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justrandomfanfictionskh · 2 years ago

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Mary Todd pt 2

Present Day...

Marinette took a deep calming breath and smiled. It was over. It was finally over! One month ago today, Ladybug and Chat Noir had discovered Hawkmoth's secret lair. The battle was hard for more than one reason, and not one of them left without some sort of new scar. But after three hours of fighting with fists, words, and magic, they had done it. The final Miraculous Cure had swept over Paris and everything was put to rights, just like in the story. Marinette sighed as she drifted into more sobering thoughts.

"What's wrong Marinette?" Tikki said as she flew up to look at the girl in the mirror.

"Nothing Tikki," Marinette said as she continued to apply her makeup. "Just thinking about...everything."

Tikki hummed as she came to sit on the counter. "What's everything?"

Marinette chuckled, but said, "Oh you know, Chat, Adrien, Hawkmoth, Paris, family, Justice League..."

"But those things should make you happy!" The small goddess exclaimed.

"They do," Marinette with a smile, "But they also make me confused." Tikki hummed and waited for her chosen to continue. "I guess..." she finally said, "I just thought that once we defeated Hawkmoth, everything would be simple. Finished. I would find the love of my life and we'd live happily ever after with five hamsters or something."

"Is that not what you want now?"

"Yes. No. Yes and no. I don't...Tikki...things were supposed to get simple. But something in me...something in the pit of my stomach is telling me that once I get on that stage, things are only going to get more complicated. And I don't..."

"Don't what, Marinette?"

"I don't even know who my brother is," Marinette said the words in barely a whisper, and with them came the crashing wave of guilt and shame that threatened to drown her ever since Marinette had gone over to Alya's under the guise of a sleep over. What they were really doing was having a Miraculous meeting in an attempt to discover who Hawkmoth was. Right in between the investigation and the ice cream, Max had suddenly declared, "Oh my gosh! Marinette, why didn't you tell us you were adopted!" Marinette had frozen as memories of darkness, cold, and pain rushed over her culminating in a single image of soft blue eyes and a kind voice, and a name, a nickname, Jay-Jay. The rest of that night was spent making sure Marinette didn't get akumatized, as the weight of guilt and shame spiraled her anxiety into a crescendo of noise and tears. How had she forgotten her brother? It was enough to make her snap as the weight of everything that was happening in her life crashed into her like a tidal wave. Max had had to teleport them out of Paris before she could calm down, and explain herself.

Her friends had changed after that. They started taking on more Miraculous responsibilities, and school responsibilities. Luka got a job at the bakery so she wouldn't have to fill in for her parents. Alya took all of the minor class president duties on herself. Adrien eased off on the flirting. And Lie-la wasn't allowed within five feet of her, if any of them could help it. Marinette was grateful. With the pressures of Ladybug and everyday life eased a bit, she was able to focus a little more clearly. In the six months that her friends had stepped up, Marinette was able to get twice as much done as she had before. But that didn't stop that niggling worm of guilt that whispered at her pure audacity. She had forgetten her brother. But Hawkmoth had still been active, so Marinette had pushed it aside and focused.

But now...

"Marinette," Tikki said wiping the single tear from her chosen's face. "It's ok. I'm sure your brother will understand. Besides, it's not like you completely forgot him. You remember somethings right?"

Marinette nodded and at Tikki's insistence, she told her everything she could remember about her life before. "Our home was always cold. But Jay-Jay always made sure I was warm. He gave me a pink jacket. There was always a lot of noise, but Jay-Jay would block it out with stories. He told the best stories. I don't remember all of them, but they were always about the Knitting Fairy. The Knitting Fairy would help everyone, and fix everything---"

"That sounds familiar," Tikki giggled.

Marinette smiled and kept taking, "He had bright blue eyes, and a kind voice. And he always made me feel safe." Marinette wiped another tear as she stopped talking. That was it. That was all she could remember. Dark, cold nights of memories had been replaced by the warm, sunny days of Paris. Harsh voices and indistinct words were traded for the soft, clear words of her parents. And Marinette was happy that they had. Except, it meant that she had left her brother behind. It meant that she had abandoned him. And Marinette didn't know if she could ever forgive herself for that.

Tikki nuzzled into Marinette's cheek, and soon Marinette was swarmed by the soft, warm, and tiny arms of all of the kwami in her possession. She laughed dryly as she let them comfort her. And when they were done, Marinette did feel better. So she cleared her throat, stood up straight, drew on her Ladybug confidence and said, "Alright. New mission, tomorrow we start looking for my brother. But tonight! We party!"

The kwami cheered and soon every last one of them was buzzing around her room in a way that was far from helpful, as they tried to help. Marinette laughed at them and closed her eyes. Tonight was a celebration. She could be happy tonight. She didn't have to worry about tonight. It was going to be ok.

. . .

Marinette stepped out of the limo to the overwhelming sounds and lights of cameras and reporters. She did her best to smile and wave, as she moved down the red carpet, but she was far from being comfortable. Jagged Stone had her arm, and he was a grounding presence as she fought to stay calm. She dreaded the moment when he would give into the public and stop to answer every single question, but as it turned out she didn't need to worry. Jagged moved at her pace, and only stopped once to answer only one question of a single reporter.

"Jagged who designed your suit?"

"The one and only MDC of course! My honorary niece, Marinette!" The next thing Marinette knew, she was standing by herself as Jagged, Luka,andJuleka recreated the Will Smith meme with her front and center. Marinette was certain, her face was the color of a tomato as the cameras increased. But Luka quickly saved her by straightening his own suit and taking her arm.

"What was that?" Marinette said through gritted teeth.

"What?" Luka said with a mischievous smile, "It's your first red carpet. Did you really think we weren't going to show you off?" Marinette shook her head as they passed through the pavilion wall.

The city had blocked off the entire area around and under the Eifel Tower for the grand gala that was meant to celebrate Paris's heroes and their victory. Shielding the exclusive party from the press with giant white pavilions, the park had become a world of its own. And what a world it was. String lights lit the party like Christmas Time. Violins and cellos filled the area with the contrasting harmony of a piano. And the cheerful and excited murmur of a guests dancing on a polished wooden floor and mingling on the freshly cut grass, filled the space with warmth and cheer. The women looked like queens and princesses, and the men looked like kings and princes as they glided through the park. Marinette was so captivated by the elegance and grandiose of it all, that she almost didn't see the pièce de résistance, the Eiffel Tower. Luka gently tapped her arm and pointed. She gasped. The tower shone a brilliant Ladybug red as black spots danced across the metal sides. Marinette felt the tears forming in her eyes as she laughed.

But before she could say anything she was caught up in a hug that almost crushed her lungs. She laughed as she saw a mass of blonde hair. "You deserve this," Adrien whispered. "You deserve all of this!"

"So do you, Chaton," Marinette whispered back. "So do you."

Adrien pulled back and looked at her. The weight of the last month had settled heavily in his once bright green eyes. The shock of discovering the truth about his father and Natalie had broken him in a way, that Marinette was not sure would ever heal. Marinette herself had no idea how to help her friend as she was drowning in her own issues, but thankfully neither of them were in this alone. Luka kissed his boyfriend playfully, as Marinette turned to Alya and Nino, who were pushing through the crowds, shouting about the tower and how wonderful it was. Kagami was walking elegantly behind them with Chloe and Zoe. Marinette still wasn't exactly sure how the two sisters had managed to get on the same page, but Marinette had decided to not look a gift horse in the mouth. Drifting back to her thoughts from earlier Marinette decided that her original dream for a world without Hawkmoth, was not to far off.

Life had become simpler. Luka and Adrien were dating and trying to convince her to date both of them, thus removing one source of her anxiety. Chloe was using her impressive powers of persuasion for good. Nino and Alya were talking about rings. Lila was gone. Zoe had just gotten accepted to an acting school in America. Juleka was being scouted by a modeling agents. Lila was gone. A publisher had just called Marc and Nathaniel about their comic. Max was getting internship offers right and left. Lila was gone. They had all managed to graduate, despite the unending akuma attacks. MDC was overflowing with so many commissions, that she had a waiting list three years long! And did she mention that Lie-la was gone!

As Marinette watched and listened to her friends chatter and laugh, she smiled and hugged Tikki through her bag. Everyone was getting their happily ever after. Everyone, except her. She tried to shake the self-deprecating thought away, which ended with her drifting into a state of happy complaisance. She refused to feel sad and guilty tonight. Not when everyone else was happy, and with the future looking so bright. Not with the damn city projectinghercolors of the fucking Eiffel Tower of all things! So she smiled and wandered over to the bar. Maybe a glass of wine would lift her spirits to the boisterous exuberance everyone else seemed to be feeling.Or maybe something stronger, she thought idly.

There were already two tall men already there, but only one turned to look at her as she approached.Cute, she thought noticing how his red hair contrasted well with his black suitBut why is he so tall. She smiled but didn't give him or his friend much thought as she ordered her drink.

"Aren't you a little young to drink?" the man with red hair said in broken French.

Marinette blinked at him. He was smiling in a way that she supposed was meant to be flirty, and she guessed it could work on her if she let. But she decided to mess with him instead, and so said in perfect English, "Not in France. But if you think I'm too young then why are you ogling my dress?"

His friend snorted, and the red-head flushed with a cough. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry. I was trying to be clever. I just...can I get a do over?"

He waited for Marinette to respond which she appreciated as the bartender paced her drink. Marinette considered it before thinking, "What the hell, its not like I'm ever going to see him again," and nodded. The red-head beamed and holding out his hand said, "I'm Roy Harper, 20 years old, and my favorite color is red, which is why I was staring at your dress. It's very beautiful. Please don't think I a douche."

Marinette smiled and taking his hand said, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, 18---"

His friend began choking on his drink, and they both turned to face him concerned, with Roy exclaiming "Woah, Jay you ok?"

His friend nodded and muttered, "Sorry, wrong pipe." He then straightened and faced Marinette. He was almost as tall as her Papa, but not nearly as broad. Although he was still the size of a barn door. His black hair was slicked back and for some reason he had a white streak in the middle of it, like a skunk. But what caught Marinette's attention were his eyes. They were blue, tinged green around the edges, with a vibrancy that almost seemed unnatural. And through Tikki, Marinette felt a strange aura around him that was both familiar and foreign, comforting and terrifying. And those strange eyes were staring at her with absolute terror.

After an awkward moment, Roy cleared his throat and cautiously said, "So anyway, it's nice to meet you Marinette. This is my business partner and best friend, Jason Todd."

(a/n I have no idea how consistent I will be updating this. But I'm also posting on ao3 under the same name. Let me know if you want me to tag you!!)

@laurcad123 @craftgremlin

#maribat #marinette dupen chang #marinettexroy #batfam #jason todd #miraculous ladybug #mlb x dc #dc x mlb

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m5ria · 2 years ago

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Chapter 5: The Wild One

Warnings: blood

I tighten the hold on his wrist, fantasizing about cutting it with my bare hand. The son of a bitch tried to sneak behind me and scare me. To dominate. But no, how wrong he was.

He doesn’t even flinch under the pressure. His smile only grows when a buzz becomes more audible. A defective sound.

“Haha! Such filthy words from the mouth of such a fine lady!” he snickers. I recognize that voice. The voice that seems to come through a channel from somewhere far away.

“Such filthy manners from... whatever the hell you are!” I snarl back.

He simply shrugs before evaporating. My hand clenches itself, my claws digging into my palm. Blood comes to the surface.

I turn around to see the smiley demon standing perfectly straight like a statue. This time, I get to see him all. He’s all red. His hair, his ears, his coat, his eyes. The color of Hell. The color of blood.

He snaps his fingers and a staff materializes in his hand. It looks like a microphone with a big eye on it. It is fixed on me.

“Charlie, sweetheart, who’s our newest, most welcomed guest right here?”

“Alastor, this is Diana. She’s going to be staying at the hotel for a while.”

I would have smiled at the third attempt of Charlie to introduce me if it wasn’t for her tone. I glance at her to see worry on her face. She looks at me weirdly, as if I’ve just shown her I can fly to Heaven.

Looking at all of them, I see that only this Alastor guy is cheery. Angel and Vaggie stare at me somewhat between awe and tension. I peek at the dude at the bar, but he looks totally focused on his drinking.

“Ah! Diana,” Alastor somehow tests my name. I wonder if I should have used a fake one after all. “The goddess of moon and hunt. So fitting for your appearance!”

His eyes dance. I try to hide how much distaste I feel. He, as far as I know, is the only one here who knows who was the first bearer of my name. It’s Roman mythology. It should be common knowledge. Regardless, the way he said it makes me feel invaded as if he can read my past life. Know why I am a Diana and not a Thalia, or a Lily, or a Tiana.

“I suppose Hell has its humor,” I shrug.

“Hunt?” Vaggie asks out of the blue.

We all turn to her confused. She looks at me with sudden realization, which baffles me further.

“You’re the wild one,” she speaks out.

I look at the others for clarification, but nobody seems to understand.

“You’ll have to be more explicit,” I declare. “We all are wild here.”

“No,” she breathes out irked. “You’re the Wild One. The demon that nobody knows of, that turns up with dead animals.”

I look at her with different eyes. I didn’t know I gathered a reputation. The Wild One… What a pathetic way of a nickname. And I didn’t know this girl would know about me. I’ve never seen her in my life.

“Ok, Vaggie,” Angel cuts in, clearly bored. “Enough with the know-them-all act.”

She visibly stiffens of madness. She has a quick temper, that’s for sure.

At least, she lost the focus on me. She mumbles between her breath words in an unknown language, her healthy eye sending daggers towards Angel. Still, I don’t think anyone is in any real danger.

That’s not how Charlie thought though, as she goes to Vaggie and puts her hands on her shoulders in a reassuring gesture. I’d guess they’re the closest thing to a friendship here.

“Hohoho, I think Diana here deserves a better welcome than this!” Alastor declares. A round of laughter from his mic accompanies him. I already smell a lot of bullshit, but I keep my face straight.

“Right!” Charlie comes back to us. “I’m so sorry, Diana! Here!”

She makes a black key appear from thin air in front of me. The eye on it blinks at me sweetly.

“Here’s your key to the room. It’s on the top floor, but if you wish to change that, just tell me. And, as for your T-shirt, you can borrow one of mine anytime you want. Just ask me!”

“No, thank you!” I refuse politely. “I’d prefer to buy some clothes now. Explore the surroundings. Getting used to them.”

I give her a reassuring smile. The truth is that I can’t tell them how stupid I lost my few belongings, but I can’t hide the lack of them.

Plus, I need time to ponder on what happened. My new ability; the darkness that surrounded me; the world in shadows. What does it mean? How can I control it? How can I use it?

I glance at Alastor as if he can be a clue as to why I’ve just discovered something new. He’s, however, smiling (no teeth revealed) at Charlie. As if he sympathies with her.

“Alright then,” Charlie smiles at me optimistically. Then, she turns to Angel Dust: “Hey, Angel! Weren’t you going to work right now?”

“I wasn’t,” his eyes are trained on his hellphone. “I still got two hours.”

“Great! Can you show Diana around?”

I half expected a spoiled teenage refusal from him, but he glances at me with sudden energy.

“Sure, Charlie!”

He runs to me and grabs my right bloody hand. My whole body pulled from his grip, but the decisive factor was the slippery blood that let my wrist free. He turns to me only to find his and my hand red.

“Angel!” Charlie shouts, frightened. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, I swear!” he gets defensive. His upper two hands raise in peace while the lower hands try to clean off the blood.

“It’s nothing, Charlie,” I smile, delighted at Angel’s apprehensiveness or disgust. “See?”

With my other hand, I brush the blood from my palm where four marks looking like triangles are the only clue of a bruise.

“It’s healed,” I state.

I peek at Alastor for a second and, as I suspected, there’s a smug grin on his face. I feel a surge of hatred, an impulse of scratching that face and that corrupted smirk. But I am better than that.

“Why so much blood, tho?” Angel asks disgustedly. He managed to grab a napkin. Now, he’s cleaning himself.

I walk to him and offer my other arm like a gentleman. I can play the gentleman. I can play whatever I have to, now that I’ll have to share this space with them. It won’t take too much, too long.

“I’m sorry about that, dear,” I slightly bow. “Shall we?”

For a second, he looks at me perplexed as if I’m a Rubik's cube. Then, he simply shrugs and takes my arm. I am prepared for the occasional touches of skin-to-skin. In fact, I can ignore them. It bothers me when someone touches me without letting me know. Not when I initiated. Not when I agreed.

I turn to look at Alastor. His face would be one of a delighted fellow. But I notice his eyes burning with a deep interest. He’s not what he seems. I’ll have to be careful about him.

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laughing-with-god · 3 years ago

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The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note: So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next. The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life. Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ. Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol. This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments. Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads once again for creating the cover art for this fic. They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic. They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar. They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while. I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.

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phantoms-lair · 3 years ago

Note

Existing AU: Tempo Trio

"Lewis can we talk?"

Inwardly Lewis felt himself shrivel up. He had never felt so awkward in his life. But he didn't feel he could deny Arthur anything he asked. Not now.

"I'm gonna make some educated guess between what the faker said and what you told be as Ghost, back when you didn't know I was Spiderman and...Faker tried to kill you. And you thought it was me?"

"He didn't try." Lewis said softly. "He did kill me. He smashed my head open on a statue, which turned out to be an idol of the Goddess Nemesis. She gave me a chance for Retribution, since it's kind of her thing. I should have known you'd never-"

"It was my face, Lew. My voice. Hell, my bloody DNA. How could you have thought otherwise. But why didn't you go to the police?"

Something unknotted in his gut at the familiar nickname. "I didn't think anyone would believe me." He admitted. "I mean, my skull wasn't even cracked open anymore."

"So you tried to deal with me yourself." The tone wasn't judgemental, just empty.

Lewis's face turned red and he buried it in his hands. He want to scream, sob, beg for Arthur's forgiveness.

"Lewis I..." Arthur seemed to struggle for words. "You helped."

"I did the opposite of help."

"I know you weren't trying to but, look, since I became Spiderman, things have been...not great. Uncle Lance might never wake up again. I'm making up this superhero thing as I go along, not to mention school. And I've been doing it alone." His voice cracked at the last word.

As if Lewis needed to feel any worse for the last two months. Arthur had been struggling and suffering and he's done nothing but try to hurt him.

"You've been trying to use your spell on me, right? The retribution one?"

"It doesn't work on you." Lewis mumbled.

"It does. Lewis the spell is retribution, not revenge. It's...Lewis now that I know I can pinpoint every time you used that spell on me. Because they were the only times I felt like things were going to be okay."

"What?"

"Pain for pain dealt, that's what you told me, right? I think it also goes the other way. Hope for hope given? And it's still helping because it means I am giving hope. That I'm not just screwing up and making things worse."

"Arthur you are not a screw up." Lewis pulled him into a hug. "When I was at my worst, my most angriest, you as Spiderman was what kept me grounded. You were someone who was so good. Who did so much even when it cost you. I would have become a lot worse without you. And if that spell gives you hope, or makes you feel better I will cast it whenever you want."

"Mystery might take umbrage with that."

"He's not my real dad." Lewis declared, relieved to hear Arthur's laughter in response.

And above them, the squirrel spying on them was relieved to hear it too.

#Ghost Writing #Tempo Trio #Marvel #MSA

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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years ago

Text

keep you warm and safe

summary // bonus part to my arms will hold you; bucky and his wife as she goes through the twelve hours of labor. stories, pain, games, jello and lots of love. [established bucky barnes x fem! reader]

words // 3.2k

warnings // depiction of labor, epidural usage, hospital birth & excessive use of nickname pretty girl

notes // eeeeeeeeeek i was so excited for this request! i love bucky + the mrs + this dynamic so much. note this is written in a similar style as the first piece; snippets of each hour.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Hour One

Bucky doesn’t know what to do to help you, that much is obvious to you. It might even make you laugh, if it hadn’t been for the pain that was coming and going. Dr. O had apologetically explained that you were only six centimeters dilated and would have to wait until you were at ten, which you knew, but it still sucked to hear.

You groan, a mixture of pain and annoyance, as Bucky looks at your doctor sadly. “How long will that take?” He asks curiously.

She shrugs before pulling up your chart on the tablet at the end of your bed. “It really depends. It could be anywhere from an hour to more than twelve. Every woman goes through the stages of labor differently.”

Bucky’s hand is still rubbing your stomach gently as he continues to ask questions. “But her water broke. Her contractions are only a few minutes apart. How can it take another, like, ten hours?”

Your hand grips him tightly. “Buck, it doesn’t matter.” You say in a tired voice.

He turns to you a little apologetically. “Sorry, I’m just curious.” He admits sheepishly. Dr. O takes her leave with a kind smile and a gentle pat on your shin. Bucky looks down at you again. “Dads didn’t really go in the room with their wives when I was younger. My dad and I sat out in the waiting room when Becca was born.”

You look at him with curious eyes. “Really? Your mom was all alone?”

“I think my grandma was with her for a while, but yeah, pretty much.” He shrugs. “We were let in after Rebecca was cleaned and wrapped up. It’s nice being able to be with you. I just want to help.”

Your heart swells at his admission. “That’s so sweet, Bucky.” You whisper resting your head against his shoulder. “Tell me about that day.” You demand quietly, hoping a story would help distract you.

“I don’t really remember much of it.” Bucky starts. “But I remember my dad and I sitting in the waiting room and you know, we lived in such a gloomy time. Before the depression we weren’t too well off, so I know my parents were a little stressed about having two of us hooligans.” He laughs gently and you smile. You feel yourself relax at his voice and although there’s still pain, you’re not struggling to breathe anymore. “But when my dad saw Becca and the nurse let him hold her I saw it all go away. My mom let me crawl into the bed with her. Nothing like this one, mind you. It was smaller and way less comfortable, but she still wrapped her arm around me and kissed my head and my dad introduced me to Becca.” He hastily wipes a tear away. “It’s one of the few good memories I have of back then.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” You say, a little guilty. You hadn’t meant to make him sad by bringing up his family. “I wish they could meet me and our babies.”

Bucky smiles down at you then presses a kiss to your cheek. “Me too, but I know they’re proud of me. I know they would’ve loved you. That’s all I need.”

You groan as another contraction hits and Bucky sits up a little straighter, his hand immediately rubbing up and down your back. “You’re so strong. I love you so much.” He murmurs as you breathe deeply.

“I’m so proud of you.” You say a moment later when the sharp pain has passed and you have a second to breathe.

Bucky snorts and looks you over with his eyes. “Not prouder than I am of you. Nothing I’ve done in this lifetime can compare to what you’re doing right now.”

And - well - a small part of you wants to argue that Bucky saved lives daily, but the rest of you agreed. Bucky would never do this and his support and pure adoration made it a little easier.

Hour Three

“I’m hungry.” You complain. Dr. O had left a little over twenty minutes ago after declaring you were still only dilated six centimeters, which felt impossible but who were you to argue with her? “What can I eat?”

Bucky’s begun pulling out some of the stuff you had packed in the go bag and organizing it in the small hospital dresser.

“The nurse said I can get you ice chips or jello, but that’s really it.” He answers apologetically. You sigh mournfully. All you really wanted was something to fill you up. “Want me to grab some?”

“Jello, please.” You shrug. “Are you sure I can’t eat anything? I want, like, mashed potatoes.” You tap your fingers against your stomach as you adjust your pillow behind you with one arm.

Bucky laughs as he comes over to you. “I’m sure, pretty girl.” His hand cups your cheek gently and you look up at him with a pout. “I’ll bring you some jello.”

“Thank you.” You smile up at him. Dr. O enters as he leaves and he pauses. “Go! I’ll be fine.” You wave him away as she comes to your bedside. He waits for a moment before finally stepping out of the room. You look at Dr. O with a tired smile. “Checking me again?” You ask.”

“I will in a little while. I came to talk to you about an epidural. You’ve already been in labor for a few hours and it looks like you’ll be one of the women who is in labor for a tough amount of time.” She explains gently. “It’s completely up to you. You have some time to think.”

You nod. Your contractions still hurt and they took the wind out of you when they came every few minutes, so it didn’t feel like the worst idea. “Come back in half an hour? Can I have some time to think?”

“Of course!” She nods. “Take your time. Remember nobody is here to judge you, it’s your body and your choice entirely.”

You smile. “Thank you.” You relax against your pillow as you wait for Bucky to return with your jello. You think of Dr. O’s advice torn between having a natural birth and the gruelling pain it could leave you in for hours.

“I come bearing jello.” Bucky pushes the door open softly and smiles at you with two cups of jello in his hand. You frown at their small size and Bucky chuckles. “I know they’re small, that's why I brought you two.”

You smile gratefully when he peels one open and hands it to you along with a small spoon. You moan at the taste of it and the feeling of being able to eat something even though it’s something small like jello.

“Dr. O asked if I wanted an epidural.” You murmur in between bites. Bucky nods. “What will that do?” He asks curiously.

You take a deep breath as pain shoots through you. “Help with these contractions in case labor goes on for hours. I don’t know some women just go entirely natural, I’m torn.”

“Well is it unsafe?” He asks before handing you the second cup. You shake your head. “There are risks to every medical procedure. It’s not like, bad for the babies but it can have some risky side effects.” You explain.

Bucky looks at you with intent, like he doesn’t want to miss a word that comes out of your mouth. “You know it’s up to you. Nobody else's opinion should matter, it’s not their body.”

You take a deep breath. “I know… I just don’t want people to think I’m like, not woman enough or-“

“Stop.” Bucky cuts you off harshly. You look at him with wide eyes. “Pretty girl, nobody can tell you anything about your choices. Got that?” He tilts his head so you’re forced to look him in the eyes.

You’ve always loved Bucky’s eyes. His emotions reflected in the blue that held your own stare until you nod slowly.

He smiles then flexes his vibranium arm. “And if they do, they can deal with me.”

Hour Five

“Call them back!” You laugh as you sit up in bed. The pain has lessened considerably after the epidural at hour four, when you had only been dilated around seven centimeters. “I’m fine, Buck!”

Bucky looks hesitant as he pulls the phone out. “Are you sure, pretty girl? If you’re tired you can take a nap or-“

“Bucky.” You whine a little. “I want to talk to my friend! Call Sam back!” He sighs as he pulls out his phone and sets it up on your little tray for food.

It rings for a few moments before Sam’s face appears on the screen with a wide smile. “My favorite people!” He cheers when he sees you two both in frame. “Man, has anybody told you how beautiful you look right now?” He says sweetly.

You roll your eyes. “Only every hour. Bucky won’t stop saying it.” You nudge his side playfully. “I look like a disaster, but I appreciate it.”

Sam and Bucky both shake their heads. “Not true at all. You look like a goddess.” Bucky says sternly. You giggle as Sam snorts.

“How far along are you?” He asks. You shrug. “About three more centimeters to go, but the doctor said it could take awhile.”

“Should Steve and I come camp out in the waiting room?” He smirks. “I’m about to buy out the whole gift store.”

You laugh. “Not necessary! Bucky will text you when we get closer if you want to come down.”

Sam rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Of course we do. Life gets so boring here at the compound. Steve!” He yells out. You and Bucky flinch at the drastic change in tone. “Steve! Come here!” He looks back at the camera. “He came to help with training today, that worked out great, didn’t it? We can carpool.”

You both nod as Steve forces his face into the camera view. You and Bucky smile brightly at him and wave. “Hey! You guys look great! I can’t believe you’re gonna have two babies soon.”

“I can!” You shake your head. “Almost nine months of these babies inside of me, I can’t wait to have them in my arms. I want to drink coffee again and have wine!”

The three men laugh and Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead. There’s a knock at your door and you two look up to see one of the nurses quietly coming in. “We’ve gotta go! Bucky will text you when you can come down.” You wave goodbye before Bucky grabs his phone and sits up.

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “I wanted to come in and say hi, there’s a shift change right now so you'll be seeing me for the next twelve hours.”

You frown. “Is Dr. O still here?”

She nods. “Dr. O is on call for you! We’ll be doing regular checks and then we’ll call her back when we believe it’s time to start.” You nod gratefully as she moves towards your bed.

Hour Seven

“D1?” You look behind Bucky’s shoulder quickly before back down at your small model ocean. He lets out a defeated sigh and nods.

“Hit.” You smile victoriously as you place the red pin on your screen. You had sunk his carrier, cruiser and submarine. There were only two left. “A11?” He guesses.

You shake your head. “Miss.” He places yet another white pin on his screen. “E1?”

Bucky looks up at you suspiciously. “How are you so good at this?”

“I just know you, my love.” You smile a little too big and Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“You’re lying.” He looks your face over. “How are you cheating? Can you see over here?”

You let out an offended gasp. “I would never cheat!” Your tone is a little over dramatic, so you’re not really selling it, but it makes both of you dissolve into laughter.

Bucky turns around and catches the reflection of his board in the wall mounted television. He nods in an impressed manner before turning back to look at you. “Nice. I’ll let slide because you’re about to push out our children but any other time…” He trails off wagging a finger at you.

You laugh softly as he begins to pack away the game. “I love you, Buck.” You say sweetly.

He smiles at you. “I love you too, pretty girl.”

Hour Nine

“You’re at eight!” The nurse cheers. “Two more, mama! We’re so close!” You look over at her with a tired smile. You had been in and out of sleep since Bucky had packed away the Battleship game.

Bucky runs his fingers up and down your arm. His fingertips offer some cooling comfort, but you’re exhausted. Nine hours of sitting in the room, getting hourly checks and not being able to move around besides small walks has taken a toll.

“What do you need from me, pretty girl?” Bucky murmurs.

You shrug. “I want this to be over with. I want to have them in our arms. Why is it taking so long?” You mumble in a trembling voice. You hadn’t realized how emotionally exhausted you were too.

Bucky sighs sadly as he stares down at you. “I’m not sure, pretty girl. The doctor said every woman goes through labor differently.”

“That does nothing to help me.” You snap at him. Bucky’s eyes widen and you squeeze your eyes shut willing the tears gathering in them to go away.

You feel Bucky rub his hand up and down your arm. “You’re okay.” He whispers. “You can cry, pretty girl. Nobody is gonna judge you.” He says quietly, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

You open your eyes to look at him apologetically. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, but he shakes his head.

“Nothing you say or do while going through this is going to offend me.” He explains gently. “If you wanna yell at me, yell at me. Just let me help.”

You laugh wetly. “I’m not gonna emotionally abuse you.” You rest your hand over his on your cheek. “I just need you here to listen to me complain and say I know it sucks.”

“That’s it?” He chuckles and you shrug. “And maybe get back in bed with me for a couple minutes.” He smiles and you scoot over a little bit.

Bucky presses himself to your side and wraps a careful arm around you. You take a deep breath and rest your head against his shoulder. You don’t even notice the tears until Bucky begins to wipe them silently off your cheeks while pressing kisses to your forehead.

“You got this, pretty girl. Just a little while longer.”

You nod. “Get more jello for me, please?” You ask quietly. Bucky laughs, but moves to stand up. “The cherry flavor this time!” You call out as he opens the door, his laughter echoes in the hall and it makes you smile.

Hour Ten

“Nine! You’re doing so well! Your babies are almost here.” You smile brightly at the words and turn your head to look at Bucky.

“You know you can sleep a little? You’ve been awake this entire time.” You urge. Bucky had been with you every minute you were awake. He ate when you were asleep so you wouldn’t be jealous of the food. Finished unpacking your go bag and talking to nurses, you couldn’t imagine that he had found the time to rest. “I don’t want you passing out when you see what happens when I push these kids out.”

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. “I promise you I’ve seen worse.” He pulls one of the chairs up to sit beside you. Squeezing both of you on there had just become too hot and uncomfortable for you. “Besides, I slept for a little while you napped.”

“For how long?” You cross your arms over your stomach.

Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Like twenty minutes? I’m fine, pretty girl. I used to go days without more than an hour of sleep. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s why I worry about you.” Your hand finds his resting beside you on the bed. “I know you’ll play it off until you pass out from exhaustion.”

Bucky smiles like he’s surprised by your love for him. Maybe he still is, even after all this time together. You smile back. “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, pretty girl. Not the other way around.” He teases.

You shake your head. “I think we’ve always been good at comforting each other. Doesn’t matter when.” Bucky smiles brightly at you with a nod.

“You’re always right.” He murmurs. “What would I do without you?” You open your mouth to respond. “Don’t answer. I don’t even like thinking about it.”

Hour Eleven

“God. Fuck.” You groan. The pressure you feel mixed with the dulled contractions was awful. “Can I push? Please?” You look down at Dr. O.

Your room has been set up with incubators, medical tools and you felt exposed to the group in front of you. She nods. “When you start, we’re gonna count to eight, okay? Then a rest period.” She looks between you and Bucky.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to your forehead before wrapping one of your hands between both of his. “Ready, mama?” You nod hastily as Dr. O begins to count out loud.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You squeeze your eyes shut and focus on her counting only letting out a breath when she says stop. “You look amazing right now.” Bucky whispers and you scoff.

“Just need you to breathe with her, Mr. Barnes.” Dr. O urges gently and he nods, breathing in with you before breathing out.

The routine breathing helps relax you for your small rest break before Dr. O begins counting again for another push. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl.”

Bucky’s got his left hand interlocked with yours. “Breathe.” Dr. O lets out. “You’re so close.” She cheers you on.

“I can’t do this. I can’t.” You shake your head with teary eyes. After hours and hours of restlessness, you’re exhausted. You can’t help but feel this will take you out. You can hear your heart monitor spike a little. Bucky’s eyes frantically look around the room which does little to quell your worry. “Bucky.” You cry.

“We need to push, Mrs. Barnes.” Dr. O urges. You shake your head but stop when Bucky’s hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him.

“You can do this.” His voice is stern. “You know you can. What did I say? This isn’t gonna be what takes you out, pretty girl.” You sniffle as you watch him talk. “You gotta push for me, okay?”

You take in a deep, shuddering breath before nodding. “Okay.” You say quietly before turning your attention back to Dr. O. “Okay.”

Hour Twelve

“A boy and a girl.” You murmur tiredly as Bucky pushes back stray hairs and wipes the sweat off your forehead. “Our babies.”

“Our babies.” He agrees a little wetly. “You did amazing, pretty girl. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Did you call the boys?” You ask. You can hear the cries echo in the room as nurses perform necessary checks. Bucky laughs. “I did. They’re in the waiting room.” He answers.

“Are they okay?” You ask, unable to move and check yourself. Bucky looks over his shoulder before looking back down at you. “They are. They’re perfect, just getting cleaned up. A boy and a girl.” Bucky murmurs in awe.

“Eleanor and Steven.” You whisper. “Can I hold them?”

“Soon.” Bucky smiles before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “A couple more minutes.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // i’m so glad someone liked my arms will hold you enough to want more of it! i love family bucky, he has my heart.

replies and reblogs are appreictaed if you enjoyed this! 💞

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes

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pasiveagressive · 4 years ago

Text

Buzzfeed Interviews // S.M.

Warnings: Some Sexual references and a little bit of language Idk how much I like this but...

“Hey guys it’s Y/N Y/L/N and sitting next to me is Shawn Mendes,”

“And today we are going to be reading thirst tweets.”

“Okay first one,” you reach into the jug and grab a slip of paper. Taking a minute to read it you laugh “Alrighty, this one is about you bub. ‘Do you think that if I ask him Shawn Mendes would choke me?’” Shawn looks at you like you are crazy for laughing at it,

“Why are you asking anyone to choke you?” he shakes his head and reaches into the jug to grab a piece of paper, “Hey @shawnmendes can I use-” he stops and is about to throw the paper to the side when you snatch it out of his hand, read it, then laugh again.

“Hey @shawnmendes can I use your face as a trampoline? No you cannot, he has a girlfriend.” you smile and wink to the camera. He reads the next already having pulled it out while you were goofing off,

“Y/N is literally the most gorgeous human on this planet, like goddess level beauty inside and out.” He reads

“Oh my gosh that was so wholesome! Thank you!” you gush to the camera looking at the piece of paper Shawn is holding. You reach and grab another paper, “My body is a temple and I want Shawn Mendes to bust the walls down.” the two of you sit and think it over for a second, “That was poetic.” You say

“Yeah you should write a song.” he agrees “Has anyone else seen Y/N Y/L/N’s look from the Grammys? Cause DAMN she could kill me and I would say thank you.” Shawn looks at you confused

“Why?”

“I have no idea bub,” You then face that camera “Um thank you? I am not going to kill you though, so sorry?” the crew behind the camera laughs “ Anywho, @Y/N.Y/L/N’s p**** probably tastes like candy, care to confirm @shawnmendes?” your eyes go wide and then you start laughing. Shawn just pulls out the next piece of paper he reads it, then throws it to the side

“Nope.”

“Babe you are no fun at least let me see it.” You whine as he starts reading the next one“Y/N Y/L/N and Shawn Mendes… Threesome?”

“Um no? Simple answer.” you shake your head and laugh, “Okay this one is so bad but I am going to read it anyway,” Shawn tries to reach for it but you get as far away from him as possible, “Shawn Mendes, I want to eat your a** like a five course meal. I would let you slam your big c*** into all of my holes and thank you, please sir please.” you laugh so hard that you fall out of your seat.

“There is a line and that just went about 300 feet past it.” Shawn says with red cheeks from embarrassment.

“The way that Y/N calls Shawn bub makes me so horny.” he reads after you calm down a little bit.“Ugh, now I am not going to be able to call you that without thinking about how it turns people on.” you complain

“That's my favorite nickname though.” He complains at the same time

“Here we are last one… @Y/N.Y/L/N marry me? Sorry but I am already in a committed relationship, that I just don’t see myself leaving anytime soon.” you smile at Shawn who leans down and kisses your temple.

“That was us reading thirst tweets, we hoped you liked it I guess?” Shawn says

“If you want to see other people doing this the link will be in the description below, and my parting words of wisdom are these. What you post on the internet stays there forever, so don’t post thirst tweets.” You sign off and wave to the camera

“Hi my name is Shawn Mendes and this is my girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N and we are going to be doing Buzzfeed’s relationship test.”

“I think that we are going to get 100%.” You smile

“I think that she is going to get 100% and I am going to leave myself room for error and say 90%.”

“Okay what’s my birthday? Yours is August 8th 1998.”

“Oh easy, August 6th 2001.”“Correct you are almost 3 years older than me. Okay what is their Zodiac Sign?”

“Well I am a Leo so that means that you are a Leo.”

“Yep! And he just answered my question for me.” You smile and tease him.

“Phone number? Yours is *********.” He says without thinking, your eyes go wide. You are fully aware that Buzzfeed will bleep it out but if this had been live he would totally be in the doghouse.

“Shawn!” you exclaim

“What?” He realises what he did, “Oh oops.” you laugh and shake your head. Leaning over you whisper his in his ear, “Yep that's right.”

“Their eye color, Brown.” you say without even thinking, if someone got that wrong they would need to have a serious conversation with their partner.

“And yours is y/e/c.”

“Perfect babe,” you smile and kiss his cheek

“How could I not know that I love your eyes.” He smiles at you

“That was so cheesy.” You laugh “What is their coffee order? He doesn’t really like coffee but if he did drink a coffee it would be caramel iced coffee. Right?” You look at him for confirmation.

“Yeah, and you are a coffee addict, so lately your order has been an Iced caramel macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot.” You smile at him amazed with his ability to remember the small things including your ever changing coffee order.

“Bub that was so good!” you kiss his cheek again. He blushes a little

“Okay, okay. Pizza preference.” he reads “So Y/N doesn’t love pizza as much as most people, she would rather have wings, or like some form of Mexican cuisine. Plus we really try to eat healthy so we don’t eat pizza that much ever. But if we are getting pizza she loves extra cheese.”

“All true facts.” you smile and nod to the camera “Shawn’s pizza preference… hmm pepperoni right?” he nods his head at you “Great! Next question. Shawn’s favorite meal. Shawn loves omelets, is that a meal?” He smiles

“Yeah I say that counts. Oh what's yours?” he pauses thinking for a minute. “Fajitas?”

“I do love a good fajita but I wouldn’t say that they are my favorite.”

“Oh no! See I told you I was going to mess up. What is it?”

“(Your favorite meal.)” you answer

“Ah I did know that.” you guys continue answering about favorite desserts, movies, and books. “Okay, next one who is their celebrity crush?” you read “Oh that's a hard one, um do I count? If not then….”

“Come on babe, you know this.” he tells you and you think about it for another minute

“Oh, oh it's Emma Watson duh.” you exclaim “Okay who's mine?”

“Tom Holland.” He looks at the camera with a blank face.

“Hey I have a type okay.” you laugh “Their favorite swear word. This is going to be hard for you because I swear like a sailor.”

“That is true but I believe that if you could only say one for the rest of your life it would be F*ck.” you think about it for a second

“Okay yeah true, f*ck can be used in so many different contexts. Yours is, oh no I have no idea. You like rarely swear. Um, damn?” Shawn shrugs

“I mean sure? I don’t know that I have a favorite because like you said I try very hard not to swear. Okay their favorite band/artist.” He looks at you with a don’t you dare say anything wrong type of look.

“So yours is John Mayer. I mean everyone and their mother knows that Shawn Mendes loves John Mayer. You also have a love for Ed, and some J.T. though.” you declare

“Alright, mine was easy. Yours is me, I mean right.” he looks at you with that look again.

“Yes babe of course but if I couldn’t pick you who would it be?”

“You love Dua Lipa.” Your smile grows bigger

“Yes I do, Dua please marry me, or just be my friend or anything really.” you plead. The two of you continue on with T.V. show, worst job, biggest petpeeve, and favorite sex position. When you got to this one Shawn’s face had never been redder as than it was when you answered that question. The last question “Kink?” you read “ I immediately know what it is.” you look at him “Can I tell them? I am going to anyway, Shawn has the biggest daddy kink.” you lied before, this was the reddest you have ever seen his face

“Well so do you, babe.” He says after he gains his composure.

“Okay results. I got a 19/20.” he informs you and you smile at him, your competitiveness shining through. “Go ahead, tell everyone how you beat me.”

“20/20 baby!” you do a little victory dance in your chair

“So that was us taking the relationship test, which we both aced. We just read some of your thirst tweets so check out the video, also check out Shawn’s album Shawn Mendes, and my new movie New Mutants in theaters August 28th.”

After you close the computer’s Shawn leans in and kisses you.

“(your favorite meal) for dinner?”

“You know me so well.” you both laugh

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dog-day-morning · 3 years ago

Text

The word of God tells us we shall suffer for the cause of Christ, he who seeks a greater reward must attain a greater faith. Unto whom much is given that much more is required. You wanna eat that whole caramel cake, you crave that sweet tea, you pursue that woman in a nightclub hoping to get her in a compromised position, face down tail up because face it, we're not willing to bow down to the will of God, but we’re so happy, and ready to give in to that round mound of doo doo brown. The 3 Hebrew boys Meshach, Shadrach, and Abednego went into the fiery furnace defying Nebuchadnezzar's declaration to worship him. These men had the inspiration, strength, and courage to say, even if He doesn't deliver us, we know that He can. That kind of faith is called perfected faith. We can be lazy because we refuse to work with what God gave us before the day of calamity comes to devour us. Tribulation is kicking into high gear, and many of God’s people are none the wiser. There are people who were working 3 jobs before, and after this pandemic became a global concern who know what is on the horizon. You don't need an Issachar spirit to discern the times; read the Bible. He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you say at once, ‘A shower is coming.’ And so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat,’ and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time? The gov't has pulled back on unemployment benefits forcing many to find a job. The 2 righteous servants in the parable of the 3 servants increased the wealth of their employer who trusted 3 men with different amounts of talents [money], and the 1 who didn't work diligently for his master inherited weeping, and gnashing of teeth. God invested in us, and He expected a greater return from this major investment. Jesus was the greatest financial venture ever made. The Father placed His faith in His Son who in turn gave Him many more sons that walk amongst us waiting for the Day of Judgment. This investment which supersedes all, but are intertwined will never decrease, and forever increase. The 144,000 isn't a spiritually inspired interpretation based on mine, and Mima getting the Holy Ghost or having an encounter with the Holy Spirit to speak in tongues. Sit down grandma, your Depends are leaking brown stuff that reeks of formaldehyde, and raw chitlins. God is looking for a righteous Nation to worship Him not themselves. These men, and boys who represent the 12 tribes of Israel have never been defiled by women, and hopefully not by men either. You lucky mother You can take the word literally or as a misinterpretation. Those who don't believe in the written word who believe that God's word isn't infallible aren't all to blame for this heresy. Those who originally interpreted the King James Bible added to, and took from are suffering for a misleading interpretation. The prophetic which God didn't let man corrupt altogether has pretty much played out verbatim. We may be dying to a world that is trying to kill our faith that God has no intention of doing until He finds His true worshippers, and He’ll never destroy one's faith in Him. Winter is coming and you and I must be prepared. We must live like today is our last without being caught up in fear. I'm suffering from a form of laziness called jackass. God shall supply all your needs, but faith without works is dead. The ant has the intuition to work throughout the Summer knowing that Winter is coming. A lot of these drones won't live to see the finished product. Ant mounds look like the Pyramids of Giza that secure the Queen, but where is the King? They serve the one who gives life that sustains the colony, she is their goddess, but what happens if the Queen dies? There's more than one Queen serving the colony who can breed an entire colony independent of one other. fulfilling their role while working together in unison with the others who all serve a greater purpose. This

is a major element that drives the Kingdome of heaven. Christ is just like His Father In the Kingdome that includes the Holy Spirit which they will pour upon all flesh again soon. There are no cowards or sinners in the Kingdome. The angels are not as drones, they are blessed warriors.

Revelation 21:8

8 But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.

1 Corinthians 6:8-10

8 Nay, ye do wrong, and defraud, and that your brethren.

9 Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind,

10 Nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.

Alkebulan we need to wake up and get right. Black American's of the tribes of Judah, Gad, Reuben, and Issachar you need to aim at my forehead, and scatter my scatter brained grey matter all over the pavement. When Joe Biden told a radio podcaster if you don't vote for me you're not Black, he must be color blind. This vaccine that suspiciously looks like the Mark of Whodunnit. They can plant a microchip in your arm that can track your every move, financial transaction, and possibly your dreams while you sleep. Some Walmart stores are refusing to take cash when you check out; they only take debit, and credit cards. These are signs that we’re living in the End Times. The Last Days. I'm looking at this as a sign to get the hell outta this city, and decompose. What in God's name am I afraid of? Jesus took a beat down like a man on a mission.. You're not weak or simping if you gave your life for a people you fed, healed, gave sight to, preached to, taught them a new way to live, pray, love, told them about a Kingdome greater than Jerusalem, and you didn't kill anybody in the process knowing what they were going to do to your physical body in an almost retarded like bid to destroy their salvation. I've done none of that; my bad. Stop looking for men, especially zaddy to deliver us. “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” Some of us foolheartedly called Bill Clinton the first Black president when he's not, never can, or will be to me in any sense, Barack wasn't either. Thomas Jefferson, the third elected president, who served two terms between 1801 and 1809 was described as the “son of a half-breed Indian squaw (Black) and a Virginia mulatto father (Black).” Abraham Lincoln, the nation’s 16th president, served between 1861, and 1865. Lincoln had very dark skin, and coarse hair and his mother allegedly came from an Ethiopian tribe. His heritage fueled so much controversy that Lincoln was nicknamed “Abraham Africanus the First” by his presidential opponents and cartoons were drawn depicting him as a Negro. Warren Harding, Calvin Coolidge, Dwight David Eisenhower, and the scourge of the South Andrew Jackson were all n**gahs. I’ll see you come Hanukkah you self-hating black, Uncle Ruckus’s. I don't celebrate Thanksgiving, why should I be overjoyed about the genocide, and enslavement of God's people? Christmas is what it is. Hopefully you will celebrate this holiday season together fulfilling God's prophetic word. I can't unless you kill me. The Christmas holiday is as pagan as Joel Osteen is at scamming. David Duke, you might wanna go to ancestry.com, and take a DNA test. You might be 30% Swahili. By the looks of those big, gorilla nostrals you had before that rhinoplasty. You, and Bull Connor may be related to Idi Amin. Your biggest shame is your greatest blessing. Personally you can kiss the skid marks in the middle of my skid marks after I take a fresh dump. Conservative, political pundits, and wannabes whose names I won't mention, but one in particular who looks like he smoked 23 blunts in 15min. with no filter. Please keep him in California, and let him drown with his zaddy, and pancaked tail, bowed hipped women. Use your lips as a floatation device dude. These people are ashamed of the God who has blessed many, and plenty. These people suffer, hopefully not always, from the white savior or white zaddy complex. The truth isn't in any of them, that's why they're so adept at lying when making bold-faced statements before the public that opposes their previous opinion like people don’t have YouTube or google. I’ll Bing a factoid or Yahoo that mother to get the truth I may even pay for it, gimme a dollar. My inability to walk amongst men as a man has stagnated my propensity to live That's BS, my Apostle said something this past Sunday that's stuck on my forehead. YOU'RE LAZY!!! I am what I am, a pain in the rear end. This has gone on way too long. Sometimes

I feel as though God wants me to kill myself because the PO PO won’t. I would feel better if my natural family would stab me in the neck, not my back, with a piece of diseased, pork, spare rib from a boar hog, and let me die from a rare form of trichinosis. The people have spoken while I’m playing Jay, and Silent Bob. Father, get me outta here. Elohim, 9/16/2021

#your financial transactions

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redspaceace-writes · 5 years ago

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For You - (Roman Sionis x Reader)

Request: I was just wondering if I could request a Roman Sionis!!!! Maybe where the reader is related to Harley!plz

Author's Note: Thank you for the request @starwarsprequelfangirl! I hope you enjoy! This one also goes out to @darling-i-read-it, the queen of Ewan fics. If you, like me, are absolutely obsessed with any of his characters, stop by her blog and read the good stuff! Y/N/N means your nickname.

Warnings: Allusions to smut

Word Count: 1067

Not my GIF! Credit goes to the owner.

The night club, Black Mask, reeks of alcohol and sweat. The sounds of chatter and laughter fill the area. You are wearing a long, strapless dress that drags slightly behind you as you walk through the club. Your husband, Roman Sionis, has yet to leave your side, his right arm snug around your waist. He is wearing a blue suit with black stripes and tinted glasses accessorize his face. While you mingle with the patrons, you sip a drink held in your right hand. Roman’s right-hand man Victor Zsasz strolls over to you both. He nods at you then moves to Roman’s left side to whisper in his ear.

“Darling, I’ve got some business to attend to,” Roman says. “I won’t be gone long. Enjoy yourself, love.” He kisses your left cheek and slides the hand around your waist down to lightly smack your ass. You watch them walk to the stage and meet with another man, then disappear from your view. Searching for an empty booth, you find one and take a seat. You rest your head against the wall behind you and close your eyes.

A loud crack and scream pierce your ears. You are immediately on alert and leave the comfy seat looking for the commotion. Your eyes are drawn to a small crowd of women surrounding someone. Getting closer, you see a man you recognize as Roman’s driver. You hear a cackle distinctly belonging to a female. You’ve heard that laugh before.

“Harley?” you ask incredulously. Hearing her name, she turns to look at you. A wide grin breaks out across her face. She runs to you and gives you the biggest hug you’ve had in a long time.

“Y/N!” Harley exclaims. “I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” You and Harley are cousins. You used to be really close as kids. The last time you heard from her, she had just gotten a job at Arkham Asylum. Then she just disappeared. You didn’t know where she’d gone. Around that time, you met Roman. He was there to comfort you during your distraught state without Harley. From that night you both became inseparable. Now here you are years later married to the man.

“Yeah, me too,” you say. “Let’s go to the bar and get some drinks.” Harley nods eagerly. You guide her through the sea of people, each individual parting to let you pass. You miss her look of surprise as she follows you. You sit beside each other and order your drinks. When the bartender leaves, Harley turns to you, shock still on her face.

“Y/N/N, how did you get those people to move aside like that?” she asks, perplexed. You lift your left hand to show off both your rings. She gasps excitedly and grabs your hand to admire the rings.

“Y/N/N! You’re married? Congrats!” Harley shouts. “Who’s the lucky guy?” You debate if you should answer the question honestly. Should you tell her your husband is the notorious crime boss Roman Sionis? He’s avidly expressed his distaste for Harley, even labeling her as an enemy. You decide it’s best not to tell her. At the moment, the bartender has served your beverages.

“Oh, he’s just some guy I met at a club,” you mumble, picking up your alcohol, taking a swig.

“Oh, c’mon! Give me some details!” she groans. “What’s he like? What does he do?” Before you can deflect her questions, you feel hands on your shoulders. You know immediately who it is and panic internally.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Roman declares, announcing his presence. “Hello, Harleen. It’s been a while.” Harley grins mockingly.

“Rommie! It’s so good to see you,” she exclaims. “How’s life been treatin’ you?” Roman chuckles at her attempt to be civil.

“Life’s great, actually,” Roman says smugly. “I got married to this Goddess after you abandoned her for your psychotic boyfriend.” You were mid-sip when he spoke those words. You choked, spitting and coughing all over the counter. Roman brought one of his hands down to rub your back. The pompous bastard. You shot up from your seat and shrugged off Roman’s hands. You grabbed Harley’s arm and dragged her to the Women’s restroom. Upon entering the facilities, you checked to make sure no one else was in there before locking the door. You sighed heavily before facing Harley.

“Y/N, you’re married to Roman fucking Sionis?” she asks, looking betrayed. “He hates my guts, he wants me dead! How could you possibly be with a man like him?” You fluttered your eyelids in disbelief.

“Harley, you left me. The day you started working at that god-forsaken asylum, I stopped existing. I called you every day in hopes of just being able to hear your voice…” you pause. “Roman was there when you weren’t. You ran off with the Joker. You cast me aside due to your obsession with him. Roman has shown me nothing but kindness and love. I know how he feels about you. He’s told me all about the shit you’ve put him through. Look, I love you-”

“No! I don’t wanna hear it,” she shouts. “I’m sorry for ghostin’ you like I did, but I’m back now. And I’m tellin’ you, Roman is nothing but bad news.” You shush her before she can continue.

“If you’re going to continue to insult the man I love, then you can leave,” you say sternly. “It was nice to see you again.” You stare at Harley and see tears form in her eyes. She stomps towards the door, unlocks it, and vanishes from sight. You exit the bathroom to find Roman standing there. He reaches out to touch you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” you snarl. “You just had to stroke your ego, didn’t you? She’s my family and I haven’t seen her in a long time so your first instinct is to push her away from me?” Roman sighs.

“Love, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes. He puts his hand under your chin, wanting you to look at him. “Let me make it up to you.” Roman knows you can’t stay mad at him for long or resist his charm. He captures your lips with his before grasping your hand and leading you upstairs, taking you to bed.

------------------

Requests are open! Check out who I write for and feel free to ask for anyone not on the list!

Posted: February 19, 2020

#birds of prey #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #harley quinn #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey imagine #roman sionis imagine #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor imagine

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redhoodedwolf · 4 years ago

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Prompt: They both keep asking each other out but thinking the other one is rejecting them and lydia has to like banshee scream some sense into them or something

“So, what are you doing this weekend?”

Stiles scoffed, tossing the lacrosse ball back up towards the ceiling and catching it narrowly before it smacked him on the nose on the way down. “Not going on a date,” he said, somewhat bitterly. It’d been over three months since the last one of those and he’s starting to take it personally. Is he no longer attractive? Did moving in with his dad while he goes through surgery recovery really demote his worth?

Derek was quiet for a moment, probably engrossed in his bestiary research again. When Stiles turned onto his side on the bed and glanced at him, he caught Derek’s eyes flitting back down to the book. “I see,” the werewolf said a beat later, no emotion readable in his voice.

Stiles continued to stare at him, mostly unabashedly, noting how Derek’s fingers curled over one corner of the book, the shadows his dark eyelashes cast over his cheeks, his shoulders bare underneath a tight white tank top.

“I am starving,” John Stilinski complained, and Stiles had come to expect this complaint every evening after physical therapy, like clockwork.

Derek, his physical therapist, chuckled as he lowered Stiles’ father into the living room recliner, removing the crutches from his hands. “You did good work today, it’s to be expected.”

“What’s the prognosis, doc?”

Derek ignored the nickname, which Stiles knew five years ago would have garnered even his father the Hale Death Glare. “You’ve got good bones, Sheriff, and they’re healing nicely. In a couple weeks we’ll try to get you walking without the crutches--”

“As long as you continue doing your daily exercises,” Stiles finished Derek’s thought as he brought a healthy plate of fruits and vegetables out from the kitchen to settle onto the table next to his dad’s chair.

Derek nodded at him, a small smile on his lips. His eyes were sparkling with mirth.

Stiles felt the words tumble out of his mouth, “We should go get dinner. Together,” he tacked on when he got control of his mouth again.

Maybe doing this in front of his immobile father wasn’t the best choice, but needs must?

Derek’s smile faltered, and his eyes flicked away from Stiles over to his father and then back to Stiles. Derek cleared his throat, and cast his eyes downward. Stiles pursed his lips.

“We--You shouldn’t leave your dad. He’ll need the pork chops you’ve been defrosting for dinner tonight to help revive him.”

Stiles felt a frozen smile on his face and a similar coolness in his stomach. “Right. Forgot about those.”

Danny arched an eyebrow when Stiles slid onto a stool at the bar, and before Stiles could utter a greeting, asked, “Does Lydia know you’re here?”

Stiles blinked. “Um, no? She’s in Boston? Do I need her permission to drink? I’ll have what’s on tap.”

Danny’s eyebrow looked far more judgmental, but he moved to grab a mug for Stiles’ beer and filled it. “I ask because she’s been asking me to keep her up to date with your... shall we say movements here. I don’t think she expected you in a gay bar at night when you could be with someone else.”

Stiles scoffed and took a long drink from his mug. “And who could that be, my dad?”

“Was thinking younger, more scruffy, more fangs,” Danny shot back with, and Stiles’ beer suddenly went down like lava, drying up his insides and instantly draining the life from him.

“No. No, that’s not...” Stiles shook his head, unable to finish.

Danny made a noise, and Stiles looked back up at him.

“Weird. Ran into someone at the grocery store last week, and all he, ehem, they, if we’re still pretending here, talked about was helping you, and why you were in town, and if I had seen you recently.”

Stiles ran a hand over his face. “He’s my dad’s PT, okay? I’m home for my dad. That’s what he cares about. He made that pretty clear.”

Danny refilled his mug without Stiles asking for it, and it made a dull clanking when the full drink hit the bartop. “You asked him out?”

Stiles took the mug into his hands and said nothing.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Look, I know how scarce FMLA time is, even for me, I have no idea how much they give you fancy FBI operatives--”

“They’re actually surprisingly good about it,” Stiles interrupted, a puff to his chest. “That, and they know if they ever want me back, which they do because they need me, then they’ll give me what I want.”

“You have such a confident attitude when it comes to your job,” Danny said, as if his statement had a double meaning. “Expect a call from Lydia tomorrow.”

Stiles was in his room the next morning, glad for his foresight the night before to not drink himself into a stupor he hadn’t found himself in since college, window open to let in the morning breeze and the sound of Derek’s voice as he stood on the front porch, talking into his phone.

Derek was early for his dad’s appointment, so Stiles had no qualms about making him wait. He wasn’t ready to face him yet, not without waking up a bit more and removing the images of dream-Derek from his brain.

“Look,” Derek said abruptly, and the sudden clarity of his voice caught Stiles’ attention. “I’ve already gotten a no, okay? I’m not such an asshole as to ask twice.”

Stiles couldn’t see him and didn’t want to move closer to the window, in case Derek heard or sensed him eavesdropping, so he moved about his room as naturally as possible, pulling off his sleep pants and dressing in fresh jeans.

“I don’t know what Danny told you, but--”

Stiles stubbed his toes on the leg of his bed, so he missed the rest of Derek’s sentence as he cursed up a storm mentally and shook out his foot to try and stop the sharp pain.

“We can’t all be special like you.”

Stiles collapsed onto the edge of his bed. He’d barely caught the words coming from Derek, they’d been spoken so gently. Stiles swallowed thickly. Who could Derek be talking to that garnered such respect and tenderness? Maybe Cora?

The doorbell rang downstairs, and his dad called, “Derek’s here!” from the kitchen, meaning “get the door for me I’m finishing up the last of my exercises that I promised I would do yesterday but never did.”

Stiles pulled on a shirt and raced down the stairs, opening the door for Derek in record time. “We should just get you a key to the house,” Stiles half-joked.

There was a look on Derek’s face that Stiles couldn’t read. He also couldn’t tell if it had to do with his phone conversation or seeing Stiles.

Derek glanced up behind him and said, “Your phone is--” he paused and shook his head. “Your dad in the living room?”

Stiles stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind them. “The kitchen, I think? I just woke up.”

Derek glanced at the hall clock that proclaimed it was almost eleven thirty in the morning. He licked his lips. “Long night?” Derek asked.

Stiles shrugged. “Went out for drinks,” he answered a beat later, spotting his father in the kitchen, crutch under one arm and trying to bend to reach something in the fridge. “Dad, would you let me get it, please?”

“I would if my son didn’t come home in the early hours of the morning, thus sleeping past any kind of respectable time, to help me eat something before my PT appointment. Hello Derek,” his father greeted, smile on his face wavering before he asked, “Everything okay?”

Stiles turned to see Derek’s eyes on the floor as he nodded. “All good, Sheriff. Let’s get you squared away.”

Stiles used the appointment time as a reason to escape and get groceries. Halfway to the store, his phone sprang to live, vibrating up a storm in the cup holder. He let the call ring out, but then whoever it was called back immediately. With a sigh, Stiles pulled into the closest parking lot which happened to be for a bank and reached for his phone. He’d assumed it was work calling, but Lydia’s name was flashing on the screen, declaring several missed calls from earlier in the morning as well. He’d recalled Danny’s warning from the night (this morning?) before and groaned, loudly.

When the phone rang again, he picked up immediately. “Yes, strawberry goddess?”

“Are you with Derek?”

Stiles glanced in his rear-view mirror to double check (hey, it had happened before) and replied, “No, he’s at home working with Dad. Why?”

“Where are you?”

Stiles was starting to get a headache. “On my way to the store. Pulled into a parking lot because you called.”

“Good. Switch to FaceTime.”

Stiles knew it wasn’t a question. He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen, unenthused, until Lydia’s face appeared before him.

“So, what did Danny tell you?” Stiles asked, wanting to get this out of the way.

“Stiles, you look sad,” Lydia said with a “tsk” in her voice.

“Not exactly swimming in roses here in good ol’ BH, hon.”

Lydia smiled sympathetically. “You miss work?”

Stiles rubbed his free hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah? But this is way more important. And it’s been good family time. The SanFran branch is close but not close enough.”

Lydia nodded. “I know. But you should be making the most out of your time. Like not shooting yourself in the foot.”

Stiles squawked indignantly. “Excuse me?”

“That’s what Danny told me, at least,” She flipped her hand back and forth, and Stiles noticed something gleaming on her fourth finger.

“Lydia, are you engaged?!” Stiles shrieked. Some lady coming out of the bank glared at him and clutched her purse tight to her chest. How dare she, he worked for the FBI.

Lydia huffed and examined her left hand. “Yes. All the more reason for you to stop shooting yourself in the foot so you can bring a date to my wedding. You’ll be my best man, of course.”

“Of-of course. I’m-I’d be honored. But, wait...” Stiles shook his head, reorganizing his thoughts. “I’m not shooting myself, I’m putting myself out there and getting rejected. I’m...getting shot at. Metaphorically.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if his connection froze or if Lydia was just holding the “Stiles is an idiot” look on her face.

“Lydia,” Stiles said, in warning.

“And he calls me special,” Lydia murmured under her breath, face finally breaking.

And that. That pinged a bell in Stiles’ brain. “You were the one on the phone with Derek earlier?”

“Yes, telling him about my upcoming nuptials and how I was hoping to use Hale land to have the ceremony and reception on. And about his choice in date.”

Stiles watched Lydia smirk, and it was still scary even pixelated. He tried to think back on the little he’d overheard from the call. But putting it into context didn’t make sense. Because then Derek would have been meaning that he’d asked someone on a date, and got turned down. Not impossible, but improbable, especially considering his character growth since Stiles was in high school.

A sick feeling settled into Stiles’ stomach when he remembered what else Derek had said. “Did... he asked out--”

“Yes, Stiles,” Lydia said with a relieved sigh.

“Danny,” Stiles choked out and slumped back in the seat. Of course.

“Oh for the love of Christ,” Lydia hissed, and Stiles slid his gaze back over to the phone to see Lydia practically seething. “I will scream. I am about to scream. Just go get your stupid groceries, go home, talk to Derek, and then call me.”

“So he can let me down a second time? No thanks,” Stiles grumbled, but she did have a point about the store.

“You are a disappointment,” Lydia said before abruptly ending the call, which stung a little, but Stiles knew she didn’t really mean it.

Derek was at his car door when he got home an hour after leaving and helped to bring the bags of groceries into the house. He even helped put them away in the kitchen, not uttering a word the entire time. It was weirding Stiles out, but not enough to tell him to stop. The job was done in more than half the time.

“Your dad is taking a shower. Don’t worry,” Derek added, when Stiles opened his mouth, “I’ve got ears on him. He’s perfectly steady, using the shower chair and everything. Just didn’t want another sponge bath from his son.”

Stiles scoffed, unable to look at Derek for more than a second without feeling jealous. “They aren’t a cake walk for me either.”

“I’m not dating Danny.”

Stiles stopped rolling the empty plastic bags into a large ball and tossed it onto the counter, wound-up bags spilling in random directions and expanding very slowly.

“I didn’t ask him out either. I wouldn’t--” Derek’s voice faltered, and Stiles look at him truly for the first time that day. Derek’s shoulders were slumped, and he looked exhausted. “I wouldn’t do that to you, unknowingly or knowingly.”

“Um.” Stiles was now feeling like the idiot Lydia looked at him like.

“Lydia texted me, said you thought I’d asked him out, but I didn’t, I barely see him, he’s only working here before he starts grad school--”

“I know,” Stiles said, needing to do something with his body before he went into a complete shock. He was lost, which didn’t happen much these days.

Derek didn’t look any happier; in fact he looked even more upset, though his emotions only played out in the crinkles on his face and the slope of his torso. “Of course, yeah, I mean you spent all night with him so...” Derek trailed off.

Stiles started to catch on. “Yeeeah,” he responded, slowly. “Because he was bartending at the bar I went to last night. Contractually obligated to stick around and make drinks.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed. “But then who did you meet for drinks?”

Stiles raised his hands up. “Nobody? I mean, there were others there, but it was a Wednesday night, dude, not exactly popping.”

“So you’re not dating Danny?”

Stiles scoffed. “No, Danny is out of my league and I am not his type.” He swallowed before adding, “You are, though.”

Derek nodded once, then again. “Oh. So it’s just me, then. I see.”

“That’s great. Wanna show me the picture?” Stiles asked, reaching out to settle a hand on Derek’s arm and squeezing the muscle. “I feel like we’re working with different cameras here.”

Derek’s eyes fell on Stiles’ touch of comfort, gaze trailing up his arm and finally landing on his face. “Lydia is getting married,” he mumbled.

“She is,” Stiles said, because it was good they agreed on something.

Derek stared at him, took a deep breath, and said, “And I want to date you.”

Stiles’ grip on Derek’s arm tightened. He forced back the stupid smile that wanted to overwhelm his face and said on an exhale, “What made you change your mind?”

“Change my mind? I haven’t. I asked you on a date. You said you weren’t interested.”

Stiles pulled Derek a step closer to him, eyes wide and head shaking. “Uh, no, I would never do that, besides it was you who turned me down, remember?”

Derek took hold of Stiles’ wrist and pulled him even closer, their chests touching. “I think neither of us have been working with a full deck here.”

“You’re mixing metaphors now,” Stiles warned, and knew Derek could hear the way his heart was tripping over itself by the tightening of his grip.

“No, you used one metaphor, and then I used one. No mixing, yet,” Derek challenged, pale eyes flitting all over Stiles’ face before his gaze was landing below his nose.

“I think I am starting to get why Lydia wanted to scream in my face earlier,” Stiles murmured, lips close to brushing Derek’s as he rocked forward.

“I kind of want to scream now.”

Stiles and Derek jumped apart to see an amused and wet-haired Sheriff in the kitchen doorway, a towel slung over his shoulders.

“Dad, you are the worst,” Stiles declared.

His father gave him a look.

“Oh, go do your alphabet foot exercises,” Stiles shot back, snagging Derek’s wrist and pulling him past his father and into the hallway. “I’m going to ask a second time, Derek, and I know not taking no for an answer is so high-school-Stiles but I think this time I can make an exception.”

Derek was grinning at him, teeth on display, and Stiles tilted forward to kiss them, but realized halfway through the motion how weird that might be.

“Will you go on a date with me? And be my date to Lydia’s wedding, whenever that is?” Stiles placed a hand on Derek’s chest, over his heart. “Please don’t say no,” he whispered. “You are so my type.”

Derek raised his chin and kissed him, which was fantastic, but not an answer. Stiles moaned his disappointment into the kiss, but didn’t pull away because he was pretty sure Derek was more of an actions-guy anyway.

He was definitely good at the physicality part of physical therapy, Stiles could quickly attest to this.

#sterek #fic #eternalsterek #mine #anjalibutch

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awakened-harmony · 3 years ago

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Realized i should probably make a other Universes chart for how vita is in the off chance people are interested in her non-main UT verse (Underfell) so i’m not just scrambling! SO here is the other variations of vita.

Undertale tag: In the world below (Undertale verse ~ Vita) - Used to be her UF tag but i changed it

I don’t actually have much to add about Undertale since all her elements remain about the same, Perhaps the only true difference is that she’s while still disliking of living underground, She’s content with how asgore has done to keep monsterkind happy despite their circumstances and happily. Openly shows affection to anyone who requests. it

Under the read more is Horrortale and Underswap because they BOTH got longer then i intended them to. I may explore other AU’s if asked but these three will be the main ones :D

----

Horrortale tag: Pray for your time and i’ll bring it so (Horrortale verse ~ Vita)

She like most of the monsters had grieved for the death of the king at the hands of a human who despite her own fear at the death of their ruler knew had only been scared, She like most of the monsters had Panicked when the news of the core’s failure came to light, But she had hoped that they’d get it fixed. That even as the food became scarcer, The air in the dark caverns grew musty and the lights soon turned off completely. She could only hope that it would be fixed, It was only when the first monsters started to die that her hope begun to crumble, Slowly and carefully being chipped away, It was a sensation that helped her ignore the rumble of pain in her belly because all of her rations went to her son. She had to keep him safe, Fed as best she could, She had to be there for him. Help him even if she could help no other soul then her child, He. Her last true piece of her mate, A symbol of their love.

....She failed.

In the end, Maybe it was because of how young he was still, Maybe something in the air had become poisonous that he couldn’t withstand while she could due to her age. To this day, What ifs and maybe’s run through her head about what she could have done differently, like a mantra of pain and grieve. The only thing clear in her head was the resolution in her soul as she put her son out of his misery, The looping memory as she took the light of her life, The joy of her world’s soul out of his chest and could only whisper a prayer of safe travels and a ‘i love you’ before she crushed that beautiful soul in her hands. Forcing it to shatter into hundreds of little pieces as his body turned to dust, She knows she had to do it, but she still can’t forgive herself for it and she’s certain hell awaits her when she dies. If she dies.

Because even as her son had faded, Vita maybe not have thrived, But she survived. Even as she starved and once strong limbs atrophied, She still took it upon herself each day to stand, To get up, To find food if she could...and give it to others. She’s not sure why she doesn’t die, But her best running theory is that her healing magic has turned inward on itself and heals her soul even as her body withers around it. It heals and heals and heals, She is sure that if not for her starved body, She would have been dead of a hundred different cancers by now.

Instead her house, What was her house has essentially become a church. Waterfall had always been the last monsters they thought about because what did they have to offer to the rest of the underground? Snowdin held the way all humans entered the underground, Hotland held the core, The capital held the largest of the undergrounds population and it held the queen. But waterfall? They’d been seen as obsolete and though not sealed off from the rest of the population, They weren’t welcome anymore. So just as snowdin eventually got sans, As corrupt as he was as a protector, Waterfall got Vita. Her continued survival despite starving, Her hope that things will improve one day, Her gracious giving of all but the clothes off her back. She protects the monsters of waterfall and many of the remaining population, the weak, the sick, even the dying come to her. Some if only to spend their last moments to feel as if someone still cared about them, To have their final fate given to them in kindness and not suffering, She who would deliver their souls to Asgore.

Things to take note of in her Horrortale verse: - Vita’s son is dead and she killed him, Killed him to end his suffering as he’d started to decline like some of the other monsters.

- She’s rail thin and looks as though even the lightest wind could blow her over and while she can no longer defend herself, Her followers who praise and follow her lead will kill for her lest they lose their chosen spot of hope in the hell that had become of their home. So while waterfall IS a safe passage, it’s only if you respect she who guards it.

- Vita has leaned heavily into her old beliefs, She’s become incredibly soft spoken and seems to murmur her prayers in a haunting whisper alongside her followers, Asking for help, For hope, For forgiveness for the sins she has committed, To allow her to bear the sins of her followers because they only do as she asks and while she does talk to monsters sometimes without this inflection, It is rare and often only resurfaces with monsters she knew personally whether it be before or after the war.

- Her LV is higher because she mercy kills monsters who are dying of starvation, Of lack of magic, In the words of her followers. She’s sending them to asgore. She brings them comfort in a painless death, She is viewed as a Messiah and in some messed up way, She has more family then she’s ever known in this verse.

----

Underswap tag: Oh maiden with your soul of stone (Underswap verse ~ Vita)

In underswap, Vita despite her soul of Pacifism and her once gentle demeanor turns a full 180 upon the learned death of her mate drusil while protecting the queen in an assasination attempt in the exploits of the war decides to take up the mantle that her mate had left vacant, Abandoning her duties as a healer, Her soul corrupts and becomes one of a Warmonger. She once known for her overwhelming amount of kindness becomes a symbol to fear, Nicknamed by the humans as ‘the siren’ and takes the place of her previous mate by the queen’s side as one of her guards, She personally ensures that the humans lost some ground in the war and for a time. Gave hope in her own way that monster kind would once more be able to thrive as they once did.

But even with her furiosity, That doesn’t happen, They still get sent underground. Not that it truly stops vita, Urging the queen that retreat isn’t an option, That while monsters might be trapped, There would one day be a time they return and they had to be ready. Despite that, the queen initially refuses and while vita still served as her guard, Anger does brew under the surface at her refusal. Another blow is struck when a human does fall underground and instead of rightfully being slaughtered. She and her Meek husband adopt the pitiful creature.

She’s not sure whether she felt vindicated or distraught when the news broke out that both the human AND the young prince were dead, That they’d tried to cross the barrier, that if only they’d come back with a few more souls. They’d have already been free, But instead the dust of both of them was scattered on a small plush toy of the prince’s. It was in this moment even as her coward of a husband flee’s with the humans true body, the queen finally saw the right path to take, At the cost of her entire family and she declared that any further humans to fall into the underground were to die, Harvested for their souls so she may become a goddess among monsters and break the barrier.

And she carries on this duty for her queen with what some see as a sense of pride, She is well known for collecting three of the human souls currently in the queen’s possession, She does eventually step down as the captain of the royal guard and allows Alphys to take the position. But she still co-leads and her advice is taken very seriously, She trains new recruits, following the old army ways of breaking their recruits, they either walk or become something worth her while.

Things to take note of in her Underswap verse: - She’s not downright cruel to monsters but compared to other monsters in US, She comes off as harsh and rough, hard to get close to though she has a fondness for monster children, Recruits she see’s potential in and her fellow comrades whether they be retired from the guard or not because they served well.

- She doesn’t have a son, She was pregnant at one point after they were sealed in the underground but...she doesn’t talk about what happened and nobody has dared to ask.

- Her soul is corrupted and has been since her mate’s death, Maybe with the right people and enough work, it could be restored but there’s no saying she’d be the same after all she did under her corrupted soul’s influence.

- She still lives in waterfall but her house is smaller and only has the bare minimum on the inside, It doesn’t feel very homely so to speak.

- US vita is fucking buff as hell and could snap your spine like a kit kat bar

#Oh maiden with your soul of stone (Underswap verse ~ Vita)#Pray for your time and i’ll bring it so (Horrortale verse ~ Vita)#In the world below (Undertale verse ~ Vita)#//SO yeah #//One of them's basically a religious cult #//and the other one comes off like a bitch #//vita's havin' a...time

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rosesbriarsvioletiris · 4 years ago

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𝕸𝖞 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕱𝖔𝖗 𝕰𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕳𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘’ 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖎𝖗 𝖋𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘’ 𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘 - 𝕭𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖗 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞

𝕭𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖗 𝕭𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 -

Briar Zellandine Rose Beauty

(Zell-a-deen) (generic pronunciation)

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱

The tale of Sleeping Beauty has taken quite the journey to becoming the story we all know today. From the disturbing and harrowing tales of Zellandine and Talia riddled with dreadful misogyny and treating women as mere sex objects to the more righteous yet still murky ubiquitous story that inspired parts of the Valley of the Dolls. In my eyes, it is a tragic tale and I can understand why Briar does not want to leave her friends, family and loved ones behind.

Briar Rose was the name of the protagonist in the brothers Grimm tale and the pseudonym of Aurora when she went into hiding. This is most likely where EAH derived her name and also because of the briars that cover the tower when she sleeps. (Briars are a thorny rose bush). It seemed ineluctable to give her the middle name Rose and Rose comes from the least well... grim stories - let's not completely traumatise Briar with her namesakes.

Princess Zellandine is the first known Sleeping Beauty - she was presented to us in a medieval romance novel called Perceforest in the 14th century written by an anonymous French Author. Zellandine was the princess of Zeeland who was in love with a knight called Troylus from Royalville, Scotland. She was born to a King and Queen who loved her with all their heart and when she was born they had a party for her and invited three goddesses who bestowed gifts upon her. One of the goddesses changed her mind about the princess and decided she loathed her and declared she was to damn her to eternal sleep when she reached 16. When Zellandine grew up, she met Troylus and they feel in love. One fateful day, Zellandine was exploring the castle when she found a spindle and pricked her finger on a piece of flax. Heartbroken, her parents determined that to protect her they would place her at the top of the tower on a bed completely naked. When Troylus heard the news he hurried to the castle and was helped to the top by a Zephyr. When he gets into her room he finds venus there casually and she pretty much told him that he should sleep with her, following her advice he sleeps with Zellandine without her consent. After being defiled she falls pregnant. Nine months later, the baby is born (she gave birth to it in her sleep, kudos to her) and thinking her finger is a nipple it sucks on it drawing the piece of flax out and breaking the spell. Zellandine wakes up and is bewildered as to why a baby is on her bed - she soon realises that the baby is hers and is distraught as she is now considered a “ruined woman”. She then realises that there is a ring on her hand that was not there before she fell asleep therefore she did not sin, she realises it was Troylus’ ring and he must have slept with her and it's okay even though it's really not. Bizarrely, a bird flies into the room and steals the baby. Troylus comes back, they get married and they live happily ever after. This story inspired many folklorists including an Italian author who wrote The Sun, Moon and Talia - an adaptation of Sleeping Beauty. Just like how I said on my Apple post, the not so pleasant namesakes are out of gratitude for the change in their stories - Briar’s mother must have been grateful to not live through what Zellandine or Talia lived through - the story now may not be pleasant but in a way it has been simplified. Also in Briar’s case, her middle name is derived from the long line of women in her family.

𝕹𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘

Bri

Bri Bri

Briar Rose (not exactly a nickname, more of an affectionate name)

𝕭𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖗’𝖘 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 -

Aurelia “Sleeping” Beauty

(aw-ray-lee-a)

Aurelia is a name of Latin origin meaning the golden one. It is similar to Aurora both phonetically and meaning wise, Aurora means dawn. I'll be the first to admit that this name choice isn't the greatest but not only does it tie in with the name Aurora, it also ties in with the story briefly mentioned earlier, Sun, Moon and Talia (Aurelia representing the sun).

It has been stated that Briar and her Mother look alike. I don't know much about her but I feel like she and Briar would have a close-knit relationship

“Sleeping Beauty loves Briar with all her heart, but sometimes cannot show it because she is asleep.”

In my mind, Briar’s mother could be a Leo like her. I see her as devoted if a little spaced-out sometimes. I believe the sleeping spell consequences make her feel guilty as she is dedicated to her life as a mother and wants the best for her children. She is kind and perhaps likes theatre just to play on her Leo side. In the Class of Classics, she was the editor of the school newspaper.

I have seen many great headcanons on Briar’s ethnicity as Ever After High is severely lacking characters of different backgrounds - Briar and Rosabella’s mothers are sisters and Beauty and the Beast is a French tale, maybe they could be from the French-Italian border? I haven't exactly thought this through and to me, both Briar and Rosabella are people of colour. Here is an amazing blog post I agree with!

𝕭𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖗’𝖘 𝕭𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖘 -

Briar has 8 little brothers who we, unfortunately, did not get to meet in the show. Enjoy this excerpt from the fan wiki:

“Her mother is prone to the same sleeping spells she is while her father is always on the lookout for heroic adventures and monsters to slay. She also has eight little brothers, a few being name Loyalty, Tenacity, Courage, Gallantry, and Honor. Three of her brothers are triplets and Honor is the youngest of the family. They tend to cause havoc around the castle while making believe their own adventures. They greatly miss their elder sister when she is away at school. Her cousin is Rosabella Beauty, while her aunt and uncle are Beauty and the Beast from the same fairytale. The two families have a hard time interacting as Briar's heroic father cannot accept Rosabella's father was once a beast.”

Imagine how adorable they would be! I will update this post if I end up naming the rest of Briar’s brothers.

#ever after high #briar beauty #sleeping beauty #eah #mattel #class of classic #names #middle names #fairytale history #fairytale

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sunpathos · 3 years ago

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𝖫𝖮𝖪𝖨 𝖵𝖠𝖱𝖨𝖠𝖭𝖳 ( 𝖲𝖸𝖫𝖵𝖨𝖤 ) 𝖮𝖱𝖨𝖦𝖨𝖭𝖠𝖫 𝖳𝖨𝖬𝖤𝖫𝖨𝖭𝖤 𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝟣

BEFORE THOR: loki laufeydottir, this is the only name she has ever known. she has always known that she was adopted, that she is laufey’s daughter who was found by odin. this is something she has always know. the meek daughter of laufey that was left behind. she is thor odinson’s sister. the goddess of mischief. they lose frigga early in her childhood, and yet she realizes that everything she knows, ever one of her powers is thanks to her. from the books that she left behind. as she grows, she thought of her kind, what they are, and what she can never be. she earns the title of princess of asgard, and everyone is reassured that she will never get to reign. this wariness of her is not because of her heritage (in fact no one knows she is the daughter of a frost giant besides close family, not even the friends, she and thor share). she has no intention to rule, in fact, she rather likes that the responsibility is passed to her brother. yes, she is fascinated by frost giants, and actually makes contact with them at one point. but, it is never about ruling and being queen. it’s about knowing where she comes from.

THOR: we see her first, in thor’s first scene. at his side, for getting ready to accept the throne with the rest of their friends. she smiles even, when she sees that her brother will be ascending into the throne. what she does not know, is that frost giants (aided by her tie to the planet and her cousin) have infiltrated the vault. she is by the side of odin and thor, watching the interaction, and finds it amusing almost. big reminder: she does not not know of the plans of the frost giants, but it is because of her ties to them. and she also agrees with thor, because she believes that they should protect asgard no matter what. she doesn’t realize how bad it is about to get, and how much of a knucklehead her brother is. she is only supporting thor and his lcaim to the throne because she believes that odin is wrong. she obviously tries to charm heimdall, because that is her thing, silver tongue is a nickname she takes to fondly. and rather than being a joke, it’s a sense of pride. sometimes it does not work and she can laugh about it. loki hates the idea of being discovered, of the people of asgard fully finding out that she is the daughter of the same frost giants that have... killed and maimed her people. big reminder again: she DID NOT let them in, no no, but they did use her as a bridge to get to asgard without her knowledge. and she does absolutely try to stop thor from being a idiot and obviously does not work because they just had to call him ‘little princess’. she fights with the as we see in movie. and does absolutely see her hand turn blue, and the way that the frost giant reacts. she wastes no time to kill that frost giant. she runs as we see on the show, trying to make sure her friend does not die and that they themselves don’t die. she realizes that she is at fault for this mission as much as thor is. she had encouraged the will in him, told him he was right and gave him an edge.what she does not expect is odin, to make an appearance, to talk this way about them, and to whisk them away like that. when odin and thor fight, she does try to defend thor, only to be shut down and screamed out. but it is then, she realizes then that, it is her fault that the frost giants have made their way into asgard. what she does not expect is odin to cast out thor, when she is as much to blame as he is. she spends most of her time thinking once thor is gone. she keeps looking at solutions. and she also told heimdall to find odin and tell him. she is still suspected, and thought to be the user to bring them there. while she had a hand, she is not the one. the scene where we see loki touch the casket, does happen. but she knows. she knows, and she hates that her skin is blue, that she is... a frost giant. the conversation does not happen in pain, but rather, it is a way of her realizing that she is needed for peace. she call for medics as soon as odin crumbles, wanting to ensure a future of azgard. she realizes now, that she needs to be a bridge. a bridge for peace, not something that the frost giants use and discard. and yes, loki does take to the throne because she is next in line sadly. the scene goes mostly the same, but her friends do ask to end thor’s banishment. she says the same, but she truly means it. she knows that if she reverses what odin declared, she will be considered an undoer. and that is everything but what she wants. the conversation over odin’s bed goes a little different where loki asks frigga if she can truly bring peace. if she can be the bridge that they need her to be. she also appears to thor, and tells him the father is in his sleep rather than dead. she is honest, but cruel, because she needs him to suffer. she needs him to realize what he has done. she lies about their mother, to punish him, to make him realize.she never expect an apology or for him to cry, but hopes he understands what he needs to do, what needs to be done to ensure thor gets back. she cannot hand it to him, because it is not within her right. she tries to lift the hammer, but realizes that it won’t work for her. she is not worthy of it. she does goes to jotunheim to talk to laufey, and lies to them. tells them that she willing showed them how to get to asgard. that was a lie, and also tries to forge a peace. she does not bring back frost giants, but they have already... found a way in. following her, following her magic and her way of using that same magic. they use her a bridge once more, this time with one of half brothers, a true frost giant, wanting to rule asgard as his sister is the newest queen and he is older. let it be clear, that loki makes it treason to find thor because it is what has been told. thor needs to find his own way back home, find himself to be worthy. he must do that on his own (or so she believes) and sends the destroyer because it’s what she believes must be done. she does not wish to bring them harm, not to their friends or thor. she does as what she believes must be done. and sif gives thor hope rather than telling him that odin is alive. she does relive heimdall of his duties but because is what she believes it right. she does not freeze him, but her half brother does, and lets the other frost giants inside of asgard. loki plays along with the frost giants, letting them believe that she is on their side, that she hates all of asgard for lying and keeping who she was from herself. they all believe her to be the bad guy, to be the one that let the frost giants in. again it is her half brother that lets the frost giants inside and has frozen heimdall, not loki herself. she does play along because it serves her best at the moment. she kills laufey, knowing that it might be the start of a war, and knows that her brother will be angry, and she lets him believe whatever he wants. and goes on to destroy jotunheim, to ensure that nobody finds out who she is. she might be adopted, but she is his daughter. they do not fight, instead have a very heated conversation about her and the frost giants. they do fight, but it’s more about thor wanting to close the bifrost rather than wanting to kill him. she does use her illusion work to try and stop him from closing the bifrost, and is defeated. knowing her plan has thwarted, she does try to stop him, only to be too late. the speach goes mostly the same, but she does not let go. no, she lets herself be rescued by odin and thor. it takes a lot of her to do that, to accept that she needs all the help she can get. it takes a while before anyone can trust her, trust that she does not mean harm, and that she only did what needed to be done. she is apologetic and truly tries to be the best version of herself. tries to ensure that she does not believe her own lies.

it should be noted that who we see talking to fury and eric is NOT loki, it is her half brother, the frost giant.

#𝗆𝗎𝗌𝖾. sylvie laufeydottir #𝗍𝖺𝗀. headcanons #this is going to be a long ass post so just posting by parts

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joachimnapoleon · 4 years ago

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Meet the Bonapartes: Pauline (3/3)

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Following the untimely death of Leclerc, Pauline’s brothers were anxious to find her a new husband--preferably a politically advantageous one. Napoleon had hoped to marry her to Francesco Melzi d’Eril, a wealthy Milanese nobleman who had just become the Vice President of the Italian republic (Napoleon himself being the president), but Melzi respectfully declined. On August 28, 1803, Pauline was married to twenty-eight-year-old Don Camillo Filippo Ludovico Borghese, Prince of Sulmon and of Rossano, Duke and Prince of Guastalla, who, in the words of Hortense de Beauharnais, “was not particularly clever but good-looking and who possessed a great fortune in Rome.” Napoleon was lukewarm to the match and, like Pauline, quickly came to regard Camillo as “an imbecile” (Napoleon, who adored bestowing derogatory nicknames on people, would also style Camillo as “His Serene Idiot”). The pair had no real chemistry and the marriage turned sour in no time.

[Camillo Borghese]

In the summer of 1804, however, Camillo, still enthralled by his wife’s beauty, commissioned the sculptor Antonio Canova to immortalize Pauline in white marble. Canova was initially reluctant to accept the commission--until he laid eyes on Pauline in person, after which he agreed to begin working on it within a month. To Canova’s suggestion that he depict her as Diana, the virgin huntress, Pauline laughed, saying “No one would believe in my chastity.” She insisted on being portrayed as Venus, the goddess of love.

[Canova’s statue of Pauline as Venus Victrix]

It was in August of 1804 that the relationship between Pauline and Camillo ruptured, and it would remain ruptured seemingly past the point of repair for the next twenty years. On the 14th of August, Dermide, Pauline’s only child with Leclerc, died in Rome after falling ill with a fever. Pauline was in Tuscany at the time, trying to reestablish her poor health. The news was first received by Camillo, who, anticipating his wife’s blame, had it kept from her for several days. “Pauline will regard me with horror!” he declared. “Wasn't it I who wanted her to leave her son in Rome? No doubt he would have died anyway, but she is bound to accuse me of his death.�� Finally, one of Pauline’s attendants was forced to reveal the news after arousing her suspicions. Pauline raged at Camillo as “the butcher of my son” and ordered him out of her sight. The break between them was complete, and quite public. Pauline viciously hinted to her companions that Camillo was impotent, declaring that "to give oneself to Camillo was to give oneself to no one." She showed no interest in attempting to provide him with an heir, and took great delight in humiliating him by embarking on a series of openly flaunted love affairs. For his part, Camillo soon began a long-term affair with a distant cousin, the Duchessa Lante. From this point, Pauline and Camillo would lead mostly separate lives, until the final months of Pauline’s. Having never truly enjoyed Rome, she now grabbed any opportunity she could find to escape it.

In 1805, she began the first of the only two of her numerous affairs in the aftermath of Leclerc’s death in which she showed a legitimate, deep attachment to her lover. While taking the waters at Plombières, she met an artist, the thirty-year-old Comte de Forbin, and fell madly in love with him. Pauline soon made Forbin her chamberlain, so he could be with her constantly. The affair lasted for the next two years and, writes Pauline’s biographer Margery Weiner,

was so intense, passionate and almost fatal because her obsession with him was so great that she declined visibly, although nothing would persuade her to detach herself from him; no doubt in temperament Forbin had much in common with Murat.

[The Comte de Forbin]

The eventual decline in her health was so great that a renowned gynecologist, Dr. Hallé, was called in, to consult with Pauline’s personal physician, Peyre. Hallé explained the situation in a letter to Peyre as follows:

Her habitual and constant state is one of uterine excitement and if this state is continued and prolonged it can become alarming. The spasms I saw in her arms were hysteric and so were the headaches. Her general condition is one of exhaustion. I talked to her in general terms about everything which contributed to the uterine irritation and I thought she listened to me but I'm afraid not sufficiently. One cannot always make douches responsible and one must suppose that in a young, pretty, sensitive and solitary woman, who is visibly fading away, there is a constant cause for this decline. Whatever this cause is it is time and more than time to eliminate it.

Napoleon was greatly displeased by the stories reaching him in Paris of his sister’s behavior in Rome. “Do not count on me for help,” he wrote to her, “if at your age you let yourself be governed by bad advice,” adding that if she continued to quarrel with Camillo, “France will be closed to you.” For good measure, he had their uncle Cardinal Fesch, write to Pauline to tell her, “on my behalf, that she is no longer pretty, that she will be much less so in a few years, and... she should not indulge in those bad manners which the bon ton reproves.”

Pauline’s affair with Forbin ended only when Forbin accepted an appointment in the army--whether at his own request, or at the insistence of Napoleon, remains unclear. Pauline soon moved on to other amusements. While staying in Nice during the winter of 1807-8, a young violinist, Felice Blangini, caught Pauline’s wandering eye. Pauline offered him the post of her chef d’orchestra (she had no orchestra). Blangini was a shy man, of a much humbler station than his predecessor Forbin, and found his suddenly elevation vaguely terrifying. "I knew,” he wrote later, “that the Emperor was kept informed of what his sister did, the names of her intimates.” But he lacked the will to stand up to Pauline, and submitted to being paraded around by her in public. It was with considerable relief on Blangini’s part that the affair was abruptly ended when Napoleon appointed Camillo governor-general of the Transalpine Department of the French Empire, and ordered him and Pauline to travel to Turin together to take up the seat.

Pauline, disgusted at finding herself shackled to Camillo once more, made the journey to Turin as quarrelsome as possible. At one point she reminded her husband "in a not very amiable fashion that he was only governor-general by virtue of being her husband, and that he would be nothing if he had not married the Emperor's sister. Which," recounts Maxime de Villemarest, the secretary who accompanied the pair, "had some truth in it." To which Camillo responded in "the most piteous manner" (in the words of de Villemarest) with cries of "Paulette! Paulette!"

By mid-1808 she had already found a way to escape from Camillo and Turin (she insisted to Napoleon that the climate was bad for her health) and was back in France once more. Added to her delight was an increase of her income by Napoleon to six hundred thousand francs, a sum that Napoleon rendered off-limits to Camillo. In Paris she presided regularly over balls and cercles, and in no time had resumed her position as one of the central figures in Parisian society. In the words of one of her neighbors, Stanislas de Girardin,

Pauline Borghese was then in the full brilliance of her beauty. Men pressed about her to admire her, to pay court. And she enjoyed this homage as her due. In the glances she exchanged with some of them, indeed, there was a recognition of past favors granted or hints of romance to come. Few women have savored more the pleasure of being beautiful.

She was one of the few people in whom Napoleon found comfort following his divorce with Josephine--an event which pleased Pauline greatly--in December of 1809. She was less pleased at Napoleon’s choice for a new bride--the teenage archduchess Marie-Louise--and sulked with her sisters over having to carry the bride’s train at the imperial wedding. The Countess Potocka has left this innuendo-laden description of Pauline from around this time (the italics are hers):

Princess Pauline Borghese was a type of classical beauty to be found in Greek statues. Despite the things she did which hastened the ravages of time, in the evening, by the aid of a little artifice, she captured all suffrages, and not a woman would have dared to dispute her the apple which Canova awarded her after unveiled contemplation, as it was said. To the most delicate and regular features imaginable she added an admirable figure too often admired. Thanks to so many graces, her wit passed unnoticed; nothing but her gallantries were spoken of, and certainly they gave plenty of matter for discussion.

After brief liaisons with Russian general Prince Alexander Tchernitcheff and Polish general (and future Marshal) Józef Poniatowski, Pauline embarked on her second of the two aforementioned love affairs in which she genuinely seems to have fallen for her partner. This time, her lover was a young hussar from Berthier’s staff named Jules de Canouville, who became fiercely devoted to her. At Pauline’s request, Napoleon made de Canouville a baron, but the young man (and his affair with Pauline) soon incurred the Emperor’s wrath. Napoleon sent him to Marshal Masséna in Spain, bearing dispatches (and a secret order to Masséna to keep the young man in Spain until further notice). It didn’t go quite as Napoleon had planned. Pauline’s biographer Fraser describes de Canouville’s journey:

Even in the midst of this duty, de Canouville thought only of Pauline. Knowing that, with her, to be absent was to be soon forgotten, he covered 170 relays at a gallop, a distance of over seven hundred miles, and arrived a few days later, covered in mud, at headquarters in Salamanca. There he learned that the supply lines to Portugal were cut and resolved to return the next day to Paris with the news, rather than pursue his quarry further. An hour without Pauline, he said, was a desert, and he whiled away the evening while telling all who would listen that Napoleon had charged him with his mission only by way of vengeance.

[Jules de Canouville]

In 1812, he departed with the Grande Armée for Russia, where he served on the staff of Pauline’s brother-in-law Murat, who kept Pauline apprised of de Canouville’s whereabouts--and also informed her of his death at the battle of Borodino on 7 September. News of de Canouville’s death hit Pauline hard. “Apparently this braggart cavalier,” writes Fraser, “with his joie de vivre and optimism, had touched in Pauline some chord that her other, more sophisticated lovers had not. Weeks later Pauline's librarian and confidant Ferrand wrote: 'She does nothing but cry, she doesn't eat, and her health is altered.'"

She remained at Nice throughout 1813 and into 1814, her health continuing to decline, and her anxieties over the future of her brother’s reign mounting. She made efforts to prepare her finances for any potential catastrophe that might befall the family, but evinced no concern for her personal safety. When Napoleon was finally defeated and forced to abdicate in April of 1814, Pauline prepared to join him in exile on the island of Elba--after first going to Naples. She stayed in Naples from June through October, residing in a villa loaned to her during this period by her sister Caroline, the Queen of Naples, and reportedly helping to broker a reconciliation between Napoleon and the Murats, though there is no trace of any correspondence between Napoleon and his brother-in-law from this period. She also worked to quickly sell off her remaining properties in France, rather than risk having them sequestered by the Bourbons. Her final property, Neuilly--formerly belonging to the Murats--was sold to the British government, to serve as the residence of the newly-appointed ambassador to the court of Louis XVIII, the Duke of Wellington.

Pauline finally joined Napoleon on Elba in November of 1814, the only one of his siblings to do so. Her presence delighted Napoleon, and this delight in turn gave renewed life in the British tabloids to the long-recurring rumors of an affair between Napoleon and Pauline. At any rate, Napoleon soon began to fall into a state of depression, which Pauline worked to cure by arranging various balls and other entertainments to keep him occupied. She apparently attempted to coax multiple generals into affairs on Elba, and was turned down repeatedly, and Napoleon’s Mameluke servant Ali was highly critical of her conduct. Displeased with Napoleon’s plans to escape the island and return to France, she confided to Marchand both a diamond necklace for Napoleon to sell if he needed money, and her fear that she would never see her brother again. She was proven correct.

When it became known that the Allies intended to exile Napoleon to Saint Helena after his defeat at Waterloo, Pauline wrote to the Pope to request asylum in Rome. It was granted (partly on account of her brother Louis, now residing there himself, arguing on her behalf) and she made the journey in October. Like the rest of the Bonaparte siblings, she would remain, until the death of Napoleon, under heavy surveillance by multiple governments. The further intervention of the Pope ended a dispute between Camillo and Pauline which enabled Pauline to return to the Palazzo Borghese. Pauline received many British visitors here while Napoleon was on Saint Helena, and tried to charm as many influential Whigs as she could, knowing that they were sympathetic to Napoleon’s situation. As the years passed, reports of Napoleon's deteriorating health caused Pauline great anxiety, affecting her own health in turn. Visitors described her as "much altered" and "grown thin." The Canova statue--and its obvious contrast with her own now diminished figure--suddenly brought about in her a marked insecurity, to the point where Pauline eventually asked Camillo not to show it off to visitors anymore, using the absurd excuse that "the nudity of the statue approaches indecency."

News of Napoleon's death in 1821 left Pauline both heartbroken and outraged. As she had following the death of Dermide, she lashed out for a scapegoat, finding it this time in the English people as a whole. “I have made a vow to receive no more of the English. Without exception they are all butchers." To Hortense she wrote, "I cannot accustom myself to the idea that I will never see him again. I am in despair. Adieu. For me life has no more charm, all is finished."

She fell deathly ill in Rome in late 1823, but recovered enough to continue to charm visitors and dance at soirees again the following year. Another reconciliation was affected with Camillo (this one also via the Pope), and Pauline moved back into the Palazzo Borghese--this time for good--in 1824. Surprisingly, their relationship seemed at last to be taking a genuinely positive turn, even inspiring a local poet “to write an ode on the subject of their matrimonial felicity."

In the spring 1825, Pauline's health began to fail for the final time. She suffered greatly--her bedchamber woman writing later that Pauline had been in pain for over eighty days. Her last letter was written to her brother Louis in Rome on 13 May 1825. "I do nothing but vomit and suffer, I am reduced to a shadow. They are repairing the street and I can't stand the awful noise. The Prince is going to take a villa in the suburbs here where we shall spend the month of May. It is impossible in the state in which I am to think of going to the villa in Lucca.... Embrace Mamma and I send a thousand good wishes to the family. I am ill, ill, but I embrace you." She also confirmed herself as a devout Catholic. "I die without any feelings of hatred or animosity against anyone, in the principles of the faith and doctrine of the apostolic church, and in piety and resignation." She died on 9 June 1825; a stomach tumor was attributed as her cause of death, as it had been for her father.

“Her greatest quality,” writes Margery Weiner, “was hidden except from those who knew her best; lovable herself, she was capable of the greatest devotion.... Not as Queen of Hearts, not as a woman given over to frivolity, narcissism and promiscuity should Pauline Bonaparte be remembered, but as a perfect example of a devoted and loving sister.”

***

Sources:

Broers, Michael. Napoleon: Soldier of Destiny. 2014.

Broers, Michael. Napoleon: The Spirit of the Age, 1805-1810. 2018.

De Beauharnais, Hortense. The Memoirs of Queen Hortense, Vol I (ebook, 2016)

Fraser, Flora. Venus of Empire: The Life of Pauline Bonaparte, 2009.

Roberts, Andrews. Napoleon: A Life. 2014.

Stryienski, Casimir (ed.), Memoirs of Countess Potocka, 1900.

Weiner, Margery. The Parvenue Princesses: Elisa, Pauline, and Caroline Bonaparte. 1964.

#Meet the Bonapartes #Pauline Bonaparte #Napoleon #Napoleon Bonaparte #Joachim Murat #Jules de Canouville #Camillo Borghese #Louis Bonaparte #history #19th century

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