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fanaticsnail · 2 months

Text

Two More Times

Masterlist Here

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Word Count: 4,300+

Synopsis: A meet up with a beautiful Captain has you feeling unworthy of being by Shanks' side as his partner. Shanks does not like being ignored - he wants to showcase his pretty girl sat on his knee. He reminds you of your importance to him, while punishing you for behaving like a brat. His brat.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, p in v, afab!reader, dom!shanks x brat!reader, overstimulation, Shanks begs a little bit, Shanks is a hypocrite, prolonged eye contact, inappropriate use of mirrors, has plot I swear.

Notes: This little fic was brought to you by Aussie shenanigans write night while nursing mutual hangovers. A gift for and beta-read by @sordidmusings.

Tag List: @writingmysanity, @feral-artistry, @gingernut1314

The searing burn of a scorched gaze had been fixed on your body all night long. The feel of the attention on your back as you departed, the focus pinpointed on your face as you entered; the gaze wanting so desperately to meet with your own searching within your eyes - eyes that you refused to return the longing expression to find purchase against his rust-coloured orbs.

No illusion, nor discrepancy, had you hold any disillusion that this man - the captain of the Red-Hair Pirates, was completely smitten with you. The way he was such a gentleman for you: ordering your drinks at the tavern, ensuring you were the first to cross the threshold into a room by holding the door ajar, his body always finding itself thrust between you and harm's way. He was a captain: a man of great myth and fierce legend. His legacy will live on forever by his works and deeds alone. And he wanted you, he desired you.

He was with you.

You desired to be by his side fingertips granting warmth to one another through presence in proximity, the almost brush of your lips meeting as your eyes glazed over. Your bodies almost always found each other in one form or another, but tonight, you were yet to clasp the final link in the heavy chains binding you physically to one another.

The small, insignificant thing holding you back from committing to the bit; returning his gaze and advances, was the pang clashing harshly against your ribcage and desire rolling off your body in waves. This meeting with a potential Nakama for the Red-Hair Pirates; a captain as beautiful in appearance as she was in nature had you feeling inadequate and unworthy of harboring the affections of a man such as Shanks. He was yours, and you were his through and through - but she?

Oh, she? She was spectacular.

Instead of being Shanks’ loyal partner by his side, you engaged with your crew ensuring their drinks always remained topped up while lying idle in conversing with the new allied crew. Making polite conversation with the Nakama crew came incredibly naturally to you. You had a knack for making all those around feel special and cared for, a skillset Shanks greatly appreciated in you.

As you maneuvered your way around Lucky Roux and Lime-Juice to meet your interlaced hands at the bar top counter, those eyes you were avoiding burned you with the same intensity you had been feeling all night. Eyes you knew should hold their intense focus in the meeting with the potential Nakama captain in front of him. You flicked your hair over your shoulder, checking on your crew while sparing a fleeting glance at your redheaded captain through your peripherals.

His rust-coloured orbs sat unblinking and hyperfocused on your body; exactly where they shouldn’t be to ensure the meeting went smoothly. Regardless of how desperately you desired to saunter over to Shanks, quietly reprimand him in his ear with a small kiss on his cheekbone, and flee without another word: you held back to allow him space to discuss the intricacies of the meeting space with the foreign captain.

Shanks was incredibly upset about your absence at his side. He wanted his pretty girl to sit on his knee whispering praises and playful jests into his ear. He wanted to look up into your face, smiling his broad dopey grin as his pretty girl was on display for all to see.

Instead he sat, cradling his chin in his hand and ignoring this captain he knew he should be paying his undivided attention to. But his attention did remain divided, held completely transfixed by your surliness and the subtle swing of your hips as you leant against the bar. His every sense swelled with desire to have, hold and showcase his pretty girl in front of this captain - her own attention fleeting as she held her undivided gaze on a member of her own crew.

“Something on your mind, Red-Hair?” she asked him, watching intently as her first mate approached the bar beside you. Shanks was finally roused from his hold of contact on your back, to float to the man the captain beside him held her attention against.

“Have you ever been in love?” Shanks uttered, smiling as he elevated his tankard to his lips. The woman beside him chuckled, looking down to her own drink and swirling her index finger over the rim.

“I am in love, Captain,” she confessed, claiming her glass in her hands with her fingertips gripping the rim; her index finger gesturing to the man beside you at the bar, “My first-mate and I have been in a relationship for quite some time. He continuously thinks himself unworthy of my affection, which is completely and utterly ridiculous.”

“I completely understand,” Shanks said, his smile stretching over his lips and up to the peaks of his eyes, “My pretty girl is at the bar next to who I assume your first-mate be.” The captains both take a moment to watch their spouses ignore them, both engaging in polite conversation and clinking cups against one anothers.

“They’ve been awfully quiet while we’re in our meeting, wouldn’t you say Shanks?” her brow quirked at her question. Shanks grunted out a small ‘aye’ in response, holding his eyes once more over you as you began to sway to the music swelling from the band in the corner. After a few moments of silence, both captains began to turn their smiles up into smirks as their eyes darkened.

“A small amount of reminding them of their importance to us would be in order, do you agree?” her tone quirked at the corner alongside the elevation of her lips. Shanks huffed a laugh into the rim of his tankard, the playfulness returning to swirl with the darkness within his twinkling eyes.

“Aye, that I can agree on,” he admitted with a small nod. The foreign captain’s first-mate glanced over his shoulder and their eyes finally met. The first-mate visibly shuddered beneath the woman’s gaze, anticipation wracking through his body at the promise of what’s to come.

“It seems we have far more in common than we initially thought, Captain,” she nodded, rising to her feet and placing her empty glass on the table. “I shall see you in future, Red-Hair. May our newfound Nakama flourish.” Shanks nodded politely, watching the aura this captain seemed to hold over her crew. With a simple brush of her fingertips on the back of her first mate, his brows upturned and he obediently followed her exit through the threshold of the tavern door.

And there you were: finally alone, isolated and waiting for him.

You felt a firm hand clasp the back of your neck, tugging at the flesh and turning your head to face the presence behind you. Squeaking out a small whimper of shock, your lips met with your red-haired captain as he pressed a bruising kiss against your startled mouth.

His lips moved expertly, the hum of his voice pressed its rumbled vibration into your mouth. His brows furrowed in deep concentration, his nose sucking in an elongated breath. Rolling his tongue over his lips, he sought yours out and brushed the organ against it slowly and deliberately.

Whistles, hollers, cheers and snickers from the Red-Hair pirates had Shanks smiling into the shameless kiss; the firm grip of his hand on the scruff of your neck rendering you helpless to do nothing but take the affection he was pressing against you. A sign of the promised punishment your present surliness held for you in your future.

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

The rough slaps and quickened snaps of your hips meeting with his echoed within the small room. You tried to halt your soft sobs and whimpers from overstimulation, eyes tightly shut and tears pricking at the corners as you rode him.

"No," his voice commanded you softly. You felt his hand travel up from your thigh to rest on your face, thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek.

Regardless of his verbal command, you continued your quickened pace: the heat of your walls sucking in his shaft at the same elevated rhythm you set earlier.

He was yet to climax, and you had been at this for hours. He had your peak rise and fall for the upteenth time by his lips, tongue, thigh and fingers: each time, the lights dancing behind your eyes and the soft call of his name cried from your lips.

You were desperate for him to cum. You wanted to have him share in the same bliss he had offered you so many times earlier today, the shoots of his seed buried deep within you with your name spilled as recklessly from his lips as yours did his.

"No," he commanded once more, your relentless pace you set continued ceaselessly. You continued bouncing your body and sheathing yourself fully on his cock, feeling the twitch hitting against the top of your cervix.

You knew he would cum like this, and you wanted him to feel his release just as he had you reach yours. You continued hastily riding him, him granting you a shuddered groan growling from between his clenched teeth. You felt him close, the small quiver of his cock depicting truly how thoroughly he was enjoying your hasty pace. Just as you felt him near his release, you expected him to fuck up into you, burying himself deeper and writhing beneath you as he came.

Instead, his arm trailed down from your cheek, shoulder and hips: hooking around your body and holding you fully sheathed on his cock, halting your movement entirely.

"P-Please," you whimpered, your pace fully halted by his firm arm. The twitch of his cock at your plea had you continue, "I-I-’s too much. W-Want you to feel good. P-Please Captain."

The twitch of his cock granted you the telltale sign that he halted his orgasm from shooting up into you. He lazily rolled his hips into yours, the grind of his pelvis meeting your clit and caused another cry from fleeing your lips.

"You can take it," he whispered, rolling his hips against yours; his buried cock twitching once more, and stretching you deliciously. Your arousal coated his pubic hair and tops of his thighs, the wrap of his arm halting your every movement with the incredible strength he held you with.

"Captain I-I-," you tried, Shanks halting your cry by sitting up while remaining still within you. You snapped your eyes open to meet his, the warm rust of his irises held a foreign emotion depicted behind them. One you had not seen for some time: overall unreadable, but not an unwelcome flavor painted on his face.

You knew you had been a tease to him earlier today. The swing of your hips, the twitch of your smirk and the looks you shot him over your shoulder were enough to warrant him clawing out climax after climax from you as punishment. Your surliness was his undoing: your refusal to acknowledge his eyes by meeting yours against them.

As his eyes met yours now, and this new position held his cock buried deeper; his gaze no longer held that punishing brutality mixed playfulness he offered you earlier. This foreign expression you had yet seen depicted in his gaze, his words not speaking its unconfirmed intention. It was no longer the aggressive, lustful look he always threw at you during the bedroom hours, mixing with his boyish charm and humor.

His eyes were dark, a hue of pink flushing his cheeks with a dusting of heat. Lips parted, eyes searching between yours as his breath caught in his throat. The closest you could place this expression was compared to ‘awe,’ but that was still not entirely correct.

He began rocking you atop his lap, slow grinds of his pelvis and throbbing pulses from his cock bringing another pleasured whimper from your throat. He continued to hold your gaze, his lips parting as a slow groan fled his lips. The quiver of his jaw, the flutter of his eyelashes, and blown pupils darting its focus on your eyes held more emotion than you were used to seeing.

"You can take it," he gasped again, "I know you can, pretty girl." You whimpered once more, feeling the slow rake of his cock pull itself out before burying it again deep within you.

"Jus' want you to feel good. P-Please let me make you feel good," you cried once more, the swell of your exhausted tears within your eyes spurred Shanks' smile to rise against his lips.

He halted his rocking all together, his forehead falling forward to meet against your collar bone. You cried out at his halt, desperately attempted to start your pace once more - his arm halting you by the sheer strength he held alone.

"Just want you to cum. I’ll be so good. Please, Shanks. Please, please, please. Need it-... N-Need you-," your cries were answered by the surge of his hips and thighs propelling themselves forward, throwing your back to hit against the plush mattress.

This small resurgence of his playfulness returning had your prior desperation for him morph into a laugh of joy - a sound mirrored by his own soft laugh.

He propped himself up by his hand lying beside your head. As his cock slowly buried itself once more within you; mutual groans, mixed with laughter and sighs, joined together harmoniously. He sunk his weight onto your hips, his full weight halted it's descent by him angling down onto elbow beside your head. His hand began brushing your hair from your face, his playful smile never leaving his lips.

He lunged forward, sheathing his cock completely within you and holding himself firmly there.

His smile approached you, capturing your lips within his and brushing his tongue over your parted lips to brush against your own - his smile never leaving his lips. Pulling away his claim on your lips, he began slowly rocking his hips against yours, gasping at the feeling of your walls sucking him in further.

"You're so desperate to feel me cum, love?" He asked you, the uptick of his voice and soft huff of laugh colliding with a sinful groan fleeing him, "You should've thought of that before behaving like a brat."

You whimpered out a cry of bliss as his sheathed cock brushed with your g-spot, the slow, rhythmic slap of his hips colliding deeply with yours slowly echoing once more within the room.

"No, love," he growled into your ear, successfully caging you beneath him with the hover of his body, "No. You don't get to feel me cum until I bring out another two from you. No cry of mercy or relentless fucking up into me will have me cum in you-."

You cried as a particularly harsh snap of his hips had his weight topple down onto you. His pace quickened, the wind of the coil within your stomach began its tightening once more.

The feel of being completely trapped beneath the weight of his body, the only movement breaking your entrapment away from his body was the small rise and fall of his hips harshly fucking into you slowly and deliberately.

You groaned, arching your back and writhing as you felt your toes and fingertips begin to quiver at the approach of your climax. Shanks chuckled into your shoulder, his teeth slowly clamping down on the tender flesh and soothing over the bite with his tongue.

"That's it, pretty girl," he complimented you, slowly picking up the pace of his thrusting, "You've finally realized, huh?" You whimpered, the depth of his cock brushing up against you and the pick up of his pace held your mind fuzzy and jaw slack.

"You're stuck," he growled against you, "And you're going to remain helpless and stuck through two more before I cum in you. Make no mistake, love-..." he continued to elevate his pace, the depth of his cock sinking into you brutally.

"I will cum for you, pretty girl," his promise felt hot in your ear, scorching you as his gaze did earlier in the evening, "But not until I make you scream for me two more times."

You whimpered, the slow and deep pace he set now deliberately scraping against the tender spot within you. This new set of rhythm had your lips parting and walls condensing and squeezing against his cock. He huffed a small grunt against your ear, eyes rolling at the feeling. Wrapping your legs over his hips, you keened into his shoulder at the slow intwine of another elevation of your approaching climax.

“There you go. Atta girl. I can feel how close you are,” He struck you with his cock, repetitively hitting the sensitive part by hooking his cock expertly within you, “C’mon now, pretty little thing. Let me hear you cry out for me.” You scrunch your eyes tightly shut, feeling the familiar buzz starting within your toes behind his back.

Slowly pulling away his hips from your own, resheathing his cock back into you deliberately had your walls shifting and quivering for him as you cried his name through your bliss. He claimed another orgasm from you, the tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes by how tightly you clenched them shut. He pulled his face away from your shoulder, huffing in your ear before glancing at your face contorted in pleasure.

“No, no, no, pretty girl. Open your eyes,” he slumped on his elbow, soothing over forehead and removing the hair stuck to your brow. You shook your head, physically unable to open your eyes as he shepherded you through your bliss. “Hey, hey. Open. Now.” You arched your back, your head falling away from his as you kept your eyes shut.

“Alright then,” he uttered, feeling your high fall as you regained some semblance of your consciousness back through panting and deeply sighing. Your momentary calm was seized by the storm raging within Shanks, him unsheathing his cock from you and throwing you over his right shoulder and walking towards the tall mirror. The bob of his hard cock from each step he took had a proud smile on his face and a chuckle fleeing from his lips.

Unceremoniously, he placed your feet back onto the ground, facing the mirror and lined his cock back up with your quivering and overstimulated hole.

“This is what you get for being a brat and not listening, pretty girl,” he laughed into your shoulder, immediately surging forward and plunging his cock deep within you, “Keep your eyes open and watch.”

He hooked his arm around your right hip, claiming your left hip bone beneath his palm and anchoring himself against you. Kicking your feet to part further, you had no choice but to watch his face contort within the metallic, silvery reflection as he fucked into you. The cries of your voice muffled as you took your bottom lip between your teeth.

“No. You let me hear you,” Shanks’ breathy voice whispered against your skin as he pressed his cheek against your shoulder blade. He scrunched his eyes closed and focussed on your gasps, cries and moans. You obediently unclenched your teeth from your lip, brows knitting as you whined his name repeatedly and ceaselessly.

He groaned into your skin, baring his teeth down on your flesh to silence his own whimpered growls. The quiver of your walls sucking his cock within them had Shanks opening his eyes only to roll them back into his skull at the sensation. The grip on your hip bone held on firmer, his rhythmic thrusts and grinds becoming slopier, heavier and staggered. He was so close, closer than he would ever admit to you at this moment.

Your abdomen began to burn beneath his bruising grip, the sensation of being trapped and helpless to him using your body in this way stoked the fires into a blaze of passionate release as he chased your climax. He held your body against his, the pick up of his rhythmic thrusting within the security of his arm had your lips parting. Your overstimulated and fucked-out expression within the mirror had Shanks chasing the spots that had you crying for him the loudest.

“Good job keeping your eyes open, pretty girl,” he praised you, his tone prompting a high whimper to pass from your parted lips. The slaps of slickened thighs and hips became louder and heavier; Shanks now opting to no longer pull all the way out of you while chasing his own high. His knob brushed its shined tip against the back of your quivering and tingling walls, your cervix being kissed with each deep thrust. You cried out for him, standing on the tops of your toes and arching your back for him to get a better angle with his cock sheathed within you.

“You better c-cum,” He stuttered against your shoulder. The hitch in his breath and the whimper within his tone alerted you that he was once again so close to his climax. He continued to chase your release, but was unable to fully tip you over the edge just like this.

“Play with your clit,” he ordered you, watching you over your shoulder as your dominant hand sought your firm, leaking bud. “Th-That’s it-... nghm-... That’s my girl. Play with yourself while you take my cock. Little circles, pretty girl. Little circles while I fuck you through it.” You had no choice but to listen, your fingertips brushing with your aching clit while exhaustion overtook you.

“Good girl,” he whined into your ear, his eyes meeting with yours while he watched you obediently play with your clit while he stuffed you roughly with his cock. Just his expression alone would’ve made you cum: his brows tilted up, pupils blown with list as his jaw hung slack. But the overstimulation was too much for you to continue. You whined, unable to push yourself over the edge for him as he requested you.

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growled, watching as your hand began to halt its ministrations against your aching clit. “Make me proud, little thing. Cum on my cock and I’ll let you have mine. C’mon pretty girl. Cum on my cock again. J-Just like you did before. Cum for me, cum for me-.”

“A-Ah, Shanks!” you cried in bliss, his voice falling from your open mouth like a scream. Your arousal gushed around his cock as you came for him, your walls attempting to milk his cock of the precum he began to paint you with.

“G-Good girl. Such a good girl,” he praised you, continuing his bruising pace while you watched him huff out his own cries of bliss, “Now you’ll get my cum. I-I’m-...mmff-... O-Oh, I’m cumming. I’m cumming for you. F-Fuck.” Ropes of his long withheld load splashed within you, the sheer force and amount prompting your shiny juices to pool down your legs as you both cried for one another. He roared your name, biting your shoulder with the clamp of his teeth over your flesh.

As he rode you through your highs, tears began to pool down your cheeks at the sheer relief of earning his orgasm. You sobbed, body falling limp as he carried you back to the bed. He unsheathed his cock from you and caged you beneath his body, searching your face for any issue that ignited this release of emotion.

“Are you okay, love? Did I hurt you? What did I do?” he asked, wiping a tear with his thumb as you met his eyes with your own. You shook your head, angling your chin away from the brush of his thumb and pressing a small kiss against the pad of the shorter digit. He gasped, his boyish smile returning to his face while his eyes held that unfamiliar expression within them. He huffed out a breath, soothing over your hair as he whispered into your face.

��I am so in love with you, pretty girl. My pretty girl,” he confessed, closing his eyes and nudging your chin with his forehead. Your lips parted in shock, this being the first time either of you uttered the words remaining unspoken between you. You attempted to find the words to speak back to him, your voice cracking harshly from the amount of cries he pulled from you in your bliss.

“You don’t have to say it, love. I know, I know,” he confessed further, leaning up to press a firm kiss against your forehead. “You just lay back and relax while I clean up our mess, alright?”

You weakly nodded, laying back completely against the mattress as exhaustion overcame your body. Sleep claimed you, soft and deep breaths propelling each moment for more rest to find you.

As Shanks returned to your place on the bed, he sighed at the beautiful picture you made painted against his sheets. His pretty girl was all tired from the amount of times he made you cum, exhausted with the softest rise of heat within your cheeks.

The next time you felt inadequate and undeserving of such treatment and attention, he would be so glad to provide you with the reminder of your importance in his life. He began to look forward to a longer and more worshipful way of showing you how much he truly loved you, and only you.

He began cleaning up the mess he made of your bodies, maneuvering a warm cloth over every mark and splash of fluids and hungry kisses. He dried your body with a plush towel before tucking you into the bedsheets, crawling in them behind you and lacing his right arm over your hip and pulling you closer.

“I love you,” he whispered against your neck, you stirring slightly within your slumber, “And I’ll happily remind you of how much I do any time you think I don’t.”

#one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #one piece live action #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #shanks smut #shanks x reader smut #red hair shanks x reader #op shanks #one piece shanks #op smut #one piece smut

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milswrites · 2 months

Text

Hobbies Part 10.

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: In an attempt to keep Azriel away from Elain, Rhys sends him on a sabbatical to the Day Court. With a lot more free time on his hands Azriel needs to find something to keep him occupied. Unfortunately he meets Y/N who has the annoying habit of not staying away. Can she teach him that there’s more to life than he thought?

Grumpy!Azriel X Sunshine!Reader

Series masterlist

Warnings: None? Maybe a little bit of suggestiveness 😏😏

Azriel was terrified. His palms sweating uncontrollably, causing him to constantly brush them against his cobalt tunic in the hope of hiding his nerves. This was it. His second chance, his redo of the already perfect first date to prove to his mate just how much she meant to him. The date he hoped would consolidate the bond between them, either snapping into place for the unaware woman naturally or if that failed to occur, Azriel would have to pluck up the courage to tell her himself.

That was if he didn’t blurt the words into her face the very moment he sees her next. Azriel was already having to forcefully swallow down the words which were crawling up his throat, an unwanted tickle that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he cleared his throat.

He was practicing to himself, whispering under his breath as he tried to formulate exactly how he’d like to tell her if it comes to it. Not wanting to mess it up if the moment arrives, afraid of being rendered speechless when it does. Azriel also prayed to the cauldron that this practice, the utters of love and devotion on his lips, would ensure that he didn’t just scream ‘mate’ at her the moment she opened her door. The last thing he wanted after finally coming so close to the happiness he had always dreamed of, was to scare her away and further embarrass himself in the process.

So here he was mumbling away to himself as he sat outside the small cottage Y/N had been staying in whilst working in the Day Court village. His desire to be alone with her without the curious gaze of the villagers, had almost driven Azriel to shoot up into the sky to escape them. Y/N wrapped securely in his arms, as he brought them to a location where it could be just the two of them. Y/N, however, had felt his change in demeanour - no doubt he had passed his emotions through the bond she didn’t even know was there - and begged the male for just a little bit of time to freshen up and send Helion a message explaining where she was going.

In hindsight, Azriel was grateful for her slight delay. Having realised that in his frantic efforts to find Y/N, he hadn’t even had time to think about what he was going to do and where he would take her. He had been driven by pure instinct. Even now his senses were only just starting to trickle back as Azriel rushed to come up with a plan.

A quick message to Rhysand, the passing of a mental image of what he needed and a promise that he would explain why later, and the date was planned. So now Azriel didn’t just have to worry about the growing anxiety in anticipation of the night ahead, but also the terrifying prospect of having to go home and explain everything that had unfolded over the past few weeks to his clueless family. Though the thought of telling his brothers that he too had finally found his other half did send a wave of joy through Azriel.

Finally, the sharp click of a handle turning rang out, drawing Azriel from his worried state. His eyes flickered towards the source of the sound and instantly a wave of calm washed over his body, mind clearing of all anxiety as he laid his golden eyes upon the heavenly woman before him in awe. And the world stopped.

~~~~~

Azriel could have been told it was the Mother herself before him and he would have believed it. The soft glow Y/N radiated due to the burning ember of the sun setting gave her the appearance of a goddess. A soft halo of light surrounding her as if she had been painted by some higher power.

And her dress. A flowing delight of warm yellows and gold, sparkling as if the swirling golden thread was made of pure sunlight, and that was exactly what she was. The bright sun in Azriel’s dull world. The ethereal light that shone from her pure soul was enough to keep the darkness at bay, to command Azriel’s shadows to bow down before the celestial woman before him.

Azriel who had spent the past few months wondering why the cauldron didn’t match him with Elain now saw the truth standing before his very eyes, as he wondered how it was possible that he didn’t notice the bond sooner. Y/N had been created for him just as he had been for her. A perfectly matched antithesis. Light and dark. Day and night. And Azriel would spend the rest of his life grateful to the cauldron for making this force of a woman his mate.

“Azriel?” A concerned Y/N who had been trying to get the males attention broke his silent worship of her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful in the whole of Prythian”

And he meant it, not even all the stars in the night sky would ever compare to the beauty that is Y/N.

She blushed, a sweet pink blush that perfectly complimented the tone of her shimmering dress. “And I,” she smiled shyly up at the male, eyes hidden underneath her fluttering lashes, “I have never seen a man so handsome, that he looked as if he had been carved by the cauldron itself.”

He gently took her hand which was resting loosely by her side, lifting it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss to her skin, a matching blush dusted across his own cheeks.

“So what exciting plans do you have for me this time?” Y/N smiled brightly as she spoke, a smile which made Azriel’s knees tremble weakly and his heart skip a beat as it pulsed ferociously in his chest. He would be lying if he said her smile didn’t make him feel a certain way.

“ We,” Azriel started, hovering his warm lips close to Y/N’s until he could feel the breath leaving her mouth, lips grazing against each others as he continued to speak, “are going to another court. I can’t deny you of your need to see the world any longer.” He closed the space between them, connecting their lips firmly as Y/N squealed in excitement at the prospect of visiting another court. Her joyous smile so wide that Azriel reluctantly had to pull away from the kiss. But he was glad he did, for the image of Y/N’s earth-shattering smile as she looked up at him, dressed in gold, was enough to top the memory he had preserved of her standing in the garden all those weeks ago.

“Hold on tight” he warned, pulling her in by her waist until she was tight against his chest in a soothing embrace, Azriel’s lips brushing softly against her neck as his shadows consumed them.

~~~~~

Y/N gasped as the cool flakes of falling snow kissed her cheeks as they materialised in the Winter Court. An amazed wonder on her face as she took in her surroundings. The thick blanket of velvet snow which covered the ground. The glistening branches of the fur trees, bending gently with the weight of the icy powder. And the most beautiful view of all, the crystalline patterns which weaved over the frozen lake, icy branches appearing as though they were delicately painted by hand.

“It’s…magnificent” she stared, silvery tears lining her shining eyes. “Yeah, it is” Azriel replied, his loving eyes failing to leave her face, not bothering to look at what she was speaking of. A subtle shiver, from a not very appropriately dressed Y/N, caused Azriel to tear his eyes from her frame to search for the bag of goods he had asked Rhysand to drop off, praying the male had done what was asked of him.

Locating the bag, he willed himself to leave Y/N’s shaking side to go and pull out the cloak he had requested inside. His hands settling over the thick material as he removed it from the bag, a cloak of Night Court black. Azriel swept the item over Y/N’s shoulders, hands moving to fasten the golden clasp at the neck before uncontrollably drifting up to her watching face, his thumb running slowly over her lip. Admiring how even adorned in the darkest of shades, Y/N still shone brighter than any star in the sky. Nothing could dim her light.

“There’s more!” Azriel cleared his throat quickly, removing his hand as if the touch of her skin had electrocuted him. Fearing what would overcome him if he held onto her for a little bit longer. His body burning warmly even in the cold air, the presence of her body close to his being all the fuel he needed. The sight of her dressed in the colour of his court enough to create a tingling sensation which travelled further south than he’d like to admit.

Azriel distracted himself from this sensation by routing through the bag once more, pulling out two sets of boots, silver blades attached to the bottom of their soles. “I thought we’d try something new” his words came out more anxious than he had intended, now worried that this would be something Y/N had no interest in having never even seen ice before.

“It’s a perfect idea Azriel” she reassured him, a comforting hand resting on his shoulder. And so Azriel helped her slip from her dainty shoes into the warming boots his brother had managed to find him. Tying the laces and letting his hand selfishly drift over her legs for longer than needed.

He then put his own shoes on, stumbling around as he pushed himself up off the floor in the unfamiliar footwear, Y/N’s arms flying out to stabilise him. “Careful” she giggled as he slipped around, “wouldn’t want you to damage that pretty face of yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

~~~~~

To anyone else it would have been a hilarious sight, the spymaster of the Night Court and a girl from Day who had never seen snow, gripping onto each other tightly as they made tiny steps together in their bladed-boots, attempting to reach the edge of the frosty lake. To Azriel, however, this was a moment he would cherish forever.

He was uncomfortable, sure, but he had found his other half and dared to try a new thing by choice and to him, that made him unstoppable. And so despite the blisters already forming as the boots rubbed against his feet, Azriel allowed himself to plaster the widest smile he had ever worn across his face as he pushed off the snow covered ground, skating onto the frozen surface. A giggling Y/N following suit, their hands locked together as they stumbled like newborn deer onto the ice.

They weren’t graceful by any means, there were numerous times where one of them was picking the other off the floor after they had fallen, hearty laughs upon their lips. But they didn’t need to be graceful or fluid, the two moved in a dance that was their own, just like that day in the corridor of his building.

The two performed shaky twirls and uneven spins. If anyone were watching from the rivers edge they would see two ghosts dancing in the mist of the evening, a dark mass shadows copying their movements and curling around the pair. Life and death meeting in the solitude of the Winter Courts wilderness, hidden away from the rest of the world and locked in a never ending dance.

Until the moment was broken by the pick of Azriel’s blade getting caught on an uneven patch of ice. The male went flying, roughly crashing into Y/N and knocking them both breathlessly onto the floor. Just as they had been doing all night when one had fallen, Azriel broke out into a roar of laughter, chest heaving with glee as he howled from where he was leaning over Y/N, arms on either side of her head as they shook.

But Y/N just stared at Azriel in shock. Wide eyes never faltering from his grinning face. At her failure to reciprocate how funny Azriel found this situation he panicked, “What’s wrong!” He cried out into the silence, hands gripping onto her face as his eyes searched her body for any injuries, “Are you hurt?!”

“Mate” Y/N choked out as if winded, disbelief flashing across her face, “You’re my mate!”

If possible an even more surprised expression crossed her face as Azriel beamed a wide smile instead of matching the shock she held at the revelation. He wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, body collapsing on top of hers as he no longer held his weight up, the two tangled together in a loving embrace.

“You’re my mate” he confirmed, planting kisses in every location his lips could reach. “Mine” he couldn’t do anything to stop the world he growled against her skin as he sucked lightly on her neck.

Needing answers, Y/N mustered the strength the push the male away, breathlessly asking, “how long?”

“I didn’t know” Azriel panted, adrenaline spiking in his body at the events which were finally unfolding, “not until I’d gone back home and I put on the tunic. And it just made sense. I should have known all along, you’re my missing half. You’re my mate Y/N and I love you and I shall spend forever loving you as the cauldron intended. Now I have you, I never want to live without you again.”

He pulled her back towards him, continuing his attack of kisses, Y/N seemed satisfied with his answer as she allowed him to continue roughly dragging his lips across the exposed skin of her neck contentedly, humming as he did so at the taste of her.

“My mate” she giggled, testing the sound of it on her lips, Azriel moving his head to kiss the words as they exited her lips, “my beautiful mate. I have felt drawn to you from the minute I laid my eyes on you. I was never supposed to get to know you as well as I did, but I just couldn’t stay away no matter how much I tried. Everything I did, everywhere I went, it all led back to you. Because it’s you Azriel. It’s always been you. My heart calls to you because you’re my home…my mate.”

Azriel would never get tired of hearing her say the words. The words that joined them together through a bond greater than anyone could understand. The bond that meant Azriel belonged to her. The day had had finally come for Azriel to start living his life and the best part about it was that he wouldn’t be doing it alone.

Part 11

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

Notes: I wrote this while sick af so if I come back tomorrow and it’s terrible I’m going to hate myself 😭

I know I said this would be the last chapter before the epilogue but I have one more planned…

Taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @minnieoo @going-through-shit @iluvyewman-blog @laughterafter @amysangel @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @justvibbinghere @honeybeeboobaa @willowpains @tele86 @mysticalfuncollectorus @mybestfriendmademe @starryhiraeth @gorlillaglue25 @moonlwghts @darling006 @anuttellaa @serendipityx150 @xxxalicerogersxx @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @naturakaashi @nyx-the-alien @lostinpages13 @namelesssav @dreamlandreader @fightmedraco @maxmouse001

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel imagine #azriel oneshot #azriel #azriel acotar

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aerynwrites · 6 months

Text

Masquerade of Liars

Dad!Gale x Fem!Reader

A/N: Had to do a little something for Halloween! So i found out Faerun has their own kind of Halloween called Liars Night or Masquerade of Liars. Here’s a link if you want to read more about it, it’s actually super cool! But I also just wanted to write some soft Dad!Gale after so many of you seemed to enjoy that one shot of him finding out reader was pregnant. So hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: reader is referred to as mother/mum.

*not beta read, sorry for any grammatical errors*

The smell of sulfur fills your nose as you strike a match to light the small wax candles before you. You light the wicks before shaking the match to douse the flame, and grabbing one of the lit candles.

“Cassias!” You call, moving to place the light source inside of your son’s pumpkin. “Are you almost ready? We need to go. Gale-!”

Your husband materializes just as you call his name, his lips against your own cutting off your words. You sigh when you pull away, smiling despite yourself as you place the last two candles in the remaining pumpkins.

“Did you help Cas with his costume?” You ask, looking over the carved orange spheres before you, making sure they look alright before you put them outside.

Gale lets out a quiet laugh as he shrugs his shoulders, “I tried, but he could not be swayed to accept my assistance. He wanted to do it himself.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes playfully, “He is definitely your son - stubborn.”

Gale lets out a small scoff, as he steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. “Me? Stubborn? I think he gets that from you, my love.”

You let out a low hum, as you reach up to straighten the collar of his robe, “I suppose he gets it from the both of us.”

Gale smiles. “That’s better,” he says, before leaning in to kiss you again.

You relish in the somewhat quiet moment in your lover’s arms, knowing that the rest of the night will be full of excitement and noise.

The approaching thunder of footsteps coming down the stone steps of the tower make you separate from one another, but not before you press one last kiss to his cheek.

“I’m coming!” You son calls as he barrels down the stairs, nearly tripping over the tail of his costume as he hits the floor.

You instinctively reach out for him, but he’s righted himself before you can help, and you’re unable to stifle the grin that splits your lips as you take in the costume Cassian wears.

He insisted on being a dragon. A red dragon specifically. And it had to have horns, and giant wings.

And well…who were you to deny him?

His mask looked like that of a red dragon, tall pointed black horns rising from the top of it, even pointy teeth peeking out of the creature's mouth. The rest of his costume was just as elaborate, you and Cassian having worked on it for weeks leading up to the Masquerade of Liars. His shirt and pants are lined with hundreds of small metal scales that glint in the candle light. He even has a tale pinned to his pants, which may prove to be more of a hindrance now that you see it dragging the ground.

Even Gale helped with the costume, adding his own magical flare in the form of gentle smoke coming from the mask's mouth as if Cassian could breathe fire.

“Look, father look!” Cassian jumps around in his costume, the scales tinkling softly as he does so and reflecting a beautiful dappled light pattern all through the kitchen.

Gale ‘ooo’s’ and ‘ah’s’ at his son’s costume before picking the child up and smiling at the giggles that pour out from behind the mask.

“You’re just as fearsome as the legendary Ansur of Baldur’s Gate,” Gale tells him seriously before reaching up to tilt the mask up to the top of Cassian's head, revealing his face to you both.

Cassian is basically a spitting image of Gale. Warm brown eyes and dark hair. Gale insists he got your nose though, and your smile, which you’re happy about if not a little begrudging. You carried him for nine months! The least the gods could have done is given him your eyes…

But you wouldn’t change a thing, not really. Cassian has turned into a wonderful child, all chubby cheeks and laughter and kindness. Even now you watch in silent admiration as Cassian talks animatedly with his father. Despite being only six his vocabulary is as big as Gales.

“Are you ready for a night of trickery and lies?” Gale asks, voice dropping to a playfully low octave.

Cassian nods, eyes lighting up. “And candy!”

Glae laughs, moving to set Cassian back on his feet. “And candy of course. Do you have room in your pockets?”

Cassian nods fervently, face serious as he pats both pockets on his costume. “I even have candy in my other pocket so no one steals our coin.”

You stifle a laugh at the seriousness with which Cassian takes the holiday.

Liars night, though now more commonly known as the Masquerade of Liars is a night to pay tribute to the dirties Leira and Mask. While it started centuries ago as a more serious holiday it’s evolved into more of a fun tradition to celebrate the gods.

The particular tradition Cassian is referring to is pickpocketing. It used to be so common back when the holiday was first created that people started keeping candy in their pockets instead of coins - this soon evolved into people taking the candy and leaving behind trinkets or a small note in return.

Now most people just give the candy out, especially to children. But the occasional trinket still makes it into a pocket here or there - and you aren’t about to ruin his fun.

“Very good, Cas!” You praise, turning to face the carved pumpkins once more. “We should be ready to go once we put the pumpkins on the doorstep. Do you want to carry yours?”

“Yes, yes! Can I?” He reaches his hands up expectantly, and you smile, looking over at Gale.

“What do you think, my love?”

Gale nods, a smile matching your own on his face as he takes Cassian’s pumpkins from the counter. “I think a dragon as fearsome as Cassian can carry his own pumpkin to the stoop this year.”

Cassian cheers and takes the pumpkin carefully in his arms, Gale keeping a watchful eye until he’s sure he has a secure hold on it.

You take your pumpkins and Gale takes his as you all move to the front door of the tower, moving slowly to keep the candles lit.

“Be careful Cas,” you say, following close behind. “You don’t want the candle to blow out, remember?”

“I remember, mum,” he says, “It’s bad luck.”

You nod as Gale reaches out with one hand to open the door for all of you, the cool night air kissing your skin. “That’s right.”

You watch as Cassian moves to set his pumpkin at the top of the stairs right next to the door, turning it this way and that until he’s happy with the placement. You and Gale place yours nearby before locking the door and taking Cassian’s hands in your own.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, you all turn to look at the small display, the candles flickering gently in the night. Cassian hops impatiently between you and your husband, his little hands squeezing yours tightly.

“Can we go?” He asks, excitement bleeding into his words.

You chuckle and nod. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to miss the festivities.”

The three of you walk from your home towards Waterdeeps town square. While the night is celebrated throughout the city, most people gather in the square. Vendors set up to sell food or other festive items and children run around trying to collect as much candy as they can in one night. Even the adults partake in the costumes and activities. You and Gale have dressed up in the past, but this year you decided to forgo a disguise.

Cassian chats animatedly as you make your way down the quiet streets, the sounds of celebration getting louder the closer you get to the center of Waterdeep. His steps get more impatient until eventually, both you and Gale are stumbling to keep up with the energetic child as you finally reach your destination.

The square is decorated for the holiday, lanterns hanging all around, and some even floating in the air thanks to some other magic wielders. Autumnal colored banners and draping shirt line the various vendor stalls and the fountain at the center, and lively music fills the square as well.

Cassian breaks away from you and Gale when he spots one of his friends, a little tiefling boy named Allon who looks to be dressed as an owlbear.

Gale laughs as you both follow him, watching as he embraces his friend before gesturing excitedly at their costumes. “I don’t understand where all that energy comes from - it surely doesn’t come from me.”

You let out a chuckle of your own as you stand a few paces back to let Cassian talk to his friend. “That’s just how children are, I’m afraid. But it dies down. Eventually.”

Gale just hums quietly in response, watching your son with adoring eyes as he and Allon take turns roaring at each other.

You remember a time many years ago when Gale told you he didn’t feel like he was father material. Granted it was in the middle of some tumultuous times for everyone, but you had thought he truly meant it. And despite him being overjoyed when you told him you were pregnant with Cassian several years ago you couldn’t help but worry those doubts would creep back in.

But they never did.

Gale took to fatherhood like a fish to water. Despite it being a learning curve for the both of you, he took everything in stride and a new glow settled into his being. Even in his most dour moods from hours of fruitless research or a failed spell experiment, his face would always light up at the sight of his son.

This adoration just seemed to grow as Cassian got older, the boy taking after his father in almost everything. You remember thinking that Gale was going to die of happiness when Cassian started to show an affinity for magic and a certain connection to the weave.

You know he would have been happy even if Cassian showed no interest in the weave or magic in general, but the fact that he does has only pulled the two of them closer.

“Mr. Dekarios!”

Allon’s voice pulls you from your reverie, watching as him and Cassian come running up to you and Gale. You look past him to see his parents watching you all and give them a small wave which they return.

Gale takes his hand from your own as the boy approaches and crouches down to his level.

“Yes, Allon?”

The boy, whose mask is tipped up to sit on top of his head, looks slightly sheepish as he looks at Gale.

“Can you show me that magic trick again?” He asks politely.

Gale feigns to think for a moment, hand on his chin as he scratches his beard. “Do you mean this one?”

With a flick of his wrist and a faint purple aura, Gale produces a small foil wrapped chocolate in the palm of his hand just to the side of Allon’s face. The tiefling giggles in delight before snatching the candy and stuffing it in his mouth.

You hear a small gasp come from behind him as his mother approaches, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Allon, what do you say?”

His eyes widen as he speaks around the chocolate in his mouth. “-‘fank you.”

Gale laughs before pulling two more chocolates from his robe and handing them to him. “You’re most welcome.”

Allon’s mother gives you both a small apology before leading her son back to where her husband stands.

Gale’s trick for Allon starts to attract a small crowd of children, all of them begging to see him do more tricks and other magical displays. Your wizard stands next to you as the gaggle grows, a huge grin splitting his lips as he complies with the tiny demands.

He pulls candy out of thin air, handing them to the small grabby hands that reach out before moving to pull hard candy’s from behind some children’s ears or even making them appear right in their pockets. You watch from a few feet away, as Cassian fights his way to the front of the crowd. Gal hoists him into his arms and pauses his display as yours son leans in to whisper in his ear.

Gale’s eyes light up, and he nods. “That sounds like a grand idea, Cassian. Would you like to help me?”

At the prospect of helping his father with magic, Cassian nods fervently, his mask shaking funnily on his face. Gale instructs the other children to back up just a few feet before setting Cassian down beside him. He turns to face him and takes his little hands in his own, palms facing up.

“Now, remember,” he instructs gently, “You have to think about it very hard, try to picture it in your head.”

Cassian nods firmly, and you can practically picture the look of serious determination on his face.

Gale continues. “And remember, do not be discouraged if it does not work because…”

“I’m still learning and mistakes are okay,” Cassian recites the words Gale tells him so often.

Gale smiles, squeezing Cassian’s hands. “That’s right. Now, are you ready?”

Cassian nods again and Gale turns to face the small crowd, which has now grown to include adults as well. You’ve now moved to join the crowd a few paces back from the front row of children in order to watch your family. You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping that Cassian isn’t nervous in any way.

Gale places both hands out in front of him, palms together and waits as Cassian mimics him. After a moment of concentration he separates his hands to reveal a small area of purple and blue light. You wait for Cassian to do the same but find yourself slightly perplexed when he stays still, his hands held firmly together in front of him.

You watch as Gale whispers something to him before he thrusts his hands skywards ending out a cascade of purple and blue light that settles over the crowd. Moments later you watch as Cassian does the same but instead, pure starlight springs out from his palms, creating a magical night sky above the square as the pinpricks of bright white light settle among the colorful aurora.

Cheers and gasps of pleasure erupt from the crowd, but you don’t stay to watch their faces as they marvel at the magic. You’re already rushing forward, taking Cassian in your arms as you gasp.

“Cassian, that was amazing!” You praise, hugging him close before looking at Gale who gazes proudly at his son. “When did you learn to do that?”

Cassian pulls away so he can look at you, tugging his mask up so his brown eyes can look into your own, excitement and utter joy sparkling in his eyes.

“I’ve been practicing for over a tenday!” He says proudly.

Finally gale approaches, finally free from attention as they all marvel at his handiwork. “It’s true. He would not rest until he was sure he could do it,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. “In fact it was you he wanted to surprise most.”

You smile and turn to look at your son again. “Well consider me surprised,” you tell him before peppering his face with kisses, causing him to squeal. “I’m so, so proud of you, Cas.”

“Muuum!” He whines, causing you to relent in your barage of kisses.

“Okay, okay,” you say, moving to set him back on his feet. “Why don’t we go explore the rest of the square? I think I saw someone selling cinnamon buns…”

At the mention of his favorite treat, Cassian’s face lights up again and he tugs his mask back down as he grabs your and Gale’s hand in each of his one.

“Yes! Let’s go, let’s go!”

———

The moon is high in the sky by the time you three make your way home. Cassian is sound asleep in Gale’s arms, pockets building with candy, and chocolate staining the corners of his mouth.

You approach the tower soon enough, the facing flicker of three candles greeting you through the carved mouths of the pumpkins. You smile as you make your way up the steps, getting the door for Gale before following them both inside.

You follow them up to Cassian’s room and help Gale gently remove his costume, careful not to wake him. But despite your best efforts, just as you're tucking him into bed, Cassian stirs awake.

His eyes flutter slowly as his hands come up to tug the blanket further around him.

“Did the candles go out?” He asks sleepily.

You shake your head, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Nope. They’re still lit, my love. No bad luck this year.”

Cassian nods before turning onto his side, eyes slipping closed as he falls right back asleep.

You smile and press another kiss to his forehead, Gale doing the same before blowing out the candles and leaving the room, leaving the door cracked so a small amount of light can filter in from the hallway.

You both move about readying for bed once Cassian is settled, neither of you speaking as sleep starts to tug at your minds as well. Only when you’re settled beneath the covers with Gale’s arms snaking around you do you finally break the silence.

“You’re an amazing father,” you tell him softly, lips brushing against his own.

Gale is silent for a moment, eyes trailing over your face before his eyes slip closed and he pulls you closer, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“That is praise most high - praise I sometimes still feel unworthy of.”

You shake your head, wrapping around him further. “You deserve that and more, my love.”

He presses a kiss to your neck, the underside of your jaw, before eventually pulling away to capture your lips with his own. It’s a slow, languid kiss, both of you just taking each other in until finally breaking apart and settling against the pillows.

“I love you,” gale says simply, pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, for giving me this. Giving me a family.”

Your heart swells at his words and you move to bury your face in his chest, wanting him as close as possible.

“I love you too.”

#gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 x reader #gale #bg3 #bg3 gale

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sirenpearldust · 8 days

Text

Pearl

Part 1 part 2

Pair: Eris x Reader

Word count: 2.599

Warnings: mentions of cheating, fertility issues, insecure thoughts

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As months slipped by without conception, your mind wandered to the idea of a baby. You found yourself daydreaming about your future baby, wondering if they would inherit your traits or resemble Eris.

Maybe your future child would be a perfect blend of both of you, or a mirror image of Eris with his luscious locks, mischievous amber eyes accented by long, dark lashes, and his straight nose.

You hoped your child would resemble your wonderful husband, with his charming laugh, his thoughtful frown, and all the beauty he possessed.

As you stood before the mirror, you gazed at your belly, imagining it swollen with pregnancy.

Your mind wandered to your child laughing, giggling, and cooing with joy, happiness radiating from their bright eyes.

You felt stressed as numerous people, especially Beron, exerted pressure on you. However, Eris remained your source of comfort, always sweet and wiping your tears, soothing you whenever the healer delivered the disappointing news of another unsuccessful conception.

Eris concealed his relief upon learning of the unsuccessful attempt, careful not to show you his true emotions. Despite this, his desire to fulfill your every wish remained strong, understanding that the timing had to be right for both you and your future heir's safety.

He saw you trying everything—from taking long walks with his mother to eating healthier, experimenting with various fertility teas, and praying.

Despite trying everything, nothing seemed to help. He witnessed your tears and mourning, understanding your sense of shame for not fulfilling what you saw as your only duty.

Eris, feeling responsible for your anguish, was ashamed, as he was at fault making you feel this way.

To help you relax and ease the strain on your body, Beron ordered that you be sent to your parents' house. The Lady of Autumn spoke with Beron, suggesting that a vacation could alleviate your stress and potentially increase your chances of conceiving.

• •

Being at your parents' house proved to be truly relaxing. The familiar surroundings provided comfort, surrounded by your loved ones. You spent time chatting with your sisters and reconnecting with friends you hadn't seen in a while.

Enjoying tea and playing cards together, the conversations and laughter helped you forget all of your worries.

In your childhood home, you were surrounded by laughter and joy, you felt whole and content.

It was a stark contrast to the tension and loneliness you experienced in the forest house, where rivalry, scheming, and jealousy were ever-present.

There, in the forest house, you always felt on edge, but here, in the comforting embrace of your childhood home, the atmosphere was vibrant and carefree.

The air was filled with the joyful laughter of children, and the warmth of your friends' companion enveloped you, easing away any lingering worries you had.

You couldn't help but wish for your child to grow up in such an environment. Perhaps not falling pregnant right now wasn't the worst outcome after all, you sadly mused.

Today, the weather was warm, carrying the scent of the black tea your mother brewed and the cherry cake your sister baked earlier.

Laughter echoed through the garden where you sat, accompanied by the sweet singing of the birds.

The sun shone just right, casting a gentle glow, and overall, the atmosphere was calm and serene.

The atmosphere was abruptly disturbed by your friend's gasp as she remembered something important.

"Oh my, I almost forgot to tell you what happened to Cassandra, you all remember her, right?" she exclaimed, her shock evident as she jumped in her seat.

"Her husband had been cheating on her, and despite her attempts to have a second child with him, he remained loyal to his mistress.

To prevent any illegitimate children with her, he resorted to using a tonic, it hindered any chance of pregnancy. Apparently it is also illegal to use.

Cassandra's father found out, killed the mistress and punished her husband by law."

"I don't know what happened exactly, but Charles now has a scar across his face," another friend chimed in.

"And lately, he's been sticking close to Cassandra when they are at gatherings. Apparently the punishment he faced was only halted because she intervened and saved him from her father. Since then, he's been keeping in line."

"That was well deserved," your mother chimed in, sipping on her tea with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

As you listened, doubts began to creep into your mind.

Maybe someone had tampered with your tea. However, your handmaids assured you that they hadn't seen anyone interfere with your food or beverages.

Every step of the preparation process, from the ingredients to the serving, had been strictly monitored.

Despite the numerous intimate sessions with Eris each day, it seemed impossible that there could be an issue with fertility.

However, hearing the conversation about Cassandra's situation sparked a troubling thought: what if the problem lay with Eris? Could he be infertile?

The notion of him using a tonic seemed absurd, and the thought of him resorting to such measures was too cruel to contemplate.

He had wiped away your tears and shielded you from harm, from the rumours, the nasty glances directed at you.

You couldn’t entertain such a devastating possibility—betrayal from him would be unimaginable.

He talked to you about the names he had chosen and the colors he envisioned for the baby's room. Every time you talked about your future child he was happy, excited to help choosing the clothes and how he would play with him or her. He didn’t care if it was a girl or a boy.

You both had laid in bed one night, when he confessed his hope that the child would resemble you. He had held you close, your fingers were intertwined, his head on your chest, he wished that your child would inherit your eyes and your smile.

He wouldn’t cheat on you, no he wouldn’t. Not Eris, never him, right?

You obviously would never openly accuse Eris of such a horrendous act or him using the tonic.

Accusing the heir could result in dire consequences, you would be risking your life and insulting the Vanserra family to which you still didn't fully belong to.

You understood that full acceptance into the family would only come with the birth of his heir.

For now, you felt more like a placeholder, knowing that if nothing worked, you could easily be replaced by a new wife.

• •

The evening neared its end and your friends departed, your family prepared for bed.

Quietly, you made your way to your father's office, seeking help to calm your nerves before you also joined dreamland.

In the cold hallway leading to his office, you closed the window, the chill dissipating.

Taking a moment to glance at your reflection, you noticed your hair cascading loosely around your shoulders, and your nightgown, a deep red with golden accents, gave you a regal air.

Compared to a week ago, you looked healthier, your cheeks now filled out.

Gazing past your reflection, you turned your attention to the sky, silently praying and hoping that your father held the answers you needed.

Approaching the grand oak door adorned with golden leaves, you knocked twice.

"Come in," your father's voice called from within.

Upon entering, you found him engrossed in his papers, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. The office carried the aroma of black coffee and biscuits.

Closing the door behind you, you stood before him, clearing your throat to gain his attention.

"Father, have you heard about what happened to Cassandra?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face in frustration before replying angrily, " Good evening to you too. Yes, but I prefer not to indulge in gossip or spread it myself. Why do you ask?"

"It's not about the gossip itself, but about the tonic," you clarified.

His eyes widened in surprise as you quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not asking to brew it myself. I'm just curious why it's outlawed and what it consists of."

Reassured, he sighed and admitted, "There is a book in the library somewhere. I forgot the title of it." With a smile, you bid him goodnight and wished him a restful sleep. "Goodnight. Sleep well," he replied before you left.

As you walked towards the library, a peculiar sensation stirred in your belly, akin to butterflies fluttering about. Nervousness and a certain cold crept over you, you had a sudden urge to relieve yourself.

As you walked into the library, you skimmed through the books, spending about two hours in the healing section.

Along the search for the specific book, you stumbled upon some intriguing ones that you planned to read later.

Eventually, you found a small black book titled "Outlawed." Within its pages, you discovered a chapter detailing the forbidden tonic.

It described how the tonic could hinder any pregnancy without causing infertility, with a minty scent and a taste like honey.

You stopped breathing, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave.

Eris used to drink a similar concoction in his office every morning—minty and tasting just like honey, just as described in the book.

You remembered how he once swiftly took the drink out of your hand after you had a sip, warning that it wouldn't be safe for a woman.

At the time, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, everything pointed to your husband being the one who used the forbidden tonic. Tears streamed down your face as you realized his betrayal.

You sobbed, as your mind raced through the events of the past few months.

You remembered how Eris had taken care of you, reassuring you that you weren't at fault for the failed conceptions. You went through every moment you had with him, his reaction, how he didn't mourn.

Now, you saw the deception clearly, realizing what a fool you had been to fall for his lies.

He had truly lived up to his name—the cruel prince of autumn.

You never anticipated that you would become a pawn in his schemes.

Questions swirled in your mind. Did he, like Charles, have another woman by his side?

Was he in love with someone else?

Jealousy gnawed at you. Why couldn't he confide in you? After all, you were friends before you were married.

Feelings of stupidity washed over you. Why did you even care now? He had lied to you, and he was probably involved with another woman. There wouldn't be any other reason to use the cursed tonic, right.

Why? Why? Why?

Why would he do it?

• •

You cried the whole night, your eyes swollen and bloodshot red by morning.

Your back ached from falling asleep in the library, and you felt chilled to the bone. Your heart raced with anxiety as you glamoured yourself to avoid questions from your family.

As you dressed and looked into the mirror, doubt crept in.

Were you truly beautiful and put together, or were you actually ugly? Worries plagued your mind—perhaps you were too clingy, or maybe you simply weren't his type.

Did he even find you attractive at all?

You forced a smile as you gazed at your reflection, but your eyes appeared lifeless, devoid of their usual sparkle. No amount of glamouring could mask the emptiness within. Tears welled up, but you quickly wiped them away.

With a frustrated huff, you adjusted your clothing, trying to compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, you headed downstairs.

The tearful goodbyes were exchanged as you hugged everyone farewell.

Standing outside the manor, you waved goodbye to your family before winnowing away.

• •

You arrived in your room after being attended to by the maids, your personal attendants taking charge of your bag.

Finding yourself alone, Eris was nowhere to be found, but he had left flowers on the vanity along with a letter.

Opening it, you read his words:

Hello, Beautiful.

I hope you enjoyed your time with your family. I have missed you dearly I hope you have missed me too.

It was quite lonely without you. I’m blessed to have you. Without you I am not complete nor at peace.

I promise to give you the life you've always wanted and to provide for you. I'll stand by you through thick and thin 'till death do us part. So don’t ever worry about anything else.

Sadly we will need to join dinner today as my Father has invited us.

Please tell me everything you experienced, what you’ve baked, eaten, played and read.

I also have planned a surprise for you (;

Yours truly, Eris.

You crumpled the letter in your hand, before burning it with a flicker of magic. It would have been sweet if you hadn’t known him to be a liar.

Erecting a barrier around the room to ensure privacy, you screamed and cried out your frustration until your throat grew hoarse and your eyes were dry. Once you stopped, you undressed yourself, feeling the need to wash away the disgust you felt from letting him touch you. A soothing bath would probably help.

• •

Out of the bath, you called for Erica and Grace. Seated at the vanity, Erica dried your hair while Grace selected jewelry for you, presenting it. Today, you decided on wearing a mauve dress, as you were in no mood for vibrant colors like red or orange. Frankly, orange made you look terrible, and you weren't in the mood to deal with that today.

They both appeared nervous, avoiding your gaze as you smiled at them. Sensing their unease, you asked, "What's wrong, girls?"

"Nothing, my lady," Erica replied, but before Grace could answer, you noticed her hesitation.

"We don't want to upset you before dinner," Grace added, her voice faltering.

Your smile faltered as well, a nervous feeling creeping over you.

Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed that something was amiss.

"I would rather know than be kept in the dark," you insisted, turning towards them.

They exchanged a hesitant glance before Erica spoke up quietly, "We have seen the prince meeting with a woman on the days your ladyship was away."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced a tight smile and urged them to continue. "Go on," you said, encouraging them.

"The woman doesn’t work here, and we tried to find out more about her, but we’ve found nothing," Erica explained.

"Don’t worry, she's not pretty. You are prettier than her," Grace added quickly.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her remark.

"She's charming enough to keep my husband occupied," you said wryly, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

"Tell me everything you know," you demanded, your voice steady despite the rage burning within you.

"She's a blonde and quite tall, with red eyes," Erica began, and Grace nodded in agreement.

"They also seem to be close. Every time we saw them, they were closely huddled together," Erica continued.

"They would whisper, but we didn't see them being intimate or kiss. They mostly met in the forest or inside the stables," Grace added, her voice tinged with concern.

Meeting a woman in secret usually hinted at an affair behind one's wife's back.

"Alright, please keep an eye on them, but don't put yourselves in danger. If Eris finds out, tell him that I, as his wife, had ordered you two to keep an eye on him. If he asks why, tell him he should confront me, as it is our business," you instructed firmly. Both Erica and Grace nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

You stood up, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, and forced a smile at them.

At least now you knew the truth: he had used the tonic, used you for pleasure, lied, cheated, and deceived you. The realization made you feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to take a bath again and scrub your skin.

You knew you had to get out of this situation, whether dead or alive, though preferably alive. Perhaps you could even stage your own death to escape his grasp once and for all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters

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dougdimmadodo · 23 days

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Tomato Frog (Dyscophus antongilii)

Family: Narrowmouth Frog Family (Microhylidae)

IUCN Conservation Status: Least Concern

Named for their rotund red bodies, Tomato Frogs are endemic to Madagascar where they are mostly found in wet, well-vegetated environments in the northeast. Spending the day buried beneath damp soil or leaf litter to avoid predation and dehydration, members of this species emerge at night to hunt for beetles, flies and other terrestrial arthropods, and respond to threats from nocturnal predators by inflating their bodies to appear larger and secreting a thick, sticky and mildly irritative substance from their skin, making them difficult for predators to bite or grab. Tomato Frogs breed following periods of heavy rainfall, and like almost all frogs they lay their eggs in water; males, which are smaller and paler than females, gather around suitable ponds or slow-moving rivers and streams during the night and produce low, quiet, grumbling calls, competing for the attention of females. If a female selects a male she will allow him to cling to her back and will carry him around for an extended period as she lays over 1,000 soft, transparent eggs which he fertilizes externally. Shortly after fertilization the eggs hatch into tiny, limbless, fully aquatic tadpoles that gradually develop limbs and lungs over the course of several months - after transitioning to life on land young Tomato Frogs are initially dull brown or pale yellow, gradually developing a redder colouration until they reach full maturity at 2-3 years of age.

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Image Source: Here

#tomato frog #Tomato Frog #frog #frogs #amphibian #amphibians #zoology #biology #herpetology #wildlife #African wildlife #herpetofauna

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most-tragic-character-tournament · 4 months

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So,

What a wild ride, everybody.

This tournament went live on July 13th, 3023, and concluded January 1st, 2024. For a long time before, I’d been wondering if I should try my hand at running one of these tournaments, and then I realized we hadn’t had a general tumblr-wide one for tragic characters. I knew that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I decided to bite the bullet and take the URL. The rest is history.

I didn’t have a set plan, but I figured I could take 128 entries. And then in less than a week and a half, I had ~122. And honestly, I wasn’t happy continuing with just those I’d gotten so far, and thought it’d be unfair if it closed that quickly without warning, so I decided to up it to 256 with a max 2 characters per canon after preliminaries. Only after that did I go on a mad search to find brackets that were big enough for that, and I’d almost given up before I finally found these:

Those are all the characters that made it past prelims and into the competition. Some quite unexpected results came out of these matchups, round after round, and honestly I’d consider the first round to have had the most brutal competitions, because I had tried to do the best I could to match levels of popularity with each other, as far as I could tell. (Yeah, that’s why we had c!Tommy v Jon Sims and Primrose v Jinx.). But even eclipsing all of those, as the weeks went on, we were eventually met with Antigone versus Lloyd Garmadon. Ah, those crazy kids.

At some points it was stressful, in the early rounds when I had dozens of posts, each with edited images and alt text, to prepare for every round, but I never regretted starting this. As of posting, this blog has 2,020 followers and has made over 1,000 posts. This will be the last post on this blog—any future asks I receive I will answer privately back to the asker, or cannot be answered if they are anon—but it will always remain here for posterity. The link below is to the similarly-preserved google sheet compiling every word of every submission this tournament ever received.

I’d like to take this chance to say thank you to everyone who submitted characters, supplied photos, sent in propaganda, reblogged the polls, indoctrinated their teachers into greeklitsweep, and everyone who kept good sportsmanship when their blorbos proved so tragic they couldn’t even win. Thank you to the small group of URLs whom I’ve consistently recognized in my inbox from submissions all the way to finals, thank you for letting me know when a name was messed up, and thank you for your patience in-between rounds. (Shoutout to @elemom as well for having their tiktok on the original antigone/lloyd poll blow up.)

If you’ve stumbled upon this blog weeks, months, or even years after this was posted, I would direct your attention to the tag map in the pinned post to sift through the tumblr history you’ve just uncovered. And I would also be tempted to point at the big sign next to it reciting the nuclear zone warning poem. Lastly, if anyone here or there wishes to talk to me about anything regarding the tournament, you’re welcome to DM @twilight-skies.

There were times when I said to myself this was a one-and-done thing—I was NOT dealing with this again, but….keep a look on the horizon, ya never know.

But until next time, it’s been amazing.

Sayonara you weeaboo shits.

#most tragic character tournament #most tragic tournament #tumblr polls #polls #important #gifs

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bogleech · 2 years

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Less Famous But Super Weird Deep Sea Fish

I’m gonna write a post of cool animal facts just to Blaze later. Typical deep sea anglerfish and some others are pretty famous but I’m going to spend maybe even ten whole dollars to make an extra thousand people look at these other fish that I don’t think enough people know about. Sources included for all images, many with additional information wherever possible, but there’s still very little known about many of these animals!

GIGANTACTIS - common name ”whipnose seadevil” - the Schmidt ocean institute recently took this detailed photo from a deep sea ROV of a fish almost never observed live, but it sure does actually look dead. These anglerfish spend most of their time floating upside-down like this with their proboscis-like lure dangling below, and one guess is that they may send the lure down into the tunnels of burrowing worms or crustaceans. In some species, the lure can be over six times the length of the body. MORE FISH:

MONOGNATHUS - meaning “one jaw” - never observed alive and never given a common name (how about just monojaw?) this animal is closely related to the more famous “pelican eels” or “gulper eels,” but lacks the huge, expandable mouth. Instead, Monognathus has a strange skull with technically no upper jaw, just a gaping hole or in some species a bill-like protrusion. The thin, simplified lower jaws exist to swing prey into the single, venomous fang on the roof of the mouth.

THAUMATICHTHYS - common name “wolf trap anglerfish” - also going by the cute name “wunderfish,” the source of this illustration was a japanese marine bio site that unfortunately went down over a decade ago, and no live photographs have ever been taken. The “lure” (illicium) of an anglerfish is actually modified from the first ray of the dorsal fin, but this angler’s anatomy is so twisted that the same appendage protrudes from the roof of its huge, broad upper jaw, which folds in half like a hot dog bun to create an illuminated tunnel (figure 2 in the image) that snaps shuts like a Venus’ fly trap on very gullible prey. On this page is a fantastic x-ray scan of one specimen.

IPNOPS - common name “Grideye” - this fish has adorable and beautiful larvae found closer to the sea’s surface, with large and well developed eyes. As they mature, the eyes deteriorate until they’re gone altogether, replaced with a pair of reflective, luminous yellow pits on the top of the skull, looking like somebody scooped its brains out. These pits are lined with thousands of photosensitive cells that must allow the fish to “see” even the faintest traces of distant light, and especially the light emitted by other deep sea organisms.

STYLEPHORUS - common name “tube eye” or “threadtail” - incredibly rare close up photographs almost all come from Dante Fenolio, see HERE. This fish is so weird that it’s even in its own entire order, which is basically like if only one single beetle or one single frog was ever discovered on the whole planet. Its big, binocular-like eyes see in full detail as well as full color, which is quite unusual for deep sea creatures. It also has a very large mouth, technically, but a very tiny mouth opening, its jaws covered in a stretchy membrane with only one tiny, tubular hole. As it widens the jaws, it pulls water (and tiny prey) through the hole with powerful, precise force that disturbs little of the surrounding water; it’s a living vacuum cleaner with pinpoint sniper accuracy.

TYPHLONUS NASUS - common name “faceless cusk eel” - hauntingly weird video clip of this animal here. There are many species of deep sea cusk eel, and they have a few things in common with the more popular but unrelated “blobfish;” they tend to be soft, bulbous creatures adapted to float neutrally in the water until they really need to move, feeding on just about any small creature they bump into. This species is so named because its mouth and nostrils are on the underside of its fat, gelatinous head and its tiny eyes are invisible beneath many layers of tissue. Yeah I know what else some of you think it looks like so feel free to get that out of your system.

MALACOSTEUS - common name “stoplight loosejaw” or “rat trap fish” - photos from Descna, these are dead specimens but the “fleshless” jaw and “detached” head are both completely normal: this fish can swing its skull outward like an arm to grab prey, and the lack of any floor to the lower jaw allows it to lash out with more extreme speed. This is also one of the few deep sea fish to produce red light, from bright “searchlights” under its eyes. The red spectrum of sunlight doesn’t penetrate into the deep sea, so the color red is invisible to most of its inhabitants. The loosejaw’s red lights allow it to brightly illuminate its prey before striking, while the victim usually sees no light at all. A fantastic illustration here by abiogenesis on Deviantart.

If you ultimately liked getting a list of preposterous little creatures as a blazed post let me know and I will eventually maybe do others, especially if I just make the money back through my site and store (see profile)

#biology #animals #marine biology

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anki-of-beleriand · 3 months

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Bad Liar ch. 16

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: The aftermath of the confrontation with Vision, and the realities Wanda now needs to face.

Guys, we are almost there!!! Two chaptrs to go! Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 16

New Year’s Eve

There was a constant beeping inside your head.

Your mind broke into several images at first, your ears twitching trying to grasp the source of the beeping noise without any success. At first, it was difficult to get a hold of your consciousness, your mind was a pool of different sections of memory that made you dizzy at first, then it stopped.

A gun.

Screams.

Wanda!

The beeping became a deafening whistle and then it stopped.

Your eyes popped open only for you to close them again with an exclamation of pain leaving your lips. You tried to lift your left arm but it was heavy, numb to any other sensation; thus, trying to protect your eyes from the lights above your head was impossible. You grunted, clenching your eyes close tightly, until a soothing hand placed itself on your right hand.

“Y/N?” America mumbled softly; her voice denoted the tiredness the young woman felt though there were traces of excitement right there. “Y/N?”

“Ugh, just give me a few minutes, I feel like my head is going to explode.” You whispered back making a face while trying to open your eyes once more, this time around slowly and squinting your eyes so as not to bother the retina.

America sighed in relief, her lips drawing a sad smile while she grasped her sister’s hand. The moment she had been brought into the hospital; America feared the worst but was soon calmed down by Tony telling her nothing too life threatening had happened. Just a gunshot on the arm, and a few badly cured wounds and bruises you couldn’t keep up with any longer.

“Wha-What happened? Wanda…Wanda, the kids…America!”

You jerked awake completely almost falling on your side while trying to sit up, America jumped away only to go back to you trying to push you back on the bed. She frowned, shaking her head until her eyes finally found yours, reading in them the desperation you had been experimenting all day.

“I’m here, they are here, we’re fine.” America tried to sound reassuring, pressing you back on the bed, “come on stop struggling, you idiot! You’re hurt and need to take it easy for a moment.”

It wasn’t until then that you noticed the bandages covering your sister’s wrists, she too held some bruises and cuts on her face but otherwise America was unharmed. Your eyes went big, this time around you lifted your good arm cupping your sister’s face.

“Kiddo, are you alright? God, I’m so sorry…”

America swallowed down her emotions nodding curtly, “I’m…I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Your wrists…”

“I-I cut myself trying to get away from the ropes.” She explained looking at the bandages, “I couldn’t and perhaps if I had done so…”

“You would be dead.” You replied wrapping your right arm around your sister putting her to you. “I’m sorry, I put you in danger kiddo, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry.”

America slumped down holding onto you with tears forming in her eyes, her arms sneaking under your body until she was hugging you tightly. You felt your own tears prickling in your eyes, holding onto the only family you had left.

“I was so scared.” She whispered between sobs, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I’m sorry that…that she didn’t tell you everything.”

You blinked slowly while pushing America away for a moment, you tilted your head trying to sit down. America soon was by your side lifting the bed and helping your position on the bed, she was still crying softly but relief was quite evident in her features.

“What do you mean everything? Who was supposed to tell me everything?” You dragged the words tilting your head, America tensed with her brows knitting together.

“Wanda.” She spat out shaking her head, “Me and the others found out she had been living with that asshole for a time now, I confronted her when things with you were getting serious, she told me she would speak with you but…”

“Wait, you knew about Wanda’s husband? You dug into her past without consulting me?” You snorted, shaking your head, “she told me about Vision. She told me…”

“That he almost killed her and the twins several times? That the last time she was put into the hospital she decided that was enough because the man burned a knife on Tommy’s back while she was out?” America exclaimed with her voice getting louder and louder with every word.

“That the man had a restrained order? That…that, I almost lost you?” America was shaking by now, it was as if she had been containing herself until that point and seeing you like this, all hurt and weak finally broke the resistance inside her.

“It is her fault! It’s all Wanda’s fault!”

You winced trying to incorporate, almost falling on your knees you grabbed America and pulled her towards you hugging her as tight as you could. A part of you understood where this was coming from, America had never seen your parents’ bodies the way you had to, she had only gone to the funeral so she was never there to see their broken bodies still, the trauma lingers and the fear that was trying to consume America was something you had already experienced. You were her only family, if she lost you then what would be of her?

She hugged you back sobbing silently against your chest, your body protested at the stress you were putting it into but you didn’t care. You waited until America seemed to calm down, your voice finally reaching out to her more logical part instead of her emotional one.

“It’s okay to be angry, Kiddo, it’s okay…” You whispered with your hand drawing soothing circles on her back, “but it’s not Wanda’s fault, or yours, or mine…Kiddo, what others do, what others decide to do is not our fault…This is the fault of a man that wanted to be evil, Wanda was just a victim, like you, like me…but we cannot blame ourselves when he is the one that should be carrying with this.”

America took a breath holding back her rage and her fear, she didn't agree nor she denied your words, instead she stepped back giving you a quick check up. You were wearing a hospital gown, your left arm had been put on a sling holding your arm tightly against your chest. Your face was covered in bruises, with your hair badly combed with a paleness that came with the concussion and the tiredness you felt the day before.

“You were lucky,” America stated pointing to your arm, “the crazy woman, she went mad shooting like crazy she just hit your arm, the…they have to shoot her down.”

You gulped nodding curtly while glancing at your arm, you didn't remember much after the initial shooting. But you remembered the burning pain, the numbness going on your left side and then just giving into darkness.

“What about…?” You didn't finish the question, America shook her head.

“He was arrested, not before he almost killed Wanda with his bare hands.”

America had heard enough from Tony and that one eyed man, she had been taking care of the twins when this was mentioned and of course she had seen Wanda come into the emergency room right after you. Everything had been so confusing she could barely remember anymore, or at least tried to pinpoint where to go whenever she felt lost. Kate had been released early in the day and while she offered to stay, America knew Kate’s mother would want to be with her.

You sat down on the bed again, your knees trembling under the weight of your body. You winced finally feeling the effects of the medication wear off.

“How is Wanda?” You asked tentatively, America tensed up nodding to the door.

“She is at the other end of the hall, with Billy and Tommy.” Then after a moment of hesitation, “Hope is with them.”

“Have you talked to Hope already?” You inquired lifting a brow at your sister, the young woman shrugged looking away from you. “America…”

“I'm just happy you are okay.” America let herself drop right beside you, you smiled wrapping your good arm around her.

“I'm happy you and the others are okay.”

America sighed, closing her eyes, “do you want something? I need to tell the doctor and the nurse you are okay.”

“It's Vodka an option?” You teased, America snorted, shaking her head.

“I can try.”

“Please do, and while you're at it try to record their reaction.”

America chuckled, pushing you playfully while standing up.

“If you're cracking bad jokes already, that means we will be home on time for the New Year celebrations.”

You frowned, cocking your head while speaking again.

“What do you mean? What day is today?”

This time around America was the one frowning, “It's New Year's Eve, more exactly we are eight hours away from the new year.”

“Woah, so I was unconscious what? Twelve hours?”

“More or less, yes.”

“I was lucky.” You stated absentmindedly, America glanced at you for a long time before nodding.

“We were lucky.” America didn’t say much after that, you furrowed your brows trying to actually feel the strength coming back to your body.

“Even if I’m not release today, we should celebrate New Year today,” you dared to glance at America who pursed her lips nodding curtly, “I mean, we shouldn’t stop celebrating the good things in life, and well…”

America let out a heavy sigh, she passed around the room stopping right in front of you. Her hands placed carefully on your shoulders and for the very first time you saw your stepmother in her, the same determination behind her brown eyes and her serious features.

“I have never felt so afraid before, Y/N, and while I was there trying to get away I was…I was feeling powerless to help the twins, to help Kate, to help Wanda.” America trailed off never breaking her eyes contact with you, she swallowed down her tears opening her mouth with a quivering lip.

“I thought what you would do, and when I heard him said he had killed you,” America snorted, “I was ready to do something foolish, yet I felt so defeated.”

“America…” You started but she then broke into a half smile, shrugging while squeezing your shoulders comfortingly.

“Then I heard you were okay, that you were trying to get me and the twins out of it and I knew.” America rolled her eyes punching you lightly on your good shoulder.

“What did you knew know?” You asked when America didn’t elaborate, the young woman lifted her chin stepping back nearing the door.

“That you are in love with Wanda, that you love those kids as if they were your own, and that you would never let anything bad happen to me or them, even if you have to sacrifice yourself.”

You broke into the same smile, shaking your head you offered a sheepish stare to America.

“What can I say? It is the foolish in me, perhaps in another life I was a hero.”

“Perhaps, you doofus, I think…it would take time, but I understand.” She mumbled with her eyes shining lightly.

“I know, kiddo, I know.” You called to her and she stopped right before closing the door, “I think more now than ever they will need a big sister, you know?”

America snorted shaking her head, “it’s good then that I learnt how to be a good big sister from the best.”

And with that, America left you alone while she went to look for the doctors. You kept your eyes on the white door for a long time, your mind numb giving into the growing pain on your left side. You didn’t dare to let your thoughts wander towards Wanda or the twins for fear of just jumping to your feet and running to her room. Whatever had happened, whatever stated she was in the last thing you wanted to do was to overwhelm her or scared her away. You could still remember the fear in her eyes, the sudden changed in her whole demeanour while she gave into a state of numbness that broke your heart.

You took a deep breath, looking around you found America’s mobile and after a moment of hesitation you grabbed the gadget watching the time and the day. With a trembling thumb, you decided that you wouldn’t let this to change things with Wanda or America or even Billy and Tommy.

A plan already forming on your mind.

__________________

It took fifteen minutes for everyone to come rushing into your room as soon as the news of you waking up reached them up.

As you expected it, Christine and Strange were the first to come rushing into your room ready to check over your wounds and bandages. Your chest exploded into a wave of warm affection when they started fuzzing around you making you go back to the bed to make a full check-up while asking questions about your physical health.

Soon Hope came in as well with Tony, Reed and Sue who had made sure to be there as well. This time around the questions changed into a more deep, emotional speech to find your emotional state, with everyone being careful of mentioning Wanda or her children. When it became too much, and your anguish grew without everyone taking noticed of this, Christine and Pepper came right in hushing everyone out of your room with only America, Christine, Hope and Pepper staying behind.

You closed your eyes slowly, wincing when the shifting on the bed made you pressed your weight on your left side.

“Easy there, Y/N, it would take some time to get use to it but the pain won’t last that long.” Christine spoke soothingly, she offered a shaky smile at you while helping you get comfortable. “You were really lucky she was bad with guns, and her aim.”

You gave a crooked smile, “I was lucky indeed.”

Hope glanced at America then at you, the exchanged didn’t go amiss by you and soon your eyes were on your best friend.

“How is Wanda?” Finally, after almost two hours of avoiding the topic you brought the white elephant into the room.

Hope sighed stepping closer to you, “she is not okay, this really shake whatever progress we made in the past and has been affecting her greatly. She feels guilty, she feels as if she doesn’t deserve you.”

“She actually thinks you hate her.” America chimed in playing with her lower lip, “and I may have led her to believe she was right.”

You glared at your sister but said nothing, it was okay. It was only natural. The situation had been less than ideal, and everyone reacted differently to these situations, you couldn’t blame America more so than you could blame Wanda or yourself. Hope grabbed your right hand squeezing comfortingly.

“She will need a lot of support, Y/N, if you…” Hope took a deep breath, “if you are serious about her, about a relationship with her then I suggested you start working on convincing her that she deserves to be happy. And that you don’t hate her.”

You looked away finding Christine’s eyes on yours, the young woman smiled gently at you already knowing the answer. You nodded turning to America then to Hope.

“I am very serious, Hope. I wouldn’t have done what I did with just anyone.” You stated serious grabbing your best friend tightly, “I fell in love with Wanda because of who she is, I don’t know if she feels the same or if she even is ready for this but I won’t give up.”

“I know, Y/N. It will take time but…well, I cannot say she feels the same, I can say though that she really feels strongly about you.” Hope shrugged stepping back, “so, who knows?”

“Right.” You sighed turning to the door then back to Hope and Christine, “I need a favour.”

“What is it?” You offered a half smiled wiggling your brows and soon America knew you had planned something incredible reckless and crazy.

Christine and Pepper exchanged a glance pretty familiar with the mischievous glint of your stare ready to see where this favour of you lead them.

____________________________

You were ready to go out of your room, you were tired already of staying in bed more so if there was no need for you to stay overnight.

“You really should try to follow Christine’s advice,” America mumbled helping you inside your pants while shaking her head, you almost fall flat on your ass if America hadn’t hold onto you.

“Ugh, please I’m okay, just bruised and in pain but at least I can get dress, and besides I want to see Wanda and I wasn’t about to flash my but to everyone in this wing.” You glared at the hospital gown before turning to your sister.

America winced making a face at the mention of your butt.

“Yes, I agreed, we don’t need that anymore than we need to.”

You chuckled sitting down on the bed while watching as America went to grab your sneakers and put them on you. Just as she was finishing up the last of them the door to your room opened without any warning, you were about to scold at whoever had come in unannounced when you found yourself staring at Nick Fury and Peggy Carter.

Both agents came into your room, closing the door behind them. Peggy stepped closer her eyes checking you up before the fell on America. The older woman offered a warm smile stretching her hand to your sister.

“You must be Ms. Chavez, I’m Agent Peggy Carter.” America took her hand lifting a brow at her.

“A pleasure.”

“So, agent Carter, Agent Fury, what can I do for you?” You asked right away with your eyes going from Peggy to Fury.

“We came here to inquire about your injuries and your general state,” Peggy started taking a seat on the closest chair, “and then, if you were agreeable to the idea, we are also here to take your testimony.”

“As you can imagine, the case against Jarvis is going to take high priority since he broke into a private airport handle by National Security so, now only is he under some federal charges, he is also being investigate for terrorism and treason.”

You snorted shaking your head, not really understanding how all those charges came to be but happy to know the man would have it really difficult to go out of the trouble he got into. America stood right there glancing at you then at the agents, she bounced on her feet before nodding curtly to herself grabbing her phone and moving to the door.

“In that case, I’m out of here and directly to help Christine and the others with your…surprised.”

“Go on, Kiddo, I’ll be in Wanda’s room if you need anything.”

Peggy watched as America left before settling her eyes on you, Fury took a seat on the sofa and soon both agents had their attention on you.

“Well, where should I start?” You finally asked, Peggy put her phone on the table the recording app on.

“You can start from the beginning, when did you meet Wanda and how you became involve with her, and Jarvis.”

You raised a single eyebrow before nodding, for a moment you kept silent contemplating how much had happened in the last six months of your life. With a deep breath, you started telling them the first day you met Wanda, the different encounters, and the conversations you held with her. It was not relevant, but soon just to humour yourself you started talking about your changing feelings, how you started seeing the other woman and the shaky friendship that blossom one day when you first got to see the scars of the abuse in the boys.

The story then went directly to the confrontation you had with him the day before. His words inviting you over to see something he had been working on, then the surprised attack and you fighting back up until the moment they showed up and cooked up the plan that almost cost you your life and Wanda’s life as well. Peggy shifted uncomfortable, her eyes glancing fast to Nick then back at you.

“Now, I want to know what happen to him,” you asked glancing at both agents, “You promised me nothing bad would happen and I got shot and Wanda was almost killed by the man.”

The reproach was quite evident in your voice, Peggy glanced at Fury then back at you, she leaned forward placing her elbows on her knees making sure you could not look away from her.

“He was already on top of Wanda by the time Agatha shoot you,” Peggy shifted as she recounted what happened while you were unconscious on the ground, “we were supposed to arrest him right there and then, but we never expected him to get to Wanda and tried to strangle her before we could pull him away from her.”

“He knew he had been caught, so his last act before going to jail was to make sure he would kill his wife.” Fury continued shrugging, “he was just a fucking coward.”

Peggy glared at Fury but the man didn’t even flinch, you scowled shaking your head.

“What is a dead woman if he is the sole survivor and the only guardian to his children?” You snorted, shaking your head, “he knew you needed him alive if you were to keep building a case against the criminal organisation he had been stealing from.”

Peggy nodded curtly, not even bothering in denying your words. clenching your jaw, you sit up trying to get out of the bed, Fury stepped forward helping you out of the bed while holding you up.

“I will make sure that man doesn't see the light of another day, Agent Carter, he tried to kill me and my family.”

“I know.” She replied softening slightly, “I'm sorry you have to go through that, you and Wanda…”

“Whatever information he is offering you, I can double it. You have my resources at your full disposal as long as there is written guarantee he won't have the kids custody; his name will be erased from their records.”

Fury lifted a single eyebrow quite impressively while Peggy tried to hold back her expression into a neutral facade. You shrugged pointing a finger to the door.

“I don't know if the movies are real or not, but if the government can make it happen I want that man like the iron mask prisoner from Dumas’ book.”

This time around Peggy cracked a smile nodding curtly, “I shouldn't tell you this but, he wouldn't be our first iron mask prisoner.”

You opened your eyes before squinting them with a hint of suspicion there.

“I can't promise you he would be put away in such a secure place, but I can promise you the other part of your request. He won't have any claim on the children or his ex-wife or his freedom.”

“Good, now I think I'm going to see my girlfriend. If you excuse me, you gave me the perfect chance to run from this place.”

Fury and Peggy watched you leave the office, Peggy waited until she heard your footsteps far along the hall.

“So, tell me why we never recruit her?”

“Her father threatened to skin you and Steve alive if you ever tried it.”

“Right, like father, like daughter.”

_________________

The energy you had spent re-telling your story for the last six months was soon building up again. Your hand hover above the doorknob of Wanda’s room, with you standing right outside waiting for courage and the right words to find a way into your mouth.

You played the words of Hope inside your head, and you went over what America and everyone else had told you so far about Wanda’s real physical and emotional state. You needed to play this right so as to ensure Wanda would not run from you; you lifted your face ready to go in when a couple of questions creep into your mind, what if Wanda really didn’t want anything with you? What if things really change?

The white door was suddenly heavier, bigger and it stood before you as a silent guardian of what was at the other end. You remembered your sister's anger, the fragility of life as your left arm pulsated with the ghost of a bullet piercing your skin and muscle.

Wanda.

Everything you did up to that point had been for her, right? Then, why were you hesitating?

With more courage that you felt, you grabbed the doorknob and pushed through.

The room had the light of the TV projecting colours of a children’s program on the wall, there was only a single lamp projecting a different light resting on the bedside table. You stepped into the room closing the door behind you and effectively calling the attention of the little lumps resting on the sofa. Billy and Tommy both turned to the door, their eyes growing wide while they expression changed from one of boredom and tiredness to one of happiness.

It caught you by surprised to see as the both of them came rushing to you meeting you halfway and wrapping their arms around you. You winced when Billy got to you first, he crushed into your left side while Tommy grabbed your right side.

“Hey guys,” you greeted them softly, wrapping your good arm around Tommy while later on ruffling Billy’s hair, “it’s good to know you guys are okay.”

“Mommy said…” Billy trailed off stepping away from you, frowning he then pointed to the sling, “she said dad hurt you.”

Tommy pressed his lips together looking down in shame, “we’re sorry.”

You opened your eyes kneeling while putting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, Tommy.” You replied looking at the boy before turning your eyes to his brother, “never felt sorry for what other’s do, guys. He hurt me, but it was not your fault.”

Billy clenched his jaw close stepping closer to you, “he hurt mommy too, and Tommy.”

Tommy trembled feeling the tears in his eyes, you softened your features cupping his face while offering a smile to Tommy.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Tommy, but he won’t be able to do so anymore, I promise.” Tommy then stepped towards you hugging you tightly hiding his face on your neck.

You wrapped your good arm around him drawing soothing circles on his back, you could see Billy hesitating though this time around he was looking at you with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“Are you…mad? Mommy said you saved her but…she was crying.” Billy furrowed his brows glancing at the bed where his mother was resting then back at you, “I don’t want mommy crying anymore.”

Your heart melted right away, these boys had been in constant fear yet always ready to defend and protect their mother. You shook your head nodding to Billy to come closer to you.

“I’m not mad, Billy. I was worried sick about you guys, and Wanda, I love you guys.” You said without a hint of hesitation, “and I’m sorry I was not there to make sure nothing bad happen to you, or Tommy or Wanda. But I promise you, this won’t happen again. And he…he won’t be able to hurt you again.”

“You promise?” Billy said lifting his right hand, putting his little finger out, “you pinkie swear it?”

You held back your smile, you let go of Tommy for a moment taking Billy’s finger with yours.

“I swear it, Billy.”

And you meant it.

You would do anything that was in your power to protect this family from any harm, they didn’t deserve to keep on suffering the way they had done in the past and if you could offer them something different you would do so.

Billy nodded curtly before he too came into your arms hugging your tightly, you closed your eyes for a moment enjoying the embrace these two kids were sharing with you. You smiled when they let go of you and put their fingers on their lips turning to the bed where Wanda was still sleeping.

It wasn’t until that moment that you noticed the state she was in.

If at any point you doubt your love for Wanda, and what the future held for the both of you it soon crumbled under the weight of your emotions and your beating heart. Your eyes softened at the sight of Wanda sleeping on a hospital bed, there was nothing relaxed on her expression and the way she seemed to be clenching her jaw and fist told you she was probably having a bad dream.

“Dad hurt mommy.” Billy mumbled looking up at you, “can you make her feel better?”

“I will try, kiddo, why don’t you and Tommy go back to the sofa, okay?” The twins glanced at one another then back at you and then at their mother before nodding and running back to the sofa.

You stood by Wanda’s bed taking in the bruises on her face and the bandages covering parts of her body. You were trembling by now, your hand lifting to touch at the bandages covering her neck. The man had tried to make s much damage as he could, and Wanda was now paying a price she shouldn’t be paying. You made a silent promise to the skies to never let anyone or anything hurt her the way Vision had done so.

With a softness that surprised you, you grabbed her hand in yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand while leaning in to place a single kiss on her forehead.

Wanda stirred with her eyes popping opened all of a sudden, you could see the flash of panic in those green orbs and the tension of her body pushing her to almost sit up and put herself in unnecessary risk.

“Hey, wait, it's me, Wands.” You tried to soothe her, this time around you placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, tilting your head. You tried to offer a shaky smile but Wanda just shook her head trying to get away from your touch leaving out exclamations of pain from her lips.

“Hey, Wands, wait…” You tried to calm her down, with the twins standing up coming to the bed while looking at you and then at Wanda.

“Y/N? Mommy?” Billy asked tentatively, hearing her son was enough to make Wanda returned her attention to them then back to you.

“Hey, love it’s okay.” You furrowed your brows, while Billy and Tommy were not understanding such a reaction for you was crystal clear what it meant.

The words from Hope came back, and now you understood what they really meant. The fear she was flashing on those green eyes were the silent symbol of the fear she was feeling of getting closer to you once more, of perhaps living the rejection coming from you and experimenting the hate she thought you had for her.

Wanda never lost the tension on her muscles, she tried to ignore you while turning to her children that were looking at her wide eyed.

“I’m okay.” She tried to speak but her voice came hoarse with dried undertones and broken words.

Billy frowned grabbing Tommy by the hand then turning to you and Wanda.

“Y/N is here, mommy. You can sleep again; she pinkie promise dad won’t hurt you. Ever again.”

While Billy offered a tentative smile to his mom you could see the widening of her eyes, and the tension coming back to her. You grabbed her hand, trying to be as careful as you could while making sure she returned her attention to you. Wanda pressed into the bed keeping her face hidden from you while keeping her hand limp.

“Wanda, look at me, please.” You spoke clearly, without demanding but asking as a favour.

After what seemed like an eternity the young woman turned to you and the tears were filling up her eyes.

“You want some water?” You asked lifting your good hand to brush some locks of hair away from her face, “I notice your voice was hoarse and…well, I know why but perhaps cold water can help some with the swelling.”

Wanda felt her lower lip shivered, she was trembling waiting for you to start screaming at her, for the words of finality to leave your mouth. But you never changed your posture, or the softness behind your expression, or even the tender caresses from your hand. You locked your eyes to hers lifting an eyebrow at her.

“Well? You want water or, I can also offer you some Vodka, but that will cost you a kiss at least.”

You chuckled when Tommy and Billy made gaging sounds before erupting in giggles and going back to the sofa. Wanda frowned opening her mouth ready to speak, but with her breath caught in her throat when you placed a single finger on her lips.

“Don’t, Princess, try to not put any unnecessary stress on your voice. Let me bring you the water, and then…” you trailed off leaning, “then we will talk.”

Wanda trembled nodding slightly, you winked at her and then asked the boys if they wanted something to drink asking them to come with you while leaving the room for a moment.

Wanda was soon left alone with her thoughts, she thought the first time she would see you again after the whole ordeal she would be far away, perhaps ready and strong to face your hatred and the finality of whatever relationship you two had built in the last couple of weeks. She had been waiting for you to hate her, to perhaps blame her for what had happened the way America had done so hours ago.

She never expected you to behave the way you were doing, or for you to offer her the smile she loved so much. Or for you to just be you. She held back her tears, her heart beating heart against her chest while she tried to quiet down any whispers of hope that had been trying to grow inside her head and heart, she couldn’t allow herself to hope only for you to perhaps coming back with a breakup and hurtful words against her. Her heart wouldn’t take it.

Ten minutes later you came back alone, your lips curled into a sheepish smile while lifting a glass of water with a straw.

“America and her friends were down in the cafeteria, and Balder was there and the twins wanted to talk to him, I hope you don’t mind.” You stepped closer to Wanda helping her up before offering the straw. “Here, drink some water.”

The woman hesitated before drinking form the straw, her face broke into a mask of pure relief while wincing lightly feeling her throat pulsated with the water flowing inside her. She then opened her eyes, looking directly into yours.

“Thank you.” Wanda whispered looking away for a moment, getting ready with the huge speech she had prepared in your absence, her mouth opened but whatever she had prepared came crushing down and the only thing she could say was a shaky, “I’m sorry.”

“Wanda…” You started but the other woman put a hand on yours gripping your tightly, her green eyes big and desperate.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…I…It wasn’t my intention, I’m sorry, please don’t hate me…”

You could hear and see the effort she was making into talking, her voice was trembling just above a hoarse whisper. You waited until it was impossible for her to continue and then, you leaned in to kiss her forehead tenderly.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, Love.” You whispered for her only, breaking into a tender smile while letting her see the love you felt for her.

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks her lips trembling. You brushed your hand against her cheek, wiping away the tears while brushing her hair.

“I have never had so much fear in my life that the fear I felt knowing I couldn’t stop him on time and you and the twins and my sister were in danger.” You said softly, furrowing your brows while looking at Wanda.

“I was so afraid that something was to happen to you and them, when I finally got him to leave the kids and America behind my next concern was to make sure you were okay.” This time around you let your fingertips trace a line to the bandages around her neck.

“I’m sorry he hurt you, Wands.”

“Why?” She finally asked, and that single question held everything she wanted to tell you.

Why were you still there with her? Why did you keep coming for her? Why?

You opened your eyes blinking away a couple of times, “I thought it was obvious.”

Wanda furrowed her brows shaking her head, you softened leaning in making sure she was looking deeply into your eyes.

“Because I’m in love with you, Wanda, and from the moment I met you I realized I want nothing more than to make you and the boys happy.” You shrugged offering a tender smile, “I thought it was that obvious, but let me correct that, from now on I will show you every day how much I love you, and I will tell you so, to make sure you know without a glimpse of a doubt.”

Wanda felt her lip quivered, she wanted to say so many things. She wanted to ask for your forgiveness because if she had told you the full story of Vision nothing would have happened. She wanted to tell you that she would understand if you wanted to end whatever it was the both of you have, she had put you and your sister in danger and she would understand. She would understand if you hated her, if you wanted to leave.

And then, you came over to crash all of these thoughts by confessing the most wonderful thing to her. She felt her heart stopped for a moment, and soon she opened her mouth wanting to tell you the same, that she had been in love with you from quite some time. She locked her eyes with yours, her mouth opened ready to say those words…

I love you.

She gripped your hand tightly, and your heart broke at the fragility you found there. Your own tears welling up your eyes, offering a comforting smile when you hold her hand.

“I know.” You said to her silent confession.

She lowered her gaze, gasping when you brushed your lips against hers.

“Wanda, I know life has not been easy or kind to you, but I want you to know that I will be here for you, for Billy and for Tommy.” You all but whispered to her, “whenever you are ready, I still be here, and I won’t leave unless you tell me to. So, you better be ready because, If you want to, I’ll be by your side until we are old and living in an Italian coast watching our grandchildren grow.”

Wanda offered a shaky smile clenching her eyes closed thinking she really didn't deserve you. Or happiness. When she opened her eyes again, you were still there smiling softly at her, and Wanda had to ask herself if she was ready to be with you in such a way. To finally step forward and give herself to you. You whispered sweet, comforting words to her, trying to ease out the sobs leaving Wanda’s lips until the young woman finally fell into an easy sleep.

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

Wanda was not sure when she fell asleep, her body stirred painfully under the weight of recovery and sleepiness. She could hear the muffled conversation happening in her room, and the excited chatter coming from her children but her eyes refused to open, only giving her the comfort of the sounds of conversation.

She let the voices soothe her worries, her heart shrank deeply hearing the snickered from her son's and the conviction behind your voice. She loved the tenderness in which America chided them but also the way she conspired with the twins. Wanda didn't know when she let the smile showed on her face, but the moment she opened her eyes your hand was comfortingly wrapped around hers.

“Hey, sleepy head, are you ready?” Your question caught Wanda by surprise, she furrowed her brows opening her mouth only to close it again.

You chuckled turning to the bedside table lifting the glass of water with straw that was left there by a nurse. You offered the straw to Wanda and, after some hesitation, she drank some of it trying to clear her throat while locking her eyes with yours.

“Ready for what?” She finally said in a raspy, guttural voice wincing at the effort.

“For New Year’s celebration, of course!”

It wasn't until then that the young woman noticed the change in your clothing. You were wearing a loose shirt, your left arm still wrapped around the sling, your legs covered by a nice black jean and some Vans. Your hair out up in a ponytail, freshly washed and ready for an afternoon stroll apparently. She turned to see the twins were both wearing black and khaki jeans with matching jackets and light blue shirts. America wore a beautiful dress and everyone was just ready to go out, Wanda tried to sit up with her eyes slightly open glancing around her room with her heart beating fast and a tingling down her abdomen.

“I brought you a dress that Billy and Tommy select, and a nice coat because, baby is cold outside.”

You chuckled winking at America who rolled her eyes making gagging sounds while Wanda returned your smile blushing lightly.

“I would offer to help you get dressed, but you know…” you pointed to your arm sheepishly, “Nat is coming over and we will wait upstairs, don't take too long, Wands.”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something, but soon enough her words tangled on her throat when you leaned in, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Just go with the flow, love.” You winked walking backwards before hurrying everyone out of the room.

The room soon felt empty, with just a tad of cold breeze making Wanda shivered. She sat on the bed for a moment until the door of her room opened and there was Natasha with a huge smile.

“I hope you're ready because Y/N really outdo herself this time around.”

Wanda was not sure what to say, the tears were back and her heart was just trembling under the raw affection trying to overwhelm her. Soon her eyes fell upon the dress, Wanda narrowed her eyes trying to calm herself down while letting the older woman assist her still confused as to what exactly was happening and not obtaining any direct answers from the redhead.

“Nu-uh, you will have to wait, Wanda, and you won't regret it.”

Half an hour later Wanda and Natasha were making their way to the elevator of the Hospital, not many people were left in the halls. Midnight was almost there, and many were either in their rooms, on their homes, or on the rooftop. You waited patiently by the elevator, your eyes growing big when you took in the appearance of Wanda who was holding Natasha tightly.

“You look beautiful,” you stepped closer offering your arm to her, Wanda hesitated before taking yours her cheeks burning brightly while her eyes lowering shyly.

“You look good, too.” She replied softly, you chuckled winking at Wanda.

“I want you to have the best New Year’s celebration ever, we were supposed to go to Stepehen and Christine’s party but…since we can, I brought the party to you.”

You explained while standing in front you Wanda, the young woman furrowed her brows turning to the open door of the elevator then back at you. For Wanda you were a box filled with surprises, one after the other, you had always shocked her in ways she never thought possible. She gulped wincing when her spit went down her sore throat, closing her eyes she then lifted her hand to cup the side of your face stepping closer to you.

“I wish I could show you the same, our date was cut short last time,” she shook her head stopping any reply from you, you clamped your mouth shut letting her finish, “I’m sorry about everything, I still think I don’t deserve you…but I will make sure to be worthy of your love, of your company.”

Your heart leaped forward, and your eyes fluttered close when Wanda leaned in kissing you tentatively on the lips. It took you a moment, and soon the both of you were sharing the softest kiss you had ever experienced in your life. By the time the both of you parted, you two were equally flustered, smiling at the other with the same affection growing in your eyes.

“Well, then let’s go.” You said holding onto Wanda and leading her to the elevator where a very amused Natasha had waited all along.

When the doors of the elevator opened in front of you, you smiled hearing the gasp coming from Wanda. The young woman stepped forward glancing around the place while admiring the decorations and the people filling out the place. The night was completely dark, with a cold breeze traveling around the celebrations goers that were wearing heavy coats and drinking warm beverages.

The place had been decorated with lights and torches, tables were set up and many patients with their families and friends were sharing light conversation and food, doctors, nurses and staff members had also been invited and all of them had also chosen different tables to enjoy the music and the tension just before the clock hit midnight.

Wanda turned to you, and you could only smile at her shrugging.

“I thought we need to start the new year with a huge celebration, not on a hospital bed.” You said simply earning yourself a tight hug before she grabbed your hand dragging you down the different tables to the furthest part of the rooftop.

The lights of the city twinkling down the streets, and the music was sometimes interrupted by the host of the radio station someone had put on. Wanda approached the group and soon she found many familiar faces she had met before, she stopped dead on her tracks with you wrapping your arms around her midsection while putting your lips on her ear.

“I told you I call everyone.” You whispered making her shivered under the caress of your voice.

Wanda soon spotted her children talking with Balder and Morgan, while America was standing with her friends laughing and drinking alcohol free cocktails. At the other end was Hope with Reed and Sue, and nearby was Tony, Thor, Sif, Pepper, Stephen and Christine all sharing a good meal. There were to spots free right beside Christine, facing Eleanor Bishop that was trying very hard to not glare at you.

“Thank you.” She whispered at you, you winked at her pointing to the table.

“Let’s go to eat.”

“Here they are!” Tony stood up calling everyone’s attention, he lifted a hand then pointing at you and Wanda just as you two took your seats, “please everyone, let’s give it up for these two women that had shown us that the power of love can do everything and anything!”

You rolled your eyes with your lips drawing a smile, while Wanda dipped her face trying to covered the blush on her cheeks. Soon conversation resumed, and Wand found herself the subject of Christine’s fuzzing.

“Now, I know this may be difficult at first, but nothing spicy, or acid or anything like that, I chose your food for today, and only cold drinks. Well, lukewarm so as to not to hurt yourself.”

You chuckled grabbing your fork with your good hand watching as Wanda gaped at Christine who was like a mother hen trying to tell the young woman what was good for her sore throat. The table was buzzing with light conversation, the food was soon finished and the dessert along with the flutes of champagne were brought over. All around the rooftop people were getting ready to receive the new year, people glancing at their watches while others were just calling their loved ones.

“Are you guys ready?” America came from behind the both of you, you turned around seeing as America rested her stare on Wanda.

Wanda shifted nervously nodding while offering a tentative smile to the young woman. For a moment you waited, you knew America had been mad, she had told you as much as well as the heavy discussion she had with the redhead. But after you spoke with your sister, you thought whatever disagreement she had with Wanda had been cleared out.

“Wanda, I just…” America started, you could see as Wanda tensed clenching her fist while leaning back with her eyes lowering to the ground, “I’m sorry for all the things I said to you. It was not your fault, I just… Y/N is my family, and I almost lost her, I…”

Wanda shook her head placing a hand on top of America’s, her eyes going wide opened gleaming in disbelief.

“No, I’m sorry.” Wanda replied hoarsely, she put a hand on her throat standing up. “I’m sorry, I put you and Y/N in danger, I…”

America did something you never thought possible, she stepped closer wrapping her arms around the woman holding her tightly.

“Stop talking, you fool, you’re going to hurt yourself even more.” She said tenderly, “don’t apologise, I’m sorry for the way I treat you, it was not fair.”

America looked out of the corner of her eyes to see your smile there, she returned the smile before stepping back grabbing Wanda’s hand in hers before grabbing yours and joining them with hers wrapping around your joined hands with Wanda.

“I know there is no one better to be with my sister than you, just don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t.” Wanda whispered looking at you, you stood up intertwining your fingers with hers.

“I won’t either.”

“Good, now get ready is about to be midnight.”

Wanda turned to you, everyone was getting ready around you. You could see the hesitation in her eyes, with a nod of your head you locked your eyes with hers offering a comforting smile.

“It is going to be okay.”

“I don’t deserve her forgiveness.” Wanda replied, she closed her eyes allowing the comforting squeeze from your hand to warm up her heart.

“Whatever happens, Wands, I want to be right there with you. I want to live with you, to grow old with you…to love you, if you let me.” You said softly, “you deserve forgiveness, and you deserve happiness, Love.”

“I'm scared.” Wanda confessed while unable to tell you the reason behind her fear.

She didn't need to tell you, though. You knew, you could imagine the guilt and the fear she held inside her mind for everything that happened, for the things that came in between. You placed a soft kiss on her hair, putting her closer to you.

“Me too.” You replied, chuckling lightly, “but I prefer to be scared and have you by my side than miss the chance to be with you.”

“You're so sappy.” she leaned back offering a teasing smile you returned with a wink.

“Only for you, Princess.”

Wanda relaxed in your embrace, everyone started standing up checking their watches and grabbing the flutes of champagne.

“Okay everyone, it's about time!”

The music stopped and soon it was replaced for the local radio station in which the announcers were ready as everyone else to start the countdown to the new year.

The rooftop vibrated with excitement, families and friends came together, everyone talking and exchanging their new year's resolutions.

Wanda stepped back welcoming her children in her arms, and America stood right beside you with Kate hugging her from behind. Your eyes soon found those of Wanda and the man in the radio start counting.

“10, 9, 8…”

You chuckled when the twins jumped excitedly, Billy dragging his mom closer to you while also grabbing his brother.

Kate watched the scene with a softening stare kissing America on her cheek.

“You guys look like a happy family.”

“...3, 2, 1 Happy New Year America!!”

The fireworks broke into the sky, everyone gasped and celebrated while Wanda leaned in tilting her head and kissing you openly in front of everyone. Wanda never imagined her year would end in such a way, when she ran away from Vision’s grasp she did so with one thing in mind: To survive.

Now, standing on the rooftop of a hospital with a woman kissing her slowly, tentatively, she realized that love was possible, that being loved was something she also deserved, and that loving someone might not be as bad as she was led to believe. Just as you stepped back with a huge grin adorning your face, Wanda knew.

You two would be forever.

_______________________________________

Next Chapter: Wanda and Reader need to have that date, only family fluff and a bright future ahead of them. With some decisions to be taken, and Wanda finally giving in.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader

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solarpunkani · 1 year

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Milkweed Lovers Everywhere, Heed My Warning

By all means let me know if I'm wrong here, but if I'm not wrong then we're looking at a serious (at least to me) problem.

I've been trying to stray away from Tropical Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) and towards more native species in my area--things like swamp, sandhill, etc--and Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa) fits in that category for me. It's hard to find native milkweed plants in stores--even places I've gone to in the past that had a handful of native species are currently only selling Tropical Milkweed. Even still, I know that there's been a good bit of buzz around growing native species, and some stores I've visited have said they're trying to find vendors with native species--they're not only selling Tropical for lack of trying.

So imagine my surprise--and delight--when I go to Lowe's and see Asclepias tubersoa blazoned on a plant label!

And imagine my surprise when it's being sold right next to Tropical Milkweed and looks almost identical to it.

I was immediately suspicious--especially considering the red flower buds on the 'Butterfly weed'. I've grown Tropical Milkweed for several years, and while it's been awhile since I've seen a Butterfly Weed plant outside of a photograph, these definitely didn't look like what I'd seen. Not to mention, I'd only heard of Asclepias tuberosa flowering in orange or yellow--not red. Of course, at the same time, I'm not a professional botanist, and a quick google search did declare that butterfly weed can grow in red (though the images all look like asclepias curassavica to me...).

(Image from the Native Plant Database. Looking at this picture, I should've realized where this was going sooner...)

So I did the reasonable thing and bought two of them. I figured if the red buds somehow turned orange and were actually Butterfly Weed, then I'd be perfectly satisfied. If they turned out to be Tropical Milkweed, well, I simply would give them to my neighbor who's fond of them, or find something else to do with them.

(I feel the need to emphasize; there are a lot of people online who are in the 'if you plant tropical milkweed you're a horrible person and intentionally killing monarch butterflies' camp. I am not one of them; it's not invasive in my area of Florida, it just takes a little bit of extra managing in terms of cutting it back in October/November.)

I ended up in the same Lowe's again today, shopping for my mom, and took a peek at their plant selection. Lo and behold, I found the Butterfly Weed, and...

This sure does look like Tropical Milkweed to me, and to others in my gardening server, yet it's still labeled as 'Butterfly Weed.' Also, I didn't see any Tropical Milkweed on any of the shelves--at least, nothing labeled as Tropical Milkweed. Instead, all I saw was Tropical Milkweed disguised as Butterfly Weed.

This is, in my humble pollinator garden enthusiast opinion, a problem. At best, Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--is mislabeling their plants on accident. Which could cause problems if people are buying the plants and putting them in a place that's not quite the right condition for them, or create severe disappointment if someone's excited to grow the native Asclepias tuberosa only to end up with something else entirely. At worst? Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--are aware that people want to grow native milkweed and are either unable to or too lazy to grow them, and would rather try to get away with selling Tropical Milkweed--which has been growing increasingly controversial in some gardening circles--and still reap the benefits and profits of selling native milkweed species.

However, I'll be real? I'm not sure what exactly to do about it. So I guess I'm just letting everyone know; if you see 'Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa)' in your local Lowe's, at least double check. Otherwise, you may plant Tropical Milkweed/Scarlet Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) instead.

#milkweed #gardening #flowers #pollinator gardening #pollinator garden #Lowe's #tropical milkweed #butterfly weed #asclepias curassavica #asclepias tuberosa #outdoor gardening #flower gardening #ani rambles #out of queue #idk how legible this post is but I hope its at least SOMEWHAT legible yknow?

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 8 months

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This is a meta on Our Flag Means Death episode 5: The Best Revenge Is Dressing Well, Sir Godfrey Thornrose, The scene where he calls Ed a donkey, and so called "race science."

It has come to my attention that some of you apparently do not know what a phrenologist is.

*a note: I'm going to for the purposes of this assume that the guy played by Jeff Lorch is sir Godfrey Thornrose, I do not know this for certain but in my opinion even if he is not Thornrose the same principles still apply to him for reasons I will discuss in this meta.

So lets recap the scenes I want to touch on. At the beginning of episode 5 Stede is teaching Ed how to identify rich people cutlery like they're Barney Thompson and Vivian Ward in pretty woman. Stede bitches at Thornrose for not having enough spoons for Stede's liking. Thornrose responds "My apologies, I hadn't imagined we'd be hosting your kind."

Ed responds "My kind, what kind"

to which Godfrey responds "A rich donkey is still a donkey."

Ed then proceeds to scream at him and then orders Fang to skin him with a snail fork before throwing him overboard. To which Fang presumably responds by either skinning him with a normal skinning implement or forgoing the skinning step and just throwing him overboard, because who tf has time to skin a man with a snail fork.

I've seen some dogshit takes on this scene. I've seen it treated as evidence that Ed is exceptionally violent or abusive or has mood swings or anger issues or whatever bullshit. And I... Do Not Agree. You'll see why.

The next scene I want us to have in our back pocket is the first couple scenes with Gabriel and Antionette. When Gabriel and Antionette introduce themselves to Ed and Stede they reveal that Sir Godfrey Thornrose is a quote "Master Phrenologist." Stede is then expected to study Antionette's head. When he does he introduces his fake craft as "Phrenology, which is the study of the human head." He then takes a wild guess as to Antionette's heritage based on her skull lumps.

Content warning for like real old school racism ahead.

The reason Stede goes for the heritage is because Phrenology is a pseudoscience closely linked to other contemporary race science of the time. It was the idea that bumps on your head, thought to be caused by the pressure of the brain, could be used to identify your personality traits.

Phrenology gets really fucking racist, really fucking fast. Phrenology was used as proof that the white race was superior to other races, and as a justification for slavery and eugenics. Eugenics is the idea that you can improve society through breeding out "bad genes", which is almost universally popular among all types of racists, but the Nazis were big fans of it and there's a direct through line between the race scientists in the 1700s who were into phrenology and modern hate groups and neo nazis. I wanted to use an image here as an example of racist phrenology texts, but it's rough and I don't want to make a cut so I'm just going to link to the wordpress anthropology article I found the picture in, it's sourced and an alright place to start if you're into further reading.

With this information, I would like to use another example, that is relevant to the ethnicities in contention. A French physician who attracted huge crowds with his phrenology lectures, François-Joseph-Victor Broussais, once claimed that Maori people (as well as indigenous Australians) could never become civilized since he claimed they had no cerebral organ for producing great artists.

This is the context in which we need to understand the exchange between Ed and the French captain. I've seen some people claim it's about class and not about race, but Thornrose acknowledges Ed's wealth when he says a rich donkey is still a donkey. It doesn't matter to a man like Thornrose what Ed does or how rich he is or how well he can learn his fucking forks, he's still akin to an animal in this skull molesting freak's racist little mind. If a phrenologist, or even someone who's rubbing elbows with a phrenologist, calls a man of color a donkey they're clearly saying he's an uncivilized animal based on the shape of his face. That's how racists operate.

And Sir Godfrey Thornrose is not just any old racist, he's a racist spreading his ideology to other people, convincing them that people like Ed are inferior, that people like him should be subjugated by white people. He is clocking in for his shift at the racism factory creating more racists.

So basically what I'm saying is Ed should skin him, no quarter for genocidal maniacs. Basically I can tell you're either racist sympathetic or talking out of your ass if you think French captain was fucked up. It was antifascist direct action and I don't want to hear another word about it. I personally believe the only thing you can't come back from is death in terms of being a better person. I also believe that there are situations in which killing someone is more or less fine and you're never gonna catch me feeling bad for a fucking phrenologist when he compares an indigenous pirate to an animal and the pirate responds by doing what pirates do.

Killing Godfrey was based.

#ofmd #our flag means death #edward teach #blackbeard #edward teach ofmd #blackbeard ofmd #sir godfrey thornrose #cw racism #cw scientific racism #cw phrenology #Episode 5: the best revenge is dressing well #ofmd meta #ed teach #Ed “babygirl” Teach punches nazis

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desertdollranch · 27 days

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Kirsten's bedroom renovation

It's a sunny spring day in Minnesota Territory, and Kirsten is stuck indoors, helping with the spring cleaning. Her first task is to sweep the upstairs bedrooms--she shares one with her three siblings, and so it gets messy very quickly. But Kirsten doesn't complain--she remembers her previous home, a one-room log cabin on her aunt and uncle's farm. That was easier to clean, but it was hard sharing such a small place with six people. After a fire burned that cabin down, the Larsons bought a much larger house, the beautiful home they dreamed they'd have when they left Sweden two years ago.

As for my part in this, I created a bedroom for my Kirsten doll a few years ago, but I recently renovated it to make it look more like the illustrations in Kirsten's sixth book, Changes for Kirsten.

The walls in this illustration look like they've been finished with plaster, which was common in houses at the time. The light color would have come from local sources of limestone.

So most of the changes I made were to the walls and windows. I used printed photographs for the windows, and added the twelve-pane window frames over the images before printing. For the walls, I took down the boring white wood paneling. I imitated that plastered look using tissue paper stuck to the first layer of pale yellow paint, and then I painted another layer over the tissue paper.

The furnishings are basically the same, except for the trunk on the right side of this photo. She used to store her clothes in the top half of Felicity's clothes press, which I mentioned in my recent post about moving the clothes press into the parlor for Caroline to use. After I did that, I knew Kirsten would need a place to store her clothes, and what better piece than a smaller version of her trunk?

Most of the things in the above picture are not from Kirsten's collection. The bed was made by my grandpa when I was eight and first got my Kirsten doll. My mom made the quilt on the bed and the one on the rocking chair, the pillow and mattress on the bed, and the two darker gray cats. The foot stove next to the bed is Pleasant Company, and so are the shoes (including snow shoes) lined up next to the trunk. The rocking chair came from an antique store. I made everything else: both rugs, the cradle, the nightstand, the candle and book and stuffed cat on the nightstand, the cross stitch hanging on the wall, the shelves and everything on them, the painted round boxes at the foot of the bed, baby Britta's dress, and Kirsten's quilt square in the embroidery hoop.

This is a little wooden trunk I found at a craft store. I painted it blue and then painted on the decorative designs using stencils.

That's Kirsten's straw hat hanging on the wall, from her collection. My mom made the two sunbonnets.

I gave it a weathered look by lightly brushing on white and red paint.

The trunk can hold all of Kirsten's clothes. It has room for a few more dresses too. I have almost all of Kirsten's clothes; I'm only missing her baking outfit, skating coat, and promise dress.

I also made the gingham curtains for the windows. There's a lot of blue and white going on in here, so I wanted them to match the color themes.

Next to Britta's cradle are the round boxes I made to hold Kirsten's socks and ribbons, which are all Pleasant Company things. Her lunch box and bucket are from craft stores.

I remade her honey crate and the jars of honey. They now contain clear glue dyed with food coloring. I made her little gnomes too.

The rocking chair was an antique store find. It's perfect for her to sit with her baby sister Britta.

I also painted a little flourish on the end of her bed.

This definitely isn't all of Kirsten's collection--I have a few pieces hidden away underneath her room that won't fit here. That includes her actual big trunk that my grandpa made, her Saint Lucia wreath and tray that I made, her dishes set from her official collection, and some other small things that she doesn't need in her room.

#kirsten larson #changes for kirsten #kirsten's room #kirsten's bedroom #kirsten's cabin

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mask131 · 3 months

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The gods of Gaul: Cernunnos

Cernunnos is without a doubt one of the most famous gods of Ancient Gaul, and yet he is actually one of the most mysterious Gallic deities. Sure, he definitively marked the imagination of people - I mean he was literaly used as the basis for the Wiccan Horned God, and you will see lots of Cernunnos-copycats in fantasy RPGs and the like. But... we actually do not know the truth about this god, and despite everybody on the Internet trying to make it sound like we have an easy and simple summary of what he is, we only have strong theories and conflicting hypothesis.

I/ What we actually have

As with a lot of Gallic gods, Cernunnos exists not in legends or myths, but through a name and a visual. The name Cernunnos is found three times all on its own in Gallic documents. One was a Greek inscription from Montagnac that only says "This is dedicated to Karnonos of Alisontia". The other two are identical inscriptions found in Luxemburg (near Steinsel), votive inscriptions of wish-offerings merely saying "Deo Ceruninco". There is actually a fourth inscripton of the name Cernunnos - and it is from this one that we get the spelling we use today - but it is a special one. Unlike the other three, this one has a picture alongside it identifying the god visually. It is the famous "pilier des Nautes" found under Notre-Dame-de-Paris, the "pillar of the Nautes", the "pillar of Boatmen", considered one of the most important Gallic monuments (because it depicts a set of divine portraits with their names explicitely spelled out).

It is only thanks to this pillar that we know today that the many depictions of a male horned god found across Gallic art are meant to be Cernunnos. There are too many visual depictions of him to be listed here (sixty or so were found by archeologists), but among the most famous is the one I put a picture of above: the Cernunnos of the Gundestrup cauldron found in Denmark.

Here is what Cernunnos looks like on the pilier des Nautes:

So, we have a name and a bunch of pictures. Let's try to break it all down.

When it comes to the name, Cernunnos/Karnonos, it is commonly agreed by etymologists and those that studied the Gallic language that it means "the horned god". "Carnon/Karnon/Karn" was known to mean "horn", both in the sense of animal's horn and a blowing instrument - it was tied to the Gallic tribes known as the Carni and Carnutes, and to the Celtic carnyx. The "kern" part is also considered to be equivalent to the Old Irish "cern", which was associated with horned beasts. Some have pointed out that if the "Cern" of "Cernunnos" means horn, the "unnos" could be a suffix meaning "beautifully" - so instead of Cernunnos being the "horned god" or the "horned one" it would mean "He who is beautifully horned" or "He with beautiful horns". But all in all, his name stays connected to horns.

[But is it truly his name? This is another debate typical with the gods of Gaul: we do not know the differences between the proper names, the titles and the nicknames. It could be (to take a Greek comparison) like Hestia's case, where he names literaly means "hearth" but is a proper name ; or it could be like the "Old Man of the Sea" which was a generic nickname for a whole group of sea deities.

Now let's talk about the images of the god. Thanks to having so many depictions of him, we can identify recurring traits that define his visual.

Cernunnos always appears with his legs crossed, in a position (the "lotus" or "yoga positon" to take Asian terminology) that is considered, depending on the sources, either "very unusual for a god of Gaul", either "absolutely typical of Celtic representations of gods, warriors and heroes"... Well, he is almost always in the "lotus position" - in rare cases, he can be standing up. Cernunnos is also always wearing a torc, the traditional Gallic ornament, though he isn't always wearing it around his neck as one would expect: sometimes he holds it in his hands, other time it hangs from his antlers. Speaking of antlers: as we said, Cernunnos is a horned god, and he is usually depicted with antlers. But sometimes, more rarely, he rather sports goat horns - maybe it is a Romanization effect, as he got confused with Pan?

Cernunnos is always a male figure, though his actual age is unclear. Sometimes he is a mature and bearded man, but we also have "ephebe" depictions of him as a beardless youth - that some researchers even go as far as to describe as "child-like". Similarly, he keeps oscilatting between being a singular entity, and a triple-god with three heads or three faces. The disposition of the three faces can be really weird and freaky - for example, he can have a regular human head, and two small human faces growing from either side of his neck, or from the top of his head.

He usually always has a bag or basket with him, a bag that he eithers opens or that is simply sitting before him, spilling its content: sometimes the bag is filled with food, other times with coins, and other tims yet with grain. Cernunnos is usually sitting in the middle of a trio (as in two other humaoid or divine figures are by his side), or he is surrounded by various animals - which he can be seen holding with one hand, or petting near his lap. There are various animals he is associated with - we have seen him with stags, with bulls, with rats, with dogs, with lions, with goats... He is most notorious for being often depicted with the symbolic-mythical beast of Gaul known as the cryocephal snake: a ram-headed snake, whose exact meaning is still unclear to this day. However, Cernunnos seems to really like them: sometmes they just sit side by side, sometims he holds it by the throat, sometimes he feeds it, and other times two of them sit on his lap.

(This depiction above lacks any horns, but there are two holes at the top of the head implying that the horns were a different part of the statue added separately - which is very interesting in the theory of Cernunnos having antlers that "fall")

One of the problems with the Cernunnos visuals is that it is not clear where they stop, as we got a wide range of variations between the animal and the man. For example, there are strong theories according to which Cernunnos appears on the Strettweg chariot, as the tiny deer with oversized antlers that two men are holding (which would mean Cernunnos could be depicted as a full stag without human traits):

And on the opposite spectrum, a Gallo-Roman statue was found in Amiens of a fully human deity... except for one deer ear on the side of his face. One of the theories to explain this bizarre statue of the first century claims that it is an hyper-Romanized depiction of Cernunnos - though other theories do exist (for example, when the statue was discovered, it was originally believed to depict Midas, with a variation of the "donkey ear" punishment):

And you also have in Bouray a cross-legged god with deer legs rather than antlers or ears:

Given how "late" the visual depictions of the gods of Gaul was, and how the Romanization of Gaul strongly encouraged and favorized the depiction of deities as humanoids (to fit with the Greco-Roman deities), it is very likely that Cernunnos started as a divine stag, as fully animal, and then slowly, especially under the Roman influence, became more and more humanized... (There's also a fascinating case of antlered-goddesses at Clermont-Ferrand and Besançon, but that's for later).

II/ Some theories

Now that we have the name and the visuals done... What's Cernunnos deal? Again remember we can only make theories based on these fragments and their context - but we do not know for certain if it is the truth.

A: It is agreed that Cernunnos is a nature god, and a god of abundance. The fact he is half-stag, and usually depicted with animals, and even holding them in a gesture of domination or use, shows that he is a fauna god, which prompted some researchers to identify him as one of the avatars of the "Lord of Animals, Master of Wild Things" archetype of Indo-European myths. But more importantly we are certain that he dealt with abundance and prosperity - thanks to him always having a big bag of grain, food or money. He was very clearly a god of riches and wealth - be them natural (grain, food) or manufactured (coins). Some have highlighted the idea that this tied to the symbolism of "forests that have big strong stags in them are bound to be fertile places filled with resources". Cernunnos' ties to abundance cannot be denied because in some Classicized depictions of him (such as the silver goblet above), he is literaly seen holding a cornucopia, aka a horn of abundance.

Some people even want to push the domain further by thinking Cernunnos might have been a god of sexual and reproductive fertility - but this is not based on any visual or religious clue. Rather this theory ties on the European symbolism of the stag as a symbol of virility and reproductive prowess, so it is a purely contextual reading, to be handled carefully. We are only truly certain that Cernunnos offered lots of money, lots of grain, lots of food, and lots of animals (him being surrounded by animals might be an extension of the "I offer you this bag of grain" visual, since animals were hunted down for food, so he isn't just a god of good crops and economic riches, but also one that ensures a plentiful hunt).

B: There is a strong theory going around that Cernunnos might be a seasonal god, or a deity of the seasonal cycle. This idea comes from various elements pieced together - and which added with the A theory above, would make this go a sort of "Father Nature" figure. It all starts wth the European symbolism of the antlers and the stag in general: given the antlers fall and grow with the turn of the seasons, the stag has been used heavily in Europe as a way to measure the year or symbolize seasons. Some researchers theorized, based on how the size of Cernunnos antlers changes through depictions, and on how he is sometimes a beardless youth sometimes a bearded mature man, that Cernunnos, like the stag, had a seasonal cycle. For some he just loses and grows back his antlers (there is a Cernunnos depiction at Meaux with what seems to be the stubs growing back after antlers fall, which would support this theory), but others push it further by claiming the god died and was reborn each year with winter/spring - an idea inspired by the Indo-European archetype of the dying/sacrifical vegetation god.

There is a specific depiction of Cernunnos that ties into this whole - and I will have to trust Yann Brekilen's word for this, as I couldn't find any picture of the engravings he described. According to him, on the Gallo-Roman Germanicus Arch/Arc, by Saintes, there is a dual depiction of Cernunnos. On one side of the Arch, he is part of a trio: he is sitting crossed-leg with antlers on his head, but naked (usually Cernunnos s clothed in some ways). By his side there is a man armed with a club/mace (which might be tied to the "god with the mace", we'll see that in later posts), and a woman holding a cornucopia. Now, that's on one side of the monument - but on the opposite side, the scene is reproduced... with both the armed man and the antlers of Cernunnos missing, only leaving a regular cross-legged naked man, and the cornucopia-woman. Speaking of this cornucopia-woman: there are repeated talks and interpretations of any female figure by Cernunnos' side to be a "Mother-Goddess" or Earth-Goddess supposed to be the wife/companion/lover of Cernunnos. This is all part of an effort to make Cernunnos a "father-god" (which makes sense in some ways), and it ties into the whole reading of his myth as being a seasonal cycle (the god dying and resurrecting after impregnating his female counterpart ; something the Wiccan mythology for example reused in their beliefs), but... If you ask me, I am not really convinced? A lot of people insist on there being a "Mother Goddess" clearly by Cernunnos' side, but sometimes you see these people reinterpret a lot of the visuals, and it is not obvious that the female figure is with him (Cernunnos is usually surrounded by male figures rather than female ones). Plus, we know the Mother Goddess of Gaul tended to come in three (the famous Matronae) so... I am a bit doubtful of that, but that's just me and because of a lack of convincing evidence.

III/ Comparisons and equivalences

As I said in my introduction post, a lot of what we know about the Gallic gods comes from the syncretism the Romans operated with their own deities. And with Cernunnos it is... complicated. Because we do not know exactly who was the Roman equivalent of Cernunnos (since the Romans did not speak of him), and based on researches we have two likely candidates. It is very possible Cernunnos might have been split into those two Roman deities, or at least that his attributes led him to be interpreted as two deities mixed in one.

On one side, there is a very strong and popular theory that Cerunnos was the god Cesar, in his description of the religion of Gaul, called the "Dis Pater". "Dis Pater" was the Latin god that was equated and synthesized with the Greek Hades under the share nickname "Pluto", "the rich one". This was because Dis Pater was not originally a god of the dead in the old Italian religion - he was an underground god, indeed, but a chthonic god of riches and wealth, an earth-god of fertility (his very name meant "Rich Father"). This is what tied him to Hades, the richest of the Greek gods - and made him the new god of the underworld and the dead, Pluto. So, equating Dis Pater with Cernunnos makes sense as we do know that both deities were strongly associated with an earthly form of fertility: Cernunnos, just like Dis Pater, brought grain and earth-grown fruit, as well as precious metal (in the form of coins). Not only that, but Cernunnos was strongly associated with the ram-headed snake, and while we don't know much about this mythical being (typically a companion of male gods in Gallic art), it seems to have been a chthonian symbol, and perhaps even a form of guardian of the world of the dead (or a guardian of underground riches cousin of the dragons of legends). This is what led many to interpret Cernunnos as a chthonian deity, perhaps even an afterlife deity - a tradition that seems to have been in early Christian art, where Cernunnos was often associated with the "mouth of Hell" or the "entrance to Hades" (like the 9th century manuscript Stuttsgart Psalter, which illustrates Cernunnos in a depiction of the Christ descending into Limbo.

If Cernunnos is indeed Cesar's Dis Pater, then it would be extremely interesting, because Cesar wrote in his records that the peopleof Gaul believed Dis Pater to be their divine ancestor, and the "father of their race". Aka, the Gallic Dis Pater is meant to be an All-Father, the first ancestor of the Gallic tribes, and the origin of the human race (or at least of the people of Gaul). If Cernunnos is this Dis Pater, it would confirm his role as a "Father-God" and his links to a potential "Mother-Goddess". (It could also explain why he so persistantly wears a torc, as an emblem of the civilization and traditions of Gaul) If Cernunnos is also the Dis Pater, it would give him a role as a nocturnal god, since Cesar resumed in his texts (or rather "recaped" since he was doing a report based on Posidonius own records) that it was because the people of Gaul descended from Dis Pater that the druids measured the time not in "days" but in "nights"...

The other very likely candidate for the Romanized Cernunnos is the one we call the "Gallic Mercury". We know that Mercury was one of the most popular and widespread gods of Gallo-Roman gaul. Cesar did mention him as one of the most important gods venerated by the Gallic tribes before the omans arrive (though this would contadict the is Pater theory, since Cesar identifies Dis Pater and Mercury as two different deities in the Gallic beliefs). Still, Mercury was a god of commerce and riches before all - even more so than his Greek counterpart Hermes - so it makes sense that he would be present in the Gaul province of the Empire, which was big heart of commerce. And where Mercury has a pouch of coins, Cernunnos has a full bag of them... And in several Gallo-Romans depictions one of the two gods that surround Cernunnos is very obviously Mercury... [Several of the images in this post are of the altar of Reims, which depicts Cernunnos surrounded by Apollo on one side and Mercury on the other] And Cernunnos' presence on the Pillar of Boatmen implies he was tied to the fluvial sailors, and to the fluvial commerce and travels... And in Luxembourg we have Gallic depictions of stags vomitting coins, again insisting on how the stag was associated with riches... Even if you take Cernunnos as a chtonian god or death god, it ties to Mercury's role as a psychopomp inherited from Hermes ; and Mercury's presence by Cernunnos side on the altar of Reims for example makes sense if you consider one of the deities Cernunnos was conflated with was Pan (hence the goat horns) - aka, the son of Hermes... Everything is tied together into one big convoluted web of inter-mythologies.

And when it comes to comparisons to other Celtic mythologies, things are a bit... In French we say "vaseux" - basically there were parallels drawn between Cernunnos and Celtic figures of the Isles, but they rely on very meager if not unstable links. For example some have tried to identify the Cernunnos of Gaul with the Irish figure of Nemed (interpreted as a "stag-god" leading "stag-people" or "deer-people"), and in return the battle between Nemed and Balor for the land of Ireland was projected onto the scene depicted on the Arch that I described prior - a battle between the horned god and the god with the mace for the "earth-mother", the cornucopia woman, the land-goddess. The acceptance of this scene between the horned god and the mace god as a battle for the mother-goddess (which, I insist, was not PROVEN in any way and is completely hypothetic and theorized with no definitive proof - maybe the mace god is here to sacrifice the horned god for the cornucopia-woman, or maybe he is just here to cut off his antlers, or maybe the cornucopia woma cheats on Cernunnos wit the mace god, we cannot know), also led to vague comparisons being drawn to the story of Pwyll and Arawn and how they exchange each other's identities, but we are really in a stretch here.

More interestingly there is a Welsh comparison that could indicate a leftover of a Christianized Cernunnos in an Arthurian setting: the Owein tale (Mabinogi): Kynon, a knight of King Arthur's court, describes how in his youth he had to encounter an ugly knight clad in a black armor who had the information he needed to find his enemy. The knight lived by a "fountain" (a water stream) surrounded by wild and ferocious animals - and to give Kynon the information he needed, the ugly black knight struck a stag nearby, and the animal lowers its head in the direction Kynon must follow. It is very plausible that this supernatural knight who hits an informative stag and who lives surrounded by wild animals is a form of Christian censorship or caricature of a Cernunnos figure, going from a wise and benevolent stag-god to an ugly evil knight who abuses animals, and who has his duality human/beast split between the knight and the stag.

There were also tenuous elements that made people consider the Irish Conall Cernach (known for being one of the sidekicks of Cuchulainn) as a diluted version of Cernunnos as a "Master of Beasts" - more precisely an episode in "The Cattle Raid on Fraech" where instead of killing a monstrous snake, Conall somehow tames it and wears it as a belt, has been compared to Cernunnos' handling of snakes and ram-headed snakes. And don't even get me started on the many, MANY saints of Catholicism that are supposed to be leftovers or reinventions of Cernunnos (saint Ciaran of Saighir, because he tamed wild beasts including a stag ; or the saints of Bretagne Edern and Théleau both supposed to ride a stag instead of a horse...).

The complicated thing (well ONE of the complicated things) with Cernunnos is that he is tied to the stag, and the stag was one of the most prominent smbols and images of the medieval and proto-medieval imagery in Western Europe. You had lot of old mythology stuff that survived in modern days, but you also had lots of medieval symbolism and images (like how the flying stag was one of the symbols of the king of France), and a HUGE re-use of the stag by Christianity in various forms (from the antlers falling being used as a symbol of the Resurrection, to the hunt for the white otherwordly stag of Celtic myths suddenly becoming a hunt for Christ incarnate when a glowing cross appears above the stag's head...). As such it is hard to pin-point what the Gauls truly believed the stag meant, versus the stag symbolism that arose in the Middle-Ages.

To conclude this post, while I said I had my doubts with systematic identifications of Cernunnos as a companion of a Mother-Goddess, I want to briefly return about a fascinating trivia of Gallic researches: the existence of a female version of Cernunnos, a "Cernunna" we could jokingly say.

Little figurines and statues were found of a horned goddess - sometimes with antlers! - in both the area of Clermont-Ferrand (which was the domain of the Avernes folk) and around Besançon (the Séquane folk). Who were these goddesses? Local variations of Cernunnos? Sisters, daughters or wives of the god? Or completely unrelated deities? Were they one or several (some are more matronly, motherly figures such as the one with antlers above, others have Venus-like poses unveiling their breast and legs such as the bull-horned below)?

We will probably never know - but while they can be incarnations of this famed "Mother-Goddess" companion of Cernunnos everybody speaks about (and links to the importation of the cults of Demeter and Cybele in Gaul), it is VERY likely these statues date from the Gallo-Roman era and from a Romanized version of the Gallic religion. Indeed, they are all tied by their attributes - they hold a cornucopia, and a "patère" (sacred vase for religious libations). Attributes present in very Romanized Gallic goddesses (such as Rosmerta), but also in typical Roman deities (mainly the lares). Add to that how the adjunction of a male attribute (the stag antlers or bull horns) to a female figure is VERY unusual for Gallic depictions (where the genders are neatly split), while the divine androgyny was a feature of Greco-Roman mythology (the effeminate Apollo and Dionysos, the masculine goddesses Athena and Artemis, the mythical Hermaphrodite...), and it is very likely these statues of the "Cernunna" are the result of the Roman religion "breeding" with the Gallic beliefs...

#gods of gaul #gallic mythology #cernunnos #ancient gaul #religion of gaul #gallic religion #gallic gods #gallic goddesses

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juvenillia · 15 days

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~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 21: broken

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader

photo credits go to very talented @ave661

a/n: peeking around the corner, ehrm hey i am kinda back? sorry for my very long radio silence, as a lil excuse i got an extra long chapter for you guys, i hope you're still interested in this story. and dont worry i'll finish it, updates will just take me longer but they'll come! just leave a comment if you wanne be add to the taglist to not miss an updte, well let me know what you think! lots of loves jules

CW/TW: fluff, longing, teasing, mentions of angst, trauma, nightmares, suicide, rape, enslavery, loss of loved ones, torture

wordcount: 6.6k

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It was still early when Simon woke from what appeared to be some sort of clicking noise. Usually his eyes would've snapped open, but something was different. This wasn't the usual situation he found himself in the morning. He felt utterly relaxed and secure. His sleepy eyes went through the area. Though upon closer inspection of the room, he couldn’t identify the source of the sound. The common room was empty, the sound of your steady breaths filtering into his ears. He didn't dare to look up, fearing that it’d be one of those damn dreams.

But it wasn't. Your hand was still placed flat on his back, the other was nearly trapped in between his gloved ones. Closing his eyes once again, he allowed himself some more time to enjoy the moment, his head rising and falling with your soft breaths. You were still fast asleep, the situation causing a smile to tug at the corner of his lips for a few seconds before his face fell back to its usual resting stoic manner. Reminding himself, he couldn’t stay like this, especially not in this place, that's why he slowly pushed himself up, trying not to wake you during the process.

Sitting at your feet, he tugged you back under the blanket, causing you to shift and grimace in discomfort before relaxing once more. The corner of his lips twitching upwards again at the sight. It was the same peaceful face he saw so often before, when you fell asleep around the team and he'd carry you back to your bunks. How often did he have to pull himself out of your room, when he actually just wanted to stay in your company. And now, he was here, in your embrace. He shook his head, somehow in amusement and somehow in disbelief, and made his way to the other side of the room.

Quietly preparing some tea in the little kitchen corner, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was what a normal morning could feel like? His eyes occasionally dart back to your sleeping figure. He let himself dream for just another moment. Imagining how the mornings in his small apartment in Manchester with you by his side could feel like. Images of you wearing his shirt, sharing a bed instead of this stinky couch, laughing while enjoying your favorite tea. It appeared like one of the most peaceful thoughts he had in a long time. Just like last night was one of the most peaceful sleeps he ever had. He wasn't even sure if he ever thought of something like this. Not after Ghost came into his life, that was for sure. Almost all domestic thoughts flooded his mind and a smile clung to his lips, well hidden behind his mask. Everything about the possibility of a different life. A life he could and wanted to share with you, although he was quick to shake those thoughts aside. He hadn’t a different life, so he’d allow himself to cherish the little moments the world - you - could give him.

“What a beautiful…” Johnny's voice boomed through the common room, but got immediately interrupted. Simon signaled him to lower his voice, an open palm stretched out to him before pointing to your sleeping figure on the couch. Johnny’s eyes were filled with concern as he took your figure in. “Did she sleep here again?” You often escaped your room in the last weeks. Always explained it with noisy neighbors.

Simon only nodded, concealing the fact that you’d slept in each other's embrace and suppressing a smile behind the mask. He couldn’t let the Sergeant win this. Johnny started to make himself some coffee as Simon moved over to the couch, sitting down next to you in his usual spot. The cushions shifted beneath his weight as the scent of your favorite tea flooded your nostrils and you slowly woke from your sweet slumber. That was a little perk of being a light sleeper.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you looked up at him, nodding sleepily when he held out the cup of tea for you. The smile that adorned your face was grateful, cheeks flushed with heat when your fingers brushed his as you accepted the offering. Looking into his gaze now in the morning light you froze. There was something lighter in his eyes now, a softness permeating through the usual coldness. Beneath the warpaint, the chaos of high stress missions and the stoicism he always hid his emotion behind, something had been allowed to shine through. Something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“Thank you, Simon.” You sleepily said with a genuine and nearly shy smile on your lips. Soap watched on with mixed feelings while sitting in the armchair across from you. He was annoyed his Lieutenant still hadn't asked you out despite encouragement, and overwhelmed by the obvious pining. Still, he somehow enjoyed this show. He thought it was adorable how helpless the behemoth of a man became when it came to you. Even if Simon thought to conceal all those things, Johnny knew fairly well and in his opinion he already had won.

It was a lazy morning, you and the boys went separate ways, after sharing the preferred morning drinks, to complete the day's work. Stopping by the office to drop off Simon’s hoodie at his desk (again), you noticed a package sitting on yours.

“What’s in there?” Kyle skipped all polite morning phrases and just asked directly, coming to stand behind you as you opened the box. He hovered over your shoulder trying to get a better look. Was it still awkward how close you grew to all of them in such a short period of time? Eventually? Did you mind? Not anymore.

“You know Kyle, curiosity killed the cat.” You smiled smugly and closed the box again. “Need any help, mate?” Your glance wandered to the wall, at the map you produced over the last few days. Kyle shook his head no, still that usual soft smile on his lips. “Call me if you change your mind,” you said simply while patting his shoulder, before you turned on your heel, taking the box from your desk and one from your drawer, to bring them back to your room.

The day continued peacefully. The usual drills like working out with Johnny, taking a run with Kyle, looking after some recruits. Nothing too thrilling. But somehow, you felt uneasy around the recruits. Usually Simon would’ve kept you company but today you were on your own. Nothing you were afraid of, but you had a bad feeling in your stomach and you learned to trust that by now. So you stayed cautious, and you shouldn’t be disappointed in your feelings. The hour was late when you were called in to see Price in his office, your curiosity only growing when you met the familiar brown eyes of your Lieutenant. He held a little envelope in his hand, that he immediately shoved into his pocket as you walked up to them.

“Perfect. Just the two I wanted to see.” Price announced facing you, as you stood next to Simon. John’s usual soft features were serious and stern. You swallowed, fearing that he might have taken notice of your unprofessional behavior. Maybe some of the recruits had seen both of you this morning. Maybe that’s why you felt so uneasy around them, because they did report it to Price. Nothing so uncommon, nothing you haven’t seen before. Especially as part of a special ops unit. Price handed a file to his first mate before he continued and pulled you out of your thoughts. “Thanks to all our hard work, we tracked down the main center of actions and transactions. If we can get access to the bank accounts, we are as good as finished with the job. I want you two to go get it,” he explained while his gaze switched between both of you. “Skadi you’re the expert when it comes to hacking and Ghost is best at slinking about in the shadows.” Your shoulders loosened in relief as you realized it was just a regular briefing. But somehow you were sure that you weren’t off the hook. Price was way too observant. He knew his team too well to ignore the changes you brought.

“When are we heading out?” Simon handed you the file, and your eyes instantly started to read through the lines. His voice was calm as always.

“Early. 0300. Laswell will await you on the other side. Any more questions?” Price looked at both of you.

“Negative,” you said with ease, looking up at your Captain, whose glance switched the slightest. His eyes darted between both of you. It crossed your mind again, that he definitely knew and you would be totally damned.

“You got each other’s back. Right?” His open palms stretched out in front of him. Both of you nodded simultaneously, which made a smile appear on Price’s face. A well known smile. “Good. Dismissed.”

Heading out was easy as always. You bid your goodbyes to Johnny and Kyle who were heading out themselves later, trying to get rid of the next weapon delivery from the warehouses. Same task for Price and König. The mission was simple. Maybe it was because you and Ghost were able to work perfectly in tandem, a well oiled machine also in silence. Even after splitting up, it was no big deal. He was your missing piece and you knew that fairly well.

Staying in contact, you quickly found the room you needed. Thanks to Ghost taking care of anything coming your way, you could easily log into the computers and fight your way through the security softwares. You could watch Ghost over the monitor and warn him if any uninvited guests would cross his way while he made sure to have a way out ready.

“Skadi,” some time later Ghost’s voice echoed through the comms as you browsed through the various files, your eyes darting to the monitor. He didn’t need an affirmation that you watched him, he simply knew. He always did. “Look at that.” His head pointed onto different huge containers, the latest order of weapons you supposed.

Your eyes widened as you noticed the flag of the United States of America all over the containers. “What the hell.” Your eyes found his, as he looked directly into the camera. Even over the distance you had this special connection and an unsettling feeling spread over both of you.

An alarm setting off in the distance pulled you back and gave the sign to leave. “We need to leave.” Ghost’s voice was stern, as he immediately made his way back to your position.

“Give me one second.” Your eyes scanned through the files to get more information about the possible supplier. You needed to dig deeper. Russians and Mexican cartel working together was one thing, but what did god damn America have to do with it now? Was it just a cover for the deliveries? Or was something more behind it? You needed to find out.

“Skadi. Now!” It was a clear order as he stood in front of the door which separated you. You pulled the hard drive out and ran after Ghost, trailing close behind and trying to not gain any more attention. “Laswell sent coordinates of a safe house. 4 clicks away.” He already sent all the new intel her direction, to make sure she could find something out. Bursting through a door you spilled out onto the rooftop, frantically looking for an exit that wasn’t through the horde of enemies which flooded your original way out.

“How did the alarm even go off?” You pushed the door closed again while Simon barricaded it with a thick metal pipe. Afterwards you searched for a possible escape route.

“Doesn’t matter now, ’st need a way out of here.” Ghost joined your search for a safe way out, gaze scanning your surroundings until he found a pipe connecting to what looked like the sewerage system.

“It could lead into the lake.” You voiced, having remembered seeing one on the opposite side of the safe house as you entered. Not exactly ideal, but far better than shooting your way out, not to mention the added benefit of washing away your tracks. “We could give it a go.” You shrugged, watching as your Lieutenant already opened the pipe.

“So, a midnight swim?” He looked at you while placing the seal of the pipe onto the floor.

“How romantic.” The words crossed your lips before you could stop them. An awkward silence settled over the two of you as you screamed internally, slapping yourself for the unprofessionalism. While you had accepted the complicated bundle of emotions you held for him didn’t mean you had to shove them into his face. Hoping he’d take it as your usual teasing jokes. Especially after neither of you had talked about the night in the common room. But the sweet chuckle of your kneeling Lieutenant eased your mind a bit, and at the same time you cursed him for that same reason.

What you didn’t know was that your comment somehow struck a nerve deep down in him. He promised himself to not waste any more time and still he did nothing to help the situation to even make some progress. Something he really had to change. Nobody could know how much time you’d had left with your career paths, and still he couldn’t bring himself to take the first big step. “Ladies first.” He held out a hand to guide you into the huge pipe.

“What a gentleman.” You took his hand, gave him a sweet smile before sliding down the pipe, clutching to your rifle to not lose it. Simon waited a bit before following. Making sure to close the pipe before and to be sure that he wouldn’t directly bump into you during the process. To your fortune the pipe actually led into the lake, so both of you quickly made your way back to the shore. Completely soaked with the cold water. “Jesus. H Christ…Kate really owes me a hot bath,” you said while checking the hard drive while the cold crawled into your system.

Simon only laughed while he checked the coordinates. “6 clicks. Yer gonna make it?” His voice held a bit of concern, but his eyes were still stoic as he looked at you. Putting his rifle back in its usual position. He was still in survival mode.

“Well, it’s either that or dying out here in the cold.” Your voice was slightly sarcastic. Even as you were a year-long trained soldier who had been through hell and back, you still hated the cold. It was your greatest weakness, besides the inner demons you kind of summoned yourself. “Could be worse.” You added softly while putting the hardware away and pulling your own rifle back in position.

“’t least we ‘ave each other.” His accent grew thicker as his eyes burned themselves into you with that sentence. A sentence that held a deeper meaning that you knew right there and then. You blinked at him in confusion about the sudden change in his tone. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “...imagine havin’ Soap whinin’ the whole time.” He cleared his throat once more and averted his gaze into the direction of the safehouse. Johnny could get whiny when he had enough and the mission was as good as over, but he merely did it to annoy his teammates rather than to be actually complaining. It was his way to ease the mood after a long and draining mission. With a sweet laugh of yours you started following Simon’s lead, which would bring you to the safehouse. Waiting for your pick-up after another successful mission.

It took you a good amount of time to arrive at the little cabin. It was nothing special, but well hidden. So, you actually could get some rest and maybe a bit of warmth into your soaked bodies. Simon held the door open for you to step in, after that he locked it and made sure to barricade it. The cabin itself was small, only two rooms. Something like a living room with an old couch in it, which you moved so it faced the door. A little kitchen corner, smaller than the one in the common room back at base and it was definitely out of order. And a small bathroom. Only a sink and a toilet that didn’t seem to work either. “Cozy.” You exhaled while stripping out of your tactical vest and placing it onto the little wooden shelf Simon used as a barricade for the door.

“Could be worse,” he repeated your sentence from earlier while he also pulled himself out of the vest and jacket. Slowly slipping out of his complete survival mode. “Seems like Watcher was prepared though.” He pointed at a duffle bag sitting on the ancient looking couch. Simon leaned against the shelf while you opened the bag.

“Hell yeah!” You pulled out some more civilian, but more important dry clothes. “Prepared as always. Even packed a spare one for you.” You pulled a casual black balaclava out of the bag. You smiled at him while handing him the soft and dry fabric. Nobody followed you here, nobody knew you were here besides Laswell and the driver who’d pick you up. So why not change into dry and warm clothes before the next life or death situation awaits you?

“Maybe we'll find some towels as well,” he said calmly while taking the black mask out of your hand. His gloved fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. Before he went to the bathroom to look for said utensils, taking the bigger shirt and pants out of the duffle bag and with him.

“Well, no luck therefore.” You could hear his voice with ease from the other room, followed by a shuffling of clothes. You decided to take that time to quickly change out of the soaked bodice and exchange it with the simple shirt Kate packed for you. As well as you switched the wet cargo pants against the ones out of the bag. Getting out of the soaked fabric wasn’t that easy as it clung to your skin. It took you a moment longer than usual, a moment that granted Simon a view he’d never forget. Standing back in the room, the wet clothes in his hands, as he gulped at the sight of your ass in nothing more than the wet panties that fitted you like a second skin. His hands clutching tight at the fabric in his hand. He had to force his eyes away. It wasn’t appropriate, he knew that, but he couldn’t suppress the burning in his abdomen. A feeling that was quite unfamiliar for him.

“Lieutenant?” Your innocent voice dragged his attention back to you, while you couldn’t even imagine that he might peek. “You broken?” It was a teasing comment as you sat down on that stinky old couch after. A place most people would’ve been disgusted by, but you rested on worse things.

“’m good.” His answer was almost shy as he walked over and leant against the wooden shelf in front of the door. Placing the clothes down. You nodded as answer and rolled your shoulders back. Why did you suddenly feel so uneasy, almost nervous? Still you couldn’t help but take in the sight in front of you. It was rarely that Simon wore a plain shirt and jeans around you. Kate made sure to pack some very casual clothes in case you had to take cover. So it really was an unusual choice of clothing for the man in front of you. Most of the time on base he’d still wear some tac trousers and a hoodie. Still you could get used to this sight. Your eyes stopped at his arm. Or better said at his tattoo, staring at it a moment too long.

Simon chuckled, what immediately brought your eyes up to his masked face. “But ‘m the one with a staring problem, hm?” He laughed while crossing his arms in front of his chest. His teasing comment made you smile while leaning a bit further into the couch.

“Maybe I’m just a fan of tattoos?” It wasn’t a complete lie, more of a half-assed excuse. You’ve never seen his sleeve complete. He preferred to wear concealing clothes rather than revealing. Having his beefy arms so clearly on display did something to you, but his tattoo indeed caught your interest. “Never saw yours completely, that’s all…” Before you could continue the sentence, you could hear a deep exhale from him, followed by Simon pushing himself up from that shelf and sitting down next to you on the couch. Knees and body facing towards you. Both of your rifles were leaned against the couch on each side, giving easy access just in case.

“Go on ‘en. Take a look.” His voice contained that challenging undertone again, while he held his arm into your direction. It made you sit up straighter. Your eyes looking into his eyes before averting down to his arm. Taking in the different images, which built the whole piece of art together. He was so close next to you, and still it felt like you were worlds apart. You could feel his gaze burning on yourself, as your own eyes got hooked onto a specific part of his tattoo. A pair of dog tags. Your fingers twitched and before your brain could stop them, your hand reached out to his arm to twist it a bit to take a closer look. He tensed at your sudden touch, but he didn’t interrupt it. Too curious what you’d do again and where it’d lead you. Your fingers brushed gently over that spot on his arms, your brows furrowed slightly as you took the symbol for a fallen soldier in, asking yourself who he had lost on his way that was worth the daily reminder.

Simon observed every move you made, every twitch of your fingers and eyes. He took in the concerned features of your face and another deep breath left his lungs. C’mon Riley, she’s fuckin’ worth it. He mentally punched himself, before he found his voice again. “’ey’re mine.” It was only a whisper, something so uncommon for him, but it was enough that your head tilted in his direction. Instantly meeting his piercing and unreadable gaze. The teasing fractures lingering in between completely vanished. There was nothing more but sorrow and regret in them, but also trust. You couldn’t make out what he really wanted to tell. “Reminder for ‘e day Simon died.”

Your eyes darted between his, processing what he just said. There were so many questions circling your mind, but you couldn’t say anything. It was like your tongue was tied and you didn’t want to dig deeper into that, to push him even more. The statement alone was more than you thought he'd ever tell you. Your fingers lingered on his forearm, gaze turning back to them and your face relaxed a bit. Simon literally was your calming spot. Even with the storm of thoughts in your mind, you felt relaxed with him next to you. Not to mention the warmth his body provided.

His eyes trailed from your soft features to your hand lingering on him, over to this daily reminder. It was a part of him, of his past. The day Simon Riley died, and Ghost was born. It took him plenty of therapists, and a lot of effort to become Simon again. But here, alone with you, it wasn’t hard at all. The feeling of your somehow calloused and still soft hands on his skin. The sound of your calm breaths. It was like Ghost didn’t need to exist. Did it scare him? Eventually. But he needed that. He wanted it for himself more than anything. His hand found yours, as his eyes lingered on your knuckles. A deep scar was sitting right between the first two digits. It was a shame how much you already had to endure, he thought. The scar didn’t look old. Not as old as he supposed it to be.

“What?” Your voice was calm, but his sudden movement surprised you. Never before did Simon initiate contact with you, if not for work purposes of course. His bare thumb brushed over your knuckles, over the damaged skin. It was a different sensation to feel his skin onto yours. You thought his hands to be rougher, but you felt nothing but a soothing tingle. His thumb stopped over the deepest part of the pointy scar.

Before he could even ask, you responded. “Oh…” A desperate chuckle left your throat but got stuck. “It’s … It’s nothing. It was after a nightmare…”, you paused for a moment. Why did everything feel so natural when it came to Simon Riley? You didn't know, but you knew that it was so easy to open yourself up around him, even if he never demanded it or insisted for you to tell him about your past. It just felt easy. “... of Randy’s death…” The chuckle was completely gone, but the softness remained in your tone. “I was mad at myself, again… and I punched a mirror because I hated what I saw. A shard got stuck.” You explained while he pulled your hand closer, to take a better look. His eyes were soft as they looked back at you. He didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t need to. His eyes told you everything you needed to know. It was the same one thing you always saw in those brown orbs:

I understand. You're not alone.

He slowly let go of your hand, to push the sleeve of his shirt a bit up. Hesitant first, but nevertheless he revealed a weirdly shaped scar. Two dots, they looked way too small on his thick arm. “My… father…” He started to be hesitant. He took his time while his chest felt heavy. Simon had never told anyone else besides Price, but he knew that you deserved this. “He had some weird…hobbies…” Simon’s eyes were pinned onto the wounded skin. “Brought fuckin’ snakes into our home… wanted us to become brave…” You absently reached out to the spot. Your thumb circled around it while your hand couldn’t reach around his whole arm. “Said that’s how we’d become real men.”

Brows furrowed, as your brain processed all the information. Your eyes found those dark ones again. Just like him you didn’t respond to his words. He didn’t need any pity. The look in your eyes was enough for him. A glance full of understanding, of empathy and at the same time adoration. Something he always found in your eyes. Even after the darkest moment, they brought a light into his life. A warm feeling did spread in his chest. That was something he couldn't let go off.

You swallowed the lump back in your throat while pulling your hand back. Somehow this became the time you reveal your lifes to each other. This was the turning point you never thought could happen. Simon let you in, he let you see his soul. So the only thing you could do was repay the amount of trust. Aiming for the hem of your shirt, you slowly pulled it up. “Back when I became Lieutenant,” you started slowly, but it was so natural to talk about it. Completely different sensation to talking to a therapist.”, they sent me out to take care of some hostages. I took König with me. It is his specialty.” You pulled the hem higher up, revealing a huge burn mark beneath. From the left side of your abdomen to way higher was nothing but burned skin. “It was a trap… a set up. I miscalculated the whole thing. König saved my life, and in the process, he burned nearly half of his face and upper body. Still feel fucking guilty about it when everything I got was… this.”

Simon slowly reached out to let his hand stroke over the burned skin. Your tense shoulders relaxed as his hand stroked over your flesh, while your heart started pounding against your chest.. His hands were much softer than you ever expected and his touch so warm. They came to a halt. But not on that injury you told him about, it was a bit lower, a scar he was too familiar with. His hand took the grip of your waist, gently but destined. His warm hand lingering over the scar you got back in the chem factory. The scar he caused, the one he felt immense guilt for. He pulled you a bit closer, his forearm resting on your thigh by now, he didn't dare to let go of your waist. You only shook your head knowing about his internal fight, signaling to him that it is fine. Even if he wanted to apologize another time; he didn’t. But he decided something different.

Simon’s head hung low for a second, you could see how the wheels in his head kept turning and working, before he took his free hand to pull up his shirt. Mentally he was having a fight. Simon vs. Ghost. The familiar fight he always had when it came to you. His other hand stayed on your waist, glued onto that spot even when your shirt was already down again. His hand felt like it belonged there and you couldn’t mind after all.

His free hand revealed his bare stomach and part of his chest while pulling the shirt up. If this were a normal situation between civilians, then you’d be already on another. But this was anything but normal. You both open to another in a way that was more intimate than anything you have ever witnessed. It made your heart ache. There were several scars planted onto his perfect body, but one stood out.

It was just below his chest, above his rips. His free hand pointed it out before he looked into your eyes. His glance held nothing but trust as your hand already reached out and you placed your flat palm onto his rib cage. You could feel his muscles flex beneath your touch. You could feel how his chest heaved to let go of a deep breath. A breath he didn't notice to hold in. “I…I once was captured.” He started slowly; his voice was so low and nearly trembled. You just knew that this was hard for him to talk about. “They tortured me. Tried to break me.”

He still faced you but his eyes shifted into the distance. Another deep breath followed while you listened carefully, keeping track of every word. “Raped me. Hung me from a hook which they put through my ribs.” Your eyes went back to the spot your hand was placed on, your thumb slowly brushing over the spot said hook left. Simon knew that even after all those years he could still feel the pain within these scarred skin. But suddenly here, in this decrepit cabin, with your soft touch it felt okay. “They even buried me alive. They…he took everything from me.” A pathetic chuckle left his throat, while his eyes focused onto your figure again. “But Ghost came back.”

The hand on your waist gently squeezed you, while the slightest smile tugged at the corner of your lips and suddenly you realized the real meaning of his tattoo. Suppressing the need to say something, it became an unspoken deal. Telling each other about those things without any commentary. Because it was easier that way. Because you literally knew what the other would say about it anyways, because you did understand. You always understood each other. You were his missing piece and he was yours. That’s what you really needed to say to each other and still, neither of you could.

Maybe those emotions were misplaced in this very moment, but he trusted you enough to tell you all of that and you trusted him. You withdrew your hand and went for the strains of your hair sitting on your shoulder. You tilted your head to the right side to reveal your throat. A deep scar just sitting at the side of it. A scar Simon already had seen during the time you were unconscious in the infirmary. His hand immediately reached out to lay soft over it. It made your breath hitch for a moment. “I once…” You started but could feel how the air left your lungs. Simon squeezed your waist once more. Just a sign of comfort, of reassurance to take your time. One hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder. “Before the 141… before the Wolves… there was someone.”

You averted your glance from his. Staring down to your lap where your hands found each other. “He … I … “Simon’s hand wandered from your shoulder to your cheek. Taking a firm grip and you instantly leaned into his touch. Closing your eyes at the comfort he brought you, the strength to go on. “… we made a promise. We’d rather see the end together or we’ll go down below with each other.” Biting the inside of your cheek he didn’t hold, you looked back at him. “He did go… and I couldn’t keep my promise.” A burning sensation spread through your throat and you could feel tears building up in the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you cried in front of a person that wasn’t Randy nor König. “I didn’t succeed.”

Your words let his stomach turn. The vicious look in your watery eyes, a look he knew too well. He pulled you a bit closer, your knees now trapped between his thighs, while his thumb caressed your cheek. In this moment he wanted to break the silence, to tell you so much, he wanted to thank god that you couldn’t keep that promise. That he got the chance to meet you. That you had changed his life and point of view. His masked forehead tilting down to rest against yours by now. His eyes closed while your hands were still clutching on another. The tears stopped. His touch sent shivers down your spine, the coldness was completely gone as you leaned more into him. Your heart was pounding in your chest and still you felt nothing but save.

Before you could start to enjoy this closeness, he pulled back. His hand leaving your face, he didn’t want to force you to look at him, as his thumb hooked under the hem of his mask. He didn’t want to pressure you to do anything. “’ose folks.” He slowly pulled the black fabric up, revealing his chin covered in a blonde stubble, something you had seen often before during your night smokes. But he kept pulling the fabric and with every inch he pulled up, he knew that Ghost had finally lost this fight. “They didn’t stop. For nothing.”

Your heart was nearly exploding as the mask slipped past his lips, past the tip of his nose. You couldn’t help but stare. His upper lip was parted through a huge scar that reached his cheek. It was on his right side, the side that was always hidden when he sat next to you. His nose crooked. Your hands let go of each other as you reached out to let your thumb hover over the scar, over his lip. Not daring to touch it.

“Wanted to mark me in every way possible…” His thumb let go of the mask to let it sit halfway on his face. Already revealing some of the warpaint on his cheeks. He tilted his head slightly so one of your hands cupped his cheek, just like he did with you before, and he nearly melted under your delicate touch.

Your free hand reached for the mask, pulling it the slightest to see if he’d intervene. But he didn’t, he only closed his eyes, and you pulled the mask completely off his face. Revealing his messy blonde hair underneath. Some more scars all over his face, mostly covered by the black paint. He opened his eyes once more as you didn’t move any further. Breath caught in his throat, bracing himself to find any sort of disgust or regret, as his glance were pinned onto yours but he found nothing but adoration.

As you took in all the features of his face, you couldn't help but trace some of his scars with your finger. Soft and carefully. Like he could break any second under your touch, but he did nothing but absorb even the slightest touch. Simon Riley was nothing less than perfect to you. He was equally handsome as pretty and every part of his damaged skin told a story. A story you were a part of now and you couldn’t wait to write the next chapters.

You were sitting closer together than before, the hand that held onto the black fabric lingering on his thigh as you leaned just a bit more into him. Your lips brushing only the slightest over the scar on his cheek. So close to his lips, but still not there yet. Still enough to make him squeeze your waist another time. Your thumb caressing his cheek afterwards. A moment so short that Simon asked him if that really happened. He wasn’t the person to grow nervous or lightheaded, but right now he felt as helpless as a kid again, but for the first time in a good way. Somehow awkward and still so hopeful. His free hand found your other waist, as his now bare forehead was pressed against yours.

Nobody said anything anymore. You just stayed in that moment. Both found more than you could’ve ever wished for. Both of you were broken, shattered into pieces. But Randy once told you that even a broken piece could become a whole. Maybe he was right. Because right here, in that cabin in god knows which forest, both of you found some peace. Some solace. You found an intimacy stronger than anything you could’ve imagined. You found something neither of you thought could ever happen to you.

His hands held you firm by your waist, while you clung to his cheek. Foreheads pressed against each other. No words were needed anymore. Nothing left to say, as he pulled away. Only the slightest. Only to be able to look into your eyes again. By now you were sure, that the thing you slightly witnessed in his glance was hope. Something you thought yourself had lost.

The slightest smile tugging at his lips, causing you to do the same, as his eyes darted between yours and your lips. You could feel your heart exploding beneath your ribs as he leaned in again. Different than before. His head slightly tilted, his nose only merely millimeters away from yours. You could feel his hot breath brushing over your skin and you closed your eyes, entrusting him with whatever he’d do. And Simon acted. He didn’t listen to the internal screams of Ghost. He didn’t think with his brain. He did something he thought he had forgotten: He listened to his heart. It would only take one more second till…

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