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babyrdie · 10 days

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About mythological ships:

What is your OTP? (favorite romantic/sexual relationship)

What is your BROTP? (favorite platonic relationship)

What is your NOTP? (the opposite of OTP)

You can say more than one in each category if you want

First...for the love of god, no ship discourse. I'll block you if you send me an ask about ship discourse, even if you're anon (I'm talking to everyone reading this, not this specific anon).

OTP

Patroclus/Achilles. Reason: in short, I like the idea of a relationship so complex that no single label is good enough to describe its importance. I also like the "same person" theme represented by the sharing of armor and their ashes being mixed together.

Medea/Jason. Reason: I like their toxicity, the symbolism surrounding them, and the way in which they don't entirely conform to gender roles in Argonautica. Also, a woman with extremely questionable morality is adorable.

BROTP

Patroclus, Achilles and Antilochus. Reason: Antilochus is canonically Achilles' best friend and I like how Achilles cares for him in a similar way to how he cares for Patroclus. Antilochus' reaction to hearing of Patroclus' death was also touching. There's also the whole thing about them being in the same urn and generally being together in the afterlife.

This one is probably a bit of a cheat because they're literal brothers, but Ajax and Teucer. Reason: the whole idea of legitimate and illegitimate children, the way they fight as a duo, the comparison of Ajax to a mother in The Iliad, Teucer's reaction to Ajax's death, etc etc.

Again cheating because they're literal siblings, but the children of Pasiphae. Reason: the whole tragedy surrounding Ariadne, Phaedra and Minotaur is simply too good not to be intriguing.

NOTP

Helen/Menelaus/Paris. Reason: Menelaus always feels like an extra in this ship and I have no interest in OT3s that don't involve all three of them being equally involved. It feels VERY much like "Helen has two hands" or a way to make things better for Paris. Menelaus is just a tool to make things better for Helen or Paris or both.

Ganymede/Zeus. Reason: truth be told, I generally don't like ships that involve kidnapping and rape, but this one in particular is a strong NOTP because of how people who ship it deal with the subject as if it were just a sexy gay story and it was homophobia not to find it cute.

ANY slave x master dynamic. I don't care if the master praised the slave, if the slave was written as having some sort of positive feelings for the master, if it wasn't explicitly written that there was rape, what status did a concubine have, if the ancients saw them in a positive light. I do NOT and will not find things like Briseis x Achilles, Cassandra x Agamemnon, Chryseis x Agamemnon, Tecmessa x Ajax cute.

Apollo/Hyacinthus: nothing against the ship, but the fandom distanced me from any possible interest I could have.

Obviously, there are several other ships that I like, but they aren't OTP. For example, Perseus and Andromeda is cute, but they are far from being an OTP because unfortunately I don't know what Andromeda's personality is (it's really sad that there were several plays about her that were lost). Ariadne and Dionysus is also cool, but not an OTP. Etc, etc. Likewise, there are several other ships that I don't like, but I don't think they are on the NOTP level. For example, I don't ship Helen with anyone, but that doesn't mean I have anything strong against Helen x Paris or Helen x Menelaus. Likewise, for the most part I don't ship gods, regardless of the relationship. But it's not NOTP, I just don't ship them. Finally, there are obviously more platonic relationships that I like, but they're not BROTP.

#Ask #Anon #Birdie.txt

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galindadaae · 5 years

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Stumbling Kisses

okay we know the drill at this point we are on day 5!!!! a quarter of the way through this challenge already!!!

@hufflepuffhermione gave me this prompt: 2. moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

September 1923

She shouldn’t be doing this. She really shouldn’t be doing this. But she can’t seem to resist. She takes one look at him, at her husband, and she can’t keep her hands off of him. And with this new pregnancy, of which Matthew still knew none of, she has been more taken by him than ever.

They had started challenging each other- who would be the most daring in public, etc. Usually this just meant a hand a little lower on the back than normal, or Matthew’s hand resting on her knee under the table during dinner.

Now, halfway through the second course, she was already breaking new boundaries. As he talked to the person on his left (some poor bloke with the government named Charles), Mary’s hand rested on his knee. She saw his eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and grinned to herself. The game had begun. She loved having him at her mercy; almost as much as she enjoyed being completely at his.

This Charles (Charles Blake, Matthew had informed her) was researching estates in the aftermath of the war, and had recently been sticking his nose into all of their business. It was mind-numbingly boring. Talking of work all day is one thing, but at dinner there must be at least some more interesting topics. However, her husband (ever the gentleman), answered all of his questions clearly and concisely. Matthew was explaining to this interloper about their success with the Tamworth pigs when Mary’s hand moved to the middle of his thigh and squeezed. She didn’t even dare to look at him- instead maintaining the conversation she was having with Evelyn on her right. She heard a sharp intake of breath before a wheeze and coughing. Mary turned to Matthew in alarm. She had meant to tease her husband- not kill him!

But after a strong pat on the back from Charles, Matthew was able to quiet himself and resume the conversation. That’s enough for now, Mary thought. Wouldn’t want him to expend before dessert was served.

---

Mary let out a small whimper as the door to their room slammed behind her and she was backed up against it. Matthew was normally so gentle, but she honestly loved when he lost control- and she let him know. She was often concerned that all of the servants were listening in on their marital activities- but when he was doing that with his mouth and his hands were there she couldn’t bring herself to care.

He removed his lips from the sensitive spot behind her ear and set her free from the door. It was her turn now. She took off his jacket and kissed him so hard that he backed up. There was a moment of fear when he fell backwards, but it was only into his chair (one of Mary’s favorite spots to make love). She looked positively ravenous as she climbed onto him. From then on it wasn’t long until clothes were shed, cries mounted, and peaks were reached.

Afterward, as they sat together on the chair, skin sticky with sweat, Matthew kissed Mary’s temple. She sighed contentedly.

“You would think,” he spoke quietly, “that after how close George and Eleanor came, and after how much we’ve being doing that, that we would have a nursery full of children by now.”

“Well,” Matthew looked up at her quickly. “Maybe not full,” she said as she stroked the hair falling down in his face, “but still growing.” She smiled lightly and put his hand where their third child was growing.

Matthew didn’t have to say anything for Mary to feel his joy. She moved his hand off her abdomen and intertwined it with hers before kissing it. She grinned as she felt his other hand adjust to be able to stroke the bump that would soon make itself known.

She touched her forehead to his. “I know I don’t say it very often, but I love you….There’s no one I would rather live my life with.” He pulled away to kiss her forehead. They stayed like this for hours talking of everything and nothing before finally retiring to the bed in preparation for the next day.

#mary x matthew #downton abbey #mary crawley #matthew crawley #lady mary crawley #da #otp: andromeda and perseus #this is probably the raciest thing i have yet to write #but i think it is good so yay!!!

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kingmakings · 5 years

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You’ll be my Mary, always.

#downton abbey #downtonabbeyedit #downtonedit #weloveperioddrama #mary crawley #matthew crawley #mary x matthew #otp: perseus and andromeda #i was thinking about the downton film and it reminded me how much i love and miss them #mine #mine: gifs

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ladyinthebluebox · 6 years

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OTP Theme Song

I was tagged by the awesome @obvidalous to share a theme song for my OTP. Thanks for tagging me! <3

Oh god, oh god a theme song for Sybil and Reyes... I have countless fitting them in one way or another but I think that Enjoy the Silence (performed either by Anberlin or Ki:Theory) perfectly encapsulates one of my major HC for them.

All I ever wanted All I ever needed Is here in my arms Words are very unnecessary They can only do harm

You see, my HC is that they didn’t confess their feelings to each other. Well, not with any ‘I-love-yous’ at least.

For Andromeda and Garrus I chose Space in my Heart by Bernhoft. The moment I’ve heard this song for the first time a sort of ‘Shakarian lamp’ lit in my head... A mention of a velvet dress, floating in space and the whole tone of the song just fits them perfectly.

I’m tagging @perseus-huntress @vorchagirl @naromoreau @noonvraith & @starsandskies - 0 obligations ofc ;)

#lady got tagged #sybil ryder #andromeda shepard

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keithsauxia · 6 years

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ppl are super upset abt keith and acxa’s relationship this season and it seems like they never saw it coming. haha joke’s on y’all. my otp is canon and i (or we) get to be smug abt it (btw acxa was super hot this season i can’t handle it)

i knew we were gunna get this wave of misogyny but i’m still disappointed. everytime keith and acxa had moments it was shrugged off or people insisted she was his twin cousin sister aunt.

i use to go in the acxa tag a billion times a day now i haven’t seen this much hate since she shot lotor in the ass. its so upsetting, i got anons telling me i was wrong for pointing out the romantic heroic nature of keith and acxa’s meetcute and comparing it to the MOST common romance troupe ever (perseus, andromeda, giant beast about to devour her)

i wish we had it more played out but like. keith has BEEN ready to get to know her since she saved his life at the kral zera (which i guess ezor and zethrid saw??? lmao) that scene is what really solidified it. people just don’t wanna see what they don’t wanna see.

i made this blog after season 5 because there were 0 keith/acxa centric blogs. most people insisted they were related or were quiet. i wanted to make a space to celebrate a “monster/human” relationship where the girl was monster-coded because that shit is hot af. acxa is hot af.

i mean i blocked a billion people when i first went in the tag because of the sibling bs…guess we just gotta block a billion more and celebrate positivity with this ship where we can find it ❤️

#asks #kexa #keith/acxa

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fictile · 6 years

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9, 12, 13, 17 !!

ask your local archeology major !! ╱ accepting.

9. what are your top five otps?

odysseus / penelope thank you god bless

medea / revenge --- you have no idea

ares / otrera ( thanks steph )

icarus / the ocean

perseus / andromeda

dionysus / ariadne

12. who is your favorite poet? why?

I answered this [ here ] but didn’t say why whoOPS !! so homer because the odyssey is my favorite written work of all time but I think anyone who talks with me for any length of time knows this because I can’t shut up for the life of me lmao. sophocles because I love ?? studying the oedipus trilogy ( do NOT get me started wheezes ) which means you basically have to love sophocles or you seek death && aristophanes wrote my favortie greek comedies skfjdghsdfg ( the lysistrata is a riot )

13. if you could time-travel to the classical world for a day, where would you go and why?

screams why would you ask this of me !! I would go to minoan crete because 1. the minoans are my favorite ancient civilization 2. god I wish we knew their language / writing system sobs into my fists 3. I am one of the people who believes they were a matriarchal society ( which goes against so many civilization conventions but the evidence is there ) && if nothing else I just love the minoans so...

17. if you could recover one lost work, which one would it be?

also answered [ here ] and ALSO didn’t say why man I’m on a roll but !! the torjan cycle is a very very important piece of literature for the ancient greeks ( and modern society but that’s another story for another day ) but basically the entirety of ancient greek beliefs && what have you is structured off the the trojan cycle. their whole society based its principals on this myth set. I do not think there are words out there to describe how important this piece of literature was ( if nothing else the romans inserted themselves into it for a reason ) and we only have two tiny portions of it --- like think on that a whole culture developed around one myth and we have two small books. what the fuck. where is the rest of it ??

also the odyssey is my favorite story && odysseus is my favorite greek hero thanks for coming to my ted talk !!

#seaprofound #╰ *．asks.#soft screaming from my corner of hell

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thalsrph · 6 years

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Thank you for tagging me !

tagged by: @garnetrph

rules: choose any three fandoms (in random order) and answer the questions, then tag 10 people you want to know better

i choose:

The Legend of Aang/Korra

Chuck

Greek Mythology

the first character you loved:

Azula, Toph & Lin Beifong

Agent Casey (actual spirit animal)

Selene & Patroclus

the character you never expected to love so much:

Zaheer

Jeff

Ares

the character you relate to the most:

Toph

Agent Casey

Eris

the character you’d slap:

Katara

Agent Bryce & Sarah

Zeus

three favorite characters (in order of preference):

Toph, Lin Beifong, Iroh

Casey, Lester, Big Mike (and Captain Awesome I cry hes hilarious)

Patroclus, Eris, Ares

a character you liked at first but don’t anymore:

Suki (in my optinion, they just made her so bland ?? like I was hoping for so much more from her)

Ellie

Paris

a character you did not like at first but now do:

Zaheer

Diane Beckman

Orpheus

three OTPs:

Toph x Sokka, Mai x Zuko, Korra x Asami

tbh I do not ship anything (most definitely not Sarah & Chuck, I just like the humor ??? I completely agree with Casey when he says "Great! The Most Annoying Romance In My Life Is Finally Over! Downstairs Now. Come On!") I guess I ship Casey and his job (at buy more and as an agent)

Patroclus x Achilles, Perseus x Andromeda, Selene x Endymion

i tag: @sarahsrp @rcserph @pocmuzings @hvrringtvns @shackleboltrps @kaivstherpc @adriarps @parkhyesoo @sunlitrpt @lynrps & @ anyone else who wants to do this as well!

#tag game.

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galindadaae · 5 years

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Neck Kisses

It is day three of my challenge with Alli @hufflepuffhermione and i got the prompt : following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck.

This accidentally turned into a short one-shot, and will likely be continued at some point.

November 1941

Mary resolutely continued her mission to ignore her husband. She had made it through dinner, and only had to make it through the tedium of the drawing room before she could retire. Although, she mused, when it was time for bed she would have to decide whether or not to banish Matthew to the dressing room.

As Matthew tried to catch her eyes across the table, Mary turned her head to their middle child, Mabel. She asked her about her day, and while she listened to Mabel’s response her eyes wandered back to Matthew. His jaw was clenched, and he cut at the food on his plate with more vigor than was decidedly necessary. Good, she thought. That’s what he deserves after his behavior.

Soon enough dinner came to an end, and the family moved into the drawing room. Matthew sighed in relief as he was finally alone. He drank his port quickly- he never stayed long now that Robert had passed and he was Lord Grantham. The news of a second world war had finished him, and he succumbed to a heart attack just three months after the war began. The last bit slid down his throat. He put the glass down less-than-delicately, and walked to where his family was waiting. Now he could finally talk to his wife. But as he wandered over she flitted away, preferring to talk to their children that had remained home during wartime- Mabel, Cecilia, and Billy.

He knew she was worried about how the war was affecting the members of the family that had remained at home. It was her way of compensating for not being able to check in on her eldest son and eldest daughter. She had once confided in him that she didn’t think she could be a good mother- that her cold upbringing wouldn’t allow her to connect with their children until they were older and out of the nursery (after all, that’s what had happened to her). Matthew watched her casually moved her hand over Billy’s back absentmindedly whilst listening to Mabel and Cecilia bicker. He never had any doubts.

He didn’t know what was bothering her, but decided to let it be until they returned to their room. Instead he spoke to his youngest until it was the boy’s bedtime. Matthew decided that, as the girls were still chatting incessantly, he would head to bed. Maybe it would hasten her return to their sanctuary.

As he bid his daughter’s goodnight, Mary looked at the floor. He thought she looked particularly emotional in that moment, but brushed it off. It was childish of him, but she had been ignoring him. If she wanted to speak to him, then she would. Matthew apparently had done something wrong, and he nearly stomped up the stairs like a child in frustration. She was acting like how they did in 1914 so many years ago. He thought they had gotten past this.

An hour later he had changed and read in bed until he heard the door. He sat silently as Anna helped Mary ready herself for bed. Anna could sense the tension between the couple even without words (maybe the lack of words was the biggest clue). Mary sat at her vanity, rubbing lotion into her hands, and looked at him through the mirror before dropping her eyes and saying, “I think it would be best if you slept in the dressing room tonight.”

Matthew was silent for a few seconds. “Excuse me?” he said in disbelief. He was only home from the war office for three days. He hadn’t been back to him home in almost a month- and she was banishing him from their room? “For what reason?”

“I wasn’t aware that I needed one. After all, it is my room.” She bit back, but there was too much emotion in her voice for him to remain unconcerned.

“Mary, look at me.” He waited until she did. He walked over to the vanity where she sat, looking particularly small and helpless. “What’s wrong?”

She huffed and got up. She walked to their bed and pulled back the covers with more vigor than was entirely necessary. “You know,” he said from across the room, “I can’t apologize for anything when I don’t know what I’ve done.”

Her eyes were icy as they looked at him. He shrugged. The casual gesture finally pushed Mary over the edge.

“How could you?”

Matthew looked startled by the venom in her voice. “How could I what?”

“You didn’t tell me about the bombings you and Eleanor got caught in.” Her voice lowered. “You didn’t tell me that you helped others get in before you, and that you barely made it into a safe place before the bombs fell. You didn’t tell me that this had happened three times in the last two weeks.” He walked over to the bed and kneeled into front of her.

“I can’t shirk my duty, Mary. I made sure Eleanor would be safe, but there were others I needed to help.”

“Others to help? What about your family?” What about our lives together?

“What about the families of everyone living in London? Darling, we aren’t special.” Mary remained silent, and Matthew kissed her on the cheek. He heard her sigh, and moved his lips to her lips. She kissed him back softly, and he moved his lips down her neck. He was only home for three days, and he could never get enough of her. He began to move her negligee to gain access to her chest when she pulled away. She walked to the door and opened it.

“The dressing room.” His jaw dropped slightly. He saw tears streaming down her cheeks. He walked over to her. Oh, Mary. His hand moved of its own accord to wipe them away, but she turned so he couldn’t reach her face. “Please, Matthew.” She finally looked at him, eyes clear. “I can’t sleep next to a man who doesn’t value his life with me.”

Matthew was indignant. “Mary, nothing matters to me more than the lives we built together!”

“Evidently not!” She threw back, “As you seem perfectly content to help others even if it means leaving your family behind!” She took a shuddering breath. “We need you, Matthew. I need you.”

And despite these words, she gestured for him to walk out the door.

He did.

#mary x matthew #downton abbey #mary crawley #matthew crawley #lady mary crawley #da #otp: andromeda and perseus #a couple minutes late because i had to format this for tumblr #should i continue this??????

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galindadaae · 5 years

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Morning Kisses

@hufflepuffhermione and I have started a challenge for ourselves based off of this post

we are going to go back and forth giving each other prompts and each time one of us finishes a prompt we choose the next one and the other person has 24 hours to write at least 400 words with the kisses in them.

alli gave me (our first of twenty of these) number 6 for our prompt

6.lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up

July 1931

Mary sighed quietly as Matthew shifted once more under the covers. She found that with her fifth (and quite unexpected) pregnancy that she was unable to sleep in as she used to. In fact, with her previous children, all she had wanted to do was sleep.

But this child was different- all it wanted to do was move at all hours of the night. Despite reaching her fourth month of pregnancy, Mary and Baby had yet to sleep through the night. Matthew, of course, worried incessantly for her. He would find Mary either dead on her feet when he returned home from being out on the estate with Tom, or taking a nap on their bed.

Mary couldn’t mind the inconvenience too much when she thought about how unlikely it was for her to be pregnant at all for a fifth time- they had been sure they were done after four. She smiled to herself. “All alone in Eaton Square”- that’s what she had once stated as her greatest desire. Now she rested her hand on the swell that was beginning to show and thought of the house full of children she and Matthew created.

He turned over once more in his sleep so he was facing her once more. She admired the elegant profile of his nose, the blond hair (with the occasional white strand), and the way his mouth moved as if he was speaking in his dream. He whispered her name softly, still asleep, and she couldn’t resist leaning in to lightly kiss his nose. She hadn’t meant to wake him up. (In fact, watching him sleep was sometimes the only thing that would allow her body more time to rest.)

He muttered something indistinguishable and scrunched up his nose, which she found adorable (and would only ever admit to him).

“I’m sorry,” she whispered with a light laugh, “What was that?”

“What time is it?”

“Why darling, it is half past five.” He groaned, wiping his hand across his eyes before finally opening them slightly.

“Is Baby keeping you up again?” He asked. Mary nodded.

“But I don’t mind,” she responded. “It gives me an opportunity to spy on you.” He smiled, but hers faded slightly as she continued. “I feel like I rarely see you anymore.”

Matthew frowned. She was right. The last couple of years had been especially tight on their finances, but hardest on others. Because of that, Matthew had been putting in extra hours to work on the estate and maximize efficiency, while Mary would often head to village to help out the locals how she could. She often brought their horde of children along with her (George, Eleanor, Mabel, and Cecilia). With everything going on in their lives, Matthew would often even miss dinner. Mary knew he would only be working so much to protect them and their children’s future, but she also missed her husband and knew their children missed their father. However, that was a conversation for a later date.

“Never mind that,” Mary continued. Matthew simply pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest, with his hand moving over the bump signifying the growth of their child. “I’m sorry for waking you, you can go back to sleep.” He sighed, but said nothing. They would leave it for now. She could hear his breathing evening out, and felt her own fall into time with his. There were still a couple hours until they had to part.

Mary settled for continuing to watch the sun pour into their bedroom- but was pleasantly surprised to find Baby resting and her eyes closing of their own accord.

The next thing she remembered was Anna coming in to open their curtains. Mary turned around in Matthew’s embrace, and as soon as Anna was gone, touched her lips to his. She felt him smile and kiss her back, taking the lead as she always let him do. Mary then expected him to pull away, but he continued. She asked between kisses about him getting up for the day, but he mumbled something incoherent in response. She made a confused noise in her throat, and he stopped to speak more clearly.

“This is far more important.” And he brought his lips back down to her chest as she gasped, her eyes flying open. He may have helped her fall asleep earlier, but now she was wide awake. She knew him so well, yet he managed to still surprise her every day. She didn’t think she would ever tire of it. Or him. Or their children. But most of all, their life together, through good times and bad.

#mary x matthew #downton abbey #mary crawley #matthew crawley #lady mary crawley #20 kisses challenge #otp: andromeda and perseus #da

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galindadaae · 7 years

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james joyce

#downton abbey #mary x matthew #mary crawley #matthew crawley #downtonedit #otp: andromeda and perseus #da #I actually love the way this turned out and it only took a second to make

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galindadaae · 7 years

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-Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë

#mary x matthew #downton abbey #mary crawley #matthew crawley #da #otp: andromeda and perseus #my kidsss #this quote is perfect for them

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galindadaae · 7 years

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2017 Matthew x Mary Secret Santa!!

THANK YOU @orangeshipper Mary and Matthew have helped me through some of the toughest times of my life, and as such a great fic writer you were a huge part of that!! It was just as great of a gift to receive a present from you as the writing itself!

Merry Christmas!!

Better late than never, I hope you’ll enjoy this offering… I’ve decided to very happily revisit my All That Is Left universe!

In order to cover both happily married M/M (plus family), whilst still enjoying a bit of good old S2 angst, I’ve gone for Christmas 1918 - so Matthew’s home and the war is over, buuuuut, he’s still in his wheelchair. For reference (I’m sure I saw in your tags somewhere you’ve read ATiL!! I hope so!), Matthew and Mary having been married since the outbreak of war, their daughters Mabel (Bel) and Catherine (Kit) are around 3.5 and 1.5 respectively. This snippet would come between Chapters 24/25. If you haven’t read it, well, I hope you enjoy this snapshot of Matthew & Mary from it!

I wish you such a lovely Christmas, and all the very best for 2018. I’ve not followed you long on Tumblr, but I’m so glad that I started! Happy, Happy Christmas! And with that… I so much hope you enjoy the fic!

Claire (OrangeShipper) :) :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Matthew awoke, though his eyes remained shut, he knew that it must be Christmas. They’d gone to bed shortly before midnight (he hadn’t been able to face the humiliating performance of getting to church for mass, even if it had been possible at all), and his fitful sleep had seemed long enough that it must be Christmas morning now.

He couldn’t feel Mary beside him, though there was warmth there that meant she was not long risen.

He couldn’t feel his legs, still, either.

Eyes opening in the darkness, his jaw set with determination as his hands clasped firmly up and down his thighs. Sometimes, just sometimes, he thought there was something… A whisper, a tingling, like pins and needles but never for more than a second or two, and each time his heart leapt… But Clarkson was sure it was nothing, and he didn’t dare to hope.

God, it was miserable. It was three years since he’d spent Christmas at home, and it had been the happiest of his life. He’d seen Mabel for the first time, and he and Mary had danced, loved, been together, so completely and so happily. The two intervening years he’d been at the front, and had missed them so terribly. What he wouldn’t have given, then, in the frozen mud and biting cold and restless, uneasy boredom, to have been with them at home. They’d made as much celebration of it as they could, and the fighting had held off in an unspoken truce for a merciful day or two. But oh, how he’d longed to be here instead. And now he was… yet a small, treacherous part of him longed to go back, because then at least he’d been able to walk, and the dream of making love to his wife hadn’t been an entirely impossible one, or the prospect of swinging his daughters up into his arms and… he’d been able to live. However much progress he’d made in accustoming to his new life over the past few months, he wasn’t sure yet that he’d ever fully accept it, or that the bitter sting of misery and regret would ever fully leave him.

He leaned across to the lamp, switching it on to see that he must have had a reasonable sleep after all, as it was now six o’clock. A quiet knock echoed from the door, which Matthew found belonged to Bates when he bid him come in.

“Good morning, Mr Crawley - I’ve come at Lady Mary’s request, to see if you were awake to sit you up a bit. And, may I say, Merry Christmas!”

“Is it, Bates, really?” Matthew returned with a sigh, as he worked with the valet’s help to sit up against the pillows. He couldn’t say as such to Mary, he knew, but Bates at least would understand.

“Yes, Sir, it is. Because you’re here, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Damn it, man, can’t you just agree with me for once instead of being so unfailingly optimistic?”

There was a light-hearted glint in his eye, and Bates chuckled warmly.

“Not on Christmas Day, I’m afraid.”

“Ah well. Optimism it is, then. Thank you, Bates - and Merry Christmas, too.”

He wasn’t left waiting for long after Bates had gone, and Mary’s absence when he’d woken became clear. The door cracked open and her face peered round, shining with excitement, breaking into a laugh as the door flew back and two small figures in their nightdresses hurtled in.

“Papa! Happy Christmas!” Mabel cried, with an indecipherable echo from Catherine, who clutched at the covers as her older sister helped shunt her up onto the bed.

“Merry Christmas, my darling little ones… What a lovely surprise to wake up to!” Matthew’s smile now was helplessly wide as both girls clambered their way onto his lap. “Thank you,” he murmured to Mary, settling in beside him.

He welcomed her soft kiss, but only for a moment as Mabel tugged at the collar of his pyjamas.

“Got you something, Papa! Close you eyes-”

“Present!” Catherine mumbled, tugging her thumb from her lips to clap as Matthew dutifully shut his eyes, waiting until he felt a small package pressed into his hands before opening them again.

“Well, what’s this?” He slipped off the ribbon.

“Only something little,” Mary smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. Mabel bounced with excitement, as Catherine looked expectantly on.

The wrapping paper slid to the floor, and Matthew’s eyes lit then stung with tearful affection as he turned the small Bible over in his hands. Small enough to fit in his pocket, soft leather, and just inside the cover… a photograph of Mabel and Catherine sitting together (recent, he could tell), and on the page behind it their full names and dates of birth. Underneath was written, in Mary’s elegant script, ‘With so much love, from all your darling girls.’

“Oh, my dears… Thank you, so much.”

“We choosed it, with Mama,” Mabel chattered as Matthew hugged both girls tightly, “and sat so still for the picture!”

“S’pretty,” mumbled Catherine around her thumb.

“You like it, Papa?”

He beamed, eyes glittering as he kissed the top of her head, then Catherine’s, blonde curls and dark that shone softly in the lamplight.

“Very, very much. I’ll keep it with me always.”

Mary rubbed his arm, thrilled to see his delight. “That was the idea, darling… Like a proper family Bible, but one that you can keep with you. For when you feel you need it.”

His smile trembled, and he held back a sigh. Darling Mary, she knew him so well. He’d had a pocket Bible with him at the front, of course; he’d tried to seek comfort in it when everything felt so senseless and dark. It hadn’t helped much but, still, he’d tried. Somehow it had been lost when he was wounded. They hadn’t spoken about it much, but Mary must have guessed that his faith had been terribly shaken by the pitiful state he’d been left in… and he wasn’t yet sure it was recovering, as all his prayers went unanswered. But at least, when he was ready to look again, now he’d have this - with his precious family safe in it too.

—————

The war might have been officially over, but still it lingered in Downton. While many of the convalescents had chosen (and been able) to return to their homes for the Christmas season, a fair number still remained, and the family and hospital staff tried to make the day as celebratory for them as they could. The decorations weren’t quite so lavish as before the war, but lent a cheerful atmosphere at least, with a modest tree in the hall and another in the small library, where the family now were enjoying their lunch and the rest of their gifts.

Matthew had remembered that they served themselves for this one day of the year, while the servants enjoyed their Christmas dinner downstairs… but hadn’t counted on the difficulty of doing so from his wheelchair. After trying unsuccessfully to manoeuvre himself whilst serving food to a plate balanced on his lap, and thanking God that no one seemed to have noticed his failure, he accepted Mary’s assistance and the excuse of holding Catherine while Mabel tumbled with Isis between everyone’s legs.

“Don’t you want to play, too, Kit?” he murmured against her hair.

“No,” she shook her head slowly, tracing sticky fingers over the colourful pages of a new storybook in her lap. “This!”

“Alright. Here, shall we read it again?” He smiled at the little girl’s eager nod, and turned the pages back to the start, reading softly until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Here’s your lunch, darling,” Mary passed him the laden plate (which smelt delicious), then lifted Catherine into her arms. “Come on Kit, let’s see what there is for you. Bel - no, watch where you’re going - yes, you too, you can play with Isis again once you’ve had something to eat.”

“Does Isis need lunch too?”

“I’m sure she does, my darling, but not from you!”

“Don’t worry,” Robert said fondly, “Mrs Patmore will make sure she’s well fed later on.”

Mabel seemed content with that, and trotted to the settee where Mary sat with Catherine, with Matthew’s wheelchair beside. Her small hands tried to smooth the creases from her dress - Matthew noticed his wife’s little frown, and smiled as he knew she withheld the chastisement that would normally come, because it was Christmas.

In the pleasant lull that came from full bellies and the calm after the morning’s excitement, Robert clapped his hands together.

“Right! Now we’ve all had a chance to recover somewhat, let’s get it out, then!” He stood and made his way to the sparkling new gramophone displayed on the table.

“Now?” Violet clasped her cane, raising her eyebrows. “Is that really necessary?”

“Oh, yes!” Sybil cried, as even Edith smiled beside her, “It is Christmas, Granny…”

Cora joined Robert beside it, and rifled through the few records there.

“Quite right. Mary, Matthew - thank you again, so much. What a lovely thing to bring some joy after the year we’ve all had.”

Matthew smiled graciously and nodded, feeling Mary take his hand and squeeze it. They’d ordered it months ago, and even after he’d been wounded it still seemed a lovely idea, a pleasant distraction from the darkness that still threatened at times to overwhelm him.

Though they were all a bit cramped in the small library, a reasonable space was somehow cleared, and as jaunty music crackled into the air the mood became infectious. Robert and Cora turned sedately together, while Sybil danced wildly with Mabel, and Isobel a little more carefully with Catherine, as the rest of the family watched with beaming smiles.

Matthew watched his daughters, his heart full. Mary’s hand was still in his own, slender and soft, and he turned to look at her. Her face shone, her smile wide as she watched the scene too. God, he loved her.

“You should dance with your Papa,” he said quietly.

She turned, her eyes meeting his, and though she tried to hide it he could see the sadness encroaching on her smile.

“Not just now. I’m perfectly happy here, with you.”

“Mary…” His voice cracked, and he gripped her hand more tightly. “Just because I’m stuck here, sitting-”

“Darling, please don’t-”

“No, I - I’d love to see you dance. I mean… of course, of course I’d far rather dance with you myself, but I… Oh God, Mary…”

It hit him like a blow to the chest, the finality of it, and he could barely breathe under its weight. Never being able to stand, or walk, was hard enough, but this… To never dance with his wife, or his daughters, to never feel that joy of movement and ache of love with those he held the dearest… It was such a little thing, but such a desperately unbearable prospect, he couldn’t bear it.

Her hand was at his cheek, her thumb stroking comfort, as she murmured, “It’s alright, darling…”

“It isn’t,” he gasped. “It's… damned hard.”

He felt himself falter, and was desperately grateful that Mary saw it, and rose swiftly to take him out before anyone else could see. That last thing he wanted was to cast a gloom on everyone else’s day, but how could he help it, wretched as he was? His jaw clenched tightly as they wheeled across the hall to the dining room, the nearest private space they could get to, where he finally broke down in his wife’s arms. She held him tightly, perched on a chair beside him, arms around his heaving shoulders and her cheek against his hair. She held him as long as he needed, as sobs began to subside to ragged, slowly calming breaths.

“Sorry for blubbing,” he whispered at last, scrubbing away his tears.

“Don’t be.” Mary held his face, kissed his cheeks with such tenderness, and stroked his hair back. “Don’t ever be sorry for that, darling. What can I do?”

With a sniff, Matthew turned his face into her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm as he clasped it.

“Well…” he said, with a trembling smile, “it would truly give me joy to see you enjoying yourself, my darling. So please, take me back in, and go and dance with your Papa, or with Bel and Kit. They’re having a marvellous time, aren’t they?”

She chuckled, kissing him softly on her way to stand.

“Yes, I think so! And so much better for you being here, too.”

“I know.”

If anyone had noticed them leave, no-one said a word when they returned, for which Matthew was grateful. Mary rubbed his shoulders affectionately before going over to Robert, and Matthew watched them dance, with a more heartfelt smile than he’d mustered all day. Catherine had exhausted herself dancing (Mabel showed no such sign of tiring yet), and toddled up to climb into his lap, with a helping hand from Isobel who sat down beside him.

“It’s a lovely sight, isn’t it,” she said happily, and Matthew couldn’t say how glad he was that she didn’t ask if he was alright, or anything else like that. She rubbed his arm instead, and that was enough to let him know how proud she was, and how pleased she was that he was here, and to reassure him that he was quite entitled to feel as miserable as he liked, and how she wished she could bear his pain instead. He knew it, because it was the same assurance Mary always gave, and he could see that the others felt it too in that glint of sympathy behind every smile, however they tried to hide it. Still, he was glad that none of them said it, because no-one’s sympathy could help.

He focussed instead back on the sight she’d drawn attention to, of his family dancing, so happily, and their smiles that radiated in the firelight. He held Catherine tighter on his lap.

“The loveliest,” he agreed.

—————————

“Happy Christmas, darling,” Mary murmured later that night, as they lay in bed together fighting off sleep to enjoy these last moments of peace in the quiet of night. He felt her curl against him, her arm slung over his waist, and his fingers played along the smooth skin of her shoulder.

“You, too… I can hardly believe we’ve been married four years, and it’s only the second I’ve spent with you. My darling, I'm… so happy to be with you. You know that, don’t you?”

She leaned up to face him, and tickled his chin. The memories of those early days when he’d honestly, truly rather wished he were dead had faded, somewhat, but still stung to think of.

“Absolutely, I do. I know it isn’t easy.”

He sighed, and brought her hand to his lips.

“It’s easy when I’m with you,” he said, and felt her shiver against him. Pulling her closer, he kissed her, eyes falling closed as his lips parted to hers, with such delicate tenderness it made him ache. Everything was easier with Mary, when it was just them (and their darling, innocent girls who were happy without question), alone and without intrusion… it was all so much easier to bear. Her warmth, her kiss, her gentle, loving hands, all helped him forget… helped him feel happy.

His hand slipped into her hair, like silk between his fingers. It was rare now that they kissed like this, it seemed always too tempting and too taunting a reminder of what they could not, now, do… but it was Christmas, and he loved her, and she tasted so wonderfully sweet… He hummed at the delicate tease of her tongue, felt her fingers skim down to his belly, with a sharp gasp as a shiver shot down his spine and down to his toes.

He was shocked into stillness, and their eyes flew open, breathless in the darkness.

“I love you,” he whispered fiercely, before she could ask what it was. “My God, Mary… I love you so much.”

He couldn’t bear to tell her, to let her hope, even the slightest bit. Not when it was most likely nothing… just the memory of a feeling, that was all, and it had been so brief he wasn’t sure (as with the other few times) if he’d imagined it after all. He filed it to the back of his mind. He’d prayed, and wished over the Christmas pudding (at Edith’s insistence they all did), that one day a miracle would come… It must just be wishful thinking.

His wife’s hand stroked affectionately through his hair, pushing it back from where it flopped over his forehead.

“I know you do,” she said, punctuated by one more soft kiss. “I love you, too… so terribly much. I hope you’ve had a happy day, however hard it’s been.”

“I’ve tried to,” he laughed gently, “for everyone’s sake - and I have, really. It started off quite perfectly… and it means the world to know that I’ll never miss Christmas with you again, not one. And you know, I can enjoy the gramophone’s music from my chair… Anyway I think Bel, particularly, will dance quite enough for the both of us!”

“I think you might be right!”

“And it was lovely to steal you away for a walk, briefly, in spite of the cold. Dinner was perfectly divine, and, well… I must say I’m enjoying our end to the day, too…” He kissed her nose, and grinned. “Merry Christmas, my darling girl.”

His arms wrapped around her, holding her close as she took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly, murmuring against his lips,

“And here’s to many more…”

~~~~~~~~~

Happy Christmas! xx

#MM secret Santa 2017 #mary x matthew #mary crawley #matthew crawley #downton abbey #otp: andromeda and perseus #da #submission

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