#Lucy seems so sweet and the fact that she was trapped there for so long after probably being attacked by her friends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik (2024)

Oh the entire scene by lake shimmerstone was so so beautiful. the presence of a miracle kristen cannot see. the silhouettes of these two saved souls reflected in twilight waters. lucy and yolanda holding hands as they walk out of the dark as cassandra said she’d be there to do. such an incredible moment

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Everyday prompts

I found some sweet prompts and thought I would write them for Hangman, Bob, Phoenix and Rooster so enjoy!

All credit for the prompts goes to the people that created them!

“You’re cute when you get angry.”-Hangman

The Hard Deck was filled with people, which was usual on a Friday night but tonight a whole group of aviators seemed to make even more noise. Your friends had been talking about them all night long, how handsome they were and how they could approach them.

“Alright, maybe if you fall and one of them helps you!”, Stacy says with a mischievous grin, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Lucy falling on purpose but also at the glare the girl in question was sending Stacy.

“Right, let me fall straight on my face and embarrass myself.”, she says sarcastically, and you laugh again as the image appears in your mind, but you try to stop as Lucy glares at you, a small smile on her lips.

You groan as you hear ‘Slow Ride’ being chosen again as a song and you roll your eyes.

“I am seriously going to murder the person who keeps putting that song on.”, you mumble under your breath and the two others laugh at your words.

“Don’t worry I know somewhere to hide the body.”, Lucy says while smirking.

“I watched every single episode of How to get away with murder so I’m a pro, could become your lawyer.”, the two-start planning how to hide the body, and how cutting up the body wasn’t the right idea.

“It’s good to know that you two are ready to do this, but I’m just going to change the song.”, you say, and the two girls groan in disappointment but matching grins on their lips tell you that they are glad to hear something else.

The jukebox is close to the pool table, and you don’t see the gaze of a handsome pilot on you as you arrive next to it.

You hesitate for a moment at what song to choose before you feel someone sliding up next to you.

“I would choose Slow Ride if I were you.”, a voice tells you and you turn around to see a blond man looking at you with a co*cky grin. You snort at his words, and he looks at you slightly surprised before a smirk appears.

“Please that song is a pain to everyone.”, you get ready to try and hit the button for the next song but before you are able to the blonde’s hand pushes the button for Slow Ride making you look at him with wide eyes.

“Seriously? Is listening to it ten times not enough already?”, you say, feeling irritated, more at the fact that this man was incredibly handsome with his co*cky grin.

“You’re cute when you get angry.”, he whispers, a seductive tone in his voice and he slowly approaches you making you blush, and you feel your back hitting against the jukebox. You try to find an answer but aren’t able to and the man’s smirks widens.

“What’s your name darling?”, the way he says the pet name makes you shiver, the southern accent definitely making you blush and slightly aroused.

“Put on another song and I’ll tell you.”, you tell him, and the man looks at you for a moment before he moves his arms on either side of you, trapping you against the jukebox and his strong body.

You are ready to ask what he thinks he’s doing but then you hear a Whitney Houston song, the one you had been eyeing. You can’t help but look at him surprised and his smirks widens.

“So, what’s your name.”, he asks again, and you tell him after a moment, and he seems pleased as you do.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”, even though you are definitely blushing at the words you can’t help but snort.

“You tell this to every girl cowboy?”, this makes him chuckle softly and you don’t how this man makes everything attractive.

“Only to the ones that deserve it.”, he says while looking you up and down and coming closer to you.

“And sweetheart, you definitely do.”, he whispers, and you look into his green eyes making your heart flutter.

“And what is your name?”, you ask, your voice slightly uneven at having him so close to you.

“Jake.”, he says, and you nod slowly, looking at him for a moment.

“So, what do you say of getting out of here and letting me buy you something to eat?”, his words caught you off guard, but you can’t help but nod at his words.

“Let me say goodnight to my friends and we can go.”, he nods in answer and a smile is on his lips.

Stacy and Lucy are squealing as you arrive, and you barely have time to tell them what is happening that they are pushing you outside to join him.

“Use protection!”, Lucy yells and you feel yourself getting beet red as the two giggle and Jake is smirking at them, before putting a soft hand on your back and leading you out.

Years later you hear Slow Ride again but this time you can’t help but laugh as your husband looks at you with a smirk and brings you into a searing kiss.

Person A and Person B getting sidetracked while grocery shopping– Bob

“Alright, Costco! We have our list, everything should go fine.”, you tell Bob, and he nods in answer looking at the shop entrance with a confident look.

“We survived the uranium mission, we can survive Costco.”, he tells you confidently and you nod in answer.

“Let’s do this!”, the two of you enter Costco and you try to focus on what you need, and not look at the rest around you.

You have nearly everything, the two of you smiling victoriously before a high-pitched voice stops you.

“Hi! Would you like to taste the new meatballs we have?”, she has a plate full of meatballs and the two of you try to say no but she pushes them under your noses and the delicious smell makes the two of you give in.

“This is good.”, you can’t help but say and the woman nods happily, Bob takes a pack of them, and you thank her.

“Alright just one time, that’s not too bad.”, you tell him and Bob nods in reassurance, looking around scared that someone was going to come out of nowhere.

You arrive near the cash register, and you think that you have done it until you see a woman arriving towards you with a plate.

“Do we run?”, Bob whispers, panicking and you nod slowly but as you turn around you see a man with a plate and the two of you groan.

“This is not going to work out for us, isn’t it?”, Bob asks, and you shake your head.

“We’ve lost this battle Lieutenant, but at least we can eat.”, this makes Bob laugh and bring you closer for a sweet kiss.

“So, what do you say we try these samples and then go and get a slice of pizza?”, he tells you and you can’t help but smile at the words.

“You read my mind.”, the two of you grin widely before starting to walk towards one of the people trying to look innocent before taking some food.

And if the two of you ended up with a lot more groceries, then you had to, you can’t help but smile as you are able to enjoy some time together.

Person A watching Person B teach their kid a new skill.– Rooster

It had been a long day at work, people running everywhere and acting like they knew everything better then everyone. You felt ready to fall asleep on your couch but as you had a two years old so it was going to be a bit more complicated.

The house was quiet as you entered it which was weird because usually Rooster was already home with Nick.

“Brad? I’m home.”, you say but you get no response, maybe they went to the park together, which makes it possible for you to take a warm shower.

As you walk up the stairs you hear some laughter from the office in the house and you hear some piano notes being played.

“Careful, now you need to do this.”, Nick is on Bradley’s lap, facing the piano while his father shows him how to play a melody on it.

He follows his father’s movement with his eyes and Bradley holds him close to his chest with his other hand.

“Alright, now your turn.”, Bradley whispers and Nick brings his little hand to the piano, trying to do the same thing as his father, but due to his smaller hands he seems to struggle.

A pout can be seen on his lips, looking like his father when he does that before Bradley laughs softly.

“Don’t worry you’ll get it, let’s try again.”, Nick nods slowly before trying it again, this time with Bradley’s help and you can’t help but melt at the sight of them.

After a minute or two he seems to get it and a bright smile appears on his lips before letting out a happy squeal, making Bradley laugh.

“You did it, so proud of you.”, you hear him murmur against Nick’s hair as he drops a few kisses on his hair before bringing him closer.

“Alright, why don’t we learn a little more so that we can show it to mum later?”, this makes Nick look at his father with excitement in his eyes and you can’t help but feel your heart melt at the sight before Nick turns back to the piano keys.

You close the door softly, knowing that the two of them needed some time just the two of them before they were ready to show you what they had prepared. In the meantime, a hot shower sounded nice.

Person A patching up Person B’s wounds.– Phoenix

“You don’t need to do that you know?”, Phoenix whispers softly and you look at her with raised eyebrows before dabbing her cut with some alcohol.

“I know, but I like to take care of you.”, you whisper and Phoenix blushes at your words, a shy smile appearing.

“Well, I have to admit that I like it more when you patch me up then the nurse.”, this makes you giggle, and she smiles brighter.

“Next time I’ll put a nurse outfit on if you want.”, Phoenix eyes widens, and you smirk at her reaction.

“Please do that.”, she tells you breathless and you can’t help but laugh at her excitement.

“I’ll do it next time, although I would prefer not to have to patch you up anymore.”, you say to her softly, knowing that she was in a career that was more dangerous than others. Her smile is understanding as you put on the band aid and kiss it softly.

“There you go, all new.”, you tell her happily and she smiles brightly.

“You can always just wear the outfit even if I’m not hurt.”, she says with a smirk, and you look at her with raised eyebrows.

“I shouldn’t have started about it, huh?”, she shakes her head and smirks before bringing you closer.

“I’ll order it for you.”, she gives you a quick kiss before you can even say anything, too much in shock.

“W-wait Nat!”, but she is already giggling at her computer, taking it away as you try to take it from her and she runs through the house, with you behind her while she orders it.

Once you finally manage to catch her you are out of breath, and a winning grin is on her lips as she looks at you above her.

“I have Amazon Prime it will be here in two days.”, she whispers happily, and you shake your head in amusem*nt, a fond look in your eyes.

“You are impossible once you get your mind on something.”, you whisper softly before bringing her into a heated kiss.

The nurse outfit does arrive two days later which makes Phoenix laugh loudly when you open it up.

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KELLY SEVERIDE

Skeletons and Whatnot.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author’s note: I feel like this is rubbish, but I also feel like it’s not. 50/50 (1.6K words - might come back to edit it tomorrow)

Also you can see how tired I am (it's 4:30AM) I mean what is this title??? GOOD NIGHT.

~

"That's not possible. Check again."

"But I already did! Like a million times!"

"Adam, I swear to God-"

"Alright, alright…" Your colleague mumbled, turning on his chair to run the data yet again.

While he sat on the chair, looking through files he didn't have a clue about, you were leaning against the wall and shaking in your boots. Your heart hammered and your palms felt clammy.

Not possible. I killed him.

"No look it says right there," Adam declared; proud of himself for being able to gather information like this on his own. "Some girl named Lucy Riggs pawned a gun she got off some guy named Jon Prescott.

You squinted your eyes at the information that made no sense. "Get to the point."

Adam visibly swallowed, "Turns out the guy's name isn't Jon. Shocker. It's actually Parker Torres."

Your blood ran cold at his words. A million thoughts raced through your head. You wondered where he was, what he was doing… The questions that evaded your mind are usually normal, but here, when you thought about the dark man of your past, the questions seemed to be anything but normal.

"What about the gun?"

Adam clicked away until a picture of a metallic gun popped out. "Smith & Wesson Model 64 revolver."

Next thing you knew, a chain of vulgar profanities escaped your mouth, and you couldn't stop them. Ruzek's eyes widened ever so slightly at your lack of composure. "Mind telling me what this all about?"

You took a deep breath. "My skeleton escaped the closet."

***

The lack of information you found within the last couple of days was mind blowing. The only lead you had was the gun that wasn't even in your possession, having gotten lost in a misfit of undocumented sales.

Lucy wasn't of help either. The poor girl just wanted to get rid of her husband's gun, saying everything but useful information along the way. "If he wants a gun, then he better get a good one… A new one too! I don't want that piece of garbage in my house. God only knows who used that gun!" Lucy told you, just 48 hours ago. Those exact same words.

She was right about one thing.

That dammed gun went through so many hands and took double more lives.

And you didn't even have a lead.

"You look like crap," Kevin Atwater teased, handing you a steaming cup of coffee.

You didn't even manage to smile, looking at him through your shades that were, so far, doing a great job at concealing the bags under your eyes from the world.

"Rough night?"

"Mhmm."

Kevin didn't know that you no longer lived with Kelly. The temporary solution to your problems turned out to be moving back to your own place. Putting Kelly in harm's way, no matter how much he thought otherwise, was something you didn't want to do. The comfort of his bed and body were replaced by a thin blanked and an uncomfortable dining chair.

Dozens of glass decorations were laid out all over your apartment. On every window still, next to every door… On every surface, really. You slept on the dining chair 5 yards from your front door with a pistol strapped to your back, a shotgun under the chair and a rifle wrapped around your two arms, acting as a teddy bear for every time you dozed off.

Friends from Interpol would call here and there, with nothing more than sad news.

Hank Voight was pulling out every contact from his little notebook, but not even they could solve your years long case.

You wanted to throw up.

"Hey Kev."

"What's up?"

"You still friends with that FBI agent?"

***

"Second floor clear," The grip on your radio loosened after the second you needed to inform your team about your situation had passed and you moved on upstairs. You could hear them respond in the same matter as you held your gun with both hands and carefully climbed up the stairs.

You didn't let a sound slip your lips as you trekked the stairs up to the very last floor, save for the attic. For a drug house, everything was eerily quiet. It didn't feel like someone left in a hasty hurry.

It felt like as though there was no one there in the first place.

Your need to report that to your Sergeant faded away quickly once you saw smoke. It seized your full attention within a few seconds.

Smoke grenade was your first guess. Nasty things but nothing new.

That was, until you took several steps closer and the smell of the source journeyed through your nostrils. It clicked in your head immediately. Three years of being a squad lieutenant's girlfriend can do that to you. The scent of fire is nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky, or something like leather being tanned over a flame. Thesmell of it canbe so thick and rich that it's almost a taste. Kelly's words rung in your head, and you pulled your radio to your mouth.

"Call CFD! There's a fire on the third floor!" You informed, shielding your eyes. "Stand down! I repeat –"

Things went black after those words.

***

"We have a detective trapped on the third floor," Voight informed the first responders. "That's where the fire started."

Wallace nodded, "Squad 3, take the third floor."

Unlike Wallace, who had found his source of information in Voight, Kelly Severide had found it in Jay, who stood on the street visibly stressed. "Jay where's Y/N?"

Jay frowned, "She went to scope ahead. She was on the third floor when the whole place just blew up…"

"She could be unconscious right now," Kelly muttered. "Squad 3 let's go!"

Kelly Severide was already in the burning building when Chief Boden found out just who was trapped upstairs. "Dammit."

***

"Y/N?!"

Kelly's patience was thinning by the second. Knowing that his time is limited and that the place could blow in a stronger matter at any moment, he paced toward your unconscious body expeditiously.

Noticing the angry streak of blood that came from your nose had his heart in his throat. You were twisted in a way not normal for a human body to be in, catching him off guard the moment he laid his eyes on you.

Despite all that, Kelly still swooped in to grasp your limp body in his arms.

The stress of the last few days he went through didn't come close to a match with this very moment. "I'm coming down chief!"

For a moment Wallace wanted to bark back, but he bit his tongue. Love makes people do crazy things.

He knew that better than anyone.

"Get the hoses ready!" Boden announced and turned to the Intelligence.

"She'll be okay."

***

You were okay.

Maybe even better than you thought possible.

"Kelly wake up."

You smiled cheekily at doctor Mannig, who stood by your hospital bed, waiting for Kelly to wake up with the same thin line of patience as you.

You woke him up with a slap to his shoulder.

Natalie was beaming, her eyes sparkled despite the fact that she was the doctor to the most heavily guarded patient in the whole city of Chicago. "I think congratulations are in order."

"What do you mean?"

She winked before handing you the tablet, "You're 11 weeks along Y/N. Congratulations you two."

You shook your head wildly and pressed a palm to your mouth, acting out what your defense mechanism wanted you to do. "Oh God…"

"Really?" Kelly asked next to you. He had already grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly, holding you to the ground of your new reality. "Are you for real?"

She nodded, "The tests don't lie. I'm so happy for you two."

Natalie hugged you both closely before disappearing back into the crowded ER.

"Hey," Kelly murmured, grasping your chin with his index finger and thumb. "What's wrong? You're not happy? I thought…"

You shook your head immediately, stopping him from saying something that was untrue. "No, Kelly… I'm really happy."

Two heartbeats within one body. Your body.

A child that was going to take after you and the man you loved most in this world…

You felt so incredibly lucky at that moment.

Yet so guilty.

"Our baby could've died today…"

Fresh onset of tears attacked your eyes, pushing through until the moisture was dripping down your face, and you tried to muffle the hiccups with your hands. Everything started to make sense.

"Baby you didn't know…" He tried to calm you.

You shook your head violently, dropping his attempts into the water. "I should've known better. We didn't use protection... Then I felt so sick last week."

"Y/N-"

"But I was so obsessed with Parker Torres that-" You couldn't even finish the sentence because the guilt turned into anger. "God I'm so stupid!"

"Babe, look at me," Kelly's voice hardened yet the hands with which he cupped your face were gentle and comforting. "You didn't know, so none of this is your fault. If you knowingly went in there that's when it would have been your fault."

He kissed your tears away and gave you the softest smile ever. "Do you want to have this baby with me? Because if you don't, we can…"

You stopped him with a kiss.

You were venerable in the moment of the kiss, yet you never felt more at home. In this kiss is the promise of years of love and the sweetness of life. No one mattered at that moment. Not Parker… Not anyone. Only you two and the vow you just shared.

The next few weeks will be hard, that much you knew. You were introduced to a new reality and priorities shifted. The hunt for your skeleton will continue in the hands of the people you trust most and as months go by the light will greet the darkness of your tunnel.

But the next few years, you see nothing but light and happiness.

No skeletons to torture your life, but a baby and a soulmate to make it better.

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MASTERLIST

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her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert.I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages. (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time.

folklorewas released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot.

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and f*cking Taylor Swift, she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be HerNebraska...That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking aboutfolklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “f*ck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

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the marble king, part 10 [read on ao3]

His wife had taken ill, a statement that was simultaneously the best and worst one Percy had ever thought up in his short, eventful life. It was the best, because of the simple fact that Anja Elisabet Fredriksdotter was his wife. At night they shared a bed, and during the day they shared each other’s company. Though she did not love him, and had only married him in a bid to, rather ironically, retain her freedom, she wished for him to stay at her side, and he was blessed with her presence in turn.

Yet it was also the worst, because Annabeth, the love of his life, had taken ill.

He worried for her constantly; her pain was his pain, and the thought of something happening to her was simply unthinkable. Consumed with anxiety, he did what he always had done since they had been children, and he was overwhelmed by the magnitude of his own feelings. When he found her throwing up over the side of the boat for the fourth morning in a row, he swallowed his fears, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“The sea never used to affect you this strongly.” Percy teased, even as he rubbed at her back. “What would all the other shieldmaidens say if they could see you now?”

She only groaned in response. He offered his handkerchief as she made to whip her mouth on her cloak. Once she was cleaned, she exhaled, leaning against him.

“And to think, your father told me your family was descended from an Aesir sea god,” Percy continued, offering his own sea strength to steady her.

“Vanir,” Annabeth said. “We are descended from a Vanir god, who in turn was descended from a sea god.” Percy only had the vaguest idea of what that meant, based on Alejandra’s stories, but he so loved to hear her correcting him once more, even when she was feeling poorly, for it meant she was still herself.

“Regardless, the sea flows through your veins, Anja,” he jested, tone light. Many of these northern words felt odd in his mouth, but he loved to speak her given name. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“That neither Frey nor Njord were gods of motherhood,” she moaned.

His thoughts stuttering, he frowned at her for several long seconds. “Motherhood? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything, phykios.” She groaned, her head resting on his shoulder, and her hand going to her stomach.

Like fog dissolving in the morning sun, the meaning came to him, quickly and suddenly. But surely it could not be so; they’d only laid together once.

Gently, terrifyingly, he placed his hand on top of hers, over her belly. He could not sense a difference through her clothes. “You are pregnant?” Percy whispered. He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

“Yes.”

Percy felt tears prick his eyes. Were he less in control of his feelings, he would have taken her by the hand, lifted her up, and spun her around in elation. “You are with child?”

“I am,” she confirmed. Pulling back from him a bit, she looked at him, eyes keen and discerning. “Do you mind?” Her words were mild, yet in her tone, he could sense just the barest hint of trepidation, of fear of disapproval.

“Mind!” He laughed, a few of his tears escaping. “Of course not!”

Energy surging through his limbs, he nearly stood up and began to dance. Annabeth, his wife, his truest companion from his earliest days, pregnant with his child! They were to have a family together! How could he not be so elated, when this was every dream of his come true?

But then, he then realized, while children had been his most secret desire, it had not, necessarily, been hers. It had not even been the point of their marriage. Annabeth had married him for freedom from; to be trapped in motherhood, tied down with a child, may have been the very thing she hoped to avoid. “Are,” he swallowed, suddenly afraid, “are you very displeased?”

“Displeased? I…” She held his gaze for a long moment, looking on him with wide, uncertain eyes, and then shook her head. “No. As long as you are not unhappy, then neither am I.”

“I am happy,” he said quickly. “I am very, very happy. Ever since dear, sweet Esther was born, I always imagined myself to be a father one day. I simply thought it would be impossible.” Demigod lives, particularly those of his more immediate, more powerful peers, were short and bright and violent--to say nothing of his financial situation. As well, there was that fact that he had had a difficult time dreaming of children who had not been mothered by Annabeth.

“So you are not upset,” she asked again, seeking confirmation.

“I am most certainly not upset,” he promised her.

He was ecstatic. His whole self felt lighter, happier, better than it had in years, and not just since the fall of their city, but several years before that, at least. Annabeth, his wife, his great love, building a family with him… it had been a dream far too fragile to speak of. And now it had come true.

Her unsure expression, however, caused him to temper his outward reflection. Just as he opened his mouth to question if she required anything, she once again leaned over the edge of the boat, and vomited into the sea below.

“There, there,” he said, rubbing at her back, making sure to keep her cloak and dress, billowing in the wind, out of the way so it would not get dirty. “Come, sit.” he said, after she had caught her breath, submitting to his guiding her to a bench. “Can I get you anything?”

She waved off his offer, eyes closed against the salt spray. “These are normal parts of pregnancy, I am given to understand. When I spoke with the cook at my cousin’s house, her warnings made me fear it would be worse than it has been.”

His jaw dropped. “You knew before we left your family?”

She glanced at him, a little scathing. “A woman knows these things, Percy.”

Of that, he had no doubt--but that was not the issue here. “It cannot be safe for you to travel like this.” His earlier fear gripped him, curling cold fingers around his heart. He looked out at the sea around them, the breadth of his father’s domain now transformed into a dark, terrible labyrinth, where dangers lurked about every corner. “You should not have left your cousin’s house.”

“You were going to leave me there,” she accused.

“No, I--” he began to argue, before cutting himself off. She was correct, of course, though not for the reasons she assumed, and sadly, there was no good manner in which he could explain why, not without divulging all the secrets of his heart, and causing her more discomfort. “I wanted--I want you to have as happy and comfortable and challenging a life as possible. I had thought you would find that among your family and the politics of the Kalmar Union, but, I swear, if you had told me of the baby, I would have chosen differently.”

Happily he would have tolerated the strange food and horrid climates of Svealand forever for her sake, for his family’s sake. He thought once again of the parade of little girls dressed as Saint Lucy, then imagined his own daughter, with Annabeth’s blonde curls and grey eyes, joining it. His heart skipped a beat in his chest.

“We are not so far from your family, and a long way off from Italy,” he said. It would be a simple enough task for him--he did not even have to inform the captain. “We can still turn back, so you might have your confinement and give birth in all comfort.” Her father and Magnus would want nothing more than to take care of her in her condition, and she would far more likely welcome their concern than his.

“We are going to Italy,” she said, mouth set.

“But if you are unwell--”

“I am fine,” she snapped. “We are going to Italy, and there we shall have our child. Does that thought upset you?”

So caught off guard by her tone, he almost missed the most delightful and pleasing combination of words to ever exist: our child . His and Annabeth’s child. The most precious gift he had ever received, the dream of a lifetime.

“It does not,” he said, though he could not entirely quiet his internal concern. “If it is what you wish-- what you truly wish--then we shall continue on to Venice.”

They held each other’s gazes for a moment longer, imparting such thoughts and feelings as neither of them could understand. Then she smiled, beautiful, yet somehow sad. “Surely,” she said, “you wish to raise your child on the shores of your father’s sea.”

She knew him far too well, for he could not deny the appeal.

Then, all of a sudden, he was gripped by an overwhelming fear: Annabeth was with child . Even the most formidable fighter could only do so much while burdened with carrying another life. He remembered how his mother, heavy with little Esther, struggled to walk to and from the local market. What if they should come across another band of cruel bandits? What if she should hurt herself on the road to Italy, or if Percy should find himself injured or ill, unable to help her or protect her?

Seemingly from nowhere, a small bundle of white fur appeared at their feet, and the little cat jumped up beside them, giving a perfunctory sniff to the fabric of Annabeth’s dress before climbing on top of her, pressing her paws back and forth on her thigh the way Percy’s mother used to prepare her bread. Satisfied, then, she walked in a circle before settling down for her midmorning nap, tucking her paws beneath her body.

Admittedly, Percy had been somewhat skeptical of the cat, which Annabeth had taken to calling “Freya.” He liked animals, cats as well as dogs equally, and cats did seem to take a special liking to him. He remembered fondly the many cats of Constantinople following him after a hard day’s work, looking up with expectant eyes as they sweetly begged for part of his daily catch, then absconded with his discards into the dark city alleyways. So while he did not mind Freya’s presence, she seemed to distinctly prefer his wife, sticking to Annabeth’s side like a burr on cloth, laying ownership to her lap, sometimes hissing at strange people who got too close.

Percy could sympathize, on several points.

From Danzig, then, he decided, they would set out on the Via Imperii . Were it yet summer, perhaps they could have sailed the whole way to Venice, but he feared the might of spring storms, and would not risk her life, nor their child’s, for something as intangible as expediency. He remembered well, too, how their voyage upriver had sapped him of his strength until he had been unable to do naught but sleep; to exert himself to exhaustion on the open sea, miles away from any shore or safe harbor, could prove even more disastrous.

Immediately, Annabeth’s hands descended on the cat, scratching the underside of her chin with one while the other stroked the length of her back, and Freya purred, loud enough Percy could hear it even over the crashing waves, blinking her eyes sleepily back up at her. His wife smiled, quite taken with their furry companion.

There was so much more at stake now, he realized. Not just his own health, nor hers, but the health and safety of the life they had made together. In his heart, he swore on a river whose name had once struck fear into the hearts of men and gods alike, he would work every day to prove himself worthy of this woman who made such sacrifices for his sake.

Aloud, he merely said, “Thank you.” Two words which could not encompass all the gratitude he held for her. Were he able to pay her back its weight in gold, she would be the richest woman in the world.

Annabeth cast him a fond, if tired, look, her countenance still vaguely green. “Do not thank me yet,” she said. “I am told that it gets much, much worse.”

“I look forward to it,” Percy replied, turning his face into the sun.

***

He had hoped that Annabeth’s sickness would lessen once they returned to dry land. But after three days traveling through Pomerania , she was still sick in the mornings.

“Your child preferred the sea, methinks.” Annabeth said as Percy passed her water. She smiled her thanks and drank deeply. “But it could be much worse, I suppose. I’ve heard it said that many people feel the sickness all day, for weeks. Mine is, at the very least, limited to the earliest morning hours--and you have been most accommodating.”

With their not inconsiderable fortune, Percy had managed to procure for them a cart and a horse, so that they could keep up a lively pace while allowing Annabeth to rest as much as she required. “I have not been accommodating,” Percy protested. “You are with child.” My child , he did not say, but thought it, giddily. “It is the very least that I could do.”

“Well, regardless,” she said, “it is very appreciated.” Then she groaned, dropping her head forward.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching out a hand to steady her.

“Have we any more food? I am ravenous.”

They did, because Percy wished to spare no expense on his wife and hopeful daughter. And besides, it was Annabeth’s money, they should spend as much on her comfort as needed. They’d left the inn early in the morning, but he had gotten them some bread and hard cheese before they had begun the journey. “Here, have the rest,” he said, handing them to her.

But she pushed the parcel away. “No, no, have we anything else?”

He did not, but he would not let himself fall into a panic. “When we arrive in Stettin ,” he promised, “I shall purchase whatever it is you desire. Tell me, if there were anything in the world that you could have, what would it be?”

Whatever she needed, he would do his best to provide: that was the vow he had taken, and this was merely his first challenge.

Thoughtful, she looked towards the clouds, her lip between her teeth.

“...Olives,” she said. “I would be very happy for some olives.”

Percy laughed. Of course. Athena’s proclivity for the fruit was renowned. “Then olives it is, my lady.”

It was a simple enough task, on the surface, to procure some olives for his pregnant wife. As a child living on the shores of the great Roman lake, olives had been plentiful and ubiquitous; at the agoge , the children of Demeter and Athena had cultivated a small grove of olive trees, partially for their own use, but also to sell at market. Though there had been neither olives nor olive oil in Svealand, as it was far too expensive to import from so far South, Percy assumed that he would be able to locate some here on the continent. Stettin was the Northernmost city on the Via Imperii , and surely some of the stuff must have wound its way through the lands controlled by the Legion.

Day after day, town after town, any time they passed through a settlement, they stopped at market so that Annabeth could rest, and Percy could scour the stalls and alleys for olives--and day after day, town after town, he found none. Not a single hamlet between Danzig and Stettin carried the malakes fruit. Every day he would return to his wife empty handed, and every day she would smile at him, her eyes shining, and thanked him for trying.

Her cravings continued. He could sense it, the way he could sense a storm, her mood souring as the days dragged on.

They stayed an extra night in Stettin to let the horses rest. It was a Monday, the start of a fresh, new week, the day the merchants and farmers brought in their weekly produce. Surely, Percy thought, perhaps foolishly, surely a market of such a large city would have even a small bottle of olive oil? What civilized city did not have a healthy supply of the stuff? Rome had once spanned nearly the entire continent; the well worn roads were proof of it. Surely, they had left some sort of culinary mark.

Apparently, he was a fool. The only oil to be found was made from pumpkin seeds--a favorite of some of the members of the Legion. He knew it to be bland, tasteless, and not at all fit for his wife. As for the olives, the merchants all looked at him as though he had grown a second head, those who understood a little Italian anyway, for those who could not merely stared at him as he fumbled his way through the few Frankish words which he knew.

He felt oddly numb, returning to their accommodations empty-handed. Would she be disappointed? Would she regret leaving the comfort and security of Svealand, where all her needs had been provided for?

Yet she had merely shrugged, brushing her hair with the comb that she had pilfered from Alejandra. “It is no great hardship,” she said, a little distantly, as all her attention was focused on the task in her hands. “I shall survive without it.”

On their bed, Freya the cat yawned, very sweetly, before readjusting her position, standing up and walking in a circle, then settling down and returning to her slumber.

“Still,” said Percy, “I recall the many trials and tribulations which my mother endured before she had borne my sister; if there is something which I can do to ease your burden at all, I should very much like to do so.”

Sighing sharply through her nose, Percy tensed, fearful that she would refuse him outright out of pride, only for him to relax as she merely tugged her comb through a particularly stubborn knot of hair. His fingers twitched in the folds of his clothes, his very nerve endings alight with the mere thought of feeling the soft, golden strands for themselves. He felt, somewhat worryingly, as though he had begun to develop a minor obsession with the feeling of her hair, every time it brushed up against his skin as she moved against him on the cart, or rolled over towards him in their shared bed. To watch her daily ritual, an act so tired and uneventful to her, yet one so captivating to him, with such eagerness and attention would have seemed, on any other man, to be the mark of ill-temperament and evil tidings. Percy, however, was able to content himself with merely looking.

“In truth,” she said, “it is not the olives themselves which I crave, though there is not much I would not do for such a treasure. Just as your child preferred the sea, I can only assume that my current propensity for salt is your doing as well.”

“Salt?”

“Salt,” she confirmed. “Any salty food will do, I think.”

“Salt,” he repeated, suddenly thoughtful. Salty foods were certainly in great supply here in the North; now a whole new world had been opened to him. Then--”You believe that I am the cause of this?” he asked, frowning.

Indelicate, she raised a brow at him. “Are you not? Why else would I have such a craving for saltwater?”

“I thought you wished for olives.”

“Olives?” She made a face. “I think not.”

Percy blinked, feeling as though he had missed a vital step in their conversation. “I beg your pardon?”

Huffing, she threw her comb down, evidently done with her grooming for the night. “Never you mind! I wish to retire.” She stood, undoing the various ties and laces of her dress, while Percy stared at her in slack-jawed awe and confusion. “Go and… cavort with a young man, if one should make himself available to you.”

Then throwing back the covers of the bed, disturbing poor, sweet, Freya, who leapt to the floor, her ears turned back in displeasure, she climbed underneath them, turning away from Percy.

It was barely evening. The sun could still be seen from the window.

“I… very well,” he said, carefully. “If it please you, I shall go and fetch us some food.”

“Do whatever you wish,” she replied, muffled by the sheets. “Good night.”

Feeling very much as though he had just summoned, and then subsequently banished, a hurricane, Percy retreated from their rented room, shutting the door as quickly and quietly as possible so as not to disturb his wife.

That was… unusual.

Not, the constant, shifting hunger pangs, mind; his mother had had similar, if perhaps less intense, culinary desires which could turn on a lira at any given moment. In truth, there was much about pregnancy for which he had already been prepared, having assisted his mother in the arrival of his little sister. When a woman was suffering such emotional and mental torment, it was best not to argue with her, and to placate her as quickly and thoroughly as one could, something which Percy was more than happy to do. No, what was strange was her peculiar comment, her order for him to go and seek out the company of someone else--of another man.

To abandon his wife for the pleasures of another was unthinkable, and not in the least because his spouse just so happened to be, in a bizarre twist of fate, the great love of his life. Again, he recalled how his mother would occasionally spit curses at her loving husband for the most minor of infractions, so the fact that Annabeth, who had tied herself to him in order to escape the pressures of an uncaring, unfamiliar political snare, who had, presumably, not gone into the arrangement expecting or even desiring of a child, and who, historically, had only barely tolerated his presence, was to be expected.

That she had specified he should search for the company of another man was the odd detail in this situation.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him how he had not eaten since this morning, so consumed was he in the hunt for olives, and so he made his way downstairs to the ground floor of the inn, to purchase some dinner for himself--and for Annabeth also, who would almost certainly be ravenous when she awoke, and hopefully, in something of a happier mood.

***

They had picked up a fellow traveler in the city of Lipsi , who had warned them off continuing further down the Via Imperii . “Many wars,” he had said, “much fighting--it would not do for your lovely wife to be caught up in all of that.”

As much as Percy wished to protest, that Annabeth was more than capable of handling herself, even in such a state, she had been so fatigued as of late that he did not wish to risk her safety. Therefore, himself, Annabeth, and the traveler, an itinerant monk named Johann, turned West instead, along the Via Regia . The detour would not put them too far off--once they reached the city of Trever , they could then turn South, towards Basler , and continue through the valley.

Percy and Annabeth had come upon the man as he rested by the side of the road, his curiously shaven head something of a beacon in the dark, green forest. Though Annabeth had initially protested, Percy, being in possession of a horse cart, felt offering him assistance would have been, at least, the polite thing to do. Now they sat all three of them in the front of the cart, Percy in the center with Johann to his left, while Annabeth alternately dozed off, attended to her knitting, a blanket in the making, or stroked sweet little Freya, who had become ever more protective of her mistress’ growing belly.

He was an interesting man, this Johann, pleasant and good-natured. He had embarked on a cross-continental journey of his own, one which ranged from his hometown of Cölln , all the way to the resting place of St. James in Hispania . “Fifteen hundred miles,” he said, ruefully, in perfect Italian, “and I am the poor fool who twists his ankle barely out of his own door.”

“Lady Fortuna must pass us all over some time,” said Percy.

“On the contrary,” said the monk, “your presence is proof of her blessing.”

Perhaps it was his joviality, or perhaps it was the warm sun, beating down on them, wrapping Percy in comfort, but he was in a merry mood as well. “I would have thought you to say that all blessings came from the Lord.”

“And who is to say He did not send you to me, miserable thing that I am?” said Johann. “There is a story I heard once, of a man who found himself in a lake. A pious, devoted man, he had only the utmost, unwavering faith in our Lord, faith that He would deliver the man from the waters before he drowned. Well, by and by, a man comes up to him in a canoe. ‘Sir,’ says the sailor to the man, ‘there is space in my vessel here; climb aboard, and I shall bring you to land.’ But the man refuses, saying, ‘I have faith in the Lord. He shall save me.’ And the sailor goes on. Not long after, another man comes up to him, in yet another canoe. ‘Sir,’ says the second sailor, ‘I have come to rescue you, for the waters are bitter cold, and my wife has a warm fire and a dry bed reserved for your use.’ But once again, the man refuses, saying, ‘I shall remain, for the Lord shall see me through.’ Well,” Johann shrugged, the corners of his lips tugging in a smile, “predictably, this poor, pious man drowns after some time. A person of deepest faith, he arrives at the gates of Heaven, whereupon he is given an interview with our Lord Christ, and he asks, ‘my God, my God, I had unwavering faith in your infinite mercy. Why did you not deliver me from the watery depths?’”

Clearly a practiced storyteller, he paused, a silence which begged to be filled by his audience. “And?” asked Percy. “What did he say?”

“At this question, our Lord Christ shakes his head, and says to the man, ‘My child, there was not much more that I could have done, for you refused the two boats which I sent to you.’”

Percy couldn’t help it--he laughed. “I daresay,” he said, “I have never met a man of the cloth so jovial as you.”

“That is what sunlight does to a man,” said Johann, full of good humor. “My brothers may think they have the better of it, sheltered from wind and rain with their books, but to cage me within four walls was anathema to my entire being, for I have always had a singular talent for making things grow. Did not all of creation begin in a garden? Thus, the gardener is a blessed man indeed.”

“Indeed,” he chuckled, a little uneasily. That Percy and Annabeth were not, strictly speaking, devotees of the trinity, and did not quite understand the finer details of the faith, had not quite come up in conversation yet. He sincerely hoped Johann would not ask.

“But you did not tell me your destination,” said the monk, looking on them both eagerly. “What calling of yours caused our two paths to intertwine?”

Percy glanced towards Annabeth, who had decided to ignore their sudden companion altogether, in favor of observing the trees as they passed. “My… wife and I are on our way to Venice.”

Such a simple phrase, “my wife,” yet Percy could not think of another combination of syllables which had ever given him nearly the same kind of joy.

“Venice, eh? That is quite the journey. Are you on a pilgrimage as well?”

“Ah, no--well--” Though, he considered, were they not? They went to seek spiritual enlightenment of a sort in a far off land. Did that not count as a pilgrimage by any standard? Certainly not in the sense which the good monk was implying, yet nonetheless, it was indeed a pilgrimage. The only difference was that they were not at all certain their destination held the answers which they sought. “We are hoping to… find our fortune there.”

Johann looked him up and down, and then at Annabeth. “Your fortune?” He asked. “I must commend you, sir, for you do not look like you need another one.”

Feeling the telltale flush in his cheeks, he glanced once again towards Annabeth, who, strangely, acted as though she hadn’t heard his comment. He was correct, of course, but Percy was not certain if he appreciated other men saying so--even a man of the cloth.

But the monk continued. “Venice is supposed to have one of the most magnificent cathedrals in all of Christendom: the Chiesa d’Oro . They say it is modeled on the great St. Sophia of Constantinople--of course, I have never seen it myself, so I cannot verify such a claim.”

Even the thought of St. Sophia, of her golden domes and radiant light, made Percy’s heart ache for home--a home to which he could never return. “St. Sophia was a masterpiece to behold,” said Percy, a little wistfully. “I am hard-pressed to imagine another temple quite as awe-inspiring.”

With a little thrill in his gaze, Johann leaned in, closer to Percy. “You have beheld the Church of the Holy Wisdom for yourself? Is it as beautiful as they say?”

“More than that, sir, there is no other place quite like it. To tell you truly,” he said, chuckling a little, “my wife and I both hail from Constantinople.”

For a moment, Annabeth looked up and over at him and their companion, narrowing her eyes, but then she just frowned and went back to her knitting.

Johann frowned as well, though more confused than upset, unlike his wife. “From the city itself, you say?”

Percy nodded.

“Then, if I may be so bold, how have you found yourself in these parts? Unless I am very much mistaken, one does not usually feel the need to travel to Saxonia on one’s journey to Venice from the holy lands.”

“Not usually, no,” said Percy. “However, the two of us, we were…” He paused, uncertain of how much information he was willing to share with this virtual stranger. “I was stationed on the walls,” he said. “We fled the city just as the Ottomans broke the siege, then traveled North, to her cousin’s estates.”

“I see,” said the monk. “You were deep in the thick of it, then?”

The all-consuming flames and the blood-curdling screams of his memory, they faded more and more each day, as all battles did, for he was a soldier first and foremost, and war tended to blur together after a point. By contrast, sometimes he still awoke in a cold sweat, drumbeats in his ears as he relived the terror and panic of watching the gods flee the city in which they had dwelt for a thousand years, no more powerful than a crop of refugees. “Yes,” he said. “We were.”

Johann hummed, linking his hands together. “The loss of life is always a tragedy,” he said, “even that of a heretic. Alas, that the city of Constantine fell so far from grace that they had to be punished so!”

Percy shifted, uncomfortable.

“Yet,” he went on, still in that same, blasted, affable tone, “even in the face of great sorrow, there is cause to celebrate, for the Lord saw fit to spare you and your wife, and see you to safe harbors, no?”

He glanced towards Annabeth, who continued at her weaving, seemingly unaware of the monk’s comments. “Well, I--”

“If you will permit me, sir, let me bless your wife and unborn child, so that he or she may grow strong and pious in the loving embrace of the Lord.” And he opened his hands, all set to begin his little ritual.

With a thought, Percy pulled their cart to a stop, suddenly, bracing an outstretched arm against Annabeth so she would not be knocked forward. Freya, jolted from her mid-morning nap, mewed, pitiful. “Percy,” said Annabeth, in their own tongue, “what--”

“This is where we part ways,” said Percy to the Christian man. “Disembark, and quickly.”

He sat, slack-jawed. “I beg your pardon?”

If Percy had been more in control of his emotions, then he may not have uttered his next words. However, later on, he found he did not regret them. “My wife and I are not interested in blessings from your trinity gods.”

“My--” he sputtered. “You--”

“I will not repeat myself--you are no longer welcome to travel with us.”

His pale skin flushed with anger, the monk chose not to argue with him, but did disembark, as though he could no longer bear their presence. “Heathen,” he hissed. “The Lord knows your heart, and for your lack of faith, He shall smite you down to the depths of the underworld.”

Possessed of a fury he did not know he could feel, Percy drew himself up to his full height, reaching deep within himself to the core of his being, the part of him which could summon typhoons, slay monsters, and cause the very earth beneath them to split--the part which could more than terrify a simple fool. “And there we shall be welcomed as heroes,” he said, “for we personally know the lord of the dead himself.”

White with terror, the monk touched his face and shoulders, chanting Latin beneath his breath. Leaving him to it, Percy snapped the reins on the horse, and they took off once more, leaving Johann in the dust.

Annabeth, twisted around in her seat, peered back at the retreating figure of their one-time travelling companion. “Do not mistake my confusion for disappointment,” she said, “for I, too, am glad to be rid of him, though I must say, that was very suddenly done.”

Percy scoffed, twisting the reins between his fingers, something with which to ground himself. “Had I known what he would offer,” he nearly growled, “I would have expelled him sooner.”

Curious, she tilted her head. “What offer was so odious as to force him from your sight?”

Blinking, Percy turned towards her. As always, his heart raced at the sight of those grey eyes on him, though at this moment they were wide in innocent confusion. Percy frowned. He had thought she was a better listener than he, on most occasions. “His offer to bless us in the name of his lord.”

Her eyes widened. “Is that what he said?”

“Did you not hear him?”

“I did,” she huffed, annoyed. Again. She seemed often annoyed with him these days. “But as I cannot understand Italian, clearly I missed a few things.”

She--”You--what?”

Lips pursed, heat rushed to her cheeks, though she did not let up on her steely stare. “Yes?”

“You cannot speak Italian?”

“I have just told you so.”

“But--” Percy sputtered. “But--how did you--how did you take orders from your commander?”

The Venetians and the Genoese had comprised most of the command posts on the wall and had not bothered to learn the local language for themselves. Knowledge of Italian, therefore, had been crucial to the defense of the city, something Annabeth would certainly have known.

“My commander was a fool and a drunkard,” she said, turning her nose up, “and perished one night after he fell off the wall.”

“Then… who--” But he stopped himself before he could finish his question, for there was only one reasonable answer. “You took command of your unit.”

“Obviously.”

“And none of your men took issue with a woman leading them into battle?”

Her stern gaze transformed into a glare, narrowed and piercing. “Not when it guaranteed them victory.”

For a moment, Percy could do nothing but stare right back, in disbelief and incredulity. She must have led her little cohort for months, the warrior woman of Constantinople, Areia made flesh. No wonder the northern portion of the wall held for so long.

Then, out of nowhere, he laughed.

“And what, pray tell, is so amusing?” his wife asked, lips thin, brow furrowed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he chortled. He could not say from where such delight had come, nor why it had suddenly taken him over thus. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that, no matter how much time had passed, Annabeth’s character remained remarkably consistent from the first day he had known her. She would always find a way to command, to control--and, save one obvious exception, to deliver victory. “Oh, Anja,” he said, fondness warming him up from the inside out, “I beg of you, do not ever change.”

“I shall endeavor not to.” She said, faintly. She seemed at a loss for words for several moments, a rarity with her, then spoke once more. “You… you called me Anja.”

Percy frowned, “I know I struggle with your northern tongue, did I not pronounce it correctly?” He had attempted to divine the subtleties in the difference between the Ana that he had always known her to be, and the Anja her family called her, but perhaps he had been mistaken.

“No.” Softly, sweetly, a smile curled the straight lines of her mouth, even as she turned her face out to watch the trees as they passed, raising a hand to rest delicately on her stomach. “You were perfect.”

***

Percy laid out his cloak over the smoothest rock he could find. It was a nice cloak, of a much higher quality fabric and weave than to which he was most accustomed. Had he been a smarter man, most likely he would not have used the garment for such a task as this--but he was used to his clothes being worn out, multipurpose things. The hot velvet could find another use as a blanket until the warmth of early summer passed them by.

Having prepared her seat, he then rushed back to the wagon, reaching his hand out for Annabeth to steady herself on it. “I am not an invalid,” she chided, stretching her leg down to the earth. “You do not have to take such precaution with me.”

“It is no trouble.” The days, slowly but surely, were getting longer, Helios’ chariot lingering for a few more minutes every evening. They could certainly afford to stop and rest for a while should she require it. Once she had revealed to him her condition, he had resolved to mold the pace of their journey to her level of comfort and satisfaction. To ensure her health and the health of their child, Percy could stand a few unexpected delays.

Supporting her with his arm, he led her to the makeshift seat of stone, situated in a patch of sunlight bracketed by the shadows of the trees behind them. With an adorable little grunt, her sweet face scrunched up, she sat down upon it, sighing in relief. “There,” she breathed, hanging her head. “That’s better.”

The town of Trever was still a little ways off, but they could still see the rise of the town walls over the rolling hills. He noted, with some displeasure, the towering spindle resting on top of the ancient gate--was there nothing these trinity men would not claim for themselves?--but chased the thought from his mind, focusing instead on the more pressing issue at hand. “What is wrong?”

She had not explicitly told him why they should stop, only that she was desperate for relief of some kind. Rather than push for a reason, he had chosen instead to indulge her. “Some water, please?” she asked, her face drawn.

Nearly tripping over himself, he leapt up onto the wagon to retrieve the water skin before delivering it to her, kneeling down before her. “Are you alright?” he asked again, hiding his concern as best he could. She did not like him to fret so much over her--not that she could stop him.

“I am fine,” she promised. “Your child is just--very active.”

His heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

She nodded. “Here--feel.” Then, without hesitation, she grasped his hand, and placed it over her stomach.

Percy, by design, had refrained himself from touching her in any manner that was not explicitly one of acquaintanceship since that wonderful, terrible night, not in any meaningful way. In turn, she had not, precisely, refused his company, but had kept him at something of a distance, emotionally if not physically, likely for his own protection. But now she had initiated contact, had invited him in, and Percy was once again caught up in the sublime experience which was being close to Annabeth Fredriksdotter. Her hair, nearly twice as long as it was when they had arrived in Svealand, was bound up in an intricate knot, though loose, gilded strands fell out here or there, as she had left her head uncovered today, insisting that it was too hot for her wimple. Percy understood that it was key to her modesty as a married woman to cover her head, even if she was married to the likes of him, though he could not pretend he did not dislike it, at times. If only she would look at him, though, grace him with her lovely gaze, rather than their joined hands.

So distracted by the sunlight filtering through her hair that he nearly missed it.

A small, nearly imperceptible jolt beneath his fingertips.

Then he felt it again.

He recognized the feeling--it was one he recognized from when his mother was pregnant with his dear, sweet little Esther. “Is that…” he said, trailing off, softly so as not to disturb the moment.

“That,” said his wife, jovial, “is the little monster which has been causing me so much distress recently.”

Swallowing, he blinked back the sudden heat from his eyes. “Oh,” he said, pulling his emotions together so he did not weep. “I am sorry.”

“As you should be,” she said, but she was grinning at him. “Your child is kicking me in the ribs--a skill I am quite certain he got from you.”

He . She thought they were going to have a son.

Something in her smirk riled an old part of his brain. “Kicking was always your maneuver,” he accused, smiling in turn. “If she is kicking,” he insisted, emphasizing the opposite sex purely on principle alone, “it is surely due to her mother’s influence.”

She rolled her eyes at the reference. “Oh, please do not say you are still sore from--”

“I swear, to this day, I still bear the marks from the force of your blow!”

“I have seen you without clothes on,” Annabeth said, “and you have no such mark, believe me.”

A silence fell between the two of them, chilly and awkward. She did not attempt to remove his hand from her person, and nor did he wish to remove it.

“It occurs to me,” she said quietly, after some time, “that I… I have never apologized for how I treated you back then.”

Rubbing his thumb against the fabric of her dress, he shrugged. “That time has long since passed,” he murmured, “and we are two very different people now. Let the past remain in the past, I say.”

“Still. I was--very cruel to you,” she said. “I should not have said those things.”

She had been very cruel. Percy had returned to the agoge after a year and a half spent with the Legion, expecting open arms and welcome smiles from his friends and brothers in arms, only to be met with scorn and derision from the one person whom he had most wanted to see.

After the war with the titans, they had only been granted a short reprieve before they had received an envoy from Aachen, begging Percy’s help with a monster which they simply could not fight on their own, diminished as they were in the realm of Karolus Magnus , far from their ancestral home. Never one to turn down a cry for help, Percy had entreated Annabeth and their former questing companion now turned Lord of the Wild to accompany him. Unfortunately, in the snowy mountains of Dardania, they were ambushed by monsters, and separated. By the time Percy came to his senses, he was in the tender grip of the Latins, and Annabeth was long gone.

A naturally distrustful lot, they would not let him free until he had proven his loyalty to the rootless empire, and they sent him away to train with their patroness in the wilds. Once Lupa deemed him worthy of service, upon his return, they then put him to work, pairing him with his Latin counterpart, the son of Jupiter.

Again, he felt no shame with what he had with Iason. Theirs had been a soldiers’ romance, brief, but deep, intense and overwhelming. In truth, he would not have fallen in with the man, save for that he had been under the impression that Annabeth had left him to his doom in the mountains. The Latins had intimated to him evidence of a person’s quick retreat where they had found him, and had let him come to his own conclusions.

Once the giant Polybotes had been slain, then, and Percy had been released from unwilling service, he had been allowed to return to the shores of Constantinople. There he had received something of a hero’s welcome, with all due honors and celebrations--except, of course, from Annabeth, who had been decidedly not happy with his return. Feelings between them grew fouler and fouler, until, one fateful day, as they were practicing their weapons’ routines on each other’s persons, more hateful words had been traded rather than blows. Quickly, what had been a skilled and professional match devolved into something dirty and mean, filthy trick after filthy trick, until she had kicked him square in the ribs, knocking him flat onto the ground, hissing from between bloodied teeth how she would have preferred it if he had died in Dardania.

After that, Percy had promptly departed for his father’s palace, seeking escape in the form of good cheer and happier people, chasing away his broken heart in the arms of Thetis, and others.

They had not shared a serious or friendly conversation for years--not until the morning the Ottomans broke through the defense of the city.

“Think nothing of it,” he said, unwilling to dwell on that time any longer than he had to. He would not say it was alright, for it was not, but he also had let go of that animosity many months before, in the shadow of the Erechtheion.

“You must understand,” she went on, a little forceful, “I was not angry with you, but with myself. I thought I had lost you to a fate unspeakable--”

“I am not certain I would classify Latin conscription as a fate unspeakable,” said Percy, dryly.

She flushed. “I--I only meant--”

“Annabeth,” he said, not wanting to tread this ground any further, “let it be done. Please.”

“After the war,” she spoke, urgently, “I thought… I had--thought that we would… well.” All at once, she slumped as though the very breath had gone out of her, removing her hand from his, nearly curling into herself. “I suppose,” she murmured, “it no longer matters what I thought.”

She did not need to clarify. He knew perfectly well what she had meant. It was not much of a secret that Percy and Annabeth had held some youthful affection for each other, not even from each other. So easily it could have blossomed into something stronger. “I wanted to,” he said, craning his neck to meet her eyes so she could see the truth of it. He had wanted to, and had planned to. But he was no fool, for he knew that a man needed a way of supporting a family before he could start one. The expedition to Aachen, that would have been his ticket into some of the upper echelons of Constantinople; a letter of introduction from a tribune, prefect, or even a centurion would have done wonders for his social standing and finances. “I swear, I wanted to, but then…”

Her lips lifted in a small smile. Not one of happiness, no. She knew all too well the things they had done to each other, the barbs they had hurled and the wounds they had inflicted. It was the acknowledgement of old sorrows and long-ignored pain which caused her to smile, a pain shared and understood only by the man before her. “As you stated,” she said, “we are now different people, and we cannot dwell on what may have transpired between us.”

A satisfactory answer--tragic, yes, but satisfactory nonetheless. “But we are friends, yes?” he asked, hoping for a little salve for his broken heart.

She raised her head, grey eyes clear and steady. “It is my very honor, Perseus,” said she, a pronouncement handed down from the empress herself, “to call you my friend--my dearest friend.”

It was not exactly what a husband might want to hear from his wife, nor what a man might want from the woman he loved about all things. But for Percy, it would be enough. It was Anja Elisabet Fredriksdotter: her hand, her child, her friendship. Perhaps one day, that friendship could be transmuted into something more affectionate, but Percy would not waste his time waiting for a day which would never come, not when she was here, before him, solid and tangible.

“Percy,” she said, very sweetly, “as wonderful as this is, unfortunately, I must ask you to give me some privacy at this time.”

“Oh,” he staggered to his feet, snatching his hand back. “Of course.” This, too, was a symptom of pregnancy with which he was quite familiar. His poor mother’s body had been pushed to its very limit, and she had had to relieve herself quite often. “I shall leave you to it, then.”

Then, face red, he trotted round to the other side of the wagon, where, paradoxically, he could better protect her.

***

Percy blinked, uncomprehending. “I beg your pardon?”

“I merely said,” she repeated, unconcerned, “that you no longer have to keep up the pretense. It has been months since I have had such voracious cravings, yet you continue to make a show of your search. It is natural for men to wish time for themselves--I know very well what a man can do with this time away from his wife.” She looked on him flatly, as though she thought he was the fool for thinking her to be one instead. “I am more than capable of amusing myself for a few hours. Please, go on--I am sure the good people of the brothel await.”

The--”I would not do that to you,” said Percy, quietly, a little insulted. Did she truly think so low of him that he would make good on his long-forgotten promise to abandon her to her freedom? Did she not understand that dreams of their brief time together would sustain him as water in a desert, and yet ruin him for any other man or woman? “If you do not believe me, then I insist you accompany me,” he said, firmly. “Allow me to put these thoughts of yours to rest.”

She looked out the window of their little room, where the sun hung low in the sky over Messalia . It had been a hot, July mid-morning when they rambled into town, looking for a place to stay the night before they would put to sea the next day, the streets and corners quiet as the people retreated to their homes for their daily rest. Now, as the shadows began to stretch, the city came to life once more, the hustle and bustle of commerce a dull roar beneath the room in the little inn which they had rented. Through the air wafted the scents of spices, coal fire, and the blessed salt smell of the sea, the glittering, golden jewel that lay beyond the walls. “Very well,” she said. “I believe I shall. A walk outside may do me some good.”

With some difficulty, as her large stomach made everything rather difficult for her these days, she managed to stand up from the low bed, reaching for her wimple which she had discarded previously. Tying it about her face, he was once again struck by the duality of his emotions, that he could feel so disheartened and yet so elated by the same action. Her wimple covered all of her gorgeous, golden hair, as modesty dictated it must, yet the act of hiding such beauty signified, once again, that she was his wife--a cause for great celebration, if only in his heart.

And so they went together on the town.

It was an absolutely marvelous time.

Once again, the sea infused his senses and soothed his entire being--a familiar sea this time, not the strange, frigid waters of the north, but the deep lapis and emerald of his childhood. Every shaft of sunlight felt as the touch of a friendly hand, and every shadow a cool breeze of relief. Together, arm in arm, they wandered up and down the markets, where Annabeth used the time given to her to practice her Italian. She was a remarkably quick study, as he knew she would be, though it did help that the merchants here were much more familiar with that language than they had been further north.

By now, Percy had been to markets practically all over the world. Each one was unique, distinct, with its own set of sights and sounds and smells, and yet, each one had been positively lackluster, almost grey in his memory. Not many men were fortunate enough to have seen so much of the known world, and had lived to tell the tale of it. Today, however, walking about with his eight month pregnant wife in the streets of Messalia, he finally understood what they all had been lacking.

So caught up in his wife’s lovely smile as she admired a particularly ripe set of figs, that he accidentally barreled into another person, spilling the contents of their arms all over the ground. Fruit went tumbling, smashing the earth in rich, dark colors, staining the well-worn streets. “Ah, perdono !” he cried, dropping to his knees to help gather up the items which could be salvaged. “ Scusatemi !”

“ Non, non, mon sieur ,” said the woman, joining him on the ground, “ perdon , per … Percy?”

At the sound of his name, his head snapped up.

She was an older woman, with long, thick brown hair streaked with grey, and eyes that shifted color in the low light. Her skin was tanned a deep brown from hours spent in the sun, and though her face was lined with age, none would look on her and not consider her to be a great beauty.

They stared at each other, in shock and disbelief.

“Percy?” called Annabeth, faint in his ears. “I am in need of your assistance, as I cannot remember the world you taught me--”

“Oh!” wept the older woman, dropping the rest of the fruit she had gathered onto the street, opening her arms to hold him. “It is you!”

And with a deep, wrenching sob, pulled from his chest, Percy threw himself into the warm embrace of his mother.

“ Mater , mater ,” he moaned, burying his face into her chest as she held him close. “Oh, mater !”

“I knew it, I just knew it,” she was saying, over and over again, clutching him to her breast, kissing his forehead, “I knew you had made it out. Oh, lord of the sea, earth-shaker in the swelling brine, thank you, thank you, thank you for my son!”

So caught up in the sudden wave of emotion, he was rendered nearly mute. “Mother,” he finally croaked, taking in the warm, sweet scent of her--cinnamon and cloves and sea salt. To think that he had almost forgotten the particular details, hands calloused from years of cooking, eyes twinkling like stars on the surface of the water. “Mother!”

“My boy!” Sally pulled back, raking her hands through his hair, pushing it from his face so she could look on him more clearly. “Oh, my boy, I never thought I would see you again!”

“Nor I you,” he replied, tears blurring his vision. “How--how are you here?”

“I could ask you the very same,” she said, smiling the sweet summer smile which had lit his childhood as a candle in the dark, “and I will hear all of it--but for now, let me simply look upon you! It has been far, far too long since I have seen your smiling face.”

He was smiling, so wide and genuine that it caused his face to ache, a pain he was more than happy to bear, down on his knees in the middle of Messalia. “I have missed you, mater ,” he said, “so much.”

“Percy?”

Blinking, he came back to himself, emerging from the dream so suddenly made real. The populace of Messalia were not giving them so wide a berth, just barely sparing the two the indignity of being walked all over. Annabeth stood a little ways away, her hand resting on her protruding stomach, light concern falling over her face like a veil.

“Mother,” he said, seized with a strange kind of energy, “here.” With steady hands, he lifted her up from the ground, the ruined fruit forgotten. Annabeth stepped closer to them, trepidation slowing her pace. She had already met his mother a number of times--they had often taken rest at her house when a quest required them to take their leave from the agoge for several days at a time--but even he understood that to meet her as his wife was a vastly different thing.

But his mother, quick as ever, cottoned onto the truth of the matter. “Percy,” she breathed, full of disbelief, “is that--”

“You remember Annabeth,” said Percy, nerves seizing his tongue and nearly stopping it in his mouth, “my--my wife.”

How strange, that weeks ago, the two syllables represented one of the happiest truths of his life, and yet today, he felt as anxious as a baby colt learning to walk for the first time, desperate for the two most important women in his world to feel some sort of kinship.

His mother gasped, her hands flying to her face. “Annabeth!” she cried, taking her in her arms without hesitation. “Your wife! How wonderful! Oh, blessed day that made your way here!”

Annabeth stood there, quite shocked, before bringing her arms up as well.

“Oh, goodness,” said his mother, pulling herself back, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Look at me--I apologize for such unbecoming behavior. But you must come back with me--Paul and Esther will be overjoyed--I will need to purchase some wine--”

It was then that Percy remembered he had, quite indirectly, ruined her groceries. Fruit was not inexpensive, and neither was wine. Percy knew his mother, and he knew she would wish to cook for him in celebration, but he would not see her waste any more of her money on his account. “Allow me,” he said, placing a hand on her arm. “I shall pay you back in full, and then some. Ah, if,” he glanced towards Annabeth, seeking her permission, for it was her money after all, “if that is alright, of course.”

She looked at him, quizzically. “Of course it is alright.”

“Percy,” sighed his mother, “you do not need to--”

“It is settled, then!” Taking her arm in his, he directed them to the fruit seller whom Annabeth had been speaking to just prior, unwilling to let go of his mother for even a second. “We shall have a veritable feast!”

***

Paul, his mother’s husband, had wept upon seeing them. Dear, sweet little Esther refused to let go of her elder brother, stubbornly clinging to his leg. Eventually, she had tired herself out, the poor thing, only allowing her father and Annabeth to take her to bed when she had nearly fallen asleep in his lap. Percy had tried to persuade Annabeth to relax, but she had insisted, looking on Esther with such sweetness and doting in her eyes that Percy found himself hard-pressed to say no. Perhaps she would be so sweet and affectionate with their daughter, as well. The very thought excited him in ways he could not quite describe.

If she was forced to be a mother, then, perhaps it would not be the harshest of fates.

“I am so glad, Percy,” said his own mother, once he had recounted to her the whole, winding tale of his and Annabeth’s journey. Her looking at him with such fondness, it transported him back to that dark, bleak time, when they were all that each other could claim to call their own. Now look at them--families and children, both. Beneath the thumb of a monstrous man, sometimes it was difficult to imagine otherwise. “When the news of Constantinople’s fall reached us… yet I kept the faith. I knew you would survive, and I am so glad you had someone with you.”

He smiled, taking her hands in his, kissing the knuckles there. “All I learned of survival,” he said, “I learned from you.”

She squeezed his hands, warm and solid.

“But you must tell me how you came to Messalia,” said Percy, before he could begin to weep. “How is it you found your way to this place?”

His mother lifted her shoulders, tilting her head. “My story is not nearly so exciting as yours, I can promise you that. Our voyage out of Constantinople was swift and peaceful, and we arrived on the shores of this city far faster than we thought possible.”

“That was my father,” said Percy. “In Svealand, I had a dream of him--he bade me to send you his love.”

Her countenance transforming, she smiled, sweetly, knowingly, a glint in her eye which lifted years off of her face. “I had wondered,” she said, “for our voyage did seem unusually safe.” Then she shook her head, lightly, casting off whatever memories had come to her in that moment. “What else did he tell you?”

Much that he wished to keep to himself, though he was sure she would understand. “Have you ever heard of the city of old soldiers?” he asked his mother instead. He felt all of fourteen years old once more, seeking his mother’s guidance, begging for wisdom from a woman of keen sight and keener instinct.

Frowning, she turned her gaze towards the open window, to the stars which were beginning to show their faces. “I do not know this city of which you speak,” she said quietly.

Percy sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Yet,” said his mother, “I, too, have had some extraordinary dreams as of late.”

At that, he perked up once more, leaning in to listen better. As she had told him, once upon a time, her sight had waned alongside her youth, though she could still occasionally perceive that which lay just beyond the comprehension of most mortals. “What have you seen?” he asked, breathless.

She closed her eyes, recalling. “In a city on a river,” she said, “there is a grand building--a church, made of marble, white and green, and above it rests a red dome, reaching towards the sky, as though it longs to return from whence it came.”

“A city on a river,” he repeated. Another clue--yet, just as many cities had rivers as they did old soldiers.

“I apologize, my son,” said his mother, opening her eyes once more. “This is all I know.”

He squeezed her hands, comforting. “Think nothing of it. We have already decided to seek our fortune in Venice--I have been told that their church there was modeled on St. Sophia. Perhaps this is the dome of which you speak.”

“Perhaps,” she said, unconvinced. “But must you leave us so soon? You will do well in Venice, of that I have no doubt, yet I do not know if I can bear to be apart from you once again. And,” then she grinned, her eyes suddenly sparkling, “I should very much like to meet your child.”

Percy blinked at her, processing what she was saying. Then he flushed, grinning weakly in return. “Ah, yes, well… I should like you to meet her as well.”

Certainly, he possessed no gift of prophecy--he was not, as it were, a child of Apollo--but he found himself dreaming more and more of that little girl with his wife’s lovely hair and eyes, like the children who dressed as St. Lucy. A little girl whom he could lavish all fatherly love and affection upon, rather than a wife who would find it a nuisance at best. She would be his princess; and if her mother could be persuaded, he would call her his Anja.

The lines on her face ran deep, carved from years of laughter and joy which poured forth from her like the sun itself. “Even at such a young age, I could sense the fondness and affection you had for each other. You do not know how happy I am for the two of you.”

A fondness and affection which had now faded on her part--but at least they had resolved to remain friends in a marriage of trust and support, if not love. “When I have made enough money,” he promised, to take his mind off of his situation, “I will send for you and your family, and we will never be parted again. In fact,” he said, struck with sudden inspiration. Rummaging through the various folds of his clothing, he located his purse which carried the rest of the money he had on him, then placed it in his mother’s hand. “Here. A gift, to a wonderful mother from her loving son.”

“Percy,” she tutted, brow furrowed. “Do not concern yourself with me. We are comfortable here, Paul and I; you must focus all of your resources on providing for your own family now.”

“Annabeth has more than enough to provide for herself, her dowry was immense. More land than I thought possible, sold for more money.” he said. “She and our children--our child,” he corrected, cursing himself for his weak tongue, and praying his mother had not caught it, “our child will be kept in comfort for the rest of their days. I carry only a bit for pocket change, so she need not do all the bartering for me. You have done so much for me--please, allow me to do this for you.”

“What do you mean?” his mother asked, picking up the purse, surprised by the weight of it. He observed as she untied the cord, and spilt the contents on her table, the gold coins clinking against each other ever so noisily. “Is it not your money now?”

“I suppose, legally , yes.” he conceded. “But the land we--she gained from her uncle is ancient family land. It would not do for me to leech such things away from her.” Bad enough that she had to be tied to him in motherhood and marriage, but he would not stoop so low as to usurp the use of her finances. “Once I arrive in Venice, I will then pay my own way,” he promised his mother, and his wife, though she was not there to hear him. “I will find work as a laborer, or if I am lucky, perhaps a ship will be in need of a sailor.”

“I suggest,” his mother said, “that you speak to your wife regarding such things.”

As much as he would have liked to protest, said wife reentered at that moment, helped along by Paul. “Percy,” she said, “the hour grows late, and we have left poor little Freya all by her lonesome.”

“Ah--of course,” said Percy, standing as well. Damn that cat, he thought. “Then I believe we must take our leave of you now, mother.”

“I understand,” she said, rising to see them out. “Will we see you again ‘ere you depart?”

“Tomorrow,” he promised. “I shall return to you once more.”

Then she swept him up in her arms again. “Until that happy time, my son.”

He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of oil and onion, cinnamon and cloves, hearth and home, and marveled again at the strength of his wife who had borne the pain of leaving her father to travel the world with someone like him. “Until then.”

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Closer (Lucifer x Plus-Size!F!MC)

hi!! its 3am and I was working on some other obey me fanfics but instead i ended up writing VERY vague suggestive smut about lucifer. at least i think, i can’t tell if it’s more suggestive than smut, haha!

it does feature a plus size mc, mostly because i wish it was a topic more touched on not just in obey me but other dating sims in general because everyone is beautiful and deserves to know that <3 aha i did end up writing it a lil bit from my own perspective when i felt insecure and wanted someone to reassure me (i’m a sucker for lucifer) sorry if there are spelling errors, i will fix them when i’m awake!!

please do not steal my story and i hope you enjoy!!

type: lucifer x plus size female reader, fluff, vague suggestive fluff (smut?)

word count: 1.7k

__

She was melting.

Honey sweet whispers dripped into her ear. The touch of his hands spread within her body, eliciting a tingling warmth. There she went again, finding herself falling deeper into a sinful bliss as his lips captured every word that threatened to escape. How did he manage to convince her to come to his office again? Her memory was fuzzy, distracted by the man in front of her, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. Whenever he was near her, her thoughts seemed to fly away.

That is, until his hands rested on her thighs. It was one of her insecure places. (Y/N) was a larger girl, yet she never tried to let it bring her down. The comments one would say could roll off her back and she wouldn’t blink an eye. She was a strong, determined woman. However, some could say that she was more likely stubborn. But there were moments where her insecurities overwhelmed her. It was a thought hiding in the back of her mind that would sometimes spring forward at random moments. This was one of those times. She was the first one to break their kiss, panting lightly from the lack of air. Her lips were swollen and pink.

The two were in a somewhat compromising position. She leaned up against his desk as he was sitting in his chair. He seemed powerful in this position, while she felt more bashful. Her face was flushed and parts of her uniform had clearly been disturbed. If the uniform of her skirt was pulled up any high, he would be able to see her panties. (Y/N) wondered how he could remain so composed in a situation like this, almost cursing his smug face that she so adored.

“Lucifer…” She began, pushing herself off the desk. She thought carefully of her words, pondering the right way to express her emotions. She didn’t want to stop what they were doing, but was instead craving the reassurance that she was what he wanted. Those insecurities popped up faster than she could push them down. What if he didn’t like the way she looked?

Or what if it was just a game?

Of course, she knew it wasn’t. It was those insecure thoughts filling her mind again. Lucifer was not a man to judge by appearances, it was one of the reasons she fell in love with him. He loved her for who she was. “Yes, dear?” He hummed, that smug smirk gracing his lips. Parting her lips again after a moment, she prepared to tell him that perhaps his hands shouldn’t roam so high.

Lucifer seemed to have other plans.

As if he could sense what she was thinking, he reached forward and pulled her roughly into his lap, her thighs landing on either side of his, basically straddling him in his chair. If their position wasn’t compromising enough before, it was now. Squeaking from the shock, she quickly grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. His hands creeped up to her hips, wondering if they should be daring enough to travel to her behind. Her blush deepened, her expressions were a dead giveaway.

“L-Luci, let me go…” (Y/N) mumbled, not meeting his gaze. The panic started to bubble inside her. Wasn’t she too heavy? Worrying coursing through her, she thought about his reaction, but couldn’t bring herself to find it. Her grip on his shoulders grew tighter, swearing to herself that she could hear her heartbeat inside her ears. Lucifer seemed to enjoy her embarrassment, it was cute. “Oh?” He questioned, his teasing smirk growing wider. “Why should I?”

He had a feeling what her answer would be, but he didn’t believe she would dare to say it aloud.

(Y/N) then frowned, choosing to stare at the wall rather than his deep, red eyes. If she looked at him, would she share more secrets than she should? A part of her was still a bit reserved in revealing her insecurities. Lucifer had once told her that he wanted to know everything about her, but she hesitated with some topics. “Aren’t I…” She trailed off at first, thinking to herself before replying, “Aren’t I too heavy to be sitting in your lap?”

Lucifer’s grin fell from his face, eyes narrowing towards her. (Y/N) couldn’t help but swallow the heavy feeling in her throat. She was in for it now, wasn’t she? Lucifer cursed himself internally for momentarily forgetting about her insecurities. It didn’t matter to him how others viewed her, she was beautiful to him. As if she was a tempting thought that could fly away in the wind if he wasn’t quick enough to capture it. He didn’t care for the human world’s definition of “beauty”. Besides, he was much stronger than she believed. Weight was never an issue.

“Love,” He spoke, after a moment had passed. (Y/N) let out a small whimper, wondering what he would say, the slight tension bringing that sense of worry back. Lucifer removed one of his hands from her hips to grab her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. As soon as her eyes met his, his expression softened. He decided to remain with his stern tone. (Y/N) questioned the scolding she was in for. She knew that Lucifer cared about her, but it was hard to forget about the societal pressures she grew up with.

“If I didn’t want you to sit in my lap, you wouldn’t be here, would you?” He asked.

(Y/N) didn’t respond right away, hesitation lingering in the air.

She hadn’t noticed that his hand moved away from her hip, before it came down on her behind with a loud smack. “Ah!” She yelped, the shock bringing her back into reality. “I believe I asked you a question.” Lucifer said, his voice dropping a few octaves. The sting from his slap remained, (Y/N) figured it was best to respond. “N-No..” She bit out, her voice failing her. The heat coursed back into her face, as she noticed Lucifer tried to hide his smug look at her reaction. He was succeeding for the most part.

“Full sentences, (Y/N).” He warned, rubbing her ass lightly, both of them knowing he would spank her again given the chance. “No, I wouldn’t be here.” (Y/N) replied, finding the strength to not stutter that time. “Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” He murmured, pressing a kiss to her jaw, as if that was her reward. (Y/N) wanted to hide her face in the crook of his neck, but it would be difficult to hide from him, he would elicit a reaction, one way or another.

Lucifer dropped his grip from her chin, instead bringing his hand to start unbuttoning her uniform shirt. Instinctively, her hand shot up to her shirt, but found that he had already wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “Do you want to stop?” He mused, preparing to cease his motions for the night.

(Y/N) shook her head without realizing it. She didn’t want to stop, she wanted to be even closer. To feel his lips back on her, bringing her deeper into him. To feel his hands exploring, feeling new areas where they had not dared to venture before. It was a risky feeling, but that craving pushed her forward. “Aha, I…” She laughed breathlessly, attempting to gain control over wavering emotions.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

It was her only argument, but it didn’t reach deaf ears. She gasped as she felt herself moving backwards. Falling? No, her back gently hit Lucifer’s desk, the man himself peering over her. Hands trapped her on either side, examining her disheveled uniform. With her legs still on his hips, her skirt traveled dangerously high, revealing the bottom of her panties. The few buttons of her shirt Lucifer had managed to undo now revealed her bra underneath. It was a sight he had been longing to see.

“You won’t disappoint me, not like this.”

Lucifer’s smug smirk returned. He leaned down, lips touching her neck, testing her reactions. “How I view you is up to me, my dear,” He lectured, stopping every so often to bite down and leave a lovely little mark. Each squeak, whimper, and moan pulled from her lips encouraged him to continue. (Y/N) would have reminders in the morning of this night, but Lucifer doubted that she would mind. “Yet I know for a fact that you are beautiful, kind, and equally the most stubborn woman I know.”

They both took a moment to share a laugh at his statement. The situation had turned, and her fears were beginning to fade. She wondered why she had questioned herself if she knew he would reassure her? (Y/N) was thankful she had Lucifer to care for her. Now relaxing, she let her fingers move down to the buttons of Lucifer’s jacket, wanting his uniform to be as disturbed as hers was. However, her breath hitched in her throat as she heard his next words, whispered into her ear.

“I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

Before she was given another chance to speak, he shushed her with his own lips. His dominance was not one to be fought with, as his tongue ventured deeper inside her mouth. His hands returned to her thighs, sliding up and under her skirt before deciding to rest on her hips for a moment. One finger curled around the edge of her panties, daring to pull them off. That feeling from earlier returned. That blissful feeling that seemed to let her thoughts drift away.

The moment happening between them excited her, and she craved for him to be closer to her. Their faces may have been only an inch away, but Lucifer was still clearly hovering over her. Her hands traveled to the collar of his jacket, trying to pull his body to hers. He broke the kiss for her a moment, “Use your words, (Y/N).” He demanded, smiling down at her with a malicious look in his eyes. She pouted in response.

“Closer…” She whispered, face flushed by their position.

“What was that, dear?” Lucifer teased, leaning down only by an inch. Narrowing her eyes, she tugged on his collar once more. He remained balanced, amused by her attempts to bring him down. She almost wanted not to give in, her stubborn side coming out to play, but she couldn’t resist.

“I want you to come closer.” (Y/N) spoke, willfully this time.

Lucifer obliged, closing the gap between them.

“Yes, my darling.”

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(I’ll give you) the best years

part III (masterlist, taglist)

Hiya, I hope everyone is well and taking care of themselves. Here is the third part of Nulu’s adventures, I think there will be five or six parts total, we’ll see how things play out. Hope you like it and please come talk to me about anything, any thoughts, comments, opinions, I’d love to hear them!

PART III

March 2024

As Lucy was standing outside hotel room number 174, she felt positively giddy. She was about to see her husband, who she hasn’t seen for three months, since he came to cheer her during her winning run at the Australian Open. However, there was a teeny tiny part of her that felt nervous. Niall had no idea she was about to knock on his door. What if he didn’t like the surprise? Every rational cell in her body laughed at her, more than sure that he would always be happy to see her.

There was a rustle inside after she knocked, which made her smile, just knowing how clumsy her husband can be, especially when fumbling around.

The door was pulled open, revealing Niall, his head obstructed for a second, before he pulled down his t-shirt, which he must have just grabbed to put on.

“Lulu?” he asked with a groggy voice, which along with his messed up hair and outfit consisting of boxers and said t-shirt, let her know he was probably sleeping. Which wasn’t very surprising, as it was just about seven in the morning.

“I heard you’ve got some spare room in your bed,” she barely managed to get the sentence out before Niall pulled her into him for a warm hug, taking a step back with her safe in his arms, so he could close the door behind them.

The hotel room was almost dark, the only source of light being a bedside lamp. They were both quiet, lost in the moment, in the warmth and smell of their partner, the closeness they had been missing. Niall smeltslightly of sweat, with a trace of his perfume and peppermint, indicating he had been opting for a morning shower, which Lucy was kind of glad about, because he just smelt like Niall. As much as she loved a freshly showered Niall, his skin slightly pink from hot water and smelling of orange body wash, this was the smell of home, of his body, and there was nothing better.

His back was hunched a little, so he could rest his chin on her shoulder, his arms wound tightly around the base of her waist, while her nose was hidden in the intersection of his neck and shoulder, her hand playing with the ends of his hair.

“Did I wake you?” she asked, her voice soft like honey in his ear.

He hummed, but didn’t pull away, if anything, tried to pull her even closer. “Mmm, not sure, might still be dreaming.”

His words made Lucy grin, the fact that he thought of her as a vision, someone from his dreams. She made use of the position she was in and bit on his shoulder to show him the situation they were in was real.

“Aw!” he whined slightly surprised, but she knew he was just pretending to be hurt, she didn’t even let her teeth sink into his skin. And he didn’t even flinch or made a move to pull away. “Okay, I’m definitely not dreaming, thanks for that.” He finally pulled back slightly, but kept his hands on her waist to still keep her close, before finally taking a look at her, hair in a bun, one of his sweaters on her body. “Are you tired? Had a good flight?”

Before she answered, she raised onto her tiptoes and went in for a kiss, Niall’s mouth tasting like a mix of toothpaste and sleep, but it was so nice to be able to kiss him again, she prolonged the kiss until they were both breathless.

When they disconnected, she responded. “Not really, five hours with a screaming baby on board.” She pouted, but she’d actually take all the crying babies if it gave her a few days with her husband.

“Let’s go to bed, then. Talk later, yeah?” he proposed, grabbing her suitcase and placing it next to his own in the corner of a room.

She already took off her sweater and when Niall pulled off his t-shirt, she simply outstretched her hand for the piece of clothing, which he handed her with a smile, always loving seeing his wife in his clothes. They got into bed without any other words shared, wrapping their bodies around each other with no problem, like it was in their muscle memory, finding perfect spots to fit with the other person. Lucy was so tired, her mind started slipping into sleep right away, but she still felt Niall plant a sweet kiss at the crown of her head, resulting in her lips curling into a smile.

~~

Lucy woke up the very same way she fell asleep, with Niall’s kisses.

“Wakey wakey, love,” he whispered right into her ear, making a smile appear on her lips, even though her eyes were still closed.

“What time is it?” she asked, her mouth stretching with a yawn right after.

“Just before noon, I have to leave in a bit over an hour. Just ordered us breakfast, it should be here in twenty.”

She finally opened her eyes, a perfect picture of freshly showered Niall, his hair still damp, kneeling right beside her on the bed, looking at her with her favourite smile of his, the look in his eyes reserved solely for her.

“Mmm, okay, I’m gonna shower real quick, then,” she said sitting up, stretching her arms above her head. She needed to get rid of that airplane stench that always clung to her body after flights.

Niall holded her by the waist before she could make a move to get up and off the bed, putting his other hand on the back of her neck before leaning down for a good morning kiss. “Now you can go,” he said, pulling away after a few more kisses and pecks.

“What’s the plan for today?” she asked, going to grab some clothes and toiletries from her suitcase.

“Well, I’m gonna go check if everything is ready for tomorrow, then I’m doing some press for the tournament on the grounds, should be done pretty early though.”

She didn’t just come to see Niall because she missed him, although that was always the main reason. No, she came to truly show her support. His management was co-creator of a new golf tournament that Niall personally was very involved with, making it all come together and be the best it could possibly be. It was a bit of a new role for him, one that he was excited about, because he wanted to be more involved with his company, but it was also a new territory, which made him stressed and nervous.

“Can I tag along?” she asked, stopping by the bathroom, her hip leaning on the doorway.

He raised his brows. “Of course. Don’t you need to train though?”

“Nah,” she dismissed it right away, but when Niall kept looking at her with scrunched brows, she continued, “I need to do one workout a day, but I’ll just go to the gym tonight or whenever we’re back. Don’t worry about it.”

It looked like Niall mulled over in his head whether to speak up or keep quiet, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. But he took a step closer to Lucy, leaning his arm on a wall not too far and sighed. “Love.” His voice was gentle, like he didn’t want to scare her with his words. “I’m very happy with the surprise, it’s amazing to have you here, but shouldn’t you be playing a tournament in a few days?”

She sighed, but gave him a soft, knowing smile. Sometimes she wondered if they cared about each other’s careers more than their own. Always happy to be together, but also hating the thought that their partner sacrificed possible successes.

“No, I haven’t committed to it. I need a few days off,” she explained. “I’ve also been coming down with a cold or something the last couple of days. It seems to be all better now, but I just wanted a bit of rest. And I wanted to be here for you. Like you are for me so often. It’s a big deal, your tournament. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“But -”

“Don’t.” She cut him off, already knowing what he was about to say and not wanting him to get too wrapped up in his head.

None of them wanted the other person’s career to suffer because of the long distance nature of their relationship. Lucy always had this worry that she didn’t support Niall enough, didn’t show up for him the same way he did for her. While he feared that she’s purposefully saying no to some tournaments or isn’t training the way that would be the best for her, just to come see him or spend more time together. One could say it was funny, how they both blamed themselves, but never the other person. It was a subject they revisited often, giving each other the very needed reassurance.

But in the end, they just needed to trust that their partner is honest and knows what’s best for them, so if Lucy said it’s okay that she’s here, Niall accepts it with a nod of his head and one last kiss before finally letting her go shower.

~~

The whole tournament was a success and Lucy couldn’t be any prouder of her husband. And every success like that deserved a party. It was a bit spontaneous, people deciding to go celebrate soon after the trophy ceremony. It was the best kind of party, though. Quite casual, just a lot of people inviting their friends and colleagues and going to a club together. Lucy, dressed in jeans and red silk shirt, didn’t feel out of place.

She had never been a party animal, didn’t go to college and didn’t party in high school, as she always had training to go to or homework to catch up on, she wasn’t much of a drinker either (as she needed to keep her body in the best shape possible), but she never complained about going out with Niall. Even though she wasn’t flourishing in social situations, Niall was a bit of a social butterfly and she enjoyed watching him like that, working a room, talking to all those people, making conversation with ease and emitting laughs from his companions. The fact that he either kept her close and engaged in his conversations or often made his way around a room to check on her if they were separated, helped tremendously.

Like now, when he showed up by her side, wrapping both hands around her middle and propping his cheek on her shoulder before twisting his head slightly to land a kiss on her cheek. They separated a while ago, after having a drink together, a bit of dancing and some talks with people handling the business side of sports (which Niall made sure to include her in, because he thought it’d be good for her future plans). Later on, she let him wander off, while she stayed with people she already knew, Aisha and Lena, who she met on a few occasions, as they were working for modest!golf, Ryan, who handled PR for that tournament and his boyfriend, David.

At the start of their relationship, when they were going out, Niall had used to be worried about her, trying to constantly keep her by his side, so she wouldn’t feel left out or abandoned. Not because she couldn’t handle herself, but he simply wanted her to feel comfortable. But with time, he noticed, learned, that she was alright left on her own, as long as there was someone else she was familiar with. When they were out with their London friends, she always ended up gossiping, dancing, or, as Niall calls it ‘wreaking havoc’ with Laura.

Lucy wasn’t engrossed with the story that David was retelling, she heard it a day before when they were hanging out during a tournament, so she reached her hand behind to thread through Niall’s slightly sweaty hair and twisted her head to look at him, cheeks pink from alcohol and the temperature in the room, he looked absolutely adorable.

“Gin?” he asked, spotting a glass in her hand.

“Water,” she replied, before taking notice of his hooded eyes. “You could probably use some.”

Niall took a small step to put a little space between them, just to see her better, but his one hand was still wound around her. He smiled taking her glass, enamoured by how she always took care of him, even through the small things.

“I thought you were drinking tonight?” he asked, handing her the glass back after drinking half of its contents.

They were still standing beside her previous company, but were facing each other, while the rest of the group still talked among themselves, giving them a somewhat private moment.

“Yup,” Lucy nodded, “I already had two gins. And some wine back at the tournament. Can’t really have more.”

Niall hummed in understanding. “But you’re having fun though?”

She smiled, placing her hand on his chest, his shirt sticking slightly to his body. She could feel the heat of his skin through the material, always searching for more connection with her husband. Instead of giving a straight out reply, she leaned up slightly, her small heels giving her a few more inches than usual, and kissed him reasurely, both of them feeling the breaking of a smile forming on their lips, which made it a bit harder, but none of them minded. Sometimes Lucy thought those might actually be her favourite kisses.

She had to gently push on his chest in order for their kiss to end, Niall always being more handsy and affectionate after a few drinks, but as easy as it would be to get lost in the moment with him, she was aware of other people around them, especially the ones right beside.

He let her pull slightly away, but still kept her close, the side of her body right against his. “Wanna go dance for a bit?” he asked after licking his lips. “I should probably sweat some of the alcohol off.”

His eyes were glistening mischievously and she had to bite on her bottom lip at the thought of not only just having fun with Niall on the dancefloor, but especially his undeniably wandering hands and stolen kisses. “Yeah.”

Niall already took a step away, when Aisha spoke up. “Oi, but be sure to bring her back to us!” she howled, Ryan sending a suggestive wink their way, which made Niall burst out with a laugh.

So they went, had fun dancing, had one more drink together, Lucy had some conversations with Niall’s colleagues from the golf world, then they both went back to her earlier group, talked a bit with them, before Niall was called to join other colleagues.

After a while, Lucy was sitting alone, replying to Mia and shooting a quick update text to her parents. Her earlier group discarded a bit, with Ryan and David leaving, Aisha calling her boyfriend, who was back in London, and Lena making moves on the dancefloor with a guy she’s been flirting with throughout the night. She didn’t mind too much though, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet, well, as much quiet as you could get in a club.

She was quite engrossed with her phone, so she didn’t notice Niall approaching, only aware of his presence once he sat down right next to her.

“Hi,” he said, slouching down to rest his head on her shoulder.

“Hello mister.” She put the phone back into her purse and looked at the state of her husband. His eyes were glossy, hair a mess, probably from Niall running his fingers through it too many times. He was definitely drunk, but looked so happy and carefree, Lucy couldn’t help but feel a familiar flutter in her stomach.

She looked down at him, just as he tilted his head up, so their eyes met, both of them wearing lopsided smiles. Lucy reached her hand to play with his hair, which made Niall hum happily, his eyes closed with content.

They just sat like that for a minute, but Lucy eventually spoke up, becoming worried that he’d fall asleep in a moment. “Want me to take you home?” she asked.

Niall looked up at her, when she pulled her hand away from his hair, eyes hooded, but surprisingly focused on her, and nodded. “Yes, please.” His voice was soft and sleepy, so she pulled out her phone to call for a car.

“Okay, we need to wait ten minutes, so please don’t fall asleep on me. Tell me about your night. Did you have a good time?”

He nodded again. “Yeah. So nice. And I’m so happy you’re here.” Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he easily found a good spot on her neck to kiss and nibble on. “Everything’s always better when we’re together.”

She sighed. “It really is.”

They stayed quiet after that, until the car arrived, then Lucy had to support Niall with her arm around his waist, so he didn’t stumble over his own feet or anything else and got home safe. Some girlfriends or wives would probably complain about that, having to take care of their drunk partners, getting them home, making sure they had water and painkillers, or rubbing their back when they were hunched over a toilet emptying their stomach. But in a way, Lucy cherished those moments. Sure, maybe they weren’t the most pleasurable, but they were so simple and normal, she yearned for them. He was her husband and she didn’t mind taking care of his drunk ass. That’s what true love was all about, wasn’t it?

July 2024

When Niall finally called her back, he was just getting comfy on the couch, his house half dark, as always, the light from TV illuminating his figure. “Sorry I didn’t answer, love. Was working late in the studio and hadn’t even noticed that my phone died. How are you? You okay? I’m sorry about your match.”

She tried calling him right after her loss, feeling sh*tty and yearning for some love and support. But all three of her calls went unanswered, which wasn’t that surprising considering their lifestyles. It was moments like that when for a moment she wished their relationship was different. That they would always be able to be there for each other. Sometimes work and timezones made it difficult, they knew that, so in the end none of them was ever mad in situations like that, even though it could be frustrating at times.

She nodded and gave Niall a reassuring smile, but didn’t say anything on the topic. “What are you working on? You’ve been in the studio quite a bit lately, making an album after all?”

“Um.. Don’t know yet, really. Just kinda working, seeing where it’ll go.” He was looking away, his hand going to the back of his neck, almost like he was nervous, which made Lucy frown. It was an innocent question, usually he wouldn’t shut up if he had a good session, playing her the track or sharing some of the lyrics. She knew he wasn’t sure yet what he wanted to do right now, not necessarily ready for another album and tour, so maybe it was just that making him a bit anxious.

“Well it certainly looks like fun,” she said easily, her face breaking out into a smile remembering the picture she got sent earlier. “I saw you recording half naked, courtesy of Louis.”

“Tommo?” his brows pulled together, bewildered. She nodded, which made him clear his throat, his hand going from his neck to comb through his hair. “Yeah, well, um..” he licked his lips before continuing, “we had dinner and I was going back to the studio, so he just tagged along for a bit.”

“That sounds nice.” She could see that Niall got a bit weird about it, for whatever reason, so she decided to change the subject completely. “What are we doing for September? Are you planning to fly down, baby?”

“Umm.. Not sure yet, but I actually don’t think so,” he said nibbling on his fingernail, which she knew was a nervous habit of his. “I have quite a few studio sessions lined up and then things will be so crazy, getting everything ready and doing promo, the event is like three days after our anniversary. It’s too close, I’d say.” There was another Horan & Rose fundraising dinner happening in September. which made Niall even more of a busy man.

“Oh.. okay. I thought you’ll be able to come for the US Open, like we talked, but I get it.” She gave him a weak smile, because honestly, as much as seeing Niall, even through the phone screen, was always so nice, this conversation was not making her feel better, at all. Maybe they were just both tired. Maybe she was getting irritated for no real reason. But it felt like they were not on the same page today, not even close, and that kind of drift between them didn’t happen often.

“Yeah, I know, I wanted to, but some things came up and I don’t think I can make it now,” Niall said, huffing. Lucy wondered if he was annoyed or whether she was projecting her own frustration on him.

“It’s fine,” she cut off the subject, not wanting to unnecessarily dwell on it. “What about our anniversary? Are we planning anything?”

“Well, as I just said, I can’t really fly over to you.” Now she was pretty sure he was actually annoyed. And it only made her feel worse.

“I know, I heard you,” she replied, having to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “But, well, are we just gonna spend our first wedding anniversary apart, then?”

“I don’t know, Lucy.” Wow, he was hitting her with her full name. That very rarely happened and was a sign this conversation was definitely not going in the right direction. “Why does it seem like it’s my responsibility though? Am I the one that has to come to you?” He raised his voice slightly, almost getting mad. He looked away right after his words, missing the way Lucy’s face felt.

“Wait, what? That’s not what I meant, baby. You don’t have todo anything.” She tried to backtrack a bit, not wanting to get into a fight right now.

When he looked back at her, it seemed like his features softened a bit. “Well, it kinda sounded like that. Like if I don’t come to you, you just accept the fact that we’re not gonna be together for our anniversary.” Even though his voice was more levelled, there was still a bite to his words.

“That’s not it at all. You were planning on coming to New York before, I just wanted to know where we stand. And you didn’t even ask about my plans!” She was growing aggravated, but tried to remain as calm as she could, it was not the time to fight, especially about something that was ultimately mostly a misunderstanding. “You didn’t ask if I’ll be able to come home and you didn’t even invite me for your charity event, not one word about me possibly coming. You just assumed I want you to fly to me, while I simply asked if we’re planning anything. Please, don’t turn it into something that it isn’t.” Her last sentence sounded almost like a plea, but she didn’t even care, feeling tired and vulnerable.

There was a silence on the line for a moment, none of them even looking at the other, just taking a breath and trying to collect their own thoughts. When Lucy opened her eyes back up, after getting her emotions in check, Niall was already looking at her, his face noticeably softened.

“I’m really sorry, it slipped my mind, I guess? I’d love to have you with me there, you gotta know that, just didn’t want you to feel like you have to come. Well, would you be able to come home for our anniversary?” he asked sheepishly, his hand going to his hair once again.

“Yeah, I think so. The next thing I’m playing after the US Open is China, which is like three weeks later. I’ll need to get there a few days earlier to prepare, but I could come home for about two weeks. Just in time for your birthday and our anniversary.” When she finished speaking, Niall’s face finally lightened up with a true smile, for what felt like the first time that day. Lucy wondered if maybe she should have started with that piece of information, instead of asking him, but what’s done is done.

“That would actually be perfect, love.”

There were another few beats of silence, during which Lucy contemplated asking a question that she couldn’t shake out of her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth, wondering whether she should ask, even though she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to know the answer.

“Do you really think that?” she asked eventually, something in her truly broken by his earlier words, having her biggest fear about their relationship almost thrown in her face. “Do you feel like I just expect you to always come to me?”

The smile on his face was momentarily gone. Even through the dim lights in his room, Lucy could see the apologetic look in his eyes.

“Lulu,” he started, lowering his head in shame for a minute, before licking his lips and continuing, “no, I don’t. You know how worried I am whenever you’re coming somewhere to see me, I hate seeing you miss training or giving yourself less time to adjust to different courts and places, just to be with me. I’m… I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, I really am. I won’t be winning any husband of the year award, will I?”

“There’s some room for improvement,” she smiled lighthardly, her mind a little bit more at ease. “But I’d still take you over any other possible husband.”

He laughed at that, his very own belly laugh that was so him, it made her eyes water. She missed him. It was the magic of their relationship, never truly fighting, trying to resolve issues as soon as possible. And once they did, they just went back to normal right away, no tension left between them.

“I love you, Lulu,” he said, his voice longing. “And I’m sorry, truly. I think I’ve just misunderstood you. It’s hard to read you correctly through the phone all the time. And to be honest, I’m just tired and I miss you.”

It wasn’t even that long since they’ve seen each other, less than three weeks since she played at Wimbledon. But she missed him after weeks apart and she missed him after a few hours, just the same.

“I’m sorry too,” Lucy said, not willing to put all the blame on him. “I think I should just go to sleep, I had a sh*t day,” she huffed. It wasn’t even that late, but she was tired, both physically and mentally, so maybe it was best to just put an end to this day.

“Because of the match? Or something more?” Niall asked, concerned.

“Well, yeah, but it’s not even about losing, just…” she sighed, not even wanting to think about what happened, but also feeling the need to share with her husband. “It was a tough one, hard battle, and I don’t think I played well, my backhand was non-f*cking-exsisting.” She could still feel the frustration from the match cursing through her veins, making her irritated again. “And on top of that, my knee is acting up, because I twisted it a bit, I misstepped in the middle of the second set and it hurts like a bitch still.”

“What? Are you okay?” It only took a second for Niall to panic, trying to examine her body, even though he saw only a small part of it, not even anywhere near her knee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s gonna be alright,” she assured, “but I had to withdraw from Montreal to give it some rest. It sucks.”

“I’m so sorry, Lulu,” he said earnestly. A second after, his brows furrowed in thought. “But wait, you said it happened in the second set? Didn’t you win that one?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I did. But the third one was a disaster, I don’t even wanna talk about it anymore. It’s enough that I’m gonna have to relive it one more time for training and learning.”

“Where are you going next, then?”

“I’m gonna fly to Cincinnati, rest up and start training there. I have a week, so it doesn’t make sense to fly home for a day or two.”

He sighed, “Yeah, I get it. Okay, let’s go to bed, we could both use some sleep. Do you want to stay on?” he asked. It was something they didn’t do very often, time zones and different working hours making it impossible, but sometimes they liked to stay on skype, putting their laptops on the other pillow and having that smallest resemblance of falling asleep together.

“Yes, please,” she said, warmth spilling inside her body just at the suggestion, her husband always knowing what she needs.

They both just got up to move to the bedroom or bathroom, not even contemplating ending the call, going through their routines, but staying connected, enjoying the simplicity and intimacy, even through the phone.

September 2024

The second day she was home after the US Open, Lucy woke Niall up at the unholy hour of five in the morning. He was not happy, but his wife was the only person he could forgive such an atrocity. She was something else, waiting with breakfast on the table, ordering him to get into a car right after, having packed their bags and being very secretive.

“Love, what is going on? Come on, I need to know where we’re going,” he whined. He was the one driving, but so far she’s been just giving him directions.

She gave him a big smile, her hand resting on his tight, feeling the heat radiating from his body. “Okay, okay. Well, as it is your birthday tomorrow, I’ve got a little surprise,” she smiled wickedly. When he raised his brows, she continued, “As we said we wanna do more road trips, I’ve decided we’ll go to our little house for a small vacation, celebrate your birthday and our anniversary, before coming back on Thursday.” Niall opened his mouth to protest, but she gave his leg a squeeze to stop him. “Don’t worry, I spoke to Aisha and Justin, they got it all under control, they’ll call if they’ll need anything from you. Sorry to break it to you, baby, but it turns out you’re not irreplaceable after all.”

“Well, I just hope I’m irreplaceable to you,” he gave her a grin, reaching for her hand to plant a kiss on her fingers.

They bought a cottage in Ireland at the end of last year, just like they planned on their honeymoon. It was an hour and a half outside of Dublin, hidden away from prying eyes, a house full of silence and peace, a perfect getaway place.

After they arrived, they had coffee in the backyard, before moving to the kitchen to make dinner, having stopped for some groceries on their way.

“I’ve actually got some news that I need to share,” Niall said, looking over at Lucy who was chopping the vegetables, while he took care of a piece of chicken.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I, um…” he stuttered, halting his actions, but keeping his head down on the chopping board. “We’re reuniting the band.”

“The band? As in One Direction?” Lucy asked bewildered.

“Yeah.” Niall finally lifted his head, his lip trapped between his teeth. She didn’t understand why he seemed so nervous. It was good news, right?

“Baby!” She put the knife down to go and hug him. “That’s amazing! How did it happen? I want the whole story! What’s the plan?” She was so excited, she couldn’t stop the questions.

He chuckled, but it was a nervous sound, which she noticed especially when he took a hand from her waist and put it on the back of his neck. “Umm… We’ve actually been working together for a bit now.”

“Wait, what? Just…” her brows furrowed in confusion. She took a step back, her spine leaning against the counter. “When did this happen?”

“Well…” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. This time he wasn’t avoiding her eyes, but he seemed embarrassed by what he was about to say. “Okay, so I’ve met with Tommo and he was gonna go meet Liam in the studio later that day, so I tagged along and we just started messing about and actually wrote something and it just…” He shook his head like he still couldn’t believe it, a small laugh escaping from his lips. “God, Lulu, it felt so good, you know? It just felt right. So we kinda started talking about it, it was a lot of maybes and ‘should we’s and stuff like that… But obviously we wouldn’t do anything without Harry and I was supposed to grab lunch with him that week anyway, which was kinda perfect. So I told him about it and he’s actually started working on his new album, but he was struggling and he agreed to go to the studio with us all and just see what’ll happen. And I kid you not, magic happened. I’d say it took us like two or three weeks to actually write something decent, but it was so fun and natural. We talked more about it, you know, got into logistics a little more and yeah, that was it.”

Niall was rambling, his eyes almost shining with excitement, no sign of his earlier nervousness, a smile taking over his face. But Lucy’s expression was nowhere near as happy. Thoughts clouding her mind, trying to put his story together.

“Just when did it happen, Niall?” she asked, her voice calm, even though her insides were practically turning.

“Um… So…” he went back to embarrassed, maybe even a bit scared by her reaction. “That was in July, remember that photo Louis sent you?” Lucy nodded simply, her lips tightly pressed together. “Yeah, we were all in the studio then, I think it was the first week or so.”

“It’s been going on for two months and you haven’t even mentioned it to me? What the f*ck?” She was exasperated now, not even hiding it, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes cold.

He looked down, not able to handle her gaze. “I… It felt like something that should be said face to face, you know?” He shrugged.

She shook her head. “Two months, Niall. That’s a sh*t load of time.” Her words were bitter, full of sorrow.

At least he had a decency to look apologetic. “I.. I know. I wanted to tell you when I saw you, and then Louis sent that picture and I got a bit stressed, and I actually yelled at him because of that, but then he gave me a lot of sh*t for not telling you. Which made me feel super guilty, but it just felt kinda like I dug myself a hole, you know? I couldn’t tell you over the phone then, because why didn’t I tell you right away, if it’d still be on the phone? So I just… I don’t know, really, I waited.”

The fact that he couldn’t even explain his reasoning properly made Lucy feel even worse about the whole situation. It didn’t make sense to her, because she thought after all this time, having as much experience in a long distance relationship as they had, he should have known better.

“We don’t do that, Niall, we just don’t,” she said, a bit more calm now, but far from being over it. “It can’t be like that. It’s such a huge thing, I actually can’t believe you kept it from me for two months. I know some things are just better shared face to face, but we’re in the situation where we can’t afford to do that. I thought you knewbetter.”

“Yeah,” he said, ashamed, but reached for her hand, like he needed the contact more than ever, just wanting to make it better. “I’m actually sorry about that. I just… I don’t know, like, I think maybe I was scared nothing would come out of it, you know? Because it felt unreal at the beginning and then felt like it was too late to tell you… I made a mistake, yeah, I admit that.”

She let him take her hand, but made no move to get closer to him, even though he did try to pull her lightly. It wasn’t a huge betrayal or anything like that, she could see he was sorry and saw his mistake, but it still stung.

“I.. I think I’m gonna go for a walk,” she said, taking a step away, but he gripped her hand more tightly, not letting her get completely away from him.

“Lulu, please, don’t walk away,” he started, voice and eyes pleading. “I get that you’re mad -”

“I’m not mad,” she interrupted him, “I promise I’m not. But I am hurt. Because I can imagine how excited you were, I know how much the band means to you. And it just sucks that you didn’t share that with me. I would have supported you for those two months, I would have had your back and would have listened to all of your insecurities and worries. And it just makes me really sad that you didn’t want that,” she admitted, trying to explain her feelings the best she could.

“I did!” Niall exclaimed. “I swear I did, it just…” he sighed, taking a step forward, so he was right in front of her, but not making a move to touch her beside the hand he was still holding. “I was just being stupid. You know I can be like that sometimes.”

“I just need a minute, okay? I’m alright, I promise, just need to sort through my thoughts. I won’t be long,” she assured him, stepping up onto her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek.

He let her slip her fingers away and watched her walk away, her back hunched, so different from her usual near perfect posture sculptured by years of playing.

She wasn’t gone long, thankful to the universe for her phone still in the pocket of her jacket, because she did get a little lost. It was about forty minutes later when she returned, closing the door behind her. She was taking off her shoes and jacket, when Niall appeared, leaning on the doorway leading into the living room and kitchen.

“You alright?” he asked, looking at her carefully, as if he was trying to solve her mood, get a glimpse into her thoughts and feelings.

She nodded, giving him a slight smile. “Did you finish dinner?” she asked, the house filled with smells of food. She closed the distance between them, not hesitating to put her arms around his neck, having to tilt her head to look up at his face.

“Yeah, well, that’s the least I could do,” he chuckled, but it was a bit humorless.

Lucy put both of her hands on his cheeks, wanting to grasp his full attention, their eyes truly meeting. She stroked his cheeks gently, rising up to kiss him, their lips meeting slowly, the kiss tentative at first. It wasn’t one of those passionate, rushed kisses that you felt in your toes, but it’s purpose was different, it was emotional, supposed to transpire love and forgiveness, letthem both know they’re okay.

“Let’s go eat,” she said when their lips parted, lacing their fingers together and leading the way into the kitchen.

“Should we talk about it?” he asked once they were satat the table, eating.

She looked at him, swallowing her bite, before putting down her fork for a second and speaking. “There’s no sense to dwell on it really, you apologized and it’s okay. But please, don’t do it again. I know some news are better face to face, but I just want to know what’s going on in your life, always, whether it’s something big like this or the fact that you had some really good food for dinner and it made you happy. However big or small, I want to share those kinds of moments with you, that’s all.”

The walk did not only calm her, it cleared her mind as well. She took that time to consider why she was hurt, what was the worst part of the whole situation, and finally, to get over it, as it was done.

He nodded right away, reaching for her hand on the table to squeeze it reassuringly. “I have every intention to learn from that mistake,” he said earnestly, bringing her fingers to his lips. “I love you, Lulu.”

“I love you, too,” she said, feeling like she could finally exhale, the earlier hurt not completely gone, but significantly subsided. “Can I hear some of the songs you’ve made?” she asked, not even as a peace offering, she was just curious and excited, always loving to hear previews of the things Niall was working on.

“Of course, always. I have a few things on my phone, so I can play you some,” he said, his eyes sparkling again, newfound life in them. He almost always got excited when talking about music, but this was different, she could see it right away, this meant more, the band always held a special place in his heart.

“Tell me more about it all. What are the plans, then? ‘Cause I might have some news as well...” She bit her lip nervously, bringing up something that’s been on her mind more and more the last few months.

“Happy news?” he asked, brows raised in surprise.

She hummed, “hopefully, yeah.”

“Wait, oh sh*t, are you pregnant?” Niall’s expression was one she couldn’t read completely, one of shock, definitely, but there was something else too.

“Nooooo, no, that’s not it,” she said right away, laughing a bit that this was his first though, but it also warmed her heart a bit, his reaction not a negative one. “I, um… I’m pretty sure next year is gonna be my last season playing,” Lucy said, her eyes fixed on her husband, not wanting to miss any clue of his reaction.

“Wow,” he huffed, clearly surprised, probably even more surprised than he would have been if she told him she actually was pregnant. “That’s big news. Why next year?”

“Well, I’ve been saying I don’t want to play for that much longer. I think my knee slightly acting up again was a catalyst to this. I want to leave on my terms, not because of an injury again. And it just seems like the right time. I’m excited for the future outside the court, you know?”

Niall nodded, but was silent for a minute, clearly mulling some things over in his head.

“It’s not because of what I said earlier, is it?” he finally asked, a little sheepish, referring to their July phone call. “You know I’ll come to you whenever I can.”

She smiled warmly at him. “I know, it’s not that. It’s actually purely my decision, what I want and also what I think would be best for me. For us too, but for me as well.”

“Well, you have my full support, always. I mean, it’s a bit more complicated, ‘cause I wanted to join you for like the whole tour your last year, which I won’t be able to do, but I’ll try my best. If you want me to, that is.”

Lucy shook her head at his uncertainty. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do, always, baby. What are the plans for 1D, though?”

“Well, it’s a bit unclear, we need to see the public’s reaction first. But we want to drop a single on the band’s anniversary. Then hopefully an album by the end of the year. And then, if all goes well, tour in 2026. Definitely want things to go slower than we were used to back in the day.”

She nodded, their plans actually aligning for once, maybe not completely, but they could work with that. “I could probably join you on tour, then. If I was done playing.”

“I’d love that.” He had a huge grin on his face. It was an unexpected turn of events, but he could see it happening and although it wouldn’t be how he imagined, it had a chance to actually be good for them. “And I wouldn’t be on a super tight recording schedule, so it should be pretty easy to come see you on tour those last times. Especially for the big tournaments.”

She stood up from her chair, going round the table to sit on Niall’s lap, her hands wound tightly around his neck. “Mmm, I do like the sound of that.”

He gave her a kiss before speaking, “me too.”

Their future was still uncertain, a lot of logistics needing to be figured out, but it was all the confirmation they both needed. They’ll make it work, as always. And who knows, after next year, things might actually be a lot easier for them.

taglist: @stylishmuser​ @verorax​ @georgiahoranxx​ @exoticniall​

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Reset Reaction Part Two: Happy Forever After

Summary: A little girl brings everyone closer together

Word Count: 5.8K

Part One

Masterlist

You and Jihyun were walking hand in hand back to your shared house after a small lunch at a local diner. You had a few emails to answer regarding the next party being held and Jihyun had a new painting to finish.

Jihyun stopped abruptly, tugging on your arm slightly. He led you down an alleyway, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. “Jihyun, not now. We gotta get home”

Your boyfriend sent you an exasperated look. “Get your mind out of the gutter, MC. I’m hearing’ something’ down here.”

You clamped your mouth shut, embarrassed that you thought the reason he was taking you in an alley was to make out. Jihyun continued walking, biting his lip slightly, something he did when he was nervous. And that’s when you heard it: it was a small whimper, something that you really had to strain to hear.

Jihyun had good hearing, you knew that. But the fact that he was able to pinpoint where the noise was coming from astounded you. He dropped your hand, and took off in a bolt, leaving you huffing and running to catch up with him.

When you found him, Jihyun was crouched in front of a little girl with matted brown hair and smudges of dirt covering her face. Her clothes were much too small for her, you could see her stomach while she was sitting down and she had a black and blue bruise along the side of her ribs. “I won’t hurt you, I promise.” Jihyun was whispering softly to this little girl. She was looking up at him with wide, nervous blue eyes. “What’s your name sweetie?” The girl shook her head, eyes starting to water and when you stepped closer, she launched herself into Jihyun’s arms, hiding her face in his neck. “It’s okay, that’s MC. She’s really nice. She won’t hurt you either.”

You crouched down next to Jihyun, lightly resting your hand on his shoulder that the girl wasn’t resting on. “Are you hungry?”

She peeked out at you, slightly nodding her head before burying her face back into Jihyun’s neck. You and Jihyun exchanged a look, a silent agreement of sorts and started heading back towards the diner you had just come from.

After getting some food in the small girl’s stomach, she seemed much brighter and you could see a light pink start to tinge her cheeks. She had taken a liking to Jihyun, wearing his sunglasses and playing with his hair.

Jihyun seemed to like her as well, his arms wrapped around her, tickling her just to see her smile. “What do you say, darling?” He asked the small girl, trying to wipe off some of the dirt on her face in with a napkin. “Should we take you back to our house and get you cleaned up?”

The girl just looked at him and smiled brightly. Neither of you have gotten her to talk yet but she seems a lot more comfortable around both of you than she was before. Jihyun scooped her up in one arm, extending his other hand to you. You grabbed his hand gratefully, excited to go back to the house and get this little girl cleaned up and eventually into some nicer fitting clothes.

The walk back to the house was quiet, the small girl snoring softly on Jihyun’s shoulder was the only sounds besides your shoes hitting the pavement. Walking into the house, you both rushed around, Jihyun taking her to the small bathroom while you rushed around, trying to find a smaller shirt that you owned that she could wear for the night before you and Jihyun went shopping to get her some clothes of her own.

“That’s a good girl, angel.” You heard Jihyun coo from the bathroom as you stood in the doorway, light pink tee shirt in your hand, and you giggled at the voice he used with her. “Yeah, let me just clean this real quick.”

The girl shrieked and you poked your head in, noticing where he was trying to clean: the bruises on her ribs. “Might be a broken rib.” You murmured, leaning your head on Jihyun’s shoulder, him trying to calm her still.

She looked at you, reaching her arms for you and you grinned at Jihyun, picking her up. “You sleepy honey?”

She blinked slowly once and laid her head against your shoulder. You looked towards your boyfriend. “She told you her name?”

Jihyun shook his head. “Nah, haven’t gotten her to talk yet.” Softly smoothing down her hair, he smiled at her with undeniable affection. “Look at those cute cheeks.”

Ever since she got food in her system, her cheeks were a soft pink. “She’s pretty cute. But don’t get too attached, as soon as we put her down, we need to call the police. Someone might be looking for her.” You carried her to the bed you and Jihyun had reserved for when you had guests staying. As long as this little girl was here, it was her bed. As you lightly brushing hair off her forehead, Jihyun grabbed your hips from behind and you leaned back against him.

“I know we need to tell someone about her, but selfishly I wish we could keep her.”

Turning around in his arms, you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I know, love. But please don’t get too attached.”

Jihyun brushed his lips against the crown of your head. “I’ll go notify someone that we have her, want to stay here and make sure that she doesn’t wake up?” You nodded and sat down in a chair next to the bed, silently watching her slow breathing. You couldn’t help thinking about how it would be if you and Jihyun got to keep her; even though it had only been a few hours, she was slowly embedding her way into both of your hearts.

-

“Daddy!” Lucy cried as she launched herself into Jihyun’s arms, excited to see him after he had spent all day in his art studio.

“Hey there, princess! How was your day?” Lucy was comfortably cuddling into Jihyun’s crouched form and she beamed at him.

“It was good, mommy and I made some dolls!” She cried out, giving him a big thumbs up with one had and showed him one of the many dolls you both had sewn that day with the other. The one she was holding looked like her. Jihyun grinned up at you and you found a similar smile on your face.

A few months after you and Jihyun found Lucy in the alleyway, Lucy wedged her way into your family and hearts. After a thorough police investigation, they found that Lucy’s birth parents weren’t fit to take care of her and since all three of you were attached, they let you legally adopt the little girl. It wasn’t hard for Lucy to acclimate to your and Jihyun’s life. She woke up around the time your boyfriend’s alarm went off, sometimes a little earlier and got ready with Jihyun. She usually ended up spending the day with you because Jihyun got distracted easily having her around. About a month of getting in this routine, she started calling you mommy and Jihyun daddy. Jihyun had sobbed like a baby the first time she called him that.

“Nice job, Luce! I bet you helped a ton.” Jihyun looked up at you for agreement and you nodded your head eagerly.

“She’s such a big help, she stuffed all of them with fuzz and picked out their clothes.” You looked down fondly at your little family and Lucy looked so pleased with herself.

“How was your day, daddy?” Jihyun stood up, walking over to you and pressing a quick kiss on your lips and then a kiss on Lucy’s forehead.

“Better now that I get to see you both,” you sent a concerned look to Jihyun, wondering what could have been so stressful that day, and he shook his head, turning back to Lucy. “What do you think about about going for some ice cream tonight?”

“Really, daddy?” Lucy was bouncing on her toes, and when Jihyun nodded her head, she went to go find her other dolls to tell them what was going on.

“You okay?” You grasped Jihyun’s hand and he squeezed it back lightly.

“Yeah, just a long day.” Jihyun’s voice was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was exhausted. “I’ve been trying to finish more paintings quickly so I can sell more.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, Jihyun running his hand through his hair that has been trapped in a hat all day. “Why on earth would you do that? We’re fine between the two of us.”

“I want to be a good father! I just want to make sure that if anything ever happens for some reason, that Lucy will be safe and we won’t have to worry about anything.”

You opened your mouth to respond but closed it when Lucy came running into Jihyun’s legs, wrapping her little arms around his left one. He lifted his foot up, picking Lucy up with it as well and her giggle rang throughout the whole house.

“Can we go now daddy?” Lucy detached herself from Jihyun’s leg and reached her arms out for him.

Jihyun took her cue, picking her up and you blushed as Jihyun’s muscles rippled when he picked up your daughter. “Of course we can, princess.” You walked out the door before Jihyun and looked back at Lucy. “What flavor do you think you’re gonna get, Luce?”

Lucy looked thoughtful for a moment before her face lit up. “Chocolate!”

Jihyun laughed, tickling her side lightly. “You definitely are my kid,”

Your face fell and Jihyun looked at you, silently asking if you were okay. Once the ice cream shop was in sight, Lucy demanded to be put down and she ran through the doors, greeting people in there and choosing a table to sit at. “Now it’s my turn to ask. You okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that comment you made about Lucy being your kid.” You took a deep breath, grabbing onto Jihyun’s arm that he offered to you. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Lucy like she’s our own but she’s not ours.”

Jihyun pulled you closer to him in a side hug and kissed your forehead. “She may not be our blood but that kid loves us so much and we love her so much. Way more than she could ever know. She’s our child, MC.”

You smiled as Jihyun opened the door and you stepped in, Lucy calling to you. “Mommy! Come look! I got my ice cream!”

You sat down next to Lucy, Jihyun settling in on your other side. “That looks good Luce, you gonna let daddy get a bite?” Lucy held out her spoon to Jihyun and right as he was going to clamp his lips over the sweet treat, Lucy brushed it against his nose. Jihyun got up, grabbing Lucy’s sides with a huge grin on his face. “Maybe now I’ll have to eat the rest of your ice cream!”

“No, Daddy!” Lucy protested, reaching for her ice cream that Jihyun was holding over her head. “I’ll let you and mommy have a taste I promise.”

Jihyun gave the brunette little girl her bowl back and she immediately held out a spoon full of ice cream for him to try. “Mm, good choice, Luce. This is some good ice cream.”

“Mommy, do you wanna try some?” You shook your head, enjoying watching your two favorite people.

“I’m okay, thank you darling.”

“Hey daddy?” Lucy turned to Jihyun who was now sitting next to you, his hand brushing against your knee. He hummed, waiting for Lucy to say the next thing. “Next time we get ice cream, can we invite Yoosung?”

“You like Yoosung?” Jihyun asked, him laughing at your excited six year old.

Lucy nodded her head. “Yeah! Yoosung and I are getting married.”

You giggled, looking at the horror on Jihyun’s face. “Does Yoosung know that you guys are getting married, sweetie?”

“Yeah mommy, of course he does!” Lucy rolled her eyes and she popped her last spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. Jihyun went and paid for the ice cream and picked Lucy up, walking gently so she could possibly fall asleep.

When you got back to the house and, Lucy was not asleep. Instead, she excitedly climbed into Yoosung’s lap, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The RFA, minus Jumin, all came over, trying to finalize the details for the next party. They had arrived before you, so Saeyoung used ‘emergencies only’ key to let everyone in.“Yoosung, I told mommy and daddy about how we’re getting’ married.”

Yoosung laughed, glancing at Jihyun. “Did you now?”

“Yeah, daddy didn’t seem to like that too much.” Yoosung giggled along with Lucy and you watched endearingly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, falling asleep within a few moments. Yoosung spent the rest of the night on the couch, holding your daughter and speaking in hushed tones, careful not to wake her.

-

Lucy giggled, running into Jihyun’s legs, shrieking as he picked her up and threw her in the air. “Daddy! Put me down!”

Jihyun put down Lucy and sitting down next to you, giving you a quick kiss as a hello. You smiled. “You finished early today.” You and Lucy were sitting in your front lawn, various blankets covering the grass, and toys strewn everywhere.

“Yeah, figure I’d take a short day so I can be with you guys.” Jihyun’s arms wrapped around your waist and you laughed as Lucy pushed her way in between you two.

“Daddy, when everyone gets here, can we play duck duck goose with Yoosung and Uncle Jumin?” Jihyun laughed, recently Lucy’s been calling Jumin her uncle and no one knows where it came from. It makes everyone laugh.

Since the RFA all got more attached to Lucy, you and Jihyun made it a tradition for everyone to come over and spend “family time” once a week.

“We’ll have to see, Luce. Your old man can’t run like he used to.” Jihyun grabbed his paintbrush out from behind his ear, and Lucy grabbed it out of his hand, placing it behind her ear, just like her father had it..

“Well then Zen can play!” Lucy cried out happily, spotting Zen’s form walking closer to the small group .

“What did you just volunteer me for, yayoulittle monster?” Lucy squealed in fake horror, going to hide behind you, her small fingers digging into your sides.

Zen picked up Lucy from behind, tickling her sides, her joyous giggle ringing down to the street corner. Since Lucy’s gotten to know the other members of the RFA, she quickly took a liking to Zen, teasing him as a younger sister would tease her older brother. It was obvious Zen felt the same way about her because whenever she was in the room with him, he was holding her close or playing with her hair. Jihyun would never admit it but you could always tell: he got jealous when Lucy hung on Zen or any other older male figure.

“When we get inside, me, you, Uncle Jumin, and Yoosung are going to play duck duck goose!” Lucy exclaimed happily, wrapping her arms around Zen’s neck.

You looked at Jihyun and found him looking down at you still. “You guys can go on ahead inside, I’ve got to clean this up and then head to the store to get things for dinner. ”

Jihyun frowned, taking a few toys from your hands. “Zen, I’m gonna stay and help MC, could you maybe take Luce inside and get her cleaned up some?”

Zen grinned at Lucy. “Hear that? It’s me and you tonight, gorgeous.”

Lucy’s lower lip started to tremble and a tear rolled down her cheek. “But I want mommy and daddy!”

Jihyun quickly took her into his arms, you going to wipe her tears. “Baby, daddy and I will be home in a little bit. We just gotta go and get something yummy to eat.”

“Yeah, Luce. You can go home and practice playing duck duck goose with Uncle Jumin and Zen and Yoosung so when I get home, we can play it for real and you’ll be so good at it.”

Lucy let out another sob. “But I’m already good at it!”

You giggled quietly and Lucy sent you a betrayed look. You shut your mouth and looked your daughter softly. “Zen’ll help you put on a pretty dress that matches your doll. You love playing dress up! And Zen makes it so fun.”

“But only when you guys are there.” Zen reached his hands out for Lucy, despite her loud protests.

“The longer we’re here, the longer it takes for mommy and daddy come back. Let’s go inside and get ready to see Yoosung?”

Lucy brightened up at Yoosung’s name. “I love Yoosung.”

You giggled, looking at Jihyun’s annoyed face. “I know, so we’re gonna go play with him while mommy and daddy get dinner and by the time we’re done playing, mommy and daddy will be on their way home.” Zen set Lucy down and took her hand leading her away from the front lawn and you smiled; it was nice to have people around who loved Lucy almost as much as you and Jihyun did.

Once you and Jihyun got back to the house from grabbing some noodles and vegetables for everyone to eat for dinner, you found Jumin, Zen, Yoosung, Saeyoung, Saeran and Jaehee sitting on the floor while Lucy was walking around them, tapping their heads. How she got all of them to agree was a mystery to you, but it was endearing to watch, nonetheless. “Duck, duck, duck… GOOSE!”

She tapped Saeyoung on the head and started sprinting around the circle, setting herself down in his spot before he had a chance to tag her. “Room for one more?”

Lucy’s head shot toward Jihyun’s voice and she quickly moved to push Saeran aside. “There’s room right next to me daddy!”

Jihyun settled in next to Lucy and brushed a piece of her hair back. “This is a lot more people playing duck duck goose than what you planned before.”

Lucy grinned at Jaehee and she smiled right back. “They can’t say no to me, I’m too cute.”

-

You frowned as Lucy stomped into the house, a pout on her face as Jihyun trailed behind, calling out to her. “Luce, come on sweetheart.”

Lucy turned around sticking her tongue out at her dad. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

After Lucy disappeared from the living room, you wrapped your arms around Jihyun’s neck, him burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. “What happened?”

“She asked me if she was allowed to go around the neighborhood by herself with some friends.” Jihyun’s voice was muffled but you could still understand him.

“And you told her no?” You stroked your hand through the hair on his neck and he nodded his head.

“She’s too little! She could get lost. Or worse, some other family could decide they want a little girl with curly brown hair and pink cheeks and they’ll just pluck her off the street and I’ll never see my little girl again.” Jihyun sniffed against your shoulder and your heart broke when you realized that he was crying.

“Hey, Lucy loves us just as much as we love her. She wouldn’t even think about leaving, and if she was going to get taken, she’d fight and there would be someone around who could help her.” Jihyun pulled away, rubbing at his eyes. “I think we should let her try going alone.” Jihyun opened his mouth to start to argue but you cut in before he could. “Tell her she’s allowed to walk alone to the library with some friends. If she does well with that, we can let her go other places close to here as well.”

“I guess it would be good for Lucy to start be coming independent. When we were this age, we were walking around the neighborhood like we owned it..” Jihyun rubbed his hand down his face. “But we should talk to her about it first, safety precautions and all that.” You nodded your head, agreeing. Jihyun smiled softly, grabbing your hand and going to find Lucy.

“Alright Lucy,” Jihyun knelt down in front of the seven year old. “You be safe out there, if someone looks scary, you don’t have to say anything, just run home with your friends.” Jihyun pressed his palm to her cheek and Lucy squirmed away, antsy to go off with her friends who were waiting in front of the house. “And one last thing, if you don’t like this, come find mommy or me and we’ll walk with you.”

Lucy nodded her head. “I’ll be fine,” she pressed a kiss to each of your cheeks before running out the door. “C’mon, let’s go!”

You smiled, watching Lucy run off with her friends. You turned to Jihyun who was biting on his fingernails nervously. “She’ll be fine, you know that, right? She’s a smart kid.”

“She’s growing’ up so fast.” Jihyun looked down at his socked feet.

“She’ll always be your little girl,” You reminded him, resting a hand on Jihyun’s shoulder.

Jihyun laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. “She’ll always be our little girl.”

You didn’t see Lucy at lunch time, and so you assumed she was having a good time with her friends. When she walked in the house with a smile on her face, you cast a ‘I told you so’ glance at Jihyun. “How’d it go?”

Lucy hugged you tightly and then went to Jihyun, him not hesitating to pick her up. “It was amazing! It was so much fun.” Lucy beamed at her father, and you looked at his face, a fond look he reserved for only you and Lucy grazing his lips.

“I’m glad you had a good day angel,” Jihyun said, kissing both of her cheeks.

“Yeah but now I’m tired,” Lucy yawned making you giggle. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight daddy?”

Jihyun grinned at you; you were right when you said that she’d always be his little girl. “Of course you can, princess.”

-

“Jihyun, look at her! She’s a stunner! Who would thought you’d have to give her away so soon.” Jumin teased elbowing your boyfriend in his side.

“Shut up Jumin, it isn’t that funny.” Jihyun spat out, glancing over at Lucy who was adorned in a white dress Jumin had gotten made specially for this day.

“And to think, she’s marrying another RFA member!” Saeyoung exclaimed, throwing an arm around Jumin and Jihyun’s shoulders.

When you walked in the room, Jihyun shuffled over to you and you sent him a small smile. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like this,” he mumbled, moving in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Jihyun, it’s a fake wedding and everyone’s having fun planning it.” You gave him a chaste kiss. “Besides, this is the happiest I’ve seen Lucy in a while, don’t ruin her fun. Little girls are supposed to play dress up and I’m just glad that everyone else is playing her game.”

You grinned as Lucy ran up to you, hugging herself to your left leg tightly. “Mommy, can you go find my fiancé and see if he’s ready to get married?”

You glanced at Jihyun, whose face was almost as red as his last painting and you rubbed a soothing hand across Lucy’s forehead. “Sure, but you gotta do something’ for me too okay?” She nodded her head and you leaned down so you could whisper in her ear. “Give daddy a big hug and kiss and tell him how he’s still your favorite guy.”

Lucy launched herself into Jihyun, squealing eagerly as he picked her up and hugged her real tight. “Daddy, you’re still my favorite person. You know that right?”

You watched as a huge smile spread across Jihyun’s face and he kissed Lucy’s forehead. “You’re my little girl, you’re just growing up so fast.”

You turned away, letting them have a father-daughter moment before Lucy’s ‘wedding’ and you went to go find Yoosung. You found him in the bathroom, him adjusting a bow tie from a suit he borrowed from Zen for the special occasion. “Hey, lover boy. Ready to go get married?”

Yoosung’s face broke into a grin and he turned to you. “Lucy’s a good kid, I’m just glad I can make her happy by playing along.”

“Just make sure not to break her heart, Yoosung. Or Jihyun might actually kill you.” You put on a fake stern face and Yoosung started laughing.

“Yes, Mrs. Kim,” he replied, seeing your face fall slightly. “sh*t, I’m sorry if that hit a nerve, MC. You guys just already act like you’re married and-”

“Yeah, no, I get it. Let’s go get you married.” You cut Yoosung off, holding out your arm to guide him to where he needed to go. When you guided Yoosung into the living room, you grinned at what you saw.

The members had cleared an aisle in your living room for Lucy to walk down, chairs lined up on either side so they could watch the wedding. Zen standing at the ‘altar’ which was really just the doorway to the house with the door open. You walked Yoosung down to go stand beside Zen before going and taking a seat in the front row by Jumin, leaving a space in between for Jihyun. You saw Zen nod at Saeyoung.

Saeran started playing ‘Here Comes the Bride’ on his phone, signaling that the wedding was starting. You turned around, giggling as Saeyoung walked down the aisle, throwing flower petals where he saw fit. When he got near Yoosung, he dropped the rest on the floor in a huge clump and went to go sit by Jaehee and Saeran.

Next came your two favorite people: Lucy and Jihyun. Lucy’s pink cheeks were more pink than normal, probably due to excitement, and she was tugging on Jihyun’s hand, practically pulling him down the aisle. Everyone was standing in true wedding fashion, and once Lucy reached the alter with Jihyun, Jihyun leaned down to give her a hug and a kiss and came and stood next to you.

“Alright, will everyone be seated?” Zen announced and you took Jihyun’s hand as you sat down, him rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the wedding of Miss Lucy and Mister Yoosung. Lucy, would you like to state your vows?”

You and everyone else in the audience laughed slightly as Lucy waved at Jaehee. Jaehee had helped Lucy with her vows and has been very excited to tell them to Yoosung. Lucy cleared her throat and joined her hands behind her back, something her and Jihyun both did when they were nervous. “Yoosung. Yoosung Kim,” she started, making Yoosung giggle. “I love you a lot, especially when you play tic tac toe with me.” Everyone in the audience looked at her expectantly and she threw you an exasperated look. “I’m seven, not a genius. I’m done. It’s Yoosung’s turn.”

You watched as Yoosung kneeled down on his knee so he could be at eye level with Lucy. “Lucy, you are such a good kid. You manage to put a smile on my face every day. Thank you for that.”

You watched your daughters face light up into a big smile and she threw her arms around Yoosung’s neck. “So do you, Lucy take Yoosung to be your husband?” Zen asked and Lucy nodded her head.

“I do.”

“And do you, Yoosung take Lucy to be your wife?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“You may now kiss your bride.” Zen said, sending a smirk at Jihyun who got elbowed in the side by Jumin.

“Yeah, that’s okay.” Lucy said, hugging Yoosung. “Yoosung has germs so I only let him kiss my cheek.” She pulled away, pointing at her cheek and Yoosung leaned in, planting a huge kiss where she gestured for him to kiss. After she got her kiss, she ran over to you, Jihyun, and Jumin, climbing into Race’s lap. “Uncle Jumin, did ya see that? I just got married!”

Jumin laughed, tapping Lucy on the nose affectionately. “I sure did.. And, wow, did you look pretty.”

Lucy looked pleased, climbing off of his lap and running over to Yoosung who scooped her up in his arms. “Hey, what do you think about going to get some ice cream as a wedding present?”

“I think that I married the best person ever!” Lucy exclaimed glancing at you.”Mommy, can I go?” You nodded your head and Lucy looked at Yoosung and whispered in his ear.

“Hey Jihyun,” your new ‘son-in-law’ called out. “Wanna come with?”

Jihyun smiled softly, glancing at you slightly. “No thanks, I have do something here, thanks though. Have fun.” Yoosung nodded, setting Lucy down so that they can go walk to her favorite ice cream shop..

You turned to Jihyun, ready to ask him what he had to do here but he was already starting to talk. “Can we like, go outside or something?” You nodded your head and Jihyun took a hold of your hand, pulling you outside of the house, you shivering as the cool air hit your skin.

“What’s going on?” You asked and Jihyun shushed you.

“I was going do this weeks ago but everyone seemed so busy planning this wedding that it seemed like I should wait but now I don’t want to wait. f*ck, I want a wedding like this, MC. Our friends, and Lucy and I want it soon. We’ve been together for what, 3 years now? I think we’re more than ready to do so,” Jihyun stopped, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring, kneeling down on one knee. “Will you, MC LN, marry me?”

Your jaw opened and your eyes welled up with tears. Nodding your head, you knelt to the ground in front of Jihyun and cradled his face in your hands. “Of course, of course.” Jihyun kissed you, cupping your neck with his hands before pulling away and slipping the ring on your finger. “Where did you get this ring?”

He threw you a crooked grin, kissing you again. “Remember when I started selling more paintings? I was saving up.”

“Jihyun, I don’t know what to say.” You replied, kissing him once more.

“Don’t gotta say anything darling. I love you.”

“I love you too, more than you could ever know.”

-

“Here comes the bride,” Lucy started singing, sending a cheerful glance at you as you slowly made your way down the altar. You and Jihyun decided to have the wedding in a park, opting to put some money each month into a fund for Lucy in case something happened to you both. “All dressed and wide!” Lucy exclaimed, winking at Yoosung as he starts laughing. “Here comes the broom,” Lucy paused, giggling slightly. “He’s the best dad.”

“That doesn’t even rhyme, Luce!” Jihyun yelled over the bands music playing that Lucy was singing along to.

Once you made it down the aisle, you kissed Jumin on the cheek; he walked you down because out of everyone besides Jihyun, he was who were closest to. Jihyun grabbed your hands, bringing one up to his mouth so he could press a soft kiss to the top of it. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

You blushed under his intense gaze. “It’s just a dress.”

“And you look amazing in it,” your soon-to-be-husband replied, making you smile.

“Let’s get on with it already!” Lucy called, from her seat on Yoosung’s lap. You had offered her to be the flower girl and she was quite pleased with that idea, until she found out that she had to stay up at the ‘altar’ with you and Jihyun until the officiating part of the ceremony was over.

You turned to the pastor who Jaehee was able to convince to come officiate the wedding on such short notice, since she offered him an invitation to the last RFA party, and he cleared his throat, ready to begin his duties.

“Do you, MC LN take Jihyun Kim to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “I do.”

“And do you, Jihyun Kim take YN LN to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“Hell yeah!” Jihyun exclaimed throwing a wink in your direction. From where she was sitting, Lucy cleared her throat and Jihyun blushed. “Sorry, Lucy. I mean, I do.”

And with that, Jihyun was pulling your waist towards him and his lips met your own before the pastor could even finish saying “you may now kiss the bride.”

All your friends in the audience applauded when you shared your first kiss as husband and wife, but neither of you could hear them, you were too wrapped up in being as close to your husband as you could be.

Pulling away, you giggled as Lucy pushed herself into Jihyun’s arms. “I’ll always be your favorite girl,” she kissed him sweetly on his cheek and Jihyun chuckled softly. “Right daddy?”

“Of course doll! You’re my favorite little girl.” Jihyun wrapped a hand around your upper arm, pulling you close. “But your momma here is my favorite big girl.”

“Hey, watch it!” You teased. “Lucy already called me wide as I was walking down the aisle.”

“And she called me a broom, what are we going to do with her?” Jihyun asked, raising his eyebrows mischievously at you. “Maybe a tickle fight?”

“Noo!” Lucy exclaimed, shrieking and running away and jumping into Yoosung’s arms. “Save me! They’re gonna tickle me to death!”

Yoosung clutched Lucy to his chest dramatically as your daughter giggled, cheeks tinting even more pink when Yoosung pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re safe with me, my beautiful wife!”

You laughed softly and turned toward Jihyun as he tensed in jealousy. “Calm down, darling. It’s a good day, you don’t have to get all jealous over nothing.”

Jihyun rolled his eyes at you and leaned down to brush his lips over yours. “What’s there to be jealous about? I’ve finally got you as my wife. Forever.”

You smiled, connecting your lips once more. “Forever and ever.” You agreed, kissing Jihyun again slowly, not having to worry about anything besides being in his arms. Lucy came up and wrapped her arms around one of your legs and one of Jihyun’s. You broke away from Jihyun and smiled down at your daughter, picking her up. Both you and Jihyun kissed one of her cheeks and she smiled happily, nuzzling into your neck. “And I couldn’t be happier with our little family.”

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those were beautiful dreams

happy birthday @calormen!!! i hope u enjoy this angst fic and have a really nice bday!!

this is also on ao3 for easier reading!...

The air in England feels heavy. There’s a smog always hanging over the skyline, settling into his chest as an unbearable weight, like a stone pressed over his ribs. The ever present noise of chatter and movement stifles everything else and without anything to focus on, it’s dizzying. He remembers this; it’s always been like this, buzzing with energy and loud and heavy. He remembers how he’s missed it those first few weeks in the countryside where they were safe from the bombings.

Now, Edmund desperately wishes to leave England.

It’s not the world’s that’s changed, but him, through three lifetimes of joy and heartbreak. And though he longs to leave and settle somewhere familiar, nowhere resembles Narnia. Even the countryside and the manor felt wrong; a stillness in the air that set his nerves on edge, always a sign of some oncoming danger that never revealed itself.

Edmund, now and again and again, is just a boy trapped in the wrong everything.

It would hurt more if he was alone. It still hurts.

Peter and Lucy turn to each other; they’ve always been a pair. Peter looking out for Lucy and Lucy looking up to Peter. They speak of Narnia in fond tones, always when no one else is there to hear what they speak of, and the memories they have only become stronger when shared.

He used to have that bond with Susan. Used to.

The first time they came back to England, Susan had found him unable to sleep and took his hand in hers. She said, “It’s alright. We can do this again. We’ll help each other through it all until we learn how to live again.”

After a lifetime of sharing fears and nightmares, defending each other against those who refused to accept who they were, shared in the delight of a world that let them be who they are. The despair of coming back to world that only wanted to hurt them, one where hiding was survival and honesty was condemnation, Edmund couldn’t understand how he would live knowing something better was possible.

But Susan was there, just as she always was. She was there until Aslan told her and Peter they would never return, and she walked out into that train station and left him behind.

Edmund looks at Susan and desperately wishes to go back in time to a place where they stuck together and shared stories of Narnia just to find hope in this world. Susan keeps her door closed and never comes down to the kitchen in the middle of the night. It’s only Edmund who cannot sleep.

And so he remembers, but he remembers alone.

It starts a week after their coronation.

Everything before had been a whirlwind of movement and fear. This is the first time he is able to rest, and with it, able to think.

He wonders if he will ever see his parents again. If he will ever be able to go home. He wonders if he wants too.

It feels like there is a noose around his neck these days, and every breath is a struggle. The guilt of betraying his siblings when all he wanted was someone to care, the chill of the ice that seeps into his bones, the feel of his blood on his hand as he lay dying on a battlefield, just a child caught up in the struggles of higher powers.

He wonders how any of the Narnians can stand to see him.

Rather than deal with nightmares for another night, Edmund instead chooses to wander the quiet halls of Cair Paravel, slowly becoming familiar to him. The guards nod to him as he passes, and Edmund hurries past them, unable to look them in the eyes.

Not a single one asks why he’s up. Why would they? He’s one of their kings, of all things, and so he is free to do as he please. Edmund wishes, not for the first time, that he could be just a child again.

He stops in a private courtyard, tucked away between wildly growing bushes and doric columns that line the edges. It’s an ideal place to hide, somewhere people know to look when they need to find him, but somewhere people rarely intrude.

But someone is already here. At the edge of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard sits Susan, with a shawl given to her by the Beavers wrapped around her.

“Ed,” she says, standing, “What are you doing still up at this hour?”

“I could be asking you the same thing,” he answers.

She sits back down and says nothing more. Edmund wishes she would smile again. She looks so much like their mother; worried, with her brow always furrowed, arms crossed defensively over her chest. But her eyes carry the same sadness of their father.

He takes a seat next to her. “I have no idea what we’re doing here.”

“Kings and queens, can you imagine? And yet,” she sighs, “Here we are. Somehow.”

“Should we try to go back home?”

“I… I don’t know. Part of me wants to, but it would just be going back into war. We may not fight in that one, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s happening. Narnia is in peace now. I want to hide away for a little longer.”

“We can,” Edmund says, “But I don’t feel like I deserve to.”

Susan turns to him with a frown. “If you are blaming yourself for the actions of Jadis, you better stop before I make you.”

“I still went to her,” he tries to argue, giving voice to one of the many thoughts that has plagued him for the past week. “It was still me who turned my back to the Narnians.”

“You did no such thing! Jadis enchanted you. She gave you sweets and warmth and lied to you, then blinded you with her magic and pulled you away from us. It’s her fault, not yours. How could you have known any better? You’re a kid. We’re all just kids.”

Her voice fades away by the time she stops speaking, hunching in on herself. “Ed, what are we doing? How are we going to rule a country in a world we never knew about before?”

Edmund leans against her; she’s always found comfort in the physical presence of others. Always reaching out and holding them all close.

“I wish I knew,” is all he can say. “I wish I knew.”

She wraps an arm around his shoulder. “At least everyone here is nice,” she says, forcing herself out of her negative thoughts. “They’re all happy to teach me more about Narnia. And the maids they assigned to me were really nice about helping me dress. I surprised them, but they got me new clothes that made me feel pretty. It’s not so uncommon here, people like us.”

“I mean, they gave us weapons. I’m sure they’re going to be fine with a lot of other things too.”

“Shush you, I’m trying to cheer us up.” She shoves him, and when he laughs, Susan finally smiles.

“I know,” he says, “Thanks, Su. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Edmund finds her on the balcony, three hours into the ball. He didn’t mean to stumble upon her, but he desperately needed some air, a quiet place where he could gather his thoughts. It seems that Susan beat him to it.

“Ed,” she says, turning around to face him, “I thought you’d be busy dancing.”

“I got tired. Needed some time to rest. What are you doing out here?”

Susan stares out into the distance for a long moment. She’s perfectly still, looking like a sculpture of some mourning maiden. “Hiding, I suppose,” she answers.

“From what?”

“The future.”

Edmund settles against the railing besides her. “Four years since we were crowned,” he muses, “We’ve changed quite a lot, don’t you think?”

“Have you thought about England recently? Of going back, of our parents. Anything.”

“No. I haven’t thought about it in a long time.” It surprises him, to hear Susan speak of England. To hear England at all. He’s fully settled into Narnia, where the language rolls smoothly off his tongue and the weight of a sword is familiar in his hand. England almost feels like a dream now; of giant stone buildings and skies full of smoke, trains and cars and only people filling the streets. His memories of England are colorless and painful.

He’s had every reason to forget England, and none to remember it.

“What brought this on?” Edmund asks, breaking the silence again.

“Someone asked for my hand in marriage.”

“Someone what?!”

Susan smiles just a little at his shock. “Yes, it appears that I am now old enough to be courted. I hadn’t thought of it before. Or, I thought of it back in England, before we came here, and now I can’t really imagine what the future will look like.”

“Oh.” Marriage. That’s something he hasn’t thought about at all. He’s been so focused on keeping Narnia safe, helping all who sought his aide, looking after the those who were forgotten. He never believed that anyone would want him in that way and banished that line of thought from his mind entirely. But now…

“What are you going to do?” he asks before he can get lost in his thoughts, as he tends to do.

“I said no, of course. I don’t think I’m ready yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“We’re still young,” Edmund says, “You have time.”

“Peter’s been asked too,” she remarks casually, “But he didn’t notice. Mentioned it to me and was shocked when I told them what they were really asking.”

“That sounds like him.”

“Ed?”

He looks at her. “Yeah?”

Susan looks up at the stars, head tilted back. Her hair has grown long over the years, tumbling down her back and ending at her hips. It shocks him to realize how much she’s changed. How much they’ve all changed.

Their parents wouldn’t recognize them anymore. The thought doesn’t hurt at all. It doesn’t make him feel anything. But none of them had had parents in a long time. He wonders if Lucy even remembers their mother’s face.

“Ed,” Susan says again, “Are you happy?”

He looks back into the ballroom, full of light and music, where couples twirl and laugh and sing. He looks out over the lands he can see from the balcony, green and prosperous. He looks at Susan, who holds herself tall and carries an air of confidence that only really emerged in Narnia.

“I am. I think I am. Are you?”

“I’m getting there.”

The arrow nearly hits him. It doesn’t, of course, because Susan is the one shooting and her aim is impeccable.

Peter and Lucy are known to be reckless and pull incredible stunts while training just because they can, so Susan and Edmund are known as the rational ones. But those who know them better know that they are just as reckless as Lucy and Peter, just quieter about it.

Edmund readies his sword again, eyes on Susan as she nocks another arrow.

She is still, gauging the distance between them, then moves suddenly and lets loose the arrow.

The moment the arrow goes flying, Edmund moves, swinging his sword upwards in a quick slash, then bringing it back down again.

At his feet is another arrow, cut in two.

“Shall we stop here for today?” Edmund asks, sheathing his sword. The sun is high above them, steadily shining at its zenith. There are only a few clouds in the sky, and so the few hours of training has their faces flush and sweat dripping down their cheeks.

“Yes, it’s about time for lunch.” Susan slings her bow over her shoulder and wipes her face with her sleeve. “I’ll be sure to catch something tomorrow with my aim. Even if it’s not the white stag.”

“Save some confidence for the rest of us, will you?”

“As if you need a bigger head.”

Susan laughs when he jokingly pushes her away, and tosses her braid back over her shoulder. A few faun children wave at them as they pass, grinning widely and jumping to get their attention. Susan smiles back as Edmund waves, and the children giggle as they go back to their game, filling the space with their laughter.

“It’s been so nice lately,” Edmund comments. “No threats, no diplomatic guests coming, no horrible tragedy coming to strike us down.”

“Quiet enough to let us have some fun. I hope it stays like this for a while longer.”

“I’m sure it will. I can hear you start to worry, Su. Stop thinking so much about the future and just focus on enjoying this hunt.”

She sighs, but relents. “I suppose you’re right.”

“It’s been known to happen, yes.”

“Shush. Well, we’ll only be out for a few days and we’ll be able to ride back quickly enough should something come up. This will be a nice break.”

Edmund hmms a quiet agreement, and looks over the busy halls of Cair Paravel. It’s always lively during the day, full of knights training and staff organizing the castle. But there is a lightness to everyone as they move. A light in every eye. Compared to the stress of the first few years of their reign, when Jadis’ supporters continued to cause trouble, where each Narnian was on the lookout for the next disaster, now there is a calm that allows everyone to smile more easily. The peace has settled into the foundations of the land and it truly is a Golden Age they live in.

Edmund looks upon all this, and thinks that though he is excited to have a break and leave the castle with just his siblings, he’ll always be happy to return home.

Of course, none of them know yet of the lamppost in the forest, one they’ve long since forgotten, or the world that waits for them still on the other side of the wardrobe. None of them are prepared for the guilt and heartache that comes from unwillingly abandoning the world they cared for so dearly. None of them know yet the feeling of looking at the reflection of themselves and seeing a child they can’t recognize. But that is a story for another day.

He hasn’t seen Susan in decades. Susan hasn’t seen him for a year. The distance between them is larger than ever.

Part of him wishes he could blame her for turning her backs on them. For refusing to remember Narnia and avoiding them as much as possible in order to form new relationships in this world. But Edmund understands Susan, always has, more than Peter and Lucy. The two middle children, often overlooked and forgotten, who turned to each other for support.

Now, it’s just Edmund, alone, as Susan spends another night out.

He had tried to tell her about his time in Narnia, the life he’s lived, the love he’s held. But the moment he mentioned that he grew old and had children and grandchildren in Narnia, Susan had looked at him coldly, and told him to stop daydreaming so much.

She left, and none of them have seen her since.

Lucy reassures him that Susan has been home; she’s grabbed her library books and another set of clothes early in the morning before leaving again. Lucy also tells him that he can talk to her, that she wants to know about his last time in Narnia after she and Eustace left.

But it’s not quite the same.

So Edmund spends another night unable to sleep, struggling to find his footing in a world he left behind two times over, when the front door opens.

Susan comes in, pulling her hair out of a ponytail and toeing off her shoes. She barely glances at him as she grabs a cup and puts on the kettle.

Neither of them speak.

Edmund carefully keeps his gaze on the table, no longer able to break the silence between them. The stillness of the kitchen settles like a noose around his neck. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time; the tightness of his throat, the heaviness in his chest, the way the world seemed to press down on his shoulders until he couldn’t move at all.

Is it guilt or fear? They’ve always felt the same to him.

“Fifty years,” Susan says, and the suddenness makes Edmund flinch. “You come up with the strangest things.”

“I was happy there. I wasn’t alone.”

“It doesn’t do anyone any good for you to be stuck in your daydreams. You should focus on what’s in front of you. I’m sure someone will catch your fancy.”

Edmund bristles at that; she dismisses him so casually, as though anyone could replace Caspian. He bites his tongue and keeps his silence.

She sighs. The kettle begins to whistle, and she quickly takes it off the heat. “I’m just trying to help you.”

There is nothing to say to that. He knows she is. Knows she’s determined to live another life here and refuses to let grief pull her down. But she’s forgetting everything they shared together, and that is what hurts him the most.

“I never really took you as the sort who would want kids. Tell me about your daydreams. They sound nice.”

He wants to. He almost does.

But.

They’re not daydreams, and talking about the people he loves as though they’re not real isn’t something he’s capable of. It isn’t something he wants to be capable of.

“It’s late,” Edmund says instead, “Goodnight Su.”

Two years after the funeral, Susan finally has the courage to open the boxes that hold her families belongings. Five boxes were all that were left after she sold the houses and the furniture and most of the clothes. Five boxes that were left to gather dust in her attic before she finally decided to open them.

She finds sketchbooks filled with fauns and dryads and centaurs. Lucy’s work, which she was so proud of. Peter’s novels, with comments written in the margin, full of questions that were never answered. A favorite blanket, a stack of cards that have been painted over, pictures and memories.

Susan doesn’t cry.

There’s a wrapped present in the bottom of one of the boxes. To Susan, says Lucy’s handwriting. She always got people’s birthday gifts early and waited impatiently until she could give it.

Susan hasn’t celebrated her birthday for a few years. It always hurt too much.

The present is a shawl, and it resembles the one the Beaver’s had given her years (decades, lifetimes) ago. She doesn’t notice how hard she’s gripping the shawl until a tear lands on her right hand and makes her look down. Carefully, Susan wraps it around herself, and thinks back to all the times she wore it, sitting on the fountain in the courtyard.

Edmund often appeared there late at night. He’d keep her company until they nearly talked themselves to sleep. She wonders if he remembered it. He remembered a lot. He’s always had a good memory.

Not that it matters now. She’s the only one carrying these faded memories, holding onto the last remnants of her family.

The last box she opens is full of journals. Lucy’s, Peter’s, and Edmund’s. Most are Edmund’s.

Reading them doesn’t feel right, but these are the only things that still carries their voices, and Susan wants desperately to hear them again.

So she takes a few days off work, reads through them with careful fingers, and takes care not to let any tears ruin the pages.

Lucy writes of dryads and mermaids, her longing for the sea, how she spends every day searching for another way back. Peter writes of doubt and restlessness, feeling distance between himself and his peers, wanting to help in any way he can.

And Edmund.

His life is documented with care, written in his steady hand. The bombings, Jadis, the coronation. Sleepless nights, battles, and a white stag. Caspian and his children and his grandchildren and a whole life Susan refused to listen to because her own hurt blinded her to his.

Caspian sent me off and I found myself walking to the kitchen where Eustace was. I laughed when he startled, but the pain of leaving Narnia behind swallowed me whole. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I remember the first time we came back, all of us, and Susan and I turned to each other. We worked together often and shared so many memories.

It helped, not being so alone back then. But this time, after decades and a year, Susan left and I had no one else. I understand why she did it. Susan has always been the type to distract herself from pain by working herself to the bone. But I was in an unfamiliar world with a family I hadn’t seen for a lifetime.

I should have known things would change. I just wish they hadn’t.

Susan, don’t be alone. I know I will never be able to say this to you, but please don’t forget. Our memories in Narnia are all we have of each other now. And no matter what, remember that we all love you. We always will.

The last journal read, the last box opened. Susan weeps, grieves for two lifetimes lost, grieves for a family pushed away, and finally stops lying to herself.

And so she remembers, but she remembers alone.

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Random HCs for Some of My Verses

Future’s Blurry (the Past is a Trap) verse:

-Glaucus has no idea how he wound up with a pet mad scientist. He WENT there intending to kill Besithia, he DID. Instead he found himself with a mad scientist on his heels, complaining about not having a fancy lab anymore and needing it if he’s going to prove Glaucus wrong.

-Oh yeah, Glaucus thinks with a squint, somewhere in the whole“somehow not killing the scientist” (not that he COULD, Prompto had come from that man and if there was a chance ... well, he loved Prompto more than he hated Besithia, it would be worth the annoyance) Glaucus had said that Besithia wasn’t smart enough or skilled enough to be Really All That™. Besithia had immediately taken offense, forgetting all about his life being in danger in favor of his pride, and demanded HOW DARE. OF COURSE HE WAS.

-Glaucus had snorted something to the order of how if he was REALLY all that he would be able to make a cure/vaccine for the Scourge, not just piddle around infecting things with it and claiming to have done something NEW (the scourge infected everything by nature, essentially infecting machinery wasn’t new, it was just calculated stupidity).

-Glaucus thinks that might have been what led to his acquisition of a scientist actually. Besithia so insulted he’d been willing to defect from the empire that they both knew would never condone a vaccine for their precious Scourge just to prove Glaucus WRONG.

-At one point he has to stop and laugh hysterically over the fact that he just took out Niflheim’s R&D division at the kneecaps. By doing a slightly (SLIGHTLY) more adult version of Double Dog Daring their head scientist.

-There’s also the fact that, to get proper funding, housing, and equipment for his new pet scientist, Glaucus could no longer just subsist on bounties from Hunts and dragging Ardyn from hotel to hotel. No, he needed money, manpower, resources that couldn’t be tracked.

-Lucky for him, he was once Cor the Immortal, the guy in charge of busting illegal butts and then later in charge of the surviving population of humanity in the Long Night. He knew a thing or two about discreet resources and acquisition of funds.

-The Insomnia Underworld had no idea what hit it. It feels like one minute their going about their days, discreetly infighting between the families, laundering their illegal items, the next minute everything is being taken over like dominos by an icy-eyed TEENAGER that can’t seem to DIE no matter what is thrown at him.

-By the end of the year post getting his scientist, Glaucus had (unwillingly) re-taken his title of The Immortal and was the shadow king of the entire freaking Underworld of Insomnia and a good chunk of Lucis. Anyone who didn’t like his new rules of conduct were killed or kicked out and those who were smart enough to swear loyalty found themselves magically bound by their word (Glaucus had no idea how he pulled off that trick, he blamed the KoL and their shenanigans during the time travel). Glaucus then put some of the less scummy and more intelligent ones in charge and calmly swanned off to go back to running around the wilds taking on Hunts and blowing up Nif bases.

-The new Lieutenants in charge of the underworld on behalf of their new Underworld King all just ... kinda blinked at each other and silently asked“What Just Happened?”

-And that is how Cor/Glaucus ended up the reigning king of the Lucian underworld and Besithia got to play mad scientist in a hidden laboratory all Right Under King Mors’ Nose thank you and good night.

...

Risk the Fall (We Have Felt It All) verse:

-The others in the main cast of the first game get reborn too, don’t @ me.

-As we all know, Lightning is the new Crown Princess of Lucis and Hope is the new Crown Prince of Tenebrae, the others are also their own characters so to speak except for Snow and Serah but we’ll get back to them in a sec.

-Sazh is an Armaugh. He’s Weskham’s nephew and his new name is Sors. He’s three years older than Lightning this time around, but he STILL gets teased as the“Old Man” of the group, which he bears with good humor. He ends up being her Hand, just like Ignis is for Noctis.

-Fang and Vanille are reborn as half-sisters who look nothing alike. Fang is the elder of the two and just as Throw Hands as ever. She’s like- three-ish years younger than Lightning. Vanille is five years younger than Lightning. They don’t have the same mom, and only stumbled on each other by happenstance. They started by recognizing each other from their past life and then started comparing their current one and talking about it was funny that they both came from a fling rather than a marriage. Then they start talking about their respective moms (At least Vanille’s is dead I think? Who knows, but this way Fang gets to adopt Vanille and drag her home)and from there they talked about what little they know of their respective dads.

-And find out their descriptions of appearance and temperament described by their mothers match.

-Eerily so.

-“We’re sisters!” Vanille (who needs a new latin name btw) squeals in joy, throwing her arms around Fang, who just snorts dryly and says,

-“I swore that if I ever met‘im, I’d stab him where the sun don’t shine. But since he gave me you ... I guess I’ll just give him a black eye. Maybe break an arm.”

-Far, far away in Insomnia, Cor pauses and reaches for his sword on instinct, sure for a moment that someone was plotting bodily harm against him. There is no one in the study but him, Regis, and Clarus however, so he shrugs it off a moment later. Probably just the nifs cursing him out for his latest mission or something.

-Snow and Serah come back as canon characters. Because I Said So.

-Luna is 8 years old when she tentatively creeps up to Zagreus/Hope, tears in her eyes, and softly asks“Hope” if she can see her sister.

-Zagreus stares at her in shock, then slowly kneels down to be eye level and whispers,“Serah?”

-She nods, blue eyes so much older than they were just yesterday before something caused her to remember, and Hope kisses her forehead before hurrying off to find his computer. Over Skype, Lightning and Serah cry for joy and sadness.

-“We’re not sisters this time,” pouts Lightning just a little.

-Serah smiles, sugar sweet and innocent,“I guess you’ll just have to hurry up and marry Hope so we can be sisters-in-law.” Both of the elder reincarnates choke on their spit while Luna laughs.

-Meanwhile, somewhere deep in the jungles of Galahd, Libertus tiredly puts ointment on Nyx’s cuts and scrapes while the grinning Ulric holds an ice pack to his black eye,“Just had to pick a fight, didn’t you,” mutters Lib,“always gotta be the Hero.”

-Nyx smiles, and Lib notices it’s that strange, far-off sad one he gets sometimes, the one that makes him look way too old and weary for his years,“I promised,” he says simply, an apology and unknowable explanation all in one. Libertus doesn’t ask WHO he promised, he knows Nyx won’t tell him.“I promised” has been his excuse since they could barely walk. Libertus isn’t sure he wants an answer at this point. Some things just aren’t for mortal men to know.

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if.. if you want to.. since you mentioned wanting to write about percy, something involving him introducing his newborn child (either molly or lucy) to his mother would be pretty sweet

haha…what if I did do that…just kidding…unless…? 👀

———

When Molly was first placed in Percy’s arms, he had quite nearly cried. Only a warning look from Audrey, whose face was soaked with tears already and who had told Percy when she had first gotten pregnant that she would be the only one allowed to cry in the delivery room, kept the tears from flowing. That and a harsh bite on his lower lip, quickly and easily silencing himself and he held the baby closer to his body.

The doctors puttered about Percy and the baby as they worked to clean Audrey up, something the man could have easily done with the wave of a wand, but which was done manually as they were in a muggle hospital. Per Audrey’s request, and, in part, his own. He had been forgiven by his family, yes, and few in the wizarding world knew of the betrayal that he had enacted—opinions on whether his anger was justified or not ranged in how well the opinion holder knew him—but he still worried what those who did know might do. He was assured by many that this fear was unfounded, but Percy had grown cautious since the second war, watching his step more closely than he used to.

After a moment, the doctors and nurses cleared the room, one of them nodding Percy towards a chair they had moved over to sit besides Audrey’s bedside. He took a seat there once the room was empty and proudly presented the baby girl to his wife.

“Boy or girl?” Audrey asked as she took the swaddled, squirming thing from Percy, tucking the baby protectively against her chest even as her competitive streak came through.

“Girl.” Percy answered simply.

“Damn, you won,” Audrey sighed with faux exasperation. She looked down at the baby with a soft smile, ticking the infant’s chin with her finger for a moment.

“You were the one who insisted,” Percy argued in return, not a hint of malice in his voice. He leaned into his wife’s space, peering down at the baby girl once again. He felt a sob building in his throat, a feeling of such unbridled happiness and joy that even the smile that ached across his face was not enough to express.

“Only because I thought I would be right,” Audrey returned, glaring playfully at the other as she shifted about in the bed, making just enough room for Percy to hang off the edge of the bed if he so chose to. He did. He stretched an arm out as he settled uncomfortably on the sliver of mattress that Audrey had granted him and gently caressed the child’s face. His child’s face. The girl scrunched her face up in return, but made no move to cry, as she had when she was first brought out into the open. Instead she stared at her father with bright eyes and gurgled a noise that no one could decipher. “Her name?”

“Molly,” Percy said, having decided it long ago. He pulled his hand from Molly’s face and instead brought it to Audrey’s, pushing himself up so that he was sat more firmly beside her.

“Molly,” Audrey repeated with a smile. She pressed into Percy’s space and placed a chaste, tired kiss on his lips, revealing just how harrowing the whole ordeal had truly been. “It’s a good name.”

༻࿇༺

Molly was pressed comfortably against Percy’s chest, the baby making soft, incoherent noises as Percy trudged the two of them out of Ottery St Catchpole where he had left his car outside a small coffee shop that Bill used to take him to during his summer breaks—before Percy began to attend Hogwarts, as well. It was warm out, a slight breeze bristling through the fields surrounding the town, making it pleasant enough for a walk without it being downright unbearable. Molly seemed to agree with the sentiment, her small head swinging this way and that as if trying to memorize the landscape.

Audrey hadn’t come with the two of them out to the Burrow—although she had made Percy swear not to apparate with the baby, the woman not at all keen of the risks that it could pose for the infant (the argument she had laid out had been unnecessary as Percy had already agreed with the sentiment, but it served to make him not wont to apparate himself for a good while)—deciding to take the day to rest and recuperate after the long five months they had spent caring for Molly. Percy knew it was well overdue for his mother to meet her granddaughter, but he and Audrey had read something in a book that said it was best to wait a few months before introducing infants to others.

He had written his mother a letter when Molly was first born, including with it two muggle photographs: one of just the baby and another that also included him and Audrey, taken by a sweet nurse that had been all too willing to indulge them with a photo. She had written back almost immediately, gushing over the little thing and pleading for her son to bring her by sometime soon. They had exchanged a few more letters since then, but Percy’s reservations were still fresh in his mind making even the most simple interactive tasks nearly impossible for him to act upon if they involved his family. He loved them, there was no doubt, but there was always that nagging part of his mind that wondered if it wasn’t only him who did.

He had contacted Ron early last night to see if Molly would be free tomorrow—no matter how much he had denied it, Percy had always been Ron’s favorite—and the boy had told him when the house would be empty save for her, reading the older’s hesitance easily. He had only given his little brother a grateful smile before popping away from the flue, but only after Ron had wrung a promise from him that he could meet the baby, as well.

The Burrow was in front of Percy’s eyes before he knew it. The walk from the town took less time than he had remembered. He swallowed down a thick ball of guilt and melancholy that gathered in his throat at that thought. He made his way carefully to the front door, both fear of what lay behind the door as well as what lay in wait in the garden keeping him from dashing up to it.

Molly stared blankly up at the building, mouth opening and closing as if she were gawking at what had once been Percy’s home. He grinned down at the baby, bouncing her in his arms enough for her attention to be turned back to him, the infant letting out a gurgle of joy before squirming her arms up into the air towards her father’s face. Molly seemed to have developed a fascination with Percy’s glasses near immediately and was always attempting to get her hands on them in one way or another.

With one hand continuing to support the baby, Percy used the other in an attempt to simultaneously knock on the all too familiar door and knock the baby’s hands from his face, a game which left Molly squealing with joy every time. He heard someone puttering about just behind the door as he pulled his hand from the door and trapped Molly’s baby paws in his own palm, the baby squirming cheerfully in his arms.

“One moment!” He could hear his mother calling from within the house. Those two words, so meaningless in the scheme of things, brought a small smile to his lips, a warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to the other hurrying about. It hadn’t hit him until now just how much he missed his mother. His face felt hot as tears prickled in the backs of his eyes. He blinked them away and took a step from the door to wait for Molly to open up.

As she had promised, a moment later the door was flung open, the woman’s head of crazy red hair making itself known first as she poked it from within the house. It took her a moment to fully recognize Percy—Merlin, that hurt, but he couldn’t blame her—but when she did her face lit up as bright as the Christmas trees that populated Hogwarts’ halls during the season. Her face blanched slightly when she noticed the baby slung across Percy’s chest, but recognition once again settled quickly in.

“Percy, oh my goodness,” Molly’s voice was breathless, as if she couldn’t believe just what was happening before her eyes. She paced slowly out of the house towards him.

“Hi, mom,” Percy replies, a crooked grin spreading across his face. Molly, the little one, not the mother, made a gurgled sound as if to repeat what Percy had said. She knew how to say something that resembled ‘Ma’—as well as ‘Da,’ but she learned it later and Audrey had yet to let him live that fact down—and was quick to use it when Percy greeted his mother.

“Oh, Percy,” Molly repeated, voice filled with emotions as she hurried forward to press herself against her son, wrapping her arms tightly about him while somehow avoiding squishing the baby, who made a noise of slight alarm before settling into the gentle hold.

Percy ducked his head enough to press his face into his mother’s crazy curls, breathing in the scent that would comfort him as a child, that would hold him when he couldn’t sleep and indulge him in reading aloud boring books that no one could understand why he found so fascinating. He wrapped an arm around the woman, as well, one still holding his child as he let himself feel almost childish himself, back when he still held that belief that nothing could happen if mommy was there.

They pulled apart after a moment, Percy’s glasses popping from where they had stuck against his face but blurry with tears he hadn’t known he had shed and strands of Molly’s hair clinging to her face with tears she seemed all too aware of having been poured. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress and waited until Percy had cleaned himself up as well before speaking.

“And who might this be?” She asked, voice still a bit wet as she cooed at the baby in her son’s arms. The baby responded in kind, seemingly recognizing the woman as some sort of relation as she let out a series of squeals and less than intelligible noises, all the while swinging her arms about as if telling some grand story. Percy and his mother laughed at the affair.

“Mother,“ Percy started as he gently moved to hold the baby out to his mother. The older woman hesitated a moment before finally grasping the infant, years of child rearing—seven children left their mark, even if it had been close to 18 since she had last had one herself—allowing her to hold the baby properly. She bounced the girl lightly in her arms. “Meet Molly.”

“Molly,” his mother parroted, another wave of emotions gathering in her voice. She stared at the baby a moment longer before turning up to her son. The smile she wore was enough to rival the sun, the sun that glistened upon the tears once again blooming in her eyes. Percy pulled the older woman into a hug without her needing to be asked, an arm curling around his mother’s shoulders as she turned back to the baby. To Molly.

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re: the losers having kids who become friends

Stan and Patty planned for kids; they were definitely trying before that call came. So when IT is defeated and Stan is a-okay, they finally get the babies they want. Jennifer comes first; she’s a firecracker of a kid. She’s loud and she’s uninhibited and she’s everything that would’ve exhausted Stan as a child. He adores her. He combs her hair at night before bed, and ties ribbons in her pigtails before school, and he’s so incredibly proud to be her father.

After deciding to have their two (and absolutely NO MORE) kids close together, Patty gives birth to little Andrew. He’s very much a follower, and hangs on to his sisters’ every word. She gets them into all sorts of shenanigans, and Andy is a dutiful baby brother. He’s constantly got his thumb in his mouth; which is CUTE.

Stan brags to the other losers that his kids never fight.

Bill and Mike take their time getting together; Billy has a divorce to get through after all. As soon as it’s all said and done though, they start looking to adopt. It doesn’t take long at all -- in fact, it seems like... fate. Whether it is or isn’t, Mike is awed when their little Lucy stumbles through the door.

She has a fairly large burn on the left side of her face, which will become a permanent scar. Her parents died in a car crash, which gave her the mark in the first place. Mike says she looks like an angel, which rapidly gets her out of her shell.

They adopt her as quickly as they can. Then it occurs to them, one CRUCIAL fact they didn’t quite consider: the world............. is horrifically dangerous.

Most of their time is spent keeping Lucy’s curious behind out of trouble. She’s the Tommy Pickles of the kids; danger is her middle name and she also laughs in the face of it. She’s got courage but also... no offense to Bill, but she’s got his Big Stupid. She finds a feral cat and - despite it scratching her to ribbons - she wants to take him home and give him a bath. Mike has to quickly yeet her out of the bathroom and trap the cat inside before calling animal control.

Ben and Bev? They have five (5) kids, which... is on brand. Two sets of twins; Milo and Miles, followed by Olivia and Owen, and then finally their baby, Archie.

Milo Hanscom is a sweet lil poundcake; he’s very much like his dad. If a conversation isn’t going EXACTLY how he mapped it out in his brain, he will turn and walk away with no added explanation. On the other hand, Miles is a lot like his mom. He’ll sneak cigarettes and he’s incredibly smart; he’ll swipe a bag of candy from Keene’s store and sell each piece for a quarter on the schoolyard. Bev has no idea where he gets his income, but she is SUS.

Miles and Jenny are actually best friends; as toddlers, they would go up to each other (sneak up, really), and smack each other on the heads as a greeting.

Olivia and Owen are as close as sisters can be; they have their own language, and both of them are brilliant, scholarly girls. Owen will absolutely stab anyone in the way of her GPA. They’re the masterminds when they’re babies: all those shenanigans the Rugrats get into? Owen or Olivia hatches the plan, and they have their older brothers wrapped around their fingers! So they have the muscle to back up their ideas.

Archie is the super sweet baby child. He is SCARED. Of EVERYTHING.He cried during his first haircut.Animals terrify him.As a baby, he’d sob when the sun disappeared behind clouds.Ben tried playing peekaboo with him once, and Archie was inconsolable bc“WHERE IS MY DADDY?!?”Those kawaii stress balls - the squishy things with cute faces? THOSE are harder than Archie Hanscom.

Finally, we have Richie and Eddie’s kids: Julian and Deana. Biologically (because yes, they chose surrogates), Julian is Eddie’s, whereas Deana is Richie’s. And... it kinda shows through their behavior.

Julian is the first of the Losers 2.0 to say no to his parents.His first word: Nohis second word: Nah-uhhis third word: Nopehis fourth word is stinky, but that’s neither here nor there.

HE KEEPSBREAKING sh*t.Ofc it’s an“accident.”How far can this lamp tilt? How much water is too much for the doggie bowl? How much of this lotion and toilet paper can he fit in the toilet? (He counts to twelve, but to be fair, he skips numbers 3-11 cause he doesn’t know those.“1, 2, 12.”) How much Julian can fit through the doggie door? (the answer is half)

Now Deana-- they panicked in the hospital. Eddie grabbed Richie by the shoulders and said,“Every gay couple our age has a pet or daughter named Diana. We can’t name her after the princess.” and Richie goes,“Psh, of course.” and haphazardly scrawls and“e” over the“i” on her birth certificate.

Julian is one and a half years old when he meets his baby sister, and Eddie carried him in to see the newborn infant. Her weird beady eyes terrify him, and his immediate response is to smack her lil face. This instigates their childhood long fight, because they don’t stop for the next thirteen years.

On Julian’s third birthday he asks for them to take Deana back to the hospital bc,“she’s stinky, and I hate her,” and he smiles like :D when he proposes the idea. He’s convinced Deana is broken because she refuses to eat; she’ll suck the salt off fries, and eat a lil piece of pepperoni off the pizza, but other than that, no thanks!

Now when you get all the kids together? Ultimate chaos! Jenny and Olivia lead all the others on their bikes to ride around Derry, and when Miles finds the Barrens, those girls have the brilliant idea to build a clubhouse. Ofc neither of them wanna get dirt under their nails, so they enlist Miles, Milo, Lucy, and Julian. Deana keeps trying to eat the dirt, and Julian is huffy bc he has to stop her.

Archie screams every time a bug flies by, and Lucy gives him her sweater (she knows he likes it, because it’s a pastel green and v. soft), telling him,“My daddy made this for me, and it protects you from monsters, if you believe it does.”

Throughout digging, each of the kids rotate who brings snacks and games. The Hanscom kids always have a great haul (mostly because there’s more grabby hands to raid their pantry), and everyone is so-so when it’s Julian and Deana’s turn, bc the only sugary thing in their cupboards are cereal.

While everyone’s digging (they’re about two feet into the project at this point), Andy and Owen are playing a game of scrabble. Neither of them wanted to get their hands dirty! Much to Owen’s surprise, Andy wins. She’s not a good loser, and she very huffily throws the board a couple feet away. Andy, a patient and good sport, goes to get it, when he falls through the large mound of leaves.

All the Losers 2.0 panic (Jenny“strangles” Miles as she shouts that her parents will be SO PISSED if she let the earth eat her brother), and are relieved when he pokes his little head out from the leaves. He looks excited, and he shouts,“GUYS LOOK WHAT I FOUND!”

Julian puts Deana in her wagon (which all the other babykids ride in too, so Deana, Archie, Lucy, and usually Andy) and pulls them over - with Milo’s help ofc, and Olivia is the first to venture down. She turns on a flashlight and echoes Andy’s excitement,“GUYS, LOOK!”

Climbing down the ladder, one by one, the kids marvel in complete awe at their discovery. There’s a swing, a dusty old hammock, and even a super old-looking stereo. With a little elbow grease, this hole could be turned into EXACTLY the clubhouse they wanted. Their entire summer goes to making the clubhouse a perfect hangout spot.

One night, while the original Losers Club is having a barbecue, Patty asks,“Where do you think those kids run off to all day?”

Ben fondly thinks back on the clubhouse he and his friends created together, and he can only hope his kids find something half as great.“Probably somewhere fun,” he says.

“It’s probably how it was when we were kids,” Richie says, looking at each of his friends.“The best.”

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Thank you for taking the time and typing up your reply, @alma37.

Now I get where you were coming from. You are def much more attached to Zoe than I am. You don’t need to produce any other arguments and “I like it better this way” is a perfectly acceptable answer. And while I don’t believe Agatha’s return is completely at Zoe’s expense -- given that she would have died anyway --, I understand the pain of watching a favorite character used as fodder for another one’s story.

You’ve also raised some interesting points and the exact questions I’ve been pondering myself, so I’m gonna take this opportunity to just unload my thoughts here. Please don’t take this as me trying to talk you out of your opinion or preferences bc I don’t wanna do that.

This is mostly just me trying to explain my preferences to myself.

"after Blood Vessel, as much as Dracula liked her, I could not see him and Agatha together”

oh yes, theirs is an infinitely f*cked up dynamic, there is no debating that. they are enemies, so murder attempts come w/ the territory, which is not every shipper’s cup of tea and that’s understandable. However, every relationship involving Dracula is f*cked up this way by default since he automatically brings his "inclinations” into it. I guess one could write him already “tamed” and w/ less issues but then it wouldn’t really be him. This is a major thing I love about this show, how they are not afraid to portray him as a full-fledged monster who just keeps coming at you w/ a razor smile -- partly bc he literally can’t help himself. He is a predator who -- to once again quote the commentary -- operates w/ a “torturous sense of fairness” that, to me, echoes the amorality you can observe in the animal kingdom: there is no reasoning with a hungry lion once it’s spotted a zebra; it’s in its nature to hunt prey in order to survive. Empathy or morals don’t factor into this basic conduct.

Dracula has this hard-wired primal drive, too. And Agatha points it out early on when she calls him a beast who doesn’t understand the rules governing its behavior but simply follows them. Of course, he has a point, as well, when he claims he’s more than that. He is. Otherwise, he would just be absolved of all the killing he does, which would feel cheap and unjust and would rob his character of all the fun complexities. Underneath the veneer of a sophisticated nobleman there is a beast, and underneath that grotesque (protective) display are human remains and loads of festering mental health issues. But the only person who bothers to look at these layers and how they inform each other is Agatha. Her equally unyielding drive for knowledge & understanding is the power that allows her to counter him, exert control over him, and tap into his deformed human core in a way nobody else has ever been able to. She does this to save others from him but also to satisfy her own dark fascination, and in the process I think she also comes to feel for him. They reach a level of intimacy that makes this outcome inevitable, imo.

This, in my eyes, makes her pretty much the only person who has any chance at having a more meaningful relationship w/ him that lasts longer than his feeding time. This is also what comes across in Dracula’s indirect advice to Zoe: if she hopes to match him, she will need to conjure Agatha from his blood. He essentially gives her the key to his own destruction (which is also his way out), then retreats and waits. This has the same self-regulating vibe as him convincing himself that his immense supernatural power has ordinary loopholes like needing an invitation to enter or the sunlight. Shame is a control tactic and self-shaming is a form of self-control, albeit a very problematic one. He puts in checks and balances which you wouldn’t do unless deep down you knew you needed to be “checked and balanced” by someone who’s willing to take on the thankless task. He cannot do it, he can’t face himself (he literally smashes mirrors and turns from every reflective surface), but Agatha is willing and able to drag him back into the light.

This is why the parallel to Petruvio & his wife works so well. The design to Dracula’s mind (and therefore the way out) is scattered across time and many myths. Agatha collects these and uses them to lead him out of the prison he’s made for himself, which has its visual parallel in the maps being hidden inside the wife’s portrait.

In other words, I cannot see Dracula with anyone else long term since he sees everyone else as a toy and/or a prey -- a means to an end. That’s how he sees Agatha at first, too, and it takes some time for him to realize that he made a mistake. This delayed realization can also be attributed to his bestial drive that has subdued the rest of him for so long, he really cannot cut through its wiring on his own; he came to exist to continue his existence, and the pointless circularity of this is the biggest trap: despite leaving loopholes, he’s still a prisoner of his own hunger & shame. Feeling for others would make it infinitely more painful but shedding empathy only provides a temporary release. Still, life lived solely for oneself is never fulfilling no matter how long it stretches forward, and the insatiable hunger Dracula feels gels nicely w/ this.

It’s Agatha who breaks the circle when she makes him confront the human origin of all this mess. Once she gets through to him, once she makes him remember, we can witness what Mofftiss call the “beginning of morality” and empathy seeping back into Dracula, and his existence takes on meaning when he chooses to sacrifice his immortality to take away her mortal pain. To me this feels like a direct call-back to the scene where he asks her if she is willing to die to save that terrified child and she tells him she would die to save any terrified child bc “there is a nobler purpose to my life than simply prolonging it.” But Dracula only comes to feel this nobler purpose where Agatha is concerned (baby steps :). He still doesn’t care about anyone else but that could be a juicy problem to tackle next season if there is one. *crosses fingers*

“they needed Agatha to stay human until the end of TDC - but, in that case, why bring her so late in the episode?”

I’m afraid only the writers can answer this one. But my best guess is that there are other characters from the novel -- Lucy especially -- they wanted to play with a little. Since I like them, too, and like how they planted them into this modern setting, I have no problem w/ Agatha taking her sweet time resurrecting. This was also a nice way to show just how bored & lost Dracula is in her absence (side note: him using Tinder as a takeout menu + complaining that he has to exercise now that everything is delivered and doesn’t have to be hunted down will never not be hilarious AF). I have seen a few fans complain about the pacing of ep 3 but I think it provides a nice, strategic contrast to the more dynamic previous episode, again highlighting why Agatha’s presence in his life was so invigorating and how her absence is the opposite -- he is a 500-year old warlord yet his life is now somehow... banal bc he has no worthy match.

“If he really want Agatha so badly, and since Zoe doesn’t come after him (she has other things in mind, understandably), why does he not? To see if his little ply worked? If his dear Agatha is back? The only time Renfield talks about Zoe, Dracula doesn’t seem remotely interested.”

I think he is interested (his suggestion to use bats as surveillance cracks me up every time) and he is waiting. He keeps tabs on the Harker Foundation from a safe distance and, to me, looks rather crestfallen when Renfield tells him that his lady friend (aka Van Helsing aka his “Agatha incubator”) left and seems to have lost all interest in Dracula. I think he expected a different outcome. It’s speculation but I think he expected Zoe to drink his blood (bc it doesn’t come as a surprise later when he notices the changes in her) and expected it to have an effect sooner and time is running out since Zoe is dying. Zoe was supposed to act similarly to the bed of his own native soil (she is a “bed” of Agatha’s DNA) and regenerate Agatha even if it’s temporary. So he is both staying away (survival is still key) and wants her to come after him again -- a delicious contradiction he can’t untangle by himself.

Lack of (threatening) interest, however, is a clear sign that Agatha is not back. If she were, he def wouldn’t have to go and check. She would waste no time seeking him (and indeed she wants to go after him the second she manifests and, as Zoe remarks, Dracula isn’t surprised to find her at his doorstep -- another parallel to ep 1 where it’s Agatha who anticipated him coming for his bride). I think he was waiting for her return just like Agatha was waiting for his in ep 2 (another parallel). It’s Renfield‘s remarks that drive this point home for me as he has a front row seat to what Dracula is like during these 3 months: “I wonder what it is you actually want,” and “What are you doing with your time?” I think it’s no coincidence that both of these questions get answered only w/ Agatha’s return. Dracula basically idles in the meantime. And the fact that it takes Agatha 3 months to properly manifest, when Zoe is the weakest, is def a testament to Zoe’s strength of character. She is a Van Helsing, after all. And they vanquish the monster in the smartest, most elegant way: by making him feel something other than blinding hunger for the first time in centuries.

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A final fantasy fanfiction for my oc and her family.

Characters: Cor Leonis, Laura lucis caelum (my oc), Aurora Tummelt (my oc), Ardyn lucis caelum, Loqi Tummelt

Warning:

Mynationallanguageisnot English. Iapologizeforspelling andgrammarmistakes.

Summary:

When your flesh and blood are mixed with pain and you are nurtured with it, you dedicate your whole being to those who were trying to improve your suffering by touching their love. What's wrong with you? It does hurt to lose these loved ones, even thinking about it bothers you. At that time .. you grab everything to stop the destiny .. like a bird stuck in a cage and trying for freedom, you knock yourself on the door and the wall to find a way ... and if you find it. Nothing can stop you, even if it is a God!

Part 4:

The sound of drops of water dripping on the rocky ground was the only audible sound. The cold and the humidity were clearly felt, and the sound of the wind falling into the holes and piles around made the atmosphere more frightening. For a sleeping monster inside human skin, fear was meaningless! His buried eyelids were finally shaken by a layer of blood, and he slowly saw the ground in front of him like a TV screen full of glitch! Everything was jamming and the sound of the alarm was bothering his brain! Charging urgently needed to get rid of these damn bugs! He moaned relatively loudly and tried to get up, but it seemed like an obstacle in front of him! He frowned and turned his head to see what was going on. He stretched out his hand to break that iron ring, but he felt a sharp pain in all parts of the tension, his hand was broken! And he had just realized. If he didn't release himself, the pain wouldn't let him escape! It's true that he still didn't understand why it was closed! But every wise man knew that when he was chained to the wall like this, his life was in danger! He tried as hard as he could to move his broken left hand and instead turned his head towards his healthy hand. He pressed his lips together and tried to pull his hair out of his eyes by moving his head to the right! He took a deep breath and shook his hand with a sudden movement. He broke the iron ring and released his hand! A half-smiling smile settled on his lips and he quickly turned to release his broken arm, but just before the iron ring had been fenced around his wrist, an arrow came out of nowhere and the palm of his broken hand stared at the wall! He shouted loudly and closed his eyes tightly! He trembled with pain and weakness and saw red everywhere! Slowly he turned to see where the arrow came from and when it would hurt him so much. He hadn't fully turned yet when another arrow came and slammed his right shoulder against the wall! He gritted his teeth hard and growled at them! A growl of pain that, of course, had no human form! He was out of breath and stared angrily at the man who was coming towards him! he knew him! A fossil that was alive !! Contrary to the young general's outrage, Loqi Tummelt, Ardyn had a cold smile! Slowly he stepped forward and opened his hands to the sides as if he wanted to hug Loqi:

"I have to say that it's really hard to keep a behemoth king like that!"

Loqi's reaction was nothing but a mocking grin! He tried to hide his weakness behind his gaze and anger! He tilted his head slightly and addressed Ardyn in a very mocking tone:

" It's hard for you to keep a mouse, let alone me, who is my ultimate power and I will crush you!"

For a few moments, the silence of the room was disturbed only by water droplets, and then, Ardyn's slow and not so loud laughter! He dropped his hand and turned his head back and stared at the roof of the room!

"Oh, what a sad motive you have for me, little monster !!"

"Close your mouth and just open me again !!"

Ardyn's smile remained fixed on his face. As he looked at an unknown spot, he moved his tension from left to right and pressed his lips together:

"Hum! You're right, but ... I'm busy with my sweet girl!"

An evil smile settled on his lips and he stared at Loqi. Loqi's gaze became full of worry and anxiety, Aurora was in danger !! Especially now that he is captivating himself! Ardyn Half was annoyed by Aurora, and this style of torture forced Aurora to do anything! he tried to vent his anger:

"I swear to the gods, Ardyn .. bring disaster on her head.

Contrary to Loqi's obvious anger, Ardyn enjoys the annoyance of two sisters and a brother who are very close. Slowly he put his hand on the broken part of Loqi's hand and pressed it softly but firmly. Loqi's aching breath trapped behind his teeth and suffocated him, the pain of that pain when all his systems were disrupted. It was so hard, he couldn't keep himself awake, and if he fell he would die! He tried to save himself from fainting, but he couldn't. His weight was borne by his shoulder, which was nailed to the wall with metal and black arrow .. If something bad happened to his sister .. he would hold himself responsible .. forever!

On the other side of the story, Aurora was sitting on the floor, overwhelmed with mental unrest, her heart pounding like garlic and vinegar, squeezing the edges of her clothes, knowing Loqi was not in a good mood, she was inspired! She was afraid of losing her brother, she tried for years and was awaken many nights, to get her beloved Loqi out of that difficult and destructive tests alive! It's been exactly two days now that she didn't know about Loqi! She sold her motorcycle to make arrangements, but he refused to hear Loqi's voice once! She took a deep breath and got up from her place. She had to talk to that woman and ask her for help, the one whose name was Laura, and Aurora thought she was a simple glaive! She didn't even know her goal was that woman! Before she could get out of the tent, a glaive gently stepped ahead And stood before her. She turned her head toward that glaive. With the pressure that he put on her chest with his hand, she took a few steps back. That glaive's smile was nothing but has a negative feeling for Aurora. Her hands were ready to defend her, but before she could even tell if her thoughts were true or not, that glaive spoke, In a voice that belonged to someone else:

"I'm glad that Uncle Ardyn's dear is healthy !!"

Surprise and disbelief fell into the wave of turmoil. She went back so far as to hit the wall of the tent. She raised her head and stared at Ardyn, who had now returned to his body! She didn't need to pretend to be angry, her eyes subconsciously filled with hatred to the point that his tone was saved from the bitter poison of hatred:

" I thought I was free to see that ugly mess forever!"

Ardyn's hands gently touched her shoulders and he stopped behind her. He laughed softly and lowered his head to whisper in Aurora's ear, a whisper that smelled of resentment:

"Don't look for your brother, darling!"

The fact that Ardyn was talking about Loqi had only one meaning for Aurora, she couldn't resist and the tension was shaking! Her frown slowly subsided and she was scared ... it was the fear that was taking its toll, the fear of losing Loqi! She was so scared that not only her tension but also her voice trembled!

" Is he ... in your hands?

Ardyn had achieved his goal. The heavy shock he had given Aurora was enough for him! He laughed softly and walked away. He doesn't care about loqi or Aurora, it was just the little beads that Ardyn was entertaining himself with that! The main nut of Ardyn's story was Noctis! Almost no one from the Noctis family was left, except for one person.whom Ardyn needed for destroyed Noctis, a princess who was eating coffee with her love a few tents away! The person to whom Aurora was indebted! As he walked slowly, he opened his hands and leaned slightly toward the sky:

" Wounded and tired in my black fork! I promised Verstael to take him to him. He will be very happy!"

He stood and turned on his heel to Aurora and smirked mischievously:

" He is impatiently waiting for the new tests, my dear !!"

This tone was familiar to Aurora, and she could extract the purpose of Ardyn from her. Ardyn wanted something in exchange for Loqi, and told them so secretly how valuable that goal was, it didn't matter to Aurora even if her hateful uncle wanted her life! That goal was speculation .. She was the girl who wanted Verstael!

"What should I do to avoid giving Loqi to that humane hyena !!"

Ardyn's laughter calmed Aurora, she had guessed that Ardyn wanted something of her, Ardyn's crooked steps were taken to the tent. He tied his hands gently behind his back and stood in front of the tent in soft, black smoke and ashes around the tension.

" Witness !! I ... want the princess !! A girl with long black and gray hair ... and eyes that surround the heavenly skies and gardens !!"

Aurora's gaze was fixed on Ardun's vacancy, her breath was trapped in her chest because she knew only one person with this address .. The eyes that surrounded the sky and the gardens of heaven .. There was no one but the woman who saved her life It was ...Laura !! She turned her head slowly towards the big tent under which Laura had taken refuge. She stared at her and her smile crept into her mind! If she was the princess of Lucis ... then she should have been the same example, who was stolen from Verstael 35 years ago ... and if she got their hands on it ... She would be destroyed! She thought that this was the only purpose of Ardyn. Unaware that Ardyn had other sinister plans and did not care about the will of Verstael!

When she reached the tent, she stood up and turned to Cor. She raised his finger as if she was getting permission from her teacher, and addressed Cor in a decisive tone:

"Let me talk, okay?"

A serious face was sewn to Laura without feelings. He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes, not long after he looked at Laura again and answered with his hands locked on his chest.

"That good bait to Captured loqi! And she is now between us! We should not give her time that she can to spy!"

Unlike Laura, who trusted the girl, Cor did not feel good! He was worried about Laura, he was more worried about Laura than he was about Noctis! Laura is jewelry for nifs just when the crystal was in the hands of Nifs !! It was unlikely that even 0.1 percent of the girl would be spies! Maybe Loqi's sister deliberately thought she could come here! It was not unlikely. No matter how much he wanted to instill this feeling in Laura, it was useless! Laura was a wayward girl. If she knew that Cor was worried about her, she would risk herself more. Aurora's gaze was fixed on the princess and the man, who was much taller than her. She felt dumb and confused! She hugged her arms and leaned toward the ground to sort out her thoughts! Laura's gaze was fixed on Aurora. She wanted to ask her in the same way.Just as the opened her mouth to speak, Aurora stood and stared at her:

" I really need to save my brother! If he reaches to Nifelheim, nothing will be left of him!"

Frown come in between Cor's eyebrows! Is Loqi dying? to hell!! It didn't matter to him at all, unlike Laura, she understood Aurora's feelings. She also had a younger brother, Noctis!

"Don't worry, I'll help you, but I have a condition for you!"

" Unconditional condition! How can we believe that loqi is in danger! Why do you ask his enemy for help?"

Cor said, and Laura's reaction to this short, concise speech was just one thing, she rolled her eyes. She turned her head slowly and stared at Cor:

"my dear??"

My dear phrase, do not seal silence with Cor's lips. Aurora's gaze turned to Cor:

"I know who you are! I saw your photo before, Mr. Leonis! Loqi is in the worst condition right now and I have no one but him."

Cor's tone became even colder than before:

"I don't trust you either. If you like your brother, is better for you to go from here!"

Aurora's gaze turned oppressed towards Laura! She couldn't enter through a friendship with Leonis! So she had to wash laura's brain!

" Can I just talk to you?"

Laura's gaze slowly turned to Cor, and then her smile was realized cor that he was left her alone! Cor did not want this, but Laura was his princess! He had to follow her orders, he went out slowly but stayed behind the tent! Now that Aurora's loneliness had eased her mind, she took the opportunity to catch Laura! She could have used the same magic to take half of Laura hostage. Or she could hit her with a chair next to the bed. He looked down at the chair. If Laura defended herself in any way, Leonis would come and kill her! So she couldn't finish it with these methods! He stared at Laura! Seeing the blackness of her hair, her mind went to the black bag that was in her bag !! She had completely forgotten why Verstael had given her the drug, and Aurora wanted to have another use for it! Laura's gaze was fixed on Aurora's eyes, she didn't know why she didn't speak! She lowered her head slightly to see her eyes better:

"Aurora? Do you want to tell me something?"

Laura's voice brought Aurora's attention back to where she is now! He waved his hand slowly and then tried to speak as if she hated it!

"Do you have a brother who is in danger?"

She painted a sad smile on Laura's lips, slowly approached Aurora and put his hands on her shoulders:

"You were injured baby, rest, we will go after your brother soon!"

Laura's kind tone weakened Aurora's will. If Laura was a princess of lucis, and if the same pattern had really been stolen ... it would be easy for her to save loqi! But what if Laura wanted to kill Loqi anyway? Loqi was the one who attacked Insomnia, although Laura was kind, but what if her inner intentions were evil? Aurora had been hiding from people for many years. She had no relation with anyone except monsters in human clothes! She couldn't trust Laura! In addition, Laura, who was not in trouble, was finally clearing her mind !! But Loqi was killed !! These thoughts made Aurora regain her will! It's true that Laura was very angry with everyone in the army, but she never destroyed a rejected creature! That's when she is supported by her sister!

"Let me a moment!"

Laura's smile became a little brighter and she slowly moved away from Aurora! As she walked away, Aurora rushed to her bag and looked inside. The little black bag had something inside that Aurora wanted to use to control Loqi, although it was made for Laura. The girl who saved her life and took refuge in her! He raised his head and turned to Laura. She was standing behind Aurora, staring at her phone. Maybe she was sending a message! It was the best opportunity! She picked up the ready syringe and slowly walked towards her! Laura's gaze was fixed on her brother's face, and she was smiling. He had sent a photo of his new armiger to show Laura. She just laughed at these naughty is chiefs. Noctis was happy to laugh with his friends, it was the best thing for him. Laura opened the selfie camera of her phone to take a picture of her armiger and show those 25 weapons to Noctis, but before she opened her armiger, she saw something else inside the camera, with a metal Syringe in aurora's hand! She quickly turned to defend herself, but even before he had fully turned, the syringe needle sank into her throat and its contents emptied into her body. Her phone dropped and she looked at Aurora in shock! She didn't know what was injected into her, but whatever it was, it made her body dry and she had no will to move! She let out a sigh of relief and frowned:

"what did you do?"

She really squeezed Aurora's throat. Her trembling hand calmed down in front of her nose to keep Laura silent, her voice trembling and her eyes filled with tears:

"Shush! You are at my service now! Don't talk and behave normally. Let's go out together right now"

She paused to control herself and pressed her eyelids for a moment until tears welled up. and again she looked at Laura angrily:

"You don't say anything to anyone, tell everyone to go and talk to each other, it's a private matter that has nothing to do with anyone! Now close your mouth and get out.

Laura was in front of that girl, without any will from herself !! She couldn't even hold her frown! Her presence trembled with anger, but she could not express it! He couldn't disagree with that girl! She couldn't even punch her hand! It's like that aurora is a master girl! And there is no other way but to execute the command:

" what did you do? Why can't I object damn!"

When she packed her bag and threw it on her shoulder, she answered Laura:

"It's a controlled drug! Don't name the method yet! You are under my control and you have to listen to me! Your resistance destroys you. Now let's go to your car !! You are the princess then you go first! And Shut up!"

Cor was right، that girl ... was not something she showed, she pressed her lips gently and went out involuntarily, she couldn't even answer! She went straight without looking around to

Her car! When she arrived, she stood and turned to Aurora. Laura wanted to punch her in the face, but only her hands were shaking. Aurora's gaze went to her hands and she stood in front of Laura, nodding her head to both sides, and looking at Laura with a worried look, there was nothing but anger and hatred in Laura's eyes and that made her conscience strong! She pointed to the car:

" Get on, driver!"

And again, it was Laura who was doing something without any will, sitting quietly behind the roll, talking quietly and without a word, if she couldn't pull her eyebrows together !!

For a moment, Cor's negligence ruined everything without realizing it. He only saw Laura walking with that girl, her usual frown getting a little thicker! Why did Laura go unnoticed? He also had no clear identity with a nickname! The Nifs were filthy creatures, and Laura's trust in one of them made Cor jealous! He did not move forward and stood there, staring at Laura's departure. Unlike Laura, who was always Cor in front of her car, there was no honking! And she didn't even smile at Cor! Laura's face was very cold and her eyes ... it felt weird! She understood, but she did not take any action. Cor shrugged and went back to his tent to rest. It was around the morning and the marshal was very tired! When Laura came back, he could talk to her!

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Obey Me! Headcanon Game

Soo...I found this through a discord channel, so let’s get to it shall we? (Prepare to read a long ass questionnaire)

OG link(Credit to cerise_noire8 on Twitter)

(Made on Picrew)

1 • What is your MC’s name? What is their name origin? What does it mean (if it ever has a meaning).

Ayano Miasako. Not any explanation for that yet. Her mentor, Cleo calls her “Aya” Nickname in the mafia was“Silver”

2. When is their birthday? How old are they? What about their zodiac sign? (bonus point if you give their rising or even their birth/natal chart)

February 23 23-25. Capricorn

3. What is your MC’s gender? And what are their sexual/romantic preferences?

Female. Bisexual

4. What is your MC’s race? (human, demon, angel, other). If human, what are their nationality and origins?

Ayano’s human with a relation as Lilith’s descendant. Ayano’s half Japanese/Korean. She was born in Kyoto and was raised in the mafia.

5. Before coming to Devildom, what was their occupation? (job, studies...)

She was a mafioso until age 20, when she left. As a compensation for leaving, she has to wire the boss a certain amount of money per year. Ayano has a penthouse in Tokyo with her cat, Luci. She now works as a business tycoon, and wins most of her money from gambling and business investments. Ayano has a degree in anthropology and psychology

Ayano in the Mafia

6 • Height? Weight? Describe their body type.

Ayano’s 5’6 (167cm). She’s around 140 lbs or 64kg. Ayano has a medium-large bust, an hourglass figure, and decent sized ass

7. Who is/are your MC’s love interest(s) (if they ever have one). Summarise their dynamic.

Mammon, her protective Tsundere. Or Satan, the sly and intelligent bookworm trying to find his true self. She’s the ultimate tease to Mammon, knowing he likes her but is waiting for him to make a move. Mammon ends up flustered. She and Satan try to out-flirt each other with cheesy pickup lines and are often seen sitting next to each other in a loveseat, with tea and a good book. Satan calls her kitten, Ayano calls him her knight in shining armor (jokingly.) Mammon calls her “my lucky charm” Ayano calls him “blackjack,” but prefers calling all the boys by their names.

8 • Does your MC have any specific appearance features? (Scars, marks, anything else)

Ayano has various scars from her time in the mafia. She has 2 prominent stab wounds on her upper back from a betrayal. A yakuza tatoo on her hip. Plus a medium slash scar on her stomach. She got two black feathered wing tattoos on them to represent her freedom from the mafia. Ayano has heterochromatic eyes, left green, right purple. Usually wears a green contact over the purple to hide it. She also has distaichis (double lash layers). Jet black, waist length hair, pale-snow white skin. She usually sports this outfit

Wears a new type of nail art every 1-2 weeks depending on her mood. Lovesss jewelry

9 • Does your MC have any disabilities? (physical, mental health, etc). How do they deal with it?

Depression and anxiety. Solution: do a Lucifer and does anything and everything to keep her mind occupied. She also makes friends with cheerful people

10 • How do you imagine your MC’s voice? Describe it.

Medium pitch, smooth, lulling voice. Has a slight new york accent even though she’s never been there (taught by Cleo) Mostly formal in public and swears every so often. (she refrains from doing so around Luke). Her singing voice is very powerful, has a wide range of pitches, and can enchant many.

11 • Does your MC have any tattoos or piercings? Just tell us more about it!

2 black wings on her stab wounds on her back. A yakuza tattoo on her hip. A normal piercing on both ears with a few helix piercings as well

12 • Describe their clothing style (if they have a favorite style). Do they have specific accessories?

Bonus question: how do they wear RAD uniform?

Ayano’s fashion style is fashionista, dark fashionista, occasionally gothic/elegant lolita. Loves leather and silver. She often wears a silver necklace gifted (stolen?) from her mentor, with her mother’s silver ring hanging from it. Fingerless, black leather gloves. Usually wears a ring on her right hand, middle finger. Ayano wears the RAD uniform properly, with a red tie, black jeggings, and thigh-high black boots.

The redesigned RAD uniform

13 • Is your MC able to use magic? If so, are they skilled? How do they learn? Were they able to use it before coming to Devildom?

Yes, when she came to the Devildom, Solomon decided to teach her to hone her skills. In the human world, when really pissed, light bulbs would burst in her presence. Ayano learns quickly, so yes, she became skilled in a small time frame. She’s fond of enchanted jewelry (because they are pretty and have practicality)

14 • Describe your MC’s parents (names, jobs, personalities). Do they have any siblings? What is their relationship with their family?

Ayano’s mother, Kyoko (japanese) was dead while Ayano was very young. Her real father is unknown besides the fact that he was a ‘korean bastard’ from her stepfather. She despises her step father (the feeling’s mutual) and ran away from home at age 13. Ayano has an older (3-4) brother. At age 20, they reconnected and have a good, stable relationship.

15 • How many language do they speak? Which ones?

Ayano can read/speak: Japanese, English, Korean, Latin, Spanish, and French

16 • What is their relationship with each brothers?

Lucifer - fondness, cautious, interest - mixed feelings. Ayano isn’t fond of some of his methods, but recognizes his change throughout the program. She thinks he cares a lot for his brothers and respects that. Lucifer is glad that Ayano is well-mannered and courteous, but is suspicious on her relations to Solomon. Although she’ll never admit it, sometimes Ayano goes into his study with tea and a light dessert for him.

Mammon - Affectionate, loving, warmth, protectiveness. Ayano thinks Mammon as someone very dear to her, so she is protective of him. He’s a possible love interest, and Ayano likes teasing and flirting when he shows his Tsundere side. Mammon thinks that she’s his lucky charm, and loves bringing her to the casino with him, to show off, and to brag. He always becomes flustered when she teases him, but revels in it.

Levi - Ayano thinks Levi should have more confidence, and is gentle with him. Playing rpg or strategy games with him is a pastime of Ayano’s, Levi is slightly scared of her skills in that aspect. Since Ayano can also mimic voices well, he begs her to make Ruri-chan impersonations and such.

Asmo - Fun, flirty, and thrilling. At first, Ayano thought he was a narcissistic, vain bastard. Which is partially true tbh. When she started doing various makeup looks, that’s when Asmo started to bond with her. The two love messing with various skincare, haircare, makeup, and fashion items. On Fridays, they have a self-care night, with Mammon occasionally bursting in.

Satan- Was suspicious of him, noticing his mask and seeing through it right away. After noting that he is lost inside, she warms up to him and bonds with him over her cat, Luci, tea, and their shared love of crime novels. Satan was also suspicious of her at the beginning, but after she warmed up to them and slowly started revealing herself, they gradually started drifting closer. They can sometimes be seen reading together with tea and biscuits.

Bee l- Ayano absolutely adores Beel. She thinks of him as a giant teddy bear and knew he was genuine from the start. Ayano stress-bakes and experiments with recipes from time to time, and asks Beel to taste test them. Beel was glad she apologized and started warming up to her after the custard incident. He loves her baking, and is fond of her, as they take a jog/work out together sometimes.

Belphie - Complicated. She doesn’t care for Belphie. Yes, she wanted to free him, only because she hates feeling trapped as well and disliked Lucifer’s choice of punishment. The fact he changed so quickly after finding out about Lilith made her dislike him even more. However for the boys’ sake, she is cordial to him. Belphie just *wants her to like him dammit*

17 • What is their relationship with each side characters?

Diavolo- Ayano likes Diavolo, not only is he a powerful ruler, he is a right and just one as well. Sometimes, if he asks, she’ll sing human world songs to him during tea with Barbatos. Ayano thinks of him as a kind man with *so many goddam secrets hidden inside.* Diavolo likes that Ayano entertains him on the human world, and is well-mannered and playful. He’s very interested on trying various exotic human world recipes as well.

Luke- She thinks of Luke as a chihuahua, or a little kid. Harmless and adorable. Ayano likes teasing Luke and baking sweets with him. He thinks of her as an older sister, and loves having her attention.

Solomon- During her time in the mafia, around age 20, she went and stopped by an under-hyped bar. She was really pissed that day, as one of her subordinates almost had everyone killed. So, she decided to buy some whiskey and find a hookup to relieve stress. After flirting and chatting with Solomon for an hour or so, they went back to her place.....In the morning, she woke up a bit early, slightly nauseous, but mostly ok. Solomon was still asleep at the time. After preparing some korean hangover soup, she went back to her room, only to find a signed note and Solomon's number. Ayano and Solomon are pretty much friends with benefits. They’re playful and mischievous, and sometimes stop by each other’s rooms at night for-...Anyways, Ayano has taken for Solomon and would do it again. Solomon thinks Ayano as an admirable person and interesting, so he sticks by her. You can see them at a casino, getting drinks, and watching Ayano’s insane luck wins her her hundreds of thousand at the end of the night.

Simeon- Ayano doesn’t trust Simeon, as he doesn’t really seem like an angel and is shady. After the play and seeing him being ruthless, she distances herself even more from him. Simeon wishes she would be closer with him, but is glad that Luke bonds with her.

Barbatos- You cannot convince her otherwise that Barbatos is not Sebastian Michaelis’ twin Oftentimes, she will help him around the kitchen or garden,, enjoying his company. Barbatos is glad that Ayano can help out, but keeps an eye on her due to her past. Very relieved she has good manners in public though. They both teach Luke to bake sweets, and are protective over him.

18 • What is your MC’s main hobbies and passions?

Hobbies: Reading, throwing knives, composing/listening/singing music, baking, food tasting, playing with cats, drinking wine, sketching/painting, gambling, and gardening. She is obsessed with Cerberus, and loves taking him for walks.

19 • Why do they ended up in Devildom in the first place? What happened to them?

Ayano made a deal with a business man (Barbatos) to go to Siberia for a year in order to make a demonology/mythology film, she was supposed to travel to Siberia when she fell asleep on the plane, to wake up in RAD. This isn’t too weird from what she’s experienced before, so she thought it would be an interesting and worthwhile experience. After all, she can’t really fight back against demons, so acceptance is the only option.

20 • What is your MC’s MBTI type?

Unknown. Ayano is more of a quiet extrovert. A great people person, but seems a tad cool and aloof at first. She’s very polite and all, but never let’s people in due to trust issues. Very perceptive and emotionally intelligent. Ayano was able to pick up on the boys’ true colors within a short time span. Is very intelligent and can offer worthwhile theories and conversations. To the people she loves, she is most like a lazy cat, affectionate, playful, and teasing.

21 • Do they have pact with each bro? Do they often use their pacts? In which situations?

Has pacts with all the brothers except for Belphegor. She cares for the brothers, and refuses to use the pacts in any way, shape, or form.

22 • What is their favorite place in Devildom?

Madam Screams, the royal library, the roof of the HoL, or the beach Diavolo made.

23 • Which sin fit them the most?

Wrath, she’s very much like Satan

24 • Describe their personality.

Constantly tries to analyze a person's every move. Keeps a polite mask on. She tries her best to stay calm in most situations and to find a way out. However, she is incredibly sad*stic to people who have wronged her, preferring to use psychological torture. Often uses dark humor and keeps a knowing smile on her face. Tries to find a logical solution to every problem and is melodramatic around the people she cares about. She will tease you to oblivion and is a very playful character when you get to know her. Much like a cat, she is affectionate and likes to play around, sometimes flirtatious. She’s a total sweetheart when you get to truly know her though. Ayano however, is also very reasonable and knows when she's f*cked up. For example, when Beel freaked out over the custard. She ordered 20 cups of custard from Madam Scream's that night for the next day. Ayano then presented it to him the next afternoon, offering her sincerest apologies. When she trusts someone, they have her absolute loyalty. She will guard their lives with hers and would take a bullet for them If they break her trust tho, they're pretty much dead to her and even though she is polite to them, they will never be close with her again. When she falls for someone, she falls hard. Loyalty is of upmost importance to Ayano.

25 • What is their moral alignment?

Chaotic Neutral. Ayano doesn’t really follow the law, but has a clear set of morals and a bottom line.

26 • Does your MC possess an object/something especially dear to their heart?

A silver necklace from her mentor, with a silver ring that belonged to her mother hanging from it.

27 • Which character(s) do they consider as their best friend(s)?

Solomon, Satan, and Mammon.

28 • Choose a song that fits your MC.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4eaMfUtynM&list=RDMM&index=29

Dirty by Grandson

29 • What are your MC’s religious beliefs?

Agnostic, she thought something was out there. Hell though, was a surprise.

30 • Describe what is inside your MC’s school bag.

Books, sketchpad, pencils, pens, textbooks, compact mirror, and a switchblade - just in case

31 • Describe their appearance (pic refs are ofc allowed).

Snow-pale skin. She has jet black, waist length slightly wavy hair in a side part, heterachromatic eyes - left green right purple. Wears a green contact over the purple in public. 5’6 or 168 cm tall. medium bust and hourglass figure with multiple miscellaneous scars on her legs and arms (7-8) from bullet/stab wounds. 2 prominent stab wounds on her lower back. 5'8.

22 • What is your MC’s greatest fear?

Losing another person she cares about, surprisingly enough, she gets attached faster than one would think.

33 • Is your MC Lilith’s descendant? If yes, how did they react when they learn about it?

Yes, tbh Ayano wasn’t surprised. If Lilith lived that long ago, than ⅓ of the population are her descendants. What makes her so special?

34 • Do they have a pet/animal?

Yes, a calico cat with blue eyes named Luci, 4 years old.

35 • What are their grades like? (In Devildom)

Top 5 students in class. Usually second or third to Satan and Lucifer. Ayano absorbs knowledge pretty easily, and can also read a book fast. Is also a very helpful tutor. Describes and explains material in a brief manner.

36 • Do you think they have any other friends in Devildom aside the characters game? Or do they just stay with them?

Her mentor Cleo turned out to be a witch! So sleepovers, spa days, and movie binges with each other are a must! Also, Mephistopheles is a drinking partner from time to time. Don’t forget Solomon, who Ayano goes to for....stress relief.

37 • What is their favourite food?

Takoyaki, basically fried dough with octopus tentacles. Or Korean BBQ. Is obsessed with sweet and sour combos

38 • Do they have any specific talent? (artistic, random fact, etc)

She’s an artistic person, knowing what angles to take pics and lovesss sketching the boys. Baking is a stress thing, reading with tea is a pastime of hers. Likes trying out different nail art every week or so. Gardening or tending to plants is a must.

39 • Who is the person they rely on when not feeling well?

Cleo, she’s been Ayano’s mentor since age 13. The only one who knows her full, true self. A girl’s day out will ensue, or a girl’s day in, depending on what Ayano wants.

40 • How did they decorate their bedroom in the House of Lamentations? I mean, the game’s MC bedroom is cool but we all know it need customisation. If your MC does not live with the bros, just describe their bedroom.

She completely redecorated the room with Cleo’s help. Absolutely hated the OG design.

Ayano’s Human world flat : https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/301-E-61st-St-19A-New-York-NY-10065/300195837_zpid/

41 • Are they a heavy or light sleeper? How many hours of sleep do they get? Do they have insomnia or do they fall asleep easily? Just describe your MC's sleep habits.

Ayano’s a light sleeper, because in the mafia, she had to be up at any given moment. Usually 6 hours of sleep. She has insomnia, and sleeps at like 12 am or 1 pm. Usually wakes up at 6am, every day. Can sleep at any given moment though. She’s a female Lucifer in that sense

42 • What is your MC's Devilgram username?

@Silver_Aya

43 • Does your MC have a part-time job during the exchange? If yes, where in Devildom?

Yes. Well not really, does investing in stocks and gambling count? By the end of week 2 in the Devildom, she has 10 million grimm in her account.

44 • How do they deal with the exchange program at first? Do they adapt easily in Devildom? Was it hard for them to be far away from the human world? Were they excited of in panic?

Ayano just went with the flow. It’s a whole new realm, how could she not be excited? Asks Cleo to show her around. It takes a week or two to fully adapt to the Devildom. She missed her cat, but luckily Cleo told her she was taking care of Luci at her human world flat. Kinda hated the fact that the HoL was full of 7 guys, but is in close contact with Cleo. The first night, she asked to go to a casino with Mammon and went from 250,000 grimm, to 1,000,000 grimm on her card.

45 • Do your MC’s relatives/friends know they are in Devildom? How do they deal with their absence? Tbh I’m just wondering what is happening during the exchange program since in the game, MC didn’t really choose to be there.

Well, everyone knew Ayano would be gone for a year, so they carried on fine. Her brother missed her expertise, but knew she’d be fine. Cleo brings her bills and contracts to finish up in the human world, and has hired a cleaner to come in once a month.

46 • How do they feel when they have to leave Devildom for the first time after their first one year exchange? Did they just return to the occupation they had before the exchange program? Did this experience change them? (Sorry these questions are more for human MC)

Ayano misses everyone terribly, and calls and texts everyone once or twice every week to update. She keeps in contact with Solomon to continue her magic lessons. Ayano just goes back to Japan like everything’s normal. Diavolo had a movie made during her time in the Devildom on some random mythology, which turned out to be a box office sensation. Everything is pretty much the same.

47 • Describe your MC’s D.D.D: phone case, wallpaper…

A neutral toned, light phone case with lotus flowers and lily pads. Her lock screen is a white/cream rose. Ayano’s wallpaper is her posing with Luci, her calico cat with blue eyes. Ayano’s kissing Luci’s nose in the picture. Her lock screen is a

48 • How do they react to praise? How do they react to criticism?

Says “thank you” or some variation of that from a stranger. If it’s an acquaintance, same. If it’s a friend, a thank you and a genuine smile. A close friend, a hug and thanks with a compliment thrown back. A lover, kisses and cuddles. Cleo, ‘awww, so sweet from someone so deadly’.

To strangers: shoots the criticism back in twice the snippiness if they’re being rude. If it’s constructive criticism, she’ll respect that. Acquaintances, again, same as above. Friends:depends if it’s in a teasing manner. If so, she’ll tease back, if it’s rude and uncalled for, she’ll tell them. Close friends: will be fine with teasing and will tease back. Will accept actual criticism if it’s constructive, will ask why they said so if it’s rude. Lover: WIll TEASE BACK WITH TICKLES. If it’s an actual criticism, she’ll take that into account and embrace it. Cleo: will jab back with an embarrassing story. If it’s real, will change if it’s reasonable

49 • What is their future goal? (it could be their actual goal [dont forget the tw spoiler], their dream job, any other wish they want for the future)

To have a happy family, in a nice home. Also to make others happy and inspire them. She already has her dream job, so a S/O would be perfect for Ayano to balance her out.

50 • Describe their perfume/scent.

Her perfume smells like spices, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, and vanilla in particular. Her shampoo/conditioner, and body wash give her hints of oat milk and ginger, coffee and coconut. Cleo and Satan would say she smells like a cafe.

51 • Did they ever commit a crime or have been arrested?

Yes, she’s been in the mafia, meaning she’s killed, stolen, and broken into houses.

52 • (A bit TW??) Do they smoke? Do they drink?

An occasional Mexican cigar. She likes wine and whiskey in particular. Doesn’t get drunk too often. At most she gets tipsy.

53 • Do they play a musical instrument?

Piano, violin, guitar, and bass

54 • How do they see themselves? How do they want to be seen by others?

Ayano sees herself as a horrible person. Being in the mafia, she’s done and seen horrifying things. She wishes to one day be able to see redemption in herself, that’s why she donates to charity and volunteers often. She wants to be seen as approachable and kind to others, albeit one not to mess with. Ayano dreams to be an inspiration for young children, showing that you can come up from nothing.

55 • What was your MC like as a child? Did they have a happy childhood?

Ayano grew up in an abusive household. Her father blamed her for her mother’s death, when in reality, he shot her while drunk and blamed Ayano as a coping method. Her brother was kept away from her, so he barely knew her. Ayano didn’t even know he remembered her at all. When she ran away at 13, she lived on the streets for some time, stealing food and clothing. Sometimes a kind person would give her some money or food, but most walked by or looked at her in disgust. One day, she managed to steal a silver necklace from her future mentor, Cleo. Cleo was a mafia boss’ daughter, and was impressed that Ayano could steal from her at all. After begging and persuasion, her father let Ayano join the mafia as her apprentice.

56 • Would they prefer to live forever in Devildom or come back/live in the human world?

Ayano would most likely try and find a way to become immortal, in order to live in the Devildom. The brothers and undateables are her family pretty much. She’d ask Cleo if Luci can be brought down and made immortal as well.

57 • Did they ever get the chance to visit the Celestial realm? If so, what do they think about it? Did they meet Michael? (Ofc it’s your personal hc since Michael never appeared in the game)

Yes, after much begging and pleading from Luke, Simeon reluctantly agreed to let her into the Celestial Realm. She loves the food ofc, especially the fruit. She never met Michael because he was “on a business trip.”

58 • Do the pact marks appear on their skin? If yes, where are they? What do they look like?

Yes, they appear on her skin, only when she uses her pact though, as Solomon told her. They have not been seen as of now….

59 • What is your MC’s favorite music genre? Do they have any favorite band/singer? Favorite song?

Ayano likes to listen to classical, indie rock, rap, and some pop. She’s fond of Frank Sinatra, James Arthur, and NF. There are like 20 songs Ayano would consider her‘favorite’

60 • Choose 4 pics that fit your MC’s aesthetic. (I chose 6 bc why not?)

2 notes · View notes

Until I can trust you.

Pairing: Ben Hardy x reader

Summary: A continuation of Until we know in which Ben and the reader finally talk

Word Count: 2,354

Warnings: None that I can think of. Maybe swearing and mentions of sex and alcohol.

A/N: Okay so this might be a little lame, but I think it is kind of important to the upcoming chapters. Anyway, the next chapter is already in writing (it’s literally 1k words so far)

Tagging: @mamaskillerqueen @yourealegendroger @lakef @mcrmarvelloki@oh-well1Message me if you want to be tagged in any future chapters!

After that little speech Ben dropped, you went back to your room to get dressed into something more comfortable. You had packed your favourite jeans and an oversized shirt you bought at a concert once. You quickly brushed your teeth, washed the remainder of your make up off your face and tried to fix your hair, then went out to meet Ben for breakfast. He was visibly nervous, straining himself to act only friendly around you. Silently, you two made your way to the dining room where Lucy, Rami, Joe, Gwil and his wife along with some of their family members were seated in a special room, reserved for the wedding guests.

“Morning.”, you said as you said down on the free chair next to Lucy. Everyone’s eyes visibly widened as Ben sat down next to you. It wasn’t long until Lucy noticed a hickey on your lower neck, one that you hadn’t seen as you covered all the other hickeys with make up that morning. She smirked at you, pulling you out of your seat with the excuse of helping you settle on what to have. Lucy pushed you away from the table, leading you to the buffet.

“What happened last night?”, she asked teasingly as you eagerly grabbed a plate and filled it with whatever your stomach longed for.

“Nothing. Had a good talk with my toilet.”, you told her, avoiding eye contact as you kept filling your plate.

“Seems like you had a good talk with someone else, too. And I think I know who the lucky one was.”, Lucy replied, not believing a word you said. Instead, her gaze wandered to where Ben was vividly talking to Roger and Brian. Both had attended the wedding, but you hadn’t felt the need to talk to them. You had only met them a handful of times, but they were always rather busy, so you never exchanged more than friendly Smalltalk with them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, you mumbled after you followed her gaze for a second. You felt your cheeks heating up, but you didn’t give up on playing it down. Neither you nor Ben knew what was going on between you two, so trying to explain this mess to someone else would prove to be even harder. Sadly, though, you were not an actress like her or Ben, so all of this proved to be quite difficult.

“Y/N, please stop pretending. There are hickeys on Ben’s neck, there are hickeys on yours and you two walked down here together. Now that we’re talking about this, I don’t recall seeing you or Ben anymore after Rami and I danced for a bit.”, Lucy smirked at you and finally took a plate of her own, filling it with a few sweet items.

“Okay. We might have hooked up, but we don’t know what to do next. Because I can’t just pretend the last few months didn’t happen, but I can’t just ignore my feelings either. I’ll tell you what’s going on once Ben and I have talked about it, I promise, but please let’s just have breakfast and focus on Gwil. Please.”, you told her, and Lucy nodded understandingly before you two made your way back to the table. You smiled as you sat back down next to Ben and started devouring your meal. It wasn’t every day that you got to eat as much as you could without having to clean up or cook yourself, so you were sure to make the best out of it.

Your mood, however, wasn’t the same anymore after your little chat with Lucy. You knew she only meant well, but it really did put a damper on your mood to not know what was going on between you two and to know that you would have to have a serious talk after this. Adding to that was the fact that you felt as though everyone’s eyes were resting on you and only you. Everyone who sat at the table was engaged in conversation, but it still felt like you were the centre of attention.

And you did not like that.

Hurriedly, you finished your breakfast without speaking much. Only replying when you were asked something with as little words as possible and then again when you told everyone at the table that you were about to go back to your room to pack, wished them a good day and told them to get home safely. You thanked Gwil and his now wife for the invite once more and told them to enjoy their upcoming honeymoon before you made your way back.

‘Hey love, are you alright? Do you want to go to your home first and then come over to talk or are you driving to mine first?’, said a text Ben had sent only seconds after you stepped into your room.

‘I’m going to bring my stuff to my flat, make sure that it hasn’t burned down yet and then I’ll come over. I can be over at yours around 3.’, you texted back. Suddenly, the world felt heavy on your shoulders.

‘Sounds good to me. Drive safely, see you then.’

You sighed. You didn’t have much work to do, all you did was throw your heels and dress into your bag, along with your toiletries, before checking once more that you had everything, then proceeded to check out and drive off. It was around noon when you left.

The drive seemed endless. You dreaded getting home because it meant getting one step closer to talking with Ben about your situation, which was destined to be awkward. Throughout the whole drive, you felt like you were trapped in one of those very aesthetically pleasing but otherwise really stupid road trip scenes in high-school-movies in which the beautiful teenaged daughter has to move with her family and pretends to be super edgy with her music and thinking about how no one gets her. But unlike the girls in those movies, you were driving the car.

You sighed at your own stupid thoughts.

It wasn’t long until you arrived at your flat and you once more felt your heart drop as no one was there to greet you. No one was there to ask how your drive was. No one was there to ask if you had fun. No one was there to cuddle up to you. You were all alone.

During your relatively short stay at home, you did basically nothing. Well, nothing but think. For the most part, you were lost in your thoughts, drowning in emotions. Anxiously, you looked at the clock. It was exactly two minutes later than the last time you looked. With a defeated groan, you stood up and made your way outside. You were early, but your nerves had gotten the better of you and sitting in your lonely flat would only strain your nerves further.

When you arrived at Ben’s flat twenty minutes before you were almost disappointed to see that he was already there. There was this strange fight going on inside you. One part of you was desperate to get it all out while the other really didn’t and preferred to live in the bliss of unawareness.

“Hey.”, Ben said with a smile as he pushed the door open for you. The second you set foot in the flat you once called your home, you heard a very familiar barking. Seconds later, Frankie was excitedly jumping around your feet, continuously trying to jump up your legs and, thus, trying to get closer to you. With the biggest grin, you kneeled on the floor to embrace her. You missed the adorable creature.

“Hey Frankie. How are you? Did you miss me?”, you asked her in one of those extremely sweet voices that you just couldn’t control.

“She did. Was constantly whining at the door. Always looking for you, waiting for you.”, Ben replied for his dog, watching the scene lovingly. He had missed this. Everything just felt right. But Ben was as aware as you were that this was only the calm before the storm.

Your heart ached a little. Frankie and you had been rather close before you left. You always enjoyed her presence, the little furball was always so full of energy, yet she never refused a nice long round of cuddles on the couch.

Finally, you looked up at him.

Ben’s hair was wet. It looked like he had just come out of the shower. He had lazily thrown on a shirt and some sweatpants. His eyes still looked a little bloodshot and he was nervously gnawing on his lower lip.

“You want something to drink?”, Ben now asked, nodding towards the kitchen.

“How about we get some tea and talk?”, you asked in reply to which Ben nodded. Both of you walked towards the open kitchen, Frankie in tow, and you set down at the table while Ben turned on the kettle before taking out two cups. The silence between you two was deafening as Ben prepared your tea. Your fingernails were suddenly quite interesting.

Ben watched you intently. You were fidgety, trying to avoid any kind of eye-contact for as long as possible. Ben didn’t really feel much different about the situation, though. He was trying to busy himself with anything that met his eye. Whether it was refilling Frankie’s water bowl or giving her treats as he waited for the water to boil.

When Ben placed both cups, you knew the time had come to talk.

“So…”, Ben said quietly.

“So…”, you replied. A pregnant pause ensued.

“How about we start with talking about how we feel?”, Ben asked, looking up at you, trying to meet your eyes.

“Okay. Uhm… Where do I start?”, you felt awkward, took a breath and then got started.

“Ben, I still feel a lot for you. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t miss you at all and tried to tell you that I was just able to keep going after our relationship ended. I was a mess. A huge mess. I was hurt and- and I felt insecure and unlovable and like I wasn’t worth sh*t. Especially after you broke your promises again. I still feel that way. And if I’m being honest, what we did last night wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t drunk. I don’t regret it, I just…” You sighed.

“I need you to know that this can’t be fixed with a simple one-night stand.”, you couldn’t stop the word flow once it started, trying to get out everything at once. All those words and emotions had been bottled up inside you for far too long and needed to get out.

Ben moved his hand, wanting to place it on yours in a calming manner, but deciding against it.

“I’m so sorry. So f*cking sorry.” Ben hid his face in his hands. “I never wanted this. I was stupid, so stupid. I love you so much. Always will. You are one of the most important people in my life.”, he replied, and his voice was already shaky. Frankie barked almost like she was asking if he forgot about her.

“No one’s more important than you, Frankie.”, you told the dog and held your hand out for her to nuzzle her head into. She obliged happily. Ben chuckled lightly.

“You are so loveable, Y/N. That’s what scared me. I was scared that you would find someone better while I was gone for filming. Someone who doesn’t leave you behind for months for a new project. Someone you can come home to every night and- and have that picture-perfect life you deserve. And last night when we talked and kissed and had sex, everything felt so perfect. Like I was whole again. And I know that none of my actions can be forgotten because of one night, but I’m willing to be a better person. For you. If you will let me. Of course, I’d understand if you didn’t want to get back together. Been a proper dick to you.”, Ben finished, his eyes big with hopes. His whole body was leaning forward, leaning towards you. You had to lean back a bit in your chair.

“Ben, I appreciate the fact that you are willing to try, but I am not sure if I can still trust you. I’m torn between my heart and my brain. My heart tells me to come back to you because I miss you and Frankie dearly, nothing feels like home. Nothing except you two. But my brain tells me to think rationally. I’ve given you a second chance and you f*cked it up. I’m scared of being hurt again. I don’t think I could take it.”, you started sobbing now. It pained you to say that, but you couldn’t risk being that hurt again. Ben nodded as tears ran down his face.

Neither of you said anything for a bit. Sniffling and sobbing echoed through the otherwise quiet place. Not even Frankie dared to make a sound, instead looking up at you two with those huge beautiful eyes. She had placed herself in a corner of the room, watching you two.

“How about,” Ben started, sniffling lightly as he tried to get his breathing and tears back under control, “How about we try to be friends?”

“You want to forget about last night?”, you asked in a watery voice, wiping your face with your own hands. Ben shook his head eagerly.

“No, no! Not at all. I thought we could try to be friends until you can trust me again. Until you feel like I deserve you again.”, Ben reluctantly placed his hand on yours on the table. His eyes were searching for eye-contact and, as they found yours, looked at you with an intensity that made you shiver.

You took a deep breath.

“That sounds wonderful. I’d like that a lot. Let’s be nothing more than friends until I can trust you.”, you smiled a little.

And a greatly appreciated, very ordinary afternoon was what followed.

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