago

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Nap Time 😴

“Keep in mind that I’m an artist… and I’m sensitive about my ish… so y’all be nice about.”

-Motha Badu 💕

Just something I cooked up… hella short but pretty cute… lemme know what yall think !! 💕💕

Watch video first…

“That's it, your turn.” a tired and defeated Arias walked into her husband's office, she had been trying to get their two-year-old down for a nap for the past 10 minutes, and while approaching the “try again tomorrow” mark for nap time. Aria believed that it was time to call in reinforcement.

Roman chuckled from the other side of his desk, “Giving up already baby.” He questioned fully aware of the answer given that he had watched the chaos unfold through the baby cam placed on his laptop. He had attended to finishing up on some work before his wife returned from placing their daughter down for a nap. A task that normally didn't take that long, yet recently the toddler had other plans for her mother. Which promoted him to check in on the duo when Aria hadn't returned.

“Don't patronize me Joseph.” she shot a glare towards him before plopping down on the couch adjacent to the desk, “I swear ever since you've been home, she fights her nap time…every.single.day.”

With faux offense, Roman replied with a playful smirk on his face, “So this my fault?”

“Absolutely!” Aria replied without hesitation, “How many times have you said, “Missing a nap today won't hurt?” she mocked “How many?”

“Ok, okay,” his hands went up in defense as he stood from the desk, making his way over to his overwhelmed wife, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head, “I’ll fix it.”

“Good luck,” she mumbled her

“Have faith in your man baby.”

“You don't know baby d, that's why you're smiling and playing right now…cause you don't know baby d,” Aria complained as she laid down for a moment's rest as her husband left the room shaking his head at her antics. As much as she loved and enjoyed her husband being home for his much-earned break, a very small part of her said differently. Roman is a great father Aria couldn't think of a better father for their daughter Xiomara. It was just that the 2-year-old had her father wrapped around her finger the moment she entered the world. Hence why they were where they were now. Instead of telling the toddler it was nap time, he would ask if she wanted to take a nap. Though Xiomara was only two, the child was far from naive. All it took was for Roman to hear his baby girl say no one time and nap time was indeed out the window.

Aria wasn't sure how much time had gone by, or when she had fallen asleep, yet the moment she heard, “Hi Mommy,” her eyes flew open coming face to face with her round face, messy curls, paci secured within her teeth daughter, “Hi mommy.” she smiled

“What…” she quickly sat up, her eyes scanning the room for Roman. “Where Dada Toots?”

“Dada..” Xiomara babbled as she pointed towards the door.

Picking her toddler up, Aria made her way over to the laptop, with a few clicks she was able to find the man in question, “I swear this man…” she chuckled to herself as with a head shake, “Seems like you put Dada down for a nap instead Toots.”

Xiomara clapped her hands in response, giggles filling the room…

Aria smiled, “We can try again tomorrow.. I'll just make sure to supervise Daddy as well.”

Welp I did it!

Finally posted something, please leave a comment, like, or reblog please and thank you 💕♥️

@sayyestoheav3nn

#roman reigns #wwe fanfiction #the tribal chief #tiktok #inspiration #wwe #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #the bloodline

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bekolxeram · 16 hours ago

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Unfortunately, I don't have the means to donate this time, (Stupid expensive health issues🙄) but I'd still like to express my gratitude to Bucktommy and this fandom for the occasion.

Not that my life has ever been sunshine and rainbows, but 2024 has been particularly difficult for me. I started the year the sickest I've been for years, then one of my uncles passed away in February. He was 88. He had been slowly succumbing to dementia for quite some time, so almost everyone agreed a cardiac arrest was a blessing in disguise.

I wasn't close with him, but my mother was, and naturally, I had to spend pretty much the entire March accompanying her to all sorts of traditional ceremonies for the dead. All my uncle's children, my cousins, came back from abroad as well. They enjoyed hanging out with me back when I was a toddler, but then I slowly grew up into this weird, moody kid of few words, and we kind of drifted apart from there.

Family reunions were never awkward despite my gloomy existence though, they had their fun aunt who never ran out of things to talk about. To them, my mother's the life of the party and an exemplary woman, who went through tragedies in life but still manages to come out stronger on the other side, who unfortunately had to re-enter the workforce later in life to support her physically ill husband and her mentally ill teenage daughter.

What they don't know, is that while she's a fun aunt, she's not a fun mother. She was dealing with the stress and frustration so well because she always had an outlet at home. Someone she had total ownership over, officialized by a piece of birth certificate. Someone she could do whatever she'd like to, emotionally and physically, because in my culture, it's simply an alternative, maybe outdated method of parenting, not a crime.

I've had time to process my messy relationship with my mother, I've come to (mostly) accept it for what it is. Watching my cousins all rushing over to my mother with open arms to console her, watching my cousins' children playing around, having fun with her, while my existence was barely acknowledged, was actually more triggering than I expected. It acted as a sobering reminding that not only do I have merely a handful of friends since I left church, I in fact don't have any family left either. They're all my mother's family, not mine.

It was probably the most lonely and isolating experience in my life. It's like I was trapped inside of my head, my head that was gradually turning into a bottomless pit of nothingness.

Then Tommy Kinard drove through cross town traffic just to clear the air in person. He expressed how much he wanted to be a part of a family. Then he took his shot and got the boy in the end.

I just felt... understood. Watching Bucktommy's story play out on screen gave me some rare moments of joy and much needed hope. I felt like if Tommy could find happiness later in life, maybe it wasn't too late for me either.

If you've had experience with depression, you'd know how sometimes getting out of bed, brushing your teeth feels like an uphill battle already. Motivation is precious and hard to come by. I was so motivated creatively by Bucktommy and people in the fandom who resonated with the story just like me, that I wrote series of posts analyzing every scene in S7, I learned how to make gifs to illustrate the humor I found in all of us, I figured out how to edit video especially for my vision of a Brad-nado, I even wrote and posted my first fanfic ever.

And I just love how we refuse to give up hope, even after the breakup. We cried, we whined, then we doubled our effort writing fix-it fics, continuing their story on our own terms. Now, we even manage to raise thousands of dollars for charities in 24 hours in the name of love.

Sorry for the wall of text all about myself, I hope I don't come across as a self-absorbed jerk. I always thought I would never make it to 30, it started feeling like a real possibility in March. What happened instead was that my 30th birthday came and go because I was too busy screaming about Buck batting his eyelashes at Tommy when he was receiving a medal.

I'm sitting here, typing this out, looking back at my 2024 at the end of the year, only because Bucktommy happened and I had the pleasure to cross path with you all. I know, it's stupid, it's just a TV show, but I can't really imagine how my life would turn out if I never had Bucktommy, where I would be right, or even if I would still be at all.

So, thank you, for making life worth living for me again.

#alliwantforchristmasislou #bucktommy #tw: child abuse #tw: mental health #tw: death

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prepareforspamcalls · 3 days ago

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Horrible Sister

(More insight on Lilli. Sad one guys. TW: child abuse and physical abuse.)

PEEPS!: @myluckymoon @city-of-c0rpses

Life has always been hard. At least to me, that is.

I want you to imagine what it's like to not be wanted. To not be loved. To know that you're just another burden and a failure to your family's expectations. Now imagine a little girl having to endure through all of that.

To this day, I still find myself crying to that. Because it happened to me and it hurt, a lot.

I was a child in a horrible situation. I couldn't do anything. It felt hopeless as each one of us was torn apart in pain and suffering.

Xena used to tell me about "the first failure". I remember it clearly. We were in her room, she was 10, I was 7, sitting on her bed painting our nails. What was supposed to be a fun activity turned somber as Xena looked me dead in the eye and asked, "Do you know what the first failure is?"

I remember being so confused. I was only 7 at the time. Sure, I was already more "mature" due to my father's teachings and mother's lectures, but this was a concept I had never heard of before. The sad thing is, this concept never applied to me. It wasn't for me. It was for Xena, and only Xena.

I only shook my head at her before she went into detail about it. All I could feel from it was pity. "Think of the first failure as this. You're born into the world, hoping to have a loving and caring family for who you are. Instead, those dreams get crushed as you realize from the beginning that you're not wanted here. Your parents, the people who have birthed you in the beginning for one specific purpose, don't want you. They see you as a burden and make it clear to you that you'll always be a failure to them because you we're born with a dick between your legs!"

The rest of that day has been long since forgotten. All I could remember was seeing the slight anger from Xena. Her fists clenching, lowering her head as she sniffles to prevent the tears from falling out. I don't blame her for getting upset, after all, she was just a child.

That conversation would always stick to me though. There would be nights where I would just lay in bed, unable to sleep as I thought about that conversation. I never knew why I would refer back to that conversation, not until the day he was born.

Xavier, what father always wanted. Because having four daughters wasn't good enough for him. Dad finally got the son he wanted, so there was no need for the rest of us.

I remember that day when we first visited him in the hospital, I can remember every detail clearly. And I feel horrible when I think about it. For I wasn't happy when he came into the world. I was mimicking Xena, not caring, feeling dull and empty. By now, both her and I have been through a lot with mom and dad. We knew that this baby would suffer like the rest of us.

I tried to somewhat be a decent sister. At first, I didn't want to take my anger out in him. He didn't ask to be born in a sexist family. So I would just hide in my room instead, studying early so I can leave early once I'm 18. As long as I didn't have to come into contact with him, we can live somewhat peacefully in the same house.

I only avoided him because of dad. Just by looks alone was a striking comparison to dad. He looked just like him, a spitting image. That's what I hated most. I hated dad, with my entire being I hated him, but that hate would spill over and hurt the innocent soon enough.

It wasn't meant to be like this, but it happened one day. Dad called me into his office, I was 11 at the time, he was angry about something I did. I can't remember what. All u remember was him yelling at me. Commanding me to look at him while he's speaking, only for him to slap me a few times. I think he broke my glasses that day as well.

It hurt and once I was allowed to leave, I was sobbing my way out of his office door, carrying my broken glasses with me. I went upstairs to go hide in my room like always, until I saw Xavier coloring in the floor in the middle of the hallway. Just something about him sparked anger in me despite the tears still flowing from my face. He wasn't even in my way to get to my room, he didn't do anything wrong.

But I went out of my way, I threw my glasses at him before getting close and slapping him as hard as I could across the face. "I HATE YOU!" I yelled at him before I ran off to my room, slamming the door and locking it. I could hear his crying from outside, I tried to ignore it using my ability but the guilt was already sweeping through the cracks.

It was a horrible night from there on out. Not only did mom yell at me, dad slapped me again and took away my door privileges for a week, but I was sent to bed with no dinner that night and in the mist of all of it I was having a internal battle with myself. The guilt trying to make me feel bad but my anger trying to justify my actions. It was truly a horrible night, and I just wanted it to end. I was so fueled by hate and anger that one thought led to another, and before I knew it, I was standing at the foot of the bed of Xavier's room, late at night.

Everyone else was asleep. He was asleep, vulnerable, and unaware. I had my shot. I could have had my kill. I could have taken that knife and jammed it in his throat. All just to spite dad. All just to I can get back at the man who has slapped me. Who has hurt me multiple times. Who has hurt everyone in this household in some way.

I could have killed my brother that night. I could have, but the guilt stop me. I'm glad it did. I would have felt horrible if I actually killed him. He was just a child like me. He didn't ask for this. He didn't ask to look like dad. He isn't dad.

That realization made me feel awful. Not just because I was about to kill someone. No, I was about to kill a innocent child who I didn't even see as a person, just a reflection of someone I truly hated. With the hate of my father, the guilt of standing there with a knife at hand, and with the realization that I had let hate blind me to the point where I didn't see my brother for who he is all caused me to slowly drop and break down crying. I think I slept in Xavier's bed that night, holding him close and sobbing sorry to him the entire night.

All I could say was sorry.

From that day on, I tried to improve myself and be somewhat of a better sister. At first, it was hard, considering the trauma from dad, but slowly, I started to spend more time with my brother. I don't regret it. It wasn't as bad as I expected. On the contrary, I actually enjoyed being around him more. I would go as far as even defending him when needed.

I wanted to make up for what I have done. To be a better sister and to let him know that it wasn't him who I hated. I didn't want to be a horrible sister. So I hope he has forgotten about the slap, but even if he hasn't, I want him to know that I'm sorry.

#bsd #bsd oc #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs oc #bsd rp #whitlock sisters #short story #sad stories

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noircheols · 19 hours ago

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NERDING OUT !!!

(1) this is a reference to the song when the sun hits by slowdive. the song tells the story of the singer feeling nervous about burning through his current lover, and that their romance will fizzle out, despite how much he loves her. he loves her and is in awe of her, wanting to hold and cherish her. her beauty, after all this time, still manages to burn him. a core theme in the song is loss, with the singer saying "don't loose me." loss is a feeling that practically consumes seokmin after the reader passes. however, loss isn't necessarily an emotion that seokmin experiences in the start of the story, with it's tone as light and airy, like he's walking on clouds and on top of the world. seokmin is victorious, because he has achieved peace. he's an accomplished hero and the love of his life is marrying him. however, once the reader dies suddenly his life is defined by loss, with loss being one of the reasons he travels back to the underworld. the lyric in specific (which i highlighted) could be interpreted as a reference to catholicism, to mother mary in specific. in the original, she is "clothed with the sun," and in catholicism especially, she is a venerated queen of heaven. i chose this line in specific simply because i feel like that is how seokmin view's the reader and their love, wrapped in sunlight and greater than all the living things on their planet, sm so that he defies the laws of nature for them.

(2) a reference to a book i just read, called circe by madelline miller! her other book the song of achilles is super popular, but this one really caught my eye simply because i adore the complexity of her writing and just how lush her style feels. long story short i keep on returning to the novel whenever i'm in need of getting out of a reading slump. it re-imagines the story of circe (obviously) the daughter of an ocean nymph named "perses" and the titan of the sun, helios. much of the story focuses on her forging her own story, away from deterministic notions of what she can and cannot be. this is emphasized even at the start, where circe is born and explains her life as a nymph and struggles to fit in with her court, who engage in shallow, self-contentious politics. circe's youth is filled with her trailing behind her father and her younger brother, aeëtes (the keeper of the golden silk and father of medea), powerful male figures who do not recognize her skills. witchcraft gives circe the strength to rise above determinisim, allowing her to take on an entirely new entity between goddess and mortal and blur the lines between them. witchcraft is something the gods themselves fear, and it empowers her to choose her own destiny. the reader in this story defies the typical fate for nymphs, entering a marriage where they are viewed as an equal. seokmin as well believes that his individual identity as a champion of apollo exempts him from having his fate be determined. however, something special about the myth of orpheus and eurydice is that it highlights the nature of determinism, that their ends are pre-determined and death will find them.

(3) heraclitus of ephesus (l.c. 500 BCE) was a greek pre-socratic scholar, being known as the "dark scholar" by his contemporaries because his works are so difficult to understand. nevertheless, his ideas influenced the works of plato and aristotle. a common theme in his writings were and understanding of the nature of life and the purpose of human life (arguing that it was only the philosopher who was awake). his central claim is that "life is flux" (panta rhei), or, where nothing in life is permanent, because the very nature of existence is change. change is not just a part of life, but is in fact life itself. opposites would clash continously and create and destroy. “the way up and the way down are one and the same. living and dead, waking and sleeping, young and old, are the same.” these things are the 'same' in that they are all subject to change, arise from one change to vanish into another and all things, constantly, are in flux and are, in that regard, the same. (straight from worldhistory.org) in a way, wonwoo predicts the immense change that was to befall seokmin, when the reader dies in such a random and sudden way. even so, there is no way of knowing whether their marriage would be a happy one. even seokmin's fate is not provided with a definitive answer, leaving him hanging in the underworld and his story up to the reader's interpretation. even the memory of the reader which seokmin clings onto at the end might change. it might distort over time as he ages and his memory deteriorates, or maybe he will forget it. their ending is quite literally changing constantly.

(3) the pineios river is an actual river in greece, in the region of thessaly. the pineois river was named after the god peneus (cant stop laughing, im so immature), one of the three thousand rivers (or potamoi, gods and goddesses of rivers and streams on earth in greek mythology), and a child of oceanus and tethys. before the greek dark ages, thessaly was known as aeolia, and is appeared such in homer's odyssey. it's a mythical island, BUT please for your sake keep thessaly and aeolia seperate... my head hurts trying to explain the time and logistics about it.

(4) hubris is an iconic element of greek mythology. hubris, in greek tragedy, is exessive pride toward of defiance of the gods, leading to nemesis. "nemesis" comes from "nemein", meaning "give what is due." seokmin is (no brainer) equally as vain as he is in love with you. he has every right to be, and stands out from the crowd as an invididual. seokmin's vanity is expressed through his fear of death, as a consistent theme within the story is how in death everybody is treated fairly. he believes he shouldn't be judged as another brick in the wall, because he is more than that and has skills that challenge those of apollo. individuality is a huge theme in greek mythology. old greek and roman stories played an important role in renaissance culture, with artists like raphael and titian reimagining ancient narratives and adapting them to fit christian themes. the concept of indivudalism blossomed through a renewed focus on human potential and self-expression, with ordinary people having the ability to challenge the gods. orpheus goes as far as to challenge the laws of nature, but ultimately, his quest is fruitless.

(5) if you notice, throughout the story jun and minghao refer to seokmin as "mortal." on the one hand, you have jun viewing mortals as inseperable from each other. as immortal beings, they have witnessed so many humans pass them by that it's hard to tell when one is born and another dies. they lump them all under the title of "mortal". jun however is entitled to individuality as a deity. jun has seperate roles from the rest of the gods, and makes it clear to seokmin that he should not be conflated with them.

(6) a small wink at the plot, where the shipment number for the reader is hex code of a shade of aqua. aqua in colourology means compassion which transcends between the physical and metaphysical. seokmin's compassion and love drives him to rescue the reader from the underworld.

(7) a reference to plato! according to phaedrus in plato's symposium, plato represents orpheus as a coward. rather than naturally dying and following through on a guarantee of reuniting with eurydice, he chooses to mock hades and attempts to get her back alive. he fails as his love was not sincere.

(8) a reference to the opera of orfeo ed euridice composed by christoph willibald gluck, first performed at the burgtheater in vienna on october 5, 1762. in gluck's opera, orfeo (orpheus) is instructed to ignore euridice (eurydice). euridice becomes distraught until finally, her husband turns around to her. in this story, i reference a variation of interpretations (which i will go into later!) as seokmin walks, we see the reader's speech italicized. it could be interpreted as seokmin imagining what they would be saying, but also reader struggling to reach to seokmin as seokmin is forbidden to talk to them, and has no way of knowing if they really are behind them (magical logistics... ask minghao).

(9 - YELLOW) in many interpretations, orpheus can be interpreted as prideful of his skills. so prideful, in fact, that he believes his skills can rise above the underworld's laws, hence why he decides to turn around because he believes he can rise above the consequences. other interpretations however believe that orpheus turns around because he doubts his own abilities.

(10 - CYAN) another interpretation of the story is that its an allegory for grief, where we cannot stop looking back at the past.

(11 - YELLOW) in many interpretations, the myth is used to convey the message that death cannot be reversed and that it is everybody's final home, highlighting the harshness of death. in this way, eurydice's death seems inevitable.

(12 - CYAN) another virtue that can be taken from the myth is to never doubt the god's and their blessings. definitely not one i agree with, simply because the gods (to me) are conceited and too absorbed in their own power... butttt i suppose that moral applies to people like me who doubt a ton lols.

(13 - YELLOW) the interpretation i chose for this story was that orpheus had heard eurydice stumble (in some way) and out of too much care for her, recklessly abandoning any convictions. to me, this was something that could humanize seokmin beyond all the vanity he posesses, that at the end of the day, the thing he cares most about is his love. sure, triumphing and bringing the reader back would add another feather to his cap, but at the expense of everything he's worked for, seokmin chooses the safety of his love.

(14 - CYAN) this line is a direct reference to the poet virgil! you may know him from the aeniad :3 the most well-known version of the story is from him, with the story serving as an attempt of art crossing the realm of living and dead. the ending is definitely more gruesome (read at your own discretion).

(15 - YELLOW) this is a nod to feminist re-examinations of the myth. some scholars noticed that many re-tellings of the myth were male centred, barely giving any attention to eurydice, who only dies at the start (i'm guilty of this, i fear.) many have not asked what is it eurydice has wanted, and so many have re-imagined her as yearning to be free from orpheus, to be an individual. death gives eurydice a second chance at freedom, away from orpheus. she may have been forcefully brought to walk behind orpheus by hades and persephone. orpheus turning back could be a recognition that eurydice would be happier here.

(16 - CYAN) a portrait of a lady on fire talks about the myth of orpheus and eurydice! rather than choosing to grow old with eurydice and witness her die slowly and grow weaker, orpheus chooses to turn around to willingly preserve her youth.

(17 - YELLOW) seokmin doesn't know for certain whether their love would really survive the millions of trials and tribulations along their way. sure, he loves you more than anything, but that isn't a guarantee. if he were successful, what would have happened? in some interpretations, orpheus leaves the underworld with a blissful memory of love with eurydice, and can look back on them knowing he loved her.

(18 - CYAN) once again, a reference to the feminist re-interpretations of the myth. this time, a reference to those that paint orpheus unfavourably. he turns back not because of love, but rather knowing the burden of being married. having a wife will distract him from producing music and travelling the world, basically being held back by a ball and chain. however, having a dead wife would be a source of inspiration for his music.

(19 - LIME) references to please stay by lucy daus. it's a sentimental ballad that had me crying my eyes out. this song holds such a special space in my heart, because it was probably the only thing keeping me alive when i was at my worst and embracing a self-destructive streak. the speaker is basically in conversation with a loved one who is suicidal, and looks back on ordinary mundane things we only acknowledge when a loved one may disappear. life is something we all take for granted.

i'm so gagged if anybody actually read all my yapping...

˗ˏˋ AS THE SUN HITS ; l. seokmin ´ˎ˗

she'll be waiting, with her cool things, and her heaven. (7.6k+)

⋆ SYNOPSIS. ― you were his muse, the motivation behind every note he strummed on his lyre, and every verse he sang. but now the air that would rush through his lungs as he'd sing could only be pried from your cold dead hands.

⋆ INFO. ― angst, fluff, ancient greece!au, historical fantasy!au, greek mythology!au, hurt no comfort

⋆ PAIRING. ― orpheus!dokyeom x eurydice!reader

⋆ PRNS. ― they / them

⋆ CW. ― MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood, seokmin can carry the reader, seokmin is afraid of dying cus of hubris, hades!minghao and persephone!jun take on gender fluid-esque forms for my sake (dont question it), mentions of starving, s3xu4l 4ssault mention (verbal), alcohol, food, kissing, pet names (my love, darling), possible historical/mythological inaccuracies, mentions of a beheading, mentions of poisoning, mentions of vomitting, light smut mention (if u blink u probs won't notice)

⋆ 💬. ― special thanks to @seokmn for proof-reading!! inspired by a post which quite literally stated "orpheus seokmin x eurydice reader" BUT I LOST IT I WANT TO CRYYY. basically op wanted somebody to write something along those premises so i done just that (not shocked if somebody else got to it first tbh...) IF SO THIS WAS NOT COPIED FROM ANYBODY INTENTIONALLY THIS CAME OUT OF MY TINY BRAIN. i forgot who the original poster is but if anybody figures it out PLEASE TELL ME IMMIDIETALLY !!! this idea isnt mine i just wanted to bring it to life :(

Seokmin's favourite pastime was to have you running your hands through his hair. He loved the way your fingers gently brushed through his scalp, as you coaxed him with sweet nothings after a long day. It's what kept Seokmin going, his knees buckling as the musician climbed the hill to your cottage. Every day followed a very specific routine, you would be diligently looking over your garden, and he would wrap his arms around your waist from behind. It was your voice that renewed his love for music. Every word you spoke perfectly pieced together like a song. The way the corners of your mouth curled into a cheeky smile, the shape reminiscent of his lyre. Everything about you sounded right. It's why you made so much sense as his fiance.

Domestic life, despite his rich imagination, was something Seokmin never envisioned. He had travelled across the globe, seeing all that grew upon Gaia's skin. Kings had discovered his talent from messengers, and out of curiosity, invited him to perform. Everybody that heard his voice was bewitched, with rumours spreading that he was Apollo, the God of the Sun and Music taking on a mortal disguise! For his performances, Seokmin had been offered sparkling gems from the King of the Sea, pearlescent ivory from foreign lands in the South, and olive oil that flowed like honey from the finest of orchards. But Seokmin believed the best gift he had received was the gift of song. The gift of your song. With your song came his most stunning melodies. Melodies which tell the story of a wandering bard’s love for a valley nymph, an auloniad. The bard had only hoped the auloniad would notice him. Fortunately, Seokmin could conclude that the bard had a happy ending, because he was living it.

"You've been working too hard, Minnie." you giggled as you gently tucked a flower behind his ear. You two sat quietly on your shared bed. Seokmin felt his body sink deeper into the linen with how gentle you were, treating him like he was made from the finest glass. Even with his eyes closed, could feel the warmth of your gaze. "You should tell the King to give you a day off, spend it with me, no?" you winked at the man, whose head rested on your lap. A blissful smile rested on his features. He looked angelic with the way the sunset cast its glow upon him.

"My love, he's invited to our wedding tomorrow! I can't afford to accidentally disrespect him. You know how these things work. There are too many stories of courtesans being beheaded; you don't want your fiance dead just before the fun starts!" he laughed. "Wait— are you planning on getting rid of me!?" his eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his sockets.

"Well, your big brother Wonwoo has been looking so good after becoming a scholar in Athens. It would help if you were out of the picture," you smirked, eager to see your fiance's reaction. Seokmin scoffed loudly, getting up from your lap.

"I'll kill Wonwoo before he can even see you!" Seokmin jokingly yelled before tackling you into the bed to be tickled mercilessly. You squealed "stop" repeatedly as your laugh filled the small house. Seokmin was pleased with your reaction, and finally released you from his grasp. He was hovering on top of you, hair falling in front of his eyes. You wanted every day to be like this. You wanted to see that same hair of his turn white and his face aged with time. You wanted to drown in his neverending love. Marriage would finally make you one being, an entity that shares a future and a past, and two breaths walking.

"I can't wait for us to get married tomorrow," Seokmin sighed, as he reached for your hand to kiss. You smiled as his lips brushed against your knuckles. You had heard from fellow nymphs that marriage was a poison that seeped into your bones, immobilizing you and keeping you trapped in a moment. Nymphs were born to be nothing more than bargain pieces, their names alone meaning "bride". However, you begged to differ.

When it came to Seokmin, you felt free. Never did you feel that you were inferior. Waking up next to him peacefully sleeping, as he spooned you. His soft pleas for you to "stay in bed a little longer". When he'd come home from a long day of performances and litter your face with the sweetest kisses, where he would thank you for "being his muse". Looking into his eyes after a long day felt like staring into the wide skies in the valleys you would live in.

You couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

"You look good," Wonwoo chuckled as he placed a wreath of gold leaves on his younger brother's head. Seokmin took a good look at himself in the mirror, the gold illuminating the spark in his eyes. It was Wonwoo's wedding gift he brought with him from Athens. His brother supposedly enlisted the best of the best goldsmiths with the very little money he had left to his name to make the stunning crown. The gold metal felt heavy on Seokmin's head, but your love was something he would proudly wear.

It was the day of your wedding. Seokmin had invited his human friends he had met on his adventures, and you invited nymphs of every kind. It was still early in the morning, much before the ceremony would commence in the evening (a personal touch Seokmin included; he remembered how you would get up in the middle of the night to stargaze). Still, the garden was bustling with life. He could hear the joyous hollering of well-wishers from outside his thin house walls.

"Look at you, getting married before me." Wonwoo teased. "I thought you were going to die in a tavern as a spinster— thank the Gods that you found [Name] before you met your fate drunk in a random street."

"Please, I'm not THAT miserable." Seokmin pouted at his brother's remarks. Seokmin's chest heaved. He wanted to see you, he wanted to kiss the bridge of your nose and tell him he was honoured to be your companion in life. He wanted to lift your veil off your face and see your doll-like eyes stare into his.

"Do you think..." Seokmin began to trail off. "Do you think they will love me forever? I know I will love them forever, but what if they become too good for me?"

"Well, Heraclitus had famously stated 'you cannot step into the same river twice' with his Doctrine of Flux—"

"Please don't go all scholar on me! I'm going to my wedding, not to school,"

"All I'm saying is, love never remains constant. It's a dynamic entity, but then again, you and [Name] are pretty dynamic too. You match each other perfectly, it's like Aphrodite blessed you. Although, my little brother has always been loved by the Gods." Wonwoo smoothly explained.

Like Aphrodite blessed me.

Seokmin gave himself a proud smile in the mirror before putting on the rest of his wedding garments.

Brushing the blackened ash of incense over your lashes, you grinned satisfied with your reflection in your hand mirror. You didn't previously imagine marriage or starting a family because you had heard so many stories from fellow nymphs of their nightmare affairs. But once again, Seokmin was different. He had the sincerest of emotions for you, and you for him.

You took a good look outside of your window, inhaling the fresh air. The air was particularly sweet today, maybe it was from the plethora of figs and wine available. Or, maybe it was because your heart swelled so much with excitement from the wedding all your senses were being overshadowed. The cottage you and Seokmin resided in was looking exceptional today, with the bouquets of wildflowers and candles. The cottage was a gift bestowed to you and Seokmin by the King of Aeolia, who adored Seokmin's music. The orchards were bountiful, the fruit plump and sweet. The garden was your favourite place, as you were previously a follower of the nomadic forest deity, Pan. You remember vividly how you first met Seokmin.

You were stringing flowers up from the Earth when you heard a scream ripple through your valley. You chuckled softly to yourself. Humans. Still, there were many stories of them searching for greatness, ignorant to the fact that they were designated to ultimately become the dirt they walk on. Your previous lover, a minor God of trickery, would boast about his status and the inferiority of humankind. You’d laugh at his stories of luring humans to their death, but you were aware that nymphs were just as weak— if not weaker, than humans. Really, nymphs and humans were two different sides of the same coin— two entities that were used by the Gods as playthings to pass their time as immortals. However, a key difference was that humans spent their time locked away in their big marble palaces and scriptures, and nymphs would be imprisoned by the freedom of the wilderness.

What would a human be doing out here in auloniad territory?

You tracked down the origin of the sound, finding yourself deep in the forest. "STAY BACK!" the man shrieked. You peeked behind a willow tree, its long branches acting as a disguise, and you cracked a wicked smile. The man, clutching his lyre, was cornered to the back of a tree by a boar. The beast snarled, showing off its sharpened and bloodied teeth. Boars, to auloniads, were like what puppies were to humans. If this were any other human, you would have allowed the beast to have its way. But something about this man, with his big doe eyes and perfectly sculpted face made him seem... different. He held an aura— no, a glow, that made you interfere.

"Alright, Sherman, please don't eat the nice guest." you stepped out from your hiding spot, cooing at the beast. The boar stopped its hunt once it heard your voice. It trotted over to you, for you to cup its face. "Aren't you just adorable!" you gushed, ruffling with its fur.

Seokmin's eyes fell onto you, fear evaporating from his body. You were... magnificent. He had seen beautiful people before, when he was entertaining royalty. Princes and princesses would throw themselves on him, begging to take him to bed. But you were beautiful like the waterfalls he'd see on his journeys, birds chirping signalling a new day, the rocky steppes of mountainous terrains in Crete.

"His name is Sherman?" Seokmin began to laugh.

"Her." you giggled, as the beast revelled in your affection. Seokmin began to laugh to himself, wondering how the same vicious boar, who had chased him from across the forest, could resemble the same characteristics as a harmless puppy under the right touch. You released Sherman, letting her go to run off into the wild.

"Thank you for saving me," Seokmin spoke up, drinking in the nymph's beauty. You laughed— goodness, how could somebody be so charming? "Next time when you come into this neck of the woods, I'd advise you to not play any instruments. Boars are extremely sensitive to noise. Rather, go to the Pineios River to practice." you advised. "What were you playing, anyways?" being a nymph, curiosity bested you. It’s not always you get a human in your hand.

"Oh, just this old thing!" Seokmin brought a rather strange thing from his dilapidated satchel, a gold tubular instrument.

“And… what is it?”

“A salpinx! Its pretty loud though, soldiers use this in battles. Maybe this thing is why Sherman wanted to kill me…” Seokmin thought out loud. You giggled at the human's cuteness. He was endearing, like a fawn.

“Well, I should get going now, back to doing absolutely nothing.” you chuckled. As you began trekking up the forest, you heard Seokmin call out to you.

“Wait!— Why don’t I play something for tomorrow, just the two of us? At the Pineios River!” Seokmin offered.

He was composed when it came to playing in front of giant cyclops to convince them to let him live, at weddings of huge political significance, impressing the Goddess of Arts and Crafts, and setting wild lions to sleep with gentle lullabies. But to have you in his audience was the most nerve-wracking thing to him. To feel your eyes bore deep into him was… tantalizing. To be the object of your attention, as you spend your days together lazing in each other's company. He had never felt stage fright before. But that only motivated him to perform the best he could.

Grinning, you turned your head around. “I’d love to.”

He knew at that moment he wanted to marry you, and that feeling only grew stronger every time he played for you.

The festivities were in full swing. Guests took it upon themselves to feast on the multiple honey-flavoured sweets prepared and the platter of goat's cheese with cucumbers and figs. There was an overwhelming amount of wine available to wash it down. "Eat it all up and vomit it all out" was the Ancient world's favourite way to pass the time. Amongst all their excitement, Seokmin was oddly quiet.

"You aren't eating anything," Wonwoo observed, eyeing his brother's untouched plate.

"Something feels wrong," Seokmin responded, voice hushed so only his brother could hear.

"How?" Wonwoo asked before going for a second lamb rib.

“It feels like… my life is going to change tonight.” Seokmin solemnly spoke. “I mean— aside from the fact I’m literally getting MARRIED. But, I don’t know, something is telling me I should check in on [Name].”

"Maybe you’re just experiencing pre-wedding anxiety. It's common.” Wonwoo explained. Wonwoo was Seokmin’s polar opposite, in that he viewed convoluted situations as simple problems with logical answers. Wonwoo was reasonable, a characteristic all scholars possessed. Growing up, in difficult situations, it was Wonwoo’s brain that triumphed over Seokmin’s heart. “I'm sure [Name] is alright, they have all their friends. Just trust me on this and eat your food." Seokmin gave a weak nod before picking up a fig to eat.

Seokmin wishes he had listened to his heart before it was too late.

By evening, Seokmin was expected to have wed you already. By now, you would be dancing to his lyre with a careless smile with the stars smiling down on your union. But as Seokmin searched tirelessly for you, he could hear the stars laughing wickedly.

“My love?!!” Seokmin called out for his love. "Please, answer me!" Seokmin's eyes frantically scanned over the almost endless rolling hills. He felt like he was staring into the ocean. At first glance, the ocean was inviting and almost harmless, but the danger was in its infinite grasp over the world. But Seokmin would claw through the waves if it meant he could be with you.

"No sign of them here!" one of his wedding guests shouted.

"Over here!" one of your nymph friends called out, waving at him. Seokmin ran over to see what was happening, and his heart sank. You lay peacefully on the tall grass, as though you were just in a deep sleep. The earth was waiting for you to finally return to its arms. It had yearned for your return ever since you left the valley to travel alongside Seokmin. Now that you have returned to it, Seokmin knew better than anybody it wouldn't let you go.

"We were all just dancing, like we normally did and—" another nymph choked on her tears, rolling down her cheeks at the same tempo of the beads of blood rolling down your ankle and staining the lush bed of grass underneath. "We were startled by an entourage of hunters, threatening us with all sorts of crude things, because that's all nymphs are good for. But [Name] wouldn't take any of it, and soon enough, it delved into an argument— and the huntsman just shoved them so hard that they stumbled onto a stupid venomous snake."

Rage.

There had never been a moment where Seokmin felt so much rage.

What was even more bitter was that your blood was trickling into the Pineios River, the same place he had given his first performance to you. The sounds of the water gently crashing against the shore did nothing to soothe him. His world, you, had just stopped. But the rest of the world still flooded past your body, reminding him that he was just another pebble in the riverbed that was life. The river, which was supposed to be a natural monument to your love, was now stained by your death. You had deliberately chosen to get married by the Pineios River and to have your cottage here, because this is where time would stand still for you and him.

"Where are those hunters?" Seokmin questioned, as he scooped you into his arms. It hurt him that you were so perfect. Even in your final moments, you chose to remain generous and protect the people you love most. How he wished you could have been more selfish.

"They ran off into the woods, laughing to themselves..." another responded.

Seokmin's fingers clung to your figure, hoping to feel your blood rush. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to bring you back and finalize his vows with you. He was supposed to carry you into your shared cottage as blushing newlyweds, staring up at the ceiling together because that was your favourite thing to do. But here he was, carrying your cold lifeless body. That same body which he spooned to sleep. Just moments ago, he woke you up with a kiss on the forehead. How did moments seem so distant?

Burying his face in your chest, Seokmin sobbed. Maybe he could hear your heart beat once more? Maybe you could feel his warmth, and then you would regain your spark and miraculously come back to life. Your eyes would flutter open, and you could spend your last moments with him in the sweet bliss of domesticity. Seokmin thought that if he wailed loudly enough, the Gods would hear his pleas and give him his greatest love. His big brother's words, "Beloved by the gods," echoed in his mind, ringing painfully in his memories.

No human could ever be loved by a god. Not the same way he loved you, at least.

He loved you. And that's what was going to be his undoing.

It had been days since the wedding. Seokmin hadn't been eating regularly. Some twisted part in his mind lashed at him for not being there to protect you. He should have been the last thing you saw. He should have held you so as you shut your eyes and left this world he could have been able to say goodbye. He wishes he could have been able to say goodbye. Or maybe, he wouldn't need to say goodbye, because he would keep you away from those hunters and you would have never tripped. It doesn't matter now, because while your breath was faltering and your heart slowed he was feasting without a care in the world.

Seokmin also stopped sleeping. It's grown to hurt him too much. Every time he would close his eyes to rest, he hoped that when he woke up, it was all a part of a cruel trick his mind was playing on him. But it never was. It then grew to become him trying to sleep forever, so that time would pass by seamlessly and he would shrivel and find himself in the Underworld with you. But it would never work. It was because he was selfish. He would wake up in the middle of the night, his chest heaving and gasping for air. As much as he was terrified of losing you, perhaps most importantly, he nursed a fear of dying. He was a coward who turned his back on death, the only time humans are treated equally. But he was not like the rest, he was a jewel amongst the rock garden of humanity, and you were supposed to adore him. He was vain, but any artist with self-respect was. Why should he be treated the same as other humans, when he was a hero of far-off kingdoms and Apollo's champion?

Rather than disappointing himself, he took to roaming the gardens you tended to so ardently. "I'm still a nymph, after all! I’m good with plants" your voice rang clearly in his head like a bell.

Staring mindlessly at the flowerbed, meddling with the strings of his lyre, singing to himself. All he could think about was how spring was treading forth on its heels, bringing flowers in their bloom. But when you died, you left him none of the bright colours that dotted your shared world. Maybe, he could catch the Goddess of Spring, Persephone, and beg her to convince her husband to bring you back to him. The Goddess of Spring, or as he likes to appear to humans, Jun.

Seokmin knelt before the once flourishing bed of flowers, singing once more. Louder. With more strength. Maybe Apollo won't fail him, and will take his golden chariot mounted by swans to pluck you back from Hades and return you back home. You would emerge from the shining beams of sunlight, and you will both laugh about this cruel dream. If Apollo could gift him his lyre, surely he could gift him his love?

Seokmin's eyes fluttered, feeling those restless nights catching up on him. His exhaustion made him mistake the dirt as a gigantic pillow. Seokmin's shoulders sank, as he lowered his head. Maybe the dirt will consume him and crush him into a fine dust that will leave nothing but his soul, free to travel between worlds and free to reunite with you. But— then he would be gone. He would be nothing more than the dirt people stepped on. He could no longer hear the music of the world he loved so much.

"No!" Seokmin shook himself awake. His eyes slowly enlarged. That once large brown pillow suddenly had flowers sprouting out of its barren surface. Soft pink blooms with thin twig-like stems, native to the craggy stony steppes of Aeolia, called evia. Your favourite flowers. There was only one possible explanation of how this could have happened.

A figure walked towards the bard, long pastel pink silk trailing to the ground and flowers from every part of the world woven into his hair. Jun. The manifestation of the Goddess of Spring.

"A nymph was sobbing in the Underworld about you, mortal." his voice echoed.

"How did you find me?" Seokmin bowed in front of the Goddess, making sure to keep his eyes glued to the ground.

"Please, enough of these formalities! I'm not going to drag you down to the Underworld." Jun chuckled, finding Seokmin amusing. The Goddess of Spring was much kinder than his husband, that's for sure. Although, that didn't mean they didn't share the same sense of gallows humour. It makes the Ancients let out a sigh of relief that it wasn't Hades allowed to crawl the service and take all who frustrated him back underneath the Earth's crust to never be seen again. "As one finds all champions of Apollo, find where the sun shines brightest and where the music sounds sweetest."

"What are you doing here, then?"

Jun merely laughed at that question. "What gall you have, mortal! Asking why spring goes where it wishes?" Jun stopped laughing, catching his breath.

"Normally, I don't care about the dead. That's Minghao's job. It's so glum, don't you think? Listening to whining brats isn't really my forte, thank goodness he's so patient." Minghao was the chosen mortal name of Hades, the malevolent ruler of the Underworld, waiting for the fall of every being from the shadows. “Patient” was certainly one way to describe him.

"But this one was special. Wailing as loud as possible so Apollo could hear them, but alas! His home is high up in the sky, he's too brilliant for us! Minghao told me that this was the soon-to-be spouse of Apollo's champion. Naturally, I was curious about them, since they had managed to capture the attention of one who is in Apollo's favour."

"I'm honoured to have caught your attention, but..." Seokmin paused, wondering what to say. "Will you please bring them back?"

"Bring out your hands, mortal." Jun sighed, reaching down to pick up an evia. Reluctantly, Seokmin laid his palm flat. "Minghao always explains to me that mortality is chained to time. The second a mortal is born, the clock never stops ticking. Second after second" Jun tears off a petal. "day after day." and another. "Year by year." and another. "Your darling was already dying. Until finally—" SNAP! Jun rips the stem in half. "The clock stopped." Jun brushed off the broken flower into Seokmin's palm. "Now if you excuse me, my curiosity has been satiated."

"Forgive me for my intrusion, but you're immortal. I don't think you should be explaining how death works to me." Seokmin spoke up without thinking. What had gotten into him!? Why was he challenging a goddess!? Guilt sunk into him. "I'm so sorry! I— I was speaking without thinking!" Seokmin got on all fours. Jun once again laughed.

"Mortal, do you think I'm enraged? On the contrary, I'm amused!" Jun smiled, kneeling to grab Seokmin's chin and make him look into his eyes, bright like flowers emerging from the cold winter snow. "I'm nothing like those old hags on Olympus! I like your attitude. I was worried that Apollo favoured idiots, but I'm glad he finally chose somebody with a mouth!"

"I— Really??" Seokmin was at a loss for words, getting back up on his feet. "All I ask is, I have a word with Hades. I'm sure he will understand my plight."

"Are you saying you want to challenge him?"

"I mean, you are his bride. You have his affections, surely he will listen to you!" Seokmin pleaded. "Please, I need to see [Name]. Every day has been worthless for me. Food has no taste, music has no rhythm." Seokmin stumbled on his words, his mouth clogged by the emotions plaguing his heart.

"You do understand, mortal, that the dead is not my kingdom. Once we head to the Underworld, I won't be able to protect you." Jun explained. Seokmin sighed, weighing the options.

"I've travelled oceans and fought monsters, talking with the King of the Underworld seems like nothing if I can have [Name] back," Seokmin answered.

Jun wryly smiled, his eyes mischievously glinting with the opportunity to witness a game, as he began his long walk back home. "Well, onwards we go then. It's a long way back." Seokmin firmly nodded, picking up his lyre, as that was all he'd need. "Seriously? That's all?" Jun quirked an eyebrow. Seokmin nodded. Jun scoffed. Maybe all of Apollo's favourites were idiots.

Finally done climbing up the stony steps, Seokmin arrived at the large entrance of Hades's palace. Dark obsidian columns with silver accents and a large door handle of bone, except large bouquets crawling down its walls (courtesy of Jun).

"Let's go over some basics before you meet him, alright?" Jun turned to Seokmin. "Number one, don't touch anything! Otherwise, you're stuck here for good. Instead, let me open this door for you." Jun leaned against the cool frame of the door. "Number two, Hades isn't nearly as cruel as you mortals make him out to be. He's actually quite fair, as death should be."

"Death wasn't fair to my love." he huffed, letting his true feelings show. Jun knew this feeling of resentment toward Minghao wasn't uncommon. So many mortals beg for his forgiveness, to make their deaths as seamless as the flow of time. But even then mortals resent death for taking their loved ones away.

"That's what they all say." Jun rolled his eyes. "Third, play by his rules. Minghao normally finds you mortals championed by the arrogant Gods of Olympus to be so prideful, so it'll be refreshing to see something opposite of that, and you'll be in his graces." Seokmin's ears perked at the last bit. Could he wager immortality, then? Could he have you and him enjoying the future without the fear of it ending? "Number four, and most importantly. It's easier to get into the Underworld than to leave it."

"Alright so no touching, Hades is nice, listen to him, and it's hard to leave." Seokmin recounted.

"Exactly!" Jun gave a thumbs-up before the gates opened for him. "Now put your game face on, Champion of Apollo." Seokmin quietly followed after Jun, his eyes glazing over the palace. Each wall held engraving of different stories, all stories which shared an ending in the Underworld. The final destination for all.

"Hao!" Jun called. "I brought you somebody!"

"Leave them at the front desk, the clerk will sort them out!" Minghao replied, his voice booming. Seokmin covered his ears, he forgot how loud the voices of Gods appeared to regular people. Jun opened the last gate, and into the throneroom. Seokmin's jaw dropped. He could only imagine being back at the cottage with you, composing a song of Hades and rescuing you. The large throne perched upon stairs of what looked like sizzling magma. Seokmin gulped looking at the throne, composed of skeletons, all of them belonging to those who had mocked the King of the Underworld. Most importantly, was the very king that sat comfortably on his throne. Seokmin imagined the king to be hot-tempered, like the fires which scorched wrong-doers. But it was very much the opposite. Cold. Cold like a corpse when it stops breathing.

"I bring to you, a Champion of Apollo! This is the one we were talking about earlier, the fiance of the nymph." Jun turned to Seokmin, signalling for him to follow.

"Um, uh— greetings, your... awfulness? I would say highness, but we are at the lowest part of the Earth. Would your lowness work better?" Seokmin mumbled, awkwardly, kneeling in front of Hades.

"Isn't this exciting!" Jun forced a smile, mentally face-palming.

"He isn't dead." Minghao finally spoke, a chill piercing through the room. "Stand, mortal. I want to look at the one who dares challenge me." Minghao stepped down from his throne as Seokmin's legs struggled to stand up without wobbling. Jun sighed, knowing this was where his power over Minghao ended. As Jun walked up to his own throne adorned in flowers, he turned to Seokmin and mouthed "Good luck."

"Mortal, you dare mock me? Using my bride as a bargaining piece, breaching my palace, and all while your heart still beats?" Minghao threatened, analyzing the man in front of him. Minghao was perfect. Perfect in the way all Gods are. But he was impressed with Seokmin, that even compared to a God he was able to stand proud. "It makes sense that you caught Apollo's attention, but I detest the Gods of Olympus. They keep me underground, send me humanity’s worst, and expect my generosity." he scoffed.

"I— I only have one wish for you." Seokmin finally spoke. Minghao raised a brow. "I suspect it has something to do with shipment #50A194. The auloniad." Minghao thought out loud.

"You assign numbers to everybody who comes here?"

"People die every day, I have to keep track somehow." the God casually shrugged. "They were nothing like other nymphs. Normally, nymphs are relieved to come to my arms, as humans and gods alike toy with them. But this one was upset. This one says you have shown them something special, something that makes my kingdom pale in comparison. I wonder what it is." Seokmin's answer of “music” hung in the air.

"All I ask from you is that you return my love to me." Seokmin blurted. A beat of silence. Seokmin felt the air around him suffocate him, his body growing numb. Another beat of silence.

Minghao stepped closer to Seokmin. "Are you afraid of dying, mortal?" Seokmin froze.

"W-what?" he tried playing it off, but Minghao knew the living just as well as the dead, and the racing of his heart gave him away.

"You champions are all the same. You lead fruitful lives, you find great loves and great riches. But you all are terrified of the end." Minghao smoothly explained. "Just because the sun bends in your favour, doesn't mean death will. You are a coward, is what you are. A coward that fears his end! You will not do what is natural and wait for death to find you. No, instead you will mock death. You will find death, and you will demand it give you what you deserve. Your love for [Name] is not true!"

"OK ENOUGH!" Seokmin roared back, tears dripping down his face. "I love [Name]. More than anything. You can call me a coward, I don't care." Seokmin spoke. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a satisfied Jun enjoying his performance. His vision began to obscure with tears falling once more from his eyes. "Yes, I'm scared of dying. I hate the idea of it. I know it is everybody's fate, but the journey has to be completed alone. I cannot bear the idea of being alone. I cannot bear the idea of being without [Name]." Seokmin looked at the god, gaze unfaltering and filled with rage, the same that filled him on the day of your death.

"Fine. I admit, I empathize with your cause." Minghao reluctantly sighed. "I shall retrieve your love, and dress them in the finest of Underworld garments and jewels so you can have a wedding ceremony even better than the last." "Really?" Seokmin blinked.

"There is an exit out of the Underworld only Jun and I know, you two can hike up it and will be back home in the blink of an eye. However, I have a condition"

"Anything!" Seokmin grinned, already imagining how he would hold you the second you two reunite. You two will exchange stories of brushing with the Underworld and the sights. He’ll tell you about his encounter with Persephone and her husband, and you will tell him about your trip across the River Styx.

"You by any means cannot turn around. Not even go as far as to check on the nymph that will be right behind you. You will only have one chance. If you fail, you shall be separated from each other in eternity." Minghao sternly spoke. Seokmin's smile dropped as quickly as it quirked up. "You are forbidden from communicating to them, as well as touching them. You will also be unable to hear them."

"But, how will I know they are with me!?" "Not my problem." Minghao sighed. "This is the most you're getting from me. Now, shoo." Rolling his eyes, Minghao made his way back to his throne. "The next time I see you, you better be dead. If not, I'll make sure of it."

Seokmin waved goodbye to the kind Goddess of Spring and bowed to Hades to signal his respects to the Underworld. He took a deep breath in, looking up at the glittering light seeping through the cracks. The only exit out of here, and his ticket to freedom. He could imagine the sweetness of your lips kissing him. Your voice sighs in relief that he came to rescue you from oblivion. Standing in his way was a long, steep and rocky path, its width shrinking the closer it was to the exit.

"My love, how I missed you!" you grinned. "You can't believe how abysmal it is here! God, it felt so lonely, I just– I couldn't stop crying."

As he gently stepped forward, he could feel the loose soil underneath him shift and slip. Normally, he would have no concern. You're an auloniad, for crying out loud. Rocky terrain dotted with grass is your home. But the snake bite that pierced your ankle was bound to compromise your movement. He figured he'd just move slowly, for your sake.

"Ah, I fear my leg still hurts from the bite. Could you go a little slowly?"

As Seokmin carefully climbed the rugged steps, a thought popped into his head. Hades did not specify that he was forbidden from singing to himself. It just happened to be a coincidence that you overheard him. Humming to himself (and maybe to you, as well) he strummed the strings of his lyre.

"My favourite song!" you gushed. "Do you remember the first time you performed for me, at the Pineios River? Goodness, you just get better every single day!"

Normally, his song would penetrate through the deepest of depths, and his voice would triumph above all. But it all felt hollow like the darkness of those depths was consuming him whole and slowly pushing him back into the Underworld. He wished, so desperately, to know you were listening. Seokmin couldn't hear your steps or your breathing. It was haunting, how you weren't here on this long climb, yet he could vividly remember you. Grief is strange. How you must restrain yourself from looking back on memories of loved ones corrupted by their death.

"Please, turn around so I can get a good look at you. Don't you think I deserve that, at least?"

Maybe he was doomed. How could he know that Hades wasn't mocking him? The light which had guided Persephone to him and the passion which motivated him was being waned.

"Seokmin, why are you ignoring me?" your voice grew softer. "Is it something I said? Have I upset you? Please, just answer me already. You're making me nervous." You reached out for his hand, but he moved it away.

Feeling the chill of a cold wind brush past his palm, Seokmin moved it closer to his chest, hoping the Underworld hadn’t drained him of his life. When will he get to hold your hand again?

Knees buckling, he let out a sigh of relief that he was finally halfway up, already smiling knowing Apollo was waiting for him with the way the light grew even brighter.

"Darling, please, just talk to me. Say something." you huffed. "Why can't you just turn around!?" You hobbled on your ankle, trying to keep up with your lover, watching him disappear as he moved closer to the light. "I don't understand, what is wrong with you!? Please, just turn around already!" Your eyes began welling with tears, raising your voice as much as possible.

As Seokmin treaded higher up, he noticed the crack enlarge just enough so that he could pop his head through. He let out a long sigh of relief, as cold sweat dripped down his forehead, his knees stinging from exhaustion. What would be the first thing he would do with you on the Overworld? Roll in the grass? Breathe in the fresh air? Hoist you up and listen to your heart beating in your chest? Seokmin tries to think, but the Underworld is unforgiving. The air felt thick and heavy, gravity dragging him down as he tried to tear himself away from its clutches, taunting him that your death was inevitable and that he would soon be ensnared in the Underworld’s net. It casts doubt upon him. Does his music have the strength to pierce through the darkest of moments as he prides himself on? Was his passion enough? Was Hades and Persephone lying to him? The Gods are not exactly above toying with mortals, as that is their favourite pastime. Doubt settled in his mind.

Seokmin shook his head. He must stay firm. He mustn’t listen to the doubt in his mind and push through. He feared death. He feared the cold wind brushing behind his back, echoing how his story would end. Cold. Dark. Alone. He needed you back with him. He needed your body’s warmth, your light. He needed to die in your arms.

The grating sound of a rock falling off the ledge and into the abyss below obstructed Seokmin’s train of thought, realizing the sound could mean only one thing. “I got you!” he snapped his head back. Seokmin’s jaw dropped, realizing the horrible mistake he had made. “You finally turned around.” you weakly huffed, tears sparkling in the dark. Minghao had kept his word. You were otherworldly. Contrasting against the darkness, you were a bright star, shrouded in a bright white glow. Your beauty only made him even more upset, as his eyes grew wide with the realization he had squandered his last chance. This was easily a pardonable offence, if the spirits knew how to pardon. In their long-spent immortality, never could they empathize with Seokmin’s plight.

“I… thought.” Seokmin slowly blinked, tears dripping down his face. Breathing heavily, he tried to calm himself down. He thought you had fallen, and your body would crash against the ground like a fallen star. It wasn’t that his love for you was small, but that it was too much. It was overflowing and reckless, just like the nature of youth. He couldn’t resist turning around to help you, especially with the knowledge of your snakebite. The same stupid thing that sent you here. You frowned, heart hurting at the sight of your lover in disarray. Stepping forward, you cupped his face, your touch still lingering with the frost of the Underworld. “Darling, what’s wrong?” You tried to make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry.” he choked on his sobs. “I wasn’t supposed to turn around… but I just got so nervous, I thought you fell,” Seokmin confessed. “I’m an idiot. I failed you. I’m so… so… stupid. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Seokmin screwed his eyes shut, unable to muster the strength to look at what would happen to you now that he failed. Minghao hadn’t specified what would happen if he had failed. Would he send furies to tear you apart? Would he force him to drink poison?

“No! You’re not an idiot. Don’t be so cruel.” swiping your thumb against his cheek and wiping away his tears. “You’re so brave, coming all the way to rescue me… all because you love me. You failed… because you love me. I’m happy knowing that.” You smiled, knowing the bitter end that was to come to you. They needed to kill you twice for him to let you go. But you had to be strong, for his sake. He was strong enough to challenge the Underworld, the unforgiving end. He was strong enough to face death, his greatest fear, challenging its irreversibility. He was strong enough to defy the laws of nature. The least you could do was comfort him. “I’m so… proud of you.” your touch felt feather light against the heavy mortal flesh weighing him down. “Please… just look at me.”

“But, you’ll be gone!” Seokmin wailed. “I… I’m not strong enough for this! I can’t go on!”

“You are strong enough. So open your eyes.” your words gently coaxed him. Seokmin inhaled one last time, bracing himself for the horror he was about to witness. As his eyes fluttered open, you were gone as quickly as you had appeared before him. There was no dramatic murder, just a hazy glow left in where you were standing before him. That was how mortality worked, in the eyes of Gods. Mortals come and go on this Earth, in the span of a blink. Mortality, which feels like entering a room and just finding the exit. Mortality, which weighed Seokmin down, and held you in its clutches. It was a signal to him that it was time to wake up from the dream that was you. It was time for him to grow up and to accept mourning the loss of his muse. Falling to his knees, Seokmin sobbed, the noise drowned by the hollow abyss of the Underworld. His voice, which set him apart as a champion of Apollo, was indistinct from the rest of the wailing of the Underworld.

Maybe you will have a greater fate than him. You will drink from the River Lethe, whose waters flowed through the God of Sleep's cave, causing one to forget the mortal world. Sure, it meant you would forget the blisses and joys you shared above the surface, but it also meant you would forget the pain and sadness. You would wake up, yawning as you ponder the strange figure in your dream named "Seokmin". You would be reborn and would carve a path through the foreign wilderness of the underworld. You would be trapped in a moment, a distant memory of a time of idealistic, passionate, youthful bliss. You would be free. Like you were destined to be. Free from mortal anguish. Free from him. Your skin could never wrinkle, your hair couldn't gray, and your health wouldn't deplete.

Who knows what would have happened if you had returned to him in the mortal realm. Would the love between you dry up? Would your love only be immortalized in a contract, and not in real life? Maybe life will ravage your happy marriage and shred the love that once existed. You would part ways and leave him behind, as you could never truly be his. When would be the last time in your unhappy married life you tell him "I love you"? Would he bar the door when you got sick of him and tried to leave? Would he welcome your newfound hatred of him and show you the way out?

The memory of you would be his prized possession, something to draw inspiration for his music, to know he had the pleasure of experiencing such a love, and to wonder the many possibilities if he were successful in bringing you back. He was fine if you could just stay. It didn't matter if you only stayed in his memory and never talked to him again. But please, stay.

thank you so much for reading — @noircheols do not copy or translate ♧ mlist

#(Ⳋ᧙) - shut up sei!#(Ⳋ᧙) - reblogs #seokmin x reader #seokmin angst #seventeen x reader

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