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foodandfolklore · 6 months

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Godmother Death

Since it's Almost the 31st of October, I've been poking around for old Fables and fairytales that fit the season. Sure there's Halloween and spooky season which allows many people to dress up and embrace the fun. And I love that! But some spiritual and Cultural paths believe this time of the year is when the veil of the living and the dead thins, allowing for those who have passed to come and pay us a visit. Personally, I kinda like the idea of that.

So I found a Slavic folk tale written by A.H Wratislaw in 1889. It is about death taking on a Godchild. There are many things I find interesting in this story. The first and most obvious thing being that Death is not something to fear. Death is a kind and fairly pretty Woman. It goes against a lot of how death has been built up in Christian stories. Which brings me to interesting point number 2, Death and Religion seem to be separate. Which I like. Yes death seems to be Religious, but they don't claim to be part of a higher power or chain of command. They haven't been re-written to be an angel. Just....Death. And finally the third thing I found interesting was the Fact Death was not only a Woman, but a Woman with knowledge about medicine and healing. During this time period in England (Where the author is from) and many other parts of the world, Women were fighting to be allowed to be Doctors. But there was massive push back on this as anyone who has skimmed women's rights history can imagine. So I wonder if the author had an opinion about this, and tried to use old folk tales to communicate a point. Perhaps he felt women were capable of being just as good of doctors as men?

This is a slightly more awkward read. So I wanted to give a few key notes on word meanings to help people like me who were thrown off. Gossip: It means Good friend or buddy Sexton: A church care taker Taper: Candle. Like the tall, skinny kinds.

There was a man, very poor in this world’s goods, whose wife presented him with a baby boy. No one was willing to stand sponsor, because he was so very poor. The father said to himself: ‘Dear Lord, I am so poor that no one is willing to be at my service in this matter; I’ll take the baby, I’ll go, and I’ll ask the first person I meet to act as sponsor, and if I don’t meet anybody, perhaps the sexton will help me.’

He went and met Death, but didn’t know what manner of person she was; she was a handsome woman, like any other woman. He asked her to be godmother. She didn’t make any excuse, and immediately saluted him as parent of her godchild, took the baby in her arms, and carried him to church. The little lad was properly christened. When they came out of church, the child’s father took the godmother to an inn, and wanted to give her a little treat as godmother. But she said to him, ‘Gossip, leave this alone, and come with me to my abode.’

She took him with her to her apartment, which was very handsomely furnished. Afterwards she conducted him into great vaults, and through these vaults they went right into the underworld in the dark. There tapers were burning of three sizes–small, large, and middle-sized; and those which were not yet alight were very large. The godmother said to the godchild’s father: ‘Look, Gossip, here I have the duration of everybody’s life.’ The child’s father gazed thereat, found there a tiny taper close to the very ground, and asked her: ‘But, Gossip, I pray you, whose is this little taper close to the ground?’ She said to him: ‘That is yours! When any taper whatsoever burns down, I must go for that man.’

He said to her: ‘Gossip, I pray you, give me somewhat additional.’ She said to him: ‘Gossip, I cannot do that!’ Afterwards she went and lighted a large new taper for the baby boy whom they had had christened. Meanwhile, while the godmother was not looking, the child’s father took for himself a large new taper, lit it, and placed it where his tiny taper was burning down.

The godmother looked round at him and said: ‘Gossip, you ought not to have done that to me; but if you have given yourself additional lifetime, you have done so and possess it. Let us go hence, and we’ll go to your wife.’

She took a present, and went with the child’s father and the child to the mother. She arrived, and placed the boy on his mother’s bed, and asked her how she was, and whether she had any pain anywhere. The mother confided her griefs to her, and the father sent for some beer, and wanted to entertain her in his cottage, as godmother, in order to gratify her and show his gratitude. They drank and feasted together. Afterwards the godmother said to her godchild’s father: ‘Gossip, you are so poor that no one but myself would be at your service in this matter; but never mind, you shall bear me in memory! I will go to the houses of various respectable people and make them ill, and you shall physic and cure them. I will tell you all the remedies. I possess them all, and everybody will be glad to recompense you well, only observe this: When I stand at anyone’s feet, you can be of assistance to every such person; but if I stand at anybody’s head, don’t attempt to aid him.’

It came to pass. The child’s father went from patient to patient, where the god-mother caused illness, and benefited every one. All at once he became a distinguished physician. A prince was dying–nay, he had breathed his last–nevertheless, they sent for the physician. He came, he began to anoint him with salves and give him his powders, and did him good. When he had restored him to health, they paid him well, without asking how much they were indebted. Again, a count was dying. They sent for the physician again. The physician came.

Death was standing behind the bed at his head. The physician cried: ‘It’s a bad case, but we’ll have a try.’ He summoned the servants, and ordered them to turn the bed round with the patient’s feet towards Death, and began to anoint him with salves and administer powders into his mouth, and did him good. The count paid him in return as much as he could carry away, without ever asking how much he was indebted; he was only too glad that he had restored him to health. When Death met the physician, she said to him: ‘Gossip, if this occurs to you again, don’t play me that trick any more. True, you have done him good, but only for a while; I must, none the less, take him off whither he is due.’ The child’s father went on in this way for some years; he was now very old. But at last he was wearied out, and asked Death herself to take him. Death was unable to take him, because he had given himself a long additional taper; she was obliged to wait till it burned out. One day he drove to a certain patient to restore him to health, and did so.

Afterwards Death revealed herself to him, and rode with him in his carriage. She began to tickle and play with him, and tap him with a green twig under the throat; he threw himself into her lap, and went off into the last sleep. Death laid him in the carriage, and took herself off. They found the physician lying dead in his carriage, and conveyed him home. The whole town and all the villages lamented: ‘That physician is much to be regretted. What a good doctor he was! He was of great assistance; there will never be his like again!’ His son remained after him, but had not the same skill.

The son went one day into church, and his godmother met him. She asked him: ‘My dear son, how are you?’ He said to her: ‘Not all alike; so long as I have what my dad saved up for me, it is well with me, but after that the Lord God knows how it will be with me.’ His godmother said: ‘Well, my son, fear nought. I am your christening mamma; I helped your father to what he had, and will give you, too, a livelihood. You shall go to a physician as a pupil, and you shall be more skilful than he, only behave nicely.’

After this she anointed him with salve over the ears, and conducted him to a physician. The physician didn’t know what manner of lady it was, and what sort of son she brought him for instruction. The lady enjoined her son to behave nicely, and requested the physician to instruct him well, and bring him into a good position. Then she took leave of him and departed. The physician and the lad went together to gather herbs, and each herb cried out to the pupil what remedial virtue it had, and the pupil gathered it. The physician also gathered herbs, but knew not, with regard to any herb, what remedial virtue it possessed. The pupil’s herbs were beneficial in every disease. The physician said to the pupil: ‘You are cleverer than I, for I diagnose no one that comes to me; but you know herbs counter to every disease. Do you know what? Let us join partnership. I will give my doctor’s diploma up to you, and will be your assistant, and am willing to be with you till death.’

The lad was successful in doctoring and curing till his taper burned out in limbo.

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cranberrybogmummy · 1 year

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Crumpy McDumpy the III origin story

How Crumpy Mcdumpy got his name.

Back in the mid nineteen sixties, in Lake Remorse, a small city on the shores of a namesake body of water, Lake Remorse in the United States. There was a minor sorcerer whose original name is lost. He had a day job (math teacher) and had his magic as well, kept pretty busy, didn’t have much time for his family, he became the first Crumpy Mcdumpy. How? Well, it starts with a death. His long-suffering, neglected wife, Mildred, was crossing a busy street and maybe she wasn’t looking both ways, maybe the drivers of the cars were reckless, or some say she just ran into traffic on purpose. It was tragic, but she died; they never caught the driver of the hit and run. This man and his three children, two boys and a little girl, mourned their wife and mother. Now this is where the story would end most of the time.

However, this minor sorcerer did not take the idea that his wife was dead as the end. He knew a spell to summon the most tricksy god of all, Loki. I don’t know the particulars but I know the Eddas lied and Loki was never tied down by entrails, tortured by venom, or maybe it was something that happened in the future.

Anyhow some of the components of the spell were mistletoe and lingonberry jam.

So Loki was summoned. In this world of many gods, and pantheons, Loki hadn’t been alone when they were summoned, they showed up with grape leaves twined in their red hair and a wineskin in their hand.

“Whhaaa?” Loki blinked.

“Are you drunk?” Asked the Sorcerer.

“I was hanging out with my friend Dionysus,” Loki said. “So… yes.”

“No matter! I summoned you, I need you to let me enter your daughter Hel’s domain and get someone back,” said the sorcerer querulously.

Loki was drunkenly waving to a small child who had showed up in the doorway.

“Oh, you’re still talking,” they said.

“Not now, sweetie, Daddy’s busy,” said the sorcerer closing the door. “Should I repeat myself?”

“No, I got it, underworld, get someone back, right,” Loki repeated. “But what’s it in for me?”

“For you?” The sorcerer asked. “Well you get me and every first born son of my line as your--- you aren’t paying attention are you?”

Loki had started eating the lingonberry jam with their fingers. “Yes, right… if you manage to persuade the person to come back, you win and If you don’t I will punish you and every first born son of your line… or something.”

Loki waved jam-coated fingers, said words in a secret god tongue, and a passage opened to the underworld.

“Thank you,” the sorcerer said, rolling his eyes.

So they walked down to the world of the dead, it was dark and there was only a small orange light provided by Loki, who was hiccuping and swilling wine, down into the underworld.

“How do you know they're even here?” Loki asked. “They could be in some heaven or I dunno… some other gods’ underworld.”

“No, Mildred’s family was faithful to your gods since… well I dunno they all came from Norway in the 1870s…” said the sorcerer.

Hel, half rotted, half goth, sat on her throne and in her domain was dim light like pre-dawn. The spirits of the dead lounged and slouched around, resting from their earthly toils in the half light.

“Father,” Hel croaked in an alto monotone. “You’re drunk… why are you here?”

“Hi kiddo!” Loki hallo’d. “I brought a mortal will-worker! He wants to take someone back to the land of living, ya know bring them back to life.”

Hel sighed. “I suppose you get something out of this?”

“Yep,” Loki gave a roguish wink.

Hel said: “Then mortal, cast among the recently dead for your loved one, and see if you can win them back.”

The sorcerer called out: “Mildred, my darling wife, please come back with me.”

From the gloom stepped his wife, in the same house dress she was wearing when she was stuck by the car. She smiled faintly.

“My love!” she called. “You came for me, you braved the underworld because you love me?”

“Of course,” he said. “Also the dishes are piling up, we have no clean clothes, we’ve been living on ham sandwiches, the floors are dirty, the bathtub has a ring around it, the youngest keeps blowing her nose on everything…”

He continued to list all the chores and domestic duties that needed doing since her untimely demise: Mildred’s smile vanished, her left eye twitched, her expression, unnoticed by her husband, was hardening into a scowl.

“… and that’s why you need to come back with me, sweetie, back to the land of the living to take care of us,” the sorcerer concluded.

“No,” said Mildred.

“What?!” the Sorcerer exclaimed.

“No, do it yourself, I’m dead.” Mildred said. She flipped him off with both fingers and walked backwards into the milling crowd of spirits.

“Welp, that tears it,” Loki grinned.

Now they were back in the sorcerer’s house.

“That was rude and ungrateful,” the sorcerer sniffed.

“… yep, now you and your first sons are cursed,” Loki said.

“... wait, we are?” The sorcerer said.

“Yes by me, Loki. I henceforth… proclaim that you and every first male child of your line shall bear the name… the name… mmmm—” Loki hiccuped and grinned “— CRUMPY MCDUMPY!”

“WAA?” The sorcerer now called Crumpy McDumpy exclaimed.

“Yes, henceforth you can’t change it; it is your true name and every being that sees you and your sons will call you this, and see you as Crumpy McDumpies.” Loki belched happily. “I’m in a good mood so you got off lightly, and don’t worry: every generation will get the chance to change it… by doing stuff for me— so tata for now!”

And Loki vanished, heading back to party with Dionysus.

So that is how the first Crumpy McDumpy gained his family name and curse.

Part 2:

#writing #my writing #short story #humor #loki norse mythology #fantasy #TW: death of parent #Crumpy Mcdumpy #OC #Hel Norse Mythology #Fantasy universe #Lake Remorse universe

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the-geek-librarian · 2 years

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Hello there,

It's me yet again with another Black clover Au but! This time it is fully thought out ( somewhat) and I know what the hell I'm doing

Moving on...

The main inspiration for this Au came from @gothiclolitafanarts they are an both an amazing artist and very funny at the same time so please go check them out!!

So the Au centers around the staria Family. Asta, Liebe, Licita, Astaroth aaannndd Megicula! The story goes as normal for the most part, with the exception of Noelle's backstory bc Megi is not with Vanica (yet) so Acier is alive and well. A lot of things are the same but with little (or big) changes more on that later.

Moving on the start of the story goes like this Astaroth the time devil somehow ( not even I'm sure how) leaves the Underworld and enters the human world. After a while of exploring he comes across ( in the outskirts of Hage) a cottage and a human! ( Licita) so after some heavy character development, he falls in love with Licita they get married and Licita gets pregnant. So far so good right? Well not for long. So after 1 month of pregnancy the bastard himself Lucius arrives at Astaroths doorstep for his heart / magic so in response Astaroth breaks both of his kneecaps. Successful putting him in a wheelchair so after that Astaroth said " holy hell me being here is only going to cause trouble for me wife and child" So he left the human world and went back to the underworld.

But there was a surprise waiting for him there, little Megicula was already manifested on his level and had yet to name herself! So my boi named her and made her his student. Flash forward 5 years later another opportunity to leave the underworld comes and this time Astaroth said fuck it and took megi with him.

You can understand where this is going? Heartfelt reunions happen my boi Dadstaroth got to meet Asta for the first time and after a long talk with Licita with slapping from my girl bc she though he left to go get milk they end up staying in the human world for good.

+ some art for the Au

Family Tree

The man himself Dadstaroth ( p.s @gothiclolitafanarts sorry I stole the tail from you version but I couldn't think of anything else)

Megicula, Astaroth and Liede look like you just told them a bad joke and I love it

#black clover #black clover au #Asta #Liebe #Astaroth #The Staria Family Au #Licita #Megicula #asta black clover #liebe black clover #Megicula black clover

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carnationworld-writings · 3 years

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Home (Hades!Bucky x Persephone!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Parings: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Persephone!Reader

Universe: MCU

Word Count: 721

Warnings: slight mention of sex

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your wellbeing is important to me!

Summary: The one where the wife came back to her husband.

Y/N known for mortals as Persephone finally ended her time with her mother and came to her real home, Underworld. She perfectly knew what other gods and mortals said about her and her husband, Hades, which she called Bucky, but she didn't care. She knows the real Hades and how caring and loving he was. She loves him, she really does. Even if her mother told everyone that he manipulated her beloved daughter - it was not true. He pretended to be cold and brutal, but she found him a charming man who needed love. He found that love in her. He tried to discourage her, make her afraid of him and leave, but it didn't work. He really tried everything. He knew that she deserved a better life than he could give her in the Underworld. It was the reason he agreed and even insisted that she divide her time between the Underground and life alongside her mother. It wasn't difficult at first. After all, there was the goddess of spring and nature - she needed to be in the mortal world. It became harder and harder every year. She didn't want to leave her husband, her home. She tried to fulfil all of her duties as soon as possible to come back. Bucky found himself miserable and exhausted without her.

But the day of her comeback finally came. She deeply inhaled after she stepped in their kingdom. It was a dark and cold place, but she felt safe here, especially at her husband's side. She smiled briefly to Charon after he had bowed to her. She quickly made her way to their palace, looking for her husband. She checked their private chambers, her garden where he loved waiting for her. She looked for him near the gates, hoping that he had gone to take care of Cerberus, but he wasn't there.

With pomegranate in her hand, she made her way to the throne room. It was her last idea where he could be. She felt strange. He always waited for her and found her a few seconds after she came to the Underworld. Door had opened before her, and she finally saw him - asleep on his throne. She smiled tenderly watching him for a few seconds. She quietly crossed the room, taking off her coat. She knelt in front of him and covered him with a coat, as a blanket. He moved, feeling the warmth that filled the entire room. She gently stroked his cheek, exposing his face from hairs which had grown since she left. She chuckled when he snuggled his face in her hand. Bucky slowly opened his eyes. He couldn't hide surprise when he saw her. He quickly stood up, taking her in his arms. She quietly laughed and wrapped her arms around him.

"Y/N… You're here."

"Yes, my love. I finally am where I belong."

Both of them smiled. Bucky put his hands on her hips, carefully watching her. He wanted to catch every change in her appearance. He saw her watery eyes when she stood on her tiptoes and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. His hand quickly found its way to her hair, keeping her close.

"I missed you so much, my darling…" he whispered in her mouth.

"I know… I missed you too, love. I'm here now." she smiled at him. "Bucky, did you have sleeping problems again? Because you know... You can't find the God of the Underworld sleeping on his throne very often…" He couldn't help but chuckled and kissed her on the forehead.

"As always, when you are gone... But now everything is perfect." she saw a small smile on his face, her thumb stroking over his cheekbone. "How about we'll go to Cerberus, and later I take you to our bedroom?" Her smile became bigger when she saw that gleam in his eyes.

"I actually said hello to him when I was looking for you and told him I had to take care of my dearest husband…"

She squealed when he suddenly picked her up in a wedding style. She wrapped her arms around him as he carried her into the room. After a passionate night, both of them finally slept peacefully for the first time in a few months, and Bucky didn't complain about the cold.

Author’s note: For years I am sucker for greek mythology AU so here’s my version of it! I hope you liked it!

Thank you for reading! Please, let me know what are you thinking about this one! Your comment means a world for me and motivates me to work!

I am sorry about every grammar mistake and misspellings. English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Taglist: @kaqua

Taglists are open! If you want to be added fill this up or send me an ask!

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shroudcore · 3 years

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Speak now, or forever hold your peace.

Summary: Ace, Rook, Epel, and Riddle failed to stop Eliza and Idia’s wedding. All hope is lost, and midnight is approaching.

An angstier take on Ghost Marriage. Idia x GN!reader. Idia-centric. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story. (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

Wyd when you’re minutes away from receiving the literal kiss of death? Idia wished he could ask Threaddit. Of all ways to go, he never imagined getting kidnapped by a ghost princess and being forced to marry her. It was a dark but almost funny twist that wrote itself into his uneventful shut-in life.

“The wait is over, my prince. It’s time for our vows!” Eliza told him, as if this were something to be happy about. It was absolutely baffling how she never noticed his tears today. His pleas fell to deaf ears as an ancient wedding march played, which sounded more like a funeral march. It was a fitting BGM.

> Idia tried to escape, but was paralyzed on the floor and couldn’t move an inch!

> We need a healer to come save us!

> Someone with a skill to clear debuffs!

At first, he thought it was ridiculous for him to be chosen when Vil, Leona, and Malleus were right there. But now, he figured it was only right for an NPC like him to be sacrificed so that the heroes could shine. The problem was that there were no heroes here—everyone here was selfish. Besides, no one could really save him now. His schoolmates lay defeated on the floor, frozen by Eliza’s OP status effect.

Ace-shi was tied up and silenced after “offending the princess”. He tried to speak, but only incoherent grumbling could be heard with that silvery, translucent gag in the way.

Epel-shi followed after him, but started yelling and wildly waving his bouquet around after Eliza asked him to consider being a bridesmaid. He had to be restrained by the ghosts.

Rook-shi almost did it, but was slapped after Eliza somehow felt that his words weren’t for her alone.

Riddle-shi was rejected for being too short. He tried to reason with the princess, making her feel that he was too serious. He was slapped.

These four would-be saviors were frozen on the floor like everyone who came before. The Headmaster was nowhere to be seen. Since he’d been kidnapped, Ortho had been trying to help. Unfortunately, his brother was unable to do much for him without anyone’s aid. He isn’t even here right now. Idia’s heart broke at the thought of his brother still gathering people to help him.

And you? He hadn’t seen you all day.

While he waited for a savior, Eliza waited for his “I Do.” When the clock strikes twelve, she would kiss him. Then, it would be Game Over.

“I stand before this couple this day to unite them in the bonds of matrimony,” begins the ghost officiant. Idia thinks of his unfinished manga volumes, the anime he didn’t get to watch, the games he never got to play, and movie sequels he’d never get to see. Most importantly, he thinks of you—his unexpected friend. Or maybe the more appropriate word would be crush. These past few weeks, he strongly denied these feelings as if his life depended upon it. Maybe it did.

“... if there be anyone present that may present a just and lawful cause why these two individuals may not be lawfully wed…”

It was totally lame, but yes—your rejection would Crit him.

“... let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

If his schoolmates couldn’t do anything, he didn’t expect you, a magicless human to be able to stop this. Still, it would have felt better to see you try. So, where were you? Did you ever care for him at all, or did he overestimate your friendship points?

“Do you, Idia Shroud, take Eliza as your lawful wife...”

Can someone crash through those doors right at this moment?

to have and to hold from this day forward—”

Maybe an explosion could happen in the middle of the cafeteria idk

“for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,”

Or the ground could crack open, sucking all the ghosts into the Underworld!

in sickness and in health?”

Anyone, please?

“Man, I’m so done with this!” Floyd whined, cutting off the vows and distracting the ghosts. Idia let himself exhale as he silently thanked the eel for interrupting. “When Mr. Firefly Squid gets a kiss, we get to go home, right? Get it done already.” Oh. Or maybe not.

“My back is starting to hurt from being stuck in the same position for so long. Give her a good peck on the lips while the gettin’s good,” said Lilia. What? I gamed with you! Traitor!

“Do as Lilia says! Hurry and give her a good peck!” yelled Sebek. This was followed by more jeers—more urging for him to just die already.

Unbelievable. But he should’ve expected this from the beginning. This was why he hated people. None of them liked him, so none of them would care. It was fair, wasn’t it? There was no one he cared about in here. Only Ortho strongly protested against the wedding, but what could he do and where was he now? If only he knew this was going to happen, then maybe he could have installed some ghostbusting features into Ortho—like that one movie he watched!

In his desperation, he tried to appeal to the closest person to him in the room. “Azul-shi, we’re board game club buddies. Do something!”

But his friend, if he could even be called that, only faked a sniffle. “I’m so moved I can barely see through my tears. Congratulations, you have my blessing!”

If Azul-shi, his closest in the room won’t and couldn’t help him, who would? He hoped it would be you, but that hope has long been squashed and only left him hating that he ever hoped at all. He must have bullied you too much while you were gaming. Did he overdo the trash talk? Was he too mean? (He swears it was all light-hearted!) Did he shut you out too much? Did you hate hanging out with him all along? Of course you would.

Gaming together and talking on VC for hours, he supposed, weren’t enough to make you care if he lost his life tonight.

Eliza talking about the kiss barely registered as a lone tear escaped his eye.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” If you were here, would you be chanting with them? Probably. It’s about time you showed your true colors too.

“STOP CHEERING!” he yelled, anger flaring amidst his sadness. Did he deserve this? Did he deserve to be this hated?

“Pay them no more mind, Idia. Midnight is here!”

“Shut up, shut up! Can’t you see I don’t want this?”

But Eliza leans in, drawing closer and closer. Tears seep out of Idia’s eyes, weeping for things that never came to pass. No. No. No, he chanted in his head with his eyes closed, as if it could do anything. A chilly feeling begins to cover his face. This is it. GG.

A sad and pathetic ending for a sad and pathetic shut-in boy. This was the only love he’ll ever get. Love wasn’t real. Heroes aren’t real. Dating sims aren’t reality. He should just—

BANG.

Huh?

“I OBJECT!”

“That voice!”

“Is it really…?”

Gasps and murmurs erupted in the hall at the sudden arrival of a figure clad in all-black. Beside them was Ortho, and at their feet was Grim. A large hat obscured their face, adding to the mystery of their person. The entire hall was awe-struck.

The ghosts whispered in confusion and alarm, but those who recognized the voice began hoping to be saved. Eliza, who’d been stunned into silence, quickly grew annoyed at the new interruption.

“Who is that?” she asked him, but Idia couldn’t care about her. His heartbeat drummed in his ears. His blood was alive. There they were again—those butterflies you’ve been giving him… as cliché as that sounds.

He watched you take off your hat as the hall greeted you with cheers.

To be continued

This is my first post and I’m nervous as hell.

I’ve been seeing the “Yuu-crashes-Ghost-marriage” idea around and decided to write my (really long) version of it. (Seriously, it got really long ahaha) Thank you for reading. If you liked this, stay tuned for the next parts!

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

#idia x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst fic #twisted wonderland x reader #idia shroud #rewritten

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

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all the flowers will bloom

hades!natasha x persephone!reader

summary: you would have never tried to leave your mother if you knew that bringing that pomegranate tree back to life was your ticket to the underworld. or, maybe you would have, because it turned out that hades was quite the opposite of the evil goddess that you had been drilled to know.

warnings: my own take on greek mythology (apologies to greek people who may possibly see this), usage of both persephone and y/n, angry gods, this is a short series, angst and fluff!!

word count: 4.2k

this is part one!!

please guys i’m so excited for this one, already have so much written and planned!!

You were born from your mother thousands of years ago without so much as a whimper, and when you arrived after a particularly peaceful and short labor,, flowers bloomed for miles. You grew quickly, and you had gained the power of life within everything that grew. Your domain was everything that the light touched and below in the soil, and soon, you were the young goddess of nature and growth. If anyone wanted to find you, they could surely look at the trail of bright flowers that you left with every step of your feet.

The name you were born with was Persephone. But just as the humans wanted to make names for themselves, you wanted one of your own, too. One that was not overshadowed by your mother being Demeter, one of the twelve Olympian Gods, and the ever kind yet harsh Goddess of the Harvest. And so, you changed your name, like many of the others much older than you had done, and all but your mother and the nymphs that she charged to take care of you called you Y/N.

“Lady Persephone,” a soft voice called from behind you as you dipped your toes into your favorite pond, and you sighed when you looked over your shoulder even after recognizing the familiar voice. “Your mother wants you home soon.”

You knew that your mother did. She always wanted you home, away from the outside world- where you truly belonged. She didn’t want you anywhere that she couldn't walk twenty steps to get to you, despite you being two thousand years old. Your mother’s idea of a good day was when you stayed inside, and it wasn’t fair. When you could convince her to let go of your leash just a little, she sent nymphs to watch you, girls you weren’t even close to. They were so focused on not angering your mother that they hardly cared about what you thought. But deep down, you understood. Your mother’s hand was just as gentle as it was harsh, and like the harvest she watched over, she only gave you what you gave her to work with. If you produced her mind with the equivalent of dry soil and broken land, she would be unruly, fickle, quick to fall apart in frustration. If you watered her and gave her the amount of sunlight she needed, she would bless you. She had been that way since the dawn of her time.

“I don’t feel like returning, I’ve only just gotten here.” You weren’t looking at them, but you could practically feel the way that they were eyeing each other, getting more nervous with every passing second. You felt the bottom of the shallow part of the lake that you were in with your foot, and you smiled at the sound of silence, knowing that it would only last for a few minutes.

“Your mother will be quite angry if something happens to you, my lady.”

“Nothing is going to happen for that reason,” you sighed, and when you got a few moments of silence, you knew that they knew you were right.

You walked through life practically fearlessly. From birth, you were deeply connected to every animal . You had no reason to fear even the most vicious bear or boar, and you could not die from poisonous plants of any kind. No minor or major god who knew your mother would even dare come close to you with any ill intent, and humans never came where you liked to be. You were probably the safest god of them all, besides Zeus himself.

“Please don't make me return to that house so early,” you pleaded softly, making sure to not sound too whiny. “I need fresh air. I need to feel grass under my feet. How am I supposed to be the goddess of vegetation if I cannot even see the vegetation?”

If you had been paying more attention, you would have felt the way that the grass started to sway and the whispers of plants all around you. And you surely would have felt the way that part of the ground opened up to reveal your mother, who had heard your entire small speech. “My, what a talker you are.”

You turned around to face her, and she was already giving you a look before she started to talk to you yet again. “I have already told you to not guilt these kind nymphs into doing you any favors. You’re lucky that they still want anything to do with you, you trouble maker.”

“It’s not my fault that you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust men,” she said, her voice hushed. “They are cruel, and they are disgusting. And you are not to be alone when they could be around.”

“There are none here.”

“You wouldn’t know until it’s too late,” she reasoned, and she held a hand out for you. You grimaced when she pulled your legs out of the water and dismissed the nymphs kindly, and they jumped into the water themselves and disappeared. “I cannot trust many with you, my flower. Do not be rude to the very few that I do.”

You scowled as she turned her back, a face that you had never quite grown the courage to make while she was still watching you. You could rattle off many people that your mother had scared away and told you to stay far away from, and that included humans, most men, and a few of the gods that she didn’t trust to not attempt to take you away.

That was her biggest fear, though she never said it explicitly. It was clear that her fierce protectiveness came from her terror. Young girls were always at risk by being taken, by gods and men alike who had no regard for the opinion or feelings of women. It seemed that every hundred years or so, a huge war would break out on earth, and typically, it was because one man’s wife became another’s hostage. And between gods… it was not unheard of for them to take young goddesses and make them bear heirs. None of the ones that you were close with ever did anything like that, but that didn’t make the threat less real. Your mother made sure that you knew of that.

“Don’t speak to Hermes alone,” your mother would say, her voice half full of fondness. “He means well most of the time, but he is capable of fast talking you into selling your time and your soul.” And then there was another string of advice, such as, “ Never go too far out in the sea. Poseidon is moody, and he may not spare you if you start to drown. It takes a village to anger him, but go out of your way to not push Zeus. He is the mightiest of all, and if he wishes to strike you down, he will.” And with every single harsh word about them, she would always say that she doubted that anyone would truly ever wish harm towards you, the youngest of the young gods, the harmless little Goddess of Growth.

Except for Hades.

“She is pure evil,” your mom had hissed out, and you remembered flinching back at how angered she suddenly was by just the thought of the ancient goddess, and you knew from stories that the nymphs used to tell you that your mother and Hades went way back. And though you didn’t know the full story, you certainly understood that they knew each other not in the best of ways.

“She is capable of murdering anything with even a sliver of life in it, and she reigns over the dead. Anyone who is condemned to have such a gloomy job for all of eternity must be evil, and that she is. If you ever see her, or ever start to feel the choking feeling of death in the air and are not with me, you are to run until you cannot run anymore, do you understand me?” She had made you nod and tell her that you understood verbally, and still, even as days passed, the tension never left her body.

Days later, while nursing a flower as slowly as possible from its bud, you called for her. “Mother,” she turned her head and smiled when she saw what you were doing, and then she responded softly, urging you to continue. “What really happened between you and the Goddess of the Dead?” Her smile dropped instantly.

You never really got the full story about what happened.

§§

You had seen what was happening to you happen to others hundreds of times, mostly humans. Your favorite humans were the ones just like you, young women with parents who were worried sick about everything. And soon, you realized a pattern. Every single one of those children had rebelled in ways, some more drastic than others. It took you two thousand years and a few extra nights for you to realize that it was your turn. You were going to sneak out from right under your mother’s nose, and you were going to be back before the morning. Unless, of course, you found something worth staying for. Something worth risking the wrath of your mother for.

It took weeks for her to leave you alone, even if it was for a second. And for that one instance while she wasn’t breathing down your throat, you shot off like an arrow, out of her sight before she even realized that you had been brave enough to run. You hadn’t ever had to run, but it felt exhilarating. You could feel the wind against your skin and the petals of each flower lovingly brushing against your legs. It felt more freeing than growing wildflowers by your cabin, under the watchful eye of an Olympian and her guard dogs that came in the beautiful form of nymphs.

You had never felt so good in your entire two thousand years.

Feeling life had always been something you could do, and you could feel it even more now that you were running, breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth like you had seen soldiers do. With every breath that expanded your lungs, you felt like you could feel trees swaying, or hear leaves singing to you. It grew more addicting, and before you even knew it, you were running until you didn’t recognize where you were. You slowed down with a smile on your face, chuckling to yourself when you thought about how furious your mother was going to be. And then you felt it.

Something to the left of you was terribly, terrifyingly wrong. The life in the area was thriving, but something, a cave it seemed, was crawling with the scary and breathtaking feeling of death. You had felt it before, while discovering lifeless dear or helping your mother bless crops that humans thought had no hope. But you had never felt death on the scale that you were in that moment, and even though the feeling was making you more and more sick by the second, you couldn’t help but approach the cave, the darkest thing in your vision while everything else had enough colors to satisfy your eyes for the rest of your life.

You didn't know what was in the cave. It could have been a dead person for all you knew, but your gift was more or less affecting the cycle of life. You could help. And help, you would. So, you trudged towards the cave and stepped in, your hand covering your throat once you felt the constricting feeling come back even stronger than before. And then, in the dim light, you saw it.

It was a tree, one so dead that it was nearly unrecognizable as one. It had shrunk into itself, almost to the size of a bush, and you could see that the fruits on it had shriveled up, and like the rest of the tree, lost all color. You frowned and uncovered your throat, stepping forward as you watched the dry thing in pity. You reached out for it, bottom lip jutting out as you tried to understand what on earth had happened for it to appear like that. Before you could even ask yourself why you did it, you reached forward and touched the thing with your hand, and like it had known you all along, it started to slowly grow.

It took you a few long minutes to grow it to a point where you recognized the tree, and saw that it was growing pomegranates. The fruit grew redder by the second, and the feeling of death and decay was leaving, but for some reason, traces of it still lingered below, and you figured that it was in the soil. You grinned as you nursed the tree back to life, and the inside of the cave seemed to be just a little brighter.

“I wonder how long you’ve been left here to rot,” you murmured to yourself, your fingers itching to grab one dark purple pomegranate and bite into it, but you knew better. You had just brought it back to life, and eating a part of it would have been cruel. “I wonder if you were even prettier back before-” the ground beneath you made an odd noise, like the earth was taking its first shaky breath, and you braced yourself against the wall of the cave. You gasped when it came back even stronger, and a short scream left your throat when you felt the ground open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

§§

You must have screamed the whole way down, because when you landed harshly on your back, you heard echoes of yourself. You turned and coughed, shaking your head to get rid of the stars that flooded your vision. And then, the second your airways opened, they tightened again, the feeling of death so strong that you thought that you were well on your own way.

You coughed again and clawed at your throat, and then turned on your side as you fought for even just a sliver of breath, and then even with your blurry vision, you saw something huge and dark barreling your way.

“What’s she doing here?” You couldn’t answer. You hardly even knew if they were talking about you. You were still losing it on the ground, gripping at your torn dress and clawing at your throat like that would make it open up.

“She's not human.”

“Wait, wait, she’s not even dead!”

Somehow, the feeling of dread and darkness got even darker, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the overwhelming feeling of death surrounding you like a heavy blanket. “What is all the commotion about?”

Wherever you were grew silent. You heard people scrambling away, leaving you alone with the newcomer. The owner of the voice commanded everything, and you heard the distinct sound of heeled feet coming your way, clicking against stone. And then, right before you lost consciousness, there was a feather-light touch on your throat, right where you felt it was constricting the most, and then you felt the weight on your chest lift off all at once.

You barely got in three breaths before someone shook you, and you blinked rapidly before turning your head towards whoever was grabbing you so boldly. Your eyes focused, and then you almost lost your breath all over again.

You had no time to ogle over the obviously powerful woman and the way she looked. Even if you had time, it would have been ruined by the way she was scowling at you like you were the bane of her existence. “How did you get here?”

You took in a choppy breath. “I don't know. I don’t know where I am.” You looked away from the angry woman and saw your surroundings, and immediately, your heart dropped to your toes.

It was gray. Gloomy. Without any sign of life, not even little buds of grass. There was no color besides a lazy river that was the lightest blue you had ever seen, and it added barely anything to the sight in front of you. The entire place seemed to be made of rock, like one big cave, and the feeling you were getting made you sick. You could breathe again, but something was right. Wherever you were, you were absolutely not supposed to be there.

The woman’s eyes were still narrowed on you, but you didn’t miss the way that her face lit up in the slightest of ways, and then rested at a look of understanding. She let go of you. “You fixed my tree, didn’t you?”

“Your tree?” You repeated, shaking your head and hiding the trembling of your hands by playing with the hem of your dress, something that your mother said that you should never do. It dawned on you seconds later, and you frowned. “The pomegranate tree? It was yours?”

“Of course it’s mine. How were you unaware?”

Before you could let yourself get offended by the woman’s harshness, you crossed your arms for a different reason. “How dare you let something die like that? You left it to rot, I could feel the death from miles away,” you exaggerated, but it still didn’t move the woman. “If you plant something and call it yours, it’s your responsibility to take care of it, not to let it die.”

“My plants never grow, young god.”

You scoffed, even though your mother would be embarrassed that you made the sound with such confidence. “Young god?” You straightened your posture even as your fear grew, and the stranger seemed to grow more and more amused by you. “We’ve never met. It’s bold of you to assume my age.”

“I’ve met all the Olympians, so tyou can’t be one of them, and you’re no demigod, either,” she said, and your heart clenched at the fact. You knew no one who had met all twelve of the major gods that wasn’t one. The woman was certainly a god, it was as obvious as anything in the world, but you had no idea of what. “And you glow like the morning sun. You’re a young god.”

“Maybe so,” you said softly. “But I request that you take care of the things you decide to create.”

“Most people don’t get brave enough to request things from me,” she mused, and then her crossed arms went to her side. “Do you lack the skills to look around you and infer?”

“I suppose I do today,” you shrugged, and she gave a light smirk, almost like you were her entertainment for the day. You could hear your mother’s voice in your head though, telling you to run and that this woman was no good, no matter how at ease she seemed in the moment. In fact, the closer she got to you and the longer she stood there, the more you felt death swirling in the air and trying to pierce through some sort of protection and finish you off for good.

“You’re in the Underworld, young god.” Your breath was stolen right out of your chest, and you could barely see the faint look of triumph on her face. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know what that tree was,” she said, and for some reason, her voice seemed to tease you more than reprimand you.

You knew vaguely of what it meant. Now that you knew it was the tree, the one tree on all heaven and earth that you had no business touching, you knew who it belonged to, and what it did. It belonged to the woman before you, the god whose presence was making you more and more terrified by the second. Now, you knew exactly who she was. “You?” You sputtered, and she lifted a perfect brow. “You’re Hades?”

You don’t know what you expected. Maybe a woman dressed in all back wit long, dark hair, and a sickly smile. Maybe you expected for her to look as terrifying as the thought of death was. You expected some one who looked much more terrifying than the red headed woman before you, even though she was without a doubt intimidating.

“I prefer another name, but that will do from you,” she said, and your jaw dropped. “And you saved my tree.” You knew you had, but the consequences of the far ff tale that you had never imagined would apply to you were running around in your head. You were kicking yourself for being drawn to the tree in the first place, and for your morbid curiosity and the way that you ran straight out of your mother’s suffocating but protecting arms. “Do you know what that means, young god?”

Your voice was shaky, almost not even there when you muttered the word “yes” and stared off into the distance, cursing yourself for not listening to what your mother had told you ever since you could remember.

“I hope you have enough strength for the entire garden, young god.”

You were bound to Hades and her realm by age old magic, and there was nothing that you or your mother could do until you found a way to do the impossible; make the Garden of Hell grow.

Your blank stare must have made her uneasy, because she snapped her fingers in front of your face. When you blinked, you saw something huge come barreling your way, and once you realized what it was, your heart fell into your stomach. She had summoned a huge, three headed dog to come and lean over the both of you, eyes yellow and staring at you with intrigue that made you want to screech. Instead, you swallowed. “Please. You can let me go, I won’t tell.”

“Its magic almost as old as I am, placed by Hecate. You may know her as Wanda.” She gave you a shrug, but she hardly looked bothered. “Her spell cannot be broken, not even by herself.”

Your breathing was accelerating, and you saw Hades look at you strangely, and you were sure she could sense your extreme fear. You locked eyes with the dog, the dog even you had heard of despite your mother cursing the owner’s name. “I don’t know how I fixed your tree, and I doubt I could do it again. Please, let me leave.”

“By bringing that tree back to life, you’ve made your decision and signed your name in blood.” You both ignored the pitiful sound that escaped your throat. “There’s nothing that I can do about it.”

You gulped. “My mother will come looking for me,” you said, and you watched her unbothered face drop just a bit, and then she tilted her head to the side. You had gotten her. “She won’t stop until she finds me and brings me home.”

“You say this like I should be afraid of your mother, who is no doubt a nymph of some far off forest.” You made a face. She simply shrugged, her shoulder length red hair bouncing a bit. “She’s nothing to me.”

Being a nymph was the furthest thing from dishonorable. They were loyal and always very beautiful. You almost cried when you realized that you would never see your overbearing nymphs again. “My mother is not a nymph.”

“I do not care for whatever minor goddess birthed you, young goddess. Not even Zeus could break this, and you’d best understand that.”

“My mother is friends with Hecate. She will make her find a way to release me, Hades.”

There was a pause in the conversation, but none of the tension faded. If anything, it only built on the silence. “How is it that you’re a god, yet I’ve never seen you?” Hades asked, a frown on her face.

“My mother keeps you far away from me because she despises you.” You spat, and you saw a flash of light behind her eyes, and she breathed out harshly. “I was never supposed to meet you.”

“The Fates have spun your destiny a different way than either of us have hoped, then.” She said, her voice rough as she looked you right in your eyes. It was then that you noticed how pale her blue eyes were, and the emotion that lacked. Her pink lips curled down all of a sudden, and then her eyes were narrowed. “Demeter, isn’t it? She’s your mother?”

You gathered all of the courage that you had left after everything that happened. The feeling of death was still intimidating, and even worse was the way Hades commanded the space with her hellhound. “Yes. And she will find me, and she will take me home.”

“This is a one way ticket until you can fix my garden, flower girl. Believe me, I don’t particularly want you here, either.” She looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the crown of flowers on your forehead and the way you had bands of them wrapped around your wrists and ankles. You were the brightest thing down there, and it was obvious that she wasn’t used to seeing things so… alive. “Your mother is just going to have to be upset.” She gave you one last look, her eyes on the dress made of fabric and flowers for a second too long to be categorized as a fleeting glance. She muttered something in a language that was foreign to you, and her unimaginably tall dog stood all the way up at attention, slightly baring its teeth at you until you forced yourself to look away from it.

And then they were gone. And you were alone. By yourself in the Land of the Dead, the one place a flower would never grow. In the one place where you could truly perish.

*******

hi guys! i really hope you guys liked this one, this idea has been like swirling around in my mind for months and i can’t get it to leave. it’s s much fun right now to write though, so i hope at least one of y’all enjoyed this lol

if you happen to like this and would like to be placed on one of my tragic tag lists, it’s a definite yes for me! thank you guys for reading this

#marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #natasha romanoff x reader #my fics #natasha x reader #hades!natasha x persephone!reader #natasha Romanoff fluff #natasha series #mythology au #greek mythology au #hades!natasha #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov fluff #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic

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dailylogyn · 3 years

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Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s Relationship in Mythology

It’s a classic tale, and arguably one of the most famous in mythology: How Sigyn held a bowl above her lover’s head to shield Loki from the snake’s venom, in turn, holding back Ragnarok a little longer.

But how did Loki and Sigyn come to be married? How did they meet? How did they fall in love?

With so many questions, but few answers we are left with in what has survived with the stories today, we are often left to ponder how the story of Loki and Sigyn came to be. As have many others before me, I will be exploring my thoughts with what information we are given to ponder as to how these two lovers became a thing.

To answer this question, we must go back to the beginning where Sigyn was first introduced to us in the mythologies, presenting the ONLY information we know about their relationship -- specifically: The Poetic Edda & Prose Edda.

In the poem, Lokasenna, the most famous of poem’s with the couple, it talks of how Loki has been bound by the gods with the guts of his son, Nari, and how his son, Vari, has been turned into a wolf. The Goddess Skadi fastens a venomous snake over Loki’s face, from which venom drips. Sigyn, stated as Loki’s wife, stays by his side and holds a basin under and catches the venom so it won’t drip onto her husband, but when the basin grows full, she pulls it away to empty it, during which time venom drops onto Loki, causing him to wither so violently that earthquakes occur that shake the entire earth.

In the poem, Gylfaginning, Sigyn is introduced in Chapter 31 as being married to Loki and that they have a son by the name of “Narfi or Nari”. She is then mentioned again in Chapter 50 where events are described differently than in Lokasenna; Vali, described as a son of Loki only, is changed into a wolf by the gods and rips apart his brother, “Narfi or Nari.” The guts of Nari are then used to tie Loki to three stones, after which the guts turn to iron, and Skadi places a snake above Loki. Sigyn of course catches the venom in a bowl. This process is repeated until he breaks free, setting Ragnarok into motion.

In the poem, Skáldskaparmál, Sigyn is introduced as a goddess, an Æsir, where the gods are holding a feast for their visitors and in kennings for Loki: “husband of Sigyn” and “cargo [Loki] of incantation-fetter’s [Sigyn’s] arms.”

Now, knowing the little knowledge we have on their relationship, it’s time to explore it from the Viking’s point of view, which is where this all pretty much originated from, in order to understand it better.

Viking Way of Love and Life

I’m no expert in this category, in fact, I’m still learning about it as I go, but there are some important key things to note here about the Viking’s POV on things and how it ties into Loki & Sigyn’s relationship.

Divorce was completely acceptable in Viking Times. In fact, women could own property, request a divorce and reclaim dowries if a marriage ended. She could divorce him for a good number of reasons actually.

Women often remained faithful to their husbands, although they were known to have extramarital sex. If they were caught cheating by the husbands, it usually ended pretty badly for the women.

A Man couldn’t marry his concubine, so his wife wouldn’t have to feel threatened about competition. They usually all lived in the same household. Adultery concerning the husband was okay, but not the wife.

Vikings didn’t categorize people as homosexual, bisexual, straight or etc.They differentiated between submissive and dominant roles in sexual relationships. Homosexuality was acceptable with limits.

Poetry was a big part of Courtship.

Typically marriage was usually for alliances, set up by families and parents. However, this doesn’t mean there wasn’t romance or love between couples or potential marriages.

Family life was important to Norse Men and people usually aimed to survive: typically by marrying and having children.

How does this apply to Loki and Sigyn? Now, let’s dive into the typical hypothesis of their relationship. I call it a typical hypothesis because it hasn’t really been outright pointed out in the mythologies, but it’s something the Mythology community usually agrees on concerning Loki and Sigyn’s relationship from what we know here.

A Hypothesis into Loki & Sigyn’s Marriage

The marriage between the two of them alone is usually questioned by others, especially concerning Loki’s chaotic nature and Sigyn’s undying loyalty. Obviously, she could have divorced him whenever she wanted to if things were bad, but instead she remains by his side which leads us to the fact, not only does she truly love Loki, but she also knows more to him than we do -- as if there is a secret hidden side to the god of Mischief.

It is sometimes implied that the marriage between Loki and Sigyn was an arranged one to establish position in Asgard -- as marriages typically were in Viking Times. This doesn’t mean there wasn’t love between them, In fact, it could have been a perfectly arranged marriage.

Sigyn isn’t blind to Loki’s flaws, knowing perfectly well how her lover is and accepting him flaws and all -- unlike the other gods. It’s more than likely she knows about his other children: Jormungandr, Sleipnir, Hel and Fenrir, just as she probably knows about his affair with Angrboda. Again, this wasn’t an uncommon thing in Viking Times for a man to have another lover and other children with them.

Loki is very much a family person, just as he enjoys having fun. There has never been anything alluding to him abandoning his family or abusing Sigyn and his kids despite what pop culture or other versions may say. Instead, they have been taken away from him by others in someway (ex: Vali having to kill Narvi as the gods use his insides as Loki’s bindings. Odin taking away all of Loki’s children, making Hel the ruler of the underworld, Jory the serpent of Midgard’s sea and Fenrir locked in bonds. Lets also not forget Sleipnir becoming Odin’s horse and most of his children dying during Ragnarok because of said gods. Sigyn’s whereabouts are unknown and Angrboda is dead. Case in point: I’d wanna start Ragnarok too.)

Vikings typically used motifs or symbolism with their writings. This is where the “opposites attract/compliment each other aka Balance of nature’ comes into play. While Loki is outright known as a Trickster God, hence the God of Mischief (which is typically harmless pranks or fun), but it usually ends with bad results for him, turning into Chaos. And what’s the opposite of Chaos? Constancy and Order. Although it isn’t outright stated, she is pointed out as Loki’s loyal wife and seems to offer that Constancy to his Chaos. Hence, some of us refer to them as “Different Sides of the Same Coin.”

Conclusion

Loki and Sigyn’s relationship is typically misunderstood by others nowadays thanks to how little information we have on them in the texts, some peoples own interpretations of their relationship (*coughs* MARVEL COMICS *coughs*) and how much Sigyn still remains to be unknown by others.

I believe that if their relationship was to be portrayed in the proper way, taking everything here into note and not given to writers who don’t understand or refuse to take the time to understand their relationships/characters, they might actually be understood better overall. A good example of this I’ve found myself is from the German Movie: Mara and the Firebringer and Neil Gaiman’s book: Norse Mythology. They both explore Loki and Sigyn’s relationship in a proper light, not undermining either of them and exploring their thought process and actions in ways that only strength their relationship and one another as individual characters bonded together in marriage.

Bonus mention to The Bifrost Incident by The Mechanisms for their interpretation of Loki and Sigyn’s relationship as well.

_____________________________________________________________

SOURCES:

Viking Love: 8 Facts about Love and Love making from the Vikings - https://historycollection.com/eight-facts-love-marriage-viking-style/

The Love Life of the Vikings - https://historyofyesterday.com/love-life-of-vikings-f21c9ed58d4e

Norse Mythology Character Tropes - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Characters/NorseMythology

Mara and the Firebringer TV Tropes (SPOILERS BEWARE) - https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Film/MaraAndTheFirebringer

Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology (Book) - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norse_Mythology_(book)

The respective Edda’s are linked above by their names.

#logyn #norse mythology #sigyn #loki #Constancy & Chaos (Logyn)#loki x sigyn #loki and sigyn #logyn meta #the bifrost incident #mara and the firebringer

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solena2 · 3 years

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So.

Tommy isn’t Theseus. Every time I see Techno’s analogy about Tommy being Theseus brought up I’m filled with endless rage and I’ve DECIDED!

That it’s about time I explained just why it’s so objectively incorrect.

First: a bit of backstory on Theseus, because I doubt many of you actually know much about him beyond what Techno said in his “so you want to be a hero” speech, which left out a lot of relevant details.

Theseus was a demigod with two fathers and one mother. His fathers were king Aegeus of Athens and the sea god Poseidon, and his mother was Aethra, Aegeus’ wife. Aethra raised Theseus on her own, far from Athens to avoid him being assassinated.

Aegeus left him nothing but a sword with the Athenian crest and a pair of sandals, buried under a rock so no one else could get them.

When Theseus came of age, he took the sword and sandals and headed up to Athens, slaying various monsters along the way. (It pains me to abbreviate it that much, but Techno left out everything before the Minotaur so it won’t help me much in debunking his analogy.)

Once he got to Athens, he met up with his dad, chased out his stepmom Medea, (yes, that Medea) and killed some people. Then comes the relevant part.

Crete had won a war against Athens a while back, and because of this, every seven years Athens was forced to send 14 tributes to be killed by the Minotaur. (Yes, this inspired the Hunger Games)

Theseus decided he’d volunteer and kill the Minotaur, thus ending the tribute system for good and getting one over on Athens. He promised his dad that if he won, he’d come back in a ship with white sails, as opposed to the standard mourning black that signified the death of the tributes.

So he went to Crete, met king Minos and his daughters Ariadne and Phaedra, and got sent into the labyrinth. Ariadne gave him a magic ball of string that kept him from getting lost, allowing him to find the Minotaur and then safely get out afterwards, providing he could kill it.

He killed it, led his other 13 tributes out, and sailed back home. On the way, Athena told him to leave Ariadne stranded on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean, so he immediately did so, because Theseus was an asshole.

He got home, his dad committed suicide because Theseus forgot the white sails and his dad assumed he’d died, Theseus became king and married Phaedra, and then the fun began, because again, Theseus was an asshole.

First, he cheated on Phaedra with Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, so she left and took the kids. Next, he and his other asshole friend Pirithous decided to kidnap themselves some new wives. Theseus decided on Helen of Troy, who was a child at the time, and Pirithous decided on Persephone, which resulted in both him and Theseus getting stuck in the Underworld for a while due to pissing off Hades.

Once he got back up, he killed his son for fucking his wife, which is messed up on many levels, and then left Athens because his people were rightfully not super okay with that.

Then he goes and meets Lycomedes, who throws him off a cliff.

Next, let’s talk about Techno’s speech a bit.

He starts off by accusing Tommy of being a power hungry dictator (paraphrased), before asking him if he wants to be a hero.

Then, he provides what is apparently the archetypal example of heroism, something often associated with selflessness, kindness, and generally giving at least one singular solitary fuck about other people.

Theseus! Heroic hero who does heroic things, like, uhhh *checks notes* cheating on his wife, kidnapping children with plans to forcefully marry them, leaving people alone on tiny islands with no supplies, killing his kid, etc. etc...

So we’re off to a great start.

Then, he gives a short summary of Theseus’ life and times! He skips the first part of his life completely, which is hilarious to me because it’s the only time Theseus ever did anything actually heroic or selfless, and gets straight to the meat!

“Let me tell you a story, Tommy. A story of a man called Theseus. His country was in danger, he sent himself forward! Into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur! And saved his city. You know what they did to him, Tommy? They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes, Tommy.”

-Technoblade

So first off, he doesn’t mention... really anything other than the Minotaur and the exile, which is leaving out a lot of relevant details, like why Theseus was exiled. (You know, killing his son in cold blood?)

Second, he doesn’t give details in general. Not that he should’ve given a full telling, or anything, but I’m always surprised by the shortness of this speech when I go back and listen to it. He pretty much just gives the barest bones of an argument and expects his audience to take it at face value. (Which they do, but it’s still bad practice)

From the more accurate (if still brief) summary if Theseus’ life I’ve just given, I’m sure you can see why this might be more than a bit dubious, as an analogy. Given cc!Technoblade is literally an English major, and doubtless knows significantly more about the myth than I do, I’d imagine this was never intended to be taken at face value.

Over and over again, c!Techno proves himself to be an unreliable narrator, and over and over again, the fandom at large takes his word as gospel.

Now, as far as a more in depth argument for Tommy as Theseus goes, I will attempt to debunk that as well, because there are some genuinely good points to be made.

First of all, most people make Dream out to be the Minotaur. Given the time this speech was made, I imagine Schlatt was the intended target of that, but with latter events in mind, Dream does make much more sense.

I’d say this is honestly pretty fair, but I don’t think Tommy takes the role of Theseus in that narrative. I’d argue he’s much more analogous to the role of Ariadne, giving the tools required to defeat Dream but ultimately not doing so through his own power, but because someone chose to take those tools and make use of them. This also provides the very interesting characterization of Punz as Theseus, which is an incredibly unique take that I hope some a Punz enthusiast does something with, because I don’t know enough about his lore to make a good analysis on that.

The idea of Schlatt as the Minotaur, as was probably intended by Techno at the time, makes much more sense, though I still think other characters fit the role better. Firstly, Schlatt wasn’t killed, he died of a heart attack, and if someone had killed him I think it’s more likely to have been Wilbur or Techno who did it than Tommy, as Tommy was still very hopeful and idealistic at the time, at least compared to his character now. You could posit Tommy as Ariadne again in this situation, given he was the one to mastermind the final charge, and though I think Tommy as Ariadne is an idea that’s worth further exploration, I’d say Fundy futs the Ariadne role here much better, with him giving the spy’s diary before being effectively shunned and left out in the cold by both Pogtopia and Manburg, much like Ariadne was abandoned in the original myth.

I’d posit the Theseus in this scenario as Techno, Wilbur, or possibly Philza, as they were the ones to actually kill things in the 16th, though Techno and Wilbur’s killings were more in the metaphorical sense, taking the second life of L’manburg.

As for the exile, Tommy exile was alike to that of Theseus only in concept. Both were sent from their kingdoms for a crime, resulting in a falling out with someone close to them, and had a precarious relationship with heights while they were gone, but that’s about where the similarities end and even then they’re superficial.

First of all, Tommy’s exile was far more because Dream was looking for an excuse to do it than because briefing actually means anything on the SMP, given how Dream had been griefing bases and blaming Tommy for it for a while before it went down. (Fun fact, Bad and Skeppy were going to burn one of his discs over this, but one of them got sick so they had to cancel the stream.)

Theseus’ exile, on the other hand, was entirely deserved, especially when you consider how serious a crime killing family was in Ancient Greek culture. It was pretty much the biggest no-no in existence, and I’m almost surprised he wasn’t just straight up executed for it.

Second, Tommy’s falling out with Tubbo was almost entirely due to outside forces, (Dream) rather than because anything Tommy had done. Though Tommy’s cavalierness towards the trial and attempts to threaten Dream with Spirit doubtless didn’t help things, Dream surrounding L’manburg in obsidian walls and threatening them to exile Tommy was entirely his own choice, and not something that can be pinned on Tommy, no matter what the apologists may say.

Meanwhile, Theseus’ falling out with Phaedra had begun long before his exile with him cheating on her. Him killing his son was merely the last in a long line of dominos to completely destroy their relationship.

Last, Tommy nearly killing himself is very different from Theseus being pushed off a cliff. Tommy’s near suicide was the direct result of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of c!Dream for what was canonically, I believe, several months? (Correct me if I’m wrong on that one.) Tommy almost jumping off a pillar because he was deliberately isolated from his support systems is nothing like Theseus being killed because he was a cocky asshole who thought he was god.

So that’s why I don’t think Tommy is anything like Theseus, and why I’m filled with endless rage by the completely uncritical acceptance of this parallel, but it’s not the whole reason it pisses me off.

It also pisses me off because, as stated earlier, cc!Techno is an English major. He knew what he was doing with this. The fandom’s insistence on refusing to acknowledge his character as an unreliable narrator is, in my opinion, acting as a massive kneecap to what could be a great analysis of how he thinks.

Specifically: why does c!Technoblade think Tommy is like Theseus?

Of all the Greek heroes to pick, why that one? Was it just the tantalizing opportunity to parallel Schlatt with a horned monster, or was it because c!Techno has some genuine in-character reason to think this myth specifically applies to Tommy.

Now, we all know people in the SMP have a habit of analogizing Wilbur and Tommy. The assumption Tommy wanted to be president, the belief that Tommy nominated Tubbo directly, the belief that he was intentionally deceiving Techno about Pogtopia’s intentions regarding Manburg... all of these stem from Wilbur. There are more cases of this, of course, but several analyses have been done in the subject already, and this is long enough without more padding.

So why does Techno think Tommy is Theseus? Well, it’s simple, isn’t it?

Wilbur is Theseus.

To be continued, because this is already too long and my brain hurts.

#original post #dream smp #dream smp analysis #technoblade #tommyinnit #technoblade critical #(i guess. honestly I didn’t say much about techno himself in this but just to be safe)#dsmp #dsmp analysis #dream smp meta #dsmp meta #my writing #can you tell i don’t like Theseus much #hated to leave out his early life stuff because it’s genuinely super interesting but it wasn’t really relevant so I had to cut it :(#if you want a more detailed description of Theseus I’d recommend the rick riordan book on Greek heroes #it’s not the most scholarly work but it gives the bare bones of the myths in an accessible way that doesn’t take an English degree to read #call me a fake nerd if you want but I like the humor and digestibility #there are typos in this post and I Do Not Care

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Character : Mob!Steve Rogers x Female Reader (?)

Summary : Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her.

A/n :This #### will be used to explain the character’s past.

Warning : Grammar mistakes, since English is not my first language.

Somewhere in Brooklyn.

There’s a female who is taking a nap on the couch. Today’s activity kind of exhausts her because of last night and the unexpected event at the restaurant. She wants to take a nap first before having dinner. But after 10 minutes, her beautiful sleep got distracted.

“(Y/N) !!! (Y/N) !!!”

(Y/N) awakened up from her nap because of the smashing door. She rubbed her eyes with her backhand. When her eyes finally focused, she could see someone standing in front of her.

She lazily asked him, “What’s up, Bambi?”

“Don’t call me with that nickname.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because you have grown up. But Peter Parker, in my eyes, I will always remember the boy who cried asking me for ice cream.” She put on her smirk smile, her hands moving fast to mess up his hair.

He slapped her hand that made her giggle.

“It’s not like I hate you coming to my house? But what’s wrong with that pouted face Peter?”

Peter heavily sighed; this time, he threw his body to the couch. He crossed his arms and pouted.

“Aww, ~~ What's it, partner? If you keep sighing, you will get older.”

“Urgh,” Peter rests his head on her shoulder. “When can I have a job that doesn't relate to guns?”

"You can."

Peter lifts his head to get a look at her. "How?"

"Die first."

"Thanks (Y/N)."

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulder, "You can't get rid of it. It's already in your DNA."

She pinches Peter's cheeks. "Why do you sound sarcastic today?" Usually, every time he came into her house, she could see flowers behind him. Now the background changes into grumpy Squidward.

Peter’s face still on the pillow, he grumbles, "You shouldn’t come to my work today."

"Why not? I'm worried about you."

"Pietro has been asking me about you."

"He knew I'm related to you?" (Y/N) seems surprised.

Peter nodded. "He noticed on my first day."

"He's good."

"But today…. It's not only him." Peter grumbled.

(Y/N) still impressed about Pietro’s instinct, she didn’t hear Peter grumbled since he speaks to soft "What?"

He shook his head "Nothing."

"Are you going to have a sleepover?"

Peter has been living in his place since he graduates from university. Before he said anything (Y/N), grab his hand. "Please… I'm tired eating delivery also instant mac&cheeseeeee~."

Peter shook his head; who would even think a former assassin like (Y/N) could act like a child because of food.

####

To explain the relationship between Peter and (Y/N); both are not related by blood. (Y/N) knew him because of his mother, and she met him when she was an assassin.

And a deadly one.

Why did she leave?

Because of Peter.

Something happened that made (Y/N) choose to burn everything from her past to the ground literally. She made quite a name in the underworld.

####

"Fine." He answered that made (Y/N) raised her arms to cheer.

"But only for today though, because my new housemate is coming." said Peter while he went to the fridge to get some ingredients.

(Y/N) looking at his back, the boy in front of him acts more mature than her. Time moved so fast the first time she met him; he asked her for a piggyback, cried when she didn't give him ice cream and blamed her when he's the one who broke his mother's favorite plate.

And now, he is almost taller than her, independent, better at cooking and moving out from their luxury home.

(Y/N) puts her chin on her palm. "I don't understand why you need to move out." She doesn't want to tell the truth that she misses him.

Peter already started cutting the vegetables. He had a reason why he moved out; somehow (Y/N) past will come to hunt and target her.

####

Peter knew everything about her and saw it. He could live with it, but he couldn't sleep every time he heard a gun, a sound of grunting because of the stabbing, and in the morning, he saw their house destroyed with bullet holes and destroyed furniture.

They have to move a couple of times.

He never saw any blood and dead bodies, (Y/N) top priorities were to get rid of the blood and bodies before he sees it.

Peter knew that she understood his reason why; he could see her teary eyes when he told her he wanted to move out. She felt guilty for all the things he had been going through because of her.

But it takes two to tango. Peter was the one who asked to stay beside her before she dropped him with his aunt May Parker on that day.

What (Y/N) said was right; it’s already in his DNA. Danger always follows him because of his mother.

His mother used to be an assassin like (Y/N) until she met his father. She left everything to build a family together.

But their happy life was cut short; one day, he lost his parents, and that's the first time he saw the dark side of (Y/N) and the first time he knew what revenge is.

####

"I met someone." Peter answer.

"Owww~ My brother is a man now~."

Peter looked at her through his shoulder.

She nodded her head multiple times. "I understand you need privacy."

"But use protection okay?"

"Ugh,(Y/N)!! Seriously…?"

(Y/N) laughed while putting her hands on it defensively. "Sorry, I will stop it."

After 30 minutes, both of them finally eat dinner together.

"Someone else beside Pietro also asked about you."

"Hmm."

"You knew who it was don't you?"

(Y/N) winked at him.

She knew it must be Steve because it is obvious he tries to flirt with her, and she gave him her phone number. She made a program if someone put specific keywords along with her fake name, she would get notified. (Y/N) only tell her real name to someone that she could fully trust.

She must admit he almost got her, with the help from Starks, the other genius, but she's better at hiding.-

"You planned to make him more curious about you right?"

"You're getting smarter Peter." (Y/N) want to meet Steve once again. Today the moment she saw his face, it looked like a cheesy chick flick movie.

She could replay the moment he approached her. And when he tried to be cool to say 'Hi' but failed, that was cute.

(Y/N) wasn’t planning to stay long at the restaurant today but she has to because she’s worried about Peter. Last night both of them went out to get dinner when they had back her old enemy try to target her. It failed since (Y/N) is much more powerful, but Peter’s shoulder got hit.

He said he was fine, but her heart clenched when she saw the blue bruise on his shoulder. Peter is a stubborn boy; he doesn’t want to make her worried. But she is; that’s why she chooses to stay to make sure he’s alright.

She didn’t regret staying since she met a gorgeous man today. Perhaps cupid plays its part.

Peter added, "He's a good boss, don't shock him."

"You make me look like a cold hearted bitch." (Y/N) scoffed.

Peter sighed. "The time when you were with Billy Russo?"

"It was brief, but we are cool."

"It's hard to believe when he sent his Anvil team to get you."

"Because of me, he learned that his team was weak. He even sent a letter thanking you and said let's meet again."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head; he wishes he wishes the best for Billy.

"The time with August Walker?"

"To be fair, I betrayed him, but hey, we got a free helicopter."

"Zemo?"

"Both of us agreed to break up, and he ended up married with his true love. Happy ending."

Peter sighed "(Y/N); the reason why I'm saying this is because everytime you broke up with your boyfriend, they would come after you." The aftermath is always messy.

"I love this job, and my new friend. Please don't mess this up." He makes it clear since he liked his new workplace; the first time he came for the interview, he knew something different.

####

How Peter ended up working in Steve Rogers’s business?

Peter’s previous boss closed the restaurant to enjoy retirement with his wife. He recommended Peter to try at Rogers.

Rogers restaurant has been known as a prestigious dining place. He thought his chance was small, but it turned out he passed with flying color. Wanda was impressed by the way he could keep up with her work ethic.

After working a few days, he realized Rogers is not just a regular restaurant.

Pietro interrogated him to get some info about (Y/N), and one more obvious reason he saw a gun under Vision blazer, why would a manager own a gun? Why?

Then (Y/N) told him the truth that his boss is a famous mobster in Brooklyn.

Peter sighed when he heard that; he thought he could start living like an average person.

####

"You knew me Peter." She put down the knife and fork, then sipped a glass of red wine.

"I'll listen to you. Besides, I quite like him."

Peter widened his eyes "You mean genuine like him right? Without any agenda?"

(Y/N) nodded, "Maybe he could be your future brother in law."

Peter immediately shivered to imagine Steve became his family. "Let's not think to far (Y/N)."

Unlike Peter, someone else already thinks of it.

Somewhere far away, in a secret mansion where Steve and others gathered.

Three of them sit around the table; Bucky and Sam were nervous while Steve is playing with the dagger.

Natasha is furious. "I knew someday Rumlow will make a fuss at our area and make a big mess. But what I don't understand is why I got a call from the fixer and then the interior design telling me they want an extra payment because we asked them to finish in a month?"

She already anticipated the surprise attack from Brock since he replaces Pierce. It’s nothing new for them.

She noticed that Steve doesn’t listen to her complaints "Did Brock hit Steve's head? It looks like he’s not listening to me.”

Sam bumped Bucky’s elbow to talk to his wife.

Bucky cleared his throat because his seat is near to her. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Honey, Uhm… so today, something else happened."

Natasha listened what her husband whispered to her, what she hear made her gasped "Pietro!! Bring out the vodka !!" She called out their favorite bartender.

"Wake him up," Nat told her husband, her head pointed at Steve.

Bucky threw a french fries from his plate at Steve.

It hit Steve’s cheeks, successfully got his attention. He realizes Natasha sits in front of him, and Pietro serves them vodka.

Sam shook his head; he silently murmured his boss also, his best friend is in lovesick right now.

"Ooh, something to celebrate?"

"Little white wolf told me you got lovestruck today?"

Bucky’s hand covers his red cheeks when his wife mentions his nickname while Sam pretends not to hear it.

"Yes." Steve admitted.

"Congrats.” Natasha smirked while asking him, “So... she's the reason why you want our restaurant to reopen next month?"

"Correct."

"Ow, interesting."

“What makes her unusual was, she’s the only guest that didn’t run when the fight happens.” Bucky said.

“She’s the one who gave him that dagger.” Sam added.

“And, we couldn’t find anything about her even with the help from Starks.”

Bucky and Sam told her everything; they told her with excitement like they found a discovery.

Natasha was immensely impressed when she heard that “Can’t wait to meet her.”

They wish Steve could find someone that can accept who he is. In the last relation he had, they tried to change him by asking him to leave the mobster. It ended up badly, making Steve became bitter about everything.

If this woman not afraid to see what happened today, perhaps she could accept who Steve is.

"Me too." Said Steve, his lips could reach his eyes. His eyes are still looking at the dagger, thinking that he has to impress her the next time they meet.

A/N: Dum Dum dum~~~~

The female reader turned out to be a retired assassin. At first, I want to make the reader be Peter’s godmother, but I don’t want her to be that old, so I change it to stepsister.

Thank you for all the likes, my new follower and for repost. I really appreciate it.

Please tell me if you want to be tagged for the next chapter.

>>>Chapter 3

Tag:

@cloudystevie,

@marce170018

@stepheewdgirlie

@juliealma1

@valhalla-kristin

#mob!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve #peter parker #cs4kwritingchallenge #Marvel AU #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x y/n

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Wait For Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you tell Cap the story of all the times you and Peter waited for each other. Takes place during Engame

Listen to Wait For Me from Hadestown for the inspiration behind this story

Masterlist

6 years ago

“Whats the B for?” You asked as you traced your fingers over the shiny brass clasp of Peters suitcase. It was your first time hearing of his superhero abilities, and he had pulled out his suit to confirm his identity. You had always known there was something special about Peter, something that set him apart. Him being a superhero came as no surprise to you, so you were more distracted by the monogrammed suitcase where he kept his suit.

“Benjamin. Like my uncle.” He said as he watched your face for any signs of judgement. There was the slightest whisper of a smile on your lips as you rubbed your thumb over the engraving.

“I remember him.” You nodded and looked up at Peter, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him. “Benjamin. I like that for you. It’s fitting.”

“Is it? I always thought Benjamin was an old mans name.” He laughed shyly as he scratched behind his ear.

“No. It’s cute.” You told him and he flushed. “You look like a Peter Benjamin, you know? Some people just look like their names.”

Peters mouth opened and shut a few times and he tried to think of a response. He wasn’t used to talking to you everyday, much less used to how pretty you’d gotten. 10 years apart and suddenly you were hanging out in his bedroom everyday, catching up on the part a of each other’s lives that you had missed. Your delicate features, now more defined with age but still soft, made it hard for Peter to think around you. He thought he’d never see you again after you left but here you were, folded up in his bed and running you fingers over the material of his Spiderman suit.

“I’d say the same for you, but you never told me your middle name.” He said finally, thinking back in his memory for any indication of what it was. “It begins with an E right?”

You smiled softly at him, appreciating his keen memory.

“Eurydice.” You told him and he tilted his head.

“What?” He asked, not realizing that was the name.

“It’s Eurydice.” You repeated. “It’s from greek mythology. It was my mother’s favorite story growing up.”

“What’s the story?” Peter set the suitcase on the ground and scored closer to you to give you his full attention.

“You really wanna know?” You tested him, still able to tell when he was lying.

“With all my heart.” He said as he crossed his heart with his fingers. You rolled your eyes at him, not having seen that movement since you were litter.

“Okay. There are a few different versions, but this one is my favorite.” You began. “A long time ago, there was a poor woman called Eurydice and she was married to a musician named Orpheus. Eurydice knew they were gonna starve if they didn’t make some money and buy food, but all Orpheus wanted to do was make music. She ended up selling her soul to Hades-“

“Wait, you were named after a devil worshipper?” Peter cut you off with a laugh.

“No.” You shoved him playfully. “Hades is the god of the Underworld. He’s not the devil.“

“Okay. Go on.” He urged you, leaning his chin on his hands, unintentionally squishing his cheeks.

“So Eurydice sells her soul and gets sent to the Underworld. When Orpheus finds out, he goes on this long, dangerous journey to the Underworld to find her. He gets there and plays his music for Hades, the song he’s been working on instead of getting food. Hades was so moved by his music that made a deal with him: if he can walk out of the Underworld with Eurydice following behind him, they can both go free.” You went on, smiling at Peters squished face.

“Sounds easy enough.” He shrugged.

“It wasn’t.” You held up a finger. “There was a catch. Orpheus was never allowed to look back and make sure Eurydice was still behind him. He just had to trust that she was. He wasn’t allowed to look at her until they were both out.”

“So what happened?” Peter leaned forward, eager to hear the rest.

“They walk the long, scary way back to earth, guided only by a lantern. Orpheus goes the whole way and never looks at her. But right as he’s about to make it out-“ ,You paused for effect and Peter whined in anticipation, “-he caves. He looks at her and she’s sent straight back.”

“He couldn’t do it? He couldn’t take that last step?” Peter exclaimed, frustrated with the ending.

“He couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You sided with Orpheus to defend him.

“But he was so close!” Peter whined, getting worked up over a fictional story.

“I know. That’s what makes the story as beautifully tragic as it is.” You told him.

“Orpheus was an idiot. You’re lucky she named you after Eurydice instead.” Peter grumbled and you laughed easily.

“He wasn’t an idiot. He could see the world for how it could be, in spite of the way that is was. He just couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You said softly, still taking Orpheus’s defense.

“I bet I could do it. I could’ve gotten us both out.” Peter said definitively after a beat of silence.

“Oh, yeah? You think you could be patient and trust your girl?” You challenged him.

“If I truly loved her, yes. I’d wait forever if I had too.” Peter said confidently. “Wouldn’t you?”

You thought about it for a moment, not blind to the irony of his question. You looked Peter deep in his warm brown eyes, the eyes of your best friend since you were little, and nodded.

“Yeah. I think I would.” You said softly.

1 month ago

“What about you? You haven’t move on?” A member of Cap’s support group sounded from beside you, tearing you away from the memory. You blinked as you came back to reality and saw the faces of the rest of the members looking at you expectantly, including Cap.

“Sorry?” You asked, not having heard the question when you were lost in your daydream.

“You mentioned in the first meeting that you lost your boyfriend in the Blip.” The member, a man who lost his wife and daughter, repeated. “Have you moved on from him yet?”

“No.” You said, sitting up and fixing your shirt. “No, I haven’t.”

“Why is that after five years of him being gone? You’re the only one in the group who hasn’t moved on.” He asked. He wasn’t being reproachful, just curious. You and Cap were the leaders of the group and watched each week as the members slowly got their lives back to normal after losing their significant other in the Blip. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were the only one who hadn’t moved on.

“Because I’ve already met the love of my life.” You said confidently. “I know it’s been 5 years. But I have already met the man I’m supposed to be with. Now I just have to wait for him to come come. He waited for me, and now I’m waiting for him.”

“He might not come for a long time, if he ever does.” A woman in the group spoke up. She wasn’t trying to be harsh, just realistic. You gave her a tight smile and nodded.

“I know.” You said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I’ll wait forever if I have too.”

The meeting ended shortly after a few more members told their stories. It was nearing the anniversary of the Blip, and everyone was on edge. You were quiet as you and Cap stacked the chairs up, obviously to his stare.

“What did you mean back there when you said he waited for you?” Steve asked gently as he pushed a row of chairs against the wall. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of how long it had gotten, and leaned against the row.

“It’s kinda a long story.” You told him. He took two chairs off the stack and set them down, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“I have time.” He remarked as he took a seat. You laughed lightly as his action and sat down, picking nervously at your nail polish.

“I met Peter when we were 3, and we were best friends almost instantly.” You began. “We learned how to ride bikes together, started school together, basically made all our foundational memories together.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded, urging you to go on.

“My dad did a lot of business in California when I was little and when he got promoted, he decided to move there. My parents didn’t tell me about the move until the day we were leaving. I was crying my eyes out in the taxi when we passed Peter’s apartment building.” You said, looking up at Steve to see his reaction. He was looking at you intently, having never heard you tell the story before. “I pressed my hands against the window of the taxi and stared at his building, totally heartbroken, until an idea came to me. Mind you, I was 7 at the time and had a love of action movies.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled coyly, knowing what was coming.

“I did.” You chuckled. “I jumped out of the moving car and just booked it. I didn’t stop running until I got to his door.”

15 years ago

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he opened his door to you. You had done your secret knock so he knew it was you.

“I have to go, Peter. I’m moving. My daddy got a new job.” You panted, out of breath from running. Peters eyes widened, hearing the world possible news of his short life.

“Moving? Where?” He asked, suddenly aware of your red eyes and running nose, all signs that you had been crying.

“California.” You told him.

“Like with the movie stars?” He asked, childlike excitement replacing the pain.

“Yeah. That’s what my daddy said.” You nodded, remembering what your dad had told you to keep you from crying. You had to leave your best friend, but you’d be with the movie stars.

“When are you leaving?” Peter asked, picking at the paint on his door.

“Today.” You finally caught your breath. “We’re going to the airport right now.”

“But…but I won’t get to see you if you’re in California.” Peter mumbled, starting to get emotional.

“I know. I don’t want to go, Peter.” You shook your head, beginning to cry again.

“Then don’t go.” Peter protested. “You can stay here with me. Aunt May and Uncle Ben won’t mind.“

“Okay. Okay, and then we can stay together.” You agreed, liking his plan.

“Y/n?” Are you up here?” You suddenly heard your mothers voice and your eyes widened, as well as Peters.

“Get inside.” Peter pulled you in his apartment and slammed the door behind you, reaching up on his tippy toes to lock the door. You both panted from the quick move, the sound of the phone ringing get drowned out by your heavy breathing.

“I don’t want to leave you, Peter. You’re my best friend.” You cried, bunching the end of your dress in your fists.

“You’re my best friend too.” Peter hiccuped as he cried. You wiped your cheek on the back of your hand and used the bottom of your dress to wipe his face too. He smiled at you, giving you that warm feeling he always did.

“Please don’t fall in love with anybody else.” You blurted. “Wait for me to come back.”

“What?” Peter hiccuped again.

“I’m gonna grow up and I’m gonna make my own money and I’m gonna find my way back to you. Or, or I’ll run away and get on an airplane.” You plotted as Peter nodded along. “I’m gonna come back for you, Peter. I will, I promise I will. You just need to wait until I get back so we can get married.”

“Peter? Is Y/n here?” Mays voice called from the kitchen, making you both jump. You hugged each other and backed away as May came into the room.

“Go away!” Peter screamed, fully in hysterics now.

“Y/n, sweetie, your mom is on the phone. She said you ran away from the taxi.” May said gently as she bent down to talk to you. She noticed your scrapped knee, bleeding now, but you didn’t even seem to notice.

“I’m not going. I’m not leaving Peter.” You stated, clinging to him tighter.

“What’s going on here?” Ben asked when he heard the noise. He saw his recently orphaned nephew clutching his best friend and immediately understood.

“I can’t go to California. I won’t! I won’t leave Peter.” You cried, gripping the back of Peters overalls for supports.

“Aw, honey.” May sighed in sympathy as she out a hand over her heart at the sight of the terrified children. “It’s okay. You and Peter can write each other letters and video chat. You’ll still be able to see each other.”

“No! She has to move in with us.” Peter shot down Mays idea. Her heart broke for her nephew, already having witnessed him lose so much. The flowers from his parents were still on the table. She couldn’t bear to see him lose his best friend too.

“She can’t Peter. She has to be with her own mommy and daddy.” May tried to reason with him.

“Why? I’m not with mine.” Peter protested, making May tear up. Before she could respond, your mother knocked on the door.

“May? Ben? Is Y/n with you?” Your mother asked through the door. You and Peter began to tremble as you clung to each other.

“No!” You screamed, cowering into the crook of Peters neck.

“Ben, can you settle them down?” May asked as she went to open the door. You and Peter tried to run but Ben caught you.

“Now listen you two, if you really love each other and I know you do, you’ll find your way back.” Ben said prophetically, making you and Peter release your grip a little. “I met your Aunt May once when I was 7, and again when I was 17. I believe in you two. I believe you’ll be reunited one day. But for right now, Y/n has to say goodbye.”

You slowly let go of Peter and turned to face him, tears streaming down your young face.

“Goodbye, Peter.” You mumbled, dry heaving from how upset you were. Your mother and May exchanged glances, not being able to watch their children say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Peter whimpered, wrapping his arms around you and giving you the tightest hug he could.

“Wait for me?” You whispered in his ear.

“I will.” He whispered back.

“Promise?” You asked as you pulled away.

“Promise.” Peter said as he crossed his heart. You did the same before your mother took your hand. You cried as she dragged you out of the apartment, looking back and reaching for Peter the entire way. You broke free from her for a moment and ran to Peter, kissing him on the lips like you’d seen the movies stars do. His eyes were wide open the entire time, but he liked it. Your mother scooped you up, said goodbye to May and Ben, and left the apartment. May and Ben stared at Peter as he touched his lips, still feeling your kiss. He sniffled, trying not to cry again as he watched his best friend leave him for the next ten years.

1 month ago.

“So, yeah. That was the first time he and I were separated. I don’t know which time was worse. They both killed me, just with different weapons. At least when we were 7, I was able to say goodbye.” You shrugged it off as you finished telling Steve your story. He stared at you in awe as you kept your composure. He had listened to a hundred songs stories about losing a loved one, but none of them had moved him like that did.

“How did you guys reconnect? Did you actually run away?” Steve asked, fully invested in the story now. You chuckled softly as his keen memory.

“No. I tried to but I never got very far.” You told him. “I ended up moving back to New York for college. My friend and I rented an apartment instead of living on campus.”

6 years ago.

“Shoot. I’ll meet you up there. I forgot a bag in the lobby.” Your roommate sighed when she realized she was missing her carry on.

“Okay. Text me when you get it.” You told her. Instead of getting on the elevator, you decided to stretch your legs and take the stairs. You had lugged your suitcase up a long flight and were about to round the corner when you smacked into someone. You almost went flying down the stairs, but something grabbed your shirt, something you’d later find out was a web, and sent you in the other direction. You collided with the stranger, feeling their firm grasp around your waist to keep you from falling back. You both panted as you caught your breath, feeling the strangers breath fam your face.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking and-Y/n?” The man asked. You blinked a few times as you stared at his face until you realized you knew those brown eyes.

“Oh my God, Peter?” You whispered as your eyes scanned his face, memorizing every new line and crease. His eyes were just as wide as yours, studying your features right back. An unfamiliar feeling filled your tummy as you stared at your childhood best friend, now fully grown. You couldn’t find the words to express how you were feeling, so you let go of your suitcase and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter hugged you back immediately, taking in your scent. You were wearing perfume, something you hadn’t done when you were seven, but his super scent allowed him to smell your usual smell underneath it. Hugging you now felt different than it had when you were younger. His arms were wrapped around your hips, something you definitely didn’t have before. Your forever messy hair was longer and neat for once, as he was always used to seeing it in two braids. He could’ve cried holding you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. You pulled away and cupped his cheeks, smiling at what you saw.

“You look exactly the same.” You let out a breathy laugh. He did. He still had the boyish features you loved. The only difference now was he was taller and incredibly fit.

“Is that a good thing?” He chuckled, pleased to see your smile was just as he remembered.

“It’s the best thing.” You nodded, looking him up and down. “I can’t believe you never grew into your ears.”

“And you! You finally learned to brush your hair.” He dished it right back and you realized how much you missed his sense of humor, even better now with age.

“Shut up.” You scrunched your nose and smoothed your hand down with your hair. “What are you doing here? Did you move?”

“You remember my old place?” He raised his eyebrows, suddenly aware that his was still holding on to you. It didn’t seem to bother you, so he didn’t move.

“Uhh, Lee Towers apartment building, room 4D with the little flower sign under the peephole.” You recited, the view of his apartment door forever engraved in your no memory. The door always looked so big when you went from your height. “How could I forget? I practically lived there.”

“I know you did.” Peter smiled brightly at the memory of all your days spent in his apartment, the apartment he said goodbye too once Ben died. “May and I moved here a few months after high school started for a fresh start.”

“And I just moved here for college.” You said, mostly to yourself as the wheels in your Brian turned. You looked at Peter fondly and a smile tugged at your lips. “Your Uncle was right.”

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows as you his face flushed from your close proximity.

“We found our way back to each other.” You said softly, your breath ticking his face.

“Yeah. I guess we did.” He bit back a smile, still reeling that he had you back in his arms after 10 years.

“Come on. You can tell me everything that’s happened for the past ten years while you help me unpack.” You grabbed his suitcase with one hand and his arm with the other. “But first, I gotta see May.”

1 month ago

“We talked the entire day. The sun started coming up and I was still telling him stories.” You smiled to yourself as you remembered the reunion. “We bounced back so easily, I felt like I had never left.”

“When two people are that right for each other, time has no effect. I speak from experience.” Steve smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“I know you do, lover boy.” You teased him. “I’ve seen your lady. She’s absolutely gorgeous.” You commented, having seen the photo of Peggy he kept on him more than a few times.

“She was.” He agreed. “And I found her just as pretty as an old broad as I did when we first met. Time meant nothing to me.”

“See? Sometimes, moving on is the wrong way to go. Some people are worth waiting for.” You decided, happy to have someone who agreed with you.

“So what happened next? Did you guys fall in love right away?” Steve asked, curious in the ending.

“No. It took about 3 months for us to finally bring up that conversation from before I left. We focused on rebuilding our friendship first.” You explained.

“I tell ya, I haven’t been this invested in a story since my presumedly dead best friend from the war showed up with a metal arm and a bloodlust.” Steve chuckled. “Keep going. How did you get together?”

“Relax. I’ll tell you.” You chuckled easily. “He and I had just got home from a college party. There was drinking, but Peter and I stayed away from that. A boy in our biology class, however, did not. He was flirting with me a little too much for Peters liking. I didn’t flirt back, but that didn’t matter to Peter. Another boy was after me and he got upset.”

5 years ago

“Whew. I don’t know about you, but think I’ve hit my party limit for the next month.” You blew out a breath as you kicked your heels off into the corner of Peters rooms

“No, me too.” Peter agreed, admiring the way you looked in your party dress one last time before you changed out of it. You shut the door to his bathroom but left it slightly ajar as you changed behind it. Peter made sure not to look, happy that you couldn’t see the flush on his face. You emerged from the bathroom in a hoodie and sleep shorts, taking a seat on Peters bed.

“You’re quiet.” You poked him, tilted your head to meet his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head and took your feet into his lap to rub them, knowing they were aching from your high heels. “Did you uh, get Brads number?”

“He told me his number but there were letters and some movie titles in it, so I’d say no.” You laughed, wincing a little when he touched a sore spot.

“He was all over you.” Peter grumbled, moving your feet next to his lap so he could trace small patterns on your leg.

“He was also drunk on 5 Black Cherry White Claws and wearing his belt on his head.” You reminded him in an attempt to cheer him up. He was clearly upset over something, you could tell by the way he wouldn’t look at you.

“He’s on the soccer team.” Peter brought up and you looked at him strangely. “I heard he gets good grade too.”

“Are you trying to set us up or something?” You laughed him off as you pulled your knees up to your chest to lean your chin on them.

“No. No, I just…” ,he sighed, “do you like him? In that way, I mean?”

“Peter, I don’t even know him.” You dismissed the idea. “Plus, he made a total fool of himself tonight. He threw any chance he had with me away the second he opened his mouth to show me his Viking impression.”

“Do you like anyone else, then?” He asked with a shrug, slowly looking up at you.

“Why are you asking me this?” You asked him curiously. You never talked about things like this together, lest it lead to a conversation neither of you were ready for.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” Peter admitted, looking down at his hands nervously. “Do…do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before you left, I mean.”

“When I asked you to wait for me?” You laughed softly, noticing the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah, that.” He gulped.

“Of course I do.” You shrugged like to were not big deal, even though it was the biggest deal to Peter. “To this day, that’s the boldest thing I’ve ever done. Kissing you and then running away? I pulled a real Cinderella on you that night.”

“I thought it was sweet.” Peter defended, slightly offended that you were taking the situation as lightly as you were.

“It was stupid. We were kids and we had no idea when we were gonna see each other again. At the time, I had no idea how unrealistic I was being, or how much I was asking of you. Didn’t I propose to you or something?” You cringed at the memory. Peter stared at you in shock, angry that you were making fun of one of the most momentous moments of his childhood.

“I didn’t think you were asking for that much.” He said assertively. “Nothing I wasn’t planning on doing anyway.”

“What were you planning on doing?” You asked, finally noticing how upset he was.

“Waiting for my best friend to come back so I could be with her.” Peter said, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to compose himself. “Marry her, even.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully, but he didn’t let up. Your smile faded when you realized he was serious.

“Why are you making this a joke?” Peter asked bitterly. “Do you know how hard that day was for me?”

“Do I know how hard it was?” You repeated in shock. “Peter, I had to leave my home and get on a plane to live in an entirely new state that I had never been to before, all with no warning. My mother had to rip me out of your grasp while I kicked and screamed. I know exactly how hard that day was.”

You turned away from Peter and folded your arms, glaring at his wall while hot tears streamed down your face. You had been trying to avoid this conversation in fear of how it would go. Fear he didn’t wait after all when you had turned down every boy who approached you in the past ten years because they didn’t amount to Peter. The fears were feeling very real in the moment and it overwhelmed you.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked quietly. You looked at him over your shoulder and saw that he was crying too.

“Something inside me just told me I had to.” You shrugged slightly. “I had to give you something to make sure you wouldn’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you.” Peter said assuredly. “You don’t forget your first love.”

“I guess you don’t, do you?” You smiled softly and wiped your tears on your hoodie sleeve. “I loved you before I knew the meaning of the word. But I didn’t really need the meaning, looking back. The feeling was enough. Feelings for you.” You looked at him shyly. “Feelings that told me I needed to kiss you before I lost the chance. I guess that’s what happens when you’re 7 and in love with your best friend.”

“Well, I’m 18 and in love with my best friend. What happens then?” Peter declared, tired of beating around the bush. You turned to him and tugged your sleeves over your hands.

“Peter, what?” You whispered.

“That kiss you gave me was my first kiss.” He admitted.

“Mine too.” You said simply.

“It was also my last kiss.” He continued. You opened your mouth and shut it, taking on the weight of what he was saying.

“Mine too.” You breathed. You and Peter stared at each other, looking at the face of the best friend you’d fallen in love with, the one you’d always been in love with. You swallowed as you prepared to ask Peter the answer to a question you asked him when you were 7. “Did you-“

Peter cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, holding your face in place with his hands. You put your hand on the back of his neck and kissed him back, feeling a tear fall down your cheek as all your fears dissipated. Peter pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” He mumbled against your lips. “I waited.”

1 month ago

“That’s how it started. We were only together about 9 months before he disappeared.” You told Steve. “You know, I still go home every night and hope he knocks on my door. I always expect him to burst through the door, his flannel flowing behind him like a cape and just pick me up and kiss me. He’d thank me for waiting and I’d tell him it was nothing, that I was happy to do it, because he was worth it.”

“You know, I used to think you were stubborn. But I get it now.” Steve looked at you fondly. “That’s a love worth waiting your entire life for. What I don’t understand is how you sat in that chair for 5 years and never told us that story. Why wouldn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s ours, and it’s all I have left of him.” You smiled sadly. “I don’t want to share it and make people sad, because it’s not a sad story. To me, it’s the greatest love story of all time.”

“We’re gonna get them back. One way or another, we’re gonna fix this. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you guys.” Steve said definitively.

“Why?” You asked him.

“Because I don’t want your story to end like that. You’re 23. I can’t sit back and watch you sit on the bench for the rest of your life, waiting for somebody to come home. I’m gonna bring him home. All of them.” Steve declared.

“How?” You asked. It had been 5 years already and no progress was made to get them back.

“I have a friend I need to talk to. You’re coming with me. Come on.” He stood up and held his hand out. You looked him up and down before smirking and taking his hand.

Present Day

Since you helped bring the Avengers together to set the Time Heist in motion, Tony decided it was only fair to let you help out in the final battle with Thanos. He leant you an Iron suit that you were currently using against a slew of space dogs. The more you fought off, the more came to attack you. It didn’t help that your heart was beating out of your chest knowing that Peter was somewhere on the battle field. You didn’t know how long you had been fighting, but your arms ached with every movement. You sucked in a sharp breath as a space dog lunged at your uncovered face.

You were about to cover your face when you felt something attach to your suit from the back. Before you could react, you felt a tug and flew through the air. You landed in somebody’s arms and saw the battlefield upside down as they dipped you, just like in the movies. They brought you back up and you were suddenly face to face with Peter Parker.

“Is my damsel in distress?” His Queens accent filled your ears as your eyes fell on his smirk.

“Peter?” You said breathlessly, eyes filling with tears at the sight of your boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years.

“I think so, unless my dust particles reconfigured into Zooey Dechannel.” Peter said sarcastically, making you erupt in laughter as the tears fell down your face.

“Peter!” You squealed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His new metal suit made it different, so you restarted to running your hands through his hair, trying to touch any part of his skin that you could reach. In the distance, Steve saw the two of you embracing and smiled to himself.

“Hi.” He laughed in your ear, appreciating all the affection. In his mind, he had seen you just a few hours ago. He didn’t register how much this meant to you. You buried your face in his neck and took in his scent.

“You smell like a new car.” You laughed in happy surprise, looking him up and down to take in his appearance. He looked exactly as you remembered, every freckle and hair in the same place.

“It’s the suit. Mr. Stark made it for me.” Peter said excitedly.

“Its beautiful.” You breathed, not taking your eyes off his face.

“Thank you! I haven’t actually seen it yet but it feels really cool.” Peter said as he looked at his hands. He was obviously to the moonstruck look you were giving him, just happy to be near him. “Mr. Stark got really mad at me because I snuck on the spaceship after he specifically told me not to sneak on the spaceship but it was a good thing because I helped get rid of the bad guys using the technique we saw in Alien.”

“Wow.” You nodded, just happy to be hearing his voice again.

“And the bad guy was like this half squid, half person who spoke with a British accent even though he’s from space.” Peter went on, childlike excitement filling in the brown eyes you’d been missing for the past 5 years. “Y/n, I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but I’m pretty sure there’s a second Britain in space that we don’t know about.”

“Really?” You humored him, tears of happiness still rolling down your face.

“It was so cool, Y/n. Until I died, anyway.” He laughed. “I wish you could’ve been there.”

“I wish that too.” You cried. “I’ve really missed you, Peter.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiled brightly. Your lip began to tremble at how I overwhelmed you were and Peters protective boyfriend instincts took over.

“Hey.” He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up. “Listen, I know it’s been five years for you and I’m a fool to even ask. But, by any chance, did you-“

You put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. The feeling of his lips on yours after all those years triggered a waterfall of tears to flow. You wrapped both arms around his neck as he held your waist firmly against his, kissing you as hard as he could. You sobbed into the kiss before pulling away, peppering kisses all around his mouth and jaw.

“Yes.” You smiled as he wiped away your tears. “I waited.”

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

I neeeeeeeed more Hades and Persephone with their darling! Maybe a continuation of the last one, but it’s Hades’ turn with darling?

He’d have to steal his Darling away for that, wouldn’t he? Persephone is far from a demanding captor, but with how on-edge she is around Hades, it’s not hard to believe she’d be hesitant to leave the two of you alone. She deserves to be paranoid, at least.

Part One.

TW: Minor Acts of Violence, Past Kidnapping, Current Captivity, Emotional Manipulation, and Mentions of Starvation.

Hades’ garden was the only place in the Underworld with sunlight.

Well, ‘sunlight’ might’ve been the wrong word for it. There was no sun, no sky, no heat - there couldn’t be, not this far underground. But, there were slivers in the ground where rays of light spilled in, flowing down like sparkling streams of water and bouncing off of gemstones and smooth stone until the barest hints of their radiance reached the plot of land designated to buds that bloomed into thorns rather than petals, trees that’d bleed magma rather than sap, fruits of the dead that’d dye your fingertips red for days, even if you didn’t dare to pluck them off their stems. You couldn’t see it, but if you sat on the stone and closed your eyes, you could feel it, you could imagine the ghost of its warmth on your cold, frozen skin. You savored the garden. You relished the garden. You loved the garden, as much as you could love any part of your gilded cage.

You just wished you could enjoy it alone, for once.

Hades was like a shadow. Persephone was easily dissuaded when you expressed an interest in venturing beyond the confines of her palace, but Hades was an aura, a chill, a pair of eyes you couldn’t shake or stop from prying into your skin more painstakingly than any dagger ever could. This was his domain, his kingdom, and yet, away from his throne and his crown and his mistress, he seemed more like one of the spirits he ruled over than a god cast off of Olympus. You’d long-since come to terms with it, hiding yourself away and holding your breath, limiting your movements, being as quiet and as still as possible in hopes of coaxing him out, as a hunter would for a timid fawn. Some days, it took a few minutes and others, a few hours. Today, he must’ve been feeling confident. Your lungs had only begun to ache by the time he gathered the courage to show himself.

You kept your attention centered on the flower in front of you, as he approached. A translucent rose, jagged shards of glass curling around a crystalline core and emerging from a base of emerald, the edge of each petal just starting to blacken and wilt. A thought played on your tongue as Hades came to a stop at your side, as he muttered an affectionate greeting under his breath. You meant to return the gesture, intent on keeping your relationship with your captors as civil as it had to be, but you were already asking before you could stop yourself, posing a question you weren’t sure you’d like the answer to. “Will it die?”

That seemed to catch Hades off-guard. He hesitated before he answered, his hands twitching where they were folded behind his back as he fought the urge to scan over you. You were almost thankful he was the more concerned of the two. Persephone would’ve clicked her tongue, pulled you into her side, and told you that they would, but that you also shouldn’t ask after such morbid things. At least Hades wasn’t so patronizing. “They will,” He confirmed, finally, his tone steady. “Eventually. They last longer than plants in the mortal realm, but I made them to be living things.” A pause, a bite to the inside of his cheek. “That comes with a certain set of requirements, unfortunately.”

You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d had to step over half a dozen shattered flowers just to get to this part of the garden, and you knew he wouldn’t design something that went against the law of nature he worked so tirelessly to uphold. “I’m a living thing,” You mumbled, the words barely audible. “Does that mean I’ll have to conform to your requirements, one day?”

Hades didn’t see fit to answer, this time. “You haven’t been eating.”

Technically, you haven’t eaten at all, not since you’re arrival. Hades had tried his hand at locking you in your room, raising his voice, making threats of what would happen if you didn’t take your meals with gratitude, and Persephone had gone on about how torturous hunger could be for an hour or two before growing frustrated and leaving you to wallow in your pain, but neither seemed to understand the notion that you’d much rather face the pangs and the aches and the weaknesses that came with starvation than accept the fact that you’d be thoroughly, completely, utterly trapped here for the rest of your now-eternal life. Among the dead, you had no appetite, no desire, no will. Not when the consequences of submission were so unignorable.

You wanted to stay warm far more than you wanted to make them happy.

You must’ve been silent for a moment too long. For the first time, Hades let out a sigh, the man shaking his head as he turned to face you. His lips were barely turned downward, his brow furrowed in something more akin to irritation than rage, but it was the angriest you’d seen him, the angriest at you he’d ever been. “There’s no point in putting it off.” He didn’t make excuses, didn’t make it sound like submitting would do you any good, but that almost made it worse. Unlike Persephone, he knew he was in the wrong. Unlike Persephone, he didn’t try to make it sound like he thought he wasn’t. “You’re here because there are two people in the Underworld who love you more than anyone in the mortal realm ever could. By behaving like this, you’re not just hurting yourself, you’re hurting us. That’s not the kind of action you should be able to take without guilt.”

“Because my pain is the only kind that doesn’t matter,” You replied, tearing your eyes away from Hades and forcing yourself to direct your glare at the ground, at the dull, shriveled jewels that littered the ground because he wasn’t kind enough to share his immortality with the creatures who needed it. You hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t prayed for it, or begged it, or needed it, as much as he’d like to pretend you did. You hadn’t wanted it, and you refused to act as if you had. “You might love me, but I don’t love you. As soon as I get my chance to leave, I don’t plan on sacrificing it for a slice of a pomegranate. If that hurts you, then maybe you should be--”

He didn’t hit you, he didn’t lash out, but he didn’t have to. The iron-clad, ice cold fingers soon wrapped around your wrist were enough to stop you, enough to remind you that Persephone wasn’t the only deity you had to be afraid of, here. Reflexively, you snapped toward him, but you couldn’t help but shrink into yourself as soon as your eyes met his, grey and metallic and so, so wrathful. “I don’t want to hear a word of what you just said get back to Persephone,” He growled, his grip tightening, his nails biting into your skin drawing fresh, hot blood. If he noticed, though, he didn’t care, only pulling you forward as he went on. “There won’t be a second warning. If you dare to say something so careless to my wife, it’ll be her mercy you’ll have to rely on. I can guarantee you mine will be out of your reach, by then.”

He let you go, scowling as you pulled your injured arm to your chest, not caring how the pooling blood might stain your clothes. You could only nod and avert your stare, your throat dry and your mind so blank, you almost forgot you’d ever thought you were capable of thought.

All you knew was that, quite suddenly, the garden felt just as frigid as the rest of the Underworld.

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themsource · 3 years

Text

A Moment Of Time

Pairing: Sans x Frisk Rating: T Word Count: 2,673

Hey @catsitta I was your secret santa for @secretsantafrans! I love your Fated AU so please excuse any cannon inconsistences if I made any @_@ I had fun mixing holiday themes for this; Kronia and Haloa specifically!

Hope you enjoy ^^

Lord Death’s realm; usually so quiet and haunting, was unusually loud with the cries of celebration and joy. Golden light bathed the immense hall, the fires and torches giving such a grand view of the heavily decorated scaffoldings and food laden tables casting a supernatural warmth supplied by none other than Lord Fyre, for the evening's festivities.

Rarely was there cause for such lavish displays of black marbled fountains overflowing with fine wine, even rarer a reason for heavenly grown ambrosia to grace such a place as the Underworld with it’s desolate landscape and often gloomy atmosphere, but this was a day rare in itself.

Today marked the winter solstice; the time of year that many a mortal and god alike abandoned their divisions and classes that usually separated them from others of lower status as a show of civility and gratitude for one another.

And Death the youngest favored the holiday, in fact he was its greatest fan and celebrated it every year. Which was a surprise to the Goddess Spring given her dear husband’s solitary nature and not so subtle irritation at large gatherings. Let it be said that Sans denied Papyrus very little, and let him want for nothing.

An admirable trait in her spouse.

“My lady are you not enjoying the wine?” Frisk blinked free of her thoughts and spared a glance at her goblet, sitting wholly untouched and turning bitter the longer she ignored it and allowed it to spoil.

A longstanding tradition on this day was that women alone were allowed to drink of the spirits and indulge in the fresh aged fruits of the last harvest, a tradition she always enjoyed, but now served as nothing but a reminder of lost youth and unwanted vows.

Frisk was gradually coming to accept the chains that tied her to her husband, and deeply appreciated the way in which he treated her as not only an adult, but as a partner, an equal. However it did little to ease the sadness she felt at times such as these, reminding her of the choices she’d unwittingly made that hadn’t truly been choices at all.

This year she wouldn’t be dancing among the snow of the surface, nor would she sit gossiping with her mother and her wood nymphs about plans for future growth and vegetation. Where once she used to greet the time of year with enthusiasm and eagerness, now sat nothing but a rock hard pit in her stomach that even Ambrosia couldn’t fill.

She felt out of place, and just a little bit lonely.

“Forgive me, but my stomach is not quite right tonight.” She forced a smile, small and fragile, but still genuine as she looked to her handmaiden. “Tonight I am not your lady, we are as equals, did you forget?”

Daisy smiled as she took the opportunity and reached down to take the neglected drink, boldly taking a sip from it before offering Frisk a warm smile. “No matter the time or day you will always be my lady. As long as you’ll have me.”

Frisk chuckled before looking out to the crowd, her golden eyes skimming the dancers supplied by Mother Night as she caught the sight of Lord Fyre in hushed whispers with a fair skinned and golden haired Underworld denizen.

Vaguely she tried to recall all the fallen heroes she’d been told would be allowed to attend but no name came to mind, maybe they were a member of the Asphodel Meadows?

“I take it Iris and Hyacinth are enjoying themselves?” She asked absently just as her eyes spotted her husband standing beside the hearth speaking with his brother.

As if he could feel her gaze like a touch he subtly shifted his fathomless sockets to meet her.

Quickly Frisk averted her eyes with a grimace, and not so quiet skip of her heart. How he could draw such a reaction from her when she could just barely tolerate his presence she’d never know, and even as she watched Daisy blush, her flames tinting a slight shade darker, she swore she could still feel him watching her.

Sans’s gaze always unsettled her, just as much as it drew her in like a vortex.

“Iris is currently in the kitchens, and Hyacinth, is showing Lord Cadmus around.” The way Daisy said his name was enough to make Frisk stare at her in shock. Cadmus, the hero of letters, how fitting given Hyacinth’s nature. Though it was still the last thing she’d expected of the elemental.

“I see…” Even her handmaidens dreamed of love she supposed, something she’d never really given much thought to. Was that one of the reasons behind their constant push for her to get close to Sans? “Well I hope she enjoys herself.”

Daisy offered a timid grin. “Are you sure it’s only your stomach that ails you tonight?”

Frisk dismissed her worry with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry Daisy, go have fun, you fuss over me enough every day as is.”

Reluctantly the young fiery girl nodded and did as Frisk suggested, but not without offering a backward glance that the goddess waved off with a teasing smile. Slowly she let her hand drop and went back to looking out over the crowd.

She felt like such a stick in the mud, truly not an attitude befitting of a queen.

Gracefully as she could, and still doing her best to ignore San’s continuously lingering stare, she skirted the side of the hall and slipped away behind a gathered group of souls. She didn’t stop holding her breath or head high until she’d safely made it back to her room, where she finally let her shoulders sag and sighed from sudden exhaustion.

Papyrus might not be too pleased at her absence, but it was better than sitting in place all night frowning and pouting like a child. Frisk had gone to such lengths to show her mother and the other gods she was worthy of her title, she refused to spoil it all in one evening.

More than halfway across her room she froze, her eyes going wide in disbelief, as they caught on a small object resting in the center of her bed.

Had someone been in her room?

Frisk’s heart anxiously fluttered in her chest as she debated on returning to the party or taking another step further into her room. Never before now had she noticed just how thick the curtains were that adorned her windows, or just how dark the corners of her chamber were where the miniscule candle light didn’t reach.

Cautiously she inched forward, the ichor in her veins pounding like a drum as she shakily reached for it with all the control of a quivering branch.

It fit perfectly in her hand, its texture like that of smooth glass with a coolness that sent a chill up to her shoulder. He guard dropped as she slowly raised it to eye level and turned it this way and that. It looked like a flat and rounded piece of polished obsidian, with golden leaf decorating it’s edges in swirling floral designs.

A mirror, designed to be easily concealed and for discrete use.

She frowned.

Honestly Frisk wasn’t one to fret over her appearance, she never had been, always preferring wild and tangled hair with robes slightly worn at the fringes from hours spent in the dirt or walking. The only ones that showed any care to her looks were her caretakers and, on a less comfortable note, her husband.

She turned it twice over, as if the name of the person who had left this would magically appear if she simply kept looking, and nearly dropped it as the surface brightened, turning white hot and blinding.

Just as quickly as it happened it dimmed, and in its place was an image, crystal clear and moving.

Frisk gasped as she recognized one of the flower fields in which she used to play, now blanketed in freshly fallen snow, the picture of her mother standing silent and stoic as she looked out over the winter landscape.

It was a looking glass! A magical item so very rare that only three gods she knew of had one, and none of them this small or intricately decorated. Whoever this was from had obviously put a lot of considerable effort into having it made.

“does my lady wife like her gift?”

She hadn’t expected his presence with the celebrations currently going on, but honestly she should have. Sans always had the habit of suddenly appearing from around corners or showing up spontaneously.

Frisk spun on her heel, her hand quickly darting up to brush away the tears beading in her eyes as they widened at seeing her husband standing just within the dark shadows of the doorway.

At this point in their relationship she’d grown accustomed to his comings and goings. The only thing she never understood behind the actions was if it was done simply because he liked to use his name and title as the lord of death to unnerve others and to demonstrate the power he held, or if it was merely a fleeting moment of whimsy for a cheap thrill.

One thing that always irritated her to no end though, was that he enjoyed targeting her the most.

Such as now; with an embarrassed flush on her cheeks and a jolt of shame running down her spine as she struggled to hide the very emotion she so blatantly wore. Gifts between spouses was a tradition, but she hadn’t given any thought to it. She didn’t think for a moment her lord husband would be partial to the tradition.

Frisk should have known better given how their whole relationship had even started.

“I...am afraid I did not prepare anything for you in turn.”

His gaze, always so penetrating and watchful, dropped from her face to the looking glass she clutched to her chest, not missing the subtle way her knuckles whitened as she subconsciously tightened her hold on it.

As if he’d try to steal it away from her.

Sans’s smile widened. “what more gift could a husband want than the company of his wife?”

Her face stung as it turned red, and her voice came out uncertain, higher in pitch, as she stared at him. “I trust you mean platonically?”

“I have the desires of any man, for his bride, and while i wouldn’t turn away such an offer...”

She tensed as his sockets did a slow, calculated roll of her form before flickering back up to her face, the gesture causing her heart to skip for the second time that night. “in this instance my intentions are entirely innocent.” He chuckled.

Frisk watched as he held a hand out in offer, his phalanges slightly curling as if beckoning her to him with a still ever present grin. It would be so easy, in another time and place, for Frisk to have believed the innocence behind his smile. But he always wore it, when amused, irritated, and when being cruel as Death often had to be.

It made it so hard to understand him.

Casually she slipped the now darkened looking glass within her robes and tried her best to keep her expression unreadable as she placed her hand in his, the icy touch of his bones draining the warmth from her, but never able to steal it all completely.

The edges of his smile seemed to soften as he glanced down.

It did something to her to see that. He acted so touch starved, so easily awed every time they had the briefest of contact.

They both stood there in silence, his thumb slowly running circles into the back of her hand the longer he held it. She sucked in a breath at the shiver it sent up her spine but dared an uncertain look up at him.

“Are we not going somewhere?”

His subtle movement stopped but he didn’t look away from where they stayed joined.

“is there somewhere you wish to go?”

She didn’t respond, and he took that as an answer. He gave one more slow, deliberate, stroke of his thumb before finally releasing her. If Frisk didn’t know better she’d have thought she’d heard a small sigh from him.

And then she finally noticed the faint blush on his cheeks.

“...Sans?”

“hmm?”

“Have you been drinking?”

He looked her in the eye as his grin hitched higher. “whatever gave that impression?”

Frisk narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, the faint blush darkening as she stared him down and cultivated one on her own cheeks. She hadn’t noticed just how cute his magic could sometimes manifest itself, just how it left a vague ethereal glow that bathed the inside of his normally obscure hood.

“Sans…only women are supposed to drink today.”

His sockets lidded. “from what i could see earlier in the night, you weren’t in the mood, and it would’ve been rude to waste wine provided by asgore himself.”

She knew he was using a poor excuse, but it was enough of one it lit a flicker of embarrassment in her. Frisk stubbornly focused on one of the gold medallions that held up his cloak to avoid eye contact.

“You just wanted to drink.”

“can you fault me? it was my favorite after all.” She glared at his cheeky smirk. “pomegranate.”

“...”

“...If only divorce was an option.”

Sans’s sockets widened and then he let out such a deep, bass heavy, laugh Frisk openly gawked at him. It took a moment for him to compose himself but once he had his voice was filled with mirth.

“sadly it isn’t. i would only welcome the challenge to make you mine yet again, if i could.”

She couldn’t think of a response to that, not one that wasn’t insulting at least, and really she didn’t feel like trying to argue with the thick skulled god before her, it would be pointless, Sans never backed down when it came to a play on words.

Silence stretched before he spoke again.

“i should be getting back to the celebration, gillby wanted to talk to me regarding a trade of some sort.”

Frisk suddenly felt a pang that made her grimace. She hadn’t realized she’d actually been enjoying the company. Maybe it was because they rarely spoke, or maybe she was just that emotionally vulnerable tonight, but her words were hesitant and honest.

“I understand...I enjoyed this. The casual conversation.”

Her husband tilted his head.

“i should be thanking you, this was just the break i needed from the crowd.”

Despite herself she chuckled. “Of course, why would I ever assume you asked for my company purely for it alone?”

He went silent, the brim of his hood covering his sockets as his tone came out blunt. “if this wasn’t what i desired i wouldn’t have asked for this when you offered me a gift in turn.”

How did he keep doing that? Slipping behind her walls so easily with honeyed words after repeatedly testing their strength with his indifference and often selfish actions? He barely ever tried but it was always enough to make her question her stance on him.

“You’d better hurry back, I don’t think Grillby will be sober enough to remember his reasons if you don’t.” She whispered.

Sans gave a small bow, his hand swiftly cupping hers and bringing it to his teeth for a kiss. When he stood her hand was still lifted, frozen in place by confusion and surprise.

“i bid thee goodnight, happy solstice my queen.”

He vanished.

Frisk opened and closed her mouth dumbly, an almost plea for him to stay forever trapped on the tip of her tongue. She stared at where her husband had stood and slowly pulled out her looking glass.

Her first Solstice in the Underworld hadn’t gone well as it could’ve been, but it was still memorable.

#frans #adult frans #sans x frisk #fransmas 2020 #secret santa 2020 #fated au #comfort?#longing #i'm with shay i just want the chus already lol #fanfic #undertale #alternate universe #fluff #yep beauty and the beasty feels #i couldn't resist

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