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sequinsmile-x · 4 months ago

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A Lot of Lonely Places

She used to be good at being alone.

-x-

Hi friends,

Truly could not tell you where this came from. Opened my laptop, opened google docs and started writing and here we are.

I hope you enjoy it, and as always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She used to be good at being alone.

She used to pride herself on it. Full of false bravado about how she excelled in her own company that was borne out of necessity, a side effect of her mother’s job that had left her with no other choice. She was good at being alone and she enjoyed it. She’d painted a lonely picture as a kid, something that had followed her into her teenage years and early adulthood. It was only in college, when she spent four years in one place - the longest she ever had - that she started to make stronger connections. Threads of convenience and coincidence that tied her and her friends together during that time, holding them close until drunken promises before graduation that they’d always have each other turned out to be lies. They’d drifted apart, seeing each other only at reunions and organised events, and she knew she wasn’t blameless. She hadn’t been great at keeping in contact, not entirely used to having people to stay in contact with. It was something that slipped away entirely when she’d joined Interpol, her work not something that allowed the connections she had once treasured.

Even though she’d barely spent time alone when she was eventually with Ian, something he ensured by always having people around her, she’d felt lonely. At first, it had been drowned by the ever-present fear she’d be caught. That he’d see through her practised lies and kill her before she could call for backup. As that faded, as time made it clear he’d fallen for her charm and the skills she’d honed at a young age, the loneliness took over. The strange desire to hear someone call her by her actual name one that never quite went away.

Returning to her actual life was overwhelming. She was suddenly surrounded by people who knew who she really was. Every single one of them telling her she’d done an excellent job before it was all classified, anything she’d done a secret to anyone who didn’t already know. It made the loneliness bone-deep, so much a part of her she wasn’t sure she’d ever be without it, but it also made it easier to pretend it never happened. To file it away into one of the boxes in her head, the lid of it liable to slip away whenever she heard an Irish accent or smelt expensive whisky and cigar smoke.

When she joined the BAU, her sense of self pieced back together after her time as Lauren Reynolds, and a fake background typed out on a piece of paper, she wasn’t sure what she’d find. A small part of her hoped she would make friends, something that felt childish and misplaced after everything she’d seen and done, and even that had been dashed by some of the team's initial reaction to her. The mistrust she’d since learnt was a defence mechanism, particularly on Aaron’s part, more painful than she cared to admit even to herself.

She never expected that she’d find a family, that she’d find people who felt like home. People she would, and eventually did, die for. It made the loneliness in Paris even sharper. Nights that would have once been spent drinking with JJ and Penelope, or watching kid's movies with Aaron and Jack, long and painful as she lived under a name they did not know. She treated the loneliness like a penance, something she deserved for the lies that had led her there, the choices she could never regret but wished hadn’t happened. She got used to it again. The loneliness. The silence that came with it. She got used to it but every now and again it would weigh heavily on her chest, crushing it inwards until it became unbearable. Gasping sobs would steal the air from her lungs until she’d eventually cry herself to sleep, ready to be tortured by dreams of everything she had lost.

When she came home, unsteady and unsure of her place in the life she’d built herself, she was overwhelmed again. Everyone’s desire to see her, to spend time with her they thought they’d never get again, almost too much to take. She’d sought out time on her own, would issue white lies that tasted bitter as she told her friends she was tired or had other plans just so she could sit on her couch alone, the television and radio off, the silence a comforting blanket as she tried to learn to be herself again.

As time went on, she found her footing. Found her new place in her new life, the broken pieces of her old one at her feet no longer a tripping hazard, but the very thing she used as a foundation for what she had now.

Loneliness became a thing of her past, something she knew she could thank Aaron, and by extension Jack, for. The day after their conversation on the jet, when she kept her side of the deal and admitted she was having a bad day, Aaron showed up at her apartment. He was casually dressed, or as casual as she’d ever seen him at the time in jeans and a polo shirt, and he said he was there to help her unpack. To this day, she had no idea how he knew she hadn’t unpacked, how he knew that her meagre belongings that hadn’t been sold on after she died were still in boxes. She’d let him in, too tired to argue with him, and she’d let him help without argument - something she now knew was a sign of just how much she trusted him even when she wasn’t sure she could trust herself. He’d turned her mood around that day, had arrived to her on the edge of a panic attack and left her laughing, her smile shining with adoration as he dryly told her about something Dave had done whilst she was away.

He’d come back the following weekend, with Jack and breakfast from their favourite diner in tow, matching smiles on their faces as they told her they were there to cheer her up, and it had been a tradition ever since. Something that followed her and Aaron from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and now husband and wife.

She was never alone now and if she ever was, she was terrible at it. On the rare occasion she was in the house alone she’d struggle. She was used to Aaron’s laugh, or the low timbre of his voice that would travel even through closed doors. She was used to Jack’s excited chatter, or the sound of his video games or cartoons he loved. When it was just her, it was too quiet, something she’d try and counteract by turning on the television or simply calling her husband and asking him when he’d be home. She’d feel nothing short of absurd for it, and she knew a past version of herself would mock her for it, but she loved having him near. Loved the reassurance of his presence, and the only thing that stopped her from chastising herself for it was that she knew Aaron was the same.

The team made fun of them for it. They’d gently tease them for how they would gravitate towards each other, never able to be too far away as if they felt unsteady if they were. In the same breath as they made fun of them their friends would tell them they were happy for them, that they both deserved what they had now.

___

She sighs contentedly as she wakes up, stretching her limbs as she rolls onto her back, a yawn escaping her as she reaches for her husband's side of the bed. She furrows her brows when she finds it empty, the sheets cold to the touch, and she sits up, her eyes flicking to the also empty bassinet on her side of the bed. A quick glance at the alarm clock, and the lack of daylight streaming in through the curtains, let her know it’s 3.35 am, that she’s likely been pulled from sleep by the cold emptiness of her bed as well as the dull ache starting to build in her breasts.

Even though she knows that they’re safe, that Aaron will have taken their little girl downstairs to give her some more rare and precious sleep, she’s still met with momentary panic. It greets her like an old friend as it wraps its hand around her throat, stealing the breath from her lungs before she can reason with herself, memories of when she was alone and being hunted by the man who had killed her briefly overwhelming. She shakes her head and blows out a slow breath and she shoves the covers off her as she climbs out of bed.

“Get it together, Emily,” she mumbles to herself, grabbing Aaron’s robe from the back of the bedroom door as she passes it, wrapping it around herself to warn off the slight chill in the air.

She checks in on Jack on the way past, takes a moment to rearrange his bedding around him and kisses his forehead before she sneaks back out of his room, not wanting to wake him on a night when he’d somehow slept through his baby sister’s cries. She finds Aaron and the baby exactly where she knew she would, snuggled up on the couch together with only the light of a single lamp in the corner of the room illuminating them. She can’t help but smile as she walks into the living room, her chest aching with love at the sight of her little girl fast asleep on Aaron’s chest, her cheek squashed against his t-shirt and a line of drool visible even in the low light.

“Can I join this party, or is it invite only?” She asks, careful to stay quiet, to not startle him or wake up their daughter.

Aaron turns to look at her, his smile soft and sleepy, and he removes one hand from Violet’s back to tap the couch next to him, “You’re always invited,” he replies, just as quietly as he presses a kiss to the dark hair on the newborn’s head, ��Right, Vi? Mommy can always join us.”

Emily crosses the room and sits next to him, immediately snuggling into his side, sneaking under the blanket he had draped over his lap. She rests her head on his shoulder and reaches out to run her knuckles up and down Violet’s soft cheek. “Is she okay? You could have woken me up.”

“She’s fine,” he says, turning his head to kiss her temple, smiling when she tilts her head to capture it, his lips slightly chapped against hers, “She was fussing, but I think she just wanted to cuddle,” he smiles as he pulls back, “Now I may lack the facilities to feed her, but I’ve got it on good authority I give amazing hugs,” his smile gets wider as she lovingly rolls her eyes, “So I thought I’d let you rest until she did need feeding.”

Emily hums gratefully, kissing the corner of his mouth before she rests her temple against his cheek, unable to tear her gaze away from the sleeping baby, “Daddy really does give the best hugs, sweet girl,” she says, her words disappearing into a laugh as more drool lands on Aaron’s t-shirt, “Although, I used to be the only girl allowed to drool on him,” she strokes her daughter’s head, following the swirl of dark hair. It was the very first part of her that Emily had touched, encouraged to reach between her legs by her doctor and feel the top of her little girl’s head when labour was starting to feel like it was too much, “I guess I can share him with you though.”

Aaron chuckles and wraps his arm around her, tugging her closer as he securely holds Violet close with one arm, “Did we wake you?”

Emily shakes her head, “No, I think it was because the bed was empty,” she mumbles, reaching for his hand and unhooking herself from under his arm so she can hug it to her chest, his hand sandwiched between both of hers as she tucks them under her chin, “I’m not good at sleeping alone anymore. You ruined me.”

He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles, “I’m…sorry,” he says, his tone teasing and she squeezes his hand tighter.

“As you should be,” she replies dryly, feeling sleepiness take over, the warmth of him and the sound of Violet’s breathing slowly pulling her under, “There’s only one way to make up for it.”

He kisses the top of her head and then hides his smile in her hairline, “Oh yeah, what’s that then?”

“Sleeping next to me forever.”

He chuckles “You drive a hard bargain, but I’m sure I can manage that,” he says, and she leans into him, his voice something that calmed her, something that pulled her in, “You should get some sleep, sweetheart.”

She grumbles, trying to fight him on it even though it was a losing battle, “But you’ll be trapped here with both of us sleeping on you.”

“There are much worse places to be trapped, Em,” he assures her, his words murmured against her forehead, “And Vi will wake us up soon anyway,” he kisses her forehead, “Get some sleep, and I’ll be here for you both.”

She hums, no longer able to fight it, exhaustion and the comfort of him washing over her, “Love you.”

The last thing she hears before she falls asleep is his reply, his I love you too whispered against her skin, and she knows that not only would she never be good at being alone again, but that she’d never have to be.

#hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss #aaron x emily #hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction

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losersside · 6 months ago

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##polin socmed au Paris🇫🇷

The heat emanating from the oven was sticky and prickling his skin despite the cold October air flowing through the open kitchen window. There was silence in the rental apartment. And that felt truly scary to Colin. Usually, he could pretend. When Penelope was loudly talking to his sister rushed laughter filling the rental apartment because she had to get off “Your brother is making dinner, El. Well right now I do prefer your brother. He is making me coq au vin” he could hear her smile and imagine Eloise’s quick witted response “I’m not going to eat your brothers cock. Shut up El! I’m hanging up. Byeee!!” Colin chuckles at his attempts of trying to fill in the gaps in their conversation but he can’t pretend with Eloise's faint presence as a reminder. Eloise was the closest person to Penelope, not him.

But it was easy to forget on days like this. The silence is comforting as he finishes chopping vegetables. He glances at the living room, the wide open door perfectly framing her, draped on the couch, book in hand, completely absorbed by the words as she absentmindedly sips her glass of wine. She is stunning biting her lip as if intrected by the book describing a character doing so. Looking up from her book she smiles at him.

Penelope gets up. Despite the October chill her legs are bare, the oversized t-shirt only covering the top of her legs. Colin let out a sharp breath, eyes fixated on creamy skin moving towards him, on the softness of her pale thighs. Each step she took made the black tshirt ride up her full hips, a peak of white lace against the stretch of delicate skin. She was everything to him. And the familiarity was killing him. He ran hot, often a sheen of sweat covering his body but the heat he felt right now as the new blonde entered the kitchen felt crowding. She felt crowding, How Colin hadn't noticed before the way she had managed to fill every crevice and infíltrate every aspect of his life was beyond him. She stood in the doorway hands full with a bottle of wine and a half full glass. He wished he could look past the familiarity he felt. She looked perfect. There was sensuality in her state of dress, but mostly it was comfort. A sense of familiarity, even domesticity. They couldn't help but belong next to each other relaxed. He had seen her small frame tense, around strangers, her family, and even Eloise. There had been thick tension around them, Colin often said the wrong thing and Penelope had learned to bite her tongue at home, never letting words of hurt spill out of her, but he had never seen her tense around him. She was everywhere and that made him calm. She calmed him. Colin was uneasy. He was filled with an unsettleing wanderlust flying around the globe with nervousness, trying to escape the idleness that filled him when he stayed too long anywhere. But right now as Penelope eyed him he didn't feel it. There was no itchiness in his skin urging him to escape. His feet were planted on the white tiles of the kitchen floor and he couldn't do anything else but wish she moved closer.

“What are you chopping up?” She was close to him, pressing her chest on his back trying to peer over his shoulder.

“Leave. I'm trying to cook for you”

“You are not even going to tell me what you are cooking as you put it “specifically for me”?” Colin felt like he was being baited. Her big genuine smile accentuated her rosy cheeks and the light teasing tone of her voice. The thing is he meant what he said. If Penelope knew words, he knew food. To him, food was a love language. He understood his love for travel through food. He became enamoured with the world as he obsessively watched Anthony Bourdain: A Cook’s Tour. The way he interacted with food and the world fascinated him. Food has history, it belongs somewhere. Every dish and every ingredient had a place of origin. Food was everything. It spoke to the way the world became what it is. He treasure that. Something so innocuous, so trivial as food was so much bigger.

When he was 12 his father died. It was sudden. A heart attack. It left him completely lost. People would bring them food so there was no need for them to cook. His mom was overcomed with grief. He remembers bringing her food. He feared his mom at that time. She wasn't scary like something a tween would find scary, no. He feared her because of what would be of her, they couldn't lose her too. Anthony became overbearing. He was freshly 18, his dad died and his mom wasn't there. Anthony became sort of everything to everyone really. But Anthony couldn't cook. In truth even if he had been able to pick up a cookbook Colin didn't think he would have been able to follow a recipe. Every time you cook for someone you show them you love them or at the very least that you care. Maybe you care for appearances, some people who brought them food were neighbors who didn't really know them. Colin likes to think that perhaps they saw their dad playing with them in the backyard and they cared that a good man died and left a widow and 8 kids behind. Ultimately he doesn't care. When those people cook for them they were able to let grief overcome them. They didn't need to pour love into a meal. They could let it float aroud house confuse as to where to go.

But right now, as Penelope teased him he was pouring all of his love into a meal. He had been. Every day carefully handpicking restaurants or cooking for her, baking, whatever. He didn't care. He was showing her that he loved her. That he had always loved her even if not always romantic. He needed her nourished. Happily moaning around a fresh croissant with homemade raspberry jam that caused very vivid dreams for him. He needed her and he needed to show her that he loved her so he is cooking ratatouille for her because love is pouring out of him.

“Do you want?” At some point, Penelope had set the bottle on the table and was swirling the burgundy liquid in front of him. “You are cooking and not even drinking a cheeky glass of wine. Come on” Penelope stood on her tippy toes raising the glass to his lips tentatively. Colin turned to her. Facing her. Her cheeks were a deeper blush than he had realized and her smile seemed free from inhibitions. She was tipsy and it made him chuckle. Penelope tried raising the glass to his lips again a bit more insistent but not pushy. Penelope was never pushy.

He wrapped his lips around the glass offered to him, eyes focused on hers. He lightly grabbed her wrist tipping the glass further. It felt too intímate. Penelope’s breath getting caught for a second, her chest rising delicately against his abdomen. The liquid slid through his throat. He couldn't break the eye contact. That would’ve been betraying himself. He was looking at her and was completely hypnotized.

She cleared her throat stepping away from him but he didn't loosen the grip on the blonde's wrist.

“Penelope” it sounded more like an exhale. He didn't notice he was out of breath. She was so close and now a few inches apart felt like an ocean between them. There had been oceans between them before. He was always traveling. She was always home. Right now as he desperately craves her closeness, he can not bear that though. The thought of her distance. He needs her warmth pressed against him until they share the same temperature, he needs her skin to melt into him until he feels close enough to her. He needs to kiss her.

“I wrote about you this summer that's why I couldn't write to you” She blurted it out. The words were filled with panicked and so were her eyes scanning his face for a reaction.

“What?” He finally dropped her wrist confusion clouding his thoughts.

“These whole fucking three weeks. You’re so fucking irritating” Her voice was filled with exasperation. “I-“ She didn't finish the thought letting out a deep sigh trying to calm her rapid breath. “I was trying to get over you. I’ve been in love with you for years, pretty much since I met you” She exhaled a laugh filled with self pity. “And this whole fucking trip seemed like you were trying to undo all the little work I had done.” She looked at him. Blues meeting blues. “I know It was a stupid decisition on my part going on the trip. But I missed you too. And ever since we landed in Pris every single fucking time you look at me I fall more and more in love with you, Colin Bridgerton.”

Now he truly couldn't bear the distance. His hands reached for her soft waist pulling her impossibly close to his chest. Raised to her tippy toes Penelope’s mouth was a breath away from his impossibly big grin. He was going to kiss her. His hands burrowed into her hair, soft blonde waves twisting between his fingers. God, he misses the red in her hair. She seems brighter with the blonde a little more self assured. There's something she left behind with the red. He hopes it's not him. Because he desperately needs her. So he kisses her. Framing her jaw with his hands. She smells sweet a combination of the wine and probably the frenzy he is surrounded by in her presence Lush lips tender on his feel like words he is unable to speak, He hopes they communicate how he feels as if consuming her. His stubble rubbing against the pale skin of her face. He desperately needed to know If it would be slightly red and raw.

He pulled her hair slightly separating their faces, not too much though he needed to be close to her, he needed to feel her breath against his skin to make all of this feel real.

“I just need to get something out of my chest” big blue eyes questioning him. Something dreary overtakes them. God he hated her need to doubt him. “I just miss your red hair so goddam much. “ She let out an exhale a small laugh escaping from her chest. Her forehead softly fell on his shoulder. “I can fix that very easily, you know?” She looked up at him, her head still resting on his shoulder. Colin moved up his hands without breaking contact with her skin. He couldn't break the contact, the softness of her skin on his rough palm. He traced the path to her scalp from her waist weaving freckles together with his fingers. He kept going in the direction the shapes traced, the softness of her arms leading him to her scalp. He hooked his finger around an unruly blonde strand that escaped her bun. “I just needed to dye it” Colin looked at her. The open features seemed so telling of who she was yet he knew how much he hid from everyone. It seemed contradictory her eyes seemed so truthful and she was always guarded lying through omission but her eyes, they were true. They saw his truth. Always curious scanning the room seamlessly breaking down what's happening, always getting it right yet not feeling the need to speak it. He adverted her eyes looking at her hands playing with the hem of his shirt. “I dyed it 'cause I wanted to feel far away from everything. Cause I could picture my red hair on your pillow and that was ridiculous at the time. All I was doing was writing and writing about how much I loved you and how you would never love me back.” She tangled her finger in his brown curls. His head tilted looking down at her. “Well don't you feel silly now” She laughed. It felt open and silly and he desperately needed for her to feel as seen by him as he felt seen by her. “So you love me?” His hands traveled down her back settling in her waist. What a fucking ridiculous question. “Penelope Anne Featherington I love you so much this whole trip has been torture being so close to you and not allowed to kiss you when that's all I've been able to think about.”

The End

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#polin #social media #socmed au #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope

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clasiann · 3 months ago

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Hello, I’m one of your followers and I really like your works! And I wanted to share with some ideas for a fanfics about Epic the musical(Odysseus is transgender in every one).

Okay, here’s the first one, she based on @1000cavalry idea “Odysseus of Troy”. So here Athena managed to convince Paris to give apple to her and said that she will give him the world most smartest human, and showed him Odysseus. Paris was captured by the king of Ithaca beauty and give the golden apple to Athena and they both sailed to Ithaca to kidnap Odysseus.

The second one idea is where Odysseus becoming a god and also the advisor of the gods. So here things happened before Trojan war but after Odysseus and Penelope married and had a son. Odysseus had a unique talent to make different silhouettes any he wish from shadows and call it the shadow play. He also was very handsome and his talent and beauty captured eyes of the gods, Zeus decided that such a talent shouldn’t be wasted in mortal realm and then kidnapped Odysseus. After Odysseus arrived on Olympus he became immortal and got the new features(mostly bird ones) such as six wings on his back, two little antenna wings on his head and four ears. Odysseus becoming the god of shadows and making shadow plays for gods entertainment. But even as an immortal god Odysseus still visit his wife and son. You can choose any ship you want but I would like to see Zeus/Odysseus, Poseidon/Odysseus and Apollo/Odysseus.

The next one is with Poseidon/Odysseus. So here it’s based on @tagzpite “Fishysseus au” but with some changes. Odysseus is a beautiful king of Ithaca who captured eyes of Poseidon. Poseidon tried seduce Odysseus but he rejected because Odysseus was loyal to Penelope. Angered by rejection Poseidon turn Odysseus into a hideous sea monster with six wings on his back, four ears, shake like tail instead of legs and giant eye in the centre of his chest. Odysseus find a lair which become his new home, soon enough Odysseus found two little sirens and with it little sirens think that Odysseus is their “mother”. And sometimes even call him like that, but Odysseus don’t mind it at all.

wow wow wow!

Okay firstly, I unfortunately do mind of the idea that Odysseus is trans in these ideas, not because I am transphobic, but because I myself am not trans despite being gender-fluid! (Gender-fluid is sometimes considered to be under the trans umbrella)

But regardless I do not share the same feeling as one might for someone who is trans! I hope you understand what I am trying to say!

However! I find these ideas quite interesting and I will keep some in consideration!

Thank you for your ask and I am honored that you like my works!

#epic the musical #fanfic #ao3 #i made this in 2 minutes #manwhore au

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neonmetro · 1 month ago

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KALYPTOOOOGSGDHEHSJDHRJSJFJYRHDJD

Wow.....kalypto......what a woma- *Gets hit by ongoing traffic*

Hey guys, so I know a lot of these characters make me look insane but I promise I am very normal ( totally ). It's just that......kalypto is just kalypto okay.....

THEY MAKE ME WANT TO DO BACKFLIPS WHAT. they are so awesome......I would say I would like to know so much more about them, but I'm not sure if you gave additional info, LMAO

I would, however, like to give Uly appreciation 💕💕💕💕 I know I don't talk about this guy often, but it's just so awesome, man. I'm gonna give it headpats, trust 🥰🥰🥰

ANYWAYS, now that I got that tiny rant out the way.....HAVE A GOOD DAY *winks and throws a rose at you

- paris anon

HEH... yeah... kalypto does that to people... smiles and winks

I CAN'T REMEMBER IF I DID GIVE ADDITIONAL INFO EITHER. but here's a basic run down

the founding is more like a mafia family than a biological family, but even then the direct children between members of the founding are considered highly. unless you fuck up your proof of value. i'm thinking both circe and kalypto failed these tests because they were just considered not special enough (mind you, still talented on normal people standards, but below average for the founding.) and so were exiled to aeaea and ogygia respectively. they're still apart of the founding so they deserve nothing less than luxury, but just distant members as not to draw too much embarrassment to the main family.

circe was able to brute force her way through learning magic through desperation and becoming a magical girl on her own, but kalypto remained powerless. the only power that they Do Have, is specifically tied to ogygia (at least that's what they think).

they have no idea whether or not their power is limited to just ogygia, they did try leaving the island at one point and traveled around the nearby islands and met circe at one point outside of the founding's gaze and had a good time for awhile. they got to socialize, they got to drink and feast, but they started seeing signs of aging, scars, wearing and tearing at their skin. all their life they didn't have to worry about the implications of being mortal, they were a lesser deity and was a failure in that regard, but at least they weren't mortal. all the worst, people were after their head for their careless nature apparently breaking a few local laws. so! they decided to retire from fishing and go running back home to ogygia.

in ogygia, they're able to stay young forever. all their scars and wrinkles disappear, and they look barely a year older than ulysses despite being much older than him. and all life on ogygia remains as it were, growing what it needs to, cycling through some brief change, but ultimately remaining the same.

they haven't had human contact in quite some time, so frankly it was a miracle for them that someone washed up their shores just for them! just for them only, it's only proof of their status, and they can be happy together in a state of constant.

and honestly? ulysses shared that sentiment, and that's why it worked for awhile. it literally took a deus ex machina for him to regain the willpower to move on and not be entirely halted in his own self growth (ofc he did this for the most self sabotaging reasons but the point is he does have the willpower to move on he just needs to break his bad habits.)

i do think after ulysses left kalypto just is. in a constant state of wallowing. they really miss it. to the point of becoming suicidal. but also it isn't worth stopping the cycle and hurting themselves. it isn't a good time for them :/

they do genuinely wish for the best for ulysses, hell even penelope, but what they believe is that they're the best ulysses can do now. they're as good as they get without being a straight up god, and ulysses shouldn't be chasing after a woman who couldn't even compare to kalypto. (kalypto is. incredibly insecure, even if they don't think they are. they constantly compare how much better they are against penelope and even circe and they don't realize how alone they are)

some notes for them...

i really like their flowers in their hair though... originally they had such a diff design all bc i was afraid to make them blonde?????? (brother ulysses is blonde idk what the problem here was) but also the color palette was giving me difficulty... but making them a orange was a good choice. imo

originally they were supposed to be a doctor-like character, but if anything they're more of a nurse than a doctor... the glasses were to give them more interest bc originally they didn't have the flowers? but now i just think they're charming so they get to keep them...

i do want to redesign their outfit again so ... back in the designing trenches i go

for some reason i really associate them with the sun even though they're a child of atlas not helios….????? but whatever close enough go my titan children.

obv i'm taking my own liberties w/ kalypto, i really do think they're interesting and i wish there was more done with them (i have to specify kalypto did not sa uly in novaturi)

#oc #ask #neon tedtalks #novaturient #neon's sketchbook #calypso #kalypto #the odyssey #odyssey #circe #yahooey!!!!#ulysses #odysseus

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quill-beetlewing · 2 years ago

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Quill reads:

The Eight Arrow

Chapter 1: Out of Depths

Part 2/2

Part 1 in case you missed it

I'm sorry Diomedes is BLOND???

"Diomedes knew when to shut the fuck up. Unfortunately for everyone however, I did not" - literally Odysseus

Damn, this'll be My Goodbye all over again, won't it?

LOOK AT ALL HIS HOPES AND DREAMS BEING UTTERLY CRUSHED BY ATHENA, GODDAMN-

Oh, alright so Athena is literally their mom, okay-

Honestly though, the "my sons" aside, this really feels like a mother telling her 9 year old children to go do something for her like taking out the trash and the kids taking it way too seriously.

"You've come to guide us out" :D

"Ah, you wish"

"But what are we supposed to do? We don't even know the way..."

"Yeah that's the point Diomedes, you absolute fucking moron."

Goddess of Wisdom? More like goddess of spitting absolute bars.

Athena, these two have been sitting in a flame for 3000 years, no need to roast them any further.

(Also watch as Athena is later on revealed to be like the Virgin Mary or something-)

Alright so this kinda confuses me.

Athena says they'll be teleported to the first circle of hell, "where the small-souled chase the wind", which I'm assuming is the actual first circle of hell, because the people there are basically forced to live in a tornado (very banal explanation of it, I know).

But then she mentions the entrance of hell...which isn't in the first circle. The first thing you see among entering Hell through the door is the Anti-Inferno, aka: the place where all the people that did neither bad nor good in life and that were forgotten stay in. Then you move down one circle and you find yourself in Limbo, the place where all good Pagan souls go. And only THEN you end up in the first circle.

Sooooo, which is it?

I mean I guess I COULD read ahead, but I'm trying to savor the experience little by little so we'll see.

I actually genuinely don't know if I want them to visit Limbo or not actually. Because on one hand, that's where all the Trojans (- Paris, he's in actual hell because Dante thought he was a pussy) are, which could be pretty interesting. On the other hand, I'm assuming this is where Penelope is (because you can't tell me she doesn't show up come on now) and I don't know if I want them reunion to happen so soon...

Again, we'll see :P

And yeah that's pretty much it for chapter 1. It was pretty short so I don't think I have a fully formed opinion on the book yet, but so far I'm having fun. As someone who's currently studying Dante's Inferno in class (and that likes it too), I am very curious to see where this goes.

#tagamennon #odysseus #diomedes #the odyssey #the iliad #athena #dante's divine comedy #dantes inferno #dante alighieri #greek mythology #trojan war #quill screeches #the eighth arrow

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streets-in-paradise · 2 years ago

Text

The Man of Aphrodite

Troy (2004) Reader Insert Fanfiction - Part 21

Word Count 10 K

Warnings: A bit of Eric Bana sneaking into my characterization of Hector ( just a bit, nothing to worry about)

Characters: Paris, Hector, Mycenaean Princess!Reader, Achilles (mentioned), Ereny (OC), Odysseus, Penelope, Telemachus, Melantho, Antinous.

Pairings: Achilles x Mycenaean Princess! Reader, discussion of Hector x Andromache.

Summary: The welcome feast begins and the lady sets up her plan, ready to end with all the disruptions causing troubles in what she wished could have been a calm visit to her relatives. However, the result of her schemes lays in the choices of Paris.

Notes: I’m so sorry for taking so long :( This chapter went trough a lot of rewrites untill i reached the final version. I promise the next ones will never take this long.

Tags: @yerevasunclair @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @spideyanakin @spideyanakin-interacts @awakenedevildays @alaysha-of-middleearth @zoegarfield @rfkfan

The feast was a merry occasion, foreigners and locals were sharing great food and entertaining stories as a pleasant startpoint for their transactions. Hector was the center of the achaean curiosity and he was asked many questions about the glorious tales being shared by his proud countrymen. Ithacans weren't far behind when it was about talking of the brilliant resourcefulness of their king, and so the fame of both heroes was being celebrated.

Silent, but not inactive, the mycenaean princess had sporadic interventions on the conversations that were clever strikes manipulating her men into talking for her. She couldn't be the one directly contributing to make the glory of Achilles grow, talking about him with pride in public was too suspicious. Instead, she made others get invested in the telling of recent mycenaean war feats. He took part in all of them, so he would have to be mentioned as the most popular heroe on her land by the men themselves.

It was presented as a matter of local pride, not the rambling of an enamored girl. She knew how to make her points be heard without letting those could be attributed to her. The men would argue and she would support, subtly putting in their mouths what she wanted to say.

No one would notice, except for Paris, who had his full attention on her

Less scandalous than before, the prince was one with her tactic of semi passive observation. Drinking, eating or pretending to care about the conversations were background activities masquerading his interest. If he wanted her before the party, seeing her arrival intensified the craving. Hector tried to explain to him in quick whispers that her looks were a political message. A stance for peace between nations that was most likely personal, the nice gesture of a lady who didn't want to be seen as the enemy. Warnings fell once more in deaf ears, the blue of the trojans fitted her perfectly.

Paris acted as if all the horrors of the mycenaean crown were well paid with that beautiful image that he couldn't stop looking at. Sharing glances with her wasn't hard because she was sitting ríght in front of him, close to the local royals.

Her coldness was his personal challenge and the goal was making her smile back to at least one of his imperceptible but provocative public flirting grins. He was ready to work for it the entire time, there was nothing else more interesting to do when the table was full of men praising each other's slaughtering in battle.

The topic started to suffer changes only when she broke silence to question Hector on a simple detail. Her people were finishing telling one of their stories and there was a misunderstanding of oral traditions with the trojans. Paris thought she must have been as bored as him and started the controversy just to have something to do.

" Retellings can reach your shores full of misconceptions." The young princess warned " There are people ríght here in Greece that would tell you my aunt was born from a swann egg."

Penelope chuckled at the reminder of that rumor.

" ... Others would tell you my mom was the rotten egg of the family. If I had to count all what people say of us as truth ..."

Hector wasn't truly seeking to correct her, he just had the bad luck of doing a casual reference on the worst time.

" King Peleus of Phthia received my father in his palace many years ago. It can be said they were friends and that is not a misconception.”

She was doing an outstanding job pretending to be annoyed because a foreigner was explaining her own country to her. Hiding beneath that acting there was a consternated, confused girl trying to make her world make sense again.

If Peleus was once a king, that would make his son a prince by birth and that simply couldn't be. Achilles wouldn't have hidden something like that to her. Maybe he was unaware of his royal blood, that was the most logical explanation that occurred to her.

Unless he would have hushed the detail on purpose so she wouldn't get hopeful. Then the sayings of Odysseus would have at least a portion of truth beneath.

Strangers exaggerating, that had to be the answer, and she had a vague idea of why.

" Achilles is a traveling mercenary, I know this because my father points it out every single time when complaining about him. If that warrior wouldn't be a common man, then atta wouldn't be so spiteful seeing accomplishing wonders in battle. Agamemnon wishes Achilles was a prince! He would be way easier to predict and we wouldn't live in fear for his next move. "

It was a perfectly logical explanation, but not enough for her. Before conclusión she needed to perform a verbal assassination to avenge herself for the nearly awakened doubts.

" I understand other kingdoms can find demeaning for their greatest figures to be compared with a simple soldier. Kings here have been ashamed to see their champions fall by the blade of that vulgar man."

" I have known men in the countryfield who I value twice my worth. '' Was Hector's comeback, faithful to his honorable reputation. " My father has no reason to lie, but yours wins from making everyone tremble upon his army because of that man. The things I'm hearing are certainly impossible, my lady. Epical descriptions to create magnificent tales. I have fought countless battles and I can easily separate truth from poetry. "

The girl looked at Odysseus, who shared her same dissimulated amusement.

" My father can't lie when he is angry, his mind gets numbed too fast. I would take one rageful rant of his as truth over your word anytime." She concluded, then proceeded to tease him just a bit more. " And by the way: we are not lying to you. My men are witnesses, not poets."

" Both of you are ríght. '' Odysseus clarified, intending to put an end to the relatively calm altercate. " Achilles is terrifyingly good at what he does. Some things I have seen him do are impossible, but he makes the impossible look effortless. "

The princess seemed satisfied until he redirected his speech to her.

" The house of Aeacus is a dying bloodline and my friend is the last one in the line of succession. Theoretically, he is a prince, but he doesn't care at all. In order for that title to hold any value again he would need to marry and have a son, but the myrmidons have lost any hope that could happen and i don't blame them because i know him well."

It felt like a slap in the face, Odysseus knew that all along and he wouldn't even bother on telling her if the trojan prince wouldn't have pointed it out. His warnings were made in the context of that hidden information. Interpreting everything he said to her in the light of the new facts made it all sound logical.

She was angry and disappointed, unsure of who she should trust.

" We are a dying bloodline, I'm the last one in my royal house. " She snarked back, trying to hide her bitterness. " Had I ever told you that the priestesses of Artemis have shown interest in me? Father has bragged about that for years. "

' Was she attempting to threaten anyone with that ? ', the king wondered, unable to hide some laughter. Locking herself in a temple so nobody would have her if Achilles wouldn't wasn't a possibility for her.

" Temple life doesn't suit you, quietness and Isolation have never been pleasant to you."

" Sparta is one of the biggest centers of worship. I would be close to Helen." She teased back, stubbornness making her sound almost as if she was convinced. " I am a little behind in praying, but the rest I can learn. "

Penelope didn't want to allow the madness to escalate. Her husband was having a bit of a petty fight with their youngest relative and she was their middle ground.

" Worry not, my dear." She attempted to comfort the girl. " Why the sudden pessimism?"

She was about to explode

" ... Maybe because most of my suitors are noble breed RATS that can't wait to feast on my father's accomplishments."

At that point nothing would have made her shut up, but even in her rage she spoke with prudence.

" That's the thing, Hector. When greedy arses want to take what belongs to you, they come to your country to fight. When they want to steal from my house all they have to do is pretend they are interested in me. The more intense it sounds, the faker it is."

Paris couldn't tell if that was an angry callout for him or if she was subtly explaining why she consistently refused his advances.

" Have you ever spotted anyone you find sincere, princess?"

Her response was ambiguous, probably inspired by her momentary confusion.

" Only once, but i have doubts about that one... "

She was not talking about him, but he had no way to know and preferred to believe she was.

"... Helen and my best friends are helping me to come up with a method that may help me out with that..."

It was unfair, she knew it, but if she was going to remain upset she could at least do what she was meant to.

Her plan to expose Paris and get him away from her once and for all couldn't be postponed.

"... It's a test in the form of an hypothetical problem of multiple solutions..."

" Test me whenever you wish." He confidently suggested. " i'm ready for your trial and i want to succeed on it"

Ereny, until then silently standing behind her friend, did her part doing the needed ethical warnings.

" Good lord, there is no possible success in the Judgement. I see it more as a mental labyrinth where every choice leads to a different sort of imaginary doom."

" Let me judge that." Odysseus recalled, feeling stimulated by the difficulty Implied in the description. " There has to be one correct answer and I will find it. I have been playing riddles with your princess for years."

The lady dismissed the claims without objections.

" Are you in, Hector?"

He was starting to get sick of her challenging attitude towards him, but he could tell it was somewhat of a game for her.

" That's not a question I need to answer. I believe in actions over games showing who we truly are." The eldest prince simply declined. " i'm a transparent man. Who you see is who i am."

" ... and you have nothing to prove, i get it. That's fine for me, i'm going to play with Paris."

The room was paying attention to what was about to happen, never before she captured so many stares explicitly based on what she had to say.

Before starting she drank a sip of wine and begged for divine inspiration. Her storytelling skills were not famous, but it was something she felt a bit proud of herself.

" I want you to imagine with me that you find yourself in an open, isolated spot from your kingdom. Nature surrounds you... " She started narrating, trying to create an immersive ambience. " ... Forget of your palace, your agora, markets and streets. You are alone, maybe going for a walk in the beach or in the woods near mount Ida."

Her voice was sweet and inviting, it wasn't hard for the prince to get enraptured in the tale. He closed his eyes instinctively for a moment.

" Are you there with me?"

" No, you are on your own... but that doesn't mean you are completely lonely. You quickly come across a woman, a complete stranger. The sight of her overwhelms you and she understands it. Your eyes weren't meant to see her, but she needs your help."

She stopped for an instante to create some intrigue, mentally vowing to who she was about to evoke.

" She is Hera, Paris, and she has a sacred mission for you."

Paris opened his eyes like a marveled kid.

" Why me? People don't come to me with their problems "

" But inmortals do, alright? Just for the sake of this, imagine they do." She insisted, dulcifying her tone a bit more. " You have been selected as judge in an altercate of olympians, something Zeus couldn't solve because his answer would have been obviously biased. It is up to you to determinate who is the most beautiful goddess from up there"

“ That is not that hard” The prince optimistically commented. “ The obvious answer is Aphrodite because she is the goddess of beauty.”

“ Has nobody ever told you that if something sounds easy, it is probably a scam?” Odysseus added, trying to guide the naive lad solely from the knowledge he had of her. “ Slow down, we don’t even know the rules yet.”

“ Am I allowed to give a piece of advice?” Ereny asked her lady, obtaining an immediate approval. “ Rules are implicit, those emanate from the power imbalance.”

" You are a mortal chosen to judge goddesses: expect gifts, not explanations. " The princess agreed, going further with the narration. " They all possess extraordinary means they would present to you in hopes of quickly winning your verdict."

" With that attitude you wouldn't last a day in a temple." Odysseus mocked her. " I doubt priests would support that allegory of corruption."

" Who says we can't consecrate games to the gods?" Was her quick comeback. " My friends and I were very inspired in the process of inventing this. It may be divine, they could have put the ideas in our minds themselves."

" ... Face it, it is not for you."

He wasn't talking about priesthood and she knew it. Their underlying argument was about her dangerous romantical life.

An exhortation to give up and find someone else, give the men he brought there for her a chance.

" This is a decision making method ironically based on choices, I bet they appreciate the circularity. "

" A judgment tool built of judgements, it's insane. " Hector commented. " Well thought, still insane."

" I love to receive gifts. Who doesn't love gifts?" Paris innocently recalled. " So far this sounds very fun."

" As Queen of the Gods, Hera gets to make you her offer first. " She immediately continued. " ' Choose me, son of Priam, and I will make you the mightiest king that has ever existed.' says the goddess. ' With my blessing you will conquer the world."

Hector bit his lip to hush a reaction produced by the instinctive guessing of where she got the idea for that first fictional divine gift. It was bait to spot men with the same ambitions of Agamemnon, possibly to avoid them if she had the chance.

She was perhaps scared of ending up married to a man who could be like her father, attempting to protect herself through that game.

One furtive glance was enough to let her know he understood where that came from, but wasn't going to judge her for it.

" Contestants approach you one by one. " The mycenaean kept narrating to Paris. " Ríght after Hera presents her case, Athena shows up..."

" ... ' I will make you an invincible hero!' She promises ' With my wisdom and strength you will win all your battles.' "

Odysseus was the one containing himself then, wondering if the idea of a perfect hero inspiring that part was born from a mix of his own fame and Achilles'.

" In last place, Aphrodite appears to you, but she does so in very different manners. Softer, sweeter, intimate approach "

It was the part meant to be played by Helen, the final of her own invention for obvious reasons. For so, the princess tried to make her justice by impersonating her impersonation of Aphrodite.

Hoping to look as lovely as possible, she stared intensely at him before speaking.

" ' Paris'." She called softly, something in between a regular voice tone and whispers. Loud enough to be heard in a room full of people, low enough to feel intimate. " ' If you choose me, i will find you a wife as beautiful as i am.Under my bliss you will win her love' "

The prince didn't get to talk before Odysseus started complaining.

"That's a probability of one against two! It's completely unfair!"

" Life is unfair, my friend. Helen had a probability of approximately one against over fifty when she got married." The girl lightheartedly replicated. " ... The choice here is simplified to three."

" Hurting the pride of rejected kings can't be compared with angering two rejected goddesses."

The girl listened him with a mischievous smirk

" ... I thought you said solving it was going to be easy for you..."

" My dearest divinity is a participant, I would be morally forced to pick Athena."

" Congratulations, Odysseus! You just lost the love of Penelope and your kingdom!" She sarcastically exclaimed. " In a combinated strike of Aphrodite and Hera, your wife abandons you and the man she welcomes takes your place as king. Since the gift of Athena protects you in combat, you are most likely to die poisoned in this very same hall."

The macabre but flawless argumentation only stimulated him to take the insane speculation further.

" You forgot Athena made me too wise to take the poison."

" ... Then you are forced to exile and Hera doesn't grant you a new kingdom."

" But he has a son!" Telemachus spoke for the first time, making the girl realize he was being unusually quiet prior to that. " I can reclaim the throne for him."

" No, you can't. You better go hide because the new king wants you dead."

Penelope was carefully following the chaos, waiting to see when it would get worse until she felt it was getting too far.

" Impossible, no change of feelings for a man would make me forget my boy."

" That is the point! You are not being yourself, cousin. Aphrodite drove you crazy. It's not you, the will of the goddess acts through you. She controls you like a doll."

" I believe Aphrodite would be the wisest choice." Paris interrupted, taking his stand " I know what you are thinking, hers is the less ambitious gift... but I have some very good reasons."

" Please, enlighten us." The princess encouraged him sarcastically, hoping to hear the crucial mistake after seeing him make the obvious choice she was waiting for. " I would love to know what your definition of a wise choice is."

" Ignore the bribe, it's justice. If Apollo would be a performer in a music contest, you would expect him to win. Giving the prize to the deity whose domain is being questioned seems reasonable to me."

" Indeed, but don't hope apparent justice would placate the other two." She darkly clarified. " Sounding like a neutral judge will not save you, I want your personal reasons. What do you think you win with this?"

" Unlike political power and militar wisdown, my sentimental life belongs to me only because I am not an eldest son. Nobody shall care for the woman I bring home if I get married, I will never be a king. Finally, I am not ashamed of admitting that finding love is a great goal I seek. I wouldn't stand being a powerful king without my queen, or the greatest army leader without love to fight for. What's the point of having all of that if you are going to be lonely? Even if I get disowned and my shots with the bow never hit the target ever again, I have a woman who loves me. I can start over."

The heartfelt speech got many of the women present in different stages of commotion, some more dissimulated than others. With his honest answer, leaving the mask of a role to play behind, Paris captivated a good part of the audience.

The mycenaean challenger was speechless witnessing how the prince ruined her scheme completely, and even sounded lovely while doing so.

" ... Wonderfull, you are a man of Aphrodite in its purest form."

Paris smiled, thanking what to him was an in point compliment.

" Did I pass your impossible test?"

" I guess you did... " She doubtfully concluded. " You understood it is not about finding a completely beneficial outcome and stayed true to yourself. The lascivious, selfish hedonist you appear to be; the man who has been my headache since your arrival, hides a lovely man full of love to give. The reasons behind your selection show a certain wishfulness for seeking love for the sake of love itself"

" ... This is a frightening experience, I feel as if I would have been truly tested by celestial goddesses peeking inside my heart and communicating through you.”

For some reason he didn't understand, she seemed to enjoy that observation.

" Thank you so much! I like to cause terror in the hearts of men, but that's very hard to achieve when you are a girl."

" This entire exchange is grim and terrifying." Hector followed, seeing that he didn't have to hide his thoughts anymore. " I don't even want to ask what would happen next in the riddle if he picks Hera."

She carelessly smiled before replying.

" Wise choice, you better not ask about it because you are an heir prince and I don't want to give you nightmares."

" I would never want Hera to kill you or exile you so I can be king" Paris told his brother regarding his own choice. " ... What kind of man would do that to his own brother?"

For the mycenaeans, that innocent comment was like a misfortunate invocation of ghosts from their past. It belonged to their local history, an obscure saga of it that the prosperous kingship of Agamemnon was supposed to keep buried and everyone tried to forget. The trojan prince had no way of knowing that with precision, but in his sayings the historical and cultural differences between nations became more evident than ever before. Neither their dressing style preferences or referenced local traditions were as exotic to the continental greeks as that simple observation.

The trojans belonged to a different world, one where darkness and suffering seemed to come primarily from the outside. Hector was the one in the royal family forced to keep himself more in touch with that darkness and that had its effect on him, but also made him be more prepared with an encounter with the greek world. His brother was a mystery, even the young girl contextually leading the mycenaeans was surprised after finding him so unpredictable.

Although it was a bit more than that what kept her thinking.

Paris was allowed the privilege of naivety, not even in the sweetest stages of childhood she remembered to have possessed such unawareness of the ways of the world. He was probably sheltered by a father who didn't force him to grow up faster out of negligence or abusive behavior. He loved his brother and never felt the need to compete with him, he was never forced to fight because his kingdom had enough fighters. He was raised on an ideal of peaceful prosperity. What King Priam must have been wishing all his life for Troy found embodiment in the ways of his youngest boy. Hector, the eldest, had to take the role guarding what Troy is in its concrete existence.

One pragmatic, one and idealist, they were meant to complement each other in a cohesive work of two brothers ruling together despite only one could wear the crown. That was what his father wanted for them, the present and future of Troy preserved by his two sons.

They could never possibly understand tragedies like the carnage of Atreus and Thyestes.

" Paris, I don't want you to misunderstand this but I have to say I think you must be a treasure for your people. "

The prince wasn't the only one confused, disconcert ruled the room and some stiffed chuckles in the trojan side were still be heard.

" You are the most Trojan thing Troy has ever produced, a miracle of your local politics. Do you have any idea of how many succession wars us greeks used to have before atta started conquering everyone with the hope of creating some damn unity? If we would have more princes like you, we wouldn't have lost decades fighting each other."

It was the weirdest praise he ever received, but he accepted it gladly.

" Nobody in Troy would ever believe you told this to me. " He frankly commented, a chill self deprecating joke that had its own dose of truth. " The princess of Mycenae thinks I'm a national symbol... Would you ever come to visit so you can tell that to my father in the face?"

" ... Only if you come to my palace and tell my father some of the praise words about me you have been repeating. " She snarked back. " He wouldn't believe you either, I can imagine him laughing in your face. "

" I insist on that. You are as smart as you are beautiful and you are the scariest woman I have ever met. That should be a matter of pride for your homeland as well."

"... Yet I wouldn't consider myself a national symbol, I have no true significance for the political development of my city. Who you are as a person says a lot about Troy and the ideals in which your father's ruling is based."

He was radiant with happiness, maybe ready to get a little cocky. It was a very easy turn for a shamelessly confident man like him.

" See, Hector? I always knew it was a gift to our people, a joy to be around."

The eldest prince chuckled before replying.

" You are a gift to women, Paris. Of that I have no doubt."

He made her laugh, even her servant saw herself forced to stiff her own chuckles. However, it didn't happen out of the textual meaning of the joke.

Silly sibling bickering, Hector was for once being a bit more relaxed in public and that was fun to see.

The princess felt for once the need of making the youngest know she wouldn't be making fun of him anymore.

" Don't worry, Paris. I'm speaking less as a woman and more as a politician would. "

They shared a silent exchange of smiles until the uncontrollable laughing in the sitting crowd at the feast ruined the moment.

She followed it's direction with her glance and found a young boy laughing at her carelessly and arrogantly.

" Excuse me???"

" Apologies accepted. " He replied in the same cocky spirit. " That was really funny, but really dumb... What can you know about ruling? Hey, can you both take the flirting elsewhere? You are ruining the feast... BORING!!!"

Telemachus looked hatefully at him, almost as if he was craving to jump in defense of the honor of his guest relative but something else was stopping him. Ereny noticed it, but couldn't comment directly to her friend.

The princess felt humiliated, mistreated like not even the most insolent of mycenaean men would ever dare to in their interactions with her.

Compared to that kid, even Adrastus seemed nice. The worst part of his intromission was how a nice moment of sincere friendly approach she had with Paris was from then potentially to be confused with a flirtatious exchange initiated by her.

" Odysseus, who is this insolent brat?"

" Antinous..." The boy answered on his own. "... son of Eupeithes. "

The king reprobed the behavior, but he couldn't help to feel amused witnessing how the young woman was about to enter in an altercation with a child barely older than his son for a matter of a few years.

The man who could be assumed to be the father was the noble that couldn't get his audience with the king because of the trojan arrival, the princess' temporary main suspect.

It would have been wiser to start a conversation with him from the clear offense his son delivered on her.

" Tell me, Antinous... Do you know who I am?"

" The divine daughter of the great Atreide"

He was teasing her, like it didn't matter at all because her father wasn't present. As if she wasn't worthy of respect when the head of her house wasn't watching.

Reducing all her worth to Agamemnon was the worst crime anyone could commit when dealing with her. She despised it, it was a weakness triggering the most irrational rage.

" Indeed. " She did her best to simulate calm. " I have to say you need some guts to insult me like that when my father is known as a man who dedicates his life to invading kingdoms, sometimes even without good reasons. I'm going to concede you that."

Thinking she was done, he seemed secure of getting away with it.

" Do you have any sisters?"

" Not yet, my lady. "

" I hope you never will." She replicated, in a dry but still mockfull tone. " No girl deserves the punishment of putting up with you before marriage would force her to.”

Telemachus had to contain himself and not laugh to avoid choking with his food.

She noticed that and it encouraged her.

"Next time we will get the pleasure of receiving Odysseus in Mycenae, I want you to come here and watch how Penelope handles this whole kingdom on her own while he is away. See for yourself how much a woman can know about ruling. In the meantime, if both rulers agree, I would love to also get visited by your prince so I can show him myself how bigger kingdoms are ruled. My father and I would love to do it. After all, Telemachus will be a king someday. "

The ithacan prince wished he could have stood up to clap, the brightness in his eyes was a silent equivalent of that. Antinous had no more arrogant comebacks to give, hurted in his pride on a perfect equivalent for his previous offense.

Since he didn't remember much about Helen, the son of Odysseus and Penelope decided right there that the daughter of his mother's eldest cousin had to be his favorite cousin.

They had to wait until people dispersed for dancing to share any comments about what happened. As soon as the music started the kid clinged to her and her servant friend, giving Paris a deathly serious stare indicating him to approach only at his own risk.

After the brief misunderstanding they had before, the trojan abstained from trying because the possibility of being attacked by a child in public was humiliating.

" It seems like I have found a personal protector for myself." The lady lovefully teased the little boy. " I have an entire group of companions keeping an eye on him, you don't have to. "

" What you did was awesome. " He directly replied, regretting later "... I mean, your riddle was very fun for the banquet. Everyone was losing their minds, atta hasn't stopped thinking about it. I think I heard mom telling him to stop as they were getting up to dance."

She chuckled with him before her answer

" I'm glad I didn't bore you as much as I bored Antinous. Although it seems to me that assholes like him don't stop at girls, they bother anyone they find available."

He looked at her way too seriously for a kid of his age.

" Don't tell my father, never. Eupeithes may be annoying, but they are friends."

Ereny wanted to also do her part on comforting him.

" That jerk thinks he has the upper hand now, but he will have to submit to you someday."

" Or you can always befriend many slaves and prepare pranks in complete invisibility, making him feel like he is going insane because those can't be traced back to a particular infractor." The princess completed, referencing her own friendship with the girl. " If you don't like someone, make your slave friends befriend their slaves or befriend them yourself."

" Did it work for you?"

" My childhood rival is married to a Corinthian noble who deals with the trade routes, far away from me. "

"Unless you are Achilles, never try kicking ass as first option." Ereny followed with her own recommendations. " If you are, then sure. Go ahead, kill anyone who looks at you in a way you didn't like. If not, it never ends well."

The princess would have appreciated not to hear him being mentioned, but still defended him.

" Eny, he is not like that!"

" He is, he has anger issues. " She reminded her. " He is like... your father, but with slightly better morals. Why do you think they fight all the time? They are more similar than what they are willing to admit."

After a lifetime making fun of Agamemnon's lack of self awareness that was a strong hit for her.

What if, after all the struggling to do different, she had ended up falling in love with a man that was like her father?

" You speak as if he would have killed the first jerky kid he came across with when he was a boy."

Telemachus made his small contribution.

" He killed the jerk or he used to be the jerk. I would expect either."

Ereny had a subtle surprise for her friend: some in spot encouragement to fade the doubts she was feeling.

"There must be a lot he hides to protect the people he loves. We have done it plenty of times too, like ríght now keeping Telemachus's secret."

If he did hide the royalty in his origin from her, it must have been for a good reason. She had one when she chose not sharing Hesione's story with. She omitted it to protect him from a violent, intempestive reaction against the remaining men of her family.

They were in love, just protecting each other from the past. She clinged to that thought, remembering he loved her and trusting on that.

"... Do you love me?" Telemachus asked, confused. " both?"

Only then they got back at the literal meaning of the conversation.

" Of course, we are family. " The princess quickly added. " and i consider Eny part of my family, so you can do it too. "

He smiled, a beautiful grin full of a happy confidence like feeling.

The young slave girl felt wonderful

" Guess what? You are my new favorite prince on the entire greek land. "

A familiar voice interrupted when Melantho reached them searching for the girls.

" I guess you haven't met many."

" What are you doing here?" Telemachus complained in return. " Party is over for you, go bother someone else. "

" See? That's what I wanted to warn you about. " She said to the girls, as if they were friends already. " Everytime Antinous is near he gets fussy."

"... Maybe if you wouldn't act like a princess all the time just because you are my mother's favorite slave "

"... Maybe if you wouldn't want to simulate a strength you don't have to compensate your father for your flaws."

It was the peak of bickering between the children.

" WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT?"

Melantho surprised the adult audience with her reply

" NO ONE, I GAVE IT TO MYSELF!!"

The young women began to understand why Penelope manifested such predilection for that little girl. She was not only quite clever, but a free thinker.

" I bet you are here just to keep looking at Paris. "

" You could learn from Paris, at least he doesn't care about what Antinous says about him. "

They would never stop fighting unless someone would find a way to stop it and the princess was coming up with an idea to fix more than one problem.

Antinous was of easier access than Eupeithes. If properly scared into talking he could reveal things his father never would. Forcing an interaction with that man had shown to be harder than expected, but his son was a little prick who wouldn't shut up.

" Kids, calm down! We have a common enemy to defeat."

The girl seemed careless about that call to cohesion.

" Why? Antinous is not bothering me. I would wreck him if he tries, but he hasn't. "

The lady was going to need a bit more if she wanted them to agree on working together.

" Melantho, if you follow me on this I promise I will spend time with Paris just so you can come with me and talk with him for hours."

The girl's combative semblance was transformed due to the imminent excitement.

The princess still needed to convince the boy.

" Telemachus, trust me on this and I promise Antinous will be scared at the end."

Not only she calmed the situation, but also got them on board to take roles in her attempt to investigate the economical conflict.

There was someone else she wanted to recruit for the next step, someone on the trojan side. She spotted the princes in the crowd trying to determine who was the best fitting choice. Hector would have been the obvious, but he seemed tired. He was drinking and chatting with a few local aristocrats, not really engaging in what was happening. Pretty much as if he wanted that mandatory moment of the receivement to be over so they could pass to the important things and finish.

And the poor guy didn't even know everything was an excuse, a deliberate fraud Odysseus pulled specially for him hoping to play matchmaker and get him a mycenaean wife.

It couldn't be him, Hector already had enough bullshit to face, so she glanced at Paris. He was all about the dancing, shining like no other and cheering the place.

His cowardice for fighting was compensated for in the most unexpected of fields, since he was one of the bravest dancers she had ever seen. Paris moved in ways no other man there would, with a natural grace and seductive charm that were his style. Attracting stares everywhere was his glory and the vibrant cheer he transmitted was excellent for the moment.

" What a lifeful little man, isn't he?" The lady accidentally said to her friend. " I think I like Paris, not in the way he likes me, but still ..."

" I'm counting points in his score today." Ereny mocked her. " For now, Hector is in the last position. Let's see if his numbers improve over time. "

Paris won a chance to be trusted by his own merit and the princess was going to offer it to him. Her servant girl stayed out only of the recruitment phase, since her lady needed to get to him alone. The road cleaned itself with each step she was giving towards him. People moved without needing to be asked, making her notice of how remarkably aware of her power the insular kingdom was. Although she didn't feel intimidated, it did make her remember a very important detail.

Smaller the kingdom, faster the gossiping. Being invisible was easier in Mycenae. For ithacans, the coincidence of royal visits must have been one of the most exciting things that happened in some long time.

As soon as the prince noticed her approaching on her own he made a signal to one of the wine pourers to reach them for drinks. She had him so distracted that he almost forgot of the libations.

" Forgive me, I was caught up by your beauty. That dress seems to suit you better than the last time I checked. " He praised her ríght away. "But, of course, I didn't have a look from so close before. "

" It's a miracle that it still fits. " She joked in return. " Odysseus was getting married when I finished it. "

He smiled, but not exactly as a result of the joke.

" It turns out to be true that you like seashells. " The prince pointed out, about her simple but well crafted belt. " From a mycenaean princess, the least I would have expected is a silver belt with delicate incrustations of jewels. "

" I like to show that I can enjoy simple things. I'm not a bragger when it comes to wealth. "

She deviated her glance towards the few trojan performers Paris had put in service to the feast alternating their songs with the greek ones from the local ithacan musicians.

" I don't mean to brag, I made them work this time just for you. " He defended himself from the accusation. " Knowing of your deep curiosity for us, how would I resist spoiling you with some trojan music?"

The speed of that perfect comeback impressed her

" It's beautiful, a very sweet gesture."

" You knew ríght away that I was going to turn out to be a man of Aphrodite... Why did you play with me anyways?"

" It's true that I guessed the goddess, but you surprised me with the motives. I really don't mind the choice as much as I care for the why. The Judgement is a character test showing where the true priorities of a man lay between the three main goals they tend to seek."

Paris took her hand without breaking eye contact.

" Would you dance with me?"

The request was purred with the softest charm.

" I would love to," answered the princess. " but i have work to do first."

" Of what sort? Can I help you?"

" I wish so, but that depends. Do you like children?"

Paris wasn't sure of the direction that the proposition had, so he said the silliest thing that crossed his mind.��

" Why? Do you want me to make you some?"

All progress made was at the edge of downfall, she got the sudden wish to smack him.

" WHAT'S wrong with you?! Of course I didn't mean that!"

She grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, forcing closeness only to seem more menacing.

" Listen to me carefully. Do you want to know why Hector was formally invited and you came here only as his companion? This is a fraud, Odysseus wanted us to meet because he wants me to become your brother's wife. It's up to us letting him out of excuses to keep you all here "

Paris was greatly surprised with the news, but not precisely dismayed.

" Done, he can't try to be a matchmaker for you and Hector if I'm here... Look at us ríght now, we are so close that I may just kiss you and people are surely watching us."

She dropped him immediately and he felt slightly frustrated about that.

Unfortunately for them, Hector was one of the near witnesses. Lacking context for what he saw made him fear the worst and his worries escalated once the pair disappeared from his visual range. He was no longer in the mood for parties, not even able to pretend he wasn't in a state of alarm. His disconnection with the surroundings was, however, easier to conceal in the festive environment full of distractions.

At least he hoped so, until someone else attempted to cheer him up.

" Don't worry for them, Paris is not her type. She prefers them braver. " Said the King of Ithaca, coming from behind with his usual snarkiness. " In fact, I am not completely sure if he is safe with her."

The prince smiled to himself.

" The resemblance with your wife it's outstanding... I only hope it includes her prudence, for the wellbeing of us all."

" She would never harm you, that girl is obsessed with Troy.” Odysseus followed, ready to quickly elaborate in the matter. " ... In a positive way, it could be said that she inherited the reverse side of the paternal obsession. To her Troy is the magical kingdom of her childhood dreams. She would never do anything to endanger you and she is also very aware of her worth. "

Only Odysseus could have been able to disguise his intentions so effectively. The talk advanced in the same direction, but it truly felt as if he was merely giving words of comfort to calm his guest down. Hector wasn't fully convinced, since the King didn't know Paris as well as him. The princess of Mycenae wasn't the first honorable girl in his way and that has never been an impediment for him before.

He couldn't just talk ríght there about some of the most despicable actions in the licentious history of Paris' nocturnal adventures. That girl wasn't even the most scandalous of his seduction targets, only one of the most dangerous. Hector had spotted him before going after servant girls, married women and even priestesses.No matter the context, his brother would always spot the cutest girl in the room and end up running after her. If he would have known of the danger they would be facing, he would have left him in Troy.

Seeing them return in rushes and giggling to mix themselves with the dancing people wasn't tranquilizing either. Not at least until they abandoned the activity to get back with him.

" Hectoor!!!" The princess cheered his name, her voice sounded musical-like. Something in between speaking and singing that was very sweet to hear. " I have great news for you."

Paris smiled innocently at him.

" Guess what? We are working together on a scheme to investigate the contrabandists. If ithacans know something about that, we will figure out soon."

Hector was in disbelief, a positive one for once.

" Working together, you said?"

" Yes, what did you expect? Us passionately making out somewhere in the palace? " She mocked him. " I only do responsible mischief, like figure out ways out of potential political crises. "

" Better say trying to rule two kingdoms behind everyone's backs. " He corrected her. " I appreciate it, but you can't personally arrange the fate of everyone. "

The princess responded as if she felt specifically attacked.

" Are you going to tell me that you have never attempted things behind your father's back when times are difficult? "

The expression in his reaction was a strong negative.

" What is wrong with you? You always must interfere whenever he is about to do something stupid! "

" Even on the occasions when his choices make me angry, I respect those because that is what I have to do. "

She couldn't believe her ears.

" ... If i was a man with half of your power and credibility..." She lamented, ironically. " I'm committed to protecting the last drops of common sense in my father and when those can't be saved I often see myself forced to act in the shadows. I'm used to doing it and I want to teach Paris how it's done because I think there is a lot of wasted potential in him. "

" Just like you told me, I'm using this trip to learn. " The youngest prince concluded. " Only learning from a brilliant greek lady."

" Be careful with that," Hector warned." her vanity is on her mind. "

" As yours must lay in your arms. " The lady snarked back. " Strongests in Troy, legends say. "

She began to tap his ríght arm with the tip of her index finger in an annoying way.

" What are you doing?"

" Research... " She simply explained, then proceeded to grab him with full hand. " I would say it's at least twice smaller than Ajax, almost the same size as Achilles… Almost, his are still bigger."

Hector looked at Paris, who seemed about to burst into laughter.

" I feel like a prisoner about to get sold in the market."

She reacted in the same amusing tone.

" Ajax likes to hug, Achilles made me bathe him once as a reward to satisfy his ego. Carelessly touching heroes is the only thing I do that sometimes impresses the people."

A friendly pat on his shoulder pointed to the end of her examination.

" I may not have the strongest arms, but i'm pretty proud of my chest." Paris commented, acting casual. " Do you want to lay your hands on me and feel for yourself?"

The maiden made of stone most thought she was made a stellar appearance.

" I had enough when I was threatening you."

The letdown would still make him look cute.

" This isn't working, isn't it?"

" No man ever has attempted to seduce me so openly and persistently, I give you credit for that."

He began to feel defeated, but she didn't want to make him feel bad about that.

" However, I would prefer if we stay as conspiracy partners. It's not only beneficial, but more entertaining."

She made a brief pause before getting into the most delicate topic

" I will never be a fun lover, but i do well with political intrigue. Would you switch an useful alliance for an awkward first night with me? Because that's what you would be getting. "

Hector couldn't believe what he was hearing, a princess speaking in such frank terms was awkward on itself.

" Don't judge me, he has to know about what he is exposing himself to. I'm clueless in bed, he is clueless in politics. Which one of both is actually more useful ríght now? "

" I would never judge you. " Paris interrupted. " Don't judge yourself so harshly."

" Save yourself the letdown, i'm said to be the coldest bitch in Greece and that reputation has saved me troubles"

" ... I bet you would find it unfair after getting to know me. There is no such thing as a cold woman, that’s what careless lovers claim to comfort themselves.”

" You are second born, I'm an only child. What I have between my legs is worth more than your life..." She harshly concluded. " As a maiden I'm valuable and I am not stupid enough to give that away to a pretty trojan boy."

Paris didn't seem as offended by her words as she thought he would.

" So, you find me pretty."

" It feels to me like you want to compete against Helen for the ' most beautiful person' award. " She mocked him. " You are pretty enough to stand a chance, but she would wreck you. "

" Is she really as ravishing as rumors claim? You greeks can't be trusted, Hector spotted you exaggerating about Achilles."

She chuckled carelessly before replying

" If you think I'm beautiful, she will change your life. When she got married father was so happy because he claims she was blocking suitors for me."

" I guess it was not the only reason. '' Hector casually commented. " Your aunt and uncle being together brings the family closer. "

Strong, loud laughter came out of her that she couldn't control, although she didn't even try.Once more, the men wondered what was wrong in the sayings.

They were so nice, they had no idea.

" You two are the funniest, most likable princes I have ever met... My stomach hurts from all the laughing!!

She had a few more chuckles and they had no idea of what to do.

" Are you alright?"

" Yes, Hector. I'm not drunk, if that is what you are implying. "

She glanced at him with an amused expression as an idea was coming to her.

" In fact, I'm going to prove it to you: let's dance. Do you think I haven't noticed that only Penelope has got the chance so far? You are disappointing all those ithacan girls who want to feel the grip of your famous arms. "

Hector didn't mind the tease.

" I can live with that, I didn't come here to impress women. I had enough with your servant and some maids of Odysseus looking at me as if I was the first man they had ever seen. "

" That wasn't personal. Eny only found you overwhelming to look at." She defended her friend. " I don't. Just like Achilles, you aren't that impressive to look at no matter how great you fight."

She had the feeling of being back at her formal dancing lessons from when she was still learning how to behave like a princess. The strict tutor would have been pleased watching her dance with Hector. Neither with him or Paris she showed her true level of skill, what she learned far away from those classes,a secret that had no place there. However, alongside the eldest brother her will to incarnate a perfectly well behaved princess was stronger. They didn’t seem like two persons having fun, more like two royal heirs in a meeting salute. It was alright for both of them, since they needed some calm.

Although she had more fun with him. Paris gave her the strange sensation of being dancing with a man that was moving for her as well as with her. He wanted her to look at him and admire his body in aesthetically pleasant movement, trying to make himself be noticed like a palace concubine sent to entertain the guests. It was like seeing herself in a reverse mirror, a man trying to use on her the same seduction tactic she once tried during the only time ever when she felt desperate for masculine attention. Paris was less cautious than she was, but his intentions were similar. Having the inverted perspective made her consider that she perhaps owed Achilles an apology for her behavior back then, although it was a bit too late for that. He wouldn’t care after all what happened between them later, she was all his with his complete awareness of that.

Yet there she was, dancing with the heir of the trojan crown as if that welcome party would be the receivement of her newest suitor.

“ Why are they staring at us?” She murmured, with annoyance. “ Paris was doing more scandal and I didn't see so many caring for that… Even your men are looking odd.”

Hector chuckled and she noticed a vibrant sparkle in his eyes.

“ You of all people, Greek Queen of Riddles, can’t see why? We are two heirs holding each one a half of the world.”

It was obvious, but she wasn’t expecting it coming from him.

“ I’m aware of that, but your brother…”

“ Paris has no access to the throne, no formal right to you… Some believe I do, and those are not only greeks.”

The news was completely unknown for her and he seemed perhaps a bit proud of surprising her playing her own game.

“ Why would anyone in Troy want to see you bring home the daughter of the man that seeks to destroy you?”

“ If I had one talent of gold for each time I have been advised to reach Mycenae with a wedding gift…” He honestly declared. “ They think that it would be the final victory for Troy because I would be the man of the marriage. If the news about your cultural infatuation with us reaches them, the people in the council believing this may try to convince my father about it.”

“ Don’t worry. I bet the same man who raised Paris would never force you into an arranged marriage.” She attempted to comfort him. “ I wouldn’t want me as a wife either, if i were you.”

“ You are the gift of Hera.” He quickly recalled. “ A riddle within the riddle, it was a warning.”

“ Pick me and you will get the chance to become the most powerful king the world has ever seen… only for the modest price of becoming Agamemnon’s personal battle slave until he would let you rule.”

Exactly as he supposed, he wished some of his father’s close friends would be listening to that girl.

“ I must suppose you want to save me from that horrible fate.”

She was not going to answer that.

“ Who is Andromache? Paris told me about her and it seems that someone has a crush…”

“ Are you accusing me like a mean little girl?” Hector affirmed in an ask, evidently amused. “ I see you interact with others, why do you act so childish only with me?”

They were bickering like Telemachus and Melantho for no need reason, she should have been explaining to him why.

“ Is your girl an amazon princess? Many people in Greece claim that you won the love of one.”

“ I’m serious.” The trojan insisted. “ Why me?”

She stopped moving, frozen by the question and the realization that she would have to be sincere.

“ Maybe because I grew up in your shadow, you are what my father thinks I was meant to be if I would have been the boy he wanted. I get competitive with you because, only if I feel I'm winning you, I prove him wrong. “

Nothing he could have possibly said would have been a proper answer to that, so he stayed in silence. To his surprise, she clinged to him in a quite friendly hug.

“ Hector… “ She added, whispering in fears anyone else would hear. “ Although you are a son, you have the spirit of an exhausted daughter struggling alone and I relate to that.”

He smiled and her soft laughing followed not far behind.

“ You may be a daughter, but you have the spirit of a firstborn prince consumed by the weight of his crown and I also relate to that.”

Hector gave her a gentle peek in the forehead and she released him with a smile. Under the distant but expectant surveillance they were being submitted to, they choose to abandon the activity and walk away to keep chatting. Many, the deceiveful local king included, may had perceived the wrong energy but their closeness was so strictly non romantic that they didn’t consider it.

“ So, tell me about your girl. “ She insisted once more, teasing him in a more friendly tone. “ When is the wedding? Do you have one scheduled? Don’t make her wait if you know she is the one.”

“ Would you ever let it go?” He complained,although she knew it was not a severe observation. “ I can always start making the same sort of questions and assumptions about your personal situation.”

The suggestion sounded plausible to her.

“ Me? What would you find so interesting in my boring life? I already told you everything about my ‘ situation’. I don’t have herds of infatuated men coming at me, only my greedy suitors who think like those fool men in Troy wanting you to take me.”

Like her moments before, he showed himself far from satisfied with that.

“ I highly doubt the most beautiful girl in the feast lacks real prospects.”

Unexpected, but she allowed it because she knew it was a clean compliment.

“ So, you think I’m pretty.”

She made him laugh by quoting Paris on purpose.

“ It’s an objective fact. Troy’s tallest mount is the Ida, my name is Hector and you are beautiful.”

“ I suppose I should say some objective facts about you.” She oddly but gently thanked him. “ You do look more handsome in person, but you have to work on your movements outside of battle. “

“ So, what about you?” Hector asked, making a truly hilarious impersonation of her voice. “ You must have someone in mind.”

Her chuckles were uncontrollable and she was barely able to believe that was the same man from a while ago.

“ You are actually good at impersonations! Finally a human fact about you.”

“ I’m waiting for yoours.” He copied the musical tone that caught his attention before.” Who is your secret crush? I bet you have one.”

He was being as annoying as she was just to make fun of her and her insistence about wanting to know about Andromache, but that inspired her a little experiment.

“ It’s Achilles.” She whispered, acting out as if she was following Hector’s joke instead of talking the purest truth in an exaggeratedly comical way. “ I often fantasize about sitting him on my father’s throne so I can sit on those glorious thighs while he holds me and whispers to me how much he loves me in ways no one would ever believe coming from him. I have an emotional void that will never be filled, except by an older man telling me that I'm pretty and he would kill for me even despite I don’t want him to.”

Hearing her say that with a serious tone made him break the character.

“ That was…, I could have never thought you would… “ Hector tried to answer between chuckles. “ It’s the most insane joke I have ever heard from the mouth of a noblewoman.”

She smiled, relief mixed with gratitude for the compliment.

“ Fame is unfair to you.” He added in conclusion. “ Princess, I’m afraid I could also laugh with you to the point of stomach ache. “

#troy 2004 #troy 2004 fanfiction #troy fanfiction #achilles x reader #hector x andromache #paris of troy #hector of troy #achilles #odysseus #penelope #telemachus #melantho #orlando bloom #eric bana #brad pitt #brad pitt x reader

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bookns · 1 year ago

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You're on your own, kid PART ONE

I waited all this time to write about how my song, the song that will never deterred off my #1 top song because I play it at least 3 times a day, the song I told my best friend that will be my favorite, the reason I wear two friendship bracelets that I don't take off, the very header of this blog. You're on your own, kid. These words never made much sense to me before this song but I always felt alone. I can't tell you how much of my childhood was spent telling people I want to write my story. Taylor wrote my story. She wrote about the boy who I used to stare at and wonder if he will ever like me. "I didn't choose this town. I dream of getting out." My life at home is tied to this town but I didn't choose it - I want to go to Paris and be a writer. "There's just one who can make me stay" This lyric reminds me of my brothers - I stay so they know who their big sister is. But I burn with each passing fire. "I searched the party of better bodies just to learn you never cared." That. I am the watcher - the person who sees - there actually was an instance at a party I went to where nobody did care. I was the invisible party goer (think Penelope Featherington) and this song gets that feeling of 'you don't care'. "I see the great escape." this blog was that escape. It was familiar as a friend and was my breakthrough that I could do this. "so long Daisy Mae" My Daisy Mae (aka my Dorothea) left me around the time I really got into writing, and this blog (maybe a few months prior). She's the reason I created it - I was so lonely she kept avoiding me and so I made this wonderful life changing blog in spite of my loneliness. (fun fact I changed the lyric into Daisy Maeve because to me it sounds cooler and my own inside joke with my favorite song) "I picked petals, he loves me not" I have a shirt with this exact lyric because of how much I love it. I was a boy-crazy girl and i picked a lot of petals cause of it. I regret it all the time but it brings me peace that the boy I once knew thinks about me. "Something different bloomed - writing in my room." How I wish to explain to you that writing in my room saved me. Words were my soul - heart - freedom - mind. This lyric is it. I found safety because I rather write in my room than anything. I LOVE it so much. "I play my songs in a parking lot" I have this odd memory of maybe 6 years ago of me singing in a parking lot and to me, that's my invisible string to this song. "I'll run away" I did run and still do to a place of knights and magic - books helped me run.

this is fucking part one - I have an issue

#taylor swift #taylorswift #you're on your own kid #midnights era #midnights taylor swift #midnights album

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jxrm · 4 months ago

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book log - 2023

the librarianist by patrick dewitt

same time next year by tessa bailey

did you hear about kitty karr? by crystal smith paul

lore olympus: volume one by rachel smythe

a court if thorns and roses by sarah j. mass

summer sisters by judy blume

the demigod files by rick riordan

mistletoe and mayhem by carly winter

you shouldn’t have come here by jeneva rose

a house with good bones by t. kingfisher

christmas presents by lisa unger

z: a novel of zelda fitzgerald

the storm runner by j.c. cervantes

just another missing person by gillian mcallister

take me home by beth moran

blood sugar by sascha rothchild

a court of mist and fury by sarah j. mass

the christmas orphans club by becca freeman

under her care by lucinda berry

paris: the memoir by paris hilton

our wives under the sea by julie armfield

the celebrants by steven rowley

keep it in the family by john marrs

housemoms by jen lancaster

the woman in me by britney spears

just like home by sarah gailey

trespasses by louise kennedy

silence for the dead by simone st. james

a good family by matt goldman

the fire keeper by j.c. cervantes

dead silence by s.a. barnes

sunshine nails by mai nguyen

lore olympus: volume one by rachel smythe

the mystery guest by nita prose

her little flowers by shannon morgan

woke up like this by amy lea

legendary children by tom fitzgerald

midnight is the darkest hour by ashley winstead

the leftover women by jean kwok

everyone here is lying by shari lapena

mother-daughter murder night by nina simon

you may now kill the bride by r.l. stone

the man i never met by elle cook

hold my girl by charlene carr

legends & lattes by travis baldree

the golden spoon by jessa maxwell

bright young women by jessica kroll

suddenly a murder by lauren munoz

the only one left by riley sager

zero days by ruth ware

good bad girl by alice feeney

the christmas wager by holly cassidy

fortune by elle won steil

theme music by t. marie vandelly

close to home by cara hunter

the true love experiment by christina lauren

penelope in retrograde by brooke abrams

everyone in my family has killed someone by benjamin stevenson

the modern girl’s guide to magic by lindsay hall

i feed her to the beast and the beast is me by jamison shea

hello stranger by katherine center

the unlikely pilgrimage of harold fry by rachel joyce

gone tonight by sarah pekkanen

the library of the dead by t.l. huchu

what never happened by rachel howzell hall

look out for the little guy by scott lang

the christmas mourner by marian mccarthy

every little breath by keri beevis

this might hurt by stephanie wrobel

the last word by taylor adams

a court of wings and ruin by sarah j. mass

forth wing by rebecca yaros

hello beautiful by ann napolitano

summer rental by rektok ross

the house across the lake by riley sager

a cursed covenant by leigh ferguson

her rebel highness by diana ma

stone heart by katee robert

the perfect match by dandy smith

camp zero by michelle min sterling

one by one by frieda mcfadden

the wishing game by meg shaffer

a court of frost and starlight by sarah j. mass

that summer feeling by bridget morissey

to die for by lisa grey

the wrong family by tarryn fisher

heiress apparently by diana ma

the school for good mothers by jessamine chin

tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow by gabrielle zevin

she started it by sian gilbert

best friends forever by shannon hollinger

the housekeepers by alex hay

secluded cabin sleeps six by lisa unger

lore olympus: volume two by rachel smythe

of women and salt by gabriela garcia

kismet by amina akhtar

the devil wears scrubs by frieda mcfadden

girl, forgotten by karin slaughter

come closer by sara gran

the exorcist’s house by nick roberts

august blue by deborah levy

hang the moon by jeannette walls

the thursday murder club by richard osman

a whole new world by liz braswell

run on red by noelle w. ihli

the last thing he told me by laura dave

lore olympus: volume three by rachel smythe

how to sell a haunted house by grady hendrix

the dead romantics by ashley poston

cassandra in reverse by holly smale

i used to be fun by melanie summers

the showrunner by kim moritsugu

runaway groomsman by meghan quinn

i want to die but i want to eat tteokpokki by baek she-hee

the whispers by ashley audrain

e. aster bunnymund and the warrior eggs at the earth’s core! by william joyce

allergies: poems on grieving and loving by maggie bowyer

hermione granger and the philosopher’s stone by sara baines-miller

the summer house by keri beevis

exiles by jane harper

just the nicest couple by mary kubica

the very secret society of irregular witches by sangu mandanna

have you seen her by catherine mckenzie

the shallows by holly craig

a love letter to whiskey by kandi steiner

hermione granger and the chamber of secrets by sara baines-miller

the coworker by frieda mcfadden

tiny beautiful things by cheryl strayed

you’re not supposed to die tonight by kalynn bayron

the little old lady who broke all the rules by catharina ingelman-sundberg

hermione granger and the prisoner of azkaban by sara baines-miller

the blonde identity by ally carter

nicolas st. north and the battle of the nightmare king by william joyce

women in white coats by olivia campbell

the ex talk by rachel lynn solomon

hermione granger and the goblet of fire by sara baines-miller

the wife before by shanora williams

gone again by minka kent

know my name by chanel miller

in the lives of puppets by t.j. klune

the homewreckers by mary kay andrews

going dark by melissa de la cruz

all the dangerous things by stacy willingham

counterfit by kirsten chen

the rewind by allison winn scotch

have i told you this already? by lauren graham

beyond the wand by tom felton

jana goes wild by farah heron

the perfect son by frieda mcfadden

america’s next reality star by laura heffernan

the new mother by nora murphy

georgie, all along by kate clayborn

the storied life of a.j. fikry by gabrielle zevin

a flicker in the dark by stacy willingham

the villa by rachel hawkins

device free weekend by sean doolittle

what the neighbors saw by melissa adelman

the library of lost and found by phaedra patrick

motherthing by ainslie hogarth

the block party by jamie day

tanqueray by stephanie johnston

the ex hex by erin sterling

rock paper scissors by alice feeney

the kiss curse by erin sterling

it ends with us - colleen hoover

the summer of broken rules by k.l. walther

the wife stalker by liv constantine

in my dreams i hold a knife by ashley winstead

the family remains by lisa jewell

my secret sister by lauren westwood

the engagement by samantha hayes

if we were villains by m.l. rio

the sleepover by keri beevis

twenty years later by charlie donlea

the doctor’s wife by daniel hurst

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sntsholloways · 2 months ago

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Dorian Holloway is definitely dying tonight. He should have foreseen the consequences of a game he is set to lose ⸻ should've counted his cards, prayed to his luck stars. But what can the moon do but desire? The rings of Saturn cannot shine more than him. He knows Nsilo is no Earth ⸻ she is more beautiful than the ocean bellows, unreachable in ways Mount Everest could only hope to be. A shipwreck in the seas of Mars. A plane crash in the skies of Neptune. Aphrodite from Venus. He did not orbit her atmosphere, could not reach a hand to her burning lights if he tried. He is too far away ⸻ a space cadet adrift. The moon, longing for a glimpse of the sun ⸻ turning, turning, turning, never laying eyes on the beauty of life. It pains him to admit he may never land on her grounds. He will burn forever in his desires, wishing and wanting and unsatisfied.

But the moon shines for all who wish to see, does it not? ⸻ Achilles and his men, Odysseus and Penelope. She might be Cleopatra and he, the snake, but the apple can taste sweet as poison on his tongue. If he makes himself Zeus, who is she to deny him? Thunder bringer. He knows the game; is bound to it by invisible ropes he wishes not to free himself from. Choke me with them, he wants to say, choke me until they mark my skin, until I'm a piece of you. The moon shines for others too. Perhaps Nsilo should be reminded of that.

Helen and Paris ⸻ ships in the night.

Pools of blue remain focused on the sun ⸻ Icarus and his wings, Dorian can feel the wax melting against his skin ⸻ but his fingers swiftly unbutton his shirt, remove it all together. This is the game she wishes to play, is it not? Houston, we are venturing into a meteor shower. His craters merely makeup to solidify his beauty. Who doesn't want the moon? Beautiful beautiful beautiful ⸻ Pretty boy, is that all you can be? Guilt dares not touch him; it knows it has no place on his fingertips. Only gold do ⸻ dark red when he trails the dripping path on his chest, bring it up to his mouth. Moans when the fingers touch his tongue. Eyes on him, stargazing his infinite constellations. His smile is the full moon ⸻ bright, big, open, fleeting. Flesh and teeth meet when he lunges forward, hand tangling in the hair of a woman who tastes like rot. He should know better.

No. He knows better; in the depths of his body, the marrow of his bones, carved just outside his soul ⸻ He should not be provoking a black hole like so. Nsilo is the universe ⸻ collapsing, burning, eating all in its entrails. She is everything. But autumn has passed and another circle is about to be finished, Dorian does not fear the seasons. He does not fear the sun. It is ever present, is it not? Even now, when the moon dares to move in front of it, demanding its attention, she does not leave. It brings him a wicked joy when his eyes lock onto her, hand pushing the woman's head to his neck. He should not, but the pressure continues until fangs are piercing his neck and he is loudly moaning for Nsilo to hear. An eclipse does not last forever, and Dorian Holloway fears he might not as well.

It is thrilling, to watch her, knowing another's touch plagues him. Stains him. He wants to be eaten alive today. He wants her to see ⸻ needs her to smell his lust, know he is willing to let this random, insignificant woman to fuck him. The astronaut has found a planet that isn't her ⸻ Dorian wants Nsilo to be aware of that. He needs her to take action. To grip him by his neck, pull his hair, bend him over. He wishes to bite her neck, drink from her like he is a starved man pulled out of a falling spaceship. His eyes seem to say, look what you have done. But his mouth only begs for more, hips instinctively buckling against a body that isn't hers.

Dorian Holloway wishes to die tonight ⸻ Under her hands, her tongue, her fangs. He will stop at nothing to achieve this.

The purpose of the moon is to orbit its planet. To follow a trajectory on a clear set path; the gravitational pull does the heavy lifting, and the moon simply, revolves. Around and around, worshipping the rays of the sun and watching the planet below through its rise and fall. It does not speak, argue or protest its role in the system. It simply is. A planet with no moon has no sense of time, direction; or path.

Castillon often thinks of Dorian as one of those inevitable moonrocks, leering down. Appearing at night, and disappearing to other duties in the day. Always there, but his presence becomes visible and damning as he likes to be the thing stared at in the sky. Bathing in the attention of the millions, knowing the moon is there, vibrant in its silvery hue, washing those beneath it in its awe.

Full, half, crescented — a show-off, to be a little slither one night, to full nude when demanding the shift of its planet.

Nsilo doesn't look at the moon, once. Why would she? It is the afternoon. And meteorites do not care for their pathway, veering off course to collide with whatever dares be in their path.

She addresses the woman, as if she were the one who had spoken.

"Please, let me arrange a private room for you both," An offer from the devil in heels, her smile forged on the blackest anvil, gleaming sharp. "You can partake in these activities and pleasures somewhere more suitable, just not here." And it is as though her Dorian is not there and is but a little bird squawking. Moons do not speak. They watch, they push and pull in their singular orbit. They do not go off their paths without reason; a meteorite hasn't struck, yet.

The cardshark leaves little room for argumentation on the main floor when she clarifies to the patron daring to make a scene. Voice low, she beckons, just once: "Blood belongs elsewhere."

Come. The gesture is urging, and security follow suit, curving around to encourage them off the floor, away from the exit. Dorian Holloway may die tonight, but he does not die before another does and he will see death in all its violence. It is punishing, for emerald hues to offer their faux courtesy to a woman whose patronage Nsilo no longer cares for. No fault of her own, that Dorian chose her; she is simply treading on Castillon's turf and dirtying her carpets. Dirtying it all. But she is not finished — never finished. There's not enough blood on the surface of the moon. Dorian wants blood, he wants it bad, then he may have it.

"I can spare him for the evening, of course. I have plenty others I can call on," Castillon leads them further afield, through the closed depths of the bloodhouse that hasn't had its day-to-night shift yet. She takes them through to the back, through the lavish corridors, lined with freshly filled decanters, open doors, some closed.

She finds them an empty room, and waves a hand, offering it to them. Security falls away from the flank, nodding.

Nsilo stands, waiting. "There's no need for a quiet, or fast one. Take all the time you desire." Ruthlessness doesn't always come with blades and horror. It can come in dares and taunts, vicious kindness that never appears as one wants it to. "It's on the house, take your fill."

Dorian is there. It is agonising to know that whilst smeared in his own, delicious blood that drips down his skin. He wears fresh marks; red raw and blooming. They litter his body like a foreign infection, foul and in need of a salve. Castillon would like to do severe, terrible things at this moment because she dares him to walk into that private booth — yet she has not cared to look at him once upon her arrival.

#. nsilo #violence tw

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scorpsik · 2 years ago

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Fics Masterlist 3.

I really am so very sorry.

Adding new fics Wednesdays and Saturdays x

SURPRISE IN STORE : Even a shopping trip doesn't go smoothly for Emily. cw; ref domestic violence.

HOODWINKED : Em finds herself caught up in corruption - but who is corrupt?

GOLD STAR FOR TRYING : Em + Dave reconnect after CME

TOURIST : Penelope visits Em in London

LITTLE D : Emily helps Spencer with his addiction.

CARDS ON THE TABLE : Doyle arc. Derek gets Em to admit what has been happening

SMALL BLUE THING : 7.01. It all goes wrong when the team try to swap Ian for Declan.

STARTING OVER AGAIN : Angst! Em and JJ talk en route to Paris

HELP ME EMILY : After receiving a letter from a child in need, Emily gathers the team to try and find him. 3 chapters, TW: referenced child abuse

FOOD FOR THOUGHT : Emily ate The Stew. Floyd's stew. cw: canninalism.

ME AND MY TRUE LOVE : Someone is watching Emily. TW; STALKING and all that goes with it.

A FRIEND ALONG THE WAY : Em at Yale. wlw relationship

WHEN IT RAINS : AU For 'Retaliation' ep. Em's day goes from bad to worse.

LINIMENT : Declan comes searching for Em - and she and Aaron put a bully in his place. cw: ref child abuse (not sexual)

IF : What if 15 yr old Emily made a different choice?

WASHING IT AWAY : Both Aaron and Emily struggle after a case

CAPTIVE HEART : Emily is in prison. Is there any hope for her? AU Doyle arc.

THE WRONG TARGET : After losing Stephen, Emily is a bitch to the replacement agent. Will they come to an understanding before the mission is ruined?

PUNCTURE REPAIR : Dave comforts Emily after her ordeal in Colorado. Injury, nightmares, friendship.

FATE. UP AGAINST YOUR WILL : 2004. Em has a new life - but her old life is returning. AU Doyle arc. Violence.

NOTHING TO PROVE : When Emily becomes UC, she has to prove her abilities to her friends.

ABSENT FRIENDS : Em visits Matthew's grave cw: grief

MINE : Ian forces Emily to reveal herself to the team. cw; violence

BLAME : When JJ is injured, Emily has to deal with her guilt and the repercussions from Barnes.

COMPLETE : Derek helps Em recover from Colorado

SCENT MEMORY : When Em is triggered by a smell Dave helps her through.

RULES : The Em/JJ hug, finally, in CME

THIRD TIME LUCKY? : Cyrus' cult comes after Emily once again. cw; violence

FLEDGLING : S2. Em doesn't feel welcome at the BAU. Em, Gideon, JJ. Humour, self doubt.

JACK IN THE BOX : What if Emily and Derek beat Hotch home in ep 100? Em, Derek, Aaron, Jack. canon typical violence.

FALLING : Ian didn't think himself capable of love - but there's something about Lauren.

ACTION/CONSEQUENCE : Emily isn't sure she can take Cyrus' beating. cw; violence.

PRICKED : Em is drugged whilst apprehending a suspect.

WISH YOU WERE HERE : Dave visits Emily's grave

PAYBACK : Ian abducts Emily. violence. Canon divergent.

LET ME IN : Emily tries to get through to a depressed Hotch after Haley's death. Grief, friendship, humour.

THIEF! : When Em sees JJ's son commit a petty crime, she intervenes.

LIES : (Post Paris) Spencer's anger with JJ shows no sign of relenting - so Emily tries to talk (shout) him around.

PUSHING THE LIMIT : Unravelling a conspiracy gets Emily fired. Canon divergent to the Voit storyline.

UPPER HAND : Ian was waiting for her, and she shot him.

BREAKING : Benjamin Cyrus forces Spencer to hurt Emily to test his loyalty. 3 chapters. cw: violence. Em, Spencer, JJ.

SIGNS : After letting Ian sleep with her, Emily is pregnant.

FROZEN : Askari kidnapped JJ and Em was just a few seconds too late. MAJOR CH DEATH! Angst, mentions of rape. Grief. Em, Aaron, Will, JJ.

LOSING LAUREN : Very angsty. Em grieves for Lauren. Tsia, Cylde. Anger, drinking, sex, depression.

Young Offender : When 17yr old Em is arrested, she calls Aaron.

Like Father : When Em sees Declan again, he is not the sweet boy she remembered. CW: radicalisation, a couple of racist epithets. 5 chapters.

Where I Belong : As Director Emily's missions are different to what they were.

Past is present is future : DARK. TW: Rape, violence. When an old case comes back to haunt Emily, the team view her very differently. 5 chapters.

Marlene : When her office cleaner needs help, Emily is right there. CW; domestic abuse. Nothing graphic.

Being Patient : Hotch tries to talk sense into Em when she insists on returning to work post ML.

Off The Rails : An undercover mission goes wrong and Emily finds herself at the hands of a killer. TW: ref sexual threat/rape.

Caregiver : Post ML. Emily speaks with Kathy.

Caught In The Space Between Good And Evil : Emily's mind is in turmoil, post Demonology. Confusion, Possession. Em + Rossi.

You. Again. : Hotch remembers questioning Emily about some bombings in Boston.

Choices : In the aftermath of Barnes' 'interview', Emily remembers another line she crossed. TW: very dark psychological torture situation.

Fears : When JJ has a panic attack, a bond is formed with Emily.

One More Secret : Em returns from Paris - with Ian's baby. The team need to help her eliminate the threat to keep the baby safe.

Her Arms : Em helps Reid through Maeve's death

Craving : When Em starts smoking again, Derek knows something is wrong. Secrets, banter, Doyle arc

Clover : Penelope sees Em's brand

Can I Rely On You : JJ struggles during a case - but Em is there for her. yw: reference to suicide

How To Hurt Your Best Friend : Derek and Em are close and they know how to hurt one another. S7 Anger; mild sex; swearing.

Where Have You Gone? : JJ's home life is a disaster - what has turned Will into a bully? 4 chapters. Angst; domestic abuse (ch2 only); set during S12. JJ;Em;Will;Henry;Tara

Honey, I'm Home : Ian finds Emily in Paris. Injury, angst, violence.

Getting Back : Post ML. Emily's mother makes a nuisance of herself as Hotch frets and Emily recovers.

Big Shoes : Em has accepted the job as unit chief - but is she up to it?

Night Owls : JJ, Em, humour, smoking

From Me To You and You To Me : Panic attacks. Em and Declan help one another through.

Solaris : Em and Spencer watch the film and talk.

Godparent : Emily wishes she were good enough. Self doubt, jealousy. JJ, Pen, whole team.

Missing Pieces Of Sleep : Em is alone and suffering in Paris. Bleak angst!

Something New : Hotch finds teen Em unconscious. tw; drug use, talk of abortion. Friendship.

Bonded : It has been a bad case. Dave gets Em to talk about it. TW; mention of suicide + abortion. Grief, mourning, friendship, humour.

Snakes In The Grass : Em finds herself in danger in the field. Betrayal, injury, OC, BAU team

Family Matters : When Elizabeth is hurt, Emily feels rage like never before. Hospitals, mugging, anger.

Judgements : Ep; Killer App - Dave peels away some of Em's layers to find out what's bugging her about the case.

Appreciation : Mosely Lane. JJ takes Derek's words to heart, but Em is there for her.

Running For Two : Em goes on the run from Ian... to save her baby. Angst; threat; violence; whole BAU team. 3 chapters.

Great Expectations : What if Hotch told Em she COULD be Carrie's guardian? (kinda fluffy)

Over Her Head : Emily is in Ian's bed for the first time, struggling to become and contain Lauren. Angst; mild sex.

Precautions : Doyle arc angst. Em pushes away those who love her because the danger is coming.

Welcome To My Nightmare : 3 nightmares that plague Em. Childhood trauma, injury, falling. Elizabeth P, Rossi, jj

The Girls Are Back In Town : Em, PG, J, Tara drinking the night away. Humour.

Alone/Together : Post ML. Derek / Emily friendship

Here's To You : Post 'Run' - Will thanks Em for saving him. Fluff+angst.

History Repeats : Teen Em has a pregnancy scare + Hotch helps

Fishing : New guy Dave tries to find out what makes Prentiss tick. Friendship/humour

Wrecked : Em, Dave + Hotch are in a car accident and need to get to a hospital. injury/blood etc

No Birds : 1 week ago the Lauren mission ended. But what is left of Em in its wake? Angst, angst,angst; drinking, ref threat. Clyde+Em

Let It Bleed : Paris: JJ struggles to help Em cope. Angst; blood; ref suicide; meds and injury.

Deja Vu : Demonolgy. Dave thinks he met Emily many years ago. ref abortion; friendship; memories; light angst

Job Done : Emily has done what she was here to do. TW suicide; major character death; BLEAK ANGST!

Face Behind The Mask : Em's first JTF12 mission. Implied SA/rape. Kidnap, angst. 4 chapters.

Returning : Em returns from Paris but can't shake her other selves. Angst; whole team caring.

Eye To Eye : Em graduates the FBI, a new start after Interpol, but no one is there to support her. Elizabeth P; arguing; caring; swearing

Free Time : Flirting and fun on the jet. Everyone has plans for the weekend except Emily....

Unwilling Sacrifice : Emily suspects a plant in the BAU after her return from Paris. Injury, violence, BAU team

Crossing The Line : Canon divergent on the climax of the Doyle arc. What if Emily gave Lauren back to Ian? And what if she didn't stop when she had the upper hand...?

Endurance ; Palestine 1994 - Em is undercover for Interpol. Torture, fear, starvation, death. Clyde Easter.

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #fanfic

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sequinsmile-x · 1 year ago

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Accords

A prenup.

Her mother wanted her to sign a fucking prenup.

-x-

Hi friends,

Couldn't really tell you where this one came from. It's an idea I've vaguely referred to in fics before, but last night when I was trying to sleep this came to me in a fully fledged fic and here we are!

Hope you like it, and as always please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily blows out a steady breath as the car stops, the silence they’d travelled in only gets louder as the engine turns off. She stares at her mother’s house before she closes her eyes and groans, pressing the back of her head into the headrest of her car seat. She hears a gentle chuckle from next to her while she feels Aaron wrap his hand around hers, squeezing as he links their fingers together.

“It will be okay, sweetheart,” he says, lifting their joint hands to his lip to kiss her knuckles, his smile soft when she opens her eyes to look at him, “It’s dinner.”

“And wedding planning,” she grumbles, unable to stop the smile that breaks free across her face, the mention of their upcoming wedding something that never failed to make joy bloom in her chest, “It’s dinner and wedding planning.”

It had been over a year and a half since Aaron had proposed. She still remembered it like it was yesterday. He’d involved Penelope in the set-up, her friend delighted to be part of the plan, and had her call Emily back to work after she’d only been home for less than an hour. She remembers her fury, the annoyance that burned through her and kept her warm as she drove back to the office that cold winter night, her plans for an hour alone in the clawfoot bathtub in their house ruined because her boyfriend wanted her to look over some paperwork. The irritation had faded the moment she stepped into the bullpen. It was empty, the lights off, the only glow coming from Aaron’s office.

When she stepped over the threshold into his office she knew what was happening. There were candles everywhere and he was standing there, a nervous smile on his face as if he was worried she’d say no as he told her that he loved her. Then he got down on one knee in the place where they’d first met, a ring in his hand and a promise of forever on his lips.

She’d said yes, tears on both of their cheeks as she knelt down in front of him and kissed him, her hands on his cheeks as she held him in place. She’d said right there and then that she didn’t want a long engagement, that she wanted to be his wife as soon as possible, and she’d meant it.

Right up until she was standing in their bathroom holding a positive pregnancy test two weeks later.

She knows they could have simply gone down to city hall, and as she sat on her mother’s driveway with an evening of wedding planning ahead of her she wishes they had, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted a wedding, even if it was smaller than her mother wanted it to be. She wanted to celebrate their love in front of their friends, their family, and she knew she didn’t want to be pregnant whilst they did that. So they waited, Aaron as supportive of her decisions as he always was, and now their son, Lucas, was 11 months old, and the wedding was only a few months away.

There were times when she struggled to believe that this was her life. That she was engaged to the love of her life, and that they were raising their sons together. Sometimes she worried she’d wake up alone in Paris, that the last few years of their lives were some dream that her subconscious had come up with to protect her from the fact everyone she loved thought she was dead.

Aaron hums and kisses her knuckles again, “And that is why I am the designated driver,” he says, winking as he drops her hand so he can unbuckle his seatbelt, “So you can drink as much wine as you want.”

She moans in delight as she undoes her seatbelt, “And that is why I’m marrying you,” she says, smiling at him when he raises an eyebrow at her. They both open the doors and get out of the car, and she winks at him as they both stand, “One of the reasons I’m marrying you.” She walks slower than usual as they approach her mother’s house, and she sighs once more before she rings the bell, leaning into Aaron’s side as he wraps an arm around her, “If she brings up the centrepieces again I’m leaving.”

Aaron laughs and kisses her temple, “Remember, it’s our wedding, sweetheart.”

She chuckles humourlessly, “You try telling her that.”

The door opens and they exchange smiles with Elizabeth’s housekeeper as she lets them into the house. Aaron squeezes Emily’s hip as they walk into the dining room, and she falters when she sees her mother isn’t alone. There’s a man she recognises as her mother’s lawyer, a man called Phillip Stevens, and she immediately feels her shackles go up, her shoulders tensing as she realises something is going on.

“Mother, hi,” she says, smiling as she slips into the seat opposite her mother, Aaron’s hand on her shoulder as he guides the seat out for her, “Phillip, it’s been a long time,” her eyes flick to her mother’s, “I didn’t realise we’d have company tonight.”

“Hello Emily,” Phillip says, clearing his throat as he picks up on the tension in the air, “It’s been a while,” he stands to shake Aaron’s hand, “You must be Aaron Hotchner.”

“Emily’s fiance,” Aaron says as he nods, squeezing Phillip’s hand a little stronger than necessary. He can tell something is wrong, Emily’s shift from reluctance to irritation clear in how straight her back is, in the way she clasps her hands tightly together on the table in front of her, “Phillip was it?”

“Yes, sorry,” the other man answers as they break apart and sit back down, “Phillip Stevens.”

“He’s Mother’s lawyer,” Emily says, her eyes burning into the profile of her mother’s face, painfully aware of how she was avoiding her eye contact. She sighs as she shakes her head, “Look, if this is about a trust fund for the boys again, I’ve told you-”

“It’s not about that, Emily,” Elizabeth says, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived, “You’ve made your feelings about that perfectly clear.”

It was something that Elizabeth had brought up as soon as Emily told her she was pregnant. She was insistent that Emily and Aaron set up trust funds for Jack and Lucas, something Emily had shot down every time it was mentioned. She wanted different for her children, and she knew she’d make sure they were provided and cared for without holding a pot of money over their heads that they could only access at a certain age or if they met certain criteria. Elizabeth hadn’t understood it, they’d argued about it several times over the last 18 months, but Emily hoped that she’d finally let it go, that she respected her parenting choices.

Emily blows out a steady breath, “Then why is Phillip here?” She asks, raising her eyebrow, “I’m assuming he’s not here to talk about flower arrangements.”

“Emily,” Elizabeth chastises, using a tone of voice that she’d used on her when she was a teenager late home from curfew and smelling of vodka. She smiles apologetically at Phillip before she turns back to her daughter and future son-in-law, “Phillip is here to help you draw up a prenup.”

For a moment it's silent. The words hanging heavy in the air around them, making the tension even thicker. Emily almost chokes on it, a humourless laugh escaping as she shakes her head, her lungs filling with disbelief.

A prenup.

Her mother wanted her to sign a fucking prenup.

She feels her irritation catch fire, thrumming under her skin. She knows she’d be annoyed if she had a normal relationship with her mother. The one she’d always secretly craved where she could talk to her about anything, where she could call in the middle of the night because her baby was cranky and she’d tried everything she could think of and she wanted advice. A relationship where they could excitedly be planning for her wedding without the knowledge every little thing would turn into an argument or, apparently, an evening drawing up an agreement she wanted no part of.

“There are plenty of standard agreements,” Phillip starts, pulling paperwork out of his briefcase.

“A prenup?” She asks, cutting over Phillip as she places her hand on Aaron’s knee under the table, squeezing tightly, her nails digging into his skin through the material of his pants.

“Yes, Emily,” Elizabeth repeats, “I’ve been speaking to Phillip, and given the…disparities between your and Aaron’s financial situations I thought it was best-”

“You thought it was best?” Emily asks incredulously, “You thought it was best to trick us into coming here under the guise of wedding planning to try to convince me to pull together a fucking prenup?”

“Emily.” Elizabeth scolds again, looking scandalised at Emily's language, “Phillip is only here to help.”

“We don’t need any help. And we certainly don’t need a prenup,” Emily says firmly, looking at Phillip before she carries on, “I’m sorry my mother wasted your time.”

“I’m just trying to protect you and your interests,” Elizabeth says, staring her daughter down, the two men watching the tense exchange between mother and daughter. Aaron wants to interject, but he knows Emily won’t thank him for it, her preference that he stay out of her clashes with her mother well established.

She didn’t need him to fight her battles for her, she needed him after it was done, both she and her mother always doomed to walk away as losers. She needed his help to sew herself back together, to stitch over wounds that were reopened again and again, a pattern she and Elizabeth were constantly repeating. Their love for each other, despite everything, a curse as much as it was a blessing.

“From who?” She asks, furrowing her brows, “The man I love? The father of my children? The person I own a house with?”

“The person you bought a house for.”

Emily stands up, pushed upwards by her fury, her body moving outside of her control as protection for the man she loves surges through her, “I used the money that was in my trust fund as I chose,” she says, repeating what she’d said countless times, “And both of our names are on the deed.”

“Em,” Aaron says, squeezing her hand, “It’s okay.”

“No it isn’t okay,” she half shouts, her teeth clenched as she blows out a breath, “It isn’t okay,” she looks back at her mother, “We don’t need a prenup.”

The silence is tense again for a moment before Elizabeth clears her throat and turns to look at her friend, “Phillip, would you like to stay for dinner?”

Emily sighs as she sits back down, her jaw tight as she stares at her mother. She had won this particular argument, but she knew it was far from over.

___

Dinner is awkward.

It’s a long, painful, couple of hours filled with small talk and comments from Elizabeth that Emily tries to let wash over her. They leave as soon as they can, the goodbyes they exchange tense and uncomfortable.

Emily exchanges a smile with Jessica as they arrive home, thanking her for looking after the boys for the evening. She excuses herself to go upstairs, desperate to see her sons, to ease some of the tightness in her chest that only her mother could create. She sneaks into Jack’s room first, careful as she sits on the edge of his bed so she doesn’t wake him. She smiles as she straightens his covers around his shoulders and runs her fingers through his hair.

She may not have given birth to him, but he was the boy who’d made her a mother. She’d fallen in love with him before she’d fallen in love with Aaron. It was easy to love Jack, uncomplicated and all-consuming. He was the one who taught her that she could love that way, a maternal kind of love she thought she must have been born without, a part of her that she worried was missing because her mother had never really had it.

She sighs as she leans down to kiss his forehead, “Love you, sweet boy,” she whispers, kissing him again before she stands up, looking at him once more before she slips out of the room.

She opens the door to the nursery and smiles as she spots Lucas standing up in his crib, she laughs as she walks in and closes the door behind her before switching on the main light. The little boy smiles at her and makes grabbing motions with his fists, babbling in a way that was so close to Mama but it made her ache.

“You should be sleeping, mister,” she says as she walks across the room. She reaches into the crib and picks him up, lifting her into her arms, “Mommy missed you tonight.”

She’d been terrified most of her pregnancy. Her doctor’s warnings that her age and her medical history could make it difficult always in the back of her mind whenever she felt a twinge or whenever she had an appointment. She’d cried when they found out they were having a boy, a reaction she knows she would have had no matter what they were told. She remembered holding him for the first time, her body exhausted and pushed to its absolute limit as she was handed her screaming, bright red little boy. The love instantaneous and overwhelming, a feeling that had never faded, growing day by day instead, forever growing outwards.

She’d do anything for him and Jack. Her love for them unlimited and unconditional.

Lucas rests his head on her chest, one of his hands tangling in her hair and the other in the neckline of her blouse. She rubs his face against her and she sighs contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before she sits in the loveseat they kept in his room, the place she’d nursed him for those long first nights of having a newborn.

“Did you miss, Mommy? She asks, running her hand up and down his back as he lays on her chest, “Is that why you’re still awake?”

“He always misses you when you’re not around.”

She looks up and sees Aaron standing in the doorway, a soft smile on his face. She hums and kisses the top of Lucas’s head again, “I always miss him too.”

Aaron closes the door and walks over to them. He sits next to her on the loveseat. He kisses Lucas’s temple before he wraps his arm around Emily and places his other hand on their son’s back over hers.

“Are you okay?” He asks, making sure to keep his voice quiet so they could get Lucas to fall asleep. Emily sighs and she rests her cheek on top of her son’s head and she turns to look at Aaron.

“I love him and Jack so much I physically ache, Aaron,” she says, her lips pressed together as she briefly closes her eyes, “Sometimes it physically feels like it hurts, like there is a hole in my chest because my heart is walking around outside of my body…” she opens her eyes to look at him, “I love them.”

He nods. He’s heard what she hasn’t said, what she never says, so much of her relationship with her mother something that went unspoken.

“She does love you, Em,” he says, running circles on her shoulder with his thumb. She sighs and lifts her head, her smile tight and sad as she looks at him.

“She has a funny way of showing it,” she replies, shaking her head, “She didn’t tell us what her plan was for tonight because she knew I’d say no.”

“It’s her way of showing she cares,” he says, squeezing her shoulder when she frowns at him, her grip on a now half-asleep Lucas getting tighter, “I’m not saying she goes about it the right way,” he adds, watching how she deflates, how the fight drains out of her, “But it’s her way of caring,” he pauses, clearing his throat as he chooses his words carefully, not wanting to upset her any more than she had already been that evening, “Maybe we should get one.”

She frowns at him, “A prenup?” She asks, and her frown deepens when he nods. She clenches her jaw and looks straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with him as she looks down at their son, “No. I don’t want one.”

“Em-”

“I said I don’t want one,” she says harshly, having to stop herself from yelling at him, partially because she’s got her son asleep on her chest, partially because she knows it’s not Aaron she’s actually mad at, “We don’t need one,” she looks at him again, and the sadness in her eyes makes his heart ache, “You don’t think we need one do you?”

He sighs and pulls her closer to him, “I never thought I’d break up with Haley,” he says, feeling how she tenses against him, her eyes wide and shining as she scoffs in disbelief, “Not that I think anything is going to happen to us, sweetheart, I’m just saying things happen sometimes that we can’t control. And I don’t want you to regret anything.”

The thought of things going wrong between them makes her want to cry. They’d both been through too much already, had more than their fair sure of heartbreak and tragedy, and whilst she would never have dubbed herself as a romantic before him, she does believe in their happy ending. In the life they had now.

“Even if…” she trails off, unable to bring herself to say it, to even put it out into the universe that their marriage could end before they’d even got married, so instead she clears her throat and starts again, “If the worst happened, I wouldn’t want to fight over money, or what was mine or yours,” she says, unhooking one of her arms from around Lucas so she can cup Aaron’s cheek, “This is our home, and we bought it with our money,” she says, smiling sadly, “Nothing would ever change that.”

He turns his head to kiss her palm, “Em…”

“Jack was just yours when we met,” she says, equating everything else they had to the thing that she believed made them truly well off - their family, “Would that be any less true if we weren’t together anymore?”

He frowns, his eyebrows knitting together at the absurdity of the question, “Of course not.”

She smiles as she runs her knuckles down his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble coming through against her skin, “Then why would something as unimportant as money be any different.”

Aaron nods, the heaviness of the conversation as overwhelming for him as it was for her, and he kisses her hand one more time before she places it back on Lucas’s back.

“What about if we just did it to appease your mother?” Aaron suggests, “We both know she won’t drop it.”

Emily chuckles and rests her head on the back of the loveseat behind her, “Honey, if I made decisions just to appease my mother I would have married someone she approved of back in my mid-twenties,” she says, her smile playful for the first time all evening, “I wouldn’t be marrying my boss nor would I have had his baby out of wedlock.”

He raises his eyebrow at her, “Is this your way of telling me your mother doesn’t approve of me?” He jokes and she laughs, shaking her head lovingly at him.

“She would have wanted me to get a prenup even if I’d married someone she chose for me,” she says, and he knows thats where some of her resistance to the idea comes from, the fact it’s a reflection of a life she never wanted, of the person she never truly was. “She likes you, I think she likes you better than she likes me, she’s just…” she blows out a breath, “I don’t think she’ll ever let go of the person she wanted me to be,” she smiles sadly at him and shrugs. She looks down at her son, at his innocent face as he sleeps against her, a patch of drool on her blouse, and she sighs again, “Just like I’ll always hope one day she’ll be the mom I want.”

He cups her cheek and makes her look at him, and he leans in to kiss her, his lips firm and loving against hers. He smiles as he pulls back, his thumb delicate against her cheek as he strokes her skin.

“Our boys are lucky to have you.”

She beams at him, any compliment about her ability as a mother her favourite. Comments she’d store away for the days when it felt like she was failing at everything.

“Thank you,” she replies, stamping her lips against his, “They are lucky to have you too,” she kisses him once more and rests her head on his shoulder, sinking into his embrace as he holds both her and their youngest son. She yawns and he chuckles.

“Want me to put him in his crib?” He says, kissing the top of her head, “So you can go to bed?”

She shakes her head and holds Lucas impossibly closer, not quite wanting to let him go, “Not yet,” she says, breathing in her son, the scent of his no tears shampoo, “I want to stay here for a bit.”

Aaron nods, never one to deny her anything, and he rests his cheek on the top of her head, “We can stay here as long as you want, sweetheart.”

-x-

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