#i cant believe they cut out “father of horses”

[chichariann]

DRAWING PERCY SERIES SCENES

"You have been claimed by Poseidon, earthshaker, stormbringer [FATHER OF HORSES]. Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

LOVE THIS SCENE AAAAASAAAAAAAGGGGGJHHH

Im drawing scenes from the show now too to cope

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

Dark!Aemond x reader

Ashes Burn: chapter two

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, gore, blood, dubcon

🔷Summary: Your hometown will soon fall, and you become noticed by the one-eyed Kinslayer who lays siege to it.

🔷Author's note: Dark!Aemond is not something i throw around lightly. It is not something i take lightly as a warning. Just so you know. Some people sometimes click on dark aemond but they dont want dark aemond, and thats fine but this is dark dark aemond so i warn ya as my author, my job is to warn ya (((apparently))

🔷Wordcount :7939 (THAT CANT BE RIGHT THATS HUGE)

Warnings below the cut but mind your step!

Gore, abuse, kicking heads, dub-con, licking, fingering (f) orgasm denial, orgasm control, smut, spankings, pussy smacking, erections, blood, guards are terrified of aemond. Trauma. Dead family members. Normal hotd stuff, basically.

Did you miss part one? Catch up

or dont and jump right in.

Im not your parental figure.

im your wine aunt

You hold your brother's head above your own as you are paraded around town. Terrified villagers have been forced out of their homes and are forced to watch the parade of your brother's body. Aemond has placed you in front of him on the horse, his hands casually holding the reins of the horse and your belly that is filled with fear and anxiety.

You try to remain strong and brave but everyone knows when you are paraded around what will await you. Your ass still stings from where he hit you earlier. His intentions are clear as crystal and you fear you won't be a maiden for much longer.

You shake and tremble on the horse, muttering prayers you learned and messing them up in the process that is how fast you are muttering them. 

People you have known all your life all rounded up and watch as you and the prince parade over a road of blood and corpses, him as the clear Victor of this battle. 

You eventually reach your home, your arms hurt from holding the head. Aemond simply grabs your wrists, taking your brother's head from you. You can make out Karst's eyes and his wonderful features that remind you of your father.

He laughs as he throws your brother's head on the tiles outside of your home, in the courtyard. Aemond kicks it through a window inside, causing a disturbance and an uproar of terrified servants. He does not bother to collect you. For a moment there is hope.

You take the reins he abandoned, your ears pulsing with blood as you feel your heartbeat rise. Until a voice reminds you coldly that you are a prince's pet now. An object for the prince to entertain himself with. ‘’Please, my Lady. The prince shall punish you if dared to run. He will capture you, and so many innocents will die as punishment.’’ It is the Dornish commander.

You blink back tears.

‘’I don't care.’’ Yes, you do. You care and you care too much at that, sadly. But he made you taste your brother's blood. He has your family, yes. But they are not bastards. They are pure blooded and you know Aemond will kill you once you bore him.

The commander decides to risk his life by standing in front of the horse. ‘’Yes you do, my Lady. You have a good, gentle heart. Please get off the horse, I won't tell him. I promise.’’ You have to believe him. You have to trust he will keep his word. You lower yourself from the horse and follow the Dornish commander back inside your old house.

Already, you can see someone destroyed antique vases by the door. Two soldiers are busy slamming a chest and trying to break it. It is locked tightly and contains scrolls. You doubt they know that, however. For them it could contain riches, fame and money. No one, not a single commander, the Dornish one included, stops them from ramsacking your home. 

 You find Aemond sitting on a chair in the dining area, watching as terrified servants run around him. Some have dropped food and plates.  ‘’Someone collect me my pet.’’  He orders. You know it is you who he speaks of.

He notices you and grins, straightening his back. ‘’Ah, there you are. I was just about to fetch you.’’ You refuse to meet his eye. He grins, letting you be rebellious. ‘’I like your home. It is quite poorly decorated but it fits you.’’  There is an insult there yet you do not dare to defend yourself.

The Dornish commander gently gives you a slight push so you stumble in the direction of the prince. Aemond puts the head of your brother on the table, crossing his own legs. ‘’You must think me a monster, feeding all those traitors to my dragon.’’ You agree but you know he will turn the tale around. He wants you to see it from his point of view.

You huff. ‘’They were no traitors. A traitor would have run.’’ And that is the truth. Karst was not a traitor. Diandra was not a traitor. Neither was your father or the men who followed him. They were heroes and loyal and fought for their home.

He gets up.

The prince grabs you suddenly by the hips, bringing your bodies closer to one another. His hot breath grazes over your cheeks as you feel blood rush to it. ‘’So she speaks, at long last. I was worried you had lost your tongue.’’ He mocks, you can tell he was never worried about your inability to speak ever again.

You put his hands from your hips.

‘’Only my appetite.’’ You remark. Aemond does not seem to hear you. His gaze is focused on Midy, your favourite kitchen maid. She is as always whistling and singing to herself when preparing food, even now where other servants are terrified or in hiding. She is a special soul, your father would say.

You worry for Midy, as you can see Aemond has clearly noticed her. ‘’You. You have a name, I presume?’’ Midy nods, turning around with a broad smile, while cutting a dead chicken to pieces. She even makes a little curtsy.

‘’Yes, my Lord. Midy my Lord.’’ You want to warn her but one glance from Aemond and you are silenced again. You know what is at stake. Her life. Perhaps even your own.

‘’You know this Lady?’’ He asks, gesturing vaguely at you. Midy nods, enthusiastically. Of course she knows you. You are the bastard of the Lord she served, and the only one of his daughters that had patience and kindness for servants.

Midy does not understand the danger she is in. She does not know that Aemond is not her friend. ‘’Lady Y/N my Lord of course I do! She is sweet and kind. She has been here since she was a baby.’’ She adds, with a smile, as if cherishing those good old days. ‘’It is high time someone would try to court her.’’ She really is too good for this world.

Courting. Not a conquering. A Courting. That would be fun. It would make Annalysa mad with rage and jealousy. This night would end with your stomach fluttering not filled with dread. Eryka would murder you. Karst would murder Aemond. It would be a fun and unrealistic scenario. Because why would Prince Aemond even entertain the thought of bothering with a marriage with you? He hates bastards. 

You glance at Aemond who has trouble hiding his smirk at her description. You pull your nails as a single tear falls from your eye. Aemond will not court you. He talked about conquering you, making you his ‘pet’. 

For a brief moment, you consider what would happen if you would tell Midy who Aemond really is, what he is really after and what he will really do. But one look at her kind brown loyal eyes and you know it won’t end well. She will perhaps attack Aemond in your defense, he will miraculously avoid, clearly favoured by the Seven damned gods themselves, and you will lose your friend for nothing. So, you remain silent. ‘’You know what my Lady likes?’’ He asks, as you silently cry.

The answer comes within mere moments as Midy thinks this an act of kindness. ‘’Strawberrycupcakes, lemoncakes, pastries and cakes, my lord. Although, she is not allowed much of the Lord of the house. His ladybitch took care of that.’’ Midy murmurs, acting too familiar with Aemond, who laughs, amused by this knowledge.

‘’Midy, be kind.’’ You warn her. ‘’She does her best.’’ Lady Fyona is not the kindest to you, but she is not as horrible as her two daughters. She at least tries to tolerate you.

‘’Arrange something delicious for her and me.’’ Prince Aemond interrupts you sharply. ‘’I wish to try your delicious cooking and to feed my pet.’’ Finally Midy understands.

The blood leaves her face likely and she looks at Aemond as if he is the Stranger himself, here to collect her. ‘’Y-You're not here to court-’’ She knows now.

Aemond grins and you know he must enjoy her fear.

‘’No. I'm here to conquer. Which I did, but now I'm hungry.’’ He gestures to the kitchen as if to send her away. She obeys and leaves him instantly.

The prince turns his head to you.

 ‘’I have no use for you if you were to faint. When was the last time you ate, if at all?’’ He asks, taking in your trembling hands and roaring stomach.

You had a bowl of soup yesterday. 

‘’Last night during supper.’’ You try to quiet your stomach. 

The prince looks out the window, to where his horse is peacefully eating outside. ‘’Supper? It's almost dark again.’’ You can tell.

You stumble, leaning for support on the table where your family used to dine at. ‘’Sit with me.’’ He orders you. ‘’Sit down, and get something inside that stomach.’’ You aren't sure how to. You aren't hungry ever since he killed all those people. All the heads he cut, the corpses he burned with his dragon. It is too much for you.

And you can't sit down. Not at that table. You aren't allowed to. You are a dirty bastard to sit at your family's table would be treason and your stepmother has hit you enough in the past for it. Aemond thinks however you are insulting him. ‘’What is it?’’ You have trouble explaining it. It is embarrassing.

Yet you know you must explain it.

‘’I'm a bastard. I'm supposed to eat away from the family table.’’ You tell him, your voice timid. 

He chuckles. A few men join in as you stare at your feet. ‘’Did your daddy not like it when you ate at his table, sweet pet?’’ You shake your head, your stomach roaring once more.

‘’No.’’ Your voice is a quiet soft muttering. You rub your arms.

‘’Were you spanked, if you tried?’’ Aemond wonders. You have never been spanked before and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks at his suggestive little smirk.

‘’No.’’ You mutter again. 

‘’You know what? Your daddy is my prisoner now, pet. I think you can sit your pretty bastard ass down.’’ You do as he wishes, picking the chair that normally belonged to Karst. He won’t ever sit that chair again. You won’t ever hear his voice again. Aemond made sure of that.

You feel a soft smack on your hand and flinch, shocked that the prince lightly smacked you.

‘’No, little pet. I want you to warm me..’’ He murmurs in your ear and your belly roars as you subtly try to free yourself, but it's no use as his grip only tightens.

He is thinking of his lap. You know it. But you must try to deflect his intentions. ‘’Shall I bring candles?’’ You mutter. ‘’Or perhaps a blanket?’’

He scoffs. He does not need a blanket. He is not truly cold. He is simply making use and a spectacle of you. To mock you. He sits back down in your father's chair.

You are grabbed and squeak afraid. ‘’You're a witty clever thing.’’ He speaks, before sitting you down firmly on his lap. ‘’No, you'll warm me. I told you you were to keep me warm during my conquest and you will.’’ You whimper.

He chuckles, kissing your hair. ‘’My pretty pet.’’ He murmurs. You don't feel pretty at all. You feel weak and small on his lap. You try to move, to find comfort but it is no use. You are frightened and terrified. 

Midy comes back from the kitchen with a tray of food. She does not help you fight Aemond. She does avert her eyes, ignoring you both. ‘’I will feed her anything first.’’ He barks at her suddenly, causing you to flinch. ‘’Just in case you thought to poison me.’’ He adds. Great. As if being his pet is not bad enough; you'll be forced to be a taster too.

Midy is not impressed by his behaviour. ‘’I figured. I made the muffin for her lady. All the food is poison free. But please, feed her first.’’ She places various pastries with fruit bases in front of the prince and you. You can't move.

Aemond picks up one of the plates with a strawberry muffin on it.

‘’What is going on here exactly? My pet has not been fed.’’ You avoid looking at Midy.  ‘’She told me she had food. Last night. What is the meaning of this?’’ 

You had time for breakfast this morning but someone ran off with a horse and got herself into trouble. ‘’I had to save Diandra first.’’ Your sister will always be a priority.

Aemond grabs your chin so firmly that you cry out. Midy sets a foot in your direction but understands her interfering will do more harm than good. ‘’You will do no foolish things anymore. You are mine now. And I want you well fed for what comes next.’’  He warns you with a soft slap on your knee.

You repeat his words in your head, becoming anxious. What can he possibly need you for?

‘’Leave us.’’ Midy waits for your command, ignoring the prince, her conqueror and the man that holds your lives in his hands. ‘’Wench! Leave us!’’ He yells. You nod quickly, granting her permission. And Midy leaves.

Aemond cuts off a piece of the muffin. ‘’Open wide.’’ He tells you. You quietly burst into soft sobs. He grabs your hair and pulls it, lifting your head in your neck so he may feed you easier. ‘’Wide.’’ He groans again.

This time you obey and the piece of juicy strawberry muffin is laid on your tongue. You chew and swallow like an obedient girl. Aemond brings his thumb to his mouth before making it wet, cleaning your lips of crumbs and juice. ‘’Tonight, I will ask the same of you. You best obey then.’’ You nod, absent at his words. You try to understand what he could possibly mean.

‘’You wish to kiss me? Is that it?’’ You are insecure.  You have never been kissed before.

He scoffs again. ‘’If you call that kissing, of course my sweet; let us call it kissing.’’ You try to reach for a fork but he grabs your hand slamming it on the table painfully before you can. You whimper once more, in pain as you put your hands on your lap. ‘’I don't trust you with silverware yet. You will be fed.’’ He tells you running a hand down your left knee.

You nod hesitantly. Aemond cuts the lemoncake in pieces for you and brings the pieces to your mouth, feeding you as if you can't eat yourself. 

It should not feel intimate. It should not feel as exciting and unknown to you as it does. But sitting on his warm warrior lap, having his unprovoked attention, and him, a prince feeding you, a bastard makes all sorts of confusing things happen. 

You don't pay attention, and some of the juice ends up on your chin. You try to wipe it away.

‘’Come here, clumsy thing…’’ Aemond whispers in your ear. Your face is turned to his and he brings his mouth to your chin, licking away the lemon juice as you gasp softly and stiffen. Aemond's hands hold you tightly so you may not escape. 

A soft delicate moan leaves his lips, coming straight from his gut, perhaps his manhood. ‘’Mhm…’’ You never heard such an intriguing yet terrifying sound.

Once you sit back comfortably against his front you can't help but notice a small irritation that is poking you from behind. ‘’Do you have a belt perhaps? Something is poking me. Irritating me.’’ You try not to sound too whiny. It is not as firm as a rock, but something is bothering you and poking your tailbone.

He smirks. ‘’My apologies.’’ That is all he says with a chuckle. 

You don't understand at first.

‘’Just take it off.’’ You tell him as another piece of cake  is shoved in your face. You obediently open your mouth, and Aemond feeds you another piece of delicious cake.

You chew and bite, savouring the good taste.

He whispers in your ear again.

‘’I can't do that, unfortunately. I'm very attached to that part.’’ You remember reading a romance book where the female lead was engaging in behaviour unsuited for her station, which brought her male lover so much joy that he felt...

One word crosses your mind. Erected. ‘’O,’’ You manage to squeak out. ‘’I-’’ You become at a loss for words and embarrassed, mortified and silent.

‘’Just enjoy your cake for now.’’ He softly touches your shoulders when feeding you another price. The cake is good. It might be the only good thing left in your life. Will this be a regular thing? How long until he trusts you with silver? How long until he bores of you and kills you? All sort of unpleasant thoughts you don’t want to think of. And yet you do.

Aemond leaves a soft kiss on your head. ‘’Good girl.’’ He coos in your ear, approvingly. You stiffen a bit more, blood rising to your cheeks. You never liked it when someone called you a 'good girl' and he is no exception. ‘’Interesting.’’ He comments a moment later after studying your reaction.

You hope he is pleased for now. ‘’What is?’’ You nearly shout, uncomfortable with his staring.

But to think he would make this easy would be a mistake.

‘’Nothing.’’ He shrugs a little too, grinning as you worry only grow and grow.

He decides to change the subject as well. ‘’I'm glad you decided to eat.’’ As if you had a choice. He would have shoved it down your throat, you are sure of it.

You sniffle, scoffing.

‘’Was it an option to refuse? What good am I without food? A human can't think without food.’’ You are thirsty too. You need to eat and to drink so you can work out a escape plan for you and your family.

Aemond sighs, before impatiently tapping with his feet against the ground. ‘’Damn servants. Someone get in here!’’He shouts loudly, and you flinch at his hard voice. A servant maid comes rushing in, someone else than Midy. You don’t know her name. She is fairly new. She makes a curtsy, her hands shaking. ‘’My prince?’’

‘’Get us wine.’’ He says, as if its that obvious. ‘’One of you wenches gave me food, without wine. I should have her flayed to say the least for that crime.’’ You stare at the cake, forcing your anger out by staring it down, because you can’t hit Aemond.

The girl gets to work, searching in cabinets and chests alike until she finds you two different cups and a bottle of very poorly aged wine. ‘’What a useless servant. I should have my dragon fest upon you. But Vhagar does not appreciate stupid wenches.’’ Aemond speaks to you after she is gone. 

You are handed a cup first, by him. You taste it first for the prince, aware this could kill you.

But you trust your servants. It is a good wine. Not old, not ancient, not anything Aemond would have been given. It is decent. But after the day you had, it is perfect. ‘’How does the wine taste?’’ Aemond asks after watching you drink as eager as a kitten by a mother cat.

You feel better, still terrified and worried, but you aren't hungry anymore. ‘’Quite good.’’ It is the truth. The sweet taste of the wine makes your head a little lighter and a little less troubled. You do remind yourself to watch out around Aemond with the alcohol. You don't know how this will end.

He sits a little straighter, moving you unintentionally over his lap, causing an unfamiliar sensation burning between your legs. ‘’I wish to taste your wine.’’ His voice is a few octaves deeper, his pupil is slightly widened.

You obediently hand him the other remaining cup. You have no desire to fight him or to get angry. It is just wine.  ‘’Yes, you shall.’’ 

But you are not prepared for what happens next. Instead of taking your cup, he throws it on the ground, spilling it and grabs you by the bodice of your dress, dragging you closer. His mouth opens and roughly pushes onto yours, as his strong arms restrain you until you stop fighting him. Once your guard is down, his left hand slips from your wrist that he pinned to your legs. Your lips open for a moment to breathe and he takes this moment. He kisses you and plunders you too.

His tongue licks out your mouth, tasting every drop you had as your lips press against one another. ‘’Quite good indeed.’’ He tells you when you are panting softly. ‘’I see you are a quick student.’’ He looks at your chest area where your nippels have hardened as two gemstones.

You curse yourself and quickly try to cover yourself after that kiss.

‘’I didn't mean to-’’  You have to defend yourself. You are not a harlot.

He chuckles slowly, almost disheartening and mockingly.

‘’Such a needy girl. Good thing I captured you, hm? Is your cunt wet as well?’’ He wonders out loud, and you are thankful your servants are all dismissed.

You remain defiant.

‘’I don't know what that is.’’ Yes you do, but you have no desire to play his games.

Aemond's good eye slightly twitches before it lowers suggestively to the space between your legs, that is still covered with the fabric of your dress. You know what he referred to. Yet you pretend you don't know.

He speaks, wettening his lips with the edge of his tongue. ‘’It's what a man fucks when his lover is on her knees. It's a little small gate to pure delight, one can enter and pleasure will build if you keep fucking it.’’ He describes it oddly. It sounds painful and shameful. ‘’It's fun for the woman too.’’ He adds once he sees your judgmental glare.

You never heard that before outside of your romance novels. Pleasure was never a reason for you to marry even as a bastard. ‘’Is it?’’ You ask, your voice is a little timid. You are curious. Of course you are. You pleasured yourself before but a man, an actual man of flesh and blood...

He nods, clearly enjoying how eager and patient you listen to him. ‘’Yes, pet. It can be very fun for the woman too, if she finds herself a skilled lover.’’ You wonder if he is such a skilled lover. 

But you wonder so quietly. He is not a lover material. He is the opposite of it. He killed dozens of innocent people and trapped your father and your sister. He killed your brother and made you carry his head around. 

You can not deny that he is handsome, as a conqueror that came straight from a historic book, but you can not deny that he is your enemy either. It is best to remain wary and to keep up your guard.

His hands rub your left knee softly patting you when his right hand caresses your face, feeling the warmth of your flesh. ‘’But, as we are just master and pet, well, I'm afraid your pleasures must be earned.’’ Earned. You don't like the sound of that. He chuckles and leans in a little closer.

And the words 'master' and 'pet' send shivers down your spine.

‘’What of your pleasures?’’ You wonder, putting your own needs aside. You need to know what will happen to you.

His response is short and brief.

‘’Isn't that obvious? You'll take care of that from now on. And don't you dare to....disobey or I will punish you too.’’ He grins and you can only imagine how horrible he will punish you. You don't think you saw what he is fully capable of yet. And yet what you already saw terrifies you. You don't want to meet this monster. You don't want to see the bloodshed.

And there is one final question to be asked. Until now, there have been unsubtle innuendos about his plans with you. Slapping your ass, calling you his and now the pleasure and the face licking. He plans on taking you as his conquest tonight, part of you understands it. And you are terrified. ‘’So you'll...You'll…’’

Aemond suddenly snaps his head at his two soldiers. ‘’You two. Go find another person to bother with your needless breathing. Me and the Lady wish to be alone.’’

They understand they can better leave than stay if they wish to remain alive. ‘’Enjoy, my Prince.’’ One of them says, referring to you as if you are just another fruity pastry. You glare at him, causing Aemond to chuckle. ‘’Show that little cunt what dragons do with sheep.’’ He adds when he sees your fiery glare. ‘’Should you bore of her; We always look for strong-willed whores.’’

And there is your fear. You fear Aemond will bore himself with you soon and pass you down. You expect Aemond to chuckle. But instead you feel him push you to stand up and hear him stand up and hear flesh connect with flesh and a sharp grunt. ‘’That's quite enough familiarity. I'm your prince, do not forget yourself.’’ The soldier has a handprint on his face and you understand that the prince must have disciplined him.

‘’I am sorry, I thought the girl was spoils.’’ You never suspected he would go as far as to hit one of his own men for you. Over an insult too.

You understand that Aemond did not do it for you. He did it for himself.  ‘’She is. But she is my spoils. I will claw out the eyes of every man that looks at her funny, and take the tongue of every soul who dares to insult her. Do you wish to be the first?’’ He asks.

You speak up. ‘’That won't be needed, my prince. I am not insulted-’’ you have to try to save the man's life. So what if he called you a whore? He does not need to die for his own foolishness, all men would die if that was the case.

Aemond does not need to move an inch in your direction or to raise his voice. All he needs to do is be and exist and look in your direction. ‘’You'll be quiet.’’ Is all the prince says.

You obey, silently wiping at your eyes with a soft nod. The prince smacks the man again, drawing blood. He seems to like that. ‘’Well? Will you be the first?’’ He asks the soldier.

The man shakes his head afraid.

‘’No, my prince.’’

Aemond grimaces a little disappointed. ‘’Good. Then let me fuck my sheep in peace.’’ You whimper wordlessly as the guard leaves. Sheeps are common export in your town, but you fear he is not talking about an actual sheep. He is talking about you. 

Aemond walks back to the table where you obediently sit, quiet and shaking like a leaf. He counts the silverware. You understand that you had an opportunity and did not take it. A fork or a knife would be great to defend yourself with. And what did you do? You watched your captor abuse another man.

The silence that follows is worse than any word he could have spoken. You watch as he cuts off a piece of the strawberry cake and takes a piece himself, his fingers red with the juice that looks like blood.  ‘’Little Lamb. I like that for you.’’ He speaks as he brings the strawberry cake to his lips. 

Your shaking becomes worse.

He scoffs. ‘’You know why it fits?’’ He asks as if you are a stupid little girl. You know why he likes the sheep for you. Because of your home town.

‘’We are known for our sheep.’' You mutter. You don't want to talk about it. You want to go to your bedroom and forget this even happened.

There is that scoffing little laugh again. ‘’It could have been as simple as that, but it's not. A sheep is a flock member. It does not understand or want things. It only does what its shepard wants.’’ That is not true. You know the sheep too well to understand that sheeps certainly have wills and minds of their own.

You imagine he has not seen a lot of sheep. ‘’Sheep are stubborn animals. They are often underestimated.’’

He scoffs, and you understand he must have taken your words as a warning or even a threat. You did not intend for it. ‘’I found out a long time ago I am not a patient man, little Lamb. If you rebel or disobey; you will regret it deeply.’’ He warns you his voice is cold.

You are quick to apologise and to appease him. ‘’It was not meant as a threat…’’ You hope he believes you.

Aemond ignores you, simply throwing a plate on the ground causing you to flinch. ‘’I think it was. I think you are ungrateful.’’ You are not. You know that. 

He sighs before approaching you, grabbing you by your neck. You are yanked in his direction with your face and you sniffle when he brushes your face, smearing tears everywhere. ‘’Perhaps, I need to be firm. You are mine now. You will likely disobey sooner or later and I must put you in your place whenever you do such a foolish thing.’’ You don't like the sound of that.

He continues to softly rub your lips with his fingers, his eye looking at you as if you are a delicious reward. ‘’Why would I wait for you to rebel or to disobey? If I punish you right now, you would not even think of it.’’

You weakly protest. You have to remain calm and obedient. You need to calm him down.  ‘’I don't want punishment.’’ It is a weak soft request, a beg for mercy and a coward's path. You should not let fear rule your life but this man terrifies you.

Aemond has finished his cake.

‘’No, I imagine you don't. It would not be effective if you did.’’ He grins. ‘’I shall clear the table. You can lay with your chest on the top, I shall remove your skirts and small clothes and-’’ your mind fills with terrible images. 

‘’No, gods…’’ You mutter unsure if anyone can hear you. You even eye the door to the entrance of your home, debating if you should run. Judging by his smirk and slightly narrowed eyes, he has seen that you want to flee and challenges you, no begs you to give it a try. So he may capture you, and punish you.

Aemond ignores your cries. ‘’And I will spank you. I won't fuck you yet. But you can rest assured you will be punished.’’ This is the second time he mentioned spanking and you wonder quietly if he is sane.

He pats the table, inviting you over when rubbing his hands, after he threw all the food the maids worked so hard on away or simply on the ground for the rats the find. ‘’Lay down, so we can begin. ‘’He speaks folding his hands on his back. ‘’I won't hesitate to collect you.’’ He adds when you don't move an inch.

You bend on the table, your face and chest on the cold marble. Aemond takes stand behind you, lifting the skirt of your dress, revealing your legs and your small clothes. He sinks his fingers inside of your small clothes, before pulling them down as you wordlessly gasp. You feel his hands cup and touch the cheeks of your butt.

You never had another's fingers so close to your entrance or so close to your skin. 

You hear him almost groan or moan again, before squeezing your cheeks.

‘’Mhm..’’

You try to bring your stiffened body to ease. You calm yourself down and tell yourself the prince will only spank you for now. He said so himself. 

Your breath becomes less chased and ragged and your nerves settle. Until you feel something soft poke the area between your cheeks, poking and mocking you. Your hips are grabbed and you are slightly tilted. He can see your lady parts Fully now.

You close your leg with a yelp.

‘’Spread them, I have not finished inspecting you.’’ He commands you with a firm slap on your front. You cry out and obey, spreading for the prince in a instant, in a impulse to avoid more pain.

‘’This wasn't part of the agreement. I would be spanked!’’ You yell in anger and frustration.

He only grins, but does discipline you for your outburst by hitting your wet folds two sharp times. You cry and moan at the same time, tears shining in your eyes.

‘’You'll get it in a moment, you can rest assured.’’ You would know better than to trust his word.

‘’A maiden's cunt.’’ He says after he takes in your wetness. His cold fingers press softly against your front before he slips a finger down between your folds, gently touching and rubbing your pearl as you are overwhelmed with too many emotions at once.

Grief. Denial. Anger. Humiliation. And finally...arousal and acceptance.

Aemond likes the soft gasps and moans that leave your throat as you are touched by him. You worry if anyone can see you this way  ‘’So nervous. No need pet. I am just looking at how well you respond to touch.’’ He says, as if this is a game. He rubs a few times over your pearl, your sexual needs rising. ‘’As I suspected. You respond very well. Good girl. Just enjoy yourself. Just get your cunny wet.’’ You don't want to. You want to stop your own desires.

He grins as you cry and fight your emotions. ‘’So wet. I wonder why. It can't be the thought of having the big bad prince spank you, that has you this way can it?’’ You will kill him.

‘’Please…’’ You beg, and a lonely tear escapes. Do you beg him to continue, to let you be, to stop, to kill you or to have mercy? You don’t know. You really don’t know. And you don’t want to know.

You are spread on your father's table with a man between your legs, rubbing your cunt. This is wrong. ‘’You are so innocent and sweet, my little lamb.’’ He coos in your ear. ‘’What is with the little tears hm?’’ He mocks you now too

‘’Are you worried about the pain of the act? Or are you worried I will kill you afterwards? What troubles you so?’’ You worry for both now too.

You confess your fear to him. It is best to be honest. You know he will do what he likes anyway. Your fears wont stop him. ‘’That you will bore yourself to death with me and pass me to your men. That I'll be defiled and shared.’’

A horrible image is again formed in your brain where Aemond watches as two of his guards....

You shiver and Aemond squeezes your folds, pinching the soft delicate and wet skin. ‘’As long as you can keep my interest, that won't be happening.’’ He says as if it is that simple.

And that is what you are worried about. You open your mouth but before you can speak his finger is inserted between your legs, entering your pure untouched body. You never met someone as daring and bold as him, fucking you on his mere fingers without even taking you out for dinner first.

You have instincts that become awakened. The urge to roll your hips to his fingers and the urge to hold his hands so you may fuck in peace. Yet you force yourself to remain silent and still. You will not make this easy.

Eventually the fucking stops, leaving you high and needy. The finger is drenched in white transparent substance almost like sweat or perhaps something that looks like poorly made whipped cream. 

Aemond forces his dirty finger against your lips. You do not open or respond. ‘’Taste it. Suck my finger off.’’ He commands you, in his rough aroused voice.  ‘’Taste your own wetness.’’ He adds, shoving the fingers against your lips and letting your lips taste your own juices.

You push his hands away in a hurtful and confused moment. You feel like he asked too much of you.  ‘’No. That is gross. I've entertained you enough.’’ You declare.

Sometimes in history books, maesters write when heroes knew they had dug their own graves. This was your moment. You knew it.

Aemond drops the finger, insulted and slightly tilts his head, studying for a cold good minute before speaking. ‘’No? You have not? Have you forgotten who of us rules this town? It's not you, which is why your cunt is within my grasp.’’ He tries to touch your cunt, but you have had enough of him. You act on anger and rage.

You strike the prince across his face. It is not very impressive or a strong smack but Aemond might understand his attention is not wanted. 

But one look at the prince and you know that you have only made things worse. Much worse.

He undoes his leather belt, rolling it up casually when you gulp. You watch as he approaches you, belt in hand and ready to use it. You have heard stories. Never read them, as pain terrifies you. 

Aemond chuckles. ‘’O, you will regret that dearly, little pet.’’ He smacks your face down on the table, causing you to cry out. You crawl away over the table, your dress causing trouble, but don't get very far.

He drags you back by your ankle, your legs and finally your hips and forces your dress further off your body, properly stripping you of whatever dignity you had left. You hear him chuckle and that's when you feel immense pain on your lower back, your ass, and upper back respectively. You wail and whine and complain and cry but none of it matters.

The prince uses you as his whipping toy until there is blood on his belt and he is panting.

He rolls you on your back, and spreads your legs. ‘’Watch. Follow the belt.’’ He tells you, his voice a little hoarse. You nod obediently and nearly cry when the belt is placed on your wet sensitive maiden cunt. 

‘’My prince, please no-’’

It is too late when you see his grin grow twice the size and the belt cracks down on your skin, causing pleasure and pain to mix inside of you as you roll your head in your neck and just scream for the gods to hear. 

Aemond hisses slowly before he briefly turns his back to you. You catch your breath before the finger is pushed in your face again.  ‘’Suck, now.’’ He tells you.

This time you open your mouth and take his finger in your own hands, guiding it inside your mouth. Your lips smack when the finger enters and you obediently suck his nails clean for him, removing your own juice and taste of his soft and yet dangerous fingers. 

You have never done anything like this before. But you come to the conclusion you quite like it. It is relaxing. You have a task, a clear task and are kept busy too. You like it because for a moment you forget your troubles and misery.

‘’Such a shame I needed to make you bleed to get you to listen to me. I don't like seeing my pet bleed.....’’ You don't know if that's true. You don't want to know.

You suck a little harder, as he exhales deeply. ‘’You have good soft lips, little Lamb. Your muscles need training, but I see potential. I would not have taken you as my pet if I did not see what a beautiful obedient little pet you can become for me.’’ You feel shivers run down your spine yet ignore it.

‘’Take the finger out if you wish to speak.’’ He challenges you with a grin. You rather not. You have spoken and he punished you. ‘’No? You're such a little craven. You rather suck my finger and remain quiet hm? It's safer for you that way.’’ He grins, moving his finger up and down in your mouth. Your lips suck and smack at his commands and his movements, your eyes never leaving his own.

‘’My dragon, Vhagar, loves maidens.’’ Aemond grins leaning in to sniffle your neck and to smell your fear. That is when you speak up to beg for your life.

‘’Please my prince…’’ Your voice shakes the moment you speak becoming a soft emotional squeak. 

‘’Do you apologise, little lamb?’’ Aemond asks, ignoring your cries and your heartbroken voice.

You nod. ‘’Yes, I am sorry.’’ It takes great effort to lie to him. You are a woman of the truth. You would never lie if it wasn't needed.

He nods approvingly but there is a warning glare in his good eye.

‘’The next time you raise a hand to me, you will lose your hand. Is that understood?’’ You nod again, terrified.

‘’Yes.’’ You know he prefers verbal answers. 

He clicks his tongue. ‘’Your wetness is all over the table, naughty thing. I think you'll actually enjoy me fucking you tonight. You sure seem ready for a good, through, and proper fucking.’’ You are not ready. Not at all. So why does this idea excites you? Perhaps you are just in need for company, more than you thought you were.

And he knows this. Of course he does. ‘’Though, You are of age, unmarried and alone. So that does makes sense, to long a husband, to long feeling bred.'' You have trouble picturing it. You remain silent instead of making a witty reply. To that he laughs. ‘’Yes, I bet my little lamb will scream all sorts of delicious little cries when I make her come all over my cock. You seem like the type that enjoys it rough.’’ You have been with no lover. You know better than he what you like, however. 

There are moments when you are reading and are overcome with desires and needs. You touch yourself to get rid of the feelings. So you know how your own desires work. You know so perfectly. ‘’I-i prefer it gently.’’ You admit, softly.

The prince does not like that answer. ‘’You're a maiden. You don't know what you prefer.’’ He speaks as if you are foolish and chuckles in a condescending manner. You have trouble keeping your face neutral so he won't smack you again.

It leaves your mouth before you can stop the words. ‘’Yes I do. I touch…’’ You stop yourself, as blood raises to your cheeks and you become quiet. 

Aemond grins in approval, liking where this conversation is heading. ‘’Go on. It's rude to not finish your sentence.’’ He says. You would rather be rude than be thought of as an easy harlot.

You refuse to let him have power over you. ‘’I touch myself.’’ You obediently say. Aemond's last remaining eye takes in your naked body, as if picturing where your hands would be when you are doing this to yourself. 

‘’Show me. Show me how you do that.’’ He says, commanding you. as if you are his dog. You obey and look around briefly for spectators or witnesses. Aemond sits down in the chair and plants you on the table, so he can see you properly. 

You sit down and start touching and rubbing your breasts. ‘’You are a slow one, hm?’’ Aemond comments after he has watched you for 2 minutes. It is difficult to raise arousal when he is watching. You are worried you will ruin it.

‘’Your breasts have had enough. I think another part of your body wants pleasure.’’ He means your cunt. You hesitate. ‘’Are you perhaps scared?’’ He grins scoffing and leaves a kiss on your hair. 

‘’No need for that. I'll see it tonight anyway. I already took a peek. You have nothing to be ashamed of.’’ He says. You bring your fingers to your entrance and start touching yourself when the prince watches you. 

‘’Such an eager little thing.’’ Aemond comments as your fingers go a little faster and harder, as you become aroused. He watches with his brow raised. You never were this wet so quickly. ‘’Are you this way for every man that cages you and your family and kills half your town or am I the only one?’’ He wonders, ruining your pleasure with the hard difficult truth.

You try to restart but it is difficult with the thought of your brother now haunting you. His head is literally on the floor behind the table where you are sitting.

‘’So amateurish. Poor girl. I will have you praying for the gods when I fuck you.’’ You know you do it wrong but you don't care. You do it as you like it. 

And finally you give up.

A smack shows what the prince thinks of that. ‘’I didn't tell you to stop, did I?’’ He asks his gaze aimed at the triangle between your legs.

‘’No my prince.’’ You mutter, rubbing the spot on your thigh where he hit you. He grins.

‘’Continue.’’ 

You pick up where you left off and touch yourself again in front of him. ‘’I rather just avoid my officers and officials, drag you off by your hair and tie you to the bed until your belly is swollen with my seed and all you taste is my cum. I want your nails to drag over my back and I want your voice to be hoarse from all the screaming you did.’’ Your fingers go smoother and quicker. ‘’Perhaps I'll buy you a whore. Perhaps I'll make you fuck her when I watch. Or, make her fuck you, that's seems to be the likely scenario.’’ You picture yourself with a beautiful woman laying under her as she takes you roughly with Aemond watching. 

You cry a little louder, your pleasure building rapidly as you fuck your own fingers.

He sees your changing body and knows. ‘’You can stop.’’ He cheerfully says. You are confused and glare, rubbing one final time.

‘’I said: 'stop'.’’ He groans, hitting you as a warning. You whimper, still aroused. ‘’You fucking whore.’’ He adds, grinning wildly. ‘’You disgusting little whore. You have no loyalty at all, hm?’’

You break into tears at his cruel words. You sob helplessly. ‘’I did what you wanted from me.’’

‘’What I want from you is more than your little fingers gently rubbing your cunt. I want to fuck you bloody.’’ He declares, his voice  raspy. ‘’You know what soon will be in your body?’’ You shake your head afraid.

Aemond grabs you from the table, forces you to stand and to meet his front with your behind. You feel it poke you so clearly now. His erected cock, through his pants.  ‘’My cock, as I fucking impale you on it and fuck you senseless.’’ He smacks your ass.

‘’You are too gentle when you touch yourself. You need it firm and clear or your bastard peasant mind will wander off.’’ You understand he must really hate you. And the fact that he wants you? He hates that even more.

a/n thank you for reading!

I shall be back when ...the stars allow it.

And my inspiration.

[traffic-light-eyes]

Supernatural au ninja! A quick sketch of heights and all that!

Au tidbits and character reasoning under the cut

Lloyd is self-explanatory. His heritage is already Oni, so I just made him more oni-presenting. I imagine that his dad, Garmadon, is completely oni presenting - like the series. This would mean the whole four armed shebang and all that. I want to play into the whole shape-shifting part of being an oni as well. Perhaps he often hides his oni parts because he is reminded of his father, whom I believe left him alone with Misako, alone (who is human, who doesnt know how to raise an oni, who cant protect him, cant teach him, cantcantcant). After a long while living with Misako, who had grown bitter raising such an "evil" child, he ran away. Maybe at around the same age as he was in s1. The ninja found him and raised him - not as a human but as a supernatural, an oni. I think in this au, the ninjas are hiding out someplace. Because of Lloyd's shape-shifting ability, he would often be the one to go on supply runs for food, clothing, etc. The others are terrified of letting their little brother out into the wild by himself, but they don't really have a choice. He often takes form as a pre-teen/teen so people dome question him when he goes into stores by himself. Perhaps he started feeling like he was more useful older, so he stayed that form. The others resent that but can't convince him otherwise. (He doesn't want them to leave him. He's useful so useful he can help, please)

Nya is the second youngest and is, well, water. I think the s14 was a really good supernatural base for her. She's fluid water like the series, but she certainly has a better grasp on her body, seeing as she lived like that since birth. When she gets surprised or shocked, she might make a splash or melt her form unconsciously, though. She's very touch starved. I think her and Kai's parents were hunted or something of the likes, and she never saw them again. She lived her entire life with her brother, who is her complete elemental opposite. When she was younger and woke from nightmares terrified, she sought out her brother. She wanted so badly the comfort and warm embrace of her family, but she couldn't touch him without hurting him. The first time she accidently brushed against him was when her parents were still around- she reached out towards him as a baby and her body splashed happily towards him. She still remembers his scream and the days following it when he couldn't use his left hand. She works hard on her mechs and other devices so someday she'll find a way to protect him from water. Somehow, she'll find it. That day will be the happiest day of her life, when she can give her lovely older brother a nice, tearful hug.

Jay is a satyr. I don't know why. He gives the crafty, bubbly personality that I imagine a satyr would have. Unlike most of his friends, he had been raised by completely human parents. One day, Ed and Edna found a small boy bundled in worn cloth crying in the forest next to their scrap yard. They couldn't help but take him in and give him love, no matter how furry his legs. Of course, they didn't exactly know how to care for him, so they made due with reading all about goats and myths and horse-hoof care in their local library and then some. The librarian had learnt to set aside those types of books when someone donated some so she could give them to the nice elderly couple who so eagerly love mythology. Jay grew up and prospered around the many, many scraps so he can be his creative self. His scrapyard was his forest, the machines he made were his nymphs and furry friends. The Walkers let him use whatever he wanted for his endeavors, but they did get quite worried when they saw a bite mark in a piece of metal. When he met Cole, who adores music, he immediately made himself instruments and they both made a quaint little "band." They play a strange combination of folk, rock, and classical. They don't know how it works but it does. He gets emotional often and the ninja cheer him up by either letting him play music, rant about starfarer, or get him a "forbidden" snack. Do not let him near the wooden pencils oh my gosh he eats them so quickly no one knows how he does it but you look away for one second and he's halfway through the pencil and it's wood and- JAY DONT EAT THE TABLE WE EAT ON THAT

Kai, the fire boy, the perpetual older brother. He grew up too fast, taking care of Nya and working hard to put food on the table. He learned that the world is unkind far too quickly. He did small jobs for everyone to get money and tried to improve his smithing skills. When he realized their parents' emergency money stash started to deplete and his unsteady income wasn't funding much more than the occasional oatmeal, he started looking into underground or supernatural fighting. He, at the ripe age of 14, had become one of the most feared supernatural fighters in the ring. He came home battered and bruised to his little sister - stop worrying so much, lil' sis! I'm fine! You know how clumsy I am with the hammer haha - and cooked food and helped her study - yes it is very important to study! You don't want to end up like me, do you? You need a degree. When he got older and saw a little oni kid running away from some digustingrevoltinghowdareyouhurthimimgoingtokillyou people, his big brother instincts told him to help. So, he did. He brought him back home to his little sister and their little family got bigger. Next came Cole, then Jay and Zane. His family got bigger and bigger and the responsibilities heavier and heavier. He had to protect them, it was his job, he cannot let anything hurt them, it was his job, he does the dirty work for them, it was his job. When Cole found out about his tendencies to put everyone else above himself when they were running away from hunters and Kai tried to sacrifice himself, he was not happy. They had a nice, long chat that ended in Kai promising to delegate his responsibilities and relaxing a bit. He's reminded that he isn't the only older brother anymore. His family can take care of themselves, yes. He's still needed, loved, important, but they are responsible. They can protect themselves. He can finally, finally lower his hands and release his fighting stance. He can sink into the relaxing domestic lifestyle that they were able to live in.

Cole is a werewolf- big, beefy, and protective. He didn't have the big brother instincts like Kai, no, but he certainly had the burning need to take care of his family. If Zane was the mom friend, Cole was the dad. He thinks it has something to do with his horrible relationship with his dad, so he wants to be better. His dad abandoned him when Cole started presenting more were-like. Lou could excuse the strange sharper teeth, the large pointy ears, and the love of the moon. But when he came home one day to a half-teen boy, half-wolf with the snout to complete it, he exiled Cole. He knew his dear Lily wasn't human, he knew. Well, he knew in theory. She had told him, but she was aware of the stipulations around it. So, she made sure he was never home when the reality reared its ugly head. She died before she could show him the real her. Lou thought something was so horribly wrong with his son. He was a monster, a freak- Lily was never like this, never destructive, always so sweet, kind, perfect. This wasn't his son. So, he kicked Cole out with the clothes on his back. Of course, Cole couldn't take any of the belongings in his room- Lou would wait until the real Cole came home. This boy was an imposter. He couldn't be his son. Cole left and had to scrounge around for food, dumpster to dumpster, person to person, begging pleading for scraps. Kai was on a walk with Lloyd, taking him to go get the newest issue of Starfarer, hood over his blazing hair and amber eyes when he caught sight of a beast in an alley. He paused. He hid Lloyd behind him as he walked closer to the animal. Kai was surprised to find out that it wasn't an animal, but a malnourished, frightened werewolf clinging tightly to a half-empty days old McDonald's bag are those bugs crawling over that burger or is he crazy. Cole was brought back to the little family and he became more of himself. Stronger, faster, filled with unbridled rage and unwilting kindness. Where Kai might directly bring his family somewhere they enjoyed or bought them their favorite treat, or where Zane might keep their teacup full or bake them a cake for a small accomplishment, Cole would be a steady rock of support for his family. If anyone needed a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, or an ear to listen, he was always the one they would go to. He could be drawing or reading and his ear might twitch and seconds later he would walk and find the sad soul that he could just feel needed him. They don't know if that's a werewolf thing or a Cole thing.

Zane is still a robot, just less human looking. His face is full of pixels and moves just like those cool mask thingies. His creator, his father, had sort of a Frankestein "I can do it so I'll do it moment," even if it wasn't exactly right. He stole parts and scraps around the world and had thought that he had created a working artificial human, but Zane didn't start up. He found that he could not start without a proper heart - a human heart. So - in the name of science - he dug his first grave. It was of a young teen named Zane, who died just a few weeks prior. He stole the heart and placed it into his machine, hoping for his new creation to work perfectly as his assistant. Zane worked. He woke up, confused, scared, whereamiwhoamiwhatamipleasehelpwhatsgoingonmomdadwhereareyou and was promptly shut down again due to his emotional tendencies. To stop this malfunction, Dr. Julien wired Zane's heart to power his body, not his mind. Which... worked? He was a living doll- he listened obediently to his maker. Dr. Julien's fatal mistake was trying to make another. He was caught trying to dig into another grave and taken away by authorities. Without Dr. Julien, Zane was stuck in the lab by himself for years before someone found him. This someone was a curious and lost Jay. He had left Ed and Edna because hunters came knocking on their door. He was told to run. He did. He found this cute little house in the middle of the woods and knocked on it. When no one answered, he tried the door and it opened. He looked around and found a hidden basement, of which the young satyr curiously explored. He found a basically falling apart Zane sitting in the corner, unresponsive. He noticed how much pain he was in and decided to do something about it. He fixed the wiring to Zane's heart and they had a nice conversation, mostly comforting Zane and informing him of his humanity and how yes be deserves to live no he is not an abomination stop Zane please stop messing with your heart latch don't do that pleasepleaseplease. A while later, they decided to leave the house together. They wanted to find others like them and they were able to do that when they saw a watery girl inside the ocean throwing a frisbee, a young horned boy making a sand castle, a man made of fire fanning himself, and a hairy man runningrunningrunning for the frisbee very happily. The fire one spotted them and noticed their unnaturalness and called them over, not before alerting his family to stay back and looking over to Cole to take Lloyd someplace farther back. Jay and Zane explained their situation and Kai happily let them stay with them, though he did watch Jay when he made those googly eyes -they're not googly eyes! Yes, I believe they are, Jay. My database says that when-- SHUDDUP!!!- at his sister.

And so, the family became, well, a family. All six of the unlikely nonhumans friends, together. Fighting, protecting and loving through the harsh (untrue) words and comfortable moments that any family goes through.

Thank you for reading this <3 I have a bit of ninja brainrot right now and I finished making this post/art in like 2 hours

[i-cant-sing]

I would like to formally submit a request for platonic yandad Hercules. I just want fluff vibes rn

Platonic yandad Hercules? You got it babe.

You could be just a normal person walking along, minding your own business when you suddenly run into trouble and a group of men try to assault you. Our hero Hercules comes smashing through and kicks everyone's asses and then asks if you're alright. You nod and thank him before going on your merry way, only for you to almost get trampled by a chariot the next day. And you would've been mashed to the ground, had it not been for Hercules to be passing by. And when a week later, some guy tries to force you to marry him, Hercules KO's the jerk and decides that you have been sent by the gods for him to take care of, after he had killed his wife and his kids.

Of course, you don't understand why this giant of a man is pulling you along to his house, saying that he'll take care of you from now on. Hercules assumes that you're just an orphan and even though you tell him many times that your family is waiting for you back home, he doesn't believe it, simply shushing you and telling you that "papa is here, now. No need to put up a brave front for me. Now you sit here and tell me about your day while I go make you dinner🥰"

OR

You're actually Hercules's child and you came from visiting your grandparents, only to walk in on your father strangling your mother, the bodies of your siblings lying around. As soon as your mother dies, that's when Hercule's curse is lifted and he finally sees what he's done and then sees you at the door, looking absolutely horrified.

When you see your father smile (because he's glad at least you're okay), you call him a monster and try to run away, only for Hercules to catch your wrist and yank to his chest, trying to explain that this is not his fault, that Hera did this. You don't believe him, thrashing around in his hands that were still covered in blood, so he knocks you out, thinking that you're freaking out because of the dead bodies, so tucks you under the covers while he buries your family.

You're permanently traumatised and Hercules doesn't understand that. If anything, he's only turned to become more protective of you, cutting you off completely from the world and keeping you at home because he can't risk you getting hurt. He treats even the smallest scratch you get as a fatal stab wound, even getting angry at you and scolds you for being so careless, all while he's bandaging you and making you herbal tea.

Even when Hercules gets Zeus and Hera to explain that your father was not at fault, you just cant seem to not be afraid of him. When you wake up from a nightmare where you saw the repeat of that night, only screaming louder when Hercules hugs you to comfort you, him not seeing that its actually he who you're afraid of.

He turns so paranoid, often waking up in the middle of the night to check if you're still breathing, patting your head and staring at you for hours before the sun rises and he goes out to hunt. If his paranoia is on lower levels, he might let you accompany him on the hunt, but you are to stay either on the horse or right by his side-AND NO EATING ANY BERRIES WITHOUT HIM CHECKING THEM FIRST.

Hercules heart's breaks everytime you hurl insults at him, call him a monster, but he knows he deserves it, his heart is already heavy with guilt. He even cries because you're all he has left in the world and you hate him. But then he comforts himself in the fact that at least you'll be safe with him, even if you hate him- you'll be safe. And he made Zeus and Hera promise him that if he ever has a manic episode again, they'll protect you, even if they have to kill him.

They are your grandparents, after all.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Cupid

Note: This is for @afriendlyblackhottie​​ Brat and Birthday challenge. Happy Bday Month 🎉🎈🎊🎂🍰! I chose Cupid by 112. Chris art work by @nix-akimbo​ she is amazing here is the original.

Summery: Ransom likes a bridesmaid.

Warning: Daddy Kink, gag, oral (reader receives), sex

Groomsman Band member Ransom x Black Reader, Knives out Alternative Universe

Leaning in the archway of the reception hall you sighed watching the newlyweds dance their first dance. You didn't want to be here. Not after all the shit he put Courtney, the bride, through.

But your bestie was the kind of girl that could not function without a man in her life. He had cheated on her five times, that you knew of. You were sure there was more, but she as well as you were tired of the berating.

It was always the same. He cheated, she cried, you picked up the pieces and then when he was ready she would go back. Pathetic.

"Aw don't pout princess your day will come" your eyes rolled at the sound of his voice. You had the misfortune to be linked with Ransom, the cousin of the groom. All the other bridesmaids drooled over him, but you weren't impressed. This rich boy was looking to add to his body count so you only interacted with him only when you needed to.

Their family had paid for this whole affair. You nearly punched one of the grooms relatives when she made a remark on Courtney's color choices. They were all on your shit list.

Just ignore him. Its almost over and you will never have to see him again.

As the song ended everyone applauded while you made your way over to the open bar. Your wrist was snagged as you crossed his path. Snatching it back you looked at him as if he grew another head.

"Look you don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Let's be miserable together." He held up his hands in surrender. You were stuck on this island and you were smart enough not to fall for dumb shit so you gave yourself permission to relax.

You both took over an empty table in the back of the massive hall. Ransom disappeared for a bit, then returned with two bottles of champagne and two glasses. The bar was an open bar, but you were sure they weren't handing out bottles left and right.

"OK let's play a game to pass the time." Ransom proposed as he approached.

"Game? What kind of game?" You waited curiously. Sitting the glasses and bottles down Ransom proceeded to pop the cork on one of the bottles of Champaign.

"We both take turns pointing out people we think the other would fuck."your mouth fell open with his boldness as he spoke. "If you guess wrong you have to take a sip. Yatta yatta you get it."

"Are you just trying to get me drunk?" You squint at him playfully suspicious.

"Nah, just bored. So come on let's play."

You watched as he poured the glasses to the brim, when he handed you the bubbling glass you thanked him. Ransom moved his chair next to you, sitting shoulder to shoulder so you both were sure to have the same view of the people on the floor.

"Ladies first" he held his glass high. You clinked your glass with his signaling ‘good game’.

"What about her?" You pointed to Courtney's great aunt. The lovely woman was at least eighty-seven, you knew this would be a 'no', but why not start off with a softball.

He gave you a look that made you snort.

"Wow was that a laugh? I seriously didn't think the ice queen was capable. You didn't even smile for the wedding photos. Achievement unlocked." Ransom was full of himself.

"No one is gonna believe I got the frost queen to crack a smile." Ransom boasted.

You took a sip from your glass so you didn't have to reply. There was nothing to smile about. You didn't approve of this wedding so you weren't going to act like you were. Courtney was lucky you even agreed to be a bridesmaid.

"OK my turn." He observed the crowded floor, before finding his mark. "Glasses two o'clock."

You searched out 'Glasses' and scoped him out. Tall, put together nicely. "Yep."

"Really?" He gave you a look, that made it hard to fight back the curl of your lip.

"Yep..I have particular taste." You say casually with a shrug.

"Well all right to each his own I guess."

"My turn" you stopped for a beat then found her. " Oh what about her?" you pointed to a tall slender blonde.

"Ugh no...That's my aunt."

"Oooops....My bad... let me see who else, umm" you looked around the room, but he only looked at you.

"Oh! Oh! Her" you pointed to Stephani, a younger cousin of Courtney's. Thick thighed, uber fit college student.

"You can't go twice. Take your sip."

"What that was your aunt that cant count" you argued back.

"A no is a no" he tutted.

"Fine" you gulped from your glass and waited your turn.

"OK my turn. Hmm...What about him" he pointed to an older man that was chatting up a bridesmaid that was way to young for him.

"Eww nah not my type, but he might have gotten a yes back in the day." You tilted your head with a smirk.

"Oh thank gawd. That's my dad."

"What the fuck? Dude gross" you slapped at his shoulder and laughed. Ransom rubbed it fanning pain.

"Hey you picked my aunt" he chuckled with you.

"Yeah but I didn't know she was your aunt!"

After finishing the first bottle you started to feel loose. Ransom's arm stretched out along the back of your chair, slyly rubbing circles on your bare arm, while you leaned snuggled into his side as you both continue to people watch.

"So what do you do?" You asked him.

Ransom was silent for a moment. Taking a long swig from the glass before looking over at you and sighing.

"I'm in a band."

"Oh really, is that your little hobby you do before you take over the board seat at your grand-papa's company?" you bit back a laugh. Ransom frowned at you, but you didn't care.

You knew of the older Thrombey, the famous author and owner of a publishing house. Through rehearsal you watched the interactions between the two and you knew that Ransom was the favorite of the acclaimed writer's brood.

"I don't want anything to do with that company believe it or not. I love music always have."

"Must be nice to play in a band bankrolled by a publishing house. What are y'all called 'Blood and Rock'" you laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

"Ha wrong again. We're called 'Coffee and Roses'. And I've been cut of financially ever since I got these bad boys" Ransom shimmed out of his blazer and rolled up his sleeves. His well toned arms were completely covered in ink. When he pulled down his collar you were able to see the massive art work that encompassed his neck, you bit into your bottom lip as he allowed you to ogle him. "This art work was not board approved " he joked. The booze mixed with Ransom's rocker bod was starting to lower your inhibitions and you needed to put a stop to it.

"Your cousin is a piece of shit." You changed the subject before taking a pull from your glass.

"Yeah well he gets that from his dad, he's always been an asshole."

"Apples don't fall far do they?" You snipped. When Ransom didn't respond you looked over, he was looking at his father who had now moved on to another pretty young thing.

"He made a mistake and he is fixing it." Ransom replied, suddenly in defense of his cousin.

The mistake in question was a child, by another woman. That baby you thought would be the final straw to break the camels back.

"Diamonds don't fix problems." You didn't come from money, but you knew that this wedding was a band-aid. And once it got wet you wondered what would be the gift for the next 'mistake'.

The groom had always bought his way out of his binds. The more he fucked up the more money he poured on it. This wedding you couldn't even fathom the cost. The wedding ring alone looked like it could choke a horse. And this destination wedding on his dime made you think on what happened in the interim leading up to this event.

"You're a really good friend. She's lucky that she has someone that cares so much." You both stared into the distance at the couple. They danced and smiled at each other so happy, but you felt sick. Ransom's sweet words made you immediately suspicious of his intent, his cousin had a habit of talking sweet, but he was a fucking snake. You weren't going to end up like Courtney.

"Look don't think that just because we got all chummy that all of a sudden I am gonna want to bang one out." You hit your glass on the table harder than you meant to, it tipped over and spilled out the rest of your drink.

When a little bit of the liquid trickled off the table and hit your dress you pushed away from the table. Just a tiny bit, nothing major to fuss about, but you had hit your limit. You'd done the wedding, you took the pictures and you stuck around for the reception. It was time to go.

You weren't about to be some random rich kids one night stand. So you stormed off. Thankfully the ball room was not far from the adjoining hotel. Marching you fumed and you cursed your friend for being this dumb, yourself for not doing more to stop this and almost falling for Ransom's charm. Mashing the buttons you thought of changing your number, wiping your hands from this friendship and looking into an overnight flight back home.

How much worse would it be now that she was legally married to that douche bag. The thought of them having kids only served to further irked you.

Before the elevator door could close a hand sliced down the middle, halting the closure.

You stood stunned as Ransom appeared out of breath and in-between the open doors.

**"Baby, I'm so tired of the way you turn my words into deception and lies"**

Ransom consumed the space between you two. Your ass hit the hand rail as the doors closed.

"I am not my father, I am not my cousin. I liked you." His confession made your heart flutter.

Don't be stupid. He is the same as the rest of his family. Don't fall for his game.

His hands rested on the bar on either side of your hips as he stood toe to toe with you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed turning away from him, unable to keep staring into those eyes.

**Don't misunderstand me when I try to speak my mind I'm only saying what's in my heart**

With one finger he brought your focus back to him. You frowned at him, you weren't weak. You weren't falling for him no matter how much your body wanted to throw in the towel.

**Cupid doesn't lie** He leaned in close and you held your breath as your heart raced.

**But you won't know unless you give it a try** Ransom whispered over your lips before kissing you gently. You broke down allowing him to invade your mouth. His lips felt soft and his firm arms a welcome feeling as they wrapped around you.

The elevator dinged loudly and you pulled back. Your lipstick smeared on his mouth made for a funny sight. Looking at the number it was your floor then back at him.

**Give it a try** Ransom pleaded.

A switch flipped inside you. Angry at yourself you pushed past him and marched to your hotel room.

He is just a spoiled rich kid trying to have fun. Don't fall for it. You try and convince yourself.

He shouted as the doors closed and you tried to ignore him.

**Cupid doesn't lie**

He shouted again. You halted, but refused to look.

"All men lie" You stopped as you replied back at him. There wasn't a woman in your life that wasn't hurt and you didn't want to join that club. You wanted to protect yourself at all cost. You heard the elevator doors close so you let out a sigh of relief.

What if you were wrong. What if he was right? A nagging thought bubbled in your mind. He was fun, you felt at easy around him. Some part of you yearned for him to come back.

You were so lost in your own head that you hadn't heard him rush up behind you. Ransom quickly spun you around, his eyes boring into your soul. The sight of which made it hard to stay angry.

**"Oh baby, true love won't lie...But we won't know unless we give it a try"**

He kissed you again. This time more hungry than before, so much so it took your breath away as he pulled back.

**"Give it a try"** he pleaded yet again.

It was hard to get the door open with Ransom latched onto your face. Fumbling with the key you tried blindly several times to get the card in the slot with your back pressed hard against the door.

Frustrated Ransom snatched the card and opened the door for you.

"Thanks Daddy" you teased, looking up through your lashes at him.

"Daddy huh?" The grin that grew on his face was devilish indeed. "So that's it...You act all bratty to get Daddy to react. Huh?"

Scooping you off your feet he carried you across the threshold. You were so surprised that he was able to handle your weight with ease, as he walked you over to the bed, before tossing you.

"Keep the dress on and pull your tits out" he command as he furiously unbuttoned his shirt.

You marveled at the fit rocker. He revealed more tats as he opened his shirt. Pushing down your off the shoulder strap you yanked your top down. Your half bra going down with it, allowing your breast to bounce free.

"Stand up."

Without a word you rose to your feet.

"Turn around."

Again you followed his orders. The way he commanded you made your need soak through your panties.

"Gonna come deep in that pretty pussy, show you who you belong to" Ransom taunted into the shell of your ear. "Say ahh."

The neck tie that had long since come undone was now being wrapped around your open mouth, wrapping it  quickly then knotting the fabric.  

Once secure Ransom proceeded to massage your breast from behind. As he tweaked your nipples you felt his cock, hard and stiff pressed into your ass.

You pushed and rubbed against it toying with him, the hum that buzzed from his lips almost sounded primal. "Nothing but a big tease huh? Daddy's going to show you what he thinks about teases."

Pushing you over on the bed you yelped through your gag. Looking over your shoulder you watched as Ransom bunched up the fabric of your dress, tossing it over your hips to expose your ass.

Feeling cocky you twerked your ass before him, the look in his eye showed that he approved of the sight. Ransom palmed your cheeks with both his hands, kneading the soft tissue as he rubbed his erection on you.

One hand moved around your hips and on the outer-lining of your panties.

"Fuck baby girl is that all for me?" Ransom's finger pulled at the elastic that touched your bud. He felt the drenched panties and pulled them back until they snapped back in place.

"Fuck baby girl" he purred.

Ransom lowered himself onto his hunches, pulling your panties down with them. You felt his tongue lapping gently at your folds. The sensation sending shivers throughout your body.

His tongue separated your lips, you knees wanted to cave at the tantalizing feel of him. Through your gag you moaned, the slow torture of his feasting was bringing you close to the finish line.

Ransom sucked hard on your bare mound adding a finger as he rose to his feet. "You taste so sweet baby." He praised as he curled his fingers inside of you.

"Do you want to come on my cock or my fingers?" He asked as your cunt tensed around his digits. Ransom knew you were getting close and you hoped he would choose the former.

"I cant hear you" he added another digit as you begged through your gag. You wanted to feel him all of him, but there was no way to make your answer clear through the fabric.

"Well, if you are not going to answer I will pick for you."

Ransom knew what you wanted, even with your desperate mumbling. Kicking your legs father apart he then removed his fingers. You whimpered at the lack of touch, but you were also thrilled to finally get what you really wanted.

The sound of his zipper going down made you antsy. You danced on the heels of your feet with anticipation of his next move.

Ransom took his cock in one hand while he spread one of your cheeks with the other. He rubbed his cock against the deep pink within your folds.

Toying with you as you mumbled through the tie. His pre-cum mixed with your juices as he pressed his tip hard against your opening.

"Are you gonna be a good girl from me?" He teased. You furiously nodded 'yes'.

You felt the pressure of him entering you as drool seeped past your gag. "Do you belong to me?" He halted, the sudden stop drove you crazy. Again you nod and shouted 'yes' through your restraint.

"Good girl."

Ransom filled you to your core, only stopping when you sheathed him completely. You gripped the fabric of the hotel duvet, you hadn't expected him to be so big.

The slapping of flesh on flesh filled the room. His moans mixed with the sounds of your sloppy sex were enough to send you over the edge.

Ransom controlled the pace, his length undeterred by your lack of space to take him in. You cried through your gag as he sent jolts through your body. "You were made for me" he proclaimed as he snapped his hips into you.

Your mewls were muffled by the tie, but you were sure whoever was in the room next to you could still make out what was happening here.

"Fuck" he growled as he fucked you into the bed. "I'm gonna fill you up."

"Gonna make you nice and round" he slapped your ass as he thrusted. You felt your core tighten.

"Fuck Daddy I want to come on your cock!" You finally shouted as the gag finally slipped from your lips.

"Come in me Daddy!" You felt him twitch inside you at your desperate pleading.

"Oh baby girl your tempting me."

"Please!" You panted.

"Fuck" Ransom shouted as he shot his load inside you. You felt him coat you as you milked him dry.

Ransom fell on-top of you and your knees buckled, causing you both to fall forward onto the bed. Ransom moved off you, sweaty and exhausted. "Don't think that I'm done with you yet."

[sailorshadzter]

Prompt: Joffrey reveals himself to be a monster to her towards the start of the stay at Winterfell .Knowing that her parents cant reject the match between herself and the Crown Prince without repercussions,she stages a kidnapping and slips herself into the group heading to the Wall. Maybe she cuts off her hair/dyes her hair/steals some of Brans clothes.Kinda like a Mulan AU I guess?

OOOOOH WOW

this is one of those asks that i have to scroll for a minute to get to!!! but i got to it!!! IM SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO VERY LONG but inspiration strikes when it strikes. anyways, i might come out with a part 2 / dont tempt me to make this into another au i never finish but man the idea is GOOD.

anyways

i hope it was worth the wait.

As the night begins to dawn, Sansa Stark finds it hard to keep both feet on the ground.

She's lovestruck, falling hard for the golden haired Baratheon prince that's been put before her. With his charming good looks and regal posture, he's enough to make any maiden's heart flutter. In truth, even now with Joffrey and his parents, the King and Queen of the Iron Throne there in her own home, she's finding it hard to believe that she, she, of all people, will be the one to marry the prince. That someday she might be a queen as beautiful as his mother, Cersei Lannister, who smiles so sweetly whenever they meet, who speaks so tenderly, who upon after the betrothal was made official, calls her daughter, as if she so truly were.

"Come my lady, let us take one last walk." It's Joffrey now, bending over his arm in a bow as he approaches where she sits among the other young ladies of Winterfell. They erupt in giggles around her as she blushes to the roots of her hair but nods all the same, reaching out her hand to take his, allowing him to help her up onto her feet. Though she glances towards her mother, who sits engaged in conversation with her father and the King himself, Joffrey tugs on her hand and she can do nothing else besides follow after him. She knows it's inappropriate for her and the prince to sneak off alone like this, but she can't help but to excitedly wonder if he means only to steal her away for a private kiss. Besides, they are to be married in only a few short weeks, so what harm would it do?

They walk together out into the moonlit night, a surprising chill to the air that sends a shiver down her spine. If Joffrey notices, he does not speak on it, rather he continues to lead her through the courtyard where only a handful of guards and nobility mingle. It was astonishing just how many people came along with the King and his family and Sansa isn't certain there would ever be a way to remember all of their names. Along the back, they step into the gardens, the darkening sky pierced by the soft white light of the moon. "I will miss the moonlight of the North," she says as they fall to a stop before the brimming fountain, her lips curving with a smile. "But I suppose I will love it all the more whenever we return."

At her words, Joffrey turns, his expression not one she's seen before. It's not confusion, but rather, it looks like anger. No, it is something far beyond anger, and it frightens her down to her very core. Startled, Sansa begins to stammer an apology, but Joffrey silences her with a wave of his hand. "Return?" He scoffs, looking from her back towards Winterfell and back again. "We'll not be returning here once we leave," he goes on, shaking his head with a scathing sort of laugh that is far more chilling than the wind had been.

"Y-your pardon, I only meant... When we visit..."

"Did you not hear me, my lady... Once we leave here in two days, we shall not be returning. Not you and certainly not me. You will be my queen and you will stay South, where you belong." A strange feeling is creeping up within her; it's cold, it's deep, and it's so very dark. There is something about the way Joffrey says this that she knows it to be true. She realizes then, quite suddenly, that if she leaves with him as intended, she will never again return to Winterfell. She swallows. This isn't right, she thinks, he musn't mean it.

"I know the North is not entirely to your pleasure, but it is my home... I can't imagine never returning," she smiles, hoping her easy going tone is not lost to the shaking of her voice. "You may even grow to enjoy it here, if you give it a chance..." To her horror, Joffrey's hands shoot up and for a single instance, she thinks he means to strike her, but rather he takes hold of her by the upper arms, his grip like a vice. "M-my lord, you're h-hurting me," she whimpers, staring up into Joffrey's blazing eyes.

He leans in close to her, as close as he might have done for the kiss she had once hoped he'd bestow upon her, and breathes a simple reply. "Bid your home farewell, sweetheart, for we ride south in the morning." His grip lessens and then, he lets go entirely, taking a single step back from where she stands. The morning? She thinks, these words sinking in, realizing now that though she'd been told it would be another day before leaving... Evidently, someone had decided that there was no need to stay another night and no one had chosen to tell her. She wonders if this is cruelty on Joffrey's part or kindness of her parents, hoping to spare her the pain of knowing it was her last night home. Either way, it matters not, because she knows there's no way she can go South.

Not ever.

[ x x x ]

As she lays in bed, Sansa can do little else but stare at the ceiling above her bed and wish to be someone else. If she were anybody else, she would not be marrying the prince, and she would not be leaving home. Sansa had tried to explain her feelings to her mother, who had merely laughed and said it was nervous jitters. I had them, too, before I married your father, Cat Stark had said as she brushed out her daughter's hair for bed one last time. The next time she brushed this head of hair, it would be for her wedding day. The longer she spent with her mother that evening, the more Sansa realized she could not simply back out of this wedding. Sansa was not a stupid girl, though Arya might have argued differently, and she knew of the trouble brewing between the families. Between the kingdoms. She's overheard enough whispers and listened to enough speculation between her brothers to know that war was a very real possibility- some said only the good friendship between the Baratheon king and their father was what kept them safe. Sansa also knows, even just from the words spoken during their betrothal, that her marriage with Joffrey solidified the peace between them.

And yet...

The longer she thinks about it, the more she knows that despite it all, she cannot ride South. She knows of the stories, the ones of what happens to Stark men that go to King's Landing... What was stopping something terrible from happening to her as well? There had to be a way, there just had to be a way to free her from this wedding and ultimately, the prison King's Landing was certain to be.

It's just as she's resigning herself to her misery that something comes to her.

One of the stories she had read as a young girl, a story of a princess taken in the dead of night by an evil lord. Said princess was to be rescued by her true love, a shining knight of virtue that rides in on his white horse. And more is coming- it's not just her that is to leave on the morrow- but Jon, as well. Jon, her bastard brother, was being sent to the wall to join the Knight's Watch. He certainly would not be her knight, but if she could somehow slip in among him and the others heading out... Yes, it might possibly work.

But if it's going to work, she must work fast, as she knows the men are set to leave before morning light. And so she leaps from her bed and pulls on her dressing robe. It is late into the night, hours still from the morning call, but there is always the fear of a guard or even her father discovering her out of bed at such an hour. But she says a silent prayer to the Old Gods and then tiptoes from her room.

[ x x x ]

When the morning call comes, she's already gone, a single note hastily scratched in writing she hopes looks entirely unlike her own penmanship.

She's been gone well over an hour by then, for just as she had planned, she manages to slip away among those leaving for the Knight's Watch. With an old cloak draped over her shoulders, she keeps the hood up, shielding from those around her the red hair she's so well known for. Before leaving, she managed to snag some old breeches and shirt from the laundry, and she's braided her hair and tucked it up as much as she could. Luckily for her, she's mostly ignored by the other men, aside from one man who growls at her when she bumps into him halfway into the morning that first day.

The group walks for hours; far longer than she's certainly ever walked at one time. She's tired and she's hungry and she hurts in places she's never hurt before. But, there is a strange sense of warmth comes over her as she settles into a place of her own, away from the others, nearer to the river that runs through the forest. With no knowledge of how to build a fire, Sansa is thankful for the warmth of the summer night and hungry as she is, realizes she's far more tired than anything else. After a sleepless night and endless walking, she will forgo food if only it means she can sleep.

And so she wanders closer to the water's edge, where there beneath the canopy of darkness, she finally lowers her hood.

From where he watches, Jon finds himself intrigued by what he sees.

He can't really say what draws him to follow the hooded figure out to the river beyond simple curioisity. But now as he watches, he sees hands pulling what certainly must be pins from hair and to his shock, long hair comes tumbling down. Now he's really curious.

And just then, a cloud above them shifts and the moonlight illuminates her.

The red hair is vibrant, the pale moonlight weaving between the strands like ribbons. He's stunned, but his foot snaps a twig all the same. When she whips around, it's steel blue eyes he finds himself staring into and Jon wonders, despite sixteen years beneath the same roof as her, he's never noticed that look within her eyes. "Sansa..." Her name is on his lips before he can stop it and he realizes now that she is quite like a deer in the crosshairs, a creature torn between fight and flight.

She can't believe this.

Her fleeting sense of safety has fled, vanished into the night the moment those Stark gray eyes settled upon her. Of course, she can't now understand how she ever expected to avoid Jon forever, but she had hoped to at least be further out than this when they did meet. "Jon," she greets, taking a step away from the river and closer to where he stands. The moonlight is bright and it illuminates Jon in a way that makes her blink, makes her think. "Please..." It's the only plea she can offer, the only words that in this moment, seem right to say.

Jon studies her for a long moment; all things considered, she must have had a good reason to come. Sansa Stark wasn't the type to just... Throw it all away without a reason. Her dream of marriage to a prince was to come true, after all. Her golden haired Prince Joffrey had arrived in Winterfell only days before; a smug, ugly sort of kid that had grown tall, taller than even Robb, but one that had stolen Sansa's heart all the same. Jon wonders what could have made her do what she'd done. "I won't," he promises suddenly, earnestly.

Her face relaxes, she smiles.

She feels safe once again and it is far warmer than it was before.

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (6/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Thomas shelby patches you up after the attempt assassination.

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Not romantic...yet)

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Have a lovely day!

You anticipated the car ride to be long. But it was quite short. Granted you were dozing off from the fatigue and loss of blood so maybe to did take longer than what you believed. You woke up with ripped cloth around your hand and arm. The areas that were bleeding the most. Thomas helps you out of the car, he held you by your elbow, keeping you steady as you walked. You notice the lack of his jacket. You were too tired to object to his help. You brace yourself for Ada’s yelling and look of disappointment when you realize your not even in London. You’re in front of a pub the sign reading the Garrison. 

 “Where are we?” You ask

 “Birmingham. Lads take care of him” Thomas and you head inside the empty bar together. You hear the muffled cries of the assassin being dragged away, “(Y/N) take a seat.” He takes off his holster throwing it to a farther chair and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He disappears to the back.

 You take a moment to look at your surroundings. The pub looked to you as if it was under some construction. You yawn. Thomas comes back with a handful of supplies and bottle of alcohol in his arms.

 “You don’t have to do that Mr. Shelby. If you cant drive me back, Ill take the train to London.”

 “Let me see your hand.” He dips his tools in the alcohol

 You give it to him, not wanting to be stubborn. He unwraps the cloth to reveal the ugly gash underneath. You hiss in pain as he pours the alcohol over it. He hands over the bottle to your good hand, you take a swig of it immediately. The adrenaline from your body was gone and everything was beginning to hurt.

 He concentrates deeply as he begins to stich your hand together.  

 “I’ve already called Ada. Told her you were staying here.” He states.

 “She’s gonna have my head.”

 “She will forgive.”

 You sigh, wishing for the day to be over, “Does the horse have a name yet?”

 He pauses, “…Graces secret.”

You can feel the effects of the alcohol run through your body as your mouth begins to run without your brains approval, “Who inspired that one,” You blurt out before your eyes widen. You can feel your intestines cringe on the inside.

 He doesn’t answer or pause his work or look you in the eye. He just continues stitching your hand.

  You begin to ramble, “I’m sorry if that was too personal.” You say quietly.

 “Its just a name.” He says, “Let me see your arm.”

 You pull the sleeve of your dress down, the gash just as bad as your hand. Thomas pulls his chair closer to you. You begin to be very aware of him. Your knees felt like they were on fire as they touched his. You were so close that you were less than an arms length away from touching his chest.

 ‘stupid alcohol.” You think to yourself trying to distract yourself with something in the room. You had the urge to touch him, a feeling nonexistent when you were sober.

 “You shouldn’t have walked away on your own” He sates. You can feel his breath hit your arm.

 “I’ll remember that for next time.” You sarcastically say.

“I’m serious.”

 “I don’t work for you, Mr. Shelby.”

 “That could change.” He says.

 You ignore his words and decide to watch as he carefully stiches your arm his eyes not moving away and he pierces the needle in and out of your skin like a professional seamstress, “Where did you learn to do this?” you ask.

 He clears his throat, “My mother taught me to sew. Came very useful in France.”

 “…You served?”

 “Aye. I was a Tunneller”

 He finishes with your arm and leans back in the chair. You take another swig of from the bottle.

 “So whats next for you?” He asks.

 “Sleep, Mr.Shelby.” You say.

“I’ve told you call me Tommy.”

 You shake your head and smile. You weren’t quite comfortable calling him by his first name. It wasn’t him, it was just ingrained into you to call men by their last name. You father taught you that when talking to men like this you had to remember they were not your friends. It was one of the things you valued from learning from your father. A lesson you would take to the grave. There was only one time you didn’t call a man by his last name. Billy Kimber. You were young and defiant against your father. You had said a few to no words to the man. You did use the name Billy to address him. You regretted the minute you did because after it was unwanted, constant flirting. It got so bad you had told your mother, fearing that the man would go to far. Your father ended business with him because of it, blaming you for the failed partnership.

And talking to Mr. Shelby was easy for you. Too easy. You were constantly watching what you were saying but sometimes you just said too much.

‘Its his eyes.’ You think to yourself. Those dam eyes. They looked tired but the glow still glowed with life. You were very infatuated with them. You had never seen a color quite like it. You notice his lips moving but you don’t register whats being said.

 “What?”

 “I asked, if you know May Carlton.”

 “mmm So she introduced herself?” You giggle to yourself recalling the way she was staring at him.

 He tilts his head, amusement swimming around his face, “Whats funny?”

 “Oh c’mon you didn’t notice how she was staring at you? The girl wanted to eat you up.” You lean forward to grab the bottle again, but Thomas grabs it before you.

 “I think you’ve had enough.”

 You pout and lean back in a huff.

 “What do you know about her?” He asks

 “Are you asking me so you can ask her out or use her?” You ask

 He raises an eyebrow and smiles at you. Even in a drunken state you were still sharp as a tack.

 You sigh at his silence, confirming what you knew, “She has a lot of influence and respect with a lot of important people.” You choose your words very carefully.

“More information would be helpful.”

 “I’m sure you could your own research.” You say feeling drowsy. He notices and stands up from his chair.

 “C’mon, I’ll drive you home.” He says leading you to his car. your out like a light before he even starts the car.

*******************************************************************************************

You wake up disoriented and nauseous. You panic not recognizing where your laying at until you remember that your Adas house. You sign in relief and sit up. You were on the couch, still in your blood stained dress. Your right side of your body was sore as you walked to the kitchen, hearing talking and movement. You open the door to see Ada, Karl, and a man at the table eating breakfast. They all turn to look at you once you enter.

 “(Y/n), your up!” Ada says wrapping her arms around you to hold you. After your hug she immediately starts yelling at you. You stand there like a child getting scolded by her mother.

 Once her reprimanding is done she introduces you to the unfamiliar face, James, who was now your new roommate.

 “You would have met him yesterday, if you didn’t decide to run off with my brother.” Ada mutters under her breath.

“Did he leave me anything?” You ask remembering you were suppose to pay for your services.

 “Its in your room.”

 You excuse yourself from the table and drag your feet up the stiars. You see a thick envelope on your bed with your name on it. You open it slowly revealing a large wad a cash and a note. It reads:

 y/n, we’ll be in touch – Mr.Shelby.

 You smile at the little note and place it underneath your pillow while the cash gets placed underneath your mattress. You look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess head to toe. Your hair a bird’s nest and the skin on your face and arms littered with little cuts all around. And the right side of your body was very noticeable with the large stiches

 ‘that’s gonna scar’. You think to yourself as you prepare for a shower.

 Today, with the worlds biggest hangover over your head, you had an agenda. You were gonna do as Thomas Shelby said and find your fathers death records.

Read pt.7

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-0434

[cottoncandyreaper]

(Heisenberg's Child part3)

This place was a maze! How would anyone live in it!? I kept getting turned around repeatedly and it was really starting to become a bother. I'd turn left and have to go right or right then have to take a left; it was a horror maze.

"Hey kiddo~ you don't know this place like I do so I suggest to stop running."

"Shut up old man!"

The echo of a growl bounced against the walls as I kept on wherever I could to get away and hopefully out all together. I could hear more footfalls catching up with me rapidly; assuming lycans as I grabbed anything metal near by and threw it behind me. Right at the throw as the item left my control something like static hit me in my back sending me down to my knees. It made my arms feel like rubber and hurt my head.

"Aww~ all pooped out of energy there? Sucks to be a kid huh?"

Heisenberg had caught up way to quick reaching down grabbing my arm with a tough yank only to twist me around and put me in a head lock as Mother Miranda seemed to only appear from the shadows that dripped around the edges of the hallway with the others approaching not long after. I latched my hands on his arm clenching at the fabric of his coat giving the strongest yanks I could muster as the smell of oil and cigar smoke filled my nostrils: he didn't budge.

"You've caused a vast amount of damage in the span of thirty minutes already dear."

The last word held venom as she reached out grabbing my face, a stinging sensation pricked my cheeks letting me know that her nails had left their marks.

"You will do best as to listen and behave...you are my granddaughter...I'd like to keep you around as such, being apart of this family will be your salvation child so hold it tight."

She released my cheeks as the stinging persistenced against reddened flesh while she walked away as the others moved to the sides letting her pass.

"Heisenberg I'm sure you will be able to place some much needed manners into your daughter. I trust you to handle any more tantrums from her."

"Of course Mother."

Those were the final words as he turned from the group still choosing to keep me in a headlock and left them but what pissed me off the most was that we turned down two simple hallways and out a door then we were outside. What the hell!? I was so close!! But now that we were outside the struggling intensified trying to wrestle away but the more I struggled the less air I had.

"I can't kill you...but I'll knock ya out to make it a quiet trip back home, choose your poison."

"G-get the f-fuck off me! This is...bullshit!"

"Yeah I know but now you're just shit out of luck and until Mother Miranda does whatever she wants with you you're stuck with your old man till then."

"Y-your not my dad...my dad, died in war!"

He went silent as the walking picked back up down a hill towards a large iron gate with a crest in the front and back of it. There were too many details going on for me to care.

"Don't touch the gate...I'll cut your hands off if you try."

"Bet."

Releasing my hand from his sleeve reaching out towards the old hinges holding the gate up he didn't even have time to grab my wrist when a pain filled gasp crumbled my legs making him drop me as the static filled my bones to the brim.

"What the hell was that? Dropping you on the ground fuck up your back?"

"N-no..."

The static was lingering longer then normal but I guess trying to use my abilities to soon after the first attack was a big no go.

"Looks like your other 'family' locked up your full potential...they were scared of you even as a child."

I sent up a glare his way as he grabbed my arm focusing me to my feet ignoring the very obvious fact that I was having a hard time walking until the static left.

"Hate to break it to ya kid but I can prove I'm your dad rather you want me to be or not...and I really don't want to be but now we're stuck together because of it."

"Oh well that just sounds so delighful."

"Your attitude is annoying."

"Your face is annoying."

I could see his eye just barely look at me from the corner.

"Really? That's the best come-back you got?"

"For now sure."

He grumbled a few chose words forcing the rest of the walk into silence which honestly was just fine with me. I was tired and in pain...the silence was a blessing but the walk was long and kinda hard since he never let loose the hold on my arm until what felt like hours later and we stood infront of a similar giant gate with a different crest on it depicting a horse. He used his ability to open it, walk past it and closed it once more before choosing to let go.

"Walk straight up to that factory kid, this time the playing field is even ground."

"Sure, I'd love nothing more then to be in a factory full of metal with you, sounds like a great playing field."

"Oh it will be."

Giving a shove to my shoulder I started on up the hill watching as the size of the factory became more intimidating the closer we got.

"You live here?"

"Yep."

"Ya know isn't it a oh I don't know...a bad idea to have me here with all the metal? Sure, let's go with the thought that maybe you are my dad and I didn't get these abilities out of no where but ya know...metal. Isn't that a red flag for a prisoner?"

"Damn I wish you'd stop talking."

"Damn I wish you'd answer a simple question!"

He growled kicking the back of my knee sending me down to the dirt and rocks adding blood to my jeans from the inside.

"Listen here ya little shit; we're doing a fucking DNA test once I get you pass those doors, I hate to believe that in all of hell I'd be the lucky old bastard to somehow become a father 'cuz I sure didn't ask for you. Secondly; I control metal. You control metal. You cant fight what you can't win against and obviously you have a limit and I don't...I'd kill you in a second in this factory if that crazy bitch didn't want you for whatever sick reason she has in her mind. So shut the fuck up, get up and get in the factory."

Tears were stinging the corners of my eyes as I mustered the strength to get up dusting off my pants a bit before crossing my arms and started back up the hill. He was right...he could kill me in seconds and I had a limit. I was fucked either way until Chris found me. He rushed me too and through the doors quickly as lycans began watching from the fields around...that was unnerving. Getting pass them via Heisenberg and his newly found shoving nature I felt a little bit more of my hope cut away as my eyes stared at everything around. This place was huge, much bigger then it appeared from the outside with stairs leading to unknown destinations and doors sprinkled about.

"Come on kid, we have shit to figure out."

Grabbing my wrist almost to the breaking point he pulled me along to a elevator that had definitely seen better days as we stood inside its rusted cage and he smacked the shit out of whatever button he needed to get it moving miraculously. It was a rough start but smoothed out as it made its grand descent away from probably the only exit I'd ever see.

"Are you really going to make me do a DNA test?"

"Damn right I am and didn't I tell you to shut the fuck up?"

"Little conversation never hurt anyone pops."

[akishito]

The laws of men

Witcher Oc (Světlana CatAu fic.) Angst - procced witch caution :D

Ao3 link

One has to obey the rules, the laws created by society. They exist to mend the chaos of natural order. But not even following the rules can smooth the chaos within one. The law may as well be part of the chaos tearing you from the inside.

The woods were quiet today. Never a good sign. Světlana rode Mesiats throw the woods, following a trail. The monstrous head of a Kikimora dangled at the side of the ashen horse. They were heading to the nearest village in the hope of making some coin - for the Kikimora or other vise. 

The autumn colored the leaves in warm shades, but it was still early for them to fall and make the forest floor wet and slippery. So Světlana rode her loyal friend with confidence in the saddle and determined to make it to the village by twilight. The only thing clouding Světlana's mind was the absence of birds chipping in the crowns, the cracking of fallen sticks by the wildlife. It was a pretty big cloud blocking the sun. Yet her medallion remained calm on her chest, unmoving.

As she was approaching the small town, she noticed several points hoarding her suspicions into a large knot curling in the pit of her stomach. She could hear some noise of life now but mute somehow. She did not get down from the saddle as she neared the town square, nor she stopped listening for any unusual noises in this small and dirty town. 

With every new street, she came across many new disturbing clues of what might await her at the center of this place. Countless footprints in the mud coming out of town following much smaller ones overlapping with those suggesting a pair of shoes being dragged throw the dirt in the opposite direction.  Someone was dragged and most likely against their will.  

Maybe this was not the best time for her to came to this town. She wondered who was the unlucky one. A thief, murdered, non-human? 

When she reached the outskirts of the surprisingly large square, she finally got down from her horse. With reins in her hand, Světlana went closer to the gibbet. The people, captured in their twisted fascination, let her permeate throw, not noticing who she was or what her horse was carrying. 

She was unable to make up who found their death here today. The sun sat low, and its rays blinded Světlanas sensitive eyes. With the hood low, the sun shined over the roofs, making it impossible to see. It was a man, that was all she gathered. But with every step, she was more and more scared to take another. 

Like a pendulum swinging from side to side, Světlana's feet moved in a dreadful rhythm. And then she took one too many. The sunlight died down, hiding behind the roofs completely - now there was nothing to block her ability to see what she deep down already knew. 

 Her brother hanged before her, stripped from his armor. Left in nothing but his underpants and his Cat medallion around his neck. The only thing that was supposed to be around his neck. No, this was not true. 

"Gaetan," she breathed out, not aware that the words left her mouth.

A mature woman by her side caught Světlana's whisper, and in an instant, screamed and threw herself back into the crowd. Face so shocked and twisted like she was looking at the devil himself. Světlana did not spare her a single glance as she approached the gallows. I have to get him down. I have to. 

One by one, the townspeople backed down from her way, like a wave. They were parting before her so she could stand with her feet dry. 

Gaetan's body unmoving, cold, and so close. They dragged him here like an animal. What happened?!

"One more step and, you will hang next to him." An authoritative voice pierced throw her fixed focus. Světlana slowly turned her head to face with the dark hard eyes of the town mayor. He was in his forties, tall and lean. He stood still in a blizzard that was Světlana's presence in this little execution. 

"What crimes did this man commit to being sentenced to death?" She kept her voice low but loud enough for the man to hear her. How does her face look right now? Are the anger and confusion getting throw the mask she wears instead of a human face? 

"For what he has done, there is no other punishment more fitting than death."

"That does not answer my question." The mayor fell silent for a moment, checking if his guards were close by his side to strike if the witcher before him started acting funny.

"The Witcher killed the miller and his oldest son. With no reason, unprovoked." He spoke with the pacing and intonation of someone schooled by a home tutor. This man came from a wealthy upbringing, not fitting the place this small town was. 

"My brother had more blood on his hands than your town butcher, but not even him would act on a whim like this. Show me proof or got helps me. Single lie and, you will need more than those tin cans by your side to keep you safe from me ripping your throat out." Monotone, her voice monotone, and flat. That's the best way to keep it. Let your stance and stare do the work.  Don't try me.  

"Witness saw the whole act unfold."

"Then let me speak to them."

The major and she held long, staring contact before the older man beckoned for someone by his right hand. The cries that followed shocked Světlana. She watched as one of the guards shoved a young woman to the side to get to the little boy behind her. "No, you cant do this. Get him away from the monster! Let my son go, did he not suffer enough?!" Another guard had to hold the woman so she could not run to her boy and shield him from what she believed was an open mouth of a werewolf. The kid had red eyes from crying tears dried on his cheeks. He was visibly frightened, shaking maybe, but he followed the guard to the mayor. She something familiar in this little boy, something buried so deep she quickly locked it back. 

"Tell us what you saw, Matěj."  The protests by the mother echoed in the background, and the major sounded authoritative, and the little boy choked on the first syllable he tried to force out. She watched him struggle and wondered why he even was here - in shock, frightened, watching a man die. 

Světlana kneeled to get to the boy's level. Let me help you, little one. Matěj took her action by surprise as the rest of the nearby people, but she just raised her hand and as she prepared her fingers to perform the sign in a calm voice said: "It's Ok. No one's going to hurt you. Please, tell me what happened to the miller." She spoke to him she did to the newcomers at the old keep.  They were too in a place they had no business of being.

Axie worked immediately. The boy calmed down and started to speak. He spoke a tale of an old miller that used to give him sweet treats when he helped around and how one day a horse came running from the woods without a rider. And how the horse walked funny and how the miller gave it water and oat. And how the horse stayed with the miller for two days before a strange man came from the woods covered in blood. The man from the tale was dirty and talked nonsense. How he laughed at the miller, calling him a blood-sucking leach. How he shouted, he is not afraid of a vampire, not even a high one. How he cut the poor man in half and how his son lost his head trying to help his father. And how he collapsed on the ground in a spasm. And how the boy runs for help to bring it to the horror unimaginable. The tale ended with the good man dragging the unconscious murdered to the town square to meet his fate. To be punished. 

"You heard the boy. Do you believe us now?" The major placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze while his eyes on Světlana, nervous, trying not to let his unease to be known. 

"I do believe the boy. But you still killed my brother and without a trial."

"For crimes like this, no trial is required. Do you judge a monster by human law before you slay it? Do you let them state their case, to defend themselves before you behead them?" Světlana remained on her knee, looking at the boy whose big blue eyes looked for his mom. 

This whole situation made her feel like she is balancing on a rope stretched out over a burning pit. Yet she felt blinded by all the feelings she was not showing, feelings that many believed were not there at all.  "Every monster has reasons why they do what is natural to them. They live and need to feed, just like everyone else. You would be surprised, Major, how often could a tragedy be prevented, only if people understood that."

"Are you siding yourself with the pest you hunt?"  The Major felt the crowd was on his side. The dimmed voices and reactions carrying throw this whole conversation only got more bold and brash.  Not even I could get away from this in one piece.  

"No, I was just answering your question."

Silence fell between them. The silence broke by Světlana and her demand. "Cut him off."

"The law states he has to hang for three days." 

"Cut him off." 

"The law..."

"Cut. Him. Off." 

Her voice still flat, forcedly emotionless. The sooner Gaetan was down, the sooner she could... She could... She could what? 

I have to get him off! I have to get to him off! I have to get him off! I have to get him...

"In three days, you will be allowed to take his body. Not sooner." The majors' voice was cold as a shard of ice and just as sharp.

*** 

On the first day, she went to the mill to see the place with her own eyes. Maybe to found out if the miller was a vampire after all, which was nonsense.  She demanded to see the bodies after she accepted the majors' condition. Pieces of meat, that's what she saw. Nothing vampiric about that. 

They did not let her get closer enough to see Gaetan's body at the gallows. Just a piece of dead meat now as well. What made him act this way? Was her brother that far gone? Did those mutations inflict their final harm? Everything hurt inside, twisted like a knot. No, not now. Not here. Breath. One in, one out. 

The mill deserted without a single soul neer it. Světlana wondered if the miller had a wife or other children and was glad they were not there when her brother came. If they were here now, would she apologize to them? 

The first day was for her to doubt. On the first day, she builds a reconciliation cross.

***

On the second day, she wonders about the forest. Like she is a young child unkissed by the rough lips of life. Unaware of the dangers there. She feels empty, hollow like an old willow tree.  

She walks, and the leaves crack under her soles. She listens. She finds an old graveyard in the forest not so far from where the mill is. She sees the rotting corpses and dried blood. Ghouls slaughtered - work of a witcher, flasks from drank potions laying scattered on the ground. 

The second day was for her to look and find. On the second day, she destroys a graveyard wall in a flash of frustration. 

***

On the third day, she feels it's somewhat harder to sense herself. On the third day, she feels tired of waiting but follows the rules anyway.  On the third day, she collects Gaetan's things from the majors' guards and throws them together with her own into the bag on Mesiats saddle. 

She meditates in front of the gallows. The sun, burning her on every little piece of skin she did not cover enough. She waits for the right time to take her brother down. She sits. She waits. 

The townspeople avoided her the entire time she was here, from day one. But as the time limit was coming to an end, they too become restless.  The sun was gradually hiding behind the roofs, just like when she came to this forsaken town. 

When the first stone left the palm of an unnamed man, Světlana felt the stone brush against her shoulder. "Leave, you freak," yelled the old man, and more were joining him. She could see the exhaustion and frustration in his eyes, but she was swamped by these feelings too. 

And she was ready. No, she was not going to draw a  sword on them - no more meaningless bloodshed.  But she did defend herself. Quen was her friend in many battles and helped her in this one as well. At the impact with the barrier, the stones reflected and bounced back to those who throw them. Some of them hit the shocked people with a force they did not expect. "Blood, there is always blood when we are around, Světli," Gaetan spoke to her, and it felt real. It hurt. 

"Enough!" She yelled back."I waited for three days as your law states. I did not break any other law while I remained here. And now I am getting my brother off." Was she yelling? Who knows. There was no right side, no wrong one, not to her. Yet she hated the frightened humans watching her cut down the stiff body of what used to be her brother. She despised them as she rode her horse throw the center of the square and out of the town. She loathed them as she rode her horse, crushing everything in their way, as her chest felt tight, her ribs pounding by an ungraspable weight.

The third day was for her to... The third day was for her to... The third day was for her to... 

***

The wood crackled and, smoke ascended to the sky. 

Her brother was dead - she was not. It did not felt right. 

[thebiasrekkers]

Amaryllis: The Past || JHS

For the @bangtanscenery​ - April Showers Bring May Flowers Project in celebration of the Spring Season!

Plot: The year is 1170 AD in the kingdom of Goryeo. Nestled in a quiet corner of their world, two people are drawn together and love blossoms in their hearts. However, as tensions begin to rise between their nations, they are unwillingly pulled into the conflict. Their determination to overcome all odds becomes the nail needed for Fate to hammer into their coffins.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: historical!au | period!au | soulmate!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Female OC (Bayaraa Ehri)

Warnings: Mild language, extreme angst, major character deaths

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 13.4K

AN: Guys, when I tell you that I wasn't ready for this to be as big of a monster as I thought it would be, I was not prepared. At all. Period. This is the first Period/Historical!AU I've written in a while and definitely a first for BTS. I've always been a sucker for reincarnation stories and so laying the groundwork for this made me really happy. This is a tragic love story, but I promise that it will be better in the second part I plan on releasing next month! Enjoy and remember that you are loved!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Goryeo Kingdom 1170 AD

The noise of the marketplace seemed to erupt in mixed sounds of pleasantries and laughter. There was a constant tone flitting in and out; the sound of laughter and of so many market vendors talking at once. They were all trying to get people to look at their wares, to purchase them and make new deals. Hoseok smiled as he strolled through the streets, dodging oncoming children squealing in delight as they ran past the adults. The silk fabric of his robs clung to his figure, his lute bouncing lightly across his back and his satchel hung from his side.

To others, he appeared as nothing more than a traveling minstrel. But the truth of the matter was that he came from an upstanding noble family that was directly connected to the royal bloodline in the Goryeo Kingdom. He didn't like to make a fuss about it and neither did his brothers. Their father was blessed to have seven sons and Hoseok was the third-born son, granting him a little bit more freedom than his two older brothers. He had less responsibilities.

Hence why he was strolling around in the general public in his incognito garbs, masquerading as a traveling performing artist and poet.

"Sir," called a vendor, attempting to garner Hoseok's attention, "you look like a man who believes in good fortune!"

Hoseok paused, craning his neck to look at the man who had a variety of items spread out over his table. Nothing seemed to stick out and he wondered what any of his items had to do with good fortune. Just as he was about to ask, the man reached behind the table and lifted up a small, lacquered box from underneath. The design was exquisite, boasting a unique hand-craftsmanship with the various floral patterns cut from Mother of Pearl shells. Hoseok raised his brows, curious to see what could be inside of such a lovely chest.

When the man opened the box, he revealed a flower forged in metal. It sat on a cushion of black satin, but the flower itself almost seemed to gleam in the afternoon sunlight. It's stem was long, the leaves taking on a soft shine as it curled around the base of the flower. At the top, the petals were long and spindly, resembling a spider lily.

No. It was a spider lily.

Some artisan actually forged a spider lily.

Hoseok's lips parted as he reached his hand toward the flower. "It's beautiful," he whispered. But just before his fingers could brush against the metallic leaves, the vendor quickly closed the lid of the box, causing a frown to form on Hoseok's face. "How much?"

The market vendor was unable to hide his amusement as he waggled a finger at him. "Now now, My Lord, I must insist that you listen to the good fortune that comes with purchasing this flower. The artist who made this said the explanation is a must to anyone who wishes to have this flower in their possession."

Sighing, Hoseok brushed some of his bangs out of his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. "Very well. Go ahead."

The vendor smiled, clapped his hands together rapidly, and then slowly opened the box to reveal the flower. "Do you know the legend behind the Spider Lily, My Lord?"

Smothering down his own amusement, Hoseok shook his head. Of course he knew the legend of the Spider Lily. It was a tale forged in sorrow about two lovers who neglected their duties to watch over the petals and leaves. The Gods punished them and they promised to find one another again in the Underworld. However, they were unable to do so, hence they could not be reunited in the next life when they were reincarnated.

"I find it hard to believe that you don't," teased the vendor, which caused Hoseok to cant his head slightly, "but let's just say that this flower isn't an ordinary spider lily. The one who forged this flower said that the tragedy still exists inside, just as the legend dictates. But unlike Manju and Saka, the one who holds this flower will be able to reunite with their loved one in the next life. Guaranteed."

Hoseok couldn't help the scoff that escaped his lips. "How can the artisan possibly guarantee something like that? Was it the Jade Emperor who forged this flower? Is he an ethereal being who is going to be able to follow my spirit into the Underworld and ensure that I do not drink from the Spring of Forgetfulness so that I can, in fact, remember the face of the one I love in my next life?"

The vendor appeared perturbed by the onslaught of questions being thrown at him. But he seemed to collect himself well enough to puff his chest out and cleared his throat loudly. "W-Well, I'm just relaying the words to you as the artisan wished. If you do not want to purchase this rare item, then I will simply put it away."

As the man moved to close the box, Hoseok reached out to place his hand over the vendor's. He hesitated and Hoseok smiled warmly at him. "I apologize. I did not mean to offend, Good Sir. I'm a skeptic by nature, I'm afraid, and I let my lips run away before I could catch them." Again, the vendor cleared his throat, but he seemed less offended than earlier. "Regardless of the artisan's intent, this flower truly is beautiful. The story behind the spider lily is a sad one, but looking at this, I can tell they created this from love."

He could practically feel the vendor beaming at him. "Would you like to purchase it, My Lord?"

Hoseok smiled, reaching into his coin purse, and pulled out three gold coins. "Will this be enough?"

The vendor gasped. "T-That's more than the artisan asked for!"

Grinning, he pulled out another coin to add to the three. "Then I insist that you give him two and you keep the other two for your troubles."

Taking the coins from him, the vendor wasted no time wrapping the lacquered box up in a silk cloth. The vendor hurriedly handed the wrapped item to Hoseok, beaming wildly at the amazing exchange he’d just made. Hoseok wasn’t sure why he seemed so happy since he didn’t regret handing off the gold.

He only hoped that the vendor was honest and didn’t keep all four coins for himself.

“Lad-I mean, L-Lord Ehri!” A young attendant ran with her skirts hiked up as far as she could manage as she tore through the busy market streets. “My Lord, please wait!”

Erhi evaded her attendant, doing her best to smother her feminine sounding laugh as she hurried through the crowd. She was dressed in her incognito outfit, a young male warrior specifically. It was mostly so she could maneuver without any people questioning her reason for being there as a foreigner. Her father, a noble and wealthy merchant from the Mongols, was currently on a business venture in Goryeo. While her older sisters were obediently at his side, learning the proper etiquette for business, Erhi was left to her own devices.

For better or worse, she was allowed to roam the city streets of the kingdom so long as her attendant was with her and she stayed out of trouble. Erhi agreed to her father’s demands, but only to his face. She was positive that her parents knew of her outlandish behavior that strayed far from the proper lady fashion, but because she was the youngest, she was able to get away with it to a degree.

Her father was a businessman, after all. If she wanted to do something, there had to be a give and take deal. She was allowed to learn swordsmanship as long as she studied sewing. She could ride a horse if she practiced dancing. And she could train with the merchant troupe’s regiment if she could brew a proper pot of tea and serve it just as eloquently.

In that aspect, Erhi liked to think she was better off than her sisters. But mostly because they, themselves, had no interest in the things men liked to do. Especially since both were already promised to suitors. Erhi was too gruff to appeal to any male in her father’s circles and she preferred it that way.

Hence the reason she was running through the streets of a foreign city like a child.

She did her best to dodge the innocent bystanders on the street, twirling on her heels to avoid colliding into them needlessly. However, she hadn’t anticipated a group of children squealing through the crowd simultaneously. Ehri jumped suddenly, fully clearing the children as they stopped to stare off at the tails of her robes fluttering behind her. Focused on their awestruck faces, she failed to pay attention to what was ahead of her.

And what was in front of her was an unsuspecting young man carrying something wrapped in silk in his arms. She only managed to catch a glimpse of his surprised face and the lute strapped to his back before their bodies collided against one another; hard. There was a distinct crunch sound that seemed to reverberate throughout her entire body as the wind was knocked from her lungs. Coughing out the dirt that managed to spray up from the ground and into her nose, she heard the man groaning from underneath her. 

Gasping, Erhi quickly scrambled off the man and saw his face screwed up in pain. She immediately reached out for him, her hands grasping at his shoulders to help him sit up. “I’m so sorry,” she said, dusting off his silk robes, “I should have been paying attention, Naeuri.”

The young man grunted, coughing as he attempted to straighten the front of his robe. “It's fine. No harm done.” He extended his arms and shook the sleeves of his garbs back and forth while smiling. “See?”

Erhi flushed, embarrassed she’d lost her sense of awareness for even a moment and caused an innocent bystander to be caught up in her mess. She got to her feet, helping him up to where he continued to pat off the dirt from his clothes. Just as she was about to ask if he was alright, the true shame in her actions began to set in. Because there, at their feet, was what remained of his lute. Even the silken cloth wrapped around his parcel came loose, tilting sadly to showcase that whatever was inside was damaged as well. 

Suddenly, her attendant burst through the crowd looking haggard and annoyed. When she finally flattened her skirts down, she met Erhi’s gaze and stopped short before her rant could even start. Erhi quickly shook her head back and forth, silently urging her to pretend that she didn’t know her. Her attendant sighed, approaching the both of them as though she were a curious civilian wanting to make sure the two of them were alright.

“You’re both not hurt, are you, My Lords?” 

Erhi inwardly sighed with relief, gesturing to the young man at her side. “I’m fine.” She turned to look at the stranger. “I believe I’ve damaged your belongings. Please allow me to make amends by paying you for what the items were worth.”

The man smiled, shaking his head as he waved his hands back and forth. “Oh no, that’s not necessary. Truly.” He peered at Ehri closely, causing her to flush slightly. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

She bowed, her hair falling to curtain her face. “Yes, thank you.”

Erhi watched the man pick up his broken lute and ruined parcel. But he seemed unaffected by it. This made the guilt fall heavier on her heart and just as she was about to insist that she be allowed to make amends, he stepped toward her. They were just inches away from each other, causing her to gasp slightly while taking a step backward. 

“Shall we have a cup of tea to commemorate this occasion?”

Blinking rapidly at him, the young man smiled almost mischievously at Ehri. Then he leaned forward, his lips just barely brushing up against the shell of her ear.

“I would offer to share a drink, but inviting a woman to indulge in alcohol in the middle of the day  would seem a bit presumptuous and rude, yes?”

If Ehri was flushing a soft pink earlier, she was a full blown shade of scarlet at that exact moment. Craning her neck to look at him, she felt her lips parting in both shock and outrage as he continued to preen at her. When had he been able to see through her disguise? How could he have discovered the truth in such a short amount of time.

The snap of a fan brought her out of her internal reverie and she hopped back a full two feet from him as he slowly moved the fan back and forth across his body. He wasn’t being smug about it. She could tell that he was genuinely amused. And this, alone, piqued her curiosity.

Frowning, she huffed before giving an overly dramatic flourish of her arm as she stepped to the side. “After you, Naeuri,” she said through clenched teeth, “I insist.”

The playful twinkle never left his eyes and he merely strolled past her, snapping the fan closed as he pointed toward the direction straight ahead. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

Ehri caught her attendant’s eye and they both sighed in defeat, their legs feeling much heavier than they had just a few minutes ago.

This was problematic.

“I see,” Hoseok said in mid-sip, “so you’re from Mongolia.” He nodded, watching the two women seated across from him shifting uncomfortably in front of him. “That’s very interesting!”

The woman frowned as she sipped her tea while her attendant nervously cradled the porcelain between her fingers. Hoseok did his best to keep from bursting into small fits of laughter, but it was a very trying task. Especially since the woman who collided into him seemed hellbent on trying to find every opportunity to escape from his sight. 

Like he’d let that happen.

“I must admit, you caught me by surprise.” He smiled as her brows furrowed. “To think a young woman could tear through the streets in such a fashion. Normally it’s young boys with that sort of amount of energy.”

The woman huffed, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. “Why is that so surprising? I heard the women of Goryeo have just as much freedom as the men do.”

He nodded, lifting the cup of tea to his face. “Yes, they do. Which is why they don’t have to disguise themselves as men as you have.” She scoffed, her eyes shifting to meet his own as they widened slightly. “Do Mongolian women not have such free reign?”

“That’s not--!”

Hoseok leaned forward, intrigued and unable to hide his own curiosity. He knew he probably looked like a starry-eyed little boy, but he couldn’t hold back his fascination. As a member of the royal household’s branch family, Hoseok had little chances to interact with other foreigners unless he snuck away from home in the same way this young woman did. In a sense, they were both having similar experiences but for very different reasons.

“I heard that Mongolian children are able to ride horses before they even learn how to walk! Is that true?” She just stared at him, blinking every so often, and he leaned back quickly as while shaking his head back and forth. “Oh my, I’ve been so rude! Please forgive me. I never even introduced myself.” Hoseok bowed his head slightly. “My name is Hoseok. And you?”

There was a small measure of silence that stretched between them before she lifted her own teacup to her lips. 

“Ehri.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning back a bit, “Ehri-ssi.”

Hoseok watched her sip from her cup. He took note of how delicate her hands appeared. As she set it down, he focused back on her face. Their eyes stayed trained on each other before Ehri shifted her gaze to his belongings that were beside him on the bench. 

“I was serious about repaying you for your things, Hoseok Naeuri.”

He laughed. “That’s not necessary. My lute has seen better days, of course, but I was already planning on buying a new one.”

She lofted a single brow. “And your other item?”

“Not to worry. Only the box was ruined, but not completely. The item inside is perfectly fine.”

He visibly saw her shoulders relax, as well as her attendant’s. 

“How did you know?”

Hoseok was about to indulge in one of the sweet rice cakes when he stopped, his hand hovering over the plate. “Hm? Know what?”

"That I wasn’t a man.”

Her tone was so flat that it caused him to sputter a chuckle unintentionally.

He picked up one of the soft rice cakes while shrugging one shoulder. “Well, it wasn’t hard considering you fell on top of me chest first.” Hoseok watched her nose crinkle up and he bit his lip, smothering a grin from breaking out over his features. “And the fact that your attendant is a woman and a terrible actress.”

Ehri’s attendant groaned in defeat while she, in turn, merely huffed her annoyance. Hoseok was amused with how expressive she was. It was charming in a way. Not many women, even in Goryeo, openly wore their feelings on their sleeves as she did. Even though she was traveling incognito with her attendant, she had no problem expressing her emotions freely. 

He found himself drawn to her level of freedom.

“How long will your family be in Goryeo?” he asked, biting into the rice cake and savoring the sweet red bean jam inside.

She picked up a rice cake, offering it to her attendant first. “Until my father’s business deals are finished.”

“Does it usually take a long time?”

“No, not usually,” Ehri said as she began pouring herself more tea, “but because it’s Goryeo, he tends to make time to stay and enjoy the scenery. I’m sure we will be here a month or so, at the very least.”

“I see.” Hoseok slapped his hands on the table and leaned forward, causing the two women to jump suddenly. “Then we should see each other again!”

“W-What?” Erhi balked, leaning backward as he continued to press his body almost completely across the table. “What do you mean?”

“It's not often you get to come to Goryeo, yes?” Hoseok watched her nod slowly, waiting for him to continue. “Then allow me to show you all the great things this country has to offer! In exchange, you have to share all the wonderful stories of your homeland.”

She seemed skeptical. “Just stories?”

Hoseok nodded excitedly. “Yes, until I am able to travel to Mongolia myself and then you’ll have to take care of me while I’m there.” He extended his hand out to her. “Do we have a deal?”

Ehri appeared to be considering his offer. There was nothing for her to lose. She only had things to gain and he, too, would obtain something as well.

Maybe he would be able to have a friend who didn’t care about his connection to the royal family.

Sighing, she reached across the table to clasp her hand in his. Ehri smiled and Hoseok felt his heart skip a full beat in his chest. “Deal.”

The days bled into weeks. Before Ehri even realized it, nearly a month had passed. With each passing day, Hoseok was true to his word. They agreed to meet near the edge of the capital city where the rolling hills, forests, and meadows were located. Her attendant rode beside them and they let their horses graze in the fields. 

Hoseok shared wondrous stories of Goryeo’s history, art, and architecture. Being a Mongol, all Ehri knew were wide open plains, valleys, mountains, rivers and deserts. There were very few forests in her homeland and the flowers were even fewer, so these stories fascinated her. Hoseok had an attendant, just as Ehri, but he rarely accompanied him as often as hers did. If he were part of some aristocratic family, she couldn’t imagine him being able to wander about without an escort at all times.

But maybe she was reading too much into it.

In time, she truly got to know the man named Hoseok. Neither of them revealed their family names, which was probably for the best. There was no guarantee that they would see each other after her family returned home to Mongolia. But the few things she did discover were like small treasures she kept to herself.

His favorite colors were silver, white and cobalt. From what she was able to glean, it had something to do with being able to gain a sense of individualism among his other brothers in their household. He rarely wore his hair down, preferring to have it pulled up in a high ponytail, though he could do nothing with the fringe that often fell across his forehead.

Hoseok had a seemingly bottomless sweet tooth; his preference for rice cakes filled with some kind of sweet jam. He loved foreign goods and would always take time to see any traveling street performances during festival times. Poetry and philosophy were his preferred subjects, but he did excel in mathematics and history. 

Her attendant started to doze off as she sat under the shade of a nearby dogwood tree. The white petals fluttered through the air from the soft breeze that flew through the field. A quiet melody emanated from Hoseok’s lute as he strummed his fingers over the strings. Ehri was nestled in a bed of flowers, her legs curled up to her chest as she listened to the music. She couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips while watching him. His eyes were closed and every so often, some of his dark hair would fly over the bridge of his nose as he played.

To Ehri, he was unnecessarily handsome.

“Are you tired, Agassi?”

Blinking rapidly, Ehri lifted her head up from her knees. When she did, she saw that Hoseok was extremely close to her. Her lips parted and she leaned back quickly, gasping a little as he blinked curiously at her. 

“W-What?” she stammered out, feeling the heat rushing up her neck and spreading over her cheeks. “What’s the matter?”

He was crouched down on the ground, his elbows resting on his knees. But he didn’t move any closer to her, to which she was secretly grateful. “I was asking if you were tired.”

“Oh,” Ehri murmured, brushing some of her hair out of her face, “I’m fine.”

She leaned her head back as he stood up and dusted off the backs of his robes. Once finished, he reached a hand out to her. Not wanting to appear frail, Ehri gathered herself up and also knocked some grass and leaves off her clothes. Hoseok smiled as he gestured for her to follow him. Glancing to where her attendant was now fully asleep with the horses nearby, she shook her head and followed behind Hoseok as they moved deeper into the forest. 

When they entered a nearby clearing, Ehri paused while Hoseok continued to walk ahead of her. The vision that was in front of her caused her to pull a slow intake of breath. The field was littered with spindly, vibrant red flowers that seemed to stretch for as far as the eye could see. There was a sense of melancholy that nearly overwhelmed Ehri as she stared at the flowers, but she couldn’t understand why she felt that way.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the Spider Lily?”

Hoseok’s words cut through her reverie and she lifted her gaze to meet his own. He was standing in the middle of the flowers, imploring for her to come closer. Ehri took slow, measured steps toward him, unable to take her eyes away from the flowers as she approached. When she was within arms’ reach of him, her attention was ripped from the red field as she felt Hoseok’s hands gripping onto her wrists. With a jerk of his arms, she was pulled forward and nearly bumped into his body, to which she was stopped short; his hands now gripping her shoulders.

“N-Naeuri?” 

“The Spider Lily legend,” he repeated slowly, tilting his chin down to look at her, “have you heard of it?”

Ehri wasn’t sure what to say so all she did was shake her head. Even though Hoseok smiled, there was an intensity in his eyes that pulled at her curiosity. So focused on his face, she failed to realize that his hands moved from her shoulders and down to her hips. Again, she chose to wear her incognito robes, which meant that every touch was that much closer to her body than it would have been had she decided to don her proper feminine attire. 

Straining her ears, Ehri waited for him to continue and hoped she could hear him over the heavy thud of her own heartbeat. 

After looking down at her for what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time, Hoseok craned his neck to look at their surroundings. Ehri did the same. 

“There was once a pair of fae, Manju and Saka, who were given the responsibility of guarding the leaves and petals of the Spider Lily. If the petals blossomed to their fullest, the leaves would die. If the leaves flourished, the petals would wilt. For a time, they were diligent in their duties.” Something flickered in Hoseok’s eyes, but she couldn’t quite tell since she could only see part of his profile. “The affection they had for one another continued to grow, until they could no longer deny their feelings for each other. They decided to meet, forsaking their duties, and both the petals and leaves began to die. The Gods punished the lovers by placing a curse on them, stating that the flowers and leaves will never be able to meet again.”

Ehri lowered her gaze to the red blossoms, wanting to reach out and caress the petals but knowing that the leaves deserved attention as well. Upon closer inspection, she could see the leaves were so far below the flowers, melding with the grass at their feet and almost disappearing. The stem was long, keeping the petals and leaves as far apart from each other as was possible for the flower.

“To make matters worse, the curse extends beyond death.”

She turned to face Hoseok who was now looking back at her. “What do you mean?”

He furrowed his brows slightly. “The two of them promised they would reunite in the Underworld so when they were reborn, they would be able to find each other again. But they were never able to meet and, as such, they were unable to be together upon reincarnation.”

Something painful throbbed inside of Ehri’s chest, causing her to curl her hand into a fist against the fabric of her robes. “That’s...that’s so sad.”

“It is.” When Ehri met Hoseok’s gaze, she could see a hint of a smile on his face. “Well, if you believe in the concept of rebirth.”

“I do.” She sighed, moving her upper body away from him a bit. “I don’t believe that the gods are so cruel to give us a short amount of time to live only to allow us to experience one life. The souls of our ancestors live within us.”

For a moment, all Ehri could do was stare up at Hoseok with what she hoped was a look of absolute determination. He didn’t give anything away. Not a single thing.

Which was what made the kiss he pulled her into all the more surprising. Her hands immediately moved to press against his chest, intent on pushing him away; at least at first. But the warmth of his hands as he clasped at the nape of her neck and how hard his heart seemed to be beating against his chest, made her own initial anxieties melt away. He was nothing but a complete gentleman all that time, and in truth, it tugged at the softer side of her normally wild nature. The more Ehri got to know him, a being so full of buried melancholy, the more drawn to him she felt.

When had it happened? When did she feel her heart starting to gravitate toward him?

When had he?

Delicate nips pulled at her lips, causing Ehri to release a soft sigh from her lungs. It was like Hoseok was attempting to pull her soul straight from her and, if it were possible, she would have given it over willingly. Her body shifted a little more against him and she wasn’t sure how much more of his affections she could handle. 

It became more apparent when tears unknowingly leaked from her eyes.

Hoseok’s lips left her own and a part of Ehri mourned for his absence. She didn’t realize the moment she’d pressed herself fully against him, but it made it that much harder to breathe. Or was it because he’d successfully pulled all the air from her lungs, leaving her breathless and yearning for more?

“Do you have to go?” The strain in his voice was clear, needling into her heart as he began drying her tears from her face. “I don’t want you to go.”

Ehri bit her lower lip, unable to break his gaze. “I have to,” she whispered, “my family…”

Suddenly, Hoseok pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her as he cradled the back of her head in a passionate embrace. Clouds slowly rolled in, covering the sun and momentarily shrouding them in desaturated light. Ehri felt his body trembling against her, which made her heart thud harder against her chest to the point that it hurt to breathe. 

“Promise you’ll write to me,” he said into her temple.

Reaching up, she curled her fingers into fists along his back, nodding her head emphatically. “I will.”

Hoseok held her tighter, causing her to sob slightly. “Promise you won’t forget me.”

Again, she nodded, unable to keep the tears from spilling. “I won’t.”

Slowly, he pulled back and captured her lips again. Ehri could feel her heart sing with the emotion that pushed from each of them. He held her like she was the greatest treasure he’d discovered. But they both knew that they would have to part. It would only be for a little while. Their worlds weren’t so far apart. They could see each other again.

That was their hope.

That was their dream.

“Hoseok-ah! What are you doing?”

He ignored the question tinged with outrage as he continued to pack his belongings. He took care to make sure one parcel, in particular, was stowed away where it could not be damaged. He didn’t need much. Whatever he did need, he could simply purchase along the way. 

His attendant stood quietly in the corner of his room, his own gear packed and slung across his shoulder. Hoseok knew he wouldn’t speak up. It wasn’t his place. He’d already been given his commands to accompany him and that was that.

“I asked you what you are doing, dammit!” He felt his brother, Yoongi, grip onto his shoulder and forcefully spin him around. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“Mongolia.” He roughly shrugged Yoongi’s hand from him. “Could you please leave? I’m trying to finish packing.”

Yoongi jerked him around and slapped him across the face. The sting of the blow inflamed instantly and he didn’t even bother with covering his cheek with his palm to soothe the ache. Red veins spidered out toward Yoongi’s irises. That’s how Hoseok knew that his brother was angry with him for being so selfish. It was rare for him to be this selfish, but that meant it was more important for him to leave now more than ever. 

“Do you want to get yourself killed, huh?” Yoongi heaved an aggravated sound as he roughly tugged at some of his hair. “Our countries are about to go to war soon!”

“You think I don’t know that, Hyung-nim?! I do!” Hoseok’s vision shook as he tried to tether his anger. He knew he was failing. “I know that, which is why I have to go! Let me go, Hyung-nim!”

His brother’s face went red, then faded to a splotchy sort of peach color. Hoseok knew he’d successfully defused Yoongi’s anger, but it was far from over. If their parents found out, or even the rest of his brothers, Hoseok could guarantee that there would be no escape for him. He would be placed  under house arrest faster than his mind could even begin to process. 

Even so, he had to go. 

He had to find her. He needed to see her again.

The door to his room slid open slowly, revealing his oldest brother, Seokjin, on the other side. Dressed in his crimson and silver robes, he stepped across the threshold and slid the door quietly behind him. His hands were hidden inside the sleeves of his robe, but then he revealed a scroll from within. He held it out to Hoseok as Yoongi approached their older brother.

“Hyung-nim,” Yoongi said while eyeing the scroll, “what is the meaning of this?”

“It’s an official edict from His Majesty on our father’s behalf. Father has taken ill and will not be able to conduct his business trip.” Seokjin craned his neck to look at Hoseok. “This will allow you safe passage across the border.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “S-Seokjin Hyung-nim…”

A tender smile graced Seokjin’s full lips. “Father is aware of why you are so adamant on leaving. As are we all.” He lobbed the scroll to his younger brother. Hoseok’s hands trembled as he held the silk scroll in his hands. “We only ask that you return safely.”

Yoongi groaned as he tugged his hair harshly. Grumbling something under his breath, he strode past his brother and slid open the door. “I’ll get the others.”

By others, he meant the rest of their brothers.

“Why?” Hoseok’s eyes lingered on the parchment. “Why is Father allowing this?”

“Contrary to what we all may think, Father understands what it means to be in love.” Seokjin closed the distance between them, placing a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder. “He cares for our happiness more than anyone. Mother also agrees.”

Sucking in air through his teeth, Hoseok shut his eyes in a vain attempt to keep from shedding tears. Months had passed since Ehri left to return home, and the tensions between Goryeo and Mongolia seemed to escalate. There was talk of war in the coming months, if not sooner. While Ehri and Hoseok wrote to each other diligently in that time, it was clear that there was nothing they would be able to do once the conflict officially broke out. There was a good chance that this war would separate them permanently.

He wanted to see her before then. No, he had to.

“If you can convince her to come back with you, then you will be married immediately upon your return.” 

He quickly lifted his face to meet Seokjin’s. “W-What?”

His brother’s gentle smile remained. “Mother and Father have both agreed to this.”

Unable to contain his elation, Hoseok threw himself into Seokjin’s arms. He took comfort in his older brother’s embrace. He felt Seokjin laugh as he patted Hoseok on the head like they were still children and he’d skinned his hands on the stone ground. 

“Be safe, Little Brother.”

Ehri quickly began gathering what few things she could. Mostly practical things, but there were some odds and ends that she collected that would be needed to procure money for her travels. There was no barring her parents from her quarters, but she could at least keep her sisters out of the way as she hurried along. Her attendant was at her wit’s end keeping watch to make sure that no one attempted to stop Ehri from what she was doing. 

Pain exploded across Ehri’s chest and she immediately collapsed to her knees, clutching at her chest as another coughing fit burst forth. She did her best to smother the noise, but it was useless. Her attendant was at her side instantly, handing her a cup of water to drink. She could barely get a few sips in before watery mist sprayed from her mouth due to another coughing outburst. Ehri’s breathing was unsteady, but she tried to pull as much air into her lungs as she could in an attempt to suppress the cough.

“My Lady,” called her attendant as she slowly rubbed circles along her back, “please, you must rest. The physician said so himself.”

Angry tears leaked from her eyes and she swiped them from her face quickly. “There’s no time,” she muttered, “we must leave tonight.”

“Please, My Lady, this is madness.” Her attendant was all but begging, but Ehri was stubborn. “There is no need for such haste. Did Lord Hoseok not say that he would be arriving tomorrow morning? Why must we leave in the middle of the night?”

“Don’t be so foolish!” Ehri snapped, glaring at her faithful attendant. “Do you still not understand the gravity of the situation?”

But she couldn’t expect her to. It was outside of her attendant’s control and her duties. No. This was Ehri’s fight. She had to do it. Because her parents were determined to keep her from the man she so desperately longed for. She’d missed him for him for days - no, for months. And it felt like years mounting between them the longer they were apart. Hoseok said he was coming for her and she had to believe him. She did believe him.

The animosity between their nations be damned. What did that have to do with any of their feelings for each other? Her family told her that Hoseok was the enemy because he was from a soon-to-be enemy nation. But she could never see him as the enemy. Ehri never would. While some would have accused her of lacking filial piety, she also believed that she was living up to the expectations from which she was raised. Give and take. That was how the merchant world operated. There was no such thing as a free meal.

If Fate was going to shorten her time on this earth, then she had every right to obtain happiness to make up for it.

Her attendant sighed heavily, pulling out a thick fur throw and settling it on top of Ehri’s shoulders. A few more coughs escaped, but she appreciated the warmth. The colder season was beginning to settle in and it would only be a matter of time before it was fully upon them.

“Does Lord Hoseok know of your condition, My Lady?”

Ehri shook her head fiercely. “No.” She pointed at her attendant. “And I forbid you from revealing it to him as well.” Ehri sighed, placing a hand to her chest. “It will only cause him to worry.”

Gathering herself up, Ehri reached out for her satchel but her attendant beat her to it. “You’ll have a difficult time carrying that and maintaining your breath. Let me carry this for you, My Lady.” She watched her attendant flash a warm smile to her. “Until we are able to get on the horses at least.”

Ehri gave her a devious smirk. “Very well.”

Hoseok awoke to the first frost of the season already collecting on the grass around the tent. It didn’t take him long to bathe and get dressed, foregoing a proper breakfast. Instead, he nibbled on some cured meat and bread, washing it down with water. His caravan dismantled their camp within minutes and they resumed their journey, having crossed into Mongol territory through the checkpoint yesterday evening. His father’s edict had, in fact, made things easier. But he was worried when the messenger pigeon he’d sent ahead for Ehri had not yet returned.

Did something happen?

No, he thought while shaking his head, I can’t think like that. I’m sure she still has the bird with her. Hoseok felt his chest swelling with the large intake of air he pulled, unable to shake the smile from his face. I will be seeing her soon.

The caravan moved at an even pace. He was so excited to see his beloved. He could still remember what her face looked like when she smiled; like the darkest nights could never hope to douse her radiance. It seemed a little unfair, truth be told, that she could be so captivating. But Hoseok considered himself blessed to know that he could love someone like her; that she loved him in return.

As his horse trotted along, Hoseok reached into his bag and pulled out the refurbished lacquered box. His hand smoothed over the mother of pearl decorations and he lifted the clasp up to open the box. Inside was the beautifully forged spider lily he purchased at what felt like a lifetime ago. He hadn’t known it then, but this was going to be his wedding present to Ehri. But he didn’t want to wait until the wedding. He wanted to be able to give it to her as soon as he saw her. 

A cold wind suddenly blew through the troupe, causing his skin to pepper out in goosebumps. He replaced the box back into his bag, securing the knot on the silken scarf to keep it from falling out. The rest of the group murmured their sentiments in that it was, in fact, cold. Hoseok quickly instructed everyone to put on warmer clothes so that they didn’t get sick. They all complied without hesitation. 

“Naeuri!”

Hoseok turned in the direction where the voice came from. Confusion melted to joy as he saw Ehri urging her horse forward with thunderous gallops, her faithful attendant barely able to keep up. Pulling at the reigns, Hoseok broke away from the caravan and pushed his own mount into a speedy gallop so that he could meet her halfway. As she came into view, Hoseok noticed her cheeks were a bit flushed and he could see the cloudy puffs of air coming from both her and her horse. His smile fell a fraction as he saw her clutching at her chest. 

Was something wrong?

Closer and closer they reached each other, until he saw Ehri standing up from her saddle. Her attendant screamed as both she and Hoseok watched Ehri jump from her horse and into the air. Leaning back, he stared open-mouthed as she flew toward him. A rough grunt was all he could manage as she landed in his arms and his horse protested in annoyance at the sudden added weight. Both of them toppled off the steed in a flurry of legs and arms. Hoseok maneuvered his body so that he was the one to hit the ground first. Again, the wind was knocked from his lungs as Ehri fell on top of him.

For a moment, all they could do was laugh painfully together.

“You know,” Ehri breathed as she sat up to look down at him, her face flushed and full with a smile, “we should really and truly stop meeting like this, don’t you agree?”

He beamed up at her. “Yes, I most certainly do.”

Again, they laughed. Hoseok’s heart was so full he thought it would burst. But the happiness was doused the moment Ehri began coughing. It was a harsh sound, as though she were struggling to breathe. It was cold out and maybe she’d gotten a little too excited. His hand moved up to touch her forehead and he gasped at her burning temperature. 

“Agassi!” he cried out, moving so that he was now sitting up and cradling her to his chest. “What happened? You have a terrible fever!”

Her attendant was at her side, looking flustered and on the verge of tears. “My Lady refuses to listen, that’s what.”

Quickly, she retrieved a folded up piece of paper from her garments and held it to Ehri’s lips. From what Hoseok could gather from the smell, it was some sort of medicine. The powder slid into Ehri’s mouth and she watched her cover her mouth to prevent from coughing it out on impulse. Her attendant pulled out a small canteen and held it to her lips, washing the powder down with water.

Hoseok turned his attention to Ehri’s attendant. “What is going on? I demand an answer!”

Ehri slapped her attendant the moment she opened her mouth to speak. The blow shocked the girl more than it hurt. This must have been the first time she’d ever been struck by Ehri in the entire time they’d been together. It was evident in both of their expressions. The attendant bit her lower lip as tears brimmed her eyes, but she eventually averted her gaze and remained quiet at their sides. 

“Ehri Agassi,” he murmured as she shifted her eyes to look up at him, “why did you--?”

“It’s just a minor affliction,” she said, her voice weak from coughing, “it will pass in time.”

His brows furrowed, but he nodded. Hoseok stood up, hefting Ehri into his arms. Her attendant followed suit as some members of his caravan collected their horses. There was a carriage in their group, to which he was now thankful for. His brothers, Namjoon and Jimin, insisted that he take it with him, regardless of how many times he explained to them that Ehri was a seasoned rider. He could remember the playful expressions on their faces as they explained that she was his bride-to-be and their future in-law. There was no sense in her not to indulge in comfort with this bitter weather coming in.

Hoseok settled her into the carriage, immediately wrapping her up with thick blankets and furs. If it was just a fever, then all she would need to do was sweat it out. She would be back to her old self in no time. Hell, before they returned to Goryeo. 

He was sure of it.

Hours seemed like days. Days moved like weeks.

Ehri felt herself falling in and out of consciousness so many times due to her fever. There were moments where she felt the world blurring around her. Other times, it appeared so clear, sharp and bright; so much so that she had to often squint to see. She hated being cramped in the carriage, but Ehri knew her body well enough to not push for wanting to ride like everyone else did. If she tried, she was almost certain that her condition would worsen.

It would be another week before they reached Goryeo.

I just have to hold on until then, she thought, the last dregs of sleep lifting from her eyes, just a little longer.

Part of Ehri felt terrible for keeping such a big secret from Hoseok. But revealing the truth would only hurt him. He would find a way to blame himself and she didn’t want that. It was simply the tiles that Life felt fit to deal to her. Before leaving her home, Ehri prayed to her ancestors and burned a small offering to the gods. She didn’t ask for much. Only a little more time than what was allotted to her.

She wouldn’t be greedy.

Two days later, she felt a little better. Ehri slid open the small window of the carriage so she could peer out at the world around them. The rolling hills and valleys of her home almost seemed to be bidding her farewell as the leaves browned and fell from the smattering of trees that existed. The hazy clouds sat along the mountain peaks, promising the onset of snow to come. The grass along the plains, once lush and green, were now beige. She would not see them return to their true green hues.

She took her medicine obediently and when they made camp, she apologized to her attendant for striking her. Her friend cried while holding her hands as Ehri lay in bed, too weak to laugh at how terrible her attendant’s face looked from all the crying she’d subjected herself to. After a refreshing bath and warm meal, she felt a little bit better. Hoseok periodically checked on her and was a gentleman in giving her her space. When she had the energy, he took her by the hand and led her throughout the camp to introduce her to the others. They were friends and loyal servants to Hoseok and his family. 

Ehri received warm greetings and welcomes, filling her heart with happiness she couldn’t begin to describe. These weren’t her people. They were Goryeons and lived a life far apart from her own. She should have been seen as the enemy in their eyes. They had every right to hate her for the potential cause of their country’s upheaval from her own people. But there was nothing of the sort in their eyes or their mannerisms toward her. 

Their vibrant laughter, rich stories, and warm smiles were a comfort to her. As she sat curled up by the campfire with the others, they all were entranced with Hoseok’s lute playing. He eased their worries for what would happen to their nation through his songs of encouragement, rekindling what hope may have burned out inside of each of them. As they often said, it was always darkest before dawn.

This, too, would pass.

The warmth of the fire, the lute’s melody, and her own fever lulled her to sleep. When she came to, she was back in her tent and wrapped in a number of blankets. A cold, damp cloth was pressed to her forehead. Ehri blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from her vision and she saw Hoseok keeping vigil at her side. Their eyes met and the worry creases on his brows started to disappear. He tried to smile, but she knew he was having a hard time.

“I’m sorry, Hoseok Naeuri,” she murmured as she watched him preparing her medicine, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

He shook his head. “No, you need to rest. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Especially with it getting colder.” Hoseok used a clean, dry cloth to wipe at the sweat around her cheeks and neck. 

Ehri tried to suppress a cough, but failed to keep a few of them from coming out. “How long until we reach Goryeo.”

“We’ll dismantle camp tomorrow and ride out at first light. If we keep a steady pace, we’ll arrive in a few days.” Removing the cloth from her forehead, he dipped it into a brass basin and wrung the water out. “And then we can get a proper physician to look at you.”

She pouted. “I’m fine,” she insisted, “I don’t get sick often so this is just how my body is reacting to it.”

“Even so, I want to be sure.” Hoseok placed the cloth back on her forehead. “Besides, in Goryeo we’ll have better access to medicine than the peddlers we’ve encountered on the journey.” He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Now sleep.”

Nodding, she sighed and was about to close her eyes when she noticed a box on the table. Ehri blinked, rubbed at her eyes, and then looked again to make sure she wasn’t seeing anything. There wasn’t such a decorative box on her table when she’d left the tent earlier. Hoseok seemed to gauge that she was looking elsewhere, following her line of sight. He gave a gentle laugh.

“Oh, that?” He stood from the small stool situated at her bedside and retrieved the box from the table. After he sat back down, he opened it and showed her the metallic spider lily inside. “Do you like it?”

Her lips parted, but she lacked the proper words to describe its beauty. Instead, she nodded.

“I’m glad.” He closed the box. “It was supposed to be your wedding present, but I figured this would help lift your spirits some.”

Ehri sighed a little, her brows furrowing. “But didn’t you say that the legend of the Spider Lily is a sad story?” She pouted again. “Why would you give me such a thing as a wedding present?”

Hoseok seemed to take amusement in her childish questioning and reached out to pet her head. “I bought this from an artisan who claimed that this flower is different from the actual spider lily.”

She was curious. “Different how?”

Again, Hoseok opened the box to show her the lovely flower. “He said that anyone who possesses this flower is guaranteed to be reunited with their love in the next life. It will not come to pass like in the tale of Manju and Saka.”

“How can he guarantee that?”

“I asked the same thing,” Hoseok said while laughing. He closed the box. “But we will just have to see when we are reborn again, hm?” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “I want to love you again in our next life, Ehri-ah.”

The informal way of speaking to her caused her cheeks to flush. There was so much love in his words that she couldn’t help but feel the urge to cry. She didn’t know just how much time she had left to love this man, and it was even more cruel to keep that knowledge from him. But she wanted to prevent him from suffering needlessly. There was no sense in imparting such pain to him and so she would keep it bottled up inside of herself for as long as she could.

Until life saw it fit to escort her to the Underworld.

Ehri’s condition worsened as the days bled on. 

Hoseok did his best to keep himself calm, but there was a horrifying truth that he couldn’t shake from his mind, even though he desperately wanted to. He spied her attendant leaving Ehri’s tent on the night before they would arrive in Goryeo all but bawling her eyes out. He made sure to keep himself hidden and while there was a part of him that wanted to force her to tell him what was going on, he also wanted to respect Ehri’s wishes. 

Maybe he was thinking too much. Once they arrived in Goryeo, he would seek his father’s help in obtaining the best physicians to see to her care. They had skilled doctors in their country who were advancing their medical studies day after day.

Surely someone would have the remedy to heal Ehri’s ailment.

Hoseok wanted to ride in the carriage with Ehri until they were in Goryeo, but she insisted that she be alone. She didn’t want to bother him with all of her coughing and wheezing which, in turn, would only make him worry further. She wasn’t wrong, but the notion didn’t make him happy. Her attendant rode with her in the carriage, making sure she was hydrated and taking her medicine in a timely fashion.

After they crossed the border and cleared the checkpoint, Hoseok informed the others that he would ride ahead to his family’s estate. He needed to make sure everything was prepared for Ehri’s arrival and that doctors were already there to administer to her medically.

He practically burst through the main gate of his family’s estate, sliding off his horse and running for the main house. Slinging the door open roughly, he thundered through the halls - having not bothered to take off his shoes. 

“Father! Mother!” he yelled, opening every door he could see to determine the whereabouts of his family. 

Laughter was heard out in the garden and he ran through one of the side entrances to get there as quickly as possible. When he arrived at the gardens, looking quite haggard, his brothers stopped their archery competition as their parents peered up at him from their chairs. His youngest brother, Jungkook, dropped his bow and quiver, immediately racing to his side.

“Hyung-nim, what’s the matter?” he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

His other younger brothers, Jimin and Taehyung, were also making their way toward him. 

“You look like the Grim Reapers have been chasing you,” teased Taehyung as he peered over Hoseok’s shoulders, “in that much of a rush to introduce us to your bride-to-be?”

Hoseok ignored his little brother, his eyes meeting both of his older brother’s and his twin, Namjoon. They instantly could ascertain the desperation in his eyes. 

“What is it, Hoseok-ah?” their father asked, rising from his chair and crossing over to him. “Is everything alright?”

Reaching out with his hands, he clung shamelessly onto the sleeves of his father’s robes. “Father, please! Call a doctor, the best doctor we can afford and get our hands on!” His father frowned and Hoseok wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself together. “It’s Ehri! She’s sick and needs a physician immediately!”

Nodding, his father pointed to one of the servants to go fetch a physician from town immediately. After the servant left, Hoseok’s legs gave way beneath him and he collapsed to the ground. His mother and brothers were all at his side, lifting him back up onto his feet and ushering him to his room. He hadn’t realized how tired he was and while the adrenaline continued to pump through him, they urged him to close his eyes for just a little bit, all of them promising to wake him up the moment the caravan returned.

The fatigue and stress of the journey mixed together with Hoseok’s anxiety over Ehri. As he fell into his bed, he couldn’t fight against the urge of sleep overtaking him. Within seconds, the world faded out around him.

Hoseok’s family was delightful.

Even as she was placed in her own quarters and fussed over by doctors, they treated her like she was already a member of the family. Jungkook painted wonderful pictures of flowers and landscapes that he promised to have properly framed into a folding screen for her room. Taehyung told fascinating stories of adventurers going off to slay dragons. Jimin brewed some of the best tea she’d ever tasted in her life. The younger brothers all listened with rapt attention to the folk legends of her own homeland, particularly of warriors who fought valiantly against the gods to protect their people and ensure their power of choice and freewill was not taken from them.

Namjoon was quiet, often reading philosophical texts and poems from his and Hoseok’s collections. They were twin brothers and while they looked nothing alike, she could tell they both had similarly soft and intellectual natures. He was a bit more clumsy than Hoseok, as well as the rest of his brothers, but he more than made up for it with his charm and wit.

Yoongi, the second older brother, always seemed to sport a dour expression. At first, she believed that he didn’t like her for reasons she couldn’t quite understand. He clearly had no issue with her being a Mongol, but there was something barbarous in his words every time he spoke with her. It wasn’t until a few days after her arrival that it became clear that that was simply how he showed his affection to others. If he was worried, he fussed. If he was happy, he called someone foolish for being kind. If Hoseok wasn’t attending to her needs, Yoongi was always there to change out the damp cloths and wipe the sweat from her skin.

Seokjin was charming and kind, always gentle and sneaking in delicious sweets and snacks for her when she felt a little better. He kept a stern vigil on physicians who were overseeing her care in Hoseok’s absence. Truth be told, it was often Seokjin who chased her beloved Hoseok away since seeing her in that state only frayed his nerves even more.

Especially when the truth of her illness was finally revealed.

Many doctors examined her. They all came to the same conclusion. 

It was a disease of the lungs, one that they could not cure. While the physicians in her own country told her the same thing, part of Ehri hoped that Goryeo would have the answer where Mongolia did not. There was always the chance and it was that chance that Ehri clung on to so desperately. 

But like she expected, there was nothing they could do.

The only thing that could be done for her was to make her as comfortable as possible until the very end. Hoseok was a mess, raging at the doctors and threatening to have them killed for their laziness. But they were doing the best they could. Ehri could see that and so she knew Hoseok could see that as well. There was nothing that could be done. Only a miracle could pull Ehri out of this infestation attacking her lungs and she wasn’t a big believer of such things.

When she was well enough to move around, Ehri and Hoseok were married. It was a modest affair in his family home. Her only regret was that her own family couldn’t be part of the festivities. After a night of celebration, Ehri and Hoseok turned in for the night and slept. It was all she could manage since she lacked the strength in her body to give up her innocence, her first night, to her husband. But Hoseok was understanding and kind, merely holding her close to his body as she attempted to fight off a night of fitful, fever-induced dreams.

Like their nations’ leaders predicted, war began to spread throughout Goryeo and Mongolia. The conflict bled across borders and into each country, both nations hoping that the other would give up their stance on their respective worlds and surrender. Neither country would surrender to the other and the commoners, the people, were caught in the crossfire. Her family wrote to her, imploring her to come home but she couldn’t bring herself to even reassure them that she was fine. What energy she had, she spent it writing and it wasn’t to her family.

She was a person of Goryeo now.

Ehri felt it harder to maintain her energy with each passing day. When she finally started coughing up blood was when she knew her time in the world was drawing to a close. Her attendant was present at the time, spying the blood stain on her lips and the silk handkerchief. Ehri made her swear not to tell anyone, making sure her friend cleaned her face of the tears before going to fetch her tonic. 

Winter was not kind to Ehri’s lungs and she wasn’t allowed to see the snow falling outside. This saddened her far more than she expected since the snow reminded her of home. But Ehri also knew that the minute she inhaled the cold, it would spread like needles into her lungs. Regardless of the inevitable, she still had to take care of herself.

As she diligently took her medicine and rested, Ehri could smell the air changing from inside the estate. Spring would soon be upon them. She would be able to see the flowers blooming again. The pollen would, no doubt, be terrible for her lungs. But she didn’t care. She was denied her snow, the least she could do was indulge in the rebirth of the land.

Ehri exited her room as quietly as possible, leaving her attendant asleep at the table while she was sewing. She would get an earful later, but it would be worth it to see the lovely dogwood and cherry trees in full bloom in the courtyard. She wrapped an extra layer of clothing around her body to keep the cold at bay, stumbling out onto the back verandah.

Her lips parted in awe at the blossoms swaying back and forth on their branches. The delicate pink and white petals flew and danced in the air as they broke free from their constraints. The sky was a pastel blue and there were no clouds to be seen. The sight caused tears to form in Ehri’s eyes and she quickly covered her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered to herself. 

“Pu-in,” called Hoseok, startling her. She noted the serious look on his face and immediately lowered her head in shame. She’d been caught in the act. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’ve slept enough.” Reaching out to grasp his arm, she looped her own through his. “I wanted to enjoy the day with you, Seobang-nim.” 

Ehri giggled and she noted the slight tint of pink on Hoseok’s cheeks. They’d been officially husband and wife for several months and he still seemed so shy about it. Which was fine with her. It made it so much easier to tease him.

Clearing his throat loudly, he turned his face away from her to hide his shyness. “Yes, well...you should have had your attendant come fetch me then.”

She leaned in closer, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “It’s more fun this way.”

Hoseok sighed in defeat, carefully ushering her down the steps from the verandah and into the courtyard. Ehri knew he could never stay upset with her for very long. While she tried not to have her way all the time, she was still stubborn about certain things. Refusing to be bed-ridden was one of those instances, regardless of how tired her body felt and how much it protested against her.

They crossed the courtyard, making their way toward the large dogwood tree. From there, he fanned out the tail end of his robe so that Ehri could sit on it and not get her clothes dirty. She laughed gently, feeling another flush rush up her neck and spread over her cheeks. Truly, she was the luckiest woman alive to have such a caring husband who loved and spoiled her. 

Settling herself comfortably, Ehri laid her head on Hoseok’s shoulder. He shifted a little, wrapping one arm around her and pulling her close. Gasping, she couldn’t help the shy smile that flitted over her face. When she took a breath, she could smell his scent that was so unique to him; like the forest after a rainstorm. It mixed in with all the different fragrances of Spring that seemed to dance around them. Taking her hand in his, he laced his fingers through hers and they sat quietly together as a soft breeze tickled along Ehri’s skin.

“Seobang-nim?”

Hoseok hummed. “Yes, what is it, Pu-in?”

She smiled, closing her eyes. “Thank you.”

She felt him shift and she knew, even without looking at him, that Hoseok was looking at her. “For what?”

“Everything.” Ehri gripped his fingers a little tighter around his. “Thank you for everything.”

Hoseok moved, causing Ehri to lift her head up so she had to look at him. While one hand held hers, his other rested along her neck. “Pu-in…”

“I love you,” she whispered to him, leaning forward to press her lips against his.

Nothing else needed to be said. All of the beautiful moments she’d come to cherish weren’t meaningless. They were precious memories she would carry with her into the afterlife. She would never let them go. And when she was reborn, Ehri simply had one wish and she hoped that the gods would be kind enough to grant it. 

If I’m reborn, please let me love this man again. Let me love him longer in my next life. Please…

And in the darkness, Ehri felt the world fall to a raw tilt. It was like the earth opened up beneath her and began swallowing her whole. Her body felt heavy, weighted down by gravity. But she smiled against Hoseok’s lips. It was dark but she could still see his face, clear as if she were looking at him. She memorized all of his features in that moment, clinging onto them and engraving them into her heart. No, her soul.

Soon, her heartbeat stilled. All that was left was silence.

Hoseok watched as the flames devoured the elegant pine box Ehri was placed in. The funeral pyre was adorned with various flowers that his mother and sister-in-laws arranged themselves. Ehri’s family was allowed to cross the border so they could be present for her funeral services. Voices cried out as the fire grew in volume, the smoke billowing up to stain the skies in a black fog. Resting on top of the box was the metallic spider lily he’d given Ehri as a wedding present. He wasn’t sure if it was through the waves of heat or his own tears, but the flower almost seemed to take on an ethereal glow. 

No, his eyes were surely playing tricks on him.

Spring had barely begun. It was a time of rebirth and renewal. It was supposed to be a time of healing. 

Instead, something precious had been taken from him. Hoseok wasn’t sure how to even begin processing that.

He remained alone in the yard long after Ehri’s pyre extinguished itself. Her ashes were gathered in a ceramic urn and a memorial tablet was carved from the branch of the cherry trees she loved so much. It was stained and polished, inked and then placed in a small cabinet that was designated just for her. Hoseok burned a stick of incense for her every morning and every night. When he wasn’t attending to his duties around the home or tutoring other young students, he was at the temple to offer up prayers and bows almost a thousand times.

He returned home with swollen legs and sore arms every night.

For a time, he begged his family to leave Ehri’s room alone. In time, he would come to move on from her untimely demise. But until then, he wanted to be able to take comfort in her presence even in her absence. When he did enter her chambers, he could see the unfinished needlepoint of the crane by her easel. There were times when she dabbled in watercolors, thanks to Jungkook’s teaching, and she was getting better and better as days went on. 

Before her illness took a turn for the worse.

The room had her smell, albeit a bit faint, but it was still there. Hoseok took what little comfort he could from it. His hand traced over the small vanity where she attempted to apply makeup. Hoseok smiled sadly at the container of rouge that was barely touched because Ehri wasn’t healthy enough to apply the makeup on herself. His fingers curled into the small handle of the vanity’s drawer, pulling it out slowly. Inside was her hairbrush, embossed with vines made of silver and a few pearls. It was a gift from his mother at the behest that she be allowed to attend to Ehri’s hair from time to time. Of course, his beloved wife relented to the request gladly.

Just as he was about to close the drawer, he noticed a folded piece of paper under the hairbrush. Curious, he removed the paper and unfolded it. The handwriting was clearly Ehri’s and this brought a touch of comfort to him. However, as he read the words, Hoseok couldn’t stop his hands from trembling as tears seeped from his eyes.

My Dearest Hoseok,

I pray that you never find this letter. I am merely writing it for my own peace of mind. I am leaving it in a place I hope you never find and that I will have the courage to destroy it before you stumble upon it. But there is a good chance that I will not be well enough to do so. In fact, the fevers that wrack my body will most likely make me forget that I’ve even done this in the first place. But that’s alright.

I know that my time in this world grows short and it pains me to see you agonizing over my condition. I don’t want you to dwell on the past. This was something out of our control and there is nothing we could have done to prevent this. I am so fortunate to have been able to spend these last moments by your side.

Your family, your people, are my family and my people. You looked upon me not as a Mongol, an enemy, but as someone to be loved and cherished. Someone to be brought into the fold and welcomed with open arms. I do not know what the state of the world will be when you come to find this, but I hope things have calmed down. I hope that peace has returned to our people.

Mongolia. I have missed it. I have missed the snowy peaks and the fresh white powder of the landscape. I have always wanted to show you this place. The place where I was “born” - when I was a wild girl indulging in wild adventures long ago. I wish I could have shown you the country before everything fell to turmoil; before this illness threatened to claim me and drag me into the Underworld. I had so many stories I wished to share with you of my homeland.

Though, in truth, I can hardly remember it now. It’s been so long and the fevers make it difficult to focus.

I do not know if you will ever come to Mongolia on your own. But if you do, I hope the stories and traditions will bring you comfort in my absence. When you miss me. I will miss you terribly when I’m gone.

I want you to please know and understand that being with you, loving you, was the greatest gift I could ever receive in this life. Though our time was short, it was filled with wonderful things that I’m sure not many people get to experience. It was a full and lasting love; one that I am so happy to have received from you.

With this, I say farewell to you. I hope you will never read this. I pray you will never see this. But if you do, that is okay. I have made my peace with it and with the life that I was given, short as it was.

My only regret is that I was unable to express my love for you to the fullest degree that I could. I am sorry I could not show you my heart in the way that I wished. I am sorry that I could not love you more. Forgive me for being unable to tell you, Hoseok, how much you mean to me.

I will cherish the memories we have created. I will hold them close to me as I return to the Underworld. Please be well. Please be happy.

Most of all ... please forget me.

I don’t want you to be in pain after I’m gone. Because I believe in the legend of the Spider Lily. I believe in the legend that was forged in that flower you gave me. I believe that we will see each other again.

And I promise you, in our next life, I will love you even more than I did in this one.

Farewell, my Dearest Hoseok. My greatest love.

Until we meet again.

~ Bayaraa Ehri

It was the last thing Ehri left for him; a final parting gift. Clutching the letter to his chest, he heaved silent sobs as his tears fell to the floor. He crashed to his knees, hugging his body as he bent over and continued to wail in silence, his shoulders trembling with the heaviness of his cries. Everything hurt, especially breathing. And when he could no longer keep himself together, he passed out on the floor - clinging to his wife’s letter tightly to his chest.

The rain fell in heavy waves outside. Hoseok sat out on the back verandah, his head resting along the wooden pillar of his home. Spring rain gave birth to new life. Crops would be rejuvenated and grain could be harvested. Animals were being born to give the next generation a chance at survival. Festivals would be on the horizon once the rain stopped. There was always a rainbow on the other side when the sun returned.

He could take no comfort in any of it.

Not a day went by that Hoseok didn’t read the letter his wife left behind. It was the last thing he could hold on to of hers. The last chance at clinging to the memory that was her; the free-spirited woman he came to know and love with every fiber of his being. Could the Fates have been more cruel to have allowed him to stumble across her parting words? Why hadn’t she burned it up or destroyed it herself? What even possessed her to write such a thing, to leave a lasting dagger in his chest?

“You’re so mean, Pu-in.” A sad smile crossed his face as he listened to the rain beat down around him. “I thought you loved me. How could you do something so mean?”

Hoseok rarely ate and hardly slept. When he did, he was unable to keep food down. When he slept, it was full of nightmares of him losing Ehri over and over again; unable to prevent her from being swept away by darkness. He often woke up screaming, covered in sweat, and his brothers were at his side in their own attempts to comfort him. His parents tried to get him to take the medicine the physicians left, but everything tasted like ash in his mouth.

He could barely get three spoonfuls in before promptly vomiting it back up.

It didn’t take long for him to get sick. His grief was an ailment all by itself and his refusal to nourish himself only expedited his illness. While he felt guilty for the anguish he was causing his family, Hoseok couldn’t find a way to heal his broken heart. 

He cried himself to sleep. It was the only way he could.

As the days shifted to weeks, Hoseok’s entire physical appearance changed. Because of his lack of eating and sleeping, he appeared gaunt and sickly. He lost weight and looked like he had one foot in the grave already. What energy he did muster, it was to read Ehri’s last letter.

She told him to be happy. She told him to live. 

Worst of all? She told him to forget her.

How could she be so heartless? Didn’t she understand how much he loved her? How much her existence meant to him? Asking Hoseok to erase her from his mind, his heart, was just too much for him to handle.

Did she say that so they would be guaranteed a chance to meet again in the next life?

If so, then he didn’t want to continue living in this world without her. Wouldn’t it have been better to leave so they could meet quickly? What was time when one was no longer alive to determine its existence? To be able to ascertain the creeping ebb and flow of the passing seasons?

Rolling over onto his side, he clutched the letter in his hands as his tears soaked into his silk pillow. “No,” he whispered, his voice barely recognizable, “I don’t want to be here to see it alone. I don’t want to see it march on without you here with me.”

He shut his eyes, curling his body into a ball as tightly as he could. The rain fell softly outside and he could hear it from his window. It was nature’s last attempt at calming the raging storm in Hoseok’s heart. His final farewell to a world that he no longer wished to be part of.

The world cried with him.

And in that last moment, Hoseok felt what remained of his spirit slowly lifting away. His vision blurred until there was nothing but a pinprick of light. Seconds later, it, too, disappeared. The guilt and regret that weighed on his heart smothered it out, leaving him alone.

The spring rain fell harder in response to Hoseok’s departure, leaving only his shell behind. The two lovers were now gone, their spirits returning to the ether. They were separated now, thanks to a cruel twist of Fate. But the spider lilies would not forget their sorrow. They would remember; their tears forever soaked into their petals and leaves. A promise to be reunited forged in iron and melted in fire once more.

The Heavens would mourn their passing for now.

Until they were able to meet again.

AN: So for those of you curious, I figured I would give you a little breakdown on honorifics used in Classical/Period Korea. Naeuri - A term used for men who were not peasants, servants, or slaves. Agassi - A term used for unmarried women who were not peasants, servants, or slaves. Hyung-nim - A term used by younger brothers in reference to their older brothers. Pu-in - A term used by men when speaking to their wives. Seobang-nim - A term used by women when speaking to their husbands.

[weaver-of-legends]

Loki’s boot-steps rang softly on the smooth, shining red-yellow marble tiles as he and his guards passed into the dimly lit, cool hall before the council chamber, leaving the humid warmth and coming rain behind. It smarted, walking down these halls as a prisoner with no say in if he wanted to turn to the right or verge to the left—it stung, his absolute inability to decide how fast or slow he wished to proceed.

It happened all at once, too quickly, too soon—he had been deep in his thoughts and then suddenly they were upon the doors before the Council Room. He felt fidgety, a war horse sensing the coming battle but unable to flee without knowing if turning away would be safer than risking what lay ahead. He wanted to turn and run, to beg for more time, but there was no more time, there could be no more delay. Ragnarök would come, and they must have him dealt with beforehand. He knew it like he knew each breath he took.

The large, brass-colored double doors boomed as they opened inward to admit him. The torchlight and sunlight bounced off of the engravings inlaid into the metal—one of Bor’s great battles with the monsters of Niffelheim.

Loki swallowed, his mouth felt dry.

“Proceed,” the Einherjar holding his chains prompted in a low voice.

Loki’s eyes widened, the unshed tears burning at the edges of his eyes again. His lips parted, letting out a whisper of a breath. He tilted his head forward, chin down, eyes straight ahead, and strode into the room as grandly as any parade horse, sending the chains swaying and slapping dully against the leather panels on his war jacket once again.

He came up in front of the dais where Odin sat in all his glory, one hand closed lightly around Gungnir and the other lying in his lap, the useless arm hidden neatly in his crimson mantle, his gnarled, broken hand concealed in a doeskin glove.

Ægir and Tyr flowed from behind him silently, only their steps sounding and their mantles rustling gently, to take their seats on the Council. Eight lords and one king—the Council of Nine.

The Einherjar holding his chains jerked him to a halt just before he came to a full stop, making him stumble back, and Loki grit his teeth, seething at the disrespect. He looked up at Odin, searching for some sign in the old god’s face as to what his punishment might be—for some sign that Odin would hear him, and listen, and believe him; and not deny his words as the desperate ravings of a murderous liar. But Odin’s scarred and weathered face revealed nothing, and his single good eye held only the cunning wisdom of an ancient monarch long-seated and much-revered.

Despite it, Loki hoped vainly that he would be allowed to say his piece. Hiding his mounting terror, he smiled, friendly and nonchalant—as if he had been brought in for committing a trick on a servant and not guided in with chains strung off of him like so many May-day streamers.

“You decide to see me at last—” he spread his hands as if encompassing the whole room, still smiling, “I was beginning to suppose you would leave me in the dungeons and forget me.” Loki canted his head to the left. “But here, thank the Norns, I am.” He dropped his hands back at his side.

Odin shifted his hand on Gungnir as he rose slow from his seat, moving the spear so its end struck the floor. It rang—ominous, and quietly into every corner of the large chamber.

Loki watched him steadily. He ignored the shifting of the lords; Ægir's bad habit of fiddling with the rings on his right hand when he felt ashamed.

“Do you feel so little for the anguish you have caused?” Odin’s voice moved through the air softly, yet it could be heard as clear as a pan-pipe’s high call. The gravity of it made Loki stiffen, and his heart began to beat erratically in his chest.

Loki feigned curious ignorance, peering exaggeratedly about the room. He lifted his hands again. “I see no pain inflicted by my hands—but then, I have been gone for a very long time, so perhaps I have forgotten of some old trick or spell I set in place; I will right it, if I can, only tell me so I might mend the damage.”

“You cannot redeem what the dead have taken, Loki! Or do you truly feel so little for the death of Baldr? Is your heart that cold toward the pain of your people, the tears of your mother, the grief of your siblings, that you dare make such a show of ignorance? After you fled from Asgard the night the despicable deed was done, and hid from all responsibility!” Odin’s voice rose in sharp command, in cutting judgment. Loki’s breath shortened, he heard a far-off ringing in his ears.

“I never would have, I only mean to say that I—”

“I wanted to hear of you, to listen to your words, and yet your absence reveals your character! You laugh and delight in suffering, you sit eagerly and watch wrongdoing commence—” Odin’s voice strained as he nearly shouted, sounding weary despite his outrage. “—and what is more egregious to my sight is that you revel in the unfortunate circumstance of others; would willingly cause them discomfort for your own pleasure!”

“No, that is not what I have done! I would tell you if you would only hear me, Father—” Loki leaned toward him, curbing his anger and looking at Odin imploringly.  

“Too often have I heard you, too often have I let you speak lies into my face; let you pacify me with shallow promises and gilded words concealing poisonous barbs beneath, thinking you mended of your ways. No more shall I allow this deceit in my presence, I cannot be wounded again with the blinded faith of a hopeful father, only to be laid low with your tricks!” Odin pressed Gungnir against the smooth stone again, and it rang like a peal of thunder.

Loki stepped back, eyes bright and watering. Odin set Gungnir into his damaged hand and then descended the steps from the dais, approaching Loki, deep red mantle swaying in his wake.

“It has been considered and thought out among the council, and it has been decided—I, Odin, king of this realm and protector of the Nine, now take from you your titles!” Odin reached out with his hand and caught Loki’s hand in his, wrenching the rings from his fingers to fling them to the ground; distantly they bounced and rolled across the marble. “I strip you of your place among my ancestors, and among my sons,” Odin took hold of the braid nearest Loki’s ear and pulled the golden clasp from it, and then from the next braid, and the next. Finally he combed the braids out with a rough downward motion of his fingers. Loki jerked his head. “For the crime of killing another Æsir who was your friend and companion, who trusted you—the son of your mother’s sister—I proclaim that you are no longer welcome within the gates of Asgard, and shall evermore be spurned by her citizens.”

Loki parted his lips, but no words came. He stared at Odin in soundless horror, waiting for the final blow sure to fall.

Odin had turned from him and taken two of the ascending steps to his throne, his shoulders hunched, and his stance tired, leaning heavily on Gungnir. But now he paused, looking back, forcing Loki to look up. “A life must be paid for the theft of a life. Loki Liesmith, for the crime you have committed—the cruel act of murdering Baldr in cold blood—you are sentenced to death. You will be taken hence to the Falls of Brunnr and deep into the caverns beside them, and there you shall be bound to the stone beneath the head of Franang. To suffer the poisonous venom that drips steadily from his fangs, until you are dead; however long the Fates decree that end shall take.”

Loki panted as the verdict reached its end and Gungnir rang out—loud and final through the chamber, symbolizing that the sentence should stand for all time. He yearned to breathe but felt as if someone had checked his flow of air. Staggering backward, he went easily into the hold of the Einherjar. His wild eyes found Ægir, looking ill and pale and pained. He had known this, and he hadn’t told him. He had known Odin would not hear him.

Franang.

Darkness.

Suffering.

Death.

Loki’s heartbeat pounded, he felt faint. The Einherjar dragged him toward the doors, away from the Council. Suddenly he rallied, fought against their relentless pulling, strove against the chains.

“No, no, you must hear me!” He twisted in the Einherjar’s grasp, broke loose, scrabbled across the marble as the guards raced after him. One stepped on the hem of his cape, and he fell headlong at the foot of the dais stairs. Loki reached out, fingers catching the edge of Odin’s red mantle. He stared up in mad desperation, feeling every single boyhood anxiety brought to bear. He pulled hard on the fabric like an adamant child, even as the Einherjar grabbed him and heaved him backward, tearing his hands out of Odin’s cape.

Loki twisted and arched his back, writhing fiercely. His tears fell hot and fast down his face. “You must, I beg you, hear me! All-father—my father, Father, do not let them do this to me—Do not let them put me in the dark, alone, to die! Hear me, hear my words! I am innocent of the crime you accuse me; I have done nothing wrong! Father!”

His voice resounded as the Einherjar took him from the council chamber.

But Loki only stared at Odin as the king stood there on the steps; silent, unmoved. Unfeeling. He felt his soul shatter into nine thousand pieces. Odin would not hear him. Angrboda had spokenthe truth; he had been only a pawn in the chess-match of politics, and he had been found wanting, so he was outcast; eliminated like so much refuse. It stung to understand in full how much a father could abandon a son. For the first time since his childhood, Loki wept bitterly.

[wolfs-crescent]

Traveler

Assassin's Creed Slash

Alpha/Omega/Beta Dynamics (just because)

Fluff

Crack Ship: Male! Eivor x Arno (I need this out of my head)

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

Arno sits on top of the horse as he listens to Eivor talks to a group of arguing Saxons. The time he spent with Eivor and clan he learned that Eivor likes to help people.

Which is probably why he isnt alone in a time hes never been in. It was last year when he was sent there for some reason. Right after the whole ordeal in France and now he's stuck in England or Britain or something like that.

Now he is in Raven clan clothing because hes original clothing was a bit futuristic. They had to hide his things because it would cause an up rise. Arno was just glad to keep his double blades on his forearms.

The clan was werid, in Arno's opinion because they welcomed him in open arms. They didnt hesitate and he favors Randvi because she made most sense, Eivor because he committed to helping him, and Hytham because he was an assassin. He was wry of Valka. Maybe it was because she was curious as he came from another time and tried to get him to drink her elixirs. Arno would make up excuses because he didn't feel like dying. Her favorite nickname for Arno is Traveler.

Arno's attention goes back on Eivor as one of the Saxons points over to him. Arno's hood is up so they could hardly see his face besides his hair pooling out of the side of his head.

"Oh come on, you have a a fine Omega sitting on that horse like it's nothing," yelled the upset male Saxon.

Arno glares at man which the man obviously cant see but Eivor clearlys sees it. It looks like the man is having an argument with an older man and younger woman. Probably a father and daughter and based on that sentence is the female is Omega.

Eivor on the other hand looks like he's ready to laugh and punch the man's face in. Eivor places both hands on his hips amd talk some more. Than Arno flinches up as Eivor takes his right hand and punches him in the jaw.

This amuses the Omega on top of the horse. The man apologizes or begs and runs off somewhere. Eivor waves the couple off and walks towards Arno who is starting to get uncomfortable on the horse.

"So what was that about," Arno eyes him form under the hood when Eivor reaches him.

"Some Alpha wanted to try an Omega as if shes an object. The father was trying to stop him, it's a good thing I intervene," Eivor explains.

"What a good smaratian you are," he watches Eivor pet the horse.

"I just like to help people out,"Eivor smiles at Arno, which causes him to have a werid feeling in his gut. "So, would you like me to sit from behind and you take the reins or the other way around."

"I believe the last time I tired to ride a horse, i fell and ate merde," Arno says with light amusement.

"Okay then, I'll show you," Eivor says with excitement in his voice and gets behind Arno.

"Now. But what if- Don't we have to go somewhere- ," Arno gets cut off when tha Alpha's chest is now on his back. His face heating up.

"It will be fine, trust me," Eivor guides Arno's hands to the reins, "Besides we'll make it to Sciropescire in no time."

"We could've taken the boat- the long ship and we tak-," Arno pauses, "This was your plan along." He looks behind him to stare at Eivor.

"No," Evior hesitates and Arno raises a brow, "I can't seem to lie to you can I 'Traveler'," Arno rolls his eyes and look forward again and back at his hands.

Eivor's hands were underneath his and he could feel Eivor's head on his shoulder. "Well it is part of it. I needed to talk to you, alone."

The Omega's face feels like it's on fire, "and what would that be."

The horse begins to move which causes Arno to jump and Eivor to chuckle, "We're going to meet a few allies of mine, friends. Ivarr and Ceolbert."

"I've heard you mention them a few times and I think I've heard Ceo-," Arno pauses because he wasn't sure if he could pronounce his name right.

"Ceolbert."

"Yes, Ceolbert at the settlement but I haven't spoken to him. I was to busy with Hytham and Valka drugging me," Arno says with a low tone at the end. Evior guides his hands to the side and he follows as the horse moves the direction they wanted to.

Eivor laughs, "Valka has your best interest when she gives you her elixirs. She's the best at what she does. She is a seer after all."

"Its just werid," Arno says, "So about Ceolbert and Ivarr."

"Ceolbert is a good man. Kind, wise, and he wants peace. Ivarr on the other hand is-," Eivor disappears into no speech.

"I have the feeling he might be a wild card," Arno gusses the sentence to Eivor's.

"I guess you could say that. He does have a bit of a biased view on Alphas and Omegas and believes that we can't achieve peace through talks but violence," Arno realizes his tone was wry.

"And is Ceolbert an Alpha," Arno asks.

"No hes a Beta but Ivarr has some good in him," the Alpha sounds unsure in his statement.

"Sounds like your unsure."

"I mean he can be rude, just-," Eivor cuts himself off.

"Just what," Arno's amusement catches in his voice.

"What makes you think I'll get in fight with him," Arno asks innocently making Eivor laugh.

"You have a short temper and the first time you arrived, you almost stabbed me with your double blades," Eivor says in a matter-of-a-fact tone.

"There suppose to be hidden," Arno shoots back, "And it's a good thing you spoke English."

"I don't feel like losing a finger and yours is more advanced," Eivor says.

Soon Arno heard a thick Dane accent cursing a storm about being bored. Then the reins were pulling the horse to a stop. The Omega turns to the Alpha and raises a brow.

"What now," Arno asks the Eivor.

"Dont do anything irrational," Eivor asks.

"I wont," the heat was going back to Arno's face as he felt Eivor's breath on his face.

The Omega watches the Alpha look at Arno's eyes and down to his lips. The Alpha places a rough hand the Omega's face. The space closes between them.

It was soft and Eivor notices that Arno's lips are soft but slightly rough. The Alpha slowly licks the Omega's bottom lip and Arno let's him in. Their tongues dance together and Arno's closes arm clutches to his shirt. As Eivor's hands makes a spot for themselves on his hips.

They pull apart when they heard a loud swear ring in the air. Arno slowly smiles, "We should probably go before your friend goes mad."

Eivor's hand start to make small circles, "Maybe."

"But we definitely aren't finish," Arno says before kissing under ear. Eivor stares dumbfounded as he watches Arno gets off the horse with a sly smile.

"Indeed we are not," Eivor smiles.

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

This is up to you if you want a secound part or other parts, otherwise this is a one shot.

[mythopoeticreality]

The Road Goes Ever On - Chapter 5

Okay, so this chapter took a bit, sorry about that! >.< That said, Curufin’s growing more and more frustrated and still no introductions have happened yet xD 

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900423/chapters/56267356

Chapter 5

Golden daylight and the heady mead of wind-stirred grasses carried in from Yavanna’s pastures; the warm musk of his horse, and the low nicker she gave as Curufinwë approached her to begin tacking her for the day’s journey; the velvet softness of her fur as she nosed at him playfully in greeting, and the power he could feel held within her muscles even as she stood still -- he could see it, taste it, feel it still now all so clearly.

His brothers were not far off, preparing to set off, while Atar and Amil were cleaning up from the morning's meal.

“Atto! Atto, let me help!” Tyelpë’s high, piping voice. As he lay the saddle across the horse’s back, Curufinwë cast a glance back over his shoulder, to find his son running up to him, little legs making quick work of the leaf litter and scraggling undergrowth beneath them.

A raised brow and a faintly bemused quirk to his lips. Hadn’t Tyelco taken to watching the boy? His gaze flickered back to meet Finyanís’s, who’s eyes he could now feel resting on his back. His wife had paused in the midst of tacking her own horse and now, with her arms crossed over her chest, just stood there, head tilted back as she looked at him.

It was almost a relief as the rapid pad of the boy’s feet across the forest floor grew closer.

Spinning around, Curufinwë swept down, and scooped a laughing Tyelpë up into his arms.

“Now, where is your uncle?” He murmured.

Tyelpë just shrugged. “By the stream I think. He was showing me how it comes all full of fish this time of year, and I bet him he couldn't name them all, but he told me that he could, so he--”

“Yes, yes, I believe I get the idea…” Curufinwë rolled his eyes. Tyelcormo...

“He is your son…” Finyanís said, shaking her head as she approached. She held out her arms for Tyelpë, and Curufinwë passed him over to her, a smirk flickering across his features despite himself as he bent down to tighten the girth on his horse’s saddle.

“Hello Ammë!” Tyelpë was saying, “I’ve come to help Atto with his horse!”

“Oh, did you now?” Finyanís replied, “Well, I am sure there is nothing your father would like better! Isn’t that so, Curvo?”

Despite himself, Curufinwë could not help the smile tugging at his lips. His son was at that age wherein he wanted to be just like his father, and be involved in everything his father was. Twisting his gaze upward, Curufinwë gave a quick grunt and a nod. It was as he was stepping back and pulling himself to his full height that the peace of the moment was broken.

“There you are, you sneaking fox!” Tyelcormo’s voice cut suddenly through the air beneath the treeline they’d settled under the night before. As if to underline his words, Huan’s rumbling bark came like rolling thunder a moment later.

Curufinwë turned a slow glance backward, to find his brother absolutely sopping, front smeared, from his face downward with mud.

“Gone for a swim Tyelco?” One of the Ambarussa. Beside the one twin, the other snickered. Carnistir was smirking as well, even as he snapped at the two to get back to helping him pack up.

“Ilúvatar in Eä, did you push him in?” Curufinwë found himself murmuring , sliding his eyes back towards his son, now curling up and apparently trying to hide himself away against his mother’s chest. Meanwhile Finyanís seemed to be struggling to hide her own silent laughter.

“He fell.” Tyelpë said, poking his head up, “When he saw that I was going and tried to chase after. ” A pause, “I’m not in trouble am I?”

“Curufinwë!” Tyelcormo’s roar cut off whatever it was Curufinwë meant to say. He turned, canting his head just to the side as his brother approached.

“That son of yours…”

“Yes, what about him, Turko?”

It might have been comedic, the way his brother’s eyes widened as he stared back at Curufinwë. With a wide, exaggerated wave of his arm Tyelcormo put on display the full glory of the disarray he’d fallen into -- clearly enough to answer for all, without further comment.

“Hrmmm.” Curufinwë swept his eyes up and over his brother (and could not help but take note that Huan stood absolutely bone-dry beside him). “Yes. Well, I have told Tyelperinquar to watch his step near the water’s edge. If you cannot help but be a bad example to him…”

“A bad exam- A...are you serious? Can you not see that he-- He tricked--!”

“Turko,” Curufinwë drawled, by now turning from his brother and back to Tyelpë and Finyanís, arms held out for the boy again, “Do you really wish to go on crowing about how a child of less than a decade outsmarted you?” His eyes slid back over his shoulder, and just for a moment a teasing smirk touched at his lips. It was so easy to get a rise out of Turko at times, and perhaps it was rather childish, yet still he couldn’t help but take some amusement from it. It was only his right as younger brother, was it not?

With faint snort he turned his attention back on Finyanís and his son. “Come then,” Curufinwë said, as Tyelpë was handed back over to him and he set him upon his horse, “Today you ride with me, Tyelpë.”

The boy’s face lit up at this and as he glanced about from his perch, looking as though he were on top of the world, his eyes caught Tyelcormo’s expression. He giggled.

“One day…” The silver-haired elf was saying, stepping nearer and slapping an arm (and sodden through sleeve --mud and water were seeping through, clammy and clinging to Curufinwë ’s back ) around Curufinwë’s shoulder, “One day, Curvo, you are going to wake up and find that that boy has grown up to be just like you.”

Hearing those words, of course Tyelpë sat all the taller, his chest puffing out in pride. Curufinwë’s gaze slid up to meet Tyelcormo’s however, and the razor-edged grin there spoke all too well of how much Turko himself would enjoy that moment..

“Well, one can only hope.” was all Curufinwë replied, rolling his shoulders to push Tyelcormo back, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss upon Tyelpë’s brow. Swinging himself up onto the horse behind the boy, he glanced down at his brother.

“If I were you, I would start getting ready to go. Atar will want to be off soon, I feel.”

Tyelcormo rolled his eyes, waving off Curvo’s words, but even so, he turned, loping off towards his own end of camp.

That had been this morning.

They were silver-lined shadows, his father, his brother and himself, now standing reflected in the rippling trails traced by the stranger as he crouched over the lake shore. The air was chill, damp. It smelled of leaf-rot and loam, the waiting silence that hung over the clearing a world away from the birdsong and easy banter that morning had brought.

“What is he doing?” Curufinwë found himself hissing, leaning nearer to his brother, his eyes not once leaving the stranger. His eyes hadn’t left the stranger if he could help it since first landing on him. The night’s darkness seemed almost to swallow the man. The Treelight that burned like a reflected flame in elvish eyes and glowed softly like embers beneath elvish flesh? No, he possessed none of that, the night and it’s shadows almost seeming to swallow this creature. And it seemed to Curufinwë that he almost embraced that fact…

“Do you expect me to know?” Tyelcormo hissed back, “Certainly nothing I have seen before. Tracing some strange pattern over the water...I may look the part, but I am no Teler, brother!”

Curufinwë’s frown only deepened. Why had they come here? They were wasting time, standing over some empty lake shore, while meanwhile Eru knew where his son was! They should have been out there searching!

His eyes slid back towards his father. It was the only reassurance he had, even as the voice at the back of his mind kept hissing at him to return to camp, to grab his horse and go running through these woods to find Tyelpë himself, if he must. Only on Atar’s account did he stand here now. The stranger he may not have trusted as far as Tyelpë could have thrown him, but his father?

His father, he would have followed into Oblivion and back.

So he waited, and he watched, until suddenly, a light broke. Two glimmering lines, crossing one another as the man traced them out. The man made another gesture. And the lake burst from within with a silvery network of light, stretching over it’s dark surface. Like the veins of some living creature or like the spreading cracks over broken glass.

Despite himself Curufinwë’s breath caught and he found himself edging nearer. Atar too seemed unable to help himself, his eyes hungry as he watched on. Somewhere behind himself, Curufinwë was aware of Huan’s low growl and Tyelcormo’s own edginess, but…

As the man made another sign, the patterns of light changed, shifting, looking in one moment like the lines of a map, in another moment like constellations and stars he had never seen, and in the next…

“Writing…” Atar’s voice as he recognized it. No writing that either of them had ever seen or could be expected to know, but…

The Stranger meanwhile kept working, tapping at one of the quarters he’d drawn over the lake’s surface, only for the writing and lines to shift again into something else completely different. And then again, and then again, each moment the image over the lake’s surface appearing more and more a map. He didn’t look up from this once as he worked, only making an offhanded motion behind himself.

And that was when the earth moved. It was as if he had been a flea riding upon a giant’s back, and the giant were now rolling his shoulders. A wave went through the earth, the ground beneath his very feet giving a low groan and suddenly, caught in a wave of motion it was all Curufinwë and his father could do to stumble backwards and stay steady on their own two feet. Atar snapped at the stranger, who murmured something back, apparently unconcerned.

Atar only gritted his teeth, casting a bitter look at the man, but saying no more.

“What? What did he say?” Curufinwë pressed. That too only made him trust the man less, that he couldn’t understand him, and apparently was the only one who couldn’t understand the garble of bird-song and wind-whispers that was the man’s speech.

Atar said nothing, but Tyelcormo snorted, “He asked if Atar works any better himself, with someone breathing down his neck.”

Curufinwë shut his eyes, pressing out a long,low breath through his nose.

Meanwhile the network of constellations and lines grew all the denser, all the more twisting and complex. If Curufinwë did not know better, he might have said that the image were growing into some ghostly forest in itself, a tangle of trees and ivy, of ruins hiding in shadows and hill-sides, all just hovering over the lake like a mist. If he just stepped forward, it could all simply swallow him alive.

And far, far at the other side of the lake (map? forest?) a light glowed, brighter and sharper than all of the rest. Even now it was moving.

Curufinwë’s heart skipped a beat. What else could that light be but his son? It took every ounce of his self-control to stay where he stood as he saw it, to not grab the Stranger by the shoulders and shake him, demanding he tell him where it was that they were looking at.

The Stranger eyed the image before him for a moment. His shoulders tightened, just enough for Curufinwë to notice, before he pushed himself back to his feet again, made a motion with this hand, sweeping the image away, and turned back to meet both Curufinwë and Atar’s eyes.

The man was...slow in his speech, seeming to choose his words carefully. It set Curufinwë’s nerves on edge to hear that tone, to not know what was being said in that moment, but to see the way Atar’s knuckles stood out so tight against his skin.

Huan and Tyelcormo came up behind him, and it was Tyelcormo who took pity enough to translate what was said for him.

“He says that he knows where it is Tyelpë travels now, at the least. His destination however…”

“Tell me Tyelcormo, where is he?”

He could feel the Stranger’s gaze on him. Pittiless, appraising. The same sort of gaze that Curufinwë might have worn himself while choosing a gemstone for a new project. Curufinwë ignored him.

Seeing his brother's expression, Tyelcormo’s own gaze turned inwards, lips pressing into a thin line. It was Atar who spoke.

“We will need to discover the ones who took him to tell us that.”

As if this were some play put on in Tirion, as if this all were some tale Kano were telling around whilst the family were gathered about the Tonfui fire, The braying of a hunting horn broke suddenly over the trees. All three elves stood suddenly straightened, eyes spinning towards the sound.

The Stranger too glanced upward. He stepped forward. Looked almost as though he were waiting.

And that, as the thunder of horse’s hooves grew like the approach of an oncoming storm, Curufinwë liked the least.

[linipik]

Ooo, whats Nyxs plans for Adam? How do the others feel about their Roman counterparts (and whats Lances reaction to Alluras bf)? Do the romans tell Allura about Lotor?

Voltron x PJO AUpart 1 | part 2 | part 3 | Part 4

As always, i am sorry for my writing, i am no writer. and sorry for taking so long in updating this AU.It is written the same way I narrate to myself but the general of the story is all there! (and I think this is the longest part to date)

RECAP TIME:

Shiro, Keith, Lance, Pidge and Hun are Greek demigods, Allura is a Roman Demigod. Their quest is about finding Matt and getting to Mount Othrys  since it is appearing because rough demigods *cough* Lotor guiding the Romans *cough* are siding with Kronos because the Gods have gone radio silent for WAY too long. Reah helped Allura to get to Camp Half Blood and meet the Greeks because she doesn’t want his husband to pit demigods against the gods anymore  but she made Allura promise to not reveal the the thing about camp Jupiter existing… They parted on their quest, had a couple of bonding moments *WINK*  and when they got to the Gods Junkyard they met some roman demigods who were scrapping for weapons and who attacked team voltron only to be saved by MATT (accompanied with other demigods  surviving away from any of the camps). 

Under the cut is how it all follows

FIRSTLY lets move to Tartarus:Adam FELL…into tartarus only to be found by Nyx on her flying chariot and Adam convinced her that he was more valuable alive. 

Nyx took Adam as errand boy in tartarus in exchange of the death mist thing and you know, not dying. Doing that he found the hermes shrine and he tried to contact his father or anyone without much success for MONTHS but at least there he got some food, so…yeah, it wasn’t all that bad. But of course the more he tried to contact his father , and after not getting an answer, it really seemed the gods couldn’t care less about their half human children and it can make anyone feel angry and unimportant.

Every single soul on tartarus has a thing against zeus and demigods and he always said like “ im just the messenger i dont care”, but since everyone is so bored they kept asking him about what got him there. But he had to be careful af bc telling dangerous ancient souls about how much he missed his bf a son of zeus (or ex boyfriend he is not sure) was SO not an option. BUT was by meeting these ppl that he met one of those kings that have escaped tartarus in the past and BOI did that gave him faith. It was possible. The thing is  being in tartarus is weakening for a demigod, repeating yourself enough times that you are NOT dead is not enough to believe.. you are not dead. He rly wants a way out and, after all, Adam is the son of Hermes, god of travellers and the only god to be able to travel from the land of the dead to….anywhere so he had to channel he had that in himself, he only needed a way to get OUT. One of the days he is in the Hermes shrine he gets a dream on how to get out there: One of the non guarded, full of monster, secret doors to the mortal world through the labyrinth.

That is when he sets on that journey and finds in the entrance to the labyrinth/ exit from tartarus. He also finds in that exact point a adamantine sword: perseus sword (not percy riptide. Perseus,) a harpe giving to the olden hero by hermes, (The harpē  was a type of sword or sickle; a sword with a sickle protrusion along one edge near the tip of the blade made of the indestructible metal adamantine , check it out it is pretty cool). The sword is cool and all but as always with demigods, when something good happens it only means something worse it’s on its way. And finding a weapon is bad news and everyone knows it.AND THAT is how Adam got out of tartarus. By then a year or so has passed and it is basically in the same moment hour 6 heroes start their own quest.

NOW..There are romans demigods with Matt, they recognise Allura  and don’t really trust her because they kind of think she is with Lotor, but Matt is like, NAH she is with MY friends , with MY sister and they trust she so, she is alright and while they are camping in some safe part of the junkyard Matt explains to Voltron team about how camp half blood is not the only camp, and that there are…more ways a demigod can survive away from camp, there are the amazons and the hunters and all kind of side places created by demigods for demigods where they can feel safe. 

They all then look at Allura who is relieved she can come clean to her quest mates, but then then she is confused by why Romans are attacking them, and some of the demigods who are with Matt say it is Lotor (who..it really is but Allura didn’t know is siding with kronos) and Allura is like “No no, it can’t be, Lotor is thoughtful and charming and a great leader who will always have his reasons and wants the best for Camp Jupiter and he is a real Hero “ half flustered and Lance sees that Allura actually...like-like this Lotor. Who seems to be La creme de la creme in the Roman camp while Lance is a rookie demigod, not really a fighter, on his first quest and he has been about to die most times than all of the others together in the past like 3 days.. 

And Lance just goes by…oh because he wanted Allura to like him because he was really liking her and the way she seems a full flagged fighter and leader. BUT still in a very Lance way he sides with Allura in front of everyone including the demigods who are not trusting her, “ of course she is not doing this to harm other kids, she has risked her life for us and she could enter camp halfblood so she is good and full of good intentions and Reah herself guided her to us so she is great”. AND Keith is like….oh because it seems Lance really likes Allura  and even if they were hitting it off with the Pegasi maybe it was all in his head and Lance would like more someone like Allura who is actually thoughtful and not him who doesn’t know where his head is half the time :’)So..how to get from Arizona to Mount Othrys without being spotted by rough demigods, the romans AND all kind of monsters ON TIME? The only answer they find is The Labyrinth that is equally dangerous but could keep them away from revealing their position and their plan to the Romans. The idea is that Allura gets to camp Jupiter and confront Lotor …without being detected so she cant be stopped by Lotor….right handsMatt navigated trough it enough to suggest it is possible to get everywhere from there, Shiro is having a mental breakdown because he doesn’t want to get inside it again but he is good at hiding his feelings and be a Good Leader ™ But Matt is gonna keep with the demigods trying to slow down the romans and monsters while mount ostrys just gets more powerful and to distract them from the real quest with team voltron.

…And Pidge. Pidge is like NOUP I promised Athena I will bring you back alive and I found you and I wont Let You Go Again, We are heading back to camp because that is the only logical solution. Nothing says WE have to keep in this quest and we can go back regroup in camp half blood and live to fight another day with a better plan.But Matt has changed a lot since he went out on his quest with Shiro and Adam and he has met these amazing demigods and  he tells her there are many things worth fighting for that thinking with her heart is equally important, and that they will meet again in camp Jupiter.In the Labyrinth!So yeah everyone kind of say their good byes and goes separate ways entering the labyrinth, technically they were set on following monsters (brilliant plan) because they are being kind of called by mount Othrys. As you know, the labyrinth is a fucking mess and without a real way to navigate it it is impossible to be completely sure what is going on, It changes and it seemed it was fuckin with them. After an incident with some flesh eating horses and trying to get away from rough demigods and monster trying to get them to the gladiator arena, a big attack from a Kampe it all goes to hell. 

They found themselves in a REALLY  small passage where SHiro is having a problem with his mechanical arm and hunk is trying to see what made it high-wire so much ,Lance started to get on his own, because he is brave and he could get them out of there and maybe he just have to knock on that weird rock door with a strange painting. That is when the painting in the wall started to look more than real and the Kampe spotted Lance first of course, and while he froze at the giant horrible monster who was destroying the walls and the floor and everything in the small passage materialising in front of him, Allura saved his sorry ass (again) controlling the mist as well as she could, but since she has been more worried about the entire Lotor siding with Kronos thing, it is not…as effective as it should. Pidge is trying to REALLY work up  an exit, and thinking quick she tells allura to distract the Kampe with copies of them while they escape from the roof. BUT the Kampe is not fooled and When Allura and Pidge  are the closest to the improve exit on the roof, Shiro and Hunk are about to get decked, Lance in one of his hero complex things gets the full attention of the monster again and Keith goes by OH No. Not. Again. and gets Lance out of the way. Lance is getting really furious with Keith bc it is the zillion time Keith takes him out of the way  of a fight, as if he was not able to do things himself. The beast is attacking Keith now, frustrated that his precious prey got away and makes the floor crumble with Shiro and Hunk sliding further down, Allura Pidge and Lance got into the way of the roof and keith is channelling all that energy, the one that made him get to shiro back in his first quest, and he is able to step on the rock doorway disappearing from the monster. 

Shiro and Hunk end up together in one of the most ancient parts of the labyrinth, dark, smelling like wet earth and little breathing space….,and poor shiro who was trying so hard to keep calm is 5 minutes into losing it completely , he, a son of zeus is underground, feels trapped and thinking they can end up in the gladiator arena again is driving him a bit too insane. Hunk is seeing this and does what he does best, try to get how the current problem works, bu this time is not some piece of metal but it is Shiro’s entire existence. ANd for all that is worth, Hunk is really good at coming trough for others in pinch moments.

Lance Pidge and Allura end up together navigating the most tedious part of the labyrinth. dumb monsters marching to the same place  and they cant do anything but follow them with the help of allura’s mist to disguise them and praying Lance natural monster magnetism doesn’t get them killed…and the only door they find ends up in the middle of a GIANT field, so no help. It is tedious af and it just gets MORE tedious by their current situation: Allura is  trying to get the mist to work for her but she is having a hard time concentrating after learning her family, the romans and…Lotor are behind Kronos getting stronger. 

Lance is  trying his best on keeping not only alive but showing he has everything to be a hero, but honestly he is debuting everything he knew about himself, He has been about to drown, he froze in front of a monster, he never knows what is going on. He has no quest experience like shiro and keith, he is not good at solving puzzles like Pidge or repairing stuff like Hunk, not to mention he had no idea about the romans or any of the problems Allura is having but he still tries hard to be the charming demigod who is no afraid of anything and is there to support her every move. Even tho he knows…it has been Keith the whole time who has been taking him away of fights the entire time, even fixing his mess of waking the Kampe, probably for the best because maybe…just maybe…Aphrodite kids where not mean to be on quests after all.)

Pidge, is just looking at the horizon like she is in the office. Matt might be her beloved brother, but seeing how they all are thinking with their hearts and that is making them terrible for this quest is another level. And Lance,…lance is ranting to her how he could totally go against Kampe if Keith did not interfere again and again. BUT Pidge knows that Keitth has a problem with Lance being in danger and it is not because Lance is not capable exactly and more with Keith crushing hard on Lance, So she yeah, she is trying to side with Keith here out of solidarity and convince Lance that Keith is not trying to sabotage him or any of those things. That maybe Lance could learn from keith and spend more time with him maybe (wingman pidge ftw)

Keith ended up alone in the labyrinth and after being able to use again his  doorway powers he finds himself in a room with two doors and a doorman in the middle of them. The two faced doorman is Janus himself ask him which is the door he is gonna go, which decision is the correct one since he will have to make The Choice of His Life in the future….and inpatient Keith start asking Janus ALL the questions at once starting by “what was that?”, “what does his coin means?”,”what was his mother relationship with Janus?”, “that he knows about the romans and that it is unfair he didn’t knew before” and blablabla. And janus is like,one of this doors give you all answers, the other takes him to certain death and Keith goes by coin flipping decision time in hopes he could trick Janus into revealing the correct one since he figure out Janus is just trying to fuck with his head. And surprise! the moment he flipped the coin it transformed into an imperial gold gladius and keith basically surprises janus, Keith goes to stab him and janus just disappears through one door and keith in a moment of good judgement goes to the other because Janus of course went trough the door that would kill Keith. SO…he gets to the door with the answers BIG GASPSO

Back to Hunk and Shiro are in one of the ancient marts of the maze and they start walking thanks to Hunk who was prepared to go into a really dark place and has scraps from Hephaestus Junkyard. And in one of those rm=emote parts of the Maze, they start hearing talking, HUMANS talking, to be precise demigods and it means it is the same kind of demigods that are working with monsters and trying to get Kronos back and Shiro is like protector mode ACTIVATE and is ready to fight them as soon as the turn one corner but the  demigods sound like they are..discussing between them SO they end up getting as close as they want to hear what they are talking about and SHiro just stops dead on his trail as he recognises one of the demigods….it is Adam.

and Shiro NOW stops breathing. So hunk resolves that the best approach is NO fighting so he kind of goes in making himself appear he is on their side  playing innocent and that some leader needs them BUT Adam recognises him from camp and Adam gets Hunk is Lying. He is about to knock Hunk out and… shiro interferes. So you know this is the first time they see each other after their fight back before Shiro was captured and made a champion, before Adam went to tartarus and Back. (their fight was about how shiro is always playing the hero and getting himself and everyone around him into dangerous shit and how Adam was playing it safe and never wanting to risk more than he should. BOth were correct) Adam: I thought you were dead Shiro: I thought YOU were deadAnd it ends up being the Most Awkward Reunion in the world. like Hunk thought they were gonna be fireworks and tears and a kiss but it  is nothing like that. They fall directly into quest mode because talking about their feelings is recognising their previous fight and that they separated.Adam stares at shiro new scar/arm/hair all the time and Shiro stares at adam new sword/dark circles under his eyes and he is always On Edge. Both look tired and terrible. .Hunk is like, OKAY good the update but we should be thinking on getting to the others!! and Adam tells them that the baddies have a way to navigate the Labyrinth accurately : clear eyed mortals who are in danger and shiro is all like, we HAVE TO go for them. And it is actually the only plan they have. Anyway, Adam has been with the rogue demigods for some time now and knows a weird lot about their plan, he is totally aware that those are demigods tired of being the pawns of the gods and after his field trip to tartarus he honestly sees why.  of course shiro and hunk tell him , about the Romans and about mt othrys  and how Kronos is gaining power from the rogue demigods and more monsters and titans and everything is marching destroying any minor deity or nature spirit who is on the God’s side and how even then…the god’s have been silent. surprising no one.

Allura Lance and Pige arrive to the place the monster are marching to inside the labyrinth: It is an Arena and they recognise it as Shiro’s gladiator arena and MMMM they are starting to also see rogue demigods and minor deities and things are starting to get dangerous but they can’t turn back or they get more attention than they want so they go inside the arena where everyone is  reuniting for something and trusting the mist to do its job BUT before getting in they get spotted by a girl in a cell: She tells them how weird is to see a purple shirt (Allura) with two orange shirts (Lance and Pidge) and even more that they are disguising themselves. The girl looks like she has been in the cell for LONG time: Surprise it is Shay, (a clear eyed mortal) but they couldn’t open it at all so they moving inside the arena for what seems a BIG meeting promising her they are coming back for her.

MEANWHILE, Keith finds himself in the door with the answers. He is now in a warehouse in the middle of a meeting. Of several romans. Who are now looking at him like he just insulted them and their mothers. And They are all “noooo this cant be that door was enchanted” and keith is all “YOU ARE MY ANSWER? WHO THE F ARE YOU ALL? WHERE IS JANUS?” They are seeing a young demigods with a CHB shirt  wielding an imperial gold clearly roman sword ready to fight. Not Normal at all. And a clearly old guy with a scar in one eye and the BOSS  is all “kid, you are a roman” . Things start computing in his head the coin, the weird way he was able to find SHiro, his past encounter with Janus… but keith goes “I am a son of Ares” From the group of romans a woman calls his name: “…Keith?” and… that is when Krolia appears.

Reunion Time! Krolia is a Janus Legacy and went to Camp Jupiter back in the day, this group is an Olden Elite Roman Secret Group part of the old Preatorian Guard, who never ceased to exist and that has been moving parallel to Camp Jupiter for centuries. They are the Speculatores Augusti, dedicated mostly to avoid the secret of the existence of the romans demigods to go out there  and keeping the roman problems…roman, it is like a legend inside camp jupiter but they still exist in the shadows. and right now they are trying to calm this nonsense. They Know about Lotor, and they know that the plan is to turn demigods away from the gods and that it would revive Kronos.

Some Backstory:

Krolia is not a demigod directly, she is a Legacy but an incredible good fighter and then she got with Ares. Krolia met Texas after being pregnant with Keith. (insert here an incident Texas going all, wow pregnant lady you alright?) And wao, they hit it off really, enough to Krolia consider to have a mortal normal life…normal as it could be. And Keith was born and they were a family for little time but then rumors started about Kronos awakening slowly  and that Keith would be in the middle of the THAT war and that the Romans where starting to not hear from the gods and suddenly it all started to be more than rumors so she decided to leave them and try to stop whatever was happening from inside. And she left them with  a janus coin so he could know something about his roots and , making texas promise he wouldn’t let keith go to any of the camps and Texas was like OKAY but he died when Keith was 10 or something and Keith ended up in camp Half blood anyway…. And she didn’t know until this moment when her son was in front of her and now she knows texas is dead and everything is a little bit too sad.

Keith tells them what he knows from his quest, about shiro about the arena about allura about the rogue demigods and about the other good demigods working with Matt he is basically full of good info and it gave them the ultimate details to do finish their STRIKE the  that has to be ASAP before that whole army marches to mt Othrys  and puts in danger the entire world. And Keith is like….but for Kronos to gain all his power he will need more time…that is what Matt said. And they explain that the one danger in Mount Ostrys is no other than Atlas himself and if someone takes the sky from him The General of Kronos would be Free and that would mean The End. 

And that is how the entire secret roman group Keith is now part of goes to the place where the big army is reuniting: The Arena (btw this is the group that has Ariadne’s String and that’s how they can use the Labyrinth )

THEN

We have the three groups all reuniting in the same place.Adam Hunk and Shiro want to rescue the innocent mortals Allura Lance and Pidge are there to know what the in the hades is going onKeith is there with the Speculatores to stop the armyThe monsters are all ready to  part and in the podium there are Titans are guiding the army and some demigods allura recognises as ex- roman campers, and they say the found a way to navigate the labyrinth and that they are going to san francisco immediately to liberate their general and to meet with the Romans who are also tired of the god’s nonsense, between the horrible noises monsters did in agreement. Allura is seeing how this only could be possible with the help of someone INSIDE camp Jupiter but she doesnt want it to be Lotor. and asks herself why Reah didn’t say anything when she send Allura to CHB. Lance and Pidge see that the mist is really wearing off and that Allura is tired to the bone so they start to head to the exit but it is cramped with monsters, and a random demigod spots Lance and they are in REAL problems now that the baddies are have seen him, but not…them SO…..Lance does the sensible thing and tells Pidge that it is important to get Allura to Camp Jupiter and he directs the attention to himself. 

 Adam Shiro and Hunk are using a moment when all the baddies are distracted with something to open the cells of the mortals (thanks lock picking  Adam abilities via hermes) and they get to Shay, she tells them that Allura Lance and Pidge are there..NOw the monsters being distracted and furious make sense and it is horrifying . SHiro jumps to go to look for them despise Adam telling him to wait that he feels something is Not Right and he is getting really frustrated with shiro because of his hero complex and there is when HUnk tells Adam that probably is because Shiro  has more of a survivors complex since the moment he arrived to camp half blood without them, that probably even when he was in the arena he felt more lucky than matt and  him since he was alive. Adam is like, damn him, and HUnk is like MAYHAPS if you too talked you could get somewhere YOU KNOW, being under heavy circumstances can really make anyone  have a crooked perspective and that it is what always happens with old machines that often people dont know it but they work like that too. and you just have to be kind and  work with that new perspective to be able to see the present and what is happening and not what it is supposed to be happening. 

Shiro finds Pidge and Allura first and send them to where adam and hunk are close to the cells, and Pidge tells him that Lance did probably the most stupid thing ever  but there is a WALL of monsters and is being really difficult to get to where Lance is and curses his entire existence for being underground and not having the space for flying or lightening or nothing and he feels USELESS AF

Keith is with his new roman secret organisation intending to work again from the shadows, after hearing the plan or the army heading to mt othrys the plan to take as many monsters down right there right then is the best. They plan to blow the  arena and send the majority of monsters direct to tartarus or some pit deep down. But then, there is the shift in the monsters attention and when Keith and others go to investigate from one of the upper levels of the tribune before, you know, blowing the whole thing up. From there…He sees is mother fucking Lance and his heart stops or beats faster…Lance is alone  surrounded by so many monsters that it is ridiculous and holding a number lance is in “who wants to go against ME first uh? maybe this is the lucky day any of you get to kill a beautiful son of Aphrodite OR maybe I could kill you?? who knows!!”and “That telekhine thinks he is better than all the empousai look at him! he is gonna strike first! are the empousai so weak they are gonna let him win? really?”and pinning the  monsters against each other and it is ridiculous and charming  but over all dangerous because it is obvious to Keith Lance could not go if 3 or more of the monster decided to attack together. So he tells the other speculators to wait 5 minutes so he can save Lance, they say 1 or they might miss the opportunity to blow the most important titans.  So that is the best he can get. Keith starts going down to the arena where Lance is, resolved to his bones to WIN and pulverise anything that dares harm his… friend

Lance has been streaking of with his bow any monster who is falling for his taunt and pinning some of them against each other but arrows are limited and he lost his sword back with the Kampe. Monsters seem to be picking up that too because the circle is getting tighter and there is no way out but if he is going down he is going down fighting. Keith gets to him 

-queue to some serious Ares Blessing Moment-

 Lance shoots his last  two arrows and starts hitting monsters with his bow …and then Keith is in front of him , red glow around him and practically…invincible. Lance is half jealous, but also half in awe. Keith is more than a natural wielding not one but two swords (his spatha and a new golden gladius) (was that even possible??) The monsters who were all focused in Lance didn’t see Keith coming at them Keith passed him his spatha in the middle of the fight and it was even better than when they were sparring at camp. They didn’t need words to know what to do and they were holding it well against the monsters and it felt that, at that rhythm two demigods did had an opportunity to come out alive. A second later shiro’s metal arm appeared harming  a monster, and Keith just yells at shiro “The floor!” and takes lance, holds on to shiro and BAM-

There is no more floor! the explosion takes half of the Arena , many monsters start falling and shiro is concentrating the entire power he is channelling from the very deep of his gut into not letting these two demigods and himself fall with the rest of the confused monsters. The explosion gave him enough wind to fly a bit and it is the best he has felt since entering the damned labyrinth. And soon gets them to their even larger group.

- NOW they are all reunited!

They are all happy to be reunited again, but it is Big Awkward tm. Lance was SO close of dying so many times it stopped making sense, Keith  is a roman Legacy,Adam is alive but spend a weird amount of time on tartarus and then with the baddies and that mess up any demigod,  shiro and him have a silent treatment going (weighted by all  the things they want to say to to each other that have been accumulating for they time apart) Allura is a bit heartbroken and confused because everything she knows is going down, Pidge literally let Lance distract the monsters because it was the only logical thing to do but he is also her friend and it was…not a good decision and she knows it. And Hunk, the Hephaestus child is trying his hardest in keeping them going somewhere. while taking the rescued mortals out of the labyrinth.So they head to the next exit they find to regroup and think what they are going to do.

Allura met the boss speculators augusti, Kolivan , and she is shocked something so secret has been running alongside her camp for so long…but she is relieved not all romans are on the bad side and gives her hope that camp jupiter has survived so many things They tell her to not open suspicion to lotor when they get to san francisco…so they have more of an element of surprise to defeat him.The Roman BoM is down to closing any doors from inside the labyrinth, rescue any other mortal that could be helping the army and Get to camp mt othrys, after all they have ariadne;s string to navigate that hellhole.

Lance is decided to follow Pidge advice and reallt talk to Keith, after all they were working well together, it has been a life or death situation but somehow it felt just right , being with keith, fighting side by side, it felt like they could do anything.

“Hey man…Thanks for saving m- “and keith interrupts him angry and welp, that is so not what lance was expecting “are you insane? WHAT? what the fuck where you thinking, are you a martyr? do you have a death wish? if you ever get in some stupid situation like that again I….” and keith shuts up but Lance follows anyway, “you what? UH KEITH? you WHAT!? “Keith: “just get out of the way and let the others do their job” and thats is the last drop for lance,”am i in the way? YOU are on mine. you are always on my way. I know you think i cant do this , you think so low of me that i cant survive on my own, we all know you are so good , a Natural, well, you are not the only capable hero-” Keith :”ï dont care about being a stupid hero! “ Lance: “WELL, I DO” lance is about to cry and is when  keith knows he cant keep being around lance, he doesn’t want him in danger and Lance will only keep heading first to complete that damned quest. Keith  knows lance is good he is what heroes are made of and honesty that scares him. Heroes don’t have happy endings, right?.  Lance just stands up and goes. It all was a mistake, going to Keith was a mistake and he was a fool for believe he and keith were even playing on the same field because every time it seems they have something going it ends up even worse.

and keith is not even surprised it all ended up badly he knows the demigod way and it is that for every good thing that happens, something worse is coming: adam is alive - he seems like he’s seen death, he found the truth about himself - the romans are this close on bringing Kronos back, he gets close to lance fighting side by side - apparently lance hates him, SO…ketith decides to go with his mom , “after all adma is here, you are six now for the quest , and…we will find each other again at mt othrys or camp jupiter”  he tells them 

And the guy just…LEAVES. everyone is a like “don’t be a stranger, see yah soon,  BYEEEE” well, Keith found his family his entire legacy thing so…they  show all the support they can . BUt Lance, he cant believe Keith is quitting! now that is betrayal even so…he was the one who tell Keith to leave(him alone).

Keith disappears through the labyrinth with his mom and the Speculatores and the rest of the team is left to get to camp Jupiter and try to stop Lotor  before Kronos Army gets to Mount Othrys and free the titan Atlas.

__

BONUS DOODLE because you made till the end!

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR READING! you all deserve another golden star!!

Hope you are enjoying this story, also I think there is only one update left!!

and if you have ANY question, i am Happy to solve anything

and consider donating to my KO-FI, maybe???

Also, another pull through for @monthlyklance in their Klance AU Month

Disclaimer: 

SO YOU KNOW, the speculatores Augusti  existed and were distinguished by special secret boots, all is super secret and i thought it fitted perfectly to the Blade of Marmora.

I use Kronos even when referring to Romans because changing names too much confuses me :T

[saxonspud]

Chapter 3 - Bad Memories

When you finally arrived back at the camp, Arthur dismounted, and hitched his horse. Then he lifted you down.

With one hand, firmly clamped around the back of your neck, he escorted you over to a large tent.

Standing inside was Dutch.

He raised an eyebrow, "So, what did our little O'Driscoll girl do to get herself tied up again?"

"I ain't an O'Driscoll," you growled.

Arthur frowned, "well she kinda saved my life, then she tried to do a runner. Then I found this!"

Arthur turned you round and pulled up the back of your shirt, to reveal the scars on your back.

You tried to struggle, but with Arthur holding you fast, you had no chance.

"She wont tell me who did it either!" Arthur concluded.

"It ain't none of your business!" you hissed.

Dutch held the back of your shirt up and ran his fingers across the scars on your back. You flinched not because it hurt, but because of the memory of how they came to be there. You whimpered trying to bury the memory but failing

Dutch hummed, "well it weren't Colm, because if it was he'd have found out you weren't a boy!"

Dutch spun you round so that you were facing him, he gripped you by the shoulders.

"Who did this to you?" he demanded.

You looked down at the ground, you hadn't wanted anyone to see, least of all talk about it.

Dutch cupped your face in his hand, and tilted your head up. He looked you straight in your pale blue eyes.

"Kat! Who did this?" he demanded, his voice raised.

You felt tears pooling in your eyes. Not because you were scared, but because of the memory surfacing, which you had managed to keep at bay for the last two years.

Dutch nodded at Arthur, and you heard the ropes around you wrists being cut.

His other hand went to your face, so that your face was held by both his hands.

"Katrina!" He whispered, "I need you to tell me!"

A tear trickled down your cheek.

"Wh...Why do you care?" you asked, as a sob escaped your lips.

Dutch smiled gently, "I always care! I cared about Arthur, when he came to us at fifteen, when his daddy had been beating him. I cared about John, when he came to us at twelve, when the law wanted to hang him!"

One of his calloused thumbs wiped a tear from your cheek.

"I care about you Kat, because you need my help! I want to know who did this, and why you've been pretending to be a boy?"

You wanted to look away. You wanted to get away from this, someone pretending to care, making everything you had hidden for the last two years come bubbling back to the surface. You were supposed to be tough, you weren't supposed to cry.

More sobs escaped, and more tears trickled out your eyes, like the flood gates had been opened. All the emotion that you'd buried came out in that moment.

"M...My daddy did it!" You whimpered, between sobs.

Dutch wrapped his arms around you, one hand holding the back of your head, his fingers gently entwined in your messy blonde hair, the other gently rubbing your back.

He pulled your head into his chest.

"Its ok," he soothed, "we're gonna look after you now."

Dutch glanced at Arthur, "go and find Susan, we need to find somewhere for her to sleep tonight, and maybe a change of clothes."

Arthur nodded, "she can sleep in my cot, until Susan can sort something out."

Dutch nodded, and watched as Arthur left tent.

You weren't sure how long it was, before your tears and your sobs finally subsided. At some point, Dutch had guided you towards his cot, where you sat. When you pulled away he didn't stop you, but you couldn't look at him. He was supposed to be your enemy, yet he was the only one who'd given you any comfort in the last two years.

"How long have you been pretending to be a boy?" he asked quietly.

You looked at the floor, "a couple of years."

"Is that how long you've been with Colm's boys?" He asked.

You shook your head, "Only been with him about six months."

Dutch frowned, and gently put his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

"Why? Why would you pretend to be a boy for two years?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"M...my daddy. He never wanted a girl," you finally replied.

Dutch stared at you in disbelief. "Your daddy made you dress like a boy?"

You nodded, "kinda, he said I had to be a boy or a whore," your voice cracked, "I didn't wanna be a whore," you whispered.

Dutch sighed, "how old are you Kat?"

"Seventeen," you mumbled.

Dutch shook his head, he wanted to know more about this father of yours, but he didn't think now was the time to ask. He also wondered about your mother, but that could wait too. He wondered how much trauma you'd been through in your short life.

"C'mon, lets go and find you something to eat." he suggested, gently putting pressure on the back of your shoulder, urging you to stand.

You stood, realising once again how hungry you were.

Dutch guided you outside the tent, towards a table, where an older man was sitting.

"Kat, this is Hosea. Just sit there whilst I find you some food."

You sat down, and watched Dutch walk across the camp then you looked at Hosea.

"You look confused," Hosea stated.

You frowned, "I don't understand why he's being so kind"

Hosea chuckled, "We can tell when people need our help. You running with the O'Driscolls... Well I guess that's been the least of your problems."

You looked around the camp, there were a few people staring at you. Others were just going about their business.

"They don't like me. I don't blame them," you sighed.

Hosea went to put his hand on yours. You stared at your hand then at him.

He still smiled, "they don't know you, they're just being cautious, you are an O'Driscoll after all."

You sighed, "I ain't, but then nobody believes me anyway!"

You pulled your hand away, then put your head in your hands,

"Its pointless," you mumbled.

Dutch walked back over with a bowl in his hand, he'd overheard what you had just said.

He put a hand gently on your shoulder, you glanced up at him

"It's never pointless... now eat this!"

He placed the bowl of food in front of you.

You picked up the spoon and took a mouthful of the stew, after the first spoonful you started shovelling it in, your stomach wanting the food, faster than you could get it down your throat.

Hosea chuckled, "Slow down, Kat. There's more where that came from, if you need it."

You continued eating, but chewed the food savouring each mouthful.

Arthur walked across the camp to find Susan. He didn't know why he was feeling guilty, but he was. The way you had been treated so far. Mostly by him. He didn't know if it was because you were a girl, or because you'd been treated so badly. He tried to push the thought to the back of his mind.

When he found Susan she was busy hassling the girls to get on with some work.

"Miss Grimshaw, can I have some spare clothes for the O'Driscoll kid, and Dutch needs a tent setting up. She'll need somewhere to sleep!"

Susan frowned, "since when do O'Driscolls get to have a tent to themselves, and get a free change of clothes!" she huffed.

Arthur sighed, "since we found out she was a girl, and that she's been beat real bad. Probably other things too, but she ain't talking much."

Susan's expression softened slightly, "I don't have a magic wand Mr Morgan, I cant magic a tent out of thin air! I can help with the clothes though."

Arthur nodded, "if we can sort a tent out in the next few days, in the meantime she's gonna be sleeping in my cot, and a clean shirt and a pair of trousers will do her."

Susan frowned, "is that appropriate, a young girl sleeping with you?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, "I ain't gonna be sleeping in the cot too. I'll be on a bedroll. She ain't eaten or slept properly for nearly a week, poor kid."

Tilly glanced over and giggled, "never thought you'd be giving up your bed for an O'Driscoll! Still we thought she was a boy, not a girl."

Susan handed Arthur some clothes, "Does she need anything else?"

Arthur glanced at Susan, then at the three women who were sitting down with a basket of mending.

"Probably just a friend, if any of you are so inclined," he hesitated, "but for now just a good night sleep."

He tipped his hat, and headed back towards Dutch's tent. He wasn't sure how Kat would feel about sleeping in his tent. All he'd done so far was tie her up, and tackle her to the ground. Still, if she wanted to sleep in a decent bed, then she didn't have much choice.

After you finished your food, you just sat there staring blankly. Truth was you were thinking. Thinking about your past, thinking about your future. Trying to understand the people in the gang. Mostly Dutch and Hosea.

Neither of them had spoken much more to you, they had been chatting amongst themselves. You hadn't really paid any attention to what they'd said. You had pretty much zoned out.

You soon zoned back in when you heard Arthur's voice. He was pretty much the reason you were in this predicament.

"C'mon I'll show you where you're sleepin'" he stated.

You stared at him for a moment, until you heard Hosea laugh.

"Go on Kat, he wont hurt you!"

You weren't convinced, despite Hosea's assurances. Still it wasn't like you had much choice.

You stood up, and looked at Arthur. Your eyes narrowing slightly, and expression distrustful.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and ignored the way you flinched, when he put his hand on your shoulder.

His hand was more gentle this time, and he guided you rather than shoved you across the camp towards a tent. Well it was more of a lean to, as one side of it was the side of a wagon.

"Here ya go," he chirped. "You're on the cot, I'm on the bedroll."

You looked around, it was a lot smaller than Dutch's tent.

"I can sleep on the bedroll," you stated.

"You'll sleep where I tell you to sleep," he huffed, in annoyance.

You sighed, and sat on the edge of the cot.

Arthur sat beside you, and grasped your chin in his hand, pulling your head around so you were looking at him.

"Now listen to me, Kitten..." he began.

"Its Kat or Katrina," you hissed.

"You're too small to be a Kat, so I'm gonna call you Kitten," he chuckled, "I've no idea how you fooled Colm into thinking you were a boy, theirs nothing of ya!"

"I fooled you!" you huffed.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and shook his head, "that's beside the point, whilst you're in my care, you'll do as I say! Is that understood?"

You sighed, "yes Mr Morgan."

Arthur sighed, "it's Arthur, there's a change of clothes for the mornin'. Miss Grimshaw gave me a dress, but I told her a shirt and trousers would do. I don't reckon you're quite ready to be wearing dresses yet!"

"Thanks," you mumbled.

Arthur stood up, and looked at you. You were just sitting on the edge of the cot.

You gasped, as he grabbed one of your boots.

"Ya can't sleep in your boots now, can you?" He smirked.

He pulled off both of your boots, "go on now, lay down!"

You lay down on the cot, "don't get any funny ideas," you huffed.

Arthur picked up a blanket, and threw it over you, "That's the last thing on my mind, Kitten. Now get some rest."

"Its Kat!" You grumbled, as you closed your eyes.

Arthur just looked at you and smirked, before laying down on the bedroll.

It wasn't long before you drifted off to sleep. Exhaustion taking priority over the fact that you were sharing a tent with some strange cowboy.

[nekohooch]

real life bs under the cut

Im gonna vent and then make another post of positivity because i need that right now. My uncle called my mother and said outright that my sisters and I were not welcome at my grandfathers funeral because of a fight that happened 7 years ago before my grandmother died which he has not forgiven all of us as a collective for.

Disregarding completely that we were 22, 20, and 17 at the time and have grown in leaps and bounds since that time. The sister hes most mad at went to fucking therapy for 7 years and is a completely different person.

Hes pissed that at 22 I couldnt afford with my minimum wage job to fly down with 24 hours notice to go to my grandmothers funeral, a thing that haunts me to this day. hes pissed that E and B didnt fly from High School and College to go to the funeral when someone had to buy mamas ticket so she could say goodbye to her mama. hes so far up his own ass and so on his high horse that hes mad that over the past 7 years none of us has reached out to say sorry to him specifically even though he has never once responded to his own sister trying to talk to him. Because she never opened the convo with “im sorry” she didnt make an effort. Because we had no idea he WANTED an apology because he refused to speak to us!!!

If i never see this man again in my life after this funeral (if im allowed to go) it will be too goddamn soon. We knew we were probably not going to be allowed to stay with them at Papas house but to try and ban 3 of his 6 grandchildren entirely??? thats a new low for these people and they are the ones who basically tried to uninvite my mother from her mothers funeral. Get your head out of your 48 year old ass and act like a bigger adult than the 20 somethings you used to call your nieces.

how dare you try to destroy the legacy of love and acceptance my grandfather lived his life with.

I am so done watching my mother fight tooth and nail to just get a hint of respect from the people who are supposed to be her family. They didnt call mama until after grammy died, they didnt call mama two years ago when papa almost died and they only called her this time because a preacher friend of his asked my mother (who had no idea of the situation) how Papas surgery was going. then her brother called her to let her know what was going on because her sister refused to answer a text message.

He said he “let us say goodbye on the phone because we werent allowed to come to the funeral and he almost didnt do that”

im at a loss for words of how angry i am, how hurt i am.

im glad that mama got out of the range of those siblings of hers because they turn everything around them toxic with spite and bitterness.

I was telling Jeremy that when you dont talk to someone for a while it lends a softness to the memory like maybe you exaggerated it. But then things like this happen and you realize again that youre the nice ones.

and the worst part about it is im so goddamn empathetic i know hes fucking mad i know hes misplacing blame because he just watched his father die in front of him and it didnt sound pretty from his description and he needs someone to hate he needs an outlet for his anger. I know that. I know hes struggled with being emotional and hated when his emotions are out of his control. I KNOW. it doesnt make my pain go away. it doesnt take away the panic attack i had or listening to my mothers heart wrenching sobs when she got off the phone with him.

Shes the strongest woman I know and this is torture. She literally told someone last night when things were up in the air that she didnt know how to live in a world without him. Hes her Daddy. Hes one of the kindest, was one of the kindest, things in her life the peacemaker between his stubborn children the reason she takes the high road the person who taught her to love through the hurt. he was stubborn as hell but he loved so much. i cant believe hes gone. she said this morning she woke up and for a second thought it was a dream.

I think the hardest thing coming up for me is how to stand up for my mother without causing a fight. her sister hasnt talked to her since that fight and mama doesnt want to talk to her. I promised mama not to fight with people though. she cant handle it and will barely be able to keep it together.

SO i vent here. wish with every fibre of my being that I could rip his vocal chords out of his body so he cant say another goddamn holier than thou word to her or about us. Thank whatever being is watching over me that I never have to see these people again after this.