#also...it stuns me that you’ve heard about my tags and actually care enough to read them

[cas-rivaille]

HELLO, DEAR!

Undertaker here! How are you today?

I was thinking the other day and I remembered an idea of mine I requested some time ago to another blog and I wanted to see your point of view as well, if you're comfortable with it ofc! I'll change it a bit because I have more ideas about it than before.

What if, hear me out, Obey me!MC was Sukuna's vessel??

I was thinking about a Female!MC but if you want you can keep them gender neutral (I don't mind!). So let's get into it, shall we?

Some facts about MC before the Devildom:

- They've already eaten all Sukuna's fingers

-But they are able to keep him calm inside themselves because over the year they've been together, MC decided to approach him more (Ya know if you have to die with/for someone, at least know them better)

-Sukuna took a liking to the MC, even though he would never admit it. (I mean- They always visit him in his domain to talk to him, read together, play cards (yes. You heard me. The king of curses loves Poker and UNO) or chess, they always ask him where would he like to go eat something, offer him some of their food to let him try new things, ect. Sometimes, but only SOMETIMES, they let him take control (not fully but they both can talk from the same mouth and he has control over one side, while MC has control over the other one))

- Having said that, Sukuna's still a stinky sassy bastard King. He's still rude, acts like he doesn't care about them and always finds a way to let them down when they're too happy. If they're sad though, he doesn't hurt them more. Sometimes MC even asks him advice whenever they're in doubt and after his bulling he actually gives pretty good advice (if you consider extreme violence a good advice that is)

Anyway, MC was going to get executed when suddenly they fell into Devildom. Their file didn't mention Sukuna at all and MC noticed that because when they arrived covered in talismans and chains the demons were confused about it. So, they kept the King a secret until lesson 16.

After Belphegor's crushing hug, while MC (the one from the original timeline) is in Mammon's arm, before Barbatos Thanoses the other timeline, Sukuna heals them and takes fully control of their body (the tattoos, the fangs, the long black claws, the other pairs of eyes and arms appear).

Now, HOW would the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos react?

If it is too much or I did something wrong, feel free to ignore this! It's okay! Love you and have a good day!

OH MY GOD ?? THIS IS FANTASTIC THANK YOU OMG !

(i think i'm gonna do it hc style for the individual characters feelings but also some dialogue n stuff and each hc thing for each character is written as like in the game like they all like MC except belphie for obvious reasons)

tags: swearing, lesson uhhh smth spoilers ?? i think like 16 ?? (lmk if i need to tag anything else)

also hi ‘taker🥺🥺 i’m good today,, had a bit of a rough morning but i got to see my partner so i feel better !! how are you ? :D

and without further ado..

MC who is Sukuna's Vessel

- hold up

- hold the fuck up

- it was confusing enough when there were two MCs and one of them was near death in mammon's arms

- but now the injured MC gets healed and comes back to life ? but has another set of arms and eyes and is covered in strange tattoos ?

- then the other MC disappears ?

- when the demon MC starts talking, their voice is different and what-

--

"What the fuck did you to do MC?" Sukuna hastily spits out, checking the body for any other injuries. MC's voice is back and talking out of the same mouth.

"Sukuna, stand down," MC says.

"But he almost killed you ! Without me we wouldn't be standing here right now !" Sukuna argues back.

"I'm aware of that, but we have to be civil about this and talk to them," MC responds sternly.

"Then I want to be present for it. I'm not letting anything happen to you- I mean me. Yes me because I die if you die and I'm too godly to die," Sukuna rambles out before retracting the other set of arms but leaving the tattoos. He opens one of the eyes and forms a mouth on MC's right cheek to watch and participate in the conversation.

All the brothers and Divolo looked stunned at the scene that just happened.

"Questions ?" MC jokingly asks.

--

Lucifer -

- what ?

- questions ? is MC joking ?

- who the fuck is talking out of MCs body and what jurisdiction does he have

- isnt MC supposed to be human ??

- what does this mean for their relationship ?

- why did MC keep it from him ?

- he looks at dia and barbatos with the most confused face

- looks back at MC equally confused

- def hurts his pride that he didn't know

--

"Explain"

Lucifer's confusion turns to anger because that's the only way he knows how to cope/react to this.

Sukuna starts talking.

"Show a little more respect. I'm a king after all."

"Don't be an ass," MC shoots back. MC looks at Lucifer a little embarrassed.

"Uh, so this is Sukuna. He's the king of curses ? We kind of share a body because... uhh... it's a very long story but i mean the gist of it is I ate his thousand year old fingers ? There was 20 of them because he had two sets of arms like you saw before- it was very gross- but i had to because of the energy they posses ? When you brought me here and I was covered in seals and chains, was when I was about to be executed because I have all of Sukuna in me. So,, he can do stuff like heal my body and give me cool powers ? I don't really know what else to say." MC rambles using awkward hand motions and finishes by scratching the back of their head.

"Way to make me sound like a total fucking loser," Sukuna glares at MC.

"For the love of god stop talking-" MC shoots back.

--

Mammon

- huh ? someone has been sharing a body with his MC the whole time ?

- were they present the whole time ?

- did they see him acting like an idiot in love ?

- was sukuna there during e v e r y conversation he's ever had w them

- never felt more insecure and betrayed tbh

- why wouldn't you tell him ? he was your first

</3

- wants you all to himself

- doesn't want to share you with some four armed idiot

--

"So he's just, there all the time ?" Mammon asks.

"Not really? He has a headspace and he usually just chills in there but he can watch what's going on if he wants to." MC responds.

"That makes me sound lazy," Sukuna complains.

"Well if you don't like how I describe you then maybe you can talk about yourself. You're very good at it," MC smirks.

"Fine. I can do whatever I want. We can trade who has control over MC's body. I have a large supply of cursed energy and will beat the shit out of the next person who touches MC," Sukuna glares at Belphie.

"Yeah beat them in poker maybe. But not mariokart. You suck at video games in the headspace," MC laughs.

--

Leviathan

- was that how MC was so good at video games ?

- because they spent hours on end with this guy in their head playing video games ?

- why didn't MC come to him to play games ?

- why is MC okay with sharing a body with Sukuna ?

- why can he be the one to share a body with MC ?

- why was MC playing video games with literally anyone else ?

--

"So let me get this straight, you are his fingers and now you share a body ? How does that even work ? That sounds like something out of the manga 'My best friend ate some ancient object and now shares a body with an immortal warrior'" Levi questions MC.

"Okay so, Sukuna lived a really long time ago. When he died, the only thing that survived were his fingers. They each hold an incredible amount of cursed energy and it's only his fingers so from there you can imagine how powerful he was with the rest of his body," MC explains.

"Okay but that doesn't tell me why you ate the fingers ?" Levi raises an eyebrow.

"Oh. So I went to a high school for Jujutsu sorcerers, which are people who can manipulate cursed energy, and once I ate the first one to save my friend from dying, my choices were to die now or eat all of Sukuna and then be executed because he would die with me," MC says as if them dying was nothing.

--

Satan

- why has he never heard about Sukuna in any of the books he's read ?

- he historically doesn't exist in anything the devildom has book-wise

- so who is he ?

- needs to find out everything he can about him

- is there a way to separate MC and Sukuna ?

- his blood is boiling at the thought of MC sharing a body with someone

--

"So you've basically had super human powers this entire time and elected to not tell us ?" Satan glares at MC.

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds bad. I just didn't want you all to meet Sukuna because he has a lot of anger issues and is quite an asshole and I was trying to avoid this entire conversation that is happening," MC sighs.

"Rude," Sukuna says.

"Anger issues. You think we couldn't deal with this ? Are you serious right now ?" Satan asks.

MC shrugs their shoulders nervously.

"How much do you actually know about what sharing a body with him does to you ?" Satan asks while looking at the small mouth and glaring.

"I mean, I get these marks because he had them when he was alive. He was also so powerful to the point he had four arms and another set of eyes, like you saw before. I get those when he takes over mostly, but I can kee him restrained. But the eye thing is why I've always had slits under my eyes because the eyes are the most common thing to show up. The arms don't really. But it's entirely painless so don't worry," MC somewhat calmly explains.

--

Asmodeus

- those marks make MC look so good wtf-

- not the time

- so this Sukuna person lived a thousand years ago ?

- what was this about jujutsu sorcery ?

- what even is that ?

- asmos not the brightest on the block but from the looks on his brothers faces none of them know what the fuck MC is talking about either.

- they've explained a little bit of it b there's still some missing info

- what is sharing a body really like

- how much of MCs body can change to be like Sukunas ?

--

"So how much of your body can he control ? What can he heal ? Could he bring you back from the dead ?" Asmo curiously asks.

"He can't control much because it's my body and I have a lot of raw power by myself. I don't know if he can bring us back from the dead. I don't think so though or else the Jujutsu school wouldn't have tried to execute me. He used to be able to bring us back when I hadn't eaten all of his fingers, but now I don't think he can," MC explains.

"So why do you let him live in your body if he can't do much for you ?" Asmo questions.

"Well one, I don't think there's a way to get him out-"

"I'm still here you know," Sukuna interrupts.

"You've made that clear," MC says before continuing, "And two he can do stuff for me. It's like a symbiotic relationship. I give him a host and he protects me."

--

Beelzebub

- protects MC ?

- that's his job

- why is someone else protecting MC ?

- overall confusion

- even tho MC has gone over it multiple times, he doesn't get how or why Sukuna is in MC's body

- maybe it's the shock

. was this why MC could challenge him to armwrestling and almost win ?

--

"So how long has he been in you ?" Beel asks.

"About a year," MC responds.

"Can he make you live longer aside from healing you ?" Beel asks hopefully.

"I'm sorry, I don't think so..." MC says while looking at the ground. They cross their arms. They look small, as if they aren't small enough compared to him already.

"So, what does this mean ? Now that your secret is out... are you going to stay in the devildom with us ? Or do you have to leave ?"

" If I leave I'll surely be executed when I go back to the human world. If I stay I don't know what will happen to me, but it's not up to me. It's up to you guys if you want me to stay. I understand if you want me to go, I was harboring a big secret and it's probably unnerving to know that you're never truly alone with me, but Sukuna actually cares about my boundaries even though he acts like he doesn't. There are some pluses and there are some drawbacks but ultimately you have to decide." MC responds, looking from brother to brother then at Dia and Barbatos

--

Belphie

- MC ? dead if you back to the human world ? doesn't bother him

- he doesn't care

- he hasn't known MC long enough to care

- diavolo may have told everyone that MC was a descendant of human Lilith and he told everyone the events that actually happened, but why should he have any attachment to MC

- MC isnt Lilith, and MC sure as hell doesn't like him after the events that happened today

- from what he's heard, MC dying would be good for the human world

--

"I say send MC back. What happens to them isnt our problem any more," Belphie says while under his magical restraints Diavolo put on him.

"Of course you would say that," Satan glares at him.

"Shut up Belphie !!" Mammon and Levi yell.

"You don't have any right to an opinion in this matter." Lucifer states.

"Belphie that's mean," Asmo says.

Beel frowns.

"I vote they stay. I like MC regardless, and if all I have to do is adjust to Sukuna then I'll do it," Beel says while looking Belphie dead in the eye.

There's a beat of silence.

"Me too," Mammon says.

"Hey ! I was going to say that !" Levi protests.

"Oooh~ Count me in !" Asmo says with a smile.

"I also think they should stay," Satan says and looks at MC.

"My personal preference is also that they stay, but Lord Diavolo it's up to you," Lucifer says and looks at Dia.

--

Diavolo

- he knew there was something off, but couldnt place his finger on it

- he also constantly got a powerful vibe from MC and this explains it

- he was very fond of MC and enjoyed their presence

- he knew what he was going to do

--

"Barbatos, what do you think ?" Dia asks him.

"The decision is up to you m'lord," Barbatos responds.

"Well Id also like the input of my trusty all knowing butler," Diavolo laughs.

"Then, I see no reason to send them back to the human world. They can live out their lives here and safe from the school that wants to execute them. It also wouldn't be an issue to get anyone from the human world here if MC so desired," Barbatos replied.

"Then it's settled ! Welcome to the devildom for the rest of your life MC!!" Diavolo smiled and welcomed MC with open arms.

MC smiled and accepted the hug.

--

Barbatos

- he didn't know all along, but he know when the timelines crossed and he had to erase the other

- MC was very near and dear to his heart though and he wasnt about to let them be killed

- just wants to keep MC safe

--

I HOPE I DID A GOOD JOB AND THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST REMEMBER TO FRINK SOME WATER ILY TAKER <3

- mars :)

[lizzy-bennet]

there's something going on that i just wanted to say - many times your tags on gifs don't show up, at least for me. it doesn't really happen with other people and i've noticed it with your blog bc other people have talked about your tags when i couldn't see anything and i know you write lots of tags and i love reading them so that makes me sad when i can't. i honestly don't know what the issue is, tumblr why?

Hey, thanks for letting me know. Never had this happen to me, the closest thing to it I’ve seen is sometimes when a post has a very long sentence as it’s first tag, tumblr hides it so it looks like there’s no tags and I have to click the “see all” button. But that sounds a bit different from what you’re saying so idk what’s happening unless tumblr’s just messing with my blog (I’ve been having trouble with my tracked tags and notes/notifications lately so it could be that).

Anyone else have this problem?

[bcdwhcre]

“Stars Aligned,” Chapter 2 (Bakugou x Reader)

NOTE: this is my fanfic on wattpad ( @xTodorcki ) and I decided to share the first 2 chapters here, possibly more so it can get some more attention🤧

Chapter 1

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All the class 1-A students sat around the table in the study hall, laughing and giggling about the lame jokes the boy named Denki kept saying aloud instead of helping the others study.

"Okay guys, we need to be serious." Iida said as he stood up, making himself look like a stern teacher.

You had glanced around, you felt somewhat comfortable with them already but some of them still were some air heads and complete jokers when it came to studying, you simply thought this would be boring but you were glad you actually tagged along with them.

"Right, we're here to talk about Y/N cool quirk!" Midoryia got all excited and dragged his notebook out and slammed it on the table.

"Not this dumb ass dragging out his superhero notes." Bakugou scoffed under his breath, his eyes rolling as he turned his attention away from everyone, growing irritated.

“Guys, it's really not that great seriously. I pick up dirt and have some exceptions with other Earth stuff." You stumbled out, laughing at the sudden eagerness to learn more about your quirk.

"Yeah it's not like that boring quirk is going to get her anywhere." Bakugou spoke again and that made you glare at him.

His attitude was starting to get on your last nerve and it was barely the first day of you being here. You had stood up, leaning over the table towards where he sat. His eyes were glued on yours, giving you the dirtiest look he could give and if looks could kill, you two would be dead.

"Guys, c'mon." Todoroki noticed the strong tension in the air, the two of them wanting to rip each other's heads off.

"Step outside and we'll see how good this boring quirk can be." The words slipped off your tongue, the anger in your voice was completely noticeable.

"Don't tempt me, extra." He shot right back at you, making you stand straight and grab him by the collar of the school uniform and drag him practically over the table.

"Guys! Guys! The teachers will kill us, please." Deku pleaded, trying to stand between the both of the major hotheads.

You abruptly let go of his shirt, moving away from the table and grabbed your bag. You already had enough of this stupid study session they dragged you to. You hated the fact you let Bakugou get under your skin on the first day but you couldn't help the intense feeling of wanting to completely punch him straight in the face and you knew any minute that would most likely happen, that or your powers will go on overdrive.

You started walking towards the exit, hearing the students call you but you stopped once you heard his stupid voice.

"Leave her be, she's just another idiot who doesn't belong here."

That's when you stomped your way over to Bakugou, punching him straight in the jaw and watched him stumble back on his feet. All the students grew quiet, seeing the scene happen right before their eyes and it took a moment for him to realize what had just happened, his hands started to steam from just how angry he was at this stupid wannabe who just transferred to this school.

You watched his eyes turn a even darker red, the anger boiling his blood but before he did anything, he grabbed his stuff and walked out the door.

You were quick on your feet to follow him, the sudden guilt but hate still lingering on you. You finally caught up to him outside of the building as he walked down the path mumbling under his breath how he wanted to kill you.

"Even though I already hate you, I will apologize for the punch, it wasn't appropriate." You admitted, making his feet stopped on the concrete and his death glare was shot towards you.

"I don't give a shit who you are and what you can do, I will always beat you and be higher. Don't forget that, extra." His words were like venom shooting in you from a snake bite.

His words caught you off guard and you didn't want to let the anger get the better of you again but the way you wanted to desperately knock him off his high horse was on the verge of exploding out of you. You looked up at him, watching him turn his back to you and walk out the front gates of UA. You were stunned for a moment but his words didn't affect you in any way nor did it even bother you.

What bothered you was his attitude and the way he disrespected everyone every second and it was crazy how much you witnessed today on your first day and how close you've grown to your classmates during this time as well but you still hated the fact you were going here and definitely agreed with Bakugo about never going to fit in here.

-

As the next day rolled around, your feet made its way into class and you sat in your usual seat and it wasn't too far from Bakugou's so you turned to look at him but once you saw his eyes meet yours, you decided not to say anything today.

You looked back ahead of you, hearing him scoff and mumble something you couldn't make out but it was most likely an insult.

When Aizawa walked inside, everyone's conversations were suddenly over and it was dead silent inside the class.

"Class, today we will be going out to the field for training and doing some partner work. Once you change and go down there, your class representative will take over while I do some work. You can also pick your own partners but make sure to change it up every while so you have a chance to practice with everyone and their quirks. You may go." He explained and walked back out of the classroom

Is this how it's like out here? You thought to yourself. I mean, training without a teacher around. You can already see how this can go wrong.

After changing into the gym clothes they had given everyone, you made your way down to the training field and gathered with the rest of the students. Iida had already prepared the first batch of partners for the first session that would probably only be around twenty minutes.

You stood there awkwardly, feeling the lingering tension and darkness hovering over you and that feeling was dripping off of Bakugou who stood a few feet away. The punch had left a small noticeable bruise on his jawline, he admits that you can punch pretty damn hard but that didn't stop him from wanting to destroy you with his explosions. He was still angry from yesterday and he couldn't believe he didn't see that punch coming, it had actually stunned him and he hated to admit that.

"Alright, go with your partners. The twenty minutes start now." Iida spoke loudly, making you turn your head to look at your first partner, Todoroki.

You both stood in front of each other, you can see why you got partnered up with him. In some ways your quirks were polar opposites but it could be good practice to learn more about other abilities from others.

"Are you okay after yesterday? I never asked about that." He stood there, he had no intention of training with you just yet when he wanted to make sure if you were okay.

Todoroki knew that Bakugou had gone too far like he always did. He was genuinely concerned about your feelings considering how nasty Bakugou can be when he gets angry and in his own head about things.

"Trust me, nothing really hurts my feelings anymore but he did deserve that punch in the face." You laughed, causing a small smile to appear on Todoroki's face- the first time seeing that for you.

"Okay good." He nodded, finally getting in the position to train with you after getting shouted at by Iida for not doing what we're supposed to.

The twenty minutes went by faster than you thought, not really wanting to end the training with Todoroki. He was a good partner to have, taught you new stuff about your combat moves and gave you all the advice he could to improve some more.

You were dreading the rest of the class, knowing at some point you would partnered up with Bakugou considering how clear Aizawa was about working with everyone out here.

Next you were partnered up with Ashido and she was by far the sweetest girl you've met in this class. You had talked to her a bit at the study session yesterday and she brought a lot of kindness and comfort for you to make sure you fit in with the rest of them because to her, you were one of them and she wanted to make you feel that way as well.

Time went on and you had gone through almost everyone except for a few people. Iida announced the next round of partners and Bakugou was now stuck with you. The annoyance on his face was noticeable and you were kinda terrified to deal with his attitude considering yesterday's events.

He stood in front of you, his arms crossed and his eyebrows scrunched together as he stayed quiet almost like he was just standing there trying to read your mind. As much as he wanted to completely ruin you to the ground and beat your face in but he stayed still just for a minute.

"So uh, I'm still sorry about yesterday and I mean that. I still hate your attitude though." You awkwardly said, his eyes staying on yours and you started to grow impatient.

"I don't care, now this training can give me a reason to show you how worthless your quirk actually is." An evil grin spread across his face and all of a sudden you knew he was going to be a pain to deal with this year and most likely more to come at this school.

"If you want to get thrown around then go for it."

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There’s a total of 6 chapters on Wattpad!! Currently working on chapter 7, if anyone has a preference and prefer to read it here then comment and I’ll continue to post chapters here and wattpad!!

WATTPAD: @ xTodorcki

Send in requests! I’m also working on a short Adult Trio from hxh imagine atm annnnnnd I also have a masterlist. Thanksssss.

• Masterlist

[ptolomeia]

Rhymes With I Love You

Summary: Thomas realizes he is deeply in love with his friend Janus. Luckily for him, it turns out Janus loves him back.

Pairing: Thomas/Janus

Rating: T

Tags: Human Au, Fluff, Mutual Pining

Words: 1802

Read it on AO3

It was the laugh that undid him. Loud, unrestrained, belly laughter. Tears in the corners of his eyes and little sounds that Janus would never admit were snorts escaping. Janus unabashedly, dorkily, loudly happy, for all the world, but most importantly, for Thomas to see.

Thomas knew then and there that, not only did he love Janus, he’d loved him for a while. He didn’t think the words “I love you so much” would have come so close to falling out of his mouth like an armed, friendship destroying bomb if he hadn’t been in love for a while.

And could anyone really blame him? This was Janus he was talking about. Brilliant, beautiful, eloquent, funny, sharp—Thomas could go on all day. And had. The less said about the contents of the margins of his notes (kept carefully tucked away whenever there was a change of seeing Janus) these days, the better.

But more than any of those things (and they were great things!) Janus was kind. You’d never guess, when you first met him, but under all that snark and swagger, Janus was one of the most considerate people Thomas had ever met. He was always willing to go a little out of his way to help, and he never forgot to make Thomas a cup of tea when he made himself one.

Yes, Thomas was deeply and irrevocably in love with Janus, and had been for who knew how long. There were only two problems with this.

The first one wasn’t so bad; Janus didn’t love him back. Which was fair, honestly. Thomas was an anxious mess of a human being, barely able to keep on top of his master’s work. Thomas might be able to listen to Janus talk for hours about the philosophers he loved and studied and analyzed, but it’s not like Thomas had ever been able to really get any of it. Why wouldn’t Janus want someone who was his intellectual equal? Someone who could at least appear to be as put together as Janus was?

So yeah, Janus didn’t love him back, but that really wasn’t the real problem. Thomas was happy just being Janus’s friend, spending time with him just as he always had. No, it was the second problem that was the real problem.

You think a man who’d spend over two decades in the closet would be better at hiding things, but nope. Apparently he’d used up all his secret keeping abilities in those years because now, every time he saw Janus, every time Janus made a quip, or smirked, or breathed, Thomas was overcome with the desire to tell Janus about his unreciprocated feelings.

In retrospect, letting Janus serve him wine when Janus had come over for dinner had been a bad idea.

He hadn’t actually said “Janus, I love you, please pass the salt”, but it was a close run thing.

No, it wasn’t until after supper and another glass of wine was finished and cleaned up from, after Janus had made them both a cup of tea and was sitting with Thomas on his small, busted up couch in his small, student apartment, talking in depth about the idiocy of some famous philosopher, as Thomas watched Janus’s elegant hands so eloquently illustrate what Janus was saying, that the words he’d barely managed to keep behind clenched teeth for the past few weeks fell out into the world.

“I’m in love with you.”

Janus froze. Thomas froze. Oh shit. He wanted to believe he hadn’t actually said that, but Janus’s entirely unreadable expression said otherwise.

“What?” Janus hissed, his eyes searching Thomas’s face.

“Oh God,” Thomas said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. Too late to pretend he hadn’t said anything and they could ignore it. Now he just had to try for damage control and hope he hadn’t managed to destroy his friendship with Janus completely. “I’m sorry, Janus—I don’t know why I said that. No, I mean, I do, but I know you don’t return my feelings—which is totally fine! I just hope we can—”

“I hate tea,” Janus interrupted Thomas’s frantic and pathetic attempt to explain.

“What?” It was Thomas’s turn to say.

“I hate tea,” Janus said, putting down the mug of tea he made himself, and leaning towards Thomas. “I always have. I’ve spent years trying to find a blend I could stand—you have no idea how many samplers I’ve gone through—before realizing no such blend existed and stopped bothering. Black, Green, White, Pu’er, Herbal, Rooibos, Oolong, Chai—I’ve tried them all to no avail. It doesn’t matter how long I steep them, or if I use the right temperature of water. It doesn’t matter how I try to doctor it with milk or sugar or lemon or honey. Wine, Coffee, plain water, even milk are more to my taste than tea. Hell, I’d rather drink beer.”

“But—But that’s ridiculous!” Thomas managed, unable to reconcile the words coming out of Janus’s mouth with the hundreds of mugs of tea he’d seen his friend drink. “You’re literally drinking tea right now! You made it yourself 20 minutes ago! I was right there watching you! Besides, I’ve seen you drink hundreds of cups of tea over the years and never seen you even touch a beer. I swear, every other time we’re at one of our places you say you were thinking of making yourself some tea and would I… like… some…” Thomas felt his eyes widen. No, that couldn’t be it… could it?

“Yes,” Janus said, leaning further forward, eyes bright and intense and overwhelming. “Very early on after meeting you, Thomas—After falling so deeply in love with you I knew I’d never be able to find my way out if I ever wanted to, not that I ever have—I realized you are the most stubborn person on the face of the planet when it comes to letting other people take care of you. You once mentioned that you find a cup of tea soothing, but later, when I wanted to make just you one, you absolutely refused to let me. So, even if I couldn’t stand the stuff, the simplest way for me to offer you the comfort I so desperately wanted to give you was to learn to choke down the stuff myself. I may hate tea, Thomas. But you don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because as someone once said ‘how can I help rhymes with I love you’ and I didn’t think you’d let me say either. Thomas, I would drink a thousand mugs of tea to see that soft, relieved smile of yours when I make you one when you’re stressed. I love you, Thomas. I have loved you for years.”

“But… but why?” Thomas asked, knowing he was repeating himself, but way too overwhelmed to do anything else. Janus loved him?

“Why?” Janus said, head jerking back. “Thomas, I knew you had issues knowing your own worth but—” Janus bit back his words and narrowed his eyes before starting again. “While the fact that you are physically stunning is what first attracted me to you, it’s not the reason I love you.” Breathing. Thomas had to remember that breathing was a thing. “No, I fell in love with you for other things. First of all, that brilliant mind of yours. Not only can you retain and easily access the truly astounding number of facts and how they relate to each other than you need for your engineering work, you have an astonishing way of coming sideways at a problem and developing an elegant solution no one else would imagine. There’s also the fact that you’re hilarious. I don’t think anyone has ever made me laugh as hard or as often as you have. But most importantly, Thomas, the real reason I fell so inescapably in love with you is that you are kind. You look at a world filled with casual cruelty and callousness, where injustice runs rampant and stupid rules let people day for no reason at all—and you say ‘Yes. All this is true. And I will do what I can to change that. I will be kind’. And you are. And you make the world a better place for it. Thomas, I’d have to be an idiot not to fall in love with you.”

And Janus was no idiot.

“You really love me?” Thomas asked, not quite able to believe it.

“I lie about many things, Thomas. You already know that about me. But I would not, will not, lie about this.” There was more honest vulnerability and emotion in Janus’s eyes than Thomas had ever seen there, and if possible, Thomas fell even deeper. Not that it mattered, because apparently Janus had been waiting to catch him all along. “I love you, Thomas Sanders. And I cannot possibly express how happy I am to hear you love me too.”

Janus loved him. Janus loved him.

Janus had also lied to him, but Thomas had known Janus’s flaws when he’d fallen in love, and had fallen anyway. And now that he knew what Janus was willing to do to make him happy?

“At some point,” Thomas said breathlessly (he seemed to have lost his breath somewhere deep in Janus’s eyes), “At some point we’re going to have to talk about the fact that apparently you’ve been lying to me.”

“Agreed,” Janus said, quick and so certain that Thomas didn’t doubt for a second that they would.

“But until then,” Thomas managed. “Until then, can I kiss yo—”

He didn’t manage to finish the sentence before Janus’s lips were pressed against his own.

“My love,” Janus said with a faint, almost disbelieving reverence, pulling back just far enough to look into Thomas’s eyes. “We can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever we want,” Thomas corrected gently, reaching up to lovingly cup Janus’s cheek. “From here on out, we both tell each other what we actually want, instead of dancing around it, okay?”

“In that case,” Janus more purred than said, turning his face slightly to press a kiss against the pad of Thomas’s thumb, while never taking his eyes of Thomas’s face, “I would very much like to kiss you again.”

Thomas swallowed. Thomas swallowed again. “Agreed,” he just managed to say.

With a soft laugh—a laugh Thomas thought he loved just as much as the belly laugh that made him realize the truth—Janus leaved back in and kissed him again.

Later, they would talk with each other about all the things they still needed to. Later, they would be honest and communicate and build something that let both of them feel heard and loved. But that could wait til morning. For now, there were better things to do.

[connorandersons-blog]

The Perfect Interview

Connor is offered an interview with an elusive CEO of an upcoming company. He expected many things but not for the man to be absolutely gorgeous and the company to be perfect for him. Hopefully he can keep himself in check for the interview.

Or: You’re interviewing me for a job at your company, but you’re distractingly attractive and all I can picture is us making out on your desk.

(A RK1K fic!)

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

Connor straightens his tie for the fifth time since he had gotten dressed. Which was an hour and a half ago but he still felt his outfit was a bad decision. It wasn't like he even had that much to pick from, but still. A white button-down, nice slacks, and a tie seemed a bit too plain now.

But he couldn't go back now or he'd be late for his interview. His interview with a very prestigious CEO of a major upcoming company. Connor had heard so many things about the man but never had actually seen him. No one had, it was actually a pretty big mystery.

Connor assumed he'd be an old white man like every other CEO, but he wasn't going to judge. Hell, he was being offered the job interview, no way he was turning this opportunity down. To be head of security and even a possible bodyguard for said CEO was a massive opportunity. He knew he wasn't the only one to have gotten the offer but he had to make a good first impression.

Yet his hands shook as he stared up at the tall building he had arrived at. Connor actually adored the city, he loved having so many places he could go and most within walking distance. He had passed this very building plenty of times but never thought he'd work there.

The skyscraper towered above him as great monoliths of concrete and glass. But there was something rather unique about this one. It has balconies with plants and solar panels, but on the ground held even more green. It had an abundance of flowers meant to attract bees and Connor smiled.

The CEO may be allusive but he certainly cared about the planet, his customers, and his workers. That's what made this so incredible, it was a perfect company to work for. It has gotten threats because of its strong views, hence the need for more (new and improved) security for the company as a whole but also for the CEO.

He took in a slow deep breath before walking into the building. His breath was caught at the enormous tree growing in the middle of the large room. He hasn't expected that, but the tree was definitely real and looked rather healthy too. Comfortable benches with cushions let those sit and relax around the tree. Connor noted a coffee and tea stand that many stopped by. Most also handed over an identical card, while others used cash or something else

Many people roamed around and he was pleasantly shocked at the diversity. He even saw several people with mobility aids moving around as well. He felt his heart stutter at the very visible rainbow flag that said 'Love is Love'. Damn, he really wanted to work here.

Now to meet the CEO, well the receptionist who would send him up to the CEO's secretary who would then let him see the CEO. So, two people, he was guaranteed to meet first.

He walked up to the counter with a confident and friendly smile on his face. Though, his father had said he had a 'derpy smile and should stick with a indifferent face'. "Hello, my name is Connor Anderson and I'm here for an interview." His voice didn't even shake!

The woman looks up and smiles gently at him. That's something odd about her. No, not odd, different, and inquisitive. It's almost like she can see into his soul, it kind of makes him want to turn tail and run.

"Hello, it's wonderful to meet you. You will do well, Markus is on the top floor, you're free to go up now." She nodded towards the elevators and Connor couldn't help but give her an awkward smile.

That was a bit ominous but he shrugs it off as he makes his way to the elevators. There aren't many people in there but none seem too shocked he's going to the top, instead, they seem curious. Not in the cruel way some older adults are, but simply wondering who he was. He was a new face and it seemed plenty of people knew each other as they talked softly.

The elevator ride isn't long but it still feels like an eternity before he reaches the top. The top floor doesn't even have that much in it, not that Connor can see. There is a meeting room, which Connor assumes holds the most crucial meetings. There is the room where assumes the CEO will be behind, and three others that he can see.

There is also the secretary's area which is as large as a room but without a door. He walks up, and the woman sitting there looks up. Her face is fierce and almost stern as she looks him over. If he didn't know any better it would look like he was meat and she was deciding if he was good enough to eat or not. Not in the sexual way, though, he got massive lesbian vibes off her.

Her name tag said North, that was a unique name but oddly fitting and rather pretty too.

She is stunning, frown and all. Her strawberry blonde hair drapes over her shoulder in a loose braid, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised. "Anderson. Connor Anderson, right?" She asks.

"Yes, that's me. I'm supposed to have an interview at 2?" He didn't lean on the counter, simply stood with his arms by his side, trying to appear open.

She nods and types something on her computer. "Alright, you can go in." She nodded to the door and Connor beamed at her.

"Thank you." She gave a small nod, watching him attentively. Damn, she could be security with the intensity of her stare. He definitely wouldn't fuck with anyone behind that door.

He knocked before entering, closing the door behind him. Oh shit. He would gladly fuck the man sitting there, though. His skin was a beautiful color, making his two-colored eyes stand out even more. He wore a wine red, slim-fit, three-piece suit. He had a black button-down making him look even sharper. He sat there in the aristocratic cutting lines of a great tailor, showing off the best parts of him.

The man had shoulders for days and when he stood up with a smile Connor was ready to melt. Or even drop to his knees. He was most definitely not a white old man.

Hot CEO who cared about people? Yeah, Connor was swooning. He also had a small scar over one of his eyes that had Connor transfixed. "H-hi, my name is Connor. I'm here for an interview." God, he was gay. So very, very gay. He was actually bi, but right now he only had eyes for the man in front of him.

"Markus Manfred, it's wonderful to meet you, Connor." He offered a hand that Connor readily took. It was so warm and a bit thicker than Connor's own. He didn't want to let go, but holding on too long could be a red flag. "Please sit."

Connor nodded and sat down, feeling spectacularly undressed. Though, he'd love for Markus to undress him even more. "Thank you for having me. I must say, I was a bit surprised at the offer and the fact my interview would be with you personally."

He expected a manager or someone for HR at least. Not that he wasn't absolutely thrilled at this, he'd gladly meet Markus again and again.

Markus's laugh was what he assumed angels sounded like. "It is a bit different, but I think that's how most see the whole company. Since we would be working so close, I prefer to get a feel for you myself."

'Please feel me up,' Connor thought, his face flushing at the thought. He needed a cold shower and a slap to the face. "I think what you've done is admirable, it's far more than most would do."

"Far more? You believe there is more I could do?" Markus leaned forward on his desk, a small upturn to his lips. Those lips probably would feel so good on his own, or kissing down his neck.

Right, he needed to focus. Connor wasn't one to stay too quiet about his opinions even in the face of very powerful men. "Yes, you are very secretive, which I can understand. But there aren't nearly enough men of color in power that is shown. I believe you could do a lot of good as a role model for youth of color."

He himself was white, but he tried to stay up to date on the world and attempted to use his voice to amplify those who were silenced.

Markus's eyes widen at Connor's words. "I'm… I have thought of that. Thank you for your honesty, it's definitely refreshing."

Connor smiled and gave a humble nod. "Of course. If anything, I pride myself on my integrity." So being blunt played off, thank god.

Markus gave a deep hum. What would he sound like getting sucked off? Was he the loud type or was he silent? This was so inappropriate, but Connor couldn't seem to stop. "I can see that. Now, I've read over your resume, your qualifications are… impressive. May I ask why you quit your last job?"

And there it was. Luckily he doubted this would actually be too much of a problem. "My boss was manipulative and was known for sexually harassing female workers. I confronted him about it and he denied it, of course. The women are currently in the process of filing reports with the police." He was still in contact with multiple of them. Echo and Ripple were sweet girls and didn't deserve what happened to them.

Markus frowns and leans back into his chair. "I see. I can promise that will not happen here. If it does it will be handled and sent to the police as well. We have a zero-tolerance policy." He smoothed his hands over the desk and Connor followed his hands. They'd feel so excellent holding Connor, maybe even have Connor sit on the desk.

Still, they went through the normal interview questions. Before each question Connor paused, head tilted to one side just a smidge, and then he delivered an articulate answer. He honestly thought it was one of the best interviews he's been in. Other than the whole fantasizing thing. It was almost natural, their back and forth.

Connor ended up learning a lot about Markus, including that he didn't like being called Mr. Manfred, and he really wanted to get a pet at some point. Connor talked about himself, saying how he had a dog he snagged from his father every other week. It was almost like a date, and a really good one too.

Still, the urge to lean across the desk and kiss the man senseless was powerful. So strong he couldn't stop biting and licking his lips. He knew he was being obvious, but Markus hadn't called him out on it.

There were pictures on his desk too. A few caught his eye. The first was a picture of Markus in plain clothes with North and two other people. They were all grinning widely and leaning into each other.

Another was of Markus and one of the men in the pictures, he was pale with blonde hair, he was leaning into Markus and placing a kiss on his cheek. Markus was laughing in the picture and someone with dark skin, Connor assumed the other man from the first picture, held up bunny ears behind both of their heads.

It was oddly adorable, seeing Markus so relaxed with his friends. Connor hoped to see that side of him too one day, even if he didn't get the job.

"I will say," Markus grinned, cocking his head to the side, "you are the best I've spoken to so far." Connor didn't think he was lying either. That bode well for the job, which could lead to a friendship then maybe even more. "It has been absolutely wonderful meeting you," he handed over his card, "I'll give you a call when we've made a decision."

Connor took it as he stood, looking it over. It was a simple card, it wasn't one you'd give out to everyone. If Connor's instincts were right, then the number printed on it would be Markus' personal cell. "Then why are you giving me your number?"

"In case you want to call me." Markus tipped his head, his eyes seemingly sparkling.

"Oh." Connor bit his lip, flushing a deep red. Perhaps Markus was interested too, in more than Connor getting the job. It would be far from professional, but Connor knew how to keep the two separate. Hopefully, Markus did too. "Ok, thank you."

Markus offered his hand again and this time they both lingered, staring at each other. Connor broke away first, chuckling. "I, yeah, ok. I guess I'll hear from you or you'll hear from me." Either way, they would talk again.

He couldn't help the smile that was covered his face as he left the office. He glanced at North who raised an eyebrow at him again before snorting. "Oh thank god, he needs to get laid," North muttered but Connor still heard. He hid his smile before walking back to the elevator. Best interview ever.

[goddessdoeswitchery]

Hellenic Polytheism 101: Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism

What follow is a transcript of all 7 episodes of my podcast Hellenic Polytheism 101, where I discussed the pillars of Hellenic Polytheism. There are more episodes to follow, but I figured it would be nice to have a place where all 7 of the episodes discussing the pillars were together. The series started on August 23rd and ended on Nov 1st, released on a bi-weekly basis at 8 am every Sunday. In total, it’s 12 pages long, so I’m placing it under a Read More because it is very, very long. In each episode, there is a list of resources, and each one is linked for you in the original post (just click the tag transcripts under this post, and it’ll take you to the transcripts for every podcast episode) to do your own follow up research. I hope that people will find this useful.

Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism: Technically, the pillars were never actually a “thing”. Unlike then 10 commandments, the pillars were never taught as a set of rules that everyone knew by the name “Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism”, or any variation thereof. What modern day practitioners of Hellenic Polytheism call “The Pillars” were essentially religious and cultural practices that were taught by family and friends via every day practices. The pillars were an essential part of the culture of Ancient Greece, taught to them the same way customs like tipping, saying “bless you” at sneezing, and the now-common practice of wearing a mask everywhere are taught to us today. In recreating Hellenic Polytheism for the modern age, the Pillars grew out of a need for a set of guidelines to help us recreate a very old religion.

KHARIS

Welcome to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where we will be discussing the Pillar of Hellenic Polytheism, Kharis. Kharis is the reciprocity inherent in Hellenic Polytheism, a devotional act for the Theoi with hope a return favor in kind. It is also so much more than a transactional behavior. Its not bribery, its not a quid pro quo. At the same time, it is not the Christian act of praise worship.

One of the most common actions as a Hellenic polytheist is devotional acts. Whether it be offerings, prayers, hymns, or the increasingly common Devotional Actions (like beauty routines for Aphrodite, studying for Athena, singing for Apollo, housecleaning for Hestia, etc); we worship by engaging in acts of devotion. Oftentimes, that act of devotion is also accompanied by a request. This act of devotion is not a bribe. This is an offering, and a plea. The deity in question can respond or not, it won’t change the fact that we made the offering and it shouldn’t affect how we give in the future. We give without the expectation of getting something in return, as an act of worship and of thanks for everyday blessings. We give to just give, and a lot of the times, the deity or deities in question will respond. We then give in thanks, and then they give to us. We give in thanks, they give to us and so continues the circle of praise and of blessing. This circle of reciprocity is Kharis.

And yeah, I completely understand how confusing that would be, so let’s try using some more relatable examples. I know not everyone will be able to relate to these examples, so there will be a few of them, and hopefully one of them will resonate enough that the concept of Kharis will become less confusing.

The first example I will use is of a couple. Let’s call them Kate and Ashley. They are very much in love. Kate is out grocery shopping and next to the checkout line is a display of flower bouquets. One of them has roses and lilies, Ashley’s two favorite flowers. So Kate grabs that bouquet and places it in a vase on the table for Ashley to see when she gets home. Kate isn’t getting the flowers for a birthday, or anniversary, or holiday. These aren’t apology flowers. These aren’t get well soon flowers. They’re the best kind of flowers. These are “Just Because I Love You” flowers.  That night at dinner, Kate asks Ashley to take the trash can to the curb before bed and Ashley does so. The flowers weren’t payment for the favor of taking the trash to the curb. The flowers and the request may have come at the same time, but one wasn’t required for the other. The next morning, Kate makes Ashley breakfast in bed and Ashley starts Kate’s car so it’s warmed up and defrosted before Kate goes to work. Both are acts of love that aren’t reliant on each other. Now, say this cycle continues constantly. They do each other favors, they get each other small tokens, for the rest of their relationship. No one but the most cynical would say that they have a transactional relationship. Their tokens aren’t required for favors, and their favors aren’t required for tokens. Their actions are out of devotion to each other. That’s an example of how Kharis works.

Another example, this time between family members.  My sister, my mom, and I have lived together for a lot of our lives. As adults, we have lived together for the last 5 years. My mom has a tendency to not eat, and there have been times when I’ve sent her a pizza while she’s at work, because I know then that she will eat. The food is an act of love, a way to show I care. When she responds in kind by cooking dinner for the house the next day, it is not a payment for the pizza. It’s a continuation of the circle. When I was off work for 3 weeks, I cleaned the whole house, reorganized their closets to be easier to navigate, and cleaned out the cabinets and cupboards. Its another way I show I care. My sister usually watches the kids all summer long, and my mom and I will get her flowers, as a way to say thank you. Every day of our lives as a family, we show love by doing favors for each other and getting things for each other. The favors are not a payment for the things and the things are not a payment for the favors.

Hopefully that explains what Kharis is a little better, so we can go a little deeper into what it means as a worshipper, as someone who calls themselves a Hellenic Polytheist.

Now, remember how I said that the pillars weren’t exactly a thing, and instead were a modern invention to assist those who weren’t raised in Ancient Greece with learning the customs and cultural behaviors that were common knowledge in Ancient Greece? Let’s keep that in mind. On a historical note, Kharis required something real. Having faith and good thoughts was not a part of the reciprocal circle that is Kharis. It required something real, and in Ancient Greece that did not mean devotional acts like making playlists. It meant something solid, offerings, like libations, food, incense, coins, seashells, and other solid, real items. If you have an altar, think about what you leave on it. On mine, I’ve got an incense holder, coins left at the foot of the statue of Hermes, corn from the field next to us, a nature ball with acorns and leaves and flowers in it, devotional drawings, fortunes from fortune cookies also at the foot of Hermes’ statue, dried roses and lilies in an empty wine bottle, seashells, pins, a book of myths, and a plate and cup where bread, oil, seeds, fruit, wine, and other food offerings can be left. Some of these are permanent, some of them get removed as they go bad. When I light incense and pray, when I leave food, when I leave seashells or coins or fortunes, I’m engaging in my part of the reciprocal circle that is Kharis. That means, historically, offering something real that goes above and beyond simple faith.

Now, not everyone can do that. Not everyone has the ability to have an altar, and not everyone can afford to burn incense everyday, and not everyone has the time to bake bread everyday. Now, that doesn’t mean that someone who lacks those abilities, or doesn’t have that time can’t engage in the reciprocal relationship that is Kharis. Remember, a huge part of practicing Hellenic Polytheism is bringing ancient worship into the modern world. Devotional acts are something real. You can offer a devotional act to the Theoi as your part of the Kharis. I’ve seen some stunning works of art created in devotion to the Theoi. I’ve heard songs wrote in devotion. I’ve read some deeply moving poetry. And I’ve seen prayers, prayers written with such devotion and love that they could bring you tears. Those actions are fully capable of being classified as part of the circle that is Kharis.

Kharis is not just actions, its a relationship. Much like how Xenia was a way of life ingrained into the culture of Ancient Greece, so too was Kharis. All the rites and rituals, sacrifices, prayers, hymns, offerings, everything that was offered to the Theoi; it came from the understanding that a relationship had to be built and maintained. You couldn’t just say your prayers and call it a day, you lived with the Theoi, and dealt with them every single day. Everyday, you had the opportunity to build the relationship, and the expectation that you would was built into society. Indeed, the concept of Kharis was so built into society that offerings and sacrifices were a part of their stories. Examples can be seen in many myths, plays, and epic poems from them. The reciprocal nature of Kharis is shown in the Illiad, the Odyssey, and the writings of Aristotle.  

I’ve learned that Kharis can be hard to understand, especially when you’ve grown up in a society where the love of a deity is just…..constantly there. Kharis is the idea that the love of our deities is not unconditional, and our love for them need not be unconditional as well. We don’t have that relationship with our gods that is bondless. We build a relationship with them, and they build one back. That, to me, is one of the appeals of Hellenic Polytheism. The relationship is a reciprocal one built up over time, using something that is definable, real, an offering that you can hold and see. So, we give, they give, we give, they give, until you’ve built a solid foundation for a solid relationship. That relationship, built out of Kharis, is what makes the worship we engage in so beautiful.

Thanks for listening to today’s discussion of Kharis. For today’s episode, I relied on the Illiad, the Odyssey, Kharis: Hellenic Polytheism Explored by Sarah Kate Istra Winter, The emotions of the Ancient Greeks: Studies in Aristotle and Classical Literature by David Konstan, and the Center for Hellenic Studies. You can always find a transcript of this and other episodes on my tumblr blog at goddessdoeswitchery.tumblr.com, as well as a link to the sources I used. Feel free to ask any questions, and don’t forget to tune in on September 6th, when we will be discussing Arete.

ARETE

Welcome to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where I will be discussing the pillar of Hellenic polytheism, Arete. For first time listeners, I want to mention that technically, the pillars were never actually a “thing”. Unlike then 10 commandments, the pillars were never taught as a set of rules that everyone knew by the name “Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism”, or any variation thereof. What modern day practitioners of Hellenic Polytheism call “The Pillars” were essentially religious and cultural practices that were taught by family and friends via every day life. The pillars were an essential part of the culture of Ancient Greece, taught to them the same way customs like tipping, saying “bless you” at sneezing, and the now-common practice of wearing a mask everywhere are taught to us today. In recreating Hellenic Polytheism for the modern age, the Pillars grew out of a need for a set of guidelines to help us recreate a very old religion. Now, on to Arete.

Arete is excellence. It’s living up to your fullest potential. It’s being the best you. Arete means doing your best to become your best and to live your best life. Arete’s end goal is a life fulfilled, and happy. Arete in Homer’s works is usually associated with the person who uses everything at their disposal to do the best work, the person who is most effective at achieving what they set out to achieve. Homer applies arete to Penelope as she fulfills her role as wife. Odysseus has arete when he uses his intelligence. In the Illiad, Achilles has arete by being the best warrior. In the Tenets of Solon, Arete is achieved by being honorable, honest, intelligent, and humble. He advised the following: Consider your honor, as a gentleman, of more weight than an oath; never speak falsely; pay attention to matters of importance; be not hasty in making friends and do not cast off those whom you have made; rule, after you have first learnt to submit to rule; advise not what is most agreeable, but what is best; make reason your guide; do not associate with the wicked; honor the gods; and respect your parents.

Arete is simply being the best version of you. One of the hardest things about Hellenic polytheism is taking those ancient concepts and applying them to the world we have now, one that doesn’t call for heroes like Achilles, and one where we can’t always take the time to better ourselves because work and life can get in the way. It is important to understand that arete doesn’t always mean being number one and winning whatever contest is at hand. One thing that should be understood is that a person can be their best, give it everything they’ve got, and still lose. There will be people who are objectively better at doing what you do than you are. Someone will get a higher grade. Someone else will get the role or solo or part you’re trying out for sometimes. Someone else can have a better idea than you. Someone else will write better, or draw better, or be better than you in whatever you are trying to achieve.

The first step of applying the concept of arete to our everyday lives is to accept that your best and the best of someone else are very different things. You are you and you can only do your own best. Now that does mean that you have to apply yourself. Doing the barest minimum to get by is not a way to achieve arete. Arete means taking control of, and responsibility for, your own life. It means challenging yourself everyday to become better than you are.

Take a moment and think about things you’ve always wanted to do. A language you wanted to learn. A hobby you wanted to pick up. A project that you’ve put to the side. Something you’ve always wanted to learn about. Arete means taking the time to do that. If you have a goal, arete means doing the work to reach it. Then it means creating another goal. Plato said that arete is the ideal form of a thing, something that you are always trying to achieve. You achieve arete by always trying to reach for it, always trying to be better. This means that you won’t always be at the top of your game. You will stumble. You will fail. You will make mistakes. Arete doesn’t mean you will never be wrong, you will never fail, and you will always be perfect. It is not expected of us to be perfect all the time. What is expected is that we will try. When we fail, we learn from that failure and try again.

Now, if you’re anything like me, you’ve probably got a busy life. Between work and taking care of a household, I rarely get time to do anything for me. It is hard to take that time that I want to use to watch Netflix, or pop on a movie, or scroll online doing nothing of any real substance and put it towards something that is actual work. But I try. I read, every day. I do research for this podcast and my own growth. I do the laundry. I clean the house. I spend time with my kids, as a parent, teaching them and guiding them and playing with them. I write. I exercise. I plan and cook meals that are good for us and aren’t the easiest options. I pray. I always strive to be better at work. I’ve given my boss ideas that we’ve implemented nationwide that have made our division look good. I reach for arete every day, by understanding that it is something that I must always strive for. By always striving for it, I hope to achieve it.

One of the things that made this episode a little bit more difficult to write than the previous ones is that arete is subjective. Xenia is a set of rules. Kharis is a reciprocal circle. But arete isn’t something that can simply be memorized and put into practice as we come across situations that could use it, like xenia is. Arete is not something built into our everyday worship, the way Kharis is. Arete is something that has to be strived for every day. It is something that is work. It takes focus. It takes energy. It takes commitment. Only you can know if you’re doing your best and so no one else can come up to you and say “You haven’t achieved arete, you’ve broken the rules, you need to do better next time.” It is up to you and you alone to strive for arete. No one can coach you one it. No one can teach it to you. So, this episode will be a lot shorter than the others, because I can’t teach you arete. I can only explain what it is, explain how it has been seen historically, and let you do he work from there. Now it’s time for you to do the work. Good luck.

Thank you for listening to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where we discussed Arete, one of the pillars of Hellenic polytheism. Today, I relied on the Odyssey, the Illiad, the Center for Hellenic Studies, Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, Baring the Aegis, wikipedia’s page on Arete, and The Greek Way by Edith Hamilton. A transcript of this episode and all others can be found on my tumblr, goddessdoeswitchery.tumblr.com under the tag “transcripts”. There you will also find links to the sources used today to more research on your own. You can always ask me any questions there as well. Tune in on September 20th for the next episode, which will be about the next pillar of Hellenic polytheism, Sophia.

SOPHIA

Hello, and welcome to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where we will be discussing one of the pillars of Hellenic Polytheism: Sophia. Sophia is wisdom, cleverness, and skill. The concept has changed and has grown over time to be more applied to wisdom and the pursuit of wisdom, especially by Plato. It might be easier to recognize Sophia in the way it was applied to Socrates and Plato and Pythagoras, as part of the term “philosophia” or, philosophy, the love of wisdom. Now, remember how I’ve said in my other podcasts about the Pillars of Hellenic polytheism being more of a way of life than a literal set of rules? Here’s another part where that really comes through. In Greek culture, wisdom and the pursuit of it were incredibly important, so much so that it was the Ancient Greeks that were considered to be the founders of philosophy; and since Greek culture and Greek religion were so intertwined with each other, we are left asking, how can we, as modern day Hellenic polytheists, apply the concept of Sophia to our everyday lives?

One thing we can be sure of is that a person doesn’t need to be a world class philosopher like Plato to be a Hellenic polytheist. What we should be aiming for is the ever-present pursuit of wisdom. We should always be trying to learn, everyday. It doesn’t have to be a huge undertaking. Read a book. Watch a documentary. Read a scholarly article. Listen to a podcast. And if you come across something you don’t quite understand, research it. One of the best ways to pursue wisdom is to fight ignorance. There will be many times in your life when you are faced with something you don’t have any experience with, something you know nothing about. Living with the pillar Sophia means taking the time to learn and battling your own ignorance. In today’s world, I know how hard that can be. You can’t do a google search without their predictive algorithm doing some serious confirmation bias. Living with Sophia means taking the time, in pursuit of wisdom, to do it right.  

Now, I love learning. I’m one of those people who, if given an unlimited supply of money and an eternity, I would be a student forever. But Sophia doesn’t necessarily mean learning in a classroom environment. Think about your last week. Did you come across new information? Did you read an online article that broadened your world view? Did you learn something new? Did you gain a deeper understanding of something you thought you already understood? Did you discover something that mostly everyone you knew was aware of, even something as simple as the fact that if you roll up the deodorant, you can take the plastic cover off without having to struggle with it? If so, outstanding! You battled ignorance in some small way this week.

Battling ignorance and pursuing wisdom also means battling the ignorance of others. If you’re hearing and listening to this, or reading the transcript, then it means that you’ve entered the online world in some way. That means you’ve also come across ignorant people, who seemed perfectly gleeful to remain that way. It also means you’ve come across people who were ignorant, simply because they didn’t know any better, and they needed someone to point the way. Anecdotal story break time: I’ve got a cousin who is a senior in high school. She plays a lot of different instruments and she’s very, very good. She has practiced, a lot, and has put some serious work into it. I’ve also got an uncle who is on his 4th or 5th black belt. He has put some serious effort and a couple decades worth of time into varying forms of Martial Arts. My sister’s friend is an artist, and an incredible one. She has more followers on her Instagram and tumblr and devian art pages than I care to count, and she’s graduating college as a graphic designer with job offers from some very big names. All 3 of these people are outstanding in their field. Now, to get to the why I brought them up: All 3 of them have told me, in some way, that once they reached a certain point in their skill level, the best way to get better was to start teaching. As they taught others, their own skill increased. I believe the same applies to everyone. So, one of the ways you can apply Sophia to your life is to teach those who don’t know any better. You will come across people who are resistant to fixing their ignorance but more often than not, people are willing to learn. That means you can take the time to teach them.

Sophia also means cleverness and skill. In fact Homer applies to the term with the meaning “skillful in handicraft and in arts” towards both Athena and Hephaestus. Now, I would never suggest that we, as Hellenic polytheists, can be as skillful the Theoi in any way. We should all know why that’s a bad idea. However, we can become skilled in our own handicrafts and arts. That is another way to practice Sophia. Now, I know not all of us have something we can reasonably point to and say “That’s an art”. There are artists and musicians and weavers and seamstresses and poets among us, to be sure. But we also have writers. We have readers. We have spellcrafters. We have engineers. We have software coders. We have jewelers. We have homemakers. Sophia means cleverness and skill. That means there are many, many ways you can apply it to your daily life. Everyone has something they can do with skill. Sophia means practicing that skill and utilizing it.

To me, Sophia is one of the easiest pillars of Hellenic polytheism to bring into my every day life. Pursuing wisdom, battling ignorance, practicing a skill, these are all things that we are doing every day. And Sophia is as simple as that. Thank you for listening to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism, where we discussed the pillar Sophia. Today, I relied on the notes from one of my college courses, Intro to Philosophy, and the Homeric Hymns. As always, you can find links to the, well, one source that is linkable this time around, on my tumblr page at goddessdoeswitchery.tumblr.com, where I am also always free for discussions and questions. Coming on October 4th, the next pillar Sophrosune. I look forward to seeing you all then.

SOPHROSUNE

Hello and welcome to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where we will be moving onto to the next pillar of Hellenic Polytheism: Sophrosyne, which is, essentially, moderation, prudence, self-control, self-discipline, or temperance based upon thorough self-examination. Since we are coming up on a holiday season in the US, this seems like the perfect time to focus on Sophrosyne, and to remember it’s opposite, hubris, and how to avoid it. It is also important to remember that even in Ancient Greece, it was well understood that Sophrosyne could be taken too far, something we also understand still today.

“Earth shaker, you would not consider me sophrosyne if I were to fight with you for the sake of wretched mortals” Apollo says this to Poseidon in the Illiad, as Homer brings us a look at what Sophrosyne would mean to the same deity who brings us the Delphic Maxims, such as know know thyself, know by learning, exercise prudence, praise virtue, nothing in excess, know who is the judge, keep secret what should be kept secret, take sensible risks, be well behaved, be self disciplined, be sensible. This is not the only example in Homer’s work of Sophrosyne. In fact, there are a really a lot of them. I would definitely suggest you read both of them and look closely for examples of sophrosyne. Homer was very sensitive to the need for Sophrosyne in society and in an individual. On an individual level, sophrosyne prevented people form getting into serious trouble, both with themselves and on a religious level. After all, someone exercising sophrosyne would be very unlikely to become a spider after being cursed by Athena, right? On a modern level, someone exercising sophrosyne is less likely to face personal problems as well. You won’t wind up drinking to excess and getting into a car accident. You won’t find yourself challenging someone better than you to a fight. You won’t find yourself taking on more tasks than you can manage. You won’t find yourself spending more money than you can spare on things you don’t need. By exercising sophrosyne you can avoid a lot of trouble. On a societal level, we should try to exercise that same self control and temperance. After all, there is no reason for any country to spend more than 56 countries combined on defense spending. There is no reason for a city to cut taxes and not invest in repairing roads or assisting those who need it the most. There is no reason for a group of friends to go out in the middle of a pandemic to a bar just to have a good time. We can bring the ideals of sophrosyne to our own lives and encourage others to do the same, through voting and talking to others and being an example.

When we do not practice sophrosyne, we tend to fall victim to hubris. For someone who has spent any sort of time practicing Hellenic polytheism, we should all know exactly how bad hubris is. We’ve all probably seen it or heard it online. Recently, there was a lot of talk of witches online cursing the moon, specifically aimed at making Artemis or Apollo angry. Now, in the end, it was revealed to be some big hoax, a lie they told to make other witches start saying things about how they could tell someone had hexed the moon because their own spells weren’t as effective. Then the original hexers could say “Ha! We told you witch craft and the gods weren’t real, see? These guys said they noticed a change but we didn’t do anything, so clearly they must be faking!” The whole ordeal was a perfect example of what could happen if people fell victim to hubris, and many more sensible folks online pointed out that it was hubris, believing anyone could have an affect on a deity by cursing the moon. We’ve all seen other examples of hubris. Hellenic polytheists who say that Artemis would never let a man worship her, or a straight woman, or a woman who has had sex with a man. People who gatekeep, projecting their personal bigotry onto the Theoi. We’ve all come across. Hopefully, most have us have rolled our eyes and ignored it.

Even in mythology, hubris is painted to be among the worst things a person can be. Niobe lost her sons and daughters to Artemis and Apollo after she bragged to Leto that she was better than Leto for having more children. Arachne, turned into a spider for daring to compare herself to Athena. Antigone’s father, who lost his son and his wife for believing that his life was higher than the law of the gods. Oedipus refuses to accept his own fate and wound up falling victim to it because of his hubris. Ajax, believing he was entitled to the armor of Achilles and being driven mad and eventually killing himself. Icarus, flying to close to the sun, too prideful to listen to his father’s warnings. Orestes taking it upon himself to avenge his father by killing his mother and being driven mad.  Greek stories are teeming with examples of people who have fallen victim to hubris. In many of these stories, sophrosyne is pointed to as a virtue to aspire to strictly to avoid it’s opposite, hubris.

And yet, we can also take sophrosyne too far. For example, in the Bacchae, Pentheus holds himself as a champion of sophrosyne, as fails to understand that by being overly self-controlled and self-discplined and holding himself up as the model of sophrosyne, he ignores the moderation and temperance part. He tried to force everyone listen to him, to oppose the Bacchic rites, and, in the end, his obsession with only a part of sophrosyne causes his own death. The Ancient Greeks understood that there was such a thing as being too controlled. There was such a thing as a fatal exaggeration of one side of the many-sided virtue of sophrosyne. Thus one of the biggest keys to sophrosyne is moderation. Nothing in excess says one of the Delphic Maxims, not even self-control and self-discipline.

As we go through this holiday there a lot of ways you can apply sophrosyne to your life. One of the dangers of the holidays is becoming over-extended. For example, I have a large family. Like…..over 100 people kind of large. So large that we could probably fill a high school basketball stadium kind of large. It’s also got a lot of different branches. Mom’s side, which has dad and mom in separate houses. My ex-stepdad, whose family we still see. My dad and his family. My dad’s ex wife and her daughter and her kids, who I’m also close to. My girlfriend. My kids’ dad and his family. I always joke that we’ve got our own little 12 days of Christmas skit between grandpa jones, grandpa long, Uncle Cody, Uncle Andrew, my dad, his ex wife’s house, my girlfriend, the kids’ dad, his family, and we’ve still got to squeeze out time for our own holiday celebration too. Factor in the fact that, like most customer service based companies in the US, my job doesn’t allow us to take more than half of Christmas Eve and all of Christmas day off. Sure, we’ve got the Sunday before and after when I’m off as well, but that’s barely 3 days for 4 states and 10 places to visit. Factor in the budget for all those places and all those gifts, not to mention the drama that comes around when we decide where we’re having Thanksgiving at and you can understand why I bring up being overextended as a danger of the holiday season. Now, maybe that isn’t a problem for you. Maybe you become over extended by volunteering to work too many hours to help your more Christian friends have time off. Maybe you offer to do too much during Thanksgiving and wind up having to wake up at 5 am to get started on a meal that you can’t believe you promised to cook. Maybe during Halloween, you spend too much time focused on parties or trick-or-treating and realize that you would have had a much better time sitting at home, watching Halloweentown with a bowl of candy and some friends. Either way, we all tend to push ourselves too hard, especially once the holidays roll around and we start wanting to do everything so we can get every experience. We need to remember sophrosyne during this time. Exercise self-control and stay home when it’s something you want to do. Exercise self-discipline and avoid getting gifts when you can’t afford it, there is no shame in saying “Look, finances are strapped and I can’t manage more than X”. Exercise moderation and remember that you can’t actually do everything. Be prudent and accept the reality of whatever situation you are facing. Practice sophrosyne.

Thank you for listening to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101 where we discussed another one of the Pillars of Hellenic polytheism, Sophrosyne. Today, I relied on the Odyssey, The Illiad, Sophrosyne: Self Knowledge and Self-Restraint in Greek Literature by Helen North, A Period of Opposition to Sophrosyne In Greek Thought also by Helen North, Mythology of the Greeks by George Grote, and the Wikipedia entry for Sophrosyne. Remember, all links to the resources I used can be found on my tumblr at goddessdoeswitchery.tumblr.com, along with a transcript of today’s episode under the tag “Transcripts”. I look forward to speaking with you all again on October 18th, where we will be discussing Eusebia.

 EUSEBIA

Hello and welcome to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where we will be discussing, Eusebia, or reverence and duty towards the gods. Now, keep in mind that Eusebia was so revered, so vital to the worship and religion of the ancient greeks that she became a personified spirit, who was married to Nomos, the Law, and had a child, Dike. This already sets aside this particular pillar from the others. As a being, Eusebia was the personified spirit of piety, loyalty, duty and filial respect. However, we are not yet at the point for deities or personifications, so mostly all of today will be focused on talking about what Eusebia is as a concept and how we can practice it as a modern worshipper. Now, so far we’ve talked a lot about our relationships with the many deities we worship. We’ve talked about offerings and Kharis, we’ve talked about the humility we should approach them with, and we’ve talked about the respect we should bring with us whenever we approach them. All of that goes into Eusebia.

Eusebia is about reverence towards the Theoi. That reverence is where, I’ve noticed, a lot of modern worshippers tend to falter. There is nothing wrong with making a joke about some of the Theoi. I don’t know if all of you have heard the one about Hermes being the only god to pay his worshippers for their worship. It’s fun to joke about that. I always like using Hermes as an example of a deity that a lot of worshippers are fairly causal with. He is, in my experience, one of the most easy going deities. He’s the type of god that puts a train on every track between your home and work on the only morning you’re running late for the last 6 months, just to get a message to you. He’s a prankster, a jokester….and still deserves the same degree of reverence as every other deity. Just because you can laugh with him doesn’t mean he is not revered by you. After all, he is also the shepherd of the dead, the one who guides their souls. He is the god of travel, of languages, of luck, of communication, and like 1000 other things.

It is not reverent to attempt to speak for the Theoi. It is not reverent to make up bullshit facts about a specific goddess to say that she would be on your side of an online discourse. It is not reverent to leave a deity out of your worship because you don’t like how one interpretation of one of the myths portray the deity. It is not reverent to drag the Theoi down to the level of an online personality. They are gods and goddesses and they deserve to revered as such. By virtue of what they are, they deserve the worship, offerings, and the rituals that we engage in. Impiety was frowned upon by the ancient greeks and should continue to be frowned upon today. It has never been acceptable to treat the Theoi like accessories, to be tried on and discarded whenever you don’t have enough time to engage with them. You find time, you make time, in whatever you can. And it doesn’t have to be a big thing. A prayer. A lit candle. Some incense. A quick offering. The Theoi deserve worship.

But, just like with some of the other pillars, the people of ancient Greece knew that there was such a thing as being too pious. There were people who spent too much time praying, too much time fearing the Theoi, and were constantly sure they had something to offend the Theoi and so spent even more time praying and offering and attending to the temples. This excessive fear, or deisidaimonia, was a sign of taking Eusebia too far. It was understood that a person should be mindful of the Theoi, and take an appropriate amount of time and give the appropriate offerings. This also included attending and participating in the appropriate rituals and festivals.

Eusebia also means understanding why we do the things we do. Why do we give these particular offerings? Why are offerings for Chthonic and Ouranic deities different? What are the reasons behind certain rituals? What are the reasons behind traditional offerings? Eusebia means understanding these things, having the answers to these questions and not just blindly following a traditional path. It’s important to understand the reason why. And so, Eusebia means taking the time to research your beliefs. If you have questions, put in the work to answer them. This can also definitely include asking others. We are a community. So, if you have questions, reach out. Ask people, “Why are coins such a common offering to Hermes?” Find a book in the library about the life of people of ancient Greece. Put in the effort to research and create your own calendar with your own rituals and holidays. Take the time to understand why, to research your deities and understand what they might ask of you, and why they would ask it. All too often, I’ve seen popular bloggers and popular authors in the community asked the same question a 100 times because the idea of taking the time to do your own research is apparently distasteful to some people.

It is important to remember, as a part of Eusebia, that the Theoi are not room mates or friends or accessories. They are deities. They are gods and goddesses and titans and by virtue of what they are, they deserve our devotion. I’ve always seen Hellenic polytheism as a simpler path than Christianity. We do not have a single, omniscient, all powerful god that offers a set of rules that must be followed or else we will suffer for all eternity. That’s not how Hellenic polytheism works. We worship our gods in our own way, at our own pace. Hellenic polytheism is a very personable religion. Everything about it, from hymns to holidays to rituals to altars to offerings, everything is unique to each individual practitioner. But, on the flip side, that means that we don’t have a holy book to draw from. That means that we don’t have a set of authority figures we have to listen to. We are responsible for our own piety. We are responsible for our own worship. We are responsible for our own research. We are responsible for our own devoutness. We are responsible for ourselves.

And that’s what Eusebia is, that’s why it is gets set up as a pillar of Hellenic polytheism. It is a vital component of our religious practice, to take the time to not only worship, but to know how and why we worship the way we do. It is necessary to show the Theoi the respect they are due, by virtue of their very being. It is necessary to speak about them with reverence, to be loyal, to not use them as talking points or spell ingredients. It is necessary to take the time, to do the research, to understand the whys, to understand the rituals we take part in when we light incense and offer up a prayer and use an epithet and recite a Homeric hymn. This isn’t a religion where we can just go through the motions. We have to put the proper amount of reverence into our actions. We have to be devout, and loyal, and have a healthy amount of respect and fear towards these beings who we worship and who take the time to guide us on our way. It is necessary to be humble, to understand that what we are doing is worshipping the Theoi. I don’t know about anyone else, but when I pray, when I let incense or a candle or wrap my hands around a set of prayer beads, when I take that time…..I’ve never felt so at peace. That feeling, that love and devotion and serenity…..that’s the feeling of Eusebia. Next time you get to that point, when you feel that, take the time to focus on that feeling and harness it. Meditate on it. That’s what you should draw on when you think of Eusebia and how to interact with the Theoi, those beings that we worship as Hellenic polytheists.

Thank you for listening to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where we discussed Eusebia. For my sources today, I used the book Greek Religion by Walter Burkett, found on the Internet Archive. I also used The Greek Way by Edith Hamilton. I used Baring the Aegis’ and Elanion’s posting on Eusebia as well. Remember, you can find links to the sources, as well as a transcript of today’s episode, on my tumblr at goddessdoeswitchery.tumblr.com. You can also always reach me there as well with any questions. Don’t forget to tune in to the next episode, on November 1st, which will be the last one discussing the pillars the Hellenic polytheism. I will be discussing the final pillar, hagneia. I look forward to seeing you all then!

HAGNEIA

Hello and welcome to today’s episode of Hellenic polytheism 101 where we will be discussing the final pillar, Hangeia. Now, anyone who is able to look at this word might note it bears a striking similarity to the word “hygienic” and then, you would be on to something. Hagneia is more of a ritual purity, an avoidance of miasma and cleansing oneself before you go before the Theoi, before you engage in rituals. Now, does this mean you can’t shoot off a quick prayer before you wash your hands while gardening? No, of course not, thus the “ritual” part of the “ritual purity”. Now, there is actually a lot of disagreement regarding miasma and cleansing in the Hellenic polytheism community. There are those that claim that for the most part, the average person won’t be contaminated with miasma throughout the course of an average life. There are those that believe that we collect miasma throughout the course of our everyday life. There are those that believe that we must fully cleanse ourselves before an offering. There are those that believe that a simple washing of the hands will suffice. There are those that believe the cleansing must be done with khernips, or lustral water. There are those that believe the cleansing can be done with any clean water. And there are those believe any variation of those beliefs combined. Remember one of the best part of Hellenic polytheism is that it is so personable. Therefore, most of this is going to be looking at it from how I work. As always, I urge you to do your own research on the matter.

Now, the first thing to keep in mind is that Hagneia was used to mostly mean ritually pure, spiritually pure, and was understood to mean whether or not someone was fit to approach the gods. There were things you could come into contact with that would create a buildup of miasma and it was best to avoid those things when you could. However, you can’t always do so. Some of those things are death in the family, giving birth, illness (not chronic illness, but like the flu), are all examples of something that can be considered miasmic. The real question we face today is how to cleanse that miasma? Most of the time, the biggest cure for miasma was time. There was a period of time you had to wait to no longer be considered miasmic after having given birth, or after losing a loved one. You were supposed to wait until after an illness has passed. And, you were supposed to cleanse yourself. Mostly that meant washing up, getting physically clean. For today, that means wash your hands, wash your face, take a shower or a bath (especially if you’d been sick, take a shower and change into clean clothes). So that part is really simple.

Now, historically, there was also another thing that rendered you miasmic. It very likely won’t apply to anyone hearing this or reading the transcript, but it is an issue that is covered in pretty much every source I read regarding miasma and Hagneia so I am going to mention it as well. Murdering someone was very much a cause of miasma. There were very special midnight rituals one was supposed to engage in in order to cleanse oneself of the miasma caused by murder. I would say that in today’s society that if you commit murder, you’re likely to get caught and so won’t have much use of said ritual, but that’s statistically unlikely so I’m just gonna say, don’t commit murder and you won’t have to worry about what that midnight ritual is. Mostly I just figured the fact that it’s mentioned so often is an interesting historical side note.

Time to move on the things that are more likely to affect you, such as how to practice Hagneia as a modern worshipper. While I would love it if the average Hellenic polytheist could go to a temple and worship with others on a regular basis, the fact is that most of us worship and prayer and do rituals on our own, or with a very tight knit group in a personal, private space. I myself am mostly a solitary practitioner. Sure, I have my mom and my sister and my kids, and I have a community of people online; but in my daily practice, it’s me, by myself doing the offering and praying and general worshipping. That’s probably true of most of you all as well. So how does a mostly solitary practitioner who isn’t going attending a ritual hosted by or attended by a large amount of people deal with the community based concepts like miasma and Hagneia? Well, in my case it means that I tend to put holiday rituals and offerings on hold when I would be considered miasmic. It means that when a close family member died, I prayed at the funeral for her safe passage and otherwise avoided rituals for a month. It means that when I gave birth to my kids, rituals and offerings were on hold for 10 days, which was about how long it took for me to even be in the mindset to get back to daily worship and prayers. It means that when I am sick, I wait until I am recovered to engage in practice and worship. When I got the flu a few years back, (three times that year, which is what I get for not getting the flu shot, I’m telling you, I’ll never miss it again and if you haven’t yet gotten your flu shot this year, please do) I stayed in bed and rested until I was better. I may have said a few informal prayers, like something along the lines of “please let this stop, I feel like I’m dying here”, but I waited until I was well. I then cleaned my bed and my room and myself and my clothes and changed my toothbrush and brushed my teeth with the clean toothbrush and got clean again before I went back to a regular worship schedule. So, for about 5 weeks that winter, I didn’t do very much in the way or practicing. And that’s okay. That’s what practicing Hagneia and avoiding bringing miasma to the Theoi is.

So, as a modern worshipper, the best way to practice Hagneia is to stay clean. Cleanse yourself of miasma as you come across it, make sure that you are fit to approach the Theoi before you do so. It’s a very simple pillar to follow because for the most, most of us already do. The next time you feel guilty about not being able to worship because you’re sick, or have a death in the family, or a newborn at home, remember that the break you’re taking is required, and important. It’ll be okay. The Theoi will understand.

Thank you for listening to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101. This is the last one that will be spent discussing the Pillars of Hellenic Polytheism. Remember, you can always find a transcript of the podcast on my blog at goddessdoeswitchery.tumblr.com, as well as a link to the sources I used today, which were: Inner Purity and Pollution by Andrej Petrov; Shame and Purity in Euripides' Hippolytus by Charles Segal; Shame in Ancient Greece by David Konstan, The Pillars of Hellenismos and What is and Is Not Miasmic by BaringTheAegis; and finally, A Beginner’s Guide to Hellenismos by Timothy Jay Alexander. You can also always ask me any questions at any time there as well. Finally, I will also have on there a complete transcript of all 7 episodes about the Pillars in a single post as well. Right now, we’re looking at 12 pages, and 8637 words, so it’ll be a very long post, set under a read more. The post will contain links to all the sources used for these last 7 episodes as well, so please fell free to check it out and continue your own research. For the next episode, I’m going to be discussing the Delphic maxims. There are 147 of them, so don’t worry, I’m not about to go fully in depth with each one the way I did the pillars. It’ll be just a simple discussion on the maxims themselves. I look forward to seeing you all then on Nov 15th!

[gallickingun]

katsushimaa x sugawara || gallickingun matchups

@katsushimaa​ : hi morgan!! congrats again hehe, here are my details for the matchup: i love to write, fav color is yellow, i dress casually, my aesthetic is chill, i used to be a middle blocker for vball, fav food is crepe and curry! i’d like to go to an amusement park for my first date, i’m straight so a male pls, and um i just don’t want a toxic relationship hehe. i’m 5’7, i have black hair with brown ends, and brown eyes. i’m an ENFP, i like giving hugs and comfort and love, and i’m LOUD hehe -👹 (my emoji)

Yssa, I hope that you enjoy this one! 💗 Thank you so much for your endless support, and happy belated birthday, bubs!

― Sugawara would love your bright, bubbly personality! You two would mesh well together, and balance one another out pretty well. Your extroverted nature would force Suga out of his shell, but you’d also be in tune to his more introverted side, and allow him to take time away from people after spending too much time around others.

― The two of you can relate to one another - volleyball was a large part of Sugawara’s life, and he can’t just forget about it. Seeing you, and your love for the game you both once played, throws him back and he feels like a high school kid again, carefree and elated with little to no worries or responsibilities.

― Koushi is the literal opposite of toxic. If anything, you’d have to remind him to grow a backbone every once and a while. He’d take care of you, kind and patient.

❁ Sugawara would be there by your side, letting you be your carefree, loud self no matter the situation. But he’d always be ready to keep you calm if you ever got out of hand - whether that’s from being overjoyed, angry, intoxicated, etc. He can read people really well, and he can tell when things are getting over the top, so he’d be there to bring you back down to earth, if you ever needed to be reeled back in.

❁ He absolutely adores it when you wear the color yellow. Even if it’s just a crop top, a tank, or a tee shirt, he calls you sunshine whenever he sees you in it because it just makes you shine so bright. He knows it’s your favorite color, and he thinks you look absolutely stunning in it, and the certain shade makes you happy, which makes him happy. Seeing you glowing makes his soul sing.

❁ It’s not uncommon for the two of you to strike up a game of volleyball in the backyard, or even to mess around and set and spike to one another. It’s something easy and nostalgic for you both, and Suga secretly gets a rush from seeing you play. It’s so exciting to him that you both share this knowledge and passion for something that was so near and dear to him for a large portion of his life. You wear his old jerseys and jackets, and he can’t get enough of seeing your small frame wrapped up in his merchandise. 

❁ Koushi encourages you to communicate with him, knowing that is the most important aspect of any relationship. If you ever struggle, he is always patient and steadfast, allowing you time to explore your emotions and try to rephrase yourself as many times as needed until you get your point across. He’s slow to anger, and forgiving as a saint, which means that he’s willing to take as much time as you need to dive into any deep topics, take things slow, or let off a little steam, so long as you two can come to a compromise and discuss everything together.

❁ He loves to love on you, and in return, you to him. He’s all about holding your hand, everywhere you go. He’ll stand behind you when you’re waiting in lines, his hands on your hips, and if you’re there long enough, he’ll even rest his chin on your shoulder. When it’s just the two of you at home, he’ll give you casual affections - a kiss to the forehead as he passes by, a squeeze to your hip when he wants to tease you, holding you by the calves as you stand in front of him to discuss dinner. 

“Ha! I got you!” Your giggles can be heard from across the street, but it doesn’t matter because you sound practically angelic, and Suga doesn’t want to ruin that. He retrieves the ball from it’s spot in the grass, turning to look at you over his shoulder, “All right, you got me. But I’ll get you on the next one!”

You barely have time to breathe before he’s setting the ball in midair, catapulting it towards you. Your hands are raised, which leaves you vulnerable to his actual attack. You’re assaulted with arms around your waist, tackling you into the soft grass, your body cradled to keep you free of injury.

Your arms wrap around Sugawara’s body, clinging onto him like an animal as you howl in laughter, “Ko’! That was cheating! I could have totally hit that!”

“Of course you could,” he giggles into your neck, running kisses up your throat like little seeds, “You’re amazing! You always hit every one of my serves, even if they’re absolute garbage.”

Narrowing your eyes, you look up at him, “Your serves are always wonderful, don’t say such things!”

He’s laughing again, leaning over you with his forearms on either side of your head to steady himself from crumbling atop your frame. Suga kisses your nose and then brushes his knuckles along the curve of your jaw, “You’re so pretty, you know. Absolutely beautiful, like a picture.”

“Ko’,” your voice is breathless and you blame the game you’ve been playing rather than the man straddling your waist. He smiles in return, familiar dimples carving into his cheeks, the last thing you see before he’s captured your lips in a kiss and wiped your attention away from anything other than the way his mouth feels melded to your own.

Matchups Original Post | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Commissions | AO3 | Writing Tag

[lifeofroos]

Part 24. 

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, they talk about Nico’s feelings towards his contact with Hades. The rest can be found on AO3, FanFiction.net and Tumblr tags like Nico di Angelo, writing, trials of apollo etc.! 

This Might be Crazy: Chapter 24: Mogu Mogu Jelly Tea

‘How do you feel about the time you spend with Hades?’ While he said it, Dionysus pushed a small bottle my way. Mogu Mogu jelly tea, it read on the front. I had never heard of it, but was curious to find out how it tasted.

‘You’ve been talking to Hades!?’ Mary paused putting on mascara to give me a surprised look.

I looked at Dionysus, and then to Mary. ‘To first give an answer to Mary: Yes, I have been talking to Hades. I want to have an actual father-son relationship with him.’ 

‘Oh.’ You could see in her face that she had another question. I stayed quiet, while she put her mascara away. 

She closed her hand mirror and walked over to our table. ‘Hm. Well, as he already asked actually,’ she said while waving in Dionysus’ direction, ‘how do you feel about that?’ She made eye contact with Dionysus for a few seconds.

I thought for a a bit, before turning to Mary. ‘There is gradual improvement. He has been trying and learning.’ I shrugged and looked at Dionysus for a second. ‘But I sort of feel like I have to give counseling to him instead of the other way around. Like, I keep saying that it’llbe okay and that he does not need to feel anxious and that we can work it out. I don’t think that is his fault, because it is all a first time for him, but…’ I shrugged.

Dionysus opened his mouth to say something, but Mary was quicker: ‘You sometimes feel like your parent is the kid and you need to tell them stuff about the world instead of the other way around, even though you should not be responsible for the way he acts and should not constantly have to reassure him.’  I looked at her. 

‘I mean, yes.’ 

Mary sighed and put a hand on her small baby bump.

‘Well, eh… what is your experience with Aphrodite?’ I asked. I was genuinely curious. ‘Maybe it helps to compare?’ I shot Dionysus a glance. He did not seem to fully agree with that, but he allowed us to go on. 

Mary stared at the wall. ‘Well… I met her thrice. The first time was pretty regular. You know, your godly parent comes to you to tell you that you need to make them proud, you know it.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But the second time, it was because I just had my heart broken by some boy I had been dating for a few years.’ She looked at the table. ‘I was pretty broken up about it, but all she said was that I should just forget it. That this was meant to happen and next time I should just break his heart before he could break mine. She said it as if… as if it was that easy. Just say that you are over it and suddenly you are over it. And then make someone hurt the same way you are next time.’ She stroked her bump. ‘I… I explained to her that that was not how it worked, in a way that might not have been the most graceful way to bring it, if you know what I mean. I think… my mother seemed too stunned to understand what I said. She said ‘alright’ and left.’ Mary stopped moving her hand around. ‘I think she has heard it time and time again, but it just does not get through to her. Oh, and the third time was when she heard I was pregnant. She gave me some baby stuff.’ She shrugged. ‘That was handy, I guess.’

She shot a glance at Dionysus, who was looking at the street outside. 

I opened my bottle of Mogu Mogu and took a sip. ‘For Aphrodite, that might be true. But while I agree with the part where they sometimes seem stunned about something normal, I don’t think Hades has heard the things I am telling him hundreds of times before.’ I shrugged and pushed my bottle around. ‘He does not have many children and he certainly does not have many children that actually came to the Underworld before their death. This experience is new for him. He… while it still bothers me, I think I understand why he acts this way. And he seems open to change at least.’

 I looked at Dionysus, who took a deep breath. For a moment, it was as if everything the gods had ever done flashed before his eyes. ‘Nico, your feelings are totally justified. It is not nice to feel like you are the one to coach your father instead of the other way around. And you don’t have to defend him.’ He sighed ‘And about the gods’ behaviour… all I can say is that the gods have always behaved like that.’ He stared at an undefined point. For a second, I looked at Mary. Silently, we agreed to let him come up with more to say by himself, without pushing him.

We made some small talk about the baby, or I tried to (I really did not know anything about babies, but I did learn how crazy expensive it was), but Dionysus did not join in. He was staring off into space. 

‘The gods do need some things spelled out to them because they don’t get it,’ he muttered after some time. ‘But there are also things we do because it’s just… it’s better. Not… not always for the child, but in the long run. Some gods never interact with their children, because they think it is better if the kid can just come to terms with the fact that their parent will never be there. Others will truly try to raise them, mostly the… smaller gods, so to speak. And we’ve got everything in between. Usually… what the god thinks is best is what will happen.’ He stared at the floor. ‘I did not understand that either when I was a demigod, Hestia had to… sort of explain it to me. And even she had difficulty with it.’ 

I took a sip of sweet tea. ‘It is difficult for all of you too? To let go of your children?’

Mary shrugged. ‘Perhaps, but you also seem to say that most gods will interpret better in the long run as better for their own souls.’

His expression darkened after Mary’s words. ‘Hm.’ He swiftly shook his head around, after which he seemed more present in the moment. ‘Anyway, the important thing is that Hades is now willing to be there for Nico. In a way I would agree that he is acting like a child, but he is willing to change century old behaviour for you. But that also does not excuse him from acting like a child. If you understand what I mean. And you do not have to cater to him. If he goes that way, you say you are tired and you come back to camp.’

‘I… yes.’ It was enough for now. Dionysus nodded sternly.

Mary stared at the table. I did not know whether she did not want to comply with what he was saying or if she begrudgingly accepted it. 

I took a few sips of Mogu Mogu. The bottle was almost empty, as a sign that it almost done for now. Yet, Dionysus had one more thing to say: ‘Nico, do you want to go on with it? Aside from my opinion, or your fathers’ behaviour?’

‘Yes. For now at least, I am sure that I want to go on with it.’ 

‘Good. But make sure that you don’t go over your own boundaries.’ 

I nodded. Then I took the last sips of Mogu Mogu, signaling that therapy was over. 

Before we left, Dionysus asked Mary some things about the baby. Although she had already told me some of it before, she seemed more than happy to say it all again. After that, we waved her goodbye and went home. 

When we came back to camp half-blood, I grabbed Dionysus’ hand. ‘Wait. I… I think you try to take more care of the demigods as well, even though…’ I shrugged.

‘That’s different, Nico. I should be way better than I am now. I was a demigod once, after all. Hades just tries, even though he has known nothing except for godhood.’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think it is different.’ 

He paused, before saying: ‘Go to your cabin, Nico.’ 

I nodded, before turning around and running off. But I must confess I did not go to the Hades cabin before collecting Will from the Apollo cabin. 

A/N: After I was done writing I figured out that Mogu Mogu is a Dutch concept and it has only been introduced in the Netherlands. But Dionysus is magic y’all he can just magic that stuff and give it to Nico. 

I wanted to show more of Mary, because I have something with her planned in a few chapters, but for that she needed to be more of a character first. 

This chapter seems kinda edgy I don’t know. To be upfront: I am thinking of taking a small posting break to sort out my story, because the last chapters feel weird to me. But knowing myself I probably won’t do it.

Also I am thinking about doing a look-into-dionysus-character-as-of-now bonus chapter in the future.

I must sincerely apologize for how long the chapter about Maria di Angelo is taking. I a, going go look further into it, but for now the planning is: first Apollo will become a god again, then Nico will do more with Hades and meet Persephone, and that will trigger him to talk about his mother. There will be a few interlude chapters, to make the story lighter. I hope that’s okay.

[pllandcompany]

I Choose You

Summary: Hospital AU! A look into how Roman and Logan’s relationship developed.

Pairings: Pre-romantic into Romantic Logince, background QPP Moxiety

Warnings: discussion of medical procedures, blood mention, violence/shooting mention, mention of drug use/addiction, anxiety, crying, a (and one almost) kiss

Tagged:  @shxtxpp @apologieslogan  @crofters-jam @asylia5911 @ab-artist @band-be-boss-blog @unbefuckinglieveable@flyingfreeyt @thecatchat @thefallendog @backatthebein @insufferablegayastronaut

Notes: Guess who’s back at it again after months of writer’s block?? I’ve wanted to write this story for a while. It does reference a few other fics I’ve written in this AU so here, here, and here are the links for those stories if you want more context as the events of this story are not in order of how they happened based on the established timeline. Also, heads up that I’ve only linked the first part of Out Loud (last link) and Don’t You Remember (second link) but If you want full details (or if you just love my writing so much, insert eye roll here), go to my masterlist and read all of the parts. Still, it should be fairly clear even without reading the previous stories. Okay! Enough talking! Enjoy!

Why wasn’t he awake?

That deadly, nerve-wracking, gut-twisting question had been bouncing around Dr. Roman Courtland’s mind for five days now. The deadline of the withdrawal of care date loomed over his head like a terrorizing and expansive storm ready to break open at any moment. Fourteen days was just simply not enough time. Did the man have no hope?

Note to self: Remind Logan to change that stupidly short time period when he wakes up.

In all actuality, Logan being in a coma was not the expected outcome. It was a nearly perfect surgery. The bleeding was minimal and deftly controlled by his swift hand when it occurred. There was no sign of post-operative stroke or brain death. He should be awake. Yet there Logan lay as still and pale as driven snow, the steady beep of the machines being the only sign of life in the room. It shouldn’t be the case, but it was and Roman was damned determined to find out why. This wasn’t just any patient. No, this was a colleague and a gifted one at that; Logan was quite possibly the most brilliant cardio-thoracic surgeons this hospital had ever seen. Not only was this a professional point of pride, Logan was also the man who saved his brother’s life while simultaneously putting up with his relentless torment the entire time Remy was hospitalized. Roman knew he had been unfair to the surgeon, cruel even and he has certainly spent an exorbitant amount of energy trying to make up for that fact since, including personally taking on his case when Logan turned up with a brain tumor. Shortly before his diagnosis, the two finally found themselves on better terms and Roman was…looking forward to getting to know the doctor more, figure out what truly makes him tick. Now he was potentially the surgeon responsible for destroying that precious of a mind, for squandering the opportunity to…learn more about Logan? Roman refused to accept that reality. Logan Taylor was going to wake up if he had any say in it. He had to; Roman wasn’t ready to lose him-

“Roman? What are you still doing here?”

Patton. Damn it. “Looking over Logan’s post-op scans.” Roman felt the deep sigh more than he heard it.

“For the hundredth time, I bet. Roman, take a break, please. You have to step away at least for a moment. Have you even eaten anything?”

“Have I figured this out yet? Then the answer is no and I’m not leaving until that changes.” A small pang of guilt tightened Roman’s chest briefly. Yelling at Patton was like kicking a puppy, a completely undeserved action. As usual, Patton didn’t even seem fazed which only served to make the neurosurgeon feel worse. Instead, he simply sat across from the distraught doctor, empathy shining in his eyes.

“Roman, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“Then what the hell else am I supposed to do?!” Roman flailed his arms in sheer frustration, the force of action flinging the scans everywhere. He roughly ran a shaky hand through his hair and breathed deeply, trying to control himself while Patton quietly picked up the discarded films.

“I wish I could tell you what to do, Roman. I don’t know how to fix Logan. But I do know you’re not going to find the answer like this. Please take a break. Get some sleep. Come at this again in the morning.”

Roman buried his head into his hands. “What if something happens when I walk away? What if he gets worse and I’m not here to stop it? What if I can’t figure this out and I…and we lose him?” Patton gently took Roman’s hands out of his hair and smoothed the wavy locks down, a solemn yet knowing smile playing on his lips.

“I know you’re scared. I am too. But we don’t get to know what’s going to happen sometimes. All we can do is our best. Which you can’t do if you’re exhausted. So, come with me. We’re going to have dinner and then you’re going to an on-call room to lie down. You don’t have to sleep. You can ramble all the medicine at me that you want, every detail. Maybe then we can come up with something together. How does that sound?” Roman nodded silently, allowing Patton to lead him out of his office.

An hour and a sandwich later, Roman was out like a light and Patton was quietly sneaking out of the on-call room.

Mission successful.

****

“Good morning, nerd!”

God, Roman was insufferable. Logan let out a soul-exiting sigh. “Dr. Courtland, must you insist on calling me that?”

“Oh, don’t get your briefs in a twist, Dr. Taylor; you know I tease only out of love.” Logan hoped the tenseness in his shoulders wasn’t noticeable.

There he was using that word around him again.

“You cannot possibly love me. We’ve only known each other a few months. Besides, I seem to recall you having a certain disdain for me when I first arrived here. It would be impossible for that to have resolved itself in totality so soon.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Roman stop and turn back to him. Suddenly, Logan was grateful they were the only two in the lounge.

“Logan…you still think so ill of me?” The cardiologist barely held back the gasp that bubbled in his throat at the hurt look on the neurosurgeon’s face.

“No…not of you?”

“Then of yourself?” Roman sat next to Logan, setting his thigh ablaze when they brushed against each other. Logan hesitated for a moment as his mind struggled to find the best way to answer.

“That’s not it either. I simply meant that we are very different people with not much in common. I’m not certain as to how we will coalesce outside of being coworkers.” If we will.

“Well, that isn’t always a negative thing. I like that we’re different. Means there’s much we can learn from each other.”

“Of course. Our specialties differ greatly; there’s bound to be new information learned between us.” Roman chuckled warmly. 

“While I find your habit of taking things literally quite refreshing, in this case it led you astray. You’re so much more than the job, Lo. You are strong and wise, brilliant and beautifully complicated in ways I’d like to know more about. If you’d let me that is.” The neurosurgeon’s face held so much hope, it metaphorically made Logan’s heart just…stop. How ironic that he, the cardio-thoracic surgeon would be the one to need pulmonary resuscitation from just one look from the towheaded neurosurgeon. ​ It just wasn’t reasonable how one person could be so disarming, so confounding, so attractive…

Logan had to get out of there.

“Ah! Yes, well, then I concede to your point, Dr. Courtland. Fare-farewell.” The older doctor jumped up like a jack in the box and practically sprinted out of the room, the edge of his white coat narrowly missing Roman’s face. 

It didn’t bother him too much once he realized that Logan hadn’t said no.

****

“Okay, Logan. Let’s try this again. Pick up the pencil and write your name.” Logan stared at the yellow No. 2 as if it would jump up and slap him at any moment. “Can we go back to the ball?”

Roman almost chuckled. “You’ve already done that portion. Your grip strength is greatly improved. Now we need to build your prehensile strength back. Go ahead, pick up the pencil. Just try.”

After a few tense moments, Logan finally held the writing instrument. His heart pounded with anticipation as he gingerly placed the tip to the paper in front of him. He pressed down ever so slightly and began to write his name.

He didn’t make it through the ‘g’ before the force of his tremor snapped the graphite.

In a fit of pure rage, Logan swiftly grabbed the pencil in his left hand and threw it across the room. It sailed past Roman’s ear so close he felt the wind move his hair. Before he could react, Logan was standing and tossing his chair across the room. A loud clattering sound stunned Roman into stock still reticence, not daring to test the cardiologist in this state.

“Damn it! Damn it all to hell!”

“Logan, just try to stay calm- “

“No, you said this would work! Yet it’s been a month and I still can’t use my hand! An entire month and I still can’t operate because you make promises you can’t keep!” Silence. “I’m sorry. That was…an unbecoming display.” He moved to restore the room to its original order but Roman intercepted him. He placed two warm hands on Logan’s shoulders, drawing a gasp from the sudden contact.

“You don’t have to apologize, Logan. I understand. I’m surprised you’ve held it together this long.”

Logan refused to make eye contact with Roman. “I still should not have behaved in that manner. Especially after everything you’ve done for me, I shouldn’t be lashing out at you, I am alive because of you, I should just be grateful for that- “

“Dr. Taylor, will you please look at me?” When Logan didn’t move, Roman took his hand under the surgeon’s chin and gently lifted his head. His heart nearly broke at the shattered look on Logan’s face. “See? I’m not mad. What you’re feeling is normal because what you’re going through is hard. It’s okay to get frustrated.” Roman pushed back a lock of the cardiologist’s dark hair and Logan’s eyes closed, leaning into the touch. His head dropped alarmingly close to Roman’s forehead and the neurosurgeon shifted to hold his face with both hands. Logan’s lips parted and his gaze suddenly changed to something…insistent, almost desperate. The question he was asking was obvious and oh, how Roman wanted to acquiesce. Maybe he could, maybe it would be okay…no, it wouldn’t be right; Logan was his very vulnerable patient right now and his coworker. Complicated wouldn’t even begin to describe the nature of their involvement. Roman took a step back and cleared his throat, turning to grab the chair and returned it to the table.

“Look, your hand works. You just have to remind your brilliant brain that it does. And it takes time to build new neural pathways so…try again. Write your name, as much as you can.” Logan swallowed tensely, seating himself once again in the chair. He closed his eyes in a silent prayer, willing the pressure in his chest to release. He looked when he felt velvet skin against the back of his hand: Roman was holding it. Smiling gently at the supportive touch, he picked up the second pencil Roman had conjured from his white coat.

This time, he made it through the ‘g.’

****

“Tell me a secret.”

“…what?”

“We’re getting to know each other. Setting aside our differences, becoming…friends. Friends tell each other things so…tell me a secret.”

“We are sitting on a bench on our lunch break in the middle of our workday. What about this setting makes you suddenly want to have an intimate conversation?”

“Deflecting…”

“Oh, for heavens’ sake, fine!”

“…Paging Dr. Taylor? Are you actually going to say something?”

“I…I want children. Or at least a child. I want to be a father.”

“Well, that’s a mighty forward proposition.”

“Dr. Courtland…”

“Oh, hush now, you know I’m kidding! But why is that such a secret?”

“Because no one expects it of me. People see me as cold and emotionless; no one would think me fit to be a father, much less have a desire to raise children. I’m not like Patton; I don’t seem like ‘the type,’ if you will.”

“I don’t agree with that at all. I think you’d make an excellent father. You’re very practical and you’re extremely dedicated to your patients. There’s no way that wouldn’t translate over into being a parent.”

“Oh…well, uh, thank you. I, uh, believe it is your turn.”

“…I have a twin.”

“In addition to your four other brothers?”

“No, he’s one of the five of us. His name is…was Remus.”

“Was?”

“Truth be told, I don’t know if I should be saying is or was about him. I don’t even know if he’s alive or not.”

“Roman…”

“He was a surgeon in the military. Reconstructive surgery was technically his specialty but over there he functioned mostly as a trauma surgeon. He loved it; he was never phased by gruesome injuries or the horrors of combat. He just did his job saving as many lives as he could so they could go on to keep ours back home safe. One day, their compound was raided and…he was never heard from again. A lot of soldiers died that day but…they never found his body.”

“Oh, Roman…you have my deepest condolences. The amount of grief you’ve had to endure…it’s quite unfair.”

“Don’t worry, Specs. I’m all right. I know it may sound…completely ridiculous but he could still be alive. It’s one of the few things I still hope for…that one day I’ll see my brother again.”

“I understand even more why you’re so protective of the brothers you have here now.”

“Congratulations, Doctor. You just figured out why we tell each other secrets.”

****

The first thing Roman felt when he woke up was pain. Pain in his chest, pain in his throat, God, it felt like he was choking on something-

“Roman? Roman, calm down, don’t fight the intubation, okay? We’ll get it out, just hold on.” That sounded like Virgil, why was Virgil taking him off a vent?

Oh. Right. He got shot.

He got shot and almost died.

He got shot and needed surgery. He had just had surgery to take a bullet out of his chest. Chest…cardiovascular…where was Logan?

Roman knew he wouldn’t be able to get much out at first, but he had to try. He took a breath that rattled in his throat and attempted to speak. “Lo…Lo-”

“Shh, shh, don’t try to talk, Ro. I know who you want; I’ll go get him.” Virgil turned to leave, not even making it one step before he was stopped short by a vice-like grip on his wrist. He turned back to see Roman staring at him with wide eyes, almost pleading with him to understand. Virgil nodded; the message clearly received.

“I know you’re grateful. I’m not hurt. I’m just…really glad to see you make it, man.” Virgil left before anyone could acknowledge the tears threatening to stain his face and Roman found that being alone was scarier than it should be. After all, he had no idea where the shooter was; Logan could have hidden him away to fix him, he could still be here somewhere, lurking, waiting to take another shot that would surely end his life this time-

“Roman? Calm down, your heart rate is way too high. Just breathe, you’re safe.” The neurosurgeon’s eyes met with two dark pools of worry and he locked onto them, Logan urging him to match his breathing. “That’s right; breathe with me. You’re safe. We’re safe right now.” Once Roman’s chest evened out, Logan reached over and grabbed a paper cup full of lukewarm water and handed it to the eager patient.

“Don’t drink too fast, Roman. Slow sips. There you go.” A moment of silence passed. “I’m sorry it’s not cold, I couldn’t seem to locate any ice.”

“The…the shooter-”

“Dead.” Logan’s tone was abrupt and cold. “The shooter is dead; you don’t have to worry about him any longer.”

Roman nodded slowly to not aggravate his already sore body any further. “You saved me.”

Logan nodded absently, staring a hole into the linoleum floor. “I know.”

“Then you know…you know I cannot thank you enough- “

“How dare you?” Logan whispered softly.

“Wh- what?”

“How dare you! How dare you just…waltz into my life and torture me and make me hate you then apologize and befriend me and make me respect you?”

Roman’s eyes widened in shock. “I-I’m sorry- “

“No! No, you do not get to apologize because…because you don’t even leave it there; I can’t just respect you, you then start to make me like you and want you around and want to be near you and then, oh God, you even go as far as to make me fall for you! And just when I figure that out, just when I’m finally able to admit the depth of my feelings for you to myself, just when I finally muster up the courage to even consider telling you about how I…feel, then you decide to go and almost die on me?! And on top of it, you make me be the one to have to save you! How DARE YOU?!”

The entire room stuttered to a halt, save for Logan’s ragged breathing. He was outright crying at this point and quite honestly, Roman wasn’t far behind him. “Logan…I’m so sorry- “

“Shut up! Just shut up! Please just…just tell me you want me too. Tell me I’m not crazy. Tell me that I don’t ever have to live without you because today I learned that losing you feels far too similarly to dying myself so if that is not the case…tell me now so I can figure out how to survive.” A long, tense, quiet moment passed before either of them spoke again.

“Logan,” Roman coughed abruptly, wincing as the motion sent shockwaves of pain through his ribs. He cleared his abused throat and tried again. “Logan, look at me.” The dark-haired surgeon looked up into the soulful eyes of the injured man laying in the hospital bed below him.

“Roman, please,” he pleaded, his voice impossibly soft.

“You can survive without me…but I promise you, as long as I am alive, you will not ever have to.” Logan’s head shot up and before he could control himself, he launched into the bed with Roman, just barely remembering to avoid his ribs and all the wires attached to him. He mumbled a hushed prayer of thank you, thank you, thank you as he curled himself into the space between Roman’s body and the railing of the bed. Roman took a moment to settle before he rested his head against the taller man’s shoulder, exhaustion beginning to blur out the edges of his vision. Logan kissed the crown of his head and wrapped his arms around his newfound love in the gentlest protective hold he could muster, allowing the neurosurgeon to succumb to sleep.

“Rest, Roman. I have you. You are safe. You’re safe with me.”

****

Dr. Picani was a typically patient man but this? This argument he was deeply tired of.

“What I fail to understand is how I continually prove myself to be trustworthy over and over again and you continually shut me out!”

“It is not about you, Roman.”

“Then what is it about? Why wouldn’t you tell me about something like this?”

“I’m telling you now!”

“Yeah, two weeks after the fact and I technically had to hear about it from Virgil!”

“Have you considered that. just maybe, I felt some shame? I had achieved six months of solid sobriety and I nearly threw all of that away in mere minutes!”

“You were obviously triggered by something.”

“I was weak! I failed to keep myself together yet again! And if it weren’t for Virgil dragging me to a meeting and convincing me to tell you, I’d probably still be failing.” Struggling doesn’t make you weak, Logan. The therapist scribbled the thought in his notebook, making a reminder to bring that point up later. He was about to interject when he realized that for the first time in a few minutes, there was silence. Dr. Picani’s head snapped up at the sudden quiet to see Roman’s eyes rapidly filling with tears. Well, this is unexpected.

“Roman? What’s wrong? Say what you’re thinking.”

“I…am I the trigger? Have I pushed you too far?” Good job, Roman, the therapist praised silently, way to take ownership!

Logan’s stomach churned guiltily at the tentative question. “No. You have gotten so much better about that. You did nothing wrong, you are perfect, it’s me, I am…broken.” Logan cursed himself internally for how his voice cracked at the end of his sentence, but he had to keep going. “I want to be good enough for you, but I constantly fail you and I don’t want you to see it. But I fear that one day you will and the fact that I love you won’t be enough to make you stay.” And good job being honest about your fears, Logan. These two have come so far.

While Roman knew just how necessary it was for Logan to admit how he felt, God, how it broke Roman’s heart. He reached out slowly and touched Logan’s hand, chest tightening even more when he felt the muscles jump under his palm. He breathed a sigh of relief when the brunette managed to make eye contact with him, the shared gaze giving him the courage to continue.

“Logan, you’re forgetting one very important thing. I love you too. I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to be you. Yes, you are strong and brilliant, and I love when you are confident and at your best. But I don’t just love you then. I also love you when you’re hurt, when you’re scared, when you’re less than perfect. Lord knows that I am all those things and you don’t shy away from any of that with me. We’re all a little bit broken but we need each other to keep ourselves together. So, yes, I want you to be strong and healthy but if you can’t be? If it gets hard for you to be that? I still want you.”

“All of me?” Logan whispered.

“The whole damn thing.” Roman paused suddenly, a moment of deliberation passing through his eyes. Logan watched as he seemed to come to some sort of internal decision. He felt the grip on his hand tighten into a gentle squeeze…and then gasped as he watched Roman slide off the couch they shared and drop to one knee.

“Oh my God,” Logan choked out. A loud clatter sounded in front of them as Emile dropped his notebook, both hands flying up to either side of his face,

“Oh my God!” Roman chuckled damply at the poorly contained squeal.

“Save it for the end, Picani.” He pulled out a small black box from his pocket, relishing in the way Logan’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. “I’ve been carrying around this thing for weeks wondering when the right time to ask you was, but truth be told, I could have done it anytime. I didn’t have to wait for some perfect moment because every moment is perfect with you. An appropriate time period in our relationship didn’t need to pass because every minute that goes by is another minute that I am undoubtedly grateful to have spent with you. I didn’t need a counselor to tell me if I’m making the right decision. I just need to look at you and see that all my futures, all my forevers and tomorrows live in your eyes. You are the answer to every question I’ve ever had, even the ones I didn’t know I was asking. So today, I am not proposing marriage. I am affirming my sure commitment to you for the rest of my life. The ring is yours today, tomorrow, and for years to come. There’s no time limit, no expiration date. All you have to do is take it when you’re ready.”

Logan sat in stunned silence as his mind turned over every word of Roman’s confession. Slowly taking the sapphire studded ring from the now open box, he turned it over in his fingers and watched as the light danced with the gems, searching the depths of his heart for any hesitation. He handed the ring back to Roman and slowly turned his hand over, palm facing down.

“Put it on me. I’m ready.”

The squeal that Dr. Picani let out threatened to break glass.

****

“Patton, I must insist that you let go of me before you completely cut off my oxygen supply!"

Patton somehow managed to squeeze Logan even tighter for the briefest of seconds before releasing him.

“Sorry, Doc, I’m just so darned excited for you both! Virgil, isn’t it just amazing? They’re getting married!” Virgil chuckled at the giddy look on Patton’s face.

“I swear, you are a living heart eyes emoji. And yeah, it’s pretty damn cool considering you guys hated each other when you met.”

“My God, you would bring that up,” Roman rolled his eyes as Logan and Patton collectively groaned. Patton delivered a playful smack to Virgil’s arm.

“Virgil! Leave them alone, they’re in love now.” Virgil raised an eyebrow down at his partner’s glossy eyes, almost feverish with excitement and something close to…envy? He elected not to comment as turned to embrace the newly engaged pair one more time.

“Whatever, I know the truth. But seriously, congratulations. I’m sorry I’ve gotta run, I’m assisting on a general surgery case and I’ve gotta change out of chief attire. I’ll see you both later this week, celebratory sushi? Friday night?”

“You bet, Tickle-Me-Emo!” Virgil glared at the nickname as he disappeared into the bathroom of the attendings’ lounge. Patton went in for the hundredth hug and jumped as his pager suddenly went off.

“Uh oh, gotta run, looks like a crash C-section. Congrats to you both again! Bye!” he shouted boisterously as he ran down the hallway.

“I’m afraid I must depart as well, my love. It does not inspire respect in my residents if I’m late for rounds.” Roman beamed at the cardiac surgeon, seemingly unaware of anything he just said. “What?” Logan asked hotly.

“You called me your love. You claimed me.” Embarrassment curled up Logan’s neck as he shook his head fondly and leaned in to kiss his now fiancée.

“You are so endearingly sentimental. I will see you at home, my love.” He smirked as he walked out of the door at the way Roman’s knees seemed to buckle just the smallest amount. The neurosurgeon stood in the middle of the room chuckling to himself when he heard a low, smooth voice speak up behind him.

“You’re engaged?” Roman turned around, his face falling in sympathy at the person behind him.

“Oh, Declan…yes. Yes, I am.” The fellow surgeon turned his face to the side to hide his tears, displaying the long scar that ran down the left side of his face. Without warning, he was suddenly being embraced by Roman who seemed to be unable to stop his own tears as they soaked the corner of his scrubs.

“You know, if Remus were here and we weren’t already married by now, we could have planned a double wedding,” Declan murmured.

“He would have loved that. He loved you so much.” Declan pulled away, his glance suddenly dropping to the floor.

“I wish I could tell you what happened to him.” Roman placed a hand on the orthopedic surgeon’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I know you weren’t there. You couldn’t have done anything to change it.” Declan smiled weakly, nodding a silent goodbye before leaving the room. He paused at the doorway facing the empty hallway.

“Congratulations. Really, you deserve to be happy.” Roman let out a small sob as Declan left, swiftly brushing the tears away before heading to his own rounds.

Neither of them remembered that Virgil was in the bathroom, listening to their entire conversation…and absolutely seething with fury.

[athena-athena]

Snowed In - Steve Rogers x Reader

Request from @celticheart72​: “Had a one-night stand and now you’re snowed in” with Steve Rogers.

Thanks for requesting this one, @celticheart72!  ❤❤  To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle this at first, but once I started writing, I really got into it.  haha  It ended up a lot longer than originally planned (~2300 words!), but I hope you like it!

(Let’s hope the third time’s the charm because Tumblr has been a pain tonight and has eaten my first two posts, as well as the original ask for this prompt.)

Warnings:  Implied sex.  One-night stand.  

Tagged List:  @bigbandbombshell @trashpandaorigins (I’m not going to use my normal tagged list for these, so if you’d like to be added to my temporary tagged list for this holiday bingo, just let me know!)

You walked into the cabin you were sharing with Marta, your co-worker in one of the labs at Stark Industries, as well as your best friend, and looked around in awe.

“This place is amazing!”

“Did you think Tony Stark would rent a place that wasn’t amazing?”

“I still can’t believe he rented the entire ski lodge for his employees.  Most people just give gift cards.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t just buy the entire ski lodge.”  

You laughed and dropped your suitcase and garment bag on the bed, then walked to the window and rested your hands on the windowsill as you gazed out at the scene.  “This view is beautiful.  And look! It’s starting to snow!”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t snow too much to make us miss the holiday party tonight! What do you think of this dress?”

You turned from the window to look at the dress Marta was holding up for your inspection. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks!  It cost almost my entire paycheck this week.  What did you bring to wear tonight?”

You unzipped your garment bag and held up your dress, which was floor-length and ivory, spangled with silver and gold stars.  “I didn’t pay nearly as much as you did. There are such things as clearance sales, you know?”

“Oh my god, that’s gorgeous!  You’re going to turn more than a few heads tonight.”

“I highly doubt that.”  You laughed again and hung your dress up, stopping to admire the way it sparkled in the light before you returned to your suitcase and finished unpacking.  “It’s not too over the top, is it?”

“No way!  It’s perfect, don’t worry.”

You walked into the lobby of the hotel with Marta later than evening, still feeling self-conscious about your dress.

“Will you stop messing with your dress?  You look amazing, so stop worrying about it.”

“I’m just not used to wearing stuff like this.”  It was cut a little deeper in the front than anything else you’d ever worn, and you reached your hand up to cover the front of it again.  

Marta grabbed your hand and held it tightly to her side.  “Stop!  It’s not that revealing and you’re just drawing more attention to it by keeping your hands up there.  Besides, with all the Avengers here tonight, I’m sure most people will be too busy staring at them to worry about how low your dress is cut.”

“You’re right.”  You squeezed Marta’s hand and the two of you walked into the ballroom together.  

“Promise me you’ll have a good time tonight.”

“I promise, Marta, I’ll try to have a good time.”

“Don’t just stand next to the wall all night!  That dress does not deserve to be hidden in the shadows.  And how many opportunities will you have to hang out with the Avengers?”

“Well, we do work for Stark Industries, it’s not impossible to think we may bump into them again.”

“Yeah, but this is the perfect opportunity to really get to talk to them!  I wonder where Thor is.  Do you see him?”  She stood on the tips of her toes as she tried to spot him among the crowd.

You smiled at your friend’s eagerness.  “I’m sure you’ll find him soon.”

The two of you mingled for a while, bumping into Tony and Pepper briefly. Pepper gushed about your dress while Marta pressed Tony for information about Thor’s whereabouts.  

You managed to pull Marta away eventually, and, as you dragged her over to the edge of the room, said in a teasing tone, “You could be a little more subtle about your crush on Thor, you know?”  

“Why? I don’t care if he knows.”

You rolled your eyes.  “Let’s go get drinks.”

The two of you maneuvered through the crowd, which was made a little trickier by your floor-length dress.  You glanced down to make sure you’d lifted it enough to keep from tripping on the hem when someone suddenly bumped into you.

A hand grabbed your arm, firmly but gently, and a voice next to your ear said, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m -” You stopped talking, momentarily stunned, as you looked into the blue eyes of Steve Rogers.  You shook your head slightly.  “Sorry, yeah, I’m fine.”

He let go of your arm, but stayed close to you.  “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You were fine, except for your burning cheeks and the embarrassment you could feel rolling off of you in waves.  

“Well, I’m sorry for bumping into you.  I should have been watching where I was going.”

“It’s fine!  It’s not your fault.”

“Can I at least get you a drink to make up for it?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!  It’s okay, I promise.”

He smiled.  “I’d feel better about it if I could get that drink for you.”

You returned his smile.  “Okay, thanks.”

You noticed Marta a little way ahead of you as she turned around to look for you in the crowd.  She gave you a thumbs up when she saw you with Steve.  

You blushed again and steered Steve to a bar set up on the other side of the room from Marta, who you knew would be only too happy to embarrass you with her enthusiasm.

When you reached the bar, Steve asked what you wanted to drink.  You told him and took the opportunity to admire his profile.  You’d seen him on TV before but you’d never been this close and you were a bit awed by how handsome he was.  

“Here you go.”  

He handed your drink to you, effectively shaking you out of your thoughts.  You blushed again and hoped that his super-soldier abilities didn’t include mind-reading.  

He led you through the crowd again, cupping your elbow lightly with one hand.  He nodded to Natasha as the two of you passed her, and though she raised her brows at him, she didn’t stop walking.  He found a small table in the corner of the ballroom that wasn’t as crowded as the rest of the room, and the two of you sat down with your drinks.

You were nervous at first, but he quickly put you at ease with his calm presence and interesting conversation.  He asked about your job in the Stark Labs and listened attentively as you told him about one of your new projects.  

You weren’t aware of just how much time had passed until Steve asked if he could walk you back to your cabin.  

Before you knew what you were saying, the words, “I thought I might just go to your cabin instead” slipped out, tinged with a slightly flirty tone. Your face flushed red and you immediately regretted the drinks you’d had.  “I am so sorry, I can’t believe I said that!”

Far from looking appalled, Steve was smiling.  “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

You returned his smile, though your face was still red, and said, “Well, what are we waiting for?”

When you awoke, it took a couple of seconds for you to remember where you were.  When you glanced over and noticed the man asleep next to you, his bare shoulders gleaming in the moonlight, the events of the previous night rushed back to you.  You were thankful your companion was still asleep so he wouldn’t see the red staining your cheeks.  

You hoped it was still early enough that you would be able to make it back to your cabin before anyone noticed you’d spent the night with Steve.  You stood up, pulled one of the blankets off the bed, and wrapped it around you, then went searching for your purse.  You found it and slipped your phone out. Luckily, it had enough charge left for you to see the time – 2:45 A.M. - but on the other hand, you could also see the numerous texts and missed calls from Marta wondering where you were.  

You groaned quietly and sent a quick text letting her know you were okay and would be back to the cabin soon.  Your phone buzzed almost as soon as you’d slipped it back in your bag, and you pulled it back out to see that Marta was calling.

You walked into the living room and quietly closed the bedroom door behind you, then answered Marta’s call.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?  I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m sorry!  I left the party with Steve and then I fell asleep and -”

“Steve?  Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah.”

“You slept with Captain America?”

“I didn’t say I slept with -”

“Oh, come on!  You didn’t have to say it.”

“Okay, fine.”

“So, how was it?”

You rolled your eyes.  “Maybe some other time.  I’ve got to get back to our cabin before anyone notices where I’ve been.  I don’t want to ruin Captain America’s reputation or something.”

“First of all, I don’t think you have to worry about that.  Secondly, have you looked outside lately?  Actually, don’t bother answering that. I know you’ve been too busy to take time to look outside.”

“Why would I look outside?”  You asked as you made your way to a window, still holding the blanket up with one hand while you held the phone to your ear with the other.

“Because you, my dear, are snowed in with Captain America.”

“What?” Sure enough, when you pulled the curtain aside, you could tell you wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.  

“Oh, no!”

You heard the door behind you open and Steve asked, “What’s wrong?”

You whirled around, cheeks bright red, as you tried to hitch the blanket up a little higher.  “I’m sorry I woke you up!”  You suddenly remembered Marta, then murmured into the phone, “Gotta go, I’ll call you later.”

“It’s fine.”  He waved away your concern. “Why did you say ‘oh no’?  Has something happened?”

“Oh, well, kinda.  We’re just, um, snowed in.”

He crossed the room and stood beside you as he looked out the window. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there!  Must be at least 3 feet already.”

“I’m sorry if this has made things awkward...” you trailed off as he turned from the window to look at you.

“Why would it make things awkward?”

“I just… you know, the whole world knows Captain America, and I didn’t want you to be embarrassed if it got out that you were with, um, me, because I’m not… you know...”

“You’re not what?  Not good enough for me?”

You tried smiling, but you were afraid it looked more like a grimace. “Yeah.”

“That’s not true.”  

His stern voice made butterflies erupt in your stomach even though you knew it shouldn’t have, and you willed your cheeks to return to a normal color.

“I just thought...”

His voice softened slightly.  “You just thought that since I’m an Avenger I’d only want to be with someone who had the title superhero?”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly, looking down at the blanket you were still keeping wrapped around you, embarrassed at this unexpected turn in the conversation.

“Well, I promise I don’t want to date any of the other Avengers.”

You looked up to see him smiling, and you returned it, glad that he didn’t seem angry about being snowed in with you.  “Okay.”

“And, listen, I don’t mind if people know you’ve been here all night. I’m a grown man, I don’t care what people say about me, but if you’d rather keep it quiet, I can call Tony and see if he can get this snow moved so we can get you back to your cabin relatively quietly before everyone wakes up.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.  I doubt he’d be happy about getting woken up at three in the morning just to shovel snow.”

Steve laughed.  “He’d get over it.  It’d probably teach him not to rent an entire ski lodge for his next holiday party.”

“I doubt shoveling a little snow would keep Tony Stark from planning another elaborate party.”

Steve laughed again.  “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

You shivered slightly, and Steve immediately took a step closer to you, though he stopped before he got too close.  “Sorry, you must be freezing.  Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll sleep out here on the couch?”

You blushed again.  “Don’t be silly!  I mean, you know, we’ve already… already been in bed together, so why bother sleeping on the couch now?”  

“Are you sure?”

You smiled.  “Positive.”

His own smile widened.  “Okay.”

The next morning, Steve handed you a pair of gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt he’d pulled out of his suitcase.  “I brought them to work out in, but I haven’t had a chance yet, so I promise they’re clean.”

You smiled and said, “They’re perfect, thanks.”  

He left the room as you dressed, and you quickly pulled on the clothes he’d let you borrow.  They were a little too big, but were still comfortable.  You brushed your teeth and hair, then joined Steve in the living room, where he’d lit a fire in the fireplace and set two cups of coffee on the table in front of the couch.

“I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee, so you can add whatever you like,” he told you, motioning to the tray of coffee, which was filled with a variety of sugar, milk, and sweeteners.

“Thanks.” You sat next to him on the couch, pulled a blanket over your legs, and picked up one of the cups of coffee, relishing the warmth of it before picking up a packet of sugar to add to it.  

After you finished fixing your coffee, you leaned back and pulled your feet up on the couch, then smiled at him.  “Is it still snowing?”

“Yeah, it is.  I checked the weather forecast and it’s supposed to keep snowing all day.  I talked to Tony and he’s working with the ski lodge owners to get some snowplows up here.”

“I’m in no hurry to leave.”

He smiled at your words.  “I know we said no strings at the party last night, but I was wondering if you’d like to go get dinner with me. After the snow clears up, of course.”

You smiled brightly.  “I’d love that!”

His smile widened.  “It’s a date, then.”

As the two of you spent the morning talking in front of the fireplace, you thanked your lucky stars for the snow that was still falling outside, and for the continued lack of snowplows.

[shipping-receiving]

Fictober 2019 Day 12: “What if I don’t see it?”

Rating: T | Word Count: 1343 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones Relationship: Jaime Lannister / Brienne of Tarth Tags: Alternate Universe – Office

(read on AO3)

//////

Honestly, Brienne didn’t think it would get this out of hand.

She had only said it because she wanted to shut them up. She didn’t think it was going to spread around the entire office. She didn’t think Jaime Lannister would ever hear about it.

It was just driving her insane, the way Renly, Loras, and Margaery kept going on and on and on about how hot their boss is. Jaime Lannister is beautiful. She knows this. She was born with eyes. Unfortunately, she was also born with ears. And it felt like she was hearing about it all the time.

One day, it just—happened. She said those fateful words. And she would find herself wishing, eventually, that she hadn’t been born with a mouth.

She had been working late the night before, which had caused her to oversleep, which had caused her to miss her bus to the train station, which had caused her to miss her train, which had caused her to miss the office shuttle, which had caused her to have to walk an extra fifteen minutes in the heat. And of course, when she finally arrived, covered in sweat, she had passed Jaime Lannister in the hallway, and he had given her a look. Whatever the look meant, she didn’t like it.

So the one thing she didn’t want to have to listen to while having her morning coffee in the office pantry was yet another inane conversation about Jaime Lannister’s hotness. A conversation in which she was expected to be an enthusiastic participant.

“What if I don’t see it?” she finally huffed, before taking the last sip of coffee from her mug.

Renly, Loras, and Margaery went quiet, so it did shut them up, at least. “What do you mean, Brienne?” Margaery asked, incredulously.

“I just don’t see it. He looks average to me.” And then she got up, rinsed her mug, and left the pantry.

Okay, so it hadn’t been very wise to say this when the conversation wasn’t exactly private. They hadn’t been the only four people in the pantry, and soon, everyone in the office was talking about how Brienne Tarth thinks Jaime Lannister looks average. And Brienne knew people only talked about it so much because she isn’t much to look at, and he is. He really is. She was born with eyes.

But she thought it would be fine. Jaime Lannister isn’t even their real boss, not directly. He’s the son of the owner of the corporation that employs them, and he was just supposed to spend three months in the Stormlands office. He was coming to the end of those three months, and she knew he was meant to be transferred back to the head office in King’s Landing. He’d be gone soon, and that would be the end of that.

Then, for whatever reason—some conflict within the family, apparently—that didn’t happen.

Then, Jaime Lannister heard.

Not only did he hear, he overheard it at an office party. When everyone, including him, was already quite drunk. Except Jaime Lannister was the only one who wasn’t in a celebratory mood—probably because of that conflict within the family, whatever it was.

And so he had walked up to Brienne, and Renly, and Loras, and Margaery. He had tapped Brienne on the shoulder, and said, quite bitterly:

“So, you’re the one who thinks I look average.”

All four of them just stared at him. What was Brienne supposed to say? She couldn’t tell him to his face that she thought he wasn’t good-looking. Even if he wasn’t, she wouldn’t do that to his face. She’d had enough of that herself, growing up.

But then, he sneered: “You? You think you’re a good judge of beauty?”

Oh, she knew the insults were coming. She knew Jaime Lannister was quite drunk. But Brienne was also quite drunk. So when he asked her if she had looked in the mirror lately—as if she hadn’t heard that one a thousand times before—she could feel the anger rise within her.

“Or maybe you have. What’s your name again? Bridget? Bridget the Beauty, is that what you think when you look in the mirror?”

Brienne the Beauty. He couldn’t have known, but he had stumbled upon it anyway. Maybe she wouldn’t have lost control if he hadn’t said that.

“No wonder you wouldn’t know beauty if it punched you in the face,” Jaime Lannister concluded, in all his alcohol-soaked smugness.

Next thing she knew, she had punched him. In the face.

And now she is sitting in HR, next to Jaime Lannister. Who has a black eye, which she inflicted, in front of the entire office.

She is absolutely going to lose her job in the next five minutes.

Except, if she had heard right, Jaime Lannister had just said: “I fell. She wasn’t responsible for this.”

Brienne just looks at him. She thought this only happened in cartoons, but her jaw might just have dropped in shock.

“You… fell? Mr Lannister, Ms Tarth punched you. We have witnesses.”

“Well,” he says, quite calmly. “I am the son of the man who pays all those witnesses their monthly salary. And I say that Ms Tarth wasn’t responsible for this. Drop it.”

Brienne knows she should say something. It isn’t right. She punched her boss in the face. But she just sits in stunned silence, stands up in stunned silence, leaves HR in stunned silence. It’s only when they’re both out in the hallway that she’s able to say anything.

“You—you shouldn’t have done that. I did punch you, Mr Lannister.”

“Jaime. You can call me Jaime.” As if that was the only thing to be concerned about.

“Mr Lannister.” It wouldn’t be appropriate at all to call him Jaime, would it? “I was responsible, and I should face the consequences. Why did you… lie? For me?”

Jaime Lannister sighs. “What I said, it was unworthy.”

Unworthy? Is this guy for real?

“I’m—I’m not in a good place right now,” he continues, “and I’m sorry I said those things to you. I deserved that punch.”

“No, you didn’t,” Brienne asserts. “No one does. I overreacted because—”

She can’t complete the sentence. She can’t tell him about Brienne the Beauty. He seems to understand, though, because he has a kind of conciliatory expression on his face. She supposes he can’t tell her about I’m not in a good place, too.

“I feel like I did deserve it, anyway,” Jaime Lannister says. “And I’d have felt worse if you’d lost your job, Bridget.”

“Brienne.”

“I’m sorry. Brienne.”

“Okay then.” She takes a breath for what feels like the first time in the past hour, though she doesn’t quite feel relieved. “Thank you for doing that. I can’t tell you how grateful I am. If there’s ever anything you need, Mr Lannister—”

“Jaime is fine, really,” he replies, mildly exasperated. “Mr Lannister makes me sound like my father.”

“That’s not a good thing?” Brienne asks. She’s never met Tywin Lannister, but he did build this company into the corporate empire it is today. She thought his son might enjoy the comparison.

Jaime just shrugs, cryptically. “Since you’ve given me a black eye, we’re past those formalities, aren’t we?”

“I—I suppose. But thank you, again. I’ll… I’ll see you around, I guess.”

She’s walked a few steps in the direction of her cubicle when Jaime calls her back.

“Hey, Brienne?”

She turns to see him tilting his head at her, and she’s struck by the absurd thought that he reminds her of an earnest puppy. “Yes, J-Jaime?”

“Do you really think I’m only average?”

Oh. He actually seems to care about that. She wants to explain, about the way everyone was going on about his looks, and how it was driving her mad. About oversleeping, and missing buses and trains and shuttles, and just wanting to enjoy her coffee in silence.

But all she can manage is, “N-no. I don’t.”

Jaime gives her a half-smile. “Good to know,” he says, and walks away.

[celtictrinity]

chapter 8

    “Perhaps none of you have ever been bold enough to attempt what I am doing. The mortals worship us, they beg us for guidance. Why not rule them as they clearly need to be ruled?”

    “There are too many of us and our petty squabbles could tear the world apart, you know that. That’s why the law was instituted, Crom Cruach. To protect the world from us.”

    “Then it should be no problem if only I choose to rule the mortals. The rest of you can cower behind your rules and I will rule this world. No petty squabbles to be had.”

    “That’s not the reason the law was made. You are beholden to it as we are.”

    “But you cannot stop me without breaking your precious law, can you? Or would you destroy this world you are trying to protect simply to stop me…”

                                                  * * *

    Cinda was all for setting out as soon as they could load the truck and be gone. She hadn’t known that her friend was working on a book and it hurt a little that Shara hadn’t told her. Even more than that, the subject of the book left Cinda feeling uneasy. More so with that picture of the twins, for who else could it be, published for all the world to see. But mostly she had to wonder, and it was an unwelcome thought, had Shara Rose only been her friend to gather information for this book? Because Cinda had been fairly certain her friend hadn’t known about her own parentage.

    Sam and Ben, though still somewhat stunned to see themselves in the picture in the book, had counseled they wait until Sam could read through the whole book and they knew what it actually said rather than run off half cocked based on a picture. Especially since the boys were fairly certain they had never crossed paths with Shara Rose before in the past. Which meant she’d seen them some other way.

    Cinda knew the boys were no strangers to visions. Sam especially, but even Ben had had them. More than she had. She mostly had dreams and usually not clairvoyant ones. Still she itched to be on the road and moving. She escaped out to wander the salvage yard, which was easier to bear with her thoughts than the strange house with two strangers in close quarters.

    Bobby seemed nice enough and she was glad the twins had him. Missouri made her nervous, as powerful psychics often did. She had things in her past she would prefer remained in the past and powerful psychics, often as not, didn’t keep their mouths shut about sensitive issues. Cinda supposed it was an unfair thought, being as she was a powerful fire witch and the daughter of a god (though she certainly didn’t advertise that bit) and there had been many who had been uncomfortable around her because of how powerful she was. But it didn’t change that powerful psychics made her nervous and Missouri was clearly of the ilk.

    She’d rather deal with the itching under her skin and be able to breathe the fresh air than stay stuffed in that house with people she didn’t know and a book she had to wonder about.

    As she wandered the salvage yard in the dying light of the day she wondered if maybe her suspicions were unwarranted. Shara Rose had never felt like she was fishing for information, had never seemed to be taking notes of the things Cinda mentioned, had never pushed Cinda to talk about her father. As far as Cinda knew, Shara Rose didn’t know who her father was, only that he was a god and he’d been unkind to her.

    At some point Cinda heard a car start up and leave and she wondered who had gone and why. She wasn’t ready to return though and continued to wander the huge salvage yard. There was a kind of stark, modernist beauty in the stacks of ruined cars, harder to see in the fading light now than when she and Ben had been out earlier, but there nonetheless.

    Still, she was going to have to go in soon and assuage the ache that was building at being away from the twins. She hadn’t thought of the ties she had to the twins as being restricting, and she still didn’t. If she had met Bobby and Missouri on neutral territory, she thought she might have handled it better. But this was not her home or neutral territory, this was Bobby’s home ground. She was the interloper and she felt it with the itch of iron and the weight of the number of wards about the place.

    Just as she was deciding to head back to the house, she heard footsteps coming towards her unerringly, felt Ben’s presence soothing part of the ache that was tugging her back towards the house. She stopped and stood still, waiting for him to find her.

    Coming out of the stark shadows cast by the stacks of cars in the floodlights that lit up the salvage yard, Ben was like a welcome apparition approaching. There was concern in his green-gold eyes, washed out in the night dark. He approached her slowly and Cinda wondered what he saw in her own eyes that he approached her like a wild shy animal.

    “I came to see how you were doing,” he said quietly once he was close enough. He came to a stop just within arm’s length and studied her face. “Missouri is going to stay the night in a motel in town. She had already called and made the reservation before she got here, knowing we were staying with Bobby. She says she’s sorry she chased you away.”

    Cinda gave a soft sigh of relief that the psychic wasn’t staying the night and Ben reached for her. She went into his arms and held him tightly, face pressed against his chest for a long moment, letting his presence, his nearness, settle her nerves. Enfolded in his arms this way even the itch of iron was a faint thing she was barely aware of.

    “I’m sorry I left so abruptly,” she said into his chest. “It was… too much suddenly. I just… needed to be outside and away.”

    “I know,” Ben said softly, stroking her hair and holding her close. “It’s okay. Sam and I… we get it. If we’d known Missouri was coming, we’d have warned you, but we didn’t have a clue. In your place we’d have reacted the same way. Even Bobby gets it. You don’t have to apologize, it’s okay.”

    Cinda held on to him for another long few moments, breathing in his scent, letting his presence soothe the jagged edges of uncertainty the book had opened up in her.

    “Sam would have come out with me,” Ben continued, “but he thought it would be better to read through the book as soon as he could. He should finish it tomorrow, he reads fast, and we can make plans. If you want to go see your friend, we can head out that way once we talk. But Cinda… maybe she learned things in the time you’ve been with us. We have been fairly wrapped up in ourselves for months and understandably so. Or maybe it was a project she had been working on and wasn’t sure how to tell you. From what you told us, Shara Rose sounds like she really cares about you and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Sam looked through the rest of the illustrations and there’s none of you in there. So, we both think she maybe got visions when she was painting. She might not even know that real people were the inspiration of her paintings.”

    Cinda sighed into Ben’s chest before turning he head, resting her ears against his chest but not releasing him just yet.

    “I ken, it’s just a shock, it was.” Her accent had deepened, as it often did in the throes of strong emotion. “I can’t believe she would do something to harm anyone. But… she’s the only friend I’ve ever had, you ken? I’m far more used to not trusting people.”

    “You trusted us,” Ben said softly.

    Cinda smiled and looked up at him. “That was a wee bit different, leannan. We’ve soul ties, we knew each other in the moment we saw each other like we knew our own selves. There was nothing to distrust. I had been waiting for you all my life.”

    Ben smiled back down at her, cupping her face, his smile turning wondering and awed. Eight months wasn’t long enough for the awe that they’d actually found each other to have worn off. He bent down to brush a soft kiss over her forehead, then another soft kiss to her lips that she pressed back into, going onto tiptoe. Hating the difference in their height even as she let the sweet shock of the kiss wash over her.

    Ben finally pulled back. “We should head back in. You didn’t eat anything and you should. And Sam will be glad to see you smile rather than look distressed.”

    Cinda sighed before pulling away, catching his hand and turning back towards Bobby’s house. “I dinna think Sam will find anything we’re looking for in that book he’s reading. And we came here with a purpose. I dinna want to derail that with my distress.”

    Ben started walking, holding her hand firmly. “You haven’t derailed anything. Sam had already figured we might not find what we were looking for in Bobby’s library. Bobby has a lot of books, it’s true, but not many of them have to do with gods in truth and Sam has a wicked memory. Once he looked through the new books Bobby had gotten since the last time we were here, it was just a matter of finding the few books that dealt with gods and skimming through them. Sam’s read most everything Bobby owns. He can be scary sometimes, with how he can pull a passage from a certain obscure book straight from memory and recite it almost word for word.”

    Cinda noticed that Ben sounded fond and proud again as he talked about his twin. It made her smile. Ben could easily have been jealous of his twin and she didn’t doubt that he had moments of it, but mostly the twins seemed to truly be proud of each other for their talents and triumphs. They rarely fought and when they did it caused almost as much distress as being separated. And there was never any resentment in either of them over it. Cinda didn’t think most siblings were so close and she wondered if their soul bond had something to do with it.

    Then what Ben said finally registered and she came to a stop. Ben also stopped and glanced at her with an eyebrow lifted in question.

    “Ben… if Sam can do that… we didne actually have to come here, did we?” Cinda asked the question, puzzled, with a small frown.

    Ben gave her a warm smile and tugged her back into motion. “Only if he’s tagged the passage. Usually he keeps in mind what the general subject is and certain key passages unless he’s looking for something specific. He would have tagged which books were about gods but not truly committed any of the specific passages to memory before now. We didn’t know that we would need them. So yeah, he’d still have to read them again to know for sure what they said, it just makes it easier for him to find the books he needs instead of going through the whole of Bobby’s library.”

    Cinda blinked in surprise, feeling a little awed herself. She hadn’t thought that Sam had that kind of memory going for him. To be fair, the library of books they had at their place was fairly small and far more easily looked through compared to the number of books Cinda had seen at Bobby’s place.

    By the time they reached Bobby’s porch, Cinda finally shook her head with a bemused smile. “He’s something else, our Sam is.”

    “Yeah, yeah he is,” Ben said softly before leading her into the house.

                                                * * *

     The gods used to spend a fair amount of time in the mortal world. Incarnated into a form of mortal flesh that could withstand their godly powers. The mortals were at times fascinating creatures to observe and interact with. Some gods found them more fascinating than others while some often saw them as a plague upon the world.

    Whatever their personal views, there were often children of gods wandering about. Many became the heroes of which stories were written. They often had tragic ends. The children of the gods who chose to embark on heroic quests rarely lived as long as their brethren who lived quieter lives and only focused on enhancing the lives of the villages they lived within. Those who chose to live quietly lived much longer indeed, the blood of their godly parent often lengthening their lives three to four times that of the usual mortal.

    When the gods chose to withdraw from the world to protect it and the mortals that lived in it, not all were as willing to give up their hold as others. Some had to be forced to leave, for they found their sway over the mortals a sweet thing they were unwilling to give up. The gods however weren’t disallowing worship, the mortals would do as they would. They simply felt that their physical presence in the world was too dangerous a thing for it. They could still speak to their chosen prophets, could still send visions and dreams. Could still incarnate as mortal if they so chose, to walk among them, but they would leave the greater share of their power behind until their mortal life ended and they ascended back to their godly forms.

    Some gods argued that they couldn’t do their duties if they couldn’t take corporeal form in the world. But they found that the world turned whether they were there to personally usher in certain events or not, and that they could still enhance those changes in their non corporeal forms. It meant that the number of children born to the gods lessened exponentially but the mortals seemed to settle into that as well, coming up with their own explanations for why the gods no longer walked among them.

    A few gods, incarnated into human form and knowing who they truly were, attempted to subvert the law. But a god in human form has limited power, even one that gains worshippers to strengthen them. Crom Cruach was the one who found that there was power to be gained if one could breach the underways and reach into the Otherworld. It was not an easy thing to do for a god, who though wearing human form was not truly of the world. But humans with power could do so much easier. The trick was finding humans with enough power to do what was needed.

    Crom Cruach suspected that having a child with a human with power would give him a firmer foothold in the world than simply gathering humans with power, who often died when they breached the underways, unable to withstand channeling the power from the Otherworld to their lord and Master. But a child of his, born of a human with power… perhaps that would work.

    He set about attempting to father children on women with power. Most were useless to him, not inheriting power from him or their mother and Crom Cruach despaired of ever having the perfect child. Until he fathered a daughter on a young witch. A powerful child she was and would have been the perfect tool if her mother had truly been a follower of his. She was not, however, and took the child away to hide her.

    Crom Cruach also learned that by this time, the other gods had caught on to what he was trying to do and had chosen to send another god to do the same, to sire a child that would be powerful enough to stop him. He left off the search for his own daughter and instead sought out the incarnated deity and child meant to be a hindrance to him and his. It was a calculated risk, allowing the child of his to be reared by a woman who was not his follower and dared to defy him, but he didn’t think it would take much time to find and destroy the child born to stop him and then he could retrieve his own daughter and teach her the way of things.

    The encounter did not go as planned, for though he killed the goddess’s incarnated form he had been too weakened by the fight to kill the children, for there were two, twin borns, a rarity among mortals. He was forced to hide away until he could regain his strength and power, leaving the two boys in the world. He cursed his fortune for days. His own child spirited away, the two meant to stand against him still alive and well. His plans would have to be placed on hold as he regained his strength, for it was harder now to find humans of power willing to work with him as knowledge that those who followed him often died in the end, hard deaths full of pain as they were burned from the inside out by the power that was too strong for them to control.

    It took a long time for him to regain even some of his strength, though even he felt the wash of power that filled the world when the three god-born children found each other and pledged themselves to one another. Because of the pledge he also felt their deaths and cursed his misfortune. He would have to start again. But if he’d read the wash of power correctly the three were so bound to themselves and the world and their purpose that it would only be a matter of time until the powerful daughter he’d sired walked the world again.

    He would just have to be more careful about the witch he sired her on this time.

                                                * * *

     By midafternoon of the next day, Sam had finished the book and they all gathered in Bobby’s living room. Cinda was leaning against Sam’s side this time, more at ease than the last time they’d all gathered there. She had figured out that Bobby wasn’t holding her father’s actions against her, for which she was eternally grateful. She wasn’t sure she didn’t hold her father’s actions against her. He was, after all, her blood. She’d feared all her life, despite the favor of two goddesses who seemed to love her despite her very human side, that one day she would become what he’d tried to make of her.

    “There isn’t anything in the book, as it is, that will help us,” Sam started, rubbing Cinda’s shoulders, “though it’s an interesting read and I’m glad Missouri brought it to us. But I’m going to guess that the books Shara used for her research might possibly have something that will help us.”

    “Shara Rose,” Cinda corrected quietly. “She never goes by Shara alone. She’s always, as long as I’ve known her, gone by Shara Rose.”

    Sam nodded. “Shara Rose, then. What’s more… Cinda I think she was trying to get you to come and see her.”

    Cinda blinked in surprise and gazed at him. “What makes you say that?”

    Sam shrugged a shoulder. “For anyone who doesn’t know you, I doubt they’d pick up the same things. But there’s also power in the pages of the book. It’s subtle and I doubt completely unintentional. Being bound to you, Ben and I feel it more than anyone else would have, or even could have. It’s a subtle plea to come to her. Nothing that forces you to do so, mind. More like a request. And again, I doubt anyone other than me and Ben would feel the request in the power in the pages. If you held the book and started reading it, I bet it would be clearer to you, since it’s meant for you.”

    Cinda looked astonished. She hadn’t ever given thought to putting magic in the pages of a book, although she’d heard of it being done. It was why some books had to be treated with care. Still she hadn’t thought Shara Rose would resort to doing such-

    Cinda smacked herself in the forehead and looked chagrined. “I didne let her ken I got a new phone. She does nae have my number and I never did save hers. She’s no way to contact me.” She sounded as chagrined as she looked, gazing at the book on the table that Sam had already read through.

    “She couldne have been working on this only since I’ve been with you. It takes longer than that to publish a book.” Although considering her irregular visits, maybe Shara Rose thought it was a chance she was willing to take. After all, the book did end up in her hands, so to speak.

    Sam shrugged. “I have no idea how long it takes a book to go from editor to publisher, but I suspect she’s been working on this for a couple of years. It’s partially historical, partially personal and really well written. Your friend is very talented, not just with the art.”

    Cinda reached out slowly and picked up the book, turning it to the page Missouri had directed them to yesterday. She gazed at the picture there, glanced up and studied the boys for a long moment before looking back to the picture. “I recognized her style immediately. I’ve been watching her paint for years now. But something… something in this one is different than her usual. Though she captured your essence well for someone who’s never seen you before.”

    Sam nodded. “It’s only clear to you and us and Missouri that this picture is us because you know us and we know ourselves. I don’t think most people would realize it’s us.”

    Bobby spoke up. “It’s not near as obvious to me,” he said. “I can kind of see it, a little, but not as clearly or as firmly as all of you seem to be able to.”

    Cinda ran her fingers lightly over the picture as Sam said, “Because you can’t see or feel the power that flows around us. Even Ben and I don’t see it this clearly, only in brief moments. But we feel it and looking at that picture we can both feel the currents that surround us.”

    “I can see it,” Cinda said softly. She lifted her head to look at Sam and Ben. “I can see the power around you both when I focus, just as in the picture here. I ken Shara Rose can as well. It’s part of why we teamed up the first time we met each over. Because she could see the power around things in the world.”

   “What does that have to do with the book, though?” Bobby sounded impatient and Cinda broke off her gaze, looking down at the pages and focusing on the words. She could feel the power in the book, same as the boys could, but she hadn’t actually tried to read the book. She’d looked at the one picture and the dust jacket. As Sam started to talk, she flipped to the first page and started to read the words.

    “Not much, really,” Sam said with a quirked smile. “It’s just an interesting something. No, the important thing is that however long Shara Rose has been working on this book, she did weave a powerful but subtle message to Cinda within the pages of it. Within the words themseleves so that even when it went to print the power would still be there. Most people will feel the power, like Missouri did, and it would draw them to the book, likely prompt their interest enough to buy it. But the point was- “

    “I feel it now,” Cinda said, interrupting him. She looked up, her fingers on the page, eyes startled. “She must truly wish me to come to see her. I canna believe she’d have done this for any other reason. She wants me to come to see her and it’s important that I do so.”

    Sam nodded. “I felt the edges of it, likely because we’re soul bound. It was clear to me that it was for you, though it was faint, like a whisper against the wind.”

   Cinda huffed as she closed the book. “Is nae a whisper to me,” she said. “Is quite clear.” She looked troubled, though. Why would her friend go through such trouble just to get her to come to see her? She’d never done such in all the years they’d known each other. Maybe… maybe she knew she’d found something Cinda needed to know?

    She looked up as she felt Sam’s hand on her arm, met his amber and green eyes. “Cinda… there’s nothing in this book about you or your father. She wasn’t… your friend just to pump you for information. In fact, … she tells about learning of her own parentage. I think she wanted you to know but didn’t know how to tell you. I don’t think you misjudged her at all and I think you’re right, we do need to go and see her.”

    Cinda felt the sudden release of tension she hadn’t been aware she was holding and gave Sam a wobbly smile, thankful he understood.

    Bobby gazed at the three of them and shook his head. “Just… keep me appraised. If you’re going to fight a god, I know there’s not much I can do to help but I’d like to know how you all are doing. I’d like you to stay on this side of the veil if that’s possible.” There was a fair amount of emotion in Bobby’s voice and as Cinda glanced at him she realized the grizzled older man looked at the twins as his own boys. He loved them as if they were his own and he was willing to do anything he could to help them.

    “I’ll make sure they come back safe and sound, sir,” Cinda said softly but firmly.

    Bobby looked at her, a measuring look before he said, “No sirs in my own house. Bobby is fine. And I wanna see you all back and in one piece, you hear me?”

    Cinda swallowed and felt her eyes water unaccountably. She nodded before ducking her head, feeling Sam’s arm squeeze her in a sideways hug. She understood what the older man was saying without coming right out and saying it. He approved of her. Another knot of tension loosened and she took a shuddery breath.

    She’d hoped for his approval but hadn’t realized how much it would mean to her. She was glad she had it. Now if she could just manage to keep her twins in one piece and get them through this. Shara Rose was just one more stop on the way to an inevitable meeting with her father she wasn’t looking forward to. But she wasn’t a scared child anymore. She’d grown into her power and she had the twins’ love and support. They were a team of three. She wasn’t alone anymore. They could do this.

    She prayed they could do this.

[cryysiswritesthings]

No Shelter But Me || Chapter One

Fandom: Inuyasha Rating: Mature/NC-17 Warnings: Psychological Torture, Rape, Parent/Child Incest, Obsession, Drugged Sex, Sexual Assault, Abuse, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Love/Hate, Forced Orgasm, Forced Relationship Status: In Progress Pairing(s): BanKag (main), Oni(gumo)Kag Summary: Memory is often riddled with pain. A non-sequential series of timestamps that take place during Kagome’s life at the casle.

Find it On: Tumblr | AO3

Series: Flowers Grown in Darkness Desecrate You

Chapters on Tumblr:  Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 ||

Tumblr Tags: #bankag #onikag #inuyasha #no shelter but me #nsbm chapter #flowers desecrate series

The peasant market was only half full, but this was nothing new. There had been a slow decline of people who called the town’s castle home.

Still, their lives and wares were a welcome distraction from her life in the castle.

Bankotsu walked ahead of her now, playing escort. They’d made idle chit-chat throughout the day, but nothing substantial. He knew what these little walks did for her. It was why he tried to be available to her on days like this. With his lordship requesting Mukotsu be his guard for the day, Bankotsu had once again gotten his way. Her father often changed who his primary guard was for the day, for no reason that made sense. What could he have to fear in his own castle?

He stopped a few feet ahead of her, picking up a trinket from one of the stalls. She couldn’t see what it was, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t here to buy anything, just as a temporary escape.

“You know, I’ve always wondered,” Bankotsu called suddenly, turning the small thing over in his hand. “Who are you more afraid of? Your father, or me?”

The question brought her up short. What could have prompted such a thing? And what would he do when he didn’t like her answer?

Noticing her quiet, Bankotsu returned the item to the merchants table and came up beside her. “Sparrow?”

“Why would you ask such a thing?” Her voice was only just loud enough for him to hear, arms coming up to hug herself tightly. “Besides, I should think the answer was obvious. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Her escort rolled his eyes. “I’m bored. Humor me.”

She glanced up to him, her storm blue eyes holding his. Did he really not know? How could he not see?

Bankotsu’s gaze sharpened as he read the look on her face. She’d never been able to hide her emotions from him.

It took only a moment to find a place that suited his needs. He grabbed her by the shoulder and dragged her to a small alleyway. There was no one in sight, and a stack of boxes kept them out of sight.

Perfect.

“Bankotsu, are you mad? You can’t do this, not here!” Kagome tried to free herself from his grip, but it only made him tighten his hold. Her eyes were wide and panicked, and normally he would have taken advantage of the privacy afforded them. But he wanted answers, and her panic wouldn’t give them to him.

“I asked you a question, Lady,” he said sternly. “I expect an answer.”

She calmed, but only some. Still, she bit her lip and looked away.

Frustrated with her silence, he shook her hard, not understanding his sudden bout of rage and urgency. “Tell me.”

“I don’t want to say,” she whispered. “It will only upset you.”

“If you were worried about upsetting me,” his grip tightened painfully, “you’d have saved yourself the trouble and lied to me.”

No she wouldn’t. She’d never lied to him. He had a gift for seeing right through her.

She studied him, trying to see how angry he’d be. What would make him angry. But there was only one way to really know.

“Him,” she said finally, shuttering her eyes. “Of the two of you… He is who I fear more.”

Her answer shocked him into easing his grip on her. That… That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. Not at all.

“What makes him so much more terrifying than me?”

Wincing at the question, she wet her lips and tried to gather her thoughts. How was she supposed to come up with an answer that was enough truth without telling him everything? Not just to avoid whatever rage he’d carry for her admittance, but also… to avoid confronting her own dark truths.

“You…” she started, and had to take a moment, trying again. “You frighten me, Bankotsu. You know this. You always have. But…” Gods, what could she say? How could she explain?

What could she tell him that wouldn’t make him think she was crazy?

“You frighten me,” she said again, “but you’ve never… you’ve never hurt me. Not really. I mean… you have , but not…” Gods, this wasn’t coming out right. “That isn't to say I like what happens when you touch me, I don’t, you just…” she didn’t know how to say it. Bankotsu’s delusions of love were something she’d had years to get used to. She’d found her own way to deal with the things he did to her. But her father...

She shuddered.

The guard in front of her did something unexpected then. He loosened his hold, and then…

He pulled her into his arms. Like he was protecting her.

She stood there, frozen and unsure. He’d never held her like this before. Like he was shielding her. To give in to this would only make things worse, she knew. To let him think she accepted it. And yet…

And yet.

With the knowledge that she was all but breathing in poison air, Kagome allowed herself to relax against him. To lean into his embrace. For a moment, just a moment, she let herself pretend she loved him. It made her confession easier.

“I would rather spend a lifetime trapped alone in a cage with you, than spend a month's worth of days and nights alone with him.”

His silence was expected, but still it worried her. She hid her face against his chest, forcing herself to explain further. “You’ve put hands on me, Bankotsu, but he frightens me in ways that make your lusts feel like a sweet summer wind.”

The guard tensed against her, jaw tightening in anger. He had plans to deal with the old man, but it seemed he’d have to enact them sooner than he’d wanted too. Still, for her, it was worth it.

“If you ask it of me, I’ll kill him.”

Kagome looked up to him, stunned. There was no hesitation in his eyes.

“Give the word, and I’ll end his life.”

“Have you lost your mind?!” She hissed. “That’s not just heresy, it’s treason! If anyone heard you you’d hang!”

Bankotsu scoffed. “No one here is strong enough to overcome me. Least of all him.” He cupped her cheek, staring her in the eye. Needing her to understand. “Ask me, Kagome. Ask me, and I’ll ensure he never hurts you again.”

Gods, he was serious. He would actually kill the man who’d all but raised him. The man who turned him into who he was today.

“Bankotsu, he’s my father. No matter how much I hate him, I could never wish for such a thing.” She needed him to understand. Bankotsu was… there was no word in any language that could explain their relationship. He was her main tormentor, the man who’d ruined her for everything. Because of him, she would never be truly happy.

But aside from her father, he was the only constant thing she’d ever known. No one, not a soul in the entire world had ever shown her as much attention as he did.

“It doesn’t matter who he is, sparrow,” he murmured softly, laying their foreheads together. “I’ll kill him for you.” He pressed a kiss against the line of her hair. “I’ve done a lot of things to you. And if I have my way, I’ll do countless more.” When he looked at her again, his eyes were hard. “But I am the only one allowed to hurt you. I’m the only one who gets to taste your fear.”

His thumb traced her lip, and Kagome took in the conviction of the man who stood before her.

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

There was a clatter of noise at the entrance of the alley, and she yanked him closer to her as her back hit the wall, hiding them from view.

They waited, her heart pounding with adrenaline and his a steady pulse. Their eyes caught, and suddenly she wasn’t just afraid, she was determined. He couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t let him.

“This conversation never happened,” Kagome said sternly, trying to appear commanding. “If you tell anyone what I said, I’ll deny every word.”

He took a long moment to answer her, and there was a strange queerness in his eye. When he spoke, it wasn’t until after he’d put space between them and bowed to her. “As my Lady commands.”

Though surprised at his agreement, for now she was satisfied. He turned from her and led them from the alley, starting them back for the castle. He knew she was following him. He did the same, when not in the company of her father.

This was not the time to get emotional. Intentionally or not, Kagome had opened up a whole new world of problems to ponder over. Knowing Bankotsu, he’d end up keeping a closer eye on the interactions between the father and daughter. She’d have to be careful. Try to minimize her responses to the fear Onigumo incurred in her. Otherwise that stupid guard would do something drastic and end up getting himself killed.

The thought chilled her.

Without him, there really would be no one to protect her.

[freddiesaysalright]

My Man

A BenHardy!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic Part I

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She meets Roger Taylor when he brings his date backstage.

Word Count: 2.7k 

Tag List: @bohemian-war (Thanks for beta reading!) If you’d like to be added, let me know! 

Also, I apologize! Somehow the original post got deleted! I’m re-doing it now and hopefully Tumblr won’t be stupid. 

Here’s Part I again!

You ran your brush through your hair just once more. The wig cap always left it flat but frizzy in a way that you had to carefully tame it before twisting it up into your usual bun. You swept your bangs behind your ear and then heard a knock at the door.

“Y/N, ma’am?” the security guard called from the other side. “The VIP guests are here.”

You sighed. Your director told you there was going to be a “special guest” at the show tonight who would be visiting the dressing rooms with their date. He didn’t say who it was, only that “you’ll know him when you see him.”

“Show them in,” you said, getting to your feet and facing the door.

The security guard pushed it open and you sucked in a quiet breath. The last person you ever thought would come to Funny Girl on West End was Roger Taylor, drummer for Queen. You didn’t recognize his date, though. When you saw his expression, you narrowed your eyes. He was clearly bored. He looked at your dressing room the way school children looked at a history museum.

“You did wonderful tonight!” the date squealed, breaking your thoughts. “I’m such a fan! I’m Jackie,” she added, offering her hand.

You smiled warmly as you shook it. “Y/N Y/L/N,” you said. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

“It was amazing,” Jackie insisted. “Wasn’t it, Rog?”

At last he looked at you. Something shifted in his eyes as you met his gaze. You knew that look. Men like him had been looking at you like that since you were fourteen.

“Yeah, it was brilliant,” he said with disinterest. “You’ve got a helluva voice.”

“Thank you,” you returned. “And you are?”

He blinked in surprise. You held back a smirk as you watched him struggle with not being recognized. You certainly had his attention now.

“You don’t know?” Jackie questioned with a gasp. “This is Roger Taylor!”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that name,” you lied. “What do you do, Mr. Taylor, that makes you a name I should know?”

“I’m a musician,” he said, irritation furrowing his brow. “In a band. Queen, actually.”

“You must have heard of Queen,” Jackie pressed.

You shook your head and smiled innocently. “I haven’t.”

“We’re on the radio,” he said, almost incredulous.

“They’ve been on television too,” Jackie added.

“I must have missed you,” you said with a shrug. “Although I’m sure you’re very talented.”

You knew you were being condescending but you couldn’t stop. His attitude and his looking had rubbed you completely the wrong way and you wanted to punish him for it. He glared and you and you tried not to look smug.

“They’re great,” Jackie said, oblivious to the growing tension. “I mean, they can’t do what you just did, but they’re a great band.”

He glowered at her and you turned away so he wouldn’t see you laugh.

“Right, we’ll be going now,” he spat, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.

“It was wonderful to meet you!” she called, and you waved, before Roger slammed the door behind them.

“Thank God that’s over,” you huffed, returning to your seat in front of your mirror.

You carefully opened the vanity drawer and retrieved your two most cherished items - your wedding ring, which you slipped onto your finger, and the wallet-sized picture of your husband, George. You always thought he looked so handsome in his uniform. The eagle, globe, and anchor of the US Marine Corps suited him so well. You ran a shaky finger across the portrait and felt your heart ache.

“I met your idol tonight,” you said softly as your throat got tight. “I was kind of a bitch to him, too.” You let out a small laugh. “I wish you could have seen it.”

You gazed at his frozen smile and wiped a tear threatening to leak from your eye. Finally you stood and retrieved your coat. You slid the photo in your pocket. Donning your performance smile, you left and headed for the stage door to sign programs and greet the audience. Your show was not quite over yet.

*****  

The incident of Roger Taylor had bothered you for a few days. You wondered if you were being needlessly petty, but you quickly dismissed the idea. If he hadn’t acted the way he did, you wouldn’t have felt so defensive. Just when you were starting to forget about it, it happened again. Only this time, you had no warning until moments before he entered your dressing room. He seemed in a hurry.

“Well, Mr. Taylor, I can’t say I was expecting - ” you began, but he cut you off.

“Listen,” he said. “I need you to pretend last week never happened.”

“Why?” you demanded.

“I don’t need this date to know I had another date here,” he explained. “Trying to be romantic and all that. I did not realize musicals made women so...willing.”

You frowned at him. “Why on Earth should I do this for you?”

He shrugged. “Just to do a guy a solid? Sure, last time, you kind of pissed me off, but I got a great shag.”

“Mr. Taylor, I want you to know that as of now there is no one in the world who has a lower opinion of you than I do.”

“I can live with that,” he returned, smirking. “The feeling’s mutual since you’ve got no taste in music.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You don’t even know who Queen is!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “I didn’t realize Queen was the pinnacle of musical achievement! How silly of me! What is Mozart or Irving Berlin compared to the likes of Queen?! After all, they’ve been on television!”

“There’s no need to have a go at Jackie, she’s a sweet girl,” he said, laughter spreading across his lips.

“Not sweet enough to have for more than one night, apparently,” you spat. “I can’t believe you’re not taking these dates seriously. A West End ticket is a rather expensive way to just get laid.”

“It’s worth every penny,” he said.

You opened your mouth to retort, but an interruption appeared in the shape of a woman who must have been his date.

“Sorry!” she cried. “I got lost on the way back from the loo.”

“No worries,” Roger assured her. “Donna, this is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Donna took your hand before you could offer it and shook it with such enthusiasm you nearly lost your balance.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” you said kindly. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Oh, yes!” she sighed. “You sang so beautifully. Especially ‘My Man.’”

You looked down and smoothed your skirt. “It is a very emotional song.”

“How do you manage it?” she asked.

You smiled at her. “It’s a simple trick, really. I sing it to my husband.”

“You’re married?” Roger asked, genuinely stunned.

“I am, Mr. Taylor,” you said and felt the hot tears pricking your eyes. “I see that shocks you.”

“It does, a bit, yeah,” he admitted.

“Is he here?” she wondered.

You shook your head and blinked back the emotions. “Not tonight, I’m afraid.” You waited a beat and then took a deep breath. “Would you like me to sign your program?”

“If you don’t mind!” she accepted, and handed it to you gratefully.

You scribbled your name across the front and returned it to her.

“Thank you for coming,” you said.

“Thank you for the private meet and greet,” she replied.

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” Roger asked her. “She’s only got a few minutes before she’s got to be at the stage door.”

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Donna agreed. “Thanks again!” she said to you.

“Absolutely, Jackie,” you said, shooting a glance at Roger. “Oh, pardon me, Donna. So sorry.”

If looks could kill, Roger’s glare would have made you drop dead.

“No worries,” Donna said politely. “I know you meet loads of people.”

“You’re very kind,” you said. “Have a lovely rest of your evening, you two.”

She said one last goodbye, and Roger said nothing before storming out of your dressing room once again. You snickered, hoping you’d finally seen the last of him.

*****

The following week, you were just finishing your nightly talk with George when your director barged into your dressing room. You placed your picture on the vanity and whipped around.

“Gary, what the hell?!” you cried.

“It’s not just Roger Taylor tonight,” he said, breathless. “It’s the whole band! They want to meet you!”

You gaped at him. “Wh-but I don’t have time! What about everyone waiting outside?”

“Y/N, it’s Queen,” he insisted. “You go out the stage door with them, this show will get more publicity than we could even hope for. Especially if they liked it!”

“Funny Girl doesn’t need the approval of a stupid rock band,” you said.

“I do hope that stupid rock band you’re referring to isn’t Queen, darling,” came a voice from the doorway. Its source was none other than Freddie Mercury. He was trailed by Roger, Brian May, and John Deacon.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks in shame. “I didn’t mean - ”

“Don’t take it personal, Fred,” Roger interrupted. “She hasn’t even heard our music.”

“Now that I do take personally,” Freddie teased, looking at you. “Why not?”

“It’s just not really my style,” you explained sheepishly.

It was one thing to lie to Roger to embarrass him in front of a date. It was another to say those things to Freddie Mercury, a person whose respect you’d like to have. You squirmed a little with discomfort.

You made proper introductions at last and they all complimented your performance. You told them how grateful you were for their attendance. Really, they were all very kind, but throughout the meeting, you felt Roger’s eyes on you. It took a lot of your resolve not to stare back and demand what he wanted from you.

“Well, darling, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Freddie said, looking at the clock. “But Roger just wouldn’t shut up about you, so we had to see what all the fuss was about.”

Brian and John chuckled as Roger looked away. The color drained from your face and you pretended to be suddenly interested in your nails.

“Would you like an escort to the stage door?” Brian asked.

“She’d love it,” Gary interjected before you could speak.

You shot him a glare, but complied. Then you noticed Gary and Freddie making hungry eyes at one another. You reached for your coat but Roger beat you to it.

“Allow me,” he offered, opening it for you to slide your arms in.

“Thanks,” you said stiffly as you shrugged it on with his assistance.

You turned back to grab George’s photo. After placing it in your usual pocket, you allowed the band to lead the way out the door.

“Oh, by the way,” Freddie said as you walked. “I’m having a fabulous party at my place tomorrow night. You simply must come, Y/N.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” you returned.

“She’s a married woman, Fred,” said Roger.

“So what?” Freddie returned. “Bring him along if you like.”

You didn’t answer. How you wished you could bring George. You wanted it so bad your chest tightened.

When you emerged from the stage door, all thoughts of your husband were erased by the onslaught of flashing lights and shouts of excitement.

“Is that Queen?!” “Oh my God!” “We love you, Freddie!” and more all blurred together in an amount of noise that could have knocked you off your feet.

A reporter you were familiar with caught your eye and you walked over. She was beaming as she kept looking past you at the band.

“Y/N, you know Queen?” she wondered.

“Not well,” you replied, yelling over the din. “We just met tonight actually! They liked the show!”

Freddie appeared seemingly out of thin air and spoke to the reporter.

“This girl is bloody brilliant, darling, and you may quote me on that,” he said with a cheeky grin. “One of the best on West End, and she’s not even English!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. He was infectiously charming. He kissed your hand before going to sign some autographs. A crowd began to form around the building as onlookers noticed who was there. The small crowd was becoming a swarm. Your heart rate picked up at the sight. You bid your reporter friend goodbye and started down the street. You slipped away unnoticed by the Queen fans.

Four or five people followed behind you. When you faced them, you saw they were people who had come to your show for you. You sighed with relief and approached them.

“Sorry,” you said as you signed the programs. “I don’t make a habit of running off, but it’s not about Funny Girl over there anymore, huh?”

They agreed and thanked you for stopping to talk to them. You loved your theater community. The masses of rock fans could never be your life. As you made your way back to your flat, the noise of the Queen frenzy dying behind you, you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N! Wait up!”

You turned and saw it was Roger.

“Mr. Taylor,” you said. “I’m surprised you made it out alive. Have your bandmates been devoured?”

“They’re big boys, they can handle it,” he replied, smiling. “Hope you’re not offended by the crowd. But you see now why I was surprised you didn’t know me - I mean, us.”

“Was that what all this was? To prove to me how popular you are?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. So, how come you were so much nicer with my friends around?”

You took a moment before you answered. With a wicked grin, you met his eyes. “Well, they’re just all so good looking, it would be impossible to be rude.”

He snorted. “Oh! I see how it is!”

“I hope you do,” you said with a laugh. “The truth is, you’re a lot nicer with your friends around, too.”

“Let me walk you home,” he offered. “As a truce.”

“If I say yes, will you stop bringing your dates to my dressing room?”

“I promise.”

“Very well, Mr. Taylor. You may walk me home.”

As you walked beside him, you felt a new easiness. Perhaps there was more to him than the womanizer you met before. Perhaps that was the show he put on.

[joj-parisol]

The Monroes (John Lennon x Reader)

Summary: The Monroes are the only female band on the set list. Y/N likes Rory Storm and the Hurricanes and definitely does not like The Quarrymen. Especially not John Lennon. (shit summary I know)

Warnings: Panic attacks and vomiting (sorry) shitty writing bc I didn’t check this oof

A/N: hi sorry if it’s terrible but I’ve been coming back to this fic for about a week save me. Anyway. The panic attack is written through personal experience and I’m very sorry if it offends anyone so please don’t read of you might get triggered. I hope everyone who reads this enjoys! Imma go ahead and tag one of the best writers on this cursed site, the lovely @casafrass also that anon lol. -🥦

Get ready for some Teddy Boy John, bitches.

—————

The music courses through her veins every night. It became ritual that she would blast her solos. She had put her blood, sweat and tears into the songs they performed and Eliza put her heart and soul into singing them.

The rhythm of their own songs guided Y/N’s hips, accidentally thrusting her guitar towards the audience, earning a roar of delight. The audience was packed in every direction she looked. People were curved into archways and crowded every doorway or other persons lap. Some stood, resembling sardines in the way they were packed in with each other. They were unable to dance but they tapped their feet or swayed to the beat. It was the same every night.

Nobody could resist The Monroes. They, like their namesake, were each irresistibly beautiful. This made them exceptionally popular with their male audience. Their music was like a spell, enchanting anyone who heard it to hum, dance or sing. People were captivated by the girls, with their camp and flamboyant stage presence paired with their raunchy costumes. They were the only all-Female band and it made them popular among the younger generation of early feminists and the men who liked their ‘appeal’.

They had a friendly competition put in place with Rory Storm and his Hurricanes. They rivalled in their shock-value and Y/N once made a deal with Ringo to see who could get the most dates. Y/N has since refused to answer who won. Rory and Eliza took the competition a little too seriously. Everyday, a costume would be more dramatic or ‘dazzling’ or a new song would feature a longer high note. They had to one-up each other.

This rivalry grew tension and one night after a few complimentary drinks, Rory and Eliza stumbled out of the bar, eagerto rip the costumes off of the other. They both denied the accusations but The Monroes were staying in an old strip club and thin walls reveal all.

Though they tried, none of the Hurricanes could woo any other Monroes. Y/N loved Ringo and it was returned, in nothing more than a platonic way. The other two Monroes weren’t inclined to any Hurricane, platonically or romantically. Lucy, the drummer, only cared for the music, strippers and free booze and the bassist, Shirley, had her eyes on one of the Quarrymen.

Out of everyone in the world, she liked one of the awful, cocky assholes who played before The Monroes did. Every time they clunked off of stage, clad in leather, Y/N always felt the urge to throw something. But it was specifically John Lennon. He would stomp over in his flame patterned cowboy boots with a smug grin painted on his face.

“Try and beat that, sugar.” He would smirk at Y/N. Always her, never one of the others. He would often try to brush the hair from her face but with a sharp turn, Y/N would strut past him. He would whistle as she walked, grovelling on about how perfect her ass was. He would then slither his way over to her later that night when she’d be drinking her wages.

Y/N would chew up his lewd comments and spit them straight back in his face. Her quick wit and sharp tongue only enticed him further, much to her dismay.

Like every other day, The Quarrymen finished droning out a song about ‘Spiting all the danger’ or something, Y/N wasn’t really listening, and John sauntered off stage. His band mates poured backstage after him.

Y/N knew Paul, he was quite charming and had his eyes set on every girl that looked into his. Then there was Stu, a rather handsome man who seemed quite shy as she hadn’t ever seen him talk to anyone outside of The Quarrymen. George was the loveliest out of all five of them, he smiled at each of the girls and complimented Y/N on her solos. He shyly offered to but them drinks but he would then get bombarded with beers for being so cute. He was young and polite, with one hell of a talent for guitar. Y/N didn’t really know Pete. She just knew that once he had made fun of Lucy’s drumming talent and had received a black eye because of it.

They were headed for the bar after coming off os the stage, but when John trailed towards The Monroes, they all followed like obedient dogs. Eliza was mid way through her nightly pep-talk.

“And no matter what, I know we’ll all smash it-“

“I hear the shows aren’t the only thing you’re smashing, eh Liza? How is Rory by the way?” John interrupted, earning sniggers from his leather-clad cronies. Eliza flushed and spluttered, looking for the words that weren’t forming on her tongue. Her embarrassmentade the boys laugh harder.

“Just because Eliza is getting to shag Rory and you aren’t doesn’t mean you have to get jealous, Lennon.” Y/N spat, stepping infront of Eliza protectively and squaring up to the much taller man. The boys were stunned into abrupt silence. Y/n caught the small snort that left George. John raised his eyebrows at her.

“You’ve got me real scared, sugar, but if you keep lookin at me like that you’ll get me all worked up.”

Y/N scowled up at him and scoffed. “In your dreams, Lennon.” His dumb cowboy boots definitely added to his height. Her furrowed brows and folded arms made his grin stretch further across his face.

“Trust me, you’re in my dreams all right.” His hazel eyes gleamed with excitement. Y/N opened her mouth to snap back at him but Eliza caught her arm.

“C’mon, there’s no point talking to swine when we could be on stage instead.” Eliza glared at John and pulled Y/N away from him. She held her head up as Eliza led her away from the insufferable man.

Y/N found her guitar and checked to see if it was in tune. He didn’t have the right to say that to her. He deserved a smack in the face for even having the nerve to say that to her. He might be all high and mighty with his friends but he was actually just a big asshole who-

“Hey, Y/N, you might wanna stop before you break a string.” A familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts. George stood in front of her smiling.

“Oh. Yeah, thanks.” The side glances she was receiving made Y/N realised she had been taking her anger out on her poor guitar.

George hesitated for a second, awkwardly crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry about John, love, he’s always that much of an asshole.” He apologised for John and despite his attempts it made Y/N’s blood boil even more. But George’s hopeful smile melted her heart. She cracked a smile and nudged his shoulder.

“Who you calling love?” Y/N teased, raising her eyebrows accusingly. A light blush rose in George’s cheeks as he fumbled to apologise. A laugh fell from her mouth.

“I’m only playing, love.” Y/N winked at the blushing boy. “Unfortunately I had to be on stage four minutes ago, so I better go.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, the crowds pretty rough today so good luck, Y/N!” George called as she walked up the stairs to the stage.

“Thanks, love.” She shouted back to him, smiling as she heard his cowboy boots click as he ran off.

Y/N joined the rest of the band on stage.

“I’m glad you could join us, your highness.” Lucy called from behind the drums, getting flipped off in return. Y/N plugged in her amp and nodded at Eliza to begin singing.

Just like yesterday and everyday before that, their music worked like a charm over their audience. This usually seemed like a blessing but today it was more of a curse. George was right. The pubs were always crowded and rowdy but this was on a whole other level. This was more than claustrophobic. The amount of people was alarming.

People who didn’t have room to dance, danced. Person after person swept through the door. A sweltering heat encased everyone it could. It was strangling everyone it could.

The lights, the body count, the lack of space and windows. Not even Y/N’s short skirt and low-cut top could save her.

Much to The Monroes’ pleasure, they had a shorter setlist that night. But as the songs got faster and faster, everything rocketed down hill. The loud, rough song with a great deal of shouting and a great rhythm took control of the blundering audience. It was as if the melody had possessed them.

Bodies moved against each other and limbs were thrown around raucously. The chaos was amplified as a fight broke out. In the smoggy room, Y/N couldn’t see the cause of the commotion but the rickety stage shook at the amount of sudden movement. The excited shouts and shrieks drowned out their music.

Y/N couldn’t even hear Eliza, though she was a few steps away. The sudden smashing of glass seemed like an alarm that sent her heart racing. The shock triggered something in her before she could control it. The sudden noise made her jump, causing her guitar to fall from her hand. She tried desperately to control her breathing and play again but her sweat-slicked hands shook enough for the neck to slip from her grip. The cigarette smoke hanging in the air seemed to choke her. Her rapid breathing made her lungs burn as she inhaled more and more in an attempt to calm down.

She was unsure if she was pulled or if she had fallen of the stage but the sea of moving bodies soon swallowed her. Her arms felt useless as she clamoured away from the crowd that she was drowning in. Her guitar was pulled away from her but her fighting was useless as she screams were swallowed by the deafening noise. Waves of nausea hit her as pungent breath and beer stink were thrust upon her. Her mind felt detached from her body as she weaves her way through the people. Elbows jolted into her ribs and people stood on her feet. Falling out of the backstage door, her trembling knees gave out and she threw up.

The cold air pierced her face, like tiny razor sharp needles pressing through her skin. Sweat poured down her face like a river. The numbing cold pavement pressed into her hands and knees, the pins and needles battling for dominance over the cold. Her body lurched until all she could do was spit and cough, dry heaving occasionally as vomit burned her throat and her nose streamed. Shuddering, she crawled on her shaky limbs to as far away from her vomit as she could get.

Holding her knees, she wiped the few tears that had fallen from her cheeks. The taste stayed on her tongue and made her wince whenever she swallowed on her dry sobs. She was too tired to actually cry, but her body seemed to be happy hiccuping and choking. Her breath would catch in her throat, the taste bubbling up her throat again and she then had to resist the burning urge to break down and cry. She may have broken down and vomited in public but that didn’t mean she couldn’t keep at least a shred of dignity. She most definitely would not cry, no matter what her mind begged her to do. The only sound was the little spluttering chokes and sobs she released.

Until there was a sudden scuffle against the pavement and a harsh whisper of “Oh Fuck.”. Y/N’s head snapped up from her knees.

There was John Lennon, looking like a very disturbed deer caught in the headlights. One of his hands was on the door, which he had fallen into thus revealing his presence, and the other cradled a half drunken beer. There was a cigarette butted out against the floor opposite Y/N.

A wide-eyed grimace painted his face as he stood in silence. His eyes were connected with hers. She had makeup, sweat and snot smeared on her face. She looked so small and cold, sweaty and shivering despite her burning skin. The sheer look of absolute repulse on his face was what made her brain snap.

The loud, strained sobs interrupted with her shallow gasps for breath made John wince. He was frozen by the door, as if he was rooted to the very spot. He dropped the door handle. The soft thunk was barely audible over her sobs.

She willed more than anything for him to leave. He had no doubt seen her throw up all over the road and had heard her sporadic attempt at breathing. He would never let her live this down so she mentally begged him to just open the door without another glance and go tell Paul and Pete everything that had just happened. She didn’t need any mocking sympathy from him. Why couldn’t he just laugh and leave? Why of all people did he have to be outside having a smoke?

Her mental begging didn’t work. John hovered by the door for a few moments. He didn’t know what to do. He’d seen girls cry before, but never such a strong one like Y/N. She was usually so sharp and cold and independent. It pained something deep inside of him to see her so vulnerable.

Her sobs hit him especially. On once in his life, John Lennon didn’t know what to do or say. He decided that the only thing he knew would be better than anything. He shuffled over, hesitating before sitting in front of her. The sheer pain on her face he caught as her head lifted ever so slightly made his heat clench. He wasn’t used to this and was quite confused as to why he cared so much. Normally, he would have just opened the door and left, but seeing her so broken wasn’t something he could ignore.

“Fuck off John.” She choked out, straining her voice. John couldn’t help but smile. Of course you would still defend yourself, even in this state.

“I’m afraid I won’t.” He doesn’t want to leave. Even if you leave, he’d refuse to let you be alone until he knew you were ok.

Words form on his tongue but none of them seem right. A few minutes of silence had passed and John knew he had to speak. His eyes burning holes into the side of her head probably wasn’t helping. He quickly spat out the first sentence he thought of.

“What happened to you?” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them. She looked at him, dark eyes narrowed.

“Why do you care?” She spat at him, curling into herself even more.

“I care because whilst you may hate me, nobody deserves to be alone when they’re distressed. Especially not you.” He paused for a moment. He was shocked by the sentiment that had fallen from his lips. Her eyes widened in shock for a moment but she rolled them obviously.

“You are not getting in my pants, Lennon. No matter how many cheesy sympathy lines you drop.” Y/N sniffed and snatched the beer from in front of him. She swished out her mouth and spat it out through her teeth. She shoved the beer back in his hand and raised her eyebrows, gesturing to the door. “Just go on and get some other bird to shag. I bet you’ll have no problem finding one.”

Despite her stubbornness, John refused to give in. There was something seriously the matter. Despite his other attitudes, he couldn’t let this slide. So he awkwardly just stared her dead in the eye and shook his head as she continued to gesture to the door.

“You’re right. I would have no problem getting a shag tonight. But leaving you here isn’t right, no matter how long it takes. I’m going to sit here until you tell me what’s wrong and how to help. Even if I die trying.”

She snorted at his attempt to lighten the mood and let a small smile creep onto her face. He grinned at her smile. It made Y/N realise that maybe he wasn’t as much of a pig as she’d thought.

“Can’t have you dying, Lennon. Your replacement would no doubt be much worse.” Her voice was hoarse and weak but her light joke was like music to his ears. “And I really can’t tell you what happened to me.” John frowned. “I can’t tell you because I don’t even know what happened. I just get these things sometimes. It feels like I’ve lost control of everything and sometimes it feels like I’m about to die. Like just before.” Her voice broke and her face dropped, her own words upsetting her. Tears pooled in her eyes. The sudden change of mood forced John to make an irrational decision. He shot forward before she could encase herself in her own arms again. His arms held her tight. He knew that despite how awkward everything would be later, this was the right thing to do.

He rocked her against him. Tears streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably and John brushed them away softly. He rubbed circles into her back, hoping it would soothe her sobs. He relaxed and knew he was helping when he felt her sink and cuddle closer into his chest. Her arms went under his jacket and she breathed in the oddly comforting scent of John.

“It’s alright, love, just relax.” John muttered, holding her closer. She sniveled and rested her head just above his heart. The soft thumps timed with the rise and fall of his chest lulled her tears into drying. He continued to rub circles into her back and he began to hum one of his songs. She recognised the tune. It was ‘In Spite of All the Danger’. Y/N closed her eyes. She decided she’d listen this time.

[greensleevesredlipstick]

new life, new love || Anne

just got a fic request for this, big time shout out to @abithemusical​!!! im actually obsessed with the prompt so im really excited to write this!! this is my second fic ever so ill take any advice anyone might have!!! anywayssss here we go!!

anne had a lot of feelings about being resurrected. After all, she had a hell of a lot left to say after henry’s brutalization. she always had to have the last word, and her final fight was no different. She couldn’t be more eager for the chance to speak her truth to the world.

all that was well and dandy but when it came to her personal life, Anne couldn’t be more confused. first of all, she was devastated to have left Elizabeth behind. although she knew she hadn't abandoned her daughter, starting a new life without her sure felt like it. no amount of research praising elizabeth’s action’s would make her feel better that her baby had to grow up with only Henry to protect her. she shuddered. 

then, there was the other aspect. seeing how her last relationship went, Anne wasn't surprised that she was wary to find another man. but that was beginning to be the problem. Anne wasn’t sure that she wanted a man. 

she watched as the other queens, now her sisters, started to adjust to the new time. although everyone had changed it was her cousin, Katherine, who's new development had most fascinated her. Kat, the queen rumored to a slut who had slept with many men as a child, was no longer interested in that. pretty soon after they came back, in fact, Kat came out to the family as gay. her and an alternate for the queens, Genesis, started dating. Anne really admired Kat’s bravery in coming out to her new family. But as more and more time passed, Anne started to wonder if she admired Kat for other reasons. While none of the other queens were in relationships, they had each gone on a date or two, and Cleves had been rumored to have a one-night stand after a particularly wild night out. Anne, however, just hadn’t felt the desire to go out with the many men who asked her out. 

meanwhile Anne began to make a habit of frequenting the local coffee shop. sometimes she didn’t want to be in the company of the other five queens (kind and caring though they were, they could be a little...stuffy) but didn’t want to be alone in her room. she loved the coffee shop not just for it’s delicious cinnamon buns, but also for the background noise it provided her. sometimes, her thoughts got to be too much and needed the distraction. although the queens were a family, she sometimes felt alone in her new life. as she mulled this over, the barista brought her cinnamon roll over. Anne smiled as the barista-who’s name tag read “Jess”-leaned over her and set the plate down. Jess grinned back and whispered conspiratorially “don’t tell anyone, but there's a little extra frosting on that one”. impulsively Anne responded “then I guess we’d better share it”. surprised for a second, jess beamed and turned to grab another fork. 

anne was transfixed as jess’s blonde hair flipped, a bounce in her step as she grabbed the utensil. eyes sparkling as she took a seat next to Anne, Jess said “so what are you doing here anyways? you’ve been here more and more lately. not that I've minded” she winked. Anne, not wanting to dive into her history, brushed it off “I just can’t get enough of these pastries!” mouth full, Jess only laughed. Anne couldn’t help but notice as her nose scrunched as she laughed, how her eyes gleamed, her head tilted back. the two of them discussed the latest ru Paul episode, until Jess stood up. she said “I have to get back to work, but don’t worry. that roll was on me”. she quickly disappeared into the hustle of the store, and Anne decided to walk the long way home. she cheeks flushed, jess’s laugh kept replaying in her mind.

that night, the other queens decided to go out to the new restaurant that had opened down the street. still wanting to be alone, Anne decided to stay home. she started to think about the possibility of her being gay more and more. she was confused-she was pretty dang sure that she had been straight in her previous life. after all, didn’t most of her problems in that life come from her attraction to Henry? or had that only come after her father pushed her to get in his good graces? her thoughts started to torment her. was she faking her marriage with Henry? was she really the manipulative, bitchy home wrecker that some historians made her out to be? was she really gay now, or was she just really jealous of Kat’s happiness? tired of driving herself crazy, Anne decided to stop pacing in her room and get a snack. as she boiled water for a box of Mac and cheese (her usual dinner when parr and Jane weren’t around to cook for her) a certain pink bottle caught her eye. bought by one of the queens in preparation for a party that never happened, it had been abandoned in the back of their cabinets. 

Anne’s thoughts began to race. she needed a break from her thoughts and what was the harm? by the time the queens got back from the party rapidly developing at a friends house, Anne would be asleep. she could have a little fun, and there would be no harm!! 

she started to hum to herself as she started pouring the drink and finished making her dinner. the song had been in the back of her mind for the whole day but she finally recognized it as “I kissed I girl” by Katy Perry. she must've heard it in one of those pop mashups that Kat played to get an idea of current music. 

drinks poured and pasta made, she skipped back to her room. although Jane didn’t approve of her eating in her room, it was just more comfortable. Anne was personally convinced that Mac and cheese in bed was God’s way of apologizing for their past lives, but none of the other queens to share this belief. she took a gulp and turned on “Keeping up with the Kardashians”, pleased that she would have a night away from her thoughts. 

just as she was starting the third episode she heard a knock on the door. grumbling as she paused the tv, she tightened her robe and opened the door. she was shocked to see Jess standing there, quickly pulling her hair out of the two messy spacebuns (as parr affectionately called them) that they had been in. jess quickly said “hi! sorry if this is weird, but you left your wallet in the store this afternoon. It had your drivers permit on it so I found your address”. Anne grabbed the wallet gratefully, not even aware that it was missing. she engulfed jess in a hug, and couldn’t help but notice her sweet but faint perfume. as they awkwardly broke apart, Anne said “well...do you want to come in? I’m having a bit of a wine night” and then instantly regretted it. why was she telling this stranger that she was drinking alone?” Jess replies “although that sounds like something I need right about now, my dogs are definitely wondering where I am.” Shyly she continued” I need to get home to feed them but if you want to get a drink sometime, I would really like that”. she pulled out a spare napkin from her barista apron and wrote her number. she winked and left, leaving Anne stunned. what had just happened?? she had been looking for a peaceful night away from those thoughts-that she might not be straight-but they were back in full force. was jess coming on to her or was she just being friendly? head spinning, she took another gulp of the drink she had poured. 

she couldn’t get jess’s golden-brown hair, how she had beamed at her earlier that day, how she felt as they hugged. lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice that the other queens had decided to come home early from the party. they found her day dreaming on the couch, clutching an old napkin. Jane shut off the tv and put a concerned hand on her forehead. “are you feeling okay? what’s gotten into you, love?” Anne slurred back “you have pretty hair, but not as pretty as their hair”. confused, the other queens gathered around. Cleves, the first to understand what she meant, let out a shriek. “Anne’s got a new man!!!!” I think she's been drinking about a new boyfriend!!!” excitedly, the queens started bickering about who he could be. “the guy that checks our mikes before shows?” guesses Aragon. “the hot one from down the hall? “shoots back Cleves. Even in her state, Anne notices that Kat is the only one that stays silent, and grabs her hand. pulling her closer, she clumsily whispers “I've got a secret to tell them. you already figured it out”. Kat knew instantly what she meant, and stumbled back. the other queens watched in silent confusion as Kat jumped up and down for a few seconds, then threw herself on top of Anne in a bear hug. Anne muttered “I think im going to be sick...” and her stomach lurched, but she hugged Kat back tightly. Parr finally said “kid come on. Tell us!!!” and Anne slyly states “well Cleves was half right... I was drinking it over a new someone. but that someone is a she, not a he. as she realized what she had just announced to her six closest friends, her stomach lurched again. this time, she wasn’t so lucky, and that nights Mac and cheese (along with a pint of ben and Jerrys) came up onto the floor. “I guess I didn't exactly measure how much I put in that drink” she muttered weakly. 

sighing, Jane and Parr each grabbed an arm. this wasn't the first time they had to help Anne out after a long night, but this is most definitely the first time that Anne is in pajamas, not a killer outfit. Parr went to get new clothes, and Jane helped Anne clean herself off. as she waited for the water to heat up, Jane rubbed Anne’s back. they stayed there for a moment, until Jane heard Anne whimper.  tears escaping her, Anne wordlessly clutched onto Jane, and they stayed like that for a moment. parr returned, and the three worked quickly to get Anne ready for bed. stumbling down the hallway, the Jane and Parr got Anne tucked into bed. parr left the room and Jane slowly followed. as she crossed the threshold, she stopped for a second and whispered “love, you know that I’ll always love you. always. no matter who you chose to love, ill always chose to love you”. half asleep, a smile broke out across Anne’s face as she drifted off.