#both a human heart and an apple are living things but one is meant to keep living freely and the other is meant to be consumed

[sakuyumo]

curio 🍎

[fantasticsandwich]

yandere influencer x fem! reader (pt 2)

Don't you know you're the apple of his eye?

Your fingertips were raw from constant nipping, the consequence of a nervous habit that resurfaced whenever your textbooks lay sprawled open like the wings of a fallen bird. Molecular biology had become your latest adversary in the quiet battleground of your small, well-lit room. Your eyes darted across diagrams and text while your brain fought to corral the stubborn facts into memory. They spun around, lines at a time, before coiling into helix lattices. You stared at the wall, watching as the facts floated across your vision like cell clusters inside the vitreous.

“Adenine pairs with thymine,” you muttered under your breath. You chewed on what was left of your nail, wincing slightly at the sting, but it was a pain less sharp than the prospect of failure. The glasses perched on the bridge of your nose slipped down, and you pushed them back up with a knuckle, not daring to smear the pristine lens with sweat-glossed fingers.

The sudden buzz of your phone shattered the stillness. It vibrated against the wooden surface of your desk insistently, the noise disproportionately loud in the silence. Cillian was the first person you thought of, and with him in mind, a wave of anxiety rolled through your chest. If it was him, calling you out for one of his impromptu gatherings, how could you say no without igniting his subtle ire?

Sighing, you ignored it. If he said anything, you would pretend to have been asleep.

“Focus,” you scolded yourself, yet your hand betrayed you, reaching for the device. The screen lit up, casting a glow on your tense features as you swiped to read the message.

‘Hey Y/N, can we meet? - Rian.’

It wasn't Cillian. Relief mingled with curiosity, loosening the tight knot of worry in your stomach. But why would Rian want to meet so suddenly? A simple inquiry, yet it stirred a flutter in your heart that felt oddly like hope.

Your fingers hovered over the reply button, pulse quickening at the possibility of an impromptu meet-up. A meet-up meant stepping away from the books and into a moment that was unplanned, untailored, something you hardly allotted time to.

"Sure, where?" you typed back, thumbs almost slipping on the screen in your haste. You pressed send before the seeds of doubt could take root, before you could convince yourself to decline for the sake of study or appeasement.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

You found him waiting on O’Connell. The bridge was pulsing with Dublin's lifeblood, tourists snapping photos, street performers drawing crowds, locals weaving through it all with purposeful strides.

You saw him, but you were distracted, mesmerized by the crowd indifferently swimming around, swallowing you whole. You wished you could've delved into all of their psyches; mentally or otherwise, it was impossible to know what was wrong with someone. Some people were saints. Some were the worst people alive. Some were average. Some knew what they were and longed to appear otherwise. You were delighted by humanity’s infinite potential. Whether good or bad, humans held an even capacity for both. Someday, you would have to save the life of someone who didn’t deserve to live. You wondered what kind of person you’d become then, when your morals were upheld by a code.

Being in a crowd offered a wonderful sense of anonymity. You weren't anyone. You didn’t belong anywhere, but not one member of the numberless throng knew that. Momentarily, you were granted the chance to become anyone. Not an aspiring doctor. Not another student obsessed with owning nice things. All you wanted to be was at you friend’s side, enjoying the evening.

You stumbled through, eventually reaching Rian. His gaze fluttered to the pavement, then he moved to reach for his wallet. You snuck over, moving until you stood directly behind him. Hands creeping up to his shoulders, you pressed down, stifling a laugh when he jumped.

“Hey!”

“Shit, Y/N,” he hissed, fumbling with his wallet.

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

At that moment, his stomach growled.

Laughing, you patted him on the back. He permitted your hold to linger, your arm resting across his shoulders as you embarked into the throng, mindlessly stepping. Their stroll led them to a small bar tucked into an alley. A flickering sign with streaks of balding neon designates its name, but you paid it no mind and entered. Inside, the atmosphere was cozy, dimly lit with amber bulbs that cast a comforting glow over the wooden tables.

Passing a line of arcade games, you choose a spot near the front, on barstools that overlooked the street. Still, you were attracted to the machine’s blaring lights like a moth. You wanted a plush toy from the claw machine and knew that you, for some reason or another—due to a lack of skill or luck—would not receive it. As the eldest child, you were accustomed to sowing the seeds of desire yet and never reaping. But it was for the better; you were greedy and would demand more.

“What are you looking at?”

Sharply inhaling, you spun around to face him. Rian peered at you from behind his phone screen, then set it aside, face up.

“Nothing,” you said. “Those machines are really bright. It’s distracting.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said, squinting. It really was blinding.

Settling at their table, Rian sank onto a stool, defeated. It creaked beneath his weight, and he winced.

“I’ll get us drinks,” said you, already rising.

His arm shot out in protest, wrapping around yoru wrist. “No, let me.”

With a huff, you tugged yourself free. “You invited me out, so it’s my treat.” Rian could not afford to squander his hard-earned cash on you.

“Isn’t it usually the other way?”

“Who cares? You’re getting free food. Don’t question my benevolence.”

Your bank account’s sum would dwindle, but someday, you’d make it back tenfold and treat Rian to something better than a shitty pub without even bothering to look at the price. This thought was your bleeding wallet’s only solace.

Reaching the bar, you ordered two pints. He swiftly delivered them from the tap. Cheering, you sipped at the froth spilling over the edge. You set a hefty glass before Rian and wiped your mouth on your shoulder.

“Sorry for the sudden call,” he abruptly said, his hands finding the security of his pockets as he spoke, “I just felt like seeing a friend today, and you’re as friendly as the lot gets.”

“No problem. I’m glad for the distraction. It feels like ages since we’ve last seen each other.”

“Yeah, really. Life gets busy. School, work, family… Between everything, It’s impossible to find a moment just to breathe.”

Not to mention how he juggled two part-time jobs, but Rian wasn’t one to complain.

Humming along, you traced the rim of your glass. You were vaguely aware that you should’ve gotten another to supplement living off of your mother’s income, but after last semester, you were reconsidering your ability to work and maintain your grades. At the very least, you’d work in the summer, and since your mother refused to take rent, would find other ways to help around the house. Maybe you should’ve already started looking for a co-op to boost your application for med school.

“It really is,” you said, shaking your head. “I thought so, too. I haven’t seen you or Connor in forever. I hate how, even though we attend the same university, it feels like we’re living in different worlds.”

Secondary school was unfounded hell, all seven layers of Dante’s inferno at once. While you didn’t recall those days fondly, you longed for its simplicity. There was a practiced ease to each day, comfort in only having to devote your time to your studies. Even now, you only had to focus on hitting the books and attending class, but because the responsibility to learn had fallen on you, you found your resolve wavering. Only the prospect of becoming filthy rich one day spurred your ambitions.

And grades too, you supposed. Most people claimed grades weren’t important, but those very same figures wouldn’t schedule appointments with a doctor who struggled through undergrad coursework. While it wouldn’t be evident upon entering an office, anyone could tell a doctor’s educational prowess through their conduct.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed, adjusting your glasses with a habitual motion. Your arm grazed the table on the way to your lap, stirring the contents of your cups. Your gaze was drawn to the rippling, amber liquid.

“Have you been keeping well with your studies?” Rian inquired.

“Trying to,” you said. You chuckled, a hollow, biting sound. “Can’t understand shit, but molecular biology isn't going to learn itself.”

“Speaking of misunderstandings,” Rian ventured cautiously, his fingers playing with the condensation on his glass. “Are you... I mean, I could be wrong, but from what I hear around campus, is there something going on between you and Cillian?”

The question struck you like a wave, causing you to inhale sharply. Your mouthful of beer went down the wrong pipe, and you choked, sputtering as you tried to regain your composure. Your eyes watered as you reached for a napkin, dabbing at your lips.

“Why would you ask that?” you managed to cough out. Bringing a hand up, you hit your chest, dislodging the liquid from your lungs.

Rian's gaze was steady, though not unkind, as he took a slow sip of his beer, buying a moment before answering. He set the glass down with a gentle thud, the sound muffled by the chatter and music surrounding them.

“I guess I’ve noticed how he's around you. It’s like… like he's always trying to keep close to you, you know?”

You studied Rian’s expression, noting the earnest furrow in his brow.

“No, we’re not anything. Only friends, and Cillian is just… complicated,” you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words. “But speaking of complicated,” you ventured with a cautious smile, “how are things with your girlfriend? I know you’re long-distance, but you haven’t talked about her in a while.”

Rian’s expression softened, but his eyes darted away for a moment before meeting yours again. He fiddled with the edge of a coaster, his fingers tracing the damp outline left by his beer glass.

“Ah, well, we haven’t spoken much lately,” he admitted, a note of shyness betraying his usual warmth. “It’s kind of on a pause, I guess. But it’s alright. Life's been busy. Busy, or maybe I’m not good at juggling.”

Sometimes, you thought Eve was a grand ploy invented by his madness. A girlfriend who lived in Malaysia and only met him through an exchange program last year? You didn’t recall meeting such a person, but supposedly, they struck up conversation because Rian was learning Indonesian, and they kept in contact to continue as language partners. It didn’t make sense to you, but what did you know? You were studying biomedical science, after all. You knew all the heart’s functions except for one.

“Really?” You responded with good-natured curiosity, though your mind was elsewhere. A buzz from under the table jolted you out of your reverie. You glanced down discreetly, the familiar ding of a text notification causing your heart to skip a beat. It was Cillian. Your fingertips brushed against the cold metal.

“Y/N?” Realizing your distraction, Rian’s brows knitted together.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, giving him an apologetic grin. “Just lost in thought for a second there.”

Another buzz, more insistent this time, sent a ripple of anxiety through you. You could almost hear Cillian’s voice in your head, his voice with each chime. Hey, hey, hey. Answer me. Why aren’t you picking up the phone? Your grip on the cup tightened.

Rian took a sip of his beer, his eyes not leaving your face. In the brief silence that followed, you were crushed beneath the weight of his unspoken questions, the air thickening as your phone continued like a beehive, its screen emitting a faint glow from beneath the cover of the table. You angled the device slightly, squinting to read the string of texts as you typed out a hurried response. Your thumb fumbled over the autocorrect suggestions, fingers flying too fast for your mind.

“Did I call you out at a bad time?” Rian leaned in, genuinely perplexed, the soft light casting shadows across his face. “You seem to be somewhere else.”

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as you tucked the device away, hoping your smile might mask the sudden rush of guilt. “Ah, no, it's not that,” you managed to say, your voice a pitch higher than usual. “Brother’s home alone and doesn’t know how to cook. I’ll get him some Chinese after. You know how it is.”

Instead of answering, he shrugged and downed the rest of his glass’ contents in a single long gulp. Your heart clenched with gratitude. You offered a nod, a silent thank you, before redirecting the conversation to safer, shallower waters.

Across from you, Rian reached for his glass, the ice within clinking like a subtle chime. He took a slow swig to scoop any dregs into his mouth, chewed on a piece of ice, then set the glass down with measured care. His hand moved through the air as if to dismiss an irritating gnat.

“Summer brings all the pests,” he said, swatting at the air. “You shouldn’t bait flies. They’ve got germs and they’ll make you sick if they linger.”

Your mouth was dry. “I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hugging yourself, you watched the night drift past, viewing the crowd, pinpointing people to imagine the lives of. You spied yourself in the reflection, your image superimposed across the glass. Your lens reflected the light, making your eyes round discs.

What were you doing here? What were your goals with Rian?

He was always a joy to hang out with, but like all good things, he was received in moderation. He took just enough courses to be considered a full-time student and whenever he wasn’t committed to his studies, spent his precious free time trapped at a part-time job. His pay covered his tuition. His grandparents from the countryside sent him a meager allowance for food. Whenever they went out, he eyed the prices. He’d offer to pay at dinner, but no one ever permitted him to snag the check, knowing better than to take advantage of his needlessly giving nature. Without parents, he struggled more than a regular student ought to, so you tried to take care of him, the boy who was like the younger brother you’d always wanted. You weren’t doing a very good job, but Rian was nothing if not determined to squander his loyalty on someone like you.

You had sparse conversation, commenting on things between bites.  While not particularly close with Rian, he was easy to read and transparent. You soon developed a good groove in the conversation, permitting it to falter when you finally lost interest. Otherwise, you ordered chips to eat in silence and neatly stacked the trays when finished. While you wiped the table down with a napkin, Rian discarded your trash in a rubbish bin.

Checking the time, you realized y ouhad been out for just over an hour. You could’ve extended the plans. You still had a small balance set aside for discretionary spending, but the week was yet to end, and you feared that Cillian might impose an abrupt photography session, which meant visiting a new resturaunt, which would be followed by a trip to his favorite cafe.

If you’d gone out with him instead of Rian tonight, you could’ve expected to extend the excursion by an hour and for your account to be wiped. He knew all the trendy, fashionable stores, and in the company of someone like him, you felt compelled to also look your best. You could do little about your physical appearance, so through fashion, it was.

On the way out, you passed by that claw machine again. You glanced longingly at the contents. Although the quality was questionable, the little duck perched atop the lot was adorable. You paused to stare at your reflection in the mirror. Your face looked puffy and beneath the harsh lights, the bags beneath your eyes visible. The breeze had died and the night air was humid, so baby hairs stuck to your forehead. Retrieving a clip from your purse, you stalled. You scooped the strands between your thumb and forefinger, attaching the clip. You laughed at yourself. Your bangs stuck up like a palm tree.

“So that’s what you were looking at,” said Rian, slotting himself at your side. His reflection joined yours. “Want me to win it for you?”

“No. It’s all luck, no skill.”

“That’s because you’re not skilled.”

“You know these things are practically scams, right? The claws are always too weak to grab anything.”

Rian’s lips curved into a smile, his features illuminated by the neon colors dancing across his face. “Maybe,” he conceded, tucking a stray lock of wavy hair behind his ear. “But it’s still worth a shot. What if I win you something?”

“Then I’ll be genuinely impressed.”

You winced when he inserted a bill. He maneuvered the claw around, eyeing an ugly thing. You stood at the side of the machine, eyeing his trajectory. The machine gave two turns with each payment. During the first, Rian managed to snag the creature. Seized by the head, it precariously wobbled before slipping out and falling back into place. The second was just as dismal.

Rian clicked his tongue. You begged him to stop, but he fed the machine bill after bill. He shrieked with every failed attempt, yet on on the eighth and final turn, the claw held fast and secured the creature.  Your mouth fell open as the prize dangled precariously during its journey toward the drop chute, landing with a dull thud. It was still for a moment before he lifted the plexiglass and snatched it up.

“Yes! Did you see that? I beat the machine!”

Gripping it by the neck, he presented a scraggy bundle of coarse thread and lopsided proportions. You weren’t quite sure what it was meant to be. Similarly, it wasn’t the one you had your eye on earlier. Nevertheless, you profusely thanked his efforts and rewarded him with an awkward embrace.

“Let’s take a picture with your new friend there,” Rian begged. His phone, a device older than most, its screen littered with scratches, was already out of his pocket and in his hands. “I want to show off my skills.”

You grinned. “You’re going to brag about one measly win?”

“It made you smile. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

“No. It’s alright. It’s just one picture.”

You hugged the toy close to your chest to muffle the furious pounding of your heart as he snapped the photo. With its head skimming your cheek, you caught a whiff of its cardboard stench and felt a hole beneath one of the arms. The material was coarse against your cheek. You gritted your teeth and grinned. You wouldn’t complain because Rian was overjoyed to provide something for you, so you chewed your tongue.

Instead of the shoddy object, you reveled in the sentiment behind it, knowing your momentary happiness was worth losing out on several lunches because he valued you more than himself.

Backing up, Rian framed the shot with shaky hands. Just as the shutter clicked, someone jostled him from behind. With a grin, he turned the screen toward you, displaying your blurred visage.

“Rian, it’s all hazy,” you protested. The lights in the back were supernovas, streaky lines illuminating your silhouette. Your figure appeared smeared across them like a watercolor painting left out in the rain.

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged, pocketing his phone without a second glance. “It’s just a picture of us—well, you and the… Whatever the fuck the ugly thing is. I know you’ll love it. You’ve got this way of loving things no one else could.”

You would. You had to, because no one else would offer the care you did.

You could’ve deluded yourself into feeling special, but it was all for show. He was smiles and kindness, yet above all, Rian was desperate to keep others at his side as if they were pieces of art to be displayed. Such was natural for people of his nature; those who were alone and despised the fact would always try to appear otherwise, and at all costs. Rian would toil and squander his precious time and money to please you, because if he didn’t no one else would. He was an indispensable person, eager to assert his value. That was his sense of selfishness.

Knowing all that, would you still plead for the stupid toy again? Of course, and without delay. The harsh truth to the world was that that happiness could only be achieved through vanity. Humans were vain and selfish; no person was inherently selfless. Those that were, were without good reason.

[snortoborto]

Hey gang, I made a little drawing of the Curtis bros as ponies. (yes they're all earth ponies because I associate them with the apple siblings.) Cutie mark explanations UNDER CUT!

Darry's cutie mark is like three circles (yes three, because of him and his two bros) because circles sort of represent protection, behind a home. The whole thing symbolizes stability and protection. He's the rock of his family as the oldest sibling and also as the leader of the gang, protecting and looking out for everyone. He didn't fully understand his cutie mark until his parents died and he had to provide a stable home for his brothers. I think the events of the book really taught him what his role and cutie mark are all about, encouraging him to be a better homemaker for his brothers, especially ponyboy. He cares a lot about making sure his family is stable and safe. I also chose a house not just because "its a home" but also because yk, he rooves houses. He literally makes homes safer, like, as his job idk. I also kind of like the idea that Darry was the only one of the brothers to initially be kind of disappointed with his cutie mark because he wanted something that symbolized his athletic abilities.

Sodapop's cutie mark is a heart with a bandage on it and a wrench behind it because he's a fixer and mediator. He cares about mending conflict and misunderstanding between him and his brothers, but also between people in general. For soda, it's never too late to fix a relationship, as long as you lead with love. Also, just more practically, he loves to fix things. I mean, he's a mechanic in the book, but ponies don't have cars, so I think he fixes other things. I think soda is the only sibling who has never really had all that much trouble understanding his cutie mark, both practically and emotionally/symbolically.

Ponyboy's cutie mark is sort of the most complex, and I like to think that instead of having just turned 14, if the story were set in equestria, he would've just gotten his cutie mark a couple months before the events of the book. Pony's is essentially a sun with like little swirls and clouds. It symbolizes his evergreen creativity and thoughtful and empathetic nature. The sun's rays are sort of like his burst of creativity, with the little swirls inside symbolizing like, people's different lives and experiences. The two separated clouds are sort of meant to represent a separation between people, but the swirls within the sun are still connected into one line, which actually forms the shape of the sun. Idk is hard to describe, but I want it to show how ponyboy is interested in the lives of people and extends empathy to them, and that's what inspires his creativity, the separate, yet identical aspects of the human (pony) expirence. Ponyboy hasn't even begun to really understand what his cutie mark means, but his journey throughout the book helps him understand. In part, via his friendship with Cherry.

By the end of his story, I think he is starting to realize that his characteristic empathy could really help him understand and forgive Darry, and he adopts a more empathetic view of his brother. Both Pony and Darry are working on understanding and embodying the aspects of their cutie marks and talents, implementing them into their relationship with each other.

[sofullofloveicould]

march writing challenge 2023 - day 20

a song that makes you believe in love

Even if I had to leave Heaven, I would still fly down to you. Teeth bared, arms open. 

You are wretched.

A goddess in red, shattered between my teeth like hard candy. I would look in the mirror, and see the proof of our sin, let it water the gardens of Eden. 

I could work your screams like magic, weave them in a tapestry to keep me warm under the stars. I would sleep on the steps to your palace, and wait for my time. There are rings on your fingers, the kind that work around my neck in sleep. 

I will slip into you like a blanket, your taste and feel, and it will feel like coming home. I will run from God for it, I will leave my wings for you. 

Darling, you’re the devil I know and the angel I love, you’re the love held just behind my heart. I do not need to be loved by you, merely being close is enough. I am filled to the point of bursting with your lonesome. 

I have come to be lonesome with you, by day or by night, in a million stolen moments. I would run with you, away from salvation and into your open arms, holding my innocence by the neck. We could choke her out together, and drink her screams like the blood of God. 

We would pretend it was more than wine in a chalice, and I could drink it from you instead and have it be real. 

I cannot bear to be apart from you, and we will nurse every second from the Mother, and we would die together and live together until the air goes cold. I am the serpent in the apple tree, and we could tear into the sweet flesh, we could taste a forbidden taste, and we could run together, out past the wood and the world, and that fatal picnic could be out last. 

A poisoned apple is still a sweet one until the last bite, and you may find it rotted from the core. But it is love, true as the sea, whole as a life with you in it. 

Our hands fit together like they were meant to, and our bodies fit in that secret way bodies do, like a sock to a babe’s foot. 

We are tragic, a winter storm through the desert, we are a twin pair of birds, a flock of our own, twin bullets arcing through an acid night. 

But it cannot be anything but precious, not with your lips so sweet my teeth must be rotting, falling out, and I know you would still love the gummy mess of me, so rich and fattened on your love. 

When I have turned my back on sainthood, run from nirvana to the pounding of drums, there will be a spot for me, warmed by your breath, nestled in the corner of your heart. 

It is a fleshy, predictable, human thing, and it beats to the same rhythm as mine, one that aches and weeps and begs. 

We both know it, and when we fall, we could be as tired as the wind of blowing, but we would find each other again, and again, until the leaves under our feet rot to nothing, and the nightime bleeds into our veins. 

Sacrificial lambs to the slaughter, the sky to earth, me to you, we are drawn by an invisible hand, pulled by the same string we will tie ourselves up with, and we will die still together.  If there is a sword to which you wish to fall, find me first. You will know where to search for me, I will be where barley sours to beer, where the gardens of Eden hide, for a world without you is not one at all. 

[wizkiddx]

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

[tomago]

i love you so, natsume sakasaki

sypnosis。the world itself seemed to be against both of you, but no matter where you hide, time will always condemn you; it is this world's greatest foe.

cw , angst , death

shuffle x scribble request — ( OKAY THIS IS A LONG ONE bear with me. could i request a natsume x reader angst. maybe a magic au, and reader is watching natsume do his magic stuff. then something goes wrong with his spells and in turn he accidentally puts a deadly curse on the reader, maybe one that drastically shortens their lifespan. BUT, reader doesn’t know what happened. natsume’s like “no worries, nothing big just a little error” and then he goes off searching for something to help reverse the curse and every day he just returns with nothing and watches reader become worse. and then, DUN DUN DUN he returns home to reader succumbing to the final effects of the curse, basically dying. add in some heart wrenching last goodbye type stuff. and then natsume’s guilt after their death. im so sorry this is so long LMAO 😭 )

note ; hiii anon !!!!!!!! I ENJOYED WRITING THIS SOOOSOO SO MUCH. IM SO IN LOVE. YOU ARE SO BIG BRAINED. JUST. chefs kiss i hope this quenches your thirst— ♪

in a world where fear and trepidation runs amidst the airs that the anemoi blew, the grotesque world as it was had always been ruthless and callous to either human or wizard. even treading across a country to another could be perilous; but that may be why it was incredible. the horrors and innocence alike, the world did not treat you differently.

you've always been fascinated by wondrous things, marveling at any phenomenal miracles. you’re covetous of the world and its wonders; not in the bad way, but in the way which exiled you from both human and wizard. your admiration runs deep, and leads you to meeting a talented wizard, sakasaki natsume.

glistening bottles filled with peculiarly-colored liquid and insects that you've ever seen before lined atop shelves inside his quarters, each and every one yelled 'do not touch' in one look — feathered creatures that suspend time in their rustling wings flew over your head; an indication that his refuge was no place for a human.

and here he was, welcoming you yet again above droplets of still resin that contained stone and bone alike — eroded by time to simply memories of what once was.

"curious, isn't it,", his voice echoes from wall to wall through the incandescent rays of sun that peaks through cracks and fissures of his workplace; and with the slightest flick of the wrist, a spell uttered beneath his skin — cold turned into warmth, and feathers began to descend.

a delightful spectacle was on display for only you, your hand light above his gloved own; your eyes wide filled with awe for his effortless feat, and his eyes not once blinked away from you.

how curious, truly, how you fail to notice a ticking bomb even inside you.

gods, — even if silly myths like gods were true, must have a reason to separate man and wizard. even if his heart breaks to part with you, even if your desire to learn more about natsume still is strong, the inevitable truth that the world has was unrelenting.

no matter how much of a frightening wizard natsume was, there was only much he could do with magic. even if it meant for you to live a normal life, even if it meant you'd be cured and forget all about him, he'd give up all of his tricks in exchange for you to survive.

with every moment you spent with him, your life thins, until it was all but a brittle thread. your body will slowly turn into stone, and you will crumble. but more importantly, natsume will live to see it.

how cruel, really, aren't wizards supposed to be the ones tormenting humans? but why do you put him through all of this suffering? letting yourself slowly be poisoned by natsume's apple, and even licking the poison from his fingertips — was this your plan? to turn into stone with his hands and crush him with his own guilt for being too selfish to have you even if it meant losing you?

but seeing your expression so innocent, not worrying about a single thing — you will never be lovelier than now, and he will never be here again. it tugs on his heart tightly, perhaps, he may be able to steal time from fate just a little longer.

this will be my last confession, i love you, i love you, and i love you.

to who does he whisper these words to, if not your peaceful body that lied on top of the wild unruly fields that you and he once danced in? your skin was cold, it shined; and pieces of you fell into his palms.

natsume shook, his tears uncontrollable; this was it. you had turned into stone.

and upon the banks of lethe, his tears fell; how badly must our story end, and decided, no: against his will he drinks the river's cold waters — and forgets everything.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Deliverance Chapter Three

Masterlist

Summary: That time has come to sort through the artefacts that have been sent to earth with you, and Clark finds he is less and less impressed with how krypton was governed.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Fluff,Angst, A/B/O, Mating mentioned, Heats mentioned, Swearing

Wordcount: 14000+

A/N; so this chapter is mostly information and backstory. I rewrote kryptons history becuase... I wanted to? Yeah any way i hope you all enjoy even it it drags.

Taglist: in reblogs

The days that followed were strange, you had gotten used to earth and its strangeness. You were also spending as much time outside as you could, soaking up the sun rays and laying in the grass, sometimes walking through the fields. Martha even had you helping her with some flowerbeds 'weeding' humans were funny creatures. The white and pink flowers were acceptable but the little fluffy yellow ones and tiny blue ones were not? They were 'weeds' and had to be pulled from the ground. Martha had given you a strange look when you asked to keep them but got you a little trough all the same and helped you plant your weeds. They lived on your windowsill and you watered them every morning. Clark found it cute and even added some to it wanting to help.

You felt much better now and your breathing had settled. It was bliss residing with your alpha. You'd learned that he had a job as a reporter- a news writer. Those things weren't really mentioned at home which surprized you when you realised just how important they were and how much time it took up. And speaking of importance, you got your papers! Your official human documentation. A certificate of birth, because humans rewarded their young with paper on their birth you found it funny but your new family had been adamant you were given this reward for being birthed. You also got a number for social security recognition, a schooling achievement diploma? And a passport? So you could fly? Which didn't make much sense to you when you could do that anyway... Or would be able to once you were completely acclimatised to this planet. It had been Clark's friends- A bat who arranged it all, which was nice... If not odd you thought a bat was a winged mammal but perhaps there was a different bat hybrid you wasn't aware of. You were now unofficially, official in your human life.

When Clark was away you missed him, but didn't? Martha kept you busy, filling in the holes of your earthly education. You found her to be a sweet and funny woman, she was wholesome and kind. Never once shying away from you like you had expected. You lived with her for the moment a spare room in the farm house had been converted for you. For some reason she would not let you stay in the same room as your mate, she said it was a human thing. Not that, it stopped Clark from sneaking in at night and curling up in the bed with you soothing you and kissing you. He would always chuckle with you stating 'he wasn't human so its okay' whilst snuggling you sweetly scenting and murring at you until you fell asleep. You never felt safer then in the arms of your alpha, snuggling tight against him pressing kisses to his chest and rubbing your cheek on the curls that covered it, digging your nose into them and sniffing, breathing him in falling asleep.

Your bond was growing stronger and stronger as the days past, even if you only managed a few hours at night and in the morning with him. Clark had to explain some strange things, for some reason you were both to wear a ring? When humans found their mates they gave each other rings and wore them on the left ring fingers it meant they were mates? Married? Martha had been a little upset over it at first but Clark said it was best to do it this way, you could have your wedding later, for now he will wait. Martha had been persistent but in the end gave up, it was hard for her to face the reality that her son was not human and he was trying his best.

You were happier then you thought you'd be on a alien world, you'd acclimatised for the most part and found your own earthling way. Even if Martha and Clark found it strange you refused to eat anything brown or plain. Or meat.

The concept of eating animals was very disturbing for you. On krypton animals were not eaten, well not animals like on earth. Kryptonian's ate what earthlings would call insects, non sentient beings. But then again the insects here were... Tiny, surprizingly so. But Clark had taken it in his stride, if you didn't want to eat meat he wasn't going to force you... But he made you eat lots of what he called your 'leafy greens'... Which didn't make sense to you because many of the leafy greens should just be called greens because brocca-broccile- baby trees! Didn't have leaves neither did the little green balls! P's? You think he called them p's. Just when you began to loose hope for delicious sustenance he surprized you. Mangoes. You loved mangoes and grapes and apples! Fruit any fruit. Martha and your mate had taken you to a human grocery store and you'd been drawn to the fruit section.

You walked into the store clutching at Clark's arm terrified, it was the first time being out and mingling with other humans. Once inside you looked about seeing a few humans scattered about the isles and relaxed. A wave of smells hit your senses making you cough.

"Breath, breath through it love... That's it good girl, good omega. Now hold on to me or the cart and stay with ma and me" Clark said rubbing your back leading you behind Martha walking past some special buys. After a few short minuets you relaxed and released Clark looking watching as the other humans walked about some with children some teenagers and even a few alone. The children drew your attention. Boys. Real little boys. Flesh and blood male children in little hats and shorts- clothing with cartoon race cars on them. You froze looking in awe. Felt the stutter.

"love?" he asked feeling you halt and tense. He instantly looked up and was on alert every bone in his body itching to protect you. To destroy what had spooked his tiny mate. He looked around for the danger but there was none, just a mother and her sons further down the isle.

"Look... Boys, young boys" you uttered slowly looking to the children holding a brightly coloured packet up to what you presumed was his mother pleading for the packet. The woman smiled and nodded letting them throw the packet into the cart and they continued down the isle.

"Yes love. I forget you've never seen a young boy have you" he hummed wrapping his arms around you from behind kissing the top of your head. You melted into him and shook your head still watching as the humans rounded the corner at the end of the shop.

"what do you think?" Clark whispered sweetly, amused and struck by the way you'd reacted to such a simple sight. A mother and sons, he forgot you'd never seen a boy before. He had been the last one on krypton.

"They... He was beautiful." you uttered slowly blinking still registering the image of a real live breathing male child.

"Ours will be better~ perfectly formed kryptonians a whole swarm" he said making you feel light and carefree, the thought of a litter- a true litter of your own pups made you quiver in anticipation.

"You-you'll give me pups?" you said softly trembling from head to toe. Clark hadn't made any inclination to wanting pups or to take your bond any further then the sweet caresses and cuddles he'd been gifting you. You'd not once spoke of anything beyond getting you settled into human life. Clark grinned awkwardly and nodded, he wasn't used to children being called pups and such, he was still coming to terms with the? Miscommunication between worlds and terminology.

"I will try my hardest, sons and daughters" he chuckled squeezing you tightly and pressed a long kiss to your head nuzzling your hair watching as the family disappeared. His heart swelled. A family, a real family. Children of his own in your little belly, with out fear of them being too much for you to handle. He could relax knowing you could handle their tiny kicks and nudges. You could survive a pregnancy and birth him healthy full term children. He had so many niggling little fears over trying to create himself a family with a human. Humans were weak, fragile, but with you? With you he could be exactly what he was. A kryptonian. A god among men. It was refreshing having someone he could truly relax around.

"Promise?" Came the tiny voice, breathless and pleading, huge doe like eyes blinking at him hopefully glazed in tears. He could feel the tremors through your bond, like someone twanging an elastic band, the vibrations of relief and excitement reaching him, tugging and pulling. It was as if you had feared he wouldn't give you children. And finally he had confirmed it.

"I promise little omega, as soon as I'm able you will be round and heavy~" watching as your eye grew wide and you purred at him rubbing your cheek to his as he craned down to kiss you, then scented him under his jaw. With an adorable flush and melodious gasp you pulled back looking around worried someone would know you'd scented your alpha.

"shh remember humans don't understand, they don't know what you did sweet pea" he uttered trying to sooth you. You had explained that scenting was seen as very private. It was... Like mating- the prequel to meeting, scenting was strengthening your bond and extremely intimate. To be caught doing it out side? It was very frowned upon, on krypton you'd get less disapproval if he fucked you out in the open!

"do not call me a p.. They are wretched things!... Call me... Something yummy" you complained not yet being aware that a sweet pea was a flower... And he wasn't calling you and actual pea.

"I apologise... You can be my little cookie?" he chuckled slowly it wasn't that he was laughing at you but he found it endearing how straight forward you were. If you didn't like something you told him out right. It was a nice change, you didn't seem to understand the whole human political correctness and subtlety. Your reasoning with Clark was that you could both feel the others feelings through the bond, so what was the point in lying. That would just complicate things. And he couldn't argue with your logic.

"what is a cookie?" you asked tipping your head to the side curiously. He did burst out laughing at that and shook his head squeezing you tight. Tighter then any human could handle, but that was part of the beauty in your relationship. You wasn't human, wasn't breakable. He could fully relax and touch you without fear of harming you. You were impenetrable... Well in that sense anyway~

"Something very sweet and delicious I promise~" he said kissing your head once more and ushered you down the isle slowly trying to find his mother, but still let you look around. You were curious and wanted to explore your new home planet and he wont ruin your first venture.

"Clark? Clark come and help me- I cant reach the milk! Its at the back again!" Martha said quietly you smiled. It took a lot of coaxing but you had indeed tried what Clark had explained as 'cow juice' and had developed a taste for it. So Martha had promised you milk every day if you liked. Which you did like. A lot. Clark pressed another kiss to you and walked off towards the milk refrigerators expecting you to follow.

You made to follow but a sweet scent hit you and you stopped mid step. It was wonderful and ripe, sweet and succulent. You pivoted and followed without much thought. Your feet found there way twisting around the display of 'leafy greens' to a bright colourful isle. You salivated at the smells. There were so many intoxicating scents you didn't know what to look at first.

You pressed a hand on a small net package full of strange green fuzzy balls. Kiwi's? You read and scrunched your face up at the peculiar name. Then plucked the bag up and held it to your nose sniffing. They smelled divine, like a type of food from home. Okriin a small sour sweet treat given to children on their birthing date. You sniffed again and almost cried. It was so similar but so different sweeter and fuller in the scent. You cautiously sniffed again and closed your eyes before tentativly prodding it with your tongue wanting to see if it tasted the same.

"y/n? Y/n?!- oh god there you are? What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack" Clark said racing towards you his mother behind him with the cart. He slid to a stop and blinked at you. As you scrunched up your nose.

"The texture of these are... Not very nice?" you said naively moving for the fruit again sticking your tongue out once more trying to discern if it was edible like this. Clark moved quickly gasping holding your hands that had the.. Kiwi's in it.

"no, no.. No we- you don't eat them like that... You peel them and eat the inside, and we don't lick things in the shop okay?" he explained with a teasing to his voice. Martha chuckled into her chest she couldn't help it, you were extremely cute.

"But? Then how do you know if you like it if you don't taste?" You frowned as Martha stifled a laugh. But she quickly curbed herself when you looked serious and a little upset. You didn't find it funny food was serious and had always been rationed, you were allowed only the portion you needed to stay healthy back home. Nothing more unless you could grow it.

"You buy it and eat it at home, then we can come and get more" Clark said drawing your attention once more. Your frown deepened. More? You could come back? That didn't sound right... or fair, Martha normally made one trip a week on the same day... wasn't that her alotted time for food shopping? Or was it by choice?

"More? But isn't there rules on how many trips a household makes?" You asked genuinely confused looking from your mate to his mother then back again. They both looked a little shocked by the idea of not being allowed to get food when they needed to. Martha even looked sad, shaking her head looking down.

"No love, there isn't... is there on kry-back home?" Clark asked, he almost sounded offended by the thought of being told when you can and cant go shopping.

"Yes. We have fifteen minuets for every member of your house hold that your shopping for and an alotted time every two weeks to pick up your rations" you said without batting an eyelash. Clark drew a deep breath, he had to admit he didn't like what he was hearing about your shared home planet. He found himself more and more relieved you were here with him and not in that? Authoritarian place.

"Did you lick anything else?" He said trying to move away from the topic, he was trying to get you used to this planet and this was your first time out and about in town. He wanted to move on, to let you be free and explore... preferably with him beside you.

"...If I do can we take it home?" You said tipping your head to him with a cheek grin. He chuckled and rounded you placing an arm around your waist and pokeing under your ribs in a freshly discovered tickle spot making you giggle.

"Silly thing you don't have to lick things for us to buy them, I suppose you liked the smell huh?" He enquired nodding to the Kiwis still clutched protectively in your hands.

"Yes it.. Its like something from home- a treat we had on our birthing day..." you nodded looking down plucking at the bright orange netting that kept four of the fuzzy fruit together.

"Then we shall get two packets love" he said plucking another pack of kiwis and placing them in the cart, he then looked to you as you scanned the isle still indulging in the amazing mix of smells and colours.

"Pick out a few more things to try, the mangoes are nice and juicy I think you'd like them." He said motioning to the colourful sweet smelling displays.

"R-really I can pick some?" You asked nervously twiddling your fingers and pulling onto the sleeves of your top.

"Yes love we don't ration here you can pick a few things to try, just promise me you wont lick any of it... at least not until we get to the car"  he said grinning as you nodded enthusiastically looking around suddenly full of childish glee. God help him when you try some candy, he has the feeling you'll have a sweet tooth.

"I promise!" You said happily and ran off to some of the other fruit that smelt divine and quickly picked a few.

Once you got home you watched Clark and Martha make a small platter of fruit for you. And you'd fallen inlove! Mangoes and pears were your favourite,  you didn't like grapefruit and should have listened when they told you not to eat a lemon... lemons were for juicing and flavouring other food, not for eating.

You smiled as you mulled over the day, that was the first day you saw the civilisation of your new home. Humans were free and unorganised. Chaotic but at the same time had made their own way to navigate the chaos of their world and one another. They were very similar to your kind. But it was hard, frightening! Suddenly you could do what you wanted when you wanted. Krypton in its desperation had taken many choices away, even the basic ones. Like how much food you could have per household, how many times you could visit the shopping districts or medical bays. You had laws on how much water you used, who could go where and when. and suddenly all that structure- all those rules were gone. You were to do as you pleased?

It was a frightening concept.

You padded across the small space to the barn with tentative steps, quivering knees. Clark was behind you a few feet trying to give you space, yet at the same time he was pressing himself though the bond. Warm and comforting reassuring you. He had learned in the past week that he could send messages through the bond. Almost whispers it was weird you didn't hear anything but you could feel his words, feel his probing. His soul was apart of you and your soul apart of him now. And you could communicate in such a deep way it- you almost felt as if you were one being.

Today you had decided to go through the ships cargo hold and start removing some things up to your room. It had been something you put off but it was time to begin answering more questions, time to give our alpha his heirlooms and books. Your job now was to help him learn all about krypton and its past.

Clark darted forward opening the doors to the barn letting you and Martha in. You'd decided to let Martha help, she deserved it she was your surrogate mother now after all. Last week she'd started asking you to call her Ma too.

You moved towards the tarp covering the ship and pulled at it making the crinkling plastic fall the  inched forward pressing a hand to the door to the pod. You froze, flashes of the moment you'd been wrestled into the pod crossed your mind. The fear and agony of knowing you were going to be there end. Kill your parents. But it was to late, it had been too late then and it was too late now.

"Omega? Are you alright?" Clark said standing behind you curling one arm around your frame, the thick forearm resting over your tummy at your waist.

"Yes, its... The last time saw this was when" you trailed softly, you knew he could feel the fear and despair as you replayed those final moments with your family over and over. You hand been strong enough to hold on to your mother or father. You hadn't had enough grip to pull them into the ship with you, and your lack of strength cost them their lives.

Clark murred into your shoulder, his other hand stretching out smoothing his palm over yours pinning it you the surface of the door. He could taste the anxiety, the overwhelming frantic terror that had overcome you as your bond soured your memories haunted you. In the night you'd cry out for them and jolt awake sobbing your heart out. But you'd never spoke about what ha actually happened.

"D-do you want to talk about it?" He said quietly pressing his chest to your back needing to touch his sweet omega, the overwhelming drive to comfort you was almost painful.

"I don't think it would help... I shouldn't feel bad, its what i had been commissioned for. We all new our purpose" Clark paused. What? You had barely spoke about krypton, but from what you had mentioned he had a very... unimpressed view of it. The world sounded totalitarian and harsh everyone leading a hard life of duty. But he had never pushed you, he could tell you still mourned the planet despite its shortcomings.

"C-commissioned? Purpose? What do you mean?" Martha muttered moving closer to you both. She too was curious, her and Clark never thought they would have this chance, that they could learn everything about the planet of his birth or his race. But you were it. Their answers a living breathing kryptonian that had resided on krypton! You knew everything they wanted to know and probably more. They had been trying to hold back their questions it would seem that you may finally be up to answering them.

"Krypton is... Was like... North Korea? The one shut off from the world? But... stranger, its hard to explain without knowing our history we had our reasons and failures" you trailed off, you was unsure where to start, the troubled past of your race was woven into its present, well not present as today but... the final era of krypton. Everything leading up to the day you were shipped off from the planet. There were complications, twists and turns that you might not be able to explain properly.

"Please, I'd like to know" his voice was small and sweet, almost naïve in a sense. You got the feeling of a curious desperation from your bond. It made you grin, he was trying so hard to hold back for your sake, he truly was the perfect mate both considerate and loving, there was a gentleness about him that many alphas are said to have lacked. It must come from being raised on this planet, growing up around being so much weaker then he is that has moulded him to hold such a sweet sense of  nurturing. After all your mate was the golden son, a living breathing god on earth.

"I know... come I have books and artefacts in the cargo hold, I will give them to you and you can read" you said with a shy smile, you warm giddy feelings traveling along you bond making him murr once more managing to hit the all important melodious sound that was the unique soul song you'd both began naturally harmonizing. You stood and pulled from Clark and walking a small way down the ship. You pulled a hidden hatch open jerking a lever up and then pulled and twisted before releasing. You were quite impressed at how easily you'd done it. The suns rays had made you immensely strong already. Soon your be flying hopefully!

Clark hovered over you, making sure to stand in between the ship and his mother. A large gust of air and a whirring sound resounded and you stepped back. There were several clunk's and metallic creaks then the whole side of the craft pealed away like a set of curtains a thick corsetina of metal revealed a large cargo hold the three of you could just fit in.

There were shelves and cases piled high inside. All of krypton's most valuable artefacts, your whole history in the small stalagmite keys. Just like the one Clark had been sent to earth with. But these held information, schematics of incredible tech, medicines and encyclopaedia's. Not only about krypton but other planets and races that could cause a threat.

The there were the texts for your pups. The very same you had used to study as a child. You tip toed inside looking around feeling your heart break. This was all that was left of a whole civilization. A case of ceremonial robes, some crown jewels. Seeds for a few important plants- even a small rack with some mature plants that were being grown in a small self sustained pod. It was a true treasure trove.

"Wow this is? Incredible"

"Everything in here is... significant to our kind- here these are the books to start with they will tell you what krypton went through... a child's guide to our history" you said scooping up the books you'd studied and handed them to Clark. He moved slowly taking them from you running his fingers over the image on the book.

You walked off around a small shelf trying to find your chest- the things your parents had been allowed to pack for you. You had to find it and get over those emotional tugging in your chest. You had a lot to explain and had to have a clear head on your shoulders.

Martha stood close by the exit as she watched the two of you potter about the ship. It was both frightening and exhilarating for her. She was glad they had thought about all this, about giving both you and Clark things to remember krypton by. She moved to step behind Clark peeking at the book he was flicking through and was surprized to find she could read it. Everything was in perfect English.

"This is? Are they all in English?" She asked turning to you who was still wandering around becoming upset clearly looking for something in particular.

"Yes, they needed to make sure kal-clark would be able to read it" you said comeing around the other side of the shelves and stood beside them both. Clark turned around eyeing the book seeing what looked like propaganda filling the pages. It was disconcerting he was slowly becoming aware that krypton was not the magical place he had envisioned but a very draconian type of civilization. He didn't want to read pages of scripted drivel. He wanted the truth. He closed the book and eyed you then held to book out to you.

"I'd like to learn from you... if its not to much to ask love? These books will paint a rosey picture, I want to know the reality what people actually thought of our planet" he said still offering you the book. You held your breath debating for a moment, but finally breathed out a sigh and took the book from him. Agreeing.

You moved to the side of the ship and sat down letting your feet rest on the steps. Clark and Martha followed your lead taking seats beside you.

You kept quiet for a moment pondering over what was most important to start with. Your evolution. Then your genealogy, the great mistake and population crisis and the laziness that followed. The selfishness and finally his own story, the story of the golden sons escape and the new age. The final short 31 year age. And your delivery.

You opened the page showing some images of the first ever 'proper kryptonians' and held it open letting both Martha and Clark lean over to see. It was like a family story time.

"Okay... So kryptonians evolved just like humans did millions of years ago.  But unlike humans we kept more of our animal like instincts, we retained pack mentality" you said pointing out the different images of the evolution.

"Alpha and omega's?" Clark asked curiously as his eyes scanned the page. There was a list for each. Alpha were bigger and stronger, more dominant and protective, fierce and very potent. They were more economic and able to draw more power from little radiation. Omega petite, defensive, skittish and shy. Nurturing and extremely fertile. Submissive.

"Yes and betas they aren't an extreme like omega and alpha. They are more balanced but much less fertile. We have one mate, one soul bond once its made you cant deny it, but its also a problem." You flipped a few pages to the mate bond section where there were a few images of couples and some more little bullet points. Of which you covertly covered, they didn't need to know about sex or knots or heat yet... you would explain to Clark later... alone.

You flushed unable to stop your mind wandering. Images of you finally bonding with Clark, the undulating hips and breathy moans resounding in your ears. All leading to a great finale of his bite, his canines would prick your skin clamping down not only marking you but to hold you still as his cock swelled and pressed your walls tight trapping you to his huge frame. It was said to be painful and euphoric the feeling of absolute unity. Apparantly omegas can panic when their alpha knots them for the first time, the bite would make you freeze and still for him enough to fully penetrate you. He'd knot you for a long while tying you to him both mind body and soul as he saturated your insides claiming your body for himself.  You swallowed, nervously. You couldn't wait to finally be claimed, but you were also nervous. He was large even for an alpha and there was no doubt in your minds he was well proportioned.  

Clark noticed you begin to blush and squirm, your scent changing becoming both sweeter and musky he leant over you trying to peek at what you were hiding. He snuck a hand around behind you and tried pulling on your elbow to see what your were trying to hide.

"Oh no come on love what are you hiding there?" He teased and pulled tugging you closer making you whine and pull back.

"No that's nothing just its err our sex education and we don't need to go into that yet!" At the mention of sex Clark stiffened and released your elbow but remained wrapped around you.

"Oh right well then.. we know all about that so there no need to... explore that topic" Clark said flushing brightly but you paused... should you tell him?

"Well err you... you will have to there are.. some difference to having sex with... others then your mate, things are... different when your body knows it can impregnate its partner. So you need to err... I've got books for you to read in private" you flustered flicking your eyes quickly from Martha to your mate trying hard not to imagine him but ass naked stroking his cock readying himself to mount you. Clark didn't seem to realise you were becoming nervous and quickly spoke up slightly confused by the way you'd worded your statement. But then again he found a lot of the things you said strange. You wored things differently, and sometimes used the wrong words altogether! As much as krypton prepared you it sort of hadn't? Your English was good but... Not completely accurate.

"Different when you can impregnate? What's that supposed to mean, I've had sex... It was normal human sex" you whined and lowered your head feeling a little upset. Your mate almost sounded offended, like you'd undermined him or doubted his ability... You felt a little shamed over it, you hadn't intended to insult him. You turned to him your panic of displeasing him washed away your nerves of having the sex talk. You rested a hand on his thigh squeezing it before beginning  to explain that you wasn't belittling him it was just genetics.

"You cannot conceive with anyone other then your soul mate... It just doesn't happen. Is impossible, we were taught that its because your genes are only compatible with that of your mate, your other half. Pairings aren't always omega and alpha either, they can be anyone with anyone, but most alphas have an omega" you said trying not to go into detail but Clark merly blinked at you nodding wanting you to continue as he soaked up every word.

"And there are... Things that... Happen during sex with your soul mate, your err... Anatomy changes... And err expands? I suppose? Our bodies do what they must to... To try and... Conceive.." you finally stuttered through the images your mind conjured. Mind drifting to all the uncomfortable classes full of giggling girls and unamused teachers explaining knotting and ejaculation with a huge image of a penis on the board... You flushed word on the school playground used to be the size of a balled fist was the size of your mates knot. You swallowed eyeing Clarks hands, though not balled up he had then curled up loosely. You clenched, for some reason the thought of him being such a large male made you very ,very excited and anxious. The larger a male the more chance there was at having a successful mating because he would be deeper and nothing would escape. Fuck.

You shook your head swallowing dryly. Now was not the time, thoughts like that were dangerous and could trigger a heat, something you didn't want to happen until he was aware of what was to come. You wanted him to be fully aware of heats, ruts knotting the full process before in sighting anything. He was still immensely stringer than you, if he were to have you now and panic whislt knotting he could pull free and tear you. And you didn't want that.

"soo i get a... Super erection or something?" he said with a huge smile both teasing and boasting, sitting up straighter unknowingly posturing, preening like a little peacock as humans would say. You made to reply flushing a deeper red, beginning to feel a tad dizzy with all this blood rushing to your head. But luckily Martha interrupted and waved her hands making a slicing motion trying to literally cut the conversation short.

"Right okay! Enough of all that" she said managing to move your arms that were still covering the very crude generic drawings of an alphas cock, you moved letting the human turn the page which lead to the next stage of your peoples history.

"But Ma?!" Clark complained eyes loosing their amused shimmer only for him to pout at the human clearly upset that he wont be having a full sex talk with you. And you couldn't be more thankfull because you only had books and a school sex education to go by, you'd never actually seen a real one before, so didn't really have any grounds to be teaching anyone anything about them. Least of all your much older, more experiance alpha mate.

"But nothing Clark, she said she has a book so you can read the damn book! There will be no hanky panky anytime soon do you understand me?" she scolded in a final motherly tone making you giggle into your hand. Your alpha was very cute when he pouted, blue eyes wide and a perfect downturned frown on his lips, the pink bottom lip pressed forward in a sweet gesture. How the perfectly masculine sharp angular male could be both stunning and adorable was beyond you. But he was just perfect.

"Yes Ma" he sighed looking more and more disheartened but then nudged your side and sent you a wink before raising his brows suggestively. You squeaked and looked to the book in your lap once more feeling your ears go red under his provocative gaze. He huffed a quiet chuckle and purred low in his chest. You felt it the warm yet prickly sensation of your mate. Is was playfull, like when someone lightly ghosts a finger over your inner arm? A slight tickling sensation that made your skin goose bump and tingle. You knew this feeling well, you had been pleased to know your alpha wasn't all work and no play. He was actually a very fun loving man, he liked teasing you playfully and always managed to make you laugh or blush. He enjoyed you being both happy and flushed they seemed to be his favoured reactions and he would go out of his way to cause them.

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

Martha had said he just seemed happier, younger like a little teenager again. But this time without all the angst. Like you had somehow drawn away the worries he had. Apparantly as he took the mantle of superman he had lost himself along the way. He wasn't cruel or mean but he was stressed. Martha had said he was beginning to question himself, ask if it was worth it, if anything was worth it anymore. He took on more and more responsibility and was working himself into the ground. But now he wasn't?

He had you to come home too, he had something more to fight for. She said Clark saw you as his reward in a sense. You were his future, the life he had always wanted but could never hope for. Martha said you'd saved him. You wasn't sure if you really believed her, how could you save him when all you have done is sleep and refuse to eat anything other then fruit.

"Clark you might be more convincing if you wiped that smirk off your face... I'm serious, let y/n settle before risking any children okay?" the woman deadpanned making him shrug and chuckle at her.

"Aw that's no fun I already promised. Didn't I sweetheart?" he teased still eyeing you managing to ignore his mothers scathing look as he tried to get you to look at him again. And like an idiot you did spare him a quick glance, well you thought it was quick but somehow he managed to wink at you again blowing you an over exaggerated kiss.

"Clark Joseph Kent!" Martha snipped quickly a much firmer warning in place making him sigh and roll his eyes at his mothers use of his full name. He could see her point but he had to admit he was a little put out with her.. His mother had an issue with your age, even though your twenty two in earth terms you still did look the part of a teen all be it a nineteen year old, but teen none the less. She was uncomfortable with the idea of him bedding you and wanted you both to wait. But Clark didn't have an issue with it, you were his omega. He was your alpha and neither you or he were humans. So why live your lives by human rules? Besides the paperwork was all set up. Legally your not a minor here you just look young, many women did.

"Yes, yes fine, no sex yet jeez" he acquiesced giving in for the moment not needing another lecture. As much as he loved his mother; and he truly did. But his sex life was none of her business and he will fuck you when you were ready and willing and there was nothing that will get in the way of that. Not even the woman who raised him.

"Glad to hear it son. Oh don't give me that look you know it makes sense... Now dear why don't you continue, both Clark and i would love to here about your history" Martha scolded then rolled her eyes at her supposed 'adult' son who was pouting. You smiled uneasy but nodded. You learned quickly that Martha ruled the roost, but it was still strange for you to watch. You'd been raised to see Kal as a god- a saviour and your races true hope. Watching the man you'd all but worshipped be scolded by a human was... confusing. But you just let it be, you were realising humans were much more complicated then you were lead to belive.

"yes of course..." you paused clearing your throat quickly looking at the open page then flipped it seeing the next images. The ships, and graph of births declining... the population crisis, the beginning of the mighty kryptonians demise.

"When our people began scouting the galaxy less and less found their soulmates because we were soo scattered and so pairings dropped and so did births which began effecting economy and age gap parings suffered because their mates werent being born. Suddenly things took a nose dive mates weren't being born families were suddenly being cut short and many bloodlines died off... Over sixty percent of noble houses were wiped out in three decades, suicides were on the rise there was no point to life if you couldn't be happy or have a family" you explained flipping another page letting the both of them get their fill. Both pages were full of house crests and a little information on what each one represented, what their houses did for krypton notable mentions and such.

You flipped again this time showing images of the amniotic chambers. Huge glass towers that grew 'artificial' kryptonians. It was a leap forward in science. They had learned to play god, create life without any comprises. Your own eyes scanned the image a small foetus in a sack and a few around it larger and more developed. It was how your own life began.

"We turned our attention to a amniotic chambers, scientists and doctors could suddenly make anyone children! Mates or not. There was a huge baby boom but, it did nothing for the planet or its people" you explained slowly even saying it sounded strange now that you were older, but then again you'd been taught that this had been wrong. This it was the mistake that had started krypton's downfall. You'd been raised in the old ways, with old values.

"Over time it was seen as primitive to actually seek out your mate and birth a child naturally even having sex became pointless. Why go through that pain when you could have one made and delivered to you when its born?"

"So they were farming babies?" Martha asked incredulously unable to fathom such a thing. It was far fetched, the idea to make fake children? To be able to have a child without carrying them or birthing them but they were your own flesh and blood?

"Yes Ma, but more then that... when we turned our back on natural birth and mates we lost a lot of ourselves and had to use a codex to give the new generations traits and keep some semblance of our race instincts... but even that became political all birthed children had to become more beneficial to society. Loyal, strong, intelligent, beautiful, compassionate, nurturing. And at the same time you could choose the look of your child, their sex, their presentation." You explained voice getting smaller as you spoke it was uncomfortable to talk about parents could determine everything about you. Your sex, pigmentation personality, hell your parents could choose specific moles and birthmarks of they wanted a late 'morphing' session a few weeks before you were born.

"Presentation?" Martha frowned not fully understanding. You nodded to her sparing a glance before quickly looking away. It was strange explaining anything that remotely eluded to pairings and mating with her. She was a human and didn't understand. You found it unnerving, everyone just knew these things back home.

She didn't understand it and sometimes it frustrated her making her snip at you and Clark. She didn't mean to but it was just hard for her to fathom a race evolving and still retain some animal primitive instincts. Humans didn't keep much of theirs, the only ones you were aware of was their self preservation- their undeniable need to stay alive for as long as possible apart from that? They had escaped everything else. The bottom line was humans didn't have soul mates and Kryptonians did, and no matter how much the woman wished Clark was a human, he wasn't and he never would be. Martha had been able to ignore it on a day to day basis. To all intents and purposes when Clark wasn't in his suit she could pretend he was normal. Until you came along.

Not that you think she didn't like you, because she loved you, you were sure of it. It was just, sometimes Martha had to look away as you and Clark bonded. She didn't see mates, she saw her adult son fawning over a love struck teen.

"Will they be alpha, beta, omega or a new non-type" you hummed quietly trying not to dwell on the subject not wanting to upset her. Martha drew in a deep breath and nodded to you soaking up the information. You could see she was trying, she wanted to understand it was difficult for her.

"So if I wanted a blue eyed blonde boy I just had to say?" She said veering off topic slightly wanting to move on swiftly but didn't want to out right say 'lets talk about something else'

"Sort off, eyes can only be dark. Blue, green, pink, grey and amber eyes were traits only found in true borns, these traits died out. Everyone had a dark brown or black eyes occasionally you could have a very dark blue or green but bearly noticeable"  you brushed over the topic as quickly as you could whislt still giving a few extra details. Clark grinned at you and made a passing comment of 'that's why my eyes fascinated you soo much?' Both he and Martha chuckled as the comment made you flush and nod slightly. It was true, you'd been enamoured with his eyes never having seen blue before... and they were soo blue it was like looking into the purest cleanest pools of water your ever seen! Gorgeous and vibrant. it had been a little ongoing tease of Clarks commenting that you were 'staring again' when ever he caught you gazeing at his azure crystal clear eyes.

"Krypton was quickly overpopulated and began draining our planets resources quicker, then they looked to the core... the beating heart of the planet" you said turning the page adamant you were not going to be caught up eyeing him again for the hundredth time today.

"And they drained it?" Clark said leaning mover your shoulder looking at the diagram of krypton that briefly explained how the core was depleted and what a calamity it was.

"Yes. It took a millennia but we bled our planet dry... It became a dry desolate place but had huge glistening cities! Technology you could only dream of! Krypton was the envy of many other planets, our military might alone ended wars in days..." Clark frowned. Military? So not only did krypton become a harsh dictatorship they had been going to war? Enough that they were a feared adversary?

You winced as Clarks face darkened at the mention of war. He didn't like fighting and killing but krypton? In its hay day was the front runner. Its military protected the planet but also dominated. It you wanted to win a war it was the kryptonians you wanted on your team, your soldiers were bred for war, just like the omegas were bred for breeding. Clark growled, eyes skimming the page that praised and boasted about the great many wars that they had won, the enemies they had crushed. You swallowed and flipped a few pages quickly skipping the small chapter on the military past.

You skimmed the next page quickly, there were no images on the next few pages. You paused remembering when you'd first worked studied this chapter. You'd been around eight years old, sitting in Mrs Nirn's class chewing your pen as you read ahead zoning out.

You had wanted to understand why things were so different from what your parents upbringing had been. You wanted to know why there were no little boys in your class, why were the lights off? Why couldn't you have a little sister like your father? Everytime you asked an adult they always vaguely mentioned 'things aren't how they were before' but no one had ever answered your follow up questions 'before what? What happened?'  And this was the chapter that explained everything, that shed light on your peoples recent history.

"Love? Mate are you okay?" Clark asked worriedly watching as you seemed to drift off into your own little world. You jumped and faced him as his warm palm met with your back, slow soothing circles rubbing your tense form slowly. You smiled uneasily and nodded to him before taking a deep breath. He had to know, it was your duty to teach him what happened. It was your place to enlighten him on his own importance, he had a right to know how he got to earth.

"W-We began racing towards calamity there was huge protests, people realised we were not going to last and there would be no escape. But the government decided to call a meeting over it- Jor El decided to plead the council to stop the mining but he was ignored the meeting was just for show a ruse to try and quell the masses... Then Lara began pleading with them to think of the consequences" you said quickly finding your voice again recounting the events that began his own story, the role his parents had played in the prolonged survival of the planet and that ultimately lead you to him.

"My parents?" He said slowly recognising their names once more. You nodded glancing to Martha, you didn't really want to keep bringing up your alphas birth parents in front of the woman you didn't want her to get upset or think she was any less significant. Lara may have birthed your mate. But Martha had raised him, shaped him into the glorious gentle and caring male that he was. Martha seemed to know you were worrying over upsetting her and smiled encouragingly before  placing a reassuring hand on your back below Clarks patting you sweetly.

"I'd like to know too dear, I want to know about the people who gave me my son" she cooed slowly making you bite your lip and take a deep breath muttering a meek 'okay if your sure' under your breath.

"They were strong and kind, serious though and realistic. They both avidly protested about the continued abuse of the planet and warned about the imminent destruction of krypton... it wasn't until to coup that anyone new why."

"Why? What was the reason?" Clark said eagerly paying you his full attention. He was both excited and anxious about learning of his actual parents, everything he thought about krypton seemed to be wrong. On a whole he'd convinced himself that his home planet was almost a mythical place that was good and pure perfect! But it was the complete opposite, he didn't want his fantasy of perfect parents to be shattered too. And there was always the fear he'd been abandoned simply because he was an unwanted child or defective in some way.

"She was pregnant with the first natural son of krypton. They didn't want you to be born just to die after a few weeks of life. You were born in your family home. No doctors or machinery, nothing but your mother and father." Clark let out a breath soaking in the information. Zod was right. Jor was telling the truth? He truly was the first natural born kryptonian? It was there in black and white! Not hear say! He didn't have much time to relish in the relief as you continued quickly.

"A few days after your birth Zod made his move to attack the council, his move was partly spurred on by the civil unrest and protests all over the planet." Another few pages were turned as you bypassed all the nitty gritty details of the coup and violence, the protests  and downfall of many proud houses dragged out of their homes, the riots and looting as the military began fighting internally and the police force all but abandoned their duty.

"My birthday?" Clark said lightly dragging his fingers over an image of himself. A still taken from the footage of his birth, he was in a small oval crib with a blanket over his waist and lower half. Beside him was Lara and Jor watching over him. And at the top of the page a date. Both in kryptonian and earths calendar.

"May? I was born in May? Ma look!" He said sniffing quietly looking at the page in awe. That was him, his parents! They were there! He gazed at the image excitedly, he never new his real birthdate, his parents had guessed but here it was. The exact date! His actual real birthday. He wasn't an Aries. He was a Taurus. He never believed in star signs but, somehow he felt better knowing.

"I see that son, you were perfect and so tiny~" she said slightly tearful herself. This was bittersweet, she had to listen and watch as her son, the boy she raised found out the truth of how he came to her. She didn't doubt he loved her but she was always frightened of him leaving her behind in a way, the terror of him forgetting her and choosing someone else replacing her was almost too much. But at the same time Martha owed a lot to the couple that had entrusted her with their son, she would be lying if she wasn't curious about them and the reason Clark was here.

"Your father in an effort to protect you entered the amniotic chamber and stole the codex. He was hunted for it but by the time anyone could intervene or arrest him it was to late. He had sealed the codex inside of his son. He was the final kryptonian so should be able to carry all traits." You explained turning the next page seeing the image of the chamber Jor ha infiltrated. The codex sitting proudly in place.

"He.. he risked his life? To save me?" Clark breathed out barely whispering the words as he leant forward clasping his hands together tightly. You faltered and looked to him shocked, he hadn't known? You all new that Kal was sent to earth with a stalagmite key with his fathers conscious, had Clark not managed to activate it? Here were ships all over this planet, kryptonians had tried to settle here but... For some reason they just couldn't seem to survive for long. No one knows why, connection was lost.

"He... Gave his life to save you. Zod was the one who caught onto your fathers plan and... He confronted him and your mother. Tried to kill you, your existence; the proof of a natural born was... it would have destroyed his cause... it would have proved him wrong" you uttered slowly unsure how you could tell him the truth without upsetting him, it was a delicate matter. Clark ushered you closer managing to tuck you under his arm holding you as close as he could to his side, then began murring out at you as he felt the nerves, the tangled feelings of fear , grief regret and sorrow. Each one coiling around the other making for an uncertain overbearing pull.

You didn't mean to but you were tugging the bond, looking for approval. Nervously searching for some inclination that he was alright. Prodding at him tentatively trying to peak at his feelings. But you were still uncertain of how to do it without being pushy? On krypton it was said to be unseemly to pry at your mate, normally things flowed freely to forcefully take a look deeper into your mate was... rude and could be construed as not trusting your mate.

Clark didn't know that though. Was it bad? Cruel of you to omit that little social detail so he wouldn't be annoyed at you for it? Was it manipulating? Clark hummed leaning his head ontop of yours, resting his cheek on your crown and placed a sweet kiss to your hair.

"I know... I- he told me on the ship when I found out about krypton... when he told me of mates" he said calmly. You released a low whine nodding to him purring up at him as your shoulders relaxed, slumping once more in relief. You'd been wound up over that. It wasn't like his father would be alive now anyway, but telling him of his families demise wasn't really something you took pleasure in.

"O-oh.. okay well then...err your father was a warrior and fought him, he gave your mother enough time for her to launch your ship. Zod finally over came your father but it was too late, you were almost out of the atmosphere." You swallowed steeling yourself as you continued your tale, recounting the incredible events that had taken place, changing history and the fate of your race.

"Zod instructed all his units to shoot you down, but your mother had used a incredibly illegal amount of resources to make sure your ship's boosters and armed defences were at peak and you made it out"

"So That's really how I left? During all that? I thought Jor had dramatized it... but he hadn't and.." Clark trailed off in thought. He was telling the truth he had been a little sceptical, he couldn't help it he had over thought it afterwards. Managing to think himself into doubting Jor's story picking at it, almost convincing himself the story was a little too convenient.

"It got worse, zod and his men were sent to the phantom zone and your mother was tried for treason. But everything stopped when the footage came through." Martha who had remained quiet listening to you patiently taking in the new information.

"Of what?"

"Clarks birth, it was the first time in centuries anyone had managed to naturally birth a son, a true born son. It was big news and that when the council began to listen, really listen" you shrugged unsure how to explain the magnitude of what Clarks birth actually meant. Unless you were a krypton native you just didn't get it. You  finally closed the book and held it in your lap eyeing both Clark and Martha.

"Then the laws changed krypton accepted its fate, it would die. But not without hope for its race to continue. And that's how we ended up as we were... the draconian backwards planet." You didn't go into detail, over the past few weeks you'd let things slip. Martha and Clark both shared a look. You were almost ashamed of your home. The differences between the totalitarian measures your people resorted to were frowned upon in this country. You felt stupid in a sense. You knew it was only natural to be slightly out of touch on this new home but? You just hadn't realised how much. The freedom and basic human right's you'd been denied! You were taught to belive in Kal. He was effectively used as propaganda, as a reward. If your good and obedient he will accept you. If not? Then you will fail both him and your race.  

"The council watched you used as much energy as it could spare to watch you grow. Then you presented! Alpha, just as we'd hoped. Overnight everything changed again, we had hope and direction. Children were commissioned once more females only, and only women that have a recessive omega gene were allowed to have a child..." you reiterated the fact that females were the only gender allowed to be created. It was the most important rule of your people in the end. Only a female omega could replenish a race.

"But couldn't you make them omega? You said you could choose things like that?" Martha asked frowning not following. You cursed and shook your head you knew you'd confuse them somehow by leaving something out. It was difficult trying to remember all the details about the last chaotic years of krypton.

"No, with the codex gone we couldn't control the genes as much, we could force the child to be female but that was about it. They tried but it was hard creating a definite omega no one could really tell until we presented many were betas or the non type there were very few of us. It was just pot luck." And it was pot luck, out of one hundred girls only fifteen to seventeen would be omega. If the percentage were over that in a generation then it was seen as a 'bumper crop'

"We were made and raised to be your omega. Every one of us was taught about earthling ways. Taught about how to birth and raise pups."

"You were raised to be my mate?" Clark said frowning. He found it strange. You bit your lip chewing on it. You debated on how much he really needed to know, because  honestly now you were here? And experienced earth first hand, now you'd met and spent time with your alpha. You understood how... creepy it would be? But then again if you lied he could realise you had when he reads more of the books here. You drew another breath releasing your lip from between your teeth and hissed quietly deciding it would be best to tell him.

"Yes. Our whole education was based on you and was meant to prepare us for life on earth. You have to understand, you were worshipped like a god. You had the abilities of our earliest ancestors." You began trying to dull down the in depth education you'd received about his upbringing and family. Yet still make him understand just how ingrained he was in your upbringing.

"You are? The epitome of the perfect kryptonian,  proof of how great we once were! Your the perfect male. Being your omega was-is the greatest honour any kryptonian could have. And the only way to survive, only Kal's omega would have the last of the cores power used on her to move her off planet. Her saftey was the most important thing" you explained finally petting him see just how incredibly precious he was. His eyes grew wide as he truly began to understand. This wasn't all talk, and you hadn't been joking when you called him the golden son god among men. That's what you all believed. He was worshipped. It was a sobering thought.

Clark tightened his hold of you hand trembling, palm a little sweaty against your hip. He made to speak but didn't seem to be able to find any words. He couldn't make a sound. It was too surreal for him. Some called him a god here, but he was able to just brush it off, ignore it as an exaggeration. But on krypton? They had meant it. Literally.

"So every girl was raised to... Become Clark's wife? To have children? That's it? No ambitions of your own just... grow up and have babies?" Martha uttered quietly but there was an underlying sadness, she seemed to be offended for you. Which you found peculiar, here the lines of gender were blurred. Krypton raised females to breed, then once they present they were taught other skills to be useful and pay their way.

"Yes. It was... Just how things were, we were taught how to raise children and what to expect with Kal... taught to cook and earthling ways to an extent mainly laws and language but mostly our education was about history and child rearing." You said of handedly trying not to incite anger from the woman. You knew it was hard for her to imagine your homeland. It was harsh and soo different from here. There were regimes like krypton on this planet but they were seen as hostiles and stood against everything this country stood for.

"How did they know? I mean with you? How did they know your were mine"  Clark said quickly managing to intercept what he believed to be a long rant from his mother. She had already made up her mind about krypton, she hadn't said it but she didn't need to her face said it all.

"Your mark apparently we share a mark which is unique to our bond and yours had activated. The council called all the omegas that had presented and searched for your mark. I was the one to have it. I was your mate" you said vaguely to be honest you didn't even understand it properly yet, it was one of the things you were hoping to find out looking through these books.

"And then after finding it they sent you here?" Clark uttered quietly. He was soo wrapped up in loving you, understanding these instincts and just basking in your presence. That he hadn't really stopped to think about the actual journey, surely it had been your choice? Especially when the cost was soo great. But there was a foreboding in your demeanour it left a heavy cold feeling in his gut.

"Yes. My parents- they had five minuets to say good bye and load me into the ship. The council didn't want to cause a panic and wait, I was wrestled into the ship by my father" you spoke weakly. You hadn't thought much about it, you had nightmares. But that was it, you tried avoiding it, blanking it out... not unlike the adults as you were growing up. In your head there was here and now on earth with your alpha and then before. Before became the codename for life on krypton. Before meant your parents, the rules, pain and fear! Before meant anxiety and death.

And now? Now was the time to let them know. Sure they understood the logistics. You were sent here to your mate. But they didn't know the actual story- the chain of events that lead to your arrival. And for the first time since getting here you needed to get it off your chest. Let it out and be done with this chapter finally let go of the fear and guilt you'd bottled up.

"I was terrified, and I fought but? Not hard enough I couldn't hold on to them either of them! The told me that they loved me and everything would be okay but it wasn't- I was about to kill them... I just" your bottom lip wobbled and your voice came out  strained, you fought to get the next words out. Clark murred and tried to comfort you, feeling the fear and anxiety. The guilt and devastation in your bond was... it sickened him feeling such sorrow. But it did no good, he tugged you up and sat you on his lap curling around you, holding you to his chest desperately wanting to sooth you. Ever ounce of him was trembling the need to cheer you up and tend to you was astounding.

But even through all that need and instinct, he knew he couldn't. You were mourning, not only you parents but your race, way of life, your home, your planet! It would be a heavy blow to anyone least of all his delicate young omega. He didn't speak, he didn't want to interrupt, you needed to get this out. He needed to know what happened so he could help you.

"Then my dad... He was the one to strap me i-in... he was the strongest there... the others couldn't have held me down long enough. The ship closed... locked and that was it I was off to earth." Silence reigned as your new family took in what you'd said. They hadn't realised how you'd come here... Clark thought you came willingly, happily boarded the ship to get here. He hadn't even considered your fear and the weight on your shoulders.

"I felt it. The planet die. All the teachers said that you'd be asleep before it happened but I wasn't. It was the loudest and most frightening thing I'd ever heard. It rocked the ship, then the debris... it was like a monsoon, a deafening rain storm of rocks the earth and foundation of krypton itself." Your took a deep breath leaning against Clark pressing your back into him twisting your head slightly resting on his shoulder trying to tuck your face into his neck. Seeking him as your only comfort. .

Clark was finding it heard to hear. He was ecstatic you were here, he didn't care the cost. Now he felt like a bastard. He couldn't imagine hearing and entire planet die. And entire race. You must have felt so scared and alone. He wasn't sure he could handle that type of trauma. Its one thing to be alone hoping you had a homeland. Knowing for certain? That was another thing entirely. Martha hummed watching as Clark got upset and scooted closer placing her hand on your knee while throwing her arm around Clarks back rubbing slowly.

"I p-panicked and tried to change direction, tried rerouting the ships pre-set destination... But it couldn't find krypton. The planet just? Wasn't there anymore, it was so surreal. Instead it continued on to earth, and the onboard computer said I was too panicked to travel at hyper speed so it put me to sleep... the next thing I remember is waking up here... it felt like minuets but had been six months." You ended. It didn't seem right, such a long historic tale ending with you walking up on an alien planet.

All those failures and mistakes rolling one after the other after the other. All the power hungry fools and scientific breakthroughs for nothing. In the end your race had come full circle. An alpha and his omega. Two intertwined souls. The very last paired kryptonians. It was almost ironic, for all the advances and medical wonders in the end nature triumphed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry that you had to face that alone... if I'd known I would have come and got you, I would have never let krypton die-" Clark started apologising holding you tighter dipping his head to yours resting his nose on your hair breathing you in swaying you sweetly.

"No. Krypton had to. We couldn't risk another Zod on your new planet. Your abilities in an evil power hungry kryptonian? It would have been chaos. We knew that we had to start fresh but cohabit a planet. Not rule it. That's why we needed kryptonians to be birthed here." You cut him off quickly. He didn't have to feel responsible,  krypton made their bed and they could lie in it. They strayed too far and had failed, destroyed themselves.

"Zod came. He tried to take over but I... I killed him, id found a ship and my father explained a few things to me, told me about my mate that would be sent to me I looked for you in zods men. But he laughed saying id never find you- the final straw that made me kill him was when he laughed saying you were dead." Clark hissed voice becoming dark as he remembered Zod. The cruelty the man had, the utter madness was something that ha7nted him. He feared that was the true nature of kryptonians, that one day he would become another Zod.

"You did the right thing. Zod was corrupt. The codex can sometimes corrupt a child and feed them too much. His loyalty and strength were... maddening. He was meant to be a soldier he wanted to be a dictator, even on krypton. That's what the coup was about. He was trying to overthrow a high ruling government" you said before slowly untangling yourself from your mate. He released you, hands still hovering as you stood and brushed yourself off. You sniffled and wiped your eyes before excusing yourself scaling the small steps of the ship. Clark made to follow you as you disappeared into the ship needing a few moments alone. Martha held him shaking her head understanding you needed a little breathing room.

You couldn't help it, the feelings came back, the terror and anxiety panic and self loathing. It was nauseating, you'd not really managed to come to terms with the deaths of your family, deaths that you caused. You'd managed to ignore it? Being in a completely new environment you'd almost convinced yourself you were on a trip, a holiday and that your parents were at home safe and sound. It probably wasn't healthy but its what had managed to get you through all this. But saying it outloud? Recounting it had brought everything to life.

You huffed rubbing your eyes as they teared up, seeing all this in here was hitting home. The priceless artefacts and wealth of knowledge surrounding you only solidifying the fact krypton was gone. That it was your duty to keep all this heritage alive. Your job to birth a race and find a way to integrate into this alien world. It was a terrifying prospect, soo much responsibility for a single young female. And you had to bare it alone along side the guilt of being your planets demise.

You quickly wiped at your face sniffling as you felt Clarks approach. Ducking down you looked into the satchel that you recognised as your fathers old pack. You jumped as Clark crouched behind you pressing two heavy hands on your shoulders massaging them before dragging you back to him. You sighed hanging your head as he plastered you to his front,  strong arms slowly winding around your waist.

"Its not your fault, you couldn't have saved them." He said softly pressing a chaste kiss to your neck breathing you in, scenting you. It was something else that was strange at first but Clark had mastered quickly. He noticed that if he gave in to some of these... instincts he could calm you down. Scenting you, coupled with touching you coddling and holding you close seemed to be the most effective way to sooth you when things began to get too much. When you got overwhelmed, but he held back in front of his mother. She was still uneasy about the age difference.

"I could have fought harder-" you whined feeling yourself tremble, the severity of what happened the reality of it crushing you. You began huffing, taking deeper breaths holding them trying to fight the fear and sobs. You couldn't afford this self pity you had a job. A duty to your people and you cant fail! You wont because then it was for nothing-

"Omega." Clarks voice grunted, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was strange, he sounded firm and stern. A real alpha reprimanding, commanding you. You shivered. It was both frightening and sexy. Perfect. You peered back at him, a few tears escaping followed by a single mewl as you tried to stop yourself from crying.

"Nothing you said would have stopped them. Nothing. From everything you've told me, the one thing that stands out is krypton did as it pleased. A tiny thing like you never would have stood a chance" he cooed down at you somehow maintaining his authority but in a gentler way. The light growl almost soothed you, it sounded like his murr but deeper and had more conviction.

"I... I know but it... It wasn't meant to be me. Wasn't meant to happen, they always said it was the end but?" You tried to get out the feelings but for some reason you couldn't put words to them. It came in waves, as ecstatic as you were to be here with your mate, relish in the presence of your incredible alpha. You also wanted your parents, your home and all the things you'd been brought up with. You were selfish, you'd wanted it all.

"No one ever really believes a world can end love" he breathed out slowly. Still pressing close to you sniffing and kissing at you, tucking his hands below your tshirt rubbing the warm palms on your flat tummy making you relax.

"So what's this then?" Clark said motioning to the satchel you were fiddling with. You cast a glance to him and smiled sadly.

"My dads... they were allowed to pack things before we got tested... just incase and...They didn't have long to gather things- god I hope there's a photo! And my-" you were cut off as he chuckled and moved closer hooking a finger around the opening tugging it lightly.

"Jurashnir stuffie?" He said making you flush and gape. You were surprised he even remembered. But it warmed your heart that he did remember such a small detail, a passing comment really. It showed he really did listen and take in what you said, even if it was silly anxious prattle.

"Yes that" you hummed face glowing in a sweet blush. And began pulling the bag open fully digging you hand inside.

"I hope she packed it too" Clark chuckled holding the bag open wider so you could see more of the things inside. You already recognized some things, your mothers perfume she used on the rarest of occasions. Your fathers military id pin some clothing and jewellery that they treasured the hair ornaments your mother wore on their ceremonial binding. Then there was the all important photo, you closed your eyes glimpsing the image. No, it was too soon for that, you couldn't look at their smiling faces yet, not after killing them.

Then you felt it. Your stuffie the one that had been with you since you were brought home as a new babe. You yanked it out eyes watering as you pulled out the toy. Clark eyed it with a smile, it was like a chinchilla small round and cute, huge eyes and adorable. You held it close overwhelmed by it, which was stupid, it was a bloody toy, but brought so much comfort. You nuzzled it, rubbing the tiny ear between your fingers like you had thousands of times before.

"I- sorry it..." you breathed out quickly pulling the toy to your lap twiddling the fur on it humming. Your cheeks glowed feeling embarrassed from being so childish, getting so caught up in having your treasured toy with you.

"No. Don't apologise" your alpha was quick to argue with a wide grin eyeing the toy himself with a relieved expression.

"I'm glad you have something from home to comfort you" and he did. He wanted to help make you more at home here, and if a little stuffie did that he wont complain. It will have pride of place on the bed both here and when you finally return to Metropolis with him.

You smiled slowly bringing to toy to your chest clutching it close with one hand almost afraid of releasing it now you'd been reunited. You handt realised just how much it meant to you until you face not having him. Your other hand felt around inside the bag and come across a small book. You frowned and pulled it out then flushed seeing what it was. Who had popped that in your bag?! Surely not your parents, there must be a mistake.

You flipped it open and froze seeing your fathers broken English scribbled on the inner cover. A note to Kal.

'This help read. Kal be happy with mate, love her make family' you drew a deep breath and smiled nodding understanding what he meant. Be happy with each other, become a family.

"Ah and Clark... here this is our erm... my dad left this to you mating book... it has everything you need to know about... that" you uttered handing him the book. He froze not expecting to have anything from your parents. He looked over the words and smiled. It was your fathers blessing something he thought he'd go without. Before you could stop him he was flicking through the book scanning the pages and flushing slightly before laughing boisterously drawing his mother into the ship finally giving into her curiosity.

"Well I'll be damned you actually gave me a guide book for sex! Does it have pictures?~" he smirked closing the book and levelling you with a playful stare. You shrunk back squeezing the stuffie in your arms feeling embarrassed pursing  your lips cutely.

"Oh god I don't err? Look just read it okay! Alone!" You growled at him as he still laughed finding it amusing just how flustered you got. He winked at you before quirking a brow at you then peered at the book once more.

"Oh so it does have pictures! Hmm? Must be my lucky day being given free porn"  he exclaimed teasing you happy that you'd seemed to cheer up, even if you were now a little sheepish.

"I-its not porn! Its realistic sex education!" You said flapping at him well aware of the critical look Martha was casting you both.

"Well sweet heart trust me when I say I don't need much tutoring... actually I do... I need lots! But I'm better at practical~ perhaps you could squeeze in a little one on one session?" He purred leaning closer pushing his chest against you humming biting his lip nuzzling you. You shuddered and stuttered tripping over your words. It was at that moment Martha jumped into action.

"OKAY! Right that's enough lessons for one day Casanova, we can leave that conversation there" she huffed standing behind him placing her hands on her hips taking a stern stance.

"What? But ma i was just about-"

"Oh i know very well what you were just about to do son! Behave. And be glad she gave you a raunchy book." The human countered none to impressed with the way Clark seemed to be turning into a cheeky horndog.

"Its just sex education... not raunchy" you muttered quietly hanging your head with a sigh still glowing brightly at the fact everyone seemed to think you'd given him porn.

"I believe you sweety... Come on Clark lets get a move on, we will sort one shelf today then we can relax in the garden" she assured you before ordering Clark nudging him with a foot making him pout.

"But ma?" He whined suddenly transforming from eager alpha to leading child that made you giggle. He really was cute, cuter then you'd thought he'd be.

"No buts. You want to take this stuff to your little club house today don't you?" She snipped prodding him harder with her foot with a smirk.

"Fortress Ma. Its a fortress" Clark huffed rolling his eyes sending you a wink only to yip as Martha toe punched him a little harder in warning.

"Mm hmm call it what you want, when a son builds himself a hidden little mancave and only lets certain friends in, its a clubhouse. No matter how big or high-tech it is" she drolled making you chuckled at the two. It was nice having the motherly woman around even if she was struggling with the new situation you and her son were in.

"Its not a... whatever, come on you lets sort through this shelf first" Clark finally caved and stood helping you up deciding to pick his battles... he had to keep his mother sweet if he was going to convince her that you could move in with him, be it his room here or his appartment in Metropolis.

[oingo233]

The Beast Who Cried Man Ch3

Summary: People are dying in the small village of Pivot; your home. Murders are becoming more common than not, and no one can find out why. The danger seems to only grow with each passing day. In a town controlled by fear, your people blame the mystery man who lives in the castle miles into the woods. You’ve all heard the low moans of agony coming from the house and flashes of green and bright lights…you’ve all seen the magic. The villagers call him The Beast. One day, when picking flowers and apples for your family you stumble upon a body. The town gathers in a panic, deciding that the only solution would be human sacrifice to mollify the beast himself. As you were the one to find the bodies, deemed bad luck, you are sent off into the woods to meet this beast…

Regulus Black x reader (reader is neutral)

*Part One* Part Two*

Warnings: mentions of brief gore and death (if you would like me to trigger warning anything else, please let me know)

Authors Note: I swear it will start to pick up after this one! I have put a lot of thought into this storyline, so I promise it will all come together in due time (which may be a lot of time considering how awful I am at posting-)

Word Count: 1.1k

Chapter Three

Home is Where the People Are

Regulus Black. I repeated the name not aloud, but in my thoughts, hoping it would make sense. Regulus Black…not the beast. Or perhaps they were one and the same. Suddenly, the name of Regulus Black felt more like a chill down my spine than any simple name. Old man Jono flashed behind my eyes when I tried to blink all my fear away. Maurens humming rung loudly in my ears. I felt suffocated by the knowledge that where I stood is where The Beast -Regulus Black- would have walked through the door with bloody hands.

When Kreacher rose from his bow, I found he still walked with a rather large hunch. His eyes seemed both endless and shallow as they wandered to my feet and he let out a startling growl.

“Hurry, you are making mess for Kreacher to clean,” he spat each word as if they were daggers he could throw with his mouth.  Without a second thought, I stepped inside, my eyes kept gravitating towards the shadow atop the stairs.  I wonder who was watching me now as Kreacher skimmed my arms with his pointy fingers as he took off my soaking wet coat, the one I left for the apple orchid in.  I wondered about the color of the eyes that stared at me as I waited for further instruction, or would they be just as black as Kreachers? Full of horror and death, sin committed with the shadows' own hands? 

 All my thoughts were so consumed with a muddled mix of fear and curiosity, that I have forgotten about his silk voice. It startled me when he used it once again.

“Give them a room, Kreacher.  There is one still kept with clothes I think are fitting.  And…(Y/N),” he spoke my name like a poet.  “Stay out of the west wing.” And just like that the voice of silk turned to stone, a coldness and threat to them that reminded me of the name we gave him.  The Beast.

Panic began to rise in me and tasted an awful lot like bile, but somehow courage still found me. 

“I thank you for your hospitality, but I wish not for a room. I would like to return home. My family…they need me,” I said. The silence was almost more deafening than the roar of the mob just minutes earlier, the last note of my wavering plea hanging in the air like a cobweb. 

The voice finally spoke. “You will not be going home,” I felt my heart stutter before it broke. I swear I could hear the pieces falling in his echoing footsteps above. “They gave you to me. You are mine to keep.” For a moment, I feared he was stepping down the stairs. That he was going to lock me in with claws and trace his teeth along my neck. I’d be just another body for someone to find. But with relief, I realized he was walking away.

The distance was welcomed, but it meant one thing only. His words were final. I would not be going home.

Kreacher led me through the halls with his candle in hand, his arm reached the height of my waist as he tugged my shirt harshly, leading me along. The hallway was so dark, but with every flash of lightning paid with the candle, I could make out dark flowers on wallpaper, even darker portraits of people who seemed to smile with a snarl hung against the wall. 

I don’t remember the darkness ever being so frightening. At home, when the moon was gone and the house was plunged into black, I grabbed my sister by the hand and we’d go outside to listen to the crickets and the night birds. We stopped, of course, when the night began to hold real darkness; death. But now it feels as if we stayed out too long, and the crickets song turned to that of the vulture. I am never going home.

We made a sharp turn and the light from Kreachers candle illuminated towering doors that reached the ceiling, the knobs of the door stood out startlingly so when the candle light danced across them. The knobs were a dull gold, sculpted as striking snakes reaching to bite the hand that dare wrap around them. 

“Your room, as Mr.Black has requested.” Without another word, I reached for the handle. Hesitating only when the candlelight made the snake look as if it was actually slithering towards me. I wrapped my hand around it and opened the door. Kreacher's eyes stayed on me the whole time, they felt like being bathed in ice. Dust fell from the opening like snow, and I coughed violently as it entered my lungs.

A single tear slipped from my eye. I wiped at it hastily and pretended it was from coughing so hard, not from how miserable I felt with each passing moment. The walls were dreary and gray, capturing the dark like a caged beast and keeping it always. I could not imagine even daylight could bring light here. The bed looked stiff and old, the sheets more made of dust than cloth. But the most beautiful vanity I’ve ever seen stood proudly to the side, not a speck of dust among the things that laid there, nor the red velvet perch that sat underneath it. I could see the outlines of gold, and rich green,, from Kreachers candle. Than, it was gone.

With a turn of my head ,I see the retreating figure of Kreacher down the hall. Dread fills me quickly, like water flooding the roof during winter. Not for Kreacher leaving, if anything I was glad for that. But where Kreacher went, his candlelight followed. I closed the doors and locked them, hoping I can make friends with the dark before sunrise. I ran towards the bed and threw myself on it, crying into my arms and feeling the dust gather upon each wet streak on my cheek.

I thought about my father, who stood fiercely in the crowd, courage and anger fisting his hands, a fight brewing behind his warm eyes. Slowly, my sobs turned to hiccups. I thought of my mother, who held me where others tugged, who screamed with sense at those insane, standing with her wit and sophistication and her love. Slowly, the tears stopped flowing so freely. I thought of my sister with her scared eyes, her own tears through the bars of a jail cell, her kindness reaching me despite the distance. I wiped my face and turned on my back. I will sleep here tonight, and in the morning I will explore the castle. I will check the windows and I will view the forest.

 I will find a way to get home.

Taglist (if you would like to be added or removed, please let me know!):

@pmissuluger @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @kopheliablack @enchantedblackrose

[thetargaryenbride]

You Are Worth It [Levi x Reader]

Summary: You were ready to do anything for this man and if that meant defending him from your own comrades, then so be it.

Set before and during the No Regrets OVA

This is for @vennilavee  ‘s Writing Challange. I had fun writing~ 

This scenario is actually a part of my OC’s story BUT I decided to change it up a bit here and there and make it into a Levi x Reader instead. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7646

Warnings: Violence, Vulgarity, Profanity, some gore, some harassment

Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡ 

❅

The Underground.

It was a foul place – lawless – full of thugs, drunkards and creeps. Unfortunately, it was also the home of women who most of the time had no other choice but to sell themselves, it was the home of sick people who only wished to glimpse the sun, and it was the home of malnourished orphans who died like flies in the dirty streets. And nobody was doing anything to help those in need.

Nobody but you.

You remembered the first time you set foot in the Underground. You were just but a little girl, holding tightly your step-mother’s hand as she made her way through the muddy streets, not caring whether her dress would get dirtied. You smiled fondly at the memory. Your step-mother’s friend had lost the rights to her citizenship and was hurdled into the clutches of the Kingdom of Shadows, being forced to work as a prostitute. But the two women kept being friends and your step-mother frequently visited to bring her food. You went only once but it was more than enough to break the pretty picture you’ve imagined – of a place safely tucked below the Inner Walls, with glowing crystals and beautifully shaped stalagmites. It was a hellhole.

You still thought of yourself as a little, naïve girl. You blamed your parents’ coddling. You were supposed to be more aware of the real world as a teen and almost young adult. You wanted to know the truth and the horrors that accompanied each day. That was one of the reasons you also wanted to join the Survey Corps. But you had promised to yourself that you’d join after you face the hell that is the Underground and after you offer some help to those who need it. After all, how could you fight and protect people from the Titans, if you couldn’t even protect them from fellow humans?

“Listen now, little lady, I know that you wanna do some charity shit down here but we also have work to do instead of escorting you. Just because your father is the Deputy Commander-,” grumbled the Military Police soldier from behind you but you didn’t pay him any attention. Instead, your ears strained to hear another sound – a child crying. You hushed the soldier and before he had the chance to give you some scathing remark, you walked away from him and towards the sound. The alleys were too narrow and the repugnant smell of piss and alcohol was heavy in the air but you tried your best to ignore it and kept walking. Turning right, then left, you came to a dead end. And there it was – the child – crouching on the ground with his knees pressed to his chest and little hands rubbing at his eyes.

You approached slowly and knelt down, your gown puddling all around you, the light blue fabric immediately getting mudded and dirtied.

“It’s all right. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you. I got some food too,” you spoke gently as to not startle him as your hand took out an apple from your bag and handed it to the child. He looked at you with big eyes and you offered an encouraging smile. That smile fell off your face the second you heard the clicking of a gun right behind your head. It pressed against you roughly, almost ruining your perfect bun. The child simply stood up and ran away.

“Now, don’t move, pretty thing. We don’t want to accidentally blast your head, do we?” came in a man’s gravelly voice, sending shivers down your spine. You dared not move as you felt him getting closer, his breath tickling your neck. “Ya better get those money ready, lass," he hissed out and you willed your body to stop shaking. It was impossible. Were you going to go out like this? Murdered by some thugs? Were you going to rot in this very same alley? Before you got the chance to see the outside world?

There was a swooshing sound. You closed your eyes, anticipating the worst, but then strangled grunts and coughing was heard, making you snap your head in the direction of the sound. Your eyes widened as you saw the two men fall dead on the ground, clothes soaking with the crimson blood that leaked from their throats, some managing to drop onto your cheek. Your eyes focused on a third man who was cleaning his knife. He didn’t pay you attention as he pocketed it and turned his back on you, ready to walk away.

“W-wait!” you called out and he halted. Let me at least see your face. Let me at least learn your name. “You saved me… I-“ you stuttered out but he interrupted you roughly, turning around to look you in the eyes. He was the most handsome man you’ve laid eyes on. The pampered, powdered noble boys couldn’t hold a candle to his rugged looks and the aura he was giving off. He had raven hair, locks falling around his eyes, pale skin and sharp eyes the color of a stormy sky. His clothes were a little bit baggy but even like this you could tell his body was built nicely so you assumed that he was a thug as well. Speaking of clothes, his were way too clean and pristine for someone living in such a filthy place.

“Don’t waste your breath. Go back upstairs to your gold and fine porcelain. You don’t belong here,” he spat out and your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly stood up, coming face to face with him.

“I’m sorry but you can’t say where I do or do not belong to. Maybe I don’t really fancy the world you speak of,” you told him firmly and his gaze lingered on your for awhile.

“You’re a lunatic then,” were his last words before he walked away.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You didn’t listen to the man. One bad experience and some rude words weren’t enough to convince you otherwise. In fact, that made you more stubborn and you soon found your way in the Underground once again. This time you carried a knife. Your grandfather had taught you how to throw them and you regretted not bringing one last time.

The day passed by in a blur. The heavy bag full of bread and left-over pastries from your family’s bakery was now empty and you were ready to head back home and take a long bath. But you stopped when you heard a commotion. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to risk getting caught up in something again. But your heart was beating faster and your body felt warmer the closer the sound got and you supposed that there was some supernatural force that was pulling you towards it. Soon enough, you found yourself in the midst of a brutal brawl. The same guy who saved you a few days ago was being ganged up on. He was surprisingly holding his ground, sending lethal punches and kicks his enemies’ way. But you should’ve known they would fight dirty as one of the members sneaked behind the guy and prepared to shoot him in the back.

Your body moved before you even ordered it to, hand grabbing the knife hidden in the pocket of your dress and throwing it. It embedded into the head of the thug and he fell. Everything stopped for awhile. You could see the two members of the group looking at you with both shock and rage. You could see the surprised expression on the guy’s face, his arm up in mid-punch. Then there was a bang and you felt a searing pain in your middle region. Your vision blurred and the last thing you saw was the guy who saved you pummel the remaining members of the gang to death and scream something at you.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

When your eyes fluttered open, they saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Your first instinct was to stand up and run but your body was too tired and the only thing you managed to do was shift and move your head.

“Finally awake?” came in a voice and you gasped as you saw the same guy. Had he saved you? What exactly happened in the first place? You wanted to ask him multiple questions but the one you settled on was:

“Are you all right?”

He shot you an incredulous look.

“You were the one who got shot, dumbass. Worry about yourself,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows and you let out a weak chuckle.

“You are right… You know, we’ve saved each other’s lives so many times already and yet I do not know your name.”

“It’s Levi,” he answered your silent question and you smiled as bright as you could.

“Nice to meet you, Levi! My name is Y/N! Y/F/N!”

His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at you, a spark of what seemed to be recognition, relief and even fondness could be seen deep within. He uncrossed his arms and walked out of the room. You counted the minutes awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers or clenching and unclenching the sheets, before you finally decided to sit up. It was a struggle. The bullet had got you in the upper stomach but apparently he had nursed you back to health. You noticed that your torso was neatly covered in clean bandages as the blankets slid down a bit, making you shiver at the bareness of your arms. You blushed at the thought of him seeing you like this but nothing could be done. And you didn’t care that much about dignity and nudity when it came down to saving lives – others’ or your own.

Your thoughts were interrupted when he walked in the room, carrying a plate with peeled and sliced apples. For a moment, he stood by the doorframe simply watching you, before he made his way towards you and sat on the corner of the bed, placing the plate on your lap and outstretching his other hand. Your eyes fell on what he was holding and you gasped as memories from years ago flooded you.  

The day when you had been so curious you had begged your step-mother to take you with her. She had agreed and you had made your way to the Underground. You had stuck close to her as she walked into what you now knew was a brothel.

❅ 

“Carol! It’s so good to see you!” exclaimed your step-mom and the other woman chuckled as she gave her a hug.

“You didn’t have to bring so much food again. I’m so grateful to have you.”

You smiled as you watched the two women converse but your attention was stolen by a figure in your periphery vision, making you completely turn around. It was a boy. He didn’t seem to be much older than you. He was wearing a ragged shirt that reached his knees and some worn out pants but his hair looked clean and neatly cut. He watched you shyly, interest sparkling in his eyes as he took in your appearance. He had probably never seen a noble in such a place. You smiled and waved at him and he mirrored you after his hesitation worn off. You took a few steps forward and smiled brightly at him.

“Hi, there! What is your name?”

“Levi,” he uttered and you put your hands on your hips. You probably looked ridiculous – a child with lots of baby fat, trying to look and give off a motherly aura.

“You are very thin, Levi. That just can’t do!” you exclaimed in disapproval as you reached into the bag of food your step-mom had brought, taking out a few apples and placing them in your white apron. You neared the boy and beckoned him to take them. “Here, take these! Dad always says that an apple a day keeps the doctor away!” you grinned.

He gulped and his hands trembled a bit when he took the fruits from you, eyes gazing into your own with such gratitude and respect. And because you were so focused on his features, you noticed some smudged dirt on his left cheek. You clicked your tongue as you grabbed a handkerchief from your pocket and proceeded to wipe his face since his arms were busy balancing the apples from falling out of his grip.

“You got some dirt here. It’s very important to stay clean, you know,” you told him gently and he nodded.

“My mother says the same,” he whispered and you smiled as you tucked your handkerchief in his pocket.

“Then you keep this and make sure to stay clean,” you smiled at him before your step-mom called you and you had to bid him goodbye.

“Wait!” he called out and you looked at him over your shoulder. “What’s your name?” he asked timidly and you grinned at him again.

“Y/N! Y/F/N! It was nice meeting you, Levi! I hope we can meet again!”

❅

But you never met him again. When next time your step-mom had returned from her visit and you had asked about the boy, she said he was nowhere to be found but there was a rumor that one of the women working there had passed away and her child had disappeared.

“We meet again,” you sent him a watery smile as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. You didn’t know why, they just did. You never pegged yourself as an overly emotional person but life was a mysterious companion.

“Yeah,” drawled the man quietly and for the first time since you’ve met, that permanent frown was replaced by a small, soft smile.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Since that fateful meeting, your visits to the Underground became more frequent. You didn’t only want to do charity but you wanted to visit Levi. He told you to not come back. That it was dangerous. But you didn’t listen. You wore simpler dresses – not the big, intricate gowns. You tied your hair in a simple ponytail or bun – not the stylish hairstyles screaming that their bearer was a noblewoman. You usually never wore jewelry with the exception of the earrings your step-mother had gifted you, but you took them off during your visits, trying to blend in the best way possible. Of course, you were a woman, therefore it was only natural to attract creeps. But you managed to deal with them. You just wanted to help children and see Levi. Was it that much to ask?

“Eeh! There is a body of water this huge? And full of salt!? I cannot believe it!” exclaimed Farlan.

“It’s true! It’s written in a book that’s been banned by the government! Why do you think they banned it if it wasn’t true!?” you shot back.

“So, you mean to tell us that there are also fields of sand and multicolored lights in the sky in North?”asked Levi while he was focusing on polishing his knife.

“I know it may sound too incredible to believe but I know it’s the truth! I just know it! And I’ll go beyond the walls and see it for myself!” you grinned enthusiastically and Levi’s eyes moved from the knife and onto your form, one eyebrow raised in both question and challenge.

“Hooh? And how are you going to do that? By going on lavishing balls in Mitras?”

“By joining the Survey Corps!” you declared and the silence became so heavy that you could cut it with a dull knife. And suddenly, all hell broke loose.

“What?! Are you insane!? You actually want to join them and go fight titans?!” shouted Farlan as he stood up from his chair and you mirrored him, crossing your arms.

“I’d pick the titans ten times over the political wars we’re waging in the capital and all the hypocrisy and backstabbing!”

“You’re gonna get eaten! Do you really want to face such a death?!”

Their shouting match was interrupted by Levi’s almost frighteningly low tone, making them sweat and gulp.

“Oi, brat... Tell me you’re not serious… Tell me you’re just…in a phase or something,” he said as he put the knife on the table, his attention now fully on you. You sighed as you slowly sat back down on the sofa, a sad smile gracing your features as you looked at the two men. You contemplated but in the end you decided that you had to tell them.

“I’ve been serious ever since I saw my mother get eaten years ago,” you confessed and their eyes widened.

“What?” stuttered out Farlan as he slumped back down on the chair.

“I haven’t told you, have I? I was…five when mom…snapped, for a lack of better word… She told me that she wanted to see the outside world and I… I was so excited!” you gripped the fabric of your dress so tight that your knuckles turned white. “We sneaked outside the walls and… I was saved just on time by a Survey Corps soldier… My mom on the other hand,” you uttered, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. “Shiganshina will always be my hometown. I can’t stay in Mitras. I can’t! My place is not inside the walls.”

“I thought you were… noble,” murmured Farlan and you chuckled.

“That’s half the truth. My father IS the Deputy Commander of the Military Police. Even before that, he was rich and powerful, coming from a family full of soldiers and nobles. The most respected family… One day he met my mom in Shiganshina. He was already married at the time but… One thing led to another and…here I stand,” you explained. “He would send money but I never saw him until…that day,” you gulped but the pain and bad memories were replaced by determination and bravery.

“I’ll join the Survey Corps. I’ll see the outside world. And I swear to you, once I am capable, I’ll get you two citizenship. I won’t let you rot in here,” you stated firmly and the men could only stare at you with both concern and fondness.  

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

In the end, you did exactly what you wanted. You joined the Survey Corps after graduating top of your class. At first you were placed in Ness’ squad but after your first expedition and after you showed incredible skills and potential, you were moved to Erwin’s squad. You proved how great of a strategist you were and you showed them your political skills when it came to dealing with the Royal Assembly. That gained you lots of respect from the higher ups within the Survey Corps. You also built a name for yourself as Humanity’s fastest because all fellow soldiers who’ve seen you fight, including veterans, have said that there was no one faster. You didn’t brag though.  

Now, a year later, you were a squad leader yourself and there were rumors that you would be promoted to Captain. You smiled at the thought. You pushed your body and mentality way over the limits to prove yourself worthy as fast and as efficient as possible in order to gain a title – to gain power – because thanks to that it would be easier to save them.

Just hang on for a bit more, Farlan, Levi. I’ll soon be able to get you out of that hole.

Flagon’s fist hit the table as he growled in irritation, interrupting your thought process.

“Quite frankly, this is humiliating!”

“I couldn’t agree more,” nodded another Section Commander by the name of Deckan Caddel. His demeanor seemed calm but his eyes were glinting with a murderous intent. You never liked him. Sure, he was great soldier. But he joined purely out of revenge and bloodlust – because his father was eaten. He didn’t care about protecting Humanity. In fact, he always had such disregard for people, especially those who weren’t from Wall Sina like himself.

“Are you honestly telling us, who have always held formality in high regard, to accept a bunch of criminals?”

You had half a mind to tell him to chill the fuck out but you bit your tongue. Flagon was a good guy beneath his prejudices.

After discussing the newly recruited members and the formation that Erwin suggested, the meeting was over and everyone left. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Deckan ogling you before he walked off. You narrowed your eyes but brushed it off as you made your way to the private quarters aligned with your office and prepared for bed. Tomorrow morning the said criminals would be introduced to the others and it will be decided in which squad they would be put on.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You were…shocked. The criminals everyone were talking about were none other than Levi and Farlan accompanied by a younger girl. Your mind didn’t even comprehend Commander Shadis’ words or the trio’s introduction. You were too busy staring at them, still unable to process that they were here, donning the noble uniform of the Survey Corps. You gulped down the tears threatening to spill and patiently waited for the introduction to be over. While Flagon was busy with subtly expressing his disdain of the three being placed on his squad and sending sharp glances Erwin’s way, you finally managed to gather the strength to come closer and into their line of sight.

The moment Levi’s eyes clashed with yours, you felt like crying and running to embrace him. Your heart started beating faster and your body warmed up after feeling so cold for literal ages. You didn’t know how this man; why this man; had such an effect on you…but you loved it.

His eyes widened and he subtly elbowed Farlan whose attention shifted to where he was looking at. He wasn’t as subtle as Levi though and his reaction was quite open as he pretty much gawked at you. Both men’s eyes shone brightly with fondness and relief.

Even when everyone were dismissed and allowed to go back to their own business, you didn’t. You quietly followed after Flagon as he walked the new recruits to the barracks.

“You two men will sleep here,” you could hear Flagon instructing them from your place in the hallway. “You lot have been living in the dumps of the Underground but do try to keep this place clean,” your eyes widened comically and you almost choked on thin air. Just as you supposed, Levi’s outraged “huh?” followed right away and he neared Flagon threateningly, breaking his personal bubble.

“W-what’s with that look?” stuttered out the man and you decided to intervene before it had gotten out of control.

“Now, now, Flagon, you used to sleep in those barracks too. But you’ve probably forgotten that they always have been dirty,” came in your voice, making everyone’s heads snap to your direction. Farlan’s lips twitched in a smile but Levi’s face was composed. Flagon clicked his tongue.

“And what are you doing here, Y/L/N?” he asked with a sigh and you shrugged, fully entering the room.

“I just came here to make sure you don’t start a fire or something,” you shot back teasingly and he rolled his eyes before turning his back on everyone.

“I’ll leave you to it. And next time don’t try to approach a commanding officer with such attitude. Maybe Y/N will be able to teach you some manners,” snapped Flagon and Farlan tried to salute respectfully.

“Yes, sir!”

“Your hand’s upside-down! You begin training early tomorrow! I expect you to be punctual!”

The moment Flagon was out of sight and earshot you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself at the two men, hugging them tightly. Farlan was quick to return the embrace but Levi froze for awhile, hesitating, before he awkwardly patted your head as you sobbed.

“It’s you! I can’t believe it!” you pulled away and took a good look at them. “You seem healthy. I’m so happy to see you! I still can’t believe that it’s you who Erwin recruited. He must have seen incredible potential! We have so much to talk about-“ your rambling was interrupted by a coughing, making you face the redheaded girl.

“I think we haven’t officially met! My name’s Isabel Magnolia! Nice to meetcha!” grinned the girl and you smiled at her, shaking her hand.

“My name is Y/F/N. It’s pleasure meeting you! You are probably confused as to how we know one another but I’ll tell you everything!” you hooked your arm around hers and tugged her towards the door. “I’ll show you to the girls’ barracks and,” your gaze flickered to the boys, finding Levi’s and holding his for awhile. “I hope I’ll see you two shortly.”

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You had talked to Isabel until the late hours, telling her about your background, about how you met Levi and Farlan, about your life in the Training Corps and then as a soldier in the Survey Corps. There was so much to talk about and you really wanted to make friends with her since she seemed to be someone very important to Levi and Farlan.

The next day had rolled fast and before you knew it, everyone were up and about – training. The three newbies were to be evaluated today – their skills tested.  

Levi was walking amongst the horses, mind wandering off to the mission at hand. If he wanted it to be successful, he had to play by the Survey Corps rules and one of them was to learn how to ride. Isabel had no problem with it. She seemed to be natural. Then again she has always been an animal lover so he wasn’t surprised at how fast she grasped horse riding. Farlan had some troubles with the horse he had chosen, the mare too feisty for him to handle. And Levi? Well, he still hasn’t chosen one.

“I think she likes you,” came in your gentle tone and he sighed, grateful for the momentary distraction. You came to stand beside him and before he could ask, you pointed ahead, making him focus his vision onto the beautiful black mare that was intently staring at him.

“You know, it’s not only you choosing the horse. The horse has to choose you too,” you told him as you both approached the mare and Levi slowly outstretched his hand, allowing the animal to sniff him before licking it. He smiled when she nudged his hand, beckoning him to caress her.

“Her name is Danika. I raised her,” you smiled and he lifted his eyebrows. “And this is Astaroth. My partner,” you grinned as you pointed to the horse right next to Danika. He was the biggest horse Levi has seen amongst all Survey Corps horses and the only one with such unique coloration.

“He seems a bit…different than the rest,” he mused and you hummed in agreement.

“They had found him outside the walls a bit before I joined. When I tell you he was wild, I mean it. They hadn’t been able to tame him never mind how many times they tried. Then I came and tried. My way. And it worked. He became my partner since then. He’s the strongest and fastest horse in the SC history. Trust me, it’s not easy riding him into battle sometimes but I’ve grown used to it,” you explained and he huffed.

“It’s not only about growing used to it. You yourself are probably a great rider. A natural,” he commented and you shrugged.

“Maybe…Say, do you want to ride together?” you asked and he nodded.

“Sure.”

That’s how you found yourselves riding the horses deep into the forest and away from all the ruckus in the training grounds. You wanted Levi to truly feel and experience the riding and bond with his horse which took some time instead of immediately jumping onto the animal and rushing it into gallop like what most did. And while the silence was comforting, you decided to break it.

“One of the perks about being a part of the Survey Corps is that you get to live surrounded by nature. Just look at it. Look how beautiful and peaceful it is. Fields upon fields and forests upon forest. So much greenery and beauty,” you sighed dreamily and Levi hummed in agreement.

“It’s not bad.”

“At the same time if you get tired of the peace and quiet, you can just roam the halls of the castle or the training grounds and sink into the pleasant noise of soldiers chattering, laughing, eating and training together,” you smiled as you looked at the man. The green shadows the trees cast upon him and the flickering-through-the-trees light bathing him made him look so beautiful, so relaxed…so gentle. Then your thoughts wandered off to a place deeper and darker.

“I still can’t believe that you’re here. That you chose to join the Survey Corps… I’ll be honest with you. I don’t think you guys are ready to be soldiers. Not yet. You need so much training and the expedition is too soon and,” you realized you were rambling so you took a breath and exhaled slowly. “I just…I just feel like Erwin’s offer and your decision will bring some catastrophic consequences. I trust my intuition. It has never failed me.”

“A bit too late for that now,” huffed the man and you bit your lip.

“Why didn’t you wait a bit more for me? I’m sure you calculated almost three years in the Training Corps and then one or so more until I get a higher rank-“

“I thought you were dead,” he interrupted you with a soft, heavy tone that surprised you.

“Eh?”

“There were a few times when I would overhear the MP soldiers talking. They spoke of failed expeditions and death. They mentioned you too. Humanity’s Fastest, huh?” he shot you a wry smile and you blushed but held his gaze as he kept talking, the smile turning into frown. “Not long after, I heard them talking about a particularly nasty expedition that resulted in lots of death. That even you weren’t fast enough to escape.”

“Oh, Levi…It’s…It’s my fault for not finding a way to contact you. Trusting someone blindly and waiting for years is just…not possible or rational,” you looked away and squeezed your eyes, your grip on the reins tightening. Levi shook his head.

“I don’t blame you. It’s not like you could’ve come visit personally or sent letters. So you don’t blame yourself either, brat.”

The following weeks were a pure bliss. You spent all your free time with Levi, Farlan and Isabel, filling them in on everything that had happened throughout the years and helping them adjust to the world above.

But dread came. It came too soon for your liking – in the form of the 23rd Expedition.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Your squad was mostly responsible for support and defense. Whenever someone shot a black or a purple signal, your squad was to go and assist the squad that had shot the flare.

That’s how you had clashed with Flagon’s squad and you had to combine your strength in order to kill the horde of titans that had appeared suddenly. It was overbearing and a member of your squad was nearly eaten by an abnormal. It was an aggressive abnormal, like nothing you’ve encountered before. Despite the warnings of your squadmates, you had jumped into action, slicing off its hand and entering its mouth in order to grab the girl’s ankle and haul her out. The tongue had been so slippery from the leaking saliva that you had slipped and half of your body had fallen into its mouth. When your arm ceased holding its mouth at bay, it clamped down – not hard enough to snap you in half but hard enough to cut into your meat. Levi had been the one to save you, slashing at the titan and then catching you as you fell once the monster had released you.

Now he was standing awkwardly to the side, fists gripping tightly the handles of the swords, yet shaking, as you were sitting on the ground, back leaning against your horse who had crouched down to serve as your pillar, with the female soldier you had saved wailing and fumbling with the bandages.

“Calm down, dear, it’s not that deep. I just need you to tie the bandages very hard, ok? Like you’re tying a corset,” you encouraged her weakly but her hands seemed to shake even more. Levi tsked as he grabbed them from her hands and shooed her away silently. He grabbed your arm and carefully helped you up, turning you so your back was facing him.

❅

“Wow, Levi, you sure know how to treat gunshot wounds,” you commented as you observed the way he had nursed your injury. It had been a few days since the incident and you were already able to move. The man shrugged.

“Used to it.”

“I have to return home. My family must be worried,” you muttered as you looked apologetically at him. “Do you think you can help me put on my dress? The corset is a pain and it still hurts when I stretch.”

“Tch, come here.”

“Ouch! That’s too tight!”

“Just bear with it.”

❅

He pulled sharply at the bandages, the sound of fabric rubbing harshly against fabric and skin almost sickening as well as the way your waist and belly seemed to become flatter and flatter due to the force and how tight he was tying the bandages around your abdomen. You kept silent. The only thing you allowed were small grunts of discomfort slipping through your lips.

“O-oi, isn’t that too much?” snapped Flagon but you shook your head.

“It’s better than bleeding out. Besides, I need to go to Erwin and the Commander,” you grunted and Flagon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Elaborate.”

“I don’t like this weather. I have a bad feeling about it. It wouldn’t be wise to keep fighting if it starts pouring. It wouldn’t be a problem for the titans but it will be a major hindrance if we cannot see clearly. I’ll go to the center and talk to the Commander,” you explained while Levi finally finished with bandaging you. Your eyes locked and you exchanged gratitude silently. His gaze stayed longer on your form, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern before he got onto his horse.

“You do have a point. The weather will be very problematic but on the other hand, we cannot cut the expedition so soon. We just left the walls,” reasoned Flagon and you sighed as you climbed on Astaroth. When he felt you on top of him he finally rose to his legs.  

“We can go back and wait until the weather is better, then continue. We are not going to lose anything if we just wait for a bit in Shiganshina.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think that the Royal Assembly will be understanding regarding this matter. They are already up our asses, threatening to defund us at every turn. This will be a good opportunity for them to spit on us yet again,” he growled and you sighed. He had a point, but still…

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the Royal Assembly. I can deal with them. But I won’t risk the lives of my soldiers and comrades,” you declared firmly and your squad smiled as they looked at you with love and admiration. You were a great leader and you were already thinking and behaving like a Captain. That’s why you were so deserving of this title.

“Let’s go,” you commanded and everyone turned their horses, ready to gallop towards the center.

“Y/N,” Flagon’s voice halted you and you half turned to face him. He had a solemn look on his face. “You can’t save everyone.”

“I can try.”

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

Flagon had been right. So right about you not being able to save everyone. You realized that as you stared at Farlan’s body – bitten in half and lying in the mud with his intestines hanging. Or Isabel’s head at Levi’s feet. Flagon and his squad’s bodies were distorted and strewn throughout the field alongside their horses. It was a nightmarish sight to see. Even more so than usual. Who would have known that there would be more aggressive abnormals? You wanted to throw up right here and now but you were too focused on Levi. Levi whose raw, pain-filled, raging screams you had heard just a few minutes ago. Levi who was trying his hardest not to cry, yet his tears were still there mixed with the remnants of the rain droplets. Levi who screamed at Erwin, confessing that his true goal was to kill him before falling to his knees, seemingly giving up on life.

After Erwin spoke to him and left alongside his squad, Levi didn’t move from his position, eyes hidden behind his bangs, but you still knew that they were focused on Isabel’s head, probably flickering onto Farlan. Your squad members looked at you worriedly. You were too still and unresponding. They weren’t used to seeing you like this.

You gulped as you took a few hesitant steps forward, kneeling in the mud beside the broken man. The same man who you now, after this gruesome expedition that almost cost you your life, finally came to realize you held feelings for – feelings stronger than what someone would hold for a friend.

You gently took his bloodied hand and his eyes snapped to you when he finally lifted his head.

“Let’s go home,” you whispered as you sent him a small smile and he lowered his head again. Despite all, he allowed you to hold his hand and help him stand up and lead him to his horse.

The journey back to the walls was silent. Levi was to ride with your squad. You wanted to watch over him. You were at a total loss. You didn’t know what to expect from him. Therefore you didn’t know what would be the best way to comfort him. One thing was for sure. You had to be ready for him acting like a cold dick and trying to push you away. You supposed that with personality like his, that behavior was to be expected.

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

And you had been completely wrong. He didn’t do anything like that. He didn’t push you away. He wasn’t cold. In fact, it was the total opposite. He accepted your comfort. He accepted your affection, albeit hesitantly. He allowed you to be near him and make him company. You didn’t talk much. Just being near one another was enough.

He thought that you were the only person he had left now. Like hell was he going to push you away. He wanted to be strong and go through this alone. He didn’t want to burden you with his pain. He knew you were suffering too. Yet deep down he bitterly admitted that he needed you to be there for him. He needed you to hold him. He needed your reassuring words and your company that soothed the aching throb in his soul.

❅ 

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Levi?” you asked him one night as the two of you were seated on the rooftop, staring into the skies.

“I don’t know anymore,” he whispered.

“I do. I believe that this body is just a shell and when it crumbles, our soul leaves and finds another one, either on this world or on another. Just look at the sky! It’s so huge! And I’m sure that there is more behind it, the further you go. Worlds upon worlds,” you smiled breathlessly and he raised his eyebrows, looking at the stars intently, as if trying to see beyond them the worlds you were speaking of. “I like to believe that all my friends who die get reincarnated into a world beautiful and free of titans and get to live normal and happy lives. That’s why I think that there is a certain beauty and relief to death, even if it hurts so much.”

“It doesn’t sound half bad,” he breathed out and you gave him one of those warm smiles that poured light into his heart. The type of smiles that almost had him smile back.

❅

He was probably exaggerating but from now on, you truly were…

His everything.

He didn’t care about anyone else. Why should he? It’s not like they cared either. In fact, they kept calling him a criminal. They kept being rude and condescending, mocking him at every turn. Hange, Erwing and Mike were the only exceptions so far, willing to befriend him and actually putting an effort in doing so. And you of course. The rest of the higher ups kept quiet so he didn’t know how they felt about him. But out of all, there WAS one bastard that just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He always went overboard with his insults and disrespect that even some of the cadets who used to hate Levi thought it was barbaric and had a change of heart regarding the matters.

Yeah. His name?

Deckan Caddel.

But you? You were brilliant. Every time Deckan would insult Levi openly, you would jump in his defense and insult the bastard just as fiercely which would make him glare dangerously at you before storming out. Levi always berated you.

“Tch, I don’t want you getting in trouble, dumbass. It’s not worth it.”

But to you it was more than worth it. So you fought. You fought for Levi.

And everything was good until one night, after waking up from a particularly nasty nightmare, you had rushed out of the comforts of your personal quarters and down the hallways. You wanted to go all the way to the male barracks and seek Levi’s comfort but a figure had halted your journey, making you stumble and almost fall down the stairs if a large hand hadn’t grabbed your arm roughly, shoving you against the stone wall.

“And just where is the little slut going?” taunted Deckan and you wriggled, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Let me go!”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Just who do you think you are, huh, little girl?” his voice sent shivers down your spine as his hands held your wrists so tight you swore you heard the bone crack. “I don’t care whether that sewer rat is your lover or your fuck buddy. You aren’t a Captain yet. So if you continue to oppose me and publically humiliate me just to defend him… I’ll make sure to break the life out of you, you hear me?” he growled as his knee slammed into your abdomen, causing you to groan in pain and cough out bits of blood. Said knee then slid down and came to rest between your legs, pressing onto your crotch and making your eyes widen in panic as your struggling became more fierce. “I’ll break you in every single way,” he drawled and his other hand went to grab your chin, squeezing it tightly. “And then I’ll make sure to suspend you from the Survey Corps,” he spat out and your eyes widened. “Or better yet. Now that I think about it, an accidental fall down the stairs might just do the job for me,” he smirked deviously and you gulped, anticipating his next crazy move.

Before any of you could do anything, a hand shot out from the darkness. It grabbed Deckan’s collar and harshly pulled, causing the man to steer off balance and lose his footing. You watched with a combination of relief and horror how everything happened as if in slow motion – him outstretching his hand in order to grab onto something, his body going further away from you before hitting the stone and proceeding to roll down. A thud was heard some seconds later, followed by a painful groan.

Then the sound of someone’s kick connecting with someone’s jaw echoed through the hallway, finally snapping you out of your stupor as you looked down to see Levi crouching down next to a beaten and bloody Deckan who was barely conscious.

“Touch her again and during the next expedition I’ll personally shove you into a titan’s mouth. I’m done with being silent and taking your shit, you filthy swine,” growled Levi and Deckan could only look in fear through his swollen eyes, barely nodding his head. Levi tsked before he climbed the stairs once again, taking your hand and quickly leading you into your office.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered as he closed and locked the door.

“So I should’ve let that mongrel push you down the stairs?” he spat out and you shook your head. “He deserved what he got. I don’t regret my decision.”

“No, but-“

“Don’t! Just…don’t…” yelled Levi before his voice settled into a pained groan, almost cracking as his head lowered letting the bangs cover his eyes, his body slouching against the door. You knew that look. The vulnerable look. “Please, don’t get hurt…not because of me,” he mumbled. “It’s not worth it.”

You frowned as you approached him. Without hesitation, you took his face into your hands and kissed his forehead before you settled his head onto your chest, arms engulfing his form.

“How many times do I have to say it? I’ll die for you if I have to. Because it is worth it. It is worth it if it’s for your sake,” you whispered into his ear as one hand went to stroke his hair and he relaxed in your embrace, sighing softly as his own arms went around your body, pulling you even closer.

“Live for me instead.”

❅

❅

❅

[roger-that-cap]

doubt comes in

orpheus!bucky barnes x fem!eurydice!reader

summary: a retelling of orpheus and eurydice for an extremely late entry for a mythology challenge!!

warnings: uh- yeah i was not playing with this myth lol… fluffy beginning, uh, that’s all imma say about that and ALSO i haven’t edited this so haha, i am running on fumes but had to post this jeez 

word count: 11.3k good god

There were gods that were unexplainably strong. There were some that could bend fire and metal to their will, some that could string up love and cast it upon others, and others that knew more of war and how to win more than they even knew themselves. Others were the faces of glory, like Zeus and Hera and the sun god Apollo and so many others. There were many that were worshipped by humans every day of every week, and others that were forgotten until they were desperately needed. There were some that lived immortal lives and demanded respect from humans and gods alike, and then there were the ones invested in their art, in themselves, in the beauty of life itself.

That was Bucky. He was so immersed in song, in the gift that he had inherited from his mother, Calliope, that it was all he could think about. It was what made him different, it was what made him stand out from the boys that he grew up with that were just plain old strong. He had a talent, he had a mother that was a myth and a legend alike, and he had a lyre. He had a lyre, a lute, his voice, and a bit of speed, and that was all that he would ever need in life. That, and a pretty landscape to look at while he strummed his golden strings. But that was all he ever thought he would need- which was why he was knocked right off of his planted feet when he saw you walk by.

You were a human. You were a beautiful girl, probably the most beautiful being he had ever seen in his entire life. He had met goddesses and nymphs and princesses alike, but never had he met someone who had such a sweet face, such a gentle aura, and even more, a beautiful voice. You had only said a few words to someone else that were delivered with a gentle smile, but he could have sworn that your words were a melody. Before he knew it, your entire being was stamped into his mind, and he knew that he would never be able to forget you.

It was by complete chance that the next day, he decided to wallow in his sadness by a fountain in public, strumming his lyre too quietly for anyone else to hear. Anyone who knew him knew that he was devastatingly off. And coincidentally, the only ones who truly did know Bucky were Steve and Sam, two forest nymphs that had been his best friends since he taught them the ways of the lute years and years ago. They were sitting by him in silence on the marbled fountain, waiting next to him for the second shoe that they doubted would ever drop. But then, like Bucky was a sunflower following the sun itself, his back straightened, his head perked up, and his mouth dropped, his eyes wide and swirling with admiration as he watched you- the same human woman he was enamoured with- walk through the square again, a woven basket full of fresh fruits on your arm and your lilac dress swishing in the wind.

“No way,” he heard Sam mutter, and Steve poked his side.

“You were always such a doubter,” Steve mumbled, but the smile on his face was audible through his tone. “There she is, in the flesh.”

Bucky could hardly hear anything but the soft melody stirring up in his mind, louder than his racing heart, and just as tender as the feelings swirling inside of him. He saw you wave to the older woman you were talking to and then start to walk away, and he knew that he couldn’t let you go, not when the Fates so obviously gave him a second chance. Without a second thought, he slid off of the fountain, leaving his friends and his lyre, striding towards you with the brightest smile, trying to cover the fact that he was nervous.

His clumsy feet were carrying him a little too quickly, and he could hear the snickers of Steve and Sam from behind him. He craned his head backwards to look at them and laugh too, but he tripped over his own left foot, barreling right into you and knocking you flat onto the ground. His half immortal heart beat heavy and hard in his chest as he watched you wince under him. He scrambled up, cheeks flushed and hand shaking as he watched you sit up and brush the dirt off of your dress. He was looking down at you with a look that he prayed wasn’t as desperate as he felt. But he had to know you.

“I’m Orpheus,” he started, and when you turned your bright eyes to him with your brows furrowed, he shook his head like he was trying to get water from his hair. “No, I meant that I was sorry- I’m so sorry. For knocking you over, miss.” He extended his hand to you again, and he swore that he saw your lips quirk up a bit at him. You took his hand and stood up, brushing the fabric of your dress once again. He caught a trail of your scent, and he was immediately overtaken by the scent of fresh flowers and lavender.

That was when he really got a good look at you for the first time. The first time he saw you had been brief. You weren’t even looking anywhere near his way, and he only caught a look at your stunning side profile before you walked away. His vision had been practically blurred from excitement while he walked up to you, and he was so embarrassed about crashing into you that he was subtly trying not to look in your eyes. But… damn, he had been missing out.

He swore that time stopped. His own heart stopped beating, even the sluggish beat leaving for a few moments. The noises from the town square were so dull that they seemed muted. The stares of Steve and Sam felt so far off that he didn’t even notice them. All he knew was that he was utterly entranced by you, and for a second, he could have sworn that by the look in your eyes, you felt the same way. But like the blaring of an alarm, something knocked you both out of it, putting you in the present, with present problems.

“Oh, the fruits,” you muttered, looking at the peaches and apples that tumbled right out of your basket, bending over quickly to collect them despite the fact that they had gotten bruised. Bucky’s heart jumped to his throat with guilt when he realized he had ruined the fruit you had either picked or paid for, and then he was rushing to get them even faster, praying to the gods that you didn’t automatically hate him.

After looking into your eyes, he doubted he could live with himself if you even so much as disliked him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I don’t have the best footing,” he apologized again, gently placing the fruits back into your basket.

“It’s okay,” you said, and your eyes trailed behind him to look at his friends that were howling with laughter, holding onto each other. He saw your displeasure, and his heart dropped when he understood that you probably thought they had sent him over just to mess with you. Your eyes whipped back to Bucky, and he blushed something fierce. He felt his cheeks warm up under your scrutiny, and then there was a smile creeping back onto your face. “I'm Eurydice.”

Oh, Gods. Eurydice. He swore that he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. He had grown up with the Muses, even had a mother as one, and was surrounded by music and poetry and epics every second of his childhood. Music was imprinted in his mind, every note embedded in his everyday life, yet still it was the most beautiful- “But I go by Y/N.” No. Eurydice was now second. But your name, the one he knew you had chosen for yourself, was the most beautiful thing that life had ever offered him to hear.

His brain was going many miles a minute, as quick as Hermes on a mission, but all he could do in the end was blink and offer his true name first, like politeness called for. “I’m Orpheus,” he extended his arm again to you, and you shook it twice. Your hand was soft, so soft that he didn’t want to let go of it. He would never forget the feeling of your hand in his, and the way he swore that the nerves under his skin were alight with the gentlest and sweetest of fires. “You can call me Eurydic- I mean, Bucky. I’m Bucky.”

You could both hear the laughter coming from Bucky’s friends, and while you were cracking a small smile, Bucky was dying on the inside. “You like to be called by other people's names?”

“I wouldn't mind being called by yours,” he blurted softly, his words coming out as a quick and uncalculated slur. He blinked abruptly when he realized that he was truly having the worst first introduction he had ever had in his life, and it was the one that somehow meant the most to him. “I- only because Eurydice is such a pretty- so is Y/N- I… I’m sorry.” He shook his head, knowing that he was so close to just having to walk away. Instead of embarrassing himself further, he just gave you a short smile and waved, turning on his heel.

“I’m Orpheus, then. Maybe Bucky, too.” He slowly turned back around, a shocked look on his face. Had you really spoken to him again with your own free will?

Bucky knew that he wasn’t ugly. No god or demigod was ever ugly, other than poor Hephaestus. He knew that he had his own sort of charm and that he could bring the roughest of people to tears and the saddest of people to joy with his music, but he didn’t know anything else. He had three redeeming qualities that swirled in his head constantly- he was pretty, he had music, and he had a famous mother.

“Are you a singer?”

“Huh?” So much for eloquence.

You bit your lip. “You speak… you speak like you have a song in your heart. Are you a singer?”

He was stumped. Most knew at least of his music if nothing else. He was the most famed god or man to ever strum a lute besides maybe Apollo. Most knew nothing of his personality and nothing about him other than the fact that he was born to play and sing, and you didn’t? Where had you been living? “Well, I’m Orpheus.”

There was a grin on your face, and Bucky knew that he never wanted to see anything other than that for the rest of his life. “And that makes you a singer?”

He opened his mouth again, ready to talk about who he was born from and where he learned to play and who taught him, but when he looked deeper and saw the spark of mischief in your eyes, he leaned back and held back a small smile of his own. His heart fluttered and grew two sizes. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Maybe I don’t,” you said, obvious teasing in your voice, and somehow it still stayed kind. “Maybe I do, and just wanted a free song out of you.”

She knows me, he thought, and his heart may as well have let out a lovesick sigh from within the confines of his chest. She has never heard me sing before, but she will. I’ll sing her a thousand songs.

“I’ll sing you all the songs you desire if you marry me,” he blurted, and while his mind was scolding him for uttering those words so quickly, his heart was steady on beating and so sure of itself that he told his mind off.

To his subtle surprise, you didn’t look shocked. You weren’t disgusted by his rather bold approach and most importantly, you weren’t laughing at him. He held onto your silence in limbo, waiting for you to say something that would either crush him to bits or send his soul rising so high that he reached the cloudy gates of Olympus.

“If you can make me a song that can make the skies open up and weep without singing a word, then I’ll marry you.”

His heart soared. His hands shook. He could have sworn that even his toes clenched. But all you could see were his wide, boyish eyes, and the hopeful look that dawned across his face. He nodded quickly. “I’ll do anything.”

He saw your lips pull up into a smile, genuine and even a little shy, and he couldn’t help but want to step closer. But he knew he had already been up front and abrupt, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away.

“Okay,” you said, nodding your own head slowly. “I’ll see you soon, then, Bucky.” You took a step back, eyes still connected to his blue ones until you finally turned around and walked away with the same basket on your arm, same dress swaying with the tuneless song of the wind.

The three of them stood in silence, watching you walk away, taking pieces of Bucky’s heart with you in your cradled arms. The bustling of the town was loud, moving about like nothing of significance had happened right where they were all standing, and Bucky found it nothing short of insane. Did no one else just see how the world stopped turning for that one girl? How the Fates put a pause on the clock just so that they could meet?

Steve’s voice brought him out of it. “Did you just ask for her hand in marriage?”

He didn’t even have the energy to shrug. All the swirled in his mind was love, passion, music, and you. You, you, you. “I had to.”

“How will you even find her again?” Steve asked, his logic once again being the only thing that held Bucky down to the ground.

“I know the work of Eros when I see it,” Sam said to Steve, shaking his head somewhat fondly at the pale boy with brunette hair who was still staring off in the direction you left in, like you would miraculously appear again. “They’ll find each other again soon enough.”

The hours went by and then the daylight turned into night and back to day again, and Sam’s words couldn’t have been truer. Your spirit and your face and your voice found Bucky with every few seconds that passed by. He couldn’t blink without seeing you. He couldn’t listen to anyone without hearing you. He couldn’t breathe without smelling your beautiful scent. Everything tasted bland, looked plain, and sounded like white noise after he met you. He knew that until his last (and unlikely) breath, his heart would ache for nothing more than to be yours. He wanted his ring to be on your finger, and yours to be on his.

So he began to make a song.

§§§

He worked tirelessly. The hours below the sun that used to be spent laughing and playing with Steve and Sam were exchanged for hours of composing. His normally perfect posture was hunched over as he tried to find the melody that had stirred in his heart when he first saw you- because he knew that was it.

By the end of twelve days of pure struggling, most of the song was finished. He was a fast worker, so fast that it made everyone else’s heads spin, but he felt it was going too slowly. But then again, he was fast at everything. The melody was as stuck with him as his skin was to his body. He was sure that it would never leave him, even if he wrote a thousand more songs. And part of him never wanted it to go, because it was so you.

He had only held one conversation with you, and it wasn’t long enough, but he felt like he had known you for years. He felt like he had sung to you hundreds of times and danced with you a hundred times more. Your soul felt so familiar yet so foreign that he had to chase after you, and had to discover anything that he could have missed. He knew that you were his destiny, and he had a feeling that you knew he was yours.

The song he was writing wasn’t sad, but it brought tears to his eyes all the same. It wasn’t about longing or loss or chasing after something that would never come to you, but it made Steve and Sam wipe their eyes all the same. It was about your beauty, your inherent wit and kindness, and the way that you set his soul free from chains he didn’t even know of. It was about a love he had never dreamed of finding or even thought to be true, and that was enough to make the three of them weep.

“I think it’s finished, Buck.” This came from Steve after he wiped his eyes again, sitting through the full song again even though his heart aches for a love he had never felt before. “Sam thought it was done days ago.”

Sam had left the two of them alone days ago, claiming that he couldn’t stand to hear the melody and cry each time, claiming that it was beautiful but too much. It made sense. Even Bucky himself was starting to feel the effects of it. But Steve was a stubborn thing, and he would sit through it for as long as Bucky would play it.

“You think it’s enough to make the skies open and cry?” Bucky breathed out, loosely quoting the words he had heard from you not too long ago.

“Even if it’s not, it will surely win her over,” Steve said. “She was already wooed by you, you’re a fool not to see it. She was excited enough that you even agreed to make the song in the first place, anyway.”

Bucky sat there for a few minutes as his fingers tingled, expecting to be used again to pluck the magnificent strings. But he set his instrument down on the log he sat on, sighing and placing a hand under his chin, his thoughts trailing over to you for the thousandth time. “I hope she accepts it.”

Steve just looked at him. “I think that if you came empty handed and told her half of the words you tell me and Sam, she’d follow you anywhere.”

Steve was right. Steve had to have been right, or he was going to wilt right in front of you. He had to be. The brunet nodded, biting his pink lip before opening his mouth again. “Where do you think I’ll find her?”

§§§

It didn’t take long to find you at all. Bucky went to find you alone, finding you because something inside of him told him to search the flowering fields nearby, and there you were. There was a hat made of straw over your head to cover your eyes and face from the sun, and you had the same basket on your arm that you had the other days. It was empty this time, and he had no doubt that you were looking at the flowers for fun before going to look for fruit. He couldn't help but smile fondly at you from across the field, and then he was gripping his lyre and taking a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he called out, his voice full of emotion instead of being the strong sound he wanted it to be. Nonetheless, it caught your attention, and then your pretty eyes were wide on him. Immediately, your feet turned in his direction and you made your way across the meadow, and he followed suit. He met you in the middle, so nervous that the grin that was deep inside of him wasn’t coming out at all.

You were both at a loss for words as you stood close to each other. His hands shook at his sides, aching to hold your hands in his. He wondered if they were as soft as your voice, or as smooth as the petals flowers you admired. “You came?”

He blinked. Of course he did. It was all he could think of doing. “My only regret is not coming sooner,” he admitted, and he watched you angle your eyes downwards, and he smiled at your shyness. “Would you like to hear it?”

Your eyes were connecting with his again, and he could have sworn that your smile could have put him in an early grave. He was momentarily stunned by you and your brightness, so stunned that he hardly even heard what you said. “Of course I would.”

“So then you’ll hear it,” he said softly, his heart and mind completely taken over by you in your presence. He fixed his lyre into position, his fingers already fixed into the correct spots as he began to play your song.

His eyes were shut as he strummed just as he had practiced thousands of times, but he knew it felt different. His body was buzzing with excitement and something else he couldn’t identify, but he loved it. It made him play stronger. His eyes shut even more as he felt the music, swaying side to side a bit as he felt his heart open up to you, finally content with you hearing the song.

He didn’t even realize that he was done until all he could hear was quiet sniffles. He pried his left eye open, almost too scared to look for your reaction, but when he saw that you were just looking up at him with watery eyes and a wobbly smile, he opened his other eye, ready to spring into action.

The only thought going through his mind was that it was impossible that you liked it. The way you were looking at him reminded him of the way people looked at sculptures of ancient monsters— a muted type of awe, but also a sense of discomfort. He brought you to tears, and not in the way he wanted to. He ruined it.

“I- was it bad?” He blurted out, and he cursed himself at ruining his own chance. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you didn’t like it-”

“How long have you been playing that song?”

You were too beautiful. Too gentle. You were melting his brain into mush, and he doubted that he would be able to pick up his lyre for another round even if you begged him. “I… I just made it. For you, I made it with you in mind.”

Your facial expression didn’t change. “Where’s the ring?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“The rings we’re going to wear when we wed,” you said, almost teasing. “Do you have them?”

His eyes widened. “You want to marry me?” He asked, leaning forward a bit in shock. “The sky didn’t- the rain never came.”

“I cried,” you said, a small smile on your face. You still hadn’t wiped your tears, and he watched them frozen on your face, stuck in time. “I didn’t expect the work of the gods. I just wanted you to play for me.”

He was bewildered. He had half of the mind to ask you if you truly meant it again, but he took his excitement and ran with it. “And you… you feel this too?”

You took his right hand into yours, and he swore that his souls ascended to the gates of Olympus and waltzed right in. “I felt it the second I saw you, Bucky.”

He blushed something fierce before looking down at the ground, shame overtaking his sheer admiration for you. “There’s something I should tell you before you say you want to be with me.”

“Tell me anything,” you encouraged softly, one of your hands coming up to brush his warm cheek.

“I don’t have much.”

And he didn’t. He had Sam and Steve and a nomadic lifestyle. He never stayed in the same place for long, and he didn’t have a roof over his head. He didn’t need one. Rain and wind and fire didn’t bother him. He preferred to live under the canopy of trees and the protection of nature. But he knew humans didn’t. He knew humans— especially women— liked when their partners brought things to the table, and he had nothing but strings and whistles. He had nothing materialistic. He had no gems, no coins, no house, and fancy clothes— nothing money could buy. But he looked at you and saw that you deserved it all, and even more he saw that he had no way to even provide it for you.

“I live in many different places, I don’t have a home. I don’t have money. I don’t have… I can’t buy you dresses or shoes or any of the stuff you would probably like… and I’m sorry. I know that will probably change everything, but I just wanted you to know.”

You took a step forward, strong and secure, and then your chin was tilted upwards. “Like I said, where are the rings?”

Bucky grinned.

§§§

The day of your wedding was blessed by the gods, whether they admitted it or not. You married each other in the meadow Bucky found you in with a small crowd of people, and when you kissed as man and wife, peace washed over the both of you, and it felt like your marriage had been approved by all far and wide. The kiss that you shared to make the wedding official was short and sweet and full of the most innocent of passion, and he felt so adored by the soft touch of your lips that he felt a singular tear cross the terrain of his pale face for the first time in years.

He didn’t even deny it.

He didn’t deny the way that you danced together was perfect. He had never guided you, had hardly even danced with another woman, but it was perfect. It was like he had practiced with you before a hundred times, and the feel of your hands in his was what kept him sane. He was convinced that you could do anything new with him and it would feel like you had done it before, just because you were so familiar to him as a whole.

He had known you for what felt like seconds in the grand scheme of things, but you knew him inside out and he knew you better than he knew himself. He could find you in the dark, you could identify him with just a whisper of his voice, and he could fall in love with you over and over without even touching you. He would perform the Sisyphean task of falling in love with you over and over again if it meant that he could be next to you.

And luckily, it turned out that you didn’t need the things that Bucky was sure you were going to. He got you a small house just for the two of you to come back to, and he still roamed around in the area. Steve and Sam would walk off and come back weeks later, just like they used to when it was the three of them together. And there would Bucky be, at the house he made possible for you, and happier than ever.

Bucky lived an extremely modest life with you, and he liked it. Farming and getting water from wells and working for the food that was on your tables, cutting wood to feed the flames in the pit in the middle of your main room. Life was somewhat repetitive, so repetitive that he was scared he would lose you to your wild imagination and beautiful, adventurous heart. But it had never been as fulfilling as it was with you.

The little things were what made his day. It was waking up with you at his side, tucked into his arms and still sleeping soundly while he made songs up in his head dedicated to you that made him smile. It was listening to you hum to yourself while you washed corn and peaches and squash in the buckets of water you had carried down the hill that served as your property. It was the way you would pull him out of a funk by taking his hand and leading him out of his chair, dancing to music that didn’t exist, or the way you would coax him to sing to the moon because you wanted a longer night. A longer night meant more time spent with each other.

When you woke up after your long nights, sometimes you would coax him out of bed for some daily challenge, a challenge that usually he would end up beating you at. Part of him believed that you just wanted him to show off, but you always said otherwise. You would challenge him in singing only to have him go first and not even sing, claiming you had already lost. You would tell him you wanted to race him to the stream and back, knowing that you would lose by a long shot. He could run circles around you if he hardly tried, and that was just in his godly blood. But there was never any jealousy, never any animosity, never any bitterness. It was all just sweet, it felt.

You were just so magical. It was so simple, the things that made him happy, but he knew that just one call from your soul to his was more than just communication. He craved it. He knew from the moment that he met you that his soul would always seek yours, even into the afterlife. He knew that every day with you would be as beautiful as you were on your wedding day, shining brighter than any gem or any star in the night sky. And none of it would ever change.

§§

Things changed. Just as the sun rose and set, so did time. It cranked on without a single hint of Bucky aging, and you were still as youthful as you were the three years prior. Life was still beautiful, and that was all that mattered.

You had traveled around the world with him, kissed in so many different cities with different kings and different cultures and different music. You had met so many different people, lived so many different lives, just to go back home and settle there. It was wonderful. He loved you, and you loved him. It was the kind of love that was never at risk of fading or thawing away. It was the kind of love that was only spurned on as the years crawled by, the days acting as twigs added to an already strong fire. It was such a beautiful thing that he had with you, and every day with you felt like one that was blessed by the gods themselves.

Until it didn’t.

Bucky had never felt fear in his heart like he did when he heard your scream travel across the meadow. He didn’t even put on his shoes before tearing off to find you, torn between begging you to make another sound so that he could hear you or pleading the gods to make the sound of your distress stop and never happen again. His chest rose and fell with the exertion, and he knew that he had never been so afraid in his life.

The scream was all that echoed in his mind when he ran through the woods, and as he stumbled upon fallen fruits and flowers that he just knew were yours. He realized he was at the end of a ravine almost too late, and when he looked down, following the steep curve of the slope with wary and partially-knowing eyes, he immediately doubled over.

There you were in all your fallen glory, legs bent unnaturally and neck twisted even worse. The light yellow of your dress was stained with brown and dark green, and in some places a deep red that made him sick to his stomach. Your eyes were looking up at the sky, staring right into the sun as it shone down on your figure, taunting him just like the breeze that began to make your dress look so lively.

Bucky fell to his knees right on the edge of the ravine, his heart not even lurching when he lost his balance. An arm reached out to you, like it was stuck in the moment before you fell and he could reach you. Tears were coming down his face slowly, steadily as he fought to get breaths in. He called your name.

He didn’t know how many times he called your name, or how far the sadness in it traveled. It must have been loud and long enough, because before he knew it, there were hands on his shoulders. They were warm and familiar and even the smallest bit comforting in that moment, but not enough. He wanted your hands.

“Let’s get away from the edge, Buck.” It was Steve’s voice, strong and gentle and the backbone of the situation. Bucky’s eyes pried open at the feeling of Steve’s sturdy hands pulling him backwards, and he retched in his mouth at the sight of your broken, soulless body at the bottom. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten so close to it himself.

“I’ll go down to…” Sam started, trailing off with a soft and distraught look on his face when he caught sight of Bucky again, and Steve nodded at him.

“Let’s get you up, Buck. Up and Washed off.” He hadn't even realized he was dirty at all. His hands were covered in dirt and under his fingernails were the same earthy brown he was used to. He had been pulling up grass from where he grieved without even noticing.

His sobs were so loud that they hurt Steve’s ears. His dragging steps were causing such a disturbance to the land around him that animals seemed to crane their necks at him and cast their glances his way, as if wondering how on earth a person could be that distressed. His mouth was moving, but it looked and sounded more like babbling and trembling as waterfalls came down the canvas of his pale skin.

“Buck, you have to calm down. You’re about to have an attack.”

He didn’t know if he meant heart attack or a panic attack, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were dead, all twisted up at the bottom of a ravine. Your soul had left the earth, left your body, and you were just laying there like you had never been alive. Like you had never held his hand, or kissed his cheek, or wore his ring or laughed or sang or read fine poetry while eating the fruits you had picked. Seeing you down there with your open and dim eyes felt like you had never lived at all.

“Keep walking with me, buddy. You’re going to be just fine.”

But he wasn’t. Every step he took away from you made bile come up in his throat. He wanted to be as far away from your lifeless body as possible, but he didn’t want to ever let you go. He wanted to hold you close to him until it felt like you were alive again. But as his heart beat seemed to freeze up but race like a horse all the same, he realized that you would never be alive again. You were only as alive as your last few moments, whether they were filled with the joy and freedom of having the wind on your face or the fear of falling. He could do nothing to change it.

But he would try to do everything.

§§

He spoke to everything and nothing. Steve and Sam would take turns coming to him after they celebrated your life. It reminded Bucky of the way that his mothers friends used to come watch him while his mother was off and away somewhere, and how it felt like they thought of him as a cute little burden. He knew deep down that his friends cared for him more than anything and that he cared about them just as much, but he couldn’t think about anything but you. He wouldn’t.

It was a service that made the skies open just like you said they would for his voice. The day lilies that surrounded you and Bucky seemed to be weeping with him. The wind came from east to west and west to east, spinning around and throwing in the scent of the flower with the smell of oncoming rain, reflecting the turmoil he was feeling on the inside. He could have sworn that the earth had trembled just like his hands that held your cold and still ones. But if the world had caved down under him at that moment, he wouldn’t have moved. He wouldn’t have opened his mouth to scream, or even say a word. He would have only held your hand tighter.

He spoke to the moon more often than he did Steve and Sam. They hovered, but it was the kind of hovering that Bucky felt he would appreciate sooner or later. He would sit every night and talk to the moon with his legs pulled into his chest, small and in such a vulnerable position that it would have made him feel uncomfortable at any other time. But he was vulnerable. He had been knocked off of his feet and winded. The world kicked him while he was down more times than he could count, and they had opened his chest and peeked right into his heart before seeing it was unworthy and walking away from him. It left him bleeding out in the forest while he listened to the birds eventually go on back to chirping, and watched the flowers push through and grow, and people laugh and smile and talk like nothing changed.

He was doing just that. He was lying in the flowering fields that he would always swear belonged to you, the both of you, when he heard soft footsteps. He didn’t care to look up. He knew it wasn’t Steve or Sam, but why would he care? He had nothing to be scared of now that you were gone.

“You’re Orpheus.” It wasn’t a question.

He didn’t even blink, but an annoyance he couldn’t shake bubbled up inside of him at hearing the name his mother granted him coming from a stranger. As much as he wanted complete silence, he couldn’t help but say- “Bu- sure. I’m Orpheus.”

“Everyone heard, you know.” The voice was of an old, frail woman. Bucky knew that without even looking, He ignored the fact that pity was strong in her voice, and that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He ignored the way he knew that she thought that she had the right to talk about his wife, about the way he had lost you far too soon. She knew nothing. But he let her speak. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say a word. He didn't even recognize words as an option. He would stay silent and wait until she left. Maybe if he was quiet enough or stared up at the sky in such a still manner that it scared her, she would leave him. If he pretended to be as dead as he felt, he was sure she would leave.

“There hasn’t been a good song since you’ve stopped playing.” He heard rustling, and then he dared to look off to the side to see the old woman struggling to sit, cane wobbling in her hand as she finally plopped her frail bones onto the ground near him. He sighed heavily and looked back up to the sky. “You know, you’ve gotta be the most moving musician to ever walk the earth, from both god and man.”

It was a compliment that would have had him blushing years ago. It would have had his young mind fumbling for his lute or lyre and clearing his godly voice, asking if she wanted to sing with him or just listen. Now, it incited nothing. It meant nothing. “I doubt I’ll ever play again.”

“You pleased god and man,” the old woman carried on, almost like she had never heard him open to speak with that raspy voice of his that was so uncharacteristic of him that it hurt to hear. “Anyone would have done anything to hear your music.”

He finally turned to the side to look the old woman in her face, and he blinked at her. “I’m grieving.”

“You could persuade anyone with seven strings and five notes, don’t you understand that?” Her voice was almost angry. It was hard and nearly pleading, so different from her previous tone that Bucky snapped his head her way. “If I were you, I would have been at Death’s gates.”

They were staring at each other. Bucky was looking at the decrepit woman with curly gray hair that looked like she had dodged a visit to the Gates of Death herself more than once with shocked eyes. His heart started to beat again, like her words were arousing some kind of vicious hope that he never even knew could exist.

“The gods blessed your union. They won’t ever say, but they did bless your marriage. What makes you think that if you beg, you won’t get a blessed reunion as well?”

She disappeared within seconds of her final words, leaving a revelation swirling around in his mind and haunting his every thought.

§§

His feet ached. His hands were beginning to blister from stroking the strings of his tired lyre, and his throat was even beginning to strain. He had been singing for hours, pouring his heart out at the hidden gates of the Underworld, begging for an audience. But above all the physical pain ranked the ache in his heart, the unbearable feeling of your death sitting on his shoulders and ripping him apart from the inside. His grief was destroying him.

Hades might as well have had ears plugged up with the same wax that was used by Odysseus and his men. Usually he went undisputed, because just as life was certain, so was death. There was no questioning the decision of it, or the Fates, or the rule of Hades and his acceptance of his dear Eurydice into his kingdom. Everyone was allowed to plead and beg, but no one ever went down to the gates of the Underworld to ask for the release of a loved one, whether they were man or god. But there he was, standing in dirtied pants with fingertips plucked pink, and tears running down his face.

He didn’t know if he would ever gain the strength to leave. He didn’t know what he would do if someone even bothered to humor him. He wasn’t going to be able to have you back. He was never going to be able to bring you back up above, have you under the sun and shining beautifully like you were born to do. What would he beg of them? For them to let him see that your soul ended up in the Asphodel Meadows? For them to let him hold you one last time before you drank from the Lethe and forgot everything that happened? What if you had already drank from it? Each thought made his stomach lurch more, and his music grew louder and more desperate, like the final battle cry of a warrior.

His back was up against a tree as he sang out again in the night, praying for someone to hear him and take pity on his poor soul. Strike me down and send me with her, if you cannot give me the gift of seeing her again. The same tears that had been steadily pouring down his face were gathered in a puddle at his unmoving feet, yet he didn’t mind. He couldn’t.

“You have woken my wife.”

Bucky’s playing stopped immediately. “What?”

The man before him was dark. He was tall and seemed to take up almost the entire space even though he was only a bit wider than Bucky. His shoulders were broad and his chin was strong, and his eyes were sharp even under the gloomy look they had to them. His cheekbones were sunken in and his eyes had a ring of black around them, like he hadn’t slept in a thousand years. His lips were set in a hard line, but he didn’t look displeased. Most notably, he had a dark aura surrounding him, even black most coming from behind him and nearly encasing him.

“I don’t repeat myself, and luckily, it looks like you heard me the first time.” His voice was deep, enthralling, like a song that Bucky would never dare write himself.

What was a man this terrifying, this powerful, doing in the forest? How had Bucky woken a soul when he was in soulless territory? He hadn’t seen houses for leagues.

Something inside of Bucky begged him to apologize. It begged him to get into his knees and look downwards towards the growing grass and hope to be spared. If this was before he lost you, maybe he would have listened to it. But what did he have to truly live for now that his darling was gone?

“I’m sorry to have brought you out of your dwellings because of my grieving.”

There was a certain kind of silence that would have made Bucky’s skin crawl if he even dared to look the being’s way. “Grieving?”

“My wife.” He breathed out, finally letting his arms loose as he let his trust lyre fall down to his side. “She… has fallen prey to death.”

“Ah,” the man said, his voice nearly a scoff. “I see. The circle of life.”

“And now my life shall go in circles, on and on and down the same miserable path without the woman I love,” Bucky stated, resting his head back against the tree. “I wish I knew a man that grieved. Me… I live amongst gods. We don’t grieve. We don’t die. I have never met a man who had an inch of grief in his heart. I feel like the first to ever feel it.”

“We can lose people in other ways than death,” the man said. “Death is the most absolute, but it seems to hurt a lot less than voluntary abandonment.”

“This is my first brush with death, and I have to admit that I’m not the biggest fan.” What an understatement.

“That’s a shame. My wife is quite the fan of you and your… grief. She says it’s the most moving thing she’s ever heard.” Bucky just nodded, eyes far off. “She wants to meet you.”

“I don’t really want to meet anyone.”

“You don’t want to see my wife? You don’t want a two way ticket to the world you’ve been singing about taking passage to for days now, Orpheus?”

His head turned slowly, eyes widening as he tried to piece thoughts and facts together with his sluggish mind. “What?” But he knew. He knew with another glance at this man that he was no man at all, but one of the original gods. He was Hades, in the divine flesh, standing right before him with a glint in his eyes that meant he was satisfied by Bucky’s shock. He went to his knees, kneeling as a sob piled up into his throat.

“Your Excellency,” he began to plead, recalling back to the times he was a young god, listening to his mother explaining the way that he should speak to all the gods who came before him- especially one as powerful as Hades. “I apologize. My mind is not set right— the loss of my wife has taken a toll on me. Please forgive me.”

“Your grief blinds you.”

There was no point in lying. “It does.”

“I, too, was blinded by grief. In fact, it happens every other six months, though I suppose you young gods and humans call it winter and fall. My wife would leave, gone with a stroke of wind and then come back only to wilt again. But she, just like your own wife, will learn that there is nothing we can do about the situations we are in. Destiny will have us where she has us, and your Eurydice’s path above has ended.”

Bucky wanted to scream at him. He wanted to refuse him and tell him that Destiny and the Fates would have to bend to his will, because there was no other way. He couldn’t last another day without you, let alone a lifetime. But the god he was speaking to was Hades, and Bucky was just Orpheus, a low level demigod.

“However, my wife still wants to meet you. She wants to hear your song clearly, where it’s not muffled by distance.” His heart began to race. His hands were shaking. His eyes were wide as he tried to take in a deep breath, waiting for the gloomy god’s next words. “If you agree to see her and play her that song of yours, I’ll let you see this wife you speak of. Does that sound fair?”

Nodding was all Bucky could do to stay awake.

§§

The Underworld was just as gloomy as it was in the stories. Black and grey ran together to create a shadowy world, dismal and dark. It was full of strange sounds, like the whistling of thick wind that almost sounded like wailing humans. The air was so heavy that Bucky was finding it hard to breathe, and there was a mist so hard to cut through that Bucky could hardly see more than three feet in front of him at a time. Hades led him, and the only reason he could see him was because of his true height showing, and the fact that his dark smoke was even darker than the mist.

His hands shook. Both of them held onto his lyre for dear life. It was close to his chest, strings facing away from him, but still it felt like he could feel the vibrations of it, like the air was mocking him back by playing a song of its own. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and fall to his knees, the environment putting him in near shock.

But he had to find you.

Hades stopped in his tracks, turning his sunken face towards Bucky, who had to fight to not flinch. “If you play for my wife and she likes it, I’ll take you to see yours.” He nodded his head quickly, putting his lyre into position, his arms trembling with anxiety. The double doors opened without the old god even touching them, and then Bucky was faced with an ancient throne room, elegant and dark all the same.

The first thing he did once he got near the sitting Queen of the Underworld was kneel. Tears were already swirling in his eyes, and his throat was lurching. If he were a human, he was sure that he would have been throwing up. He prayed silently to his mother, calling upon the strength of the Muses and their talents into his blood once more.

It was silent until the queen finally spoke. “So you’re the musician?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“I expected you to be much older,” she said, her soft voice a plain contrast from her husband’s, and the dark setting of the Underworld. And then, Bucky understood that the stories weren’t embellished. At first thought, she didn’t seem to belong down there, least of all with Hades. He didn’t dare look up at either of them. “Your grief seems to be centuries old.” It felt like it was. The hole in his heart felt older than he was.

“This is Orpheus, son of Calliope,” Hades explained. “He can’t be more than a few thousand years, if I remember correctly.”

“Young, very young.” Persephone mused, the tone of her voice almost curious. “And what causes you to play this song?”

He explained it. He explained all of it. Your death, his need to see you, his stupid hope of bringing you back home where you belonged. He left it all on the table for them both to hear, even though he knew that the odds were unlikely for him. He didn’t care. He didn’t care if he got ridiculed or thrown back out of the gate, all that mattered to him was that he tried his hardest to get you. And that you knew, deep down in your forgotten mind, that he tried.

“Your music has moved me so, truly.” Persephone said, and then Bucky looked up. She was beautiful, flowers all over her body. She was the brightest thing down there, no doubt, and she still had that godly glow that all the other gods had, a golden rim around her body. She turned her face toward her husband without taking her eyes off of Bucky. “And I want to give you a chance.”

Bucky’s heart stopped. “Your Excellency?”

She was facing Hades now. “Give him a condition.” She muttered, her hands gripping the arms of the throne she sat on. “But let him try.”

Hades frowned. “If I let her go, how many humans do you think will hear of this tale and try to do the same?”

“None.” The goddess answered quickly. “They’re afraid of you. This boy is not. And unlike gods, humans accept death. They know that it is a part of the cycle, and they wouldn’t dare dispute it. This is just a confused young god. He hasn’t seen death before. This will be the only time anyone will ever ask this of you, Hades.”

It was pure silence. It seemed to stretch on for eons as Hades contemplated his wife’s words. The lyre had fallen to the ground minutes before, and Bucky felt himself reaching for it. Tears were streaming down his face now. “I’ll play for you again. I’ll play for you for a decade straight if you let me take her home at the end, if you let her remember me.” He added desperately, body trembling with anticipation.

Hades had dark eyes, and those dark eyes were full of uncertainty and something close to anger while he stared at Bucky, with a look on his face that was so blank that it frightened him. His wife’s hand was on his chest as she pleaded with him on Bucky’s behalf, yet he only stared Bucky down.

“If you can walk your way out of my domain without turning back to look at her, you can take her with you above ground.” Bucky sobbed. “If you look back, boy, she stays in the Asphodel Meadows.”

Bucky sobbed again.

§§

His back faced everything. He couldn’t hear anything except for the beating of his own heart, the heartbeat that seemed to extend all the way down to the fingertips that gripped the infamous lyre in his hand. He shook with every breath, and every blink was harsh on his eyes as he tried not to cry.

He wished he could hear you. He wished he could hear your soft voice reassure him, tell him that you remembered everything, that you were right behind him and that you would follow him everywhere, just like he would follow you. Just like he had followed you. He wished he could hear you.

He wished he could feel you. If your warm hands could just ghost over his shoulders and push him forward without quite letting go, he would have made the trek a thousand times. If he could feel your hands brushing away the hair out of his line of sight, he would have been walking before Hades even gave permission. He wished he could feel you.

He couldn’t. But he would walk anyway.

He hardly heard Hades give permission, his ominous tone echoing through the otherwise empty cavernous area, or the sound of Persephone’s whispers. But he could feel it in the air, suffocating and burying him.

Every lift of his foot was agonizing, every step far heavier than he ever imagined he could bear. But he would do it for you. He would push. Every whisper of doubt that crossed his mind, he would throw away.

It didn’t matter that at times, he wasn’t sure if you got what you needed from him. It didn’t matter that he felt like you weren’t fulfilled by the life you had with him. He had faith. It dwindled with every step, but he had faith. He would keep it and nurture it with every breath he had inside of him on the long journey back home.

Seconds started to feel like minutes, and minutes started to feel like hours. He hated it. His throat was closing in on itself like his voice was his enemy, like the voice everyone thought was so golden was the voice that would be the final nail in his coffin.

His feet were still aching, but the ache had become dull. Louder and more painful was the feeling of the cold biting his skin, like it was a reminder to stay conscious, to stay alert and thinking. Thinking was his vice and virtue. The silence was too loud. His mind was in pain, his heart even worse as he started to feel like the cold was his antagonizer. It was cold up above. It was in the cold where you suffered the most, where you struggled to stay positive. It was in the cold where he could hardly provide for you. It was in the cold where he had to hold you so close to him that air didn’t stand a chance between the two of you because every other man had already chopped the good wood.

But at the same time, he began to feel warm. It felt so warm to his skin that it felt like he was about to step into Tartarus. And it was in the warmth that you dressed in that pretty, short dress that got you harassed by men without humanity. It was in the summer that he found he couldn’t defend you. It was in the summer that he had a flash of realization that he wasn’t strong enough. It was in the summer that he got an even more fleeting flash of the thought that he wasn’t enough at all.

It was in the spring, in the months where there was sun and soft breezes, that he realized again that he was of no help. He had gotten a job one spring that was honest work, but brought in a lot less for the household than you did. He was working with the hands that were already calloused over to help men far more experienced than him craft things to sell to the town. He worked hard to come home tired just to know deep down that for all his work, he had not much more than chump change and a positive outlook to his name.

It was one autumn that he realized how much he had failed you, and he swept it under the rug like he did every other season. One autumn, he walked in on you crying in the arms of your friend- the local plum vendor that Bucky always used to buy from- about how you were terrified of being pregnant. As he walked through the Underworld, he asked himself how he could have ever forgotten that moment. Because what you said had shaken his heart to the core.

“There’s no way I would be able to take care of it.”

It wasn’t the certain doubt that was plants in your mind. It wasn’t the fact that neither of you had noticed Bucky hovering in the door because you were sobbing so hard. It wasn’t the way the woman comforted you better than he thought he was ever able to- because with him, you just never addressed the bad. It was as swept under the rug as dirt was. It was the way you said “I”. Alone. By yourself. Him and his contributions weren’t even in the picture. Were they even contributions?

It was never his voice that was his greatest feature and his worst. It was his mind. His mind was his killer. His mind was a killer, his poison and his weapon, and he was turning it right onto himself. His legs trembled as he fought the urge to look, to crane his neck and get his disappointment over with. Were you following him? Did you even remember him- or had you already drank from the river that would steal all of the life that you had before? Had Hades tricked him into leaving quietly?

And if you did remember him, why on earth would you follow him? You would be following him back to a land that was full of struggle and making it through day by day. You would be trudging after him this time only for him to bring up the rear in everything else. He would be the one smiling at you after you came from working to the bone, providing for him and yourself. That was all he ever had to offer, a smile and a song. What could he truly trade for a smile and a song? What could he get you?

Nothing.

What could he do if you got hurt again?

Nothing.

What could he do with his life when he surfaced and found you not there, far behind in the Underworld?

Nothing.

The doubt piled up. It replaced the faith like the faith was a forest and doubt was a wildfire. Every footstep added to it. He was convinced. He was sure that the result of him turning around at that one moment could be no worse than him turning around when he got to be above ground and away from the suffocating death. You weren’t going to be there. Whether he turned right then or in a hundred years, you weren’t going to be there. If you were in your right, beautiful mind, you would have seen him begging and turned your eyes from him and pretended like you hadn't known him.

He couldn’t tell where he was. His breathing was too shaky for him to think about anything else but breathing and thinking about you. It was too dark. His feet hadn’t touched grass yet and he knew he had to try to keep pushing, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He was bursting at the seams to confirm something that he already knew was coming for him.

His feet dragged. His steps sped up but it felt like he was fighting quicksand. He was struggling to walk through it, fighting to take breaths in it. The shallow breaths were somehow pitched high, bouncing off of the rocky, cavernous walls he began to hate. The only thing on his mind was doubt, doubt, doubt. It was a fever he couldn’t sweat out. A tremor he couldn’t shake away. A dark color he couldn’t paint over. A shadow he couldn’t run from. And just when he couldn’t fight it anymore, he saw light.

He never ran so fast in his entire life. He wanted to escape the feeling clawing at his throat and chest, the dread and preparation for pure disappointment. He wanted to step into the light, step into something he knew, before he allowed himself to collapse in grief again. It felt like the light was getting closer, and then it would fade again and come back lighter. He didn’t register the sound of sobbing until the sound faded out and stopped echoing, and then he was aware that his feet were touching the grass.

His feet were touching grass.

His hands shook as he raised them to his face, cupping his cheeks as he came to the realization that he was out of the nightmare that was the Underworld. Emotions were rushing into him faster than he could understand what they were, and then his mind stopped. His face was dry. His head whipped around.

Your eyes were wide and watery. Your dress was torn and bloody, just like it was when you had died. Your hair was a mess, and you were shaking from crying so hard. You stood there like a ghost, transparent and out of place, but crying real tears all the same. The sobs he had been hearing weren’t his own. They were yours. And you were still encased by the shadows of the Underworld.

You had been trying to catch up to him.

“Oh!” His exclamation was more of a dying moan than anything else. His trembling hands cupped his mouth again as he watched you cry again, crying even harder than that one time where the leaves were falling. He uttered your name once, and then once turned into four times, and as your cries got louder, his muttering turned into a shout, your name the one word he was calling out over and over again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry baby.” He watched as you opened and shut your mouth over and over, shaking your head as silence was all you could produce. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He was drawing blood from how his fists were clenched. “Baby, my sweet love, my darling,” the names were dripping from his tongue like honey, like it was a balm that could soothe the both of you. His apologies were just as tender, as quiet and disbelieving as the language his eyes were speaking. He couldn’t help but reach out to you with a dying apology on his lips, his foot crossing the barrier you would be stuck behind forever, and just before he touched what must have been your cold skin, there was nothing but air.

Nothing but your lingering presence and his poisonous mind.

§§

He never thought that life could be so meaningless. Even before he met you, he felt like he had a purpose. He was an entertainer, a traveling man, a man who brought joy and music with him effortlessly wherever he went. Not anymore.

He was empty, and he felt like an empty glass jar. He wasn’t even an empty box— he was something anyone that had eyes could see right through. Everyone saw him and knew he was the one who had lost a wife and in turn given up all his divine talent. They looked at him through lenses that were wet with pity. He hated it.

He hated himself for doing the same to the humans who had lost loved ones. He felt horrible for giving them those looks, for telling Steve and Sam their stories without really knowing it. Now he was going through the unimaginable.

Nothing mattered, he learned. He thought that thought over and over again every time he woke up and every time he was going to sleep. He thought it while he sat in the cold on one winter night with no fire in the fireplace. It was something that would have made him worry a bit, or made him irritated at himself. Nothing really caused him to get angry or sad anymore. He was just there. It was like he was living yet another death by extension. The world gave him his cards and he played them in the worst way possible. But that’s what he did. He couldn’t change it.

He couldn’t change anything. All he could do was pray that you forgot the way that he failed you time and time again, and then where it was most important.

He would remember enough for the both of you.

****

hi guys! i feel like i literally have come back from the dead with all the time i’ve been in and out of here. it’s been so hectic and busy that i’m proud i got this out so soon lmao- i worked hard on this, so if you were feeling it please like and reblog!!

[harfanfare]

Snow White and Juliet

trigger warning: suicide and just whatever happened in Romeo and Juliet & Snow White but darker.

People tend to define different things with the same word.

According to some, the lack of life is simply death. Others include there people who do nothing but work. They have no love, no passion. Those who remain unmoved by the suffering of others. Heartless ones.

For one poison vendor, "lifeless" meant being unable to move, drink, eat, but think. Think for eternity about nothing, what is described harsher than real death.

◆◆◆

„Test 103 was accomplished with success.”

There is confusion in the experiment hall. Researchers run from monitor to monitor, all comparing unexpected, but desired results.

No errors in documentation. No lapses in research. No difference in subsequent attempts.

The team of researchers was cheering in awe: the antidote for one of the biggest poisons in Twisted Wonderland, the "Poisoned Apple", has been found.

It's time to wake Neige Leblanche up.

◆◆◆

The Leblanche Tragedy happened almost two years ago when many haters got to harras Neige and his fiancée, [Name], who just announced their relationship. You were meeting already for quite a time, and knowing each other even longer. It wasn't easy to break any of you by hate.

But it wasn't also easy to live with people, who despised you with all their heart.

"It's alright," Neige whispered, his fingers combing the hair of his beloved. His voice was tranquil and soothing as always, almost by itself vanishing every bad experience. "It will be alright. I will make sure it will be."

"I know. And I am always thankful for that," you replied, cuddling him even more. Neige scent was another thing that hadn't changed over years; it was still the same aroma of wild, but soft flowers and heartwarming sunrays. Another wonderful feature. "I love you, Neige."

"I love you too."

That was the last discussion you had before the disaster happened.

And it started from no one else than Vil Schoenheit, who wasn't even aware how his actions will take a completely another turn than everyone expected.

◆◆◆

"Will it solve it? The sleeping potion?" you asked, turning the vial in your hands. It was no bigger than your little finger, and the potion there was taking only half of the space.

Not so long ago, around an hour, you found yourself invited by Vil to a tea party. You couldn't figure if he had been struck by your "help me" aura or was searching for a company, but you ended up in gardens, staring at the porcelain pot in which the tea was brewing.

It favoured the first meeting you two had: the tableware with the same, old-fashioned flowery pattern and the rich aroma of tea leaves of Vil's choice. Only a plate with sweets and fruits was something new—it was hard to convince Vil to bring anything sugary and even harder to make him try it. He finally ate a small (microscopical, in your opinion) piece of hand-made shortcake, but that was all you could do to let him appreciate the sweet energy shot.

"I cannot guarantee anything," Vil replied, watching you examine the bottle's content. "But it may work. With an emphasis on 'may'," he added, tearing his gaze away. Vil was your dear friend, and even if he didn't approve of your taste in men, especially your pick for a future husband, you were close enough to have him help you come up with a solution. "Use it as a last resort. I... am sure you will be able to find a better, safer way. For example, dumping your fiancé."

You giggled, but both of you knew his proposition was impossible. You could never leave Neige.

"Thank you, no thank you," you answered with a smile. The only thing that didn't let it last longer, were your problems. "Again, I am indebted to you. Thank you for being the best and the best prettiest in my life."

Vil puts the tea away, its taste suddenly feeling bitter and hard to swallow.

"...Well then. [Name], don't be reckless."

"I will try my best not to. I promise."

◆◆◆

You found a solution.

If you were the reason which made people attack Neige on social media and not only, why wouldn't you just disappear?

Not for eternity. Only for a month, maybe a few weeks, until the turmoil would silence. You and Neige could get married this way, inviting no one else than the closest of the closest people for the ceremony. Announcing your marriage and fake death wouldn't be that much of a shock as many could assume. There is a field called effective business, and everything can happen under that name.

I know how reckless is that, you were writing your thoughts on a paper. Once the dwarfs you invited to yourself saw the letter, they would give it to Neige. And you two would no longer have anyone who could undo anything. But think about it, Neige! If we may finally be together, isn't it a great chance?

You reassured him in the letter that you would wake up after few days. You also highlighted that he doesn't have to use your plan and let you two fight against the darker side of Wonderland together. He could just let you have week-long beauty sleep and with a fresh mind, try to solve your problems by less drastic measures: the press or announcements.

Maybe you were only overthinking and complicating the situation too much.

Your most loving fan, [Name]

You signed yourself and closed the envelope.

Your gaze returned to the sleeping potion. I am exaggerating, you thought. Your plans could fit into a script of a good film but in real life? What you were about to do felt... irrational and foolish.

Maybe you would change your mind if not the rush.

Once you heard footsteps on the floor and your friends, dwarfs, calling your name, you knew it is time to make a decision.

You quickly unscrewed the bottle and put it in your mouth. The sweet, sleepy fragrance with a hint of rosemary sent you to a sleep that devotedly resembled a death. The crash and sound of breaking glass as you fell to the ground immediately alerted everyone in the mansion. You couldn't hear the accelerated footsteps, screams, cries and commotion that was going on over you.

Before anyone could think to do something other than trying to wake you up and calling the hospital, the letter with your plan flew outside the window.

That night you broke two things: the promise you made to Vil and a heart of Neige.

◆◆◆

The death of [Name], the fiancée of the most adored man in the world.

Marriage cancelled? The mystery behind the death of [Name] [Surname].

A Dead bride.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

Neige scrolled through the media, each article made his heart ache. He ignored a great count of calls and didn't manage to appear at your funeral in time.

He was a broken toy, who just lost its batteries. He was a wrack of what he was before. Beautiful on the outside, blank on the inside.

Wearing a dark, a bit too oversized suit, he laid against one of the roadside trees. He closed his eyes, trying not to focus on any people, buildings or sounds except his breath. It was slow and steady until he remembered why he tries to calm down; then he would choke on his breath, tears falling from his eyes and trying to not lose balance.

"Would you like an apple?"

Neige wiped his tears in a sleeve and slowly turned around to see an old lady behind a stall. It was ruined and seemed unattended for years. The counter was doty, wood softened and tore off in big pieces by the wind and rain. Between beautifully decorated shops and cafes, this stall seemed to be a remnant that no one ever wanted to touch.

"Thank you, but I am fine." Neige replied in his polite tone, but the smile he sent her looked like nothing near 'fine'. "I am not allowed to take anything from strangers, but that is really kind of you!"

"Not just a bite?" the lady continued, putting an apple on the counter. It was brown, slightly green, and Neige would never guess it was an apple. Maybe more like a rotten apple, but no one would say that this apple was unfresh. Adversely, it contained freshness, but not of the common kind. "Wouldn't you like to join your lover?"

Neige held his breath.

"You mean... to die?"

"What I mean has no value. You will understand it the other way, even if I tried to explain," she replied. Her voice was squeaky as she repeated the question the same enigmatic way she did the first time. "So, would you like an apple?"

"No, thank you..." Neige bowed slightly. He hesitated, before trying his best to speak up. "I- I think [Name] would hate me dying. Only if she could understand this too..."

"Maybe she did" the lady replied. There was conviction in her voice, and Neige couldn't help but take her words seriously. "Or maybe not."

Neige hoped you did. How he loved you and how your death changed him from the happiest man in the world, the saddest one. He didn't know why you took your life and why he didn't notice anything before. He regretted spending not as much time with you as he wanted to.

But nothing could be done to change the past.

"I will get going," Neige said. He glanced towards the old lady, who smiled at him and showed some of her lacking teeth. "And... could you fetch me this apple, please?"

◆◆◆

Once Neige's gaze settled on your figure, the world was immediately forgotten.

He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears much more than silence who was your only companion.

No flowers, candles and golden ornaments of the church could divide Neige's attention, as his pace fastened with every step he made towards you. He didn't hesitate to lock his fingers with yours. He squeezed them, wishing his warmth could reach you.

"[Name]..." he whispered, getting his face closer to your sleeping face. He gently removed the lost strands of hair from your face, not believing that you won't wake up anymore. As much as he wanted to, no mage in Twisted Wonderland could bring the dead back to life. At least not in human's form. "I love you so much. T-too much, I think. How can I live without... my life?"

He gave you one last 'farewell' kiss on the lips, his body next to yours. "See you soon, [Name]."

His expression is the softest one he ever wore, as he reaches for an apple.

He bit it.

And then 'died'.

No sooner than the poison completely took control of his body, you woke up.

"Neige...?" you murmured, bringing your hand to his cheek. The anxiety mingled with your thoughts once you look around yourself. "We are... in a coffin?" You sat. It required effort, after not using muscles for a whole week. By the time, you took a break, you conjectured what happened. You jerked your head around and let your hands cup your lover's face. "Ple-please, please, Neige, don't do this to me. Please."

He didn't respond and the bitterness you tasted when you kissed his still warm lips confirmed that he didn't use Vil's potion. He was poisoned, and the amount left on his lips wasn't enough to take you to the same place as him. "Why didn't left anything for me? Neige..."

Your eye caught the glimmer. You went closer to notice the dagger, resting on the floor. It wasn't that visible as the weapon would be, and until you were a step from it, you could see how thin the blade was. As edge as sturdy.

The fear paralyzed you, as you came back to the coffin. But the remorse and the sight of your lover's dead body were stronger. Your whole body was shivering, a tremor affecting you more than you could ever imagine, making you go mad. Insane.

With one sharp move, you dug the blade into your chest, scared and closing your eyes.

"I am a fool."

By the time anyone arrives, it is too late to rescue you or stop the poison coursing through Neige's veins.

◆◆◆

In the morning sun rises, and everyone in Wonderland wakes up.

It is also the first time in two years since Neige fell asleep.

He can't feel anything. He can't sense the flaxen shirt the doctors changed him in. He can't get his mind through the haze, that has been floating around his thoughts just after he drank the poison. He can't answer the calls of the doctors and his friends, dwarfs, who are gathering around his bed.

But he can open his eyes.

And once he does, the silence is overcoming. When the fact finally sinks in everyone's heart, a great cheer flies across the room. Some of the gathered give Neige comforting touch or reassuringly squeeze his hand.

It takes him some time to realize what is happening, why is he in the hospital room, why people are crying around him and why you aren't the first one he sees once he wakes up. His habit of kicking you while sleeping was something you complained and teased him about. Even if he didn't wake you in his sleep, when he was getting up, his knee would always hit your arm or stomach, waking you up and having you buck him off the bed as revenge.

What he also can do, except for trying to stay awake and catching things his visitors chatter around him, is to try to remember. He didn't lose his memories! It just needs some effort to get them back from the darkest recesses of his mind! And then to regret it.

A whole wave of memories hits him like a tsunami, not leaving him space to breathe and see anything else than chaos, now replaced by the memories of you two.

The kisses. The promises. The vowes. The proposal. The struggles. The tenacity to get over your problems. The plan. The dead body of yours.

He doesn't have to turn around to know that you aren't in a hospital bed beside him. He remembered some of the talks of his friends when he was sleeping. Now everyone is waiting for him to return.

"Neige! You've finally woke up, huh!" Che'nya chippers, his voice cracking at last words. He is relieved about the news and only bad Neige's condition stops him from throwing himself at his arms and spreading the revelation to everyone... No, not even Neige himself can stop him from the latter.

Neige wasn't going to stop him. His mind still replayed the "finally woke up" part, as if the film stopped at the most painful scene, then broke and started to replay the scene once again. And again.

He turned his head on the side, letting the tears run down his cheeks.

He really can't feel anything.

"That," Neige manages to whisper under his breath. It is the first time he tries to say anything, and grievously struggles to put his words together. "is- is... so cruel." Everyone stared at him in silence, the same way they did when Neige and his dead lover were found. His cry brings tears to everyone's eyes, having many people bow under the weight of sorrow and put a hand over their lips to not let themself break again. "I didn't want to wake up..!"

[astaroth1357]

The Brothers as Angels of Virtue

My Brain: Stop thinking about the Angel!Brothers. The Angel!Brothers aren’t real. Like, they’re even less real than usual.

Me: But they are real!! *puts hand over heart* They’re real to me… in my heart…!

My Brain: “Your heart” ain’t in the canon but whatever, good luck with your delusions…

Me: Oh yeah?? Well I’ll show you, Brain!! I can FORCE this to work with the canon!!!

Brain: Nani!?!

Angel of Humility, Lucifer

Lucifer obviously wasn’t the first angel, Michael and Gabriel were there before him so those two had the most hand in “mentoring” him as he grew up.

Lucifer was always Michael’s favorite from the beginning. He was a very mild-mannered and studious kid from the get-go, even if he could be a bit blunt... 

He seemed to always be willing to learn something new and even after he would all but master whatever he practiced, he’d never forget to give credit to the people who taught him along the way. His willingness to step out of the spotlight, despite his many talents, eventually earned him the virtue of “Humility.”

Lucifer was around his pre-teens when Mammon was finally created, slightly too old to be able to grow up with him super closely, but still young enough to be more approachable than Michael or the others when he needed help.

Lucifer loved little Mammon with all his heart and would try to give him advice when he could, but since Michael would keep him busy helping him on most days Mammon was left with little people to socialize with… at least until Levi came along anyway.

As time passed and he grew even older, more and more siblings became added to the family. Lucifer never ignored or forgot about a single one of them. While Michael and others concerned themselves more with the day-to-day work, he’d be the one to check in on everyone and be sure they were alright.

Michael would arrange for a lot of “family activities” while they were all still together and Lucifer would actually enjoy participating. He’d usually volunteer to be the person who’d help the youngest at the table learn how to play a game since he wasn’t very competitive himself. A lot of the goodwill his family still has for him comes from these kinds of memories… No matter what happened afterwards.

Angel of Charity, Mammon

Mammon came around a fair amount of time after Lucifer so he was the youngest angel for quite a while. 

This led him to grow up a little… wilder than the others because he used to do things to get attention. Not big things, but like break a rule here or there to get people noticing you know?

Despite his “problem child” tendencies, no one ever considered Mammon a bad apple or anything. He probably had the most compassionate heart out of all the angels, the kind of kid who offers you one of their toys when they see you’re upset, you know?

As more siblings came into the picture, Mammon had a nasty habit of spoiling them silly. Especially Levi, who was much closer to his age, and ultimately got most of the toys when they would play together and gifts afterwards. Mammon’s selfless attitude towards giving gave him the virtue of “Charity.”

Over time, Mammon began to get more and more dissatisfied with how nice the lives of angels were compared to those of humans and he started making secret trips to the human world to help out the less fortunate. Since this was tiptoeing dangerously close to meddling with human lives, Lucifer was brought in to give Mammon a different outlet for his frustration...

Lucifer placed Mammon in the guardian angel program, allowing him to pick one human whom he could help as much as he liked, so long as he followed the rules. As it would turn out, Mammon took to guardianship swimmingly and stayed in the program right up until their eventual fall… and sort of afterwards too if you think about it.

Angel of Kindness, Leviathan

After Levi was made, Mammon was SO excited to have someone close to his age around that he became his main playmate.

Levi adored Mammon back then, the two were practically inseparable when they were young. The other angels would find them running around together, the more extroverted and lively Mammon leading the way for his his shy, but sweet brother in for whatever they were doing.

When Mammon would come up with any big project ideas, Levi would be the first person he’d ask to be his “partner-in-crime.” Unfortunately, it was still very much one of those “they’re a pair, but they have two braincells between them” kind of dynamics so things would always go south quick.

One day, Mammon was determined to make breakfast for all the other angels so Michael could take a break, so he pulled in Levi to help him. Because neither of them actually knew how to cook, the kitchen turned into a disaster and they both were covered in eggs and flour when Lucifer found them...

As Levi grew up, he more or less became of the unofficial helper and confidant to all the other angels, his siblings included. In time, because he was always so willing to lend a hand with everyone else’s projects, he became pretty skilled at a lot of things as a result. People eventually took note of Levi’s good-nature and named his virtue “Kindness.”

When Mammon started acting up more and more, the other angels would try to discourage Levi from associating with him as much but he’d always be the first to stick up for his older brother. No matter how much he bent the rules, he knew that he had a good heart and always meant well in the end. That, unfortunately, wouldn’t always hold true down the line...

Angel of Chastity, Asmodeus

There was another gap between Levi’s creation and Asmo’s so yet again there was a young angel without anyone their age to play with…

Unlike Mammon’s situation, however, Asmo was at least fortunate enough to have older brothers who understood what that felt like and tried their best to play with him when they could. Lucifer did this in particular because he was worried that Asmo could start acting out like Mammon had all those years ago...

Because of the extra attention, Asmo took to Lucifer very quickly. He saw him sort of how Luke sees Michael for quite a while and wanted to help him as much as he could. Sometimes people would even joke that Asmo was like his shadow, because the little angel would follow him around and mimic whatever he did.

Because they were together so much, Lucifer did a lot to shelter Asmo from the less savory things in life... It wasn’t so much out of prudence as it was brotherly concern for the boy, Mammon was still quarreling with him about the state of the human world and he didn’t want Asmo to go down a similar path... Due to this, Asmo had a very sheltered view on life and his perpetual wide-eyed innocence earned him the virtue of “Chastity.”

After he got a little older, he started wanting to find his own identity apart from Lucifer and that was around the time that the twins were made. 

Though everyone adored the twins, Asmo loved them both most of all! He took on the role of their babysitter and wouldn’t hear anything to the contrary, though he was a much more relaxed guardian than Lucifer had been to him (mostly because he was just so soft for their cute little faces).

Angel of Temperance, Beelzebub

It was a big deal when the twins were created because it’s very rare for two angels to be made so close together, on the same day no less. Beel came first when the sun rose then Belphie second after it fell. 

Asmo was ecstatic to have a younger sibling at last and all of the other brothers were equally delighted. Though Asmo did a lot of their babysitting, Beel was still more closely drawn to Lucifer whenever he would watch them. During those times, he would notice how tired Lucifer would be whenever he got to play with them… this would come to affect him later on.

The twins were always close to each other, naturally, but there were still big differences in their personalities even back then. Beel had always been known for his even-temper and awareness of both others and himself. If Mammon was the kid who’d give you his toys, Beel was the one to listen to your problems (even if he didn’t understand them, like at all).

From a young age, Beel would quietly watch those around him. The Celestial Realm was a demanding environment and a lot of angels had a good deal of work to do... Beel connected the dots that doing all this work all the time led to a lot of stress early on.

Being a caring soul, Beel used this knowledge to intervene when he saw his brothers getting overworked and helped remind them of their limits. This would apply especially to his twin (who was pretty much his patient zero) and Lucifer, who eventually grew to rely on Beel’s advice so much he  made him part of his personal guard. His guidance and insight beyond his years eventually gave him the title of “Temperance.”

Though Beel was protective of everyone, Belphie often got most of his attention because of his tendency to push himself farther than he needed to. It was his desire to see his twin take more breaks that led him to asking Mammon if Belphie could start going to the human world and well… We know where that ends up.

Angel of Diligence, Belphegor

As the younger of the twins, all the other angels considered Belphie to be the baby of the family and treated him as such. Asmo adored him because he was just so cute, so he got coddled A LOT when compared to everyone else.

Belphie differed from his brother by being the more active of the two. While Beel would be comfortable to sit back and watch then lend a hand, Belphie always felt more better just getting up and doing whatever needed done himself, usually with a smile in the process. He would actually have to lean on Beel quite a lot because of this, since his twin could remind him to rest and take breaks.

Combine his cheerful attitude with his cute face and “baby brother” status and Belphie could always get away with quite a lot, even back then. Of all the boys, even Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to be too hard on him. That didn’t really become a problem until he got a little older though...

Beel was worried that Belphie wasn’t getting enough rest, so he convinced Mammon to start taking Belphie out with him when he went to the human world as a guardian angel. He figured that if Belphie was away from work, then he had to rest, right? Mammon agreed and that’s what sparked Belphie’s fascination with the human world to start with.

After getting to go a couple times, he would start working extra hard in order to suck up to Lucifer, Michael, or whoever he could so he could go again. When the other angels started getting concerned that he was spending too much time there, they tried to put a limit on it to keep him home. However, that just lead him to sneaking out and leaving notes for Beel on where to find him if people started noticing...

Beel tried his best to curtail his twin’s trips, but even he couldn’t really tell Belphie no when he needed to hear it. By the time Lilith came around, Belphie was already making regular trips there and back and well… That’s how the story goes.

[hellsbellschime]

Why Jaime Lannister's GoT Ending Was Actually Bad

Nearly every aspect of the end of Game of Thrones earned ire from the majority of the show and book fandom, but one aspect of the show's conclusion that seems to have frustrated fans across the board was the ending for Jaime Lannister. More specifically, that after a seemingly solid and nearly complete redemption arc, he returned to Cersei and King's Landing to die in a manner that somewhat works as a metaphor but didn't resonate well with the audience at all. And, while Jaime's ending was a flop, it didn't fail for the reasons that many viewers seem to think that it did.

The Lannisters are obviously some of the most complex and important characters in A Song of Ice and Fire, but one of the most interesting aspects of their family dynamic is that it was established far before the contemporary storyline actually began. And, while Game of Thrones seemed to paint it as if Cersei was a source of toxicity that Tyrion and Jaime couldn't get out from under the thumb of, the truth is that the bad apple that spoiled the bunch was never Cersei, it was always Tywin.

One of the most meaningful and important themes of George RR Martin's work is the long-term effects that abuse has on children, and there isn't really any example that is more present and potent than the horrific effects that Tywin's abuse had on all of his children, and how it affected them in different ways.

Jaime, Cersei, and Tyrion all have some of the most intriguing points of view in the entire story. And one aspect that all of their POVs seem to share in common is that while nearly everyone in their world perceives them as a villain, they all see themselves as victims. And the truth is, both sides of this coin are correct.

Yes, the Lannister children have done many horrific, irredeemable things in their lives, but they have also been the victims of extremely traumatic abuse that understandably altered their outlook on the world and on themselves in general. There is a balance between victim and perpetrator that needs to be struck with their characters, but one of Game of Thrones' bigger flaws was its inability to do that.

Unsurprisingly, nearly every character's book point of view grants themselves more sympathy than they should. Almost everyone sees themselves as a better person than they are or is capable of rationalizing away their bad deeds and focusing on their more positive decisions and personality traits. But this is of course one of the many ways in which George RR Martin utilizes his POV traps.

Translating a story that is told through the eyes of the characters themselves and filming it from a more objective third-person perspective means that plenty of important information is going to be lost in that translation. But one of the fatal flaws when it comes to the Lannisters is that, while Game of Thrones does still present Cersei as pretty forthrightly villainous, the narrative pretty drastically whitewashes Tyrion and Jaime. Essentially, it seems to take Tyrion and Jaime at their point-of-view word and treats them like they're much better people than they truly are. Thus, Jaime's ignominious end with the supposed biggest baddie of them all feels like a betrayal of his character development when it really shouldn't be.

Every character needs to be held responsible for their own choices, but the downfall of House Lannister really does rest in the hands of Tywin, and Game of Thrones ignoring that fact did a disservice to every one of the Lannister children in one way or another.

Yes, out of all of the Lannisters, Jaime was as close as Tywin could get to the golden child of his dreams, but it's easy to overlook that while Jaime may have been the favorite on the surface, every single one of Tywin's children was disgustingly mistreated, and the effects of his abuse all showed themselves in different malignant ways.

While Jaime may have gotten preferential treatment over his siblings, Tywin was never anything other than a terrible parent, and more importantly, Jaime's superior treatment only told him exactly how he could expect to be treated if he ever failed to live up to his father's high ideals. And of course, in many big and small ways, he did ultimately fail to live up to Tywin Lannister's exacting standards.

Tywin was a terrible parent because he was an abuser, but he also raised his children with his own values of pride, entitlement, and superiority. Obviously, the notion that they were simultaneously failures who had earned their own mistreatment but were also Lannisters who deserved to be above everyone else is opposing perspectives that are in constant conflict with one another, but it also seems to be how Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion see themselves as constant victims while still perennially victimizing others.

George RR Martin has repeatedly discussed that one of the strongest themes of his work is the idea of the human heart in conflict with itself. Game of Thrones lost the plot with this in nearly every character adaptation, but Jaime's was one of the worst, largely because he is a character who has done some of the most monstrous and most heroic things in the story. He is both the man who doesn't hesitate to murder a child and the man who stopped a king from slaughtering thousands, and therefore his inner conflict is extremely vital.

Jaime's character arc in Game of Thrones follows a classic redemption arc almost perfectly, but that clearly doesn't seem to be the intent behind the character in the books. Yes, there is a part of Jaime that wants to be redeemed, but he does often revert back to his more brutal and nihilistic side, and his desire for so-called redemption seems to be driven more by how he wants the world to see him rather than how he wants to be.

And in that sense, the show did him a great disservice. Because there are many ways in which Jaime hasn't healed from Tywin's abuse, but the fact that he still seeks the approval of others in a rather superficial manner rather than developing a deeper understanding of true honor and justice is one of the clearest indications that, while Jaime does want to get out of the path that his father laid out for him, he is still crippled by what Tywin told him being a Lannister meant. And ironically, Tywin's belief about what being a Lannister means has essentially trapped all of his children into trying and failing to live up to that example simply because they can't survive unless they do.

Because ultimately, it's not necessarily just about what Jaime, or Cersei, or Tyrion wants. At some point, every single one of them has made obvious indications that they don't want to be a part of the legacy that Tywin Lannister laid out for them. But, when Game of Thrones presented Tywin as a super-intelligent master strategist instead of a completely unnecessarily violent and aggressive asshole, it made all of the Lannister children's choices harder to understand.

Both in the A Song of Ice and Fire and Game of Thrones fandoms, Tywin is typically put up on a pedestal, and that's completely baffling. Many viewers and readers perceive him to be brilliant and badass, but everything that Tywin is famous for actually makes him seem like a complete moron upon further contemplation. Winning battles by absolutely obliterating your enemies is a terrible precedent to set for many reasons, but one of the biggest is that it essentially requires all of the Lannister children to maintain this scorched earth policy because Tywin's hyper-aggressive superiority complex has put them in a position where they almost always have to choose to kill or be killed.

And, his cruel and dishonorable behavior as well as Jaime's reputation as the Kingslayer essentially guarantees that even if Jaime completely changes as a person and becomes the hero he wants to be, he really can't ever become that in the society that he lives in simply because the stigma around the Lannisters is something he can't escape.

That is one of the great tragedies that Game of Thrones failed to articulate, and that is one of the biggest reasons why Jaime's character conclusion was so off-putting to the audience. Because the audience saw the result of where this character arc would naturally go, but the story never actually took the steps to get there. In fact, the show went out of its way to erase a lot of the obvious building blocks that are leading up to both Cersei and Jaime's demise that makes it clear that, while they're obviously responsible for their own choices and actions, the groundwork that Tywin's abuse and cruelty laid and set in stone was something that they couldn't control, prevent, or undo.

Game of Thrones largely presented Jaime's characterization with the implication that if he could only escape Cersei, he would be a good man. But the reality was, if only Tywin hadn't been his father, then all of his siblings would have been better people. They may not have been good, but they almost certainly wouldn't be the kingdom-destroying villains that they became.

I also think the TV series likely bungled his character in that his story is meant to be a subversion of the classic redemption arc rather than the straightforward bad guy to good guy story that Game of Thrones told. George RR Martin obviously doesn't like flawless characters, and nearly every person in A Song of Ice and Fire does good things and bad things all the time, they never go in a straight line from point A to point B. So, of course it was going to be incredibly jarring when the show did move Jaime in a straight line from point A to point B and then abruptly gave him an ending that is probably somewhat similar to his end in the books.

But with that in mind, for all of the faults in Game of Thrones and the way they handled Jaime's character arc, I don't really understand the idea that his character was ruined by his ending either. These characters are clearly designed to never be just one thing, and if Jaime killing King Aerys or trying to kill Bran doesn't singularly define his character, then going back to Cersei in the very end shouldn't either.

[potter-imagines]

Pre-Game Rituals (Fred Weasley)

Request: Hiya!! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Fred. Where Ginny kind of idolises her like at hogwarts she’s always goes up to the reader and asks if she can do her hair for quidditch practice or something...

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.3k

The common room was dead with activity for a Saturday, although that was in large part due to the anticipated match up between Gryffindor and Slytherin tonight. You loved attending Quidditch games, especially seeing as most of your friends were on the Gryffindor team and you got to cheer them on alongside Hermione. Getting to see your boyfriend knocking opponents around and acting as a human bowling ball was an obvious plus as well. Before most games, your boyfriend would coin you into a pre-game ritual, which happened to be a nap. He claimed these snooze sessions next to you gave him his energy to play but, you’d seen him take his O.W.L.s on two hours of sleep and a ‘stay-awake’ creation him and his twin brewed up. Cuddled up in bed sounded like a blissful dream to you on any given occasion but currently, you were in the middle of another event. Not only did you have a pre-game ritual with your boyfriend, you also had one with his little sister who was on the team as well. A few hours to the start of every Gryffindor match, Ginerva Weasley goes prancing around the castle with her hairbrush in hand, searching for you and today was no different.

Your fingers brushed through the ginger locks as you separated the left half of Ginny’s hair into three parts. The silk like strands slipped through your parted fingers as you detangled the frizzed knots. Ginny’s hair was by far the most beautiful you had seen so you hardly turned down her request when she’d ask you to braid her hair. Her deep red hair mixed with auburn tones and long wisps was a unique find outside Hogwarts. Having the Weasley siblings around meant you saw a head of ginger around nearly every corner. In the Muggle world though, you had only passed a few with hair that resembled theirs.

However in those sightings, you never saw a single person whose hair was as fiery and bold as Ginny’s. There were times Ginny despised the color as it made her stick out like a sore thumb and put no mystery in identifying her. Everyone knew on sight that she was a Weasley. To you, she felt the flaming shade complimented Ginny, as well as her personality, to perfection. The youngest Weasley differed immensely from her siblings. Not only in terms of gender, personality as well. It could be argued she was the bravest of the bunch. Already faster on the Quidditch pitch than her older brother Ron, and possibly sneakier than her older twin brothers, Fred and George.

With a small pull, you began to braid from the top of Ginny’s head. You raked in a new strand of hair after every weave. Ginny’s hair was not only long but thick and heavy in weight. It always took a bit more force and harsh knotting to make sure the braids actually stuck, especially seeing as she’d be flying like the wind in a few hours, she needed them tight.

Ginny Weasley sat lazily in a criss-cross style shoulders hunched forward. It was unusual for her not to be talking your ear off in these moments. Ginny always had a story to share, a secret to tell, or an embarrassing memory of her brothers to spill. There was yet to come a day where she ran out of cringe worthy moments of your boyfriend, and her brother, Fred, to leak. In those countless hair sessions, a friendship outside your connection to Ginny through Fred formed. Within a month of hanging out with the youngest Weasley, you sincerely considered her to be a close friend. Between the endless laughter and feistiness of Ginny, a strong friendship grew. You could tell something was off but with Ginny, it was better to give her time to come around and at least open up a bit before you questioned her.

That moment seemed to be approaching as the bottom section of the braid fell from your grasp as Ginny moved her frame abruptly. Her head falling to face the floor caused your hold in her hair to grab her body back a bit. Resting your hand on her shoulder, you leaned her back so she was up snug against the bottom of the couch you sat on.

“You gotta stop fidgeting, Gin. Your braid is gonna be crooked if you keep squirming around!” You smiled softly down at Ginny but as her head turned to face you, you were shocked to find her face was dull, long like a horse. That one-of-a-kind glimmering light that typical lit her eyes was blown out. The residue left a worrisome display instead. She sent you an apologetic look then turned back to face the fire. Her body was as straight as a line and as stiff as Harry’s Great Aunt.

“Sorry… just a bit distracted.” The raspiness in her voice made you wonder if she felt ill. Usually before a match the young girl couldn’t sit still! Her knees would bounce in excitement and you’d have to pin her down to get the braids in but today, she was hardly moving an inch. Pausing your braid in the middle of her scalp, you arch your brows to Ginny.

“What’s on your mind Ginny?”

“A bit nervous about the match- that’s all.” She dismissed your worries with a sigh, clearly still crackling under stress. Although Ginny was your boyfriend's little sister, with time, she became your little sister. You stopped thinking of her as Fred’s sister and one of your best friends. Seeing her flooded with pressure caused concern in you as well but she looked up to you and it was partially your duty to make sure the self doubts you had as a young girl never disrupted Ginny.

Giving the girl a gentle smile, your hands began to rake through her hair again. The first braid was half way done so you resumed your work as you reassured her,

“Slytherin never plays fair but I believe in you guys. You’re gonna pull it off, don’t stress. Just fly clear of Malfoy and Flint and you should be fine.”

“Yeah you’re right…” She trailed off. Furrowing your fixation on her hair, you slowly pried further.

“What else is the matter-” But before you could seek out any further information, your body jerked forward as two arms snaked around your upper body. You shrieked in freight then quickly whipped your head around to see Fred Weasley grinning down at you. Should’ve guessed, you thought to yourself. He was bound to come searching for you sooner or later and drag you to his room for a nap.

“Ah, I was wondering where the two of you snuck off to. Good afternoon, angel.” Fred leaned his head towards you to kiss your cheek. After leaving one, he left another, and another, and another until you had to push him back. You managed to hold onto the already started braid as you held Fred back with your hand on his chest. His hand immediately went to cover yours and squeeze on your grip, then pulled away glancing between his sister sitting in front of you and yourself.

“Hello, lovie. Where is the other, less annoying half of you?” You smiled a sickly sweet grin to Fred as he gave you a warning glare. Reaching up, you used your free hand to pull Fred down by his collar and placed a sugared kiss to his lips. Always ready for your affection Fred returned the kiss softly, his hands cupping around your chin to leaned your head back. An awkward cough ruined the mood as Ginny fidgetted silently. Fred released his grip on your face at once and threw his leg over the couch. Inviting himself into the conversation, he threw either leg over the maroon couch and slipped in besides you. His face was bright and gleeful, the apples of his cheeks a tint red. The orange hair sprouting down to his shoulders was brighter, shinier than normal. You felt your heart race at the sight. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, Fred glued himself snug to your side.

“Flirting with Alicia or Katie, can’t tell,” He tossed his head back to motion over to his twin talking up your friends in the corner. The three were laughing and talking hushly, all huddled close. You stopped your hands to glance over, then looked down as you felt Ginny moving beneath you.  Fred drummed his finger on the right unbraided, half of her head causing the girl to blindly swing her arm backwards trying to swat at him. You scolded him sternly, threatening him if he messed up the half you were working on. Chuckling at her flailing arms and your attempt at being stern, Fred leaned back into the couch and tossed his arm around your shoulder. “You ready for the big match, Gin?”

Although the only portion visible was the backside of her head, both Fred and yourself watched her shudder and wince at the inquiry. Fred was happier than ever which was a typical mood for him on any given day but especially the day of a match. Most felt the nervous butterflies and sickening feeling before an important game but Fred? You were almost 100% positive Fred had never experienced the feeling of anxiousness. His confidence seemed to flourish under pressure.

Ginny was never to the big stage, though. She didn’t bask in the glory and attention the same way her brothers did. There was that fear of not living up to everyones expectations that crept into her mind as she took the pitch each match. Ginny ducked her head as she scratched the side of her neck.

“Uh huh.” Ginny’s sigh earned a frown on Fred’s lips. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t adorable. The concern read from his features as he sent you a short look. He had an idea based off the alarming gleam in your eyes, but as her brother, he wasn’t willing to back off. His long arms tightened around your shoulder as he tilted his head to Ginny in question.

“You don’t sound very confident at all- what’s the matter with you? It’s the biggest match of the season!” He cheered loudly, causing the young girl to jump in her spot. You tucked the three strands in a weaving pattern trying everything in your power to finish as quickly as you could so Ginny would be free to escape this conversation. Maybe it was a male thing but Fred was just not reading the room correctly. Between Ginny’s uncomfortable shifting and your stern stares, he still just wasn’t understanding her nerves. You snatched the hair tie off the couch cushion and wrapped it around the end of her braid. Tapping his side with your elbow, you looked to Fred sternly.

“I think she realizes that, Fred. Let’s not stress her out even more.” Your tone was pointed and you expected Fred to pick up but clearly, it went straight over his head. This earned a raspy chuckle of disbelief from Fred. Slipping his grip from your waist, Fred leaned forward. Placing his elbows on his knees, his chin rested in the palm of his hands. He had a teasing look as he scoffed,

“Stressed? Since when has a game ever stressed you out, Ginny? You’re the youngest starter on our team! There’s no need to be worried about anything.” Fred’s face was bright with excitement at thought at the upcoming match. His rosy cheeks were squished as he smiled gleefully. A loud groan emanated from Ginny as she threw her head back in frustration, though remained silent. Her once lively orbs reddening by the second as salty tears brimmed. The grin vanished from Fred’s face. He turned to you in confusion, his face resembling that of a wounded puppy.

At times, Fred had moments where he didn’t particularly like his little sister, but he always loved her. It was the brotherly instinct in him; the constant need to keep a watchful eye out for Ginny. He knew she could hold her own, but he couldn’t help that protective nature. Sending him a sharp look, you muttered quietly under your breath,

“Nice work…”

The common room was slowly beginning to scatter out as students made the most of their time before the big match. You caught a glimpse of George walking out the portrait with Lee by his side. You wondered what kind of mischief they were up to, it certainly couldn’t be anything good. Harry and Ron were trudging up the staircase to their room assumingly and Hermione was sitting on the opposite side of the room reading quietly. The atmosphere was relaxed like the calm before a storm. Win or lose, the common room would be buzzing with energy tonight. It was just a matter of happy celebration, or tense aftermath of defeat.

You reached out for the right half of Ginny’s hair and repeated your steps. You parted the bright strands and braided them tightly.

Fred on the other hand was lost to his sister’s emotions and eager for answers. Reaching forward, Fred squeezed Ginny’s shoulder in a comforting manner. His face was scrunched together in concern as he sweetly asked her,

“… what’s the matter, little one? I’m sure your big brother can help.”

You had to physically bite your tongue to keep from ‘aweing’ at him. The one thing you loved more than anything about Fred was how caring and comforting he could be. Your heart was dripping in adoration. There had been a handful of moments you heard Fred refer to Ginny as ‘Little One’. It was typically in mocking sense or playful, however in her fragile moments, it was said with such serenity and gentleness. He was always there to help his little sister and protect her. You couldn’t help but imagine how great of a dad Fred would be in the future. He was the only man you could ever see yourself with and knowing how great of a person he truly is just made you even more certain.

Standing from the couch, Fred shuffled around the two of you so he was sitting in front of Ginny. She sniffled quietly using the sleeve of her sweater to rub her eyes. Your eyes darted between the half finished braid and the pair. Fred was patient in giving Ginny her time and finally, she came around.

“What if I lose it for us? If we don’t win, everyone is gonna hate me! It’ll be my fault and Oliver will probably kick me off the team and I’ll have nothing! And you’ll all be mad at me and mum and dad will be disappointed-” Her frantic ramble was shut down when Fred started to talk over her. It was a crazy thought; one he could not allow to marinate in her mind.

“What’re you talking about? Do you even hear yourself, Ginny?” His voice was booming causing both Ginny and yourself to jump in surprise. Your eyes met for a brief second before he took a deep breath, “First off; Oliver Wood has lost a handful of matches for us and he’s still our captain. I mean, Harry has fallen off his bloody broomstick how many times and he’s still our top Seeker! You’re the best one on that pitch Ginny- well besides George and I, but you know what I mean.” Fred chuckled a bit as a small smile cracked on Ginny’s lips. Her eyes lifted from the ground to glance up at her brother. From your spot on the couch, you couldn’t read her features. You were also too invested in the braid to look away. But Fred bending down to wrap his arms around his sister and practically squish her was answer enough. Ginny squealed at Fred’s bone crushing grip, pleading with him to let go.

You rolled your eyes at the siblings, laughing to yourself as you finished securing the hair tie in the finished braid. Leaning back you smoothed your fingers over the weaved pattern. Her hair was somehow more ginger in this style and you adored it. Peaking your head over Ginny’s shoulder, you pointed out,

“And I don’t think it’s even possible for your parents to be disappointed in you. Fred, George and Ron destroyed the family car and your parents still love them and forgave them.”

“Well I wouldn’t say forgave-” Fred winced as he recalled the event. It had been years and Molly still brought it up when she was angry with the boys. They all knew it was something they’d never fully live down in Molly’s eyes. Even on her deathbed Fred was certain she’d find a way to bring it up. Flicking the material of his sweatshirt, you glared playful at Fred for his interruption. You wrapped Ginny in a hug from behind, your arms captured around her shoulders. She melted in your grip, embracing your comforting hold. Fred folded his legs together and just sort of watched.

There was a sudden jolt of awe, that moment where everything just clicked. It came out of nowhere like a car speeding through a red light. His back pressed into the coffee table for support while he just stared. There was no one more important in this world to Fred Weasley than his family. Seeing his little sister hurt and finding solace in you, it was difficult for Fred to string together the proper words on how it made him feel. The emotions brewing inside him were entirely new- like the feeling of opening presents on Christmas morning and finding you got everything that you asked for. This sheer hypnotic haze that covered Fred went unbeknownst to you as your attention stayed locked on Ginny.

“What I’m trying to say is, it really is just a game. No one's gonna disown you if you make a mistake; Freddie here makes twenty mistakes before breakfast every morning. And even if they are bigger and play dirty, you’re faster and smarter than their entire lineup combined. We all believe in you, Ginny. I’ve seen you do it a million different times and I’ll be right there cheering you on.” Letting go of her, your head lifted to greet the eyes of Fred Weasley. Immediately you took notice of the change in his gaze. Still mesmerizing as ever to be under, yet heavier than before. Instead of throwing a childish jab back, he just held your stare, speechless for once.

Your head tilted in confusion at his odd behavior as Ginny placed her hands on either side of her body to push herself up. This seemed to pull Fred from his trance as he mimicked her actions and stood from the floor. Brushing off her pants and sweater, she gave you both a look of gratitude and said,

“Thank you, Y/n. It really means a lot- thank you too, Freddie.”

“ ‘course, we’ll always be here for you- even if we do lose, you’ll still be my favorite sister.” Fred said with a cheek smirk. Ginny rolled her eyes in slight annoyance. Just when he was sweet, he was sour once again.

“I’m your only sister Fred but thanks. I should probably go get some homework finished so I’ll see you down at the pitch later. Thanks for doing my hair, Y/n. You’re the best- I wish you really were my sister.”

“So you’re telling me, after all this time, I’m not your sister?” You asked teasingly. Ginny laughed happily, clearly pleased with your response. Fred knew how much Ginny looked up to you, how badly she wants to follow in your footsteps, and it makes him thrilled. Not only does he loves how much his sister adores you, but how great of a role model you are to her. He understood how easy it could be to shove her away or dismiss her, and Fred wouldn’t blame you if you did. However you never once turned Ginny away and it played a role in his feelings evolving so intensely. Her cheeks tinted red as she gave you one last wave and skipped up the steps to her dorm. As she disappeared from view, you looked over to Fred only to see his eyes already planted on you. The weight of his stare was suffocating and made you fidget. The second you met his gaze, Fred’s mouth dropped open as he confessed,

“I’m in love with you.” The word vomit rolled effortlessly from his lips. The contagious smile Fred seemed to constantly cause rose to your face. Having been together for some years, Fred was no stranger to broadcasting his feelings for you. Something about this felt more serious than the other times. Sinking into the cushion, you nodded over to the boy in agreeance.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Shaking his head, Fred lunged forward so he was kneeling in front of you. His hands slipped inside your own as he set your intertwined hands in your lap. That playfulness has been swept away as his eyes read full honesty. Fred’s soft features were rough, sharp on the edges as his jaw clenched with tension. Giving your hand a loving squeeze, Fred locked his eyes on yours.

“No, Y/n, I’m like, Alice fell down the rabbit hole, deeply in love with you- I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Just… promise me you’ll stick around, okay?” His voice was filled with worry and fear. You jumped forward to crunch him in a tight embrace. Fred chuckled at your abruptness but exchanged the hug nonetheless. His fingers trailed up and down the bones of your spine drawing circles and shapes as he rubbed your back. You could feel his nose pressing into your hair and soon enough, a sloppy kiss was planted on your head. Grinning like a fool, you glanced up to him with a cheesy smile.

“Hate to break it to you, Fred, but I’m not going anywhere, sorry.” You remarked, reaching up on your tippy toes to kiss his lips. Fred leaned into your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist for support. As he pulled away, you noticed that one of a kind glint reached his eyes. Before you could hypothesize his next move, Fred’s arm swooped around your lower back to scoop you up from your legs. He lifted you up and repositioned so he was carrying you in his arms. You hollered in surprise as Fred just chuckled.

“Good, don’t think I’d let you anyhow, angel. Now c’mon, someone owes me a nap.” He stated, sending you a cheeky wink. Fred began to walk towards the stairwell heading towards the boys dormitory. Clinging to his arm, you glared deathly to Fred.

“If you drop me I am writing to Molly the second I can reach a quill and parchment.” You threatened. Fred walked through the opening to the staircase then started to skip up the steps, still holding your body. You shook with every step, trying your best to mask your giggles with angry looks and sneers. Tightening his face, Fred thought on it for a moment then scowled at the idea.

“Relax, Y/n. Don’t have to take it that far- I just said I’m in love with you and that’s how you’re gonna treat me.” He teased you. His room was on the second to top floor and you could tell you were approaching by the way he slowed down. Fred’s fingers tickled at your side as he made his way towards his door. Instead of setting you down, Fred swung the door open still grasping on to you. He wasted no time slamming the door shut and practically flinging you onto his bed. Your melodic laughter filled every inch of his room making Fred glow red in pleasure. He tugged off his robes and tie, then crawled into his bed next to you. You reached over the side of the mattress for a comfy shirt of his and some pajama pants he kept lying around. He couldn’t tear his gaze, nor did he want to. Winking over to Fred, you threw his comforter over your body and cuddled up next to him.

“If it’s any constellation, I’m like, furthest rock down in the ocean, deeply in love with you.” You admitted softly. Fred’s head snapped down in your direction as he grinned to himself,

“I reckon that’s gotta count for something, love. But could we switch so I’m the little spoon? You know we’ll lose the match if I’m not and then it’ll be your fault, not Ginny’s.”

You let out a dramatic groan as you flipped around to throw your arm over Fred. His face was lit in joy as he snuggled into your hold. You smiled to yourself as you felt his lips brush against your hand and leave a small trail of kisses on each finger. Fred and his rituals, you laughed to yourself as the feeling of sleep entered your body and your eyes fell shut. The soothing sound of Fred humming was a perfect lullaby for any person to find sleep in but it had become your favorite sound. Soon, Fred would have to get ready and go face Slytherin but for now, your arms seemed to be the only place he wanted to be.

[char-lotteral]

Ticket Booth

Great. Just what she needed.

Amity being stood up on her blind date.

Again.

"This is just ridiculous." She sighs to herself, impatiently alternating between checking her phone and the watch on her wrist just to avoid human confrontation from any passersby on the street.

I mean, is she surprised? Not really. Did she hope it would turn out different? Kinda

Not like this was the first time Ed and Em had set her up on another blind date. You should head out more! Meet new people, get a change of environment!

New people, my ass. If ever she gets a chance to meet these said new people, that is.

Amity checks her phone again with a big bright 8:10 PM, humiliating her at every passing second. Tick, tick, tick. There's that sound of that unnecessarily large wall clock hung in front of the movie theaters, more people arriving in front of the ticket booth, hands interlaced and smiles all warm and happy, and goddammit; her date was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago!

The wind's gotten colder, the theaters getting overcrowded, her feet hurt from standing too much, and in attempt to hide herself from the sad, despicable, cynical reality of it all, she huddles herself inside her massive winter cloak, tendrils of bubblegum hair sticking out from the side of her hoodie.

Why God, why did she agree to go to this?!

"Are you waiting for someone?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, Amity whips her attention towards the (cute) lady behind the ticket booth. Not one for initiating conversations, she coughs to suppress her shyness and answers, "Uh y-yeah. I have a um, a date. I'm waiting for them."

The lady behind the ticket booth smiles this really cute smile of hers and suddenly Amity has forgotten her name altogether. "You know, I don't wanna sound rude or anything, but the movie starts at exactly 8:15. And I don't think you'll be able to see it if you're gonna be out here, freezing in the cold."

She laughs tucking a hair behind her ear. "Yeah well, this isn't my first time being stood up so I guess I'm used to it at this point."

"Wait, you're being stood up?"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now she thinks you're some hopeless romantic.

Shaking her head frantically, she manages to salvage herself from this stranger that she has a sudden urge to impress all of a sudden. "W-What? No! I meant my date was um busy and they texted me too late, so I guess I am kinda freezing my ass off outside the movie theater. But not because I was waiting for them the entire evening! I-I have better things to do than um..."

Being stood up by my blind date who hasn't even met me! Crap, maybe I am the problem?

"Better things to do like stand outside in the freezing cold?"

Her eyes dart towards the ticket lady who no doubt is feeling sympathetic for her pathetic ass and as she does, there's still that smile of hers etched on her face, looking down at her with some sympathy but she doesn't mind, she likes how she's looking at her. Had she already mentioned she thought she was cute?

"O-Or that." Amity answers pathetically, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

"Tell you what," The lady in the booth begins. "Maybe I can refund you for the tickets? I won't tell my boss or anything, they'll be fine with it."

Ticket lady was being awfully nice to her, which was strange because most strangers usually had a fight or flight response whenever they saw Amity talking to them, probably because of her intimidating aura, which she doesn't really blame them for. This cute ticket lady on the other hand, was a whole different story.

"Oh no, my sister's already paid for the tickets online, plus I don't think these two tickets are refundable so um, I guess I'll just have to watch this movie alone or maybe sell my ticket to someone who actually has a date." She giggles again, internally sorry for her own situation.

The cute ticket lady pauses for a second, attention a bit distant and elbows perched above her desk. Amity debates with herself whether or not she should just say fuck it and watch the movies alone, at least until ticket lady finally looks up and meets her eye to eye. And woah, she never knew eyes could look that brown.

"Hey, how about I watch it with ya?"

... What?

"What?" She parrots her thoughts. I'm sorry did she hear that right?

The lady smiles even wider, eyes pinched from the apples of her cheeks and a smile so bright, it could rival the stars above them. "You heard me. I wanna watch it with you!"

"You wanna... watch it with me?"

" 'Course I would. That is, if you'll allow me? I promise I'll pay for the tickets, I'm not scamming you or something."

"Oh um, can I ask why?"

The lady laughs again, oblivious to the damage she's been doing to Amity's poor stomach. Butterflies seemed like a stupid analogy, it was like the entire zoo came in to visit. "I can't let a pretty girl walk inside that movie theater all alone. There might be some serial killers inside there."

Oh.

Well, this turned out to be the best possible scenario she could come up with.

Pretty girl? Her?

This night just keeps getting better and better.

Feeling uncharacteristically playful, she refutes back, cheeks ablaze by the little compliment. "And how do I know that you're not a serial killer, plotting to bury my body?"

Her eyes are squinting from absolute mirth, clearly not expecting her to reply back. "I can prove to you that I am not, in fact, a serial killer by politely introducing myself. "Luz Noceda. College student by day, billionaire philanthropist by night."

"By billionaire philanthropist, do you mean ticket booth manager? Because I think both are equally badass."

Luz shrugs, unfazed. "Eh, its hard living the double life. I have to keep my identity hidden so no one assassinates me in broad daylight."

Simultaneously, they both laugh at their dumb topic, and Amity has never felt this alight with another person before. Her chest feels tighter, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, this night might not be as bad as she initially thought it would be.

"So, have I proven myself worthy? Can I watch it with you?" Luz is practically bouncing on her feet, tail wagging like a retriever waiting for her treat. She looks so damn adorable behind the ticket booth that Amity's heart threatens to jump out of her throat and melt right in front of her.

So what if a cute girl wants to watch a movie with you? Big deal! It's not like she's asking for your hand in marriage. It's not like it's a date or anything.

Oh God, is it a date?! Oh no, no, no. What has she gotten herself into?!

What if she says yes and embarrasses herself right in front of her? They barely even know each other! They don't know each other at all! What if this really, really cute girl doesn't actually like her and is just doing this out of pity and turns out they'll never see each other again, and, and—

"Hey, earth to bubblegum, I'm still here. In case, you forgot. I don't wanna be all rude or anything—"

"N-No!" Amity cuts her off so quickly, she's on the verge of a panic attack. "You can watch it with me! We can watch it t-together! I'd l-love to!"

Smooth move Blight, smooth move.

Her words seemed to be enough to calm Luz down and she feels like she has God to personally thank for for that beautiful smile of hers. Honestly, how can one smile like that? It's that type of smile that could brighten an entire room or the physical embodiment of joy, youth and everything else good in the world.

"Wait, but what about the ticket booth? Are you allowed to leave it alone?" Concerned, Amity asks Luz as she walks out of the booth.

"Nah, Eda won't mind. I think. I-I'll be back before she even notices I'm gone. Won't be a problem! Hopefully." Taking off her cap, Luz locks the door behind her, tucking the key safely in her pocket. She looks back at Amity, eyes gleaming from the adventure of it all. Eyes that remind her of chestnut and coffee on a cold, serene morn. And a low, pixie cut to tie it all together.

Luz hands out her palm, anticipation and adrenaline coursing through her, she's smiling that sunny smile of hers again, cheeks flushed and hair a mess from the stuffy cap and Amity thinks to herself again that wow, she really is cute.

"You ready?"

Two words, two simple words from a stranger she's never even met before. What would Ed and Em think if they saw her right now, watching movies with a random girl she doesn't even know? Her instincts are telling her to go, leave, maybe find another night to watch the movies, you can pay for the tickets another day, you barely even know this person!

But when Amity finally looks up from her hand to those chestnut eyes and that smile of pure unabashed warmth, she's made her decision.

She's positive that her cheeks are the brightest shade of red, practically glowing under the cheap porch light, but if she squints, just enough, the same shade of red are on Luz's cheeks too, flushed and cherry red, just as she was. Nervous albeit excited, just as she was.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[novelist-becca]

Mama's here

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Luz Noceda

Summary: Luz and Eda have a rough night after Lilith and Gwendolyn leave.

AO3

After Lilith and her mother left, things were…uneventful to say the least. Almost.

Eda was tired. Luz was tired. Everyone was tired. To put it simply, the events of that day were finally catching up.

True to her word, Eda flopped onto the couch immediately.

Luz had come back inside, noticed her, and approached cautiously. After...everything, the girl wasn’t sure if Eda wanted to talk. But Luz wanted to say something nonetheless. The guilt was practically gnawing at her chest. For the time being, she settled on sitting on the floor against the couch, next to Eda’s head.

“Eda?” Luz started. The witch turned her head to her in response, her eyes tired. It hurt all the more for Luz to look at her mentor like this. “I know you’re tired, but...can I say something?”

“Hm?” Eda hummed in response. Luz took this as a signal to continue.

“I’m sorry. About everything tonight.” Luz said.

“Kid, it's fine.”

“No, it's not. I shouldn't have gotten involved. I only wanted to help you, but- I think I made things worse by listening to your mom.” Luz explained. Eda was looking at her. That meant that she was at least listening. “I thought that if I helped her cure you, the rift between you and her would be mended.” Luz almost mentioned that it felt like fixing the rift between her and her own mother, but holds her tongue. This isn’t about her.

Eda sits up in her spot on the couch, facing Luz. “Luz, it’s- it’s okay.”

But Luz continued, needing to get this across to her mentor. “But I’m the one who set up the apple blood signs. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have fallen into Gwen’s traps, which almost got you killed! I swear, I tried to stop her, Eda. I had no idea she would do all that stuff! Heck, I-I had an elixir ready for you- I was ready to bail! But...it was the last second. You turned into the beast again, and it’s my fault.” She finished with a sigh. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve trusted your judgement. You have every right to be mad at me.”

Eda glanced to the side, choosing her words carefully. It was clear that what happened weighed heavily on the kid, as would anything else. Luz, the selfless soul she was, was only trying to help her.

“Luz, I'm not mad. It’s okay. I get it.” The witch says, touching Luz’s shoulder. “You had no idea my mom would hide the elixirs. You didn’t know she would get that extreme. If anything, I should’ve told you more about her sooner. I could already tell her ‘cures’ were bullshit anyway after a few years. It’s not on you.”

Luz looked at her with unsure eyes. “But I still played a part in what happened. You turned into the owl beast because I was too desperate to know a way back to the human realm. And...now I know that Gwen fell for a stupid scam because she was desperate to help her daughter.” Memories come back to Luz of people in the human world just like Gwen, except they were less willing to change when presented with facts.

Eda squeezed the girl’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Hey. Did you forget what happened tonight? Mom finally got it into her head that I don’t want a cure. She’s willing to give the elixirs a chance, and-” The witch’s smile faltered and she looked down as she remembered. “She’s going to make things right with Lily. I-I know it.”

Seeing the sadness in Eda’s eyes, Luz takes her mentor’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry about Lilith too, Eda. I can’t imagine how much it hurt for her to leave. She’s your sister, and she was only here for a few weeks.” Luz knows Eda and her sister were close, and despite everything that happened between them all, Luz has to admit she is starting to miss her too.

“And now she’s gone.” Added Eda, who squeezed the girl’s hand.

“Don't worry, I'm sure she misses you too. And King and I are still here for you, Eda.” Luz reminds her. “Remember?”

Eda smiles again. Why did the kid have to be so good? “I know, kid.” she wants to make sure to remember that and also return the favor moving forward. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being so sweet.” Eda says fondly with a yawn. She places a hand on Luz’s head, stroking her hair gently. “Honestly, what did I do to deserve you...?”

A light blush spread over Luz’s cheeks as she leaned into the touch. “Dunno, just got lucky I guess…”

About a minute passed before Luz was close to dozing off on her mentor’s lap. Seeing this, Eda finally decided it was time to settle in for the night. Titan knows both of them need it.

“Well-” Eda clicked her tongue, gently shaking the kid’s shoulder. “I think it’s time we both get to bed, dontcha think?”

Luz slowly stood up from her spot on the floor, rubbing her eyes. “You’re right…” she yawned.

Eda stood up as well, stretching out her back. Remind me to not fall asleep sitting up again.

“Sooo, if you need me, Luz, I’ll be in my nest-”

Suddenly, Luz had grabbed Eda’s arm. “A-Actually, umm…” The girl tried to choose the right words, because she didn’t know if she could sleep alone tonight, not after today. She couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Can...may I sleep with you in the nest tonight? I don’t wanna be alone.” Luz asks sheepishly, closing her eyes, not wanting to see Eda’s reaction. To her surprise, Eda has a small smile on her face.

“‘Course you can, kiddo.” Eda says, patting the kid’s shoulder in reassurance. She almost asks why, but a part of her feels that she already knows the answer, and that the kid would rather not say. Besides, the witch could use some company other than King tonight.

The girl sighs in relief, her body relaxing. “Thanks Eda.”

“Aight then, you go change, and uh, I’ll be up in my room.”

And if Eda noticed how Luz held her hand as they both went upstairs, she didn’t say.

~

By the time Luz had changed in her room, Eda was already lying down in her nest, still in her dress since she was too tired to get into her own pajamas. She was on the verge of falling asleep, until Luz had appeared in the doorway in her pajamas holding a large pillow and her sleeping bag. She looked unsure of herself until Eda sat up and nodded her head, gesturing for Luz to come in.

The kid eagerly walked over to the nest, already trying to scramble inside, albeit very clumsily. Eda snorted at the adorableness of it all, but reached out.

“Hey hey, slow down there, kid. Let me help you with that.” Eda tried, keeping her voice soft so she doesn't wake King.

Luz shook her head. “Nooo, I'm fine. I can do it. The walls of the nest aren't that high…” Her words were slurred. She obviously was already getting tired, the grip on her stuff weakening. But the witch wouldn't give up.

“Luz, really. You're tired and you're carrying a huge pillow plus a sleeping bag. You could easily trip.” Eda insisted, reaching a hand out. “And trust me, you don't wanna pass out on the floor.”

“I'm fiiiine.” Luz yawned.

The witch rolled her eyes at the stubbornness and took the pillow, placing it in the nest along with the sleeping bag, surprising Luz, but she didn't protest.

Said human girl was about to climb in when two bony hands grabbed her arms and yanked her up and inside with a surprised ‘oh!’

“C’mon kiddo, get in here.” Eda said, releasing her and allowing the kid to get comfortable while adjusting her position herself. Now they were both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“Hey…” Luz yawned again.

“Hey.” Eda whispered tiredly. Next to her, Luz was all tucked inside her sleeping bag, one hand hesitantly sticking out, as if reaching out to her. Eda didn’t know why, but she stuck her hand out, close enough to Luz’s.

The events of the day were, to say the least, exhausting. From Gwendolyn visiting, to the old woman making things worse, to Lilith getting more and more stressed by her presence leading to the curse affecting her, to both sisters transforming, to Lilith leaving after weeks of living there.

But as usual, it all worked out okay in the end.

“Well...sleep well, Eda.” Luz murmured, and within a minute, she was asleep.

“You too, kiddo.”

~

“AH!”

Eda bolted up in her nest, shaking and breathing heavily. She looked around frantically, making sure she was truly safe.

So it was one of those nights tonight.

Eda had that dream again. The one where things had gone...differently during the bridge duel. The witch suppressed a sob and hid her face in her hands as the horrible images replayed in her head.

Luz was thrown over the side of the bridge, like usual, except...Eda couldn’t catch her. Luz had, to her mentor’s horror, been impaled by the spikes, screaming out in pain as she bled out while Eda was helpless to watch the poor girl die while she herself had succumbed to the curse.

There was nothing she could do.

The witch took some deep breaths, trying to remind herself that it wasn’t real, that her kid - Luz was fine, she was safe, they were all safe and -

Next to her, Eda heard the sounds of rustling of fabric and soft crying. It was Luz. And she was tangled up inside her sleeping bag, tossing and turning. Her face was scrunched up in discomfort, and she seemed to be fighting something only she could see.

“Luz?” Eda called out softly, taking Luz’s shoulder and shaking it. The writhing girl had tears coming down her cheeks, and started kicking out. “Luz?!” she said, alarm creeping into her voice. “Hey, wake u-”

Suddenly, Luz stirred awake, eyes wide with fear. She tried to sit up, but was trapped by her zipped up sleep cocoon, making her begin to panic and breathe heavily. The girl didn’t know what was going on, but whatever was binding her down, she wanted out.

The sight of it made Eda’s heart crack. So she quickly unzipped the damn thing, freeing the panicking kid. She helped Luz into a comfortable sitting position, curling an arm around her shaking body.

“Luz, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. You're safe. I’m here,” Eda says, pulling Luz close as the girl snuggled closer in return, burying her face in her chest. “Easy there.”

“I-” Luz choked out as she clung tight to the back of the witch’s dress. “I-I can’t- Mamí -”

Eda held her tighter and tried to ignore the feeling that came with what Luz just said. “Shh, shhh, mama’s here, you’re safe, kid,” She repeated, combing a hand through the girl’s hair over and over. “Jus-just breathe, okay? I got you.” She could feel her own throat tightening, and the tears began to form at the corner of her eyes. Whether she was comforting herself or Luz, she didn’t know. Luz needed her.

“I got you…”

As Eda cradled and rocked Luz in her arms, she felt the way her human shook with sobs, and it broke her heart. She knew what it was like to wake up scared and alone, and she;ll be damned if her kid went through the same. All she could do was hold Luz close and tight like her own child and try to help her.

At the same time, Eda was just glad Luz was alive. She wouldn’t forgive herself if anything had happened to her. The child -- her child at this point --, although scared and crying, was enough to reassure her that she was safe. That they were both safe.

Shit, kid, I wish I knew how to make this all go away.

“Eda…?” A small, scratchy voice squeaked.

Eda looks down at the girl, pulling away only a little bit, keeping her arms wrapped protectively around her. “Hey, kiddo.” she says softly. Luz looks back up at her with tired, glossy eyes. “You okay?” She asks, even though it is a stupid question. Of course she isn’t okay.

“Mmh.” Luz responds. “I don’t know…”

“That’s okay,” Eda says, adjusting Luz so that her head is resting on the witch’s shoulder.

A small smile forms on Luz’s face. “You’re alive.”

Eda nods. “That’s right.” So are you.

“I’m glad…” Luz murmurs. Then her eyes widen. “The dream - it was the bridge again, I-I was on the…a-and you were…” She squeezes her eyes shut and burrows close to the witch, going in for another hug. “I’m sorry.”

Eda’s breath hitches and she returns the embrace easily, because for Titan's sake, she needs one too.

“Oh, Luz, it’s okay…” Eda rests her cheek on top of Luz’s head, holding her tight once more as she tries to hold back tears. “I'm here.”

“I know it’s just a dream, but I was so scared. It could've been real.”

“I know, but it's over. We’re all okay, thanks to you.” Eda reassures, continuing to stroke her hair.

“Thank you…” Luz clings tighter. “'m sorry for waking you up.”

Eda pulls back to look her in the eyes. “Don't apologize, Luz. In fact…I had the same nightmare.”

“Really?” Luz gasps softly.

Eda nods. “Mm-hm. When I woke up, I really thought you were…” she stops there, not needing to elaborate further. “But I know you're still alive and well.”

Because I really don't know what I’d do if I lost you.

The witch cups Luz’s cheek, and Luz leans into the touch.

“I don't know what I'd do if I lost you.” Luz says, resting her head on the witch’s chest.

“You won't, you won't. I’m not going anywhere.” Eda promises.

After a while, Eda looked down to see Luz starting to drift off.

“You ready to try to go back to sleep, kiddo?” She asks. But Luz opens her eyes and shakes her head.

“I dunno, Eda…”

Eda grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Luz, draping the top part over her head. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here, and I won’t let ‘em get to you. Okay?”

As Luz was laid down in the nest, a warm feeling sprouted in her chest. The way Eda’s been treating her lately has been soft, kind, and… god, Eda was just being so good to her.

And it reminded her of her mother.

She didn’t know how to feel about that. But it was nice.

“You’re a lot like her, Eda.” Luz says to the witch.

“Who?”

“My mom. You take care of me...”

Eda looks away at that, not sure of what to say. She still wasn’t used to the idea of being a mother, especially after the fiasco that was her own mom’s visit, and yet taking care of Luz and King came naturally to her. She won’t admit it, but she likes the warm, fuzzy feeling it gives her.

“Well, I’m glad I get to take care of you,” She says simply. And it’s true.

Eda settles down next to Luz. “Now, let’s get some shut-eye, yeah?” She says, kissing Luz’s forehead.

Luz snuggles closer to Eda tucking her head under her chin, letting the older witch wrap an arm around her swaddled body.

“Good night, mamá…” Luz mutters.

The last thing she remembers before drifting off was a warm feeling of safety.