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superrobotmonkeyteamramblingsgo · 5 years ago

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A Defining Moment

Summary: A hero wants to know what is threatening his home and friends. An alchemist wants to have a chance to help. And a Veron Mystic just wants one moment to share her burden with another. But the road to hell, and the Skeleton King, are paved with good intentions A/N: Some backstory for my OC’s Pheena and Flora, as well as showing my theories about how having an eldritch abomination seal in its core would affect Shuggazoom. Also, here is an explanation for why its ‘Sparks’ here when I normally write it as ‘Sprx’ elsewhere.

Captain Shuggazoom may have left all matters scientific, magical, and otherworldly to his friends, but that didn’t mean he was stupid. He did have a city to protect, and more often than not that was on his own. Sure it was always great when his friends were able to pitch in, and the Alchemist’s inventions were always a boon, but a tool could only get you so far. He had to rely on his wits, instinct, and experience to make the most out of his friend’s help.

And then there was his life as Clayton Carrington, where he had to use his smarts to appear as dumb as he did. It was a balancing act, playing the part of airhead playboy while also subtly manipulating his handlers so that his family’s company and wealth were being used how he wanted them to. He had long since learned how to anticipate people’s behaviors, and how to act so that they would react in the way he wanted. It may not be like the volumes of facts and physics and what not Pheena and the Alchemist knew, but it was intelligence all the same and the price he paid for ensuring that Captain Shuggazoom stayed as far away from Clayton Carrington as possible.

But it meant that he knew how to read people. And pattern recognition was an important skin in both sides of his life.

He observed and these were the facts that didn’t escape his notice: Delpheena just so happened to get leave from the Varon Mystics at the same time as a monster attack. But it wasn’t a normal monster attack, the result of his enemy releasing some beast on the city to accomplish their goals. Because if that was the case, the monsters would be targeting the city. Instead, these beasts always focused on someplace away from the city. It was places like desolated quarries that weren’t even used for mining anymore, an island out in the middle of nowhere that was barren save a ring of stone pillars, and a temple hidden among the jungle the Alchemist also lived in.

That one was literally too close to the Alchemist’s base for comfort. Attacks on the city were on thing, because more often than not Clayton Carrington was there and could easily slip out for Captain Shuggazoom to appear. But even at his fastest, it still took him a while to get to the Alchemist’s. Sure, his friend was a great wielder of magic and machines, but he also had a troop of baby monkeys to look after as well, not to mention whatever else was lurking in the Shuggazoom-forshaken foliage.

Something was going on, and it may not be threatening his city directly, but it was threatening his friends and that was enough for him.

Especially when they didn’t even become aware of the beast until they discovered Pheena was missing, and when the Alchemist was able to track her down, there was the beast, with her glowing green sword through its heart.

She had greeted them like it was any other time, like it was routine to meet each other among the corpse of a slain beast. Or she tried, but it was hard to ignore the surrounding, the dark sludges dusting her uniform, or even how tired she was behind the façade of normalcy she tried to maintain.

He didn’t say anything, allowing his thoughts to stew as she babbled (with more effort and pauses to catch her breath than normal) about whatever caught her fancy, the Alchemist occasionally chipping in with his two cents so there would be some semblance of a conversation

Because here it was again, the way she tried to downplay it and wave it off as nothing to worry about, only to try way too hard. She only seem to genuinely relax once they were back to the Alchemist’s lab and she was playing with his troop of monkeys.

He leaned against a wall, just watching how genuine her smile became and some of the exhaustion left her shoulders as she let them crawl and climb over her. Even Mandarin, the oldest who usually preferred to hang back and observe, approached her as he and Antauri played with the draped edge of her cloak. She especially perked up when Flora, the smallest and youngest of them, woke up and wanted to be cuddled by her.

Maybe that was why he finally felt time was right to speak.

“Sucks how your leave is always interrupted by monster attacks.”

“Yeah, my luck has just been so bad lately. I don’t know why I’ve been so unlucky, but at least I have my good luck charm here” Sparks chirped in response, and she giggled. “Isn’t that right, Lucky?”” She giggles as she takes Spark’s hands into her own and shakes them in rhythm with her chant. “Lucky, lucky monkey, good luck charm!”

Sparks squealed in delights with her, and from her lap Flora chirped and reached her hands out to their clasped ones.

She use to do something similar with her siblings, way back when they were kids. Whenever she was babysitting them and a serious issue came up, she would quickly change the subject with a silly song or joke or some other distraction. Anything to distract from the things she didn’t want them to think about.

That was fine when she was babysitting her siblings, but not now as adults. Pheena was a year older than him and the Alchemist and never let them catch up to her. When they were kids, a year meant so much more and did make things different for her. She was the first to double digits, new schools, and graduations. She was even the first to leave Shuggazoom when that Master Zan recruited her into the Varon Mystics. But as they aged and that year became more negligible, she still refused to let them close the gulf. He and the Alchemist had caught up to her, but she never let them in.

“Well, I’ve been getting pretty lucky myself lately,” At that, she turned to him to stare enough that he caught what he just implied. “Get your mind out of gutter, I mean that things have been going well in both my heroic and civilian life. I’m sure it could help counter your own bad luck, so I’m open to assisting you however you can.”

“Of course that is what you meant Mr. Shuggazoom’s most eligible bachelor,” She chuckled, but it was forced, “But what if instead my bad luck ends up taking over your good luck? Then you or the city could get hurt?” She shook her head and looked him in the eye for the first time the entire evening. “No, its better if I’m still on my own and you keep doing your own thing. So Shuggazoom’s golden boy doesn’t have to worry about little old me, okay.”

He frowned but she just kept staring, trying to hammer the point home without speaking. She only let up when Flora began to climb out of her lap, trying to steady onto her feet and walk over to the rest of the monkeys. Sparks was still by her lap, as was Otto who poked at the nearby Gibson to look his way. Nova, ever adventures, had climbed onto Pheena’s shoulders while were still a playing with her cloak.

He had to smile at the scene, especially how Sparks reached out to help Flora as she tried to steady her stance, Nova chirping encouragement, and Otto clapping his hands. They really were amazing creatures and every time he visited it was a treat to see them grow and develop. Gibson always hung around the Alchemist lab, Otto tried to get his hands on his gadgets, and Nova took to imitating his fighting stances from the battle clips they watched. Antauri had even begun mimicking their lotus positions during meditation!

If he wasn’t so busy, in both facets of his life, he would be severely tempted to ask the Alchemist if he could keep one. He wouldn’t mind the company when he had to be away in the city. Maybe he could ask the Alchemist about it…

Flora slipped, but Pheena quickly had a hand under her belly to catch her. “Don’t worry, everything is okay.” She said with just enough emphasis his way that he knew she wasn’t talking to just the monkeys.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t devolve into arguments. “Well, I have to get going. Got things to do and people to see. Will I get we get a chance to meet up again before you head back?”

“Probably not,” And for once there was a break, a genuine gleam of sadness to her eyes before she fixed it away, “I’ll be heading back to Karaladol once I’m done saying goodbyes to Patches and the monkeys. The masters will want an update about what I’ve been getting underfoot about.”

“Before you leave, I want to show you something I’ve been working on Captain,” Spoke up the Alchemist, who had otherwise blended into the background of the lab and their conversation, “Would you be fine with watching the monkeys while I’m gone Pheena?”

“Of course,” She laughed as the monkeys tried to fill her lap, now empty since she was holding Flora. It was a good thing she was being overwhelmed with the cute, otherwise she might have caught the look that was shared between her two friends. Or that they were walking not towards the Alchemist’s lab, but the secluded hallway that led to the front door exit.

She also didn’t see how Captain Shuggazoom let out a huff. “She’s hiding something,” He said, his frustration venting out through gritted teeth.

The Alchemist nodded. “She is.”

“Do you have any idea what it could be? I figured that it’s probably related to the monster attacks but that is as far as I got.”

“I have some theories, but nothing concrete.”

He frowned as he ran a hand through his hair, as if it would stimulate his brain to come up with a solution. “Do you want to try talking to her about it? You’re better with this spiritual stuff than I am, so you’ll understand it more than me anyway.”

“I doubt she’ll be more open with me, but I can try. I do have some questions for her about the Power Primate that might help illuminate some things.”

And probably would involve things Captain Shuggazoom couldn’t even begin to understand, but he was use to that now. The Alchemist and Pheena would deal with esoteric magics and spirits, while he would always be here, protecting Shuggazoom and the home they could return to.

“Best of luck to you then, old friend.” Captain Shuggazoom put his helmet back on, but before slipping the cover, he turned towards the front of the hallway to shout. “I’m heading out now, Pheena, see you next time!”

“See you then, Goldie!” Her voice, somewhat muffled by the distance, replied. His helmet’s screen then slide into place, his cape fluttering behind him as he walked out the lab.

(But there wouldn’t be a next time for the two of them)

The Alchemist got into the habit of always makings sure the front door slide into place when Captain Shuggazoom left. It was suppose to automatically close, but there was always a chance of a bug or leaf or some other factor interfering with the mechanism. The Captain would probably say his magic could handle any creature that dared to walk in, but his biggest fear was more of what could get out.

His monkeys were at a precocious age, all save the youngest steady on their feet and ready to explore. He had plans that would allow them to stand up against the threats around their home, but that was for the future. For now they were small and curious and needed the front door to stay closed.

It also gave him an excuse to take a moment to think about what he and the Captain discussed, and how he would approach Pheena.

There was the blessing that the time made for a good conversation segue-way. “It’s almost feeding time for them again.” He said as he returned to the monkey covered pile that was his other childhood friend.

“Alright,” She laughed as she careful stood up and gently pried the monkeys off of her. “You heard him, it snack time!”

Pheena still kept Flora in her arms, so he handed her a bottle. The littlest monkey was doing better, and able to eat some solid food, but she still needed some formula supplements. Pheena happily took to the time-consuming task of bottle feeding her, allowing him to focus on the rest of his monkey troop.

He sat down a plate of fruit, vegetables, and other snacks. There was a cascade of squeals as they clamored over the plate, Mandarin trying to ensure some semblance of order by making sure no one monkey hoarded all of one type. But the afternoon playing made him as hungry as his younger peers, so he gave up at a point to stuff his face from the selection of citrus. And then, with bellies full, they all let out a yawn, one by one in turn, and curled up in a file of fluff and fur to sleep.

The Alchemist reached down to clean up the scraps of peels and rinds left on the floor and turned around with the now empty plate towards Pheena, only to find her gone.

Frowning, he placed the plate on one of the many tables that littered his lab, reviewing where she could have gone. She still had Flora, he thought as he put a blanket over the rest of his sleeping monkeys, so he was pretty sure that she hadn’t returned to Karaladol behind his back.

Or at least he would like to think she wouldn’t, but she became more of a stranger with each visit

There was a change in the atmosphere, a slight shifting in the aura of the area that his magical training let him pick up on. It was the same feel when Pheena used her Power Primate abilities and was coming from another room.

Pheena was there, the empty bottle discard off to the side and a sleeping Flora clutched to her chest. Her eyes were glowing white-green, bright enough that he couldn’t see her blue irises but it did seem that she wasn’t focusing on something in the room.

“Pheena?”

She gasped as the glow subsided, her irises reappearing as she turned to him. “Oh, it’s just you Patches! Sorry, I just wanted a quieter place to feed our little Sprout.”

“That didn’t seem to be the only reason.”

She shrugged, “Just scanning the area and practicing my technique. It’s one thing to read a single life force, but it’s another, harder thing to be able to spread it out.”

“And the Veron Mystics taught you that. Did they teach you anything else?”

“Oh, just things that I don’t think you’ll understand.”

He walked up to her, towering over her even with her standing upright. “Try me.”

There was a flicker of something on her face before she smiled. “Oh Patches, trust me, it not something you’ll be interesting in knowing-”

“If it troubles you, of course I want to know.” She backed off at her interruption, “Pheena, Clayton and I both know that something is going on. It’s just not these monster attacks, but your behavior as well. We know you’re trying to hide something from us.”

“I’m not-“

“We know you too well. And it’s because of that we are worried for you. Especially because I know something is up. I can tell with my magic, that you are battling some force far bigger than petty crooks and super villains.”

She was stricken silent, the smile slipping from her face as she stared at him. There was a gaunt paleness to her skin, and combined with the dark coloring of her Veron Mystic clothing, it made her look deathly ill.

The Alchemist’s heart ached with a need to help. He was all too use to being resigned to the sidelines. He wasn’t born with gifts the way Clayton and Pheena were, he didn’t have super strength and flight like Clayton, or read mind like Pheena. All he had was his mind, an ability to consume and absorb the offer conflicting knowledge of magic and science into a harmonious mix.

And it was through knowledge that he was able to do good, even if it wasn’t directly. It was why he labored so long with Maezono and Takeuchi to create the Super Robot, a prototype for future fighting machines that could be used for good. It was why he happily made weapons and tools to assist Captain Shuggazoom in defending the city. It was why he had such big plans for his monkey team.

It was why he wanted more than anything to know what weight Pheena carried on her shoulders.

He bend down, putting his hands on her shoulder as they stood face to face. “Please Pheena, we’re your friends. Let us help you, let me help you, even if it as a sympathetic ear for the burdens you bear.”

The silence seemed as heavy as she took in his words, looking away from him mismatched stare. He found himself holding his breath, waiting in anticipation for her answer.

“…they’re called the Dark Ones.” She finally said, looking at him with a steel to her eyes.

“The Dark Ones,” He repeated, mulling over the name. “That sounds familiar, I think that I saw some references to them in some of my arcane texts.”

“You probably have, they’re as old as the galaxy. They remnants of the first evil that threatened all life and existence.”

“And the monsters are trying to complete that goal?”

“No, the demons and cultists are trying to free them, or at least the surviving offspring, no matter the cost to the planet.”

“The planet?” There was a flip of his stomach as a horrid thought crossed his mind. “Pheena, where are they imprisoned?”

“…it seems you have figured it out already,” She said, in a tone barely above a whisper, “But to confirm your suspicion, they lay dormant in the cores of planets, and Shuggazoom is one of them.”

She turned away, her eyes directed at the floor but peering at something far below it. She left out a short, bitter laugh. “You know, I always felt that there was something within the planet. It felt like there was something just crawling under the surface, trying to burrow its essences into every part of the planet.” Her left hand still held Flora, but her right one was free to dig its nails into her left arm, as if trying to claw at a worm underneath her skin. “That’s why the Veron Mystics recruited me, because I can so easily sense them.”

He put his hand on hers, gently pulling it off from the arm and giving it a comforting squeeze. It broke whatever trance she was in, as she turned back to the Alchemist and took a deep breath. “That’s why the planet gets targeted so much, why Shuggazoom always had a protector in the past even before Goldie. They may not be actively seeking it, but its evil subconsciously calls to them and they respond. Normally, that’s no big deal, as freeing it isn’t their main objectively, but lately-”

“But lately there have been one’s going after it.”

She nodded. “The powers of the Dark Ones grows in their dimensions, and with it their influence in ours. Now they have dedicated followers that are trying to tip the balance of the universe in their favor by releasing the ones sealed in the cores.”

“But if the Veron Mystics recruited you because of them, then that must mean that have their own ways of dealing with it.”

“They do, and I’ve become quiet adapt at sealing their evil, but it’s just exhausting because of the size of their forces and areas we have to defend. Take Shuggazoom, where we have three main points of concern.”

He immediately knew the place. “The temple, the island, and the mining pit.”

She nodded. “Right, but we already were able to control most of it. The Arcane Island is supposed to be a portal to their home dimensions, but we reinforced it so that it is pretty much useless. Nothing can come out of it, and while they could get in, that’s only if they have some Power Primate to bypass the seals. Same thing with the temple, it’ll be years before they can work around my wards. The only one we’re having trouble with is the mining pit.” She frowned. “It’s not a means to summon or empower the Dark Ones, but a way towards the weak point of the prison.”

“And I take it you don’t know how fix that.”

“The ruins on the island and the temple are relatively recent compared to how long the Dark Ones have been imprisoned. For now, all we can do is to try to manage the threats.”

There was a soft cooing sound, and Pheena looked down to where Flora was waking up in her arms. She let out a small yawn before bleary red eyes looked up to her and smiled.

Pheena returned the smile and gave the monkey an affection pat on the head, fingers running down to the pink ribbon tied around her. “I spend so much time sensing and reading the minds of those dedicated to evil and death, that it is such a relief to be here. Being with your monkeys, just being able to bask in their life and innocents, has been a bright spot in all this. It was especially wonderful tending to Sprout and watching her grow up.” She sighed, reluctantly pulling Flora away from her chest, despite the protesting cries the monkey made, and holding her out to him. “She can keep the ribbon, consider it my way of thanking her.”

It was only semantics that made Flora ‘his’, more out of convenience that he was already use to caring for young monkeys.

But it was Pheena who had found Flora among the wreckage left in the wake of the beast’s destruction, cradled by the bodies of her parents who had sacrificed their life to protect their young daughter. It was Pheena who had not let their sacrifice go to waste by bringing Flora to him, otherwise he didn’t think she would have let him or Clayton know she was even on the planet. And Pheena was the one who did most of the demanding one-on-one care Flora required, allowing him more time to see to the rest of the monkeys. He had doubted her chances of surviving, but she persevered, probably because of the extra attention Pheena gave her.

From the very first moment, from being the finder and the found, that was a bond put in place between Pheena and Flora. Pheena didn’t try to show such blatant favoritism, but it was clear once she tied her old pink ribbon around Flora, trying to justify it under the flimsy excuse of ‘being too cute.’

He really shouldn’t do this. Flora was entering a precarious stage of development. As she became more mobile, she would need social interaction with monkeys of her species. The socialization would be crucial to her development, teaching her certain behavioral cues and rules. Who knows how her temperament would turn out without it?

But he kept thinking of the uncensored joy and peace that Pheena always had with Flora, and his decision was made. “Do you want to take her back with you?”

Pheena looked like she was about to fall over. “What? Patches, are you serious?”

I am,” He nodded, pushing her hands and Flora back towards her. “You already showed that you can take care of her, since you’re basically her primary caretaker already. Flora’s going to still need more individual attention, and I have six other monkeys to take care of. You’ll be able to better give her the attention she needs, unless you don’t think you will?”

“No, no, I can!” She hugged Flora again, lighting up like a kid who was told they could get a puppy. “Most of my time on Karaladol is spent sensing for Dark Ones, meditating, studying, all that stuff that will leave me with plenty of time to care for her. And she is such a good girl that I’m sure the masters will be fine with her tagging along with me.” Pheena held Flora up, resting their foreheads together. “Even stuffy Master Zan wouldn’t be able to say no to such a cute face!”

Flora chirped in response, getting a genuine, happy laugh out of Pheena.

The Alchemist had to smile at the display. He could help Pheena this way, he thought as they went about packing up supplies for Flora and going over instructions just in case she fell sick again.

But his mind was already working on another solution, recalling what he learned about other dimensions and interacting with them. He could make it so they could better monitor the Dark Ones, and if what Pheena said was true about the connection between them and the villains that threaten Shuggazoom, then this could even help Captain Shuggazoom as well in the long run.

In time, he was sure he could make it so that such evil would never be such a threat again.

#SRMTHFG #srmthg #Acara's fanfiction #Pheena done mess up #And we have one reason why Flora is such a brat #Golden Age Trio #Acara's OC #All of the dramatic irony

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

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Fate

Summary: The Abduction of Persephone or how Levi couldn’t get you of his head.

Pairing: Hades!Levi x Persephone!Reader

Warnings & Content: nsfw, mentions of rape & incest (cause, you know, Zeus is a fucking entitled asshole and nobody fucking likes him), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, language, loss of virginity

Word Count: 5.1 k

A/N: literally the only thing I have to say is that for the purpose of this fic, Hanji has she/her pronouns, and the first few paragraphs are written in third person xD happy reading!

Help me...

Please...

Help... me...

Sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes shoot open. That damned dream again. That sweet voice again. Levi Hades can't comprehend why he was dreaming. Gods don'tdream. His bed seems empty, but he never needed anyone in it. For some reason, now he feels like someone is missing. He gets up, naked body and blank eyes watching over his realm from the balcony of his castle. Empty. Other than the souls of the dead that quietly dance around like little flames, it's empty. Other than Cerberus sleeping peacefully, it's empty. And so damn cold. Mortals mistaken the Underworld for a scorching hot place, but in reality, it's as cold as Levi Hades' heart. If he even has a heart.

He wraps his toga around his sculpted body, a wreath of laurels on his coal-black hair, donning his arms with silver bracelets and rings. Time doesn't exist in the world of the dead, but Levi Hades sticks to a strict schedule. He waves his hand and a scroll and quill magically appear on his marble desk. He can't trust Hermes with this message, and so he gives it to one of his dogs to deliver it to Hanji Hecate. Who better to interpret the meaning of his dream than the goddess of witchcraft herself? LeviHades surrounds himself in thick, grey smoke before he disappears from his bedroom.

Somewhere on Earth, Y/N Persephone is being watched by Zeus. The powerful god cannot resist such a beauty, and he is known for having his way with anyone, even his own daughter. But it's not her time, he thinks, not just yet. She knows this, she knows what will happen to her when she reaches the age of marriage, and at night, when not a soul is awake, she sobs and prays that someone will find her and help her. She is willing to do anything to escape her father's clutches and her dark future. And every night she cries, it rains — it pours.

At the outskirts of the Underworld, Hanji Hecate receives a message. She reads it carefully, and a knot forms in her stomach. The goddess heard the pleas of a girl, whom she believed to be a mortal, but if Levi Hades heard her, too, then it could only be another deity. HanjiHecate closes her eyes and performs a spell in the hopes of locating the desperate girl. It doesn't work. It doesn't work because, unbeknownst to her, Demeter is hiding her daughter from the preying eyes of Zeus.

They searched for weeks, mortal weeks, for the crying goddess, but none of them had any luck. Y/N Persephone is somewhere in the shadows of Demeter, but even she knows her mother can't protect her forever. Zeus gets what Zeus wants eventually. The sun rises over the meadow, but Y/N Persephone doesn't know that because she's stuck weaving in a cave, sweat dripping down her forehead, hairs sticking to her face. The drakons Demeter placed at the entrance of the cave followed Y/N Persephone outside, guarding her as she washes herself in a nearby stream. He isn't supposed to be there. Levi Hades isn't supposed to peer at her naked body and the way she splashes the crystal-clear water. He was supposed to meet with Hanji Hecate and take a walk. He was supposed to go back to the Underworld after that. Yet here he is, spellbound by her gestures, her face, her eyes. And then, she sings. Y/N Persephone begins to sing and all the flowers around him bloom. Levi Hades goes into a shocked state, eyes wide open, brows raised. He knows that voice. He knows it because he's been dreaming it. His scent is picked up by the drakons and he disappears, leaving behind a trail of smoke.

"I found her, Hecate. I found her, but I can't get close to her."

"What do you mean you found her? Just like that?" Hanji Hecate's fingers trace the bark of a tree.

"It was fate. It must be." Levi Hades is desperate now.

"Calm down, Hades. I've never seen you so... twitchy." She laughs, kneeling in the grass. The witch plays with some fallen leaves, brown hair flowing in the wind.

"That's because you didn't see what I did. She started singing and flowers bloomed! I don't know what kind of nymph she is, but she is beautiful. Nothing like I've ever seen before."

"Oh, I never thought I'd live to see the day Hades falls in love." Hanji Hecate laughs again. "So why didn't you approach her?"

"Tch, because she was surrounded by drakons. I don't understand why a mere nymph would need so much protection."

The goddess gasps, all traces of happiness gone from her face, replaced by disappointment and anxiety. Levi Hades takes notice of this and places his cold hand on the witch's shoulder, but she flinches.

"You can't have her."

"You knowher?" His voice is condescending, offended that his good friend hid something like this from him.

"Hades, she's Demeter's daughter, Persephone. She's not just some nymph, but the goddess of spring." Hanji Hecate brings her palms together, forming a triangle. "We can't talk here."

Levi Hades nods and lets himself transported to the Underworld, back to the familiar souls lingering in the air.

"Talk, Hecate." He is impatient and demanding, arms folded across his chest.

"Zeus wants her, and Demeter and I are keeping her hidden." The deity explains with pain in her voice.

"Yes, well, you're not doing a very good job, now, are you?"

"Oi, the drakons noticed you. You don't think they would notice Zeus?" She snaps back, traces of arrogance in her voice.

"Hecate... it's Zeus. What would stop that brat from turning into a drakon fool her?"

The goddess shivers, shifting her weight from side to side.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I do, actually. I'll bring Persephone here." LeviHades proudly states, but his face is still blank, not once betraying his true feelings.

"You'll... what?" Her mouth is slightly open, bewildered by the god.

"It's the only place Zeus doesn't have access without an invitation. Face it, Hecate, it's a good plan. Better than yours, anyway."

Hanji Hecate is speechless, completely at a loss for words. She ponders over the idea, a hand brought to her chin to think better.

"Alright, but what makes you think she'll just stroll through the gates of the Underworld without a complaint?"

"Oh, you've mistaken my words. I'll forcefully bring her here." He tilts his head, a semblance of a smirk on his lips.

"For fuck's sake, Hades, she's not what you'd expect. And what about me? I promised Demeter I would protect her!" HanjiHecate throws her hands in the air, her shadow taking the form of a raging dog.

"Do notchallenge me, witch. You know I can destroy you in the blink of an eye." LeviHades growls and her shadow restores itself to its natural shape. "Besides, you would still protect her. The Underworld is where you abide."

She knows she shouldn't carelessly be out in the open one hour before her coming of age. But Y/N Persephone, with tears streaming down her beautiful face, embraced her future. She knows Zeus will come for her, and so she willingly gives herself to him. With poppy seeds, she put the drakons to sleep and left the cave, clad in a sheer toga, her body visible through the transparent fabric.

"If you want me, come and get me, father!" Y/N Persephone screams at the skies, the flora surrounding her slowly turning a dark shade of brown and dying, just like her innocence would die tonight. The earth shatters behind her, marigold flames and ashy smoke cracking open the soil. Shadowy figures emerge, grasping the young goddess' limbs and they drag her down, down, down to the Underworld. She is afraid, her heart beats faster as the moonlight disappears, and all she can see is darkness.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be gentler, but I didn't want Zeus to get the wrong idea."

"You're Hades, aren't you?"

"Yes, but please, call me Levi. Persephone, I presume." Levi doesn't smile, but his voice is warm, contrasting the cold that surrounded your body.

"Don't call me that." You spit back, confused as to why you were in his realm in the first place.

"You should be a little more grateful that I saved you, brat." He narrows his eyes down at you.

"Saved me? You abductedme. You're no better than him."

Hanji Hecate was right, you had fire in your soul, and an attitude that would drive Levi over the edge.

"Tch, don't compare me to that pretentious cock." The god scoffs and your expression softens.

"Zeus is a... cock? With a beak and feathers?" You giggle and he almost wants punch himself. How could he forget how innocent you are? Clearly, he's been spending too much time with Minthe.

"That's one way to put it."

"Is there another way?" You ask with your index finger brought to your lips, pure curiosity in your eyes.

"Forget that, you said you didn't want me to call you Persephone. How else should I address you?"

"Y/N." You tell him, eyes peering to the balcony of his castle and you skip to it. "Oh, this place is huge! What are those?" You point at the colourful flames dancing in the air.

"Souls." Levi joins you, resting his arms on the marble railing.

"They're beautiful!" You are in awe, and he is just as mesmerised by your beauty. Not one sane god or goddess would consider the souls of the dead beautiful.

"Look, Y/N, I heard you. In my dreams, I mean. I'm not going to hurt you, I brought you here to rescue you." He lies through his teeth. Levi did want to save you, he still does, but he can't deny the fact that he wanted you all to himself. "I'm gonna mind my own business, you mind yours. Try not to break anything. And don't, under any circumstances, make a mess out of my castle, or my realm."

You lean on the railing, nose scrunched and a hand on your hip.

"What am I supposed to do, then? And what about my mother? What about when spring comes and I have to bring it? What about Zeus?"

Levi grits his teeth, almost regretting his decision of saving you.

"Tch, I'll deal with Demeter. I'll tell Zeus I'm marrying you. You can go bring spring when it's due. Happy?" He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"And you won't taint my innocence?"

Oh, he will taint it, alright. But not just yet.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"You still didn't answer my first question. What am I supposed to do?" You shift your weight from one leg to the other, impatiently waiting for a proper answer from your captor.

"Anything you want, just don't get in my way when I'm dealing with the dead."

"You're an aggressive little man, you know that?"

Levi can feel a blood vessel bursting on his forehead. You were truly annoying, but he couldn't just sit around and wait for Zeus to have his way with you.

"Anyway, I suppose it is safer to be here." You rolled your eyes. "Got any books?"

"What, you read?" He snorts, a condescending brow arched.

"Don't patronise me. You're the one who abducted me, you could at least try to be nice to me."

Levi sighs. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He imagined you'd make the perfect housewife and keep him some company.

"First floor. Just stay out of the restricted section."

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Zeus' beard, are you always this irritating?"

"Are you?" You chuckle, a hand hiding your smile.

With another sigh, Levi disappears, leaving you alone. "Great job, Y/N, you made the only person who took a crumb of pity on you to go away." You say to yourself, a pout on your lips.

The Underworld wasn't as bad as you thought. Sure, there was the occasional fire popping from the ground here and there, and you had to be careful not to burn yourself, but overall, it was serene. Some parts of it were scorching hot, but mostly it was cold, and you always brought an extra cloak with you when exploring the realm. Levi wasn't always with you, in fact you haven't seen him in days, but you met his three-headed puppy. Well, puppy wasn't the best word to describe the creature, and it did try to eat you the first time, but you stood your ground and tamed the beast with your singing and eager belly rubs.

"This is a sight I never thought I'd live to see." Levi is shocked, watching his raging dog so calm. "Cerberus never lets anyone but me touch him." He gives the dog a few pats on his back.

"Well, Cerberus likes me better, don't you? Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are!" You kiss all three muzzles and hug the gigantic beast, the heat of its fuzzy body warming you up.

"Oi, don't get ahead of yourself. Come here, Cerberus." Levi extends his arms and the creature is confused. "I said, come here."

The dog stops wagging its tail and plops next to you with a groan, one head resting in your arms. The shit-eating grin on your face is enough to make Levi sigh.

"See? I told you he likes me better." You poke your tongue out in triumph. You wave your hands and the god watches how you place three daffodil wreaths on each of Cerberus' heads. "Much better!"

"Y/N, he looks silly."

"No, he looks adorable! Here, I made you one, too."

Levi takes the flower crown and inspects it, careful not to crumble the petals.

"What is this?" He asks, marvelling at the beauty of the ice-blue colour of the plant.

"Uh, a flower crown?"

"Yeah, no shit. I meant what flower is this?"

"Oh, it's a blue poppy. One of the rarest plants in the world." You smile. "I think it suits you."

"You're an oddball."

You sit in a lavish chair, all kinds of foods displayed on the table in front of you. Saliva pools in your mouth, but you decide to wait for Levi anyway. It's bad manners to start eating without the host, Demeter taught you that. Gods and goddess don't eat mortal foods, but sometimes they indulge in it, and tonight was one of those nights.

"Here, try this." Levi offers you a strange fruit, something humans have on earth, but different.

"What is it?" You poke your finger at the juicy fruit, sucking the sweetness from your digit.

"It's a pomegranate that only grows in the Underworld."

You pick at the seeds, popping one in your mouth. You couldn't believe something so good could grow in a cold place like this.

"So, what's the occasion?" You ask Levi as you eat three more seeds, the crimson juice staining your lips.

"Our wedding."

You accidentally swallow, choking on saliva and the pomegranate seeds, your fist hammering your chest as you gasp for air.

"What?"

"I told Zeus I'm marrying you and now he wants proof." Levi bluntly states, a chalice of nectar in his hand.

"No."

"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."

"But… I'm supposed to be a virgin. Marriage implies consumption of it." You slam your fists on the table. "My mother-"

"Your mother lied to you. You're a goddess of fertility for fuck's sake." He shrugs and you're shocked by how chilling his voice sounds. Sure, Levi was always brooding and silent, but now he was just inconsiderate. "However, I'm not a man who breaks his promises. I told you I won't do anything you don't want me to."

"Oh, how niceof you. I'm leaving." You stand up, pushing the chair away.

"And go where? Demeter can't protect you forever, and you don't stand a chance against Zeus."

"You know why I hate my name so much, Levi?" You growl, fingernails digging into the wooden table.

"Do, tell."

"Because it means destruction. A fitting name for a goddess of ‘fertility’, don't you think?" The table splits open and all the plates fall to the ground. Your normal, bubbly aura changes suddenly and there's a hint of red in your Y/E/C eyes. "You think I don't stand a chance against Zeus? I'm his offspring." You snap, and instead of flowers falling out of your hair, there's thorns, spikes and rusty leaves all over the place. The uglies, most poisonous plants sprout from the ground and you're no longer the goddess of spring, but the bringer of slaughter, and Levi is impressed. Now he really knows it was faith that brought you together, he knows your place is with him — with the dead.

"Marry me." He says, unmoved by your little show. Unmoved on the outside, because on the inside he wants to bend you over and fuck you silly. His words shouldfuel your rage, but you're too surprised by the fact that he still wants to marry you, despite your outburst.

"Why? Because Zeus wants that?" Vines protrude from your skin and your fingernails turn black. You were completely different than the helpless little girl he rescued that night. You were terrifying. But not to Levi — to him you were fascinating.

"Because I want that."

It was safe to say you had fallen in love with Levi in those nine months since you came to the Underworld. He accepted you the way you were, he accepted your darkness, something not even your mother could do, and that's what triggered your feelings for the god of the dead. You still didn't allow him to call you Persephone, because you still hadn't fully embraced that part of you. Spring was almost due, but you promised Levi you'd go to earth after your wedding. Everyone would be there, including Demeter, which you haven't seen in a long time.

A soft knock interrupts your thoughts.

"Y/N, are you ready?"

"In a second, Hanji!"

"Oh, thank the gods for calling me that. I keep telling everyone I'm tired of Hecate but they don't care." The witch scoffs from the other side of the door.

"Has my mother arrived?" You ask, concern visible in your voice.

"Yes. And she's not happy."

"Hey," you open the door, "thanks for taking the blame and explaining things to her." You hug the goddess and she holds you tight.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It's me who should thank you. I don't know what you did to Levi, but he seems happier. He won't show it because he's a prick, but I can feel it."

You flash Hanji a genuine smile and ask her to fix your veil, to which she gladly accepts before escorting you to the castle grounds. Your mother should do this, but she hated her future groom, or your father, but he was a sick man who only decided to leave you alone because he respected Levi.

Every god and goddess of Olympus is here, even your uncle Poseidon. You emerge from the castle, arm looped around Hanji's and you smirk at Levi's shock. He never thought you could be more beautiful, yet here you are, dressed in silk, flowers on your hand and a thin veil clinging from the peony crown on your head. You catch a glimpse of Demeter before drifting your eyes to your future husband.

"Ladies and gentlemen, gods and goddesses, we have gathered here today to witness and bless the union between Levi, god of the Underworld, and Y/N, goddess of spring." Hanji proudly declares. The ceremony doesn't last too long, and when Levi's lips crush yours in what is your first kiss, thousands upon thousands of plants sprout from the soil, colourful flowers blooming and letting out the sweetest smells known to mankind. Love, he thinks, that's what love smells like.

You're tired from the party, tired from all the talking and mingling, tired from your mother's lecture, and tired from avoiding your father. At least Hera was nice enough to wish you a happy marriage. You pace around your bedroom, sitting on the bed, then standing up again. Levi went to his chamber after the party, but you were expecting, no, you wanted to consume the marriage. You walk to his room, a toga lazily draped over your shoulders, and open the door without a single knock. He's in bed, the only light source being the colourful souls levitating outside his windows. You carefully push the covers and climb into the bed, gently scooching closer to him.

"Psst, husband, are you sleeping?" You poke his shoulder.

"Tch, not anymore." He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes and look at you. "What do you want?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked! Seeing as we're married now, I thought it's only natural for a wife to sleep with her husband." You roll on your side, propping yourself on your elbow. Tentatively, you tug on the fabric of the toga, exposing your shoulders and part of your breasts.

"So sleep." Levi finally lolls his head to the side, facing you. He did not expect to see you sprawled on his bed like that, in a lewd position and a playful smile on your soft lips. "You don't have to do this just because we're married.

"I'm doing it because I want to. And I know you want it, too, Levi." You purr, your fingers grazing over your collarbone.

"It's going to hurt." He warns you, but his hand is already on your thigh.

"I know. But you'll take good care of me, won't you?"

Levi has no idea which one of you is talking — Y/N, goddess of spring, or Y/N, goddess of destruction — and frankly he doesn't even care at this point. As long as he has your approval, he knows he can do whatever he wants. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, obviously inexperienced, but he likes it that way. He likes that you have no idea what you're doing because he can be in control. His hand runs up and down your thigh and you can feel heat building in your core.

"Tingles..." You mumble in his lips with a hazy smile.

"Have you ever touched yourself?" Levi pulls away and you nod. "Show me."

You feel embarrassed and small, but obey nonetheless. Your hand travels between your legs and your fingers touch your already swollen clit, rubbing it in circular motions. Levi watches you with hungry eyes, wanting very hard to abstain, but he can't, and so he takes your nipple in his hot mouth. You whimper at the new sensation, electricity shooting through your body as he snakes a hand between your thighs, two fingers diving into your cunt.

"Ah! L-Levi! So big!" You mewl and he throws his head back, releasing your poor nipple.

"That's nothing compared to what you'll get, you needy brat." He curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot, and you buck your hips. Despite being a virgin, your body naturally knows what to do. Your spongy walls clench around his digits and Levi can already feel how tight you'll be around his cock. "You're so wet."

"Is t-that a good thing?" You're innocent and pure and you rock your hips back and forth, pathetic moans escaping your lips.

"Fuck, yes." Levi kisses you, and it's nothing like the kiss from your wedding. It's desperate and greedy, and he wants you all to himself. The pace quickens, he's pumping his fingers in and out of you faster and you don't know what to do, so you keep rubbing your clit and the familiar heat of your orgasm flushes through your body. You come undone on his hand, the sinful, squelching sound echoing in the bedroom.

"It didn't hurt at all!" You look at your husband, but there's a hint of mischief in your voice, a playful glisten in your eyes. Levi clicks his tongue, because the worst — and best — is yet to come, and you know it — you're no saint.

"Come here." Levi orders and yanks you by the hair, his aggressive gesture sending a shiver down your spine and into your cunt. "Be a good girl and open that pretty mouth for me."

You obey and part your luscious lips and then you see his cock for the first time — thick and veiny, it slaps your face as it pops out of his undergarments, the tip grazing over your cheeks.

"Levi that's... that's too big." You chew your lower lip and lean back.

"You'll be fine. You said it yourself, I'll take good care of you." He cups your face with one hand, thumb caressing your chin. "Now suck it. Make sure to use lots of spit."

You feel your cheeks hot and test the waters by giving the glistening tip a few licks, tongue swirling around it. It tastes salty, and you find yourself liking this. Levi pats your head, but you feel him tensing with each movement of your tongue.

"Shit." He curses under his breath and when you look up at him with doe eyes, his heart pounds into his chest. You courageously take the tip into your mouth, and with hollowed cheeks, you move further. "Yeah, just like that. Take it all."

Bobbing your head up and down, you try to take it all, but the girth and length is just too much, and tears pool at your eyes from the lack of air, but also from how good it feels to have a fat cock in your mouth. Muffled moans reverberate in your throat, and Levi can feel the vibrations tickling him. He firmly grabs your nape and holds your head in place.

"Trust me and relax, can you do that for me?"

You half-nod, anxious and somewhat excited for what is about to happen. Your husband rocks his hips back and forth slowly before aggressively fucking your poor throat, and you feel the arousal building in your core again. So much for promising your mother you'd always stay a virgin. You want to touch yourself again, but Levi slaps your hand away and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head still until you choke, your fingernails digging into his arm. The god pulls out and you gasp for air, and he almost feels sorry when he sees your pathetic state.

"A-again!" You flash him your pearls in a sultry smile, spit dripping down your chin. Who knew you liked asphyxiation?

"Needy brat."

"Please!"

"Tch, later. Right now, I want to fuck you." Levi growls and he already has you pinned on the bed, arms above your head and legs spread open for him. His cock presses against your slick slit and you brace yourself for the incoming pain. "If you want me to stop, tell me."

You don't have the time to nod when you feel a burning sensation between your legs. Squeezing your eyes shut, you bury the back of your head into the pillow and grip the sheets so tight your knuckles begin to lose their colour. Levi slowly pushes further, another inch buried in your cunt, and you bite on your lower lip. But you don't tell him to stop, instead your spongy walls clench around his cock and another inch gets lost in you.

You never thought gods could feel such immense pain, yet here you are, with a bloody lip from digging your teeth into it and a sore pussy. But the worst thing faded bit by bit when Levi bottomed out into your cunt. The two of you sit still, your husband allowing you to get used to his girth.

"Do you think I bled?" You ask, eyes filled with tears.

"Probably, but I promise it will never hurt like this from now on." He comforts you before licking the blood from your lips. The gesture makes your cunt flutter and Levi takes it as a sign to go on. Slowly, he rocks his hips back and forth, and the molten pain is replaced by tingles and arousal.

"You good?"

"Y-yes, oh, f- yes!"

"You can say fuck, you know?" Levi thrusts once, and it's so deep you feel his cock brush over your cervix.

"Fuck!" You cry out, legs wrapping around his waist to make sure he doesn't pull out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Good girl."

There's no more room for gentle touches and soothing words when your husband fucks you raw. Your hips buck against his to feel that sweet pressure you never knew you longed for. In and out, his cock makes you feel sore and hazy, and you want more. The sound of his balls slapping your ass makes your mouth water and your eyes glossy, and Levi feels selfish. He pulls out, turns you over and takes you from behind, like a rabid dog fucking a bitch in heat. And you are in heat — you love the way his thrusts make you feel dumb, the way his cock stretches you, the way he uses and abuses your tight little cunt. Everything is so new to you and you adore every bit of it.

"Shit, I'm close." Levi warns you, his fingers digging into your hips, and you want to be good for him, so you drag your hand between your thighs and rub your swollen clit in frantic motions.

"L-Leeevi! I think I'm-"

"Fuck!"

When you feel a hot liquid shooting into you, your legs begin to tremble and you come on his cock, head falling onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. He pulls out and you already miss the feeling of being full, your juices mixed with his own dripping down out of you, down your thigh. You curl up next to your husband, hand holding his arm before you drift to sleep.

A sweet smell fills Levi's nostrils and when he looks at your tired body, there’s flowers in your messy hair. He still can't get used to the way your divine, disorganised powers work, but at least now he knows what's been missing from his life, and the corners of his mouth slightly twist upwards into a genuine smile. The god of the dead, in love with and married to the goddess of spring. Order and chaos blending together in one beautiful, perfectly arranged mess.

It’s fate. It must be fate that brought you together — but it’s love that will keep you together.

tagging @starrynightlys @stolemyheart12

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miraculouswolf99 · 3 years ago

Text

The Language of Flowers

I love Chloe Salt and while this is not the most action-packed of one-shots, I hope you all appreciate the effort that I did to research each and every meaning of the flowers.

*****

Lyon and Vallia Garden.

The first, a teen that would be described as having a heart of ice and a gaze that could freeze you solid. His twin sister, on the other hand, was pretty much said to be a flower garden made human with tree sap instead of blood.

Yet the two stuck to each other as if they were one of those pairs of conjoined twins. The two were opposites in personality, style, and even how they talk. But even then, they were as close as a brother and sister could be.

Nobody in Ms.Bustier's really had any idea about the two foreign students in their class. Of course, they knew that it was part of a program for students of different countries to experience other cultures. But it was almost like having two ghosts in class. They would come and go each day, silent as ever, and it was like they were never there at all.

There wasn't really much of a problem with them, especially since the first day they were there was pretty much the only time they had ever spoken. But they spoke only to give the class brat, Chloe, a good tongue lashing that they all thought she deserved when she tried to make the two as submissive to her as Sabrina. But since then, the two were so silent that most people that were not in the classroom thought that they were mute.

"They two of them are such a mystery," Nino says, a lot of the class hanging out in the classroom during a break since an akuma attack was recently stopped.

The twins were not in the room for reasons no one else knew.

"A mystery wrapped in an enigma and stuffed into a riddle," Alya added, the reporter in her really frustrated.

"They are not as bad as you guys think," Adrien tells them, a bit tired after his fight as Cat Noir.

"How can you be so sure," Alix crosses her arms. "They don't talk to anyone but each other and never in a language we understand."

"I've seen Lyon at his archery practice sometimes when Kagami and I are at fencing," Adrien says. "He probably just has high expectations expected of him like Kagami and me."

"It is probably the same for Vallia, as well, then," Marinette agreed.

"They could, at least, make an effort with us," Kim said.

"My calculations say that there is a less than five percent chance that the two will speak with any of us," Max says.

"They need to learn their places," Chloe sneered. "Bowing at my feet."

"Why are you even here, Chloe," Alya put her hands on her hips. "Everything that ever comes out of your mouth is about as trashy as that dumpster akuma last week."

It had been a garbage man that was having a bad day. Apparently, his daughter was sick, his partner in the truck would not stop singing opera, and then one grosser bags he was trying to put in the truck ripped open. All that combined made him a prime target for Hawkmoth. Luckily, Ladybug, Cat Noir, White Wolf, and Beautifly managed to stop him from turning Paris into one giant landfill. Which, ironically, was his villain name. Landfill.

"My father will hear about..." Chloe tried.

"Shut up, Chloe," Marinette yelled. "Maybe the reason they don't talk to us is that they think we are all just as under your pathetic thumb as Sabrina."

"I'd rather be turned back into Timebreaker than be her minion," Alix stated.

"Adrikins, you going to let them talk to me like that," Chloe tried to whine.

For once, Adrien didn't even try to defend her. He turned away from her, shaking his head. To say that the young model was sick of her never-changing attitude would be the understatement of the century. He did a lot of thinking after the Despair Bear incident. Chloe would never change how she was. She has gotten away with it for too long to ever even want to change. She especially didn't change after being turned into Queen Wasp not too long ago.

"They've only been here for a little over two weeks," Marinette reminded them. "Maybe they just need more time to adjust."

"Having friends would help them adjust, girl," Alya put her hand on her best friend's shoulder.

"There is an 86.5 percent chance of them adjusting better with friends by their side," Max said, Markov floating by his head.

The class would have talked more, but they heard the sounds of two people chattering away in a foreign language coming toward the classroom. And since Lila was still MIA since her first day in class, that meant that it had to be the twins. Everyone quickly scrambled to get into their seats and not look like they had a class meeting without the entire class.

When Lyon and Vallia walked in, the silence that had fallen over the classroom seemed to be a lot worse than being caught in a class meeting. But the Greek twins simply walked to their seats in the back and sat down for class to start up again.

"Vríkate ta sostá louloúdia," Lyon whispered to his sister. Translated: Did you find the right flowers.

"Me píre lígo, allá to ékana," Vallia whispered back. Translated: Took me a while, but I did.

The two silently had smirks on their faces.

*****

The next day, the class was unbelievably shocked by what they saw when they walked into the classroom. There were bunches of flowers on all of their desks. A different flower was on each of them. No two desks had the same flower. Except that Ms.Bustier's desk seemed to have a flower bunch with one of each blossom in it.

"Geia," the Greek twins greeted them, standing at the front of the classroom.

Most of the class was too shocked by the flowers to notice that the two of them had actually talked to them.

"Was there some type of flower akuma and we didn't know about it," Alya looked disappointed that she might have missed an akuma attack for her blog.

"Pardon," Lyon crossed his arms.

The class suddenly realized that the twins were talking to them. The two of them were also each holding a few roses in their hands.

"Are you two actually talking to us," Alix asked.

"Eínai tóso dýskolo na eísai oraía," Lyon says to his sister. Translation: They make it so hard to be nice.

"Páre, aderfí," Vallia responded. Translation: Behave, brother.

"Class, sit down," Ms.Bustier instructed. "Lyon and Vallia have some things that they have collecting in order to share with us."

"Flowers," Max asked, confused.

"We basically grew up surrounded by nature," Vallia says. "Plants can be a language all on their own. You just have to know how to use them."

Lyon took a small sniff of the roses he was holding.

"Take roses, for example," he said. "They perfectly describe us. Roses are said to represent people that are quiet and traditional. Quite fitting for the two of us, isn't it."

The class all sat down in their respected seats. Adrien and Marinette were probably the most interested ones of the class, even if they were all curious. Except for Chloe, of course.

"We spent these last couple of weeks getting to know you guys from a distance," Vallia explained. "It is one of our family traditions to give flowers to someone when they enter the family. By marriage or birth."

"We decided to take that tradition and make a classroom version of it," Lyon says. "Each of you has been given flowers that match your personalities. It took us a while to find the right ones and get them here. Luckily, we have a very wide range of flora at our family sanctuary."

"You spent over two weeks getting us flowers," Alix raised her eyebrow.

"Can there really be a flower for each of us," Mylene wondered out loud.

"You have them all in front of you," Lyon looked a little annoyed.

Vallia did have to admit that she was a tab annoyed as well. While they did not know just how much nature meant to them as a part of their lives, the doubt was still annoying.

"We figured this would show that we are more than two foreigners that like to keep to themselves," Vallia says.

"Keep in mind that I still like to keep to myself most of the time," Lyon said, Vallia knowing how much her brother likes the quiet.

"So, what do these flowers mean," Adrien asks.

To his surprise, neither of the twins pulled out a list or anything that could help them remember all the information. They must really know their stuff.

"We can start with Mylene," Vallia says, the small girl blushing. "We gave her peony flowers. They represent those that are kind and also like small gestures."

Ivan was particularly shocked by that. He had only gotten together with Mylene because she read his song as a poem after his second time being akumatized as Stone Heart. She was not up for the big-time rock and roll version he wrote it as, and just liked it as a simple poem or soft song.

"Ivan's was simpler to find," Lyon said. "The carnation flower has always been used to describe down-to-earth people. Ones that are very grounded."

The other members of Kitty Section looked at Ivan, knowing how that was very true. Ivan had always been the first to calm down any fame that might go to their heads after the Captain Hardrock incident and their performance. Well, after Luka that is. Juleka's brother was basically a saint when it came to being cool, calm, and collected.

"We chose poppies for Alix," Vallia explained the red flowers in front of the skater. "The traits that they represent are those that are creative and bold."

That was definitely Alix to a "T." Her art was a mix of both since she did spraypaint street art. And her natural athletic abilities did make her do some pretty bold things.

"Max and Kim, I thought, were the easiest to match," Lyon said. "Max has the aster flower, which represents those that are smart and devoted. Kim has hydrangeas, for those that are athletic and team players."

The class was starting to see just how much the two had worked on their "project."

"I, personally, liked to say that I enjoyed finding flowers for Rose and Juleka," Vallia smiled. "Mostly because I am holding one of their names."

That got a giggle out of the pink-dressed blond and an eye roll from Lyon.

"Get on with it, Vallia," Lyon says. "We still have actual classes to attend, sister."

The class had to hide groans, especially since Bustier was in the room and they did not want to insult her by accident.

"Fine," Vallia sighed. "I thought that tulips matched Rose because they are for the bright and cheerful. Juleka's are also my personal favorite flower, the lily. They are for ones that are quiet but also inspirational to others."

Juleka tried to hide her face in her hands, knowing that she was blushing. Rose was over the moon, for herself and her best friend. If there was any flower that was spot on for anyone in the class, it would be the one that Rose got.

"Nathaniel and Adrien ended up having the flowers that tie as my favorite," Lyon admitted. "I chose the iris for Nathaniel because it is a flower for daydreamers and the imaginative. Orchids are Adrien's because they represent those that are sophisticated, refined, but have good hearts."

Both mentioned boys blushed. While Adrien did have more friends than Nath, both of them were naturally quiet and not used to such praise. Yes, Adrien is a model, but it be a miracle to hear any sort of praise from his father. And Nath was only just starting to come out of his shell thanks to Marinette.

"Sabrina was a tad bit more difficult to match," Vallia almost did not want to admit. "But when you learn about who she is, she is optimistic and also tends to be a morning person. Those are the traits of the daisy."

Sabrina was shocked, as were most of the class. As usual, Chloe didn't care. She had been sneering at the flowers in front of her since she had sat down. Sabrina was internally jumping up and down in excitement. No one had ever tried to get to know her, especially after she became friends with Chloe.

"Alya is a very modern person while Nino also very much in the tech universe, so they were also a little difficult to translate to our olden tradition," Lyon says. "But we did think that Alya best matched with the daffodil. It represents those that are very social and also love friends and family. Nino's flower is the sunflower, a blossom for the warm and those that tend to be very happy-go-lucky."

Both of those descriptions perfectly matched the two. Alya was probably the most social person in the entire school. She had to be to run Paris's most popular blog.

"I thought that Marinette's was very much telling about who she is," Vallia says, Marinette a little embarrassed. "The calla lily is for hardworking people, but also represents people that can be said to be quite rare as well."

Marinette was now bright red as she hid her face in her arms, Alya patting her back. But you could see the look on the blogger's face that she was enjoying someone telling Marinette how special she was. The girl was too humble for her own good.

"And last, Chloe," Lyon did not look happy about it being his turn to talk when it came time to tell the brat about her flower.

"Saving the best for last," the blond ruined the nice moment the twins had created. "About time you two start giving me the respect I deserve."

That was when Lyon got the most ice-cold look on his face that the class had ever seen. Rose even shivered a little bit, as if she was actually cold from the look he gave the brat.

Adrien remembered seeing him give that look only once more. It was last week when he was at a photoshoot after school. Lyon and Vallia had been in the same park as the shoot and had heard the photographer becoming rather aggressive with him. After a few words about acting like a model should and not a teenage boy, Lyon got in the photographer's face and gave him that very look. He had not said one word, but that look was enough to make the man weak in the knees. He had not spoken to Adrien again the entire shoot and a different photographer was assigned to him soon after that day.

"Alright, here is what your flower says about you," Lyon's voice could freeze the Atlantic. "The gardenia flower represents those that like living in a life of luxury. Those that like the lifestyle of the one percent..."

Chloe seemed to be happy with that, but Lyon almost smugly popped her bubble.

"Basically, it's the flower for spoiled brats that need to get taught the meaning of the word 'no," he finished.

#ml salt #chloe salt #i hate chloe #original character #miraculous fandom #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #class sugar

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years ago

Text

Day 32, Story #2 is by @ahankar1610

Title: The Castle of Agony

Author: Ahankar1610

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Prompt: AU / Mythological/Fairytale

Rating: T

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of death.

The Castle of Agony

-------

“Weasley!” a booming voice rang in the east corridor, Auror department, Ministry of Magic. A young man, who was going through the paperwork of recent strategies their head of Department hand introduce and also half paying attention to Chudley Canon’s recent stats in the ongoing league, jumped from his seat in fright.

He ran out of his cubicle, storming past every cubicle and ignoring everyone who had their heads stuck out of their cubicles to see what caused their head of department, Alastor ‘mad-eye’ Moody, to shout this loudly in the corridor. Yes, he was pretty loud, but never that much loud.

Ron Weasley reached the door of the office of Head of the Auror Department, he breathed a sigh and checked his features. He plated his bright red hair to look formal and checked his attire which is thankfully fine, because he’s been busy with paperwork which was thrusted to him by Jenna, the receptionist of Auror Department, and he didn’t get a chance to do anything else after that.

He knocked two times, “Come in,” came Moody’s voice from behind the door. Ron breathed in again to prepare himself and entered the office. He closed the door behind and Moody is not the only one present at the office.

James Potter, The Trainer of Aurors is also present at Moody’s office. He gave a nod to both of them and stood there with his demeanour and stance stiff.

“Auror Weasley,” said Moody in a formal voice, “Our magical control department informed us of rare and immense waves of magic are detected in Barnton, Cheshire. Its an old abandoned castle from where it was detected. Though it is not our work to handle the accidental magic, but it is for the first time this immense amount of magic is recorded,” Moody sighs, Ron can tell that his boss is not happy with the arrangement.

“We think it’s a ploy. by the smugglers. Barnton’s forest had a herd of unicorns and we are sure that their main purpose is to distract us and the rangers,” said James who looked a little reluctant, he exchanged a glance with Moody, “Ron,” he said tenderly, he had always treated Ron like his own and they both are now share a family after the wedding of Harry and Ginny.

“We only want you to check the perimeter of that Castle and report us about every single activity, either it is smugglers or an accidental magic by a brat. Is it understood?” Moody growled.

“Yes sir,” Ron replied in a firm voice.

Moody nodded, “You will reach the spot and try to stay under the cover. If you see anything peculiar, you will contact the headquarters.”

Ron nodded and turn to walk out of the office, his had just turned when he heard James called his name again. He turned and James is watching him with a grim expression, which was a first for Ron, as this man had always had a smile on his face since Ron can remember.

“If anything happened, anything. Just leave the spot and return to the headquarters,” he said gravely. Ron made an odd expression, bewildered by James’s word and behaviour. He nodded and leave the room.

“What happened Potter?” Moody asked quietly, his eyes on James who is sipping water from his glass of his water. His face quaint and unreadable.

“I don’t know,” James said silently, he wiped a little amount of sweat from his forehead by his sleeve. “There is something, something wrong. I feel today is there is something bizarre, about the day today.”

____

Ron landed on his feet at the soft ground. The chilly air of late November hit his cheeks, he shuddered at the sudden contact of coldness.

He quickly casted disillusionment charm on himself. He currently had a tree for his cover as he took around his surroundings. He was at the end of the forest, a place which smugglers usually used for their hideouts.

He shifted a little, he had his wand out. “Homenum Revelio,” there isn’t anyone in the perimeter. Ron frowns, it cannot be possible for the magic trace to be vanish that quickly. His spell tells him that there isn’t a source of magic present in the forest.

The smugglers can’t be gone that quickly. Then suddenly Ron felt something, a shiver, like someone is present around him. His body stiffened as he prepared for a combat, but nothing came.

He glanced around, his disillusionment charm is up and he can feel that someone is watching him. He knew that the attack will upon him. He decides to confront, his location is known by James and Moody and he feels that he can overtake smugglers if he tried. He wants to know their position and the only way to find that is to lure himself to them.

He undid the charm and step out of the cover, nothing happened. He had expected them to jump on him the moment he came out but nothing came. He gripped his wand firmly. The anticipation of an ambush is the only thing in his mind now.

He walked a few step forwards and a breeze of wind passed him from his left, he turned to his left swiftly “Stupefy!” he yelled.

The curse flew past piercing two trees in his way and vanished when it reached the third one. His voice echoed in the dark forest and Ron knew that there is something peculiar is going on in this forest.

“Homenum Revelio,” he whispered again, and this time he felt something. On the north side of the forest, he had felt it. A source of heat. A single source of heat.

He thought about James’s words but he feels but then, he didn’t know why but every part of his body wants him to follow this trail. His instincts are telling him to go to the north side of this forest.

At the moment of this decision, Ron choose to trust his instincts than his teacher. He walked into the depth of the forest.

The north side of the forest is more darker and Ron had found it confusing that many of the plants are magical and it was rare to find the magical flora to be found in muggle visited areas.

His steps died down as a stone appeared in front of him, something is, or something was carved on it. Before someone had scratched it, it seems like it was a name of a place. It was scratched by a sword and there is something which was also carved which made Ron’s eyes twitched.

‘AGONY’

It was carved in the middle of the stone and Ron can tell why someone would do something like this. Ron was mesmerized in the stone that he didn’t notice a shadow standing at the end of woods watching him closely.

Ron’s eyes twitched as he felt a tug in his brain and he felt his blood racing, he noticed the shadow. His left hand reached his wand but the shadow noticed and moved backwards a little.

“HALT!” he yelled and the shadow stopped for a second.

“Don’t move!” he said his wand on person’s back. “Raise your hands!” he ordered and to his surprise the shadow, he can tell is a person, obliged.

He cautiously started walking forwards, he reached a little closer to the person, “Turn around,” he ordered and when the person turned to face him, wind got knocked out of him.

There is a woman, well a beautiful woman, is standing in front of him. Her face looks like she is annoyed at him but their eyes met, he felt something. There is something familiar in those chocolate brown eyes, something familiar, like he had known these eyes for years. Her lips, her face, her hair.

Ron didn’t know why but he feels like that he knew her. It feels warm in his chest as he admired those brown bushy locks.

“What do you want!?”

Ron blinked and blinked again, “Yeah,” he said breaking his reverie and then looked at the woman who has her arms crossed over her chest and she looked really crossed.

He coughed a little, and then cleared his throat. “Um,” he awkwardly glanced at her face and it shows that she wanted answer. “What are you doing here on your own, ma’am?” he asked.

“Why do you think that it is something of your business, Auror?” she snapped. Well Aunt Muriel always said that handsome people are always arrogant. He sighs, wait!? Auror?

“You’re a witch?” he asked.

The woman rolled her eyes, “Yes I am.”

“Then what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice firm and gaze unmoving. He’s an auror.

“I am here for research,” she said.

Ron raised his eyebrow, by the mention of the research he surmised that this woman is a muggle. Obliviating her is the best option but he didn’t want to and the reason is unknown for him. He sighs, as per the protocol he has to obliviate her.

“Don’t even think about it,” the woman said, her eyes flashing. Ron’ s hand which was about to reach his wand stopped in mid-air. He frowned sceptical of this woman’s sharpness.

“Don’t make that face,” she said, “I know you were going to obliviate me.”

Ron’s both eyebrows shot up, “So you’re a witch?” he asked. The woman rolled her eyes, “Took you long enough to figure out,” she said, her voice irked and Ron scowled at her snappish behaviour.

“You should not be here ma’am,” he said, trying to keep his voice gentle and formal. The woman seems on guard. “What is your name?” Ron asked “And what is your purpose to be here?”.

She hesitated to talk, “I am Hermione.” Hermione, the name feels warm. “I came here to visit the old castle of Barnton.”

Castle? He never heard of any castle here in this deep forest of Barnton. “There is a castle auror,” she said as if she knew what was going in his mind. “I didn’t come here for no reason. I had heard the tales and infamous stories of the abandoned Barnton castle which was infamously known as the castle of agony.”

Ron glanced back at the stone he was admiring before and then at the woman standing before him. Her clothing is similar to him, heavy black robes hung till her knees and looking at her face, he can tell she’s in no mood of abandoning her search.

“I am Auror Ron Weasley,” he introduced himself. “This place is not safe for any civilian. I am afraid you would have to return.”

Her eyes went wide of anger when he suggested that. He expected a rant from her, but she didn’t. She turned around and started storming towards the direction he thinks the castle is.

He sighed, he can tell that the woman is stubborn and she won’t leave, he is sure of that, so. “Wait!” he yelled and she stopped in her steps and turned around with a frown plastered on her face. “I know you won’t leave until you find that castle, so let me accompany you. This place is full of smugglers and I can’t leave a civilian roam into this perimeter alone.”

Hermione stared at him, contemplating his word. After a minute of eying him in distrust, she nodded.

She started walking again and this time he is walking with her, though he is four or five steps behind her.

“Why is this castle abandoned?” he asked out of the curiosity. Hermione glanced back and then said, “It was the first castle of Barnton. Nearly eight centuries ago, it was ruled by King Regenweald before it was abandoned.” Hermione said, her voice serene.

Ron noticed many of the stones which he can tell were used to be walls and are just ruins now. “We have just entered its boundaries, Auror Weasley.”

“How come it was abandoned? If it was a castle of a dynasty. Why no one knows about it?” Ron asked.

Hermione sighed, “This castle is haunted as they say,” she said and Ron glanced around them. “It was all because of one woman.”

“A woman?” Ron asked.

Hermione nodded her face solemn, “Long ago when King Regenweald was just a prince, he met a girl. A girl named Elene, who he met during a hunt. They both fell in love with each other the moment their eyes met for the very first time.”

“Elene’s healing techniques were unique and best, many believed that she was a witch and that I think she was.” Hermione rubbed her hands to feel warm as the weather is started to get cold. Ron took out his wand and casted heating charm on both of them. “Thank you,” Hermione said with a smile and Ron returned it. She smiled for the first time and Ron thinks it was a charming smile.

“Then they married, many stories tells that it was one of the most beautiful wedding someone ever had witnessed. They both were so in love and it was celebrated in their kingdom,” they both reached a simple place which seems like a garden, Ron was going to ask Hermione something when he turned towards her, but her eyes are glued on a statue which has been turned dark. Ron can tell the statue is fragile, it had turned dark and many of parts are gone but something has kept this statue alive.

“This is them,” Hermione whispered, “Regenweald and Elene.”

Hermione eyes are shining and Ron didn’t know but he feels that this statue means something to her. Though reluctantly he placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Then what happened?” he asked. Hermione smiled, but sadly. “Elene was a kind queen. Her skilled healing prowess helped er kingdom. Barnton was the happiest place for their people. Their life bloomed when Elene found she is pregnant.”

“But it got tainted,” Hermione said, her voice queer.

“Tainted by what?” Ron asked.

“By blood, by war,” Hermione sighed. “The stories say, that the other kings, who were envious of King Regenweald’s kingdom, believed that Elene was a witch and should be executed. They demanded her to be hanged. King Regenweald protested. He declared an order that whoever touches his wife will face death.”

“The other kings attacked Barnton with their combined armies. Vicious war took place in these grounds. The warriors fought valiantly but faced defeat. On the last day of war King Regenweald lost his life. Elene distraught with her husband’s grief miscarried and lost her child two days after she had lost her husband.”

“She went mad, they say her grief led her to burn down the enemy camps. Nearly every soldier of those kingdoms died at the hand of a grieving wife. She wanted everything back, everything which was stolen away from her. Her agony was killing her alive.”

Hermione went quiet and Ron stares at her with anticipation building inside him. His eyes went towards the statue and searched for face of Elene which was gone.

“Hermione?” Hermione turned her serene eyes towards him, “What happened to Elene?”.

Hermione stared in his eyes, he just realized how much he loves her eyes. “She broke all the limits of magic for her love,” said Hermione. “She practiced or created that magic that even the greatest wizards of that time could not behold. She searched and searched and one day she found the branch of Necromancy.”

Ron’s eyes went wide at the mention of the darkest branch of the magic. “The people of Barnton, now scared of her magic decided to call the spirits of gods to help them. They did the ritual, the sacrifices but no god came to their aid. But one day an old man entered Barnton wailing for help, he was frail and sickly, his whole body covered in boils and his eyes red from crying. He asked for the queen’s help. He begged on the doors of the castle for queen’s help, queen finally came. He begged her, ‘Cureth me, prithee mine own queen and I shall grant any wisheth thee shall asketh me f’r.’

“Elene may be the queen and a witch who had surpassed every branch of magic, but she was a healer first. She cured him with her knowledge, she cured his every derange part of his body. When the time came for the queen to ask the wish, the man transforms into himself into the celestial we all know as death.”

“Death was always cunning,” said Hermione with a grim expression. “Death was impressed. It never expected Elene to help, Death had planned to drag her for playing with rules of nature. But Elene earned it’s respect when she decided to help it.”

“It gave her a choice. Death promised Elene that it will return her husband, but, Elene had to wait. The wait which could last for years, decades or centuries. Death asked her, ‘Can thee waiteth? Can thee survive? Doth thee has’t the strength to cope the t’rture of timeth,”.”

Hermione fell silent after that, Ron stared at her, shaken or lost. After a minute which passed like an hour for Ron he asked, “What did Elene choose?”.

Hermione took a shaky breath and her eyes went towards the statue again. “Elene chose to wait,” she turned her head and the ocean blue drowned in the colour of chocolate brown. “’F’r regenweald, aught.’ Elene told death.”

Ron now realized that he can feel her warm breath on his face as their faces are too close now, “So?” Ron asked quietly as Hermione’s eyes roam over his face, it feels like she is counting freckles on his face.

They both closed the distance and their lips met, it was tender. It feels warm, he had kissed before but not something like this. They both parted, both of their forehead touched as they leaned into each other. Hermione chuckled, “Funny, isn’t it? We barely know each other.”

“I don’t know about you,” he whispers, “But it feels like I had known you for ages.” Hermione stares at him with tender eyes, her hand reaching his cheek and cupping it.

“Hermione?” Ron asked.

“Yes Ron,” she whispered.

“Are you hungry?” he asked with a goofy grin. A smile appeared on Hermione’s face, “I think, I am.”

Ron took a hold of her hand and with a grin he started walking with Hermione. The ruins are as same. The castle which was once there was all gone by time. But in the depth of the land, deep inside there is a chamber. A chamber which was created for her.

On the wall of that chamber there is a huge portrait. The portrait of King Regenweald who was sitting on his throne. His handsome face covered with star like freckles and eyes blue like ocean, his hair flaming red. Behind him was standing his wife Queen Elene, her hair brown and bushy with eyes brown as chocolate and a smile gracing on her face.

The Ron who is walking beside a woman he had just met doesn’t know that he was sent here on a purpose or he was born for this purpose.

▪

She walked with him, admiring every part of his face, he’s not changed even in this life he is that same goofy boy she had fallen in love centuries ago.

Her wait is over. For centuries she was here waiting for him, relieving every memory of him. Her pain is over he is with her, he is here.

Her eyes had watered when she first saw him. Her wait is over, her suffering is over. She walked with him. Ron, the parents who had given birth to him in this life have given him the same name. She thanked them for raising him as the person as he was before.

Elene adores his smile and it feels like a gift after all this time. She is Hermione now, a name she had learned from the time and accepted it for herself.

They both walk hand in hand like the very old times. She noticed a raven, sitting on a branch of a tree watching them keenly under its dark gaze, she meets its eyes and smiled a little, death did not cheat her. Death is not a liar.

Death is Cunning, not coystrill.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron/hermione #tw: mentions of death

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

Text

Of Gorgons And Gardens

Fandom(s) : The Mandalorian and Prospect [2018]

Pairing: The Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader/Ezra

Rating: Holy shit uh. Explicit.

AN: That's right. I've done it. It's time for the sex pollen. This is a standalone that's not involved with either of my previous tales related to these fine boys, so we have a Death Watch-raised Mando that takes the Creed incredibly seriously and an Ezra that's well armed. Also I apologize for the constant viewpoint switches. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @hardcorewwetrash @helplessly-nonstop @lackofhonor @oloreaa @theocatkov @jackierey09 @zombiexbody @crookedmoonsaultpunk @pedrosbigdorkenergy @absurdthirst @culturalrebel

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For obligatory dubious consent due to sex pollen, as well as threesome activities, breeding kink and gratuitous bodily fluids. Stay safe!]

The quarry was named Ezra. Not that their name mattered, the chain code was freshly generated. The strangest part was that there had been no image attached to the puck.

Din had tipped his helmet to the side, narrowing his eyes and tapping the bounty puck curiously. "Somethin' wrong with this?"

Karga shook his head. "No, he's just too slick for us to have any holorecords on him. Somebody from Bakhroma wants him alive."

Undocumented quarry was exceptionally rare, and not usually something that one requested a Mandalorian for. It indicated green prey, a first-time offender. "Bakhroma, huh? Pretty far out." He wasn't an idiot. There had to be a reason why Karga had offered him this one specifically.

"Guy apparently walked off with a majority of someone's aurelac pull. Typical floater squabble, but one of them ponied up the mining points for credits and asked for a certified, card-carryin' Mando." Karga had leaned back in the booth. "How's the kid?"

Din had just grunted noncommittally in reply, gloved fingers scooping the puck off the table. "I have to get back to the Crest."

…

"The target has been on Bakhroma relatively recently. Not sure if he was in the Green or not, but either way he'll probably be a walking biohazard." Mando muttered, turning his head towards you. "So you're staying put."

"Until something happens to you and I have to pull you out of the fire again." You retorted with a smirk.

"Hey, that was one time." You knew he was narrowing his eyes, though you weren't quite sure how you knew. Something about the way he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right clued you in.

"You were full of nexu quills."

"One. Time." The Mandalorian growled. "I even said thank you."

"You sure did," You replied, laughing. "Right before you passed out!"

He palmed over the side of your head roughly. "Brat." His grumble was fond, softening the edge of the insult. "Promise me you'll stay on the Crest, Senaar, otherwise I'll ask Omera to take you and the kid for an extended sleepover."

"Fine, I promise." You relented, huffing in annoyance.

He tinkered with his charts for a moment, then tilted his head again. "Where did you go earlier? I got done with Karga hours ago. Couldn't find you."

You stiffened, abruptly absorbed in checking the fuel levels. "Oh you know. Around." You said breezily.

"Well in the future, when you feel like going around, at least let me know so I don't think you've been abducted." Mando grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"Aw, you're cute when you care!" You cooed, making him scoff and return to his control panel.

…

In hindsight, he wasn't sure what he was more pissed off about. The fact that this Ezra character had led him on a wild fucking chase over half of a suspiciously verdant moon, or the fact that his brain had apparently decided to shift into overdrive regarding you. He couldn't get you off…

Get you off his mind, that is. Stars, he was so confused.

He felt like he had been walking in circles for hours, the only noise the steady beep of the tracker. He was too hot. Thirsty. His armor was chafing like it never had before; it was less like an extension of his body and more like a too-tight skin he needed to shed. Din finally bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"You look like shit," drawled an unfamiliar voice while a set of knuckles rapped on the back of his helmet. Djarin jerked upright and immediately staggered, fumbling to grip a tree trunk for support. His vision swam uncertainly, and he blinked several times in an effort to clear it.

The man in front of him was clad in a utilitarian suit that bore an unfamiliar logo, maybe a mining corporation. No duraplast or durasteel visible, no unnecessary frills, old-fashioned rubber gaskets to seal where glove met sleeve. Din's gaze traveled upwards, past the man's chest to his large domed helmet. He kept his motions deliberate. He had been caught off-guard by this man, but he wouldn't--

What?!

"I'll assume you're encroaching upon my solitude to haul my undesirable personage back into civilized spaces?" The man inquired after Din had taken several long seconds to try and understand what he was seeing. "For monetary compensation, if I had to hazard a guess. There are few lures that tempt a man so far out into the uncharted."

Why does he have my face? Sure, the scars were different. Different facial hair, different hairstyle, and a wild little tuft of blond sprang from amidst the dark locks at his hairline. But it was him. Same brown eyes, same nose, same mouth curving into an infuriatingly benign smirk. Djarin was struck with the sudden urge to punch him, his belly writhing.

"I take it the dust has you firm in its grip. A real pity, that. I'd love to sympathize, but regrettably I am at an advanced state of the same condition." The quarry gestured at his right arm, where a bloodstain blooming on the fabric of his suit indicated a loss of the integrity of said suit. "I'm Ezra, though I'm certain you're already well aware. And you?"

"Irrelevant." Din grated out, clumsy fingers fumbling to get his binders off his belt.

"A man of action, excellent! I shall acquiesce, but only because being removed from this Centaurian mass is infinitely better than being confined to it." Ezra replied with a sage nod, extending his wrists. "Whither to, my recalcitrant steerforth?"

"Be quiet." The Mandalorian grunted, his mind still reeling. How does he have my face? Then, a new, far more troubling thought occurred to him.

If he turned Ezra in, people would inadvertently know what he looked like. They wouldn't know, but they would know. What would that mean for him? For his dedication to the Creed? Did things like that count against him? Had something like this ever happened before?

"Tell me you, at the bare minimum, have functional transport?" Ezra asked after Din had relieved him of his blaster, sounding hopeful. It was so strange hearing his own voice with such an odd, imprecise cadence to it. The Mandalorian had worked for years to improve his Basic so that anyone and everyone would be able to understand him through the coarse modulator, though he still ended up sounding hitchy or curt most of the time.

"How else would I have gotten here?" Din snapped, gesturing the other man forward with the encouragement of his own weapon.

At least now he knew how to get back to the Crest, thank the Maker for his helmet and the tracking protocols he had. Now, observing his previous path of forward motion, he realized with a jolt how much it wound back and forth. He had been walking in circles.

Since when did he lose his sense of direction? Even in unknown territory, he usually had a damn good idea of which end was up. That concerned him.

And on top of everything else, Ezra wouldn't shut the hell up.

"Be quiet." Din muttered for what seemed like the thousandth time. How long had they been walking? Probably his own fault. With how much his head was spinning, he didn't dare deviate from the winding trail he had left. Even if a straight path would have been miles quicker.

Ezra continued to drone, "a toilsome marathon of carnage, I assure-"

"I said, be fucking quiet."

The target huffed out a breath, but obliged Djarin's terse demand for the moment. Din's head was pounding, his already short fuse shrinking with every word out of the talkative man's mouth. Was this the Maker's hysterically ironic way of compensating for how little a solitary Mandalorian would speak? Making a doppelganger that was ceaselessly chatty?

Din talked a lot more these days, between you and the kid. Maker, you. His head swam again and a low, guilty heat throbbed in his belly. You talking to him, the way your mouth moved around your words-

No. No, stop, he told himself sternly, two fingers sliding idly between the gasket and gorget at his throat just so he could breathe a little easier. This planet's air felt thick, like breathing through tar.

"I would not indulge that craving, were I you." Ezra spoke up, the man obviously watching him claw at his neck. "The less exposure you have, the better."

Din wanted to snap at him because honestly how many times do I have to say shut the fuck up-

But then he stopped. Since when did he even do things like breach the seal of his own fucking helmet on an unfamiliar planet?! He flinched, tearing his hand away and hating the low, wry chuckle that issued from the quarry. The other man mused, "It's already too late for me, you know. I imagine I'll have an hour, perhaps two."

"What the hell are you talking about now."

"The dust, my armored associate. It permeates. Sludges the mental processes." Ezra shrugged with only one shoulder. "Among other things."

"How do you know so much about it?" Din gritted his teeth against the buzzing pain in his stomach. "Seems pretty stupid of you to hide out here." Especially if you know the flora is deadly.

"There is naught to do on a freighter slingback aside from read." Ezra's eyes narrowed. "And I could hardly pick and choose which moon my pod decided to give out on, you monosyllabic knuckle-dragger."

"Watch your mouth before I break it." Din snarled.

"Lo and behold, he comprehends! I assumed all you knew how to say was a stagnant variation on the theme of be fucking quiet." Ezra retorted with enraging cheer.

Din's gloves creaked with the tension of his fists and he barely kept from slamming them into his temples. They were almost to the Crest. Almost. Once they got there, he would throw this mouthy nerf herder into the carbonite and…

And what? And turn him over? And inadvertently compromise his whole identity, possibly destroy decades of loyally obeying the Creed?

All the deprivation, the loneliness, the weakness of his own heart...

"Be fucking quiet." The Mandalorian muttered, knowing full well that the other man hadn't said anything. Be fucking quiet. Be fucking quiet quiet quiet just fucking be quiet--

Din ground the heels of his palms against the curve of his helmet at his forehead, praying for some kind of relief.

Carbonite, he reminded himself.

…

Ezra grudgingly held his tongue, which even he had to admit was a rarity. Unlike the other floaters that had approached him before and met their swift demise, this particular bounty hunter was heavily kitted. The gleaming plate he sported didn't seem to hinder his motion in the slightest.

Interesting.

Ezra knew when he had been outplayed, and he would be lying if he said he wasn't banking on the other man having a functional ship even before he decided to go peacefully.

The hunter (mentally dubbed Steerforth, he rudely had not introduced himself) obviously had no idea about the pollen, for all his outward preparedness. Clearly Serpentia was not as well known as Ezra had wished.

Regrettable.

He could hope that the bounty hunter hadn't been exposed, he mused. After all, the man was wearing that positively arresting helmet, and his suit seemed of a sturdy (if unfamiliar) weave. Here was an individual that Ezra would have to tread carefully around, if he wished to escape with his life.

His faith waned a bit as he recalled watching the man 'track' him, winding back and forth through the trees like a drunken mule until Ezra had taken pity on him and turned himself in.

The hunter was terse in his speech, likely weary from the chase. Ezra could sympathize, he was weary from running. It had almost been a relief when that last hunter had attacked him and forced him to crash the pod on this moon. Though his relief had quickly turned to dismay when Ezra had done a full turn outside his pod and realized just what was making all the pollen in the air.

Serpentia, Serpent's Tongue. He had never encountered the plant in the proverbial flesh, but once upon a time he had been accidentally doused with the extract when a holding tank had burst while he was on a job site.

His skin crawled as he remembered the torment that followed during his solitary confinement. He had been nigh-certain he would not recover, clawing free of the haze that had gripped him with the barest vestiges of his mental faculties.

This moon's Serpentia population seemed infinitely kinder than the concentrate he had encountered, if only for its soft, creeping approach. It lapped at the base of his brain, dulled the edge of his panic until he was nearly comfortable with the ache that licked hot in his groin.

But thank Kevva for this bounty hunter lumbering through the brush! With a little luck, Ezra would be able to persuade him to accept a few pearls of aurelac in lieu of dragging him back to face that greatly-exaggerated justice.

...

According to the limited information from the Crest's scans, the air on this moon was perfectly safe to breathe.

And if what Mando had said was right, he probably would need the ship to himself for a little while to decontaminate. So you had posted up beside the ramp once he had departed, occasionally wiping the sweat off your brow. The atmosphere was humid and you watched as breezes too delicate for you to even feel nudged the thick pollen in the air this way and that.

The moon was liberally coated with lush vegetation; just finding a place to safely land the Razor Crest had been a Herculean effort. You wondered vaguely if there was a lake or spring nearby that you would be able to cool off in. The ship's fresher was functional, of course, but its water had been sitting in the holding tank for a few cycles now and it smelled rusty.

The pollen covered everything, orange-red substance sticking to your already-damp skin. You grimaced, wondering if maybe you should have put on your suit. But no, the atmosphere was safe. The scans had said so, and you already spent so much of your time in your thick suit…

The sunshine felt wonderful after all the hyperspace travel, like a warm embrace from a friend. You caught yourself wondering what Mando's hug might feel like. Probably uncomfortable, what with all the beskar. You scoffed at your thoughts. You really needed to stop thinking about him like that, he was technically your boss even if he called you his partner. So what if he had passed out on top of you? That had been an infection thing.

It wasn't as if he had stroked your cheek before he dropped, his voice breaking when he called you Senaar...

So what if you had solicited not one, but two Mandalorians during your last stop on Nevarro?

It wasn't as if he noticed anything that you did, aside from when it had inconvenienced him. It wasn't as if you couldn't handle your little infatuation with him, even if it did result in you seeking out Mandos that would give you attention.

You propped your chin up on your hand, your eyes half-focusing on the dust floating in the air. It was nice to just relax for once, though there was a little guilty sensation in your stomach. Because Mando was out there working, while you...were lounging around, soaking up the sunlight.

You weren't sure how long you sat there, but you finally got up with a groan and a stretch that felt heavenly. You would investigate the surrounding area, you decided, maybe you could rustle up something fresh. If you couldn't be active on the hunt for the quarry, you could at least restock the larders.

After what only felt like a few steps, you quickly stumbled across thick vines that bore an unfamiliar, violet-hued fruit. The fruit was the size of your fist, and the skin had slight give to it. Light-colored flowers dotted the vine here and there, their tiny stamens crested with heavy crowns of thick pollen. Clearly you had located one of the many sources of the dust that choked the air.

You picked one of the fruits and propped it up on a flat rock, using your trusty field knife to slice it open. It had orange pulp inside it, and a small hollow in the middle filled with pinkish fluid. The whole fruit reminded you of a sunset. Dimly, you thought that you probably shouldn't be touching this fruit with your bare skin, on the off chance that it might be caustic or toxic. But it looked delicious.

Surely just a little taste wouldn't hurt?

The pinkish fluid was almost overwhelmingly sweet, and sticky. It dribbled down your chin when you tipped the fruit to slurp it up. You laughed at yourself, tugging your tunic to scrub at your face.

Mando will love these.

You weren't sure where the thought came from, but obviously it was true. The idea of Mando being alone, slipping off his helmet to eat...the juice from the fruit glistening on his mouth…

Your breathing had quickened. You carefully harvested more of the round fruit, tucking the ripe produce into the makeshift cradle of your tunic. Once you decided you had enough, you turned on your heel and went to make your way back to the Crest.

...

No.

No no no no no-

Din stared at the partially-ajar ramp on the Crest and he wanted to yell.

"Oh dear." Ezra murmured faintly. "What a predicament." He had been getting quieter and quieter the closer they drew to the ship, so hearing him talk again sent a jolt down Din's spine. "You left your egress open? How careless of you."

"I didn't." Din snarled, wrapping his fingers around the binders on Ezra's wrists. You. The throbbing in his stomach lurched.

Ezra's eyes widened and he abruptly planted his feet. Din hadn't realized just how off-kilter he was, normally something like a shift in weight wouldn't be enough to make him stagger. But he almost toppled, barely getting his balance back in time. "Is there someone else on that ship?" Ezra asked sharply.

"Of course." Din didn't even think to lie. "Partner."

"Would they have wandered? Exposed themselves?" The prospector-thief-quarry continued to quiz him and Din resented it just a little.

"Be quiet," He grunted, tapping at his gauntlet to open the ramp, "and get in the fucking hold."

Ezra abruptly drew himself up to his full height. "I do not believe you actually want me to do that." He intoned with difficulty, his teeth gritted. "Putting myself, yourself and the potential of one more infected person into an enclosed space is a very…" His words faltered. "Oh."

Din whirled, visor traveling up the ramp into the dim hold. And just barely visible at the edge of the ramp, a small pile of what looked like fruit--was that your leg?! He lunged forward, his blaster ready.

"I would not advise you to approach them!" Ezra barked.

"Fuck you!" Din snapped, striding up the ramp to kneel alongside your body. He crushed one of the fruits beneath his knee, lurid pink juice erupting to soak into his suit. The color was high in your cheeks, your body blotchy with flush. Pollen encrusted your neck and shoulders, drifted through your hair; something pink and shiny coated your lips like a strange gloss.

Din caught himself leaning in and jerked back at the urgency in Ezra's voice when the prospector called, "Do they breathe, man?"

"Be quiet!" Djarin roared. Why hadn't he checked that first? What was wrong with him? He shoved his vambrace against your mouth, his chest clenching in relief when your breath fogged the metal. Stars.

"I'm afraid this complicates things quite significantly." Ezra said loudly, fidgeting at the base of the ramp. "I was unaware you had a partner of the...other biological persuasion. Had it just been you and I, two masculine-presenting bipeds, things would have been miles simpler."

"What the hell are you saying now?" Din was getting tired of this shit, tired of listening to the other man talk.

"This plant is...shall we say, heteronormative." Ezra drawled, waving his bound hands in the air to illustrate the cloying pollen. Din cocked his head in confusion. "You know, masculine and feminine? Male and female? Different. Hetero."

Djarin scoffed derisively. "My people don't care about that shit."

"A noble practice to be certain, very forward-thinking."

"This is the Way." The Mandalorian replied.

Ezra soldiered on, "Unfortunately, the plant that infests this planet does indeed differentiate. Fruit for the female, pollen for the male." He added hurriedly, "in the biological sense, of course! I will not make any assumptions about your partner. The fruit is a...a catalyst. Are you familiar with the old-Earth religious writings, the ones that mention the Garden? Or perhaps the Greek pantheon may have been more your style?" When Djarin shook his head, Ezra sighed. "The genus name in Basic is slippin' my mind. But this particular iteration is known as Serpent's Tongue, Serpentia. It is Medusine in nature and it inspires feelings of…" Ezra paused, licking his lips nervously. "Heat."

"Heat." Din repeated blankly, knowing that he must be missing something.

Ezra ducked his head, breaking eye contact. "As in, being in heat." The man clarified after a moment.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm-"

"Excuse me?" Din snarled, running his fingers through the juices that coated his knee. It was thick, sticky like syrup, why was it warm--He bolted to his feet and stalked back down the ramp. Ezra took a step back, and then another, the quarry obviously wary of him. Good. The satisfied feeling took some of the edge off his frustrated panic. "So what the hell is wrong with my partner?" Din grated out.

"Er, to couch it in layman's terms…" Ezra hesitated, clearing his throat. "They are aroused."

Aroused. Aroused. Aroused. "Sexually?" Din hated the way the word came out, all breathy like he was a youngling that had just learned about the wonders of copulation.

Ezra nodded, grimacing. "From the sound of your tone, I would hazard a guess that the two of you have not been intimate."

"Why would we have been?" Din retorted bluntly.

Ezra raised an eyebrow, seeming as if he was avoiding looking at you. Good. Mine. Din had no idea where the hell that thought came from. "Oh of course, I was foolish to assume so blatantly." The prospector muttered. "That does complicate your own matters further, however. Were you previously sexually intertwined, this would have been much more simple." He suddenly doubled over at the waist, a loud grunt forced from his mouth and a low exclamation of, "fuck, fuck-"

The curse sent a hot flicker down Din's spine and it took him a second to realize that you had made a noise in reply. You sounded dazed, scared. He whirled on the ramp and knelt again, taking your hand. "Senaar, you coming around?" Your eyes looked...wrong, blinking open slowly; your pupils were blown like you'd been spiced.

You stared up at him for several long seconds before your mouth opened. "Wanted to make lunch." You managed to say. "I don't feel good."

"Well, you don't look so great either." Din said gruffly.

"Bastard." You groaned at him, trying to sit up. "Maker, I feel so hot, I...oh! Oh no, you smushed one." You appeared to have noticed the remains of the sticky fruit currently seeping into his knee. "I wanted you to try it. Tastes...tastes...it's so sweet Mando, s'like candy." You saying his name (even if it wasn't his actual name, shit) was like a lightning bolt to his groin. You dragged your hand over his knee, gathering up the remnants of the fruit and then sliding your fingers into your mouth.

You brought him food. His lungs felt too full and not full enough. Stars, the idea of you feeding him that, smearing it all over his mouth with those pretty little fingers-

No, the helmet. The helmet. He couldn't take off the helmet. The Creed.

He jerked his head up, looking to Ezra. The other man was still doubled over, holding his midsection as best as he could with his hands bound.

A dark, uncharacteristically evil thought wound its way into Din's mind, sweet and smokey like a good ne'tra gal. "Get in the ship." He grunted. Ezra glanced up and Din was a little startled by the level of emotion he displayed. He wasn't used to seeing expressions play out on his own face. The other man seemed wildly uncomfortable and Din found that grounding, for whatever reason.

"I do not dare to." Ezra panted finally. "Just being this close is...immensely troubling. I am not the master of my own body at this moment, Steerforth."

"Is this the target?" You asked softly. Din nodded and he could almost feel your eyes raking over the other man. "What happened? He's hurt."

Shit, he had nearly forgotten. Ezra was still bleeding from his arm. The quarry had obviously forgotten as well, clearly dealing with a much more pressing matter.

You beckoned to the other man and Din had to rein in the knee-jerk reaction to grab his blaster as Ezra reluctantly approached. He had never been territorial about you before, what the hell was the matter with him?

Ezra halted a good five feet away from you, keeping his head down. "I am Ezra. I apologize in advance for my untoward behavior." He muttered, his voice gone so low and gravelly he actually did sound like Din. The Mandalorian's stomach pitched uncertainly. "I am not myself at this point in time."

"What happened to your arm?" Your tone was warm, concerned. Din's fists clenched. "Did Mando do that?"

"Oh, no! Of course not. Your compatriot has been nothing if not a complete gentleman." Ezra replied wryly. "I sustained this injury during a previous floater's quarrel."

…

You hummed and you saw Mando stiffen up out of the corner of your eye. What was wrong with him? One second he had been leaning over you, all worry and hand holding. The next, he was barking at the quarry.

And the quarry was hurt. Ezra, Ezra, his slow drawl making your head swim and your chest tingle. Never mind Mando, what was wrong with you? You felt so strange, like you were hyper-fixated.

Maker, maybe you shouldn't have eaten that fruit. "I'm sorry." You apologized to Mando, your lower lip beginning to quiver. "I just wanted to give-"

"Be quiet." He ordered, his voice startlingly gentle. A gloved thumb pressed to your lower lip and you stared up at him, opening your mouth automatically even though you knew he was just wiping the juice away. You were startled when he slid his thumb into your mouth, but you obligingly cleaned the juice from the leather with your tongue. Shouldn't this be strange? But Mando just did it, like it was normal. Maybe it was normal.

Your mind flew back to your sultry encounter on Nevarro, how you had occupied yourself while Mando wrapped up his business with the Guild, and warmth lanced through your stomach as you recalled greedy gloved hands grasping and caressing your bare skin-

"Steerforth, if you are to carry on in that heated demonstration I must plead for the carbonite treatment that you were so hellbent on throwing myself into earlier." Ezra sounded like he was in pain. "I have only endured this once before and it was a torment that threatened my already-tenuous sanity. Have fucking mercy man, I implore-"

"Be quiet." Mando snapped, "we have to treat your arm, right?"

"Fuck." Ezra swore again, the sound writhing through your belly. "Hurry then."

"Get in the ship. I'll turn on the filters."

"Do not leave me alone with them, I implore you!" Ezra cried, that domed helmet finally tilting enough for you to catch a glimpse of his face. "I am not the master of my own body, Steerforth."

His eyes were dark, impossibly dark, and frantic as he argued with Mando. His skin seemed tanned or olive through the sun-struck dome of his suit's helmet. Short brown hair was plastered flat to his forehead with sweat, and the lower half of his face was coated in a somewhat unkempt mess of facial scruff. Too long to be five o'clock shadow, but too bedraggled to be dubbed anything else.

Roguish, you decided, wanting to laugh at yourself. He looks roguish. What a ridiculous thought to have! Not obviously dangerous like Mando, but still dangerous. Was that your heartbeat throbbing in your ears? You sighed softly, taking a step towards the other man without meaning to.

Mando's hand was suddenly on your arm. "Hold it. Treatment. We have to treat his wound." He said gruffly.

You nodded. Of course. Who knew what he had been exposed to through the breach in his suit? "I was going to help him walk?"

Mando shook his head. "You get the kit. You've got no gear on. He's contaminated." He reasoned. "Get me the kit and then seal yourself into the cockpit so we can filter the hold." You nodded again and his hand found your cheek, gloved fingers grazing your neck before he jerked back. "S...Sorry." he apologized.

"It's okay." You whispered.

…

Ezra, helmet discarded and suit stripped to the waist, flinched away from Din's touch yet again. "Stop. This is a bad wound. It'll get infected if I do this wrong." Din snapped. He rarely encountered blaster wounds that didn't self-cauterize, even though that tended to come with its own set of problems.

"I do not mean to tear free." Ezra protested. "Blood flow has increased. I am…" He paused, biting his lower lip. "Sensitive. Surely you have a handheld? One of the burners? Just burn it shut man, Kevva, I cannot even endure the graze of your fingers."

"If I give you a burner patch, it'll seal in the infection." Din reasoned, flushing the wound again. "Focus on something else."

"I cannot." Ezra said sharply. "There is only one matter my brain currently wishes to focus on, and it is not the dire straits of my wounded arm."

"Them?" Din asked, keeping his voice low.

Ezra shot him a guilty look from beneath his sweat-matted fringe of brown hair, finally nodding. "It is ludicrous, but I feel as though I can taste them." He confessed. "Gods, I wish I had never landed on this accursed moon. I wish I had never encountered the Serpentia."

"What will happen?" Din did his best to maintain his vocal level as he bandaged the other man's wound.

"Arousal. Sheer, unadulterated arousal. You ache, like the worst fever you've ever had. I've heard it is even more excruciatin' for those of the other human biological persuasion, due to their genitals being internal. Though it is Medusine in nature, so it has a...failsafe, of sorts. You are seized with the primal instinct to mate, conquer, claim. It does not stop until you have buried your...until you have sheathed yourself in an orifice." Ezra was gasping for air. Obviously just talking about it was enough to cause him distress, either that or Djarin was being rougher than he thought. "Steerforth please, I-"

"This will cause them pain?" Din asked slowly.

Ezra nodded jerkily. "I have been told it's like a sickly, stabbing heat. Fingers are not enough to…er, extinguish the flames." His cheeks flushed. "The tongue soothes, but not overlong. Internals require certain length, and...rigidity." Din didn't miss the way his eyes flickered down to the beskar that covered his upper thighs. "When last I encountered this damned flora, I suffered the effects alone and I felt as if I would go mad."

Tongue. Fingers. Rigidity. Din's mind reeled. "Specifics." He gritted out, his body awash with heat in his armor when Ezra made a pitiful noise.

"Kevva, have mercy on me Steerforth."

"I said. Specifics." Din fisted a glove in the other man's hair, tilting his head back and forcing him to look up. Ezra moved, albeit reluctantly, the Adam's apple of his throat bobbing when he swallowed. "Specifics." Din repeated himself, a little softer this time.

Ezra shuddered all over. "They will seek you out. To be fucked." He said, cringing a bit as if he disliked using the word. "You must open them up with your tongue first, dissolve the Medusine barrier with saliva. That's the failsafe, you see, an individual of that biological persuasion who is suffering cannot be penetrated without tender effort. Ease into it and perhaps they will not loathe you when this madness has run its course-"

"I can't." Din interrupted.

"What?" Ezra gawked at him.

"I can't. T-Tongue. Not allowed. Forbidden." Din felt like he was drunk. "Helmet."

The other man's brow furrowed. "You can, I presume, take off other portions of your plate?"

Din shook his head, wishing that he could explain it better. "Technically yes, but it's frowned upon. Exceptions happen. And under no circumstances can I take the helmet off."

"How in the Fringe have you ever-"

"I...inspire feelings in people." That was probably the most delicate way he could have said I cater exclusively to bipeds with a predator/prey fetish. Din grimaced. "I'm large and imposing. Usually that's...enough. No need for warm up." He said awkwardly. "Armor stays on."

"What a bewildering existence!" Ezra tilted his head in disbelief. "So you have never removed…?"

Din shook his head. "Not in the presence of others. The Creed forbids it."

"Your dedication is admirable, but unfortunately it leaves your partner twisting in the wind." The quarry pointed out. "I would offer my services, but I am an unknown and-"

"Yes." Din gritted out, that dark thought slithering back through his mind.

"Yes?"

"Your services." Din took a deep breath. He didn't bargain with quarry, but this man had his face. He couldn't turn him in without jeopardizing everything he had sworn his life to. "In exchange, when this is...when they no longer require your services, I'll let you go."

Ezra's eyebrows bunched together. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Steerforth."

"I don't want them to be in pain." Din's voice grated in his throat and he watched Ezra's eyes widen in comprehension. "I don't want them to hurt."

"You...this is not just the Serpentia. You have a prior attachment to them."

"It doesn't matter what I do or don't have." Djarin muttered dismissively. "Because of the Creed, I...I can't. But you can."

"You can't give them your mouth, certainly, but there are-"

"If it's what makes it possible, you have to do it!" Din interjected sharply. "I don't want them to hurt."

"I need you to comprehend what you're askin' of me!" Ezra shot back, his bound fists clenched tight enough to whiten his knuckles. "They don't know me from Job, and you're all but demanding I violate their trust-"

"I don't want them to hurt!" Din roared, startling himself with his own furious reaction. Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by your staggering descent on the ladder. You looked unwell. Ezra skittered back a few steps, falling on his ass with a muffled swear.

"Mando?" Your voice wavered and you swayed at the ladder. Din lurched forward, tucking you into his arms as you sniffled, "I don't feel so good. I think I'm sick." You were radiating heat that he could feel even through his suit. Your tunic was soaked with sweat.

"Osi'kyr." Din cursed under his breath after he swapped to his infrared and saw just how brilliant your signature was. "Listen to me, alright Senaar?" He murmured, simultaneously loving and hating the way you nodded in a docile manner. "We know what can fix this. But it's not…" he paused, searching for the right term.

"Appropriate." Ezra supplied loudly.

"I feel awful." Your whimper made Din's stomach ache. His cock rubbed against the confines of his compression leggings.

Ignore it.

"I know you do." Din pressed his palm to your forehead. "Listen to me. We can fix this. You trust me, right?" Your nod was immediate and Din barely stifled his groan. "Ezra knows what's wrong. Ezra can help."

"He can help?" You echoed blearily, looking past Din. "Okay. He said something about the fruit before, right? I shouldn't have eaten it. M'sorry. Was it poison?"

"Poison may have been simpler to endure." Ezra muttered. "It is an aphrodisiac. Do not blame yourself. The fruit is visually appealing for a reason, otherwise the plant would not be able to propagate."

…

Aphrodisiac. Your mouth was flooded with that sweet taste at the sound of Ezra's drawling voice, the groan that followed burrowing into your blood.

You had never felt this way before. Your body ached and twisted, arousal pooling uncomfortably in your pelvis. Everything felt like it was trapped, your tunic sticking to your skin with sweat. Aphrodisiac.

"Please pay attention." Ezra sighed. "I understand this is incredibly distracting, but I have a limited window of coherence." He was trembling slightly, still avoiding your eyes. "Your partner has requested I aid you where he cannot. I will not harm you." He said with gravity. "This is a situation which bodes exceptionally poorly and I am...I am truly sorry for dragging you into this mess."

"Oh, it's okay. Mando gets me into messes all the time." You brushed off his apology and Ezra choked out a bitter laugh.

"I fear you may change your tune once the pain truly starts." He remarked.

"He says it'll hurt." Mando murmured. "Like stabbing."

You knew your eyes widened with fear because Mando was quick to envelope you in his arms again. He had never been this touchy before. It was...strangely nice. The coolness of his armor felt wonderful on your skin and you moaned in relief. Mando went stiff at your noise, his gloved fingers clutching the nape of your neck. Up until this point, you had just felt some minor throbbing. Distracting, but negligible.

This was different.

...

Your breath hitched in your throat and your fists curled into his suit, knees buckling as a low, wavering cry left your lips. Din jerked at the sound. He had never heard you make that kind of noise before, not even when you had been shot--

Oh he was fucked. He was so fucked. Was he excited or terrified? "Easy, you're okay, you're okay," he soothed, clumsily brushing the hair back from your face. Who was he even trying to convince?!

"Make your choice expediently, Steerforth. Am I to be thrown in carbonite or put to work?" Ezra queried through gritted teeth.

"You know I would never do anything to hurt you." Din said to you, ignoring the other man for the moment. "I won't let anything happen to you. I need you to trust me for right now, alright? We can fix this."

Your grip on him tightened even further. "I don't like how this feels." You whispered.

Din closed his eyes in a futile attempt to ward off his own self-loathing, pressing your cheek against his breastplate. "I know, Senaar. I'll be right here with you. I just...can't give you what you'll need." He stuttered, offering on a desperate whim, "I-I can hold you, if you want." You nodded frantically into his armor.

"If you have a...a blanket. A sheet. Something for the floor, we are going to make a mess and I am uncertain if we will be able to protect your partner's modesty." Ezra muttered, his bound hands resting surreptitiously over his groin. "They may be more enthusiastic than one would anticipate."

Din patted your elbow, trying to gentle his voice. "Go get your pillow."

"O-Okay." You gulped.

Din tore into one of his many lockers once you released him, the armored man frantically digging around for his extra bedding. Ezra staggered to his feet, moving in close to Din. So that you wouldn't hear him speak, no doubt.

"There is still time for you to freeze me, Steerforth. I am not a man without morality, tattered though it may be." He murmured, and Din noticed that his weary brown eyes were surrounded by the same deep lines and cracks that Djarin's own face sported. The Mandalorian hadn't ever paid much mind to just how many expressions he still made beneath the helmet, probably because he knew no one would see them.

Din grabbed the other man's shoulder, searching those eyes. Ezra stared at his impenetrable visor, probably confused by his silence. "I need your help." Din rasped seriously. He didn't trust this guy as far as he could throw him, but he could live with the uneasy truce if it would…if it meant that he could…

Stars, this was all so damn wrong.

Ezra finally nodded. "I will do my best to assist with the...emotional aftermath. This is not your fault, or theirs. This is merely an unfortunate side effect of a hazardous occupation."

"Thank you."

Ezra's eyebrows shot up, but other than that he gave no indication of his surprise. Din elbowed him to the side, unfolding the thick blanket and spreading it out carefully on the floor of the hold.

…

This was certainly an odd predicament.

Ezra could not say he had ever been in such a charged scenario, despite his checkered history. His jaw worked thoughtfully as he watched the armored man devote an obscene amount of care to smoothing the wrinkles out of his blanket.

Arousal swirled around him like the thick pollen outside, but it was tempered by the terrible memory of that singular past experience where he had rubbed himself bloody on the inside of his suit. He knew he was worse off than Steerforth. No, what had you called him? Mando.

Curious.

A Creed that prevented the devout from showing the world their face.

Curious. And familiar, somehow. Ezra spooled his mind back, trying to recall why it was familiar. He couldn't focus however, his own breathing becoming too distracting.

Mando hadn't gotten nearly as much of the pollen as him. The other man seemed unbearably, impossibly calm in the light of what was about to occur. Maybe it was an illusion afforded by that unreadable helm, or brought about by his lack of prior experience.

Ezra was wildly jealous all the same. "What is their name?" He asked softly.

Mando fixed him with a look and Kevva, that helmet was indeed imposing. "I call them Senaar. It...it means bird." He sounded reluctant, like he didn't even want to give up that much. "Names are sacred in the Creed. I couldn't give them mine so they didn't give me theirs, but I had to call them something."

"No names in the Creed, either?" Ezra asked incredulously.

The armored man shook his head. "To outsiders we are all Mando. To us, we are Mando'ade. This is the Way."

"A veritable legion of nameless, featureless warriors." Ezra muttered, mainly to himself. He rattled his restraints after a moment. "Am I to remain bound during this frotfest, Steerforth?"

"I'm not stupid enough to give you free range. Be grateful I didn't secure them behind your back instead." Mando snarked.

"I will not harm your little bird." Ezra protested.

"I know." Mando leaned in slightly, broad shoulders made even more intimidating by the blue-steel pauldrons that graced them. "I would kill you before you got the chance."

Oh, such confidence! Ezra wished he was in his right mind, he would obliterate this smug cretin--

His breath caught in his throat as you returned from your excursion. Gods, he had nearly forgotten what he was being called to do. He warred with the obscene urge that dragged his gaze to the crux of your thighs. "A divine sight." He murmured, not lying for once. This entire day had been remarkably truthful.

You actually gave him a ribald wink, and that eased his conscience slightly. Perhaps you were not the unsullied, blushing virgin he had feared you might be. Obviously you had used the time you took to grab your pillow wisely, maybe even given yourself a bit of a pep talk.

"Have you done this before?" Ezra asked, half-joking. He heard Mando audibly gulp in that damn bucket when you nodded, a pained smile curving your lips. "Not under the effects of such altering substances, I pray?"

"Nah, nothing like that." You replied, shaking your head. "It was back on Nevarro, I-"

"Nevarro?" Mando hissed. "You disappeared on me for hours. That's what you were up to?!"

You shrugged weakly. "It doesn't really matter but...there were two Mandalorians, and I wanted, um, something that seemed familiar, I guess." You admitted, your tone remarkably cool for the subject matter.

Ezra hid his grin. He was hardly immune to the allure of saucy gossip, and there was nothing quite like gossip that had no particular bearing on him. "Two?!" The armored man's voice squeaked even through the thick modulation and Ezra burst out laughing, the binders knocking his jaw when he tried to stifle his mirth.

"I meant more whether you had engaged in copulation in general, but I suppose that would have been a pertinent question as well." He mused once he got himself under control, the low buzz in his stomach blossoming into an excited thrum. "How fortunate that you would be so generous when it comes to your partners, little bird."

"What do you mean, familiar?" Mando carried on over him, obviously agitated by the fresh knowledge that his partner may or may not have some...tendencies. Ezra almost wanted to laugh again; you were nothing if not painfully transparent. Seeking out others like the armored man to have their way with you? Clearly you harbored some sort of affection, kept secret and safe by the walls that humans build around themselves.

But Serpentia had a funny way of sliding that dastardly pink slick through all defenses, leaving the body raw and exposed.

"I mean familiar." You replied, your pillow like a shield between yourself and Mando. Ezra settled back to watch the show, well aware that his smirk was probably insufferable. "I have needs, you know." You continued primly.

Mando's fists clenched on his thighs before he pointedly flattened them back out, fingers dragging over the plates. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't...I'm sorry." He mumbled, patting his leg.

You wavered again and nearly fell. The armored man caught you, settling you down with a cautious tenderness that fired a thrower shot of arousal directly into Ezra's gut. He had always been a weak fool for chivalry, though he was able to display precious little of it in his own life. Oh, this was the best kind of story.

...

Your face burned with embarrassment; why had you told him about your rendezvous with two other members of his Creed? It was like the words just fell out of your mouth, like your brain itself was against you.

You could still remember the way the larger one had pressed his forehead to your own and then encouraged you down his chest to his groin, the way his helmet had tipped back--

A new flood of warmth swept into your cunt and you bit down on your hand to stifle your noise at the pain that followed. Mando paused, then laid your pillow between his open legs. "Lay down on your back." He muttered, patting his leg again. "This way you can see me. I'll be right here."

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize, please." Mando cut you off. "Once this is over, once everything is...over, I...listen, we'll operate as a sealed unit. This maneuver is scrubbed from the start. I never found the quarry. Nothing that we say or do here will ever be mentioned again. Understood?"

Your breath caught in your throat. He was giving you an out. Or himself, you were uncertain. You nodded slowly and his shoulders drooped a little, but whether he was relieved or disappointed…

Well, some secrets were meant to stay that way.

Ezra nodded his own agreement. "It is best to have certain protocol already in place when engaging in uncharted waters." He muttered. "Decidedly militant, but I must surmise your Creed taught you that."

"This is the Way." Mando said firmly.

"If we are operating under burner infantry orders, then I must voice my trepidation about this engagement," Ezra confessed to you. "I have endured this crisis once before and it was not a pleasant experience. I do not envy the pain I am certain you feel at this moment, but I also know that you are in a...compromised and sensitive position. I...if any advance is unwanted, I trust you will inform me. And if I do not respond, if I am too far gone, please have your associate rescind my invitation." He gestured at Mando with his bound hands.

"Wh-What are you going to do to me?" You asked, your voice high in your ears even as you let Mando maneuver you down to the blanket.

"I am going to do for you what your companion cannot, little bird." Ezra's tongue dampened his lips nervously. "And only that, if I understand the situation correctly."

"What he…" you trailed off as a thought occurred to you. Ezra hummed quietly as if to confirm and the sound reverberated through your core, making you whine and squirm restlessly. "Oh, what, stars, you mean-"

"My mouth, little bird." He had a tiny section of blond hair on the right side of his head, the tuft residing rakishly just at his hairline. You hadn't noticed until now, but the whimsical little patch seemed to soften his stern features. "You will need the saliva, regrettably. I am certain that the idea of the mouth of a lowly aurelac harvester on you is a repulsive one, but it is the only way to get the proverbial ball rolling."

"Wait, you have to eat me out?" You asked in confusion, trying to get back up. "Hang on, I should shower, I'll-" Agony raked down your spine and you spasmed, a breathy sound of pain forcing itself past your lips.

Ezra's incredulous chuckle soothed the sensation back down to a manageable level. "What an unexpected offer, little bird! I cannot recall the last time someone bathed specifically for me. You will wholly ensnare me if you continue such considerate behavior."

…

Din's body felt like it was on fire in his armor.

You had gone looking for people like him.

You had gone looking for Mandos because you wanted familiarity. The idea of you sussing out more of his brothers or sisters because you had needs-

Din wasn't sure if he would survive this particular encounter. He was gripping his cuisses so tightly that the leather of his gloves burned against his fingertips. Mandalorians weren't celibate by any stretch of the imagination, but the Creed could make things...more difficult than they needed to be for a variety of species.

Ezra, despite his hands being bound, was remarkably capable. The man had coached you through the pain when you had tried to move, his voice obviously helping you somehow. Djarin wasn't sure if he was jealous or grateful. Maybe both.

The fact that this was causing you to suffer had him loathing how stiff his cock was in his compression leggings, even though from what he had gathered he couldn't actually help that particular reaction.

"I must beg your assistance in disrobing." Ezra was saying softly, tugging at the overly-knotted waistband of your loose pants. "Please, little bird."

"Right, yeah, of course." You mumbled and Djarin could hear the pain in your voice, could feel the twitchy little flinches as you tried to follow Ezra's directions.

Hesitantly, the Mandalorian moved his hands up until they rested on your shoulders. You exhaled a breathy little moan, nuzzling your cheek against his glove in what he had to assume was thanks.

"Better." You gasped, seeming more sure as you struggled to undo the sash at your waist.

"Well done, Steerforth." Ezra praised, causing something warm and wet to pour into Din's abdomen. The armored man's breathing stuttered, was this what Ezra had been feeling the entire time they had been walking? Stars, how had he even managed-

His cock lurched against the tight hold of his leggings, precome dampening his stomach. Without meaning to, Din's fingers tightened on your shoulders and he grunted quietly.

Your eyes shot up, locking with his visor. He knew you couldn't actually see him, but at that moment he felt exposed. "You alright?" You asked quietly, your breath hiccuping when Ezra brushed the stubble of his jaw against your naked thigh. Din ached to do that himself, Maker he wished-

"I'm fine." He choked, like he wasn't roasting alive from the double-edged heat of artificial arousal and jealousy. His left hand slid down, resting at the hollow of your throat. It soothed his ego a little to see that your eyes were still on him, despite what the quarry was about to do.

Ezra, he reminded himself. This man wasn't prey anymore, for all that he was keeping the binders on. Din at least needed that level of control. He needed the stability.

That recurrent devious thought surged forward again, dark and heady. Utilizing Ezra, he could indulge vicariously in the hazy desires he had fought for cycles. The wish to bury his face between your legs and eat you out until you cried, like in the raunchy imagecasts he picked up on rare occasion. Putting his bare hands on you, stars-

Din Djarin was a man of extreme self-control. So far, he hadn't overstepped or shamed the Creed, unless you counted the time he was loaded out of his mind with bacteria-laden quills. He hadn't realized just how many of them were embedded in his back until his vision started getting blurry as he was standing over the nexu's dead body. Served him right for letting the feline get the drop on him before he put his backplate on.

You had been so worried when he returned. You were patched into his coms so you obviously heard the struggle he had dispatching the creature. Heard how ragged his breath got and how hard he had to actually fight.

Din vaguely remembered flopping down on his belly with you hovering over him, pliers in one hand and bacta shot already buried in the meat of his shoulder. Stars, it was great to have a partner sometimes. If he had come back to just the kid like that, he'd probably be dead from an infection. You didn't even make him take off his suit, you just worked around it.

You ended up removing thirty-seven quills of various lengths, most of them bearing nasty hooked barbs. The pain had hit different because of the infection, leaving Djarin trembling boneless and silent on the floor of the hold while you wriggled quills out of his back. He had never felt more helpless, more vulnerable, beskar be damned.

"It's alright. I'm glad you made it back." You had said calmly. "I'm not letting you go alone next time, though."

"Thank you, Senaar…"

Din's face flushed when he recalled how badly his voice had cracked when saying the name he called you by, less speech and more a plaintive cry. The way his glove had slipped over the skin of your cheek, and how he had longed to remove that glove...

Maker, he sullied the Creed with his inability to reconcile over lack of touch. The hunger for skin-to-skin contact that reared its ugly head every time you were out of your heavy exosuit and durasteel served as a painful reminder, one much more poignant than the simple weight of his helm, that he was a Mandalorian.

But this doppelganger loophole was a gift to be thoroughly exploited and he wasn't about to waste that opportunity.

Ezra buried his face between your legs and Din felt the way your entire body coiled up in anticipation, another trembling cry leaving your lips and your hands twisting frantically into the blanket beneath you. "Mando-!"

His name, his name, you were saying his name even with another man's mouth giving you pleasure. Djarin couldn't help the satisfied little growl that left his lips and made its way through his modulator. He heard Ezra chuckle, the other man pausing to shoot him a sly wink over the length of your body. Din nearly laughed.

"Ezra," He said instead, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "Make them cry."

He stopped caring about how wrong it was.

…

You gasped at Mando's words, already inches from bursting into tears. Ezra's mouth was slowly coaxing you open, the stubble on his cheeks and jaw rubbing your thighs. Every pass of his tongue, every gentle press and suckle sought to untangle the knotted ball of heat in your belly, but you were certain you would lose your mind before you managed to disperse the agonizing feeling.

You were too full, almost too aroused to handle Ezra's mouth on your cunt but you were positive if he stopped licking at you, you would die. Heat felt like it was sloshing in your belly, there was so much of it...

Ezra placed a series of delicate kisses on your clit, each one lighter than the last. His hands, still secure in their binders, clutched your right thigh for purchase when he pulled back to gulp air. His expression was dazed, eyes managing to focus on the armored man that loomed over you after several long seconds. "Will you not indulge, Steerforth?" He sounded like he was almost begging Mando, voicing what you couldn't bring yourself to say. "They ask for you, how can you sit there so damned impassive?"

Your breath caught in your throat when you heard Mando exhale raggedly, the bounty hunter muttering, "M' not impassive. There's nothing I-"

"Touch them, for fuck's sake!" Ezra cried, pointedly rattling his cuffs. "I cannot do both. We must work together!"

The Mandalorian lurched suddenly up onto his knees, then sprawled over your body, slamming one hand down to support his weight before wrapping his fingers in the neck of Ezra's tattered thermal shirt. "You don't call the shots here, quarry." He snarled in That Voice, the one that he reserved for his bounties.

Your hands crept up to his hips, hyper aware of the sweet taste in your mouth and how good this would feel.

…

Ezra stared at the pitch-black visor inches from his nose. Felt the strength in the gloved hand that threatened to do much more than stretch his shirt.

The prospector took a mental inventory of his body at this juncture, a bit surprised and entertained to find that he was thoroughly invested in this new direction the encounter had taken. Mando was no doubt glaring at him from the safety of that impregnable helm, the other man's hackles obviously raised by the jab from the prospector.

It mattered very little at this point in time, however, as Ezra heard a zipper fly open. Mando flinched so hard Ezra felt it in his back, and the sound you made was enough to get the devil to start sweating. "Seems that you may be outnumbered, Steerforth."

"Target rich--environment-" The armored man snarled. "Senaar, y-your--mouth, fuck-"

He stuttered. He stuttered. Ezra latched onto that weakness with a filthy grin, easily twisting out of the other man's grip to duck his head back down and taste you. Mando's other hand hit the blanket as you undulated your hips up to meet Ezra's mouth. Ezra could only imagine the noises you were making around the other man's cock. He knew you were making them by the way Mando's arms quivered. And wasn't that a sight, a man in full armor rendered helpless by the power of a warm, eager mouth on his cock.

"Watch me now, Steerforth." Ezra crooned, tilting his face up to make presumed eye contact. "This is how you make them weep with pleasure." He was sure that his chin was dripping pink at this point and he knew, even without seeing the other man's face, that Mando was barely hanging on. He had to salute the armored man's dedication. A less devout individual would have given out before they made it to the floor.

The Medusine barrier that the Serpentia formed was slowly weakening under the gentle assault of his mouth, Ezra was pleased to notice. Of course, he wasn't exactly rushing, simply going at a steady pace to keep your pain to a bare minimum. You had begun to leak around the barrier, your arousal even warmer than he had expected. Ezra couldn't tell whether it was because he was under the effects of the pollen or whether it was reality that you tasted immaculate, but he reasoned that it didn't particularly matter.

He was hungry enough to cope with either happenstance.

"Little bird, fuck my face, won't you?" He requested sweetly, chuckling at your enthusiastic response. "Grind yourself to completion on my tongue, break the barrier so that your associate can sheathe himself balls deep in this delectable pussy and give you respite."

...

"Fuck." Din rasped, his eyes wide behind the visor of his helmet. The way that Ezra spoke was like fucking music, the man wrapping filthy words in flowery, incomprehensible syntax.

The Mandalorian's fingers tangled resolutely in the blanket, the armored man panting as you urged his aching dick even further down your throat. Your hands grappled with his thighs, shoving them wider and then taking two hungry handfuls of his rear to encourage him.

"Senaar-" he started to warn you off, but stopped dead when you moaned around him. Stars, he wondered how you could even breathe--

You pulled back, coughing and gasping. "You're doing so well, little bird." Ezra murmured from between your legs. Your only reply was to take Din's cock back into your mouth and oh fuck you weren't stopping-

Your hand found Djarin's in the blankets and you tugged on it, forcing him to try and figure out how to redistribute his weight so you could have the appendage. He managed it of course, he was a fucking Mandalorian after all, but there was a moment where he nearly lost his balance.

You guided his hand to your neck and Din couldn't fight back the groan he let out when he felt his cock bulging through your throat. Fuck, no one had ever been able to take this much of him into their mouth before, halfway was usually the stopping point.

Djarin grunted and tilted his head down to watch you struggle, finally wrapping a hand around his cock and easing it back out of your mouth. Strands of saliva connected the engorged head of his dick to your lips. Din sighed stupidly at the sight, fisting his dick and coating his glove with your spit. "You're good at this, Senaar." He said gruffly, knowing that it wasn't really praise, not like how Ezra said it. But words had never been his forte.

"Keep speaking to them Steerforth, they leak at every word out of your mouth." Ezra encouraged from between your legs. "That's right little bird, just a bit more…"

Din was startled, to say the least. You liked when he talked? "I…" he hesitated, then his brow furrowed. "Can't wait to fuck you, Senaar." You whimpered, your hips shuddering. "Fuck you until you don't remember your own fucking name." Din growled. "Breed you like a good Mando should, pump you full of my come just like my Creed-siblings did, right?"

You nodded against his thigh, your sweat seeping through his flight suit to meet his own liberal perspiration. He was so hot, his armor had never been this hot--

"Kevva, that's a kink I didn't anticipate." Ezra panted, pink slick smeared all over his nose and chin. "They certainly like it though, if I understand correctly."

Din could smell you, smell the sweet scent of that fruit mixed with your own arousal. His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of Ezra's neck and he nearly headbutted him on reflex, barely reining the power back in time. Ezra seemed confused at first, the other man obviously dazed with heat and just sort of allowing Djarin to shove his face against his helmet.

…

The helm was so cool, Ezra couldn't restrain a relieved sigh when he made contact. Mando appeared to be rubbing your essence all over his helmet, utilizing Ezra's face as a paintbrush. Unorthodox, but effective.

"Oh," Ezra realized, "you've got some sort of olfactory sensors in there, don't you. You lewd creature you!" He teased breathlessly. "If you think they smell sumptuous, I regret to inform you that their taste utterly puts that to shame." Words were heavy in his mouth, the prospector having to work harder and harder to put sentences together. It wouldn't be long before his senses wholly abandoned him, he was certain. "Release me, Steerforth, I must…I must carry out my end of the bargain." He groaned, struggling free. "We are almost at their climax."

Mando was nearly vibrating with anticipation, gloved fingers clawing at Ezra's hair. "Careful," was all the armored man said hoarsely.

Ezra nodded, once again touched by the bounty hunter's surprising display of consideration for his partner. "When the barrier breaks, they will need your cock immediately, Steerforth. I will...not be coherent for much longer." He mumbled against your cunt, giving up on speech after Mando nodded.

With one last sweep of his tongue, the barrier dissolved. You sobbed out, your voice breaking as you writhed beneath your large companion and bucked your hips up against Ezra's eager mouth. Slick fairly poured out of you, leaking down your thighs and soaking the blanket beneath you.

Ezra didn't remember wriggling his bound hands beneath your rear, simply returning to his senses with your legs over his shoulders and his lungs burning for air but you tasted so good, he felt raw with hunger.

Mando's gloved hand covered nearly the entirety of his face, easing him back from his feast. Ezra watched the other man's chest heave in a daze until he suddenly remembered what he was doing. "I apologize, I...I am too far gone." He murmured in contrition, lowering your hips back to the floor.

"Ask nicely to fuck their mouth." Mando ordered, his blunt words digging into Ezra's groin. "You said it hurt you last time because you were alone. You helped them not to hurt. If they don't want to let you to fuck their mouth though, I'll…" he hesitated, "I'll figure something else out. Nobody has to hurt."

"'Something else'?" Ezra repeated, stunned. What on earth could this armored man possibly be offering? Those gloves were remarkably soft, the leather worn smooth from a lifetime of use, no doubt- "Oh."

…

The pain had eased, only to be replaced by a searing emptiness. You squirmed beneath Mando, tangentially aware that he was engaged in a discussion with Ezra. Your hand flew to your pussy, the drenched area making an embarrassingly loud noise when you thrust two fingers into yourself in an effort to quell the ache.

"Maker, please, please, Mando!" you begged, barely aware of what you were saying. The heat concentrated in your pelvis was burning you alive, desperate tears pouring down your face.

Mando stood to his full height, towering over you, just watching you quiver while you pleaded deliriously. He fairly ambled around your body, moving until he stood between your spread legs. His boot shoved your ankle, opening you even further, exposing every inch of you and the mess that covered the blanket under you. "Senaar." The low burr of modulation made you rock your hips up, whimpering and nodding when he stroked his cock like he was showing off.

Somewhere, deep in your soul, you prayed that he liked what he saw even without the strange pollen instigating.

He knelt, gloved fingers curling beneath your chin to pull your eyes up from his thick, perfect cock and the puddle of precome it was currently weeping onto your pubic mound. His touch sent flickering trails of electricity through your body, and you could barely focus on what he was asking.

"Ezra...mouth?"

You nodded rapidly, making Mando bark out what could have been a laugh. He cupped your jaw again, and then his hand stroked your hair in a way that was almost tender.

"I'll make you feel better." He promised. Ezra was a mess, he looked like you felt. The quarry simply let Mando shove him down onto his knees, his eyes half-lidded. "Undo your suit." Mando ordered and Ezra shakily attempted to obey. He was having a difficult time with his hands still in the binders so you reached out, batting his hands away impatiently to unzip the lower portion of his exosuit.

His thermal leggings were threadbare like his shirt, the waffle-weave fabric soaked through. His cock visibly twitched when you exhaled sharply. "Do not tease me, little bird, I feel as if I am on death's doorstep." The man pleaded through his teeth, "I am raw and agony gnaws at my skin; please take me in your mouth."

"I have to get your pants off." You tried to explain, fumbling with the article of clothing. The noise of despair he made had you frantically clawing at the pants, finally dragging them down low enough that his cock was freed. It slapped against his belly and he moaned, bound hands digging helplessly into your hair.

"May I please have your mouth?" He requested raggedly. "I will not take it if you do not give it freely but please, little bird."

After he had worked so hard to get you to come? You were nodding hurriedly before he finished speaking, and his deep, drawn-out groan of relief was like music to your ears when you swallowed him down.

…

You were radiating warmth, your hips twitching and shifting restlessly even as you tried to get Ezra's dick out of his suit. Din had to hand it to the other man, he did ask nicely.

But there were much more pressing matters to attend to. Mainly, your neglected cunt that was currently leaking all over the underside of his cock. Djarin took a steadying breath, and then slowly sank himself into your waiting heat.

Your cry of relief was fucking primal, a hungry, feral snarl that slithered hot and seething in his stomach under the beskar plate. Din was wholly, entirely lost, finding himself mentally shattered at the first stroke into your body. Your thighs trembled on either side of his hips and then your legs fell open, like you didn't have the strength to hold them up.

Shit, he knew he should say something, he knew he should be reluctant about this, but it was like every cell of his body needed you to fucking survive.

Maybe he always had.

Din bared his teeth and growled back at you, his attention divided between watching you eagerly suck Ezra's cock and watching the way his own dick split you open. His passage was eased by the strange pink fluid that continued to ooze out of you, stars it was so hot-

Ezra's fingers tangled in your hair after a moment, the prospector cradling your head to his groin in a manner that could have almost been described as gentle.

"Is this how my Creed-siblings f-ucked you, Senaar?" Din's voice grated in his chest, the armored man barely aware of the heated words tumbling out of his mouth. "Filling you, claiming you, fucking your throat and pussy?"

"Kevva." Ezra breathed. "Your peculiar voice working in tandem with your cock appears to be the thing that turns them into a voracious harlot. I do not know if I have ever-" His sentence broke momentarily, "oh, fuck, very well little bird, take the whole of it then." He grunted, raking his fingers through your hair as you deepthroated him. "You are absolutely magnificent at that, you know." The other man praised shakily.

Your cunt fluttered around Djarin's cock and he felt your arousal soak through his suit, hot fluid sliding down to coat his balls. "Stars, did you just come?" He groaned, unable to stop the filthy noise he made when you whined around Ezra's dick and nodded as best as you could. His fingers gripped your thigh, digging into the skin as he began to rut against you. The Mandalorian threw his head back, panting, "Feel so fucking--good around me, fuck, Senaar, so good-"

…

You felt like you were falling apart again and again. The taste, the sensations, the curling knot of heat in your belly that released inch by inch. Mando's hand on your thigh and Ezra's grip on your head were the things that allowed you to hold on to your sanity, but only just.

Mando was conquering you utterly, his dick driving into you with enough force that you knew you would be aching later, but in the moment you never wanted him to stop. You had craved him, wished for him for so long, to finally have him was total bliss.

And Ezra, Ezra, his silky voice caressing your body as his bound hands carded through your hair. His cock choked you again and again and every time you had to pull back off of him for breath he praised you, talked about how good you were, how no one had ever taken him as deep as you…

You were in heaven.

Ezra abruptly retreated, his cock smearing more precome across your lips. "If you continue on in this manner I will be undone, little bird." He muttered. "Your one-sided assault, while inescapably delicious, is rendering me wholly base. You wish for me to spill my seed on your face?" His hips twitched. "Or shall I fuck my come down your throat, request that you swallow every drop?"

"Fuck it into them." Mando rasped before you could say anything in reply, a gloved hand grabbing your chin. "Fuck your load i-into that sweet little mouth of theirs. Give them what they fucking need, quarry." He demanded, and you nearly came again from how unhinged he sounded.

"Well, little bird?" Ezra asked softly, his eyes dark with want. "Shall I take my pleasure from your lewd little mouth and let your beautiful throat milk me dry?"

"Please!" You begged, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to encourage him.

Ezra sighed blissfully at the sight, lacing his fingers through your hair and encouraging you to take his cock until your nose rested against his groin. "Fuc-king gods, you are positively celestial." He groaned, "Relegating yourself to a singular partner would be doing you a disservice, little bird. I highly encourage you to weaponize your talents in whatever field you wish."

Come flooded your mouth, his cock twitching heavily against your tongue. Your eyes rolled back, your lungs burning for air and you dimly heard Mando snarl, dropping his helm to rest on your sternum. The metal was blessedly cool even through your tunic, helping to anchor you to reality.

"Fucking touch me, please." Mando's voice shook even with the modulator, his words buzzing through your body. "Senaar please, fuck, pl-please, touch me, fucking--"

Your palms crashed into his shoulders, hips bucking upwards to meet his next thrust and you came again. Mando made a noise that you could only liken to a roar, the armored man grappling at your hips and grinding himself against your dripping cunt.

"Senaar, Senaar, Senaar--" The name he had given you punctuated every thrust, his rasping tone making your belly drop out. You weren't sure if you would ever stop coming, grasping blindly at Mando and Ezra while your cunt gripped down on Mando's cock.

…

If Ezra still had any doubts about being a blatant proxy for the armored man, that was obliterated in his post-orgasm daze.

A gloved hand slid to the back of his neck and tugged him down to your mouth. Ezra went clumsily but willingly, the prospector humming when he tasted himself and the cloying sweetness of the Serpentia on your tongue. You sobbed against his lips and Ezra soothed you with his mouth, accepting all of your hungry whimpers and whines as he stroked your hair back off your forehead.

"Little bird, little bird, you will want for nothing with this individual pummeling you so mercilessly." He breathed, relishing the soft cry that quivered against the skin of his neck. "I imagine you can feel every inch of that prodigious girth, burning like unquenchable quicksilver, threatening to breach your very womb." He moved his bound hands down, resting them on your stomach. "Steerforth, I trust you are punishin' their cervix with every thrust?" He queried, chuckling darkly when Mando just snarled in reply.

You threw your head back, hands fisted in the fabric between Mando's pauldrons and gorget. "Mando-!" You pleaded, "fuck!"

Mando's hands dug beneath the small of your back and he canted your hips upwards, sheathing his cock in the cradle of your body over and over. Ezra envied the armored man's stamina, grunting when he felt his member trying to rise again. Whether he could blame the pollen for that, he was unsure, but the lovely company certainly did nothing to dissuade his arousal. Watching this large, almost knightly figure rail into you, your face still a mess of tears from when Ezra had fucked your mouth…

Kevva, he could not recall a time where he had been so content to simply play voyeur, pressing the occasional kiss to your lips at Mando's behest. "Such tenderness, what a dichotomous sensation for you," the prospector mused, "the contrast between armor and flesh." His mouth brushed against your ear when he continued, "However, I believe you're beginning to realize that there is an untapped wellspring of man beneath all that metal, am I correct little bird?"

...

You squeezed your eyes shut and Din's hand reached up, the bounty hunter unable to keep from cradling your cheek. "I always knew." You said, your voice barely audible. "I-I always...I always-"

"Be quiet." Din grunted. "Y-You...don't have to say it." His heart slamming in his chest had nothing to do with his current exertion. You knew. Shame reached him dimly through the haze of arousal. All the times he ached to touch you, all the times he battled with himself over his desire for contact…

Your hand gripped the back of his helmet and he flinched sharply. He hadn't noticed you move and you could pull his helmet off, shit, he was so stupid for doing this! His eyes flew to yours, even though he knew you couldn't see through his visor.

After a moment of him fighting back his panic, you just shook your head. "S-Sealed unit, ri-ght?" You asked, your words hitching with his thrusts. Djarin nodded warily. Your eyes half-lidded and you knocked your forehead into his helmet, the gesture unmistakable to a Mandalorian.

A kiss.

Was his heart breaking, or just fucking giving out under the assault of this insane pollen? Was he overloaded? Was this all just some wild hallucination?

Din frantically shoved his helmet against your face, pinning your head back to the pillow. Shit, he needed to be careful, you didn't have armor. "Senaar, I--" Basic had always been so damn heavy on his tongue. Mando'a flowed, but it was secret. Sacred. Djarin hesitated and you reached up again, cradling the indents on his helmet.

"Always. Even with this." You whispered.

His brain had short-circuited. The roaring in his ears was deafening and he knew he was making some kind of ugly, wounded noise, but he couldn't actually do anything about it.

Always. Always.

His heart must have blown, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for what he was feeling right now.

…

The sound that Mando made after you assured him was heartwrenching, a guttural sob that seemed like a mixture of agony and ecstasy. He clawed at the blanket beneath you, gasping for breath as he all but broke you in half, his dick ripping yet another orgasm from your hungry cunt.

You were lightheaded from his prolonged fucking, your pussy in spasm around his thick cock, but you refused to give out yet. "Did you feel me come, Mando?" You whimpered against the side of his helmet, wringing more feral noises out of him. "Is it good?"

"Fuck, incredible, s-so--" Mando gripped your thigh, hitching it up over his hip and then dragging his fingers hungrily through the pink slick that had pooled in the crease of your hip. "Never want to leave, fuck, m'sorry, I know I'm t-taking--forever-"

"Only a fool apologizes for his length in the bedroom." Ezra remarked dryly, dipping down to kiss you when you laughed. "How do you fare, little bird?"

"So good." You sighed, feeling half-drunk on your orgasm high. The knot in your belly had finally gone slack, leaving you weak and trembling beneath Mando as he chased his own completion. You hummed and Ezra rumbled back, his touch remarkably careful when he cupped your chin.

"You have done so well." Ezra murmured. "Serpentia is no simple storm to weather, yet you have endured." Mando wordlessly bumped his helmet against Ezra's temple, the metal rubbing over the blond tuft of hair the quarry sported. "You are most welcome, Steerforth." Ezra chuckled. "One is glad to be of service, but please. You threatened to fill them, didn't you?"

Mando's hips faltered in their rhythm and the armored man finally came with a shattered moan of relief. Stars, you weren't sure if you had the Serpentia to blame for the sheer volume that he came; you could feel it frothing out of you around his cock as he continued to shudder and writhe through his orgasm.

"Holy shit, Mando." You said incredulously, unable to fight back the urge to slip a hand down between your bodies. "You told me Mandalorians were rare."

"We--are." Mando panted raggedly, his cock still twitching inside you.

"If you come like this, how?" You asked, your combined fluids soaking your questing fingers. Mando just stared at you for a moment, shoulders heaving while he struggled to catch his breath.

And then he started laughing, which was...not nearly as terrifying as you had expected, honestly. "Stars, you--" He wheezed, his helm thudding gently against your forehead. "Fuck you, Senaar." You could hear him grinning, his voice still warm with laughter.

"Odd method of displaying affection. I take it your Creed is of a fraternitous bent?" Ezra commented, a quiet noise of surprise escaping him when you tugged him down for a kiss.

"Thank you." You mumbled drowsily into his mouth.

"Hardly. I ought to thank you. When last I endured the Serpent's grasp, I was incarcerated and driven to gratify myself to ribbons on the inside of my gear." Ezra informed you, his tone nonchalant. "This experience was a rare moment of hedonistic bliss in my life. Believe me when I say I shall cherish it."

He straightened up before you could say anything in reply, extending his bound wrists to Mando.

"Whither to, my recalcitrant steerforth?"

Mando ignored him for another moment, stroking your forehead tenderly. He appeared to have noticed your weariness, because he sounded softer when he spoke. "Sleep, Senaar. It's over."

…

"I'll cut you loose on Sorgan."

Ezra swiveled in the co-pilot chair, knowing that his expression must border on the befuddled. When the armored man had left you to sleep, hauled Ezra into the cockpit and secured his binders to the chair, the prospector had assumed that whatever agreement they struck previously was rendered null and void. "I would be...wholeheartedly grateful to you, Steerforth." He breathed.

"I never found you. Your pod malfunctioned and you burned alive in the atmosphere." Mando instructed him in that level, modulated voice. "Stop stealing shit and I won't have to hunt you down again."

"Those men stole from me!" Ezra retorted hotly, knocking his elbow down into the white case that hung off his hip. "I worked alone for stands and they came along right at the most opportune juncture, put a thrower to my head and robbed me! I simply reclaimed-"

Mando waved a hand, interrupting his self-righteous tirade. "You and I both know that it doesn't matter. I'm forfeiting the credits this time, but next time…" he trailed off pointedly. "Don't get caught again. If someone else from my Guild chapter picks up your bounty, Mandalorian or otherwise, they will catch you."

Mando leaned in close, his elbows resting on his knees and helmet propped up on his folded hands. Ezra felt for all the world like a specimen underneath a microscope, barely suppressing the urge to squirm nervously.

"The bounty specified that you be captured warm." The armored man said after a beat. "No promise of half-payment upon cold delivery or even proof of demise. So whoever you got into a pissing match with wants to be the one to put that last slug into your brain. You already heard my advice. For your own good, I suggest you lay low and be fucking quiet." He gestured out the cockpit viewport at the green sphere that hovered in the distance. "There's good people on that planet. Good people that I care about. If you bring hunters to their doorstep, I will find out. And then I will find you."

Kevva have mercy, this man was no joke. Ezra was having a difficult time just mustering up the breath to give him an affirmation! Was this truly the same Lancelot he had watched engage in lotus-eating debauchery with his Guinevere not two hours hence? Ezra's belly roiled uncertainly, arousal and fear a potent combination. This must be how the bounty hunter indulged himself without divesting his plate, the prospector reasoned dimly. Fear was a remarkably stimulating thing. "Of course." He finally answered, his voice a little reedy. "Your mercy is...unexpectedly generous, but no less appreciated for its spontaneity."

Mando grunted, seeming satisfied with his response. The armored man returned to the control panel after a moment, flipping a few switches. The entire ship appeared to be miles above what Ezra was used to. Even the Testin had a dog-eared manual that hung from a chain by the central dash, and the craft was such a rattling nightmare that she needed three bodies just to keep her straight. But this man, this...Mandalorian, he operated the whole blasted vessel with a fluid ease.

His next words were so quiet Ezra nearly missed them. "Thank you."

"Pardon?" Ezra queried blankly.

Mando heaved a sigh that made his pauldrons visibly dip. "I said, thank you." He growled awkwardly. "I don't know what...I don't know if I would have hurt them because of--because of how I am."

"It will do no good to ruminate on such dour subjects." Ezra hesitated, then continued, "but your Creed...would you have broken it for them, had you known about the requirements of the Medusine barrier?"

"I…" Mando tightened his hold on the directionals, those gloves creaking with his tension. "I'm not sure." He admitted, lapsing into silence afterwards.

"Your ship is marvelously responsive." Ezra murmured by way of changing the subject. "It reminds me of a diminutive Screamer-class that I endured a few stands on, oh, nearly fifteen cycles ago-"

"Be quiet."

…

Din watched Ezra until he vanished between the large trunks of Sorgan's conifers, the Mandalorian then dropping back into the pilot's seat with a groan. Maker, he hoped he was doing the right thing. Hoped he hadn't just unleashed some mass-murdering psychopath on the unsuspecting populace.

Djarin tilted his helmet back against the headrest of the seat, aimlessly staring up at the fuselage.

What the hell was he going to say when you woke up?

Din's heart sank. He knew that he couldn't believe anything that had come out of your mouth while you had been under the effects of that fruit. Serpent's Tongue. He chewed his lower lip meditatively.

He could lie.

He fucking cringed at the thought, then shook his head at himself. You would be embarrassed at best, but at worst…

Shit, he didn't want to lose you, even if you didn't feel the same way about him. And then there was the kid to worry about. No, a lie would be better.

You had sought out other Mandos. His stomach lurched as he recalled that little fact. Fuck, fuck, was it hope that beat so insistently in his throat?

A sealed unit, he had said.

He just wouldn't bring it up. He was the one who had insisted that this whole maneuver was struck from the proverbial records in the first place, right? He just wouldn't mention it. Easy enough. If you said something, that was fine, but otherwise…

Din nodded firmly. This is the Way.

Part Two

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years ago

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Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here.

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes?

#winx club #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #anti stella #submission

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ahkaraii · 3 years ago

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damuron drabble (+yuri&flynn; 1447 words)

"They really eat this crap?" Damuron mutters as he heaves the monster's corpse onto Mister Hanks' rickety table.

"Don't be rude, soldier," Casey says coldly. "Not everyone has the privilege of eating like a noble."

Damuron wilts and mutters a "Sorry, Captain" before scuttling off to fetch another dead wolf. He personally thinks he'd never stoop so low as to eat a friggin' ratwigle, even if he was dirt poor and starving; he'd rather die, he thinks.

"Hey, shit for brains!" squeaks a high-pitched voice. "Eat THIS!"

Damuron turns just in time to get a face full of monster guts.

"All knights are bastards!" screeches the little shit that has just pelted him with stinking innards.

"What the fuck!" Damuron yelps. "You little shit!" He brushes the gore out of his eyes and chases the kid, who promptly turns tail and flees. "Come back here!"

"Catch me if you can, AKAB!" The brat has the gall to stick his tongue out at him as he runs. Oh, it's ON!

A flash of blue-gold causes him to react and then course-correct just in time to avoid slamming an elbow into yet ANOTHER child, who has barrelled into his legs, tripping them both down to the ground. "Leave Yuri alone!" pleads the new kid, eyes wide and blue and fierce. "He didn't mean anything by it!"

"I meant every word, Flynn!" The so-called Yuri spits. "Who do these knights think we are!"

Ahh, he knows that tone. Wounded pride. Understandable, really--Damuron would've reacted the same, in his place. "Get off me, kid," Damuron says, tiredly. "I won't do anything to your friend."

"He's not my friend!" Yuri protests, just as Flynn turns a little red and says, "Sorry, sir."

"Look, it's rude to throw shi--I mean, stuff at people." Damuron remains on the ground, arranging his limbs into more of a controlled sprawl, to remain level with the two shrimps. "I know the care package sucks, but it's something, at least. We're trying to help you guys."

"And we're very grateful, sir," Flynn says quickly.

"No, we AREN'T!" Yuri says hotly. "Not even a DOG would eat that! Hanks'll get the runs and almost die again!" His voice hitches and there's a glassy sheen to his eyes, now. "Then Hanks'll die for real and I'll be all alone again and, and--"

"Mister Hanks won't get the, uh, 'runs'," Damuron promises, and internally hopes he's not lying. "We cured the steaks with salts and a bottle of panacea. That means they won't get you sick, even if you eat them tomorrow." They might taste really fucking salty, though, but, well, what can you do.

"You're lying," Yuri says wretchedly, through a clogged nose. "All knights are liars."

"Take that back!" Flynn barks. "My dad wasn't a liar!"

"''cept your dad, of course," Yuri mutters, and sniffs loudly. "He was pretty cool, I guess."

"And Mister Leblanc!" Flynn insists. "He brought Miss Flora pencils and paper so we could learn our letters!"

"That guy's the opposite of cool," Yuri mumbles, but he's deflated enough that Damuron knows he's probably all fought out.

"Knights are people," Damuron says, scratching at his now-matted hair. "And people can be pretty cool, or pretty uncool. It's a bit of a gamble, really. But! Trust me. Casey Brigade's one of the good ones." He throws the kids a lopsided grin, mindful of the fact that half his cheek is smeared with dried up guck. "You can trust us."

Yuri eyes him distrustfully. "That's what bad people say to make you think they're good people."

Jeez, but this kid's on a whole other level. Damuron can't help but laugh a little. "Okay, fine. Those are good instincts, I guess. Believe what you like." He hefts himself up to his feet and feels a little sad when the two kids flinch away, as if afraid he'll strike them. "Maybe someday I'll prove it to you. 'Till then, I'll keep doing my job. So, avoid throwing any more stuff at me, okay? I'm trying to earn my gald, same as anyone."

"Yes, sir," Flynn says with a little wobble.

"AKAB," mouths Yuri, narrowed eyes following his every move.

"Right," Damuron says, a little defeated. "Then I'll be off.”

He makes his way back to the brigade's wagon, thinking about poverty and pride. He’s never wanted for anything in his life, except maybe affection, and attention. But food? Damuron’s never gone hungry in his life, excusing the times he was sent to bed without dinner for being a little shit. He’s never had to eat ratwigle rot ‘cause there was nothing else to eat.

“Shit,” he grouses. “This sucks.”

“What sucks is the punishment you’ll get for slacking off,” Lieutenant Hietham says coolly.

Aw, crap. “I wasn’t slacking off!” Damuron whines, hefting the last of the monster corpses onto his back. “I was just doing my civic duty, sir, honest.”

“You’re such a liar, Damuron,” Samaras mutters. “I saw you roughhousing with the locals, as usual.”

“Was not!” Damuron says. “I was teaching them about life, and resilience!” He deepens his voice, intoning, “‘Wind does not break the tree that bends.’”

“Who said that, your mom’s violin teacher?”

“My history tutor, actually,” Damuron grins. “Big on ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ and all that rot.”

“Lieutenant Atomais,” his Captain’s voice rings out, causing him to stiffen up and salute automatically.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Did you hurt the locals,” she says, cold as ice.

“No, ma’am,” Damuron says. “I did no such thing.”

“Are you lying to me,” she says, gaze sharp.

“I am not,” he says, stiffly.

“Leave him alone!” cries out a familiar voice. “He’s not lying, lady!”

Damuron blinks, and in that moment a rock’s gone flying and he barely catches it, inches before it hits Casey’s face. She looks just as shocked as he does.

“Oy, kid,” Damuron says, as if he’s in a dream. “What did we talk about throwing stuff?”

“Not to,” says the kid, grudgingly.

“Right, so,” Damuron says, a little out of breath, “will you apologise to my captain, please?”

“Sorry, I guess,” Yuri grumbles. “Ugh! That’s what I get for trying to bail you out, you dumb cop! AKAB!” And that’s the last Damuron sees of the little shit, ‘cause he’s gone.

“That kid,” Damuron sighs, and then remembers Casey’s looking at him. “Ah, crap. Um. Sorry, ma’am. He’s a bit, uh, impulsive. But he didn’t mean anything bad by it.”

“I see that,” Casey says, her tone much softer, and her eyes much kinder. “Sorry for accusing you, Lieutenant.”

“Ehh,” Damuron never knows how to take an apology like that. “You had reasonable doubt, ma’am, it’s not like I haven’t proven you right before, and all.”

“No,” Casey insists. “You’re a good man, Damuron. I was wrong to assume otherwise. Please forgive me.”

Shit, shit. By Hiethum’s snort and Samaras’ subvocal whistle, Damuron KNOWS he’s beetroot red. Damn this stupid crush of his. “Um. No worries, Captain. Don’t sweat it.”

“I won’t,” Casey says, with a small smile. “I have antiperspirant.”

Damuron chokes on a startled laugh. This is why he fucking loves her, even if she’s a hardass. Her ability to switch from drop dead serious to deadpan humour is second to none.

“Now finish unloading that dire wolf, Atomais! And you help him too, Sergeant, don’t think I didn’t see you taking a smoke break. Move it!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Samaras and Damuron chorus in unison. Samaras sneaks a punch to Damuron’s liver when he loops an arm around the wolf dangling over Damuron’s shoulder.

“Ow, what gives?” Damuron whisper-hisses.

“Cap’n likes you,” Samaras whispers back, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Damuron grouses. She’s got a guy already, everyone knows that. A mid-level soldier, Damuron has deduced: she gets heart-stamped letters and a flood of flowers delivered to her office every fifteen days, hours after sergeants, officers, and lieutenants get their biweekly Imperial paycheck.

“The locals like you too, I think,” Samaras says, thoughtfully. “That kid tried to kick your ass then minutes later tried to defend it. How the hell do you do it, man?”

“What?” Damuron says, adjusting his hold on the wolf’s back legs, to avoid clawing himself. “Do what?”

“Get everyone to like you so fast,” Samaras says, and is there a mild note of resentment in his voice? C'mon, Damuron, work your magic.

“Aww, Sammy,” Damuron flutters his eyelashes. “You confessing to me?”

“Fuck off,” Samaras says, but he’s grinning. “I really don’t know how you do it.”

Damuron grins back at him, and pretends to be mom’s violin teacher, chirping, “'The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others.'”

“Oh my god,” Samaras says, laughing. “I hate you so much, man.”

"Naw, you love me," Damuron says. "No take-backs."

#karaii fic #tales of vesperia #wanted to write some damuron and decided to throw a yuri and flynn cameo there too #just wanted to flesh out the casey brigade's voices in my noggin :)

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justmenoworries · 4 years ago

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Fate: The Winx Saga - How Not To Reboot A Beloved Franchise

Okay, I think I speak for everyone here when I say: We saw this coming.

We saw this coming as soon as that godawful trailer dropped on youtube. But because I hate myself and because I wanted to give this pile of shit a chance, I watched it.

All of it.

It sucked and I won’t do it again.

The End.

....

Nah, I’m kidding.

Here’s why Fate: The Winx Saga sucked ass.

(Spoilers under the cut! Pfft, like anyone cares.)

The Story:

I suppose now you’ll expect me to tell you that F:TWS was a generic, boring slog-fest.

That it offered the most clichéd take on a Chosen One-story since Eragon and that it’s half-assed attempts to be scary through bringing in a zombie apocalypse made it even more painfully obvious just how hard the story was trying to be edgy and ‘’’’’’mature’’’’’’’’.

And, yeah, that’s pretty much how it went.

...Oh, I’m sorry, did you expect something fresh and surprising?

So did I when I watched this garbage.

The title says Winx, but honestly the story is more about Bloom than anyone else. At least they were faithful to the source material in one aspect, am I right fellow Winx-fans?

I hope you like Alfea, because you won’t be spending time anywhere else! Gone are the dozen colorful, unique worlds with their own eco-systems and culture.

Now we have The Otherworld, which is just earth, but with magic.

Oh yeah, and remember how each magic and non-magic users had their own, specialized schools to got to?

Cloud Tower, Alfea, Red Fountain?

Yeah, that’s all Alfea now.

Remember how Winx Club juggled great, charismatic villains and everyday teenage-drama in a way that made both seem interesting and neither obnoxious?

Fate fails miserably at that.

The subplot about the zombies- Oh, sorry, The Burned Ones ™ slowly invading Alfea couldn’t be more dry and uninteresting if it tried. You have hints of political intrigue in the background with the Solarians scheming and taking over in the end, but trust me when I say: You won’t care.

And since the character are either miserable, unlikable or both, you also won’t care about the teenage drama.

Because it’s every single teenage drama plot-line you’ve already seen in edgy reboots like Riverdale, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, etc.

To add insult to injury, season 1 ends with the villains and antagonists taking over Alfea with Solaria’s help, as if anyone would be baited into a season 2 after you just dragged us through a worse version of The Walking Dead.

I would say this is what you watch to lull you to sleep, but all the incessant whining and belly-aching wouldn’t let you.

And because this is the ‘‘‘‘‘‘mature’‘‘‘‘‘ reboot, there will be no transformations and no bright colors. Just some nice effects for magic and that’s it.

Because, you know.

No one watched Winx Club for those, am I right? /s

And because in modern, edgy reboots women can never just be friends, the Winx Club start out hating each other, until suddenly they’re the best of friends in episode 4, Stella included.

Cool, huh?

The Characters:

I’ll get straight to the point: The main cast is horrible.

Not acting-wise, the actors are doing the best they can with the script, but the way they’re written...

God, the way they’re written.

For starters, Stella is a Karen now. In the very first episode she attempts to get Bloom killed, then runs away to cry into Sky’s shoulder rather than apologize.

Flora was replaced by a white character named Terra, who the writers probably thought would be received well solely because she’s awkward and makes a lot of Strawman-Feminist statements.

Techna got straight-up written out.

Musa was white-washed and is a Mind Fairy instead of a Music Fairy now, because her being the Fairy of Music wasn’t ‘‘‘‘mature’‘‘‘ enough for this reboot.

Bloom is a whiny, spoiled brat who is willing to endanger absolutely everyone around her to get what she wants. And in the end, the plot rewards her for it.

Aisha is the only Winx Club-member who remains likeable, but she’s firmly planted in the supporting character-role.

Most of the Specialists got written out too. No Timmy, no Helia, no Nabu, no Brandon.

Sky is still there, but he serves mainly as a boy toy for Stella and Bloom to fight over, because that needed to be a thing, I guess.

Riven was changed from Jerk with a Heart of Gold who learns to be better to just a one-note jerk who never changes and never learns. He’s also not with Musa in this story. Even though their romance was by far the most engaging one in the original series, aside from maybe Aisha and Nabu.

We get a new character named Dane, but he’s just there to be either a bully-victim or a side-character for others to take advantage of. Did I mention he’s the only black guy in the main cast? Yeah. There’s also this really asinine running gag that he might be gay, to tease a possible relationship with Riven, but nothing ever comes off it.

The teacher-characters are all pretty much the same: Duty-driven, want to protect the ones under their care, but end up alienating them by not being entirely honest with them because they think their students aren’t ready for The Truth, blah blah blah, moving on.

The villains don’t fare much better.

The Trix got fused into one single character named Beatrix (haha, get it?) and she’s just... The Worst. And not in a good way. She’s obviously supposed to be the Charming Bad Girl-type but you’re more likely to laugh your ass off every time she opens her mouth than be intrigued. Whoever wrote her dialogue clearly has no idea how teenagers talk. She hooks up with Riven and Dane for no reason in particular and it’s heavily implied these three are going to be the new Trix. Which is...no. Just no.

The headmistress’ secretary gets killed off in the third episode and doesn’t do much in the first two, so I have nothing to say about him.

Rosalind is a worse, female Darth Sidious who is trying so hard to get Bloom to join the Dark Side and I guarantee you, you will not care. The story also tries to present her as something of a well-intentioned extremist, but forgets to actually let her have a point in her murders and genocides.

Hey, remember when Winx Club characters were different and unique?

The writers of this reboot clearly don’t.

The Aesthetic:

Hey kids!

You know what’s better than bright colors and nice, comforting palettes?

Slapping a dull grey filter on everything and calling it a day!

If I had to list all the reasons why Fate’s lack of style is so heartbreaking and disappointing, we’d be here all day.

So I’m just gonna show you a few screenshots from both the original series and the reboot and let that speak for itself.

The Original:

The Reboot:

Honestly, what do I even need to say?

The reboot sucked out everything that made Winx Club Winx Club and replaced it with “YA-novel palette #17247845453″.

Thanks, I hate it.

In Conclusion:

Fate: The Winx Saga could have been a new take on Winx Club’s story.

Maybe even introduced new concepts and characters tat could have been just as iconic as the original ones.

It chose to be every reboot ever instead, made everything grimdark and fundamentally misunderstood the meaning of “Gray Morality”.

Do yourself a favor and re-watch the original instead.

It’ll be a much better use of your time.

#fate the winx saga #review

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wonkasmissstarshine · 4 years ago

Text

The Chocolatier’s Rose {Willy Wonka x OC} Ch.31

GIFs not mine. Credit go to owners.

Summary: Rose and Priscilla take care of all the floral arrangements. Rose talks with Priscilla about something that’s been weighing on her mind. Willy has a similar conversation with Mrs Mason.

Tagging: @holdmeicant @willymywonkers @sleepiesapphicxoxo

Charlie and Willy stayed behind to help Mrs Mason clean up the kitchen. Rose and Priscilla made their way outside. They walked up to the glass elevator.

"Whoa" Priscilla sounded in amazement. "Is this a glass elevator?"

"A flying glass elevator" Rose corrected her friend. She pressed the button and the elevator dinged as the door opened. "After you" She urged Priscilla.

Priscilla gave Rose a questionable look. "Is it even safe to fly in this thing?"

"Of course it is. Willy, Charlie and I fly in it all the time" Rose assured. "I'd be more worried about walking right into the door though" Priscilla stifled a laugh. She could only assume that Rose had walked into the door a few times. Rose gave her a warning glare. "It's not funny when Willy does it, and it's not funny when I do it"

"S-sorry" Priscilla muttered over her stifled laughter. She stepped into the elevator and Rose followed after her. Rose closed the door and Priscilla couldn't help but notice all the buttons. "Are these all rooms that are in the factory?"

"Yep" Rose said, popping the 'p'. She pressed a button and the elevator made its way to its destination. She looked over at Priscilla and smiled amusingly when she noticed that she was still looking at all the buttons. "Having fun there, Cilla?"

"Can you explain some of the rooms to me?" Priscilla asked. Rose was happy to oblige with Priscilla's request. She pointed out her favourite rooms and explained their purpose and what was made in them in great detail. Priscilla loved seeing her explain with such passion and excitement.

Rose noticed the way Priscilla was smiling at her. "What?" Rose asked as she copied the contagious smile.

"I just love seeing you get so happy" Priscilla told her. "That's why I can't wait to see you get married. I know on that special day, your smile will be so bright, the sun will be jealous of you"

Rose giggled a bit. "How poetic of you, Cilla"

"Let me correct myself" Priscilla said, holding up her index finger. "The sun should be jealous of you now. It will never burn brighter than you"

Rose didn't giggle but snorted with laughter as she playfully hit Priscilla on the arm. "I should get you the make the speech, considering you have such a way with words" The elevator landed in front of Harry's flower shop. It was a cute, brightly colored little shop with playful banners and baskets of beautiful flowers hanging from the awning. The two girls stepped out of the elevator.

"Harry's Fanciful Flora and Fauna" Priscilla read the name.

"This is a cute little place" Rose said. She took in a deep breath and she could smell the flowery scents. "And it smells delightful"

The two girls entered the shop. Harry could hear the bell ring and so he looked over to see who his new customer was. He was surprised to see Rose and Priscilla. "Rose, Priscilla. What an unexpected but pleasant surprise!" He greeted them.

Priscilla smiled weakly at him. She was still unsure about him but remembered that she was here for Rose. "Hi Harry"

"This is a pretty shop you've got here" Rose complimented.

"Thank you" Harry smiled appreciatively. "What brings you two by today?" He approached the two of them. Priscilla made sure to keep close to Rose, but Harry kept a reasonable distance from them.

Priscilla smirked at that, feeling rather pleased. Maybe Harry really has changed.

"Well, as you know Willy and I are getting married and..." Rose started.

"And you need a bouquet?" Harry finished for her.

Rose nodded. "Yes. And other arrangements purely for decoration"

"I'd be glad to help you with that" Harry said. He ushered them over to a table. "Why don't we all sit and you can tell me what you're thinking of?" Harry grabbed a notebook, and then the three of them sat at a table. "So, Rose, what do you want for your special day?"

"Well, I want a bouquet of roses. They are my favourite flower after all, and it's the most romantic flower in my opinion" Rose explained.

Harry jotted that down. "Roses for Rose. What colours would you like?"

"Red and white. The red represents love, and the white can represent new beginnings. But when you put those colours together, they signify unity"

"Love, new beginnings and unity" Harry repeated. He smiled as he wrote down the colours. "Perfect for a wedding"

Rose smiled at that sentiment. "It really is" She said dreamily. "Now, Priscilla here is handling all the decorations so you'll be working closely with her"

Priscilla smiled and held out her hand for Harry to shake. "Put it there, partner"

Harry chuckled at the gesture but shook her hand nonetheless. "I'm looking forward to collaborating with you"

"Honestly, me too" Priscilla admitted.

Harry averted his attention back to Rose. "So, the bouquet is figured out. What about the decorative arrangements?"

"Definitely irises and orchids" Rose decided.

Priscilla's eyes widened as she pictured an image in her head. "You can have those arranged on an arch"

Harry agreed with Priscilla's idea. "That's perfect. It'll take some time, but they can be woven together along the length of the arch"

Priscilla squealed in excitement. "Oh, that would look amazing. Then you add some lights and a canopy to the arch, it would look even more amazing" Priscilla looked to Rose. "How do you think that would look Rose?"

"Oh, I love it!" Rose said happily. "Then that just leaves table arrangements, which I'm thinking of daffodils and lillies for"

"Okay" Harry nodded as he wrote down the note. He then proceeded to read back Rose's requests. "Red and white roses for the bouquet, orchids and irises that are to be woven into the arch, and daffodils and lillies for table settings"

"That sounds right" Rose confirmed. "And thank you for doing this, Harry. It means a lot to me. Y'know, considering..." She trailed off.

"Yeah" Harry nodded, knowing what she meant. "Don't mention it, Rose. I see you as a friend now, and friends do nice things for friends"

"How much will all the flowers cost?" Priscilla asked. "I'm willing to pay anything"

"No charge" Harry denied Priscilla's offer. "Consider this my gift to you, Rose, and Willy as well considering this is his wedding too"

"Wow" Rose was shocked at his kindness. "Thank you, Harry" She got up and walked over to him. Then, she hugged him, which surprised Harry. Still, he hugged her in return. "Come to the factory tomorrow. You and Priscilla can start planning tomorrow"

"I'll be there, Rose" Harry said. He guided them to the door.

"Just wait one second, Mister" Priscilla said to him, pointing a finger at him. She glared at him, and Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, scared he had done something wrong. Then, Priscilla's glare was replaced with a smile and she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "See you tomorrow, partner!"

Harry laughed and hugged her back. "You too, partner"

With that, the two girls left the shop. They stepped foot inside the elevator and started the trip back to Mrs Mason's house. Rose was rather pleased with what she got done today.

Her dress was figured out, she had the music taken care of, she was going to have an amazing cake, and the flowers were going to be beautiful. She knew that Priscilla would make the wedding look absolutely perfect, no matter how she decorates the meadow for the wedding, and her mom was a wonderful cook so the food was going to taste great. Her friends and family were going to be there, but the most important part was that she was going to be marrying Willy. It really was going to be the wedding of her dreams.

"Rose?" Priscilla spoke up, knocking Rose out of her daydream. "When you and Willy are married, do you know if you two will be having a family of your own?"

"I'd love to start a family with him" Rose admitted. She couldn't help the smile from appearing on her face as she thought about it. "We'd have a girl named Fleur and a boy named Dulce"

Priscilla raised a brow. "Fleur and Dulce?"

"I'm named after a flower, and Fleur means flower. So she'd be named after me. Willy makes chocolate and candy, and Dulce means sweet. That means he'd be named after Willy"

"That's really cute" Priscilla cooed. She noticed how quickly Rose's smile changed to an unsure look. "What's wrong?"

"It's just..." Rose paused, and her eyes began swelling with tears. "I don't think Willy even wants children. He doesn't even like children and--"

Priscilla stopped Rose. "Willy doesn't like children?" Rose shook her head. "Well, he likes Charlie doesn't he?"

"Everyone likes Charlie" Rose countered. "He's such a sweet boy. He's kind, honest, helpful, and he's always putting others before himself"

"Uh huh" Priscilla nodded.

"But you should have seen how Willy was with the other children on the tour. He couldn't stand them"

"Could you?"

"Absolutely not!" Rose scoffed. "Augustus could not stop stuffing his face. Violet was too competitive and arrogant for her own good, and do not get me started on the disgusting gum chewing! Veruca was just a spoiled brat. Mike was just plain rude and thought he was smarter than everyone else, when he clearly wasn't. Oh, and he hates chocolate. How could you hate chocolate!?"

"Hmm" Priscilla hummed. She had a knowing smirk on her face. "Even I can't stand those kids, and I haven't even met them"

"What's your point, Cilla?"

"My point is that Willy didn't like those children because they were rotten. I'm sure that he would love his own children unconditionally"

Rose managed a small smile. "You think so?"

"Absolutely" Priscilla wrapped her arms around Rose, bringing her into a hug. "Believe me, Rose. Someday, you're going to be an amazing mother and Willy will be an amazing father"

And little did Rose know, that Willy was having a very similar conversation with Mrs Mason as we speak.

******

Mrs Mason was washing dishes, Willy was drying them, and Charlie was putting them away. "I wonder how it's going for the girls" Mrs Mason wondered.

"My Rose is probably having fun" Willy said. A smile came to his face. "She's been having lots of fun planning the wedding"

"What about you Charlie?" Mrs Mason directed to the young boy. "Are you excited for the wedding?"

"Very much so" Charlie answered. "I've never been to a wedding before. This'll be the first one for me"

"She's gonna look so beautiful..." Willy mused quietly. He looked up and stared at the wall, his thoughts wandering to Rose. "Not that she doesn't look beautiful every day. She shines brighter than the stars! She is my starshine, after all" He giggled dreamily. "But the thought of seeing her in a pretty, pink and puffy cotton candy dress"

"That'll be some dress" Mrs Mason commented. "I can't wait to see how it turns out. Rose is going to look like a pretty porcelain doll in that dress. I can already tell" Her heart swelled at the thought of her daughter-figure in a beautiful dress, getting married to the man she loves. She started to cry.

"Patricia, you're crying!" Willy noted.

"Are you alright, Mrs Mason?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, I'm fine" Mrs Mason assured the two of them. She grabbed a paper towel and started dabbing her eyes with it. "I've always seen Rose as a daughter, and now she's about to get married to an absolutely wonderful man" She smiled at Willy as she gently pat him on the cheek. "Albert and I never had the chance to have children, and it was something we both wanted. That's why I'm grateful to have you three in my life. You're like my own children"

Children.

That word echoed in Willy's head. It got him thinking. "Patricia, do you think I would be a good father?"

Mrs Mason smiled at him. "Of course you would. What's bringing this up?"

"Because, I wasn't sure about it at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I do want to have children with Rose" Willy then frowned. "But, I don't know how to bring it up with her. I don't know if she even wants children"

"She's always wanted children of her own" Charlie assured him. He smiled as he thought of a memory. "She once nursed an injured bird back to health. That's when she decided that she wanted to be a mother someday"

"But, would she want them with me?"

"The girl is already marrying you, is she not?" Mrs Mason said. "She's going to be your wife. Of course, she'll want children with you. And both of you will be wonderful parents when that happens" She assured him as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "And my goodness, will they be gorgeous kids" With her other hand, she grasped Willy's chin and tilted his head around to get a good look at his face. "Just look at you. Mix in Rose's DNA and that's twice the gorgeousness"

"Thanks Patricia" Willy smiled at her. He turned to looked at Charlie. "And thank you, Charlie. I think I'm ready to talk about kids with Rose"

Mrs Mason smiled as she pat him on the cheek again. "And besides," She started. Willy couldn't help but notice the mischievous grin on her face. "Making the baby is always fun"

Willy gasped. "Patricia! Charlie is right there!"

"We're back!" Rose announced in a sing-song voice. Her and Priscilla stepped foot into the kitchen.

"Starshine!" Willy exclaimed happily. He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. "I missed you!" He started peppering kisses all over her face.

Rose giggled. "I haven't even been gone an hour, cocoa bean!"

"I know" Willy said, nuzzling into her neck as he sighed dreamily. "I just love you so much" He perked his head up to look at her. "It feels like a lifetime whenever I'm without you"

"Oh, my sweet, sweet cocoa bean" She cooed as she took his face in her hands. She stroked his skin with her thumbs. "I missed you too"

"When we get home, there's something I want to talk about with you. It's something important"

"There's something I want to talk about too. But, we still have one more thing to do"

"And what would that be, starshine?"

"We have to invite your father to the wedding"

Rose was expecting him to have a frown or some other worried expression on his face, but she was taken by surprise when he grinned excitedly. "What are we waiting for then? Let's go see my father!"

#willy wonka x oc #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #rose bucket #my oc #rose and willy #the chocolatier's rose

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shyvioletcat · 5 years ago

Note

Should I be scared about pt 4 of Stupid regret?

*Sprinkling in some angst* *spills the bottle* …. I’ll let you decide for yourself

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

EDIT: MASTERLIST

~~~~~

That walk to her front door felt like an eternity.

Rowan hesitated as he stood on the front step because suddenly he wasn’t on this door step, he was on her old one, minutes away from begging her to run away with him. That night was still one of the greatest regrets of his life, it mocked him in his dreams and was a weight he carried with him when he was awake. With a deep inhale Rowan pushed away those thoughts and stepped through the door, following the sounds of Aelin moving in the house. It led him to the living room where toys were scattered across the floor and furniture.

“I’m not going to apologise, that’s kids,” Aelin said as she draped her own jacket over the couch.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Rowan said honestly.

Aelin smiled at that. “Drink?”

“Just water I think,” Rowan said and then Aelin moved into the kitchen, flicking lights on as she went.

Rowan walked around the living room, noting the pictures on many of the surfaces. Almost every single one of them had Sam in it, the biggest of which was on the centre of a shelf. It was the one he had seen all those years ago of the three of them in the hospital just after Dylan had been born. Looking at the bliss in that photo it made Rowan so sad that Aelin had lost Sam, he was a good man and they had loved each other.

“Here.”

Rowan turned and Aelin passed him the glass.

“I never…” Rowan swallowed against the tightness in his chest, his whole body. “I never apologised for that night. Aelin, what I did, I’m going to regret that the rest of my life. It was a dick move and selfish and I shouldn’t have done it. I should never have asked you to leave him.”

Aelin stepped forward, her hand resting on his cheek. “Thank you, Rowan. I know that wasn’t easy for you to say.” Aelin stroked his cheek once before dropping her hand. Then she turned and sat on the couch.

“I didn’t expect you to be so… calm,” Rowan said as he faced her.

She had her own cup in her hand and held it with both hands as she tucked her legs under herself. “Believe me, I wasn’t. For a long time, after you left me that night I broke three glasses, cut my hand pretty bad. I can show you the scar. But, Sam…” Aelin swallowed, nodding slowly, “he… um. He soothed that anger. I told him of course, it was the only time I think I really ever saw him that angry. He probably would have tired to kick your ass if you turned up to the wedding.”

Tears were steadily falling from her eyes and rolling over her cheeks.

“I loved him so much.” Her lips wavered as she spoke.

Rowan sat on the couch, placing his glass on the floor, but did nothing more.

Aelin wiped at her face. “He-ah,” she took a shuddering breath then blew it out, “he forgave you too. He wanted me to tell you that. It didn’t take him long, he forgave you much quicker than I did. That’s because he was a better person than me. I’m still certain everyone liked him better.”

“I didn’t,” Rowan said. “But I did like him.”

That made Aelin laugh, a strained sound but she meant it. “That was awful. I’m not even going to call it joke, because I know you’re not joking.” Aelin turned and put her glass on the table beside the arm of the couch. “It really shoudn’t have taken me this long to tell you but,” Aelin shrugged. Then she looked at him, her eyes still shining. “These past few years have really been something.”

Rowan couldn’t look at her, he couldn’t breathe. He felt like his chest was caving in on itself. “I’m so sorry. Aelin, I should have been there. I left you, I can’t…”

It was his turn for his voice to break. He had made some sort of peace with himself after he’d let her go, but he was a fool to think he was anywhere near forgiving himself for what he had done to her.

“You were following you’re heart Rowan, I can’t hate you for that, I never hated you for that. The way you went about it, showing up on the doorstep the night before my wedding, now that was something,” Aelin said. “What I regret is that you ran, I know why you did it, you were never good at facing your feelings. But you left me alone and I needed you. I almost reached out so many times, I thought maybe you’d surprise me and come see Dylan when he was born, but you didn’t. Then Sam got sick and I knew you knew, but I didn’t hear from you until after he died. A text message of all things. I was grieving and angry, I deleted a thousand replies to that message. They weren’t polite, I can tell you that.”

Rowan felt like his chest had completely caved in on itself. Aelin was right, as her best friend he should have been there right beside her for everything, the good and the bad. But he wasn’t and it was his own godsdamned fault. He’d missed her wedding, the birth of her son, all his birthdays all of hers. He hadn’t been there for her when she’d lost Sam.

Aelin’s body was shuddering with each breath she took. “Dylan was the one who kept me going. He was who I got up for everyday, the reason why I kept smiling. Even though my heart was broken Dylan kept it together. And I am so grateful that everyday I look at him and I get to see Sam.”

Rowan didn’t know what to say. Aelin was laying her soul bare before him, years of pain and disappointment. So he let her talk, let her tell him the things he should have already known — things he should have been there to support her with — instead he had been wallowing in anger, jealousy and self pity.

“We were about to try for another baby when we found out about the cancer. He went in for a check up and they found something. It was so aggressive, there was nothing they could do. He just wasted away,” Aelin said. She was looking down, playing with the patterns in the couch cushion. “Sam has been gone for almost a year and I still miss him everyday.”

Rowan reached out and help her hand, she looked up at him, those turquoise eyes still drowning in tears. “I don’t think there will be a day in your life you won’t miss him, Aelin. And that’s okay.”

Aelin let out a broken sob then she threw herself at him, her arms wrapping around his neck. Rowan held her as she cried, it was the first time he had held her in almost five years and he had forgotten how right it felt to have her in his arms. He regretted that he had waited to tell her how he felt, regretted their lost time. But he did not regret the life she had lived, the life where she had been loved better than he could have loved her, he did not regret what Sam had given her.

“I’ve missed you, you absolute bastard,” Aelin said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“I missed you too, you brat,” Rowan said as Aelin pulled away.

Aelin was smiling, although a little sadly, as she wiped away her tears. “What has your miserable ass been up to all these years?”

“Nothing at all exciting, but I can tell you if you want,” Rowan told her.

“Please.”

They stayed up for hours talking, it was mostly Rowan recounting what he had been doing with his life. Aelin listened intently, drinking in his words. She laughed and teased him about his bad decisions and mistakes, especially when he accidentally hooked up again with an ex when she had come into town.

“How was it an accident? Did you both trip over and lose all your clothes then fall on the bed?” She’d said trying no to laugh.

“It was a very bad lapse in judgement.” Rowan said as he crossed his arms.

Aelin snorted. “Remelle was the worst, I think a brain aneurysm would be a better excuse. Or maybe a stroke.”

“Well you weren’t here to scare her off like you always did, so really it’s your fault,” Rowan practically poutred.

Aelin smiled. “Or maybe it was just your punishment.”

Aelin ended up putting a movie on despite how late it was and she lent into his shoulder as they watched. Rowan didn’t know who fell asleep first but when he woke up morning light was peeking from behind the curtains of the living room. He looked down at Aelin who was still asleep on his shoulder. A lot of hurts had been healed last night, but their friendship wouldn’t go back to the way it was. It would be something new, and Rowan didn’t regret that. Not for one moment.

~~~~~

Part 5 epilogue anyone?

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bonbon-chan · 4 years ago

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Violets of Spring

Pairing: TobiSaku

Rated: T

Summary: All he wanted to do was bring her flowers

Read on AO3

Spring in Konoha was the loveliest time of year. The flora bloomed, spreading delicate perfume via the gentle breeze. Leaves brushed against each other, creating the melody of the first equinox of the year. The sun shone onto the budding life, not yet heating as much as it would in the summer.

Uchiha Sumire gazed out onto her vast garden that surrounded her estate, basking in the contentment it brought her. Though she had at first disliked retiring from being a kunoichi, she knew her bones appreciated the reprieve.

There was an adjustment period after growing up during a seemingly endless war. The only thoughts in the Uchiha encampment for as long as she remembered was, “How do we defeat the Senju today battle?” But when she was nearing middle age, her leader Madara and Senju Hashirama established a peace treaty and founded Konoha. Many were disgruntled, but Sumire was mainly upset about the end of her shinobi career.

Since there was no longer the need for as many combatants, the older ninja were gently nudged to retire and shift their focus on building a future to pass on the will of fire. Sumire never cared much for the mumbo-jumbo, but she was pleasantly surprised to find that she enjoyed gardening. She helped cultivate the crops that the village used for fresh vegetables. Her contribution was crucial to the village in its infancy as agreements had not yet set up with merchants for necessary produce. The kunoichi had even started helping healers improve the yield for herbs.

As the village developed, Sumire found a meaningful venture that kept her busy and fulfilled her desire to make an impact on her community.

Sumire was enjoying her quiet Sunday morning sipping her magnolia tea when she heard it. Her eyes cut to the clock mounted on the kitchen wall. Nine in the morning, it read.

Like clockwork, she thought with an annoyed exhale.

The rustling in her garden and a head of white hair poking up from behind the hedges had become commonplace in Sumire’s garden. Every Sunday morning, a man would come and steal violets from her flower patch. The retired Uchiha let go of the first few passes. She then became curious at the pattern and how the stranger only went for the violets when there were prettier flowers around.

Now she was annoyed. Couldn’t he find flowers somewhere else? Her eyebrow twitched.

Gently setting her teacup on the table, Sumire rose from her seat and made her way towards the man.

At her unexpected movement, the man stiffened, and she saw red eyes—non-Uchiha red eyes—peer over the hedge before she even made it off her porch. She mused at how he reacted before she even made a sound. She didn’t think she was so out of practice that another shinobi heard her from such a distance. Her bones didn’t creek that loudly.

As she approached, the man did not back down or make to turn away to flee from being caught red-handed. She held back a snort. This’ll be good.

Though, Sumire was in for a surprise herself when she turned the corner of the hedge and was faced with the tall white-haired man with vermillion tattoos streaked across his cheeks and down his chin to match his eyes. She almost didn’t recognize the Hokage's brother dressed in plain black civilian clothing rather than the blue battle armor he was known for. His faceplate was also absent. Bundled in his hand were violets.

With a stiff spine, Sumire looked up at Senju Tobirama and barked, “Well, where’s the girl?”

That broke Tobirama’s blank expression, “Excuse me?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The girl,” she placed her fists on her hips, “Clearly, there is a woman you are trying to woo if you keep coming here every week to uproot my flowers.”

With a clenched jaw, the Senju’s eyes broke away and fixed itself at a point over Sumire’s shoulder but remained silent.

Two can play at this game. She crossed her arm and started tapping her foot.

Tobirama, realizing this woman wasn’t going away anytime soon, unclenched his jaw and worked the tense muscle before meeting her gaze again, and bowing, “I apologize, obaa-san, this is the only place around I can find violets.”

Sumire’s foot slowly halted. She was shocked that the man knew which flower he was collecting, let alone the fact that he had searched for it elsewhere.

“Show me the girl,” she demanded.

Tobirama’s brow furrowed.

“If there is a woman so wonderful that you hunt violets down for her, I would like to meet her. Especially since it’s my garden, you are taking the liberty to use as the source,” she sniffed.

He opened his mouth to make a retort, but stunned Sumire yet again, by closing his mouth, turning away, and muttering, “Very well,” before starting his march.

The two traversed the evolving village, crossing the Naka River, skirting the market, and winding through streets approaching the village outskirts.

Along the journey, Sumire stole glances at the man beside her. She knew him to be the pragmatic right hand to the Senju clan head. Ruthless in battle and just as imposing outside the battlefield. And here he was matching pace with her, minding her advanced age. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or annoyed. She never thought she would see the day where she—an Uchiha—meandered so calmly with a Senju through a village where both clans knew peace. Yet here they were.

Something that bothered her was his expression. Maybe it was the fact that she forced him to take her along, but the Uchiha thought that for a man about to meet the love of his life for a date, he would be more cheerful.

She was about to make a comment when Tobirama’s steps slowed at the last bend.

The pair stood before the gates to the Konoha Cemetery.

Sumire was a hardened kunoichi that had known war most of her life. She had never been nervous before engaging in battle because she knew whatever the outcome, she had given it her all. So, the creeping unease that settled in the pit of her stomach, worsening at every step that brought them closer to the memorial, felt uncomfortable and unwelcome. She did not have many regrets in her life, but her demanding to make this trip quickly climbed to the top of that list.

With a rigid spine and shoulders back, Tobirama continued, intent on completing his journey.

They arrived at their destination.

The grave simply read ‘Haruno Sakura.’

Like the rest of the cemetery, the space around the stone was tidy, but there were several dried purple petals gnarled in the grass at the base—proof of his repeated visits.

Tobirama’s fist tightened on the bundle of fresh violets before he exhaled the breath he had been holding in and bent down to gently set the makeshift bouquet before the tombstone.

Crimson eyes burning more fiercely than any sharingan, Tobirama righted himself and started, “Sakura was--” he faltered before taking a shuddering breath and continuing, “Sakura was my partner. In every sense of the word. In battle, I could always rely on her to watch my back. She rivaled me in tactics and strategy. And She—she cared for me. She let me be someone other than Senju Tobirama, right hand of the Hokage; I was just Tobi. Sakura is the reason my brothers Itama and Kawarama are alive today, and why the casualties of war were limited. She was able to crush someone’s arm and mend the fractured bone, all within a minute. She was always one to put others before herself. Until the bitter end,” his voice was wet, and the anguish rang clearly throughout the graveyard, only rustling leaves, and Sumire’s shattering heart accompanied his harrowing narrative. “She died protecting and envoy of villagers from a shinobi that lost control of a tailed-beast after an attempt to become the biju’s vessel. Her sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Everyone else survived the attack.”

Sumire remained silent, allowing the Senju to voice his sentiments. After several minutes, he resumed.

“She always liked violets. She explained the hanakotoba meaning to me, ‘a small love,’ ‘sincerity,’ and ‘small bliss.’ I thought I was able to make sense of it, but then she told me why it meant so much to her. During the war, we didn’t have much time to ourselves, but the moments where we were able to simply enjoy each other’s company in the nearby meadow were enough for us. She would call it moments of small bliss.”

“She sounds like she was a marvelous kunoichi,” Sumire finally broke her silence, “I will allow you free range of any flowers in my garden, if you allow me to visit Sakura-san as well, separately of course,” the retired Uchiha did not want to impose on Tobirama’s time with his beloved.

“I think she would like that. If your attitude is anything to go by, I think you both would’ve gotten along perfectly,” he jested, eyes clearing, crimson cooling to vermillion.

“Oi, mind your tongue, brat. I don’t care who you are; you still need to respect your elders,” she crossed her arms, tucked them into her kimono sleeves.

He turned to look at her, “Of course, obaa-san. And thank you,” he bowed, drawing her attention, “It was nice to share of piece of Sakura today.”

She bowed in return, “Thank you for sharing. And, uh, apologies for being demanding earlier, it wasn’t my place.”

“I shouldn’t have raided your garden,” he replied, lips upturned.

“Come on, kid. I’ll make us some tea.”

On this spring day, bumblebees worked to pollinate plants, birds chirped their harmonies of content, and purple petals rustled in the breeze.

A/N: From a few Google searches, I found out that Sumire is 'violet' in Japanese and in hanakotoba--the Japanese language of flowers--violets represent the meanings I listed in this fic. So Tobi borrowing violets from the garden of a woman named violet just worked for me hahaI hope you enjoyed the fic. Please let me know what you think <3

#tobisaku #angst #major character death #flowers with meanings #senju tobirama #original character #haruno sakura (mentiond)#my fic #fanfic #naruto

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biaswreckermagnet · 4 years ago

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Fate: The Winx Saga - My Thoughts and Critique - Part 1: Characters

Be warned: The following post will be quite long as I have a lot to say. Please note that this is all my personal opinion and this is just the thoughts and critique of someone that has watched the original Winx Club several time and I have watched the new Winx Saga, and this is in no way a blind hatred based on only word of mouth and seeing half a trailer. Enjoy

I will be comparing this new series to the original 4Kids version, as this is the version I hold close to my heart and grew up watching. So if there are any plot differences I describe from the animation, it is probably due to the slight changes made in the Nick Dub, which some people will know best (example, in 4Kids dub, Aisha’s name is Layla, and Sparks is known as Domino in the Nick dub)

CHARACTERS

Well, I have a lot to say about the characters, just like anyone else. I’ll break down, the casting, compare the character to the animation, and their personality in the Netflix series.

Bloom

The actress chosen in my opinion was a good choice. The problem I have, is her personality. They got the determination and hot-head traits right, of course. But in the animation, Bloom is warm, friendly and bubbly. Easy-going and popular among her peers. I don’t know if they were trying to appeal to the oh-so-angsty teenagers that don’t want to go outside and have few friends. The typical “I’m not like other girls” trope. Tropes are popular, and as someone who has written stories in the past, I have used that trope once, but usually it’s a trope I like when it’s to show the character’s beauty compared to others who may be catty and selfish; not so beautiful on the inside. Here, to me, Bloom is just unlikable. She may be angsty and a rebellious teen, blah blah blah, but she was so rude to people like her Earth mother, and inconsiderate of her own actions and how it could affect those around her. Even if Aisha told her “That is a bad idea, you’re going to regret it” she runs along and does it anyway, and then she gets into a bad situation which also affects everyone, Even if she helps clean up the mess, damage is still done.

In Fate, Bloom’s relationship with her parents is not amazing. Yes, she’s an angsty, rebellious teen who almost kills them because she lost control of her power, but I found this cold, rude relationship so unnecessary. As a teen, sometimes it may seem like no one is listening nor can understand, parents just seem nosy and overbearing, but communication is key. That’s what I find so many shows are missing now: communication.

Looking at Bloom’s relationship with her parents in the animation, it’s not only simpler for them to know from the start that she has powers, but it makes the communication between both parties better. This strong relationship Bloom and her parents have is always present, but we see the beauty of it in Season 1, episode 13, “Meant to Be” when Mike and Vanessa sit her down and talk to her about how they realised she had magic before that fateful meeting with Stella.

There is none of that warmth and love now. Bloom curses at her mother, gives her attitude and is overall just a brat. Bloom may feel remorse towards herself for burning her mother, but then, why is the attitude towards her so ugly? I really don’t like it.

Aisha/Layla

Next is Aisha, who is the only character that was not whitewashed from the original. The only reason I think she wasn’t is because the creators of Winx Saga knew there would be a true uproar if they dared to replace her with someone non-black.

She is the general voice of reason in the group, and the babysitter of Bloom and company. She will support and be the shoulder for Bloom to lean on in a few cases, but generally she’s the only one calling Bloom out for being rash and insensible, but then she gets ignored or sneered at for it, despite rbeing the only one with awareness for consequences.

There isn’t much to compare to with her animated version except for her being athletic; made very obvious in episode one where she says “I swim twice a day, every day”. (Even though that is the only episode we see her following said routine.) Other than that, her backstory is not expanded upon like the animation, obviously due to the lack of screen time and actual length of the Netflix series, therefore for me, I didn’t really bond with her character like in the original.

Stella

The actress is pretty. Not too hard to cast a pretty blonde in a series. Moving on.

In the original Winx, I adore Stella. She’s bubbly, she’s fun, she’s bright. Literally the sunshine of the group. Yes, she has her snooty privileged princess moments, but she is a likable snooty, privileged princess. Why? She showed that she really does care for her friends. Stella can be self-centered and insecure, but she’s never afraid to say that she’s wrong when she realises her mistakes. This is shown several times, but right now I can speak of two instances: Season 1, Episode 8 “Spelled”. Technically, she was under a spell that made her moody and rude, but she still knew she had to set things right after upsetting Musa. Another memorable moment for me when she showed her caring side was during the girls’ stay at the no-magic resort in Season 2, episode 21 ““Trouble in Paradise”. She went after Aisha/ Layla to check if she was all right, they connected and Stella earned her Charmix. Overall, Stella in the animation has her flaws, but she is loved by all and she herself loves the people she’s close to.

However, Stella in Winx Saga, I detest. I was really disappointed with what they did to her character. Honestly, it would have made more sense if she was Diaspro (Sky’s ex-fiance from season 1 and 3) and not Stella. She’s a snob, rude and dismissive of others’ feelings. They did try to toss a sympathy card at our faces later when they eplained the reason why Winx Saga Stella is so - her toxic, overbearing and abusive mother - but honestly, maybe it was because it happened so fast because of the limited time, butI was not feeling any sympathy towards her. I felt like I should have, but I couldn’t. I hope her character changes in Season 2, if I even bother watching it, because I was enormously disappointed with Stella’s new persona for this first season. The Solaria ring was nice enough though.

Musa

Well, here we go. One of the infamous whitewashing cases. To tell the truth, I'm not surprised but disappointed that it acueallyhappened. You mean to tell me they couldn't find any capable Asian actresses for Musa? Yes, small production and low budget, but still. If you are going to make a live action for a cast that is well loved, respected and recognised for the diversity, you should keep it. It just feels like they do it on purpose at this point.

Winx Club Musa I like a lot. I love all the girls, but she's just so laid-back and cool, but she's not afraid to call someone out for being unfair or on their attitude (namely Stella most times). She cares for her friends and she cares for Riven. She's family oriented and she's so passionate about music.

In Winx Saga, she's a mind fairy who used to be a dancer and listens to music with headphones to block out the emotions of people around her when she gets overwhelmed. Interesting new concept and it comes in handy for the new show material. I wouldn't say she was completely unlikable in the WS series but there wasn't anything much besides her ability and that she and Sam (Terra's brother) had somehting more than a fling going on. They were a nice couple. Good chemistry in kisses. I don't know why they decided to not make Riven her man - who knows what the plan is. Riven was not hers in the beginning of the animation either, but we saw a great bond form later on. Their relationship had problems unlike the other Winx couples, but they still are a fan favourite. Let's see how this new match goes I guess?

Flora/Terra

Terra We all know she's supposed to be Flora, no matter how they try to spin it. Before anyone says she's a different character so it's not whitewashing, I have seen a video on Youtube where a girl explains that in actuality, it was supposed to be Flora because there are (now deleted) clips of characters talking to Flora, not Terra. And the adresses portfolio said she was to play Flora. They seemed to change it to avoid heating up the hot water they had already landed themselves into.

Therefore, I will be comparing Terra and Flora. I was extremely disappointed when I saw the trailer and realised Flora was clearly not there. I am not usually one to care whether or not someone looks like me in a show, but I do relate to Flora. I may not always be one that likes to get close to nature honestly, but everything else about her I relate to. I love pink a lot, I am a mixed race person so her looks are what I identify with the most, and our personalities are quite similar.

Terra, on the other hand, is obviously white. The love of plants is there and her sweet and gentle personality is there. Though, it doesn’t get much time to shine because whenever she speaks, she’s either cut off or ignored, unless she’s spouting information the others want to hear at the moment. They did make her quite chatty, and at times even I was a bit annoyed, not because she was chatty, but because that trait just seemed to be a gateway for the scriptwriters to hit you with details about Alfea and its history, and information about fairies without making much effort. Terra didn’t have much screen time, but whenever she was on screen, she was always the butt of a joke and treated poorly. When the situation became dire, she did have some moments of strength, but then the other characters still treated her the same so it seems meaningless.

One main reason Terra stands out to the audience is the fact that she’s the only plus-sized character. I’m all for representation, but I don’t like where they went with Terra. She’s shown to be insecure about her body (shown when she avoids her roommates to change alone). Yes, she’s supposed to be a teen who has heard non-directed comments about weight by other characters, but why couldn’t they make her a confident plus-sized girl? I have plenty of friends that are plus-sized and confident about themselves, older or younger. In media, it’s rare enough to see a plus-sized person, but also one that has confidence. This show is directed to teens, and those who may look and feel the same as Terra won’t have a good example set for themselves to be more confident. If you’re going to include a certain figure in your story, yes, everyone has insecurities and all, but if you have the power to shine light and empower, do it right!

Sky

One reason why I bothered watching the show. Danny Griffin. The man playing Sky. Iin the original Winx, I did not really care for Sky as I’m not really into the long blonde hair, I prefer shorter hair. So I was quite pleased to see this casting as it fits more into my personal type.

Anyways, let’s continue.

I found that the casting was done well for Sky. A hot blonde warrior that can wield weapons well? They nailed it. However, that’s kind of where it ended for me. Due to the plot, his character was pretty much ruined for me. Winx Saga Sky was sadly unremarkable personality-wise. The story didn’t allow for much expansion for him besides having the hots for Bloom and the whole boo-hoo story about his father. There was something of a nice relationship with his mentor, but I’ll get to that later.

Danny Griffin’s performance was quite good. My only issue was one part of his first appearance where his first few lines. . .sounded like lines. Not so much the result of bad acting, but it just was another case of sounding like lines written for a script than natural conversation. But I only really saw that in the first episode, and since everyone would have been getting into character at that time I can let it pass. Otherwise, he performed well as an actor.

Riven

Winx Club Riven does not have the best first impression. According to Musa, he’s “a little rough around the edges, but that’s kind of his charm”. He’s a troubled, moody guy who falls for the wrong girl. He has a very competitive side, especially with Sky, who always manages to beat him in combat. He is indeed often arrogant of his abilities, but he proved himself to not be just all talk during his escape from imprisonment in Cloud Tower during Season 1, and even Sky admitted to being impressed with his knowledge of survival and strategies, even going so far as to say he always thought Riven was the “Red Fountain Slacker”. Animated Riven also has a sweet side that was displayed in season 2 when he comforted Musa during the girls’ first mission to Shadowhaunt, and much more so after they started dating. He expressed how much he cared for Musa in shy but blunt ways. Flawed, but a character that developed throughout the series.

Winx Saga completely threw that out of the window. Riven is now just a clown that does bad boy things. He’s clearly still being portrayed as the “edgy” character with troubles and insecurities, but the rest of the show is so aggressively dark and edgy that he really has no way to stand out anymore. I don’t know what they’re planning to do with his characterr later on, but I really dislike what they did to him. The only thing done right is his competitive nature towards Sky. Side note, this is also my personal preference, but I must add that I am not feeling the minimal facial hair. I’d prefer a clean shaven face. The little spikes just looks messy. But then, facial hair always looks messy to me.

Faragonda

Faragonda. Or as she is known now, Farah Dowling. I’m not sure what to say for her. The actress did well, I can say that. The problem always lies with the characters themselves.

Faragonda is a beloved headmistress that always has an eye out for her students, whether she watches them through her magic mirror in her office or just personally. She gives them enough guidance so they can grow on their own and helps them when she sees the need to. However, she is also strict when needed and will not condone disobedience; this was seen in season 1 when the Winx were punished for breaking into Cloud Tower to get Stella’s ring from the Trix. She is a brave, just and kind woman, well suited for a principal position.

Farah Dowling does not have much besides her position. She’s very secretive and those secrets seem to be there to cause drama when it could have ben avoided. It could be an irrational thought process that humans have, but I’d expect that from someone who hasn’t experienced much in life. The type of past Farah has, she should know better than to keep secrets if she knows it can put the whole school in danger. Her lack of disciplinary action was evident, whether it was the scene of a villain making their move or Bloom blatantly disobeying orders and making choices that moved the plot forward a bit. It was odd to see that even if she knew this person went dilly-dallying in her office or broke a rule, ut wasn’t met with discipline unless something really bad happened. Whereas, we all know that in a school setting, small rule breaking is also punished. I did like the part in the last episode when she and Bloom finally had a warm interaction, I found it very sweet and it was nice to finally have her interact with Bloom without having to expect some impending doom to arise in the next scene.

Beatrix

We did not get the stylish trio we know and love for Winx Saga, but I must say, I was not disappointed by Sadie Soverall. She portrayed the character really well.

She’s a blending of the famous Trix. She’s cunning and does not let anyone get in her way, much like Icy. Seductive like Darcy and I’d say she has Stormy’s malicious nature. (I mean the Trix are all malicious but Stormy generally could let her viciousness rule her judgement). As well as the fact that her power kind of looks like electric bolts, like Stormy’s.

A manipulator that was being manipulated. She’s icy cold, cunning and she knows who she should attach herself to in order to reach her goals. Just a sub-villain I say, but I enjoyed the character. Minus the odd little plots her character was mixed into, which I will discuss later.

Rosalind

A new character who so far seems like the puppet master of all the characters - both good and evil sides. A master manipulator and charismatic. Very enjoyable to watch despite her short screen time. She was the one person that actually had me excited to know what was going to happen next. Very well performed in my opinion.

Mike

The only time I saw this actor truly in character was in the last episode when he was wearing this blue shirt. He really looked like Mike. It may always be necessary to dress a character exactly like the original, but some things are just subtle and yet iconic. Imagine Shaggy from Scooby-Doo without his green shirt and brown pants combo. It wouldn’t feel like him. Otherwise he’s quite a basic looking man so not too hard to cast. I do think this actor really matched Mike though - looks wise, at least.

With Mike, there are less interactions with Bloom besides having very basic “How are you doing?”conversations. There’s a lame joke here and there but nothing really worth commenting over.here now The focus when it came to mentioning the parents in Winx Saga was mostly to Vanessa.

Vanessa

Vanessa in the original series is warm, loving and a good mother. She and Bloom have a strong relationship and have great communication between them, and Bloom not only respects her but also goes to Vanessa when she needs advice and support. The ideal mother-daughter bond.

Date’s Vanessa is more. . .trying to be a good mother but not quite nailing it. As I mentioned during Bloom’s analysis, she’s met with hostility or downright rudeness if she even mentions going out and making friends to her daughter. There were a few moments when it could have been touching to see thieir interactions, but apart from the scene when Bloom was feeling homesick, it felt a bit rushed. Perhaps it was the acting, perhaps it was that the awkward interactions overruled the positive ones, but the Winx Saga relationship between Bloom and Vanessa didn’t feel as connected.

In conclusion, mot of the acting was well done. The issues I have were mostly due to the writing of the characters, not the ability of the actors.

Other minor characters will be analysed during the plot discussion.

#winx club #winx saga #fate winx club #bloom #sky #musa #flora #terra #aisha #layla #riven #4kids dub #netflix #2021 #winx alfea

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