#please god don’t let actual experts descend upon me

[daisychainsandbowties]

me seeing your bread tags for Beatrice, Lilith and Ava 👀

also me having written a few stories where Ava made sandwiches with croissants 👀 and one where Lilith heats up a croissant by the fire for Ava 👀

do people not use croissants as bread ???

listen i’m no expert and i literally cannot express how much respect i have for the practice of microwaving a croissant with ham & extra butter inside and then eating the dripping mess with bare hands

but my understanding is that a croissant is a pastry, not a bread. it’s made with a pastry dough, and while yes a baker can make croissants, they’re in the same food genre as pies, quiches, tarts, turnovers, etc.

having made bread (i bake an excellent braided loaf 😌) that sort of dough is differentiated from pastry dough because in most cases bread contains relatively little fat (just some oil usually unless it’s brioche which is sweet bread but that’s different from pastry anyway & as i would say to my students “beyond the scope of this class”), whereas pastry contains a good source of fat or shortening to give that flaky puff-pastry texture to patisserie like croissants. in pastry i’m looking for lamination & in bread i’m (typically) looking for rise. i’m looking for crumb as opposed to flake.

so a croissant is not technically a bread, though it is powerful and can still accomplish bread things.

[ijustwant2write]

A Secret Romantic-Benedict Bridgerton x Reader x Eloise Bridgerton (Platonic) (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @elenawinchstr)

Part 1

Masterlist

Tags: @marvel-ousnesss @myficplace @yelenas-lova @lavxnder @s-unflowxr 

Summary: Benedict and Eloise both anticipate Lady (Y/N)’s social event, as does their mother, causing tensions to rise and panic to ensue. Benedict doesn’t want his mother ruining what he may have with (Y/N), asking Eloise for her help, who gladly plays the role of a good sister.

Characters: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Eloise Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Anthony Bridgerton and Violet Bridgerton

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff

                                   *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Benedict hastily moved around the house, avoiding his mama at all costs. She called out his name repeatedly, growing frustrated at his childish manner. He was supposed to discuss a plan with her about how he should prepare to court Lady (Y/N), but he knew better; his mama knew nothing of (Y/N) (he admitted, he still had much to learn about her too), and he didn’t want his chance to slip away. Although he was confident at her house when he called upon her, there was a sickening doubt looming in his mind that if he did anything wrong, another suitor could easily take his place.

“You have no where else to hide brother.” Anthony smirked, his eyes skimming over the top of his newspaper.

Benedict sighed, accepting defeat. She would find him in a matter of minutes, especially since Anthony’s office was the last place she would look. 

“Please, just let me stay her for a few moments.” Benedict begged.

Anthony chuckled, putting down the papers as he reclined in his chair.“Oh dear, I see things are turning serious quite quickly.”

“Yes, which wouldn’t be a problem if mama wasn’t making this such a big ordeal.”

“But it is to her.”

Benedict knew this.“I know that, because someone hasn’t found a woman to marry, so it then falls onto my shoulders.”

“I haven’t seen you so anxious before. Sit down, try to relax.”

Benedict took his offer, practically collapsing into the chair on the other side of the desk. Anthony stood, pouring out a drink each and handing one to Benedict. Though not one to drink in the early afternoon, he gladly sipped at it, wishing he would just calm down.

“Besides mama, what is going on in that head of yours?” Anthony asked. 

He genuinely wanted to help. He felt a slight guilt knowing that his mama was more excited about this possible partnership, seeing as he never gave her the satisfaction of even socialising with women. 

“I worry that I may not be enough for (Y/N).” he said.“Of course, I have talked to women, I know the right things to say, but I also know that I will not want to engage in further conversation. Whereas with (Y/N), she intrigues me, so much that even after we danced and talked for hours, I still felt like I hardly spent any time with her. I thought about every word I said, listened intently to everything that poured out of her mouth. There are no other women like her.”

Anthony didn’t speak for a few seconds.“You should write poems alongside your art work.”

Benedict groaned, about to stand when Anthony stopped him.

“I am teasing you brother. Look, it’s extremely obvious that you have fallen for this woman. Putting feelings aside for a moment, she also comes from a well off family with a respectable background, so you’ve done very well in that department. This art exhibition will allow me to also see what Lady (Y/N) and her family are like, as well as keep mama away from you both as much as I can.”

“You would do that for me?”

“You seem shocked. I will pretend not to be offended.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know that you too do not like to be....bothered by mama at these events. No doubt she’ll talk to you about my potential courtship all night.”

The door opened as he finished speaking, Violet popping her head in. Her smile widened when she saw both her sons in the same room, now able to speak with them both about Lady (Y/N). Anthony and Benedict shared a look, knowing they would be there for some time.

Elsewhere in the house, Eloise was suffering through a conversation with Hyacinth. As Daphne had to endure, Hyacinth was questioning her older sister, wanting to know everything there was to know about the balls they attended. She wanted to make sure she had all the knowledge she needed when it was her turn to debut. They never spoke of these things in front of her or Gregory and she wanted all the answers. However, Eloise was not revealing anything, and making it seems that everything to do with debuting was awful.

“Go away and pester somebody else.” Eloise huffed as she descended the stairs away from her sister.

“Why are you always so mean to me? I’m just asking questions!” Hyacinth protested.

Eloise felt guilty, especially since Hyacinth was still young and didn’t understand many things about the world yet.“I’m sorry, but I’m not the best person to ask these questions.”

“Why don’t you want to get married?”

“If I explain, you won’t understand.”

“Yes I will!”

“You won’t Hyacinth.”

“You’re so mean!”

The young girl stomped off, having a tantrum to herself. Eloise did feel bad for being so snappy with her sister, but she really didn’t like talking about these things, doing all she could to avoid it where possible. It just made her feel miserable. And who wants to dote on a topic that eliminates all happiness from them?

However, Eloise did find that she was excited about the art exhibition. She was curious as to how (Y/N) and her brother’s encounter would go. For a moment, she felt like her mama. It sent shudders down her spine. It was nice to have the pressure and attention off of her, and to see her brothers in the spotlight. She knew too many friends with brothers who had it easier than the women of the family. Of course they had certain expectations, but Eloise did not see any men parading around in uncomfortable, tight dresses, with over the top embellishments and feathers. 

The remaining days leading up to the art exhibition were filled with dress and suit fittings, lessons on the (Y/L/N) family, and making sure everyone knew how important this day could be. Benedict grew more and more nervous as it approached, his mama making him realise that this could be a turning point in his life. Before this was all about him being excited to see (Y/N), to be in her company again, now it was as if he was proposing to her.

Eloise stepped out into the garden, welcoming the warmth that was still lingering at this time of night. She couldn’t sleep, knowing what was on her mind, but not wanting to admit it. She wasn’t surprised to see Benedict already on the swing set, secretly smoking as they had both done before. A small smile appeared on her face as she approached him, making sure to create some sort of noise as to not startle him.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one being kept awake.” she said as she sat down.

“I haven’t even tried to sleep yet.” Benedict said before inhaling through his cigarette again.

“Is someone nervous?” she wasn’t teasing him, she was concerned.

“Yes.” he surprisingly said.“I’m nervous because mother has made me believe everything is depending on this next meeting. Yet she forgets how long Daphne took to decide who she was marrying.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous.”

“And why is that?”

“Because (Y/N) likes you.” 

Benedict chuckled."Ah, I forgot you were the expert on such topics."

"I may not know a lot about...feelings and love, but I am not a fool. I saw the way your eyes lit up when you first saw her. (Y/N) was practically speechless too. But not like the other women who fawn over the Bridgerton name, she actually liked you for your face, for some reason. I don't know, it just seemed that there was something natural between you."

"Eloise Bridgerton, what a doting thing to say."

"I am trying to be nice to you brother."

"I know. And I appreciate it, but...I feel at ease with (Y/N), and I don't like the thought of mother's eyes burning into the back of my head. Anthony has said that he will do what he can to help, but I fear that mother will not be totally distracted by him. She’ll know his sudden interest will be fake.”

Eloise had an idea, and even if she didn’t want to go through with it, she knew it would help Benedict.“I will regret saying this, but I shall help too. I will make sure mama is paying attention to me, I’ll let her drag me around and indulge in hideously, dull conversations.”

Benedict had been shocked for the second time that day. Two of his siblings, both detesting the thought of marriage, had offered to suffer through this social event in order to give him time with (Y/N).

“What has happened to you two today?” Benedict asked.

“We are merely being charitable. Hopefully you return the favour in future. God knows I’ll be in need of saving soon.”

(Y/N) was all a flutter on the morning of the exhibition. Her mother had bought a new dress just for this, wanting to impress the Bridgerton family, prepping their halls and rooms for the exhibition for the last week. (Y/N)’s father was proud of what he had created, and that his daughter may be on her way to marrying a family who were held highly in their society. (Y/N) couldn’t focus at all, relieved that her maids were the ones in charge of getting her dressed and ready for the day; if left to her own devices, she surely would have put her dress on backwards. 

Guests streamed in, but (Y/N) was only on the lookout for one person. She remained polite, trying to stay in the moment as more and more people arrived. However, she still kept an eye out for Benedict, also staying on her toes. She had many things in mind to say to him, and she wanted to keep them in her mind. There was no way she was going to humiliate herself. 

Her heart started beating a thousand times faster when she saw Benedict enter the main hall, the one holding the biggest and most expensive pieces of art. She smiled, and somehow it grew even bigger when he made eye contact with him. His smile was so sweet, it made you fall for his charms even more. Benedict felt his stomach twist in anticipation, desperate to have just a few moments with (Y/N). Alas, that did not come when his mama latched onto his arm, steering him in (Y/N)’s direction. Although he wanted to speak with her, he found it all rather forceful, especially when (Y/N)’s parents suddenly appeared behind her.

Formal introductions were made, each set of parents making small talk about the last time they were in each others company. (Y/N) and Benedict were silent, nodding along with what was being said as they sneaked glances at each other. The conversation was dragging for them, they knew their parents wanted to figure out if this could be a potential arrangement. It didn’t seem that they were going to stop talking at any point, neither child wanting to be rude, until Eloise intruded.

“Pardon me,” she started, sending a subtle smile to Benedict,“mama, I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“Ah, another Bridgerton. The next daughter to find a suitor, I presume?” (Y/N)’s mother beamed.

Eloise hid the urge to frown. Luckily her mother stepped in.“Yes, this is Eloise. I’m sorry darling, I did not mean to leave you stranded.”

“Yes, well, shall we?” Eloise tugged at her mother’s arm.

“Alright dear. It was lovely to see you both again.” 

As Violet eagerly followed Eloise, (Y/N)’s parents also dispersed. Benedict and (Y/N) were now finally together, just as they had wished; so why did it suddenly feel awkward?

“Well, that seemed to easy.” Benedict cleared his throat.

“What was?” (Y/N) asked.

“Getting rid of them.” he grinned, holding out his arm.

(Y/N) smiled back, happy to hold onto him.“I was trying to come up with something to say that would not be rude, but would also mean we could leave. I hope that it wasn’t obvious I wanted to leave.”

“Even if it was, I doubt they would care too much. We both know they are over excited.”

“Oh how right you are. I’m assuming your mother has been acting the same as mine this whole week?”

“Overbearing? Overthinking? Over-”

(Y/N) giggled.“Yes, yes, I do not wish to dote on the memory. I am happy that you are here though Benedict.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

The pair’s arms stayed linked as (Y/N) guided Benedict around the art work. Sometimes they joined other conversations, though liked to keep to themselves. It was easy to bond over artwork, especially since it was a passion both of them had. There were no pauses or silences after a few minutes of talking, conversation flowed naturally between them. Men and women also searching for suitors were jealous; a Bridgerton boy had been swept up all too quickly and (Y/N) had been a popular choice amongst the men. However, people could not deny they made a fitting pair.

"Come, let me show you something." (Y/N) muttered to Benedict, easily slipping away from the crowds and leaving the room.

"We really shouldn't be alone (Y/N)." Benedict said, even though this was all he had been wanting.

(Y/N) had a cheeky smile on her face as she tugged on his arm, her steps gradually getting quicker. Benedict didn't even take in her elaborate house, only looking at her beautiful face every time she glanced up at him. They stopped before two grand doors, which (Y/N) cautiously opened, slipping inside with Benedict close behind her.

In the middle of the room was a huge painting covered by a fine piece of cloth. Benedict was confused why (Y/N) brought him to this, until she let go of his hand (him instantly missing the feeling), and theatrically pulled the piece of fabric down. Benedict's jaw dropped as the piece was revealed. He had never seen a painting like it.

It was a large, landscape painting of a ballroom. It captured dancing pairs in the middle of some sort of waltz, musicians huddled in the corner whilst the other guests stood watching; and it was so intricate, Benedict guessed it must have taken the artist months to complete it. All the colours, the detail, it almost looked real.

"This is amazing." he breathed out.

(Y/N) was happy when she saw Benedict's shock."Isn't it? It's supposed to be revealed later, but I wanted to see your expression properly."

"Who painted it?"

"I don't know. Father said he is going to inform everyone later, but it is a new artist. I just think they're work is dazzling to look at. I become mesmerised."

Benedict's focus changed back to (Y/N)."Yes, that does tend to happen."

She didn't notice that he was referring to her, nodding along in agreement. Her smile faltered slightly, which Benedict was able to see immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he neared her, hating the gap that was created

(Y/N) covered her slip up, as her mother had told her."I'm sorry, it's really nothing..." she started, but found herself relaxed, and wanting to tell Benedict all her problems."It's only that...I used to paint frequently, well, I sketched more, though I enjoyed both. Like all girls, my mother told me to stop that and focus on becoming the most desired lady in society. I shouldn't have even told you about that when we first met."

"That's what made me desire you (Y/N)."

She blushed, realising how intense his gaze was."Oh, Lord Bridgerton-"

"What's with all the formalities all of a sudden?"

"I-I don't know. I don't want to ruin anything and it's only our second meeting. Third if you count when you called upon me."

"And I called upon you for a very good reason."

"I was wishing that everyone else would leave, so I could spend more time with you."

Benedict loved hearing her say that."As did I."

Subconsciously they had moved closer, though they both knew what they were doing. Benedict reached down to tenderly hold her hands, causing her heart to beat erratically. (Y/N) had no idea what to do, she only had experience from the books she read. It seemed simple enough to kiss someone, but also the hardest thing in the world. How much pressure should she apply? How long should they kiss for? Where would she put her hands? Where would he put his hands? She didn't have anytime to think as he was already leaning in towards her.

Eloise and Anthony were finding it extremely hard to keep the fake smiles plastered on their faces. Benedict was really in for it once this was all over. Their mama had kept a tight grip on them both, because as soon as they saw their chance to flee, they would. Both had to suffer through extremely long, boring and repetitive conversations, listening to parents boast about their children's achievements. Everyone knew how this worked, yet they all had to pretend to be happy about it.

"Where is Benedict? He's been away for a long time." their mama pondered as they took a break for refreshments.

"He's probably wooing Lady (Y/N), just as you wanted." Eloise slurped on her drink.

"Do not fret mother, he knows what he's doing. He truly likes her and will be doing all he can to...well, yes, woo her." Anthony said.

"I suppose you are right. It feels strange that one of my children are making an effort for once."

Eloise huffed."Oh, do not chastise us mama. We've been doing this all afternoon, haven't we?"

Violet squinted her eyes at them, suspicious that they were up to something. She was about to question it, but stopped herself. They were doing what she always wanted, finding someone to spend their future with. She wouldn't jeopardise that. Lucky for them, a servant announced that Lord (Y/L/N) requested for everyone's presence inside. The guests were intrigued, following orders and grabbing full glasses of whatever quenched their thirst. Eloise and Anthony had got away with their plan for now, they just hoped Benedict and (Y/N) had had enough time together. 

[alwaysanotherrainbow]

Peonies

After Remus says something worrying at the dinner table, Roman surprises him with a gift, but the former’s not exactly sure how to handle the gesture. He’s also got to tell Roman something really important.

Characters/ships: remrom (established and romantic), Patton and Virgil mention

Warnings: this fic deals with an eating disorder. Please don’t ignore this warning. If this will upset you, please do not read. Self-deprecating talk, implied past intervention with a different character that didn’t go great

Notes: Hopeful ending. Reference isn’t really made explicit to Remus and Roman being siblings, but that is my headcanon. This is a vent-fic; it’s okay to reblog, but please tag the triggers!

________________________________________________________________

Remus gazed at the peony in his hand.

Early summer always had that association for them, when the peonies would seemingly resurrect from mulch and soil, and blossom into beautiful cloud-like flowers. The colors danced in his mind even now- the most delicate pink one could imagine, white bright enough to make the first snows look dull, and the stunning magenta ones. Those were Roman’s favorites, and those were the ones which he had given him, and they really ought to match that warmth in the air and the sound of cicadas outside, but... 

He wished Thomas would go inside, he thought with a shiver. The Mindscape had a nasty tendency to pick up on the weather outside. The peony should have brought back nostalgia, or anything other than Is it bad that I’m not more excited? and I’ve gotta apologize to him, I’m not even looking him in the eyes.

“I noticed you’re not feeling well,” the prince said apologetically. “It’s... concerning.”

“No need to feel that way! I say fucked-up stuff all the time, it’s what I do.”

“Patton didn’t mean to make you feel bad, you know. I’m not saying that you’re overreacting! It’s just that he didn’t mean it badly, he just asked if you wanted a second cookie.”

“Yeah, I know, I just wasn’t hungry-” I’m begging you, please don’t say it-

“You said, and I quote-”

“’Look at my figure, I clearly don’t need it,’ yes, I said that, made everyone uncomfortable, Patton asked if I was okay, Virgil looked like he was ready to cry. Profuse apologies all around. I know.”

“And I know that people talk that way, like, all the time,” Roman said, with a bit of levity in his voice that tried to disguise that fear that Remus could spot in an instant. “But just because people do that doesn’t mean it’s good.”

“I know, I know, I’m just morbid.”

“What if Thomas said that?”

God, even the thought was terrifying. “That’s different! It’s Thomas.”

“Right. I’d want him to feel better. I don’t know, it kind of got me thinking, I wanted to try to cheer you up, because what if you really feel that way about yourself?”

“Of course I don’t,” he said, but a wave of nausea rocked through him. He was brutal honesty for Thomas, and he was brutally honest with himself, so even the idea of lying to someone that shared his heart that much just hurt. “Well, I do. Kind of- don’t get worried.” Yeah, that’ll stop him from worrying. Great job. “But...” 

(Don’t you see I’m trying to make sure you’ll be okay?)

“...you’re not gonna like the truth. I want to tell you, honestly, I do, but...” Remus sighed.

“Would it help to tell me?”

“Yeah. But if you get hurt, then what?”

“Maybe it’ll hurt to hear, but I’ll like not being able to help you even less.”

“I mean- okay, let me try this a different way. Look at me, would you really want to be with someone like me?”

Roman gave him his hand to help him steady himself. Remus hadn’t even been aware that he was feeling a horrible vertigo descend upon him. As he gazed at his love’s hand, he saw a ring of green gold.

“I made a vow in the Chapel of the Mind-Palace because I want to be with you.”

Roman settled down next to him. He held him, not as if he’d shatter (oh, Remus would have hated that), but rather, as the steady, kind presence that the Duke committed to memory when he woke up in the morning.

“To make a long story short... I kind of have a problem. Like, a really bad one.”

“Oh?”

“I’m bulimic, Roman.”

Saying that felt like getting a mace to the ribs, but- wait. Wait, that was the first time he said it out loud. He wanted to swear at himself, the first time he told anyone that he had this problem, it had to be his soulmate and it had to be on a day where the peonies were in blossom and the crickets were chirping outside and everything was supposed to be perfect-

Taking one look at Roman’s face, a panic seized him and he tried his best to cover things up again. 

“You have bulimia?” he asked too softly.

“Honestly, it’s a long, depressing history. Virgil knows, and he tried his best to help, but it’s not something that you’d like to hear about, believe me- don’t look at me like that, love, I’m trying to save you from me here, I don’t need you to look at me like you’re gonna try and save me, too.”

“I know it’s not a question of being ‘saved’,” cried Roman, in a voice that told Remus ‘holy shit, you just told him and everything’s about to hit the goddamn fan’. “It’s a question of you feeling better, that’s all.”

“But this is all my fault-”

“Remus, it’s an illness. It’s not like it’s something that you brought down upon yourself. But I want you to feel better.”

“I know. And I feel awful for bringing it up. You don’t think of me the way that I think of me. I hate it so much and I don’t know why I can’t just eat food like a normal person, you know? Or even look at myself like a normal person would. And I mean, everyone else looks fine, they don’t need to change, it’s just when it comes to me, I look like shit, and I feel like shit and...”

Roman was silent, trying to grasp anything about what Remus was talking about, trying to understand.

“And I don’t know what to do from here, or how you’ll think of me or if you’ll say it’s my fault, or what everyone will say or what to do if I start to get better but fuck up, and I know I can’t put all of that onto you because you aren’t experts in this, but I need help and I need help and I-”

He managed to stop himself from full-on breaking down, but once he managed to catch his breath again and keep from getting dizzier, he was able to actually grasp what he had just said. He needed help. That was... right, he needed help, and he had said so himself.

“Are you okay for now?” Roman asked, gently but not condescendingly.

“For now.. I’m okay.”

“I don’t have an answer to all those questions,” said Roman sadly. “I can tell you that I don’t think of you any differently, that you’re still the wonderful person I fell in love with, that this isn’t your fault. But as for the other things... I don’t know what to do.”

“Right.” 

“But it’s one of the first things you learn when you’re a prince. If you can’t help, you’ve got to find someone who can.” Roman gazed at him. “How about the Characters?”

“The... oh, like Remy and Dad Guy-”

“And Dr. Picani. The therapist. I mean, he’s got a degree in how to help, and- ah!”

Remus had hugged him. Roman embraced him back. 

A half-hour passed by, but if he was pressed to recall it, neither of them thought that he could. Little fragments came back, like Roman sobbing into a pillow, Remus sobbing into the same pillow, an in-depth discussion about what to do if someone asked questions, and one of them remembering that they had planned to call Dr. Picani. Remus made the call, Roman held his hand, and by the time that he managed to say “3:00 on Tuesday sounds good, thank you,” he had calmed down enough to take a sip or two of some tea as Dr. Picani told him about the setup of a therapy session.

Two hours later, they were resting together in their bed, a date on a calendar marked, a letter to the other Sides written out, and the peonies in a crystal vase on their nightstand.

________________________________________________________________

Thanks for reading. I hope that everything’s going all right with you, wherever or whoever you are.

-alwaysanotherrainbow

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

You’re My Bodyguard, Not My Owner. (Chapter 30) (Brendon Urie x Reader)

“Jameson?” Aaron offered, holding up the whiskey bottle for your view. When you declined, he asked if he could get you anything else.

“No, thank you. I’m good.”

“Just say if you need anything,” he said, crossing the room to seat himself on the sofa opposite from the one you were sitting on.

“The only thing I need is your help,” you chuckled, shifting backwards into a more comfortable position.

“Of course,” he sipped from his whiskey glass before setting it down on the coffee table midway between you two and extending a hand towards you, tilting his head, “Fire away. What do you need?”

“You’re an expert on Norse mythology, yes?”

“That I am,” he confirmed.

“What can you tell me about Asgard?”

The doctor hummed as he ran a hand over his mouth. “You want the summarised version or the one with all the trimmings?”

“I want to know everything.”

His lips twitched upwards. “Very well. So, according to Asgardian legend, in the beginning there was nothing, but in time, two worlds came into being on opposite sides of the void…”

Aaron continued to recount the entire history and lore of Asgard to you, who listened with extreme attentiveness and concentration. He told you about the creation of the first Frost Giant, Ymir, and the birth of Borr, who would later on father the three brothers Odin, Vili and Vé. He spoke of how the brothers slew Ymir, and created a home for themselves, calling it Asgard. And between the two worlds of Asgard and Midgard (earth), they stretched a rainbow bridge and called it Bifröst.

He explained how Odin came to be king, after his father and youngest brother Vé, died in battled, and how he and his only remaining brother Vili, fought as Asgard’s greatest warriors. Aaron explained what happened during the battle of Jotunheim, and how Odin came to adopt his son Loki, as well as come into possession of the Tesseract. He told you about the birth of Thor, as well as the appointment of Vili as the Protector of the Tesseract.

It was at that point that you interrupted.

“Vili,” you spoke, “what was he the god of?”

“Motivation.”

“And he was also the guardian of the Tesseract.”

“That’s correct.”

“And did he…” you drew in shaky breath, nervously wringing your fingers, “have any children? A… daughter, perhaps?”

“It’s not believed so, no,” was Aaron’s reply, and you felt your stomach drop as a vile concoction of relief as well as disappointment coursed through you.

“Although,” he continued a moment later, and you straightened up, “for a time, it was believed that when Vili descended to earth in pursuit of the Tesseract and when he decided to remain here, he adopted all the aspects of a regular, human life. Some believed that part of that was marrying a human and having a child.”

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “And this child… they would be a demi-god?”

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink before frowning and snapping his fingers. “Hang on,” he stood up and crossed the room to one of his bags, “I think I might have something that could hold the answers you’re looking for. Ah,” he smiled when he found the ivory-coloured book and made his way back to the sofas, opting to sit next to you this time.

You gingerly took the book when he graciously held it out to you, setting it in your lap and running your fingers over the cover as you studied the various intricate designs and wording. You felt a twinge of déja vu; you were feeling the exact same way you had felt when you held your father’s journal. Except that this time, your hunger for answers was far more overpowering, and you opened the cover with ease.

Your eyes landed on a handwritten inscription at the top left corner of the title page, and you tilted your head to read the slanted writing.

“To the geekiest person I know,

 I found this book extremely boring and stupid, so I knew that meant you would love it.

Happy birthday, Aaron. Stay weird.

 From your older, cooler, and much better-looking cousin,

Ryan”

  Aaron leaned closer to read it too, and chuckled. “Such a prick. It was a great present, though.”

“He sounds lovely,” you joked and Aaron gave a short laugh.

“He was, actually. He teased me tremendously, for being such a nerd; he was more into guitars and leather jackets and cigarettes. Typical rockstar stuff. We got along incredibly, though, despite not seeing much of each other. He was my best friend,” Aaron explained. As he spoke, you noticed a slight tremor starting to form in his voice, and an unmistakable glint of sadness in his eyes. You knew that look all too well, but didn’t comment on it. If he wanted to talk about it, he would.

So, you simply placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly before asking what exactly you were supposed to look for in the book.

“Oh, right,” he cleared his throat and shifted closer, close enough for you to see the hint of stubble growing on his face, “Let’s see… I think it’s page, what was it? 45? 63? Ah, here it is. 57.”

Your gaze raked over the page. There wasn’t a lot of information, but what was there was definitely substantial.

“Skadi,” you read. Your skin broke out into goosebumps as flashes of your conversation with captured assassin crossed your mind. “Goddess of Winter… oh, my God.”

“She’s also the goddess of Justice, Vengeance, and Righteous Anger,” Aaron read from the page. When you didn’t respond, he looked up at you, a worrisome frown crossing his face as he took in your state.

You weren’t talking, your lips were trembling, and your skin pale, and he could see a semblance of tears forming in your eyes.

“(Y/N),” he reached out to grip your arms softly, “What’s wrong?”

Everything. Everything was wrong. The last hour had confirmed everything that The Asset had said to you, and as a result, confirmed that you had in fact been lied to for your entire life, by everyone in it.

Yes, Fury had confirmed it already, but you still held on to the tiniest bit of hope that it wasn’t true, that everything was made up. But now, there was no doubt about it.

And it wasn’t as if they were minor lies, either. They were lying about your identity. Your heritage. Who you are.

“This Skadi,” you croaked out, ignoring the doctor’s question regarding your well being, “she has powers, right?”

“That would be the case, yes.”

“And these powers…” you sighed, taking a moment to close your eyes and compose yourself. There was no more room left for crying, or feeling sorry for yourself; you needed to familiarise yourself with all of this as much as you could, as fast as you could. You turned to face the doctor, face hard. “Alright, let’s assume that all of those rumours were true, and that Vili really did start a family here on earth.”

“Okay.”

“Vili would want to protect his daughter at all costs, like any parent would. So he’d hide her powers from her. Or at least, turn them dormant.”

“Uh huh.”

“But let’s say that earth is facing a huge threat, and the only way to stop said threat, would be for Skadi to fight… how would she activate her powers?”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you sighed, slightly aggravated, “It’s all hypothetical, Aaron. Please just… indulge me.”

Still a bit unsure, Aaron slowly shook his head. “All hypothetical…right. Well, there’s not really a textbook answer to your question, (Y/N).”

“Okay, so don’t give me a textbook answer. Give me yours. You’re the expert here. What do you think?”

Aaron chuckled awkwardly, but upon seeing your stern expression, he knew that you weren’t fooling around. You were absolutely serious.

“I think…” he started, his expression turning stern too, “that Vili wouldn’t have hidden his daughter’s powers without leaving her a clue as to how to find them again. He was one of the greatest warriors the universe had ever seen; he knew how important her abilities would be – how powerful she would become – and he undoubtedly knew that one day she would have to defend. Be it this world, or any other.”

You nodded along slowly, taking in every word. “So you think he left her a clue?”

“I’d bet everything on it.”

“Huh,” you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, stretching your hands out to your knees as Aaron continued to study your motions, searching for some kind of enlightenment as to you what exactly you were thinking.

“(Y/N), based on your reaction to what we’ve been discussing…” he stalled his speech for a moment, taking the opportunity to consider how to go about his question. He wasn’t someone who was easily confused, yet this situation left him completely befuddled. “I can’t help but feel that your questions are not hypothetical. Is there… What’s going on?”

Groaning, you lifted one hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Aaron,” you muttered, “I’d love to tell you. I really would. But not even I am sure of what’s going on. All I know is that it’s very, very complicated. Besides, even if I did know, I probably wouldn’t tell you. And I mean no offense to you by that, but it’s just that there’s no one I trust right now.”

“I understand that,” he nodded, “I apologise; I didn’t mean to pry. It’s simply that you seem quite upset over this – whatever it is – and I would’ve liked to have helped you with that.”

“You have helped, believe me.”

He smiled a warm, genuine smile. “I’m glad. Know that even though you might not trust me, you can. I assure you that I am totally impartial in this situation.”

“You have to be,” you scoffed in amusement, “You have no idea what’s going on.”

“Precisely,” he beamed, eyes twinkling.

You opened your mouth to reply, but didn’t get the chance to, since the door to Aaron’s suite swung open, hitting the wall with a deafening bang. And in the doorway stood none other than…

“Brendon?” you asked in disbelief, eyes narrowing as you took in the sight before you.

Your bodyguard stood painfully straight as his cold glare settled itself on you and the doctor. His hair was messy and windswept, telling you that he must’ve arrived in a chopper. As always, his body language radiated exactly what he was feeling – anger. Lots of it.

The muscles in his jaw twitched as he fixed his eyes on Aaron, and amazingly, his gaze hardened even more.

“What,” he started, voice calm but as sharp and cold as an icicle, as he took slow, threatening steps forward, “did I say,” he flexed his fingers, “would happen if you ever touched her again?”

Aaron’s eyes got bigger and his mouth fell open as he tried to respond, but couldn’t; much like Corvey, he faltered under Brendon’s aura. It was remarkable, really, how Brendon could do that. Make even a man as charming and influential as Doctor Aaron Ross succumb under his gaze.

“Brendon,” you spoke, trying to avert the attention from the man sitting next to you.

“Did you forget?” Brendon pressed, ignoring you as he continued to advance on Aaron, “’Cause I’d be more than happy to refresh your memory.”

“Brendon!” you raised your voice and stood up this time, blocking the doctor from your bodyguard’s view. “Stop it.”

Upon making eye contact with you for the first time in a couple days, the usual layer of ice in his eyes was replaced with a raging fire.

“You. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You frowned, scoffing at the question. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Yes! Do you have any idea the amount of panic and disruption you’ve caused? Fuck, (Y/N). Fury has been worried out of his mind, and I…” he broke his gaze, looking to the side and shaking his head before turning back to you, “I’ve been looking all over for you. I haven’t slept in two days because I’ve been hopping around the entire fucking country trying to find you.”

“Hopping? You should try flying,” you sassed, cocking one brow, “It’s way faster.”

“Fuck, (Y/N)!” he barked, anger building, “This isn’t a fucking joke! I thought you were dead, damn it!”

“So what? What would it matter if I were dead? In fact, it would only benefit you – you wouldn’t have to babysit me anymore. You don’t care about me. You never did. That was proven a long time ago. So don’t try and make me feel guilty when I know that you don’t even really give a shit.”

Next thing you knew, Brendon had pulled you to him, one hand holding your left arm in an iron grip, and the other cupping the right side of your face. You could feel him against you; his breathing was dangerously ragged.

“I…” he started, eyes boring into yours. He drew in a sharp breath. “I’m here now. I found you, and I’m not leaving without you.”

“I…” it was your turn to falter and inhale deeply. You closed your eyes and shook your head lightly as you shoved him away. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

His jaw clenched. “Yes, you are.”

“She said she’s not going with you,” Aaron found his courage, steeling his gaze and rising from his seat to move beside you. “I think you should leave.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Brendon chuckled bitterly, taking a step back as he looked between you and the Brit. “(Y/N), you can’t actually be serious.” He looked at you hopelessly. “You’re gonna chose to stay with him rather than come with me? You know nothing about him! He can’t be trusted!”

“Neither can you,” you retorted. “In fact, Aaron has been more truthful to me in two hours than you have been in almost a year.”

“Oh come on!” he groaned, accentuating every word, “I was fucking protecting you!”

“Well maybe I don’t need you to protect me!” you yelled back, “Did you ever think about that?”

There was the sound of glass shattering, and a small gas cylinder rolled onto the carpet next to you, releasing an invisible gas.

The last thing you heard before blacking out was Brendon calling out your name.

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

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